Saga Stranded: A Prequel to Caravan of Courage - An Ewok Adventure

Title: Stranded
Genre: Family, Suspense, Drama
Characters: Cindel, Mace, Jeremitt, and Catarine Towani
Summary: What you didn't know about the Towani family and how they came to be fatally stranded on the forest moon of Endor...
Author's Note: Released in honor of the 30th anniversary of Caravan of Courage: An Ewok Adventure. Like my other fanfic, I have researched this story to fit within the Star Wars Legends universe, and fit seamlessly between the films and books of this era. This will also be of particular interest to anyone familiar with Timothy Zahn's and Michael A. Stackpole's many contributions to the Star Wars galaxy. I won't say why, only that you'll need to stick around for a couple updates.

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Part 1​

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Cindel Towani gazed out the side viewport, chin in her hands, watching the blotchy blue of hyperspace stream past. The seats in her family’s starship were uncomfortably small, the trip was unbearably long, and she was absolutely, positively, without a doubt bored. She had no idea why her dad had suddenly decided to take the whole family to visit some obscure world Cindel hadn’t even heard of. They had packed up and left, just like that, barely having time to notify Cindel’s school about their departure.

The almost-five-year-old turned away from the window to watch her brother, Mace, play with the blaster he had received for his last birthday. A practice remote hovered at the opposite end of the ship’s lounge, awaiting Mace’s best shot. He steadied himself, sighted down the barrel, and fired for what seemed like the six millionth time on the voyage. A red beam of concentrated light burst out the end of the weapon and hit the target drone dead center, dropping it to the ground with a short alarm. The drone wasn’t actually damaged, of course; Mace’s blaster was configured to the lowest setting.

Mace reset the remote and it floated back up into position for the next salvo.

“I’m bored, Mace,” Cindel said, getting up and stretching. She hoped her brother would think of something fun to do. He was thirteen, after all.

“So? What do you want me to do about it?” Mace asked with a scowl as he lined up another shot.

Cindel sighed. “Play a game with me.” She pointed to the short table between them with a round holochess board inscribed on it.

Mace looked up. “Again? We already did, six times! Besides, I always win.”

Cindel waggled her finger at him. “I won once.”

He rolled his eyes. “Only because I let you.” He fired, and the remote fell once more to the deck. It bounced to a stop by the door to the refresher unit.

“You’re not supposed to be playing with that gun anyway, Mace. Mommy said so.”

“What do you know about it?” Mace muttered, his scowl deepening. Reluctantly, he tossed his blaster to the ground and reached for the power button on the dejarik table.

Suddenly, the ship vibrated violently, and a strange buzzing echoed up through the floor by the engine access panel. The shaking eventually stopped; however, the buzzing continued to intensify until Cindel and Mace could barely hear each other.

“What’s that?” Cindel shouted as loud as she could.

“I don’t know!” Mace yelled back. His frown of anger had been replaced by one of anxiety. “It sounds like there’s something wrong with the engines!”

 

Part 2


An alarm shattered the silence of the cockpit, startling Jeremitt Towani out of a sound sleep. Kicking his feet off the top of the dashboard, he swiveled his pilot’s chair to find the source of the screeching. As he slapped the cutoff switch, he noticed a horrible buzz emanating from the Nebray’s engine housing.

“What’s going on, Jeremitt?” his wife, Catarine, asked in her native language of Bocce. “Did we hit something?” Her anxiety was clear by the worried look on her face. She hurriedly closed down the book she had been reading and placed the datapad beside her, in case he needed her help.

“In hyperspace?” Jeremitt replied, scanning the readouts. His first language was Basic, but since coming to know Catarine, he spoke Bocce like a native. “No. If we collided with even a small object, we’d be nothing but—oh no.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“The hyperdrive is leaking coolant. Looks like we blew an ion capacitor and maybe the particle gasket.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if we don’t find somewhere to ditch for repairs, our engines will overheat, and we’ll still end up as subatomic dust.” Jeremitt brought up the navicomputer as well as their current status and time to reversion. “It’s fixable—I think. Too dangerous to repair in hyperspace though.”

“So what do we do?” Catarine was totally inexperienced with space travel, or at least with piloting a ship. She had traveled plenty as an accountant for one of the galaxy’s leading banks. But traveling coach class on a registered transport was one thing; being copilot was quite another. The situation was almost too much for someone who was always stressed about one thing or another.

Jeremitt’s fingers flew across the boards, working out variables in the course equations. “Simple, honey. We find an inhabited system and drop out long enough to fix the capacitor.” Unfortunately, there was actually much more to it than that. Changing course in hyperspace was very risky; there was no telling what you might hit. But it was possible, and it was their only choice. If they stopped in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t fix the problem, their only option would be to get blown to the Force upon hyperdrive reignition.

Catarine was still worried. “Jeremitt, what if the Empire’s there?” Her voice trembled slightly.

Jeremitt winced. The Empire.

He wished everything could just go back to the way it was, with a wife in the cushiest job in the galaxy, two beautiful and sometimes irascible kids, and a position working at the Imperial Datacenter on Obroa-skai. He wished he could have remained blissfully ignorant of the top-secret information he had found. One day, he had been simply transferring the data from a shipment of datacards over to the main repository, when he came across a card titled simply Honoghr. The datacenter already had millions of files about or related to the world, so it probably didn’t contain any new information. Just in case, and according to standard operating procedure, Jeremitt cross-referenced it. He found that the datacard’s history of the planet was very different in one particular and important place.

The data agreed that shortly after the Clone Wars, Honoghr’s flora and fauna had been devastated by acid rains and weather phenomena caused by a major battle in the upper reaches of the atmosphere. But absent from the Datacenter’s records was the proof that the destruction was instead deliberately caused by the Emperor’s second-in-command, Darth Vader. It suggested that the entire debacle was simply an effort to enslave the populace. Vader supposedly used the aliens’ unique beliefs about trust to manipulate them into becoming subservient to his will.

Jeremitt had then taken the datacard to his superior, Overseer Ardien, as per regulation when discrepancies were found in the files. Ardien had said that the whole thing was a ruse, a lie started by the Rebellion in the early years to discredit the Empire. He had then spent a very long, very suspicious conference call with Imperial Center about the matter.

Next thing Jeremitt knew, he was on the run from the Empire. A squad of stormtroopers had shown up at his office shortly after, leaving him with little choice. That close call only bolstered his belief that whenever the Empire wanted something to remain a secret, it did. By any means necessary.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Jeremitt input the final data into the navicomputer. The ship seemed to lean to starboard for about a second and then corrected itself. He took a deep breath and turned to his wife, trying to make his words as delicate as possible. “The system I’ve found is in Imperial space—but it’s way out in the border region. I doubt the Empire even has an outpost there.”

“You’re sure it’s inhabited?” Catarine asked, doubtful that any world with a sentient population could be free of the Empire's prying gaze.

He rested a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. “That’s what my records say,” he replied patiently. This rapid question-answer format of conversation appeared with fair repetition in the Towani household, usually surfacing when Jeremitt was trying to convince Catarine something was safe. It was the one and only trouble in their marriage: he was carefree, she was stress incarnate. “It should be perfectly safe,” he added.

“Good.” According to pattern, she finally aquiesced to Jeremitt’s counseling. Her posture noticeably relaxed as she seemed at last to unwind. “Thank you, Jeremitt.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me.”

Jeremitt leaned over and kissed her, lingering there for a few seconds in the cool glow of hyperspace. “It’s a pleasure.” Catarine smiled, and returned to her book.

Jeremitt pushed the intercom button to relay the course changes to Mace and Cindel in the back. “Hang tight back there, kids, we have to make a short stop for repairs...in the Endor system.”

 

Part 3


Minutes later, the hyperspace reversion alarm pinged. Jeremitt eased the lever back and watched as the mottled blue morphed into starlines, which in turn condensed into stars. A very large, very close gas giant also appeared in front of them.

Jeremitt sucked in a lungful of air at the sight, but tried not to appear alarmed, for Catarine’s sake. They had dropped out of hyperspace already deep in the first planet’s gravity well, due in large part to the irregularities caused by changing course while still in hyperspace. Apparently, the unexpected loss of the ion capacitor had also knocked the fail-safe reversion matrix out of alignment. In other words, they hadn’t decanted a moment too soon.

According to the navicomputer’s records, the cyan-hued gas giant now filling their cockpit’s view was standard for its class: typical atmosphere composition of methane and carbon dioxide, nine moons in its orbit...

Wait, nine? Jeremitt thought. His scanners were showing ten. Only one of them shared an orbit with a larger, forested moon and wasn’t wholly spherical. It also seemed to have a higher-than-average metal concentration throughout. In fact, it seemed to consist entirely of metal.

It hit him like a freighterload of doonium ingots. That was no moon his computers were picking up.

He and Catarine watched as it swept into view around the curve of the planet, the forest moon following close behind and to the left. “What is that?” Jeremitt’s wife asked in a whisper.

It was the Death Star. There was no mistaking the shape. The large, disk-shaped laser emitter, the equatorial trench, the huge spherical superstructure were all eerily back-lit by the cyan glow of the gas giant. Jeremitt had thought the Death Star destroyed three years earlier by the Rebel Alliance, but the state of this battlestation evidenced that the Empire had been working on a second this whole time. In secret.

And if the Empire wanted it kept a secret...

“I think we’re in trouble,” Jeremitt said simply in Basic, a heavy lump settling in the pit of his stomach.

* * * ​

Captain Gilad Pellaeon of the Star Destroyer Chimaera stood on the bridge of his kilometer-long battlecruiser. It’s insulting, he thought for the tenth time that afternoon. In Pellaeon’s humble opinion, an entire task force of Star Destroyers on patrol duty was overkill. But no one ever listened to a fleet captain. He absently stroked his new mustache with a gloved hand, fuming.

A call from the portside crew pit drew him out of his unspoken, unbecoming thoughts on where the fleet’s leadership was headed. It was the sensor station lieutenant. “Sir, a small ship just dropped out of hyperspace inside Endor’s gravity well.”

He turned to the lieutenant. “Is it broadcasting clearance codes?”

“No, sir. In fact, the ship’s ID signature matches that of the Nebray, a star skimmer that reportedly went missing early this morning from the Imperial Datacenter on Obroa-skai.”

Now, that was interesting. Pellaeon strode to the starboard crew pit. “Helm, ahead full. Tractor teams, stand ready.”

He activated his wristcom to notify his commanding officer, Admiral Horst Strage, of the current situation. Pellaeon hated to wake him in the middle of ship’s night, but he had said to do so if anything unexpected happened.

Pellaeon heard a yawn over the speaker, then a muffled, “What is it now, Captain?”

Pellaeon told him.

Admiral Strage gave a long-suffering sigh, exhaustion evident in his voice, along with a good deal of annoyance. “Handle it yourself. And don’t wake me again unless the Chimaera is breaking up.”

“Yes sir.” Pellaeon smiled tightly. Apparently the admiral wasn't much of a morning person. Well, he thought, when Strage reassumes command of the bridge, I will have something of value to report. That hasn't happened in several standard rotations.

At the very least, this day should provide the crew with some badly-needed practice.

 

Well, if there's Zahn and Stackpole stuff involved, I guess I'll stick around -- not that the story so far is gripping or anything

[That was a joke, yeah? You know I like your stories ]

Plus, since this is pre-"Caravan of Courage", it'll give me a perfect pretext to watch it when you're done!

Are you reading Ewok Poet's fic? You two could start an Endor-lovers lobby. I'd be happy to contribute

 

Loving this so far. Yuppers, Ewok Poet would totally love the Endor inclusion. And I love anything that includes Pellaeon and other Zahn-created characters

 

I started it, but lost interest. I never liked the Ewok cartoon that much, primarily because it WAS all Ewoks. I think Ewoks are best used when someone else (a.k.a. Cindel and Mace, or Leia) is around to give the audience an anchor point of perspective. It just gets too weird when you start looking at things from inside their furry little heads.

Also, I don't know if you caught the reference to Bocce, but it's Catarine's native language, reconciling what was once thought to be a problem with the films taking place before Episode VI. If Cindel teaches Wicket Basic, why doesn't he know it when he meets Leia? Simple answer: Having primarily raised the kids herself, Catarine passed on her native language to them. Jeremitt knows basic, but typically speaks Bocce around the family. This would mean that Cindel taught Wicket Bocce, not Basic.

 

Part 4


“Now I know we’re in trouble,” Jeremitt said, whisking away from the scanner readouts to bring the sublight engines up to maximum. He hoped the ion capacitor hadn’t also damaged them, or they would be in deep bantha fodder. “Catarine, get back to the cabin and strap yourself in with the kids.”

“What? Why? What’s going on?” Catarine asked.

“Just do as I say! We’ve got a Star Destroyer coming up fast, and I can’t have distractions.”

Catarine let out a slight whimper of fear, even as she dashed through the cockpit hatchway.

Jeremitt groused to himself as the engines reached maximum velocity. He realized he shouldn’t have yelled at his wife like that, but he didn’t have time for an apology now. He fervently hoped the Force was with him, because he was about to try something stupid.

He pushed the sublights into the red zone, headed straight for the marginally complete Death Star. They would be safe there, he hoped, at least as long as the Imperials were afraid of shooting their own property. He had a hunch that they were.

But the real worry was whether or not they had managed to install turbolasers on the battlestation yet.

* * * ​

Pellaeon let a curse escape his clenched teeth. “You’re saying we can’t outflank them before they reach the Death Star?”

The sensor lieutenant blanched. “Yes, sir.”

A ship was not going to get this close to the Empire’s unfinished battle station. Not on his watch. If that ship carried explosives, the Death Star—and quite possibly his career—would go up in smoke. Pellaeon growled in frustration. “Launch Saber Squadron. I want that ship blown up or shot down, I don’t care which.”

Within sixty seconds, a dozen TIE interceptors boiled out of the Star Destroyer’s hangar like Balmorran jackal-hornets on a rampage.

* * * ​

Jeremitt checked the sensors, only to find a squadron of fighters closing quickly, eating up the distance with their twin ion engines. That was bad news in and of itself, but the beefed-up Sector Patrol Craft that had just launched from the Death Star made Jeremitt’s blood pressure spike. They evidently already had at least one hangar operational. Maybe more.

And that meant it was time to get creative.

Pouring the last ergs of power from the life support into the engines, Jeremitt banked to port as the lush green moon took center stage in the cockpit. If he could skirt around the Sector Patrol Craft, the TIE fighters would have to break formation to avoid hitting it. It just might give him the few extra seconds he needed to reach the moon’s upper atmosphere. From there, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, but the non-aerodynamic hulls of the TIEs and SPC opened up at least a few options.

No luck. The SPC’s captain must have guessed what he was up to and changed course to match. The TIE fighters came inexorably on.

Jeremitt cursed. He wasn’t usually one to use such language, but in this case, it seemed appropriate. The Nebray had almost reached the moon’s atmosphere when the TIEs opened fire, the SPC close behind. Several hits scored immediately, even before Jeremitt could begin evasive maneuvers. But the shields held, if rather shakily, permitting Jeremitt an inexperienced attempt at a dive and barrel-roll out of their crosshairs. But the TIE pilots were too good. Lasers continued to blast the small ship, overwhelming the shields and causing several new alarms to spawn from the dashboard.

Jeremitt aimed the Nebray for a stormy-looking cloud bank, hoping to lose their pursuers in the mist. But before he made it, a final shot from the SPC’s turbolaser nailed the repulsorlift and stabilizer package. Jeremitt wrestled with the yoke, trying to bring the errant ship back under control. It was no use. The tiny star skimmer just didn’t have it in her. The ship burned its way through the blue sky, pursued by a horde of Imperial fighters.

Jeremitt kicked in the emergency braking thrusters, not wanting to watch as the forest loomed ever closer. He checked his restraint straps and braced himself. Suddenly, the Nebray crashed through the canopy and drove itself into the ground with the force of a rampaging Zillo beast.

 

So happy to see an update on this fic! So now they've crashed on Endor with the Imperials on their tail and Pellaeon is about to get a dressing-down from his admiral for letting them escape. Everyone is going to have a fun day...

 

Part 5


Pellaeon listened to the squadron leader over a secure channel. “You’re sure there are no survivors?”

“I sincerely doubt it,” Baron Soontir Fel replied, the sound of his voice fuzzy with atmospheric interference. “And even if there was, that ship’s not leaving the moon again, at least not without a complete overhaul.”

“Very well, Colonel,” Pellaeon replied. He trusted Fel’s judgement. As commander of the famed 181st Saber Squadron, if he said a ship was down, there was no chance of it recovering. “Return to the hangar.” It was fitting, in a way, Pellaeon mused. The forest moon of Endor was practically a graveyard of wrecked ships already. Another would hardly be noticed by the furry locals known as the Ewoks.

No sooner had Pellaeon terminated Fel’s connection than the communications officer notified him of an incoming transmission from the Death Star.

“Put it through,” Pellaeon ordered, dreading the origin of the call.

A blue-tinged hologram appeared in midair like some kind of ghostly specter. Moff Jerjerrod was a young man, younger even than Pellaeon. Pellaeon envied the man his position. He had ridden the coattails of the late Grand Moff Tarkin, and yet still had the good fortune to have escaped the explosion of the first Death Star. “Captain Pellaeon,” the hologram said tersely. “I expected Admiral Strage. Where is he?”

Pellaeon gave a truncated salute to the image of the Moff. “He is currently sleeping. I have the bridge for the duration.”

“You didn’t wake him when that shuttle dropped out of hyperspace?”

Pellaeon pursed his lips, trying to not show his distaste at Jerjerrod’s insinuation. “I did, sir. He told me to handle the matter and not to disturb him any further. At any rate, I wanted to thank you for the assistance of that Sector Patrol Craft. It was quite...appreciated.”

“Well, it seemed to me that you needed it. A Star Destroyer’s full armament just isn’t a match for such a small ship.” Pellaeon bristled at the sarcasm. A few more choice words filled his head about the future of the Empire in the hands of men like Jerjerrod. “Need I remind you this is a top-secret project?” Jerjerrod continued. “I trust next time you will be more competent.”

Pellaeon considered arguing the point that he couldn’t have done anything more about it than he did. Instead, he simply answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Carry on, Captain.” The hologram dissolved into nonexistence.

* * * ​

Jeremitt wormed his way backward out of the engine access hatch, covered in dirt and grime. “Well, I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news.”

“Well, what’s the good news?” Mace asked, giving his father a hand up. Both Mace and his sister spoke Bocce, due in large part to their mother’s extensive use of it. They also knew a few words and phrases in Basic; Jeremitt had taught them that much in case they ever needed it. Basic was, after all, the most widely spoken mode of communication in the galaxy.

After replacing the engine access cover, Jeremitt stretched the kinks out of his back and attempted to brush some of the dirt off his clothes. He only succeeded in smearing it. “The good news is, I think it’s fixable.”

“You think?” Catarine said doubtfully, hands poised on her hips.

“Well, yeah. From what I learned at my uncle’s repair shop as a kid, it looks fine. Not as bad as it should be, at any rate. The hole through the main viewport should be the hardest to patch.”

“And the worse news?” Mace asked, brushing his longish brown hair out of his face impatiently. It seemed he had inherited his mother’s stress complex.

Jeremitt sighed. “It could take a while without spare parts.”

Cindel looked up at him from where she squatted on the floor. “What does that mean, Daddy?”

He squatted beside her, to answer on her terms. “It means that your mommy and I have to go away for a little while, see if there are any settlements around here.”

Mace frowned at the implications of what his dad was saying. “What about us?”

Jeremitt rose and seriously laid a hand on his son’s shoulder; he wanted to show him that they were in deep trouble without alarming Catarine. “You’ll have to stay here with the ship and watch over your sister. I’m trusting you, Mace. We won’t be gone long.” He walked to a storage cabinet and pulled out a pair of survival belts, one of which he tossed to Catarine.

“Will they be safe here?” Catarine asked, buckling it on.

“If they stay inside,” Jeremitt replied. He gave a meaningful look to Mace. “Which they will. Right, Mace?”

The dark-haired boy turned his attention to the floor. “Yeah,” he said, still scowling.

Jeremitt knew he had to have a talk with his son sometime soon. He had become increasingly rebellious over the past few months, occasionally even directly disobeying what his parents had said. But the time for that talk was not now, and he hoped that Mace would follow his orders just this once. He stepped toward the ship’s main hatch and waited for Catarine, who had bent to hug Cindel.

“I want you, Mommy,” Cindel said.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Catarine said, almost causing Jeremitt to laugh out loud. He wished she’d take her own advice. Then again, he himself was getting increasingly worried about their situation. Catarine gave her children a big smile that seemed forced. “We’ll be back before you know it. Probably sometime this evening.”

The two parents stepped out of the ship, leaving the Towani kids by themselves.

Minutes passed. Cindel waited for her brother to say something, or do something other than just sit there. Finally, Cindel realized that she would have to speak up. She walked over to her brother slowly, tentatively. She laid a hand on his shoulder, much as she had seen her father do. “What are we going to do, Mace?”

Mace looked up from his sulking. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Mace!” Cindel said. “Mommy and Daddy—”

“I know what Mom and Dad said! But I’m sick and tired of them treating me like I’m still a little kid. I’m thirteen now!” Mace got up in a huff and slung his blaster over his shoulder. “You coming, Cindel?”

Cindel considered this. If Mace went without her, she would be all alone, and he would have broken both things Daddy had said to do. But if she went with Mace, at least he could still watch her like Daddy wanted. “Yeah,” Cindel said reluctantly. Besides, she had to admit to herself, she wanted to see what the little planet was like too.

They exited the Nebray into the humidity of the lush forest. The clump of their shoes on metal changed abruptly to the splutch of wet foliage as they stepped to the ground. The starship’s crash had downed several large trees, creating a sort of clearing filled with both organic and inorganic wreckage.

“Mace, it's hot out here,” Cindel said, chafing at the humid summer air of the forest moon.

“So take your jacket off,” Mace said, irritated, and continued marching. Cindel did as advised, and dropped the white material in some nearby underbrush. She ran to catch up to her brother.

The two Towani kids walked away from their family’s starship, their view of it dwindling until the Nebray was all but swallowed up by the trees of Endor.

THE END​

(or rather, the beginning...)​

 

Jerjerrod is a pain and I know Pellaeon wishes he could tell him where to put his condescension The good and the bad news just got compounded by Mace's attitude and "Let me do the opposite of what Dad told me to do!" Yikes, definitely the beginning of ...

 

Niiiice! I liked the Pellaeon/(obnoxious) Jerjerood interaction and how the little girl feels that she should follow her brother so that he doesn't break ALL the rules. Kids' logic, I swear...

So is this where I should jump into the film? I'm very very ashamed to confess that I never saw it.

 

Yes, Chyntuck this is EXACTLY where the film starts. No Empire in the movies unfortunately, and the acting is rather painful, but GL himself came on to direct a few sequences. It also won awards for visual effects, and if you consider that it's a kid's TV movie, it's actually quite good. Oh, and don't forget to watch The Battle for Endor afterward, it's much better as a film and explains the fate of the Towani family.

 

While I am not sure if one of the comments among these replies counts as unfair or fair criticism, I wanted to applaud this story as I enjoyed it a lot and to tell you that I will take the idea that Towanis' native language is Bocce, for my post-ROTJ story where I plan to include Cindel. Hope you don't mind that a weird person is going to do that.

 

Not at all! I count it a great compliment if someone wants to use my ideas (even if she is weird). I think it makes perfect sense because the Ewok Adventures were supposed to take place before RotJ but yet Wicket doesn't know Basic when talking with Leia, so.... Tell me when you do your post-RotJ story with Cindel because I was thinking of doing one where she returns to Endor after she gets her job as a HoloNet journalist. We might compare notes.

 

Since I do want her to go back for very similar reasons (and one very morbid, heartbreaking one), but around the time when she's 26-27 years old, that sounds like an idea.

 

I'd love to read that story. This is just one of the best things I like about the EU; who cares if it's no longer considered canon?

 

Oh my goodness! Until I got an email notification this morning I had totally forgotten about some of the things I was doing on here! I really need to get back into fan fiction again.

Thank you JennyKitty, I am in your debt for reminding me of my duties.

 

We could work on that thing from...whenever we mentioned it.

And yes, yes, yes, welcome JennyKitty - a fan of old cartoons and the Ewok films is an instant favourite. Come to the social thread.

 

Thanks. I'm glad I'm not the only one on this forum who likes the Ewok films! However, since this fan fiction thread is over a year old, you could start your Cindel story any time you wish. No need to rush; I'm as patient as a rancor waiting for its meal.

A social thread, eh? I'll go check it out.

 

This was very incredibly good, and read as a natural prequel to the first Ewok movie.

I liked the backgrounds that you created, the different careers that both parents had, the exigencies of Bocce that you threaded through your tale like the letters in a stick of rock, and the differing personalities between the parents.

Loved this.

I was skeptical about the concept of manoeuvring whilst in hyperspace, but the case you made for the danger of dropping back into real space with a damaged hyperdrive, made a lot of sense when thought about.

Blimey, they were unlucky as drokk to end up Endor, and I liked the visual of ten moons flashing past, whilst the records say there should only be nine; wait a second, a lot of metal in that one!

A lovely touch having Baron Soontir Fel cameo-ing to explain why there was no Imperial follow-up to the crash.

This whole tale was flawless, very well done.

 

And again I am reminded that I no longer have the time to invest myself in fan-fiction...oh what I would give for those days to be back.

Thank you kindly, @Sith-I-5, I needed a trip down memory lane - your compliments as well do not go unnoticed and I really appreciate them. I had actually forgotten how much content I used to have on here. Maybe once I finish my bachelor's degree in May things will lighten up and I can return to my abandoned ideas.

 

Good luck with your degree.

Perhaps you can diarise for May, to see if you do have time to pop by.