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Author	Topic: Far Away Coast - Songfic, AU, One-post
Zelda_Death Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 6/16 9:49am Subject: Far Away Coast - Songfic, AU, One-post - Date Edited: 6/16 9:52am (1 edits total) Edited By: Zelda_Death
	Title: Far Away Coast Author(s): Zelda_Death Timeframe: 0 ABY - 3 ABY Characters: Han Solo, mostly. Genre: Songfic, AU, One-post story (two of those I swore I'd never write!). Keywords: Han, AU, Empire, slavery. Summary: Han, when captured by notorious pirate Crimson Jack, does not escape. Instead, he is sold to the Empire, who enslaves him and forces him to fight against the Rebels. Although Han has not cared for the Rebellion in the past, he is definitely growing to hate the Empire. Notes: Lyrics are from the song 'Far Away Coast' by Dropkick Murphys, with a couple words changed to fit the Star Wars universe. Not sure how good at writing Han I'm gonna be, considering I've only read one book that had him in it. Ah well, it's a challenge. ---- Here in the trenches, the fist of the Beast, For fear of an atmosphere poisoned, deceased, With a gas mask to keep me from breathing my death, It’s Corellian soil I hope for at best. But the duty I serve can’t begin to compare, To my ancestor’s battles and wars through the years. Though the loneliness strikes like an enemy shell, I pray for my home but still sit here in hell. Daring to peek out of the foxhole, he shot down another rebel. One threw another poison gas grenade, but his mask filtered out its toxins. All the deadly cloud did was cover him in a smoky shroud, making it harder for them to hit him. But he could still see fine. Really, he wished he couldn’t. One rebel’s helmet flew off, revealing the face of a young blond kid. Han promptly shot him. It hurt deep inside, fighting for the Empire – but Crimson Jack had sold him to them, they made him their slave, and now he had no choice. He only watched out for himself anyway. But still, here was Han Solo, hero of the Rebellion, slaughtering teenagers at the Emperor’s whim. It was a good thing he had a mask on, for if the Imperial commanders saw how he grimaced with each squeeze of the trigger, they would shoot him down right then. The only way he could justify to himself what he was doing was to trick his brain into believing he was helping Corellia; but that would imply that Corellia was aligned with the Empire. Either way, he hated the situation. To his right, he saw another wave of rebels charging towards his group’s emplacement. He turned the barrel of his gun towards them, until he realized their numbers. There were well over 30 soldiers charging him and the other five. He, both out of fear and a longing to get away from the Empire, began to back up. The gun that pressed into his back told him to stay. He crouched back down, closed his eyes, and fired rapidly. Sail away to a place that's unknown, Taken away from my friends and my home, To a place they call sacred, a place I call hell! I long for that corner I once knew so well. Now he didn’t know what planet he was on. He had been transplanted here, on direct orders from Darth Vader. His old squad hadn’t followed. From what he gathered, they had been imprisoned yet again. It was a shame; he had almost liked that Advozsec fellow. But now he and his new slave-mates were dropping towards some frozen wasteland. His new commander shouted that this was for the true Imperial cause, and – this was the kicker for Han – that they should be proud of what they’re doing. Han secretly feared that he was becoming proud of it. After three years of forced murder, his body and mind had almost accepted his new position in life, and his heart hated him for it. This ended up manifesting as being insubordinate, much to the apparently very violent chagrin of his superiors. His mind thought he was an idiot at every turn. “We have landed. Load your weapons, slaves, and remember not to be afraid to give your lives for the Imperial cause! If you don’t, you shall lose it anyway,” the stony-faced commander reasoned. “Well, you’re a great motivator, aren’t you?” Han seethed. The man moved close to him. “I have no reason to be. This ship’s weapon systems, locked on to you at all times, should provide motivation enough.” Han locked his jaw and stared straight into the man’s eyes. “Your beard is scruffy-looking,” Han retorted, barely moving his mouth. The commander smiled slightly. “You know, Solo, if it were not for your constant dissidence, you could become one of the Emperor’s most decorated men. You are very adept at slaying rebel scum,” the man teased, guessing at Han’s feelings. “Would you fancy a career in the Empire?” “I’d just as soon kiss a Wookiee, which I hear you corrupt Imperials secretly do on a regular basis.” The man pulled his rifle up to Han’s temple. They stared intensely at each other until the commander stepped back, pushing the gun’s barrel into Han’s skull as if he had slapped him with it. He walked over to a control pad and lowered their unloading ramp. The other men began marching off. As one passed, he said, “Just go with it, man.” Han didn’t reply. Go to the grind, it's all that I have. Work on and on with nothing to show, But a graying face in this dying place, That's a lock in my solitude. I think of a place on a faraway coast, Where friends are so dear and there's reason to toast, A cloudy image of a desolate land, Comes down and wrecks my hopeful thoughts. Han followed Vader, who was now leading his squadron into the rebel base. The man emanated loyalty. Han wasn’t loyal, but he picked up enough to not do anything stupid. He just stayed in line behind the Imperial Lord. He had gleaned from Vader’s conversations that they were somewhere called Hoth. That struck him as ironic. Hoth? They should call it ‘Coldth.’ He had goose bumps, and not just because of the terrible pun. Vader used his powers to blast a hole in the snow, and they stepped into the base that was revealed in front of them. A group of rebels was in the room. Most of them ran away, while one stayed to comm his leaders. “Imperial troops have entered the base! Imperial troops have entered-” Han shot him. Vader marched on, and they followed. Han slowed down, wanting to distance himself from the Sith. He had felt something ominous, and concluded that killing people while standing next to the evil side of the Force wasn’t something he should be doing, if the stuff even existed. He wasn’t sure if he was convinced or not. They continued through the narrow, icy tunnels, while explosions and tremors rocked the walls. After many twists and turns, the space opened up into a wide cavern. It took Han a moment to realize that they were in a hangar. But there in the center, in the same condition he had left it, was the Millennium Falcon. Running towards it: Chewie, Leia, and C-3PO. Vader raised his lightsaber, and the soldiers raised their guns. Han did too – but he pointed it at the back of Vader’s head. He prepared to pull the trigger as other soldiers ran to set up some E-Web turrets. The Falcon lifted off. It turned on the spot and zoomed out of the hangar. Vader pivoted and walked past Han. “This way, troops,” he commanded. They all followed. Han stalled, watching the Falcon disappear beyond the mouth of the hangar. Then he turned and marched with the other prisoners. Sail away to a place that's unknown, Taken away from my friends and my home, To a place they call sacred, a place I call hell! I long for that corner I once knew so well. Here in the trenches, the fist of the Beast, For fear of an atmosphere poisoned, deceased, With a gas mask to keep me from breathing my death, It’s Corellian soil I hope for at best. But the duty I serve can’t begin to compare, To my ancestor’s battles and wars through the years. Though the loneliness strikes like an enemy shell, I pray for my home but still sit here in hell. Next assignment, next squad. This time, Han didn’t mind. The last group had not been very Corellian. If they were ever released, they would probably a nice position waiting for them in the Imperial Army. Han, based on his actions, gave no impression of wanting to be released. He was growing more resentful of his bosses with every command. He was just about to punch his last leader in the face when he received notice of being moved. His next one wasn’t any better. At least he liked the area this time. Urban warfare gave him plenty of ways to sneak off and finally escape the Imperial slavery after three long years’ hard fighting. He had formulated plans months ago – now, he finally had the venue to use them. After analyzing today’s patrol route, he decided that this would either be his last day in service to the Empire, or his last day alive. First, he had to make sure they suspected nothing. He pushed people out of the way and was characteristically arrogant – if he tried to blend in and be cordial, that would attract attention. They were used to him being cold towards command by now. Second: ammunition. If his plan backfired, he wouldn’t have enough ammo to fight off all the Stormtroopers stationed with him. Luckily, just one more pack would do it. He ambushed a Stormtrooper, knocked him out, and stole his weaponry. Third and final: the escape. The missing Stormtrooper was, as planned, reason enough for the Imperials to call a re-briefing half way through the day. A commander landed on a nearby docking pad and they gathered there to listen to his instructions. The slaves were put into a square in front of the commander and his Lieutenant, with five Stormtroopers on the left and right sides of the walkway. Han was on the far left edge of the second row in the slaves’ square. During the speech, the Lieutenant interjected with some new fact. The commander turned to discuss it. They were staring at each other, and everyone was staring at them. It was the perfect opportunity. Sail away to a place that's unknown, Taken away from my friends and my home, To a place they call sacred, a place I call hell! I long for that corner I once knew so well. Han lifted his rifle and swung in an arc with the trigger held down, disposing of four of the five Stormtroopers near him. He simultaneously ran forward, pushing the Rodian in front of him out of the way. The Lieutenant reacted first and tried to tackle him; Han shot him in the stomach. Sidestepping the commander, Han ran up the shuttle’s ramp. The pilot turned to see what the commotion was about, and Han ended his life as well. He jumped forward and slammed down on the button that raised the ramp. One Stormtrooper tried to climb on, but Han shot his wrist. Pushing the Imperial’s body out of the way, Han sat down in the pilot seat and began to lift off amidst fierce blaster fire. He got away and exited the planet’s atmosphere. He punched in some random coordinates, and jumped into hyper just as Imperial ships were turning on him. As it turned out, the coordinates he put in led to Nar Shaddaa. He flew into the crowd of ships at tried to fly normally. Then, off to the left – the Falcon. Han immediately established communications with it, hoping they wouldn’t react violently to his Imperial shuttle. “Ship, requesting identification,” he said in a commanding voice. After a second’s pause, he heard, “Who wants to know?” It was Leia’s voice. “Who wants to know?” he repeated. “Yeah.” “Well, Han Solo, of course!” Han said. He smiled at the stream of exclamations that followed. ---- There ya go. Now, to do one with 'Jingle Bells.' -----signature----- All stories are be in the profile. "If God hadn't wanted them to be sheared, he would not have made them sheep! Now, what do you say?" "Ride on."
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sidious618 Registered: Apr '03	Date Posted: 6/16 10:50pm Subject: RE: Far Away Coast - Songfic, AU, One-post
	“I’d just as soon kiss a Wookiee, which I hear you corrupt Imperials secretly do on a regular basis.” Great line! I'm a huge fan of the Dropkick Murphys and I think it was a great pic for this piece. Nice job! -----signature----- But in purple, I'm stunning!- Londo Mollari, Babylon 5 Obama '08
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