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Topic:
The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Terek_Deckard
Registered:
May '06
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Date Posted:
3/6 2:21pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Thanks!
In his rage, he didn't think that far ahead. Plus, we need the tension of the Empire breathing down their necks as they escape!
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Terek Deckard TD-2187 Sandtrooper, 104th Moisture Farm Patrol Check out "The Sandtrooper's Story" http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24597606&brd=10476&replies=30
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Terek_Deckard
Registered:
May '06
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Date Posted:
3/11 2:14pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Here's a bit more:
The expansive ceiling of the sparkling blue sky overhead stretched from one horizon to the other, unobstructed by anything but the occasional wisp of thin clouds. Sunlight glittered across the pristine frozen landscape, and the endless snowdrifts of this beautiful but brutally unforgiving place muffled all echoes; swallowed all noise but the bitter, wailing wind. A spray of ice crystals, caught in the swift, frigid breeze, blew in a thin fog just above the ground.
The rebel scout, lying on his belly at the crest of the snow ridge pulled his scarf tighter across his mouth and raised the macrobinoculars to his goggle covered eyes. He was sure there had been movement in the next valley. The electronically enhanced image flickered slightly but showed nothing. He swept the lenses back and forth trying to confirm what he thought he had seen. It appeared there was nothing.
He switched them off and slung them back under his left arm. As he turned his attention away from the valley and back to securing an anchored hook at the mouth of the ice cave he was about to explore, he failed to see an enormous creature covered in frost-white fur rise from its still, crouched position in the valley. It ran in a standing posture, taking huge strides, and quickly disappearing over the crest of the hill on the far side of the valley.
The shaggy animal with the saddle just behind the soldier sniffed at the air and shifted uneasily from one leg to the other. It turned its head sharply to one side, exhaling with a loud, strained whine followed by a shudder that started at its head and worked its way through the rest of the body. The scout glanced back at his ride, and then back to the work at hand. He fed his line through the secured hook, gave an abrupt tug, then dropped his legs over the edge of the opening and lowered himself inside.
Although a cave to be used for the main hangar and base of operations had already been located and was actively being carved out for use, there was still the matter of where to locate the main power generators for the site. This cave was already proving to be very promising for that purpose. He slid down the line a bit, digging the spikes on his boots into the face of the wall just inside the cave mouth and looked around.
Image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus3/rebel%20scout%20in%20ice%20cave.jpg
This cave was narrow, but would allow most of the power generators to be hidden underground with only the top half revealed for venting purposes. He drew his left forearm up to his face and pressed the comm button, “Echo one to echo base, location confirmed. Send the cutters and engineers to my mark.”
* * *
Flashes of lightning tore through the clouded, darkening sky over Theed as deadly static discharges from the hull of the Destroyer arced to the ground. A strong wind whipped over the speeder, shaking it violently, as cool air rushed in to replace the superheated air boiling up and away from the massive ship’s steaming hull.
Han was eyeing the silenced monitor on the instrument cluster. It showed a live news feed of AT-ATs advancing on the downtown plaza, firing into the crowds. People were running frantically as several of the monuments were destroyed under fire from the mobile cannons. The feed abruptly switched over to the broadcast center showing Stormtroopers swarming into the smoky building. Han reached over to increase the volume.
A reporter was yelling to be heard over the explosions and blaster fire behind him, “I repeat, the Empire has taken control of the palace and all royal hangars. I advise everyone to take immediate cover!” The video feed jumped through several views of the royal plaza and then to a view of the hangars with Stormtroopers pouring in through the open doors, assuming control. As the image flickered and jumped back to the reporter, Stormtroopers had advanced on his position, showing no hesitation in blasting a wide hole through him as he continued his broadcast. He slumped to the floor, and as several troopers took over his position, the monitor suddenly cut to a static test pattern and tone.
Image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus3/IMP%20TEST%20PATTERN.jpg
Yané raced across both rivers and through groves of huge, lush trees heading for the hangar. “It’s just ahead”, she shouted.
“Can’t go that way” yelled Han pointing at the monitor, “They’re already there.”
She looked at the monitor momentarily and cut her eyes away quickly as she responded, “They’re shutting things down in a hurry. What’d you do?”
Han grinned, remembering the role he had played in reducing the Death Star to a debris field. “I don’t know . . . I might have broken something of theirs.”
Remembering the time she had spent doing research for the queen in the archives, she abruptly changed course, veering to the right and gaining altitude. The airspeeder climbed quickly and was headed straight for a cluster of tall, domed towers that rose up along the banks of the river.
Image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus3/Naboo%20Towers%202.jpg
As they came around, Han saw stone bridges connecting the towers and spires reaching up from their domes, with the rushing river water far below. Then he saw the grassy landing pad on the roof of the tower they were heading for.
“This isn’t as direct as going through the hangars, but there’s another connecting entrance to the water tunnels beneath the archives in the bowels of these towers. Let’s just hope they aren’t here yet."
* * *
-----signature-----
Terek Deckard TD-2187 Sandtrooper, 104th Moisture Farm Patrol Check out "The Sandtrooper's Story" http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24597606&brd=10476&replies=30
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Ocelotl_Nesto
Registered:
Oct '04
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Date Posted:
3/12 1:30pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Nice insertion of the Wampa... I am still curious about Luke on Tatooine though
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Jade_Pilot
Registered:
Dec '05
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Date Posted:
3/12 7:10pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Okay, now you're just spoiling me for any other fic without exquisite pictures with their stories! 
Great update! 
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"A government big enough to give you everything you want is a government big enough to take from you everything you have." ~ Gerald Ford
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Terek_Deckard
Registered:
May '06
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Date Posted:
4/17 6:26pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
- Date Edited:
4/17 6:29pm (1 edits total)
Edited By:
Terek_Deckard
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Here's a little more!
The small holocron, pulling at his insides, had successfully led the young Rebel Commander away from his landing site at Kenobi’s hermitage. Luke’s tendency to doubt was definitely being tested, as the cube had delivered him deeper into the stony cliffs where caves now littered the rock walls. With foresight, he had shed his flight jacket, leaving it with the poncho inside Kenobi’s home, and had now rolled up the sleeves and unfastened the top few buttons of his crisp officer’s shirt.
He climbed carefully over the sharp stone outcroppings further and further up into the deep crevasse, heading toward the summit which overlooked the canyons below. As he approached the top of the ridge, a very large opening, hidden from anyone below this treacherous point came into view as he reached this obscure vantage point. It was a heavily weathered opening, leading into the cool darkness of a large cave.
Beneath this opening was a spillway of small rocks and stone slabs. The lonely calling of the wind was all he heard as he drew closer, kneeling to examine one of them. It had been carefully dumped with all the others to either side of the path leading toward the cave, but did not appear to be a natural deposit of broken stone. The flat surfaces of the slabs were perfectly flat, while their stone edges appeared to have melted, oozing out over the edge before re-solidifying. He ran his fingers over the smooth, rounded mounds of stone along the edges as he looked around at the many similar slabs.
He stood up, wiped his face and carefully headed up the path into the opening ahead. As he stepped into the inky darkness, his vision was suddenly shrouded with a dark green patch where the glaring sunslight outside had temporarily stained his retina. The green color slowly faded away as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could now see that the ceiling of the enormous cave was nearly ten meters above. The lowest level here was small, with the gouged out remains of a stone water collection pool in the floor, most likely fed at one time by Kenobi’s ‘vaporator.
This lowest level had not been opened up as much as the levels above, but was open completely to the roof above. Ben had probably left it in its’ natural state to avoid calling attention to himself. Luke walked to the back wall of the cave. Curving steps had been hewn from the stone here; carved right into the wall. He ascended them, circling around to a second level.
Here, an assortment of small hand tools, electronics and flimsy documents, bound in some type of animal skin leather, sat exactly where they had been left behind on a stone workbench. It too had been carved right into the stone of one of the side walls. He stepped closer, running his hands over the smooth, flat surface of the bench and out to the same melted, oozing edges he had seen on the slabs outside. Obi-Wan must have carved out portions of this cave with his lightsaber, slicing through the stone and leaving smooth, rounded, molten edges behind. He walked away from the bench over to a half wall which provided a view to the level below.
After a brief look down, he turned away, scanning the rest of the room, which was empty. He made his way back to the steps and ascended to the third and final level of the cave home. This was a very small room that had been hollowed out just beneath the top of the ridge line. A small overlook afforded a view to the lower levels of the cave and a narrow slot, also pierced by a lightsaber, allowed an amazing view of the canyons and Dune Sea as well as the path which twisted its’ way up to the cave.
This small space was most likely where Kenobi had slept, protected and able to see anyone or anything approaching. Luke sat down, crossing his legs and closed his eyes, feeling the lingering energy in the stone around him. It clearly resonated, even now, with the undeniable presence of Ben Obi Wan Kenobi. AS he sat with his eyes closed, the small cube began rearranging its’ inner structure once again, ending with a slight click, and the flickering image of Obi Wan appeared again.
“Hello again, young one. If this portion of the recordings have been triggered, you have successfully found my cave. This was my first, temporary home. It was rough, but served its’ purpose well enough. There are a few things I have left behind that you will need to know about, and I will explain them to you but first, I want you to understand a bit more about Jedimaster Sifo Dyas.
My master, Qui Gon Jinn, Sifo Dyas and Count Dooku were all close, lifelong friends and held similar beliefs, especially those regarding the failings of the Republic and the erosion of the Jedi Order. While they were all Jedimasters, each defied the council in their own small ways when they felt the path chosen by the group was leading them astray as individuals.
Qui Gon felt the Jedi were losing touch with the Force, and routinely ignored the council’s wishes if he felt the Force guiding him elsewhere along a different path.
Dooku was obsessed with collecting and studying Sith antiques and artifacts, and kept a private collection of his found treasures.
Sifo Dyas held many thoughts similar to those of Qui Gon, and was a student of lightsaber combat, both Jedi and Sith forms. He allowed himself to second guess the council when he deemed it necessary, but also felt very strongly that the Republic was worth saving and could be reformed.
When the Sith revealed themselves to Qui Gon on the sands of Tatooine, Sifo Dyas sensed the growing power of the elusive Sith Lord, and foresaw a great conflict that would tear the Republic apart. When Qui Gon and I escorted the Naboo queen back to her homeworld, Sifo Dyas and Dooku carefully constructed a view of what they felt was happening, that a Sith lord was manipulating the guilds of the Trade Federation into beginning a war.
Distraught over their conclusions, it was decided that Sifo Dyas would secretly meet with Kaminoan cloners and begin construction of an army that would be totally loyal to the republic and assist the Jedi in turning back this threat. Dooku, with his in-depth knowledge of Sith artifacts, would seek out and hunt down the Sith Lord.
It was the death of my master, Qui Gon, that sent Dooku over the edge. I killed the Sith apprentice, Darth Maul, but the death of his friend boiled over in his emotional search for the Sith Lord. Allowing his emotions to steer his course, he opened himself up to manipulation and control, and was lost to the seductive power of the Dark side, becoming the Sith Lord’s new apprentice.
The first act Dooku performed as a Sith was to return to the Jedi Temple, erase Kamino from the archives and murder Sifo Dyas, thereby erasing all evidence of the army that was being cultivated. Dooku lied to the council, saying that Syfo Dyas’ death had been an accident, caused by a heated argument between them over Qui Gon and the state of the Republic.
Although the exact circumstances of the death were never revealed, Dooku was expelled from the Order.
It is important that you understand what led to the formation of what is now known as the Empire. Those who do not learn from history are destined to repeat it.”
The image of Obi Wan flickered a bit, and he lowered his head, catching his breath and regaining his composure before continuing.
“The tools and stones you found in my home, when combined with the parts and instructions found on my workbench will allow you to create your own lightsaber. Yes, you have your father’s, but part of the Jedi journey is crafting your own, as a final test. You will not need these items now, but should something happen to your father’s blade, these items will take on immense value to you. If you take them with you, you run the risk of them being lost or captured. Leave them here in the cave and no one will find them or bother them here. When you need them, you’ll know just where they are.
This place, along with my home, are yours to do with as you see fit. They will serve you well should you need a temporary home here on Tatooine, far away from the reaches of Vader. You do not need to fear him coming here. He lost something of great value here, and will most likely never return. This holocron will activate when certain triggers are met, when you need me most. May the Force Be With You, young one.” The Jedimaster smiled, and the hologram retracted into the cube, leaving Luke alone in the dark.
* * *
-----signature-----
Terek Deckard TD-2187 Sandtrooper, 104th Moisture Farm Patrol Check out "The Sandtrooper's Story" http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24597606&brd=10476&replies=30
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Ocelotl_Nesto
Registered:
Oct '04
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Date Posted:
4/18 8:50am
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Nice post... Luke has definitely found what he needed. this makes sense from a Cannon perspective as the hermits hut would have been searched. Nicely done.
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Jade_Pilot
Registered:
Dec '05
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Date Posted:
4/18 11:32am
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Cool! I loved this look into Ben's cave.  I never imagined how he lived much, but you've given us insights and Luke more precious info.
Well done!
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"A government big enough to give you everything you want is a government big enough to take from you everything you have." ~ Gerald Ford
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Terek_Deckard
Registered:
May '06
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Date Posted:
4/30 9:41am
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Thanks for reading guys! The original drafts of ANH had Ben's home as a three-story cave. It was later changed to the small hermitage due to budget constraints, so I thought it might be nice to include it as his first, temporary home. 
More will follow, I am writing a bit, but time doesn't allow much these days.
Thanks so much for your continued interest in this story.
Be Wonderful!
-----signature-----
Terek Deckard TD-2187 Sandtrooper, 104th Moisture Farm Patrol Check out "The Sandtrooper's Story" http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24597606&brd=10476&replies=30
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Terek_Deckard
Registered:
May '06
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Date Posted:
5/16 10:33pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Here's more:
Sand crunched on the flat, stony slab beneath my boots as I pushed against the cool metal of the curved handlebars. The swoop slid silently on its repulsor field as I guided it back into the shadows of the low, narrow slot in the stone wall of the canyon. When I felt it was sufficiently hidden, I turned my head to check the line of sight from here, and could not see the X-wing fighter. Propping my helmet on the saddle, I drew my blaster, and walked off with the locater in the other hand to find Kenobi’s home.
The lighted blip on the small screen indicated that I was very close. I watched carefully for the rebel pilot as I climbed the rocks of the hillside, sweeping my blaster back and forth across the terrain. As I drew closer to the top of the ridge, I could see the top of a moisture ‘vaporator sticking up into the cerulean sky. The stone outcroppings I climbed over were blistering from their exposure to the blazing suns’ glare all day.
I felt the small rippling of the capillaries in my body glove opening to accept the cooled fluids from my backpack. Unfortunately, I wore no pack, and had no cool fluids to fill it with. I continued my climb, eventually arriving at a clearing on the hillside. I swept the immediate area for signs of life, both visually and with my scanner, but there were none to be found here.
Placing the deactivated locater back on my belt, I crossed the sandy clearing to a small, time-weathered building situated just beyond the ‘vaporator. It was square in shape with a center dome on top, and had an amazing view in one direction out into the Dune Sea, and down the canyon in the other.
Image:
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/SS2/ben%20kenobi%20home%20b%20cropped.jpg
As I entered the cool shade inside, I noticed there was one large room with supporting columns spaced throughout. It was subdivided into small living areas, with only one small hallway to the private bedchambers in the back. Sweat rolled down my face from the blistering heat outside, as I cautiously looked around. The old Jedi had certainly led a sparse existence. A single plate and cup sat neatly arranged near what appeared to be a food preparation area.
I lifted the lid on a chest and rifled through some articles of clothing but found nothing of interest. A sudden wind gust blew open the unlatched front door, slamming it into the stone wall behind. I whirled around, leveling my blaster at the opening, my heart racing. Only the wind entered. I lowered the weapon and looked around a bit more as I moved to close and latch the front door as I had found it.
The rebel could return at any time, I had to be careful. As I thought about that, I decided that I didn’t want to kill him. He could very well uncover valuable information. I was better served by observing him and allowing him to depart thinking Kenobi’s home was both undisturbed and a secure place. I moved into the living space where there were several beautiful statues on a low table. The rebel’s flight jacket lay beside a tan cloak on a nearby bench . . . he would definitely be returning.
I looked around for a place to secrete myself, somewhere out of sight where I could scrutinize him. Memories of a children’s game from my childhood swept over me, along with the very real, very rich smell of the large evergreen tree I used to hide in. It was my best hiding place, they never found me there. I smiled at the vivid recollection as the turned up corner of a small rug caught my eye. I walked over to it and knelt down, pulling the rug back, exposing a hatch of some sort.
Lifting it open revealed a small, dark, stone-walled room with steps leading down to a power generator. I descended into it, lowering the trap door over my head until only a narrow slit remained open; just barely enough for me to see through the fringe edges of the rug on top.
I sat in the darkness for some time, eyes closed, slowing my breathing and waiting for the rebel to return. I focused on being as still and quiet as possible. In the darkness, my eyes flew open at the sound of the opening front door.
* * *
-----signature-----
Terek Deckard TD-2187 Sandtrooper, 104th Moisture Farm Patrol Check out "The Sandtrooper's Story" http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24597606&brd=10476&replies=30
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Jade_Pilot
Registered:
Dec '05
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Date Posted:
5/17 9:17am
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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As strong as your story is, I am continually amazed by your descriptions!
Well done!
P.S. Did you add your stories to the index?
-----signature-----
"A government big enough to give you everything you want is a government big enough to take from you everything you have." ~ Gerald Ford
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Ocelotl_Nesto
Registered:
Oct '04
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Date Posted:
5/19 12:35pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Terek,
Nicely done again. I still wonder what the troop will do when he encounters Luke. Perhaps he will be a double agent? Hmm I can only hope.
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Terek_Deckard
Registered:
May '06
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Date Posted:
6/28 2:33pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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Thanks guys!
I have not added the story to the index yet, but will do soas soon as time permits.
Here's a bit more to the story:
Yané ran from the speeder across the tended grass courtyard atop one of the looming towers. She headed for a small, moss and vine-covered stone and block structure ahead that housed the top of the stairwell that would wind them down to the surface. Han raced after her, drawing his weapon to be ready just in case, “Why did you land us up here?”
Her hand wrapped around the cool, metal handle on the door and she pulled hard, leaning her weight back to pull open the heavy entrance, “I could have set us down on the ground, but there is a key that unlocks access to the water tunnels, and another that sets the rotation of the waterway door.”
The Corellian followed as she stepped through the door and hurried down a spiral stone staircase. Bria’s necklace and pendant jumped wildly around her neck as she ran, “The huge circular doors rotate, revealing a cored opening in the door, which allows water to pass through for only three minutes until the rotation is complete, concealing the opening once more, and locking the retaining door again."
"It was designed to rotate open and stay open, diverting water from the river above to generate power. Because the system is now offline and non-functional, the waterway doors have been left in a mode that only allows a single, early-morning rotation per day to maintain the equipment. The key I need in this tower will allow us another rotation.”
Han nodded, glancing out a small window as they raced down the steps. The Naboo countryside was deceptively peaceful. There were no visible signs of troops here . . . yet.
image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/SS2/View%20from%20Naboo%20Towers.jpg
Abruptly, Yané exited the stairs through an archway and raced through a dimly lit maze of tall shelves, each filled with scrolls and ancient texts. As he ran, Han noticed the stale smell of mildew and rotting flimsy, “What’s with all the old papers and books?”
She answered, turning a corner, not looking back to him, “It’s the Royal Archives. Historical papers, texts, treaties, doctrines and agreements from our history are stored and studied here.”
Han raised an eyebrow as he raced after her.
“Up ahead, we’re almost there” she said, approaching a large door. She wrapped her hands around a heavy metal ring that hung from the front of the massive wooden door, “I need your help!”
Han holstered his blaster and grabbed the ring alongside her, pulling as hard as they could. Slowly the door gave way and opened. It was dark inside, but she needed no light. Her memory was amazing, and she pictured the inside of the chamber in her mind from the last time she worked in here. Her hands ran over shadowy stacks of small boxes, containers and flimsy in the blackness until they came to lie on the small metal box she saw so clearly in her head.
She grabbed it and pushed past Han into the light, placing it on a table. Opening the lid revealed several bound stacks of flimsy along with schematics and plans. She lifted these out of the way, revealing two medium sized keys. She lifted them out of the box, “Come on, let’s go. We have to get to the courtyard below and follow the alleyway to the next tower.” She hurried away with Han following.
They raced back through the tall shelves to the stairwell and descended. The clattering of Han’s boots on the stone steps echoed loudly as they finally reached the bottom. Yané led him out of the tower into the grassy courtyard. Stone columns flanked them on both sides, and as they headed along the grassy walkway toward the stone alleyway ahead, blaster fire erupted from across the courtyard, toppling a column to their right, the stone blocks falling to the ground in a pile. Han tried to find the source as he pushed Yané behind the rubble and drew his blaster, returning fire.
image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus3/0-Han%20Draws.jpg
Several of his shots hit the top of a small stone wall, behind which he had seen at least one trooper. He saw the dome of the trooper’s head begin to rise up again and discharged another blast, this one searing through the Impervium helmet between the eye lenses, cleaving the trooper’s head inside.
He fell like a stone, sprawled across the top of the wall as another of the Empire’s finest stood and fired a repeating rifle at them. Han fired back, forcing the trooper to cover behind the stone barricade as he grabbed Yané’s arm and ran toward the alley ahead, blasting with each step, covering their movements.
They raced down the narrow stone alley, Han watching behind them as they came to an intersection. The wall before them had a round window at street level and two rectangular ones above, with curved tops.
image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/SS2/Naboo%20Alley%2075%20pct.jpg
“The Pilot’s quarters! Those are the Pilot’s quarters.” she said, getting her bearings. “This way! The secondary tunnel is located beneath them. Hurry!” She took off running down the narrow stone path to the right. “We aren’t far from the Royal Hangar.”
Blaster fire erupted once more from behind them, riddling the stone wall where they had been standing, shattering the round window as they turned the corner. The retired handmaiden raced up to a doorway in the stone building and pulled it open as several crimson and cobalt beams seared past them. Han turned and fired off several shots as Yané disappeared inside.
Several troop transports appeared overhead as he jumped up the steps, catching the door, and took out two pursuing troopers before pulling it closed behind him. “Cover your eyes” he yelled, turning his head. A bright red flash erupted in the darkness between his blaster and the door latch, fusing it together. “That oughta hold them for a while. Where’s this tunnel? We’ve gotta get through before the boys in white catch up to us. Have you still got the keys?”
She nodded, holding them up, “Come on, it’s this way”.
*
Outside the ground troops bounded up the stairs, attempting to open the door as one of the transports landed in the alley behind them. “He’s fused the lock. Blow the hinges!”
The troopers stepped back and all took aim at the hinges. “Now!”
They all opened fire simultaneously, blasting through the ancient door pinnings, dropping it from the hinges in a cloud of smoke. They raced over it into the darkness with the new reinforcements joining them now, “This way!”
*
“I can see where Bria got her fire” yelled Han as they stepped off the last of the stairs. Yané smiled as she activated the door controls, sliding open the multiple layers of a blast door, “Her Father taught her to shoot, and both her Mother and I taught her to be strong, the rest was all her.”
She stepped through into a cold, duracrete room. As soon as Solo was through, she activated the door controls. They slid closed behind her as she spoke, “There’s a long corridor over there. It was used as an access tunnel, for getting equipment in and out while the power plant was being built.”
She watched as the last of the multiple layers of the blast door came together, and locked it, “I hope this door holds.” She turned to look across to the tunnel Han was already looking into, “We’ll be exposed with no place to hide or take cover.”
A scowl crossed his face, “We sure will.”
The tunnel was wide enough to fly a snubship through and twice Chewie's height, with a curved ceiling.
image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus3/0-%20mg_5818%20cropped.jpg
He turned and blasted the door controls twice, metal parts from the blown control clanging on the floor, “C’mon. We need to get to the other end of this before they get through or we’re dead.” The pair took off running into the darkness of the passageway.
* * *
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.
image
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/SS2/HOTH%20LARGE%20thin.jpg
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.
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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.”
* * *
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, “Damn 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.”
* * *
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Terek Deckard TD-2187 Sandtrooper, 104th Moisture Farm Patrol Check out "The Sandtrooper's Story" http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24597606&brd=10476&replies=30
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Jade_Pilot
Registered:
Dec '05
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Date Posted:
6/29 8:28am
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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His eyes narrowed a bit as he watched, thinking to himself, ‘He’s getting paid. The snitch’s playing both sides.”
Dun-dun-dun-dun! Great update as always! And I have to say the images go along perfectly with your story.
Well done!
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"A government big enough to give you everything you want is a government big enough to take from you everything you have." ~ Gerald Ford
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Ocelotl_Nesto
Registered:
Oct '04
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Date Posted:
6/30 9:47am
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
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the drama on Tatooine was good. I wonder if they have an old copy of the Order 66... that could be cool... something for Luke to find later...
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Terek_Deckard
Registered:
May '06
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Date Posted:
8/15 1:05pm
Subject:
RE: The Sandtrooper's Story - Installment 2
- Date Edited:
11/26 9:43am (1 edits total)
Edited By:
Terek_Deckard
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Thanks for continuing to read guys.
Here's some more for you:
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.
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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.
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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 . . .”
* * *
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.
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http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus2/visitor.jpg
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.
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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.
* * *
Chapter 18 – The Taste of Truth
IMAGE:
http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus3/underground_submarine_base_21%2070pct.jpg
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.
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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 | |