Naboo's green and blue essence appeared as a giant ball to Teek as he peered out of the Falcon's cockpit windows. Uneasiness gurgled inside his abdomen as he covered his mouth exhaling a slight burp. Teek had never exited Naboo's gravity and appeared queasy trying to adjust to the artificial gravity generated by the Falcon's onboard computers.
Klaxons blared inside the cockpit's controls alerting Ric Olié to danger ahead, "What's that?" Teek exclaimed.
No sooner than he yelled than the triangular presence of a Victory-class Star Destroyer loomed across the horizon. From afar, Teek could distinguish the ventral aft structure of the bridge and control towers.
"A Republic ship, why are the alarms going off?" Rité queried.
"The targeting computers detect hostiles, we're about to be attacked." Ric Olié pulled the control yoke into evasive maneuvers, the orb of Naboo rotated underneath the cockpit. A squadron of V-Wing fighters digitally appeared on the cockpit threat display.
"We've got company! Teek, Rité, can you man those quads?"
"Let's go, Teek!" The pair unbuckled their crash net harnesses and made their way behind the cockpit. In the primary cargo hold, Teek flew up the top ladder toward the ventral cannon while Rité manned the dorsal. Teek hurried to gain his senses into space as the freighter twisted and turned to evade the squad of fighters. The distinct outline of the V-wing fighter appeared upon Teek's targeting reticule. Letting loose a flurry of amber blaze, the V-wing erupted into flaming shards as Teek's blaster shock made contact.
"I got one!" Teek proclaimed.
"Great kid, don't get cocky!" Ric shouted as top became bottom again to Teek. Naboo's glowing essence appeared directly above Teek, then quickly back below as the Falcon revolved and twisted to avoid her attackers. Teek revealed a few more blaster shots against the assailants as Rité proclaimed her own kill. Five more V-Wings continued to chase the freighter streaming blaster fire onto the craft, erupting in a pulsing blue ripple as they interacted with the shields.
"Only the fighters are attacking, I wonder what that Destroyer is doing," Olié stated over the comm.
"That's great, Captain, how soon till we can leave Naboo?" Rité questioned.
"I can't tell, this navcomputer is beginning to glitch out. This can't be right, the destination says Coruscant, but these aren't the proper coordinates."
Three more squads of fighters appeared on the threat display inside the cockpit.
"We're gonna have more company!" Olié proclaimed.
"Are these quads the only punch we have?" Teek worried.
"Appears so," Olié jerked the yoke to revolve the Falcon toward the oncoming Destroyer. Teek glanced out the rotund window of his cannon as the Victory-class ship, Arbiter came closer.
"What the…? You're not actually going to assault that Destroyer are you?"
"No kid, I've got a surprise."
"Captain, if the coordinates don't point to Coruscant shouldn't we correct them first before we jump?" Rité shot down another V-Wing upon her question. Beads of sweat rushed down her face and neck.
"I've tried, we don't have time, and shields are already at thirty percent. If we take this beating much longer, we'll be dead weight. I'm shifting forward power to shields."
The Falcon jerked into a sudden thrust, a white plume exited the exhaust panel consuming the full back arc of the saucer-shaped hull.
"What?" The distant stars became a sea of brilliant whitewash as Teek grasped his mouth, jerking slightly in his gunnery chair as the craft entered hyperspace. Teek stammered to descend the ladder, clasping his mouth emptying his stomach contents onto the deck of the cargo hold. Rité ascended from her position and started to pat his back to aide his condition. Ric Olié entered the main cargo hold, a look of disappointment grimaced his face watching the lad clutch his stomach.
"Better here than in the cockpit I guess."
"Motion sickness I guess from the shifting perspectives of your hot-dogging." Rité assisted Teek into the circular couch across from an instrument panel. A square table provided temporary comfort to Teek's head until he could regain composure to enter the medical hold.
"Well, it appears those damn clones sabotaged the navcomputer's coordinates to deter us from Coruscant to Dagobah according to the astrogation charts. We should be arriving to Dagobah in a few hours. From there, I can send a distress call to Corellia for assistance in reprogramming the navcomputer. The clones even protected the access with a security protocol."
"How long before a Corellian transport gets there?"
"Probably a month or two," Ric positioned himself at the instrument panel across from Rité and opened a map showing the galaxy. Dagobah highlighted on one segment while Corellia appeared on the opposite diameter close to the Core.
"May I see this recording that is causing so much trouble?" Ric requested.
Teek removed the recorder from his pocket and played the data. After watching the video, Ric heaved a sigh upon his crinkled face. Olié was a commissioned pilot, serving Naboo in the Blockade days and had even been aware of the Sith Lord, Darth Maul whom murdered the Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn. Under the revelation now that Palpatine was the Master Sith, his aging heart weighed heavy.
"It makes sense now. Should the information be revealed to the Senate and the Jedi Council, Palpatine's position will be questioned. I apologize that the Queen and Sio Bibble did not brief me earlier, only claiming diplomatic urgency that I pilot you two and your droid to Coruscant. However, once we land on Dagobah, we only have rations for a few weeks."
"Is there any life on this planet?"
"According to this, Rité, not much. The galactic charts don't have much information on this place. Appears to be swampy and no known recorded life. I doubt we'll find civilizations there, probably indigenous fauna. It's almost as if all Republic charts disregard this planet as anything of urgency since evolution did not progress here. Ever hunted for food?"
"Assuring," Teek groaned from his headrest. E3 chirped in agreement.
"We can hide out on Dagobah till I can send the distress signal. At least we're away from the Republic for some time."
Roaring from supralight field, the glowing penumbra of Dagobah gleamed in the distance. The Falcon eased slowly into normal space, banking into Dagobah's gravity well for landing. Rité eyed the murky orb from the circular cockpit windows.
"Doesn't look like much," she sighed.
Atmosphere tugged at the hull of the freighter as alarms indicated unsteady turbulence of the planet's currents. Ric Olié flicked the forward navigational lights on to assist in visual navigation. Murky fog inhibited much of any human navigation, making the journey far more perilous. Teek could nearly smell the sulfurous residue of the planet penetrating into the Falcon's hull, adding to his already queasy feelings from his first hyperspace journey.
Miasma cleared aside like a timid fleet of vulture droids revealing a landscape of harsh, knobbed trees reaching into the lower portions of atmosphere and endless murk on the floor of the forests. Ric scanned his forward clearing for any sign of a safe landing spot to accommodate the ship's size.
"That looks like a good spot," Rité pointed toward the port side of the hull. Olié engaged the retro thrusters to slow down the ship as she glided into a clearing barely the circumference of the Corellian vessel. The landing struts erected from her belly with a whine and hiss of hydraulic fluids as she settled down into a vibrant thud.
Olié unbuckled his safety harness and entered the entry way toward the cargo hold. He clutched a blaster from a panel next to the cargo bench. The landing ramp hissed open, swathing the cargo bay in sulfur and methane stench.
"At least it's breathable atmosphere, if you like the smell of regurgitated waste that is," he proclaimed toward the cockpit, "I'll explore the area around the ship, you two keep with your droid till I've setup a safety area."
The churn of rock and mud kicked up from Olié's boot as he settled onto the surface.
"Good, rock. At least she won't sink in a bog."
Surveying the surrounding encampment, a white spider scampered away in the distance, startled by the massive ship in its path. A leathery-winged bogwing flittered a few hundred meters over the landing site scouring the forest canopy above. Ric shuttered from amazement at the signs of life; some benign others malicious looking. Returning back into the ramp, Rité appeared inside the cargo hold, tending to her droid.
"I certainly hope we can get that navcomputer reprogrammed, I couldn't be more eager to leave this place. I suggest we don't leave the ship."
"How bad is it out there?"
Through his aging brow, Rité could interpret his facial response as a negative one.
"Then, what do we do," Teek asked approaching from the cockpit hold.
"I'll see if I can send that request call to Corellia."
Olié sauntered beside Teek headed for the cockpit. A wafting smell of sulfur brushed off Olié's flight suit into Teek's nostrils. A noticeable grunt and cringe struck Teek's squared facial tone as he began to cover his mouth for any further upheavals. Rité rushed over toward her friend to comfort him, guiding him toward the medical hold in the aft section of the port holds.
Ric Olié placed into the pilot's chair, switching switches and pushing buttons to activate the distress call. On the comm relay, he punched in the Holonet signature for Corellia.
"This is Ric Olié, Commander of the Naboo Royal Air Corps aboard the Millennium Falcon. Our navcomputer's astrogation charts have been tampered and reprogrammed. A failsafe protocol has been locked in preventing me from changing the navigation codes. I feel a hard reset of the computer will be necessary to reset the astrogation charts. Does anyone read?"
Olié communicated this signal onto the Holonet relays aimed for Corellia in the Core Worlds. If lucky, a response would arrive in the next few minutes. Four hours later, no peep was heard from the comm. He sent the signal again as daytime turned into dusk waning into the Dagobah night cycle. Nothing.
"Blast!" Olié scowled at the comm. Exiting the cockpit bay, the mud on his boots began to cake upon the durasteel floor trailing dried dirt onto the pasty, pristine deck. Teek and Rité had been talking inside the cargo bay, while playing a Naboo game of chance on the table. Olié sat opposite them by the instrument panel used earlier to display the readings of Dagobah.
"I can't get a response from Corellia, It's like we're dead in space. With the navcomputer shot, I can't guarantee a safe jump to any other system, should we risk running into a nebulae or worse, a sun. That'd end the trip real quick."
"Then, what can we do?" Teek raised an eyebrow, distracting from his metallic-edged cards.
"Well, can you reprogram a navcomputer, kid?"
"What about E3?"
E3 whistled in excitement.
"It's worth a shot I guess." Olié prided. He glanced down toward the humble automaton, it's robust rotunda swiveled toward the pilot as his visual socket bobbed up and down in agreement.
"I never programmed him to interact with ships." Rité protested, "I won't allow it!"
"Can't you change his programming?" Teek assured.
"It may damage his programming core." She claimed, her red hair pursing across her lips.
"Will it work?" Olié probed.
"I can try."
Rité excused herself from the cargo hold, proposing E3 to trail her. E3 rolled after her into the repair bay in the starboard aft section.
"Teek, you and I need to scout this area for possible food sources, lots of reptilian fauna, some dangerous looking. I don't know how long we'll be on this rock."
The Falcon's landing ramp descended onto the ground again, Teek and Ric egressed.
"Sorry, E3, but we can't leave this rock yet."
Rité labored a hydrospanner inside E3's open dome, working to reprogram his core to communicate to ships. A strand of firebrand strayed down her cheek onto her shoulder, her ragged tunics bunching and crinkling as she worked her arms inside E3's head. Sparks burned as acrid electric stench permeated the cargo bay; gray fumes erupted from the small droid. E3 whistled a degrading whine as his ocular lens faded into void.
Rité struggled to purse a smile through her crimson lips. Dagobah is to be her home for awhile; there are more important happenings in the galaxy she told herself. Rité smattered grease from a nearby workbench onto her countenance and garments to simulate the tenure of labor disguising her otherwise feminine features. A door leading into the cargo hold opened to reveal Teek, smelling of the rank of the surrounding swamp. He spied the smoldering dome of the astromech droid as Rité sulked onto a bench nearby.
"What happened?" He approached her, wiping a tear from her grease-covered cheek.
"I tried to reprogram him, but his core erupted and wiped his memory." Rité sobbed. Teek embraced her upon his chest, knowing how much the droid meant to her. She welcomed the embrace with a clutch of his sleeve her crying continued.
"I'm sure we'll get off this planet, Rité."
"Does the Republic even know we're here?"
"Part of me wants to hope not."
Teek assisted her off her seat, continuing into the cargo bay. There, Ric had begun to ascend the landing ramp with cooked fauna. The sweet smell of broiled meat permeated into the Falcon's bay as Ric placed a roasted carcass onto the table next to the wraparound bench.
"It tastes like duck," Ric assured its edibility, "I don't know what it is, but it tastes pretty good."
"Was it flying or crawling?" Teek pondered.
"Crawling, I think."
The trio began their feast, gouging into the body with veracity of a krayt dragon.
"What's wrong with her?" Ric asked between bites.
"The droid's memory got wiped."
"Strange. Well, looks like we're stuck here some time until Corellia responds."
"Any luck?"
"Doesn't appear so. I'll try the comm again after we eat. You two should get some rest."
The feast did little to comfort Teek's worry. Palpatine was his master now, and he had to persuade the Senate and the Jedi in a timely manner to complete his task. He had already completed one part of the task, but he urged to finalize the matter with Palpatine. His loyalty was to the New Order and he couldn't let Rité know this. Protecting her from the Jedi threat was his priority, and if he could only reach Padmé to warn her that allying with the Jedi would lead to her demise and that of the rest of the Republic.
Days turned to weeks, inching toward a month. Corellia hadn't even sent a faint response of acceptance and no Republic ships entered Sluis Sector space. The crew of the Millennium Falcon could be considered dead as far as the galaxy was concerned. Teek had begun to grow accustomed to his surroundings, albeit in a disgusted acceptance. Each day he reminded himself of the importance of his mission. Palpatine must be satisfied.
Ric Olié turned a welder torch onto an open instrument panel on the port mandible to repair a lighting conduit. Teek aided by holding wires to be soldered. Carbon score smoke entered Teek's nostrils; awkward thoughts crossed his mind wondering if his fingers would soon be soldered to the wiring. A whining lizard disrupted Teek's thoughts as he traced his head over his shoulder to see Rité seated with her legs crossed on the moist bog.
"Hey kid, you wanna watch what you're doing?" Olié scolded.
"Wha? Oh, yeah, sorry." He returned his gaze onto the bonding work. A glaring essence emanated from the port mandible as the navigation lights shone into the dense jungle forest ahead.
Clunk!
A rock clamored against another behind Teek. Rité appeared motionless while a pair of rocks orbited around her head almost touched by an invisible force. Teek scrutinized the scene harder unknowing what Rité was doing, but suspecting the Force was at work.
"If I may be excused, Captain?"
"Sure, I can finish up here." Olié allowed.
Teek straddled equipment and contours to slide down the access hatch to the outer hull into the cargo hold. He erupted from the starboard loading ramp and strode over to Rité's settled form. Sensing his presence, Rité questioned his motives.
"What is it, Teek?" She asked, eyes sealed shut like a fresh welding mold. Teek had less than two meters approach when the question startled him.
"You're using the Force?" He queried, "But shouldn't you be at the Jedi Temple?"
The orbiting satellites eased onto the ground in an orderly fashion flanking Rité's knees. Emerald eyes appeared from the fiery hair as her thoughts exited the ethereal into the physical worlds. A sigh pushed a lock of hair violently from her face as she sulked toward the marsh.
"I didn't want to tell you."
Teek approached his friend, placing a palm upon her right shoulder. She brushed it away as he began to kneel beside her. She turned her head towards her companion, "Don't tell Ric, ok?"
"But, I don't understand. Why weren't you taken to the Temple when you were younger?"
"Palpatine's orders. Shortly after he became Chancellor, he decreed that no Jedi be taken from Naboo for fear of unneeded homeworld influence in the Council, to respect the neutrality of the Jedi."
Teek nodded his head in assured agreement, "Who's training you?"
"I can't say. Not even you. No offense. Please respect the confidentiality of the Jedi."
"I see."
"There's something more I have to tell you. The Force has guided me to another soul."
"Another soul? Here on Dagobah or elsewhere in the galaxy?"
Rité faced forward, releasing another sigh as a swamp creature bubbled and burped musty gas from the bog ahead of them.
"Here, on Dagobah."
"There's other life here that can help us?" Teek astonishingly asked.
"I'm afraid not," Rité lowered her head towards her stomach, "The other soul is inside me. Teek, you and I made another soul."
Teek's face flushed with shock. Blush escaped his cheeks as a slow grin replaced the redness.
"You mean, I'm going to be a father? This is great news. But, we need to leave Dagobah. We're not going to raise the child here."
Teek continued to question the news. His loyalty to Palpatine came into question. Not only must Rité be protected, but so must his unnamed child. Could he raise his child amongst an Empire or a democratic Republic? His loyalty was to the Republic believing the New Order was just. He recalled empires of the past as he read them in the academy. Rité leaned onto his shoulders, grasping across his chest for comfort. He couldn't raise his child in a society of scrutiny and pervasive surveillance.
"Rité, I must tell you something too. This recording is only a test; a test to prove my loyalty to Palpatine and his proposed New Order. He proposes an Empire and I'm inclined to believe the recording when he claims to be a Sith. The Galaxy ruled by the Sith, under a secure society of scrutinizing martial law. I can't live like that. I can't raise our child like that. The Republic must be saved and we need to urgently provide this recording to Senator Amidala and Binks in hopes of removing Palpatine from office. I'm sorry, dear. This must be done. Palpatine must be impeached since his loyalties are to the Sith, not the Republic."
"That's a noble cause, Teek. But if we arrive on Coruscant, the Republic will certainly arrest us knowing we have this information."
"I'm sure Captain Olié can alter the transponder codes to note that we are not from Naboo."
Teek leaned back onto the marsh, propping himself with his arms behind his body as Rité leaned her head onto his lap as a pillow. Gazing into Teek's thoughts with her physical and ethereal eyes, she sensed uncertainty in his inflection. A soft hand reached onto his face as she propped herself upright to kiss him.
You must leave soon…
Rité arose from her comforts; matted hair clumped from her slumber, as she glanced down towards Teek's resting body. She clasped a pair of tunics from the nearby bench placing them over her pastel form. Exiting her sleeping bay, she entered the cargo hold quietly as if the Force influenced her motions. Ric Olié rested onto the curved bench next to the instrument panel, snores erupting quickly and loudly. Rité swiftly glided into the cockpit foyer, glancing one last time towards the cargo hold, she rushed into the cockpit.
Her feminine figure formed into the pilot's seat with the grace of an Iegan. Punching buttons across the control panel, a display for the navcomputer presented itself prompting for the protocol override. She keyed in the password as the navcomputer login accessed her to the primary console. Planets scrolled across the screen as she made her way toward Coruscant. Entering a second override, the coordinates appeared upon the view. She corrected the coordinates to the proper entry; zero, zero, zero.
Dagobah's murky gasses disguised the single star to a small sliver of light gleaming into the forest canopy. What the canopy didn't cover, the fogs did. Ric prepared breakfast; another skinned reptilian animal carcass, his activities aided by the glow lamp rested next to him. Teek assisted with the meal by skinning another dead carcass to be stewed in the paristeel pot that currently roasted the repast. Flames crackled the reptilian stew ensuring any cultures living inside the otherworldly fauna would not be fatal.
Stench of salted meats permeated the contrasting Dagobah swamps into a sweet iconoclast aroma drenching the nostrils of the two cooks. Rité's flamboyant run from the Falcon interrupted the job the men undertook. A glimmer of glee encompassed her face as Teek arose to greet her.
"I think I've fixed the navcomputer. I cracked the override codes the clone garrison implanted to secure their sabotage." Rité concealed her lie well, knowing Teek would not question her statement.
Ric arose from his task, "That's great! Why couldn't you try two months ago?"
"You never asked. You requested the services of my droid, remember?" Her soft demeanor reminded.
"Point taken," his eyes condescended towards her face in an insulting manner. Of his years of service and experience with many young pilots and cadets he could only conclude that she lied. Rité returned his untrusting glare with an equally harsh stare as he carried the pot of stew back toward the Falcon, "We leave after breakfast." He scornfully continued.
A nest of bogwings fluttered in confusion from the echo-locations erupting from the Millennium Falcon's massive engines raising the craft above the forest canopy. An adult dragonsnake found advantage as the fearsome serpent erected from the bog nearby to consume a few lower altitude creatures from the disorder. The deafening roar continued towards other creatures as white spiders and other odd variants scuttled about on the canopy floor, aware now the imposing ship has vacated their home. Dagobah's atmosphere parted like soup as a spoon would pierce it allowing the Falcon to exit the gravitational pull of the swamp planet.
"Let's hope this works," Olié noted, displaying subtle confidence with Rité's abilities as he gleamed into her eyes.
Distant stars erupted into hyperspace whitewash as the Sluis Sector became a distant, unnerving memory.