Disclaimer: I own the characters. I own the plot. Lucas owns the Galaxy

Summary: One thousand years before the Empire was even imagined, the Sith were running rampant, trying to take over the entire galaxy. They might have succeeded, if it weren't for one hotheaded Padawan.

/bla/ = italics ~bla~ = note [bla] = thoughts

~*~*~

Del Myriad, episode I: The Sith wars.

Chapter 8: "My Old Haunt"

Nash Solo took manual control of the Centennial Eagle as it entered the cave. Initiating the landing sequence, he looked out at the cave's interior. Even after all these years, not much had changed in his old hideout. Except for that crevice in the back. It was wider than he remembered. And there was light coming from it. Someone had wired his cave, and that someone was probably still here.

His senses went on high alert. He completed the landing sequence and locked down the ship before strapping on his blasters and leaving the cockpit. Instead of heading for the boarding ramp though, he turned into the living quarters. Rungs were set in the wall next to the counter, forming a ladder that led to a hatch in the ceiling.

Two minutes after landing the Centennial Eagle, Nash Solo was climbing out of a round hatch-hole on top of his ship.

He carefully lowered the hatch shut before slowly starting to rise to his feet. He had gotten to a crouch when he suddenly reversed his motion and lay flat on his belly. Men and women armed to the teeth were streaming out of the crevice in the back of the cave. He crawled commando-style to the edge of the ship to get a better look. It seemed they were setting up a security perimeter. He glanced over to the mouth of the cave, in hope that he could make it there before the perimeter was set up. What little hope he had was dashed when a second group of soldiers appeared in the sunlight streaming through the cave mouth, effectively cutting off any chance of escaping that way.

[These better be Republicans]

~*~*~

When Red team One had secured the perimeter and Red team two, the cave mouth, a group of 5 soldiers from within their ranks began an approach on the ship. They took up a spearhead formation, the soldiers on each extremity taking up guard posts on either end of the ship, the one in the middle heading for the closed boarding ramp, and the two remaining soldiers covering him when he reached it and lowered his weapon.

The middle soldier began examining the boarding ramp seal and the ship around it, trying to figure out what sort of lock mechanism it might have and if he could break it. The whole ship looked like it had been rebuilt several times, so he wasn't really surprised that it wasn't anything he recognized, though it looked vaguely like a YT-100 freighter. He noticed a rectangular panel with what might be a hand hold off to the right of the ramp seal. It looked kind of like an exterior opening mechanism, so he tried the handle. It turned, and instead of the ramp lowering, the panel itself opened. The soldier's eyes widened at the sight of what was behind it.

"Uh, sir, I think you should see this."

~*~*~

From his vantage point atop the Eagle, Nash was unable to see what was going on by the boarding ramp, but, he knew every beep and whir his ship made. When he heard the click-whoosh of the panel opening, he had tensed, hoping it wasn't what he thought it was, but when the he heard the soldier call his superior over, he closed his eyes in a 'why me?' gesture. It was /exactly/ what he thought it was.

[They found the lock box. Great.]

He could just picture it, the handle turning, the panel lowering to reveal a green-lit screen and a small keypad. The soldier reading the message that caused him to call his superior over.

~ The Centennial Eagle has been locked down. Please enter the lock code to disengage. ~

A second voice wafted up from below, Nash assumed it was the superior.

"Troops, anything that moves that's not us, shoot to kill. This ship is a gun runner for the Sith, and her pilot is most likely still around."

Nash suppressed the urge to groan. Why did the commander have to say shoot to kill? The only way he could take on 40 well-armed soldiers was with the Eagle's gun turrets, but there was no way he could get back into the ship without being noticed. At least the words seemed to point them out as Republicans.

The commander spoke once again. "Get this baby open. She might have a cargo we could use."

Hearing the increased activity below, it was becoming more and more clear that he had to get out of there if he wanted to stay alive. It was only a matter of time before they would discover him should he stay on the roof of the Eagle like that.

[Unless...]

If anyone other than Nash Solo were trapped on top of a ship like that, they undoubtedly would have been caught and probably killed within minutes. But, he was a Solo, and Solos are notorious for not only getting themselves into sticky situations like this one, but getting themselves out of them relatively unscathed. Most of the time. Besides, this was his old hideout, wasn't it? No half decent smuggler has a secret hideout without having an escape route set up.

[I hope I can still get to it]

He began to make his way back to the hatch. Part of the reason he had chosen this particular cave as a hideout was the fact that there was a crack in its roof that the Sellonians had connected to a series of chambers ideal for storing contraband. The roof was high enough to park the Eagle, but low enough that if he parked directly below the crack, he was able to easily climb into it from on top of his ship. In the old days he had gotten into the habit of parking in such a way that the top hatch was directly below the crack.

Upon reaching the hatch, he turned to look at the cave roof.

[Perfect]

It seemed the habit had remained with him. Barely 4 feet above him was the crack. He stood up, keeping a sharp eye on the soldiers blow before grasping the still-familiar handholds he had carved out all those years ago and pulling himself up into the crack.

He thought for a second he heard a shout just as he drew his foot inside the crack, and for a moment he feared he had been seen, but there were no gunshots. It must have been for something else. He relaxed and began to look for his flashlight.

It was pitch black, the light from the cave not reaching very far up the crack, so years earlier, Nash had hidden a flashlight in a depression in the crack wall. He hoped it was still there. Blindly feeling the walls, he searched for the depression. He found one. It was empty.

[Nash, don't panic.]

It /had/ been a while. Maybe someone else had found the crack. But they would have left the light wouldn't they? Maybe some animal got into here and knocked the flashlight out of its holder. He brushed his hands over the walls with growing apprehension, trying to ignore the pessimistic side of his brain. After what seemed to be an eternity, he found another depression, this one a little lower down. It held the flashlight.

[Let's just hope it still works]

The light was powered by a cold fusion battery, so the power source shouldn't be a problem, but electrode contacts can corrode over time. Even if the power source was in full working order, if the contacts were corroded, no power would be able to reach the bulb and the light would not work.

He found the activator button by feel and pressed it. Light suddenly shone directly into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. He had unwittingly turned the flashlight on with it pointed at his face. He turned it around, lighting the way ahead to his secret storage chambers.

~*~*~

The storage chambers were a mess, exactly as he had left them. Various bits and pieces of contraband were shoved in haphazard mounds against the walls, in some places towering to the ceiling. Back when he had first started smuggling, he had taken to skimming off the top of his cargoes, taking a bauble here, a knickknack there, his customers being none the wiser. Piled around him were the fruits of his labors.

He breathed in the musty air.

"Home sweet home!"

If his memory served him right, he had managed to skim quite the arsenal before a bad experience made him swear off skimming. Now he only had to remember where he put it, so he could take his ship back. Republicans or no, NOBODY touched his ship but him.

A little voice in his head reminded him of a certain Padawan that did.

[Yeah, and look what happened!]

Scanning the light over the piles of bounty, he tried to remember what part he had stashed the guns in. Halfway down one pile, the light reflected off a gun barrel.

[There they are!]

He pulled out the gun and lay it on the ground behind him, along with several blasters, laser cannons and various other firearms. The ammunition was in a few boxes buried under a pile of junk, and when he tried to pull them out, it toppled over him.

[Huh. Glitterstim. That's where I put it.]

The sample of the spice native to the planet Kessel had nearly hit him on the head. It was the very last thing he had ever skimmed. He had learned the hard way never to cheat a Hutt. They may look like overgrown slugs, but their minds are exceedingly sharp. Bubba had picked up right away that Nash's delivery was slightly smaller than what he had been paid for, and Nash barely made it off Tatooine alive, even though he had promised him he'd pay him back. Bubba the Hutt sending bounty hunters after him hadn't helped any either.

He put the spice back in the pile and began going through his arsenal.

It was shortly after getting caught by the Hutts that he began working for the Sith. It got the Bounty hunters off his tail, especially after the Sith took Tatooine and the Hutts essentially lost their power. Except for that one guy though, he just wouldn't give up. What was his name? Rhonda Fett?

[Gahd! Who would name their /son/ Rhonda!]

Anyway, he had dealt with him the only way you /can/ deal with a tenacious bounty hunter. Fett's ship had made quite the spectacular fireball. Though a couple of years back, he had heard of another Fett running around the galaxy. Maybe he had a kid or something. Following in Daddy's footsteps I suppose.

Nash was sorting out the guns by type when he noticed something reflecting off the metallic barrel of a laser cannon. He looked up.

"What the..."

~*~*~

Woot! More ancestors!! You have theprejusticespaniard to blame for it. He wanted to have Nash kill a bounty hunter so it can run in the family, and so you got that little reminiscence scene at the end.

As always, info on the Star Wars universe comes from starwars.com databank. I try to keep as accurate as possible. This means that there really is a planet Kessel where a spice called glitterstim is mined. It looks like smuggling it does run in the family, because the reason Jabba the Hutt was after Han Solo in episodes 4-5-6 was because he was forced to dump a delivery of spice from Kessel that he was supposed to bring to Jabba.

Thank you to those who reviewed.

Eothen: I have read your story. Can't wait for chapter 2 and the return of the Keyboard Files

Spaniard: Well, you got your Bubba the Hutt/ bounty hunter thing. Hope you enjoyed it.

Next chapter: I can't decide whether to call it Centennial Eagle or Corellian Republican Army, but one thing's for sure, another ancestor is introduced.