Rocky M, NC Star Wars: The Forgotten

In the spirit of these "write you own tale" threads, I thought the old Wampa would spin a yarn from the Star Wars "galaxy". The Wampa writing EU - weird, no? Well, much of the EU seems to me to rely too much on the "technical" and not enough of the "fantasy" - one doomsday device after another, 12 chapters devoted to the inner workings of Luke's replacement hand, or somesuch...

Is this story perfect? By no means. It grew from a scene I had in mind way back when we were discussing a "fan film". That scene was the opening of Chapter 2 (below), and was all I had in mind. The rest is pretty much "off the cuff" and as such may end up badly. But let's see, shall we?

Notes: Jan Garvel - the name was derived from Jan Dodonna and Garvel was either one of the pilots names from the OT, or it's a play on that name. It's late and I can't remember, but just the same, he is named "Garvel". As for which period in "Galactic History", I think it can be determined as the story unfolds. If not, I'll tell.
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"Star Wars: The Forgotten"

CHAPTER 1:

Lonely. The outer reaches of space are lonely - a good place to get lost in bad memories; and a bad place for good memories - where you can't be with those beings and places you love.

Space is nothingness. So you cling to the only "something" you can have - memories... and regrets.

"Why did I choose this life?" the captain ponders, of his space-faring career. "Or did it choose me?" he thinks of his natural-born talents.

Things seemed so simple for the captain, with his family and friends about him. When he was using his wonderful "gift"...

"Wonderful," grunts the captain. "Oh, what a 'wonderful' gift," he fumes.

The captain had been regarded as "special" all his life. And he was. No one on his world had ever known of anyone with his abilities, not until he was born.

"If I was that damn special..." the man's thoughts trail off like vapor.

The memory is back. Somehow he keeps circling back towards it like a mynock to a power cable.

All he can think of is the scent of the meadows on his homeworld - where those flowers grow, that scent of her hair after she washed. She would smell just like those flowers the remainder of the day. He smiles, gravely.

And the days on his world are long - longer than on any planet he had visited since.

How long has it been since he held her soft hands, watched her smile... heard her laugh?

Mercifully, Jan Garvel's thoughts roam, as he remembers his first off-world visit.

Xagobah. Those funny little men. Xamsters, weren't they? By the time Capt. Garvel had begun to understand the language of the Xamster people, it was time for a new mission - a new world.

Kind of like the new world his ship's computer has alerted is now within range.

Garvel has never set foot on this planet, nor knows much about it. But the one being here he is dead-set on confronting, he knows all too well.

The captain is determined to use the sadness, the regret, the pain - all of it - as a tool to focus himself on the task at hand.

This reunion will not be pleasant.

"Good," he grins. A real smile, this time.

And he will once again be able to use his wonderful "gift".

Garvel frowns at the thought.


CHAPTER 2:

A dark, sinewy form grins from under an onyx hood, as he watches the ever-nearing "star", from the vantage point of a balcony on his elaborate spire. It is the only such "star" he sees moving in the night sky. But it is always "night" here. And he knows all too well it is not a "star" which approaches.

The man, known only to his subordinates as "Master", has long-expected this "surprise" visit. Ever since that last day on his homeworld, he has run through various scenarios in his waking thoughts and dreams, preparing for this one point in time.

Tonight he dismisses them all.

The figure breathes one command - "Go!"

In what seems like a flurry of hyperspace, the "Master's" landing bays disgorge ship after ship, and a rising hail zooms toward the lone, approaching visitor.

He w

 

CHAPTER 4:

"That wasn't so bad," Garvel would have thought, had he the time for such luxury. Instead, he focuses on the volume of metallic vultures swarming toward his location.

His pod had landed oddly, on the spongy surface of this world. It was quite the strain on Garvel's back, at the point of impact. He can't help but think about that. "What else can go wrong," again, he would have wondered, if given the chance.

The captain opens the escape hatch. Or at least he pulled the correct lever, pressed the designated button, and even heard the proper pneumatic "hiss". But nothing happened. His equipment was working perfectly. His exit, however, was blocked by ground. He had landed hatch-side down - the type of target even the greenest of rookies couldn't miss.

CHAPTER 5:

Boom! Boom! The tiny craft is pounded with volleys of fire from the "Master's" air forces.

"No!" Garvel shouts aloud.

And there was silence.

Garvel WAS "special".

The desperate man stares out the window of his pod. All the fighters remain motionless - hovering in the air, waiting.

Garvel closes his eyes. His pod rises, though not of its own power. The metallic container would not be his coffin. Eyes wide now, the captain's pod hovers above his paralyzed, would-be executors. He looks down on them now, not as prey anymore, but as judge and jury.

The captain barks one simple command: "Go!"

His attackers explode - victims of their own barrage, tearing each other to shreds.

Elsewhere on the planet, a robed figure howls with rage. He will have to remember those mental "scenarios" after all. He will need them.

 

CHAPTER 6:

"Master, what troubles you so?" a green-skinned subordinate inquires of the robed figure he serves.

The "Master" retorts, "Don't call me that, Gringe."

"Don't call you what, Master?" asks the Rodian.

"I am not yours or anyone's 'Master'," the man reveals. "I hired your and your fellow mercenaries under false pretense."

Gringe remains silent, but the stalks on his forehead pivot with curiosity.

"I'm not Baron Nelfamor from Karvis 3 - in fact, there IS no Karvis 3 - but a fugitive from my own homeworld," the "Master" continues. "Best you and the survivors get off-world before my brother gets here."

"This is a little too much to accept," the Rodian puzzles. "We visited Karvis 3 with you. We've been by your side since the Advose Uprising."

"Only because I made you think so," the "Master" adds.

"No one can just 'make' another see what we have witnessed. Not even the best tricksters and magicians I've encountered," Gringe denies. "And I've seen quite a bit."

"There are many ways to make someone believe the wildest of lies. My wise instructors taught me that," the "Master" begins. "I, however, have a special talent for it. I was born that way. No one can explain it - not even at the Academy of Whills."

Sensing Gringe doesn't grasp what the "Master" can scarcely explain, he holds out his right hand and lifts it in the air, commanding, "Up!" His employee is levitated two meters toward the ceiling in that particular room of the tower.

"Damn!" Gringe yelps. "What manner of being are you?"

"A rare breed, obviously. Only one of two ever known," states the "Master". "Call me Nagob. Nagob Garvel."

With but a motion from Nagob, Gringe slowly returns to solid floor.

"Now get out of here!" the younger Garvel barks. "My brother wants me, but won't hesitate to eliminate those around me."

"He is 'magic' too?" Gringe inquires.

Nabog stares sternly at his "subordinate" and the Rodian hurries from the room. Within moments, the sky is again flurried with fighters, freighters and one luxury cruiser - Nagob's "flagship".

Suddenly, Nagob is alone.

But only just a moment, for the elder Garvel speeds toward the palatial spire.

Nagob picks up a thin metal rod. And draws one last, long breath before the reunion.

 

Very cool, Joe-da!!!

 

Thank you. I'll add more this evening... hopefully.

 

CHAPTER 7:

Before the pod can crash into the balcony, Jan Garvel springs from the hatch, somersaulting through a window on the floor above, like the greatest of acrobats.

His landing, however, left much to be desired. But "whatever works", he muses.

"You must be proud of yourself," his brother snarls from behind Jan. He raises the metal rod, as a staff, toward the intruder.

Nagob is countered by his elder, who bears a blaster of some sort - a make Nagob doesn't recognize.

No words are spoken. It is a stand-off - a wait-and-see. Though both have been waiting a long time for this.

CHAPTER 8:

It was Jan.

When the older brother sent a river of fire toward his enemy, the younger did not flinch. He diverted the shots with his metallic staff.

Jan was not surprised. He knew this wouldn't be easy. Even with all of his "power", it seemed nothing was ever easy. It was quite the contrary.

Rivulets of knifes from Nagob's trophy room, like flechettes, now hurl their way toward the attacker. And Jan would not be able to stop them all in time.

 

CHAPTER 9:

But he didn't have to. Jan once again somersaulted - this time above the fury of knives hurling toward where he once stood.

Nagob was ready, however. Before Jan could land and fire a blast from his weapon, the defender pointed the staff toward his brother.

And lightning shot forth, hurling Jan against the curved wall of the spire.

Nagob was as amazed as his stunned brother, at his show of power. The lightning had just been a theory, a fail-safe.

Nagob advances toward his wounded sibling. He would finish him now - end the nightmare.

Suddenly, the room trembled. The spire was crumbling. Both would die.

 

/raises a Blue Milk

Entertaining as always joe-da

Lod-Reh SaJon ~
"If you seek knowledge and understanding look to the Force.
If you seek pain and suffering look no further than me."

 

Thanks you! There should be a few "twists" along the way.

Anyone figured out what time period this is yet? If not now, it should be apparent over the next few "chapters".

 

CHAPTER 10:

On one ship in a caravan of refugees, in one corner of one bar in the only luxury liner in the group, one being in a room of troubled souls sits quietly by himself, pondering the past year-and-a-half, the last hour, the last few minutes - this very second.

"What troubles you, Gringe?" inquires an approaching human pirate, who had worked beside the Rodian ever since the two were hired by the ersatz "baron". They had previously worked two assignments together several years ago, in a system so distant they never learned if it had a proper name. They jokingly referred to it as "the office". It was a "just-do-the-jobs-and-get-out-quickly" kind of deal. The usual deal. It always has to be, if they are to survive.

Much like they are doing now.

Gringe wonders, "You tell me." He drowns the remainder of a "fuchsia milk", the house specialty. The bar droid, ZY-309, was the best - the envy of a thousand star systems, or would be, if those beings on those locales could sample its bartending acumen.

The Rodian doesn't even let himself enjoy the fruits of ZY's prowess. There are too many questions that the drink cannot drown. Instead, he drowns in confusion and doubt.

The pirate, Aldar Crix, stares at the empty glass and scowls, "What a waste of a fine..."

Gringe cuts him off short, "I've got to go!"

His kinsman-in-arms furrows his brow, as the Rodian nearly kicks over the small table and leaves the bar area.

The human had never seen a Rodian move so fast.

 

CHAPTER 11:

"Stop! Stop him!" a cry bellowed like a wampa's roar.

Gringe was halted by his fellows before he could board an emergency craft in the docking area.

"Where you think you're going?" a compatriot asked.

"I've got to go back," the Rodian states in his native tongue.

"Back to what?" Lieutenant Wan quips from behind the panicked Gringe.

"To the 'Master' or Nabog, or whoever the hell he really is," answered Gringe.

"Follow me," the lieutenant said solemnly.

----------------------

Gringe's face lowers as Lieutenant Wan shows him holographic recordings of the final moments planetside, before the tower exploded.

The mercenary would carry the image with him to his grave.

 

CHAPTER 12:

"I know someone who knows someone who..." a Kubaz, known only as Merjast, started.

Since the whole ship by now had heard of Gringe's obsession, there was no way he'd get by without telling why he was so eager to return to the dangerous planet. In such a case, one never gets by with only a "just because" response.

So Gringe had told all about his final moments with the false baron, their former employer. Dozens of questions followed, during the makeshift "debriefing".

That's what sparked a memory in the mind of the aging Merjast. The years had not been kind to his train of thought.

Gringe had almost tuned out the whole ship until the Kubaz began to talk about the experience an informant of his informant had with a pair of "magic" children.

The Rodian perked up, "Where?"


CHAPTER 13:

The luxury cruiser docked at a remote base on a large asteroid near the Thon Boka nebula. At first, the pilot had overshot the target, which was not unexpected, and it wasn't long before the "mobile" base was located.

Once the ship stopped, Gringe made haste toward his personal customized ship, with a name untranslatable into "Galactic Basic". The closest anyone could think of was "The Advance".

The mercenary had devised the name from an obscure pun involving a common Rodian mating ritual. At the time, he hadn't thought that other species wouldn't understand the joke. That was during a time in his life when he wouldn't have known a "Gran" from a "Devlikk".

Gringe may have set a record for lift-off time, as he forced "The Advance" off the asteroid.

He didn't care. He was bound for home in the small freighter, to replenish supplies, and then he would find the "magic" beings - if they even exist.

For a reason he couldn't explain, even to himself, he had to find out.

 

CHAPTER 14:

Space. Any starfarer knows the void of space is cold - a cold emptiness, a never-ending field of blackness pimpled by the taunting of the smallest of fires - a most desolate archipelago.

That is what Teemtok's heart was likened to.

But that wasn't all true about the local "character". He still had a soft spot for the ladies, or at least those that struck his fancy.

Teemtok, however, was not about to dispel the common conception about himself. Why throw away an advantage? Besides, for the most part it is an accurate assessment.

After his most recent forage into piracy, the weary human figured he'd hide out for a while on Rodia.

"Not many chances for 'romance' on Rodia," Teemtok surmised. "So maybe that's where they'll least expect me.

So Teemtok headed for Rodia, at about the same time as another spacecraft, which he would later learn was piloted by the mercenary Gringe.

"Hmmm... A freighter," the wily Teemtok thought to himself. "Well, what's one more 'hit'? Easy enough job, even without my crew, then a quick jump to another system."

Greed almost always got the better of Teemtok. This time he would get more than he could ever have bargained for.


CHAPTER 15:

Gringe paid no mind when Teemtok snuck behind him, nor even when the pirate verbally threatened him, waving a blaster about.

He didn't even seal up his ship.

Most curious, the human thought. A trap, mayhaps?

Still, it was a very small list of things in the galaxy that Teemtok feared. And nothing on that list was on Rodia, to be sure.

The pirate found the ship's hold as empty as his stomach. And with no backup, there wasn't a way for him to lift the slow-looking freighter anyway - not with his tiny vessel. And why steal a ship that looks like it's on its "last legs"?

He decided to grab a bite to eat.

 

I guess joe-da "forgot" about this... come on joe-da finish

Lod-Reh SaJon ~
"If you seek knowledge and understanding look to the Force.
If you seek pain and suffering look no further than me."

 

I will finish it for you, as well as send photos later tonight to everyone I have photos of/for.

Sorry for the delays & my lack of posting as of late. Just been going through some hurdles - including a very depressing one today. This was a day I wish I COULD have gone to work....

All of you helped me get through it, though! Thanks for being there in "Jedi Spirit"...

 

CHAPTER 16:

Gringe arrived at a local eatery - though mainly an eatery in name only, for the specialty of the house was intoxicants of almost as many types as there were stars in the sky, it was said, albeit an exaggeration. One of those exaggerations most prevalent in a place like this...

Before Gringe sat down - even before he heard the familiar voice - he recognized the scent of his former ally and confidant, Xam Ober. With an emphasis on "former."

"Gringe!" Xam called, in a surprisingly sober voice.

"You finally decide to talk to me? And you're not drunk?"

The pirate Teemtok, who ended up at the same establishment on purpose, thought he'd eavesdrop on the curious Gringe.

"Look, I don't even remember what caused our 'falling out'," Ober started. "I've had too much time to think by myself."

"If you're asking me to cover your tab, drop dead!"

"I am short of funds," Ober admitted, "but that's not why I..."

Gringe snapped, "Look, save it!"

He motions for the barkeep's attention.

"I've done nothing with my life in quite some time," Xam stammered. "And there's not much time left for me to do anything else."

"What are you getting at?" Gringe wiggled his mouth.

"I'm dying. Seeing you again is destiny. I need to go on another adventure. My last one."

Gringe, who still hasn't gotten served, queries, "What makes you think I'm ready for an adventure?"

The barkeep steps over and grunts, "Which?"

Gringe orders, "Give me a Speen Tocomi."

His drink is quickly prepared.

Gringe admits, "I do have a sort of unusual quest planned. I WILL need help, and I'm not one to cut off my antennae to spite my own rectum, but how can I trust you?"

"You can't," Xam Ober states.

"Fair enough," Gringe replies.

Although still unaware of the details about Gringe's quest, the sly Teemtok grins. Surely there must be some easy gain for him - his favorite kind.

 

Encore

Lod-Reh SaJon ~
"If you seek knowledge and understanding look to the Force.
If you seek pain and suffering look no further than me."

 

CHAPTER 17:

It seemed like forever, but finally they reached their destination.

What had taken so long? Was it anticipation of success? Neither Gringe nor Xam could tell, nor did they care, for they had finally arrived at the "lost" world the Kubaz had described to the Rodian.

"So far, so true," Gringe referred to the information learned from the Kubaz.

"No one to meet us," Xam Ober remarked.

The Rodian gave a grim expression, "That may be for the best."

"I won't be around much longer," Xam half-laughed. "It makes no difference to me."

Gringe ignores him, not wanting to dwell on his friend's ill health.

"That looks like a mountain with a hole in it," Xam changed the subject.

"Well, I would say that's our starting point, but there's another over there."

"So, which do we use as a compass?"

"Neither," Gringe replied.

Then Xam sees what the other had spied, and agrees, "OK, so we wait a little while."