Oh, look I'm back for another chapter! I should have another one up soon cuz it's break and I'm pumped (and not going anywhere for a week!)
Yay. Anyway, I don't own Star Wars, read, review.
Though Obi-Wan had been piloting ships for most of his life, flying always managed to shake him. He didn't know if it was because he could never seem to fly peacefully or because it was just a few sheets of metal between him and endless, dark space.
He squinted through the blight flash of laser blasts as he piloted his Starfighter towards the Fireshadows' large, ominous, black starship. The War Eagles, a special clone unit designed primarily for flying, swerved around him in complicated maneuvers.
"Nearing the control ship, sir," one of the clones reported through the gravelly radio. "I'll take some men with me and we'll try to break through the shields. Maybe we can sink it or get inside."
Obi-Wan resisted the urge to smile at the ambitious plans of this clone. He knew Anakin worked the same way, creating plans he could never go through with. Although, Anakin had a knack for always winning in the end.
He answered in a cautious warning, "Those shields are strong. I suggest working on the shields first, and then worry about the ship later."
"But, sir, you do realize," the clone answered with a hint of friendly sarcasm in his voice. "The shields are part of the ship."
"I know, I know," Obi-Wan scoffed. "Just do as I say for now."
He saw the ship the clone was piloting dart forward towards the shield generators on top of the disk-shaped ship with a few more clone fighters behind him.
"We've got company," another clone, Typhus, warned.
"Why're those ships bright orange?" another clone asked.
Obi-Wan squinted harder, locating the small band of orange ships barreling towards the fleet from the Fireshadow ship. These were odd Starfighters indeed!
They were shaped like ships, pointed with long double wings. Obi-Wan could clearly see the bulk of the pilot's cockpit. As the ships neared, the Jedi realized they were unmanned.
"What the hell?" Obi-Wan cried.
"Sir, these aren't ships. It's….." the clone's nervous voice was drowned out and Obi-Wan saw the rush of fire in the shape of a starship engulf the clone's fighter.
"The shields are down, sir, and there's no way these things will ever work again," a clone reported smugly.
"We've got bigger problems, Lucky," Obi-Wan said grimly. His heart beat faster when he saw about thirty more of the fire ships appear and begin to race towards them.
"Holy Angel of Iego!" Lucky sputtered. "I vote retreat! Our weapons are useless against fire!"
"All clone units, retreat. Repeat, all clone units, retreat," Obi-Wan ordered.
A mass of ships surged back towards Coruscant, with the evil flaming ships right on their tails. A few of the clones fell prey to the hungry blasts.
Obi-Wan held his breath as Coruscant came closer and closer. He knew that if they made it through the atmosphere, they'd survive. But ships were going down all around him and it wouldn't be long before one of the ships from hell caught up to his Starfighter.
"How many are left?" Obi-Wan asked in a pleading tone.
"You, me, maybe ten more. Mind you, sir, this is out of twenty three War Eagles," came the response.
"Almost to the atmosphere," Obi-Wan reminded the survivors. A few more angry fire ships engulfed the clones.
"Make that seven more, sir."
Obi-Wan's ship rumbled as it broke through the atmosphere, "Made it!"
"You and me both, sir. I count five survivors, not including you and me."
He craned his neck to make sure none of the fire ships had made it through. When he saw none, he began to relax and slowly make the descent.
His ship rumbled in sudden anger and Obi-Wan could feel immense heat surging all around him. Angry orange light danced into the cockpit.
"Eject, General!" Lucky cried. "Eject!"
"I hate space travel!" Obi-Wan yelled as the slammed his fist on the console. The cockpit door flew open and the cool air of the high atmosphere whooshed towards him.
He shot up into the air and began to fall, images of Starfighters blurring as he rocketed downwards. He could almost hear Lucky's worried, accented voice instructing, "Open your parachute, sir!"
Obi-Wan strapped the parachute he was holding on and released the parachute, jerking his fall backwards and slowing himself down. He breathed a sigh of relief. He would make it yet!
As Coruscant came into better view, he saw where he was falling into. In all of Coruscant, only one small, dying forest stood, a mistake amongst the forest of building all around it. It was an accident, really. One of the factories in the Works had engineered a growth formula for gardeners and had mistakenly created a forest in the center of the factory district.
A cry of shock escaped Obi-Wan's lips, of all the places in the entire planet, he would land in the trees! He tried to steer himself to somewhere else, anywhere else, but to no avail.
The tops limbs of a few trees tore at his boots and then he was falling through the trees, the jagged sticks tearing at him. His parachute gave out from all the holes and he fell faster. A thick, sharp branch bit at his face, and then he blacked out.
HHHHHH
Ahsoka paced back and forth in her room, with her head down and her stride fast. She didn't know what was bothering her so much; the Skywalker twins were alive, Obi-Wan was taking care of the Fireshadows (Ahsoka hoped, though it hadn't been confirmed or denied yet), and Anakin was awake.
"Good evening, boss," Galen's loud, door-banging entrance startled her and shook her from her grave thoughts.
"Hey, Galen. How are you doing?"
"Just fine, peachy, marvelous, actually," the former Sith stated excitedly. "This is the first night I've had off in a while."
This was true. Being the youngest and fiercest Jedi ever since Anakin had become Jedi Relations Master and Obi-Wan had gotten his leg injured, they were assigned the toughest and longest missions. It had been so long since Ahsoka had spent a night in her apartment that dust was collecting and the food she'd bought not long before the mission to Yavin IV was spoiling.
"I know. We should celebrate. I think Anakin's got some Jawa Juice hidden somewhere," she suggested sneakily.
"I like the way you think, boss," Galen smirked playfully. He put an arm around her shoulders, a gesture she'd seen Anakin perform with Padme` countless times, and they walked off towards Anakin's office.
HHHHHH
"….up, Lord Regus will not approve!"
"Aw, relax, Sweald. We just did a good deed, karma will have to repay us now," the second voice said.
"Karma has absoloutely nothing to do with this!" Sweald cried. "Oh my, it's waking up."
"It's not an 'it', it's a he and I've seen him before."
Obi-Wan could hardly see, with all the blood caked around his eyes and preventing them from opening fully.
"Oh, hey, Sweald, pass me that," the second voice ordered.
"What? This, Plius?"
"Yeah, that," Plius said.
A cool, refreshing cascade of water poured onto his face, washing away most of the blood and sending his senses back in working order.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" Plius cried happily.
"What in Yoda's name happened?" Obi-Wan coughed out in a hoarse, rugged voice.
"We'll explain on the way," Plius assured him, pulling Obi-Wan up off the bed and onto his feet. "But you're a Jedi, and I know Regus would like a look at you!"
They hurried down a small, dark corridor and stopped at a pair of metal, soot-covered doors.
"He's right through those doors, Master Jedi, just go right in and behave!" Sweald ordered.
Obi-Wan arched his back straight and attempted to walk without his nagging limp. The doors flew open and revealed the factory's main processing line.
Instead of machines whirring and working, musicians were playing and food was being served by little droids with plates attached to their heads. A white-haired man sat on a hastily created throne in the center of the room. All around him, people were dancing and fanning him. Attendants were hurrying around and tough-looking pilots and smugglers (Obi-Wan assumed) were drinking in various corners of the room.
"Stop the music, stop playing, you buffoons!" Sweald cried, hurrying forward towards the man on the throne.
After he bowed deeply, Sweald announced, "In the court of Lord Zarlo Regus, King of Space, Leader of the Smuggler's Union, Conqueror of the Works, Savior of the Ewoks, I do present, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Negotiator, and Council Member."
"Well, send him forward then!" the man, whom Obi-Wan assumed was Regus, cried.
Obi-Wan hurried forward, bowed deeply, and said, "I'm grateful for the help you have given me."
Regus, despite his white hair, was no older than Anakin. His hair was short, but his bangs covered his blazing blue eyes.
"And I, you," Regus smiled. "I've heard great things about you. And I know it was you that began negotiations about these factories. It's not going so well for us."
"May I ask why?"
"The factory bosses have control of most of the factories. We were lucky to obtain this one. It looks like they'll win this war, and we'll be stuck working for them again," Regus sighed.
Obi-Wan plucked at his beard thoughtfully, "You all seem like very good pilots."
"Indeed we are. Some of the best in the galaxy, actually."
"Well, if you help me defeat the Fireshadow ship above Coruscant, I'll arrange for the old Jedi Work Corps factory on the mountain moon of Aurumain to be handed over to you."
"Deal, my friend, deal!" Regus shook his hand roughly.
"Good. I'll need to return to the Temple to sort this out, but I'll be back soon and we can take flight."
After bowing once more, Obi-Wan hurried out of the Works and started towards the Temple. Looking into the sky, he saw the outline of the Fireshadow starship.
Beware you Sith from hell, he thought gravely. Your time here is numbered.