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

[Tyranus]

Rays of brilliant afternoon sunlight streamed into the entryway of the dim medical building as Etz burst through the heavy, crude doors, flinging sand into the air, “We need help now out in the canyons!”

The female Rodian seated at the admitting desk jumped up and raced around the counter to calm him, “Chunktau uhm gompacta fehr de gumptau duhn chanka.” A short, human male doctor ran through the doorway from the back room, “She says we got a garbled message about an accident, but the transmission broke up before we got any details.” The Rodian nodded emphatically, pointing to the doctor.

Etz caught his breath, “There was an accident in the canyons. Several kids in T16s racing a speed run . . . three hurt that I know of.” As he listened, the doctor was already grabbing several cases of gear and supplies, “I have a medical transport speeder ‘round back” he said. “You lead the way, but don’t lose me” he said, wagging a finger toward the front door, “I don’t think I can keep up with your bike.”

Etz nodded, already turning around and heading out the front to the swoop as the doctor disappeared down the rear hallway. He threw his armored leg over the saddle of the bike and raised the engines from idle standby to maximum power. The doctor’s transport speeder slipped around the low, stone wall into the front courtyard as Etz prepared the bike. He rolled the handgrip down, throttling up the main thrusters. The bike rolled slightly left on its’ repulsor field and roared away in a cloud of dust.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Blade’s voice came over my helmet’s comm set as I stepped off the lift into the cache, “Deckard, there’s been an accident, and we’re needed out in the canyons of the wastes. We’re on our way back to HQ, meet us there.”

The sound of my boots on the floor echoed in the silent room as I ran across the open storage area toward the transport, “Got the message . . . I’m already there.” I pulled down the lever to open the upper bay doors and stepped up onto transport’s tailboard.

A glance skyward at the shield showed patches of sunlight streaming through small mounds of settled sand on the outside of the energy barrier. I moved forward into the cockpit, “Meet me in the courtyard out back, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Copy that” came his response as I pulled off my helmet, switched the comm to broadcast mode, and tossed it on the seat beside me. I switched on the power, bringing the engines online as I clipped into the restraint harness. The transport rose from its hovering position as I eased back on the main controls, pushing through the shield barrier overhead, and out into the courtyard. Felth, 4120 and Blade spilled out of the alley as I emerged into the afternoon sunlight, “Let’s go!”

* * *

[Tyranus]

The sky over the jungles of Yavin IV had grown dark grey and clouded over menacingly. Commander Skywalker sat high atop the Massassi Temple in the cool air, trying to calm himself . . . to let go his conscious self, and act on instinct, as Obi-Wan had taught him.

His eyes were closed as he concentrated on his breathing. He felt his heart slowly beating in his chest as his lungs drew in air, and exhaled it away. These were natural rhythms and were the center point of his focus as he began to feel something. It was something new. It wasn’t the same rippling sensation he had felt on the Millennium Falcon while training with Ben and his seeker remote. It was . . wet!

He opened his eyes to witness the most bizarre and amazing event he had ever seen. Naturally occurring water was freely falling from the skies in tiny droplets. He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back, allowing them to splash on the exposed skin of his face. The farmboy from Tatooine, turned Rebel Commander, had never experienced rain before, and he was amazed.

He was taking in the exotic rainstorm when Leia emerged from the dark stone stairwell. “Come on, flyboy, it’s not safe up here.” Luke opened his eyes, turning to look her way, “Why not?” She reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet “When it rains like this there’s usually a discharge of . . .”

As she spoke the words, a slash of lightning ripped jaggedly through the dark sky, illuminating her face and was immediately followed by a heart-pounding crash of thunder. As the crash rolled into a rumble she finished her sentence, “Lightning”.

Luke stood and followed her down the dark stairs, “I’m sure where you come from that happens all the time, but where I come from, I had to work hard every day of the season on broken down ‘vaporators to get a fraction of the water that just spontaneously dropped out of the sky!”

She stopped, taking in his words “Well, if the location we’re hoping for in a new rendezvous point works out, you’ll get the chance to see another form of water falling from the sky, only this kind comes down frozen! I came looking for you because I need your help. Dodonna’s busy in a strategy meeting and I need your thoughts on how best to proceed. We have a force of combat-ready T-47 airspeeders, but the techs say they won’t hold up in the temperatures we could potentially expose them to.”

He blinked away his vacant stare, as if he had been visualizing her words, and looked at her, “What location did you have in mind?” She looked around, then back to him, lowering her voice “Very cold temperatures. Hopefully a place the Empire would think we’d avoid. Any thoughts on the speeders?”

He looked away a second, then back to her, “You said T-47, right? Incom?” She nodded. He thought more for a second “I remember hearing Fixer talk about a friend of his who worked in a shipyard. The T-47 was designed as a civilian airspeeder, for cargo handling, and was used on the loading platforms. This friend rebuilt and modified one of the older de-commissioned speeders to fly in a race in cold temperatures. I know he added de-icing gear to keep the stabilizers and flaps clear, and I think he put in heater coils near the drive units. It ended up racing fine, so I know it can be done.”

She nodded again, “Thanks. I’ll get that information to the right people.” He smiled, “How long before we evacuate this place?” She began her descent down the curving spiral stairs once more as she spoke, “We’re negotiating a deal now to get the necessary ice-cutting tools so our crews can begin carving out the new location. It’ll take a while to get everything ready for us to use it. We’ll need to set up the facilities and power generators, but we can’t stay here long. A few months maybe, but after that, the Empire will have re-grouped its forces and be on our doorstep ready for some payback. We may need to move in prematurely and build it up as we go.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

Here's a little more to the story:

Under the watchful eye of the moisture farmer, the group of young local pilots stood gathered at the canyon’s rim far above us, peering through macrobinoculars at the wreckage and scattered debris field below, their baggy tunics flapping wildly in the late afternoon winds.

Rogue had instructed both the drop ship and the shuttle to be set down at the base of the Stone Needle, near the wreckage of the two airships. We had taken the transport and were slowly gliding over the scattered debris that was leading us back to the original point of impact. Topolev, Falker and I were watching off the tailboard and over the open sides for any signs of life as Blade piloted, slowly creeping along. The initial point of impact was several hundred meters behind the smoking remains of the ships, with a scattering of parts flung across the stony floor and high into the jagged cliff rocks.

Back at the ships, the fuel gel in the T-16s had long since burned away, and all that remained now was hot twisted metal . . . neither craft would ever fly again. Camie sat with the doctor on the ramp of the sentinel as we worked to get inside the tangled mess. “There’s no pilot in this one!” shouted Etz as he and 0600 shoved aside a panel of metal. From the other ship came Danz’ reply in a shout “Nobody in this one either, but the safety cage looks like it ejected before impact.”

4120 and Ddraig walked away from Etz and began looking for the ejected cockpit portions. Felth and 1265 took the other side of the canyon. They spread out as they walked past the enormous vertical stone column in the center of the canyon floor known as the Stone Needle.

Ddraig looked up at its jagged sides as they walked past. From this low angle, he could only see a small bit of sky through the smooth, wind-carved slot in the center of the upper portion of the natural monolith. To his right, another canyon branched out and away from the huge stone obstruction. His thoughts flashed back to their stomach-churning drop from the Devastator and Lt. Tank’s last minute roll into this canyon on their way to Mos Eisley.

Felth and 1265 were finding more small debris but nothing that resembled a cockpit when 4120 took off running a short distance over a small stony rise and down into the small rut beyond it, “I’ve got one of them!” Falker ran over to get a good look, “It’s Loneozner. Looks like he’s alive . . . for now.”

A teary eyed Camie jumped up off the boarding ramp and ran to follow 4120, Rogue and the others, as Blade turned the transport around. The doctor caught up to Camie and grabbed her arm, holding her back. He spun her around to face him, “Let us check them first, we have no idea how bad things are in there. You may not want to see this.” She tugged her arm away from him, but agreed to wait. He hurried ahead to where 4120 was, “Don’t move him.”

The doctor was looking over Fixer as Felth and 1265 continued their sweep on the other side of the canyon. As they circled around to come back to the first cage, 1265 noticed a small jutting overhang above them. He crossed over to the sentinel, up the ramp to the cargo area and opened a small panel, retrieving what looked like a blaster rifle. Felth watched as he walked back over to the overhang and pointed his blaster toward the stone wall above it and fired. The blaster in his hand shook as a coiled line was deployed behind a spiked hook.

As the sharp hook slammed into the stone wall, secondary durasteel anchors instantly deployed, digging into the rock. 1265 gripped the handle of the blaster tightly and squeezed the trigger a second time. The gun rapidly wound up the line, pulling him off his feet and up to the overhead stone shelf. Blackened, streaking scars ran along the stone wall and the second cage lay on its side, crumpled against the canyon wall. “The second one’s up here!” he yelled back down.

Camie looked over to 1265 and spoke softly almost to herself, “One? There should be two in there. Deak was riding with Windy in the other ‘hopper.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

In the absolute still, frozen silence of space along the outer reaches of the Hydian Way near Ord Radama, a tiny speck of a ship approached and slipped beneath the superstructure of the immense Star Destroyer Subverter. As it approached the main hangar bay, its electronic identity signature was read by one of the flight techs sitting at a long console. He flipped off the indicator and read through the transmitted beacon information on the monitor before him.

He stood sharply, flinging his seat back as he leaned forward to look over the console, through the transparisteel pane into the bay below. The outside corner of his left eye began to twitch slightly. Down in the massive bay, amidst the racks of secured TIE Fighters and shuttles, he saw the unmistakable bent wings of a modified TIE fighter coupling with an overhead mooring.

He turned away and ran to the bulkhead comm at the end of his row and slapped his hand down on the transmit key as the other techs in the row twisted around to see what was happening, “Commander, Lord Vader has just docked in the main bay. I say again, Lord Vader is alive and has just docked in the main bay!"

* * *

[Tyranus]

Ddraig adjusted the controls, bringing the repulsor sled even with the edge of the stone outcropping. Felth and Topolev stepped off the floating platform onto the ledge and moved closer to the cockpit cage to help 1265 get the pilot out. Camie screamed from below “There’s only one?”

Ddraig looked down at her, “Yes, only one. Should there have been more?” The feisty, dark-haired girl on the canyon floor yelled back up to him, “Yes! Deak and Windy were riding together. Deak has black hair, Windy has brown. Which one do you have?” Ddraig turned around to look at the others pulling the pilot out of the cage. The unconscious kid had black hair. He turned back to her, “We have Deak. There’s no sign of Windy.”

Felth helped 1265 lay Deak out on the flat rock. He was battered and cut up pretty severely, and one of his arms appeared broken, but he had a pulse and was breathing. As they checked him further, Topolev had turned and was following the curved top of the overhanging rock they were standing on. It disappeared around the corner into the side canyon they had taken on their first approach to Mos Eisley.

As he was rounding the corner, he heard faint grunting noises coming from the canyon ahead. As he cleared the stony corner, he saw a Tusken Raider, maybe forty meters away, securing Windy’s unconscious body over the back of a Bantha saddle.

He reflexively pulled the E-11 from his holster, took aim at the creature, and fired. Through the reticle of his scope, he saw the creature turn suddenly, his blast striking it in the upper arm instead of the head. The howl of pain from the Raider roared down the canyon, echoing off the stone walls as it jumped into the saddle.

Topolev was taking aim for a second shot, and the other troopers were all running along the canyon floor to see what had happened when the startled young Bantha took off at a full gallop and disappeared into a deep, windcarved crevasse in the side of the canyon wall.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Rogue and the others were working the rescue operations, moving Fixer and Deak into the medical speeder for transport to Bestine and better medical care as Topolev, Blade, Etz and I ran, with blasters drawn, into the mouth of the narrow slot canyon. The fading sunlight of the afternoon seemed amplified here as the walls glowed an eerie orange. The twisting passageway snaked this way and that, further and further back into the cliff.

It continued to narrow and darken until finally, we came upon the Bantha, abandoned and left blocking the entrance to a cave that disappeared into the hillside itself. I grabbed the Bantha’s reigns and moved it aside as the others headed into the darkness.

I let the braided leather strapping go and stepped inside the stone opening, remembering our last journey into one of Tatooine’s caves. The heads up display in my helmet activated immediately, scanning in infrared. I was moving a bit slower now, as my eyes adjusted to the display, but I managed to catch up to the others, who were moving a bit more cautiously as well.

The cave walls became smoother and smoother the further in we went, and the grade of the floor began to angle down as well. The smooth, curving natural walls were now clearly a hand-crafted tunnel.

Light spilled from tiny airshafts into the dark hallway in regular intervals, momentarily rendering the infrared useless and nearly blinding us. We kept moving, advancing hopefully toward the Raider and the boy he had taken.

We could hear the Raider, up ahead somewhere in the darkness, running away from us with his unconscious prize, deeper into the hillside. Suddenly Topolev stopped, as our helmet displays suddenly snowed over and the images became scrambled. “Buckets off”, he said, “Something in here’s interfering with our gear.” We all pulled our helmets off and continued on in the dark, running our hands along the smooth walls to find the way.

As we pressed on, the walls became uneven and bumpy. A light streamed into the tunnel ahead, fed by a large air shaft. As we moved closer to the lighted area, the source of the uneven walls became apparent.

The natural crevasse that led us into the cave and hand-carved tunnel had taken a turn for the grisly, as the “walls” were now made up of thousands and thousands of carefully stacked bones and skulls . . . placed in a tight, interlocking pattern. We all stopped to take in the scope of the dead that filled these chambers. Etz was the first to speak, “Where the **** are we?”

We were all stopped, staring at the stacks of leg bones and skulls. We had all seen and dealt our fair share of death, but none of us had ever seen the tedious, ritualistic placement and arrangement of bones into decorative patterns like this.

“I have no idea”, I responded as I ran my hand over some of the carvings in the stone, “but we need to keep moving or that kid, Windy, will end up as part of the pile.” I hurried off down the passageway calling over my shoulder, “We can find out more about this place later.”

Etz took one last look before he turned to follow the rest of us.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Felth and 1265 carefully moved Deak from the hovering repulsor sled onto the softer repulsor-gurney and into the right side of the waiting medical transport speeder. The doctor was working on Fixer along the opposite side as they slid him into the cramped space.

4120 and Camie watched from the ground outside as the doctor used water from the farmer’s moisture collection tank to clean away dried blood from Loneozner’s face, exposing the laceration. He opened a package of bacta gel and squeezed some of it across the opening, then prepared a bandage to cover it. As he secured the bandage, he shot a glance over at Deak. The young man’s nose was angled sharply to the side, undoubtably broken, as was his arm, “Not quite as cut up, but still not good. We’re going to have to transport these two to Bestine as quickly as possible. If your other troops aren’t back soon, you’ll need to bring the other one along when they return.”

4120 nodded and turned away from the med speeder as he activated his chin-switch, “Deckard, what’s the update on your pursuit? Deckard?”

Rogue stepped over to him, “I’ve been trying to reach them too, they’re not responding. I’m going up to the rim in the shuttle to disperse the crowd and load up the swoop bike. I’ll be back for you shortly. Keep trying."

* * *

As I was running along in the darkness with my hand trailing along the wall, I suddenly heard Etz and Blade fade away from behind me. Topolev and both stopped, retracing our steps as I yelled, “Etz!”

“Yeah, Deckard we’re here. I think the tunnel forked”, said Etz. We backtracked until we all came together again. “Etz and I must have been following the wall on the right side” said Blade.

“Yeah, I was following the one on the left”, I replied. “Great. The tunnel branches off here.”

I flicked on my E11 and peered down each of the hallways through the scope, now displaying in infrared mode, but saw nothing. “We’re gonna have to split up. We have no idea which way the raider went.” As I spoke, there was a crackling coming from the comm inside my helmet: “Csssshhh . . . Deckard . . . Deckard, you there?”

I pulled my bucket on, hearing 4120 coming through the headset. I clicked the chin switch, “Deckard here. We’re in pursuit of the Raider and the boy. Be advised there is a comm blackout area in these tunnels, you’re coming through, but barely.”

There was a moment’s silence, then 4120’s chopped signal again, Cssssshhhh: “Falker and Felth will remain behind here for you with the Sentinel. Rogue, 0600, 1265 and I are heading to Darklighter Water. Ddraig and Danz will be escorting the doctor to Bestine. Find that boy.”

I nodded imperceptibly in the dark, “We will. Deckard out.” I pulled off my bucket, “Falker and Felth are waiting for us, the others are heading out. You two go that way, Topolev and I will head this way. Watch out for that raider, he obviously knows this place better than we do.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

He felt the silent, heavy energy of his Ghorfa ancestors pressing down on top of the already heavy weight of the unconscious human on his back as he ran through the sacred grounds. Beneath the pointed spikes thrusting out of his head wrappings, far inside the depths of his quasi-human brain, in a language understood by few outside his kind, his thoughts raced as he skillfully moved through the darkness.

He had been brought here before, many years ago by his elders and shown the destructive power of things outside the clan. Vivid memories of a frightened young child clinging to his grandfather’s hand surfaced in his mind as he remembered seeing all those bones for the first time. The fearful images that the Shaman’s stories of an ancient and unforgiving plague painted in his mind were as clear today as they had been then.

The story of the great fireball that fell to the surface, as with all of the Shaman's stories, had been told around the tribal fires. The warriors and elders had rushed to inspect it, finding large chunks of frozen water at the crater of the comet. They were quickly collected and taken away as gifts from the gods. The ice melted, yielding large amounts of water, which was celebrated and consumed with the belief that it would yield mystical powers by any who drank of it. In reality, the revered water of the gods had carried deadly microbes from the far reaches of space. The numbers of the dead grew so rapidly that the bodies could not be disposed of fast enough.

Further spreading of the plague to those who had not drunk the water, compromising the last hope for continuing their race, was feared. Those that had drunk from the infected water that were lucky enough to have been immune to the ravages of the plague suffered an alternately gruesome fate, becoming the “keepers of the dead”.

Those poor souls had the job of removing traditional wraps and moving the naked, rotting corpses of their friends to the area of the “great sands” (the Teeth of Tatooine) to be stripped of their flesh. When the grisly task was complete, and only the bones remained, they were moved to these caves and reverently stacked and placed with great care and artistry. This simultaneously removed the unclean from the tribes and created a monument to their immense suffering.

He stopped to adjust the weight of the human across his shoulders and heard others coming down the passageway behind. Others had hunted Bantha or desert Wraids to be the victim of their bloodrite torturing. He would be revered as a mighty hunter if he could successfully evade his pursuers and torture the captured human, extending the suffering and agony for as many weeks as possible before death.

Once that was completed, he would have only the largest and final task. To hunt and slay a Krayt Dragon, and retrieve a stone from its stomach. He gripped Windy’s forearm and ankle as he ran, pretending it was the shaft of the gaderffii that would be bestowed upon him by the High Urr'Ak once he passed these tests and became an adult hunter.

On his left he passed a dark tunnel opening and then an air shaft above, spilling light. He turned his head momentarily to the side to look into one of the two chambers of elders. The bones here were arranged in circular patterns, one in each chamber, to honor the suns Tatoo I and Tatoo II.

The darkened steps, the end of the nightmarish detour through these sacred grounds, were now just ahead as he had remembered.

He raced up them into the warmth of the fading afternoon sunslight, running out across the courtyard of the Kumumgah.

This was the oldest known ruin on Tatooine. It had been crafted by the hands of the original Tatooine inhabitants, and had been preserved from the destructive sands by the canyon walls which surrounded it.

Ancient stories suggested that both the Ghorfa and the Jawas descended from the Kumumgah, but no one knew with any certainty.

*

Blade nearly ran into Topolev and me as the two twisting passageways we had both been following separately finally rejoined. There was light here, streaming into two bone chambers, one on either side of the tunnel. In the light emanating from these rooms, we were barely able to see the only way out of these passages . . . stone stairs on the far wall.

*

The Tusken was almost across the courtyard to the crevasse in the wall on the far side which led out to the next canyon, when multiple crimson bolts from Imperial blasters pierced his back and exploded through his chest, spraying his blood ahead into the sand where he now stumbled and fell. Windy was thrown forward, rolling off the raider’s shoulders and away from his struggling captor.

The four of us ran across the stony courtyard, blasters at the ready, and moved in to check the body. The ragged breathing through the screened mouth stopped and the shuddering body went limp as the last of his life and blood drained away. Topolev and Blade were scanning the stony cliffs above while Etz moved in to check Windy, “He’s alive. Get Falker and Felth here so we can transport this kid to Bestine.”

I was already on the comm.

* * *

[SkalenFehl]

One of these days I gotta sit down and just read, read, read. I really enjoy fan fiction and have written a lot for the tfn forums. Sadly no TD stories though...yet.

Keep up the great work! I hope to get a chance and offer some feedback soon.

[Tyranus]

Thanks!

I hope you enjoy it.

I look forward to your feedback, as I do from anyone reading!

[SkalenFehl]

I know what that's like and I can tell you put a ton of effort. I will see about reading some more. Looking back I remember now reading some and commenting on the Death Star's hyperdrive capabilities.

[Tyranus]

Yes, you did make some comments in the past. I remember now.

I really appreciate it and your kind comments. I try to put a lot of time and thought into the posts, not only to move us along to what we know comes to be, but into those adventures that lie between the canon.

Thanks for reading!

Please encourage others to reply with comments!

[SkalenFehl]

If you want a much larger audience you can post your fics at TFN's fan fic forums. I host a thread for guys who write fiction, most of it is action packed and this would fit right in. Come check us out if you'd like at The Gentlemen's Writing Guild and share your fic there.

The place to post your pic if it takes place during the same time as the movies would be The Saga Forum.

I've written and submitted a dozen or so stories, including an epic that bridges the gap between ANH and ESB. You'll have to register if you haven't yet to post stories and feedback for other writers. If MEPD opens up a small niche for fan fics, I can submit a couple. I do have a couple Stormtrooper stories to share. Maybe we can even collaborate some day and have some fun there.

[Tyranus]

I have both stories up in the Saga section on TF.n

My username there is Terek_Deckard

[Tyranus]

I did some late-night writing at the beach. Here's a new update. Please let me know what you think. <!-- s:) --><!-- s:) -->

The Subverter emerged from the vortex of hyperspace deep in the Tapani sector. Several robotic convoy ships, travelling the final leg of the Shapani Bypass at sub-light speeds, lumbered along toward the core systems, their cryogenically frozen crews unaware that the Star Destroyer had appeared behind them. The destroyer followed a course heading that took them past Mrissi on final approach to the orbital shipyards above Fondor. Lord Vader was anxious to reach the platform and oversee the final construction stages of his personal Super Star Destroyer, the Executor.

Deep within the Subverter, in a dark, private conference room, the Dark Lord of the Sith was kneeling, speaking with his holographic mentor, “Yes master, that is correct, I am approaching the Fondor shipyard. The Executor will soon be ready, giving us time to coordinate the ground forces, bomber squads and other TIE air support to move in on the rebel’s base before they evacuate their personnel.”

“Excellent”, replied the Emperor, “The whole of the Yavin system has been under constant surveillance to ensure that the rebels do not escape us. I sense that your intention is to lead the retaliatory attack against the rebels on the Yavin moon.”

“Yes, master. I will personally deliver our response to the destruction of the Death Star from the bridge of my new ship.”

The hologram of the Emperor paused momentarily, reflecting on the conversation, “It would appear that you have things well under control there. Proceed with your plan, Lord Vader.”

Vader bowed his helmeted head, “As you wish.”

The flickering bluish image of the Emperor continued to stare down at him, “Was there something else you wanted to tell me, Lord Vader? I sense something weighing on your thoughts.”

Vader considered his response carefully. He had purposely kept the thoughts and emotions concerning his son buried deep down, “No, master. Only thoughts of the task at hand.”

“Very well.”

As the image of the Emperor flickered away, Vader rose from his knees, revealing a breath-taking scene out his viewport. Fondor shimmered with brilliant blue oceans and swirled white clouds. The shipyards were situated in orbit far above the planet, and construction crews were hard at work on his enormous new vessel.

* * *

In the six or so weeks that had followed the crash in the canyon, things had calmed a bit around the spaceport. Our sweeps of the city and visits to the outlying moisture farms continued on in relative mundane tedium. Although the farmers were usually surprised, they were generally always happy to see us actually following through on our promises to be a presence in the region.

Rogue had spoken with Darklighter, and discovered that he too was the victim of sabotage and theft. Not only were his ‘vaporators being damaged and drained of their water, crops were being stolen from his hydroponic gardens as well. Supplies from his company warehouses had also been rifled through and some small items taken. If he was behind the issues we were investigating for the moisture farmers, he had been very careful to cover his tracks.

On several occasions, while showing me the best places to find ‘droid parts, I had engaged the Hammerhead, Nadon, in conversations about General Kenobi, but had learned precious little more than I had already uncovered. Kenobi, Luke and the ‘droids carrying the secret data were all intertwined somehow. If I wanted to know more about the man, and why he would have left with a local farmboy and the ‘droids we were hunting, I had to find his home.

I had a theory, untested as of yet, that involved the electronic signature of a moisture ‘vaporator’s condenser motor. If they had a strong enough signature to be read by the instruments on the Sentinel, I could use it to perform sweeps over the stony canyons of the Jundland wastes to search for Kenobi’s home. It wasn’t much, but if it worked, it might just be the best lead I had.

4120 and Etz had made several trips to Bestine to check on the status of the injured kids. Windy had recovered completely and been discharged with no memory of the Tusken abduction, but Deak and Fixer remained under the constant supervision of several med ‘droids. Fixer was definitely the worse of the two, with several broken ribs, a leg broken in three places, and multiple lacerations to the face and limbs. He also had yet to regain consciousness for more than a few seconds since the accident.

Deak had regained consciousness after about a week and had been recovering slowly, his own broken bones and torn muscles being regenerated daily in the therapy sessions with the ‘droids. The swelling and black eyes had faded, but the bandages and tenderness surrounding his now-straightened nose remained. He had improved dramatically, however, and could soon be released.

Camie had barely left Fixer since the crash, and had sworn she would be at his side when he awoke. The doctor assured her it was only a matter of time before that happened, once the slight internal swelling in his head had gone down sufficiently to relieve the pressure on his brain.

Back at base, in Mos Eisley, we had still not come to a decision about the imprisoned Commando, much to Etz’ discontent. The agreement to disagree as to the troopers’ fate had been one of quiet informality. One day had turned into two, which became a week, which had turned into several weeks. Etz had given up hope, switched off the repulsor field generator embedded in the carbonite and propped the prisoner up on an angle against the wall at the end of our bunkroom.

Ddraig and I had been trying unsuccessfully for four days to bring the damaged astromech online, having burned out two power sources while trying to figure out the wiring scheme. We were confident that we had worked through the errors and were ready to try once again. 1265 was in the ‘fresher, Topolev was on his bunk sipping cool water as he cleaned his E-11 and Etz was almost asleep on his as we worked. Rogue, Falker and 4120 were in the front office and Danz and Blade were out on a patrol.

I sat on my bunk and connected the ‘droids wiring harness to the power cells as Ddraig, sitting on his bunk on the opposite side of the little ‘droid, flipped on the small fusion furnace to jump-start the circuits. He looked over at me, I nodded to him, “All set here, go ahead.” He pressed and released the momentary contact switch on the fusion furnace, sending a pulse through the ‘droids circuits. Lights flickered on the front of the dome, which swiveled with a whirring sound a quarter turn to the right and stopped.

A slight curl of smoke issued from the front vents and a piercingly loud tone screamed out of the audio processors immediately followed by a pulse wave that shattered the container Topolev was drinking from and sent a chest-pounding concussion wave throughout the building.

Ddraig and I were shielding our faces as the sound subsided and the ‘droid powered itself off. “What the **** was that?” I asked. Ddraig shrugged his shoulders as the three from the front room raced through the door, “What was that?” asked Rogue.

“I have no idea”, I said, “we’re trying to find out now.” I checked the new power cells, “They’re fine.” I looked over at Ddraig, “What happened?” He was checking the fusion furnace, which had switched off, “I’m not sure, it doesn’t look like it was the furnace.”

As he spoke, Etz sat up on his bunk, “Look!” He was pointing across the room. The carbonite block had been shoved several feet along the wall and slammed into the corner by the strong push of the sonic blast. A yellow, oval light panel situated along the edge of the prisoner containment unit was blinking rapidly on and off as the internal systems came online and began the countdown to rapid thaw and carbonite liquification.

Fate had made our choice for us.

Suddenly, the room was flooded in a pale orange glow from the silvery metal slab as the thin carbonite covering the commando’s face began to heat up and split open. Where the cracks occurred, blinding beams of white light streamed out into the room, becoming brighter as the fissures on the metallic surface widened. We all shielded our eyes as we heard the high-pitched whistling sound of the sizzling carbonite melting off of the deep-frozen surface of the prisoner beneath, flowing away into small puddles on the floor, instantly cooling and re-solidifying.

As quickly as the process had begun, it ended. The whining whistle subsided, and the glow receded as the thin, icy shroud covering the trooper melted and steamed away as his body was forced through the quick-thaw process. His limp, armored body slipped forward, out of the remains of his carbonite cocoon, and he slumped to a heap on the floor. Convulsive spasms rocked his body, and his head and limbs shook uncontrollably as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Rogue, 4120 and 0600 lifted the convulsing trooper into the nearest spare bunk as Falker grabbed the blanket from the end of Danz’ bunk and draped it over him. As they fought to keep him from shaking himself off the bunk, dogtags hanging from a chain around his neck slipped out. Etz reached up, wrapped the chain around his right hand and snapped it off the Commando’s neck.

With his left arm holding the trooper down, he held the other up, opening his palm, revealing the upside down tag. He rotated it around to read:

HOLDER

6th Battalion

501st Legion

A second tag fell out from behind the first reading:

Tatooine Coring Project

“He’s one of us! It says HOLDER, 6th Battalion, 501st Legion. He was part of the Tatooine Coring Project.”

Falker grabbed the straps off his gearbag and clipped one end to one side of the bunk and stretched them across the Commando’s chest and arms to the other side, adjusting it tighter into a makeshift restraint, “Ddraig, grab some other straps. These convulsions are normal, but he might hurt himself if he’s not restrained. We need to get the doc from Bestine to check him out. The unusually long deep freeze might warrant more help than we know how to give.”

“Sure” replied Ddraig as he grabbed the straps off his bag and mine. Falker took them, securing the thighs and calves of the convulsing trooper, “He’s in bad shape guys. Actually, I’m surprised he’s alive at all. Well, now we don’t have the question of IF we should let him out, but rather what to do with him now that he IS out.” He flashed a glance to everyone standing around the room, “Holder is out of the carbonite, but he’s far from out of danger.

* * *

[Tyranus]

The doctor had two medical bags open and was busy placing electrodes on the shaking trooper, conducting several tests, as we stood around in the front office. Holder had made it through the night without incident, although there were moments of struggling against the restraints and barely coherent ramblings about traitors and how they would be sorry for their actions, as if he were reliving a moment from his past.

We had removed the upper armor pieces to allow for the doctors tests and had discovered that Holder’s upper limbs were severely withered and atrophied from inactivity. If he survived the first week, and his mental functions came back in line with reality, he could begin a physical reconditioning shortly thereafter, but it would take time to gain his strength back.

Ddraig was at the holonet port reading messages while the rest of us stood around waiting. I had two logic units and some tools in my hand and wasn’t due for a patrol for several hours. As the others talked quietly and peered into the bunk room, I stepped out the front portal to the streets and walked around the side of the building through the narrow alley to the courtyard in back. I walked over and sat on the edge of the loading dock in back, pulling off my helmet and setting it beside me. I took in a nostril full of the hot, dry air and positioned myself in the shade of the overhang with my ‘droid work.

As I worked, focused on the electronics in my hand, a dark-robed figure approached through the shadows of the alleyway. It was almost upon me when I noticed it and looked up. It was the Kubaz, Garindan. He began making squeaking noises as he spoke to me. I motioned for him to wait and pulled my helmet back on, switching on the translator unit. He began again, “Many sorrows for your fallen friend, back at bay 94.” I nodded my head as he continued, “Although Tyrell obstructed your ability to keep the Millennium Falcon from departing, I was hoping to perhaps receive a small amount of spice for my work performed. Rogue promised he would pay in spice for my services.”

I responded, “I’ll speak to him about it.” Garindan nodded and began to turn away when I stopped him, “In your time here, did you ever have the need or chance to discover the whereabouts of the hermit’s home?” The dark figure stopped and turned back, “No” he squawked, “I was following him once to see where he went, and suddenly found myself in a different place, unsure how I had gotten there, with a dull throbbing in my head. The hermit was nowhere to be found.” I laughed under my breath, Jedi mind trick.

I went back to work and Garindan lingered a few moments until he was sure I needed nothing more, and then he disappeared into the alley. I pulled my helmet off when he was gone. A wind blew through the courtyard, spraying sand against the base of the loading dock below my dangling boots. It was a hot wind, but wind nonetheless.

I couldn’t stop wondering what had caused the sonic wave. There was no damage to the ‘droid or the fusion charger. Once I had these logic processor units rewired and ready to install, I would run a diagnostic check on the power-up protocol code. It was as if the ‘droid had been told to emit the wave and then power itself off. As I worked, I realized that check might be a few days off though. These logic units were going to take some time. The pin configuration was much smaller than my tools. I would have to pick up a finer set to be able to proceed any further. While I was out, I would see about capturing the electronic signature of one of the moisture ‘vaporators on the street.

* * *

[Tyranus]

The suns rose and fell 12 times, cycling across the arid sands of Tatooine, and Holder seemed to be improving. His nightmares came less frequently now, and the tremors had lessened in intensity, but there was still no coherent speech, no direct eye contact.

The doc was worried that he might not recover from the insanely long freeze, but his estimates of a week’s initial recovery period were based on normal encasement increments. This case took everything he knew about hibernation sickness and tossed them in the dunes. He took notes religiously on Holder’s condition and improvements for possible future medical journaling.

Rogue and 4120 had announced several days ago that Davin Felth had been installed as our unit’s intelligence officer. He spent a great deal of time on the holonet collecting information about the identities of anyone known to be in the Outer Rim territories that was wanted by the Empire. He was deeply engrossed in his work, studying the faces and profiles until he knew them all.

He seemed to like the work and take it very seriously, but something was off a bit about Felth. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but ever since the day I had startled him as he checked his holonet account, something just didn’t click the way it should. Some of the other guys seemed to have similar feelings, but had not said anything to Felth or Rogue yet. I guess maybe they thought he was just sucking up to make an impression with his new CO.

Work had continued on the astromech, and we had gotten a lot done. The new tools I found for the logic units had worked well, and the systems were successfully installed. A few more days of diagnostic checks and we would be ready for another power-up attempt, most likely in the rear courtyard though, not inside again. It was mid-afternoon and hot. Etz and I were finishing up our patrol of the spaceport and on our way back to base when I saw Mamow Nadon talking with a pilot just outside Chalmun’s Cantina.

I clicked my chin switch, “You go on ahead, I’ll be along in a minute. I need to talk to the Hammerhead.” Etz nodded his bucket and kept moving as I crossed the sandy street. Nadon dropped several credits in the pilot’s waiting palm and was handed a small drawstring bag. He turned to go and caught sight of me approaching, “Officer Deckard, what can I do for you?” I motioned for him to follow me into the alley as I turned my head and checked the street in both directions. He followed me around the side of the Cantina. “I think I’ve found a way to search for Kenobi’s home, and I want you to come with me when I go looking.” He blinked and responded, his dual mouths uttering his stereo response, “What is your plan? He was a man that intentionally kept a low profile. He did not want to be found.”

I pulled out a small device from one of my belt pouches and held up the display for him to see as I pressed and held a small button on the side. There was a pattern of waves fluctuating across the small screen and a mid-level pulsing sound. “This is the pulse-wave signature of a moisture ‘vaporator’s condenser motor. All ‘vaporators have them, I checked. While there is any number of condenser motors, from different manufacturers, they all pulse at exactly this frequency.” The waves continued to dance across the screen, until I released the button and slipped the device back on my belt. I looked up at him, “I’m going to calibrate the sensors in our Drop Ship to sweep for this signal. You told me if you had to guess, he lived somewhere in the hills of the Jundland Wastes, and that he had a ‘vaporator for water. Now we have a way to search for it.”

Nadon nodded his head approvingly, “Excellent idea. I would be happy to accompany you. When did you want to begin looking?”

“Tonight. I need to know more about this man. If Lord Vader decides to come back here and deal with us for allowing Kenobi to slip away, I want to have more information about where he may have been heading, and why the boy was with him.”

“Tonight it is then. Where should we meet?”

“Right here. That’s the ship we’ll be taking, there” and I pointed out into the courtyard to the Sentinel. I’ll be back here once the suns have set.” He nodded and began to walk away as I stopped him, “What’s in the bag?”

“Seeds from my home planet. They just arrived. I can’t wait to plant them, to have a little piece of home.” and he walked away as several Cantina patrons came wandering around the corner and down the alley. They passed me, and I walked out to cross the street to the barracks.

There was a crowd in the Command Center as I entered from street, pulling off my bucket, “What’s going on?” Falker turned his head to me, “Holder’s starting to talk.” I walked past Ddraig, who was reading a holonet message, and stepped through the open doorway into the bunkroom. I moved past Blade and 0600 and dropped my pack on my bunk, catching site of Holder through the crowd of bodies that surrounded him.

His grey eyes darted around the room, and his words came in hoarse bursts that appeared difficult, and almost painful.

“Who are you? My vision is blurry as ****, but I’ve never seen armor like that before. Did you kill the rest of them, or are you going to get in the way too?”

“Kill who? Get in the way of what?” said Topolev.

He raised his sweaty, quivering head and neck off the pillow and yelled, “The Jedi! I have to kill the General . . . Obi-Wan Kenobi. He’s here, now on this planet! I’m not sure who you are, but you troops are just as much the traitors my squad mates were if you keep me confined.”

Ddraig spoke up, walking in from the Command Center, “You’ve been in a Carbonite block for the past 20 years. The reason you don’t recognize our armor isn't because of your fuzzy vision, it's because it is the evolved version of your gear.” Holder blinked his burning eyes as the room fell silent, all eyes on him. He tried to calm himself as the implications of the bombshell sunk in. A thin layer of cold sweat beaded up across his skin, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Twenty years gone. He looked from face to face around the room, trying to catch a glimmer of real truth to cling to through the haze.

Ddraig continued as Holder calmed a bit, “General Kenobi is already dead. Now that the holonet connection has been synched up again, I received an old message from my friend, TK1999, at Imperial Center on Coruscant. Lord Vader killed Jedimaster Kenobi in a lightsaber duel.” Fuzzy memories of his past sharpened and came into focus once again, as if it were yesterday, “Who is Lord Vader?”

Rogue stepped forward, “Lord Vader is the right hand of the Emperor.” 0600 questioned Holder from the back of the room, “How were your squad-mates traitors?” Holder trembled, “They kept me from killing that Jedi scum when I had the chance.” Rogue remained silent for a moment, thinking . . . looking around, “Every trooper in this room is loyal to the Empire. Tell us what happened to you.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

Holder took a breath with eyes closed. The memories were still congealing into coherent thoughts in his head as he began, “Bear with me. I’m still trying to adjust to the time slip. I was part of a team of Republic Commandos that was activated near the end of the Clone Wars. About a month in, the Emperor issued Order 66, making all Jedi Knights enemies of the Empire.

Understand, until Order 66 came down, we had been working, fighting and dying alongside the Jedi. Suddenly, they were the enemy. I never questioned Palpatine’s decree. It just never occurred to me to question whether or not my unit felt the same.

The Emperor’s Clone army was an amazing fighting force, but we all continued to age too rapidly. The Kaminoan cloners had created a serum that would reverset the aging process to a normal pace, but had never made it available. They wanted to continue cranking out wave after wave of clones, satisfying not only the initial order from JediMaster Sifo Dyas, but new, lucrative orders from the Emperor as well. Palpatine demanded the serum, and the Kaminoans hid it, denying its existence

Many rumors began to circulate about troops that actually ignored Order 66, refusing to fight the Jedi, and were subsequently rounded up to be dealt with. The problem with this was that many troops who were loyal to the Empire, like me, were also included in the roundups simply because of their clone vat lot numbers.

A small group of us escaped under the leadership of Kal Skirta, the Mandalorian trainer of the Commandos He wanted to find the serum and use it as leverage for more money from the Empire. Working together, we managed to find the Kaminoans and their age-reversion serum. Kal administered it to everyone in our group. He had to know that it worked.

For some, the changes were immediate. They began vomiting, followed by violent, bone-snapping seizures and then death. Those of us that didn’t exhibit any of the symptoms were lucky, although we still live with the constant unknown of what might yet happen to us as a result of that inoculation. Those remaining made it safely away, only to have bounty hunters, under orders from the Emperor to locate the serum, pursue us. Most of us escaped a second capture. Kal was not so fortunate.

He was captured, encased in carbonite, returned to Coruscant and placed in the Emperor’s prisoner garden.” Holder saw the expressions on the faces around the room, “Yeah, that’s right, the Emperor has a garden of prisoners sealed in carbonite slabs which he visits often. These prisoners had no hope of ever being released, and were therefore used as . . . ghoulishly artistic reminders of the futility of fighting against the absolute power of the Empire.

Knowing that we could never go back into the mainstream clone population again, and not sure of how we might have seriously altered ourselves, we intercepted a transmission and assumed a troop assignment to locate here and oversee the closing of the Pit. The Outer Rim became the best choice in case something was ever to go wrong with us.

As part of the protocols for closing the coring project down, Slicer, Torch, Jumper and I were removing some survey equipment in the canyons of the Jundlad Wastes. That location had been scouted initially for the presence of the specific ore that was needed. The original crew didn’t want to have to locate the dig site operations on this side of the planet if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. They knew the locals would all but lynch them if they did, but several small readings had been picked up on the scanners when the initial sweeps were made. Between the Raider and Jawa populations here, they would have been lucky to keep the machinery in one piece and running to get the job done.”

0600 interjected, “Who are Slicer, Torch and Jumper?”

“They are, I mean were, some of the members of my team. Being clones, we were all given names that best embodied our jobs and abilities. Slicer was a great systems hacker. Torch . . . well you get the idea. I was given the name HOLDER because I was the Holder of information, details and secrets, about the mission and about the men I served with.

We were breaking down the equipment and loading it up when it happened. It was late afternoon, and the suns had been **** hot that day. We were on the last ridge of hills before the Dune Sea. Jumper happened to notice a small ship that had set down in the sand at its edge. The ships’ canopy had been left open and whoever had been inside had left recently. My helmet scanners were still able to pick up mild thermal readings from the engines. We finished loading our gear and carefully trailed down the cliff and around into the canyon, so as not to be detected.

As we came closer, the ship’s class and markings clearly identified it as a Jedi Starfighter. I immediately called for backup on my helmet comm as we moved in closer. Others from the second and third survey groups quickly convened at our survey site and made their way down to where we were. As the others joined us, we fanned out to try and locate the pilot.

With all the Temple Knights that had been killed across the galaxy, it was possible it wasn’t a Jedi, but rather someone who had assumed ownership under questionable circumstances. We had made our way up into the hills when we saw a cloaked figure hurrying toward the ship.

The reinforcements, who were closer to the sandy bottom of the hill, approached him issuing orders to halt. The figure turned suddenly, extending his arm toward them, violently throwing the troopers back with an invisible push. Immediately we knew we were dealing with a Force-sensitive at the very least, and judging by his cloaks, most likely a fully trained Jedi Knight.

We all opened fire on him as he turned, again running toward his ship. Any doubts as to who the pilot was were wiped away when the Jedi drew his blue-bladed lightsaber with lightning reflexes to block the deadly bolts as he ran. He did so without so much as looking back, deflecting the first round of incoming blaster fire away, taking down two of our troops in the process. The winds, which had been gusting all afternoon, began to pick up strength considerably, blowing the sand across the ground in a fine haze, and the Jedi’s robes as he settled into a comfortable, centered stance.

More blaster fire erupted, which he again deflected. As I ran down the rocky hillside, adrenaline was pounding through me as I rushed to engage the fugitive Knight. I reached to my belt and drew my own hilt, igniting the crimson blade of a Jedi Hunter’s lightsaber. As I drew, three others also ignited their blades as they fired on him again. The others in my group and several in the support groups failed to draw or advance.

As he fluidly whirled, sweeping his sword in wide, circling arcs and deflecting the blaster fire, his blade sizzled and crackled, vaporizing the flying sand in small hissing sparks along its entire length. The expression I saw on his face clearly showed that he had not anticipated the emergence of our blades into the mix of the fight. I pulled off my helmet as I ran and threw myself at the Jedi. He caught my blade on his and rolled it away, thrusting me away with a strong Force-push as he made another wide arc deflecting yet more blaster fire.

The other Commandos with swords advanced, pulled off their helmets and jumped into the fight as they circled around him. I had regained my feet and re-joined the fight, my blade flashing and sparking as it made contact with his, only to find that the strength behind his blade was amazing. Obi-Wan Kenobi was now moving at blurred speeds, rolling and parrying every slice and chop we dished out when suddenly more blaster fire erupted, taking off the armored sword arm of the trooper next to me!

As he fell to the sand screaming, I whirled around to see the other troops, my squad-mates included, firing on us. A bolt sizzled past my ear, and I dove into the sand and rolled behind a sizeable rock as more bolts streaked by. The Jedi waved his free hand, using the Force to pick up and hurl several boulders toward the troops before he realized they were fighting on his side. Even with what was left of the newfound support he was surrounded.

I grabbed my blaster and squeezed off several shots, taking out the traitorous troops from the support survey teams. I couldn’t believe troops from my own unit were now fighting against me and alongside the Jedi. One of the other Imperial swordsmen drew back his arm, crouched and hurled his lightsaber end over end through the air, slicing through Jumper’s midsection and decapitating Torch. Slicer jumped behind a rock as the thrown lightsaber fell to the sand just short of him and switched off. I dove out from behind my rock reaching for the saber hilt as Slicer also crawled out to retrieve it.

My hand closed around it, and I pulled my own red blade up sharply, bisecting Slicer’s E-11. He fell back away from me as I rolled to a stance and glaring at him, turned and threw the sword hilt back to its owner. I lowered my blade to Slicer’s throat and ripped the lightsaber from his belt, clipping it on my own, “You don’t deserve to carry this!”

It was now three against one, and Slicer had been removed from the equation. The others continued to aggressively attack, wearing the Jedi down a bit in the extreme heat until one of the others was able to squarely land a kick to his face as the others engaged him. Two troopers then brought their swords down hard across the Jedi’s, knocking it from his grip and sending it flying away into the sand. A trooper quickly planted his foot on top of it to keep it from being recalled to the Knight’s hand.

Another trooper slashed at Obi-Wan, but he jumped up and away, tucking into a roll that landed him on his feet. Unfortunately it landed him squarely in the path of another kick to the chest which sent him reeling backward until he stumbled and fell into the sand, rolling over onto his belly.

The wind was blowing furiously now. He lifted his head from the sand, his hair whipping crazily as he clenched his teeth and lifted both hands, fingers spread wide, parallel to the ground. As the wailing wind rose to a fever pitch, he opened his mouth in a silent scream. The sound was sucked up by the roaring wind, as he drew on every ounce of strength he had, summoning the Force within him and within the landscape around him as he heard the instructions from an old lesson echoing from Masters Yoda and Qui Gon, “Even between the land and the ship.”

I felt an electric energy wash over me as every grain of sand within a 300 meter radius of Obi-Wan was suddenly hurled upward by the Force into the howling wind, resulting in a blinding sandstorm of cover. He rolled away as the screaming winds carried the sand in a swirling, Force-induced vortex. We were all instantly blinded as the flying sand bit into the exposed skin of our faces.

We had taken off our helmets to fight, and had lost our vision as a result. He pulled his hood over his head and reached out again with the Force, throwing aside the trooper that stood on his lightsaber as it was pulled to his hand. As soon as it landed in his palm, he stood and made his way through the blinding sandstorm to his ship.

Then, through the swirling sand I heard more blaster fire. Slicer had made his way to one of the other dead troopers and taken their sidearm. Using his helmet’s thermal imaging, he dropped the other Jedi Hunters one by one as he watched the heat signature of the Jedi Starfighter climb into the sky. I could hear several shots burning past me until one struck the lightsaber in my hand. I dropped it and fell backward to the ground as Slicer came to stand over me.

Suddenly, the sand dropped out of the wind back to the ground. The Jedi was gone. Slicer had his blaster trained on me as he cuffed my hands. He loaded me into our transport and took me back to the dig site. I had spared his life, and beside me, he was the last Commando left on the planet and nervous about what to do with me.

When he got me back there, he took me down to the freezing facility and unceremoniously locked me in a small chamber and sealed me in carbonite to buy himself some time to think. He must have left the planet or been killed, and I was left behind, forgotten.

I’m glad someone finally got Obi-Wan Kenobi. I just wish things had been different, and it had been me when I had the chance. Most of my memories are still kind of fuzzy, but that one is indelibly etched in my mind.”

Holder looked around the room as he finished his story, “I’m a little tired now. I’m going to try to sleep some.”

Everyone moved away from his bunk silently and headed out to the Command Center, closing the door.

Etz was amazed, “That’s a **** of a story. Twenty years gone, encased in carbonite by his own squad-mate.”

Rogue nodded his head in agreement, “It’s some story all right . . . if it’s true. We have no proof that any of that happened. He could just as easily have been the traitor.”

Falker nodded his head agreeing, “We may need to check the dig site for some supporting evidence. He might be the most loyal trooper in the Empire, and a Jedi Hunter. Then again, he might not.”

Rogue responded, “I think a trip to the dig site is definitely in order. Until we have more to corroborate his story, let’s keep an eye on Holder. Deckard, keep working on that ‘droid, it may yield some information on this as well.”

*

[Tyranus]

The late afternoon suns were slowly easing toward the sandy horizon and the barracks were buzzing with activity in preparation for the mission to the Dig Site. Ddraig, Etz and 4120 had gone ahead with their gear to bay 98 to prep the shuttle for the flight. It was decided that Felth and I would stay behind with Holder to maintain a presence.

Felth was being left to take over the night’s patrol and I was to focus on the ‘droid, whose repair had just jumped in importance. Everything we had been told indicated that the dig site was on the far side of the planet, but no one knew exactly where. I looked up from the motor controller I was wiring, “We can ask Nadon, he mentioned the site to me.”

Rogue shook his head as he hurried past with an armful of rifles, “He said he’d heard of it, not that he’d been there. We need someone with firsthand knowledge.” Topolev sidestepped Rogue and then walked past me, as he slung his gearbag over his shoulder, “BoShek knows where it is. He’s been salvaging mining machinery from the site and selling it.”

Falker looked up as he continued packing his own gearbag, “True, but BoShek is still delivering the latest shipment of those parts to Bespin, I just checked the signal on his locater this morning.” Rogue reappeared, “We can just slip into orbit and look for the site if necessary. If it’s as big as everyone keeps saying it is, we’ll be able to see it from there, but I would rather have someone with us who has been there before.”

Felth yelled in from the Command Center, his face remaining glued to the holo-data port, “Correction. BoShek is currently on his approach glide path, inbound from Bespin, and was just cleared to set down in bay 67. He must have jumped just after you checked him last, Falker.”

Rogue nodded, “Great work, Felth. Blade, Danz, go give him a nice welcome home and impress upon him our need for a guide on this mission. The Empire will compensate him if he needs an incentive. We’ll bring your gear.” They nodded, pulled on their buckets and hurried off toward the spaceport. He watched them go, talking to himself, “Yeah. He’s been there. That’ll help a lot.”

He glanced once more around the room, bucket in hand, making sure he had everything he needed. “It’s time to go. Topolev, grab a case of rations and we’ll eat on the way.” Topolev disappeared into the rear storage room, grabbed a casepack of rations and dropped it into his bag as he muttered under his breath, “I hate these dried up things.”

Rogue had moved into the Command Center and opened the main door to the street. The sunslight was now a fluid orange, washing over the rounded domes and streets of Mos Eisley. He stepped out, and the others followed behind. I stepped out and watched them walk off down the street as I fought once more to remember where I had heard Rogue’s accent before, but it wasn’t coming to mind. The black trooper outlines, silhouetted against the intense amber sunset, cast long shadows in the sandy roadway as they headed for bay 98.

I stepped back inside. It would soon be time to meet Nadon.

*

The Infinity’s engines were winding down as Blade and Danz stepped off the stairs onto the sandy floor of bay 67. The outer hatch released and opened slowly as the bo0arding ramp lowered. Slight creaks and groans echoed off the bare walls of the stark bay as the ship’s weight settled on its’ landing pads.

Moments later, BoShek ambled down the boarding ramp in his black pressure suit and helmet, pulling off his gloves. He reached up, releasing a small handle under the front of the head dome. The locking ring slipped sideways with a slight release of pressure as he lifted the helmet off. He caught sight of the waiting troopers and breathed in the fresh air as he motioned with an extended thumb over his shoulder, “Gotta get that atmospheric generator fixed one of these days. I hate the stale smell in this thing”, and he lowered the helmet to his left side. “What can I do for you this time?”

Danz stepped forward, “We have a need to visit the Dig Site, and a need for you to lead us there and through it. We can make it worth your while, maybe enough for your atmospheric generator.” The spacer rolled his eyes skyward thinking of the stale smell of his helmet, and that he could either help willingly and get paid, or pass and end up dead. Blade moved a bit closer, rifle held ready. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his tired face as he exhaled, “Yeah, I can do that. I did just get in from a long trip, though. Do I have time to stop in the Cantina for a drink first?”

“Not this time.” said Blade, moving closer to BoShek, “We’re leaving now. Grab what you need from inside and lets go. The others should be at the shuttle by now and ready to go.” The exhausted spacer turned and walked wearily back into the ship, setting his helmet down and checking the erg charge level on his blaster clip.

* * *

[Tyranus]

I watched as Felth stood up from the holonet port, grabbed his helmet and prepared for his patrol of the spaceport. On his own, it would take him most of the night to make the rounds. As I watched him from my bunk, Holder sat straight up in his and let out a howling scream, “My legs area cramping! Deckard, Help!”

I scrambled for the medi-pak, knowing that hibernation sickness cramps could rip the muscles right off the bone if not treated immediately. The lid on the medi-pak flew open and I grabbed the Injector Gun, shoving a muscle relaxant cartridge in as I ran back to his bunk and pulled away the blankets. He was thrashing around; his eyes squeezed shut as he winced in agony. I saw the muscles in his legs rolling and jumping as they spasmed uncontrollably.

With the muzzle pressed firmly against the contorting thigh muscle, I squeezed the trigger, injecting the medicine into his leg. As I did, Felth stepped through the doorway to watch. I shot him again in the other thigh and waited for him to respond. Slowly the tensed, churning muscles relaxed and the cramps subsided. Felth pulled his bucket on as I slipped a tracking chip from a belt pouch and walked over to him, “Hold on, your pack is loose.”

He stood still as I grabbed the pack and pressed the small transmitter into the foam filter of his air intake as I adjusted the pack strap for him. I slapped him on the bucket when I had finished, and he headed out the door. I pulled a small device from my belt and switched it on. A small blip appeared, moving away from the center point I had calibrated as headquarters. As long as Felth wasn’t at that center point, I was OK.

I went back in to check on Holder. The cramps had stopped, but his legs were aching from the damage that had been done. I reached into the medi-pak and grabbed a tranquilizer insert pack and pressed it into the gun. “This’ll help you rest more comfortably” I said as I injected the medicine into his thigh. I covered him with the blankets and he settled down as the medicine flowed through his bloodstream, calming him.

I walked over to put the injector back in the medi-pak, whispering to myself, “And it will buy me some uninterrupted time to do some searching.”

As I walked through the command center toward the front door, I happened to see the tail end of a holonet message being sent from Felth’s account. It was coded to “Base One” and “Skywalker”. Why would Felth be sending anything to someone named Skywalker? That was the farmboy, Luke’s name.

I looked back to the monitor, but the message was gone. Maybe it had been about Skywalker and not to Skywalker. I wasn’t entirely convinced, and I had a very bad feeling about it as I pulled on my bucket and headed out to the street. I turned down the alley and headed toward the rear courtyard to meet Nadon.

As I approached the end of the narrow passage, I saw our shuttle lifting away from the spaceport.

Now to test my theory.

*

[Tyranus]

The slight rattle of the air currents across the wide wings subsided as the shuttle passed out of the atmosphere into orbit. BoShek was seated in the navigator’s seat beside 0600, who was piloting. The blue-purple of the late afternoon sky transitioned to the black of space as they continued to ascend.

He wondered to himself what these troops were looking for and how they thought he might be able to help. He was tired. His eyelids closed over burning eyes. Not only did he deliver the parts to Bespin, but he was asked by the mine administrator to install the parts into another unit he had delivered some time before. His arms ached, his head hurt, he was hungry and had planned for a much better use of his time at a Sabacc table in Chalmun’s.

Now far beneath them, the surface of Tatooine slipped by as the shuttle accelerated toward the far side. 0600 turned to him, “Let me know when you think we’re close to the location.” The images of food, drinks and Sabacc evaporated as he opened his eyes, “I don’t think you’re going to need me to find it. I know Rogue was upset that I didn’t know the exact coordinates, but I never use them. Anyone could find this place from up here.”

He watched as the rocky Jundland Wastes disappeared beyond the horizon and the surface grew dark. They flew on over the darkness until he spoke again, “You should be able to see it soon. It’s not precisely on the exact opposite side.” His voice trailed off as the shadowy recess became visible like a huge stain on the surface below.

0600 switched his comm, “Rogue, we have a visual. This thing is bigger than we thought.” As he released the comm, he leaned forward to get a better view over the instrument cluster as BoShek commented, “The pit itself is gargantuan. The base of operations that I think you might be looking for is a complex on the Western side. See that depressed ring around the crater?”

0600 nodded. “That’s where the fools undercut too far and the overhanging rock began to collapse. It’s very unstable. Most of the equipment I salvage is found way down in the bowels of that hole. I can’t get loaded and get out fast enough.” 0600 nodded his agreement as he pushed forward on the controls beginning their descent, “I can understand why.”

*

[Tyranus]

Nadon slouched in the navigator’s chair beside me, staring at the instrument panel before us for any indication of a match for my ‘vaporator motor signature. So far, there had been no such indication. He stretched his leg out and back and flexed his long fingers on the armrest.

We had been flying for several hours now, methodically and painstakingly overlapping our sweeps of the whole expanse of the Jundland Wastes and surrounding mountains. We had started at points closest to Mos Eisley and worked our way out, widening the search area as we made our way toward the Dune Sea to encompass it all.

I had tested the sweep sensitivity over the ‘vaporators at Nadon’s home in the hills outside the city with success, locating them with ease. It would work, the instruments were working fine, there was simply not a match out here yet.

The Ithorian suddenly spoke, shattering the relative silence of the cockpit with his slow words, “In my experience, that for which we search most earnestly, is that which eludes us most skillfully.”

I continued watching out the front port, “That definitely seems to be the case so far, but I think if I’m ever going to find General Kenobi’s home, this is my best chance of ever doing so.” I reached for the handheld locater lying on the panel before me, tilting the screen toward me. The blip was still near the outer fringes. “Felth is still patrolling the city. We have a little more time before dawn, at which time he’ll be returning to headquarters. We have to be back before that happens.” Nadon nodded, his eyes blinking slowly.

As we continued on into the darkness, I wondered what was happening on the far side of Tatooine, and hoping the others were faring better than we were in their search for information.

Holder’s story could either be absolute truth or Gundaark droppings. We needed something to put our minds at ease about him and how to deal with him once he recovered. We had to be able to trust him with our lives, to watch our backs. We had to know for sure, there could be no question.

I closed my eyes and stretched a bit. The little astromech was almost ready for another power-up attempt. A few days and it would be ready.

The Sentinel continued on, flying into the darkness above the gently blowing sands of the cool and deceptively serene Tatooine night.

* * *

[Tyranus]

The shuttle’s flight path had taken the others away from the spaceport traffic that surrounded Mos Eisley and off in the same direction as the planetary rotation. As they drew closer to the surface, 0600 realized that by doing so, they had skipped over the Tatooine night. His hands moved over the instruments making small course adjustments, “Great. Work all day, take off and fly right into another day. I hope everybody in the back had the sense to shut their eyes, ‘cause it looks like dawn just broke. It’s a new day already.” BoShek nodded somewhat as he drifted in and out of the haze of subconsciousness.

The ship knifed through the air as 0600 pulled back on several control arms and leveled out, skimming across the surface. BoShek sat up and forward, rubbing his eyes and face, fighting back the fatigue as the daylight now streamed in through the sloping front port, “One part of this rock looks pretty much like another; sand, rocks, stony mountains . . . all of it parched and dead.”

Below in the cargo area, Rogue unclipped from his jump seat and stepped up behind them to get a better look at where they were. The rolling, sandy edges of the Dune Sea gave way to massive stone ridges and jagged spires thrust up from beneath the surface. Strange rock formations slipped by beneath the Lambda class shuttle as they drew closer to the dig site.

With his eyes remaining focused through the transparisteel on the rugged landscape ahead, he directed a question to BoShek, “How much further is it?” The spacer took a good look at the familiar landscape and estimated roughly in his head, “Ten minutes maybe?” Rogue nodded and headed back down to prep the others for their arrival.

*

The blip that showed me where Felth was had begun to move back toward the center point. “Looks like it’s time to head back. Felth is finishing his perimeter patrol and heading back to base through the spaceport. He’ll probably . . .”

It was at that moment while I was speaking that one of the panel monitor’s suddenly emitted a tone and data began scrolling down the screen as it searched to cross-match the signal it had picked up. Nadon sat up in his chair and watched with keen eyes as the data continued to scroll. Then, the data stream halted for a second, and a final flashing status line was displayed:

Class III Evaporative Condenser Unit

Model: Unknown

Motor Frequency: MATCHED

Motor Type: SM999

Malfunctions Noted: Valve Adjuster (Collection Tank is Full)

He looked up at me, “It looks as if the elusive has just been uncovered. Well done, boy. Well done.” I recorded the location of the signal and switched off the sensors, “Now we know where it is, but we’ll have to come back. Felth is almost done with his patrol, we have no time to spare. This will have to wait until we have more time to spend.” He shook his large head in agreement as I banked the ship into a curving turn and headed back to the city.

*

[Tyranus]

The air, heated by the early morning suns, was already oppressive and washed over the disembarking troops as they descended the boarding ramp and out from the cool shadows of the ship. They stepped off to the drawn, cracked ground outside, rifles at the ready, and stopped momentarily, looking around to get their bearings and assess the surroundings. Like BoShek had said, it was pretty much like every other part of this rock they had seen. Stretching out before them, leading away through a light sandy haze to a jagged, jutting range of hills was a flat, dry expanse of ground.

Their backpack units silently cycled on with mild vibrations they all felt in the shoulder straps. Thermal body gloves switched into cooling mode, and as the group turned away from the hills and passed beneath the sloped nose of the shuttle, the headquarters for the dig site came into view.

The only sound to break the dead calm was that of the occasional wind gust blowing between the barrels of the wing-mounted guns overhead, and around the extended flaps of the landing gear. It also whipped through and around the now-silent towers, buildings and equipment of the dig site that had been left behind. A swarm of Skettos, disturbed by the appearance of the shuttle, was now settling back to the peaks of the stony ridges to watch the arrival of the newcomers.

As large as this facility before them was, it was dwarfed by the enormous pit that lay behind it to the East. In the distance, the ground seemed to break and angle steeply down toward the crater. This was the very precarious overhang that BoShek had mentioned. Beyond the rim, the dark, gaping hole stretched out as far as the eye could see toward the distant horizon.

BoShek unzipped the seal on several diagonal vent openings across the front of his suit and one under each of his arms as he stepped over to Rogue with sweat forming on his brow, “C’mon, let’s go. The main office complex is over there” he said, pointing. He began walking toward the abandoned remains of the Imperial facility, with the assembly of ten troopers falling into step behind him. Danz glanced down and out the lower opening of his helmet at the arid ground beneath his boots as they walked, shaking his head and thinking about his childhood home on the ocean-covered world of Bestine IV.

The tired, worn buildings of the site now towered above them, stretching up into the sky. The smell of machinery and lubricants was almost as heavy as the silent presence they felt here. They could nearly hear the echoes of the silenced voices and activity as they continued down the man-made canyon of buildings. Rubble and broken pieces of that distant past were now strewn everywhere.

The facility had clearly been worked to the limits for many years, coring out huge volumes of ore to supply secret Imperial construction sites with the raw materials to build bases, ships and Tarkin’s Death Star for the Emperor. Tarkin was a shrewd one. He had undoubtedly seen to it that the coring project operated outside the scope of the Mining Guild, although out here on the fringes of explored space, no one would have pressed the issue anyway. They continued on until BoShek stepped up to a large bay door and gave it a hefty shove with his shoulder, moving it aside and entering into the large room beyond. All filed through after him into a deep, but narrow warehouse-style room. Light filtered through milky, opaque plates of worn transparisteel and far overhead was an arched ceiling.

Their guide walked past a huge, rusting hulk of a machine of some unknown type on their left as he moved toward the back of the room. “The metals of this equipment act like a condenser plate”, he said as he walked past not bothering to stop or look back, “They heat up during the day and cool off at night, forming moisture, which in turn causes rust. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to continue salvaging here. The rust is getting worse and worse all the time.” Falker ran his gloved hand over the rusty machine as he passed by.

BoShek continued on to an opening in the wall just beyond. He switched on the overhead illuminators which shed dim light down a long hallway. “We’re not far now. The offices are down here”, he said as he continued along. "These lights are powered by the suns. Some of the illuminators are burned out, but there’s light in most places.” The group walked in silence, save the clatter of their boots and the clapping of armor plates. After several minutes of walking on a gentle, downward slope, they came to a massive set of thick, heavy blast doors, which thankfully had been left open.

Etz, who was in the rear of the group with Blade, noticed a slight flicker in the light. He glanced back down the hall behind them and thought he saw a black shape disappearing to one side of the distant doorway. He dismissed it almost immediately; certain it was a shadow, then looked back once more to settle the doubt that had immediately set in.

The hallway finally opened into a larger room. A hovering repulsor sled sat beneath the overhead illuminator in the center of the room.

“This is the main office, or what’s left of it” said BoShek, spreading out his arms to show off the space. “Most things were probably stripped when the dig was shut down, but this is it.” The troops spread out and began searching for anything that linked Holder to this site as Rogue spoke to the spacer, “Where is the carbon-freezing chamber?”

BoShek turned around to face him, “That’s down a few levels. Let’s make sure you’re done here, and then we can move on and head down there.”

Rogue nodded and stepped away to join the search as BoShek turned to cautiously peered back down the hallway, one hand on his blaster.

* * *