Chapter 1: Rebel Scum!
Imperial Cargo Transport, Asteroid Field, 21st June 3256, 18:30 pm…
One would be forgiven if they thought the Imperial Cargo Transport even then traversing the Asteroid Field looked like a female four-legged mammal, minus the legs. The security detail of Tie Fighters hung beneath the ship like four drooping breasts, only that these could detach and kill you.
Occasionally, the transport's guns would angle towards an oncoming asteroid and fire upon it, blasting it into rubble, allowing the residue to shower the transport's hull harmlessly and without damage.
Reasons like this were why Roman the Fox had chosen his approach to be from one of the asteroids that didn't seem to be a guaranteed target of the transport's guns. When he was eighteen, Roman would have likely just gone straight in and done the job. But that was eighteen years ago, during the waning days of the Clone Wars. But now Roman was thirty-five years of age. And he looked older. His once vibrant coat of red fur had now started to lose its colour, the red giving way to streaks of grey. Instead of his old Jedi robes, Roman now wore a mix of black Mandalorian armour over a black shirt and spacer-pants, and under a sleeveless trenchcoat, with the collar turned up. Hanging at his right hip was his trusty DL-44 Blaster Pistol, the blaster that had served him well these past eighteen years. On his left hip, albeit not as visible, was his lightsaber. A weapon that had served him well over the years, but now only served as a reminder of past pains, past trials. Past memories that he would rather forget but found impossible to. Pains brought about by the regime to which his target belonged.
He was driven from thought when a voice behind him called out: "Roman?"
Roman turned to find himself staring at a young half-Togruta half-human girl of about fifteen years of age, wearing similar armour to him, except it was coloured a dark wine red and she wore no trenchcoat. Under her armpits hung dual WESTAR-35 Blaster Pistols, ones that had once belonged to a father she had never been given the chance to know. The same could be said for the lightsaber hanging on her right hip. "Yes, Ashla?" He asked.
"The team's ready, and so are we. What're we waiting for?" Ashla Kerran replied. She looked exactly like her mother did at her age in terms of beauty and skin colour, but had her father's hard and harsh grey eyes and black hair. Her eyes had already seen their fair share of hardship, and if the Empire was to be toppled, she appeared prepared to endure much more hardship.
Roman walked up and placed his hand on Ashla's shoulder. "I know you're getting impatient, Ash." He said, feeling a pang of pain as he thought of another he had once referred to as such. "But we need to wait for the rest of the strike team. We'll be ready to go, then."
Ashla sighed. "It's not me who's impatient." She said. "It's the others. Owen being the most impatient."
Roman chuckled. "Just like I was, when I was his age." He remarked. Owen was his own son, born three years after Ashla had been. Now twelve years old, Owen was just like Roman had been at his age. Young, impatient, impetuous. He also looked just like Roman did at that age, except his eyes, which came from his mother. Looking at Ashla, Roman said: "Tell him it won't be long until our friends arrive." As if on cue, the sound of a ship exiting hyperspace could be heard behind him, as well as the sound of oncoming fire.
"Like right now?" Ashla asked Roman with a raised eyebrow.
Roman whipped round and blinked at what he saw, before turning to Ashla and saying: "In that case, get my son up here now!"
Ashla smirked and ran off to do so. Business was just about to pick up.
Later…
"Veer left!" Ashla shouted to Owen as the former got closer to the transport than she felt comfortable being.
Owen did so, just as one of the Tie Fighters hurtled towards them, its ion thrusters producing their signature howl as the Tie opened fire on them.
They veered away just in time.
"Was it your intention to play chicken with that fighter?" Ashla said harshly, cuffing Owen over the head.
"Not exactly!" Owen replied defensively. "And just because your last co-pilot was my mother doesn't exactly mean I inherited her talent for piloting!"
Roman felt a pang of sadness at Owen's mention of his mother, that being Roman's long-term lover, Ashley. She'd perished during a raid two months before that had ended with the intervention of Darth Vader. Swallowing his sadness, Roman placed a hand on Ashla's shoulder. "Cut him some slack, Ash. He may not be his mother, but with practice, he'll be as good a pilot as she was."
Owen responded to this with a smile. It reassured him every time his father said something encouraging. With this in mind, he veered right, and found a lone Tie Fighter in his crosshairs. Nodding he made to fire, only to see the Tie explode before his eyes. Sighing in disappointment, Owen keyed the comm: "Spectre Two, that was my kill!"
"Beat you to it, Phantom Three." A female voice replied back. "Better luck next time." There was a pause before she added: "Looks like the airspace is clear. You are free to dock."
Owen nodded and veered towards the transport, which lay helpless, its engines and hyperdrive having been disabled. Sidling on next to the transport, he initiated docking sequence, jumping up from his seat. "Ready, dad?" He asked Roman.
"I still think I should be out there." Ashla said disappointedly.
"As much as I appreciate your skill out there, Owen needs the experience." Roman replied. "Right now you're needed here. Your piloting will ensure a quick getaway."
Ashla scowled, but nodded. "Okay." She said.
Roman patted her on the shoulder before turning to Owen. "Now, let's get to the docking port." He said.
Later, the docking port…
Roman and Owen stacked up on one side, whilst the other five members of his team stacked up on the other side, those being Roman's two clone trooper comrades from the Clone Wars, Shatter and Tusk, and the other three being Cassian Solus, and the siblings Thane and Sansa Kryos.
Drawing his pistol, Roman nodded to Cassian, who slammed the button to open the door.
Once the door was opened, Shatter and Tusk instantly tossed a pair of stun and EMP grenades through the door, which had the desired effect of stunning whomever was waiting for them.
"Go, go, go!" Roman shouted as he burst through first, leaping into a forward roll before coming up, blasting the first few Imperial personnel he saw, which were naturally Stormtroopers.
Owen came up beside him, his blaster downing the next few that came.
Roman smirked at this. If there was one thing about his son that Ashla could not find fault with, it was his marksmanship. Owen was a crack shot, even at twelve years old.
As usual, Cassian, Thane, Sansa and the clone brought up the rear, downing the rest that came in a hail of fire.
"Forward area clear!" Tusk bellowed, as he usually would, since he was a former ARC Trooper.
Roman nodded thanks before getting to his feet, turning to Cassian, Thane and Sansa. "You know your mission. Secure the rest of the ship. Me, Owen and the clones will take the bridge."
Cassian nodded and together, the trio stepped forward, making sure their sectors were clear.
Roman turned to his son and the clones, and nodded. "Let's move." He said.
Later, the bridge…
"That was too easy." Owen said confidently, twirling his blaster around his trigger-finger before blowing out the smoke on his blaster like one of the gunslingers of old times.
"Don't get too cocky, son." Roman cautioned. "Those words have been the last words of many people, and I'd rather my son did not end up like one of them."
Owen blushed. "Sorry dad." He replied bashfully.
"Don't be sorry, Owen." Roman said. "Just be better."
Owen nodded, and continued looking around.
"With all due respect, General, your son is right." Shatter remarked. "This was easier than it should have been."
Roman paused, and nodded in a disturbed manner. "Yes…" He replied. Shatter raised a valid point. This mission had been easier than it should have been. The last mission that had seemed this easy had been the mission where…
He shoved the memory aside. He'd rather not mourn what had happened now. Instead, he contacted Cassian, Thane and Sansa: "Cass, what's the status on securing the ship?"
"We're good, Commander." Cassian replied. "Searching the cargo hold now."
Roman nodded and cut the comm before he suddenly heard Spectre Two's voice:
"Phantom One, there's several ships about to exit hyperspace. I'd advise immediate exfil."
Owen instantly checked the readings on the bridge's sensors. "Looks like Star Destroyers. We'd better move."
As if on cue, they heard the sounds of ships exiting hyperspace could be heard, and Spectre Two's voice came back on, albeit more desperate:
"Roman, there's two Star Destroyers that just exited… Kriff, they've opened fire! Get out of there no-"
Whatever else Spectre Two said was drowned out as explosions rocked the cargo transport, throwing everyone off of their feet.
Owen took the nastiest fall, the back of his head hitting the desk behind him before he crumpled to the floor.
Roman shook his head to clear the cobwebs before he heard Ashla's voice come on:
"Roman, if you're still alive, I strongly recommend you get the fuck off of that ship!"
Getting to his feet and helping the rest up, Roman replied: "On our way, Ash, get the Empire's Bane fired up!" Turning to Owen, Roman rushed over and pulled his son to his feet: "On your feet, Owen, we ARE LEAVING!" Roman shouted as they started running.
Following the route they had taken, with explosion after explosion throwing them off balance, Tusk just shouted:
"Which way?! Which way to the Empire's Bane?!"
"To the right, to the right!" Roman shouted as they rounded the corner, finding the airlock right in front of them. Sprinting for it, they found themselves joined by Cassian, Thane and Sansa. Together, they sprinted into the safety of the Empire's Bane. Once within, Roman shut the airlock and shouted: "Get us the fuck out of here, Ashla!"
Ashla complied, and within moments, the Empire's Bane had detached from the exploding cargo transport, which exploded mere moments after they had distanced themselves.
Rushing into the cockpit, Owen took his spot, just as his father joined them, the latter scowling as he saw what awaited them:
Three entire squadrons of Tie Fighters…
"We're going to need to clear out most of these bozos if we're going to safely jump into hyperspace." Owen remarked.
"Tell us something we don't know, Owen." Ashla replied angrily.
"That's enough, Ash!" Roman replied. "Owen, get on the gun turret. I'll take over here."
Owen nodded before getting out from his seat and rushing to where he was needed.
Roman sat down before turning to Ashla. "What is your problem with Owen, exactly?" he demanded.
"Shouldn't we be focusing on getting out of here?" Ashla replied with a scowl.
Roman nodded. "Once we get back to Yavin, you and I are going to have a long talk about this." Roman said.
Ashla responded with a scowl and veered left to engage.
Immediately opening fire, Roman watched as he hit his target, blowing it up in a conflagration of gas and explosives.
"One down, Force knows how many more to go." Ashla remarked sarcastically.
Roman ignored this and focused instead on the Tie Fighters heading his way. Returning fire as much came at him, Roman found the ship shaking as Tie blasts struck the ship.
"Darn." Ashla growled. "That took a chunk out of our shields! They're at seventy-five percent!"
"When they get below fifty, then I give you permission to get worried!" Roman replied as he fired on several Tie Fighters, several of which exploded under fire from him, others exploding from the fire of the topside turret, which Roman knew was where Owen was. Raising him on the comm, Roman said: "Nice shooting, Owen!"
"Thanks dad!" Owen called out. "Stay frosty, though. We're far from out of the woods!"
Roman nodded before the ship was racked with more hits.
"Well, they're at fifty percent, now, Rome!" Ashla said, referring to the shields. "Now can I start worrying?"
"I said anything below fif-" Roman began, but was interrupted as more shots buffeted the ship.
"Okay, they're now at forty percent." Ashla said. "Is that an excuse to start worrying?"
Roman nodded. "Once it hits twenty five or under, then we make the jump to hyperspace!" He said, just as several Tie Fighters came at them. Some of these, he again blasted into oblivion, while others got destroyed by Owen's precision shooting.
"Dad, I think we're safe to jump, now!" Owen called out.
Roman nodded. "Ash, get us a course to Yavin Four, now!"
Ashla nodded and programmed the coordinates into the navigation computer, before pushing the lever that would take them into hyperspace.
And so it did, as the stars in front of them began to stretch, before they shot forward at hyper-sonic speeds, making the jump to hyperspace safely as they could.
Meanwhile, on one of the Star Destroyers…
Sweat trickled down the captain's brow as he saw this occur, looking towards the person he stood beside on the bridge. Without realising initially, he felt a heavy pressure building around his windpipe, beginning to constrict it like a serpent. Clutching at his throat, he started pawing at it helplessly before the pressure around his throat tightened to the point that his neck snapped and his windpipe was crushed. Eyes rolling up into the back of his head, the captain toppled to the floor, dead.
Darth Vader looked down at the corpse without as much as a hint of emotion. The captain had done his part to the best of his ability, but in the end had been utterly useless. Just like so many other captains that had served beneath him in the past.
Vader stepped closer to the viewpoint, folding his arms as he stared into the vacuum of space. That had been only the second time that the Jedi he sought had slipped through his fingers. And Vader was certain it would not be the last.
This got Vader thinking: What would lure the Jedi into a trap sufficient enough that they would be left with little alternative but to face Vader? It seemed that he had tried everything up to this point. Except one thing:
Turning to the second in command of the captain he had just killed, Vader said: "Congratulations, Captain Needa. You've just been promoted."
Newly minted Captain Needa saluted. "Thank you, Lord Vader." He said nervously.
Vader waved this gratitude aside before saying: "Chart a course for the Planet Mobius. Perhaps we can lure the Jedi in by striking at his own people."
Hello, and welcome to my final Star Wars and Sonic the Hedgehog fanfiction: A Jedi's Final Stand.
It's been a while since I've done anything on this site, and for that, I apologise. Schoolwork and Exam revision have been taking up the majority of my time since I finished my last fanfiction. This will be the first of five chapters that I will be posting from today up to Friday, as it is the half-term holidays.
And without further ado, thank you all so much for taking the time to read this fanfiction. If you enjoyed it, then leave a review in the appropriate section, and in the even that you really enjoyed it, then please favourite and follow this fanfiction, in order to be able to catch the next four chapters as they are uploaded.
And with that said, thank you all for reading, and May the Force be With You. Always.
T-Rock14