Star Wars Infinities: The Warrior
By Christopher W. Blaine (darth_yoshi@yahoo.com)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained in this story are ©2002 by George Lucas and are used herein without permission for fan-related, non-profit entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2002 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in part or as a whole without the express permission of the author.
CHAPTER 3
"Gentlemen, let's bring this meeting to order," Grand Moff Tarkin said. His voice carried an air of authority and his face carried an air of fear. Gaunt, almost skeletal, with a grayness that seemed to permeate his skin, Tarkin was the senior Moff, or military governor, in the Empire. It was he that oversaw the construction of the Death Star over the planet Tatooine and it was he who had been given command of it by the Emperor himself.
Tarkin looked at the assembled officers, many of them former members of the staff employed by Darth Vader when he had been alive. There were also those whom Tarkin considered political allies that he had placed in key positions within the Death Star Forces, a new branch of the military he himself had designed.
When all of the conversation had stopped, he smiled with his thin, dry lips and placed his hands behind his back. "The Death Star is now officially operational."
Several of the officers exchanged looks of surprise and shock. Preliminary trials were scheduled to continue for several months. Tarkin understood their concerns, but felt they were foolish and fearful ones. "We are to make best speed to Imperial Center where the Emperor plans to unveil us to the general populace."
"What of the Sith Moon?" Admiral Motti asked, referring to the second, yet larger and more powerful battlestation.
"It is still under construction at Endor and will be commanded by Admiral Daala," Tarkin replied. Daala was well-known to be the married Tarkin's mistress. A competent officer and tactician, she was nevertheless considered nothing more than a whore by the combat officers. Had it not been for the presence of Darth Deceptra in the Imperial military ranks, many doubted that Daala could ever hope to achieve such a position.
"And the Super-Class star destroyer program?" another aide asked.
Tarkin shrugged. He felt that the new warships were ludicrous when compared to the firepower of a battlestation such as the Death Star. "It's really none of our concern. For our needs, the Imperial-class vessels we have onboard shall do quite nicely." He waited for any more questions and then proceeded with the briefing. "After the ceremony on Imperial Center, we have been directed out to Bakura, where contact has been made with a new sentient race."
"We are opening relations?" someone called out.
"That will be the official story. In reality, we will wipe this species from the galaxy. They have shown an unwillingness to be subjugated by humans."
"Can we eat them?" someone joked.
Tarkin grinned. "We shall see, we shall see." He turned on the table's holoprojector and a small map of the Empire popped up. "After that, I believe that we will begin pursuing this rebellion that has begun to creep up on many of the secondary worlds."
General Veers looked at the map; worlds with known rebel cells were outlined in blue. "Have we determined if these groups are coordinating their efforts?"
Tarkin nodded. "Yes, they do appear to have come up with a centralized leadership. Of course, they are no threat to the Empire overall, but we may be forced to take drastic actions against worlds harboring the malcontents."
"I have heard rumors that there are Jedi at the head of these groups," Veers said as he sat back.
"They would be very old Jedi if they were, General. No, the last Jedi was Ki Adi Mundi and he was killed by Darth Maul over eighteen years ago. There are no more Jedi masters, no more Jedi Knights. Their fire has gone out in the galaxy." He paused for a moment. "However, if we do come across such evidence, we will turn it over to Darth Deceptra immediately and allow her to deal with it."
The meeting then broke up, each officer heading back to their departments to ensure the information was passed down to the lowest of levels. Tarkin remained alone in the room and waited until a secret door opened up. A blue-skinned humanoid in the uniform of a Grand Admiral stepped out. "Not exactly the truth," Thrawn said.
Tarkin gave it a dismissive wave of his hand. "The Jedi are gone, most were eliminated during the massacre at the Temple and the rest were hunted down. History records Ki Adi Mundi as the last Jedi."
"And we both know that my ventures into the Unknown Regions over the past decade have turned up a surprising bit of evidence that some of the Jedi escaped outside of the galaxy," Thrawn corrected.
"Which is why we are going to destroy the Sri-Ruuk out at Bakura, just in case some of the Jedi made it to them.? He regarded the alien. "What do you care?"
"A single Jedi could bring down the entire New Order; we both know not to underestimate them." Thrawn moved over to the viewport and looked out. All he could see were the towers of the surface of the Death Star. "A single Jedi could bring down this battlestation."
"Of course," Tarkin replied sarcastically, "and I suppose he would fly in and drop a proton torpedo into my reactor ventilation system."
"He could have had I not found that flaw," Thrawn corrected.
"I suffer you because I have no desire to have that Sith Witch on board, don't make me regret it," Tarkin said.
Thrawn smiled and his red eyes took on a new shade. "Interesting choice of words, governor; it will make a wonderful addition to my report."
"Do whatever you will, Thrawn! Once the ceremony is over, you transfer back to the Unknown Regions and I get a proper, human attaché."
Thrawn studied Tarkin for a moment, watching his facial features, even the slight twitch of his hand. This was a doomed man, Thrawn decided, doomed by his own arrogance. "Since my presence offends you, I shall take my leave. One thing, though," he said as he approached his secret door.
"What is that?"
"Don't put too much faith into this construction of metal and wire; the sentient spirit, whether you call it a soul or the Force, is much stronger and harder to break. This is a weapon meant to either destroy your enemies with finesse or without. It is the without I would worry about were I you, governor."
Dash stepped into the docking bay and regarded his ship. The Outrider was a Corellian Engineering YT-2400 freighter, heavily modified with everything that Dash and Lando could get a hold of. He loved the ship and he felt it loved him back. She was the last of her kind and Dash would often sit in the cockpit and wonder what it had been like in the old days when all of the cool smugglers had Corellian vessels.
The truth was that the Empire was slowly choking the life out of Corellia. Major starship contracts were being handed out to Seinar and Kuat, leaving the Corellians, master shipbuilders for centuries, with no real market. The Hutts were gone, Nal Hutta having been reduced to a flaming husk in the early days of the Empire and there simply were no other groups wanting to buy Corellian goods.
The logical thinking was that since Corellia had not supported Palpatine's many dictates from the throne it was going to be allowed to starve to death. The same thing was basically happening with Alderaan as well, but that planet had been smart enough to invest in many diverse locations. It would take Alderaan many decades to become poor.
It was just one of the reasons why Dash had left the military so suddenly. When he had gone home on leave and saw the state of his world, it brought tears to his eyes. Then he saw the Imperial recruiting poster with the pilots from the Knights, Soontir Fel and Han Solo, both "home-grown Corellians". It had been enough to make Dash question what he had been doing.
For the first year, he tried being a mercenary, but then he ended up killing an important Imperial spy and that had put the death warrant on his head. Normally, deserters, even ones trained like Dash had been, were given lengthy prison sentences or sent on suicide missions; death warrants were normally reserved for people who really had angered the Emperor. It took some doing on Lando's part, but he finally found out that the man Dash had killed had actually been a major in the Crimson Guard, Palpatine's elite bodyguard.
The death warrant complicated things so much that Dash had to become a smuggler, where having a death warrant was a badge of honor. The smugglers wouldn't turn him in, but that didn't mean that bounty hunters wouldn't be coming after him now and again.
"Heard you ran into Greedo," Lando said as he stepped down the loading ramp. He was wiping some grease off of his well-manicured hands.
"Born loser, I tell you. I gave him a chance to leave, but he was going to shoot me right there to make sure I didn't get away," Dash said as he inspected the outer hull plates. "He told me my price is up to fifty-thousand."
Lando whistled. "Man, that is going to bring out the professionals, you know that? People like Bossk and Dengar."
Dash shook his head. "I know Dengar; he's already told me he won't come after me. Bossk, though…"
Lando suppressed a shiver. The Transdoshan bounty hunter was infamous for his relentless pursuits. "Hey, once we pay Xizor back he might protect you."
Dash had considered that. Xizor had actually been pretty good to him and Lando, giving them all of this extra time to pay back their debt. Most people would have been hunted down by now, but Dash secretly suspected that Xizor found Lando too good of a card player to let go. If Dash wasn't working with Lando, then he'd probably be dead already. "I'm thinking about doing something else for a change."
"What, honest work?"
Dash eyed him. "Aren't you the one who wants to be respectable? I just want to live. I'm thinking about heading deep into the Corporate Sector, maybe signing on with one of the security companies. The Empire doesn't pursue warrants there."
"They don't chase you into the Hapan Cluster either but I wouldn't go there," Lando offered.
Dash was about to reply when Lando pointed to the bay doors. Dash's hand brushed his blaster grip as he turned to see their passengers coming through. They were still dressed the same, but both had their hoods up. "Why do they dress like Jedi?'
Shrugging, Lando offered no help. "At least they don't have lightsabers."
Dash told him to fire up the repulsor coils and then moved out to meet his fare. "Glad to see you could make it," Dash said.
The older man handed over an envelope and Dash looked inside it. Sure enough, it was full of CSA vouchers. "You know you could have bought a ship for this amount."
"Not a fast one," the boy offered. Dash wondered if he realized just how fast the Outrider was.
"She'll make point-two-five past light-speed, if you're interested," Dash said as he led them to the ramp. "She's got enough shields and arms that we should be able to get out the way of anyone who tries to stop us."
"So, you'll stand and fight if we're accosted?" the older man asked.
Dash shook his head. "If I was by myself, I might harass them a little, but with cargo, no way."
As they walked up the ramp a small chirping sound could be heard. Dash whirled around, drawing his blaster. His quick reflexes astonished his passengers. "You two are armed," he said with a smile.
The older man pulled back his hood and directed his younger partner to do the same. In the good light of the cargo hold, Dash could see that the "boy" was really a bit older than what he had originally thought. The young man had a stern look to his eye; he really did not like having a weapon pointing at him. "If we could step inside and get out of here, I would like to explain," the older man offered.
Dash nodded his head once. "Sure, just drop the blasters and then we can talk."
"Dad," the younger one said, "let's just take him down and drag him there!"
"You two are the sorriest bounty hunters I've ever seen, you know that?" Dash remarked as several weapons hit the deck plate. When he was satisfied that they were disarmed, Dash closed the hatch and told Lando to take off. "Better strap in," he said, not taking his eyes off of the prisoners.
The younger one kicked out, hoping to knock Dash's weapon away, but Dash was too seasoned to fall for such a move. He moved the weapon, leaned in and punched his assailant in the face. As the younger one went down, Dash ordered "dad" to pick him up.
"We aren't bounty hunters," he said. "We're CorSec."
"Great, now I've got law enforcement out of their jurisdiction hunting me down. Does this look like Corellia to you? No, this is Tatooine, a planet with no extradition treaty with anyone." He cursed and moved them into the lounge area, where he holstered his pistol for the ride up into space. Even if they did get it away from him, he could call to Lando to seal the cockpit and then fill the lounge with gas that would render them all asleep. "Why the ruse?"
The older man smiled. "I'm Hal Horn and this is my son, Corran."
"I believe my fist already met his face," Dash said. He received a death glare from Corran. "You haven't answered my question. Is Corellia so hard up for money that it's using its own security to chase down bounties now?"
Hal laughed. "We don't want to turn you in, we were sent to bring you to someone who wants to just speak with you."
"Let me guess: some gutter-whore is saying I'm the father of her twenty children. You're chasing a wild mynock, fellas; I've never even slept with a girl from Corellia."
Corran sneered. "That's because Corellian women, even the prostitutes, have taste."
Dash held up his bloody fist. "I'll give you something to taste, hotshot!"
"Bring it on, deserter!"
Dash pointed to his trousers, which were blue with a long red stripe running down the length. "See that? That's a Corellian Bloodstripe. Do you have one?"
Corran rolled his eyes. "All of the good Imperial lackeys have them."
Dash jumped up and Corran met him in the center of the lounge, where they managed to trade several blows before Lando adjusted the degree of incline and sent them tumbling down the passage towards the hold.
Corran was the first to get up and he jumped on Dash's back to start pummeling him in the back of the head. Dash's biceps turned red as he pushed up off of the deck and then flopped to his side, throwing Corran off of him. "You hit like a girl, CorSec!"
"You dress like one," Corran returned as he grabbed a loose hydrospanner. A wild swing caught Dash's shoulder, but the padding protected him from any real damage. He retaliated with an uppercut that took Corran off of his feet.
The younger security officer landed hard and Dash was rewarded when he saw a tooth missing from Corran's mouth. With a war cry, he jumped and landed on top of Corran, knocking the wind out of him.
Secure in the knowledge that the autopilot would take them out to the jump point, Lando exited the cockpit and raced down the passageway to the lounge, his small, yet expensive, holdout blaster in his hand. He saw Hal sitting in his chair, but Corran and Dash were nowhere to be seen. "Hi," Hal said extending his hand, "I'm Hal Horn of Corellian Security."
Lando took the hand, but kept his eyes in the passage down to the cargo bay. He could hear the sounds of fighting. Hal explained. "They are getting to know each other."
Nodding, Lando brought the blaster down and put it back in his sleeve. "Are we under arrest?"
Hal shook his head. "No."
"Do we still get paid?"
"Sure, so long as you two meet with someone for us. After that, you'll be free to go. We have no intention of seeing another Corellian subjugated to Imperial justice."
Lando liked that answer and sat down next to Hal. "While they're busy, would you like to play some sabbac?"
Hal got a twinkle in his eye. He was the reigning CorSec sabbac wizard. He saw an easy way to make some extra credits for this trip. Maybe pay for some anger management courses for Corran. "Why, that sounds like fun. I must warn you, I don't play very well."
Three hours later, Lando was counting his chips. "You were right, you don't play very well."
Hal grimaced and turned his attention to the passageway. "They've been awfully quiet for awhile. You think they're dead?"
"Now, I'm not a native of your planet, but I find it very hard to believe that a Corellian could be killed so easily," Lando remarked with a smile. The two men stood up and moved to the cargo area. Several containers were broken open and there were bloodstains on the bulkheads and deck plates. In the corner, two bruised, broken and bloody men were examining a blaster.
"Nothing beats the BlasTech DL-44," Dash said, handing the weapon over to Corran. "Easy to modify, too."
Corran tried to hold it, but it fell out of his grip. "I think my fingers are broken," he laughed.
Dash giggled at the comment. "You're okay, CorSec. You take a butt-whipping pretty well."
"You're butt got whipped, deserter," was the reply. Dash winced when he noticed that several teeth were missing from Corran's mouth.
"I'm really sorry about the kick to the teeth," he offered. Corran waved it away and told him that once they got to Corellia, their benefactor would see to it that he was treated with the best medical care.
"I take it you two are friends now?" Lando asked.
Dash looked over at him and Lando saw that his left eye was completely swollen shut. "We have an understanding now. We're going to see Garm Bel Iblis."
"The Imperial senator?"
Dash nodded and wiped some blood from his chin. "He wants to offer us a job or something."
"And you agreed to meet with him?" Lando asked, not believing what he was hearing. "You have a fifty thousand credit bounty on your head in the form of an official Imperial death warrant and you want to go have a talk with a member of the legislature?"
"Hey, it's Garm Bel Iblis!" Dash responded. "This is a Corellian thing."
Lando just shook his head and turned to return to the cockpit, spouting questions to whatever deity was listening at the moment.
