Part Four: The Power of The Force
On boardThe Moave Avenger now on auto pilot, everyone but Helga and Li-la Binks sat, or stood in the cockpit going over recent events.
"Well," Stinky Kenobi began, "I reckon we done ditched those Trade Federation clowns."
"Goodness me, I hope so," Sid 3PO added.
Arnold just nodded as he was not really focused on the discussion, but on what happened a half hour ago on Naboo. The whole event went over in his mind, Helga saving him from that bounty hunter, the look of fear on her face at what she'd done . . .
The door opened and Li-la Binks walked in, quietly.
"How's Helga doing?" Arnold asked the Gungan, quickly getting to his feet. Master Stinky's eyebrow went up at the fact his padawan had called her by her name, rather than her title of office.
"Sheeas in the back, resting." Li-la Binks told him, softly. "Meesa thinks the whole thing was ever-so tiring for the Senator. It was all a moi-moi shock for her."
Arnold nodded, slowly, "I don't doubt it."
"Arnold, what the heck went on down there?" Stinky asked him. " I felt such a great disturbance in The Force."
"Well, don't look at me, master . . . that was Helga," Arnold said that last part thoughtfully, remembering how taken aback he'd been by the whole thing. She'd saved his life down on Naboo.
Stinky noted that Arnold, for the second time, called the Senator by her name. But that fact was irrelevant next to what Arnold had said.
"The Senator! But . . . how can that be?"
Arnold shook his head, "I . . . I don't know. I'm not really sure she knows either. She seemed afraid by the whole thing."
Sid 3PO looked back and forth between Arnold's seemingly wandering gaze, and Stinky's concentrating gaze, each showing different thoughts going on in their heads.
"Um, excuse me, sirs," the golden droid interrupted, "But might I inquire as to what all of this means anyway?"
Both of the Jedi had the same suspicion building in their minds, but Stinky was the first to suggest testing it.
"Arnold, I reckon you need to go check on the Senator, and better get a sample from her while your back there," Stinky said to his padawan. Then he turned to Sid-3PO and asked, "Can you get the computer to log into the Jedi database medical examiner."
Arnold blinked at Master Stinky. "You mean . . . a midiclorin check?"
Stinky nodded.
Both of them understanding exactly what that meant. They had both felt the power of The Force in her. If Stinky's suspicions were correct, then he could guess why the Sith were after Senator Helga.
Nodding, Arnold left the cockpit.
He went down the small hallway to the crew room near the back where he found Helga laying on a cot, a blanket over her legs and middle. She was looking out at the passing stars.
Arnold coughed, and she turned to face him slowly. Even from the doorway, he could see the worry in her eyes.
"How are you feeling, Senator Amidala?" Arnold asked, now going back to her official title.
Helga snorted, "Feel? Oh I feel just fine for someone who just got shot at a half hour ago."
He noted that Helga was trying to use the same arrogance and bravado from before, but not being too successful at it.
Seeing her like this, Arnold's first impulse was to go to her and assure her everything would be okay, although he didn't understand why he felt such attachment to someone he barely knew.
But he had to perform his official duties first. He walked over to the cot and knelt down next to her. "I need a sample of your hair."
"What? Why" Helga asked, clearly confused.
"We need to check something. My master thinks he may know what's going on, and why you were able to stop that bounty hunter before . . . " He paused then, looking down a moment, and said, "Um, thanks by the way for saving me like that"
Helga looked at him a moment, and for a second, Arnold swore he saw her features soften a bit. But then she said, smirking, trying to sound superior again, "Hey that just makes the two of us even, bucko!"
Arnold sighed, so much for complements.
Helga pulled out a hair, wincing slightly. Then she handed it to him, brushing his fingers as she did so, which sent a jolt up her spine. Arnold felt the same thing, when her thin fingers brushed against his for that instant.
Arnold cleared his throat and blinked, then said warmly to her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Try to get some sleep, I'll be back later to check on you, I promise."
She scowled up at him and turned away from him to the window. "I don't need you to tell me what I need, 'football-head'."
Arnold sighed again, slightly annoyed and left the room.
Helga heard him leave, then turned back on her back and looked toward the doorway and smiled slightly.
In the cockpit a few moments later, everyone awaited anxiously for the text results which came in only a few moments later.
The results were unprecented.
"Would you look at that!" Stinky Kenobi said, astonished at the readouts. Arnold's own eyes widened in surprise as well. Both Li-la Binks and Sid 3PO exchanged a look of utter lack of comprehension.
"Even Master Phoebe doesn't have that high a count," Arnold said astonished. "Nor Master Gerald!"
"Yep," Stinky said, reaching the conclusion, "I reckon she could be as powerful with The Force as any Jedi Knight."
Arnold nodded, surprised and very nervous. How are they going to ever explain this to Helga? Would she even begin to understand? And what comes next for her?
About an hour later, aboard the Trade Federation Battleship, the new Viceroy Rhonda Gunray and her assistant Commander Nadine greeted the finally returning, and completely rusted bounty-
hunter, Harold Fett.
"Oh my gosh!" Rhonda said, turning her nose up at Harold. "That green outfit and that rusty armor! They clash! Nadine, call the fashion police droids and get him a ticket!"
"Oh, ha! Ha! Ha! Very funny!" Harold Fett said sarcastically. "That stupid Jedi and his tricks! They're gonna pay for knocking me into that river! When I see him again, I'm gonna pound him!"
A protocol droid walked in to address the viceroy.
"Viceroy, a black shuttle is approaching and request to dock immediately." The droid informed her, then even the droid looked unnerved when he added, "Darth Curly is aboard."
Rhonda blanched and waved the droid off. Together with Commander Nadine and Harold Fett in tow, she went down to the main shuttle bay to greet the Dark Lord of the Sith. The shuttle landed just as they made it into the bay. A flanking platoon of battle droids lined the walkway on the right of the shuttle, their weapons at present arms.
Slowly, the shuttle bay doors opened and Darth Curly strutted down the gang plank.
Rhonda and Nadine bowed, Harold Fett only inclined his head slightly.
Mentally, Viceroy Rhonda rated the Dark Lord's outfit in a very low category. Black boots, black robes, a black cloak, red lense eye wear . . . tacky. 'He could use a "Fashion Police" ticket too', She thought to herself.
"Lord Curly," She welcomed the Sith Lord formally. "This is an unexpected surprise. If we'd known you would be coming personally, we'd of . . . "
"You may dispense with the pleasantries, Viceroy," Darth Curly interrupted. "I am here to make sure that nothing gets screwed up . . . again." He added that last part menacingly at Harold Fett, who still didn't seem impressed, and scowled at the short, evil Sith Lord.
"Don't you worry about a thing, Darth Curly," Harold Fett said, "I'll catch them and make them pay for rusting my uniform. One good blaster shot should do it good. I can shoot a wamprat at more than 300 meters with a blaster pistol, did you know that?"
Darth Curly frowned slightly, "Don't be too proud of the meager skills you've been given with your little toy, bounty hunter. Skill shooting is an insignificant task next to the power of The Force."
Harold Fett snorted derisively at that, "The Force! Oh please! Spare me any more talk about The Force! I've had enough of that on the planet. Anyway, I don't see the big deal in . . . "
The Harold Fett began to choke, his hands went to his throat.
Darth Curly smiled slightly and mildly observed, "I find you lack of faith disturbing. Tisk Tisk."
Unlike Wolfgang, though, Darth Curly released the Force Grip and Harold Fett, fell to his knees, holding his throat, sucking in precious breaths of air.
Then the Sith Lord turned to Rhonda. "Did the ship the Jedi steal have a transponder?"
"Yes, my lord," Rhonda said, gesturing to Commander Nadine.
"We're tracking them, Lord Curly. We estimate that they will reach Coresaunt in a half hour." Commander Nadine told him.
"Good," Darth Curly said, "My master said they would be headed there. Keep track of them, but the Emperor's orders are to await on instructions, understood?"
"Yes, Lord Curly," Viceroy Rhonda said, bowing.
"Dismissed, I wish to be alone," the Sith Lord said walking toward the nearest viewport.
Then all bowed and turned to leave, Harold Fett still holding his bruised throat.
As she began to go through the door, Viceroy Rhonda suddenly felt something touch her backside that made her jump slightly. She glared back at Darth Curly, who just smirked wickedly at her in perverse amusement.
"Pervert," she said under her breath and walked out, Commander Nadine and Harold Fett behind her.
Darth Curly gazed out at the star filled space and smiled to himself. Aside from the setbacks, his master's plans were all going ahead splendidly. Soon, there will be a new Sith Lord, and the dark side will triumph.
'Soon,' Darth Curly thought, smiling a secret smile, 'I will have enough power to even surpass the Emperor and rule the galaxy.'
To Be Continued . . .