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

[Tyranus]

Having successfully passed through the treacherous, chaotic asteroid field which occupied the erratic, outer orbital fringe with little damage, the rebel cruiser sailed smoothly toward the 6th and outermost planet of the Hoth system.

Under the ever watchful eyes of her bodyguards and personal aid, Alia, the leader of the rebel forces, Mon Mothma, returned to her seat as turbulence began to rattle the transport ship upon entry into the upper atmosphere. She peered out the port window as storm clouds far below raged across the ground with blizzard force, blasting fresh snow and ice across the frozen rivers, mountains and valleys on the wasteland of the planet below.

While the five planets closer to the Hoth sun were lifeless and primarily made up of toxic gases, Hoth VI was marginally hospitable for humans. Its axial tilt, orbital position and atmospheric makeup allowed life to exist, but was also cause for constant subzero temperatures. While the daytime temperature high hovered around -32 degrees standard, at night, those temperatures often plunged as low as -60 degrees, with gale force wind chills far surpassing that.

As much as she hated to admit it, this location for a base might just be crazy enough to work. While Snowtrooper units were plentiful in the Imperial forces, even the Empire never bothered with an outpost here, and for good reason. Any minerals that might be found here could be found elsewhere across the galaxy without the environmental hassle.

Two heavily armed Y-wing escort ships flanked the slow-moving transport as it began its descent into the atmosphere, following the transmitted glide path route toward ground coordinates somewhere on the inhospitable surface below.

She turned away from the window, thoughts racing through her mind. Touching Alia’s arm, she leaned in closer to whisper, “Has anyone heard from Garm Bel Iblis?”

The aid dropped her gaze and shook her head, “No, milady. Admiral Ackbar had a long meeting with him regarding his concerns for your leadership, but he has not been heard from since that time.”

The rebel leader closed her eyes and leaned back into the seat cushions. She turned again to the window, looking out across the stars and planet below. “You know, his accusations are unfounded. I have no interest in removing Palpatine only to replace him with myself. Bail Organa was my counterpart, co-leadership for what has become the Alliance. His murder along with the loss of Alderaan was shocking and tragic to the Alliance as a whole as well as to me personally, and left me with few options. I took over leadership control of the rebellion in a move to unify it and hold it together, not to seize personal power, and certainly not to alienate anyone, least of all Garm Bel Iblis.”

She turned to her aid and stared in her eyes as she spoke now, “I need you to know and believe that . . . feel that.”

Alia replied, “I have known that from the start, and do not question your dedication or intentions.”

Mon Mothma nodded slowly, smiling.

The crisp view outside the port window suddenly clouded over stark white, and the ship violently bucked as it descended into the heart of the storm’s wrath.

*

The newly-added rubber treads on the bottom of the fussy protocol ‘droid’s metallic feet fell silently on the duracrete planks of the hastily laid floor as he made his way through the rough ice corridor. Illuminators hung from wires wrapped around spikes that had been hammered into the ice walls to light the passage. Ahead, it opened into what was scheduled to become a central hangar for speeders and snub fighters.

These uneven walls of the narrow hallway had been carved from a solid wall of beautiful deep blue ice, and at any other time might have interested the easily-distracted golden ‘droid, but non of this concerned him as he searched frantically for Princess Organa, muttering to himself, “If only R2 hadn’t gone with master Luke. He would know where to find mistress Leia. Dear, oh dear, I can feel the oil in my joints thickening. Whoever had the brilliant idea for coming to an ice planet must have never . . . Princess Leia! Oh, thank the maker!”

The familiar image of the Princess stood several meters ahead of him reviewing plans for the hangar with the crew chief of the ice cutters. She heard Threepio approaching behind, but maintained her focus on the page, “This looks fine” she said, “but see if you can add a connecting corridor here to the command center, and small alcoves for the T-47 airspeeders we have on the way.”

“Airspeeders?” questioned the crew chief. “Princess Leia I’ve worked with those Incom speeders before and in this environment . . .”

She cut him off as quickly as he had started, “Yes, I know, they aren’t designed for this type of climate. I’m assured, though, that with slight modifications we can adapt them to work quite well.”

The crew leader rolled up the plans and headed back toward several massive shearing machines and his crew, “Alright everbody, we’ve got a lot to get done, and there are some new changes to the design, gather ‘round here so we can discuss them before we get started.” The men climbed down out of the cutters as he spread the plans out on a small ice shelf.

Leia watched him go and then turned around, “Yes Threepio, what is it?”

“The transport ship is on final approach.”

Leia looked away from the ‘droid as she answered, “Mon Mothma. Threepio, have a mid-sized, heated troop transport dispatched to the landing coordinates to meet her and her staff. Inform the pilot to bring them here and escort them to my chambers. All other supplies can remain in the ship’s hold until needed.”

“Yes, mistress Leia.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

PDFs of Part II are now available up to the last post!

You can find them here:

The Sandtrooper’s Story - Part II

Chapter 1 - Departure

Chapter 2 - Sifting for Clues

Chapter 3 - Thoughts from a Moisture Farmer's Wife

Chapter 4 - Sacrifice

Chapter 5 - Tatooine Haunts

Chapter 6 - Chasms and Trenches

Chapter 7 - Recovery

Chapter 8 - Moral Dilemma

Chapter 9 - Crash and Burn

Chapter 10 - Canyon Search

Chapter 11 - Fate and Shifting Sands

Chapter 12 - The Dig Site

Chapter 13 - Trust and Escapes

Chapter 14 - Revelations

Chapter 15 - Thundering Forward

Chapter 16 - Pursuits

Chapter 17 - Darkness and Light

[Tyranus]

Chapter 17

“By all that’s holy, I hope its GOOD AND COLD somewhere in the galaxy!” spewed Blade, sweat dripping from his brow as he removed his helmet. “This pack can’t be working. I’m not cooling down at all.” Holstering his E-11 and unsnapping the straps that held the pack against his back, he walked over to a low, stone wall that skirted the upper edge of one of the docking bay pits. He set it down on the wall as 1265, who had been walking ahead of him, stopped and circled back.

Blade had several small compartments open, trying to figure out the cause of the problem. He traced over the braided, snake-like wiring harnesses with his finger looking for burnouts, but found none. He glanced over a bank of fuses which were all still intact, and kept looking as 1265 leaned in closer, looking over his shoulder, “What’s wrong with it?”

“I’m not sure” he said frustrated, “It just stopped working.” He closed the compartment covers and flipped the malfunctioning environmental pack over on its’ side, pressing a status button just below several cylinders mounted up near the top. The indicator panel adjacent to it did not light. He raised his hand up and gave the cylinders an abrupt whack, then tried the status button again with still no results. He exhaled sharply, “**** power cells are dead. I just had new ones put in three months ago!” He pressed the status button again; nothing. “I guess I’ll have to replace them.”

1265 Shook his helmeted head, turning away, glancing down the street ahead of them, “Only the finest Imperial gear for us hardworking troops, huh?” He turned his head in the opposite direction to look back the way they had come, “We just passed the little parts shop Deckard used for his ‘droid parts. They’ve probably got some power cells that would work. If you want to go back and see, I’ll do the marketplace loop and meet you back here.”

Squinting his sweat-filled eyes in the bright afternoon sunslight, Blade looked back toward the parts shop, “Yeah, OK” he said nodding his head, “I’ll see you back here shortly.”

*

With a soft click, the transparent holo-card ejected from the slot in the reader. Felth retrieved it, placing it on the stack of others he had already scanned through. He documented the contents on his datapad, and inserted the next card as the sound of the lift, lowering to this lower cache level, broke the near-silence.

Moments later, the noise subsided. Danz and Topolev entered the room, followed by Holder. Topolev, not seeing Felth yet, walked ahead of the others toward the rows of racking that held supplies, crates and equipment, “Down here. This is where we found you.”

Holder followed him over to the dusty shelves where he crouched down, surveying the contents of the shelf. A few power cells remained, sitting next to several long rolls of cloth, tied with a cord. The shelf above held a rations crate that Etz had unloaded upon their initial arrival, alongside a small crate of blasters and energy clips.

Felth began the scan of the new holo-card, “Now it’s a party.”

Danz twisted his head around to see Felth seated before the reader, his face bathed in blue light from the menu screen of the reader, “Anything interesting on those things, Felth?”

Not looking away from the advancing images on the screen, Felth replied, “Not really. There’s some surveillance, some arrest records, some testimonials and depositions; pretty boring, actually.”

Danz nodded, turning his attention back on Holder.

The thawed Republic Commando stood up from his crouch, a scowl across his face. “I know I should remember all this, but it’s just a big blank.”

Topolev slapped him on the shoulder, “I’m sure it’ll come back eventually. Still a little foggy up there?” he said as he tapped his temple.

The Commando smiled a bit, nodding, “Yeah. You could say that. Some things are crystal clear . . . others like they never existed.”

Danz began pulling the power cells off the racking from the opposite side, “OK, Rogue wants these racks stripped down and gone through. It’s time we found out exactly what’s down here.”

As they began removing the stored items and stacking them on the floor, Felth spoke up, “Now that you mention it, where is Rogue?”

Topolev looked over as he placed a small case of sonic charges on the growing stack, “He and 0600 went out to the Darklighter estate; seems ‘ole Huff has had some Tusken activity. They went to talk to him and check out the crime scene.”

“Oh, OK”, said Felth returning his attention to the reader’s small screen and the recorded holo-image of Garindan in the densely-packed murk of Jabba’s court. The darkly-shrouded Kubaz in the holo received a small pouch of money and what looked like several wrapped sticks of spice. His eyes narrowed a bit as he watched, thinking to himself, ‘He’s getting paid. The snitch’s playing both sides.”

* * *

[Theo]

Just a quick note: In your links to the PDFs of Part II, chapters 1 & 3 point to the Part 1 PDFs.

[Tyranus]

Thanks Theo!

Links fixed

[Tyranus]

The Naboo sky, which had been afire with bold, flaming orange light, was now growing dark. The sparse clouds were highlighted with bold pink and purple strokes along their edges as the sun receded below the horizon. Imperial troops stood guard in the Capital Square, along the lakefront and the open expanse of the closed riverfront.

The dark Sith Lord stood rock solid on the bridge of the Intruder watching his troops and ground assault vehicles below, wreaking havoc in the streets of Theed. As they had arrived, the transponder signal had been snuffed out, obviously making the search more difficult. However, a small group of his troops had made visual contact with someone matching the description of Captain Solo and were in pursuit.

He surveyed one of the royal courtyards and the ruinous remains of the monuments to the past monarchs. If Solo had been spotted, the Wookiee and their ship would not be far removed. Somewhere deep in his brain, far beneath the shiny surface of his forbidding black helmet, he remembered standing in that very courtyard with a trailing padawaan’s braid, at a ceremony of peace, eyeing his angel in far happier times.

He felt a sharp twinge in the passages of his nose and damaged glands trying hard to produce tears as he recalled the image of her, the smell of her. He was already turning and striding from the room as he barked out his command, “Captain, have my shuttle readied. I’m going down to the surface.”

*

The Corellian pilot and the Royal Handmaiden raced through the near darkness of the long tunnel. The faint light they had seen in the distance was now growing larger and larger.

Yané was running ahead of him and he quickly turned to look back. No one had followed them . . . yet. “Where will this tunnel empty out?”

She kept running, replying as best she could between panting breaths, “There’s . . . a blast door . . . at the other end. Puts us in . . . the water spillway tunnel. Not far from there. Eventually the spill tunnel empties out just behind the Western falls”.

Han pulled the commlink from his belt as he ran, “Chewie?”

There was a moment of silence followed by static, then his co-pilot barked a response. He keyed the comm again as he ran, “This is what I want you to do . . .”

* * *

[Tyranus]

Blade squatted, rummaging through the power packs in the container on the bottom shelf of a rack as the shop owner watched for a moment, and then returned to his work behind the counter.

“Vibroblade . . . nope. Repulsor lift . . . nope. Swoop . . . nope. Loadlifter . . . nope. Vaporator . . . nope. Ahhh, what’s this?” He held up a small set of cylindrical power cells, wrapped in shrink-seal. A flat ribbon of wires hung from the bottom of the pack with a small connector at the end. Placing it on the ground, he turned to his pack and pulled off the faulty power cells and laid them beside his find. “Looks like a match to me.”

As he spoke, a shadowy drape of a figure slunk from a dim corner of the shop looking left and right, then coming to stand behind him. Blade noted the shadow on the ground a moment before he felt the gloved hand on his shoulder armor, and stood abruptly, dropping the battery pack as he whirled around. He drew his blaster in a fluid motion and grabbed the dark character by the neck, slamming him back against the rack of small parts on the opposite side of the aisle, blaster muzzle firmly beneath his jaw. “What can I do for you, friend? That’s a quick way to find yourself dead with a smoking hole through your head.”

The shop owner jumped up from behind the front counter, straining to see down the aisle at what was happening, “Everything OK back there?”

Blade kept his eyes locked on the dark figure now in his grip as he replied, “We’re fine back here . . . all fine.” Sweat ran down his nose and dripped to the floor.

The owner scrutinized them both with tired, worn eyes, finally throwing up his hands and reluctantly returning to his work, looking back every few moments.

Blade’s eyes narrowed to slits, “Wait a minute . . .” his brow furrowing as he concentrated harder, memories scrolling at a blazing pace though his mind, “I’ve seen you before . . . just never this close, am I right?”

Every part of the figure’s face was hidden beneath black wraps and cloth, save a slit, from behind which wide eyes stared. Blade pulled away the wraps, revealing the creature’s face. She was human, and shaking, flicking her eyes down to his hand still firmly wrapped around her throat. He loosened his grip slightly. “I was hired by your father to trail you . . . move you out of areas that were likely to fall, reassign you to more stable beats.”

Blade’s mind reeled, “You work for the Empire? For my father?”

The woman nodded her head nervously.

‘So it was you I saw on Dantooine, Anzat, Troiken . . . and on the Devastator . . . as I was boarding the drop ship?”

Again she nodded, small beads of perspiration forming across her face.

“How long have you been watching me?”

He loosened his grip more, removing his hand completely now, but keeping the muzzle of the blaster pressed under her jaw. Turning her head a bit, she slowly and cautiously raised her hand, rubbing her throat as her other hand slipped the draped hood wraps off, revealing a fair-skinned face and long, thick auburn hair.

Her quivering red lips parted and she spoke in a soft voice, “I’ve been following you since the incident in the bar on Coruscant.” She watched carefully for his reaction.

He closed his eyes tightly, listening as she continued.

“My involvement with your father, however, began several years before that. I was his personal assistant and liaison for private business dealings throughout the core systems as well as branching out to some of the fringe worlds.”

Blade opened his eyes slightly, “Private business dealings?”

She looked past him now, as she relayed her story, “Although he was an officer, he still maintained a very quiet, very civilian business. Your father sent me from our assigned post on Balmorra to attend a mining guild trade show on a new low-orbit platform city above Bespin. It was a long journey in a sub-light military ship, but I had been made as comfortable as possible. It was a cargo shipment, so aside from the crew, I had most of the ship to myself. My private quarters even had a large viewport.

The final approach to the city was amazing. The ship was shaking; being rocked by strong crosswinds as we flew through billowing white clouds. Finally we broke through a cloudbank revealing the expansive skyline completely in silhouette, with the setting sun behind them.

When we landed, I was escorted directly to the trade arena where I met with many representatives of the Mining Guild. We ate and drank and talked late into the night, and the more intoxicated they became, the more flirtatious they became. A bit too flirtacious and “hands on” for my liking. While that was the one aspect of the job that I hated, it was also the one aspect of the job that did the trick. I wrote several lucrative contracts at my table that night between drinks and dances, securing huge contracts of work for your father.

The sun was coming up as the party was ending, but I headed off to sleep nonetheless. Exhausted, I found the way to my room and let myself in. I was too tired to fully appreciate it, but the room and the views from it were breathtaking. Your father had spared no expense to make sure I was comfortable on the trip.

Blade interrupted her, “I don’t understand what any of this has or had to do with me.”

Her beautiful eyes flicked over to meet his, “I was coming to that point. It was during the timeframe of that trip that you had your altercation in the bar on Coruscant, and your unit leader died. I was immediately recalled from Bespin, and your father reassigned me from my previous duties to the full time detail following you and your assignments.”

Blade’s head hurt as he shook it slowly, “You’ve been watching me from a distance for this long . . . so, why are you approaching me now?”

Her eyes stared squarely into his as she took a deep breath and responded, “One standard week ago your father sent me an urgent communiqué regarding a recent discovery. Imperial Intelligence intercepted a portion of a garbled transmission that has now been linked to suspected rebel activity. The transmission originated here, on Tatooine and contained sensitive information. Your father knows you were assigned here and wanted you to be alerted to a possible spy and rebel sympathizer among those in your group.”

Blade stepped away from her, switching off the power to his weapon, holstering it. She knelt, picking up the power supply he had dropped, “Is your pack malfunctioning?” Her eyes were sympathetic and sincere.

He was pulled out of his daze by her comment, “What?”

A wiring harness dangled from the shrink-sealed part, “New power cell for your pack?” she asked.

He stared out the window to the street outside, absently responding to her question as he rolled her revelation over in his head, “Yeah. My pack’s dead . . . won’t cool my . . . won’t cool my body glove.”

She grabbed up the replacement power cell and walked to the front counter, pulling out a small bag of credits and purchased the cannibalized part. The shopkeeper spoke up as he took her money, shooting a glance down the aisle to Blade and his environmental backpack, “This cell wasn’t made for that pack specifically, but there were several design generations that all took the same core cells. Your friend’s is one of them.”

She picked the power cell up from the counter, “Thank you.”

Blade uncoupled the old wiring harness, removing the dead cells as she handed him the new, “Thanks.”

He took the new cell and firmly pressed the cable connector into the socket on the back of the pack, slipped the cells under the restraining clip, and flipped the switch. Instantly needles on the power meters pegged over to the full indicator.

He connected the leads to his body glove and slipped one arm through a shoulder strap, pulling the pack on, “Did your emergency communiqué happen to mention who the potential traitor was?” He pulled his other arm through and adjusted the pack on his back.

“No”, she began, “there was very little information to go on, but we know it originated here, and based on the knowledge of Imperial operations, it had to have been one of the troopers in your unit.”

Blade saw 1265 approaching from the direction of the marketplace. “Cover your face back over, one of the other troopers is coming, and almost here.” He nodded in the direction of the street. She turned to see the other trooper heading their way.

“Did you just arrive, or have you been staying somewhere?” asked Blade

She pulled the black drapes back over her face, “I have a room at the Dowager Queen, number nine.”

He nodded, “Keep the room. I’ll meet with you sometime in the next few days. Hide.”

She nodded and slipped toward the back of the room, suddenly becoming keenly interested in a bin of thrust bias sequencers.

1265 entered the shop, “You slacker, I did the whole loop AND waited for you. What took so long? You find what you needed?”

Blade nodded once, “Just getting it powered up and working now.”

“OK, let’s get moving, we still have the rest of the spaceport to do, and I’m beat. You’re doing the storage bays.”

“No problem. Let’s do it.”, Blade responded following the other trooper back into the blazing heat in the streets. He felt the cooling waves in his body suit spring to life properly as he watched the dark-shrouded woman slink out of the shop heading the other way toward the Dowager Queen. Was it 1265 who was leaking information? It could be any one of them, he had no way of knowing who he could trust. He thought back to his earlier conversation with them out in the desert:

“In the guard you’re trained to watch everyone, even each other. Being a trooper in the field, your unit is all that you have. You have to depend on each other. That’s the way it should be, just bear in mind, nothing personal, but until I’m more comfortable, I’m watching each of you . . . closely. We all must have reasons we were assigned here. It certainly isn’t the best post in the Empire.”

Blade beat himself up for lowering his guard too readily. He watched 1265 walking just ahead of him . . . it was a mistake he would not be duplicating.

* * *

Yané kept her grip tight on the two keys as they drew near to the end of the access tunnel. As expected, the blast doors here were locked tight. She moved to the control panel and withdrew the first key, inserting it into the lock. It turned halfway and refused to go any further. She halfway turned her head to Han, “See if you can . . .”

He had been watching and stepped up before she could finish, grasping the key, twisting it with all his strength. The stubborn key slowly yielded as he continued intense pressure on it. Finally it gave way and finished its rotation. He pulled the key out as the massive, first layer of the doors opened. When they had retracted fully, a second lumbering set began opening, followed by a third and fourth finally revealing a dark passageway beyond.

Yané darted into the darkness. Han followed through the doors, eyebrows raised as he examined the black space beyond, hearing and smelling water. Once through, he used the key and used it to initiate the closing and locking of the doors behind them. The handmaiden had moved from his side and moved along a metal railing toward the enormous circular water spillway door. She put a hand out, running it down over the stone to find the keyhole. Once located, she inserted the second key, turning it with ease.

As she withdrew it, a thundering sound issued from the wall before them as the gargantuan stone door began to rotate slowly. As soon as the opening came into view in it, they heard water rushing through below the railing, down in a canal below them. Once the opening had revolved enough for them to pass, they both slipped through as it continued to turn.

The grinding sound continued for a total of three minutes until the door had completed a full revolution and locked securely. The water ceased to stream through, and what had come through now flowed away from them, down the tunnel ahead of them. The darkness of the channel was broken by lights several hundred meters ahead.

“We better get moving. Even with these doors in place, if they want to follow us, and they do, they’ll find a way.

The two took off running toward the lights, the sound of their footfalls echoing in the circular passage.

* * *

I closed my eyes, silently breathing shallow breaths in and out as I waited for the sound of the closing door. I could hear the faint swishing and rustling of clothing as the pilot moved around somewhere above. There was a clinking sound, presumably as he gathered up some of his new belongings, and then nothing. Finally I heard the door close and latch securely. As I sat in the darkness beneath the trapdoor, knowing the young rebel had gathered his things and gone, the nagging idea of letting him go kept twisting itself over and over in my mind.

I didn’t really consider it backing down, as I felt very strongly that we hadn’t seen the last of our Rebel visitor, and I was allowing him to leave. If he was comfortable coming here, my keeping watch on Kenobi’s home could ultimately pay off more in the long run by not arresting or killing the young farmboy turned activist pilot.

There was only silence as I remained still, listening. I had to be sure he was gone, and not been deceived into thinking he had.

*

The transparisteel canopy of the snub fighter lowered into place, securing airlock seals as the power plants for the four main thrusters came online with a throaty hum, blasting a fine spray of sand away from downward facing ported exhaust vents. As they did, monitoring instrumentation in the cockpit flickered on, and the little astromech that had been in sleep mode while charging, came back on line. Its dome swiveled left and right back and forth as a string of tones, beeps and whistles issued forth, followed by a sort of electronic belching before it fell silent.

“Okay R2”, said the pilot as he lifted the helmet from his lap and fitted his head inside snugly, adjusting the chinstrap, “Now I know how you feel about being switched off while charging. It won’t happen again, but that just means a slow-trickle charge in the future, you know.”

Several beeps flew back in response and the insolent little blue ‘droid swiveled his dome around to face the rear of the craft as its weight gently lifted from the landing gear on the invisible cushion of increasing repulsor intensity.

*

Still and silent in the dark recess, I heard drive engines firing in the distance, signaling the young rebel’s departure. I threw open the trapdoor and climbed up the few crude stone steps, moving quickly to the front door. Opening it slightly, I could see thin, white, vaporous trails left by the engines of the disappearing X-wing in sharp contrast against the deep azure of the crystal clear Tatooine sky.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Chapter 18 – The Taste of Truth

As the running Corellian and the Handmaiden came to the end of the man-made tunnel, the opening narrowed; the walls now those of a jagged, raw cave in the cliff side.

“This is the original cave, it’s not far now.” She smiled.

Faint echoes of raucous squawks and blaster fire erupted from behind them in the cave.

Han looked around as they hurriedly splashed through the shallow water and over irregular stones, “Good. They’re getting closer . . . and I think they just stomped through that nest of Peko-pekos we avoided.” He hurried over the stone floor, following her, “I thought this place was man-made for controlling water diversion, what’s with the cave all of a sudden?”

She paused, resting against an upward thrust stone in the floor, “Engineers left the last bit of it in its natural state so as not to interfere with the cliff wall behind the falls. Only one problem.”

He closed his eyes, “And that is?”

She paused, then continued “It leads to a sheer drop where it ends.”

He laughed in agony, slowly twisting away from her, “Ha ha ha, son of a . . .”

“There’s quite a bit of room between the cliff face and the actual falling water, though. We could climb down.” She offered.

Suddenly he turned back to her . . . a glint of mischief in his squinting eye and his face curled up in a grin that stretched from one ear to the other as he shook an index finger in the air, “That just might work”. He unclipped the comm from his belt and clicked it on once more, “Chewie, scrap that first plan, pal. I thought we were going to be coming out down closer to the platform.”

The Wook barked a response.

Han keyed his comm again, “I know you can do this, buddy. This is what we’re going to do. I want you to go open the top hatch . . .”

* * *

A blast of white vapor blew from the shuttle’s release valves across the ramp. The Dark Lord slowed his pace slightly, taking the last steps off to the cobblestones of the lakeside courtyard. He had not been here since . . . well, those long ago days of his youth and innocence, when so many things had seemed to happen all at once; Qui-gon’s death, his introduction to Palpatine, becoming Obi-Wan’s padawaan, and seeing his angel in her stunning white ceremonial gown . . . his angel.

The heart beneath his armor, squeezed in beside cybernetic respirators, ached more with each step he took. Even the air of this place weighed heavily on his shoulders, pressing down on his mechanical legs with a weight that threatened to crush him . . . again; haunting the very core of him with memories of those first, early days with her, those early feelings of his love for her; a child’s love, but love nonetheless.

Smoke and dust lingered in the air here from the initial invasion. His troops had raced in on swoops and All-Terrain walkers dispersing the crowds from their tributes. Debris littered the ground surrounding the monuments. The bust of Queen Jamila had been toppled from its stone pillar among those of her Senators and lay in several pieces, a powdery mark stained the ground where it had fallen and split apart; her face cleaved down the center and across the forehead.

Vader stepped over the stone pieces, moving forward in search of the one that honored her predecessor, Queen Amidala.

In addition to the official tributes to past royalty, small private shrines, honoring those lost on Alderaan, littered the courtyard. Flickering lamps illuminated photos of, and letters to, loved ones lost. Flowers reverently positioned in memory of lives shattered alongside personal effects that had been carefully placed and arranged now lay in scattered disarray; all of them broken, painful reminders of where his twisting dark path had led him.

The near-silence of the courtyard was broken only by the cold sounds of his cycling, mechanical respirator sucking air in, and releasing with deep exhales. The daylight was fading and all but gone as he wound his way through the rubble searching for her. The broken, graffiti-covered bust of Senator Palpatine appeared, but he did not see his queen.

Just as he began to fear her likeness had been destroyed, a veil of smoke blew past and he saw the gentle lines of his beauty’s face emerge; the graceful curve of her cheek with hair spilling over delicate shoulders; her long neck. The white stone carving captured her beauty, her spirit just as he remembered.

He stepped around the statue of Palpatine and moved closer. The last of the day’s light revealed the subtle nuances and highlights of the polished stone bust as the man who had fallen from grace, right hand to the Emperor, destroyer of the Jedi and countless lives and worlds in his wake, bent his cybernetic leg and knelt among the flowers laid around her monument, knelt before the ghostly image of his lost beloved. The idea of her giving birth to their son in her last moments without him raced through his thoughts as his tired, helmeted head lowered before her timeless beauty.

It was in that heart-wrenching moment on his knee, with burning, damaged eyes that no longer formed tears that he connected the pieces together, realizing how his fears had been used against him all those years ago. Searching his thoughts deeper, it became clear that in those first hazy moments when he had asked about her with a new, enhanced voice that was not his own, and stepped awkwardly away from that ghastly operating table . . . that altar . . . that dark threshold he had crossed; Palpatine had lied to him about his wife’s death, and his role in it.

The self-inflicted guilt and agony in that moment and every moment to follow was the skillful handiwork of his master, sculpted to be the perfect control mechanism for his new Sith apprentice.

His mind raced and the deeply raging Force currents contorting through and around him were agitated to the point of near illumination.

* * *

The sound of rushing water had now grown much louder, and ahead, Han saw light from beyond the jagged cave mouth which, mere steps ahead, opened to a sheer drop down the cliff face. He and Yané walked as far as they could along the stones at the base of the cave walls, then Han stepped down into the shallow water, helping the handmaiden do the same. As they moved through the calf-deep water they could now see the last remnants of the fading daylight glowing from the far side of the furious downward-blasting wall of water ahead.

A cool misty spray hung heavy in the air, escaping from the torrential waterfalls downpour. Yané tried to yell to Han, asking him how he planned to move ahead, but the roaring sound was so deafening she couldn’t even hear her own words.

A rough wind which raced down the cliff face tugged at the Corellian pilot’s hair and shirt violently as he held on tight to the rocks with one hand and leaned out to peer down the cliff. “Come on buddy”, he whispered to himself.

As he did, the protruding front forks of the Millennium Falcon appeared, rising slowly up past the mouth of the cave. The jutting cockpit slid into view as his ship inched its way further up the cliff. The Wookiee, seated inside facing skyward, shook his head, bared his teeth and roared in the cockpit as he fought the straining controls to maintain this inverted, near hovering attitude.

It took every ounce of his incredible strength and piloting skills to balance repulsor fields pushing to keep the ‘Falcon away from the rocks of the cliff face yet not out far enough to be caught in the thundering power of the falls, and control the drive thrust to hold a semi-steady vertical position.

Even the straining roar of the ‘Falcon’s main drive engines were drowned out by the heart-pounding concussion of the falling water barricade which just barely skimmed and sprayed across the underbelly of the ‘Falcon on the far side.

As the ship inched higher, the top hatch came into sight. As soon as he saw it opened and waiting, Solo turned and grabbed Yané, holding her ear close to his mouth as he yelled to be heard, motioning to the open hatch with his free hand, “We’re going in there.”

She looked around him, then nodded her head.

Chewie, straining to lean his head back and watch the top hatch as it moved into position just opposite them, stopped his climb, holding the ship steady as it slid into place.

Han held one arm as Yané stepped from the rocky cliff to the small opening. She half jumped and half fell into the small port, landing on the rungs of the internal ladder. Grabbing onto the rim of the opening, she turned herself around and began her descent into the ship. He watched her go as the ship drifted up and down. His first mate fought to hold her still. He held the comm tight in his hand, ready to give Chewie the OK once onboard.

Yané finally reached the bottom and Han reached out with his free hand grabbing the rim of the hatch opening. In an eruption of flashes, several crimson blaster bolts impacted the hull beside him, scorching the metal. He snapped his head around to see Stormtroopers advancing on him. He squeezed down on the comm as he dove headfirst into the open hatch port, “Chewie get us outta here now!”

Another round of fire pelted the hull as he pulled his feet inside and slapped the control panel, sealing the hatch.

Chewie howled, throwing several control levers straight forward. As he did, the front forks of the ship sharply pitched outward, falling away from the cliff, into the crashing water, which instantly flipped the ship over violently, jerking the controls from the Wookiees hands, sending them tumbling down the cliff side.

Yané was thrown across the floor into the bulkhead and Han, inside the ladder tunnel, fell one way toward the deck, then was flung back up into the upper hatch, then down again toward the deck, only to be thrown back into the hatch as the ship was rolled over and over, “OW! Chewie!”

The ground below was rising up fast as the plummeting freighter continued to roll. Finally the skilled Wookiee was able to get his bearings enough to time the firing of the main drive engines. In a momentary flash, the dark waters of the huge falls lit up a brilliant white-blue, and shipyard workers on the landing pad below, turned to watch as the Millennium Falcon burst out of the falling water just above them. Water sprayed from her gleaming hull across the yard workers, her main engines snarling like a singing buzz saw.

Luckily Chewie had judged correctly, throwing the ship out into the air, and not the other direction, accelerating into the cliff. He followed his initial instincts, setting an escape course toward the dense forests and open fields here below the falls, away from the direction of the capital city and the star destroyer stationed in the airspace just above it. Without warning, from among the dense trees below, several rounds of fire unexpectedly pummeled the ‘Falcons underbelly.

The Wook flipped the ship up on its side and came around hard right, taking more jarring fire. Amidst the foliage, he was able to see dozens of scattered Imperial all-terrain transport walkers, their guns tracking to lock on to the moving target. Without thinking, he immediately initiated a climb, away from the walkers, but imediately noted the faint, hazy outline of a second destroyer, high up in the atmosphere. With bared teeth, he reluctantly banked away, rolling the ‘Falcon over twice, climbing through an inverted arc up and over the top of the falls heading toward Theed. As he switched on the nav’ computer and keyed in a destination code, his mind raced through the rapidly escalating situation. A destroyer down here, in-atmo, was a lot less threat than one that could quickly lock on, giving chase off-planet.

Han fell head-first out of the ladder tunnel to the deck plates with a solid, metallic thud; the comm in his hand skittering away across the metal panels on impact. Yané moved in quickly to help him up. In the cockpit, his co-pilot threw the ship up on one side as they banked away, avoiding a barrage of blaster canon fire coming from several all-terrain walkers, tearing over the waterfront plaza where, far below, Vader knelt on one knee in the middle of the crumbled remains of the memorials.

As the already angered Sith Lord raised his head, he saw the object of his search slip away yet again. The already aggravated and volatile Force currents exploded outward, sweeping all flowers and debris away from the epicenter around him. He threw himself up to his feet, his cape and robes billowing in the wind as he drew his lightsaber, igniting it with an angry snap of his wrist, and threw himself at the bust of Palpatine, slashing the stone likeness to shreds with blurring, hacking strokes of the snarling blade. Smoke curled up from the molten stone where it fell to the ground as he regained his composure, his cycling mechanical respirator raggedly sucking air in, and releasing with deep exhales.

*

[Tyranus]

ALL Links to PDFs have been fixed so they should work now!

Sorry for any confusion there. Also, now Part II Chapters have Chapter names and include content up through the most recent post in the PART II Thread.

Thanks for reading!

[Tyranus]

I'm sorry there have been no new postings lately.

My Father (78) has been sick most of this year, and was recently been diagnosed with prostate cancer and has had the prostate removed. I have been pretty involved with helping him and managing upkeep of his home while he is out of commission and recovering.

I want to write more on this, but can't seem to find the time to do so right now. Jotting ideas down here and there is all I seem to be able to manage.

More will come. I promise. I'm not abandoning this story.

Thanks for reading and for your comments.

[Dutch Dirty Trooper]

Bro,

i've read your story with alot of pleasure and i really think it should be published ! And at least make a fanfilm of it !! Though i am sorry to hear about your father and i wish you and your father all the best my bro ! And i hope all things are getting better right now !

We are on ya back bro ! Keep frosty !

Grtz RAY

[Tyranus]

Bro,

i've read your story with alot of pleasure and i really think it should be published ! And at least make a fanfilm of it !! Though i am sorry to hear about your father and i wish you and your father all the best my bro ! And i hope all things are getting better right now !

We are on ya back bro ! Keep frosty !

Grtz RAY

Thank you.

[Tyranus]

Here's a small bit more . . .

Above the sprawling gardens and courtyards of the Royal Palace complex, a dozen TIE fighters abruptly broke patrol formation as their lead ship unexpectedly splintered into a ball of expanding, superheated gases and vaporized debris. The blurred shape of the Millennium Falcon throttled up as it charged headlong through the shimmering fireball that had been its target; exploding from the licking flames, unpredictably pitching this way and that.

The broken, charred remains of the vanquished Imperial pilot had become entagled in the struts supporting the large radar dish mounted on the ship’s upper hull. The ‘Falcon rolled over several times narrowly avoiding the deadly blasts of heavy fire now coming from the main guns of the Star Destroyer, Intruder, just ahead. As it did so, the body of the dead pilot worked itself free of the radar dish assembly, tumbled and slid back across the hull of the ship and was vaporized in a flash by the main drive engines, leaving nothing more than a brief black streak in the sky.

The scattering Imperial fighters had streaked away from the disintegrated ship, and each other, in large sweeping arcs. Their adrenaline-pumped pilots had pulled each of their ships around, abruptly changing direction and re-grouping into a ravenous pack, racing through the skies above Theed, their twin Ion Engines howling like a hungry, animal symphony pursuing the fleeing Millennium Falcon.

Yané held her scarf pressed against the slice on Solo’s scalp. Blood soaked the sheer cloth and ran down the side of his head. Somehow she had managed to drag him over from the stairwell and strap them both in at the gaming table before the rolling had begun again. Han reached back, pressing a wall-mounted comm unit which broadcast into the cockpit. “Chewie, turn on the grav-stabilizers!”

In the cockpit, the Wook looked up as he heard Solo’s voice. He reached up to check the control lever, only to discover that the swinging chance cubes he had hung there had disengaged it. He quickly removed the dangling charms and re-activated the stabilizer. As he did so, the pursuing TIEs fired again, forcing him to roll away sharply. This time however, Yané and his captain would not be thrown around in the back of the ship, The Imperial fighters stuck to him closely as he rolled through the sky. Then he cut a hard left, breaking straight for the looming forward edge of the destroyer.

Chewie edged back on the throttle slightly, allowing the TIEs to get a bit closer as he skimmed over the hull of the Intruder, her cannons firing at him. The luminous, jade-colored energy bolts sizzled past, narrowly missing their mark as he adjusted the shield energy allocation forward. As the cannons squarely ahead fired again, he rocked the ship up on its side, allowing the blasts to blaze past, destroying two of the fighters on his tail. He veered suddenly, heading straight for another gun tower, rolling in a tight spiral as the fighter jocks on his tail fired, their attack streaming past, destroying the surface-mounted gun instead.

A panel indicator for the nav’ computer began to flash and beep; the hyperspace route had finally been plotted. Another cannon quickly acquired the Corellian ship, blasting away. Chewie pulled back ******* the controls, throwing the ‘Falcon into a steep climb as the blast slammed bluntly into the shields, rocking them violently. The TIEs clumsily attempted to follow, as the gun tower began spitting energy, tracking up away from the Destroyer’s hull. The Wook, then threw the controls forward to center, stalling the drive engines, stopping all forward thrust and allowing the ship to slide into a full 180 degree rotation to the left. The TIEs all overshot him, flying past before realizing their error.

As soon as the grey, leading edge of the Destroyer’s hull appeared against the black outside the cockpit window, Chewie slammed the controls forward with one hand, bringing the drive engines back online at maximum throttle, as he reallocated the shields to the rear with the other. There was a short blast of blue light from the main engines and the ‘Falcon lunged toward the grey durasteel skin of the Intruder. The gun turret opened fire, spitting a non-stop barrage at the Corellian ship. As Chewie dove below the edge of the Destroyer, the blasts from the tracking gun turrets continued to follow, trailing repeated blasts into the skin of the Destroyer, searing holes through the durasteel of their own hull before stopping.

The second, orbiting destroyer was now moving into position to help. A flashing, yellow warning lamp blinked on the console in front of the Wook. He bared his teeth and growled angrily from far back in his throat. They were gaining, and readying their tractor beams.

Chewie rolled into a straight climb, heading for the edge of the atmosphere. The friction associated with a sudden acceleration to hyperspace here would incinerate the ship. As he aligned the ship with her pending nav’ computer heading, a loud tone filled the cockpit, indicating all was set for the jump. Once they passed beyond the last fringes of atmo into the chill of space, his furry arms reached over for the three hyperdrive throttle levers. The two remaining TIEs were firing on their target as the Millennium Falcon suddenly accelerated into a blurred flash and was gone. The streaming, green energy bolts flung from the fighters now merely sizzled into the empty space left in her wake.

* * *

[Scootch]

Excellent Ward. I enjoy your writing.

[Tyranus]

A thick hazy veil of dust fell from the shelf above as Topolev threw open one of the numerous plastoid containers in the racks of the cache. Holder sneezed loudly once, then again and again in rapid succession. He wiped his face, then sneezed again a fourth time, clutching his chest. Danz spoke up, lightly touching his own chest briefly, then his forehead in a sweeping motion, “Gods of Eisley bless you” and continued working on the shelves across the aisle.

Topolev bent to one side and looked down to the lower shelf where Holder was, “You OK?”

Danz turned around to check on his new Sandtrooper brother, “What’s wrong?”

The ex-Commando wheezed and clutched at his chest, “My lungs are burning.”

Felth spoke up from across the room without turning his attention from the holo-viewer, “Carbon freeze . . . especially those of a long duration, create a heightened sensitivity in the lungs to dust and pollutants.” Now pushing his chair back a bit, he turned to face the others. “The coughing and sneezing won’t last long. The acquired sensitivity will go away in time, but based on how long you were in, I wouldn’t expect it to be anytime soon.”

Holder’s breaths began to calm down as the dust dissipated and settled again. He looked up, then cocked his head around to Danz, “The Gods of Eisley?”

Danz looked back, “What?”

Topolev now peered over the shelf at Danz.

“Oh, you mean the Gods of Eisley thing?” said Danz. “Sorry, it’s almost subconscious. It’s something we said growing up as kids.” He looked back at the others who were staring at him blankly now.

Topolev blurted out, “You grew up here?”

Danz burst out laughing, “**** no! Eisley is a sacred temple complex where I grew up on Bestine IV, but . . . it is tied to this place. Colonists from Bestine came here almost a century ago in search of a new place to settle.”

Topolev cocked his head and squinted his eyes in disbelief, “Really.”

“Yeah, really. You know that hotel in the middle of town, The Dowager Queen”

They nodded.

“That was their starship. When they crash landed here, Mos Espa was pretty much the only settlement in the region. The survivors of the crash built this city, originally calling it Eisley, for the sacred city back on Bestine. They added the prefix name Mos later to blend in with the already established Mos Espa and to keep with local naming traditions. They also built the capital city, Bestine.”

Topolev rested his arms on the edge of the plastoid container, “So, what is Bestine IV like? I’ve never been there.”

The lift mechanism in the adjacent room activated and rose to the upper level as Danz paused a moment, remembering his homeworld, “Well, most of it is covered with water. The little bit of land that is available, is very rugged. Volcanic islands mostly, not much more than mountains and beaches. It’s very beautiful, just not very hospitable. Our ancestors figured out long ago how to build on the cliffs and live in harmony with the jagged mountain spires.”

As the cargo lift descended back to their level, Topolev listened, slightly nodding in agreement, “Hmmm, sounds great. I could use some time by a lot of water. It must be hard coming from a place like that to a place like this!”

1265 and Blade stood in the doorway flanked by Deckard, helmets and packs off, perspiration gleaming on their faces. “I wish I was in a place like that right about now” said 1265. Blade wiped his face as he leaned against one of the racks, “Me too brother. That trip around the spaceport was hotter than flying through the five fire rings of Fornax!”

Felth swiveled his chair around to face the group, “I just got a message from Rogue. It was a bit garbled and broke off before he was finished. Anybody else get it?” He glanced around the small room, but everyone shook their heads no. “I guess I’ll go topside and see if I can get better reception. This bunker must have some shielding in place.”

Blade whipped his head around as Felth walked through the door to the lift, “Where is Rogue anyway?”

Felth looked back over his shoulder as he walked past them out of the room, “He and 0600 went over to Darklighter Water . . . something about Tusken unrest or a break-in or something.”

Holder, now sitting on one of the lower shelves, looked up as they entered, “Hey Deck, how’d the swoop do?”

I crossed the floor, stepping down the one step into the slightly recessed area in the center of the room, “It worked well . . . smooth and pretty strong -”

He interrupted me, “You were gone a long time.” Blade took note of the comment, his eyes darted over to me.

“Yeah, well I had to stop out in the dunes and make a few adjustments. It took a little while to locate the problem.”

“Think you got it all worked out now?” asked Holder.

“I think so.” I replied.

Etz shot a glance to Holder, “You feeling any better now?”

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked, looking back over to the Commando.

“Nothing a twenty year sentence inside a metal slab didn’t give him.” said Danz.

“Yeah, it’s a little easier to breathe now.” Holder replied.

Topolev pulled out a handful of items from the plastoid container he was leaning on and began sifting through them. Something on one of the items in his hands caught Holder’s eye, and he stood abruptly, grabbing one of the holo cards from Topolev’s hand.

“Hey!” said Topolev as the other items fell away to the metal, grid of the floor below.

Everyone turned toward the two, watching.

The small black and white logo on the upper right-hand corner was exactly what he thought he had seen; the dark circular center, the ring of outward facing rays. Small flashing images and sporadic bursts of rapidly streaming and disjointed incomplete memories flooded in from the still-murky recesses of his mind as creases of concern furrowed his brow, perspiration forming.

His mouth moved slowly, as if speaking to himself only, carefully forming whispered words that gave substance to the revelation he was having. “Black Sun.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

With her face pressed against it, she could see, if not believe, that on the opposite side of the transparisteel of her third story window, life went on. Her breath fogged a small portion of it as she took notice of the sun losing its firm hold on the afternoon and lazily slipping into early evening.

Across the courtyard, a stand of trees swayed gently in the wind and straight down on the walkway below, several pieces of trash caught up in small whirlwind spun in tight circles, dancing on the vortex of air. She watched it spin uncontrollably, like her life, until the wind calmed and the trash settled once again to the ground.

Staring blankly out at the remains of the day, Toryn Farr drew in a deep breath, followed by a labored exhale, as if it hurt to do so. There was no emotion, no expression and no reserves within to draw from. What day it was she didn’t know, and didn’t really care. She had stopped caring and lost track of what, where and when today and now was.

Tears gathered now, welling along the lower lid as her green eyes stared blankly at the outside world. Nothing held meaning. The wrenching heartache in her chest felt as if it would drain the very life from her, emptying through the gaping hollow in her heart.

So many people had been lost.

In her mind, she pictured her family and friends, going about their business, as the entire planet was suddenly ripped apart in a blinding flash. Everyone and every place she had ever known . . .all vaporized in an instant.

Tears finally fell from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. The only thing surpassing her bottomless ache and despair was the very primal, burning human need to find a way to strike back at the Empire. Through the pain and depression, a vision was coming into focus. She now knew what her direction was, what path had been laid out before her. She would heal herself by seeking out the growing rebel alliance. In the wake of this very public, horrific display, she would not be the only one looking for a way to serve against the Empire.

It was sheer chance that she had been en route to nearby Talasea when Alderaan was destroyed. She wondered why that was. Why had she been spared? Her mind raced with too many thoughts; more than she could listen to all at once. Of them, none had been of suicide, but the attendants monitored her every move and came by to check her regularly. No, she would not take her own life. If her life was to be lost, it would be lost taking as many Imperials as possible with her.

She pulled off the wrap that had been draped around her shoulders, stepped over to the intercom beside the door and pressed the CALL button. A moment passed and a voice came on the line, “Yes Miss Farr?”

She composed herself and lied into the screened area. “I’m feeling quite a bit better now, and would like to discuss what I need to do to check out. I’ve been here long enough.”

* * *

[Dutch Dirty Trooper]

I am so thankfull to you bro...i really love this story so much !! Me wanna have a hardcover version when finished !!

Again so many thanks for sharing this with us !

Grtz RAY

[Pappy]

i really love this story so much !! Me wanna have a hardcover version when finished !!

DITTO!!!

[dutchy]

This is such good rading and each time I reach the end I wonder....is there more to come...

Great story and you definatley got the skillz there Ward

[Tyranus]

Thanks so much guys!!

It means so much to hear how you are enjoying it, it really does.

There is more to come . .. now to just find the time to bang it out!

I worked on some ideas as a passenger on a long business trip today. Hopefully more very soon!

[Sands]

I love it. Keep it going!!!

[Dutch Dirty Trooper]

Thanks so much guys!!

It means so much to hear how you are enjoying it, it really does.

There is more to come . .. now to just find the time to bang it out!

I worked on some ideas as a passenger on a long business trip today. Hopefully more very soon!

I think we have to thank you bro...sharing this with us ! It's just awesome !!

Grtz RAY

[Sands]

Thanks so much guys!!

It means so much to hear how you are enjoying it, it really does.

There is more to come . .. now to just find the time to bang it out!

I worked on some ideas as a passenger on a long business trip today. Hopefully more very soon!

Are you going to make this in hardback. If so put me down for one.

[Tyranus]

Thanks guys.

More is coming...I promise.

I would love to put it out in Hardback when I'm finished...I just don't think LFL would be too happy about that.

If I could get it put out under Lucas books or one of the other LFL publishing companies, I would be all over it.

[Sands]

Thanks guys.

More is coming...I promise.

I would love to put it out in Hardback when I'm finished...I just don't think LFL would be too happy about that.

If I could get it put out under Lucas books or one of the other LFL publishing companies, I would be all over it.

Or just sell it to the 501st members only. I'm still reading the end of the first part and love it so far.