The Five of Ilo, Part 2: Ready Assault

On the Great Fire Plains of Ilo, all was peaceful. The sun's light shone bright in the sky and its rays reflected on the silvery grass making the expanse appear as if on fire. A light breeze swept the ground and fanned the flames. All around the sounds of nature were all that could be heard, a beautiful day by any standard.

Nearby, the city of Dastra could be seen with its odd, twisting buildings rising into the skyline, their sapphire colored walls glowing in the sun. Built in a unique architectural style, the city lacked any corners or straight lines for all its streets and walkways curved and twisted in beautiful patterns. At the center of Dastra stood the Hall of Inspiration, a magnificent domed building with brilliant crystal structures that twisted and reached into the sky. Truly it was a site to behold.

Within the city, the native Ipo lived in relative peace. Human in appearance, they had dark skin that contrasted heavily with their white hair. Yet, their most striking feature was their eyes. In light they were white and produced a blind stare, but at night, they glowed a beautiful icy blue. Spiritual by nature, they were rarely violent and focused much of their culture on the refinement of the arts, with their finest works known to only the most exclusive of circles and art collectors in the galaxy. Because of their lifestyle, it was quite rare to see an Ipo away from Ilo and even rarer for the Ipo to become involved in the matters of other worlds. It was due to this isolation from most of the galaxy, that they had remained hidden and unscathed by the Clone Wars for so long. That soon was about to change. For high above the planet's surface, an evil prepares for invasion.

"Are the assault droids ready yet!" A large, heavy-set female Neimoidian screamed from the center of the command deck of the Voluptuous. "I want to be on the planet's surface now!" Her large hands slammed onto the console in front of her sending battle droids scurrying into all directions. A single droid turned to face her and spoke, "But mistress, the preparations to the assault ships are not yet complete. We were not prepared to land on such short notice. Uh, why are we landing on this planet anyway?"

"You dare to question my authority!" She pulls out a blaster from under her large robes with surprising speed and points it at the droid's head. "I should blow you up for such insolence, you stupid piece of metal! When I say that I want to invade a planet, you . . . do it . . . and get it done . . . immediately!" She pauses to breathe. "Now see what you have done to me." The large Neimoidian began to breathe heavily and falls to her chair. "Refreshments! Now!" Two protocol droids emerged from the blast doors and tended to her.

"Calm down now, my dear. You are Boz Elysa of the Trade Federation. You have a dignity to uphold," said a voice from the corner of the deck. "Ah. Foontrick Doon. Forgive me. How embarrassing. I didn't know you were awake yet," Boz Elysa's mannerisms changed to that of a flirtatious girl. "These battle droids just get me so irritated sometimes," she said as she flopped her large body around her seat to face the Sy Myrthian in the corner.

"It is quite alright," said Foontrick as he slugged into the center of the room. A member of a Sy Myrthian race, Foontrick's round body rested on a single large tail. His entire body was covered in a short layer of turquoise fur that he covered with large golden robes that hung over his belly and tail. The Sy Myrthian's long head extended back into a thick crest. His face seemed scrunched with his large, flat nose and beady orange eyes that seemed to get more confused as his large body continued to inch toward to the navi-computer. Foontrick gazed upon the console and then turned to face Boz. "Now, my dear, please tell me what is going on. Why have we pulled out of hyperspace? These coordinates are nowhere near our course and this planet does not look like Dac. Were we not supposed to be meeting the fleet?" Boz's large yellow eyes looked down for a second and then looked up to meet with Foontrick's gaze. "We are . . . and we will. Just after this quick stop on this little planet."

"A quick stop? For what?" asked Foontrick as he turned to face the planet ahead of them. "That is the planet Ilo. The home of some of the greatest artists in the entire galaxy! If I were to capture this planet, they would all belong to me!" laughed Boz Elysa. Foontrick closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side. "And, let me guess, you are going to take those artists, make them create works of glorious art for you, sell them to become incredibly rich, and then use that money to take control of the Trade Federation." An eerie smile overtook Boz Elysa's wrinkly face. "Your reputation as a Neimoidian precedes you, my dear. Even in time of war, your race continues to only think of schemes to increase your own power and wealth."

"How dare you! This is my ship! These are my droids! I shall do with them as I please," screamed Boz. She stared angrily at the alien in front of her. Her mind raced with thoughts, but then her face calmed and an eerie smile appeared over her wrinkled face. Boz began to waddle toward Foontrick, her large hips attempting to sway from side to side. She rested her corpulent form on the Foontrick's back and raised her hand to stroke his face. "Think about it. You're a man of refinement. If this plan of mine succeeds, think of how many credits we would have," She pulled herself closer and began to whisper into Foontrick's ear, "The highest buildings in all of Coruscant would be yours. You could have hundreds of real Ipoan masterpieces decorating your walls. All around, gorgeous Twi'lek girls dressed in the most beautiful and expensive designer gowns in the whole galaxy. It could all be yours. You would be richer than all the Hutts combined."

"And for you?" asked Foontrick.

"Well, it would be just like you said. There are a lot of people out there who would pay a lot of credits for even a single piece of Ipoan art," Boz flopped around and waddled back to her seat. Foontrick turned head his away from the Neimoidian.

"Disgraceful. This plan of yours is incredibly stupid and pathetic. It would be a complete waste of our time and efforts, and the Voluptuous is not prepared for such an assault. I shall take no part in it," said Foontrick as he turned to return to his quarters.

Boz Elysa took no notice to her partner's rant as he left the room, for her mind was consumed with thoughts of wealth and glory. Soon she would be Viceroy of the Trade Federation. It's vast wealth at her disposal to do with as she pleased. She began to laugh maniacally.

"Uh. Mistress." Her moment broken, she turned angrily to the droid, "What!"

"The preparations are done mistress. We can land as soon as you are ready."

"I was ready ages ago!"

"Uh. So does that mean we should land?" said a battle droid to another.

BOOM! The droid's head exploded in a large flash and was sent flying across the command deck. As the smoke cleared, Boz Elysa stood breathing heavily once again in the center with her blaster drawn. "I want this ship landed now!"

"Roger, roger."