The Fett Dynasty, Episode II : Siege of Orri Prime

by Ivy Leigh

Coming down to the wire, folks- bear with me! Some questions answered, more raised...Major AU. Warning: adult themes, sexual situations, violence, language.

9. The Siege

UGH! FINISHED! FINALLY! (Collapses on her keyboard)

Thanks to everyone for your patience! This is my very first battle scene, so please, be kind in your reviews! I worked really, really hard for the past two months on this, writing and re-writing treatments and drafts, editing and re-editing, etc. and so forth. I really, really hope you all enjoy it!

Suggested listening while reading: "Duel of the Fates", TPM Soundtrack, and "Love Pledge and the Arena", AOTC soundtrack. Both pieces of music were a HUGE inspiration for me!

Enjoy!

Ivy

Episode 2

Chapter 8

The Siege

Orri Prime was the second planet from the sun known as Dia-Prishina, a medium-sized blue star that burned just within the Expansion Region at the Mid-Rim border. Around the planet hovered three small moons known as Criima, T'dosha, and Tarramin, with Tarramin being the largest. A veritable dwarf compared to the three gas giants that shared the system, the name "orri" was derived from an ancient Bothan word "aurriae", which, translated to galactic Basic meant, "pebble." When viewed from the cold vacuity of space, it was little wonder the Bothans used such a metaphoric moniker: A light, grayish-blue stone glistening at the bottom of a midnight pond, dotted with azure patches of fresh-water seas that nestled within its mostly mountainous terrain, swathed in a veil of white vaporous clouds.

Like most of the mining worlds scattered across the galaxy, the surface of Orri Prime remained mostly rural, save for a few pockets of civilization and industry built around its richest mining veins. But unlike such mining installations like Mimban and Kessel, Lady I'Lai strove to insure that Orri Prime's delicate eco-structure would not suffer from industrial expansion. During the last year since the emancipation of the slave miners, she had worked diligently with a carefully selected committee of urban planners and architects, which even included a surviving civil engineer from the galaxy's most ecologically minded planet, Alderaan. With virtually unlimited financial backing from Lady I'Lai herself, the committee helped transform the municipal landscape of Orri Prime's urban installations.

The destitute and poorly constructed shantytowns the miners had inhabited were torn down and replaced by solid and aesthetically pleasing townships with comfortably spacious homes, state-of-the-art medical facilities, and bright, airy public schools. Free commerce had replaced the late Grand Moff Denivrian's ration programs, and hence markets, kiosks, shops, taverns, and eateries had sprouted all up and down the newly paved streets of the planet's various townships. Designs and procedures regarding sewage, public sanitation, emissions and air quality were all carefully executed and monitored. And all mining operations were restricted to the strictest codes of safety, not only for the miners themselves but also for the environment in general.

But perhaps the greatest change could be seen in the Orrians themselves. Since Orri Prime had no indigenous civilization or intelligent life, the entire population was made of political prisoners and destitute refugees purchased by Denivrian to be slaves in his durasteel mines. Almost every sentient, oxygen-breathing race the galaxy had to offer was represented in the Orrian population: Humans, Rodians, Bothans, Wookiees, and so forth. Since most of the freed slaves had no one to call family and nowhere to call home, many opted to stay and partake in Orri Prime's rebuilding. While many stayed in the mines and enjoyed their new substantial salaries and benefits, others opted to start their own small enterprises, providing goods and services to the newly freed populace of Orri Prime. Mass media became available to the people for the first time, and soon almost every household had a holovid installed, making the holonet accessible to all. Children were no longer forced to work in the mines. For the first time, children of all races they were allowed to go to school.

On the day Lady I'Lai took position as Acting Governor and declared emancipation, she also declared that Orri Prime was no longer an autocratic dictatorship, but a democracy. Throughout the following months, the newly built townships freely elected magistrates, city managers, constabulary, and other public officials from within the former slave corps. And although the gubernatorial elections were only weeks away, there was a distinctive lack of candidates opposing Lady I'Lai, for the simple reason that no one had any wish to run against her.

Yes, Orri Prime was a vastly different world than it had been just a year prior. The Orrians no longer lived in fear, disease, starvation, or misery. They were becoming a strong, educated, self-sufficient, and humbly prosperous people.

Not one of those people suspected the menace that lurked just four kilometers within the atmosphere of the system's second gas giant…

Admiral Gilad Pellaeon stood in front of the massive viewscreen on the bridge of the Imprimatur, arms folded and jaw set firmly, watching Orri Prime's orbital activity with the same intense focus of a diamond cutter. Although the magnetic disturbance of Orri Theta's atmosphere caused the viewer image to fuzz and crackle, Pellaeon's experienced eyes peered through the static, allowing him to see the last of the morning's shipping freighters power out of Orri Prime's gravitational pull toward deeper space. This same experience also allowed him to ignore the sharp creaks and groans in the Imprimatur's hull, unsettling noises that did not go unnoticed by the bridge's younger and less experienced crew.

A particularly loud CRACK! caused Captain Rhys to roll his eyes nervously toward the ceiling bulkhead as he made his approach toward his superior officer.

"Sir," Rhys whispered hoarsely as he came up beside Pellaeon, "I feel the need to inform you that the atmospheric pressure of this planet is causing great strain on the hull."

"I am aware of that, Captain," Pellaeon replied collectedly, still monitoring the course of the departing freighter.

"But sir…we risk chance of a breech. If the Imprimatur's hull breeches, then surely— "

"And what do you suggest, Captain? That we fire the thrusters and ignite the entire hydrogen atmosphere? Besides incinerating this vessel into ash, I think it would also blow our cover rather well, don't you?

"There is always the cloaking device, sir—"

"Cloaking devices can only do so much, Captain. What good will jamming their sensors do if an X-wing pilot can merely look out his viewport and immediately report to Ground Control? We are in system now, too close proximity for a cloaking device." It was only then he turned to his younger officer. Unlike most high-ranking officers of the Imperial Navy, Pellaeon never let his experience feed his arrogance nor did he take the doubts or fears of his junior officers personally. He had great faith in Rhys's abilities, which was why he had suggested to Admiral Daala that they take the Imprimatur for this mission rather than his own Destroyer, the Chimera. He also understood that this was Rhys's first wartime command since his commission. "We will not be in atmosphere long enough for the hull to breech, Captain. The planet's rotation will carry us into the largest moon's gravitational pull. We will then lock the tractor beam onto the moon and lift out of the atmosphere, and from there we will embark when the timing is right."

Rhys simpered slightly and nodded, letting out a small sigh. Why hadn't he thought of that? "Of course, sir. Yes, sir."

"Always watch, Rhys, and never stop learning. Technology is merely a tool; it will never completely replace instinct or experience. That is the best advice I can give to any officer." He turned back to the viewscreen. "Dama Fortuna's status?"

"On standby sir, awaiting your orders."

"It has been made completely clear to Czethros that he stick to battle plan, with absolutely NO improvising?"

"Quite clear, sir," Rhys answered dryly.

"That goes for the pilots and the troops as well, Rhys. They are to target military and weapons installations only, and keep civilian bloodshed to a minimum."

The Captain knit his brows slightly. "Sir?"

Pellaeon turned slightly to his younger officer, his gaze as sharp as his tone. "This is an Imperial reclamation of one of its systems and not an act of revenge; hence I expect it executed as such." The Admiral's eyes turned pensive, and his voice lowered. "We are about to return a newly freed people back into slavery; I think that is punishment enough for the crimes of their governor without mindless slaughter to add to their woes, don't you?"

Rhys nodded once, swallowing hard. "Yes, sir. Understood, Admiral." He turned to peruse the viewscreen himself, and knit his brow again. "That's the last of the cargo freighters."

"Yes, Captain, it is."

"That means Orri Prime will be raising its shields, sir."

"That's exactly what we want them to do…"

* * *

It was just shy of noon on this day that started much like all the other days since Orri Prime's renaissance. Throughout the townships and ports, mothers had scooted their children off to classes, shifts changed in the mines, shops opened their doors and offered their wares, kiosks were slinging fresh bakery and mugs of caf to hungry citizens just going to and coming off work, and the ports had just cleared ore freighters for their early morning takeoffs. Friendly hellos and greetings were exchanged across the streets and walkways. Amiable disputes broke out about which team would take the galactic shockball championship that year. Elderly folks sat hunched over holochess tables in the bright late summer sun, chatting about the weather, their various ailments, and life in general…

In his residence in the Southern Hemisphere Security Headquarters, Lando Calrissian stood in front of his fresher mirror, thankful that his fever had finally broken while silently lamenting that his dashing, holovid-star good looks were still marred by his swollen cheeks and throat.

The buzz of the com in his living suite interrupted his bout with his bruised vanity. He strode out the fresher and hit the button. "Calrissian here."

"Baron, Captain Stitz here. The last freighter has just pulled out of orbit."

"Fine Stitz, go ahead and raise shields. Anything from Gen Corps in today's shipments?"

Stitz sighed on the other end. "No sir. No plasma generators so far."

"DAMN!" He winced, as the exclamation caused his swollen glands to throb. He lowered his voice. "Get them on the com!"

"Already did, sir. Now they say they're having labor disputes, and production has been shut down until talks between the guilds have resumed."

Lando groaned and slouched on his elbows over his desk. He was too tired, stiff, and achy to throw a tantrum. Instead, he fumbled with the cap on the bottle of pain relievers in his hand as he asked, "Anything on the screens?"

"Clear as a ilum crystal, sir. No stellar activity, save for planetary security. How are you feeling, sir?"

"Like the floor the morning after a Jawa's birthday party," Lando mumbled, popping a tablet into his mouth.

"That good, huh?"

"Mmm."

"When will you be back with us, sir?"

"I'll be back today, Stitz," he moaned as he straightened himself up. "Somebody has to clean up the mess you youngsters left during your little three-day vacation without me."

He could hear Stitz chuckle on the other end. "Glad to have you back, Baron. We've missed you."

"Sure you have. I'll be down in a few minutes. Over and out." Shutting off the com, Lando pulled his uniform jacket off the back of his desk chair and slid it on. He stopped at the wall mirror before going out the door, taking in one more sad, self-pitying look at his puffy face. "Morumka virus," he moaned through a thick tongue, gingerly touching a particularly swelled gland. He huffed irritably. "A kid's disease. What am I, seven years old…?"

Lando Calrissian wasn't the only one in the galaxy fretting in front of a mirror…

…………..

In a private antechamber located within the huge reception hall of the now newly established New Republic Senate on Coruscant, General Han Solo grimaced and huffed at his own reflection as well.

Irritably, he pulled at the high collar of the long, sumptuous robe he was being forced to wear, trying to lessen the weight of it on his neck. As he reached for the collar, the tight brocade waistcoat suddenly pulled up, causing his silk shirt to stick out over his waistband. He tugged it back down, only to have the robe fall down over his shoulder. Again, he reached for the robe, and again, the long frilly cuffs of his shirt he saw reflected in the full-length mirror made him want to rip them off and set them on fire.

Exasperated, he looked at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. "I feel like an idiot!"

"Well, you look like—"

He snapped his head over his shoulder. "Don't say it!"

"I was going to say," Leia continued, stepping behind and wrapping her arms around his waist, "that you look like a prince."

Han screwed up his face in a half-scowl, half-smile. "I guess you would know, huh?" He lifted his arms, heavy with the weight of the robe, and shook his head. "So this is what you nobles wear? It's so damn heavy—how do you get anything done?"

"We manage," Leia laughed softly, moving in front of him and adjusting his lapels. "Besides, nobility doesn't dress like this all the time, just for special occasions." She looked up at him with a mischievous glance. "I say today would count as that."

"Leia," he pleaded quietly, his eyes pitiful and hapless, "please don't make me go out there wearing this. I look ridiculous, it's just not me."

"I know—your idea of dressing up is fastening the top button of your shirt." Han slumped his shoulders and pursed his lips. Leia leaned into him, resting her hands on his chest. "Han," she assured him a soothing tone, "you look very handsome. Believe me, girls all over the galaxy will be swooning over you." She cocked her eyebrow. "Just what you've always wanted."

"Pfft, I don't care about that, sweetheart—I think you're mistaking me for Lando." They both laughed, and then Han shrugged. "I don't know why I'm getting so worked up, anyway. No one's going to be looking at me—all eyes are going to be on you." Gently, he took her by the shoulders and turned her around so she could face her own reflection. "Gods, Leia, you look so gorgeous," he whispered into her pearl-adorned hair. He couldn't help but smile. "Thank you for wearing this. I know you've had designers beating our door down to design you something for today—"

"I wore it for you, Han," she murmured, leaning her cheek onto his hand. "I know you like this dress." She lightly touched the gossamer sleeve of her white scoop-neck gown.

It was the very same dress she had worn at the Yavin victory ceremony.

However, as her hand dropped from her sleeve to slide across her slightly protruding belly and her eyes scanned the cleavage caused by her swelling breasts, she frowned a little. "Of course, it doesn't quite fit the way it used to. I had to let it out."

Han leaned his cheek into her head, meeting her gaze in the mirror's reflection. "I've never seen you look more beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, planting a soft kiss into her hair. Gazing into her husband's eyes, Leia recognized that the look Han was giving her now was the same exact expression he had worn that day when he first saw her in it. She stifled a laugh as she recalled how awkward he had looked standing there on the ceremonial dais on Yavin 4, nervously shifting his feet, unsure what to do with his hands, and looking utterly embarrassed in front of the entire Rebel assembly—quite a change from the swaggering, cynical, egotistical pirate she had thrown down a garbage shoot just hours earlier. Had it started that day? she wondered silently. Was that the moment I knew there was more to him than what he wanted anyone to know? When he winked at me…did he know what he did to me? Knowing him, he probably did…nerfherder.

It was then she suddenly realized she was making him go through it all over again…

She turned and placed her hands on his chest, intently looking into his eyes. "You're sure you're fine with this?"

"Kind of late to back out now, isn't it?" Han replied flippantly. "We've already paid for the catering."

"Han…!"

"I'm kidding," he soothed. He pursed his lips again. "Although, we've already had a perfectly good wedding. I don't see why we have to have another one."

"It's not a wedding, it's a reception," she corrected as she smoothed the velvet of his coat and picked off tiny strands of stray thread here and there. "And the citizenry demands it. The people were pretty much up in arms when we announced we were secretly married. They want us to make an appearance as bride and groom."

"And if the people demanded you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?"

"If it ensured public morale and confidence in the new government, yes, I would. But I'd grab you by the collar and take you with me." She smirked again as she brushed off his shoulders. "Besides, I would hardly call standing in the Falcon's cargo hold and exchanging a few words in front of Admiral Ackbar with a Wookiee, two droids, and my brother as witnesses a 'perfectly good wedding'." It was her turn to scowl. "I didn't even have a bouquet."

The little pout on her lip, the tiny whine in her voice, and the bemused look in her down-turned eyes did not escape Han's notice. He instantly caught one of her hands in his own and, when she looked up at him slightly startled, he leaned in to snare her eyes. "This reception was your idea."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said a little too quickly as she tried to pull her hand away.

Han wouldn't let her budge. "The 'people' demanded it, huh?" he drawled with jovial sarcasm and a raised eyebrow.

"Well…yes," Leia replied with just the slightest quiver in her voice. She shot him a quick glance before diverting her eyes to the floor. "Well, you saw all the holonet messages—"

"Funny, I don't remember any of those messages demanding that we throw a huge catered affair and invite hundreds of guests who will bring lots of gifts and have it broadcast across the holonet. Do you?" When Leia looked up at him with all the dignity and poise of a preschooler caught with her hand in the sweets jar, he snorted a laugh through his nose.

She jerked her hand from his grip and huffed through her nose. "Well, I am Acting President of the New Republic, and the only surviving member of the Royal House of Alderaan, and I'm pregnant with twins! If I can't have a royal wedding, the very least I deserve is a nice public reception!" This bit of reasoning only sent Han further into a fit of giggles. Leia stomped her foot. "What is so funny, Han!"

"Oh sweetheart, you are," he rasped in between hard-fought breaths. He attempted to contain himself when he saw the flush of anger rise from her bosom to spread to her face. "Leia…I'm sorry, but…sometimes, you remind me just how much of a princess you are." He suddenly winced. "Wait, that didn't come out right…"

"Oh, really?" she snapped through her teeth. "Fine. I'm changing my dress." She angrily turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"No, Leia, wait!" He sprang forward to try and catch her, only to stumble on the hem of his long robe.

She stopped and spun around in a huff. "I wore this dress just for you, nerfherder! But if all you're going to do is insult me and laugh at me, I have seven other dresses to choose from in my dressing room— "

"Leia, Leia, Leia, please," he half pleaded, half laughed as he regained his footing and moved toward her. Leia folded her arms, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes into a tight frown. Han breathed deeply in and let it out. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to laugh at you, OK?" Leia's scowl defrosted slightly. Han dared to tenderly cup her face. "Do you know why I forget sometimes that you were raised a princess?" Leia shot him a quick glance as she tightly shook her head. "Because when I look at you, I see a soldier who slept on a cot in an ice cave in the frozen tundra of Hoth. I see a commanding officer that survived on nothing but ration bars for months at a time, so her subordinates could eat the real food available. I see a leader who always put someone else's life before hers. And you sure as hell don't handle a blaster like a princess." He smiled when Leia's icy exterior actually cracked with a chuckle. "When I look at you, I see the strongest, most courageous woman in the galaxy. You've sacrificed so much, sweetheart, for so many. If anyone deserves to have a beautiful wedding day, it's YOU. You do deserve this." He sighed. "I'm just a little nervous, Leia. You know I've never been good in front of crowds. Being an ex-smuggler…well, you can imagine how I feel about appearing on the holonet for the whole galaxy to see."

Leia melted completely, running her hand on his. "I'm sorry, Han. You're right—I AM acting like a spoiled princess. I guess…I'm a little nervous too. And…a little sad." She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek into his chest. "I wish Bail Organa could be here today."

He drew her in close. "You know, sweetheart," he murmured into her hair, gently rocking her back and forth, "I've never been what you would call a 'spiritual' person, but…I like to think that maybe he is. And I think he is very, very proud of you."

They stood there for several long, quiet moments, still locked in each other's arms, until Leia softly broke the silence. "Han?"

"Hmm?"

"You can lose the coat."

"Ugh-- thank you!" he exhaled heartily, moving away from Leia, pulling off the heavy robe with great zeal and tossing it across the room.

The door chimed and Leia, still laughing, called out, "Come in."

The door slid open, and a ray of the high afternoon Coruscant sun blindingly glared off Threepio's newly polished golden metal skin—right into Han's eyes. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Yo, Goldenrod!" Han griped, raising his arm to shield his eyes. "Next time, tell them to lay off the polish a bit at the buffers, OK?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, well…I did want to look presentable for today," said Threepio as he glanced at his shiny arms. He turned his robotic glance back up to Solo and exclaimed jubilantly, "Oh, General Solo, you're wearing Hapian lace cuffs! Quite fashionable, you know, particularly amongst the cream of Coruscant aristocracy right now! I must say, you will most definitely stand out amongst the elite today! You may even end up in one of the fashion holozines—"

"That's it!" Han barked, throwing up his hands and glaring at the frilly cuffs on his shirt. "There's gotta be a seam ripper around here somewhere!" Grumbling in low Corellian, he marched over to the small utility desk and began rummaging through its drawer, looking for a cutting blade.

"Threepio," Leia sighed, trying to rub out the knot that was beginning to form behind her right eyebrow, "what is it?"

"Oh, yes, your Excellency. I merely came in to tell you that Master Luke has arrived."

Leia immediately beamed brightly at the news as she shot a glance to Han. Still rummaging, Han waved to her. "Go ahead, I'll be out in a second."

"Don't ruin that shirt, Han!" she warned jovially as she slipped out the door into the Senate reception hall.

"Oh…I won't…" he sang after her, making sure she was out of sight before pulling a pocket blade from inside his boot and ripping at the seams of the long, flimsy, embarrassing cuffs.

Leia came out from the short corridor of the antechamber, peering through the multitude of reception guests already arriving, searching for her brother. With her keen eyesight and a little help from the Force, she spotted Luke standing all the way across the massive and exquisitely decorated ballroom. Dressed in his dark formal Jedi robes, he seemed to be engaged in polite chitchat with Admiral Ackbar and General Rieekan. Graciously battling her way through the seemingly endless crowd with their seemingly endless supply of compliments and congratulations, she finally came upon the trio.

"It's too bad you won't be flying the formations with Rogue Group today, General Skywalker," she heard Rieekan say. "I know they miss you."

"Well, I'm sure Wedge won't disappoint the crowd," Luke replied warmly. "I hear he's been running some pretty intricate drills with Rogue Group since he was made Rogue Leader."

" 'Intricate' is an understatement," croaked Ackbar mirthfully, taking a sip of his specially mixed Mon Calamari seawater cocktail. "I never knew the new A-wings and B-wings could perform such tight maneuvers! That rascal Antilles is going to make us have to rewrite the training manuals!"

"Wedge is always a master of surprises," chuckled Rieekan. Glancing behind Luke, he raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of surprises…"

Luke turned around to see Leia smiling brightly. "Leia!"

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

Her answer came in the form of a tight, warm embrace from Luke. She hugged him back, then broke away. "General Rieekan, Admiral Ackbar! Thank you so much for being here today!"

"We wouldn't miss this day for the universe, your Excellency," Rieekan replied. He took her hand and kissed it gently. Straightening himself, he smiled. "You are absolutely stunning, Leia."

"I tend to agree, your Excellency," Ackbar piped in his endearingly gravelly voice. "Forgive me, however, if I don't mimic our dear General's chivalry. I wouldn't want to slime you."

They all laughed quietly before Rieekan said, "I'm sure these two have some matters to discuss, Admiral. Care to refresh our drinks at the bar?"

"Lead the way, Carlist! Your Excellency, General." Ackbar bowed his large salmon-colored head, then followed the General toward the long, gleaming bar at the end of the great hall.

Luke pulled his arm from Leia's shoulder to inspect her up and down. "Sister Skywalker, you look positively radiant."

Leia rolled her eyes and blushed prettily. "I look fat."

"Oh, stop it. You look wonderful."

"So do you." She smiled as she ran a finger through Luke's short blonde hair. "I like the haircut. It's about time."

"Yeah, well…personal grooming wasn't exactly a number one priority on a desert moisture farm. I was lucky if I got a haircut twice a year on Tatooine." His smile suddenly waned and a slight yet unmistakable brood came over his face at the mention of his homeworld.

She frowned slightly. "Something's on your mind."

"When isn't something on his mind?" came Han's voice from behind them.

Luke turned to greet his best friend, but was interrupted by Leia again. "And you're Force-blocking me," she whispered accusingly into his ear.

"Leia…" Luke breathed in soft exasperation. He met her eyes. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Not today, OK?"

She held his gaze sternly for a moment, but then admitted defeat. "OK."

"Glad to see ya, Luke!" Han exclaimed as he threw his arms around his young friend. He stepped back to inspect Luke up and down. "You clean up pretty good, kid!"

"So do you." Luke not only took note of Han's silk shirt (with conspicuously rolled-up sleeves), embroidered vest, velvet pants and the high, shiny boots they were tucked into, but also of his friend's utter embarrassment over the outfit. He tried to suppress his smirk. He failed. "New look for you, huh, Han?"

"Now don't you start with me, kid," Han warned with phony menace. "The second this circus is over, I'm changing right back into my blood stripes and my drinking shirt!"

"Which shirt would that be?" Luke inquired.

"ALL of them," Leia answered glibly, throwing a bemused glance sideways at her husband.

Just then, a young, slender, silver-haired woman came upon the trio, clutching a long, filmy white veil in her hand and wearing an expression of complete exasperation. "Leia," Winter admonished, taking in a deep calming breath, "The balcony ceremony and Rogue Group's air show is starting in just a few minutes! Will you PLEASE stop flittering around and let me finish dressing you?" She then shot her aggravated look toward Han. "And General Solo, Chewbacca absolutely refuses to come out of the fresher! I don't understand what he is saying, but from his tone, I gather he's not happy with his grooming!"

"Well, I TOLD you he wasn't going to like being poofed out like a noblewoman's pet felinx!" Han spat back. "He's a Wookiee, not a Nubian poodle!"

"HAN! WINTER! STOP!" Leia barked, raising her hands in a halting gesture. She turned to Han. "I'll get Chewie out of the fresher. He'll listen to me." She turned to her personal assistant Winter. "And while I'm doing that, you can put on my veil. All right?" Before either one could answer, Leia huffed and began to charge through the crowded ballroom with Winter, also huffing, close on her heels.

Han ran his hand through his hair as he turned back to Luke. "Are we having fun yet?"

"I am," Luke answered, still donning his smirk. "Speaking of fun, where's Lando? I haven't seen him, is he coming?"

"He can't. He's down with the gort. No space travel for a month, or his glands will explode."

"Morumka virus? At his age?"

"Yeah." Han snorted a laugh through his nose. "He holoed me yesterday. You should see him, Luke—he looks like someone beat him with a gaffi stick."

Luke didn't want to laugh at his friend's misfortune, but he couldn't help being amused by the image of Lando boo-hooing the assault his good looks were obviously taking. "I'm sure he's quite upset."

"You don't know the half of it." Han returned the nod and wave of a guest he obviously didn't know before folding his arms and shooting his friend a sidelong glance. "So…when are you going to find a nice girl and put yourself through this hell?"

"Han, I'm a little busy rebuilding an ancient galactic order right now. That'll have to wait."

"Come on, kid," Solo groaned good-naturedly, glancing slyly. "You may be a Jedi, but you're not a monk. Something soft and pretty must have fired your engines by now."

"If you mean what I think you mean, the answer is no, Han."

Han raised his brows. "Seriously?" He let out an incredulous whistle. "Are you even interested in anyone?"

"No," Luke answered quickly and bluntly.

Han couldn't pass up the opportunity to jibe his young Jedi friend a bit. "I dunno…I can think of a certain Force-sensitive lady governor who would make an good match for you."

Luke's expression darkened even more as he cast his eyes to the floor. Han drew his brows together, feeling that he had obviously hit on something in the kid. Taking in a deep breath, Luke merely replied, "She's my student, Han, and my friend. And she's older than me."

"Yeah, by four whole years."

"Another fact you seem to be forgetting; she's taken."

"Taken? Pfft, yeah, by who? That armor-shelled, bounty hunting twerp scum of the universe? You and I both know she deserves better. Besides," he added, donning his famous crooked grin, "I saw the way you looked at her when we were all on Orri Prime."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Han shrugged. "She certainly has that effect on people, doesn't she? I mean, she did when I first met her a few years ago—hell, I couldn't get her off my mind for weeks. And Lando's mooning over her like—"

"I said I don't want to talk about her, Han." Luke repeated emphatically, this time with an edge of warning laced around his tone.

Han stiffened, and furrowed his brow. "Kid, what's up? What's the matter?"

Luke raised his crystal blue eyes to meet Han's hazel ones. "I…I can't tell you right now, Han," he said simply. "Let's just leave it at that."

"Sure, Luke," Han agreed softly, more concerned than hurt by Luke's behavior. Something was really bugging the kid, there was no question about that…

The awkward silence between them was interrupted by the fanfare struck up by the band. The crowd of guests parted away from the center of the ballroom as President Organa strolled toward Han and Luke, her long white veil pinned around her upswept, pearl-laden chestnut hair, and a sumptuous bouquet of pink and lavender Aldeeranii bridal orchids cascading over her arm.

All the tension, nervousness, insecurity, and dread concerning the public ceremony melted out of Han as he watched Leia glide toward him, an exquisite vision in white, smiling radiantly. The throng of guests seemed to agree with Han's appreciation, for a hum of gasps and whispers washed over the reception hall. Han stepped forward to greet his Princess. She slipped her small hand into his, and he brought it to his lips, never taking his eyes off her. The crowd's whispers escalated into applause and cheers.

Smiling broadly, he leaned into Leia's ear. "I stand corrected, your Worship. This was a good idea."

Leia said nothing, but merely shyly dropped her head, that pretty blush Han found so endearing rising again to warm her cheeks.

The couple suddenly found themselves unceremoniously grabbed by an arm and forcefully turned to face the staircase leading to the hall's grand balcony. "All right—your Excellency, General Solo, you'll step out first," ordered Winter. Like a silver-haired dervish, she nimbly spun around the couple to grab Luke and pulled him into his position. "General Skywalker, you'll flank behind the President. And Chewbacca… CHEWBACCA, please!" With absolutely no fear, the lithe young woman clamped her hands firmly on the arm of the newly shampooed, dried, combed, and all-around aggravated and embarrassed Wookiee lurking behind them and hoisted him into his position behind Han. "You'll flank behind General Solo." She turned and motioned to Admiral Ackbar and General Rieekan to come toward them.

Still holding Leia's hand, Han turned his head over his shoulder at his first mate. "Aw, come on, buddy! I don't know why you're so embarrassed. You look as pretty as a Arisand daisy."

*Don't start with me, cub,* Chewbacca growled from deep within his throat. The growl instantly became a laced with what could only be described as humor as he glanced Han up and down. *By the way, did you ever get the name of the waiter you mugged for that outfit?* Leia clenched her lips and snorted a laugh through her nose; over the years, she had picked up enough Wookieese to understand Chewie most of the time.

Before Han could fire off a well-aimed retort, the massive glass doors atop the staircase swung open, and the hall was filled with the deafening cheers of hundreds of thousands of Coruscant citizens and tourists gathered on the streets below.

Leia took a deep breath, and squeezed Han's hand. "Ready, nerfherder?"

Han mimicked her breath and straightened himself up. "Lead on, your Holiness."

The couple, hand-in-hand, began to ascend the gleaming marble staircase in perfect step, the afternoon Coruscant sun silhouetting them against the sky of amber. As they came upon the final stair and walked out onto the enormous balcony, the cheers of the on-looking multitude exploded into the sky.

Chewbacca stepped out next, albeit rather reluctantly, waving to the crowds with one paw while desperately trying to smooth down his fluffy pelt with the other.

Then, just when everyone thought the crowd couldn't possibly get any louder, Luke Skywalker stepped forward. As he slowly, almost shyly, came along side Han and Leia, the very air seemed to detonate with the elated screams, whistles, and singing of the peoples below them on the airstreets and around them leaning out windows and over balconies. In addition to their joyful noise, the ecstatic masses waved homemade banners, flags, ribbons, and threw bouquets of flowers. From above, white petals snowed down on them, lightly tossed from the smaller balcony above by two lovely, cherub-faced little girls.

Luke smiled simply and waved dutifully if unenthusiastically to the cheering throng. Occasionally, he would glance over to Leia, who met his glances with a dazzling smile and a wink. The grip of guilt tightened in his gut; he felt ashamed that he was shielding himself from her, but…he absolutely would not cause her any worry or distress on this day.

As General Rieekan and Admiral Ackbar joined him on the balcony, he nodded to them almost absently, as his thoughts kept spiraling back to the eyes of a lovely young woman he saw mirrored in the hologram of his lost, beloved Master…

* * *

The object of Luke's musing sat on a blanket in the middle of the clearing just south of her palace on Orri Prime, dealing with raging thoughts of her own.

I'Lai pulled at the wide brim of her sunhat, shielding the noon rays from her eyes as she took in a slow, deliberate breath. Eschewing the usual loose fitting yet elegant gowns she normally wore around the palace, she had changed into a waist-length wraparound crimson tunic and tan trousers that were tucked into soft, knee-hi suede boots. It was a mild day, with a soft breeze blowing down from the mountains, bringing drier, cooler air into the valley of her vast estate as well as the fragrance of the wildly blooming mountain flowers.

Nikoa was right to suggest this, she thought, I needed some sun and fresh air. Perhaps this will calm my nerves a bit…

But she found her thoughts trickling back to the holo-conversation earlier that morning with Luke, and she found her ire rising again. Maybe I should come there, he says. For what? Involuntarily, she clenched her fist. I swear, he treats me like some fragile, incompetent child! When are we going to further my training? I'm growing tired of levitating vases in the air! And when am I going to heal a real injury? He knows I can do more! I'm beginning to think he is jealous of me! I've already proven I can do things he can't, haven't I? Maybe I am stronger than Luke Skywalker…Maybe he is holding me back!

And now Leia is pregnant? A bitter, sardonic smirk marred her lip. Why doesn't that surprise me? She certainly wasted no time, did she? No, we certainly can't have a lowly concubine steal our glory, can we, Princess? I heard her voice on the comlink after the battle of Endor; I heard how peevish she sounded when Han was talking to me! She's jealous of me too! Jealous of my stature, my looks, my power…Something very deep and very dark stirred within her as she trailed a fingertip slowly, almost seductively from her chin down her throat…Han wanted me first, I could tell by the way he looked at me all those years ago…if things had been different, if I hadn't been so foolishly, blindly loyal to my dead master…I would have graced that handsome pirate's bed…and given him pleasure that he had never known before…

She abruptly shut the thought down with a shocked gasp, and rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand. "By Force," she whispered raggedly, "how could I think such things…"

Her eyes snapped up when little Kai bellowed a happy baby yelp. Giving her a wide toothless grin, he reached toward her with both chubby arms "GAH!" he shrieked.

I'Lai smiled, thankful for the interruption. "What is it, sweet pea? Do you want something?" Her smile faded as she looked at her son, wearing his own floppy little sunhat, sitting up on the corner of the blanket. Kai had learned to sit up on his own. And Boba had missed it. What else will he miss? His first steps? His first word? Is this the way it's going to be for the rest of Kai's life? For the rest of mine…? Gods, where is he?! Why won't he tell me?! Why won't he trust me?!

She dropped her head down into her balled fists as she fought against the rage building up inside her once again. No, stop it, stop it, I'Lai! This is not the time…play with Kai…

She glanced around the blanket, picking up a little stuffed Ewok toy laying beside their picnic basket and showing it to Kai. "Do you want this, honey?" she sang-songed, dancing the toy back and forth in the air.

"BRAH!" Kai yelped again, holding forth his arms…

The toy Ewok suddenly became airborne, jumping out of I'Lai's hand and arcing lightly through the air right into the tiny hands of the giggling baby boy.

I'Lai's jaw dropped as she attempted to compute what had just happened. "Kai…" she stammered, "did you just…?" She instantly sprang to her feet and scooped Kai up, holding him above her head as she spun around. "Kai, you used the Force! You used the Force…" Her laughter began bright and musical, but soon escalated into peals of glee laced with the disturbing tinkle of madness…

"You are powerful, aren't you, my son?" she whispered breathlessly, boring her eyes into his of the same hue. Kai suckled on the cloth hood of the Ewok toy, but stared over the toy into his mother's eyes with the same intensity. I'Lai fell to her knees and carefully sank onto her back, cradling Kai to her breast. She stared into the cloudless azure sky. "We don't need them, do we, Kai? We don't need any of them…" She lifted Kai off her chest, holding him in front of her eyes. "Just you and me, right?" She lowered him back to her chest, stroking his little head, her eyes rolling back into her head, repeating herself over and over in a low, breathy mantra, "Just our power alone…just us…just all of us…"

………………

Yes, beloved…all of us…

His entire body shook with the sheer intensity of the power he pulled into himself. A thin sheen of sweat glistened over his tattooed skin. Even after the decades of practice, the shielding, the energy manipulation, the astral projection, and all the other aspects of his dark craft caused him to quake…

Naked and kneeling on the jutting platform of the black, bottomless cavern, he clasped his hands above his horned head, setting the vision in his mind's eye and rasping the words, over and over…

"Sei'ta eussna tiaama di ne…Kun eussna tiaama uta'na i'lai…naashaa…naashaa…"

The vision of his Sith Infiltrator sharpened clearly in his mind. He shook and trembled even more violently as he ignited the engines with the brutal force of his will. He watched it lift from its bay, the repulsor exhaust blowing the black sand around it into vicious funnels.

Bring them to me.

The ship rotated in the air, its spherical nose ascending toward the blood red sky. The engines glowed from iced blue into crisp scarlet…

He snapped his body up and threw his fists down, a low, masculine scream bursting from his throat—

And the ship ripped into the red sky, exploding out of the stratosphere and immediately jumping into hyperspace toward its destination, Orri Prime.

He fell back onto the cold stone slab, his painted chest heaving with every hard-fought breath. He closed his eyes, and prepared to witness the pageant unfold, now that the players were all in place…

* * *

"Sir," announced Captain Rhys from the bridge's navigational console, "we are coming out of atmosphere."

"Give order," Admiral Pellaeon ordered, still focused on the viewscreen.

Rhys nodded, and repeated the order through the comlink.

That order, words and voice disintegrated into nothing more than electronic signals, crackled and danced through the ions of the Imprimatur to settle directly into the earpiece of an adrenaline and ryll-hyped Bothan.

"WE GOT THE SIGNAL!" Jober roared from his pilot's seat.

Czethros slammed his fist into the arm of his captain's chair. "Let's start this party, boys! MOVE OUT!"

The explosion from the Dama Fortuna's thrusters as she shrieked out of the Imprimatur's ventral bay could only be rivaled by the uproarious fervor of Czethros's three-dozen mercenaries onboard. With armor on their backs, blasters in their grips and ryll in their blood, the nefarious crew of aliens and humans whet their anticipation for conquest by hurling each other into the bulkhead within the hold, cracking their skulls together in bouts of head-butting, howling like beasts descending on a fresh kill, and passing around loaded hypos of ryll. The friction of the gaseous atmosphere crackled around the hull as they hurled out into black space…

"Will you all shut the fuck up!" Czethros barked. "Gods, a man can't hear himself think…"

"We're coming up on coordinates, sir," Jober informed.

"Kill engines, and put out signal." Czethros, dressed in his custom-tailored black leather flak suit, motioned to Trodeccu the one-eyed Wookiee to come closer. "Go get Thutchen."

Trodeccu's lips curled in a malicious smirk as he bowed his charcoal-hued head and lumbered through the ongoing chaos toward the storage bin where Burl Thutchen was being kept.

………………

"Green Five to Green Leader, do you copy?"

The X-wing pilot known as Green Leader hit his com. "Copy, Green Five. What is it?"

"Sir, I'm getting a distress signal! Seems to be coming just shy of the Orri Omega gravitational pull."

Green Leader knit his brow. "Sensors picking up anything?"

"Negative, sir. The atmosphere may be interring with the readings. Permission to check it out?"

"Permission granted. Green Two, accompany Green Five and report."

"Right-O, sir, " Green Two chattered her acknowledgement, veering her X-wing in a graceful arc to follow her fellow pilot toward the hulking gas giant known as Orri Omega and leaving the other three X-wings now orbiting Orri Prime…

………………..

"Friend Thutchen! Glad to have you back with us!" Czethros bellowed heartily as Trodeccu pushed a very bleary-eyed Burl through the armor-geared crew of mercs onto the bridge.

Squinting, Burl raised a hand to his head still throbbing from the after-effects of the powerful sedative he'd been given. "Where… where are we?" he mumbled.

Czethros rose from his chair and stepped onto the floor. "We're bringing you home, son! Just as I promised." As he stepped toward the groggy miner, he placed a leather-gloved hand upon his shoulder, and sighed insincerely. "Alas, as much as I have enjoyed your company these past few weeks, it is time for us to part ways. I certainly hope you have enjoyed yourself but, as they say, all good things must come to an end…"

Burl's vision cleared enough for him to notice the armor everyone was wearing, and the blasters, autocannons, and other various weaponry strapped to their arms, backs, and thighs. A feeling of sick began to rise in his gullet as the realization began to take hold of his mind… "No…NO!" Pushing Czethros's hand away, he stumbled toward the viewport. There, slightly off the arced curve of the red-hued gas giant known as Orri Omega, he saw Orri Prime glimmering tranquilly off in the black distance.

He spun around, mouth agape, limbs shaking, and hands clenching into fists. "NO!" he shouted hoarsely at Czethros. "You promised! You said you wouldn't hurt her! You said if I told you everything I knew about Boba Fett, you wouldn't hurt Lady I'Lai!"

A dubious sneer formed from under Czethros's bionic visor, and his voice practically bubbled with incredulous laughter when he replied, "I lied, Burl." The menacing guffaws of the killers surrounding him joined in his growing laughter.

The illness that had started to turn Burl's stomach was replaced by nothing less than raw rage. His fear slipped away, and every muscle in his bulking body ignited—and with the speed of a man half his size, Burl suddenly lurched forward and, before any of the mercs could stop him, grabbed Czethros by his throat and thrust him off the floor, screaming, "You won't touch her! I'll kill you, you son of a whore! You leave them alone! LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

Dangling in the air and choking for breath, Czethros grabbed at Burl's meaty hands, furiously kicking at the miner's legs and belly. In his rage, Burl felt none of the kicks as his hands squeezed even tighter around Czethros's throat—

Nor did he hear Splitter the Snivvian race up behind him. Launching himself from the deck, the small alien landed on Burl's back, grabbing a handful of his hair and, with a bone-numbing screech, drove the tip of his vibro-blade deep into Burl's throat and sliced it across.

Blood spewed out of the wound and down Burl's throat. He fought to maintain his grip on Czethros, but to no avail. Gurgling and fighting to breathe, Burl released his death grip and sank to his knees, bringing a hand to his neck. Czethros stumbled back, catching himself on his chair and gulping in mouthfuls of precious air. Sinking even further toward the deck, Burl bowed his head as the tears sprang from his eyes. "Oh gods, what have I done…" he sobbed quietly between hacking coughs strewn with blood and spittle. His head spinning, blood cascading down his shirt… "I'm so sorry, Lady…"

Having regained his breath, Czethros gritted his teeth, lunged forward, and mercilessly kicked Burl in the face. Burl careened onto his back and landed with a THUD, the tears still streaming from his eyes as he felt his life ebb away.

In rage, Czethros's spun around toward Trodeccu. "Get this piece of shit off my ship! SPACE HIM!"

Ca'ckalo the Aqualish sprang out of the co-pilot's chair to grab Burl's arm while Trodeccu grabbed the other. Roughly, they pulled the near-dead miner through the ship to the hold, where they opened an airlock, hurled him into it, closed the hatch, and pulled the release lever.

…………..

Pellaeon watched the X-wings grab the bait. Snapping his head toward his captain, he barked, "Launch destructor drones now!"

"Yes sir!" Rhys barked into the com, "Launch destructor drones!"

From out of the miniscule silos punched into the hull of the ship spewed dozens of tiny, black, oval-shaped droids measuring less than a meter apiece. Hurling directionless at first, they suddenly all sparked their tiny engines at once and began to pair up in the blackness of space—the pairs then shot forward toward Orri Prime's stratosphere…

…………….

As the two X-wings flew closer to Orri Omega, Green Two checked her sensors. "Green Five, I'm picking something up here…this is weird…it's coming up bio-organic."

"What? Lock on it, and get in closer, Green Two. See anything?"

Green Two switched her attention from the sensor screen to her viewport, squinting slightly. "Yeah, I see something…getting in closer…" The pale speck floating in the blackness before her grew larger and identifiable in her window, and her eyes widened in horror as she hit the com again. "Green Five, it's a BODY! Human, male!"

"Green Two, attempt to retrieve! I'm coming up on the ship, opening hailing frequency…"

…………..

Czethros leaned against the back of Jober's pilot seat, intensely watching the lone X-wing draw near. Jober watched as well, his grip shaking just slightly in anticipation as he clutched the cannon control…

Green Five's voice crackled over the com. "Vessel, this is Lieutenant Crill of Orri Prime Planetary Security. Are you in need of assistance? Respond."

"That's it," Czethros whispered, "just a little closer…"

"I repeat, this is Lieutenant Crill of Orri Prime. Do you need assistance…?"

The blip representing the X-wing on the targeting sensor drifted into firing range—

"Jober, NOW!"

Jober's itchy trigger digit finally found relief. With a sharp pull of the trigger, the Dama Fortuna's two belly-mounted cannons hummed and whirred and launched two proton torpedoes. Green Five never had a chance to respond before the first torpedo ripped through the nose section while the second blasted through the engines.

The resplendent explosion flared through Green Two's portside view. "CRILL!" she screamed, banking her X-wing hard and racing toward what was left of her comrade. She slammed the com in her helmet with her palm. "Green Leader! We are under attack! Crill's been taken out—"

"Copy, Green Two! We're on our way!" Green Leader's voice crackled through the com just as Green Two came upon the Dama Fortuna's starboard side…

"TAKE HER OUT!" Czethros ordered.

Upon hearing the command from his seat in the top-mounted gunner, Splitter ran his dark tongue across his broad fangs and hit the trigger—

And the red laser hit directly under the X-wing's pilot's seat, exploding the craft into jagged chunks of metal, plasteel, and cables.

A malicious cheer broke throughout the vessel as Czethros plopped himself into his chair. "Jober, take her in!"

Jober hit the thrusters, and the Dama Fortuna broke forward at full sub-light speed toward the three X-wings hurling toward them…

………………

The Imprimatur's navigator spun his chair to face Admiral Pellaeon. "Sir, we've cleared atmosphere!"

Simultaneously, Captain Rhys announced, "The Dama Fortuna has engaged, sir! Two direct hits! Remaining X-wings en route!"

Pellaeon stepped off the viewport dais and strode toward Rhys at the command console. "Take us into Orri Prime orbit! Launch first wave TIES now!"

"Yes, sir!"

As Rhys repeated his order to the launch bays, Pellaeon turned his attention to the tactical officers guiding the destructor drones. "Lock drones on targets and engage beams!"

………………

"It's coming at us, sir!" Green Four shouted through the com. "Correllian D-6, modified, top and bottom mounts!"

"Four, keep 'em in your field! Three, get around their bow and target engines! I got 'em from the front—"

"Kiernan!" shrieked Green Three through the com, "Starboard side, Imperial TIES coming straight at us!"

And thus the first squadron of TIE fighters, scores of them, sleek and deadly and all too familiar to any Alliance X-wing pilot, spewed forth from out of the Imprimatur, careening around Orri Theta's second moon. They sliced like blades of vengeance through the black void, some spiraling toward the sphere of Orri Prime while thirty more surrounded and descended upon the three hapless X-wings…

"SITH!" exclaimed Green Leader, "It's a trap!"

He pulled up hard on his ship's controls, arcing the nose straight up as he hit the thrusters with his foot and the com with his other hand. "Green Five, Green Two, move out, move out! Don't take them on!"

"Kier, there's too many—I can't—AAAGGGHHH!"

The crisp silhouettes of the oncoming TIE fighters flashed briefly against the explosion of Green Three's X-wing that flashed into Green Leader's rear view.

Green Leader banked the throttle down hard as the TIES' lasers sparked all across his viewport, only to find four more TIE fighters coming in directly below him. He was done for. "Green Leader to Ground Control! Green Leader to Ground Control! We are under attack! We are under —"

Green Leader's last signal crackled through black space just as his X-wing disintegrated under the barrage of Imperial fire, making its way to the com satellite that would alert Ground Control…

That signal, like Green Leader himself, was doomed.

The first pair of sleek destructor drones came up upon the satellite, they widening the space between them, allowing enough room for the satellite to slide in. Even before they had reached their mark, an concentrated ray of white-hot yellow energy shot from each side of the drones and, as they made their pass on either side of the satellite, blew it with a brilliant white explosion into space junk.

All around the globe, the dozens of other pairs of destructor drones made their way to attack all the other surveillance and communication satellites that dotted Orri Prime's orbit in the same manner…

………….

The words, "We are under—" sparked through the speaker before they were zapped into nothing but static.

Ralan Stitz stepped out into the corridor from the break room, two steaming mugs of caf in his hands, just as Lando Calrissian came through the front entrance of The Southern Hem Security HQ.

"One of those better be for me," Lando grumbled.

"But of course, Baron." Stitz raised one of the mugs toward his commanding officer, trying unsuccessfully to squash the amused smirk spreading across his mouth upon seeing Lando's swollen jowls and throat.

Irritably, Lando snatched the mug from his hand. "Don't start, Stitz."

Stitz raised his brows in feigned innocence. "Sir?" With that, he could no longer hold his humor, and a snorting giggle escaped his nose.

Lando rolled his eyes and stomped down the hall toward the Con Center, with Stitz immediately flanking his left. "Status?"

"Nothing to report. All clear so far, sir."

Lando turned into the Com Center's door and strode toward the door of his office when he glanced up at the surveillance screens. "Are you aware that S-Three is out?" he muttered as he entered his door.

"It is?" Stitz walked toward the console and, just as he was about to adjust the satellite's controls, another viewer suddenly sparked into static. He knit his brow. "S-12 just went out too."

Lando was just about to seat himself when he stopped in mid-motion. Concerned, he came back around the desk, re-entering the Com Center. "What's going on? Meteor shower?"

"I'll check." Stitz turned to the sensor screen "Sir, sensor's not picking up anything," he said, worried. Just at that moment, three more viewers zapped out.

"What the hell…?" Lando breathed, dread beginning to creep up his spine. "Get Green Leader on com."

"Yes, sir." Stitz jumped into his chair, sticking his earpiece in with one hand while hitting the com with the other. "Green Leader, this is Ground Control, do you copy?" He waited for a few seconds before repeating, "Green Leader, do you copy?" Still nothing. "Hello? Anyone…?"

Meanwhile, Lando furiously manipulated the controls of the remaining satellites, trying to get a clear view of the system's activities. His eyes darted back and forth across the remaining screens, until his attention focused solely on one screen. There, he saw the trademark wing panel of a TIE fighter skim across the screen—

"GOS AND HELLS!" he shouted, "IMPERIALS!"

"But sir, that's impossible! Green Squadron would have surely reported it—"

"And where's Green Squadron now, Ralan? Have they answered your hails?" Lando ran a furious hand through his hair, and clenched his jaw. "They're dead." He shot his glance back up to the screen he had just viewed, only to see that one give out, too. "What the hell weapons are they using that they don't show up on the sensors…?"

………….

"Coming up on the third moon now, Boss," Jober barked.

"Jober, get in front of that satellite before the drones take it out," Czethros ordered, a mischievous smirk playing across his lips.

Jober grimaced. "Pellaeon's not gonna like this, Boss—"

"FUCK PELLAEON" the Supreme Vigo roared. "Just do it!"

With a roll of his eyes Jober obeyed, cutting a path in front of the oncoming drones…

Czethros leapt from his chair as he bellowed, "FLY THE COLORS!"

Ca'ckalo punched the control on the console, and the holographic image shot out of the projector mounted just below the top gun, hitting the satellite's cam directly in the lens…

……………

Pellaeon slammed his fist into the navigational console as he watched the Dama Fortuna on the viewscreen. "Gods dammit, what the hell does he think he's doing! He's just alerted their security forces! Now they know we're here!" Realizing he was about to lose control, the Admiral straightened himself up and took in a deep breath. "Captain Rhys."

Rhys snapped to attention beside him. "Sir!"

Tugging his jacket down by the hem, Pellaeon turned to his officer. "When Czethros has handed over the traitor Lady I'Lai," he commanded with a sharp undertone of malice in his hushed tone, "you will bring him to my ready room…where I will have the distinct pleasure of executing him MYSELF."

……………….

The hologram projected from the Dama Fortuna showed bright and clear in the one of the three remaining working viewscreens; a brilliant graphic displayed against the cold black of space, the hologram depicted a solid circle surrounded by another circle, barbed with points that reached out like the rays of a sun…

The color drained from Lando's face as he glared at the hologram. "You sons of bitches," he growled dangerously, his fist clenching tighter with every passing second. "You teamed up, didn't you? You couldn't do it alone, so you teamed up!"

Breathless and unnerved by Lando's reaction, Stitz carefully asked, "Sir, what is it?"

"It's not just the Empire, Ralan," Lando replied, breathless. "It's Black Sun."

"Black Sun?!" Stitz repeated, aghast. "The crime syndicate?"

Leaning against his outstretched hands on the console, Lando bowed his head and closed his eyes. Green Squadron was gone, undoubtedly blasted into oblivion by gods knew how many TIEs were up there. All their surveillance satellites were being destroyed by something that didn't show up on their sensors. And now after seeing the Black Sun coat of arms, he was beginning to understand why those plasma generator parts had never shown up. He wiped the sweat forming off his upper lip. "Looks like we're in for one hell of a fight. Stitz, sound the alarm! Battle stations! I'm calling Coruscant!"

"Yes sir!" Stitz hit the alarm switch with one hand while grabbing the large mic from the console. "All militia personnel, battle stations! Battle Stations! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill! All militia personnel…" he repeated over and over again.

………………

The call went out through the speakers of Southern Hem HQ and beyond. The cry to battle broadcast across the planet surface and into loud speakers in the public squares and into every comlink carried by all the volunteer militia across Orri Prime.

At first, a strange, eerie hush fell over the planet as every oldster paused their chess game, as every teacher halted their school lessons, as every miner stopped their drilling, and every shopkeeper and café worker stopped their work. The security squad commanders lowered their mugs of caf and turned away from the holonets. Almost in unison all across the globe, every head turned toward the nearest speaker that blared Stitz's voice loud and firm…

"Battle stations! All militia personnel! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill—"

And, all at once, the entire populace broke out in pandemonium.

Stitz's voice continued to blare instructions over the planet. "All personnel report immediately to your assigned posts! All gunners report immediately to cannon platforms! All pilots report to your local port! You will receive further instructions from your commanders upon arrival! All citizens unable to fight will immediately evacuate your homes and go into the underground shelters—"

The squad commanders all jumped from their seats and their bunks. Miners stopped their drilling and dropped their equipment, rushing the mineshafts and the lifts to pour out onto the surface by the hundreds. Mechanics in the ports and space docks rushed to fuel and repair any and all ships that could be used for combat as well as landspeeders to transport the militia to their posts. Schoolteachers hurriedly ushered all the pupils out of the classrooms and into specially designated shelters underground: The same was done for the elderly and disabled outside in the towns by the shopkeepers who had been specially trained for such a situation. People in their homes immediately scrambled to the arms cabinets and pulled out blasters and helmets for themselves and their spouses, their sons, their daughters…

Thousands of beings, alien and non, male and female, old and young, poured into hundreds of ore transports now being used to rush them to their posts. Still more transports raced through the streets of the townships, collecting weapons from the frantic citizens handing them out, to take them to their soldiers…

Yes, all on the surface of Orri Prime was preparing themselves for battle: Everyone, except those in I'Lai's palace…

……………….

With her hands tucked in her voluminous sleeves, Nikoa greeted the passing guards, housekeepers, cooks, and other various palace staff with her familiar warm smile and friendly winks as she serenely traveled the white luminous corridors on her way to her quarters.

She chirped one last friendly hello to an appliance maintenance mechanic on his way to the palace kitchen before sliding into her chamber and closing the door. Once inside, she drew her hands from her sleeves. Raising her hand to her aged blackish-brown eyes, she smiled softly as she perused the small transistor she had just ripped out of the palace's com system, playing with the wires that dangled from it with her fingertips…

……………….

"Come on, COME ON!" Lando roared, beating his fist against the holograph and frantically flicking all the console switches. "Work, damn it, go!"

"Sir," said Stitz quietly, his face twisted into a despaired grimace, "It's no use. They've taken out the interstellar satellites as well."

"So we can't even get backup. We're mute and blind." He sat against the console, furiously rubbing his eyes. Think, Calrissian, think! He looked up, staring intensely at the far wall. "The only thing we have right now are the deflector shields. They'll at least keep them at bay for a while."

"Baron, can the Imps break through them?"

Lando shook his head. "Not likely. The main shield generator is two hundred meters under Heavens Brace in the Northern Hem." He chuckled bitterly, in spite of the dire situation. "They'd have to pull some kind of technical magic out of their thrusters to get to it!"

……………….

Aboard the Imprimatur, that devastating "magic" was about to be performed…

The navigator turned toward Pellaeon. "Admiral, we are in Orri Prime's perimeter."

"Scan the shields. Captain, order Squadron Leaders to orbit designated land targets and stand by for attack order. Second TIE wave in bay, stand by."

"Yes, sir."

The navigator scanned the green graph signifying Orri Prime's shield intensely, and pointed at the wider gaps within the graph. "Shield origin appears to be somewhere in the Northern Hem. Scanners showing weakest shielding here, at the equator."

"That's our mark. Transfer data to Tactical Station." With hands clasped behind his back, Pellaeon strode across the bridge to the weapons console pit. The data the navigator had just transferred blared from their screens. Coming up on the edge of the pit behind one of the black-clad Imperial officers, he asked, "Are they ready?"

"Deflector Shield Seeker Drones are armed and ready, sir."

The Admiral turned and glanced at his Captain, who returned his look with wary hope. The small destructor drones had proven themselves effective and volatile weapons: Now, it was time to engage in the first practical testing of the Maw Installation's newest creation…

Pellaeon breathed deeply, and then commanded, "Target deflector shield break." The red laser target danced across the electronic display of Orri Prime's shield before settling and blinking onto the intended target…

"Fire."

With a turn of a plasteel key, the new DSSDs were launched.

Four identical black, slick missiles erupted from the angled stern of the Imprimatur. Each five meters in length and only thirty centimeters wide, they shot through the blackness of space, angling in perfect unison toward the atmosphere and their intended gateway, the small breaks in Orri Prime's deflector shields.

The gaps were far too small to safely allow a ship through them, and laser fire or proton torpedoes would merely bounce off the light-particle mesh of the shield, but the long, narrow DSSDs were designed to easily slide in between the graph's gaps, and they did exactly that. Once they had slid through the shield's gaps, the four missiles broke their formation and followed their individual paths north, south, east, and west, the friction of the atmosphere sizzling against their coned noses, their implanted homing chips scanning for the deflector shield's electronic signature…

The northern bound missile picked up the electronic trail first, honing in and hailing its three companions to its location. Simultaneously, the three other missiles veered from their paths and sliced through the azure Orri Prime sky to join it as it headed toward the massive twin-spired rock formation the natives called Heavens Brace. The missiles sped toward each other, the planet's surface blurring into a montage of green, grey, and blue beneath them as they seemed about to collide—

Only ten meters apart from each, the missiles' nosecones suddenly pulled straight up into the sky, and together they performed an elegant vertical clover up, around, and then down into the valley between Heavens Brace's peaks, where the deflector shield power dish was located.

Just meters from the ground, the nosecones broke away, revealing three blaster barrel-like devices which shot a thirty-centimeter wide laser directly into the earth, blasting holes at each corner of the dish platform, just wide enough for their long, sleek bodies to fit…

As the four missiles slid into the blasted terrain as easily as fingers slid into rings, their laser systems continued to cut their paths deep underground, their powerful repulsor engines pushing them further and further into the earth until they had found the shield's central power core.

From within each missile, a small nuclear generator began to resonate. The violent vibrations coming off each missile caused the bedrock around them to heat, crack and split. The noses of the missiles glowed deeper and more intensely with every passing second as their nuclear generators reached maximum density, and then blew—

The explosion of the core blew straight up through the main power conduit toward the surface, vomiting speeder-sized chunks of melted metal, searing bedrock, and white flames up out of the ground and into the sky. The sheer force of the blast actually caused the foundation of Heavens Brace to quake, and huge crags of rock began sliding off the side of the mountains, crashing into the land below…

………………..

"Direct hit, Admiral! Shields are DOWN!"

Cheers tore through the bridge of the Imprimatur as Pellaeon's chest swelled with victory.

"Give order! Second wave TIES, now! Bring us in! ENGAGE!!"

………………….

"No…" Stitz choked as he watched the graph of the deflector shield dissipate into nothingness on the one remaining working screen on the security console. "It's not possible…NO! NO!" He slammed his fists into the console before tearing from his chair and racing out into the corridor, where Lando was fervently giving final instructions the squad commanders…

"Lando!" he cried, bracing himself in the door jamb, "They've taken out the shield!"

Lando spun toward Stitz as all the other commanders gasped and exclaimed in horror and shock. "What! No, no! That generator is two hundred meters underground—"

"Sir, they did it! See for yourself! It's gone!" He took a ragged breath as he fought the tears beginning to well in his young eyes. "We're wide open."

For a brief moment Lando, Stitz, and the band of commanders stood in stunned and unnerved silence. Suddenly, Lando snapped himself out of his panicked trance and spun around. "Well, what are you waiting for?! Move out! MOVE!" He physically pushed several of them down the corridor. "Get to your ships! Man the cannon platforms! Let's go!"

As soon as the commanders had raced out the front door, Lando turned and ran back into his office, Stitz following close behind him. One there, he grabbed the keys to the weapons cabinet out of his desk and opened the lock, grabbing a hand blaster and a rifle. "Ralan, get yourself geared up," he ordered breathily, lobbing the rifle to him. He stopped for a brief second, running his sleeve across his eyes. "We're on our own here, so we might as well give them the best fight we can."

"Sir, I have an idea."

Lando cocked his head over his shoulder. "What is it?"

Stitz swallowed hard, and then blurted, "I can fly just outside the planetary perimeter, and you can broadcast to Coruscant with your comlink through me. It would only be an audio message, but it's better than nothing."

Still pulling weapons, Lando hastily waved his hand. "No way, Stitz! You'll be shot down in seconds—"

"Seconds are all we'll need, sir. Just enough time to get the message out—"

"Ralan, I can't ask you to do this—"

"Sir," Stitz interjected firmly, "we don't have a CHOICE!" Lando turned out of the cabinet, meeting Stitz's eyes. "We need the Fleet, sir. Without them we're all dead."

Lando stood, panting breathlessly. Stitz was right—he had no choice but to send him out… "All right, go, GO!" As Stitz turned to race from the room, Lando grabbed the arm of his young assistant. With a look of utter despair mixed with his deepest respect, he whispered, "May the Force be with you, Ralan."

Stitz in turn put his hand on his commander's and somberly replied, "It's been an honor and a privilege, Baron Calrissian."

The two men embraced swiftly and robustly, then Lando pushed him away. "Go, now, get up there!"

Stitz ran down the granite corridor, crashing through the back entrance doors with his shoulder toward the headquarters' landing dock. Yelling at and waving off the technicians in his way, he tore toward his personal Z-95 Headhunter and jumped onto the wing, not even bothering to use the ladder. He leapt into the pilot's seat and, just as the hatch began to close, stole a quick, anguished glance at the swarms of TIE fighters already making their descent…

With a pull of the ignition and a yank of the throttle, the Headhunter was lifted off the bay floor and hurled into the atmosphere. Ralan Stitz looked over his shoulder and gave Southern Hem Security Headquarters one final look, knowing in his gut that he would not be returning.

………………….

"CZETHROS! SHEILDS ARE DOWN!"

Czethros leapt from his chair. "Jober, Ca'ckalo, get in the Snipers! Splitter, take the helm!"

As his armored henchman howled and sprinted to their appointed positions, Czethros grabbed the comlink at the side of this chair and addressed the rest of the mercenary crew throughout the ship. "This is it, boys! We're goin' in! NO MERCY!"

The onslaught of shrieks, howls, whistles, and roars tore through the ship and threatened to crack its very hull as Jober and Ca'ckalo slid through the airlocks into their one-man speeder-fighters, Splitter forced the throttle downward, and the Dama Fortuna ripped into Orri Prime's atmosphere, shrieking toward the Governor's Palace…

…………………….

The massive quakes of the deflector shield's explosion convulsed through the terrain, all the way to the clearing where I'Lai still lay on her back, Kai resting on her chest…

I'Lai's eyes flew open and, still holding Kai close to her breast, snapped herself up from her blanket and spun around just as at the majestic peaks of Heavens Brace crashed to the ground.

She gawked at the massive clouds of dust pluming into the air all around the peaks. All earlier feelings of anger and betrayal vanished, only to be replaced by confusion and shock…but before she could even begin to understand what had happened to the humungous rock formation, she looked up into the sky, past the plumes of Heavens Brace's destruction…

She rose to her feet as she saw hundreds of tiny black dots soaring high above, breaking off into formations of twenty or so, going east, west, south, growing ever larger as the seconds passed. Dread began to knot in her stomach, and the Force shrieked all around her as she realized what the dots actually were…

She noticed three black shapes in particular, one larger than the other two, as they broke off from the rest and seemed to be racing in her direction, disappearing briefly behind cloud of dust and earth before appearing again, even closer and coming in fast. As the black shapes moved in, she could see the sun glint off their black metal hulls, and recognized the planes jutting off their sides as wing thrusters…

I'Lai was frozen where she stood, too terrified to move. Clutching Kai to her chest, one word formed on her lips, in her mind, and in her heart…

"Boba…"

……………………

"So den," Watto snickered from his place at the center table of his shop, barely able to contain his mirth, "De Fellenetian waiter says to the Celegian, 'I don't serve dinner to cabbages—I serve cabbage wit dinner!" With that, Watto howled with laughter, beating his small fist into the tabletop. He glanced with watering eyes toward Boba Fett seated at the worktable. "Get it? 'I don't serve dinner to cabbages—"

"I get it, Watto," Fett answered dully as he soldered the last connection in his jetpack.

"Den why ain't ju laughing?" Fett's only response was a lift of his ebon-eyed glare from his work to the Toydarian seated on the tabletop. He still wore the faded gray headwrap, but had taken off the opaque goggles for better sight of his intricate work. Watto huffed. "What, din't ju tink dat was funny? Dat's my best joke!"

Finishing the solder, Fett switched off the rod and tilted the jetpack up "Don't quit your day job."

Watto scowled. "Ju should laugh more, Boba Fett. Ju too serious." A little chime sounded from the shop's kitchen, and he jumped off the table and flapped toward the curtain, still grumbling under his breath. "Ju a young man, and ju so tense! Ju need to relax a little…"

As Watto still griped and banged around in the kitchen, Fett raised a hand to his eyes and rubbed. Must be bad light in here, he thought to himself, I'm starting to see things…but the rubbing didn't alleviate the images forming in front of his eyes. Instead they grew stronger, clearer…ships…three of them…the first, definitely Corellian-class…the other two, Kuat Sniper-class one-man terrain fighters slicing through a cerulean sky, coming closer…

fear, confusion…smoke, dust…whirling around in his head…

what the hell…

someone in trouble…someone …I'Lai…Kai…

Boba…help…help…

"Ah, now DIS is good!" Watto pushed the kitchen curtain open with his arm as he flapped back into the shop, two steaming bowls clutched in each hand. "Rengalini stew!" Flying over to Fett, he set a bowl down. "Try it, it good! Better dan dose stupid amino packs and ration bars ju always eating!" He flew to his table, setting himself down and pulling a spoon from his shop apron, digging in. He had swallowed a couple bites before asking, "Wat ju tink? Good, jes?" When he received no answer, Watto glanced up at Fett, who hadn't touched his bowl. "Wat da matter? Ju not hungry?"

Again, Fett said nothing, did nothing but sit deadly still, barely breathing, staring glassy-eyed straight ahead. Setting his bowl down, Watto pushed himself off the table and moved toward the entranced bounty hunter. "Fett, ju OK? Fett?" He waved his wiry hand in front of Fett's eyes; he didn't even blink. "Ello? Fett…?"

"Run," Fett whispered hoarsely.

Watto knit his brow. "Ju say sumting?"

"Run!" he repeated, louder this time. Still staring straight ahead, his breathing quickened. "Save the baby! Get back to the palace!" Fett suddenly leapt to his feet, and banged his fist against the table as he shouted. "I'LAI, RUN!"

…………………..

I'Lai, RUN! RUN!

Boba's voice screamed through I'Lai's mind, snapping her out of her frozen terror. The two small, black Sniper crafts came careening toward her while the Dama Fortuna roared above her head on its way to her palace.

Panicked, she dove toward the soft baby sling on the blanket and frantically wrapped it around Kai and herself, bracing him to her body…

"Hey, Jober," croaked Ca'ckalo the Aqualish through their com, "Down there, in that clearing. See her?"

In his pilot's seat, Jober shot a glance through his viewport at the small figure of the woman on the blanket, hurriedly trying to gather her baby to her. "Yeah, I see her, So?"

Flicking his long tongue over his vertical lip sacs, Ca'ckalo flicked the casing lid off the stick of his turbolaser with his thumb. "How 'bout a little target practice before we hit the palace, huh?" he cackled.

Jober's lip curled up in an amused snarl. "Sure, why not—" His snarl, however melted just the gust from their engines blew the woman's large sunhat off her head, blowing her long, lustrous black hair about her face and shoulders. When the woman turned her frightened glance up over her shoulder, he instantly recognized her oval face and sparkling teal eyes— "Cack, you fuckin' idiot, hold your fire! That's her! That's FETT'S WOMAN!"

Jober saw the woman jump to her feet and, clutching the baby close to her, start to run to the wooded glen that grew between the meadow and the palace. "Get in front of her!"

Ca'ckalo hit the thrusters and dipped his fighter's nose down, sending the ship to swerve around and halt just meters from her, cutting her off from her path of escape.

I'Lai screamed and fell back onto the ground as the speeder craft loomed menacingly in front of her. With one arm secured firmly around Kai, she scrambled to her feet and spun around—only to see the second craft looming just above and behind her…

From his angle in the air, Jober could now see every detail of I'Lai's beauty in face and body. Her crimson tunic had slipped slightly off her shoulder, giving the Bothan a tantalizing view of the top swell of her creamy breast. His blood began to heat, and a thin stream of saliva dripped from his bared fangs. "Come on, Pretty," he growled low in his throat, his loins tensing as he held the beautiful human female in his glare, "Don't you want to play…?"

With the Snipers cutting her off from behind and front, I'Lai manically sprinted sideways toward the thick woods surrounding the meadow—

Only to have Ca'ckalo race in front of her and set the woods on fire.

A blazing pillar of flame blasted from the craft into the ancient trees, igniting them instantly, evacuating the birds that nested in them screeching toward the sky. Again I'Lai screamed, crouching to the ground and covering Kai's head with her hair. Veering the Sniper in a semi-circle, Ca'ckalo laughed viciously as he triggered the flamethrower again, setting the entire wood leading to the palace ablaze.

I'Lai staggered to her feet, backing away from the wall of fire just meters before her, fighting to breathe through the smoke and heat as the black-plated snipers circled lower and lower around her…

"Help," she whimpered, her eyes huge and terrified as they darted back and forth between the surrounding crafts and the blazing woods. She jerked her head up to see the unmistakable wedge of a Star Destroyer high above, dropping TIE Interceptors and Bombers as well as shuttles out of its bay…

She fell to her knees in the grass, and huge tears fell from her eyes as she lowered her head over Kai's. "Please…anyone…help us…please…"

…………………….

Leia squealed in delight and clutched Han's arm as she watched Rogue Group perform the grand finale to their outstanding airshow from the huge Senate balcony. High above the cheering hordes lining Coruscant's airstreets, the twelve X-wings soared, danced, and looped through the air, white smoke pouring from their thrusters until they had completely written Han's and Leia's intertwined names in the sky.

"I take it you approve?" Han asked, donning his famous crooked smirk.

"It's breathtaking!" Leia cried happily. "Oh Han! How did you—"

"Wasn't my idea, sweetheart." He cocked his head toward Luke. "You can thank your brother for that gift."

Leia broke away from Han and rushed to throw her arms around Luke. "Luke, it's beautiful!"

Luke shrugged and simpered. "Wedge was more than happy to comply. We wanted to give you something special today."

"'Special' doesn't even describe it!" She turned back toward the sky. "I…I don't even have words…"

Suddenly, Leia's smile disintegrated. A feeling of absolute terror washed over her. The normally peach-hued Coruscant sky darkened into an azure blue before her eyes, and the names in the sky dissipated into massive plumes of dark gray dust and ash. The spires of Coruscant's high-rises morphed into cobalt blue mountains, and the X-wings in the sky began to change…their wings becoming flat panels, their color changing from off-gray to charcoal black…and the cheers of the people becoming screams of terror as the TIE Interceptors swept through their townships, blasting their homes, mowing them down in the streets—

"NO!" she screamed, slapping her hands on the rail.

Han's broad smile vanished as well at Leia's outburst. "Sweetheart, Leia, what is it, what's wrong?" Leia's eyes were wide open, staring into nothingness, and she was trembling. Han looked up at Luke. "Luke, what the—" he stopped, however, when he saw the very same expression on Luke's face.

Suddenly Luke blinked, and furiously shook his head. Leia seemed to come out of the trance as well, looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes. "You…you saw it, didn't you?" she breathed.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Saw what?" Han demanded.

Leia spun toward Han and grabbed his shirtsleeve. "Han, we have to go! We're going to need SpecForce, primarily the urban guerilla and wilderness force divisions! Admiral Ackbar, General Rieekan—"

"Leia, whoa, slow down!" Han grabbed her shoulder, turning her back. "What the hell—"

The entire party on the balcony stopped and turned when they heard a young male voice crying from the ballroom. "President Organa, Your Excellency! Please everyone, let me through! Please!"

The mass of guests parted to either side of the ballroom as a young Senatorial page stumbled through the crowd and up the balcony staircase. "Your Excellency, Sirs…" he stammered, trying to catch his breath, "We just received an audio message from Baron Lando Calrissian! Orri Prime is under Imperial attack!"

Luke, Han, Leia, Chewbacca, Rieekan and Ackbar all immediately scrambled down the staircase and raced through the ballroom. As the others hurried into the corridor, Han stopped and turned to the party guests, holding up his hands. "Folks, seems this party's being put on hold! But, uh…help yourselves to the buffet! It's paid for!" With that, he rushed out the doors to join the others, leaving the hundreds of finely dressed guests murmuring and whispering amongst themselves.

They sped down the halls until they reached the Senate's Central Com Center, where they could hear Lando's voice blaring through the speakers—"Han, Leia, anyone, are you there? We are under attack! Repeat, we are under attack—"

Han was the first to reach the com, grabbing at the mic. "Lando, we're here! What the hell is going on?"

"It's the Imps, Han! We—agh!" An explosion of laser fire cut him off temporarily. "I'm on the cannon platform securing Security HQ! We're wide open, Han—they've taken out our shields—"

"Lando, how could they get through the shields? The generator's underground—"

"I don't know, Han! They've taken out every com and survey satellite, and we couldn't even detect it! I think they're using some kind of new stealth technology we haven't seen before—we couldn't even see them enter the system! Wait, hold on— Mitti, aim for their undersides, the ion engines—" He was cut off again by another blast.

"Lando! LANDO, you there?"

The sounds of falling dirt hitting the platform proceeded Lando's answer. "Yeah, buddy, I'm still here! Han," he added breathlessly, "The Imps aren't working alone! They've got Black Sun backing them up!"

"Black Sun?" Leia gasped.

"Han, we need backup, and fast! How soon can you get here?"

Han looked up at Admiral Ackbar and General Rieekan, who were already on their own personal comlinks, alerting their forces. Ackbar turned to Han. "I can have the Republic Navy massed in less than an hour!"

"Same here with Ground and SpecForces," Rieekan added. Han turned to Luke, who was already on comlink with Wedge Antilles.

He turned back to the mic, running a hand through his hair. "Lando, it's gonna be about three hours! We have to put out the call, and formulate some kind of plan—"

"Han!" Lando screamed over the com amidst the shrieks of laser fire and the screams of his mean, "In three hours, there'll be nothing LEFT! They're killing us here! We've got to…" There was a chilling pause before Han and the rest heard Lando say, "Gods and hells…Fall back, Take COVER! INCOMING—"

The horrific blare of proton torpedoes detonating shrieked through the speakers as did the howls and screams of the troops.

"Lando?" Han shouted. Lando didn't answer. "LANDO!! LANDO!!"

……………………

Dirt, sparks, and fired bits of metal rained down on Lando's prone form. Struggling to lift his head, he used all the strength he could muster to look up at what remained of the blasted cannon platform. Reduced to nothing more than a smoldering heap of burning scrap, it appeared to be a strange red-hued color, until…He realized he was looking at it through a thin veil of his own blood that dripped from his head into his eyes.

He turned to his right; there lay the young Rodian gunner everyone called Aces on his back, arms splayed wide, and half his face blown off.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to push himself up, only to scream in agony. He glanced down at his right arm. It was broken.

His body wracked as he coughed up smoke, dust, and specks of blood. Thrusting his good arm forward, Lando tried to drag himself along the ground, but found he couldn't. He twisted his body around and looked down at his legs, which were pinned to the ground by the massive barrel of the smoldering ion cannon.

The shrieks of laser fire, the screams of the TIE Bomber engines above, and the anguished shrieks of his wounded and dying men all around him blended together in his ears in a cacophonic hum. A wave of nausea coursed through him as he dropped his head to the earth and, as his consciousness began to slip, Han's voice still rang in his ears from the comlink lying in the dirt a meter from his head…

"Lando! Lando! LANDO!!"

……………………

High above Orri prime's surface, Stitz veered his Headhunter into a hard bank, trying to shake the five TIES descending on him, when he realized his commander on the surface was not answering Han Solo's calls. He snatched the com up from the console, trying to reach Lando himself. "Sir! Baron, can you hear me? Baron?" He bowed his head. "Oh…no…"

When he looked up again, it was too late to scuttle from the three TIEs screaming toward him. Lieutenant Ralan Stitz closed his eyes and gripped the throttle hard just before his ship was ripped apart…

And the communications link to Coruscant fizzled into cold static.

……………………

They fought valiantly, the citizens of Orri Prime. They took on the enemy from the rooftops of their homes, firing their blasters from high in the trees, on the ground and from the streets. They fought bravely, selflessly, vehemently, with honor and courage and untiring loyalty to their world, their governor, their new way of life, their freedom.

They fought a losing battle.

Most of the cannon squads never even made it to the platforms mounted high atop the peaks and crags of Orri Prime's mountains. Most of the shuttle lifts carrying the militia troops were mercilessly picked off by wave after wave of the TIE Interceptors now glutting the skies. Those who did make it to their posts had little to no time to proficiently man the cannons, as TIE Bombers released their loads of proton bombs directly on top of the platforms and the squads climbing them.

The few pilots available barely had the chance to engage the Empire in the air; TIE Interceptors took out most of the outdated Z-95s before they could even lift off their pads. Those who did actually make flight were quickly shot down by the far superior and better trained Imperial pilots.

With most of the planet's heavy weaponry destroyed or damaged, the way was now cleared to drop the land assault units. One by one, The Imprimatur spit out a dozen AT-ST Scout Walkers that plummeted through the atmosphere, only to softly land with the aid of the repulsor lifts installed in their undersides. Once grounded, the massive walker units' legs stood up, lifting the armor-plated cockpits off the ground and lumbering toward the townships' perimeters.

The AT-STs were followed by the Imperial landing barges carrying hundreds of stormtroopers, who poured out from the barges like swarms of white-armored locusts, easily outnumbering the militia infantry. The air dense with a spectrum of laser blasts and thick with the scent of ozone, the stormtroopers rushed the ports' and townships' entrances, mowing down hordes of Orrians fighting to defend them. Those they didn't cut down were easily and hurriedly rounded up in the streets and shield-bound…

Fifty kilometers away from the bloody and burnt battlefield that was the Atimbora Township, the Dama Fortuna made its own deadly descent upon I'Lai's palace.

Hovering just ten meters above the palace's inner courtyard, its thrusters blowing over the antique statues and singing the intricate trees and plants, the ships twin vertical ramps opened on either side. Czethros's mercenaries lunged out of the hold, rappelling to the garden floor on thick cables. Trodeccu the Wookiee was first to land with a resonant THUD, hoisting the huge turbocannon up and blasting the three palace guards through the glass doors from which they had just hastily entered.

As soon as their booted feet had hit the cold stone slabs, Czethros's black-armored faction scattered themselves across the courtyard, shattering every window and busting down every door. They swarmed through the white granite corridors, easily blasting the surprised guards rushing the corners. Shrieks and screams echoed all through the palace as the band of cutthroats smashed their way into every room, forcing any terrified staff they found to their knees at blaster-point, ripping doors open and over turning furniture as they searched for Czethros's prize…

Trodeccu and a battle-scarred middle-aged Corellian named Hosh, after having blasted all the other doors and searched all the other apartments in the servants' wing, came upon the last door. The Wookiee roared an order at Hosh, who raised his rifle and shot out the door panel. As the door slipped open Trodeccu lunged in, turbocannon ready, peering through the blaster smoke to see an old woman calmly closing the drawer of her bureau.

The woman turned away from the bureau toward the intruders, lightly tucking a stray strand of curly gray hair back into her upswept hairdo…and smiled.

"Welcome," Nikoa murmured warmly. She cocked an eyebrow as she sniffed at the smoke. "You know, you could have just knocked…"

Still aboard the hovering Dama Fortuna, Czethros angrily hit the com. "WELL?!"

The voice that crackled back was that of Splitter's, chattering his tense reply in Snivvian.

Czethros gritted his teeth. "What do you mean you can't find her??? KEEP LOOKING!" He slammed his fist into the com console and roared, "WHERE IS SHE???"

……………………….

Running, running, sprinting across the clearing, clamping Kai against her body, I'Lai's attempts to escape were agonizingly thwarted by the vicious Snipers. Cutting her off at every angle she turned, they pushed and batted her between them like bullying children until they had forced her to the far end of the meadow, away from any path to the palace.

Choking from the smoke of the burning woods, the fumes singing her eyes, I'Lai ducked behind a large boulder and crouched. Panting frantically, she pushed Kai's sunhat up and stroked his face. "Are you all right, little one?" she asked in short, sharp sobs. She took a deep breath of relief when he stared up at her and gurgled softly. He wasn't hurt and he didn't even seem to be scared; he wasn't even crying.

I'Lai continued to take calming breaths as she struggled to assess the calamitous situation. These weren't Imperials, that was for certain; who they were, she couldn't even guess. And they obviously didn't want to kill her, or they would have easily done so by now. No, toying with her, trying to tire her, weaken her…

The engines of the Snipers roared behind her as she desperately scanned the woods in front of her, beside her…she looked up, over the treetops…and saw the peak of Grand Mountain Hall about a kilometer in the distance.

That was it! If she could get there, she could use one of the paths carved into the mountainside, and climb down one of the hundreds of old shafts dug out and get back to the palace through its many underground tunnels…

I'Lai's terror ebbed, replaced by raw determination and the overwhelming instinct of a mother protecting her child. Holding Kai with one arm, she reached down with the other and picked up a hefty rock. She sprang to her feet as Jober's Sniper pulled up and over her hiding place, hovering just meters in front of her. I'Lai locked glares with the sneering Bothan through the viewport, her eyes slit and her teeth clamped. Pulling the Force into her arm, aimed at the Sniper and hurled the rock with such strength, it actually sank a dent in the craft's nosecone. She briefly enjoyed a small moment of satisfaction when she saw the Bothan inside actually duck.

"You want me?" she screamed, a darkly confident sneer pulling at her lip, "You're going to have to CATCH ME!"

With that, I'Lai spun around and sprinted into the thick woods.

Jober's malicious glee seeped away into heated impatience as he watched his prey race into the woods with her cub. "Spirited little minx, aren't you? You are…interesting." He picked up the com. "Ca'ckalo! She's gone into the wood! Switch on the infrared!" He hit the throttle and pulled the nose up, launching the Sniper up over the treetops, with Ca'ckalo flying closely behind him.

The strip of forest dividing the palace meadow and the clearing at the bottom of Great Mountain Hall was thin, but unkempt. Overgrown with thickets and thorny vines, their barbs tore at I'Lai's tunic and pants and scratched her face and arms. Nonetheless, she ran harder than she ever had in her life, throwing her hair over Kai's head to protect him. She leapt over huge gnarled tree roots and bashed vines and branches aside, until she could see daylight break through from the woods end…

Above, Jober watched her running form glow on his infrared screen and thumbed the trigger of his flamethrower. "So, you wanna play rough, Pretty…" He ignited the flamethrower, the flames vomiting forth to blanket the treetops above her.

But I'Lai was too fast. Just as burning branches and bark rained down from above, she hurdled one last root to clear the woods, springing into the overgrown meadow beyond. She stumbled a few steps forward before turning and glaring up at the hovering Snipers. Her eyes blazed with green fire, and her lips were pulled in an arrogant snarl. She shifted Kai more securely in his sling…and laughed. She actually laughed at them.

It was then Jober lost all patience. His canine-like eyes bulged from his head as his own lip curled into an angry snarl. This little bitch dares laugh at him, the Supreme Vigo's second of dreaded Black Sun, Czethros's heir apparent? Perhaps it was time to teach his soon-to-be human rut-pet a lesson in respect… Lowering his hovering Sniper craft from over the burning tree, he aimed his blaster mount—and fired a shot into the earth beside I'Lai, just a meter shy of her feet.

Dirt and grass exploded into the air and around the blaster impact. But I'Lai did not move; she didn't even flinch. She stood her ground, her arms wrapped around her babe, her shoulders square, her eyes piercing through the craft's viewshield to bore into Jober's. Still holding his glare, she slowly took a step back. Then another. Then another, all the while wearing a challenging smirk, until she suddenly spun around and raced through the field to the mountain beyond.

Jober's fist curled around the throttle as he growled, "I'm growing a little tired of this game, Pretty." He hit the thrusters and the com. "Cack, get ahead of her! I'll take the rear!" Ca'ckalo grunted in affirmation and hit the thrusters, peeling through the air after the running girl.

As she ran, I'Lai closed her eyes, calling to the Force. "Faster," she whispered between furious pants, "Faster…" Suddenly, I'Lai's legs blurred beneath her as she shot forward and ahead of the pursuing Snipers.

The Bothan blinked, unsure if he was seeing this right… "Cack, come on! Get her!" He flicked a switch on the console, releasing the durasteel mesh net from its housing…

Confused, The Aqualish sped forward in attempts to catch up to her, only to see her pull away once again and dart sideways toward another grove of trees. The two Snipers instantly followed, descending toward her, speeding ever closer…Until I'Lai suddenly veered again in a sharp right angle with superhuman speed.

Ca'ckalo slammed the repulsors and banked the craft hard. His Sniper fishtailing wildly, he fought to control the craft, yanking the throttle hard and to the right until the nosecone pointed toward the fleeing I'Lai. He hit the thrusters again and shot forward.

Jober, however, was not so lucky. He yanked the nose up, attempting to clear the oncoming wood, when the net dangling below him snared itself into the tangle of tree limbs jutting forth. The craft suddenly jerked, twisted around and plummeted into the thick wood, snapping the century-old trees in half and sending them crashing over his now-disabled Sniper.

Dazed and enraged, Jober popped the restraints and hit the cockpit control with his curled paw, climbing out of the Sniper and falling to the ground just seconds before the entire craft burst into flames. He scrambled away on all fours just as the fire ignited the trees around him, clearing the burning wood before it threatened to consume him as well.

The Bothan struggled to his feet, ripped his helmet off his thick-pelted head, and howled furiously into the sky.

I'Lai shot a glance over her shoulder, racing forward at her impossible speed, watching the remaining Sniper narrow the distance between them with every passing second, the vertical cliff side of Grand Mountain Hall looming ever closer …closer… CLOSER…

She snapped her head forward, tightened her grip around her baby, and screamed, "KAI! HANG ON!"

With that, she leapt forward, hitting the earth beneath her hard…and sprang twenty meters straight up into the air.

The cliff side filled Ca'ckalo's entire viewport as he screamed and hit the repulsors—but there was no veering his craft this time. The Sniper crashed full-speed into the rocky wall and ignited into a splendid explosion of flame, metal, burning flesh and hair and flying chunks of stone.

Airborne, I'Lai twisted in the air and, just as she was about to hit the stone path atop the cliff, thrust her hand palm down, using the Force to buffer her fall. Still she landed hard, lurching forward onto her knees with a short cry of pain as the smoke from the crashed Sniper filtered from below.

"Kai," she whimpered, panting furiously, sitting back on her legs and unwrapping the sling enough to get a good look at him, "are you all right?" She tugged the little sunhat back from his tiny face to see her son's smiling face and hear him cackle with delight. She slumped back, incredulous. "You thought that was fun? My word, you are your father's son, aren't you?" She scrambled to her feet, holding him close to her body. "Come on, we have to get home…"

Around the other side of the mountain was the entrance to a passageway that would lead her down into the huge maw of the carved-out mountain. With each agonizing step, her exhausted legs trembled and buckled beneath her and her bootsoles slipped on the path's loose gravel as she struggled hurriedly up the steep stone path. She grabbed at the rocky mountainside for support. Just a few more steps…come on…just a few more…

The rays of Orri Prime's blue sun broke forth as I'Lai cleared the curve, the steep path leveling out. The path continued for another ten meters before it curved again, and just beyond that turn was the passage entrance…

Suddenly, apparently from nowhere, the roar of ship engines flooded her ears and a powerful blast of air blew over her. I'Lai stopped and stumbled, falling back onto the path and cradling Kai in her arms, her eyes huge with renewed terror…

The Dama Fortuna levitated from beyond the cliff side like a huge black insect. Hovering, the ship rotated slowly until its opened ramp was revealed. There, leaning forward from within the maw of the ship and holding the ramp strut for support, stood a tall, powerfully built green-haired man wearing a black leather flak suit, a silver bionic visor across his eyes, and a chillingly menacing smile.

As the ship edged closer, Czethros reached toward her with his free hand, and she heard him croon over the din of the engines…

"Get in the ship, Governor Pretty..."

……………………….

"Lando, come in," Han continued to bellow into the mic. "Lando!"

"Sir, it's no use," the Sullustan communications officer interjected somberly. "The signal's been lost."

The New Republic elite stood silent and stunned. After for a few moments, Leia took a deep breath and grabbed the white veil off her head. "Lieutenant, bring up map of the Dia-Orri system."

"Yes, Your Excellency," replied the Sullustan officer seated at the console. He punched in the codes to the cartographic holo, which shot the vibrant hologram of the Dia-Orri system into the map pit. As the group moved toward it, Leia turned to Ackbar. "Admiral?"

"We'll have to rendezvous just outside the system to keep from alerting the Imperial forces." He raised a webbed hand toward the system's outermost gas giant, Orri Omega. "I'd say one parsec behind this planet should suffice."

"Admiral, General Rieekan, inform your forces to meet at the designated location. Luke," she said, turning to her brother, "I am reinstating you temporarily as Rogue Group Leader."

"Leia, Wedge is more than capable—"

"I know, Luke, but I need you up there," she countered gently yet firmly. She touched his arm. "I need a Jedi pilot to lead them against those TIEs."

Luke squeezed her hand. "You got it."

She turned back to the group. "Gentlemen, to your ships. General Solo and I will meet with you in the Millennium Falcon—"

"Whoa, now wait just a minute!" Han declared, putting up his hands. He turned to Leia and raised an eyebrow. "Who says you're coming?"

"Uh oh," Luke grunted, running a hand through his hair.

Leia glared at her husband, folding her arms over her chest. "Excuse me?"

"Leia, we're flying a combat mission here! You're not flying with me."

"And why not?" she retorted

"Well, need I remind you that you just happen to be pre—"

"Pregnant?" Leia snapped heatedly.

Han pursed his lips as the others in the room quickly glanced away, and took a slow breath. "Well, I WAS going to say President, but now that you mention it…yeah, THAT TOO!"

"President Organa, General Solo, this really isn't—" Rieekan started to say, until he was hastily cut off.

"And need I remind you, General Solo, that as Supreme Commander of the New Republic military, I happen to outrank you! So, as of this moment, I am ORDERING you to take me on your ship—"

"Yes, MY ship which, technically, is a private vessel and not under New Republic military jurisdiction! So as captain of MY ship, I firmly deny any and all access—"

"HAN! LEIA! STOP!" Luke snapped. The couple's heads both snapped toward the young Jedi, who anxiously rubbed his forehead. "Suggestion? President Organa, why don't you accompany Admiral Ackbar on the Defiance?"

"But Luke—" Leia started firmly.

"Leia," Luke interjected softly, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Han's right. It's far too risky for you to go with him. You'll be safer on the Defiance. Agreed?"

Leia sighed hastily, dropping her eyes to the floor. "Agreed."

"OK then," Han announced. "Let's get this show on the road!"

………………….

"WHAT JU MEAN, JOU'RE LEAVING??" Watto exclaimed as he watched Boba Fett race around the shop, gathering up all the pieces to his armor.

"That's what I said," Fett snapped quietly as he threw the complete armor down on the center table. Without any hint of modesty or shame, he immediately began peeling off the loose-fitting clothing he wore.

"But…but…" Watto shook his head in exasperated confusion, "I don't get it! How ju know jour lady is in trouble?"

Stripped down to his skivvies, Fett stepped one leg at a time into the armorweave undersuit. "I just know."

"Wat, ju have a secret comlink to her or sumting?"

Fett stopped fastening the front of the suit for a moment. "Or something," he breathed, clenching his eyes and shaking his head before he resumed. He snapped his covered head toward Watto. "Help me get into this. NOW."

Grimacing, Watto quickly flapped over and picked up the knee and thigh guards. He sank down toward the ground and began strapping them to the bounty hunter, who was already donning the armored dissipation vest. "Ju still haven't tested de jet pack, ju know! Ju just finished it!"

"I'm aware of that."

"It could blow up!" the Toydarian warned.

"I'll take the chance. Bracers."

Levitating, Watto grabbed Fett's bracers and carefully clamped them around the Fett's arms. Fett stood perfectly still, fighting to calm the rage tearing through his limbs. Brief, choppy images still flickered through his mind—I'Lai running, clutching Kai to her breast as she was mercilessly chased by two black-hulled Snipers… inexplicably, he not only saw, but felt her fortitude and ingenuity as she made her escape…but it was when he saw, through her eyes, the leather-clad, green-haired man did he instantly know who was behind this…

"Czethros," he growled dangerously, his hand unconsciously curling into a tight fist.

Watto glanced up. "Ju say sumting?"

"Nothing worth repeating," Fett rumbled. "Check your accounts tomorrow morning—you'll find the remainder of your fee there." With his bracers secured, he picked his helmet up with one hand while, with the other, tore the wrap off his face and head.

Panicked, Watto practically shrieked and covered his eyes with his hands. "No, no, no! I din't see nuttin, I swear, Fett—"

"Don't worry, Watto," Fett muttered. "You'll never see me again."

Watto cautiously raised a glance through his fingers and looked into the infamous bounty hunter's scarred, swarthy face. The two stood silent as they stared at each for a brief moment before Watto dropped his hands from his eyes, squared his thin shoulders, and smirked. "Go, Boba Fett. Save your lady and send those bastards to the dimensional hells." He reached his hand out. "Goodbye…my friend."

Fett clamped Watto's hand in his own and whispered, "Goodbye, Watto," before he slid the helmet on his head and strode out the door.

Watto levitated to the door and slid the slot open. He watched the armored bounty hunter stride with power and determination toward the Slave I and, as he saw Boba Fett disappear over the small crest of the asteroid's horizon, he smiled a soft, proud smile.