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Chapter II-Finally
Finally somewejere in between work and other stuff this holiday season I managed to finish Chapter II- so without further adue...

Chapter II

 

               Drogo breathed a sigh of relief as the glowing-blue, mottled sky of hyperspace sped past the cockpit window of the Imperial landing craft. They had finally reached the five minute marker meaning if the Imperials had managed to engage a pursuit ship, it was to far out of range to make a difference now. He turned to the blue-green girl with two long head-tails extending from the back of her head.

               “Rona,” he calmly commanded, “See what you can do about finding any method of tracking us and getting rid of it.”

               The Twi’lek made a mock salute, “Right.” She bounded past Nicca toward the rear compartment. Drogo began calling up a manifest record on the ships computer as Nicca took the co-pilot’s seat.

               “She seems a bit young for gallivanting across the galaxy rescuing senators.” Nicca said with an uneasy smile.

               Drogo shook his head, “She’s not a slave if that’s what your thinking.” Drogo said flatly. The senator breathed a sigh of relief.

               “Of course not.” Nicca replied trying to cover his implied implication. Drogo turned and caught Nicca in a stalwart gaze.

               “Rona’s parents were to be sold into Hutt slavery by an Imperial decree when she was an infant.” Drogo explained, “A ‘peace offering’ to help improve Imperial-Hutt relations.” He scoffed. “I was one of only a few of Antarian Rangers at the time and working with one of the last Jedi.”

               Nicca’s face slowly grew in that of surprise as Drogo continued. The Antarian Rangers were an organization seemingly almost as old as the Jedi Order. They were known for often aiding the Jedi with reconnaissance, covert operations and other such paramilitary tasks.  At the time of the Jedi purge they were rumored to help hid Jedi survivors and thusly became just as hunted themselves.

               “We were trying to stop Imperial injustice where we could.” Drogo continued,” When we raided the transport ship we realized to late it was a trap. The Jedi leading us as well as many of the Rangers and the captives were killed, including her parents.” Drogo sighed then smiled weakly, “I’ve raised her as my own ever since.”

               Nicca nodded, “So are you with the Rebellion or are you just out to save ever political prisoner captured by the Empire.” Nicca joked.

               Drogo managed a genuine smile, “Are we that transparent?” Drogo sat back in his seat, “No we’re with the Rebellion, which brings me to my sales pitch.”

               Nicca raised a brow, “Sales pitch?”

               “Mon Mothma, you know her I’m sure,” Drogo began, “Has asked me to invite you to join the Alliance. We need strong leaders like you, especially ones that are well aware of the injustice of the Empire.”

               Nicca nodded again, “And if I decline the invitation?” he asked in a guarded tone.

               Drogo furrowed his brow and cast a wary glare at the senator, “Look, were not the Empire. If you decline then we will do what we can to help hide you and let you on your way.”

               “I meant no offence,” Nicca said realizing he had insulted the large Feeorin, “I just like to know all my options.” He began to mull the idea over in his head, “I will have to think about it. He said before he rose and exited the cockpit.”

 

* * *

 

               Somewhere close to the unknown regions, a half-crescent shaped ship stood still amidst the deep endless blackness of space. In side a woman sat at the comm station in the cockpit. Her dark brown hair trailed down her back in a thick braid draping over her lightly armoured torso. On the screen before her was the willowy countenance of Ghara, her current employer’s chief administrator.

               “As we anticipated,” Ghara explained, “Rebel agents saved Senator Maile from Imperial custody.”

               She continued to lock her gaze with his, “Rebels are going to be considerably more difficult to locate.” She stated coldly.

               Ghara gave a congenial smile, “My master knew you would feel that way and is willing to pay you double the agreed fee to bring us Senator Maile alive and as unharmed as possible.”

               “Double, huh?” The bounty hunter’s tone didn’t change, “Tell your master, that he’s got a deal. I will contact you again when he is captured.” She deactivated the comm channel and stared blankly at the screen before her. Heavy mechanical footfalls came from behind her, “What do you think Sy, will they live up to there end?”

               “Divanna,” the large droid standing behind her replied in a deep threatening voice, “You know I am not to familiar with the concept of intuition you humans rely so heavily upon, but I reason as follows: It is an awful lot of money for one man not to mention trouble, so it would seem doubtful.”

               Divanna turned to the large droid and gave a crooked smile, “I reasoned the same thing, so lets be on our guard.” She took up the pilot position in the cockpit, “The good thing is, if we get caught in a double-cross we can always cut our losses by selling him to the Empire.” With that she powered up the ships engines.

               SY-M09 sat down in the copilots seat, “What is our next move?”

               “We’ll have to get to an Imperial depot or base or something so we can see if we can get some data on the Senator’s last trajectory.” She began keying in coordinates into the navicomputer, “We’ll also keep an ear open on the Imperial channels just incase they get something.”

               After a few moments the bounty hunter’s ship moved in a flash of psudomotion and was gone into hyperspace.

 

* * *

 

 

               Threedee-eight tottled over to his master who was seated on one of the ship’s acceleration couches. “Master Nicca,” the droid began, “I have brought you something to drink.”

               Nicca took the glass from the droid and smiled, “Thanks.”

               “Master Nicca, is everything alright?” the silver protocol droid asked.

               Nicca nodded, “Just thinking about the future Threedee.”

               Rona appeared in the compartment wiping her hands with a rag, “Well, I think that’s all the tracking devices.” She announced with a sense of pride. She sat down beside Nicca.

               “So your Droid,” she motioned to Threedee, “did you have those modifications done to him?”

               Nicca shook his head, “No, he’s had them as long as I can remember. He’s been in my charge since I was very young.”

               “So he’s your body guard?”

               Nicca nodded, “As well as administrative assistant.” Nicca took a drink and changed the subject, “So how did you and Drogo come to find yourselves tied up with the Rebellion?”

               Rona scoffed a bit, “Well, Drogo’s ideals on the Empire never truly died. Basically we wound up helping out some rebel agents rescue a man named Jan Dodonna from the Imps.” She sat back in the seat, “Since we were branded enemies of the Empire, they offered us amnesty, and one thing led to another and here we are.” She locked the Senators gaze, “I take it Drogo asked you to join like Mon Mothma wanted.”

               Nicca nodded and she smiled, “Well it might not be the ritzy life you’re used to, but at least you’ll be in good company. “

               Nicca returned her smile, “So what next?”

“Find someplace to ditch this hunk of Junk then get back to Rebel base.” Rona said

“Simple as that?” Nicca said obviously amused

Rona giggled a bit but both were alarmed by the warning claxon that suddenly went off.

               “Rona,” Drogo yelled over the comm, “Get up here!”

               Nicca and Rona darted to the Cockpit followed closely by Threedee-eight. They each took a seat at the various stations at the command console.

               Drogo was quickly keying in commands into the pilot console, “Rona are you sure you plotted that hyperspace course correctly?”

               “Yes, why?” she asked furiously as she worked to see what Drogo was talking about.

               “The sensors picked up a gravity well and the computer is about to dump us out of Hyperspace!” Drogo exclaimed.

               Rona shook her head examining the data from the sensors, “Impossible, there is nothing on the course readout.”

               “But the sensors do say there is something out there.” Threedee announced looking over the sensor information.

               “Hold on everyone,” Drogo said as he braced himself, “Were coming out of Hyperspace.”

               With that the ship was spat out into realspace. The sudden deceleration caused everyone to lurch forward as controls sparked from the ship’s controls all around them. As everyone recovered, Rona began trying to access the damage to the ship. As she brought the sensors back online her eyes widened.

               “Uh, Drogo.” She said, “I think I figured out where the gravity well came from”

               Drogo sat up in his chair groggy, “What the hell are you…” his sentence was cut short as he caught the sobering sight of two Imperial Interdictor Cruisers quickly closing on there position. He quickly took the controls, “Rona give as much power to the engines as you can!” he commanded, “And get working on new hyperspace coordinates.”

               Rona shook her head, “Drogo, I can only give you half power and no coordinates.” She looked over a damage report, “The emergency drop caused an energy surge that knocked out the navcomputer and fused the main hyperdrive.”

               Drogo sighed, “Tell me we at least still have shields and weapons.”

               Rona smiled, “That we do have.”

               “Good,” Drogo said, “Give me weapon control.” He ordered, “Senator take the copilot station. Rona, you and the droid see what you can do about getting us out of this gundark nest!”

               Rona hopped up, “On it. Come on Threedee.”

“But I’m no technician.” He said as he reluctantly followed her.

“There signaling for identification.” Nicca announced to Drogo.

Drogo shook his head, “At least we know now that news of your escape hasn’t reached the entire fleet yet.”

 

* * *

 

On the bridge of the Interdictor, Captain Zahn was tracking the small ship visually through the viewsceen, “Something doesn’t feel right about this.” He said to the Commander standing next to him, “Have the sentry fighters standing by for a pincer strike. If they decide to try to escape, I want them be ready to drive that ship toward the rest of the squadron.”

               “Yes sir.” The commander saluted with a sharp slight bow and made a b-line for the comm station to relay the Captain’s orders.

               Zahn glared at the small troop transport again and then turned his attention to one of the men monitoring the Sensor station, “Lieutenant,” he commanded, “Do we have any information on that ships registry yet?”

               The man punched in a few controls, “Coming through now, sir.” He read over the information on his screen, “It was attached to the Star Destroyer Dragon Fang,” he paused for a moment seemingly disbelieving his eyes. He cleared his throat, “and was hijacked a few hours ago when it was sent to transport an arrested senator from Chandrila.”

               Without missing a beat the Captain began issuing his orders, “Commander, signal the fighters to proceed with the attack and inform the rest of the Squadron and Lord Tovin what is happening.” He turned his attention to the Navigation station, “Keep them within the influence of our Gravity Well projectors.” He paused and thought a moment. He had heard reports that the plans to the Death Star were still at large and any contact made with Rebel agents were to end in their capture and Interrogation, “Lets see if we can’t catch these Rebel’s alive.” With that the alert claxons sounded as the ship prepared for battle.

 

 

 

* * *

 

               “Rebel ship,” the voice of the flight commander of the Tie fighters closing on their position came over the comm system, “You will allow us to escort you to the Docking Bay of the Interdictor Snare.”

               “Well so much for them not knowing who we are.” Nicca said sarcastically.

               Drogo seemed to ignore him and activated the internal comms, “Rona, I need that engine power.” He began keying in commands preparing to try and make an escape run.

               “Give me a sec.” Rona said her voice obviously tense.

               Nicca glanced at the sensor station, “There closing fast.”

               “We don’t have a second!” Drogo exclaimed

               A loud thump could be heard over the comm, “Alright you have full engines!” Rona announced

               Drogo instantly put the ship to its maximum speed. The fighters, however, were ready for it this time, and immediately went into pursuit. Green laser bolts shot past the transport. Drogo dodged the transport to and fro making a desperate attempt at avoiding their fire. A second group of fighters seemed to come out of nowhere and began to fire on the transport as well. Drogo made a quick cut left further toward the grayish planet in the distance. It was then he realized what they were trying to do when he caught sight of the Imperial task force slowly appearing from the far side of the planet in a high orbit.

               “They’re trying to herd us toward those ships.” Drogo growled, “Damn, I can’t believe I fell for such a cheap trick!”

               “What can we do?” Nicca asked, obviously getting a little shaky, “We still don’t have Hyperdrive.”

Drogo shook his head as a laser blast hit the ships deflector shields causing it to shake, “It wouldn’t matter if we did. That Interdictor is doing a great job keeping us within it sphere of influence.” A wicked smile crossed Drogo’s face and he activated the comms again, “Rona, forget the hyperdrive, give all you can to the engines, take off weapons if you have to.” Nicca looked at the Feorrin as if he had just come to the realization that he was indeed completely mad.

“Okay,” Rona’s tone echoed Nicca’s expression.

Drogo steered the ship straight toward the planet and the task force and gunned it. This was something the Fighters obviously weren’t expecting and were left behind, scrambling to catch up.

“What are you doing!” Nicca didn’t so much ask as demand.

“If we can get to that planet before that task force gets to the point where they can bare there guns on us or even catch us in a tractorbeam it might buy us some time.”

Nicca suddenly realized what Drogo was planning, “You’re going to land on the planet?” he asked in disbelief, “We’ll be sitting ducks.”

Drogo growled, he didn’t like having to explain his every action, “Look, would you just shut up and trust me?” he demanded. He pointed to the sensor station, “Keep an eye on those fighters.”

Nicca huffed and sat back in his seat and looked at his station, still obviously not happy about what Drogo was planning.  Drogo made a dead run for the planet. As he did so he made quick movements dodging the continuous laser fire that was now aimed to disable the ship. Drogo wasn’t much of a stunt pilot. He was usually just trying to get from point-A to point-B in one piece, a task the TIE fighters on his tail was making extremely difficult. A direct hit from one of the fighters bounced off the ship’s deflector shields. Drogo grimaced.

“Senator, angle the deflector shields to our rear arc,” Drogo commanded before he switched on the comms, “Rona, can you give anything else to the shields?”

“Not unless I hook the protocol droid up to the main power drive.” Rona replied from the engineering section of the ship.

Drogo held his grimaced look, “Alright, get back up here. I don’t want you down there if something blows.”

A few more direct hits from the fighters rocked the ship. Drogo was giving it all he had to try and avoid the TIEs, but apparently it wasn’t enough. Rona entered the cockpit with Threedee in tow and took a seat at one of the peripheral stations. She looked over her instruments.

“We’re loosing shield power,” she reported grimly.

Drogo seemed focused on their destination. The ashen gray planet in the distance was quickly growing in the view screen of the landing shuttle. The barrage of laser fire seemed to lighten all of the sudden.

Nicca took a second glance at his panel “The fighters are breaking pursuit.” He said astounded

Drogo looked at his own consol, “Damn,” he swore, “That can only mean...”

As if on cue, Drogo was interrupted by a barrage of blue bolts coming from the nearest of the Victory-class Star Destroyers coming into range.

“Ion cannons!” Rona shouted, “But we can’t possibly be in range yet!”

Drogo punched up the engines again, resetting the controls to put the shield energy back into the engines, “They’re probably shooting blindly, or using the planets own ionosphere to bounce them off of.”

Nicca braced himself in his seat, “We won’t stand a chance if we are hit!” He yelled.

No response came as Drogo and Rona both tried to make sure they avoided the barrage of Ion blasts. Drogo threw the ship into a sharp pitch using the planets own gravity field to sling-shoot them forward, giving them a boost of tremendous speed. As Drogo began to make the coordinate shift to descend them toward the planets surface, an Ion bolt slipped past the shields and caught the ship’s tail. Rona cried out as consoles began sparking with electric-blue light. Drogo found the controls dead and the ship was careening out of control toward the planet at incredible speed.

“Rona,” Drogo called out as the ship shook violently caught in the throws of the planet’s gravitational pull, “See if we can get some sort of manual maneuverability, so we don’t go down nose first!”

Rona didn’t respond, but got to work trying to bypass the computer controlled maneuvering system. She worked as fast as her hands could move. The heat of the friction from the planets atmosphere could be felt in the cockpit. Rona could feel the very circuits she was attempting to repair begin to heat in her hands. Nicca felt beads of sweat roll down his forehead.

“Got it!” Rona called out as the control panel made a humming noise, “I managed to get you atmospheric maneuverability,” she said as she took her seat, “but that’s about it.”

Drogo took the controls firmly in his hand, “Lets hope it’s enough.”

               The emergency atmospheric maneuvering veins moved slowly against the forces pressing against them. Slowly, the ship leveled. Drogo tried to put the ships bottom toward the surface to achieve some lift to help slow the decent. It seemed to work as the ship broke through the cloudbank beginning to glide more than plummet, but still moving to fast to attempt to land the craft. As the ship approached the planet’s surface, Drogo noticed something in the distance. Before He could react, a tall pillar of rock clipped the portside wing of the ship, tearing it away. The resulting force and imbalance of weight caused the ship to careen out of control once again. This Time Drogo could not gain control. The ship spun wildly and finally hit the ground loosing the other wing. The ship skidded across the barren rocky surface of the planet. After nearly two kilometers, it came to rest; its passengers sprawled about the cockpit of the craft.

               Drogo, shook off the crash and tried to get to his feet, “Anyone dead?” he asked in a dry achy voice.

               “Don’t know yet,” Rona responded climbing out from underneath a chair that had toppled on top of her.

               Nicca climbed from underneath the flight consol that was currently a mass of sprawling circuitry and wires, “I’m not sure about dead, but definitely short one lunch.” He looked around the cockpit, “Where’s Threedee?”

               “Master Nicca,” Threedee’s rather stressed voice came from the corridor, “I believe I require assistance.”

               While Drogo and Rona took stock of themselves and the ship, Nicca exited and found Threedee pinned against the wall by a piece of shattered bulkhead, “Are you alright?” Nicca asked as he attempted to move the material.

               “I believe I am in one piece.” Threedee said, obviously under strain.

               Drogo and Rona entered the corridor. Drogo took a look around and assessed Threedee situation.

               “Rona, go see what’s left of the supplies or if any of the speeder bikes survived.” He moved into position to help Nicca with the bulkhead while Rona moved toward the aft section.

               “You know,” Nicca said as the two men shoved on the bulkhead, “It won’t take long for them to track the crash.”

               Drogo only replied with an annoyed glance, as the bulkhead screeched and squealed as it scrapped across the floor eventually issuing freedom to the trapped droid. Threedee, obviously having been caught in mid flight, fell with a metallic clank to the floor. Nicca helped the discombobulated droid to his feet.

               Nicca helped Threedee take stock of himself, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

               “Yes, master,” the droid said, “Aside from a few dents.”

               “I’ll bang them out later.” Rona announced as she reappeared from the rear compartment.

               “Well?” Drogo asked.

               “The speeder bikes as well as most of the survival gear are little more than scrap,” she said with some disappointment, “But we do have a scanner and a few weeks worth of field rations.”

               Drogo nodded, “It’ll have to do.”

               Drogo took the scanner and led the others into the barren, rocky terrain that lay in front of them.

 

* * *

 

               General Drakker approached the prefabricated structure that was currently serving as Inquisitor Tovin’s quarters and personal command center he took a deep breath and pressed the door buzzer. No answer came from the intercom; instead the door opened to a dimly lit room with a long table in the center ad at the far end sat the Inquisitor, seemingly staring through the General. Drakker cleared his throat.

               “I hate to disturb you lord,” Drakker said as he cautiously approached the table, “but an Imperial ship commandeered by Rebels has crash-landed here on the planet.”

               “I know,” Tovin said, “I sensed their distress.”

               Drakker shifted uneasily, “Yes, well, I wanted permission to take a squad to the crash site and ascertain if any of the Rebels survived.”

               Tovin smiled, “Oh, They survived, General,” he said with a dark glee to his voice, “Get your troops together, inspect the wreckage,” he rose to his feet and moved to join the general at the other end of the table, “But you will not find them there.”

               Drakker took a step back as Tovin approached him, “I’m not sure I understand, sir”

               The Inquisitor stopped and smiled at the General, “I know where they are headed, but I need them to get there.”

               “Sir?” Drakker asked.

               He moved passed the General, “I believe there to be bigger game here on this barren rock of a planet than mere Rebels.” Tovin said nothing more to the General as he stepped passed the threshold. There was a particular darkness to Tovin that the General had never seen until that moment. His calm, almost friendly demeanor had given way to a calculating predator who was on the hunt. Drakker felt a cold chill run up and down his spine.

 

* * *

 

               Drogo checked the scanner again as Rona and Nicca, with Threedee in tow, made there way up another of what seemed to be an endless range of craggy, rocky hills, “According to this, there should be an entrance into some caves.” We looked back to check on his companions that didn’t have the same level of stamina he had. He helped Rona up the hill, “The scanner is having problems penetrating into the caves.”

               “Which means we can hide out there for a while.” Rona finished Drogo’s thought.

               The party continued their trek until they reached the mouth of a large cavern. “How long do you think it will take them to figure out we went into the caves?” Nicca asked as they entered.

               “Hopefully long enough for us to figure out some way to get out of here.” Drogo replied looking at the scanner. As they moved further into the mouth of the cave, the less data the device was giving until finally it gave out completely, “There’s some sort of ore in the rocks that’s blocking the scanner.” Drogo explained.

               Nicca lit a glow rod, “Well at least that will buy us some time.”

               “Yeah,” Rona issued a rebuttal, “but we also have no way of knowing if were running right into some sort of huge ravenous monster.”

               Drogo stopped dead in his tracks a moment, as if to ponder his choice, then continued further into the cave.

 

* * *

 

               As a swarm of stormtroopers combed over the wreckage of the crashed landing ship, Tovin and Drakker stood on the perimeter overseeing the operation.

               “My lord, General Sir,” The Stormtrooper commander addressed them both as he approached to deliver his report, “There is no sign of the Rebels, it would seem they survived the crash and have escaped into the wilderness.”

               Drakker nodded, “They will probably head for the caves.”

               “That would be the wisest decision since our scanners have difficulty penetrating into them.” Tovin agreed.

               “Commander,” Drakker ordered, “Get your squads together and prepare to enter the cave network.”

               “Strike that order commander.” Tovin countermanded

               Drakker said nothing but the surprised quizzical look on his face expressed what he was thinking.

               Tovin smiled cordially at the confused General, “Don’t worry general, I have a plan in mind. I believe they will lead me directly to what I am looking for.” He began walking back to the command speeder with the General following closely, “Besides,” he said entering the vehicle, “They will inevitably come to us, in one way or another, if they are seeking away off this barren planet.”

               Drakker watched as Tovin disappeared into the speeder’s hatch. He wasn’t one for waiting; he always thought that a decisive strike was the better tactic. Waiting things out left too much up to chance for his taste, but he would not dare cross the Inquisitor. He turned back to the Stormtrooper commander.

               “Commander, set up a perimeter group of scouts in case they should try and return to the wreckage. In the meantime call in a salvage team and clear up this mess.” Drakker said. As the Commander gave his affirmative, Drakker himself entered into the command speeder.