Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. Not me. Thanks much.

STAR WARS: Shattered Dreams
Chapter Eight: "To Sing a Song of Things Once Past"
by Dave Ziegler

Author's Notes: The very much delayed chapter 8 is finally here (large
sigh of relief on my part). I hope it does not disappoint. Various bits
and pieces of this chapter owe their existence to Tim Zahn's "The Hand of
Thrawn" series, "The Phantom Menace", the X-wing computer game, and "A Guide
to the Star Wars Universe." I'd just like to say a quick thanks for all
the help these sources provided.


With Eemar's practiced touch the wavespeeder decelerated smoothly
and fell neatly into one of the dilapidated ports of city-sector twenty.
Unlike many of the larger, more densely populated cities that sported
constant refurbishing and attention, number twenty was a solitary village
held together by rusty bolts and force of will. He thought it had been the
perfect place through which to smuggle Anakin onto Dasney. Never a casual
glance fell this far from the hub of commerce and life, and Eemar had always
found the people who inhabited these sort of cities to be decidedly less
enthusiastic about starting an uproar in their neighborhoods than any of the
big city dwellers.

A rust encased docking claw extended from the wall of the port and
forced itself upon the hull of the speeder. The small craft rocked steadily
as the claw pulled it toward the far side. Eemar glanced dubiously up at
roughly welded ladder that hung about a meter from their deck plating.
Perhaps number twenty was just a bit too far out of the way after all. It
wouldn't do at all if that aging ladder were to let loose while Jedi Solo
were climbing it, or for that matter himself too. "Well, every day's an
adventure," Eemar commented gamely. "Why not."

"What?" Anakin hoisted himself up the wall after the Mon Cal
dignitary.

"Oh, nothing. Just considering the rather woeful state of this
apparatus." Eemar ascended another few rungs.

"Not to be contrary or anything," Anakin began sarcastically, "but
it would seem to me that we have significantly more to worry about than the
condition of a single ladder."

"Of course Jedi Solo, of course. I agree completely." Eemar paused
a moment as Artoo floated up past him and onto the waiting planking above.
"I shall never become accustomed to that. In any case Jedi Solo, constant
gravity serves no purpose but to make someone entirely too dull for their
own good. Life is just not life without a spot of levity here and there to
keep the spirits lifted."

Eemar scrambled onto the planking, his ambassadorial robes snagging
momentarily upon the rough metal. He gave a quick, sharp tug and was
rewarded with the sound of tearing silk. "Drat." The split fabric hung
dejectedly in Eemar's hand. "I was becoming rather fond of this set."

"So I'll have the Republic compensate you," Anakin muttered and
swung himself onto the planking with a final heave.

"Jedi Solo, for someone in tune with the whole of life, you have a
certain failing when it comes to people's emotions. Perhaps you should
unlock your chest and explore sometime." A hearty laugh erupted from the
Mon Cal as Artoo bleeped in defense of his master.

Biting his lip in frustration with Eemar and his jibes, Anakin
composed a perfectly vicious retort and prepared to deliver it.

Then the sky exploded.

* * *


Anakin managed to lash an arm around the ladder as the shock
wave blew him back over the edge and into the port. His face and hands were
lightly scalded from the intense heat of the blast, and the muscles in his
back and shoulder loudly protested from having been used as an anchor in
the face of such a propellant. The deafening rush of wind and heat had
abated, so he cautiously righted himself and climbed stiffly back toward
the planking.

The metal was warm, and wore a new coat of soot and ash as Anakin
tumbled back on top of it. His only greeting was the heavy muzzle of a
blaster carbine and the smiling face of Myx Wynor. The hangar, only sixty
meters away, was now nothing more than a smartly flickering bon fire. "My
ship?" Anakin sighed, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, your ship," Myx confirmed. "Now, hand me your lightsaber
young Jedi. Heroics would not be in the best interest of you and your
friend."

* * *

"On your right, you may wish to make note of the only three
remaining Spaarti cloning cylinders retrieved from the Imperial's Mount
Tantis facility. I understand they are quite close to being restored to
working order too. Now, in this smaller case..."

Propelled alongside Eemar and Artoo, Anakin found himself turning
down yet another massive hallway. Arches fashioned of a dark odorous wood
vaulted into a deep ceiling every few meters, while the whitewashed walls
and marble floor sparkled to the point of distraction. Groups of fine glass
cases and shelving, endowed with anything and everything an archaeologist or
relic hunter could ever dream of, covered even the slightest hint of a
white and marble seam. In a somewhat more sporadic fashion, complete
sections of wall were missing only to be replaced in kind with a plate of
hefty transparisteel. These portals sealed away some of the larger and
eminently more valuable pieces of the collection he was suffering through,
much like the Spaarti cylinders they had just passed.

Anakin had given way to Wynor's demand for his lightsaber, not
because he doubted he possessed the strength and skill necessary to
extricate himself from such a situation, but because he could not account
for the safety of either of his friends. With such considerations in mind,
the only wise path open to him had been complicity.

Once Wynor and the rest of his thugs, Anakin thought the term
decidedly appropriate, had placed them in manacles, he, Eemar, and Artoo had
been herded onboard an enclosed speeder. The vehicle had lurched into a
sprint almost as soon as the doors had sealed.

The trip to this place, wherever it was, had been long, cramped, and
silent. Wynor and four of his men had accompanied them in the back of the
speeder, blasters constantly waving. Discussion of any kind was adamantly
discouraged. Anakin had not been able to help but note that a blaster
muzzle did wonders for Eemar's talkativeness. More than once, he was sure
he had felt the speeder transfer itself onto another vehicle. Most likely a
barge, the motion had a completely different feel to it and Anakin didn't
believe for a second that these people had a facility of this grandiosity on
such a small city-sector.

The guard escort hadn't diminished once the speeder arrived, nor
once they entered the collection for Wynor's rather lugubrious tour of the
artifacts. Anakin had yet to feel comfortable with attempting any sort of
an escape, especially now that he was out his lightsaber and had both hands
trapped behind his back. Not that the manacles would have been very
difficult to remove, but the situation just didn't feel right to him yet.
There was something missing, an event that needed to occur if he was to be
successful. A marker of sorts.

"The cases ahead of you contain some ancient Jedi relics. A few
lightsabers, cloaks, and data cards found on some of the more sparsely
populated rim worlds. They are estimated to be roughly Clone War era
technology."

"Excuse me," Anakin interrupted Myx's forced lecture. The boy
suddenly began to feel intensely cold, and spared the aforementioned case a
suspicious glance. "Do you think we could forgo the rest of the tour and
speak to your employer. I have a few questions I would like to ask him."

"I do not have employers, Jedi, I have superiors. You think my
dedication the result of money?" Myx snorted. "In any case, this tour was
requested by said superior, and I would hate to disappoint him."

"Oh, that's rather good then, I was finding all this quite
interesting," Eemar chimed, his adopted buoyancy and frivolity having long
since returned.

"So," Anakin began, taking a moment to stare down Eemar, "the
senator is quite a collector then? Very wealthy too I would think from the
look of this place."

"The Senator? Well yes, he does dabble often." Myx coughed in
exaggeration before continuing. "I wouldn't be too eager to meet anyone if
I were you though, Jedi. You might have a particularly long wait ahead of
you. Now, this case holds the last of the..."

As Anakin inwardly groaned and Eemar stood in idle fascination,
Artoo gazed through one of the portals that Wynor had passed over in his
expedition. A low, surprised whistle escaped from the droid, and he
immediately activated a holorecorder, preserving every step they moved away
from it.

* * *

"Well, I must say, they could have found something a bit larger to
imprison us in," Eemar dryly commented. He began to studiously examine the
walls of the cubic. . . closet was probably the best term with which to
describe it. The four walls could be no more than six feet from any of the
others. There really wasn't much else that could possibly be done with it
except storage.

Or imprisonment of course.

"Clean though, at least. The art of the host hasn't been totally
lost."

"The lack of dust isn't really going to help us much, Eemar," Anakin
said while studying Artoo's lifeless body. The guards and Wynor had forced
a restraining bolt upon the little droid when they had first dumped them in
the cell. Or whatever it was. Anakin still found it doubtful that anyone
would install a prison cell in the middle of their private collection. In
any case, the restraining bolt would not do Wynor much good, as he was,
after all, a Jedi.

With a minimum of effort Anakin encircled the bolt with a few Force
tendrils, then wrenched it from the droid's body. Artoo snapped back into
consciousness with a loud squawk and a few choice expletives. "Don't worry
Artoo, you were only under for a short while and they didn't do anything to
you. I was here the entire time," Anakin soothed.

"Complaining again is he? Does he do anything else?" Eemar was
continuing to stare at the wall, but was now moving across it, his hands
gliding along the surface. Artoo bleeped, irritated, but Eemar paid him no
mind. "By the way, that was another neat trick Jedi Solo. Think you can
do it again?"

Eemar had stopped moving, and was kneeling at the front left seam
of the walls. Anakin hunched over his shoulder, trying to see what the Mon
Cal was so intent upon. "And what would I be doing this to?"

"This access panel, of course."

"What access panel?" Anakin focused just past Eemar's extended
hand, but could still see nothing save wall.

"This one." Eemar traced a near invisible, rectangular seam.

"How were you able to pick that out?" Eemar simply tapped the side
of his head knowingly, then gestured for Anakin to do his part.

"Right." Anakin concentrated on the panel. It was like an island
amidst a sea of metal, small and listless. No matter how he turned or tried
he couldn't quite get a grip on it. Well, if he couldn't pull the panel out
perhaps he could push it. Instead of placing his focus on the area of metal
itself, Anakin looked past it.

A faint groan came from the inside the wall before the panel sprang
from its prison and clattered to a stop on the floor. "Well done, well
done," Eemar congratulated. "Now it is my turn."

He began to shift and search his robes, patting himself down and
grumbling until he finally removed a small black case. He swiftly removed
the lid and let a small pile of tools fall onto his lap. "It is truly
amazing what one can hide in these things," Eemar said patting his official
garb affectionately. "So much extra material."

"Do you think you can trigger the door's release?"

"Oh, I don't think it should be much of a problem," Eemar said,
leaning over the panel and inserting a slender lance. "The mechanism
shouldn't be too complicated. After all, we have been imprisoned in
someone's museum. I doubt this was originally intended to serve as a
prison."

Without warning, a bar shot out of the ceiling, barely missed
Eemar's shoulder, and impacted with the floor. Artoo screeched in terror,
and Eemar glanced woefully at the ceiling. "On the other hand, its original
purpose could be something entirely more sinister."

* * *

Myx watched the Jedi and his friend scramble to avoid a few further
pistons before switching the screen off. The boy might last longer than
the fish or the droid, but even he would succumb. He smiled in relief.
This was two more complications out of the way, which meant that there were
really only two or three loose ends that still needed to be dealt with.

"Anyone for some food?" Myx asked his companions. "I'm quite hungry
myself."

Both Harg and Jezt looked at one another somewhat baffled. "You
mean we're not going to make sure, Mr. Wynor?" Jezt questioned.

"Of course not. There is really no need. You see, that room is a
very ancient device. One of the crowning pieces of the collection as I
understand it, and dates back to the golden years of the Old Republic. It
was used chiefly by bounty hunters, pirates, and smugglers; anyone who had
the threat of the Jedi order looming over them.

"Somehow, the offending Jedi was captured or lured into the device,
then trapped. Once activated, the room will continue to fill with pistons
until there is no room left for the Jedi to evade them and he is then
crushed."

Harg and Jezt suddenly wore very large grins themselves. Such
simple things to please such simple minds. Still, the two men had proved
very useful in certain earlier encounters, so Myx could forgive their slight
sadistic streak. "Right," he complained. "Can we eat now?"

* * *

Their prison was near to halfway filled with the sporadically
burgeoning pistons, a new one shooting into existence about every thirty
seconds. Artoo wailed in terror and huddled close to the door as Eemar
rapidly played with a bevy of wires, very conscious of the thick and
menacing bar that hung suspended above his head.

When the pistons had started in earnest, Eemar had thrown himself
into his work with a fury and failed to noticed a piston pound out of the
ceiling above him. Anakin, every fiber of his being tense, alert, and
radiating with the Force, had managed to catch the offending cylinder about
a foot above the Mon Cal's head.

That had been close to two minutes ago. Now he was pressed against
the wall near Artoo, struggling to maintain his hold on the piston and give
his friend the time necessary to open the lock. It seemed to Anakin that
only divine providence itself had kept him from being crushed, as all his
concentration was now devoted to producing a counter force. He wouldn't
have noticed a piston from a pin drop.

"Are you almost there yet?" Anakin managed to force out, his jaw
clenched.

THUNK. Another piston fell. Anakin felt a soft breeze caress his
cheek. That had to have been closer than he would ever want to know.

THUNK. "Eemar!?"

"Just a second, just a second. I've a few more splices to make."

THUNK.

"Hurry up," Anakin grunted. The piston he was holding fell another
inch. It was just too large, too heavy; he couldn't hold it for much longer.

THUNK. Eemar grabbed two wires and held their stripped ends close
to one another. "May the currents flow in our favor," he muttered, then
touched the two together. There was a bright eruption of sparks, and the
door suddenly glided up.

Artoo shot from the room, plowing directly into one of the guards
Wynor had posted outside. The man stumbled backward taken completely by
surprise, and as his compatriot brought his blaster to bear on the little
droid, Eemar dove from the room. He rolled, came up on his heels, and
swiftly punched the guard in the diaphragm before a shot was fired. Seeing
the blaster loose in the guard's hand, Eemar wrenched it from his grasp, and
pulled off a quick shot dropping the man before he could recover.

The first guard, having regained his footing after colliding with
Artoo, managed one wide shot before Anakin, having finally ducked from the
room, propelled him with a quick Force-push into the opposite wall. Anakin
then fell to the floor, sweat and strain staining his face.

"Are you all right, Jedi Solo?" The boy looked pale and worn to
Eemar, as if he had been forced beneath the ocean's surface for too long a
time and was just now able to break free and draw a breath.

"I'm fine," Anakin panted. "Just need a moment to gather my
strength."

"Then by all means. . . but not for too long, though. It would be
to our advantage to keep moving and not give our enemies the opportunity to
locate and corner us."

* * *

"All right Artoo, plug in and see if you can't find us a way out of
here." Anakin gestured toward the computer terminal set within the wall
opposite him. It was nothing extravagant, just a few small panels and a
simple screen, and would have been no use to him whatsoever if it weren't
for the small data socket just below it. While it would have been
extraordinarily difficult for him to screen through all the stored
information offered, Artoo, using the socket, jack, and infinitely more
suited artificial mind, could cut a quick path through the extraneous bits,
and locate the floor plans with a minimum of delay.

The droid trundled forward and swiftly inserted the jack, all the
while beeping interestedly to himself. Both socket and jack began to spin
as Artoo sifted through the data. Eemar, meanwhile, glanced quickly back
and forth between each end of the immense hallway. He felt rather
vulnerable just sitting in the open like this, with nothing to defend
himself with. Since escaping, they hadn't stumbled upon any portion of the
museum that contained weapons, no matter how ancient they might be. He
keenly remembered how Wynor had made special note of the fact that most of
the artifacts had been studied and restored to operating order. Not that
the information had done them much good so far.

Artoo suddenly warbled excitedly and Eemar had no more time for
reflection. "What is it Artoo?" Anakin demanded of the squat droid. "Were
you able to find a route out of here?" Artoo spun his head round in an
emphatic no, then beeped again.

"You did what!?" Anakin cried. The droid repeated its earlier
comment.

"What is going on? What is the droid doing?" Eemar demanded.

"We already know that the Senator is related to this Gwynandra
Salanon, you do not need to jump systems and break into any encrypted files!"
Artoo snorted at Anakin. "Yes, I remember the battle droids, and we will
report their presence to the Republic and the Senate, but not if we don't
make it out of here alive!"

"Jedi Solo, I think you should have that droid's memory wiped. It
really is entirely to independent." Artoo squawked at Eemar before turning
to re-address Anakin in a more mild tone.

"I don't care if you think it's important, we need to leave!" The
droid simply turned back to the terminal and emitted a final condescending
beep.

"What is it doing now?" Eemar questioned.

"He's decided the potential information is too important, and is
going to start downloading the encrypted files for later translation."
Sirens began to suddenly blare throughout the cavernous hallway.

"I think, perhaps, that beginning a download of those files was a
poor course of action." The socket continued to spin as Artoo attempted to
wrench the data from it.

"Come on Artoo, hurry!" Anakin couldn't sense any life forms nearing
their position, but that didn't mean that Wynor wouldn't send more of those
battle droids. In any case, they were in definitive danger now, remaining
in this one spot.

Artoo finally gave one last mournful wail and removed his jack from
the data socket. He then spun about, extended his third leg and began to
trundle down the corridor, beeping back at his two companions.

"He says that the security system locked down the rest of the files
and prevented him from getting them. And that he knows of a way out of this
complex."

"Then by all means, Jedi Solo, let us follow your droid," Eemar said
and gestured for Anakin to take the lead.

* * *

Anakin stared through the great transparisteel section of wall. The
alarm had stopped about a minute ago, though he was sure they were still
searching for them, and the sight that greeted him did nothing to boost his
confidence any. "This is your way out?" he commented in disbelief. Past
the transparisteel lie a replica of a hangar bay, and inside that bay was a
starfighter. It's sloping yellow body, like the twin engines mounted to a
cross bar at its front, narrowed gradually as it progressed until finally
ending in a sharp point. The underbelly and engines were splashed with a
coat of shining silver paint, and a pronounced interface socket rose up
from the fuselage just behind the canopy. It was a sleek vessel, low and
smooth.

"I must say, that is quite a work of art," Eemar said. Anakin
lifted a sardonic eyebrow.

"Yeah, and how often does art fly?" Artoo bleeped at Anakin,
assuring him of the ship's capabilities. "Okay, Artoo. Okay. I believe
you. It really can fly. However, it looks like a starfighter to me, and
will probably have room for only one person. In which case, it is not a
viable means of escape for us."

Eemar stared at the ship for a moment, then past it. His eyes
roamed the hangar, until finally coming to rest on a small dip in the floor.
"There," he pointed through the transparisteel. "That dip in the floor.
That is our other way out."

"What are you talking about, Eemar?"

"That dip in the floor of the hangar, it is usually indicative of a
vent connecting to an air recycling system. Now, the air recycling system
is connected to both a central pump and several external vents. The pump
draws in air from the outside through these vents, thus keeping the air
within the building fresh.

"One of us, shall take the starfighter and use it to get back to the
Republic and inform them of what is happening. The other shall use the vent
to make his way to the outside of this place and escape into the city,"
Eemar concluded. Artoo beeped in support of the Mon Cal's plan.

"Fine." Anakin said. "Eemar, Artoo, you two will take the fighter
and alert the Republic. I'll use the vent and divert them long enough for
you to make your exit."

"Not that I wish to question your judgment Jedi Solo, but I believe
it is you who should take the fighter."

"Absolutely not," Anakin stated.

"Just a moment, just a moment. You haven't heard me out yet. Now,
as I understand it you've grown into quite a pilot. In fact, your abilities
are supposed to be of such a caliber that Colonel Horn has been consistently
interviewing you for a position within Rogue Squadron. On top of that, you
are a Jedi Knight. If anything happens to go wrong, I should think that the
Republic could do without me more so than you. After all, I am only a
bureaucrat."

Anakin stared at the annoyingly theatrically inclined man who had
somehow managed to become his friend over the past few days. He shook his
head. "No. You will pilot the fighter. No one here is more dispensable
than the other." Anakin was about to turn to search for a way past the
transparisteel and into the enclosure when Eemar bore down upon him.

"You will listen to me boy, Jedi or not. You will be the one inside
that fighter when it leaves, and you will be the one to escape. You will
get to back to Coruscant, and then travel the grand seas of Mon Calamari,
and view all their majesty with that person you seem to so yearn for. You
will live, you will see the future, and you will be happy. There will also
be no further discussion on the matter." With that Eemar strode past Anakin
and joined Artoo, who was already searching for a way into the hangar.

While his two companions set to work, Anakin pulled away from the
transparisteel and into a small copse of cases. He hadn't thought about
Elle in a while now. Tried not to would probably be more accurate, though.
Anakin had not wanted to lose his focus during the mission, because the more
he found himself indulging in such ridiculous thoughts of her, the more he
lost his sense of direction. It was almost as if the ground beneath his
feet was tilled and plowed, cleansed of any of his practices or beliefs, and
made ready for him to spontaneously plant an entirely new range of ideas
and emotions.

He had not thought much of his assignment as Elle's tutor at first.
Sure, she had been attractive, but Anakin had met attractive women before.
After the introductions had passed, he assumed it would be business as
usual. A task had been set before him by his master and it was his duty to
complete it. But lesson after lesson, day after day, she began to haunt
him. Images, thoughts, glancing feelings would crop up when he least
expected it, tripping him up and throwing off his concentration. Anakin had
drawn upon all his inner strength, of which he seemed to possess plenty, and
consciously forced these things to the bottom of his soul whenever they
dared to appear. But more and more often he found them coming back,
stronger than before and gaining more ground with each round of combat.

Maybe it was time to concede the fact that he was fighting a losing
battle. Maybe it was time for him to realize that he was really alone
because he was afraid, frightened of how these feelings affected him. He
was really two distinctly different people: Anakin Solo, the Jedi Knight,
and Anakin Solo, the boy. One was afraid to let anything distract him from
his structured path, while the other hated the intense loneliness and tried
savagely not to indulge in a heated jealousy of his brother and sister. It
wasn't hard to guess which half generally prevailed upon him.

Leave it to Eemar to dredge up such turmoil in a situation like
this. He would probably find it amusing, in a stingingly ironic sort of
way. Anakin hunched over a case and sighed in exhaustion. He couldn't
continue like this, being pulled in different directions. He would have to
face this once the situation with Jacen, Jaina, and the battle droids was
concluded. He would have to confront himself. . . and Elle.

As he picked himself up off the display case, Anakin noticed
something familiar glinting inside: a long smooth, silver cylinder. He
peered at the small passage of holo-text that floated next to it. 'Here
lies the lightsaber of the famed Jedi Knight Anakin Solo. Not much is known
of the circumstances of his death, no body was ever found, but one can be
sure he died in the service of the Republic he loved.'

Anakin snorted. His enemies were overconfident it seemed. That
gave him one advantage over them. He wrapped his hand in the cuff of his
tunic and cocked his fist. The glass gave way under the first blow,
shattering and sprinkling the floor around him. He grabbed his lightsaber
and smiled. This gave him another.

"Eemar. Artoo," he called. "Stand back. I have a way to get in."

* * *

"Son a of a bloated vornskr," Myx breathed. "That boy managed to
find his way into the encrypted files." Shock, more than anything else,
kept Myx from instantly taking action. He had been assured that the Jedi
would be easily disposed of by use of the device, and that there would be
no danger in bringing him to such a sensitive area. Sometimes Myx wondered
whether his superior was becoming suicidally overconfident in his position
and abilities. Still, the damage was done; far more than Myx wanted to
think about at the moment, but done nonetheless. It was time for him to
stop gaping like an adolescent and do something about it.

Myx's fingers played over the controls of the security facilities,
cycling through an increasing barrage of holo-images. The collection was
quite vast and swallowed a very large portion of this structure, so he was
rather sure that the Jedi and his friend hadn't left the area yet. Or at
least he hoped so. The boy had, after all, performed the astounding feat of
worming his way from the simple cataloguing system installed in the museum
into the organizational mainframe. Myx had the sinking feeling that uncanny
and seemingly impossible events were about to conspire against him. When he
finally discovered what section of the museum the Jedi had penetrated, the
feeling tripled.

"Harg, Jezt. I'm going to activate some of the droids and send them
after the Jedi. I need the two of you to do something special."

* * *

Anakin's lightsaber severed the last of the bars welded to the
frame, and the grate clattered noisily into the duct. Eemar hung over the
edge and hefted the slagged hunk of metal out of his way. He swung his
legs into the shaft before looking back at Anakin, a somewhat wistful
expression on his face.

"Well my friend, this is good-bye for now. I must say, this little
exercise has taken years off my life and shattered quite a dull rut I'd been
wading in. Perhaps we could do it again sometime?" Anakin shook his head
before finally clasping Eemar's outstretched hand. "May the tides of
fortune flow in your favor, Jedi Solo."

"And in yours also," Anakin solemnly responded. Eemar flashed him
a brief approximation of a grin, then released his hand and dropped into
the vent. The occasional clang drifted back up through the narrow metal
vesicle as the Mon Cal shuffled his way forward.

When Anakin was finally satisfied that Eemar had gotten himself a
good lead, he strode to where Artoo was finishing a preliminary of the
starfighter. "So, how does she look Artoo?" The droid bleeped
enthusiastically. It seems he had prior experience with this particular
model of fighter. "Well, there's no point hanging around waiting for Wynor
to try and trap us. Let's get moving."

The droid rolled over the smooth floor tiles and positioned himself
beneath the belly of the ship. "Artoo, what are you doing?" Anakin
gestured to the top of the fighter. "Your socket is up there." Artoo
bleeped scornfully just as a pair of claws extended from the starfighter
and lifted the droid into the socket from beneath. Anakin stood motionless
for a second, then nodded his approval.

"Efficient," he commented, then leaped to the top of the fighter.
He glanced at the sealed canopy a moment or so before turning pointedly to
Artoo. "Right, you're in, so how about me?" Refraining from making any
comments concerning human impatience and lack of trust, Artoo activated the
hatch. The canopy slid smoothly forward, revealing a reasonably standard
fighter cockpit within.

Which was the precise moment a horde of battle droids marched into
the hangar, unslung their rifles, and opened fire on the fighter.

Artoo screeched in panic as a series of shots sparked of the hull,
leaving crackling pock marks just below the interface socket. While the
droid hurriedly began to the fighter's startup sequence, Anakin fell into
the cockpit and began strapping himself in.

"I've never flown one of these before, where are the weapons'
controls!?" The canopy suddenly slid back into place, sealing Anakin within
the fighter just as laser blasts began to slap against the screen in front
of him. "Artoo!" A small circular screen began to roll with the droid's
instructions, and the ship's engines hummed proudly to life.

Anakin grabbed the control yoke and swung the fighter toward the
droids. "Give me some shields here!" He depressed the fire control and
watched as the front cannons launched a dual gout of deadly green fire,
then finally noticed the flashing tactical display when the stray shots
incinerated a trio of the battle droids.

"Right. Now I've got it." Droid limbs and smoldering metal flew
everywhere as Anakin methodically locked on to each and every mechanical
warrior and seared through them with a quick blast. Any resistance from
their shoulder arms merely pinged harmlessly off the forward shields.
Finally, all that remained was smoke and charred debris.

"All right Artoo, that takes care of the droids. Now where am I
taking this thing?" A line of text flashed across Anakin's display
instructing him to point the fighter toward the northern wall. There were
approximately two further compartments of the museum past this, and then
the outer wall. Anakin couldn't help but grin as he read the rest of the
display.

He pulled the starfighter in line with the specified wall and
toggled a switch on the tactical board. "Torpedoes armed and ready. Here
we go Artoo."

* * *

The sea breeze washed over Eemar as he finally kicked the outer
grate from its moorings. He had followed the winding passage for a
good several meters before finally arriving at one of the vents that
bordered the outside. It might have helped if he hadn't completely
ignored the droid's directions and instead relied on that wonderful
salty scent to guide him, but then that was all in the past wasn't it?
He was here now and that's all that mattered to him.

Of course, here was some twenty-feet above a crashing ocean.
Eemar wasn't sure whether or not to think himself fortunate that their
captors had a residence on the shorelines of one of the cities. He was
of course a very capable swimmer and loved to spend as much time in the
ocean of his homeword as possible, so the journey around the shore to a
more discreet point would not tax him any. Falling such a considerable
distance, however, was not something he was used to. Well, purposefully
so at least. There had been a few small occasions on which he had been
forced to take a lengthy dive or two. But then that was all past too,
wasn't it?

Well, there wasn't much choice in the matter was there? Eemar
began to sorrowfully strip off his robes, they were his favorites after
all and had survived admirably throughout the entire ordeal. When at
last he had progressed down to the final thin layer, he perched just
before the lip of the vent, sent a quick prayer to the Maker, and was
promptly thrown on his face by an intense concussive wave.

Eemar could only lie and stare as great chunks of masonry fell
past his vent, presumably ripped from the facade of the building by the
deafening explosion that had caused the blast. A few moments later the
ancient starfighter tore from the building and streaked for open space,
a blurred mix of chrome and gleaming yellow paint. Eemar stood and
saluted the ship, harboring both sentiment and professional pride for
the boy who piloted it.

Then he dove for the water.

* * *

The stolen Naboo starfighter cut through a heavy patch of cloud
cover, and rose from view of the immense cities that lay below. There
was only moderate atmospheric traffic to worry about, assorted
freighters, liners, and personal ships floating into and out of orbit,
and Anakin found himself quickly warming to the controls of the vessel
anyway. He shouldn't have any trouble navigating and making
adjustments. "She handles beautifully Artoo. What's she called?"
Anakin questioned.

'THIS IS A NABOO N-1 STARFIGHTER,' rolled across the text screen.

"Naboo? Is that the manufacturer? I've never heard of it."

'IT IS THE PLANET OF ORIGIN.'

"Planet? How could it be a planet if I've never heard of it?"
Before Artoo was able to respond though, the ship rocked under the
impact of a laser blast.

'ALERT, TWO HOSTILE VESSELS ON APPROACH. IDENTIFIED AS Z-95
HEADHUNTERS.' The ship jerked again as its shields dissipated another
blow.

"Artoo, shunt the power from the forward deflector screens into
the rear and double them up!" Anakin yanked the control yoke towards
him, wrenching the fighter into a steep vertical climb. "The faster
we get out of the atmosphere, the better chance we have at losing them.
Begin to make the calculations for the jump to hyperspace, I'll
concentrate on dealing with our two friends."

Anakin began to weave the fighter through the patchwork of other
ships, all the time narrowly avoiding taking further hits to his own
vessel. The shots from the Z-95's would slip harmlessly past and
glance off nearby ships or continue onward until they finally burned
themselves out. Unfortunately, they also continued to gain ground on
Anakin throughout the impromptu game of tag.

"Artoo, what's the maximum speed I can coax from this thing?
We're beginning to lose our lead and we still have another minute
before we break the atmosphere."

'EIGHT SUBLIGHT UNITS PER STANDARD MINUTE.'

"That's about the average of an X-wing. What are we pulling now?"
Anakin asked while neatly dodging another volley.

'SIX SUBLIGHT UNITS PER STANDARD MINUTE.'

"Right," he muttered, having finally found the relevant gauge on
the forward display. "What do you gauge the Headhunters at?"

'APPROXIMATELY SEVEN SUBLIGHT UNITS PER STANDARD MINUTE.'

"Okay, I'm bringing us up to seven and a half. That should keep
them behind us for the moment." Anakin could feel the currents of the
planetary atmosphere begin to thin as the ship responded with more
speed and agility to his commands. The emptiness of space was kind to
ships, bringing the vessels blessed relief from any duress.

In stark contrast to the sky above the city, the space
surrounding Dasney was filled to the point of overflow with starships.
Great planetary defense platforms ringed the planet, and held a
menacing threat over any foreign ship that thought of breaking through
the inbound flight lines. Patrol vessels zoomed quickly in and out of
the queues making sure both inbound and outbound traffic adhered to
regulations and everything was kept orderly. So, of course, when an
unrecognizable starfighter broke through the outbound lines pursued by
two Z-95's with their weapons engaged, the planetary defense authority
went ballistic.

'WARNING. THE PLANETARY DEFENSE BATTERIES HAVE BEEN PRIMED AND A
CONTINGENT OF ORBITAL DEFENSE FIGHTERS ARE VECTORING IN ON OUR
POSITION.'

"Damn," Anakin cursed "I'd forgotten to consider them. Not much
we can do about it now though, we'll just have to evade them too." A
series of blasts suddenly ricocheted off the rear shields, dropping
their status marker from green to yellow. Anakin grimaced. There
wasn't a whole lot of room to maneuver among the throngs of other
ships. Which was precisely why they hadn't pressed their attack up
till this point, he suddenly realized. 'Idiot,' Anakin swore to
himself. 'You've led yourself right where they wanted you to go.'

"Are the lightspeed coordinates ready yet?"

'YES. HOWEVER, THE HYPERDRIVE CANNOT BE ENGAGED THIS CLOSE TO SO
MANY SHIPS. YOU WILL NEED TO CLEAR PLANETARY ORBIT FIRST. AND
QUICKLY.'

"I know, I know. I making the best outward progress I can
without getting us vaporized in the process." Anakin ducked the N-1
beneath a line of freighters and then back through the middle. The
Z-95's held fast.

'THE PDA BLASTBOATS HAVE ARRIVED WITHIN FIRING RANGE.'

"Good, maybe they can help us out with our friends back there."

'THE HEADHUNTERS HAVE BEGUN TRANSMITTING A PDA IDENTIFICATION
'FRIENDLY' SIGNAL!'

"What!? How the hell could they be. . ."

'MULTIPLE TORPEDO LOCKS!'

Anakin jammed the throttle control down, cutting off all power to
the engines and briefly prayed. A swarm of very surprised fighters
sprayed past the slowing vessel, all launching their torpedoes seconds
too late to strike it. Kicking all power back into his engines, Anakin
wheeled the N-1 around and threw it back into the mass of waiting ships
knowing full well that the torpedoes were still locked on to him and
would correct their error.

True to form, the mass of glowing blue projectiles looped around
came screaming toward the N-1. "Give me a count Artoo!" Anakin
continued to buck and weave through a mass of freighters, using them as
a shield against the torpedoes.

'THERE ARE CURRENTLY EIGHT TORPEDOES IN PURSUIT. THEY WILL IMPACT IN
ONE MINUTE AND FIFTEEN SECONDS.'

"We can't endanger the people in these ships because of us.
We'll have to pull out of here before the torpedoes get to close."

'IMPACT IN FIFTY-EIGHT SECONDS.'

"What are the enemy fighters doing?"

'THEY ARE TRAILING THE PROJECTILES.'

"Moving into position just in case this strike doesn't work.
Smart."

'IMPACT IN THIRTY-TWO SECONDS.'

"How to get out, how to get out. . ." Anakin muttered.

'IMPACT IN TWENTY-THREE SECONDS.'

"Damn, I really am an idiot. Hang on Artoo." Anakin forced the
control yoke as far forward as possible and the N-1 plummeted into a
nose dive. "Shunting power from shields to the engines." Anakin wove
the ship through the thick mass of ships, all seemingly hurtling at his
canopy as if he were in an asteroid field.

'IMPACT IN FOURTEEN SECONDS.'

"Come on. Just a few more rows." Anakin squashed the part of
this Force sense that was screaming about the incoming danger. He
couldn't afford any distractions now. The throttle increased further,
pushing the fighter past its safety margins.

'IMPACT IN EIGHT SECONDS.'

The N-1 burst free of the mass of ships, having significantly
minimized the journey by heading down instead of out.

'IMPACT IN FIVE SECONDS.'

Anakin grabbed the hyperspace levers. *Here's hoping you've got
those coordinates right Artoo,* he silently prayed.

'IMPACT IN THREE. . .' Anakin yanked the levers downward. The
stars around him blurred, stretched, and pulled the tiny vessel into
hyperspace.


To Be Continued. . .

End Notes- 'Dreams' has been awfully Anakin heavy of late, basically
to the exclusion of everyone else. Don't worry though, starting with
chapter nine Jacen, Jaina, Tenel Ka, Lowie, Gwyn, and Mercer will all
be back. Thought I'd forgotten about them didn't you?