Disclaimer: The Star Wars and Harry Potter copyrights lie with their respective owners, should any of them have any problem with my story being shared, I will comply with their wishes and remove it from circulation.
Please do not copy this work or any part of it.
Chapter 21: Outsiders
Watching Seerdon's place, even after three days of laying low and waiting for the corrupt officer to calm down, turned out to be a supremely unsatisfying experience. All the while she was waiting there, on a ledge at the side of a skyscraper, somewhat out of view so the occasional patrol would not spot their observation post, thinking there was somewhere else she would much rather be. Someone else she would much rather be with. Leia had managed to find a god rapport with Iabaes, who was still mostly pulling watch shifts with her, but her boyfriend was severely, grievously ill and she wanted to be with him, not doing the bidding of some jumped-up Imperial washout with an ego to rival the size of Jabba, his main competitor. Oh, if she ever got the opportunity, Zann would most definitely regret this whole thing, just as he would destroying those Alliance ships over Chandrila when he was rooting through the wreckage of the Death Star.
"I'm getting tired of this…" the Mandalorian sitting next to her echoed Leia's exact thoughts from minutes earlier. "He's well and truly spooked, won't come out in weeks, if he can manage. I bet daddy can swing that, make sure his superiors don't complain. I know the type."
"So…" Leia left the question hanging in the air, not having had any sudden flashes of wit as to how they might get the man out of his apartment, then off of Coruscant without getting the entire Imperial Centre fleet on their case. Or possibly show up appara… Huh, maybe she had her flash of inspiration. "Iabaes, can you tell me more about Black Sun tactics? Anything about the local heads?"
And so, the former mercenary told her what she knew of the local operations of the Black Sun, a crime syndicate so all-encompassing some considered its head the third-most powerful being in the galaxy. How the organisation had managed to grow the way it had to have, to reach these proportions, was anyone's guess, though if she had to point to something, then poverty, lax law enforcement and corrupt officials would probably feature high up on that list. It was depressingly close to why it had been easy enough for Harry's outfit to remain unchallenged, or how the Alliance had been able to grow into a force big enough to worry the Empire. Still, so much for the Emperor's talk of law and order, finally restored under his benevolent reign. Of course, there was also that persistent rumour Iabaes repeated to her concerning a possible association between Palpatine and the organisation's boss, a Falleen by the name Xizor.
"It could just be a rumour obviously," she eventually allowed, shrugging her shoulders, a gesture that seemed odd without the plates of armour to both accentuate and dampen the movement. "For me, they're too persistent to be completely without merit, though. You want Black Sun to take the fall for this?"
"Yes, yes I do," Leia agreed happily, already mulling the possibilities over in her head. "I can apparate, I've already tried again, and with how large Black Sun is, they would have access to stealth technology, right? Not to mention, the means to surprisingly black out part of a skyscraper."
The answer came with a snort. "If Xizor wanted it to happen, he could have all of Coruscant blacked out, just at a whim, because he was bored. Wouldn't do that, as far as I've heard people whisper about his character, but the fact is, he could. Will you tell me, what you're planning, already?"
"All in good time," the younger woman replied with a smirk. "First I need to brief Winter, see what she thinks of this."
OOOOOOOO
Even after inspiration had struck with Leia, it took an inordinate amount of time to set it all up. Most of what they needed, they already had, but what they did not, was not easy to get. Eventually, Iabaes managed to sniff out a slicer good enough to do what they wanted him to, but morally questionable enough to not overly doubt their motives. Beyond that, things were mostly already there; of course, there were explosives, almost caringly handed to them by Arden before their departure from Sanctuary. As far as the three who knew her well enough were concerned, that was an enormous sign of how much they mean to the Dathomirian. Then there were of course the airspeeders, one of which was now of a different model, after the old one had gone up in a blaze of glory. Then, obviously, there had been the difficulty involved in procuring the specific type of blaster with the same kind of blaster gas the local Black Sun boss was using; that information had been procured by Jane, playing up what pretty much the entire galaxy thought about the Twi'leks, and ingratiating herself with the whores of the brothel he liked to frequent, claiming she was a newly freed slave, desperately looking for work.
All in all, most of the effort in doing the entire thing had really been in the prep-work. And now, almost a week later, things were almost anticlimactic. From the safehouse, whose sole other occupant was now Winter, Leia apparated directly next to Seerdon's couch, a place she had seen so much over their entire stay on Coruscant, it would have been hard to miss. Obviously, beyond a heavy baton, she was unarmed, as every piece of technology she took that used even the tiniest bit of electricity was bound to react… unfavourably. Only the mechanical watch on her wrist, the tool that allowed her to coordinate with Iabaes, was still merrily ticking away in the silence into which she popped.
As expected at this time of the evening, their target was comfortably lying on his couch, a decadent piece a commander's salary should never have covered. On the viewscreen, something pornographic had stopped mid-scene, probably from the blackout Iabaes had organised for exactly this time. There had to be some kind of back-up power cell inside the screen, though for the life of herself, Winter and Harry, Leia had no idea, why that was in any way necessary. Now, it just showed a still image (including a collared, red-skinned Twi'lek and three tattooed Zabraks), and the pride of the ISB himself was furiously masturbating into a sock. It was obvious that, in the moment of her arrival, he must have reached climax, what with the somewhat punch-drunk expression and the slackening hand on his penis. Seerdon barely had time to react to the fact that the lights had gone out and that there was suddenly someone else in the room with him, let alone pull up his pants, before the black nightstick had landed on the back of his head with a sickening crunch.
The same, however, could not be said for his double/bodyguard, and the second Seerdon she had considered so incredibly boring just over a week earlier was now charging at the young woman who had attacked its owner. Now, Leia's wandless spell inventory was still somewhat sparse, but a stunner was well withing the range of her abilities, and it felled first the aggressive droid, then the man that droid was trying to protect, just to keep him from waking up before his time. Not trusting herself with apparating more than one person… or thing, at a time, the princess grabbed first the bodyguard, popped over to the safehouse, then came back and did the same for the actual commander. All told, even with short breaks for taking a few breaths between the constant apparitions, it took less than five minutes.
"They really do look remarkably alike," Winter observed, standing next to her sister, as the latter took in deep gulps of the moderately fresh air of the safehouse. Then, the blue eyes that had been eying Seerdon and his body-double critically, turned to do the same with Leia, "Maybe you should get one, as well. You seem to be getting in enough trouble to warrant it."
With anyone else, the princess would have believed this observation to be a joke. With Winter, however, it was sometimes hard to tell. "Another time, maybe," she gasped, walking unsteadily toward the blaster pistol lying on the table in the corner. It was a restricted model, military use only, which obviously meant, prices on the black market were accordingly high, but the things were far from unavailable. The most important aspect though remained the fact that it also bore the exact same configuration of the local Black Sun boss' weapon of choice. Hesitating just a moment to get herself acquainted with the unusual handling, Leia shot the replica droid three times: once in the leg from behind, like she was shooting someone trying to flee, twice in the head. It was how someone wanting to make sure the target was definitely dead would do it, Iabaes had said. How exactly she knew that the Alderaanian royal was reluctant to question with any kind of depth.
"Even the wounds look suitably life-like," her sister commented, leaning down to look over the charred synth-skin despite the acrid stench of burnt flesh. Then, she reminded Leia, "One to the chest, near the power source. There needs to be a reason for all the fried circuitry your apparition left."
Already coughing from the blaster wounds' fumes in the less than well ventilated safehouse, Leia nevertheless fired off one last shot into the droid's back, in an area, that was likely to be close enough to the generator as to explain why all of the construct's electronics were thoroughly destroyed, not just the ones near the wounds.
"Can you manage one more jump?" Winter then questioned, looking her up and down with the caring gaze of a sister, a side she rarely showed to anyone but those closest to her. "You seem rather worn out."
"I'll manage," Leia answered, stubbornly grabbing the Droid-Seerdon's shoulder and pulling him along with her to a poorly lit alley in the lower levels beneath the ISB head offices. There, she simply deposited the 'body' and did one last apparition of the day, back to the safe house. From there, it was a short walk to one of the guest cabins on the Dromedary and the inviting bed it held ready for her. As for the real Seerdon, well, she had full confidence in the people with her, considering they only had to deal with a physically unimpressive, stunned man.
OOOOOOOO
When Leia awoke, still fully clothed and suitably smelly, the low hum of the hyperdrive was already filling the ship. Distastefully sniffing her own state of lacking hygiene, she quickly got up, disrobed and settled in under the warm shower. With the soothing streams of water running down her skin, not just the grime and sweat she had accumulated during her latest mission was being washed away, but also at least part of her tension, her worries. Not all of them, mind you, not even most; Harry was still on Sanctuary, in stasis. She was still wondering about her own shifting loyalties, at times fearing she would one day be forced to choose. Or maybe watch even more of the people close to her leave and die, taken away by the Empire or some other cruel twist of fate. Unbidden, the dream she had suffered through on Coruscant, after being rescued by Weltic, came to mind. After all, dreams were just manifestations of our unconscious thoughts, her mother had once told a much younger princess after a harrowing nightmare of burning flesh and bitter disappointment, of hatred and rage and loss.
When otherwise, she might have let herself enjoy the rare opportunity to shower both in peace and with real water for some time, Leia's whirling thoughts would not let her, this time. There was a chronometer in the cabin she had claimed as hers, obviously, but she had neglected to look at it, and was now itching to find out how long she had been out. Judging by how filthy she had felt when she woke up, compared to how relatively tolerable when she went to sleep, it had to have been quite a long time, and she felt herself reminded of the times when her boyfriend would magically overexert himself; she had always given him trouble over it, but it was easier to cross that line than she ever thought possible, it seemed.
Why exactly she felt the need to dress in one of her old senatorial gowns, one of those simple, white, long dresses she had never liked all that much, was beyond her, and it was probably a bad idea; the piece was not exactly the height of fashion and few outside the ranks of the Imperial senators and possibly their aides wore them, and if she went to talk to Seerdon, he would be sure to notice. Then again, the likelihood of the commander leaving Sanctuary with the memory of his captivity intact was close to nothing, and even then, he would be a fool to return to the Empire, her plan ensured that. At best, he would be shot as a deserter; at worst, he would be tortured, interrogated and then shot as a traitor, a corrupt official who had sold the ISB out to Black Sun. With everything she had seen, however, barring the surprisingly cunning ruse that was the replica droid, the idea that Maximilian Seerdon might be a fool did not seem overly far-fetched. To get involved with Black Sun as a mostly disposable asset you most definitely had to be exactly that, as well as greedy and lacking in morals.
Either that or he was being blackmailed, obviously, and would that not make for an interesting parallel to their current situation with the Consortium?
A blaster pistol now strapped to her hip, an interesting contrast to the senatorial gown, Leia eventually left the moderate cabin behind. In the circular hallway, she stopped for a moment to listen; there were muffled voices coming from the lounge to the bow of the ship, three of them. Apparently, they were deep into hyperspace and the astromech was currently manning the cockpit.
"Sister," Winter greeted her, about as serenely as she always did. Seeing the normally stoic woman back to exactly that usual stoicism was refreshingly mundane.
"Slept well?" Iabaes questioned, looking up from the game she was playing with Jane. Both of them had been staring at a holographic game board, short-handled holographic blades stabbed into the chequered surface. "Definitely long."
Leia nodded happily; she was feeling that happy tingling all over her body that only came with truly exerting yourself, only not mangled by the pesky muscle soreness actual physical exertion would have entailed. "I did. How long?"
"18 hours," her sister answered, eyes riveted to the board game once again, flicking from the players' positions to the players themselves. "Our guest is still unconscious, if that was what you wanted to ask next."
It had indeed been the next question already on the tip of her tongue, but now that it was already answered, she simply fell silent and sat down on the remaining free side of the quadratic holo game board and continued to watch the game, even though she had no idea, what was going on in said game. Just the light distraction was enough, for now.
"It's called Cu'bikal," Iabaes eventually offered while it looked like Jane was trying to figure out her next move. "A strategy game developed by the old Mandalorians, no one really knows, how far back it goes. Supposed to teach you rudimentary tactics and strategy. Some of my people think, outsiders should not play it, but I don't really see the problem."
Then, with a predatory glint in her eyes, she added, "As long as the outsiders keep losing, that is."
Apparently, the Twi'lek's move had not been a beneficial one, if the victorious smirk on the warrior's face was anything to go by; with visible glee, Iabaes moved one of her holographic knifes a few squares toward Jane, and if the fallen expression on her opponent's face was anything to go by, the game had just ended.
"Next time, make sure you don't leave any gaps in your front," Iabaes told her, pointing out where Leia guessed the fatal mistake must have been made. "Or better yet, leave an opening that's only the bait in a trap."
Eagerly, Jane nodded, and the board was soon reset. The young Alderaanian was just about ready to settle in and watch next game, hoping to understand what exactly the rules were about, when the motion sensors they had installed in Seerdon's makeshift 'cell' went off. As one, the three of them rose and, led by Winter, the group ambled into the back of the craft, the other way around the circular hallway. The door of the last room on the ship's right, unlike every other room all around the saucer section's circumference, was locked tightly, accessible with a code cylinder the crew were all wearing somewhere on their persons. When the door swished open, the sight that greeted the group was rather pitiful: having scooted to the back of the bed, all the way into the corner of the room that was furthers away from the access point, Commander Maximilian Seerdon was cowering, fearfully watching the foursome that had entered his erstwhile domicile.
"I… I warn you, I'm with the ISB," he half growled, half squeaked, almost as if he himself did not buy his threat. "If…If you let me go now, no one needs to hear about this, you can all go your wa…"
"Give it a rest, you whimpering fool," Iabaes interrupted the man, freezing him mid-sentence. "As if we didn't know about all your employers when we took you. In fact, you might want to show some gratitude. It's likely we're the reason you're alive."
"I don't know what you're…"
"Oh, look at yourself," the Mandalorian continued, eyeing their captive from top to bottom, left to right with the same general countenance Leia had often seen the Imperial elites look at just about anyone that was not a human. "You don't even believe your own lies, but I'll still do you the curtesy of summarising your current situation: You are an idiot, or so it seems, who coasted by on his father's reputation to get into the posting you have now. Then, you saw a way to a few extra credits, maybe even told yourself you weren't doing anything wrong, because technically, you were still doing your job, just for two different masters. So, you directed the Empire to act against the Zann Consortium, which now wants you dead, so they hired and blackmailed us into killing you."
The gulp on Seerdon's part was almost comically audible. "Luckily for you…" Iabaes went on, and a small ray of hope looked to be shining into the suddenly bleak world of the now former Imperial and disgraced son of Moff Seerdon. The Mandalorian was pointing at Leia and Jane, now, "…we still have intact moral codes, and at least two of us would be feel majorly conflicted about murdering you. Therefore, we'll present Zann with a convincing lookalike of your dead 'body'. Obviously, you can't be walking around for that ruse to work, so you're coming with us. Sounds great, I know."
Despite the forced levity Iabaes had brought into the situation, their involuntary guest still seemed to be waiting for the hammer to drop.
"That's the good news," the warrior admitted, with an affected shrug. "Now, for the bad news: Aside from Zann, the Empire will also probably want you dead now, as will the Black Sun. So, you know, maybe you really are better off staying with us for just about… well, ever. See, Zann will be gone with time, as will the Empire. But Black Sun? Can only hope they're not too mad, or that the guy you were dealing with was not important enough to make much of a fuss. See, we kind of made it look like you tried to frame them for your murder before deserting."
Whatever the opposite of stride was, Seerdon was taking this situation in it, and in a way, Leia could understand him; everything he had known all his life, all the privilege he had grown up with, was now suddenly being stripped away. A bit like someone had just blown up his entire world before his eyes. With that thought came a wave of bitter resentment she had seldom felt toward an ex-Imperial, for most of the ones she ran into had actually chosen to either desert, or even defect to the Alliance, once they saw the Empire for what it actually was. This man, though, had not only given his loyalty to the people who killed her entire planet, but had then sold them out to other people just as vicious, just to satisfy his own greed.
"Now, and don't you lie to us, why did you work for Black Sun?"
"They threat…" For a moment, it seemed as if Seerdon had been planning to spin them a sob story, and it was likely to be not completely untrue, really. From what Leia knew about the way pretty much any gang operated, if you ever even gave them so much as a little finger, they would pull you in and take not only the hand and arm, but eventually the entirety of your being. With every little betrayal, they held a little more sway, a little more blackmail material, and soon, it was either complete ruin, or complete servitude. "I was greedy, they had me run a few errands for them. Then bigger stuff, until the first time I… the first time I falsified a report."
"Remember that feeling," Winter suddenly broke into the conversation, baleful eyes resting on the captive before them. Her voice was filled with venom. "It's guilt, a bad conscience, just the tiniest beginnings of it. If you continue feeling that way, I might just reconsider my stance on delivering your actual head to Zann on a silver platter."
With a light woosh of her pale, long cloak, the daughter of the late Bale and Breha Organa was gone, leaving behind an utterly befuddled former ISB commander and three worried women.
"Should we go after her?" Jane questioned, looking primarily at Leia for answers on her sister's behaviour, even though sometimes, Winter was as much of an enigma to one of her few remaining family members as she was to others.
"No, she'll want to be alone, at least for a while," she assured the Twi'lek, thinking to herself she would go looking for her childhood companion a bit later. Obviously, the memories of Alderaan still haunted her, haunted them both, though probably not equally as acutely. In Seerdon's direction, she added, "Your Empire destroyed her planet, so I suggest you leave her alone. Until you display a believable intent to be anything else, we consider you an enemy combatant, a prisoner of war. I suggest you use your time to think about the future."
With that, and now with Leia in the lead, the remaining three left the impromptu prison cell behind, and the sole remaining Alderaanian of the group had a feeling, someone would be bringing up the bottle of Corellian brandy she knew to be stashed somewhere in the lounge.
OOOOOOOO
The Dromedary reached Sanctuary barely three days later. When the gleaming hull broke through the thick cover of clouds blanketing the location of the base that day, they were once again greeted by the sight of change having occurred on the ground. A few of the ships that had once been standing around on their various landing spots had vanished, likely to complete any shipping or personal transportation contracts that had recently come in. The large bulk freighter they had taken from the pirates harassing Mandal Hypernautics, on the other hand, had returned from its trip core-wards, with a bevy of vehicles and people now streaming to-and-fro, unloading the various goods that it must have brought along. A bit off the beaten path, looking somewhat forlorn among the empty concrete pads reserved for the YT-2000s and their fighter escorts, the Lightbringer was waiting to set out into the depths of space once more, even though that was unlikely to happen anytime soon with its captain laid up in the infirmary.
Around the Raider-II corvette, there was indeed only one pad that held another ship: the Morningstar, almost as if to lend some emotional support to its bigger, deadlier brother, had obviously returned from whatever mission Kisc and his crew had been sent to complete. Maybe a minor bounty, or one of the occasional intelligence missions for the Alliance they sometimes undertook. The Rebellion was, after all, still looking for a base, and the Pacifier scout ship was ideally suited to be looking for one. A bit closer to the base proper rested the Decimator they had most recently taken to Bimmisaari, though it too, was devoid of life.
However, the same could not be said for the base, itself: along with the myriad people unloading the large transport, all of them still sporting either Imperial uniforms or the ones Mercer had designed for the people working directly with Harry, a number of others could be seen. Mostly human, they looked like they had been taken directly from out of a warzone. As they closed in, Leia could make out some missing limbs, a few wounds that looked to be inflicted by blasters, general malnourishment. In short, the people her boyfriend would have liked to help. It was rather gratifying to see that his people had obviously accepted that same attitude and taken whoever these poor, unfortunate souls were, with them. Still, the more sensible part of her worried, whether they would actually be able to add something to the budding society here on Sanctuary, both for the sake of the colony and their own.
"Setting her down now," Jane announced from the pilot's chair in front of Leia, settling the ship with nary a shudder onto the pavement of its assigned landing pad. "Shutting down systems… everything shut down."
As she heard that, Leia was up in a flash and already jogging to the exit ramp. Along the hallway, she almost ran into Iabaes, now once again resplendent in her Mandalorian armour, her beskar'gam, and looking much more her natural self for it. Still, the small, amused snort was audible even through the helmet.
"Go, find Harry," the older woman told her reassuringly. "We'll get Seerdon to the detention block."
No further confirmation needed, Leia was off; down the ramp and onto the pavement, from there over the compressed earth that constituted most of the rest of the area around the landing pads, past the large entry gates of the base's vehicle hangars and onto the floor of durasteel the entire monolith was made of. The turbolift could not come quickly enough, as far as she was concerned, and when it was finally there, she was trembling slightly as she pushed the button for Level 5, where much of what would have been personnel quarters on Levels 1 through 4 had been given over to the infirmary meant to keep the staff healthy on long deployments.
She was beginning to draw stares, Leia knew, as she hurried through the last few corridors still dividing her from Harry, but even though she had been anticipating and dreading the moment for more than a week now, it still hit her right in the heart: There, one a crisp, white linen sheet, covered by a thin blanket lay her boyfriend, his left arm grotesquely misshapen, metallic tumours lining his flesh all the way up to just under his elbow. And next to the bed, wand pointed at him, stood Arden; she was sweating, not profusely so, but visibly, with large rings under her eyes that spoke of her lack of sleep.
"Sorry," the obviously exhausted witch croaked through chapped lips. "I couldn't find a cure quickly enough; the stasis charm isn't working anymore without me holding it up."
Then, Leia could watch as the last of her resolve left her, leaving the Dathomirian to collapse to the sterile ground, and Harry defenceless against the enemy from within seeking to turn him into a lifeless husk.
OOOOOOOO
Later, Leia would have been unable to clearly describe, when she had fallen asleep exactly. What she was sure about later, though, was how she was feeling when she woke up, and what it had been that woke her in the first place. As to the former: terrible. Sleeping in a chair pulled up to your unconscious boyfriend's hospital bed, head resting on said bed, did not lend itself to a good night's sleep, and was more likely than not going to lead to a severely cramped neck come the morning. Concerning the latter, it was rather obvious: A cry of pain the likes of which she had never heard before from anyone but herself under the tender mercies of the Empire's torturers on the Death Star permeated the room.
Almost immediately, she sat ramrod straight, looking around for the attacker, and it took a moment to dawn on her, that there was no attacker. Another moment later, and she noticed Harry's severed forearm, the one covered in metallic nodes and dying flesh, lying on the no longer clean bedding. Like he was in a trance, he then turned the wand he had used to cleanly amputate his arm on the remainder of the appendage. A hiss of pain, barely intelligible, escaped his lips, "Flagrante!"
Another cry of pain tore through the room, though this one was, mercifully much shorter. Shocked beyond measure, Leia reached out to touch him, only to recoil in horror as his skin burned her flesh like it was a sizzling cooking plate and not the soft, vulnerable skin of the man she loved. By now, the stench of smoke was beginning to fill her nostrils, and for the first time, she noticed the bedding had caught fire, burning his skin like his skin had burnt her. Overhead, the automatic sprinkler system was activated, dousing the room in water, as any extended fire was at risk of combining with the pure oxygen supplied through the walls for any patient who needed it.
Luckily, she was spared from taking further action when Arden, still bleary-eyed but obviously from close by, stormed into the room, staff already raised. Her eyes flicked around the room, from the ruined bedding to the severed forearm, to the burns Harry had already suffered.
"What did he do?" The witch questioned Leia intently. "What magic did he use? I need to counter it."
Internally shaking herself, then repeating the same action in the physical dimension, Leia forced herself to look away from Harry's vulnerable form on the bed and toward the Dathomirian. She succeeded for the second it took to inform the other woman.
"Flagrante, the incantation was flagrante," she hurried out, eyes snapping back and forth between wizard and witch, now.
"Crafty little bugger," Arden muttered under her breath, even as she began weaving her wand in an intricate pattern all around him, all the while being drenched by the fire-suppression systems. "Kill it with fire…"
It took only another two minutes, and the entire episode was over with. The medi droids were moving Harry from the ruined bed to a bacta tank, when he woke up once more and waved Leia over.
"Sorry… had to see this…" he groaned out, the pain of his wounds making him short of breath. "Woke up… someone tripped… alarm ward… Fidelius crystal…"
With a small gust of air escaping his mouth, he once again fell into unconsciousness, and immediately, his features relaxed, his breathing got easier. Now insistent on moving their patient, one of the bulkier medi droids simply shoved Leia out of the way as she was processing, what he had said to her.
He had been woken up by someone tripping the outer alarm ward on the crystal holding Sanctuary's Fidelius charm. That information immediately had all alarm bells ringing. Perhaps desperate for something to do, she left behind the infirmary now stinking of death and smoke and burnt flesh, calling for Arden to accompany her. Soon, Mercer, Iabaes, Javoc and Corsek had joined them as well. The group quickly armed themselves and jumped onto one of the more utilitarian speeders, a hoversled to be exact. Not as quick as a genuine speeder but more suited for their current objective.
"Someone triggered an alarm ward at the site where the Fidelius charm is anchored on the planet," Leia informed the others who had only been told there was an emergency, and they were to appear as quickly as possible. "Hold your fire, down there, we don't want to damage the ward crystal. And stay at least two metres away from the thing, or you'll be turned into some kind of animal."
When everyone affirmed their understanding, she steered the somewhat unwieldy craft out of the vehicle bay and onto the large plain upon which the base had been placed. Luckily, she could still remember as if it had been just yesterday where they had placed the small, underground structure that housed the best, and probably only defence their Sanctuary had against the dangers of the galaxy. No one spoke on their short flight, and in the grim atmosphere enhanced by the still gloomy rather gloomy light under the thick cloud cover, the time went on both acutely too quickly, and agonizingly slowly. Eventually, though, they reached the trapdoor leading down to the small antechamber. Iabaes went in first, as the only member of the group wearing armour, but Leia came right after. Once again, it was possible to make out three distinct voices, and while at first, everything seemed to be an unknown language at best, and absolutes gibberish at worst, she was soon beginning to make out words she knew, words she had picked up from her boyfriend.
"Don't fgjh any dwdoe." A female voice, the tone seemingly warning of something. "Asd a hfefdgltwprjneo ward."
Once again lead by Iabaes, the small team formed up on the small door leading into the structure proper and then, on the warrior's command, they stormed in and surrounded the three interlopers. One woman, two men.
"Hands in the air!" The Mandalorian ordered, and even though the three seemed unable to properly understand the words, the two blaster pistols she liked to use in close quarters seemed to more than make up for any language barrier. "Who are you?! How did you get in here?!"
The three were still looking at the armed people now quickly surrounding them while still maintaining a healthy distance from the ward stone itself. Iabaes, meanwhile, repeated her demands, in Huttese, if Leia was not mistaken. Then again, no language any of the others, save perhaps Arden, knew, would be understandable to these three. When the Mandalorian began trying Sy Bisti and only got confused looks in return, Leia knew it was time to intervene. On her silent order, a simple hand gesture was enough after the time they had spent together on Coruscant, watching the boring life of a human replica droid, the older woman ceased her attempts. Holstering her pistol to take some of the tension out of the situation, the Alderaanian stepped forward and looked into the brown eyes of the female intruder, as she seemed to be the group's leader.
"Who you are?" she questioned in broken English, never heaving actively learned the language. "Why here?"
"I ha Hermione Granger. These fgz George kil Neville," the woman with the bushy hairs she now recognised from Harry's stories of his original home introduced herself, pointing at herself and her two companions in turn. "Tkwq looking for Harry Potter."
OOOOOOOO
AN: Hi all,
The last chapter of the second instalment; rejoice and despair! I'm working on the third, have a rough outline and ten chapters done. No idea, when I will be finished, but I am only going to start publishing, when the last metaphorical stroke of the pen has been done.
I hope you've enjoyed the journey so far as much as I have. I would enjoy hearing your various thoughts in the reviews, be they good or constructively negative.
And now, to make every single Star Wars fan mad at me: Live long and prosper.
alexandertheII
