Disclaimer: Most of the characters featured are the property of G. Lucas.
No copyright infringement intended. I am NOT making any money with this.
ONLY TO BE ARCHIVED AT FANFICTION.NET
Timeline: Post- Vision of the Future, replacing Union
To M. For feedback, excellent company, fellowship in SW-madness and fun around the clock ;=) (Especially behind the wheel - I sure would like to see you with an X-wing!)
SPOILER ALERT: Planet of Twilight, Showdown at Centrepoint, Specter of The Past, Vision of The Future, Vector Prime as well as some later New Jedi Orders. (And naturally the Thrawn trilogy, how can anyone possibly avoid that? ;=)
WARPED UNIVERSE ALERT: For the sake of storytelling, Isard's not dead at all. Condolenses to those who get stomach cramps from the woman. I know what you're going through. Just thank the stars of Alderaan I didn't bring Callista back.
Star Wars: The Rising By Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi)
Luke tapped the hyperdrive engager, nervously. So this was it then, end of Leia's precious treaty. He'd never dared to voice his suspicions, but little good was it going to do now.
Someone coughed through the comm. "What now?" Wes asked and Luke saw him maneuver his X-wing slightly closer to his in a less attacking position. "Do we make the call or see what we can squeeze out of him."
Luke reattempted connection to the Judicator. Nothing. "They've shut the channel."
Two new objects appeared on his radar, and his hands flew to the lasers, fearing that the Admiral had already sent out TIEs or sienars. The other was a TIE alright, but its vector was taking it into the star destroyer rather than away from it. Probably a reconnaissance or a stray.
The other was a civilian ship, also headed for the Star Destroyer.
And neither of them seemed to pose a threat, Luke relaxed. The Imperials seemed to be waiting for something - judging by Pellaeon's reply the would've otherwise already attacked. Was it either of these small ships?
He should've immediately called for the rest of the fleet, but he feared that a possible Republican victory would mean the destruction of the star destroyer that likely at the moment was housing the Falcon along with its crew.
And the rest of the military personnell would not see the personal cost Luke did. Han and Lando would be casualties of war, sacrificeable for the greater good. Luke understood this and did not mourn for Biggs or those others who'd flown out with him against the first Death Star and gotten gunned down. But Han and Lando had not intended to end up here, and Luke knew that Leia, despite her responsible character that always sought greater good for the galaxy, would not survive the loss. Not ever.
Like he himself would not even consider the possibility of losing Mara.
Aware that Janson was waiting, he came to a decision. It was not going to be easy, but he'd had lukc with similar stunts before, and he hoped it would last.
"Wes?" he asked. "Lock off the foils."
"What?" Wes blurted out. "I thought we were leaving but not retreating?"
"We're not going anywhere but aboard the Judicator."
"WHAT?" Janson asked, not able to keep his voice down. The comm squealed at his yelling.
"Don't worry, you'll only have to escort."
Janson did as told, taking down the foils, feeling nervous. If they faced battle, it would take precious time to lock them up again.
Luke swallowed. He was going to use his fame, just this once. Tapping into emergency frequencies, he found an open one. "Star destroyer Judicator, this is Commander Skywalker of the new Republic."
"What now, Commander?" It was Pellaeon again. He'd obviously taken it on himself to address any communications from the Republic himself. "Why are you using emergency channels? Is this your observation of humour?" his tone was icy.
"Negative," Luke replied, trying to sound worried, "I have a systems-down and require help."
Luke could well imagine the Commander staring at the comm, suspicious as ever. But he also knew he wouldn't let this slip.
"Very well," he said slowly. How suicidal could Skywalker possibly get? "New Republic fighters - " it was almost too much of a temptation for Pellaeon to use the words 'rebels' - "Prepare for tractor beam in seventeen standards."
Janson's voice was bitter as it spiked through the comm. "Now you've done it." Technically this accusation was a violation of code as Luke was of higher rank than him, but it had never mattered among the Rogues. "Do I get to hear the plan or do I just fly into a star destroyer and hope they'll let us enjoy their warm hospitality?"
Luke didn't reply. The phase one of his plan had succeeded, and he hoped he would come up with the next parts before they were in the range for the tractor beam. In the meanwhile, he'd need Artoo's help.
The little droid had heard their conversation, and its reaction was not very unlike Janson's. Luke could hear incessant bleeping and burping. "Calm down, Artoo. It's okay. Now, I need your help. Could you shut down the main power sockets. Just shut them down, that's all, make it look like it's a bad wiring or something."
Irritated chittering and a bleep.
"That's not doing us any good, Artoo," Luke reminded. "Will you please shut down the power?"
The the engines silenced and lights blinked as auxiliary power and the spare life support system kicked into action. "Thank you. When we get inside, pull the power back, got it?"
More annoyed chittering, along with a somewhat reassuring burp.
He kept the command channels shut. There was no way he was going to explain this to General Madine.
In the meanwhile, Pellaeon had other duties. Damned Skywalker for delaying him. He left the command bridge, and took one of the faster elevators down to the central hangars, hoping his visitor would not have landed yet.
He'd been slightly reluctant to allow this - it had proved fatal to the Empire on many occasions to have the high ends of power present in leading battleships, but Pellaeon's reluctance had been met with an icy reminder of who was in charge.
He hurried down the staircase leading to a smaller side port. He didn't have time to form a welcome patrol, and he didn't need to.
A small freighter had landed on the black duracrete, and the ramps were just coming down. To Pellaeon's great suprise, the first to descend it was indeed the Sith, but this time the hood of the cloak was pulled down, revealing the face of a relatively young woman, roughly Isard's age, with blackish brown hair and sharp features.
Pellaeon had never met her - few had, but he'd had a hunch of the Sith's indentity from the beginning.
She slid down to the ramp like a qentaun bird. Pellaeon stepped closer, and did what an Imperial gentleman should - offered her his hand to assist her to jump down from the ledge. She accepted the gesture with a smile that only stretched as far as her lips went. Her eyes gazed into his, piercing.
Iceheart had just gotten herself competition.
There was no doubt in Pellaeon's mind why Palpatine had taken an interest in her.
"I hope the New Republic fleet did not trouble your journey, Master." He contemplated briefly on changing the attribute to mistress, but considering the other uses of the aforementioned word he decided not to.
"They did not. Although they seem to have a pretty good grasp of our standpoint, Admiral," she replied, her voice neutral, which was probably as friendly as it ever got, "How far are we from our target?"
"Roughly one standard hour." They began the walk through the crew deck halls towards the pressurelifts. "Although I have to say I still don't know if Commander Isard's strategy suits our needs as it does not include ground fare."
"We have a new strategy," Mondian replied briefly, "I shall be keeping the fleet in tow until . You must know the procedure from the shortcomings of the late Jedi Master Jorus C'Baoth."
Pellaeon almost shivered. Could she do this, even? Control the minds of the entire fleet as C'Baoth and his clone had done?
"Have you done this before?" he asked, not wanting to hand over the fleet into rehearsal dummy duty.
His question seemed to rattle the woman. "No, but I have foreseen our victory."
So that was it then. Pellaeon's spirit dampened slightly as he realized he'd been dropped back to the no-questions-asked rank.
************************************************'
Thank you for reading. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
Heidi Ahlmen siirma6@surfeu.fi
ONLY TO BE ARCHIVED AT FANFICTION.NET
Timeline: Post- Vision of the Future, replacing Union
To M. For feedback, excellent company, fellowship in SW-madness and fun around the clock ;=) (Especially behind the wheel - I sure would like to see you with an X-wing!)
SPOILER ALERT: Planet of Twilight, Showdown at Centrepoint, Specter of The Past, Vision of The Future, Vector Prime as well as some later New Jedi Orders. (And naturally the Thrawn trilogy, how can anyone possibly avoid that? ;=)
WARPED UNIVERSE ALERT: For the sake of storytelling, Isard's not dead at all. Condolenses to those who get stomach cramps from the woman. I know what you're going through. Just thank the stars of Alderaan I didn't bring Callista back.
Star Wars: The Rising By Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi)
Luke tapped the hyperdrive engager, nervously. So this was it then, end of Leia's precious treaty. He'd never dared to voice his suspicions, but little good was it going to do now.
Someone coughed through the comm. "What now?" Wes asked and Luke saw him maneuver his X-wing slightly closer to his in a less attacking position. "Do we make the call or see what we can squeeze out of him."
Luke reattempted connection to the Judicator. Nothing. "They've shut the channel."
Two new objects appeared on his radar, and his hands flew to the lasers, fearing that the Admiral had already sent out TIEs or sienars. The other was a TIE alright, but its vector was taking it into the star destroyer rather than away from it. Probably a reconnaissance or a stray.
The other was a civilian ship, also headed for the Star Destroyer.
And neither of them seemed to pose a threat, Luke relaxed. The Imperials seemed to be waiting for something - judging by Pellaeon's reply the would've otherwise already attacked. Was it either of these small ships?
He should've immediately called for the rest of the fleet, but he feared that a possible Republican victory would mean the destruction of the star destroyer that likely at the moment was housing the Falcon along with its crew.
And the rest of the military personnell would not see the personal cost Luke did. Han and Lando would be casualties of war, sacrificeable for the greater good. Luke understood this and did not mourn for Biggs or those others who'd flown out with him against the first Death Star and gotten gunned down. But Han and Lando had not intended to end up here, and Luke knew that Leia, despite her responsible character that always sought greater good for the galaxy, would not survive the loss. Not ever.
Like he himself would not even consider the possibility of losing Mara.
Aware that Janson was waiting, he came to a decision. It was not going to be easy, but he'd had lukc with similar stunts before, and he hoped it would last.
"Wes?" he asked. "Lock off the foils."
"What?" Wes blurted out. "I thought we were leaving but not retreating?"
"We're not going anywhere but aboard the Judicator."
"WHAT?" Janson asked, not able to keep his voice down. The comm squealed at his yelling.
"Don't worry, you'll only have to escort."
Janson did as told, taking down the foils, feeling nervous. If they faced battle, it would take precious time to lock them up again.
Luke swallowed. He was going to use his fame, just this once. Tapping into emergency frequencies, he found an open one. "Star destroyer Judicator, this is Commander Skywalker of the new Republic."
"What now, Commander?" It was Pellaeon again. He'd obviously taken it on himself to address any communications from the Republic himself. "Why are you using emergency channels? Is this your observation of humour?" his tone was icy.
"Negative," Luke replied, trying to sound worried, "I have a systems-down and require help."
Luke could well imagine the Commander staring at the comm, suspicious as ever. But he also knew he wouldn't let this slip.
"Very well," he said slowly. How suicidal could Skywalker possibly get? "New Republic fighters - " it was almost too much of a temptation for Pellaeon to use the words 'rebels' - "Prepare for tractor beam in seventeen standards."
Janson's voice was bitter as it spiked through the comm. "Now you've done it." Technically this accusation was a violation of code as Luke was of higher rank than him, but it had never mattered among the Rogues. "Do I get to hear the plan or do I just fly into a star destroyer and hope they'll let us enjoy their warm hospitality?"
Luke didn't reply. The phase one of his plan had succeeded, and he hoped he would come up with the next parts before they were in the range for the tractor beam. In the meanwhile, he'd need Artoo's help.
The little droid had heard their conversation, and its reaction was not very unlike Janson's. Luke could hear incessant bleeping and burping. "Calm down, Artoo. It's okay. Now, I need your help. Could you shut down the main power sockets. Just shut them down, that's all, make it look like it's a bad wiring or something."
Irritated chittering and a bleep.
"That's not doing us any good, Artoo," Luke reminded. "Will you please shut down the power?"
The the engines silenced and lights blinked as auxiliary power and the spare life support system kicked into action. "Thank you. When we get inside, pull the power back, got it?"
More annoyed chittering, along with a somewhat reassuring burp.
He kept the command channels shut. There was no way he was going to explain this to General Madine.
In the meanwhile, Pellaeon had other duties. Damned Skywalker for delaying him. He left the command bridge, and took one of the faster elevators down to the central hangars, hoping his visitor would not have landed yet.
He'd been slightly reluctant to allow this - it had proved fatal to the Empire on many occasions to have the high ends of power present in leading battleships, but Pellaeon's reluctance had been met with an icy reminder of who was in charge.
He hurried down the staircase leading to a smaller side port. He didn't have time to form a welcome patrol, and he didn't need to.
A small freighter had landed on the black duracrete, and the ramps were just coming down. To Pellaeon's great suprise, the first to descend it was indeed the Sith, but this time the hood of the cloak was pulled down, revealing the face of a relatively young woman, roughly Isard's age, with blackish brown hair and sharp features.
Pellaeon had never met her - few had, but he'd had a hunch of the Sith's indentity from the beginning.
She slid down to the ramp like a qentaun bird. Pellaeon stepped closer, and did what an Imperial gentleman should - offered her his hand to assist her to jump down from the ledge. She accepted the gesture with a smile that only stretched as far as her lips went. Her eyes gazed into his, piercing.
Iceheart had just gotten herself competition.
There was no doubt in Pellaeon's mind why Palpatine had taken an interest in her.
"I hope the New Republic fleet did not trouble your journey, Master." He contemplated briefly on changing the attribute to mistress, but considering the other uses of the aforementioned word he decided not to.
"They did not. Although they seem to have a pretty good grasp of our standpoint, Admiral," she replied, her voice neutral, which was probably as friendly as it ever got, "How far are we from our target?"
"Roughly one standard hour." They began the walk through the crew deck halls towards the pressurelifts. "Although I have to say I still don't know if Commander Isard's strategy suits our needs as it does not include ground fare."
"We have a new strategy," Mondian replied briefly, "I shall be keeping the fleet in tow until . You must know the procedure from the shortcomings of the late Jedi Master Jorus C'Baoth."
Pellaeon almost shivered. Could she do this, even? Control the minds of the entire fleet as C'Baoth and his clone had done?
"Have you done this before?" he asked, not wanting to hand over the fleet into rehearsal dummy duty.
His question seemed to rattle the woman. "No, but I have foreseen our victory."
So that was it then. Pellaeon's spirit dampened slightly as he realized he'd been dropped back to the no-questions-asked rank.
************************************************'
Thank you for reading. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
Heidi Ahlmen siirma6@surfeu.fi