Chapter 1: The spy of Cato Neimoidia.
Harry Potter looked at the Veil of Death with contempt. He had been tasked by his boss to validate an insane research theory: the Archway of the Veil of Death could be a way to other destinations than death.
Every once in a while, his job required some odd theories to be validated or invalidated. Harry, having the most raw magical power among his colleagues, earned more than his share of strange tests to conduct. He was pretty sure his raw power was the main reason, if not the only reason, he had been hired as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries right after the war.
It happened in a weirdly normal way. After the battle of Hogwarts, Harry went back to school to get his Newts, his mind set on becoming an auror. Then, Reality kicked in: he had chased dark wizards all his life, had been on the breaks of death way to many times, and actually died once! A somewhat normal school year made him realise he wanted something else.
So when Director Croaker offered him the job, Harry accepted without expecting much. Little did he knew that he would enjoy studying magic so much as long as he was not nagged by one Hermione Granger. Not that he would ever say it to her face. Not that he would actually see her face soon. Hermione, Ron and he barely catch up anymore since his best friends married three years ago.
For the last four years, Harry had become quiet the expert in magical runes and their application. Even though he never studied it at Hogwarts, he just had a knack for it. Which was the reason he was assigned this particular piece of research. A fellow Unspeakable theorised that the runes on either side of the Archway could be altered to change the destination of the Veil.
Of course Harry thought it was crazy. He could hear the whispers from the dead emanating from the Veil. They all knew that stepping through the Veil meant dying on the spot. Harry himself had witnessed it after his Godfather, Sirius Black, was pushed through it.
And yet it was not the weirdest theory he had to test since he worked here.
So he set to work. It took him three hours and two coffee breaks before he found anything useful. One of the runes on the Archway looked vaguely like the Aramean rune for Afterlife. An annoying thought crossed his minds: perhaps this crazy theory made sense.
Harry run an advanced diagnostic spell on this rune, as was standard procedure. Standard procedure, however, never accounted for the Aramean rune of Death reacting to the magic from the Master of Death.
Without warning, the Veil brightened and started to glow deep blue. Harry barely registered he could no longer hear the voices from the dead when he felt pulled forcefully threw the Veil and lost consciousness.
Harry woke up groggily. His head was killing him. He was laying on the floor of what appeared to be a small yellow-stoned cavern.
As his memories came back to him, he realised he had gone through the Veil. Was he dead? It did NOT feel like it did the last time.
He stood-up slowly and looked around. A bright daylight was coming from the other hand of the little cavern. The cavern was as mundane as could be. No sign of the Archway either.
He mechanically used a tempus charmed only to have it fail. He never missed that spell before. He tried again. Only to fail, again. He tried other spells: lumos, accio, cutting spells, diagnostic spells... All were working fine, if perhaps stronger than usual. Albeit, his magic felt stronger, more alive than it used to. But it might be because his mind was not clear enough after whatever the Veil did to him.
Harry moved toward the light and exited the cavern. It turned out he was high on a lonely mountain overlooking some bizarre and massive town below. He was not in London anymore. Definitively a muggle town based on the weird planes flying around. Harry did not recall seeing this kind of plane in muggle world before. And, since graduating, he had become too much of a tech afficionado to miss it.
Harry walked the downward trail to the town, still searching for any clue as to where he was. He walked for several hours until sunset when he arrived, exhausted, to a plane graveyard. Except the planes were looking more like spaceships than planes. Dirty, broken, rusty, huge spaceships!
Some doubt started to crawl his way to the back of his mind: was he still on Earth?
Thanks to many near-death experiences, and one actual death, Harry stayed calm and kept moving forward. His magic started to feel more alive again, it was pushing him toward the side of an enormous 200-meters-long egg-shaped ship. He was pondering which diagnostic spell to use when he heard someone moaning in pain.
It took him a few moments to find the entrance of the ship from which the sound came from. The interior was dusty and moist from some leaking fluid in the wall. He followed the sound down a couple of corridors until he found the source: a tall dark-skinned man with an eyepatch on his left eye. He was wounded on his right leg and burnt on his left shoulder but his right arm still held fiercely some kind of futuristic gun. He was sweating bullets, probably because of the fever his wounds had caused him. The man was clearly going in and out of consciousness by now. Soon it would be loo late to save him.
Harry reacted on instinct, waving his phoenix wand in a series of basic healing spells. He had never really studied healing. Just the few common spells Hermione taught him during their year on the run. After several minutes, his patient was still collapsing. He needed something stronger.
It did not take long for Harry to decide. He called the Elder Wand to him.
The Death Stick. The same wand he had broken in front of his friends after the Battle of Hogwarts. The wand that come back to him the very next day, with the stone and the cloak. With time, Harry understood that he truly was the master of the deathly hollows. What it really meant, he had no idea. The only thing he knew for sure was that the hollows were linked to him now. No matter what, they would come at his call.
As always, Harry's spell with the Elder Wand were spectacularly more powerful. The hole in the man's leg was closed in seconds, and the burn on his shoulder started healing. A few minutes later, diagnostic spell confirm his feeling: the man was out of danger.
Harry breathed a few moments to clear his mind and get his priorities straight. He needed a dry and cover space for the night. He search the ship until he found what looked like a cockpit. It was the ideal strategic hideout for the night. High above the ground, hidden from view with a clear line of sight. Thankfully, some tactical instincts never faded after the war. Harry quickly moved the injured man to the cockpit with a few waves of his wand. He then setup some rune-based wards to ensure they were safe, or at least warned from any danger. After that, a few warming and cushioning charms went a long way into giving the clinical cockpit a cosy feeling to spend the nigh.
Once satisfied with his surroundings, and after checking his patient status one more time, Harry made a quick inventory of his belongings.
He still wore his large brown linen Unspeakable cloak. The standard Unspeakable cloak was charmed for resistance, protection, warmth, comfort and notice-me-not. It would be a big comfort for the night.
Harry then looked into his mokeskin pouch. Hagrid's gift had never left him ever since his seventeen birthday. And ever since the war, Harry made a point to keep it filled with a fully-stocked wizard tent, change of clothes, a few useful potions and enough food supplies to last a whole year. Because from past experiences, you never knew when you would be undesirable number 1 again. The pouch also hold the last books he borrowed from the library in Department of Mysteries: the "bible" of magical theory as Croacker deemed it, two massive tomes about magical rune construct, his specialty, and of course, his research notebooks, every Unspeakable faithful companion. How he wished he had packed his broom. It would have been so helpful.
Well at least the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak could always be called upon if he ever needed any of them; that should be enough to get him back home.
Harry silently ate a few snacks from his reserves and then made sure his mokeskin pouch was secured around his neck and the Unspeakable cloak around his shoulders. The young wizard check on the injured man one last time and applied an alarm in case the man start to wake up. He then tried to rest, sitting on the floor with the back to the wall.
He slept on and off for the next hours, between his worry about his situation, the status of his patient or the strange mechanical sounds he could hear from the town. He was warned with the first light of the day that the man was finally starting to wake up.
"Hello. I am Harry. Can you understand me?"
The man immediately went for his gun, only to realise it was out of reach. Harry slowly pointed to the cockpit station where the weapon laid.
"Your weapon is over there, but you don't need if for now. Can you understand me?"
Through only one eye could be seen because of the man's eyepatch, Harry could see the calculating look the man gave him. He immediately recognise military training and hardened battle experience.
"Yes I can understand you" reply the man with a strange accent. "I am Gregar Typho."
"Nice to meet you Gregar. My name is Harry Potter. I found you nearly dead last evening and patch you up as much as I could."
"Thank you, master Jedi."
"Eh?"
Gregar frowned. "Are you not a Jedi?"
"Why do you think I'm one?"
"Nobody but Jedi were these type of cloak. And my injuries were to grave for me to be mostly healed within one night. I assumed you used Jedi tricks to heal me?"
"Sure, let's go with that!"
The man frowned harder this time. He had not like his non-committed answer. Something in Harry's mind yelled 'intelligence officer'. Did he figure out Harry was not a Jedi, whatever that was?
"Thank you then, for healing me, Master Jedi."
The man went to stand up, but pain seemed to make him falter toward the cockpit station. Harry quickly understood the man's plan and silently disarmed him the second he reached for his gun. As usual with his signature disarming spell, the weapon flew around the room, straight to his waiting hand.
"Sit down!"
The man complied, albeit with obvious pain while doing so. He was definitely a soldier and used to the pain. Harry could relate to that.
"I will be honest with you, Gregary Typho. I am not a Jedi, whatever that is. I woke up yesterday in a cavern in the mountain with no idea how I ended here. I did however saved you, so I would appreciate if you could help me in return by telling me where we are?"
The man clearly didn't believe him but played along nonetheless. "We are on Cato Neimoidia, in the Quellor Sector."
"And where is that?"
"In the colonies territories of the galaxy" came the dull reply.
Galaxy? Harry realised. "Wait a minute, Cato Neimoidia is a planet?!"
"Of course, what did you think it was! A cantina!?"
That is when it really sucked in. The spaceships, the odd looking town, the weird feeling with his magics, the failure of a tempus charm, the slightly different weight of gravity. He was not on Earth anymore. He was on a different planet!
"Have you ever heard of the planet Earth, in the Sol system?"
"Doesn't ring a bell. Why? Is it where you're from?"
"Yes. But back home, we barely made it past our moon" Harry answered more for himself than for the man.
"You expect me to believe you come from a pre-spaceflight world but you somehow ended on the capital planet of the Trade Federation and were able to heal me in hours while it should have taken weeks?"
"Yes?"
That man looked at him critically. Harry could almost hear him wonder if he were crazy or brilliant in his way to hold interrogations.
"I assume you are not welcome on this world then?" Harry resumed. That caused Gregar to tense immediately.
"Oh please" Harry continued "You were not injured falling down stairs!"
Harry waited for Gregar to answer.
"It would indeed be best if I could leave this planet soon."
"What is this planet anyway?"
Gregar Typho explained to him that the Trade Federation were a very powerful Galactical Trade Conglomerate, powerful enough to have a seat in the Galactic Republic or organized full invasion of worlds. Harry nearly freaked out with everything Gregar explained. He was not a matter a few worlds, he had stepped into a whole galaxy full of worlds and species capable of spaceflight and galactic scale war. With robot armies. And wizard sounding Jedi knights that fight with laser swords and do magic tricks. This was like discovering the wizarding world all over again, only a thousand time bigger.
From the discussion with Typho, Harry guessed that he was local to a planet recently invaded by this Trade Federation. Although Typho tried not to sound so vindicative toward the Federation, probably to not blow his cover, Harry clearly understand the man's opinion about the Federation. Whatever colourful version Typho drew up, Harry was sure this planet was not very hospitable to a strayed wizard figuring out where he was. However, helping someone he suspected to be an intelligence officer could provide him with access to information he might need to figure his way home.
After an hour of intense questions and answers back and forth, Harry let the still recovering Gregar to rest while he prepare them something hot to eat from his reserves. At least he did not need to hide magic anymore. Harry felt again this weird push from his magic. As always, he went with his instincts: he would trust Gregar.
Gregar did not believe Harry Potter's story but he was at least sure he did not work for the Federation. Which made him an ally of sort. For now.
"So, how do we get off this planet?" Harry asked while they ate some tasty food from his homeworld.
"My ship is… not available for now." It should be heavily guarded by now.
"Are any of this ship here salvageable?"
Typho had not though of that. It had potential. The Neimoidian were very flashy by nature: they need to show their personal success. That tends to increase consumption of shiny new ships and disregard former models fairly quicky. They did not even bother to recycle them or sent them to a salvage yard.
"We might find something here, but it is called a ship graveyard for a reason" he finally replied.
"How about the ship we are in now?"
"No, the hull has been pierced in multiple places, it would never hold a jump to hyperspace."
"Alright then, and how about this one?" Harry said while pointing the ship they could see right in front of them from the cockpit. It was a broken YT-1930, a light cargo ship. It was 40 meters long, round shaped with two mandible encircling the cockpit. One of Corellian engineers' best work and a huge commercial success for the past decades. Although this one had seen better days.
"The left mandible is beyond repair. And see the tear in the cockpit? It is not pressurised anymore. This ship could not even leave atmo."
"You mean this tear?" Harry asked while waving his hand toward the ship.
Gregar's remaining eye went wide. Did he just repair the cockpit with a wave of his hand? None on the Jedi that helped on the battle of Naboo were able to do that! This mysterious man needed to be brought back to Naboo. General Panaka would know what to do with him.
"Do you think your Jedi tricks could also repair the broken mandible."
"Let's try it!"
He stay stunned while the mandible seemed to reattached itself on his own. He had never heard of a Jedi that powerful. Both men slowly went to inspect the ship, with Gregar still limping from his leg injury. The dark-skinned man could clearly see that Harry was enjoying the ship view from the outside. He looked like a kid ready to open a present. Gregar hoped Harry could fly it because he was still in no shape to do it on his own.
They had to force the boarding ramp down to enter the ship but Typho was relieved at what he discovered inside. The ship had the classic 2 crew cabins on the left with fresher units and one large lounge area with a technical station near-by. It had two large cargo bays on the rear of the ship and a very small medical bay. It was all very dusty and dirty but he could not spot any structural damage.
Gregar went to the newly re-pressurized cockpit to look at the navi-computer while Harry kept looking lovingly at the ship.
"You had good instincts, wizard-Jedi, the ship still as some power units left. It won't do the Kessel Run anytime soon, but it will hold multiple hyperspace jumps."
"I have no idea what that meant" said Harry as he entered the cockpit "but I trust you."
"Do you not know how to fly this thing?"
"I suppose there isn't a notice somewhere? Not that it would help me, I don't even know how to read the writings on this screen, let alone use one of this navi-computer thingy."
Typho had not thought of that. Was a really from a pre-spaceflight world? How come he could be this trained with the Jedi arts and yet not know how to fly a light cargo ship?
'You know, these ships usually have a neural interface in med bay. We should check it up."
Typho left the cockpit to reach the rear of the ship but stopped as soon as he was back in the common area. Where everything was dirty, messy, and moist moments before, it was now completely clean. And it smelt fresh. As if a cleaning droid crew had done its work to the perfection. Everything felt new.
"How did you clean in here so fast?"
Harry just gave him a wicked grin that Typho had to return. He started to really like this guy!
"You're sure you are not a Jedi, Harry?"
"Magic, Gregar, Magic! Now, where's that neural thingy?"
Of all the strange experiences Harry had lived, downloading an entire language straight to his brain in less than an hour was the most perplexing. It was discomfortingly simple: all you had to do was wear a grey helmet with a dark occulting vizor and it happened. Typho had informed him that a human brain could not bear more than twenty to thirty uploads, but that still opened a whole new world of possibilities to the young wizard.
He spent the next few hours learning galactic basic - the common written language - and then basic spaceship engineering. It changed Harry whole experience of the ship, or modified YT-1930 light cargo as he now understood the ship classification. The training knowledge he downloaded into his brain was far from making him an astute mechanic, but it was enough that he could understand and use sublight engines, hyperdrive, shield deflector, gravity generator and other basic system functions of any ship.
Harry did not sleep that night. He check up on the still recovering Gregar Typho that had claim a bunk in the 3-beds-cabin, letting Harry what appears to be the captain cabin. But, after learning about basic computer and spaceship working, Harry went to work.
His knowledge of space engineering was too little for now to make any improvement. However everything in this ship more or less worked with power unit cells, and contrary to electricity which explodes with the tiniest of magic, power unit cells mixed very well with magic. Harry was so happy! For years now he had tried, and failed, to mix muggle technologies with magic. Partly because he loved the challenge to accomplish something no other wizard did before – other than surviving two killing curses of course – partly because he thought that if wizards could enjoy some of the wonders of muggle society, they could open their mind a little and stop stagnating. The rampant stagnation in the wizarding world had been Harry's greatest frustration ever since the end of the war. He only took one year for conservative pureblood law to be pushed forward again, and three year later, everything was the same as before the war. Harry was sick of it.
So Harry loved the opportunity this ship provided. According to the ship's log, it used to belong to a now-dead spice smuggler that had crossed the Federation at the cost of his life. Apparently smuggling spices in this galaxy was dangerous, illegal, and so very lucrative. How weird! Anyway, no demand to expect from the former owner, so Harry could hopefully experiment on the ship as he wanted, once he would be sure it was safe enough.
It took a hundred or so of Elder-Wand-enhanced reparo and cleaning charms and within hours the ship looked as good as new. He even fixed the paint job on the outside hull, discovering a nice light grey colour with dark blue stripes that he instantly liked. He now really wanted to take it for a spin, but with Gregar's health and fugitive status, it was bast to lay low for now.
So Harry spent the next hours familiarizing with the ship's control and discovered the HoloNet, a sort of galactic network for all sort of information. He was fascinated by what he learn. They were thousands of inhabited worlds out there, rallied together in a huge democratic republic that spanned two thirds of the galaxy. So many species, so many stories. Harry first checked the Planet he was on, and specifically the Trade Federation. He did not like what he learned. Seven years ago, the Federation had invaded a planet called Naboo, on the Mid Rim territories to protest some kind of law. Who invades a planet to protest a law!? The invasion failed thanks to Queen Amidala's prompt reaction. And the Queen government was not letting it go. Viceroy Gunray's fourth trial in the supreme court was imminent now, but suspicions of corruption were high again.
From the HoloNet, Harry deduced that Gregar Typho was a spy for the Naboo system and that his mission probably involved retrieving key evidences for the coming trial. Well, more reason to help the one-eyed-spy.
"Found your planet yet?" asked Typho as he walk in the lounge area, the limp mostly gone. Magic was so cool.
"I could not find any mention in the charts. "
"Sorry to hear that. You might have better luck in the public archives."
"Maybe. On the bright side, I learned how to use the HoloNet. It seems the Trade Federation are no gentlemen. Do you think there are some proof around here about there invasion of Naboo?"
Typho looked at him critically. "You know about Naboo now?"
"Checked it on the HoloNet. And I am pretty sure YOU are from Naboo on a mission to find some clue for the trials." Subtlety had never been his forte.
"I don't know what you are talking about" came the mechanic denial.
"That's a shame, because I could easily sneak you back into town to complete you're mission if that were the case."
"And why would you help me?"
Harry smiled. He trusted the Naboo. Based on what he learned, he was much more likely to received help from Naboo's government than a corporatist world, especially if he help them. And his magic kept pushing him in this direction.
It took a very long conversation but Harry convinced Typho about his reasons to help. Ultimately, they made a deal: Harry would help Typho complete his mission and return to Naboo, and in exchange Naboo would shelter Harry and help him found his way back to Earth.
Apparently, Gregar had found the information he was looking for, but he had not been able to leave the planet with it yet. He claimed it was safely stashed near his ship docking spot in the local spaceport. Unfortunately, his cover was blown up and the whole city was under heavy surveillance, particularly around his ship.
"What if I could turn you invisible?"
"You can do that!?"
A plan was quickly devised to sneak Gregar into town with Harry's invisibility cloak, which amazed Gregar even more if possible. Then they would find a quiet way around the spaceport and retrieve the data stick Gregar had hidden, and then come back here to escape with their ship.
"We need to make the ship ready for departure then. Won't we need fuel for the trip?"
"Yes. Most of the ships in there would have the bare fuel reserves to make their last trip."
"So we can assume that all the ships here still have the bare minimum reserve, right?"
"Yes. But if you are you thinking of syphoning the fuel from every ship to fuel this one, that would not work. We would need special equipment for that."
"Ah! But you forgot: Magic is my friend. I assume the bigger one would have the most reserve, right?"
Gregar Typho could only stare dumbfounded as Harry ripped off the fuel reservoirs from five successive cruisers, brought them floating in the air near their ship and management to delicately transfer the fuel into their ship's reservoir. All within an hour. Their ship was now fully loaded. And Harry rejoiced in Typho's incredulity!
They made a system checklist and confirmed that the ship was good to go.
Their escape plan now ready, they prepare to head into town to retrieve the data stick.
"You plan to keep that cloak?"
Harry looked down at his brown unspeakable cloak.
"What is wrong with my cloak? I've check on the HoloNet, people wear stranger clothes around here!"
"That cloak screams Jedi. It would draw to much attention."
Harry shrug but did not fight it. He remove his cloak and put in on the bench in the lounge area. Typho looked him up and down. Harry had kept the habit of dressing muggle beneath his cloak: his colleagues always made fun of his dark jeans, sneakers, white shirt and brown blazer style.
"You are definitely not a Jedi" was all Typho said before offboarding the ship.
"That's what I kept telling you! Wait, what's the problem with my clothes?"
Harry run after the man but did not press the issue further. He was too much eager to discover this alien city. Although, from what he read on the HoloNet, he was the alien here. Harry was truly amazed at what he saw. They first crossed a quiet middle-class residential neighbourhood. Out of the alien people walking by, many were Neimoidian, or the outlandish architecture, it felt like Private Drive. Only people were showing off there brand new speeder instead of their latest car.
The true wonder started when the reached a business street. At first sight, everything felt the same as Diagon Alley: people entering shops, looking around and carrying their purchase. However, Harry could barely keep himself from grinning in front of multi-species interactions, weird looking products on stalls. How he would love to have Pureblood supremacist or even the Dursley witness all of it. They would have a heart attack.
Harry and Typho progressed as quickly as they could with Typho under the invisibility cloak.
"My ship is parked in the space sport of this district. It's two block down that road".
Harry kept walking toward the indicated direction. Fifty meters later, Typho appear next to him as if he had always been there. Harry was really surprised to see him withdraw the cloak but try to remain neutral. Nobody had noticed a guy appearing out of nowhere.
"Why did you removed the cloak. I thought they were looking for you".
"Crowd is getting larger. The cloak would be too hard to manoeuvre"
"Fair enough". Yet Harry felt there was something more to it.
They kept moving forward for a few minutes. The street was now an open market with shops and stands on every side. Gregar suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him to a nearby stand. All the while looking over their shoulders to where some armed droid patrol was passing by, he started to negotiate with the business man in a language Harry could not understand. The seller was a Neimoidian with a sombrero looking hat. Harry pretended to look at the items in front of him but was mainly focused on watching his surroundings.
The patrol finished passing by and Typho concluded his deal. He gave the man some republic credit and then pocketed the strange grey orb the vendor retrieved from under his desk.
"I'll explain latter. The seller told me the droid have been patrolling every street for the last two days"
"Something to do with your previous work I imagine?" Harry asked neutrally
"Probably" Typho grinned. "Let's try to get on a roof to get a better view".
Gregar led them to a back alley on there left. Harry realised the building had some kind a fire escape ladder they could use. It only took them a few minutes to get to the roof. From there, they could see the spaceport one street down.
"Do you seen the red chaser, on the second ring port from the left"
"Yes. Nice ship, very shiny! Yours?"
"Yes. Had to pay high price for it, but it was needed for my cover. With the number of droids patrolling, they expect me too make a run for it."
"Good thing it's not the plan. Were is your hiding spot"
Typho simply pointed to the bar right across the entrance of the spaceport.
"Well, at least we don't have to go through the port entrance"
Typho smiled while studying the surroundings of the bar. "Come on, there is a back entrance".
They quickly descended back to the alley and merged into the growing crowded until the back-alley of the bar. There was indeed an entry that was fortunately not locked. Both men entered with caution.
The bar was dingy at best. A dozen rounded tables were spread around the room, only two occupied by lonely workers. A long bar stretched from the entrance to the back of the bar where a dirty kitchen could be seen. Harry followed Gregar's lead and went to sit at the counter. Surprisingly, the bartender was a forty-year-old human woman. She had long purple hair and was covered of tattoos. She quickly put two glasses in front of them without asking.
"How dare you come back here, Greg'. You know how hot it has been around here since your last showdown?" she quietly hissed to not be overheard.
"Good to see you too, Kalye" Typho answered as if she had not been rude to them. "Do you have it?"
"Yes yes!" She looked around to confirmed nobody was watching and then reached a bottle below the counter. She unscrew the bottom of the bottle and a little silver cylinder fell on the counter.
"It's everything I was able to find about it. I hope it will be enough".
Gregar let out a breath he had been holding. Harry had the impression he was half expecting to not retrieve anything from this bar.
"Thank you". Gregar drank his glass bottom's up and the cylinder quickly disappear in his pocket. "How much for the drinks"
"Twenty credits".
Harry had not figure out how the currency was working yet, but he was pretty sure Gregar had put Twenty thousands credits on the counter. Said credits also quickly disappear in the barista's pocket.
"See you soon then"
"Not to soon" she growled.
Harry gulped his drink, which tasted a savoury mix of blended whisky and exotic fruit, and both men stood up, ready to leave. Unfortunately, the front doors of the bar opened and a dozen droids entered, their arm pointing on the bar's patrons.
"Mandatory identity control, Please stand still" came the hight pitched noise of the leader.
Before Harry or Gregar could move, a droid was near them and began scanning.
Gregar was slowly reaching for his gun. Harry understood they were in for some trouble.
"Eh. The fugitive is detected. Eh. Kill him"
"Roger Roger"
Harry was quicker to react than anyone. His wand burst in his hand and wave toward the droid in on smooth motion. The droid went crashing into two other droids. As the remaining droids were taking aim, Harry instinctively launch the most power shield he could muster. Seconds later, his blue protego was assailed with green blasters. Each blaster impact shook his arm badly, but the shield held.
"He's got a Jedi helping him! Send reinforcement! Send Reinforcement!" said the panicking voice a droid.
Typho draw his own blaster and quickly disposed of two more droids, including the one that seemed to be the leader.
Harry knew he could not hold his shield for ever.
"Gregar, behind the counter".
As if on cue, Gregar jumped above the counter and fell behind it, Harry on its tail. Both men quickly got up to shot some covering fire as they made way toward the kitchen. The few staff members, including Kalye, were all kneeling down, hands over their head, hoping for the combat to stop soon. Gregar lead Harry toward a door at the back. The emerged on another back-alley were a droid battle group was taking aim.
Acting on instinct, Harry fire three successive explosion spells followed by the transfiguration of a nearby container into a steel wall.
"We need to go back to the ship. Gregar, grab my hand".
Recognising the tone of battle hardened warrior, Gregar obeyed without complying.
Seconds later, they were standing in the lounge area of their ship, in the graveyard. Gregar fell to his knees and threw up his last meal.
"What was that? How are we here?"
"It's called apparition, magical way of going from one place to another in seconds. First time is always hard on the stomach." Harry answered the shocked Naboo while cleaning Gregar's last meal leftovers on the floor with a casual wave of his wand. "Can we leave this planet yet?"
Without waiting for an answer, Harry took place in the cockpit and initiated the launch sequence. Boarding ramp sealed, shield deflector up, engines on. He was going to love this!
"Do you actually know how to fly this thing" asked a still green looking Typho as he took the co-pilot seat.
"Don't worry, I have a good feeling about this!" Harry grinned. He loved flying. With his quick training from last night and his natural skill at flying, he instinctively knew what to do. Within seconds, the ship lifted off as if it had not been stranded for the last years. Magic was so cool. Harry loved the sound and feel of those engines. Was that true love?
"Ok, looks like you know what you are doing, Harry"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Can you start on the hyperspace calculation?"
As they started to ascend in sky of Cato Neimoidia, a call was heard on the radio. "Attention YT-1930, you are not authorised for take off. Please proceed to landing zone and shut down you engines".
"I assume we won't be doing that" Harry half asked.
"No we are not. But they would have sent fighters to intercept us".
As if on cue, Harry heard a beep on the radar.
"Droid starfighters, coming in hot from our 10" Gregar announced.
"Let's see what this baby can do. Keep working on this hyperspace jump!"
Harry pushed the ship as hard as he could and they reach the upper atmosphere before the fighters could catch up to them. He should have felt at awe for reaching space and overlooking a planet from his own eyes, but the situation did not allow him to break focus.
The first shots from the starfighters flew past them and Harry immediately launched into evasive manoeuvres. He rolled, spined, dodged. He knew they had nobody manning the gun turret, so his only way to get through this predicament was to evade their pursuers long enough to jump into hyperspace. It felt like quidditch, chasing down the snitch under heavy blunder fire! He loved it. Sure this time was deadlier than usual, but only barely.
"I didn't know this ship could do that". Was Gregar looking greener?
"How are these calculation going?" Harry responded, intent on keeping the spy focused on his task for now.
"Just a few second now, go for vector 3.3.5"
Harry took a couple seconds to understand but he figured Gregar gave him a direction in space. He re-directed the ship toward the indicated position, while keeping with his evasive moves. Seconds felt like hours as the enemy shots grew closer and more dangerous. Harry had never flew to this intensely before, much less on anything other than a broom. He kept his focus sharp and trusted his instincts. Until finally…
"Ok it's ready. Punch it"
Harry activated the hyperspace drive, and the next moment, the ship jumped into hyperspace.