Star Wars: Rise of the Sith
Chapter 3
There's something on the review thing that says you have to be signed on to review my story, if anyone knows how to change it I would me most obliged.
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"We're here," Moria said in a sing-songy voice, and shook her friends awake. Nike sat up and rubbed her eyes.
"It's about time," she said as Ben yawned loudly and Sylor stretched, taking up a lot of space.
"It is about time!" C-3P0 said, "As soon as we get off of this retched ship we will contact your parents immediately."
"No," Nike said, "we won't."
"Yes we will!" The droid cried, "I was placed in charge and you all are to listen to me!"
"Unless you would like to become property of a Hutt," Ben said, "I suggest you shut up. Now let's go." The four humans and Zero headed out of the cargo ship.
"Dear me," C-3P0 gasped, and hurried after them.
They walked out of the spaceport, and into what seemed to be a whole new world. Everything seemed to be the same color, a light, dry brown, all sort of species filled the streets-humans being the minority by far-and small creatures scurried about, trying not to be stepped on by larger creatures. The group continued forward, passing many of the small buildings that were apparently shops.
"We're gonna need money," Nike said all of a sudden, "and I don't have any." She stopped and looked at the other three.
"Um…" Sylor said.
"This wasn't my idea," Ben said, holding up his hands. They all looked at Moria.
"It was a spur of the moment idea!" She cried. "I didn't even think about money." Ben and Nike moaned.
"Come on guys," Sylor said, putting an arm around Moria, "This is Mo's first rebellious idea, she doesn't know all the rules that go along with it."
"I guess," Nike said, "this just means we'll have to get jobs."
"If you all had only listened to me they we would not be in this predicament," C-3P0 said.
"We can sell Threepio," Ben suggested.
"Good heavens!" The droid cried.
"Naw," Nike said, "he's not worth that much."
"That's right, I'm not worth-WAIT ONE MOMENT!" The droid declared. The humans rolled their eyes and walked off as Threepio followed loudly. Nike led the way into one of the shops. It was cluttered with junk and pieces of speeders, starships and droids.
"Hello?" Nike called, hoping that there was someone there.
"Hold on!" A rough voice called. A moment later a fat Besalisk came walking slowly into the room. "Now, what can I do you for?" The creature asked.
"We were just wondering if you were hiring," Nike said.
"Well that depends," he said, "on how good you are at fixin' things."
"Well," Ben said, "if there's one thing we're good at, then that's it!" Nike turned and looked at him like he was crazy. She was just like her father when it came to fixing things, all curses and kicking, but at least good at it. Ben didn't know the difference between a wrench and a motor. Moria knew even less. Sylor on the other hand could give a hammer a power source and make it fly if he wanted to, being by far the most talented with the building skills.
"Well, I am short on droids this season," the Besalisk mused, "I could use some more help." He inspected the children, his gaze stopping on their belts where their lightsabers hung, an Nike's blaster. "Jedi?" He asked them.
"What makes you say that?" Ben asked.
"That's a Jedi's weapon is it not?"
"Oh, these old things," Moria shrugged, "found them."
"You found three lightsabers just sitting around?" He asked, not believing them.
"Yup," Sylor said casually. The creature looked at them uncertainly for a moment.
"You got names or what?" He finally asked.
"I'm Sylor Hall," Sylor said, "and this is my friend Ben Skywalker, his sister Moria, and his cousin Nike Solo."
"Well, it's nice to meet you all," the Besalisk said, "I'm Nord Clemrin." Since he had four arms, we was able to shake all the children's' hands at the same time, which Nike found a bit disturbing.
"So where are you all staying?" Nord asked.
"Um…" The children looked between each other, trying to find an answer.
"If you work for me," Nord told them, "then you can stay in the rooms upstairs and work off pay on 'em."
"That sounds great," Nike said.
"This way then," Nord said. Nike noticed that he swayed from side to side when he walked, the way larger people do. She also noticed that his butt crack was showing, which was most unpleasant.
"Alright," he said, stopping at the top of the stairs to look at them, "I have a few rules. You get up at sunrise everyday," Sylor tried to turn to leave, but Ben stopped him, "you do all your chores, don't worry you'll get paid. No loud noises after hours. You steal anything from me, just know that I'm in good with the Hutts, and lastly, boys stay in the boys room, girls in the girls, romance on your our time in your own house." Moria blushed deeply at this, and tried to hide her face behind Threepio.
"I have another worker here too," Nord told them, "he's of a strange sort so I wouldn't suggest messing with him."
"Got it," Sylor said. Nord nodded and led them down a very small, dusty hall that had three doors, one at the end of the hall, and two that were on either side of the hallway. The hall had a dusty floor, and even though it was inside, it looked as if it would fit just as well outside, and was hardly wide enough for Nord to fit down.
"This is the girls' room, this is the boys' room, the room at the end in the 'fresher and pot," Nord explained. It took Moria a moment to get what 'pot' meant.
"Okay," Nike said, and opened the door slowly. Inside there were three bed, a window, and some empty shelves. Decided that it was safe to enter, she walked in a dropped her stuff by one of the beds. Moria followed her in and shut to door.
"This is really weird," the younger girl said, her green eyes scanning the room as she twirled a curl of her red hair around her finger.
"Yeah…" Nike was quiet for a moment, and then suddenly took for the door.
"Where are you going?" Moria asked.
"Downstairs," the girl replied, "I want to look around this place a bit."
"Well wait for me," Moria got up and followed her cousin out. Downstairs was practically an exaggeration, seeing how there were only about five steps from the rooms to the store.
They took their own personal tour of the store. The front of the store had a bar-like table with seats along it for costumers to sit in. There were piles of parts on the shelves behind the table, and the rest of the room was filled with stacks of different parts. There was a back lot full of the bigger parts and a few banged up ships-or what was left of them at least. When they were done looking around, the girls went back into the front room, where Nord, the boys, and the droids were.
"Nike, Moria," Nord said, "you two are going to organize behind the counter. The boys are working on the pod in the back."
"Pod?" Nike asked.
"Yeah, pod racer," Nord said, but saw that the children still didn't know what he was talking about, "…for pod racing? You all really aren't from around here are you?"
"No," Nike said.
"Well, it's real big 'round here, all the best pilots in the area race in 'em, and everyone else gambles on them," the alien explained, "they're real fast, and very dangous." Nike took note that he left out the 'er' in dangerous.
"Can I do it?" Nike piped in. Nord looked at her and laughed, causing the girl to frown deeply.
"First off, there hasn't been a human pod racer in over fifty years, and secondly, you have to be an A-class pilot to even control a pod, much less race one," Nord laughed.
"Well then," Nike snapped, "it's a good thing I'm an A-class pilot."
"Sure you are kid," Nord said, shaking his head, "you just get to cleaning, Dame will be here soon with dinner."
"Dame?" The four children asked together.
"Someone call?" All heads turned their heads towards the doorway, as Damian Slayner stepped inside. "Hey, small universe."
"What," Nike cried, "are you doing here?"
"Hey, no 'thanks Dame for saving me life?" The young man asked with a smile. "That hurts, Miss Solo."
"Well good," Nike said dryly.
"Ah, so you all know each other," Nord said happily, "that's good."
"So you're the other guy in our room," Sylor said.
"Guess so," Damian shrugged.
"Well, Dame," Nord said, "you get started making dinner, I have to go to the cantina to um…do stuff, the rest of you do your chores."
"Sure thing," Damian said.
"You're cooking?" Nike asked, not seeing the picture.
"Yes," Damian told her, "I happen to know how to cook."
"But…you're a Sith!" She cried. In her mind she was trying to picture Darth Vader taking cookies out of the oven.
"And Sith I guess don't eat or something?" He asked her.
"Well…cooking?" She asked.
Damian sighed and rolled his eyes and said, "You're exasperating."
"So why did you come to Tatooine?" Sylor asked.
"Because I wanted to leave the Sith, and this was the easiest place to get to," he shrugged. "Just make sure you don't say anything about my last name, my father will be looking for me, it's Killrun now."
"Damian Killrun?" Ben mused over the name. "We should have gotten codenames." The other three rolled their eyes.
"Damian Killrun," C-3P0 said, "what an interesting name. I am See-Threepio, human cyborg relations, my vicinities include-"
"Yeah, yeah, great, so-" Damian interrupted.
"My goodness," Threepio gasped.
"-what are you all doing on this dust pit planet?" He finished, crossing his arms and leaning against the bar table, ready to listen and looking interested.
"Well," Ben said, "Nike's parents wanted to send her to boarding school on Coruscant, and they wanted to send us there too, with Threepio in charge, so we came here."
"You act as if I am some incapable bucket of bolts," Threepio complained.
"Well," Damian said, "nice story, short and sweet, but what made you pick Tatooine?"
"I had a feeling," Moria said, "like this was where we needed to be."
"Well," Damian put on a more investigative, thoughtful face, "how do you know it was the right feeling?"
"What?" Moria asked, "I don't understand what you mean."
"I mean, how do you know that this feeling wasn't just some kind of desire that you had, that seemed to be a good idea, and thus became a feeling?"
"Well, I-"
"Moria happens to be very attuned to her feelings and desires," Nike interrupted.
"Well I'm so glad she has you tell me these things," Damian said with a nod. Nike deepened her scowl.
"Actually," Ben said, "feelings can betray us, Nike, you shouldn't try to explain the Force when you know so little about it."
"I know what's worth knowing," Nike snapped, "but if you don't mind, I'm going to do my job." And then she stormed off.
"Is she like this around everyone," Damian asked, "or just me?"
"What are you talking about?" Sylor asked, "you haven't even seen her mad."
*~*~*~*~
Ten-year-old Reuben Whitewinger strode in step behind his Jedi Master, Kyp Durron, as they departed from their starship, and entered Calrissian Space Station. Reuben wasn't a big fan of space stations. Starships, starfighters, speeders, he was fine with those, but even after three years of being with Master Kyp, the third son of a Tatoonie moisture farmer was still overwhelmed by space stations.
Master Kyp must have sensed his uneasiness, because he stopped and turned to the boy with a smile on his face.
"You okay?" The man asked.
"Yes, Master," he replied, "it's just that…"
"You still haven't gotten over your fear of space stations," Kyp finished for him.
"I'm not afraid of them," Reuben said defensively, "I just feel safer when I can see what's going on around me. In these blasted contraptions I can't see anything but walls." Kyp smiled at his apprentice and shook his head.
"If you cannot see something, then feel for it with the Force, and it will be there."
"Yes Master," the boy said.
"Let's just go see why Master Skywalker called us here," Kyp suggested, and continued on his way. Rueben fell in step beside Kyp, and the pair made their way across the compound. The turbolift door opened, and Luke Skywalker came walking out.
"Kyp!" He said happily.
"Luke," Kyp relied, not as enthusiastically, but with a smile.
"And Reuben," the Jedi Master said, "you're growing like a weed."
"Don't lie Master Skywalker," Reuben said after a quick bow, "I'm small for an eight-year-old."
"Don't worry," Luke laughed, "you'll shoot up in a year or two and be taller then a Wookie."
"I'm still smaller then the twins, aren't I?" The boy asked.
"Only by a hair," Luke reassured with a wink. Reuben smiled, but as soon as Luke and Kyp had turned their backs, rolled his eyes, knowing good and well that Lane and Launie would be taller then him, even though he was one year older.
Reuben dismissed his thoughts and tuned into what the two Jedi were saying as they walked through the space station.
"I heard about the incident last week with the attack on the Death Star," Kyp told Luke. Reuben furrowed his brow, unsure of what his Master meant.
"You mean the incident with my children," Luke sighed, "Well, they've all been shipped off to Coruscant, they left just yesterday actually, tomorrow they'll be arriving. But that's not why I needed to talk to you."
"I didn't think it was," Kyp replied.
"The Jedi Consul have been calling all the Jedi to us," Luke explained, "to do different assignments."
"I know," Kyp said, "I am part of the Consul."
"I know," Luke said, "but I fear that the Sith may have plans that we are blind to. So we need some Jedi to go out on more dangerous missions. That is why I need your help. I have an assignment for you."
"Well I was hoping not to have to sit around the entire time," Kyp said with the slightest hint of sarcasm.
"I have sources who tell me of some sort of cloning happening on Hoth."
"Cloning?" Kyp asked.
"Not like the Clone Wars," Luke told him, "apparently, the Sith have somehow found a way to create replicas of both living and dead beings." Reuben wrinkled his nose is disgust.
"So what would you like me to do?" Kyp asked.
"I need you to go to Hoth and find out what exactly is going on."
"So we have to go to Hoth?" Reuben asked. He hated the cold, and from what he had heard, that was all Hoth was.
"Well, actually," Luke stopped, and turned to look at the boy, "Kyp will be going alone." Reuben raised one of his brown eyebrows.
"But I'm his apprentice," Reuben said. Although he didn't want to go to Hoth, he didn't want to be left out either.
"Yes, but I need you in the command room," Luke told him, "you'll be in there with Launie and Lane and I'll need you to contact me if anyone coms in with important news."
"Launie and Lane?" Reuben said weakly and a bit disgustedly.
"Yes," Luke said, not understanding why the boy was reacting this way, "I thought you were friends with them."
"I was," Reuben said, "but then they became girls." Kyp and Luke exchanged confused glances.
"Reuben," Kyp said, "they were always girls."
"Well I know that," Reuben groaned, as if Kyp and Luke were very dense and what he was saying made perfect sense. "Look, all Lane cares about are her cuticles, whatever those are, and all Launie does is daydream about who-knows-what. Last time I was with them in Coruscant, I spent two days with them in Nike's room while they talked about gross girl stuff and watched Nike do her hair. I can't take that again."
Luke placed a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. Kyp looked just as amused, but didn't bother to hide it.
"Come on my young apprentice," Kyp said as he turn to continue walking, "maybe you can help them see the light."
*~*~*~*~
Darth Sarleen Twi'blek walked briskly down the corridor that led to what the new recruits called, the thrown room. Sarleen had been one of the first to follow Reth Slayner in his pursuit of making a Sith Order. She had been only sixteen at the time, a slave dancer of Pheron the Hutt, when she had met Reth. He had apparently seen something in the purple skinned Twi'lek, and had offered to train her in the ways of the Force. At first she reclined, but after explaining to her that through him she could become the most powerful being in the galaxy, she became very interested in what he had to say.
Sarleen smiled at the memory of the early days of the Sith, back when Luther and Damian were only children, and there were a mere four other Sith.
Damian. The thought of him caused her to furrow her brow. Damian and Luther were twins. They were both excellent with lightsabers, both were fully attuned to the Force, both were smart, cunning, indepentdent, but there were two major differences.
Luther was a great pilot, and a great mechanic, but lacked any kind of social skills. Damian was by far much more talkative. His mouth never seemed to stop. Even when he was young he would analyze everything until you just wanted to strangle him. It wasn't just that he talked either, he debated, and not only did he debate, he was a very convincing debater. Sarleen could see him convincing a grain of sand that it was a boulder. But when it came to mechanics, he couldn't tell a power converter from a hammer if he tried.
And then there was flying. There wasn't anything on any planet in the universe that Damian was afraid of, but as soon as he got off the planet, everything changed. He hated flying. Actually, more then hated, he was scared of flying to a point where he would hyperventilate every time he got on a starship. He liked terra firma, and anything else he'd rather do without. This made the fact that he lived on a space station odd, but then everyone knew that he stayed far away from compounds and windows.
Or at least he had. Now the jerk had been missing for almost a week, and she was the one who was going to have to tell Reth that his son had apparently left the Sith. She wasn't sure why Luther could have done it, after all Reth would probably be less likely to shoot lightning at his son then he would Sarleen.
She entered into a large room that had a flight of steps that led up to a platform that stood in front of a huge window that looked out into space. There was a large chair in front of the window, the back of it facing her. She knew Reth was sitting in the chair, and she could feel him raking over her with his mind, she dropped down to one knee, in a highly respecting bow.
"You're here about Damian," Reth stated, it wasn't a question, he knew what was going on.
"Yes Master," she replied. "He's gone."
"Is he now?" The chair turned slowly around she looked upon the sinister smirk that was on her Master's face. He was dressed in a black suit, with a black cape draped over the sides of the chair. He had the same black hair as his sons, except for the gray at the temples, and that his hair was cut short, while his sons kept theirs longer. His blue eyes stood out against his pale skin. "Arise." Sarleen stood up and straightened.
"He has left the Sith then?" Reth asked.
"We are unsure on that matter, Master," she replied, "maybe he is out on a personal quest, but whatever it is, he left us no clue to where he was going." The Sith Lord sat back, seeming be registering this information.
"Take Luther," he said finally, "and the two of you will search for Damian. Luther will be able to sense his whereabouts better then I can. Now go."
"Yes, my Master," she said with a deep bow, and then left.
*~*~*~*
Jag Fel walked into the suite that he, Jaina and then twins stayed in while on the space station. There was one sitting room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom, not a lot but as much as they would need while in space. The girls' door was shut, with a big sign across the front that said KEEP OUT. As if some sign would stop him if he wanted to go somewhere in his own house. Suite. Whatever.
Jaina walked out of their bedroom, and looked thoroughly surprised to see him. Which surprised him since she normally was able to sense when he was around.
"Something wrong?' He asked, a bit amused with catching her off guard. She ran her fingers through her hair and heaved a sigh.
"Yeah," she said, "but I'm glad I caught you here, or you caught me here, we need to talk." Jag walked over a put his arms around her waist held her body against his. She rested her forehead on his chest and sighed.
"About what?" He asked. She sighed again and pulled away from him, walking over to sit on the sofa. He sat down in a large chair next to it.
"This is really not the time for something like this to happen," she told him. He raised an eyebrow, and took her hand in his.
"Are you okay?" He asked her, "you're not…sick or anything…are you?" A small smile crossed her lips and her brown eyes sparkled.
"I'm pregnant," she told him. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He just stared at her, his eyes wide and a confused look on his face.
"Jag…hello, anyone home?" Jaina asked.
"You're pregnant?" He asked. He then saw her eyes narrow and she frowned, apparently not taking his reaction that well.
"Well it isn't all my fault!" She snapped, and he was pretty sure he saw tears welling up in her eyes. She stood up to leave, but he was faster, standing up and darting in front of her.
"You mean I'm going to be a father?"
"You already are a father, dolt," she snapped. To her surprise he was suddenly laughing, and then he picked her up and twirled her around, and then kissed her shortly but fiercely. She smiled back at him, seeing how happy he was.
"I can't believe it!" He cried. "We're going to have a baby!"
"We've already had two," Jaina reminded, "for your information."
"Well yes, but those two are so strange," he said with a smile that brought butterflies to her stomach.
"I sincerely hope that you are not talking about us," two voices said as one. Jaina and Jag turned to see their two daughters, standing in the doorway, Lane with her hands on her hips, Launie with her arms folded across her chest, looking like a miniature Imperial pilot in that black suit she always insisted on wearing.
"Us? Talk badly of the sweetest girls on the space station?" Jag asked with mock shock.
"Please," Launie snorted. "So, Mom told you about the baby?" Jag looked over at Jaina.
"They knew before I did?" He asked.
"I didn't know they knew," Jaina said, looking at her daughters surprised.
"Of course we knew," Lane said, as if this were all stupid, "we felt her through the Foce."
"Him," Launie corrected snottily.
"Her," Lane fought back.
"Him, and what makes you think it's a girl?"
"Mom wouldn't bring another idiot into the world," Lane replied.
"Hey!" Jag said, offended.
"How would you two know what sex it is?" Jaina asked, crossing her arms.
"We don't," Lane said.
"But I get fifteen credits if I'm right," Launie said.
"Do you have fifteen credits?" Jag asked.
"No," Launie said, "which is why I'm hoping I'm right."
"Hey, happy family," someone in the doorway said. They looked over to see Mara standing there with a smirk.
"Hello Mistress Great Aunt Mara," Launie said with a bow.
"Hello back at you Padawan Great Niece Launie," Mara replied with a bow. "And you too Lane."
"Hi," Lane said, hoping that Mara wasn't here to talk about their training at all.
"I just came to say that there's a surprise for the girls in the command room," she said, and Jaina saw the mischief in her former Master's eyes.
"A surprise?" Lane cried, delighted.
"Is it big?" Launie asked.
"You'll have to go see," Mara said, and like a flash the two girls were gone. "And you two," the woman said with a nod in their direction, "Luke wants to see you."
"We'll be there in a minute," Jaina answered. Mara smiled at them, and then left.
*~*~*~
After a grand two minutes and sixteen seconds of organizing, Nike decided that her skills were better suited for fixing this pod-racer thing. So she headed out to the back lot, pulling her hair back into a tight bun and stopping only once to look in a small mirror and make sure her hair looked good, "how you look always matters, no matter where you are," as her mother would say.
"Where are you going?" She heard Moria ask, but ignored her and entered the back lot. If she had thought that the rest of the shop was messy, then this place was the equivalent of a Hutt's mucus. There were mountains of parts heaping up to be taller then the wall that surrounded them. There was a droids arm sticking out of what looked to be a reverse power cuplink, and how that happened she could only wonder. All the piles were pushed to the side to create a path through it all that was big enough for at least a few people. She made her way down the path and around one of the bigger piles to where Ben and Sylor and the droids were, along with what must have been the pod racer.
It was basically a cockpit with two cords in the front that each led to a separate engine. It seemed basic enough.
"So this must be a pod racer," Nike concluded.
"I guess so," Ben said, seemingly as unimpressed as Nike was, "it's kinda ugly though."
"It's not ugly," Nike said, "it's just junky, but you all are going to fix it up so that we can race it."
"What?" Ben asked. "Since when are we planning on racing?"
"Well, I'm planning on racing," Nike corrected, "that is if I can convince Nord to let me…"
"NIKE!" Ben cried, "Are you insame?! You've never even seen a pod race!"
"So? It can't be that hard," she shrugged, "and I'm small enough to fit in the cockpit."
"But you don't even know what a pod race is!" Ben declared.
"They can't be that hard to figure out," the girl said, waving her hand at Ben as if he were overreacting.
"Mistress Nike I must protest," Threepio said, "you were put under my supervision and I do not think it wise of you to-"
"Listen, Silverfoot," Nike said, holding up a hand asking him to shut up, "nobody cares what you think, so why don't you-"
"Listen here you intolerable, disobedient little brat!" Threepio's tone and use of words caught the three humans very much off guard. "I can tak a lot from you humans and I have for a long time, but I am NOT your droid, I am your mothers and you WILL listen to me because I have direct orders from HER!" The three children blinked.
"Wow Threepio," Sylor said, "you tell her."
"I was telling you as well," the droid snapped. Ben and Sylor laughed, causing the droid to shake his fist at them, "I will not be ignored!" This only caused the boys to laugh more.
"Look," Nike said, "I'll talk to Nord about it, I can convince him to let me at least try it out, once we get this thing fixed up at least."
"Pod racing is no joke," Damian said from behind. Nike turned to look at him.
"And what would you know about it?" She asked.
"A lot," he replied, "I've seen the races. People die."
"Yeah well, I won't," Nike replied.
"You shouldn't be so confident," he told her.
"If you're not confident you're a coward," she replied.
"Maybe, but if you're overconfident you're an idiot," he said back, "or dead. Besides, Nord would only let a very experienced pilot race his pod, and besides that, can you pay the entrance fee, or even bet anything? How will you get anyone to bet on you? Why would you need to race? You should consider all of these."
"Okay, they're considered, I still want to do it," she said. Damian sighed and she could tell he was frustrated with her. He shook his head solemnly and looked over at Ben and Sylor.
"Nord has returned," he said, "you might want to hurry with that pod because Sab'lou Morlowin is coming by later to look at it to buy."
"Buy?" Nike asked.
"Yeah, Sab'lou's the best pod racer around," Damian told her, "he's got enough money to buy any pod he wants and make it into a winner. Nord doesn't have anyone to race his pod so he's selling it."
"What?" Nike cried. "But I'll race it!"
"I don't think you're up to the demands of pod racing," Damian said.
"Oh really?" Nike snapped, "well I so happen to-"
"So what exactly is this conversation about?" The small group turned or looked up to see Nord, who had somehow walked over without anyone seeing.
"Nike wants to pod race," Damian said matter-of-factly.
"Oh do you now?" Nord asked, "I thought we talked about this earlier, humans don't do it, and even if they could, have you even seen a pod race before?"
"Well…no," Nike said, "but my Dad says I shouldn't knock something before I try it."
"Your father also said for you to go to Coruscant," Threepio muttered.
"Coruscant?" Nord asked, scratching his head, "didn't that turn into some kind of forest or something?"
"Are you talking about when the Vong took it over?" Ban asked, "then yes, it was pulled out of it's orbit and closer to the sun from what I'm told, but ten years ago or so we were able to pull it back into it's proper orbit."
"Yeah," Sylor said, "a lot of it's still covered into plants, but the Alliance is working hard to reestablish it to what it once was."
"Ah," Nord said, "guess I need to get out more. Anyway, pod racing is dangerous, even for the best pilots, I doubt you could do it."
"Here that Mistress Nike," Threepio said triumphantly, "you can not do it. Anyway, what would your parents think if you were hurt on one of those dreadful things? Or worse, what if you were killed? No, you'll stay right here on the ground until we can get transportation to Coruscant."
"Now I didn't say she couldn't, just that I doubt she could," Nord went on about having to see pilots in action and all that, while Nike reflected on what Threepio had said. Jaina and Jacen were war heroes, they had seen more action and adventure then Nike could dream of and although she had been told again and again that it was a hard life, it was what she wanted more then anything. To be a hero. To be a great pilot and do something great, anything great. But her parents made that dream impossible.
If Nike died then she had no idea what her parents would do. Probably stop worrying about her all the time, they could live at least a bit more peacefully. And then the thought hit her that it probably wouldn't hurt as much as losing Anakin, the brother she had never met. No one ever talked about him to her; she just knew he was a hero, a great young man and an awesome pilot, and would have probably been stronger then Uncle Luke.
She had always wanted to meet him. No one had ever said anything bad about him, when he was mentioned. For the longest time she had tried to become who her brother was, to take his place. She tried learning to fix things, and although she was good at it, realized that she didn't have the patience for that kind of thing. She had tried and tried to become a Jedi while everyone could only watch hopelessly as she tried to be someone she wasn't, trying to replace someone she couldn't.
It had finally hit her that she would never be a patient mechanic, or a great Jedi (or a Jedi at all), and so she had finally gotten away from her confused manner, and settled into the skin of the bossy, impatient, independent, pilot she was, and realized that that was who she was and who she wanted to be. And that was who her parents would miss if she died. She suddenly felt extremely guilty for being on Tatooine.
"Hey Solo," Nord said, snapping Nike out of her thoughts, "you in there?"
"Huh? What?" Nike asked.
"I asked if you wanted to just take a practice run on it," Nord explained.
"Oh I…" she paused, backtracking to what she had just been thinking about, "I don't know."
"Of course you know!" C-3P0 cried, "you're not going on that thing!"
"You're not the one to decided," Damian said, "Shorty here's gotta make her own terms. Although I think she's too scared." And then the thoughts exploded and her decision was made up.
"I'm going," she said, with a sharp look at Damian, "and I'm not afraid."
"Sure you aren't," Damian said with a smile.
"Well," Nord said, "as soon as ya'll fix this piece of crap you can do it, now get to work, Damian, go cook!"
"It's done," Damian said, "I think I'll help make sure Shorty doesn't kill herself when she gets in."
"Don't call me that."
"Sure thing Tidbit."
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