From the filtered view of space where planets had a geometrically pleasing curvature and all colors of the natural spectrum had a surreal elegance about them; Dantooine betrayed its onlookers with a significantly different surface.
In reality, the marble green of Dantooine was a result of the gases in its atmosphere and their reaction with the clouds. The actual surface of the planet's continents were mostly blanketed in a fine olive-colored long grass.
Over the millennia, Dantooine's surface had been ravaged by earthquakes. Although serene, one would be hard-pressed to find a patch of flat land any larger than a few kilometres square on any of its four sizeable continents. Serrated rock faces framed much of the planet's surface, forming interesting shapes that the human eye would make visual constellations of.
There were many caverns entrenched by the tools of nature wherever a canyon would make its residence, each of them housing valuable ores and minerals ripe for harvesting. The entrances of these fissures in the cliffs would often be secreted by clusters of trees known as Blba by the settlers that inhabited these regions. They were thick and majestic, with pale brown trunks and foliage that only spawned one season a year. What they lacked in height they compensated with in width, each trunk being anywhere from three to five meters in diameter. They were certainly fat trees, and their branches followed suit yet grew long. Their prickly branches would, over many years, find themselves entangled and merging with those of a fellow tree, creating a thick canopy in some alcoves of the world.
The Blba trees were not in season, and their contorted but stoutly shapes sat bare along the canyon linings. The dense grassy surface hatching the trunks of the Blba trees usually elevated to a peak the sparser the forestry became, forming rolling hills and a lumpy horizon.
One such hillside on Dantooine was the current nesting ground of a group of quadrupedal creatures named kath hounds. Left alone they were peaceful creatures, but bothered by intruders they would either become aggressive or skittish – depending on the size of the imposter.
Any peaceful moment that the crème-furred kath hounds in question may have enjoyed was cut short when the creatures heard a distant rumble from the sky above. The animals looked up, alert and nervous to see a vague shape tumbling from the clouds. It was falling at an alarming rate, and all six of the creatures of varying sizes took some steps backward before bolting from the hillside entirely.
Luke's X-wing was a mangled mess as it plummeted to the ground. Artoo shrieked – most likely at the ship's computer – as he wrestled with any faculties that were available to slow the X-wing's approach. He managed to send the ship's last fumes of power into the repulsorlifts on the underside of the hull, but wouldn't activate them until the ship was essentially scraping the ground.
When that moment arrived, Artoo engaged the rear repulsorlifts so that the nose of the X-wing tilted up toward the sky before the initial impact. This would hopefully minimize the damage done to the cockpit and ensure Luke's safety. The hanging aft of the craft sent a geyser of dirt and shredded grass blades out from behind it as the vessel roared down the declining gradient in the hillside. When it hit the bottom, the X-wing's mostly incinerated wings began to slice through the tops of the Blba trees, amputating what branches were in the way and throwing them fifty feet into the air. The X-wing left behind it a perfect column of destruction that would extend deep into the clustered forestry. Debris from the ship and pieces of tree threatened to rupture Artoo's durasteel exterior, and there was little involved in his survival other than blind luck. Most of the flying biological carnage would hit his dome and bounce off, but the bigger parts were going to leave a few marks if the little astromech was going to get through this.
After the barricade of the Blba trees had slowed the X-wing, Artoo engaged the front repulsorlifts before the ship dipped too low and they hit something big, which would have ended things very fast. They hissed when activated but were no louder than the ensuing chaos when the X-wing finally hit something large enough to take a chunk out of the hull and slow it down considerably.
This impact caused the ship to bounce above the tree canopy and over a forty-foot rock face, bringing the ship back to a softer bedding on the long grass. It slid for another half a klick before finally coming to a comparatively uneventful halt. Artoo's first robotic protocol was to check on the life signs of his master, but he couldn't do that housed in the ship's warped hull. The astromech compartment had buckled inward considerably and was now keeping Artoo from self-ejecting. Employing a buzz saw kept inside a small partition of the droid's front, Artoo cut himself free of the wreckage, and used his own built-in rocket boosters to launch himself upward and out of the craft. He shot through the air as if fired from a cannon and with a thud, landed unceremoniously deep in the long grass. Artoo uttered the droid equivalent of 'phew'.
The droid rolled around for a bit and transferred weight into various places to get himself upright onto his three supports. Using the motorized all-terrain treads inherent to his model, Artoo rolled over the side of the upright X-wing, searching for any sign of movement inside. There was none.
It took some effort, but once positioned securely topside on the X-wing Artoo was able to pry open the cockpit hatch with various mechanical appendages. There was a hiss as the oxygen inside the cockpit merged with the slightly different combination of gases in Dantooine's atmosphere when the air-tight seal was broken. Luke, clumped in one corner of the cockpit wearing an incandescent orange flightsuit, still hadn't regained consciousness. It became clear to Artoo that no amount of prodding or chirping was going to awaken Luke – whatever had happened to his master was severe.
Artoo heard some movement brushing in the olive long grass only a few meters away, and he hummed alertly to himself. He swivelled quickly to face the source of the sound, but his sensors only picked up a thick column of Blba trees the X-wing had overflown somewhere behind them in the distance. The droid remained vigilant, and scanned the horizon carefully. The Dantooine sky was by now becoming a rich shade of crimson with sapphire highlights lining the clouds as the planet's twenty-five hour day had struck twilight.
There was nothing but the humanly calming rustle of long grass; a stark contrast to the booming pandemonium that had preceded it. Artoo's artificial senses would not lie to him however, and the droid was adamant there was something out there. There were life signals blipping away on his radar, and they were in close proximity.
The reading was correct – but he was searching in the wrong direction. A gargantuan shadow fit for a rancor monster from Dathomir crept over the cockpit of the X-wing. The dying light of Dantooine's dusk that permeated Artoo's banged-up metal shell was swallowed up. Artoo uttered a nervous electronic whimper as his ultraviolet sensors picked up on the change in light, and he spun his dome head around 180 degrees.
Towering over the downed structure of the X-wing was a mammoth humanoid, closer to the dimensions of a snow beast from Hoth than any man known to Artoo. Scantily clad, the creature had nothing but a single strip of fur hide draped across one shoulder and a loincloth of sorts. It looked as though a severed kath hound tail was fastening the cloth to its waist. The tree-trunk arms of the being secured it to the top of the X-wing, and sluggishly heaved the rest of its mass upward so it could get a good look at Artoo.
The two came eye to eye. Artoo gathered what information he could, noting that the structure of the intruder's face was mostly human-like. He had a flat face that looked like it'd seen the wrong end of an ionized laminasteel press, shaggy eyebrows that would be home to at least three species of native mite and matching hair to boot.
"Ooh" the beast rumbled. It lifted chunky finger caked with dirt and guided it toward Artoo's midsection, to which the droid squawked warningly. The bigger of the two chose to persevere regardless, and found himself the recipient of a pinching jolt of plasma energy. A white spark crackled as Artoo's fusion welder, at perfect cheek height of the encroaching behemoth, fizzled away. A warning shot.
Startled, the beast gasped, first losing his footing and then his balance entirely. An audible thud sounded as he crashed into the long grass.
An immediate databank analysis revealed the tanned humanoid with leathery skin as a member of the Dantari, an indigenous species of Dantooine. Nomads in both culture and appearance, they would travel the grasslands in an everlasting search for food. Exposure to the technology introduced to the planet by farmers and settlers had done nothing to change their ways – the Dantari could only understand these things in principle and not practice. That this specific Dantari was part of a larger tribe was certain, and Artoo was unsure about how other members of the species would react. So far, this Dantari seemed harmless enough.
As the native climbed to his feet and rubbed his brow, Artoo clambered about on top of the X-wing, watching his movements cautiously. Once up, keeping a wary eye on the by-comparison minute droid, he trailed his hand along the beaten side of the ship. Finding the texture sublime as he stroked toward the bow, he let out another 'Ooh', this time more approving. Deducting that the creature would have already smashed him to bits if he'd wanted to, Artoo realized the stranger was more inquisitive than hostile. He clambered further down the topside of the X-wing eventually positioned himself just behind the cockpit hatch.
When the Dantari reached the nose of the craft, the bright orange of Luke's flightsuit caught his eye. In spite of Artoo's threatening drones, he stretched his arms into the cockpit and wedged them between the seat and Luke's limp body. He attempted to extract Luke from the craft, but the harness prevented him from doing so. With one swift tug and firm grip, the Dantari was able to tear the harness from its mounts like a weed out of the dirt. He tossed them aside and took every care to remove Luke from the ship safely before placing him gently on the ground. The big humanoid rumbled a sigh as he gave Luke a couple of nudges in the gut with his fist. Artoo had dropped down from the ship and came to his master's side, electronic words of warning whistling off in the Dantari's direction.
When Artoo felt confident enough that the creature wouldn't attack him, he tilted over Luke slightly, examining his life signs.
He was alive – out cold – but alive. Artoo tried mentioning this to the Dantari, as little good as he thought it would do, and to his surprise the native responded. He patted his chest, which produced a tremendous smacking sound, and said with a guttural tone,
"Duuruk."
The droid tilted upright to face him.
"Duuruk," he said again. He appeared to wait for Artoo's acknowledgement, and the droid obliged with a chirp. He at least understood 'Duuruk' as the Dantari's name.
"Ukka. Uhmu ukka" he said next.
The language was primitive. Whatever this creature was saying – he was pointing into the distance, where nothing but a vast landscape of rolling plains awaited.
It was unclear whether this simple-minded individual, or one of his kind, would have the sympathy or know-how to help resuscitate Master Luke, but alas; what choice was there.
Artoo-Deetoo submitted, rolling forward a notch into the openness with a chirp of affirmation to his newfound companion. A satisfied grunt came out of Duuruk and he leaned down to Luke, sliding a hand under his torso. He propped the human up onto his shoulders and held him there securely with the same arm while his legs dangled about. He rose to a standing position and grunted at Artoo to follow his lead.
The spiralling neon blue tube of hyperspace travel was a sight to behold even for those who were accustomed to it. Ever-twisting clouds of blue hues whirled around the Zurillion VII as the bone-shaped cruiser travelled at point-four past lightspeed. The tool of interstellar travel had existed long before the dawn of most civilizations in the galaxy had even begun, and it was inarguably the most pivotal reason why star systems had been able to flourish technologically.
It had made for a smaller galaxy, and because it was unable to accommodate the hunger for undisputed galactic rule, there had been galaxy-wide warfare for about as long as there existed hyperdrive engines.
A pressurized doorway slid into its upward compartment as if it weighed nothing, and Princess Leia stood in the exterior corridor with her Iridonian Zabrak guard. A following of armed Rebel troops came next, filling up the corridor fast.
Leia entered the cavity deliberate and slow to look upon the Imperial prisoners. It was more a chamber than room, a large but cluttered space as far aft of the ship as was accessible from the inside. The inside was dim, only lit by a few ceiling panels and some status readouts here and there. As it was located directly in front of the main reactor, not far from the sublight engines, there was a grinding drone not present in the other parts of the ship interior. In reality, the sublight maintenance chambers were never intended to be used for the purposes of transporting prisoners, but it was only in more recent years the Rebellion had found itself in this position. The old security holds had been repurposed to account for the extra crewmembers aboard the ship and would perhaps now be too hospitable for the likes of Imperial guests.
The smell of the chamber was an unregulated concoction of grease and ion-turbine coolant, but the faintest hint of burning fuels was the most unwelcome scent as Leia walked further inside.
The engineering deck was littered with open panels leaking transmission wire, conduits and fuel pipelines, but although the ship seemed to be under constant repair, it was just the balancing act of maximizing the ship's spacetravel efficiency. The case was no different here.
Leia looked over to her left and saw the first two, lower-ranked officers boxed inside a crimson-shimmering force-field. They brought themselves to the front of the screen with urgency as they saw Leia and her entourage approach, bitter expressions on their faces with tired eyes. She then brought her attention to the other force-field in the room – identical to the first but keeping the prized-catch of Grand Moff Aredis separate from her associates. By now, surely the Imperial pilots would have come to grips with their situation – Aredis had betrayed the Empire.
The dark-skinned woman remained composed in her prison cubicle, unruffled by Leia's approach. Sitting nonchalantly with her arms crossed on an empty duralloy container, she made a simple adjustment to the top of her grey, tight-fitting tunic as the princess approached.
"Tallo," Leia said to her guard, "Take down the shield."
The Zabrak said nothing and did as requested, interfacing with a holographic device wrapped around his wrist. With a few beeps, the force-field dissipated. The newly freed Imperial defector decided not to move in spite of this. Instead, she watched the Rebel troops all point blaster pistols in her general direction. Leia walked toward Aredis, crossing her arms and matching the woman's pose. "Please," Leia said, "Come with me."
Making no sudden movements, Aredis lowered her arms and approached Leia. The crescent of Rebel troops encircled the two as they made their way out of the chamber. The Imperial pilots trapped behind the remaining force-field stared holes into the traitor as she walked by. She did not return the gesture.
Aredis was seated in a much more hospitable environment when they reached their destination on the other side of the Zurillion VII. The sterile white of the walls was a shock to her eyes, coming from such a darker place beforehand. As Tallo closed the door from the outside and left them be, Leia decided to remain standing. Unlike the mugginess of the maintenance chamber, the stateroom had a fresh coolness about its air. Holographic memorabilia of the now-destroyed planet of Alderaan had been tastefully implemented into the room's design. A three-dimensional model of the palace Leia spent a good deal of her childhood in served her with both a warm memory and an unrelenting heartache.
Leia walked the circumference of the room slowly, taking a moment to compile her words.
"There's no turning back from this" she finally said. "After we reach the Alliance, the Empire will never again allow you to walk in its domain" Leia said firmly. Aredis narrowed her deep green eyes.
"And you would let me go?" Aredis asked, surprised.
"The Empire is destroying itself, it's inevitable now. We don't deal with prisoners like they would. There is always a choice."
Leia eyed the Imperial Moff, watching her reaction to the statement thoroughly. There was every chance that Aredis was a double-agent, still working for the Empire – regardless of how diplomatic she presented herself. In the history of the Empire, no one of such caliber and authority had ever turned their back on it to join the Alliance; the fact that Aredis was standing on-board a Rebel ship without any restraint –face to face with Princess Leia of all people – was truly a miracle.
Aredis, contrary to the Imperial stereotype, nodded with an honesty in her eye that said she understood.
"I've had enough time to reconsider. I've made my decision."
Leia pressed on.
"Then perhaps you could offer us a gesture of trust before the next civilian system comes under attack?"
Aredis stopped and considered.
"It's rather early in negotiations, your highness."
"Every care will be taken with you and your Imperial friends here. You have my word."
Leia took a brisk step forward, but Aredis remained calm and composed. "Countless civilians have lost their lives for defying the Empire and declaring their independence – you know this. Ord Canfre lies in ruins as we speak. Can you say nothing?"
Aredis absorbed the words, then sighed and turned to face away from Leia.
"Patience, your highness… You'll have your answers soon enough. We can talk further when I meet with the rest of your Alliance friends."
The words were not delivered with antagonism, but calmness. It was ironic to Leia that the woman could speak with such an imperturbable tone, for inner workings of her feelings said otherwise.
"You're afraid" Leia said. She sat down at the stateroom table and swiped the projection away with a hand movement so it turned plain white. Aredis shifted in her seat.
"Afraid, you say, your highness?"
"I can feel it" Leia responded, adamant.
The Force could often act as a vignette into one's mind. While Leia had only begun to grasp the abilities granted to her by her bloodline, there was an ever-present awareness – a knowing, that would fill her thoughts from time to time.
It was a gift that very few believed in; that most would question with a quizzical look whenever the myth of the Force was mentioned. Conversely, since discovering her new instincts, Leia had never questioned them. She often pondered whether or not they had always been there. Perhaps it was just that her brother, Luke, had been able to awaken the gift of the Force within her and turn it into something more tangible – something she could call upon. She didn't know how Aredis would react – only that there was conflict behind those frosty emerald eyes.
Aredis indeed looked quizzical.
"Of course, your feelings are your prerogative, your highness. My thoughts on the matter are clear" she said, unperturbed. Leia remained unconvinced.
"I hope, for your sake and ours, that your thoughts on the matter are clear indeed."