Only the OCs are mine. I'm just playing with Jo's and George's creations.
Aboard New Horizon, hyperspace, route undisclosed
The ride out from Coruscant was unsettlingly easy. TIE fighters had pursued the craft, of course, but at the first sign of armed retaliation, they had broken off and returned to their Star Destroyers. All of the rebel commandoes had expressed disbelief, prompting Kota to order a dangerous blind jump three consecutive times. Lynpa'sik was particularly vocal in her protests, arguing that one blind jump was dangerous enough, let alone three. In the end, Kota had silenced her protests by stating that the Force guided his actions.
The hours between each jump were spent tending to the wounded, cleaning and maintaining their weapons and equipment, and coping with the disaster of the evacuation.
Ron's leg wound was tended to easily, the scorching of his clothing making a light graze seem like a grievous wound. A bacta patch was applied to his wound and within a couple hours, he was up and moving about the ship. He spent his time walking around the ship, talking to the soldiers and learning about the rebellion. He also sat with his sister and tried to comfort her, but she remained mostly silent, not wanting to talk.
Private Teyler was in worse shape. With one blaster wound to the leg and another to his chest, he was fortunate that his body armor had done its job, the ablative layers absorbing the worst of the blast. Some, however, had still transferred through and he was kept restrained while bacta was applied to his wounds. The worst of the damage, though, had come not from the blaster wounds, but from a heavy concussion due to his proximity to a grenade detonation. He was forced to remain awake through the pain. He was kept awake by the constant attention of Private Ghrees, who kept him awake talking about the after action reports, the latest smashball victory by the Karfeddion Skull Crackers, and the merits of pazaak versus sabacc.
Hermione had withdrawn from the group, troubled by her killing of the stormtrooper who had wounded Ron. She did this by isolating herself in one of the port crew cabins, which she shared with Ginny, then buried herself with studying on this new galaxy they found themselves in. The first thing to study was how to read the language. Luckily the grammar was the same as English, so she only had to keep a translation at hand of which symbols corresponded to each letter. She was fascinated in the datapad Kota had given her about galactic history from the Blockade of Naboo through the Clone Wars and the transition of the Republic into the Galactic Empire, and finally up to a few months before their arrival. She had spotted what, to her, were clear indications that magic was an everyday part of life for both wizardkind and muggles. One detail that nagged at her though was Kota's ability to use electronics without shorting them out despite the power that radiated from him. In fact, it offest her that she could feel him, and the other beings on board, as well. She could also feel Ginny and Ron, who radiated brighter than the others, but less than Kota. She resolved to question him once they had landed again.
Ginny took to sitting in the aft cargo section, staring at a picture of her and Harry. In the picture, he stood behind her, arms wrapped around her stomach while she leaned her head back onto his shoulder. It was the only picture she had of him now. She felt lost now. Hermione and Ron had each other. But as much as Ron tried, he couldn't comfort her the way Harry did. He couldn't wrap his arms around her, kiss the top of her head and make everything all right. She needed to get Harry back from the Empire.
Corporals Sills and Lynpa'sik had devoted themselves to restoring morale in their troopers as best they could. They kept them on drills in the confined space they had, stripping weapons down and reassembling them, discussions on Alliance ethics, and working to develop a reasonable team out of a shattered company. They split the remaining soldiers between themselves, Tabler Ghrees and Amita Byren making up Sills' assault team, while Joss Teyler stayed with Lynpa'sik to form a long range support unit. If they saw action soon, Teyler would be a liability due to his concussion. The two developed plans and tactics for the interim, until they could rendezvous with whatever remained of Kota's command and get reintegrated with full units.
Meanwhile, General Kota meditated and searched for a suitable world for them to touch down and fully recover. He finally decided on the planet Osarian, a planet near the Corellian Run. He knew it would be risky, as the Corellian Run was a major hyperspace route and as such it was likely to be under observation by the Empire. Hopefully, their random jump sequence would place them near one of the lesser worlds and enable them to follow the route out to Osarian without any incidents. From there he hoped he might be able to get into contact with the Alliance cells in the Outer Rim.
Location unknown, time unknown
Harry awoke from yet another induced slumber on his back with a very bright light in his face. This is getting old, he thought. He looked to his right and saw nothing but a dark blur. A look to his left revealed the same view. He sighed, on top of everything, he had lost is glasses. Yeah, very old.
"You have caused quite a disturbance with my master's acolytes, Mister Potter." It was that voice again, that cold mechanical voice, accompanied by wheezing rhythmic breaths. The one that had delivered that thrashing to Alnares Flyth just before he had Harry drugged. Silence followed, broken only by the breathing of Harry's latest captor. "You claim to have no knowledge of the Force, yet I feel it within you so strongly. You certainly seem young enough to have been born after the Purge, though for one to be so strong, it would have been impossible to keep you concealed from my master's sight."
The voice came closer. Harry could see now that one of the shadows he was looking at was in fact a person. Black leather and armor creaked against each other. Lights blinked on what should be the man's chest and Harry could just make out the edges of a helmet.
"Who are you?" Harry asked, his voice trembling slightly. This man radiated fear and it was affecting Harry even though he tried to focus on anything else.
"You will address me as Lord Vader or Master. I will oversee your training in the Force. Together you and I will overthrow the Emperor and establish a just rule over the galaxy. You will find the strength granted by the power of the Force."
"No!" Strength surged into Harry as he felt his temper flare. Why did these types always want to convert him? "I'll never join your side. Kill me and be done with it. I won't be a pawn in your plans." Right then, Harry wanted nothing more than for Vader to be gone. He felt a strange wave wash over him and then fly towards Vader, knocking him down on one knee.
"Very good. Your raw talent in the Force is considerable. With training you could be even more powerful." Vader rose again. "We shall start tomorrow. Until then, I will arrange for new quarters for you." With that, Vader turned and strode from the room.
Kithhip Spaceport, Planet Shimia, 1027 hours galactic standard
As their two week journey aboard the shuttle progressed, all the occupants began to get comfortable around each other. During one of their stops, on a planet called Shimia, Private Byren took Hermione out among the spaceport. The younger woman had been assigned to her for basic training in the Alliance's guerilla tactics.
"One of the first rules a guerilla fighter learns is how to blend in with her surroundings," Private Byren had explained, "and since we're on an Imperial world, we'll be blending in with the locals to guard the ship." She led Hermione off the shuttle, looking around at the docking berth. Not seeing any immediate threats, the two left the bay and walked toward a data stand.
"Step one: acquire appropriate clothing to blend in." Byren called up a holomap of the spaceport at the data stand and highlighted the pilots Commons and Promenade. Part of Hermione's training exercise would include shopping, it would seem.
"What will we be doing there?" Hermione asked. "I thought we were supposed to guard the ship."
"Yes, we are supposed to guard the ship," Byren continued her walking lesson in the direction the map indicated, "but we draw far less attention to ourselves and our purpose if we just act like a normal shuttle crew, instead of standing at the doors, blasters drawn."
"Well, I guess I can understand that," Hermione kept looking around, certain she was supposed to look for more stormtroopers, but not sure if she should be watching for anything else. "But why can't we just sit outside at a restaurant and keep watch?" She remembered the way Harry, Ron and her had kept watch at the Ministry of Magic, though to be fair, they had had Harry's invisibility cloak.
"Right, because no one would notice two attractive women sitting all by their lonesome at a tapcafe in the middle of a pilots hub," Byren was sarcastic, but she grinned at Hermione as she said it, "We'd be approached by every pilot twice over. We wouldn't be able to see the bay or any other unwanted attention."
"So how is shopping going to help us keep an eye on things?"
"Because what in the galaxy is so abnormal about two young ladies going shopping together while their ship refuels?" In truth, Byren was not even remotely as irritated as her voice sounded. She was actually pleased that Hermione asked questions and tried to think of alternatives, but the girl needed to get a better grip on the way the galaxy worked.
"I'm sorry, private Byren, I don't mean to be a burden," Hermione was speaking rapidly, the words spilling out, "I just have to know why something is the way it is sometimes. I know we told you we fought a war, but it wasn't one we had-" she stopped abruptly as Byren whirled to face her and grabbed both her shoulders.
"Never refer to anyone by their rank unless you're on an Alliance base," she hissed as she quickly cast a glance around, but no one seemed to notice, "or you're in uniform. We're not in uniform and we aren't on an Alliance base, we are civilians on an Imperial world. Mistakes like that will get us killed."
Hermione nodded quickly, her eyes wide and she stammered, "I, I'm sorry, I'm not used to this kind of thing."
"Get used to it and fast," she held Hermione's gaze and hardened an edge in her voice she used on men who couldn't take a hint, "because you don't get a second chance all the time." Then she softened a bit, both her face and her voice relaxing a bit, "Look, call me Amita while we're dirtside, okay?"
"Okay, Amita." Hermione was shaken, having felt a feeling of anguish wash over her as the woman had lectured her.
"Now come on, we have to get you some proper civvy clothes until you get your combat uniform."
They spent the next two hours browsing through the stores that were mainly geared toward a more male crowd, but they did find some clothes that would work for Hermione.
"Amita, I don't have any money," Hermione looked worriedly at the price tag and hoped she read the numbers correctly, "and whatever money I had when we, I guess, stumbled into this place probably wouldn't mean anything here anyway."
"Relax, this won't cost much and you can pay me back once we get back to our base," Byren walked with her up to the service kiosk, which was operated by a bored looking human female who would probably feel more at home at some flaunt concert. "How's business been today," she addressed the girl as she read the name plate on her shirt, "Sharra?"
"Slow," the girl replied, managing to make retail look like the most soul-sucking job around, "can't seem to find enough customers."
"Oh, what a shame," Byren said, putting on a concerned face, "you're not going to have to close up shop, are you?"
"Maybe, but if that happens I'll jump on with my cousin's freight business. Ride the hyperspace lanes for a while, maybe set up shop elsewhere." Her accent was vaguely American, and when she spoke, it came across as disinterested in the galaxy in general.
"Why has business gone down? This seems like a prime spot."
"Imperial trade tariffs, coupled with the garrison all but transferred off this island makes any business hard to maintain. And as you noticed, there aren't many female freighter crew members needing frippery."
"Yeah, I can see how that might make things hard. Well, listen, a few spots opened up on my uncle's ship, and we'll be here a couple days, so if you decide to close out early, we have room on board if you'd like."
Sharra looked interested now, "I might. What does your uncle do?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," Amita smiled at her while her hand made a dismissing geture like she was shooing the dust off the counter.
By this time, Hermione was confused by what was going on. She kept looking over her shoulder out at the street and then back at the seemingly random exchange between Amita and Sharra.
"Amita, shouldn't we be going?" She asked, her nervous feelings showing in her voice.
"Oh, in a minute, Hermione," Amita was completely calm, quite different from her fear when they had first touched down. She turned back to Sharra, "I'm sorry, my younger sister is a little nervous."
"That's alright." Sharra turned to Hermione, "You can relax, you know. No one's going to bother us here."
"Um, okay. I'm sorry, I'll be alright. Really," Hermione smiled a bit, though she was still shy of this girl.
"This is her first time out on my uncle's ship," Amita explained, though Hermione knew this was not the entire truth. "I promised I'd take her dirtside with me at our first stop."
"Ah," Sharra smiled even more at Hermione, "so you're coming to pick up a souvenir to remember your trip by?"
"Yeah, I guess." Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the mention of purchasing the items.
"Tell you what, do you have any friends?" Sharra leaned on the counter with both elbows, cupping her chin in her hands.
"Well of course, I have a few friends." Hermione wasn't sure how much to tell this girl.
"Any of them along for the ride?" Sharra asked, her grin still shining.
"A couple of them," Amita stepped in again, "along with some of my buddies. Why don't you come back and meet them?"
"Bring her back with us?" Hermione could not conceal her shock. "Amita, are you serious?"
"Yeah. Don't worry, our uncle won't mind her."
"Let me just lock down the security gates. It's almost time for my lunch anyway."
Sure enough, it was close to noon when they arrived at the New Horizon.
New Horizon, Kithhip Spaceport, Planet Shimia, 1033 hours galactic standard
After Hermione had left with Private Byren, Ron went down to the aft cargo hold to see if his sister would be willing to talk, or at least look up from her picture. When he went down the rampway that led to the lower decks, however, he found the door guarded by Lynpa'sik.
"What's going on?" Ron began to rush forward toward the door.
Lynpa'sik stopped him, explaining, "General Kota came to speak to her. She asked that they not be disturbed until they were finished."
"So I'm just supposed to wait here? How do I know she really asked that?" Ron looked at the Twi'lek hotly, his fists clenching at his side. He did not like the idea of his little sister out of his sight where he could not protect her.
"They will let me know when they are finished. But no, you are not supposed to wait here. I want you to report to Corporal Sills for basic weapons training. You were a pretty good shot, but you could use some training and you'll need to learn how to maintain your weapon." She steered him back up the ramp and gave him a soft shove. "Go, now."
Ron left, grumbling, but he did as he was told.
When he arrived at the shuttle's common area, Corporal Sills was laying out several types of blaster pistols and rifles. The human looked up at him, then continued to lay out the weapons.
"Private Weasley, good of you to join me," Sills placed the last pistol on the bench, then, straightened his posture, clasping his hand behind his back. "What can you tell me about these weapons on the workbench?"
"That they hurt like hell?" Ron couldn't help letting this remark slip out, and he bit his tongue to stop further outbursts.
"Only if you're on the receiving end again," Sills let a half smile show for an instant, then regained his strict military bearing. "What you have before you are an assortment of the most common blaster pistols and rifles you'll come across during your service in this unit."
"What service? We agreed to join this rebellion, to advise and what have you, but we never said anything about fighting."
"And every member of the Alliance learns how to use weapons. You may not be deployed in a front line unit, but when the Imps hit our bases, we can't be worried about non-combatants, and neither will Imp troops."
"Fine then, but how are we going to practice?" Ron looked around the common area, not all that large and certainly not large enough to fire weapons in.
"The lower cargo section has sufficient space and we will set up a target range down there, once General Kota is finished. But, before you fire a weapon again, you're going to have to learn how to care for and operate the technology. The general has informed me that where you came from has no weapons as advanced as ours, but the concepts aren't too different." He picked up a small holdout blaster and proceeded to disassemble the weapon until the basic components lay neatly arranged before him. Next he picked up each part and explained its place and function. When he was finished he reassembled the weapon and held it out to Ron.
Ron gulped as he took hold of the grip with shaking hands, as though afraid the weapon would sprout teeth and bite him. "I think I should tell you, we're not exactly familiar with this sort of thing. Our dad tinkered with muggle junk, not muggle weapons."
"What is a muggle?"
"Muggles are the non magic kinds of people. Not wizards or witches. Sometimes though, muggles have magical children and sometimes, rarely, the other way around. We needed a way of describing them when they had to have contact with our world."
"Ah, so the three of you are not muggles?" Sills started to walk forward, a blaster tucked into a holster on his leg. "But the rest of this crew is?"
"Most of you, yeah. But the general, it's strange, we can sort of feel him, a lot stronger than everyone else." Ron turned to follow him.
"That's because you are all sensitive to the Force," Kota's voice announced from the aft hatchway. He stepped through into the small hold, then, addressed Sills. "Corporal, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I need Mister Weasley to come with me. We have much to discuss."
"As you command, General," Sills saluted and turned to leave through the fore hatch, "I'll run some more drills with the rest of the squad."
Kota then turned to Ron and said, "Your sister is waiting down in the cargo hold. But you and I need to have this discussion privately."
Ron gulped, "Yes, sir." He didn't understand why, but this man radiated power that scared him and comforted him at the same time. Kota's tone, however, suggested he was extremely serious right now.
Kota gestured for Ron to join him at the small table on one side of the hold.
"Ronald, do you know what the Force is?" Kota laced his fingers together and laid his hands down on the table.
"Um, no, sir," Ron shook his head, "but Hermione might. She studied more than all of us put together at Hogwarts."
"Don't, worry. I'll be speaking to her as well," Kota seemed to stare right at Ron, even through the blindfold that shielded his eyes, "right now, though, there are some facts you need to know. And yes, I'll explain how they connect to you.
"First, I was a member of an order of Force-users who maintained galactic peace for millennia. It was our duty to preserve life and serve the light side of the Force. We were called Jedi. Over time another group emerged, wielding the power of the dark side of the Force. They called themselves the Sith. And for tens of thousands of years they have fought to dominate the galaxy. Each time, we Jedi have been there to stop them. This last time, however, we were not so lucky. We lost and we lost hard. Our entire order is all but destroyed. The survivors are either like me, very lucky, or their power is so great they can hide from the Empire. There is rumor still of younglings and Jedi who weren't powerful enough to fight the war surviving on the Outer Rim. I have met none. So now I devote myself to destroying the Empire."
"That sounds like some of the history of our kind as well," Ron said, "dark wizards trying to dominate the world and enslave muggles."
"Yes, your sister mentioned one Lord Voldemort."
Ron shuddered, involuntarily, at the mention of the wizard who had devastated much of their world. "I still have trouble with that name."
"Here, people have come to fear another name: Darth Vader. He was once a Jedi, but later became a Sith, under his master, the Emperor. With his help, the Empire has continued to hunt down and exterminate Jedi and other Force-users."
"So that they would be the only ones left? Don't they realize how pointless that would be?" Ron was beginning to feel comfortable now. Magical lineage was not his area of expertise by a long shot, but at least it was something he could talk about without feeling useless. "Even if he destroyed every witch and wizard in the world, Voldemort couldn't have stopped magic from coming back. Eventually muggleborns would discover their magic and some might even learn to use it."
"A fair point, young man, but in this case, I think that if we take care, we can avoid such a tragic fate. But we digress from the topic at hand. Now, magic as you know it seems to be your people's way of manifesting the Force. It is strange, to me, to see the abilities you describe take a form visible to us, but I have heard of many other traditions of the Force exhibiting physical manifestations of the Force. Perhaps you could learn both ways."
"What did Ginny say?"
"You must come to a decision on your own. She has made her choice and that matter is closed. To properly train one in the use of the Force, they must want it. It cannot be decided under a group consensus. I believe that is one of the factors that led to the Council's downfall. As such, any Jedi I might train must want to become a Jedi, and not have the decision forced upon them."
Ron thought in silence for a long time, going over the options in his mind. If what Kota said was true, about the three of them being able to use this Force, then it might give them the edge to save Harry. In fact, if the Emperor or even this Darth Vader had him, he had a feeling they would need all the help they could get.
"What happens if I don't want to be trained?" Ron asked.
His question must have caught the old blind man off guard, because Kota gave a start and snorted. He shook his head and looked around, like he was trying to figure out where Ron was.
"Wuzzat?" he slurred, and he shook his head again.
Ron couldn't believe it. The old geezer had fallen asleep! He repeated his question.
"Nothing, right now. You'll serve in the combat unit and when we finally get sorted, I'll have you assigned as a sort of bodyguard to your sister and your friend, if she wishes to train. I do promise I'll keep you together. But as your abilities progress, you may be prone to instances of accidental Force-using, which may attract the attention of the Emperor's minions. Darth Vader isn't the only dark-sider in the Emperor's service."
Ron groaned and ran his hands down his face. This was like underage magic all over again. Why did all this mess have to happen to them?
"So really, I don't actually have a choice. I have to train, either to use this Force, or to stop myself from accidentally using it and bringing down all manner of hell on my head." Ron was starting to like Kota less and less.
"No, you do have a choice. You have many choices. But most of those possible choices are rather poor. Just because you don't like all the choices doesn't mean you don't have a choice."
"Well, I guess I'm in. I will train to become a Jedi, whatever that is."
"Then I accept you as my Padawan learner. From hence, you will address me as Master, except in public. There you will refer to me as either General, or if we are not in an Alliance friendly area, you will call me Uncle. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"Very good, my Padawan. Sills should be in either the holoroom or he may have gone down to the cargo hold. Go to him and continue your lesson on blasters."
"Yes, Master." Ron was wondering if he would become a broken painting soon, repeating one phrase again and again. He left the main hold on his errand.
New Horizon, Kithhip Spaceport, Shimia, 1100 hours galactic standard
Amita, Sharra and Hermione had reached the New Horizon without complication. With little Imperial presence on the little island port, there was almost no point in maintaining a watch beyond posting one of the other squad members in the bay itself.
On the way back, Amita and Sharra had chatted like old friends catching up, and Hermione was beginning to suspect they were. She decided that the questions, however, would be better suited when it was only them and the ship.
Now, as they arrived, they found General Kota waiting at the top of the boarding ramp. Amita and Sharra saluted, Hermione following their example quickly. He motioned them inside.
"Sir, Imperial presence minimal, we shouldn't have much trouble," Amita reported as soon as the ramp shut, "and the local cell have been contacted."
"Very good, Private," Kota nodded, then turned towards Sharra," and who is our guest?"
Sharra answered, "Lieutenant Sharra Ilyaden, commander second platoon, 59th Ranger regiment. My squads and I have set up shop on several islands on this planet."
Kota stepped forward, interested, "General Rahm Kota, Rebel Alliance. You said Rangers? As in, the Antarian Rangers? You're a bit outside your usual sectors, aren't you?"
"We're branching out, sir. Word around is that several younglings who survived the Purge are beginning to show up on Palpatine's scanners. We're trying to get to them first."
"I hate to pull you off your mission, but I have two, possibly three trainees and little more than a fireteam to protect them. Could you spare some of your people to assist us? We need to rendezvous with what remains of my company."
"How long do you think you'll need? I can spare some of my people, but the other side of our mission is gathering intel about what the Empire is manufacturing here. The weapons plants just started up about a year ago."
"I see," Kota smirked at the remark, "well, even a few extra guns would help. It's only for a few weeks at most. Do they have a way of getting back?"
"We've got a couple old Y-wing fighters. They can fly escort for you."
"Certainly. How long until you can have them ready to leave?"
"I'll have them here in three hours."
New Horizon, Kithhip Spaceport, Shimia, 1400 hours galactic standard
True to her word, the fighters had contacted Kota with their locations and readiness to launch. In that time he had discussed with Hermione the possibility of training as a Jedi as well. She had welcomed the idea, but was concerned her previous magical education would interfere.
"As a colleague of mine once said, 'you must unlearn what you have learned'." Kota said with a slight smile.
"Pretty straight forward, that. From what I've read, Jedi are more mysterious." Hermione replied, slightly confused.
"Oh, believe me, with Master Yoda, nothing is ever straight forward. Always a hidden meaning, though you may not realize it at the time."
A short preflight check and they were on their way again. The fighters drew up alongside the shuttle's flanks and slaved their navicomputers to Lynpa'sik's control station. Soon they were all shooting down the tunnel of hyperspace.
Ok, so, the end of chapter 4. Some reviews would be nice. And as for the long break in between, well, writer's block. That's my story I'm sticking to it.
