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Star Wars: Shattered Dreams
Chapter six: Uncovering Plight
by Dave Ziegler
Oceans. Dasney was a planet resplendent in oceans. Along the way
a few land masses cropped up here and there to damage its impeccable,
gleaming surface. Never for much distance though. So when colonists of
the Old Republic found themselves shivering in Dasney's mists, with
barely enough land to settle their starships upon, the need to adapt to
an oceanic life became apparent.
And so the engineers began to work. After much labor, ingenuity,
and time, they succeeded in constructing a complicated series of
underwater cities that allowed them to harvest the delicate plant life
that flourished at the ocean's floor.
Now firmly in control of a spring board, the colonists and their
succeeding generations managed to make Dasney into a viable, profit
producing planet with a stable core to its planetary government.
Admission into the Republic was an achievement celebrated with much pomp
and glamour.
Then the Empire came. Initially refusing to accept the rule of
Palpatine, the people of Dasney found themselves the recipients of a
planetary bombardment. Turbolasers sliced through the oceans, burning
away the sea as they forced their way deeper, and eventually struck the
ocean floor. The constant pummeling weakened the earth, causing massive
shifts of the plates and all but wiped out their precious crops.
Within a day Dasney accepted Palpatine's leadership and Imperial
occupation. The planet and people were never the same again. Without
its cash crops Dasney fell rapidly into bankruptcy, and the surviving
members of its society became greedy and desperate. Those placed into
positions of power by the Imperial military hoarded any of the wealth
produced by the remaining farmers and the newly founded weapons
factories constructed by the Empire.
With the rise of the New Republic, Dasney found itself in a
position for some respite. With the help of the Mon Calamari and their
intimate knowledge of life in concert with the oceans, the people were
able to bring their cities from the fractured ocean floor to the water's
surface. Money and resources were spent in the construction of immense
farming platforms which successfully reproduced the conditions found at
the ocean's floor so that their crops, a fading species, could be
rejuvenated. The planet once again attained financial and political
independence. It was a change for the better. The people, however, did
not.
Unable to shake the specter of the Empire and years spent in ruin,
the people buried themselves deeper in the mire of greed and
acquisition. Immense planetary defense platforms were built to protect
their assets, so that the people could rest easily knowing they'd never
have to fear loss again.
* * *
The spaceflight seal released with a sharp hiss allowing the
canopy to smoothly separate from the X-wing's hull. Anakin Solo
disengaged the flight harness and hauled himself over the side of the
cockpit and onto the waiting ladder. Jets of exhaust spilled from the
vents of the starfighter, filling the already dim landing bay with a
murky haze.
Anakin slid down the last few rungs of the ladder and began to
look about. The bay was empty, from what he could make out, save for a
few racks of tools and a row of fuel canisters. Several rows of
glowstrips ran through the ceiling, but only a few seemed to actually
operate. A cool breeze flew through the bay causing him to shiver.
Artoo had since pushed himself up and out of the interface socket
and was warbling for his master to attend to him. The landing bay
seemed ill prepared to deal with starfighters requiring astromech
insertion. "Just hang on, Artoo," Anakin called, "there's someone
coming." A sharp series of whistles let Anakin know what the droid
thought of taking a second chair to what could be no more than a
maintenance official.
A tall shadow moved deliberately through the smoke. He could not
recognize the individual's presence, but neither did Anakin sense any
menace. Finally emerging was a Mon Calamari dressed in a rough hewn
jumpsuit. The aquatic alien eyed him warily. "Greetings," the Mon Cal
addressed Anakin. "I am told wookies tend to pull people's arms out of
their sockets, is this true?"
"Only if they lose," Anakin responded. The Mon Cal's jaw dropped
in an approximation of a smile.
"Welcome to Dasney my friend. You are Anakin Solo?" he asked.
"I am. And that," Anakin said gesturing to atop the X-wing, "is
R2-D2."
"It is a delight to meet you, Anakin Solo. I am Eemar, your guide
and friend for however long you stay here on Dasney. Now, the docking
facility has been prepaid and told to leave us be, so we should have no
unexpected visits here. You however, Jedi Solo, are going to need a
change of attire. Once we depart, you will be about as subtle as a
wampa in the Jundland wastes, wearing a New Republic flight suit. And I
seem to remember being told that we need be as subtle as the whispering
stream."
Anakin seemed momentarily chagrined. "The only other clothing I
have and need are my robes," he offered. Eemar looked pensively at his
young charge.
"While I don't doubt your skill at concealing yourself Jedi Solo,
I would still consider the wearing of your traditional robes to be a
mistake. If you slip up once you would be instantly noticed. No, it
would be far more prudent if you were to don something else entirely.
Fortunately I am endowed with the gift of forethought," Eemar said and
threw Anakin a musty pack.
Anakin couldn't help but smile as he emptied the contents of the
pack onto the bay floor. "You've done this before, haven't you?" Eemar
feigned shock at the implication.
"Me? Of course not. Why, I'm only a diplomat, here to help
communication between the people of Dasney and the Mon Calamari. Such
work should be done by soldiers and spies, not the likes of me," he
protested in a gravely voice.
Anakin, with an ear to his contact, began to strip off his flight
suit and check the available clothing. The pack contained a tan tunic
and pants, simple boots, and a greying poncho. All of the articles
smelled of salt and fish.
"Why, I'd even venture to say that you, my young friend, have seen
more adventure and subterfuge in your short life than I have in all my
years. I have yet to even meet the great Ackbar, one the finest
military heroes of the rebellion and my people," Eemar continued.
Anakin wasn't too sure if he was thrilled with the Mon Cal's
theatrics, but he knew nonetheless that Eemar would execute his part of
the mission with professionalism and that his own back would be well
guarded. Just in case the premonition he had earlier returned.
"I must say, Jedi Solo, that I was completely taken aback to be
asked, through a channel of sorts, by the Chief of State to partake in
such an operation. I've been here quite sometime and nothing ever
caught my interest. At least nothing that would require an operation of
such a degree. It is rather impressive. How do you stealthy types keep
it up all the time?"
Artoo made a disgusted whistle, then proceeded to berate the Mon
Cal dignitary. Eemar looked questioningly at Anakin as he pulled the
tunic on. "What did he say?"
"I believe," Anakin grunted as he jammed his foot into one of the
boots, "the general gist of it was that nothing ever goes completely
right and you should well know that."
"Really?" Eemar seemed to be momentarily fascinated. "What a
delightfully insightful yet peculiarly delusional droid. He must be
very entertaining."
Artoo snorted.
"Artoo is very helpful and rather resourceful, as I'm sure you'll
get to see in the hours ahead," Anakin said by way of mollifying the
little astromech. "Do I have this right?" Anakin asked spreading his
arms to indicate the garb the he now wore.
"Absolutely. You look just like one of the farmers, and should
have no trouble blending in with us locals. Now if anyone asks, I am
taking you to the embassy as a representative of the Dasney farmers to
show you some of the newer methods we Mon Calamari use in oceanic
farming." Anakin nodded his acceptance of the information. "So Jedi
Solo, if you will just get your droid down from the fighter, I have a
wavespeeder waiting at the port for us."
* * *
Anakin had never seen so much water in his life. He could only
stand and watch, slack jawed, as the wavespeeder glided across its
surface sending plumes of salty liquid rushing past his face. Farther
than he could possibly see, the ocean continued on. It was amazing,
majestic... he wished Elle could see it.
Most of his life Anakin spent on either Coruscant or Yavin.
Between the Imperial Palace and the Jedi Academy. On Yavin, in the deep
jungles and intense heat, many of the residents sought relief in the
fresh springs, lakes, and rivers. It had become almost a nightly ritual
among the students. Nothing to compare to this though.
Then there was the capital. Everyone knew that anything natural
on Coruscant had long since disappeared under the vast array of
pavement, platforms, buildings, and ships. It felt to Anakin as if he
were standing amidst the antithesis of that world. One planet forged
by man, the other by nature.
"It is beautiful," Anakin breathed.
* * *
Eemar spared the boy a glance before righting his eyes forward.
He had had his doubts at first about his charge. He could hardly
believe this human, barely out of adolescence, was capable of what this
mission entailed, Jedi (supposedly) or not. He had of course been
assured that Solo was eminently qualified and perhaps the best choice
they could offer. Having now met the child Eemar had to admit he did
seem to have an aura of strength about him. Still, strength was not
everything.
"It is a fine display is it not," Eemar agreed readily. "I feel
that in receiving this posting I have far outreached my allotment of
luck in this life."
"It's so grand," Anakin began, "and yet something as simple as the
sea breeze sweeping across your face feels equally incredible. I've
never been anywhere that made me feel like this before."
Eemar nodded approvingly as his doubts faded like the waning rain.
The boy was keen of perception also, for not only did he appreciate the
finished canvas, but all the brushstrokes as well. Yes, Anakin Solo
would most definitely be acceptable.
"If this worlds strikes in you such sentiment, Jedi Solo, then may
I suggest that you visit my home world. For though this is indeed a
place of beauty and majesty, it cannot compare to the great oceans of
Calamari. They are truly one of this galaxy's great wonders."
"I will," Anakin vowed, "but not alone."
* * *
City-sector one was an enormous creation. Home to the government,
all of its affiliates, planetary embassies, and a few great corporations,
the artificial island stretched for nearly 2100 meters. The towering
buildings rose quickly into the air creating vast canyons which captured
the winding sea breezes, and their angular forms melded into a somewhat
chaotic yet pleasing geometric symphony. It was the crown jewel in
Dasney's network of cities.
Anakin ignored it all. The time for admiration and appreciation
had passed. A few quick, deep breathes settled the boy enough to search
for any sign of his earlier premonition.
There was nothing yet.
Eemar had been navigating the streets of city-sector one for some
time now, Anakin only a step behind. They had arrived at the docks a
few hours earlier and were able to ride one of the public skiffs a good
distance into the city. Since then though, Anakin found himself
plodding along by foot.
"Ambassador," Anakin began, remembering the role he was to play,
"may I inquire as to how much farther we have to travel?" He kept a
polite smile firmly in place, but inwardly groaned as Eemar bowed
deferentially to him, yet with great flourish.
"Your weary limbs need not fear my friend. Its not far now. Not
far at all. And I think you shall be very pleased with what I have to
show you." Eemar winked conspiratorially. "You shall be very pleased
indeed."
Anakin fervently hoped his aquatic acquaintance was speaking the
truth. Despite his best efforts he was becoming anxious.
Another standard hour passed before they finally reached the hall
of records. The closer they came, the less Eemar indulged his showy
persona and the more cautious he became. They ducked through several
alleys, backtracked, and circled the building itself three times for
good measure. The enemy had not followed them. Nor, it seemed, spotted
them.
A guard resplendent in a gold chest plate and helmet, and deep
blue uniform stood before the south entrance, his rifle held rigidly at
attention. He considered both Anakin and Eemar as they approached.
"I'm sorry Ambassador, the records are not available to the public
today," the guard said upon their arrival. Eemar was easily
identifiable in his robes of office.
"Really?" Eemar looked suitably baffled. "Why ever not?" It was
the guard's turn to look slightly taken aback.
"The hall is currently undergoing renovations, ambassador. Its
systems are quite outdated as I'm sure you'll agree." Anakin's lips
pressed together in concentration. He felt something.
"Well, they are outdated by some standards, but I personally think
they have quite a bit of charm," Eemar responded. "Have they already
stored all of the information? They would need quite a few vessels to
hold it all while the new equipment is being installed."
"I don't believe they have progressed to that point no,
Ambassador."
"Well then," Eemar said with an easy smile, "it shouldn't be much
of a problem if my friend and I go in and grab the information I need
before it is locked up." The Mon Cal strode toward the entrance but was
just as quickly stopped by the guard's outstretched arm.
"I'm afraid, Ambassador, that that is impossible. Now please go
about your business and don't make me restrain you."
"Wait," Anakin said stepping forward before Eemar could protest.
"It will be fine if we take just a quick look," he said making a small
gesture with his hand. The guard looked momentarily dazed, then snapped
back to attention.
"It will be fine if you take just a quick look," he repeated.
"Why thank you." Anakin executed a quick bow and walked past the
guard.
* * *
The entrance led to a small, dirty corridor. Its walls were no
more than two meters apart and each was pitted and scored. A light haze
of smoke drifted through the air, disturbed by the sudden inrush of wind
created by the opening of the door. Spatters of a dark, foul smelling
liquid stained the floor. Anakin glanced down the corridor suspiciously.
Nothing was right here.
"That was quite a trick you pulled back there," Eemar said
arriving behind Anakin. "Perhaps you could show me how it's done
sometime?" The Mon Cal grinned inanely.
"The man outside was not one of the guards. He was too nervous.
Too afraid of letting us in. I assume the hallway isn't always like
this?" Eemar turned suddenly serious and examined the corridor for
himself. His bulbous eyes narrowed to mere slits.
"No, not at all. This is an auxiliary chamber. It should break
off into the main hall only a few meters ahead of us." He paused,
recognition lighting his eyes. "Those marks there," Eemar said pointing
at the wall, "are most definitely blaster burns. It seems the enemy has
beaten us here."
"Yeah, I had guessed as much." Anakin shifted the poncho around
him uncomfortably. It could be cumbersome if this ended in a fight.
"The question is though, by how much?"
"You there! Halt!" a buzzing, artificial voice echoed down the
corridor. Running quickly toward their position were two lanky droids.
Each had a narrow bill shaped head, a skeletal body, and a blaster rifle
clutched between claw-like hands. "Hands up. Stand up," the droid
ordered.
Anakin nodded gently to Eemar, belaying any action on the part of
the ambassador. He turned and rose, placing his hands slowly to each
side of his head. Eemar followed suit. "War droids," he commented.
"They've been outlawed since before I was born."
"Yes, I was quite under the impression they had all long since
been destroyed," Eemar added.
"Cease speaking," the first droid spat. "Assessing potential
threat from prisoners." Both droids stood quiet for a second.
"Civilians. One farmer, one official. Possibility of danger is minimal
but present. Blast them."
Anakin's hand fell to his belt in a flash, pulling free his
lightsaber. A pulsing orange blade sprang from the hilt, and he
expertly deflected the first volley of shots. Chips of plascrete
exploded in miniature showers as the bolts impacted with the wall.
Thin streams of smoke lifted from the newly formed pocks adding to the
cloudy atmosphere.
After redirecting the last shot Anakin let the saber fall from
his hand. It tumbled, steadied, then flew forward and executed a smooth
flying arc. Smoke and sparks erupted as the blade severed the first
droid at the neck and the second at the waist. Anakin just as quickly
deactivated the blade when it came to rest back in his palm.
"Well done, Jedi Solo. I must say I'm impressed," Eemar stated
by way of congratulations.
"Don't celebrate quite yet," Anakin said, his voice a little
strained. "There is definitely further danger up ahead. Which means
either more droids or their masters."
"Or both," Eemar added. "But don't worry. This time I shall be
ready too," he said snatching one of the blaster rifles from the smoking
heaps.
* * *
"Sir?" Myx Wynor turned from the computer console, an eyebrow
cocked, ready to question why he had been disturbed from his work. It
wasn't easy creating and inputting a program which could both bypass the
security measures and selectively erase any and all mention of their
man. Frankly, Myx thought it would have been easier for them to use some
contacts to simply impound the data. Restrict access to it. The
populace probably wouldn't even notice. Nonetheless, Myx had his
orders.
"Yes, Captain?"
"I have lost contact with units two and three. It is possible
they have been destroyed," the captain buzzed.
Myx ran a stiff hand through greying hair. He had been
interrupted for this? These droids were much too jumpy for their own
good. The guards had been taken care of, and his men were posted
at each of the entrances with explicit orders. No one could get into
the hall now unless Myx wanted them to.
It was much more likely that the other two units had suffered
some form of transmitter failure. The war droids were ancient after
all. Decidedly ancient. They rightfully belonged in a trash compactor.
It would never be too soon for Myx to see the new and improved droids
rolling off the assembly lines. Then he wouldn't have to deal with
these archaic and thoughtless louts.
"Go and search their location then, Captain. Report back to me
whatever you find." Which won't be much I gather, Myx thought smugly.
Still, if it got them away from him for awhile he couldn't complain.
"Yes sir," the droid said. It spun smartly on a jutting heel and
addressed its two fellows. "Units five and six, you will accompany me."
"Roger. Roger," they chorused.
Myx winced as the procession of droids marched out of the records
room. He definitely could not wait for the new models.
* * *
Anakin and Eemar continued to make their way up the auxiliary
shaft. There had yet to be any further signs of droids, much less
whoever had brought them. "Artoo." The little droid whistled in
response, happy to finally be called upon. "Can you pick up anything
ahead of us?" Anakin asked.
Artoo paused for a moment, then emitted a short series of beeps
and whines. Anakin considered the message for a moment, then shook his
head. "Yeah, I have yet to sense anything either."
"We should keep moving then," Eemar began. "The most logical
place for the enemy to be positioned would be the records room in the
main hallway."
"Wait," Anakin snapped. The sound of metal slapping metal
suddenly echoed down the corridor. "Here they come," Anakin and Eemar
uttered in unison.
* * *
When at first the sound of blaster fire erupted Myx merely thought
the droids were being overeager and jumpy. Almost a full minute of
constant fire and three distinct explosions later, Myx became worried.
"Harg! Jezt!" he snapped. Myx's voice was rough with strain and
fear. He knew he shouldn't have agreed to taking on this project
himself. If any of them were to be caught... well, the people would
just not understand. Not to mention the Republic.
"Seal the door leading to the auxiliary chamber. I don't want
anything to get through. It should buy us enough time for me to finish
inputting the program. Then we can retire to safety."
"But what about the droids Mr. Wynor?" Jezt offered.
Myx continued to furiously work over the data terminal, no longer
even sparing a glance behind him for his partners. "The droids can
stay and be destroyed, or impounded. I don't care which. There's no
possible way for them to be connected to us. Each has been enhanced
with an automated memory wipe. Nothing will be left for the authorities
to discover, except for their remains. They will know nothing, and the
investigation will eventually be curtailed and pushed into obscurity."
Harg and Jezt, a pair of young, well built recruits, jogged
quickly over to the auxiliary doorway and slapped the control panel.
A sheet of transparisteel fell from the frame and neatly sealed itself
in place.
Myx gave a quick look toward the door, then snapped his head back
in surprise. "What the hell?" Transparisteel, as its name suggests,
was transparent steel substitute used on board starships for the
majority. On occasion it served as the windows for an important
government buildings in the hopes that its strength and durability would
help to lessen the success rate of assassination attempts. It was
unheard for it to be used as material for a door.
Suddenly Myx found himself staring back through the door at a
young, dark haired boy and a Mon Calamari. The Mon Cal raised a blaster
rifle and fire a quick series of shots into the door. Myx flinched
instinctively as sparks exploded from each of the impacts. But the door
held.
"Mister Wynor?" Harg questioned, his blaster drawn and aimed at
the door.
Sweat was beginning to pour generously from Myx's brow. The Mon
Cal and his friend had ceased their attempts to break through the door
momentarily. He didn't know who they were, but he was sure the lapse
wouldn't last.
"Just one more equation," Myx muttered. His finger tapped
relentlessly against his upper lip. "Just one more and the name Meecron
will be gone for good... Ha! Yes." He stabbed quickly at a series of
keys then punched a final one.
"Harg. Jezt. Let's get going." Myx set off quickly for the exit
on the far side of the hall. Overtaken by a bout of sudden curiosity
though, he turned to look back at what his two pursuers were doing. Myx
almost fell backward as a great orange blade leapt from a smooth
cylinder the boy had clasped in his hands. He plunged the blade forward
and it slipped easily through the barrier. A constant hissing filled
the hall as the transparisteel liquefied and fell to the floor in
spattered puddles.
Myx didn't wait any longer to see if the blade finished its
circular path. He threw himself through the door and jabbed the release
button sealing this one as well.
It took an effort on his part to keep himself from trembling, and
to calm his labored breathing. A moment later Myx was finally able to
pick himself up and look at both Harg and Jezt.
"Those two Mr. Wynor. They've seen our faces," Jezt said
worriedly.
"Yes, these doors are a damn impediment to the plan, aren't they?"
Jezt was right though, Myx knew. The Mon Cal and the boy had seen them.
He had stared straight back at the both of them. Then he
remembered the blade the boy had been carrying. Myx began to smile.
"Actually, I have an idea about that. One that may work very well.
Come on, let's move."
* * *
Anakin was the first into the record's room, launching himself
through the hole and landing in a neat tuck and roll. Eemar followed,
in a less acrobatic fashion, and opened the door for Artoo, who warbled
at the Mon Cal impatiently as he rolled in.
His lightsaber still held at the ready, Anakin quickly surveyed
the room. The three men had gone though. "You've spent a good portion
of time here Eemar, you didn't happen to recognize any of them?" Anakin
called over his shoulder, now heading for the computer.
"Not off hand, no," Eemar responded, joining Anakin and Artoo at
the main terminal. "But I will take a most astounding leap of deduction
and say that they were the enemy."
"Very likely," Anakin responded. "And I'm sure you'll be
surprised to know that the older man's thoughts dwelled on practically
one word those last few moments."
"And that word is?" Eemar inquired.
"A name. Meecron."
"Is that what we were to investigate here? Interesting."
"Unfortunately, Meecron is a name which no longer exists in any of
these records," Anakin said giving the terminal a quick shot with his
fist, his search having come up negative. "Any and all mention of it
has been completely erased."
Eemar considered their position carefully for a moment. "It would
seem then we have failed on both fronts. We could not retrieve the
information requested, and the enemy has now seen us and can deduce who
we are."
Anakin looked daggers at Eemar. "Thank you for putting that in
such a concise package! I know we failed! And we shouldn't have, I
should not have allowed it to..."
"Unless," Eemar interjected forcefully, "I have grown so very old
that my faculties have all but deserted me." Eemar couldn't help but
chuckle as Anakin's contorted face went from resounding anger and
annoyance to blatant confusion.
"Would you mind explaining that?" Artoo warbled in support of his
master.
"Well, as I said, unless I have lost all of my faculties I do
believe that Meecron is the name of our esteemed Senatorial
representative."
Anakin looked shocked for a moment, his composure only returning
as he dismissed the idea. "That's impossible. My mother would have
known if this person was a member of the senate. She would not have
bothered sending me here."
"Your mother, Jedi Solo," Eemar began patiently, "is the Chief of
State of the New Republic. A body which has grown exponentially in its
time. She deals with many senators, diplomats and attaches every day.
In fact the Senate itself is unnaturally huge. Dasney is a small world.
Unimportant in the grand scheme of things. She could not be expected
to remember the name of every senator, much less ours."
Anakin's face darkened as he considered Eemar's words and realized
he was making perfect sense. But if Eemar was right... A senator who
tampered with the official records on Coruscant. A senator who was a
blood relation to Gwynandra Salanon, and went to all lengths to hide
the fact. A senator who had access to war droids, and no qualms about
using them for murder.
Anakin needed to get to his mother. Soon.
To be Continued...
Star Wars: Shattered Dreams
Chapter six: Uncovering Plight
by Dave Ziegler
Oceans. Dasney was a planet resplendent in oceans. Along the way
a few land masses cropped up here and there to damage its impeccable,
gleaming surface. Never for much distance though. So when colonists of
the Old Republic found themselves shivering in Dasney's mists, with
barely enough land to settle their starships upon, the need to adapt to
an oceanic life became apparent.
And so the engineers began to work. After much labor, ingenuity,
and time, they succeeded in constructing a complicated series of
underwater cities that allowed them to harvest the delicate plant life
that flourished at the ocean's floor.
Now firmly in control of a spring board, the colonists and their
succeeding generations managed to make Dasney into a viable, profit
producing planet with a stable core to its planetary government.
Admission into the Republic was an achievement celebrated with much pomp
and glamour.
Then the Empire came. Initially refusing to accept the rule of
Palpatine, the people of Dasney found themselves the recipients of a
planetary bombardment. Turbolasers sliced through the oceans, burning
away the sea as they forced their way deeper, and eventually struck the
ocean floor. The constant pummeling weakened the earth, causing massive
shifts of the plates and all but wiped out their precious crops.
Within a day Dasney accepted Palpatine's leadership and Imperial
occupation. The planet and people were never the same again. Without
its cash crops Dasney fell rapidly into bankruptcy, and the surviving
members of its society became greedy and desperate. Those placed into
positions of power by the Imperial military hoarded any of the wealth
produced by the remaining farmers and the newly founded weapons
factories constructed by the Empire.
With the rise of the New Republic, Dasney found itself in a
position for some respite. With the help of the Mon Calamari and their
intimate knowledge of life in concert with the oceans, the people were
able to bring their cities from the fractured ocean floor to the water's
surface. Money and resources were spent in the construction of immense
farming platforms which successfully reproduced the conditions found at
the ocean's floor so that their crops, a fading species, could be
rejuvenated. The planet once again attained financial and political
independence. It was a change for the better. The people, however, did
not.
Unable to shake the specter of the Empire and years spent in ruin,
the people buried themselves deeper in the mire of greed and
acquisition. Immense planetary defense platforms were built to protect
their assets, so that the people could rest easily knowing they'd never
have to fear loss again.
* * *
The spaceflight seal released with a sharp hiss allowing the
canopy to smoothly separate from the X-wing's hull. Anakin Solo
disengaged the flight harness and hauled himself over the side of the
cockpit and onto the waiting ladder. Jets of exhaust spilled from the
vents of the starfighter, filling the already dim landing bay with a
murky haze.
Anakin slid down the last few rungs of the ladder and began to
look about. The bay was empty, from what he could make out, save for a
few racks of tools and a row of fuel canisters. Several rows of
glowstrips ran through the ceiling, but only a few seemed to actually
operate. A cool breeze flew through the bay causing him to shiver.
Artoo had since pushed himself up and out of the interface socket
and was warbling for his master to attend to him. The landing bay
seemed ill prepared to deal with starfighters requiring astromech
insertion. "Just hang on, Artoo," Anakin called, "there's someone
coming." A sharp series of whistles let Anakin know what the droid
thought of taking a second chair to what could be no more than a
maintenance official.
A tall shadow moved deliberately through the smoke. He could not
recognize the individual's presence, but neither did Anakin sense any
menace. Finally emerging was a Mon Calamari dressed in a rough hewn
jumpsuit. The aquatic alien eyed him warily. "Greetings," the Mon Cal
addressed Anakin. "I am told wookies tend to pull people's arms out of
their sockets, is this true?"
"Only if they lose," Anakin responded. The Mon Cal's jaw dropped
in an approximation of a smile.
"Welcome to Dasney my friend. You are Anakin Solo?" he asked.
"I am. And that," Anakin said gesturing to atop the X-wing, "is
R2-D2."
"It is a delight to meet you, Anakin Solo. I am Eemar, your guide
and friend for however long you stay here on Dasney. Now, the docking
facility has been prepaid and told to leave us be, so we should have no
unexpected visits here. You however, Jedi Solo, are going to need a
change of attire. Once we depart, you will be about as subtle as a
wampa in the Jundland wastes, wearing a New Republic flight suit. And I
seem to remember being told that we need be as subtle as the whispering
stream."
Anakin seemed momentarily chagrined. "The only other clothing I
have and need are my robes," he offered. Eemar looked pensively at his
young charge.
"While I don't doubt your skill at concealing yourself Jedi Solo,
I would still consider the wearing of your traditional robes to be a
mistake. If you slip up once you would be instantly noticed. No, it
would be far more prudent if you were to don something else entirely.
Fortunately I am endowed with the gift of forethought," Eemar said and
threw Anakin a musty pack.
Anakin couldn't help but smile as he emptied the contents of the
pack onto the bay floor. "You've done this before, haven't you?" Eemar
feigned shock at the implication.
"Me? Of course not. Why, I'm only a diplomat, here to help
communication between the people of Dasney and the Mon Calamari. Such
work should be done by soldiers and spies, not the likes of me," he
protested in a gravely voice.
Anakin, with an ear to his contact, began to strip off his flight
suit and check the available clothing. The pack contained a tan tunic
and pants, simple boots, and a greying poncho. All of the articles
smelled of salt and fish.
"Why, I'd even venture to say that you, my young friend, have seen
more adventure and subterfuge in your short life than I have in all my
years. I have yet to even meet the great Ackbar, one the finest
military heroes of the rebellion and my people," Eemar continued.
Anakin wasn't too sure if he was thrilled with the Mon Cal's
theatrics, but he knew nonetheless that Eemar would execute his part of
the mission with professionalism and that his own back would be well
guarded. Just in case the premonition he had earlier returned.
"I must say, Jedi Solo, that I was completely taken aback to be
asked, through a channel of sorts, by the Chief of State to partake in
such an operation. I've been here quite sometime and nothing ever
caught my interest. At least nothing that would require an operation of
such a degree. It is rather impressive. How do you stealthy types keep
it up all the time?"
Artoo made a disgusted whistle, then proceeded to berate the Mon
Cal dignitary. Eemar looked questioningly at Anakin as he pulled the
tunic on. "What did he say?"
"I believe," Anakin grunted as he jammed his foot into one of the
boots, "the general gist of it was that nothing ever goes completely
right and you should well know that."
"Really?" Eemar seemed to be momentarily fascinated. "What a
delightfully insightful yet peculiarly delusional droid. He must be
very entertaining."
Artoo snorted.
"Artoo is very helpful and rather resourceful, as I'm sure you'll
get to see in the hours ahead," Anakin said by way of mollifying the
little astromech. "Do I have this right?" Anakin asked spreading his
arms to indicate the garb the he now wore.
"Absolutely. You look just like one of the farmers, and should
have no trouble blending in with us locals. Now if anyone asks, I am
taking you to the embassy as a representative of the Dasney farmers to
show you some of the newer methods we Mon Calamari use in oceanic
farming." Anakin nodded his acceptance of the information. "So Jedi
Solo, if you will just get your droid down from the fighter, I have a
wavespeeder waiting at the port for us."
* * *
Anakin had never seen so much water in his life. He could only
stand and watch, slack jawed, as the wavespeeder glided across its
surface sending plumes of salty liquid rushing past his face. Farther
than he could possibly see, the ocean continued on. It was amazing,
majestic... he wished Elle could see it.
Most of his life Anakin spent on either Coruscant or Yavin.
Between the Imperial Palace and the Jedi Academy. On Yavin, in the deep
jungles and intense heat, many of the residents sought relief in the
fresh springs, lakes, and rivers. It had become almost a nightly ritual
among the students. Nothing to compare to this though.
Then there was the capital. Everyone knew that anything natural
on Coruscant had long since disappeared under the vast array of
pavement, platforms, buildings, and ships. It felt to Anakin as if he
were standing amidst the antithesis of that world. One planet forged
by man, the other by nature.
"It is beautiful," Anakin breathed.
* * *
Eemar spared the boy a glance before righting his eyes forward.
He had had his doubts at first about his charge. He could hardly
believe this human, barely out of adolescence, was capable of what this
mission entailed, Jedi (supposedly) or not. He had of course been
assured that Solo was eminently qualified and perhaps the best choice
they could offer. Having now met the child Eemar had to admit he did
seem to have an aura of strength about him. Still, strength was not
everything.
"It is a fine display is it not," Eemar agreed readily. "I feel
that in receiving this posting I have far outreached my allotment of
luck in this life."
"It's so grand," Anakin began, "and yet something as simple as the
sea breeze sweeping across your face feels equally incredible. I've
never been anywhere that made me feel like this before."
Eemar nodded approvingly as his doubts faded like the waning rain.
The boy was keen of perception also, for not only did he appreciate the
finished canvas, but all the brushstrokes as well. Yes, Anakin Solo
would most definitely be acceptable.
"If this worlds strikes in you such sentiment, Jedi Solo, then may
I suggest that you visit my home world. For though this is indeed a
place of beauty and majesty, it cannot compare to the great oceans of
Calamari. They are truly one of this galaxy's great wonders."
"I will," Anakin vowed, "but not alone."
* * *
City-sector one was an enormous creation. Home to the government,
all of its affiliates, planetary embassies, and a few great corporations,
the artificial island stretched for nearly 2100 meters. The towering
buildings rose quickly into the air creating vast canyons which captured
the winding sea breezes, and their angular forms melded into a somewhat
chaotic yet pleasing geometric symphony. It was the crown jewel in
Dasney's network of cities.
Anakin ignored it all. The time for admiration and appreciation
had passed. A few quick, deep breathes settled the boy enough to search
for any sign of his earlier premonition.
There was nothing yet.
Eemar had been navigating the streets of city-sector one for some
time now, Anakin only a step behind. They had arrived at the docks a
few hours earlier and were able to ride one of the public skiffs a good
distance into the city. Since then though, Anakin found himself
plodding along by foot.
"Ambassador," Anakin began, remembering the role he was to play,
"may I inquire as to how much farther we have to travel?" He kept a
polite smile firmly in place, but inwardly groaned as Eemar bowed
deferentially to him, yet with great flourish.
"Your weary limbs need not fear my friend. Its not far now. Not
far at all. And I think you shall be very pleased with what I have to
show you." Eemar winked conspiratorially. "You shall be very pleased
indeed."
Anakin fervently hoped his aquatic acquaintance was speaking the
truth. Despite his best efforts he was becoming anxious.
Another standard hour passed before they finally reached the hall
of records. The closer they came, the less Eemar indulged his showy
persona and the more cautious he became. They ducked through several
alleys, backtracked, and circled the building itself three times for
good measure. The enemy had not followed them. Nor, it seemed, spotted
them.
A guard resplendent in a gold chest plate and helmet, and deep
blue uniform stood before the south entrance, his rifle held rigidly at
attention. He considered both Anakin and Eemar as they approached.
"I'm sorry Ambassador, the records are not available to the public
today," the guard said upon their arrival. Eemar was easily
identifiable in his robes of office.
"Really?" Eemar looked suitably baffled. "Why ever not?" It was
the guard's turn to look slightly taken aback.
"The hall is currently undergoing renovations, ambassador. Its
systems are quite outdated as I'm sure you'll agree." Anakin's lips
pressed together in concentration. He felt something.
"Well, they are outdated by some standards, but I personally think
they have quite a bit of charm," Eemar responded. "Have they already
stored all of the information? They would need quite a few vessels to
hold it all while the new equipment is being installed."
"I don't believe they have progressed to that point no,
Ambassador."
"Well then," Eemar said with an easy smile, "it shouldn't be much
of a problem if my friend and I go in and grab the information I need
before it is locked up." The Mon Cal strode toward the entrance but was
just as quickly stopped by the guard's outstretched arm.
"I'm afraid, Ambassador, that that is impossible. Now please go
about your business and don't make me restrain you."
"Wait," Anakin said stepping forward before Eemar could protest.
"It will be fine if we take just a quick look," he said making a small
gesture with his hand. The guard looked momentarily dazed, then snapped
back to attention.
"It will be fine if you take just a quick look," he repeated.
"Why thank you." Anakin executed a quick bow and walked past the
guard.
* * *
The entrance led to a small, dirty corridor. Its walls were no
more than two meters apart and each was pitted and scored. A light haze
of smoke drifted through the air, disturbed by the sudden inrush of wind
created by the opening of the door. Spatters of a dark, foul smelling
liquid stained the floor. Anakin glanced down the corridor suspiciously.
Nothing was right here.
"That was quite a trick you pulled back there," Eemar said
arriving behind Anakin. "Perhaps you could show me how it's done
sometime?" The Mon Cal grinned inanely.
"The man outside was not one of the guards. He was too nervous.
Too afraid of letting us in. I assume the hallway isn't always like
this?" Eemar turned suddenly serious and examined the corridor for
himself. His bulbous eyes narrowed to mere slits.
"No, not at all. This is an auxiliary chamber. It should break
off into the main hall only a few meters ahead of us." He paused,
recognition lighting his eyes. "Those marks there," Eemar said pointing
at the wall, "are most definitely blaster burns. It seems the enemy has
beaten us here."
"Yeah, I had guessed as much." Anakin shifted the poncho around
him uncomfortably. It could be cumbersome if this ended in a fight.
"The question is though, by how much?"
"You there! Halt!" a buzzing, artificial voice echoed down the
corridor. Running quickly toward their position were two lanky droids.
Each had a narrow bill shaped head, a skeletal body, and a blaster rifle
clutched between claw-like hands. "Hands up. Stand up," the droid
ordered.
Anakin nodded gently to Eemar, belaying any action on the part of
the ambassador. He turned and rose, placing his hands slowly to each
side of his head. Eemar followed suit. "War droids," he commented.
"They've been outlawed since before I was born."
"Yes, I was quite under the impression they had all long since
been destroyed," Eemar added.
"Cease speaking," the first droid spat. "Assessing potential
threat from prisoners." Both droids stood quiet for a second.
"Civilians. One farmer, one official. Possibility of danger is minimal
but present. Blast them."
Anakin's hand fell to his belt in a flash, pulling free his
lightsaber. A pulsing orange blade sprang from the hilt, and he
expertly deflected the first volley of shots. Chips of plascrete
exploded in miniature showers as the bolts impacted with the wall.
Thin streams of smoke lifted from the newly formed pocks adding to the
cloudy atmosphere.
After redirecting the last shot Anakin let the saber fall from
his hand. It tumbled, steadied, then flew forward and executed a smooth
flying arc. Smoke and sparks erupted as the blade severed the first
droid at the neck and the second at the waist. Anakin just as quickly
deactivated the blade when it came to rest back in his palm.
"Well done, Jedi Solo. I must say I'm impressed," Eemar stated
by way of congratulations.
"Don't celebrate quite yet," Anakin said, his voice a little
strained. "There is definitely further danger up ahead. Which means
either more droids or their masters."
"Or both," Eemar added. "But don't worry. This time I shall be
ready too," he said snatching one of the blaster rifles from the smoking
heaps.
* * *
"Sir?" Myx Wynor turned from the computer console, an eyebrow
cocked, ready to question why he had been disturbed from his work. It
wasn't easy creating and inputting a program which could both bypass the
security measures and selectively erase any and all mention of their
man. Frankly, Myx thought it would have been easier for them to use some
contacts to simply impound the data. Restrict access to it. The
populace probably wouldn't even notice. Nonetheless, Myx had his
orders.
"Yes, Captain?"
"I have lost contact with units two and three. It is possible
they have been destroyed," the captain buzzed.
Myx ran a stiff hand through greying hair. He had been
interrupted for this? These droids were much too jumpy for their own
good. The guards had been taken care of, and his men were posted
at each of the entrances with explicit orders. No one could get into
the hall now unless Myx wanted them to.
It was much more likely that the other two units had suffered
some form of transmitter failure. The war droids were ancient after
all. Decidedly ancient. They rightfully belonged in a trash compactor.
It would never be too soon for Myx to see the new and improved droids
rolling off the assembly lines. Then he wouldn't have to deal with
these archaic and thoughtless louts.
"Go and search their location then, Captain. Report back to me
whatever you find." Which won't be much I gather, Myx thought smugly.
Still, if it got them away from him for awhile he couldn't complain.
"Yes sir," the droid said. It spun smartly on a jutting heel and
addressed its two fellows. "Units five and six, you will accompany me."
"Roger. Roger," they chorused.
Myx winced as the procession of droids marched out of the records
room. He definitely could not wait for the new models.
* * *
Anakin and Eemar continued to make their way up the auxiliary
shaft. There had yet to be any further signs of droids, much less
whoever had brought them. "Artoo." The little droid whistled in
response, happy to finally be called upon. "Can you pick up anything
ahead of us?" Anakin asked.
Artoo paused for a moment, then emitted a short series of beeps
and whines. Anakin considered the message for a moment, then shook his
head. "Yeah, I have yet to sense anything either."
"We should keep moving then," Eemar began. "The most logical
place for the enemy to be positioned would be the records room in the
main hallway."
"Wait," Anakin snapped. The sound of metal slapping metal
suddenly echoed down the corridor. "Here they come," Anakin and Eemar
uttered in unison.
* * *
When at first the sound of blaster fire erupted Myx merely thought
the droids were being overeager and jumpy. Almost a full minute of
constant fire and three distinct explosions later, Myx became worried.
"Harg! Jezt!" he snapped. Myx's voice was rough with strain and
fear. He knew he shouldn't have agreed to taking on this project
himself. If any of them were to be caught... well, the people would
just not understand. Not to mention the Republic.
"Seal the door leading to the auxiliary chamber. I don't want
anything to get through. It should buy us enough time for me to finish
inputting the program. Then we can retire to safety."
"But what about the droids Mr. Wynor?" Jezt offered.
Myx continued to furiously work over the data terminal, no longer
even sparing a glance behind him for his partners. "The droids can
stay and be destroyed, or impounded. I don't care which. There's no
possible way for them to be connected to us. Each has been enhanced
with an automated memory wipe. Nothing will be left for the authorities
to discover, except for their remains. They will know nothing, and the
investigation will eventually be curtailed and pushed into obscurity."
Harg and Jezt, a pair of young, well built recruits, jogged
quickly over to the auxiliary doorway and slapped the control panel.
A sheet of transparisteel fell from the frame and neatly sealed itself
in place.
Myx gave a quick look toward the door, then snapped his head back
in surprise. "What the hell?" Transparisteel, as its name suggests,
was transparent steel substitute used on board starships for the
majority. On occasion it served as the windows for an important
government buildings in the hopes that its strength and durability would
help to lessen the success rate of assassination attempts. It was
unheard for it to be used as material for a door.
Suddenly Myx found himself staring back through the door at a
young, dark haired boy and a Mon Calamari. The Mon Cal raised a blaster
rifle and fire a quick series of shots into the door. Myx flinched
instinctively as sparks exploded from each of the impacts. But the door
held.
"Mister Wynor?" Harg questioned, his blaster drawn and aimed at
the door.
Sweat was beginning to pour generously from Myx's brow. The Mon
Cal and his friend had ceased their attempts to break through the door
momentarily. He didn't know who they were, but he was sure the lapse
wouldn't last.
"Just one more equation," Myx muttered. His finger tapped
relentlessly against his upper lip. "Just one more and the name Meecron
will be gone for good... Ha! Yes." He stabbed quickly at a series of
keys then punched a final one.
"Harg. Jezt. Let's get going." Myx set off quickly for the exit
on the far side of the hall. Overtaken by a bout of sudden curiosity
though, he turned to look back at what his two pursuers were doing. Myx
almost fell backward as a great orange blade leapt from a smooth
cylinder the boy had clasped in his hands. He plunged the blade forward
and it slipped easily through the barrier. A constant hissing filled
the hall as the transparisteel liquefied and fell to the floor in
spattered puddles.
Myx didn't wait any longer to see if the blade finished its
circular path. He threw himself through the door and jabbed the release
button sealing this one as well.
It took an effort on his part to keep himself from trembling, and
to calm his labored breathing. A moment later Myx was finally able to
pick himself up and look at both Harg and Jezt.
"Those two Mr. Wynor. They've seen our faces," Jezt said
worriedly.
"Yes, these doors are a damn impediment to the plan, aren't they?"
Jezt was right though, Myx knew. The Mon Cal and the boy had seen them.
He had stared straight back at the both of them. Then he
remembered the blade the boy had been carrying. Myx began to smile.
"Actually, I have an idea about that. One that may work very well.
Come on, let's move."
* * *
Anakin was the first into the record's room, launching himself
through the hole and landing in a neat tuck and roll. Eemar followed,
in a less acrobatic fashion, and opened the door for Artoo, who warbled
at the Mon Cal impatiently as he rolled in.
His lightsaber still held at the ready, Anakin quickly surveyed
the room. The three men had gone though. "You've spent a good portion
of time here Eemar, you didn't happen to recognize any of them?" Anakin
called over his shoulder, now heading for the computer.
"Not off hand, no," Eemar responded, joining Anakin and Artoo at
the main terminal. "But I will take a most astounding leap of deduction
and say that they were the enemy."
"Very likely," Anakin responded. "And I'm sure you'll be
surprised to know that the older man's thoughts dwelled on practically
one word those last few moments."
"And that word is?" Eemar inquired.
"A name. Meecron."
"Is that what we were to investigate here? Interesting."
"Unfortunately, Meecron is a name which no longer exists in any of
these records," Anakin said giving the terminal a quick shot with his
fist, his search having come up negative. "Any and all mention of it
has been completely erased."
Eemar considered their position carefully for a moment. "It would
seem then we have failed on both fronts. We could not retrieve the
information requested, and the enemy has now seen us and can deduce who
we are."
Anakin looked daggers at Eemar. "Thank you for putting that in
such a concise package! I know we failed! And we shouldn't have, I
should not have allowed it to..."
"Unless," Eemar interjected forcefully, "I have grown so very old
that my faculties have all but deserted me." Eemar couldn't help but
chuckle as Anakin's contorted face went from resounding anger and
annoyance to blatant confusion.
"Would you mind explaining that?" Artoo warbled in support of his
master.
"Well, as I said, unless I have lost all of my faculties I do
believe that Meecron is the name of our esteemed Senatorial
representative."
Anakin looked shocked for a moment, his composure only returning
as he dismissed the idea. "That's impossible. My mother would have
known if this person was a member of the senate. She would not have
bothered sending me here."
"Your mother, Jedi Solo," Eemar began patiently, "is the Chief of
State of the New Republic. A body which has grown exponentially in its
time. She deals with many senators, diplomats and attaches every day.
In fact the Senate itself is unnaturally huge. Dasney is a small world.
Unimportant in the grand scheme of things. She could not be expected
to remember the name of every senator, much less ours."
Anakin's face darkened as he considered Eemar's words and realized
he was making perfect sense. But if Eemar was right... A senator who
tampered with the official records on Coruscant. A senator who was a
blood relation to Gwynandra Salanon, and went to all lengths to hide
the fact. A senator who had access to war droids, and no qualms about
using them for murder.
Anakin needed to get to his mother. Soon.
To be Continued...
