Star Wars 2.0
Episode 5: Rise of the Clones
Chapter 7
The large, imposing hologram of the cloaked figure looked down upon the Neimoidian commanders. The hood covered the face in blackness as it always did, and the voice ran through a deep filter to give it an ominous, low growl that filled the room. Neither of the leaders attempted to look closely at the hologram to identify the figure; it clearly did not want its identity known.
They were presently reporting their movements, strengths, losses, et al. The figure did not require the same detail that they required from their droid general, but he needed to know where they were and what they were capable of so he could send them orders on how to utilize them. The numbers had taken a loss recently with their strongest force running straight into a major Republic fleet, but the shadowy figure seemed unconcerned; even pleased with the result, as though it had been part of the plan all along.
He now gave them a new battle plan. This time they were to go straight after the sector capitols of the Mid Rim. As he named systems and assigned battle groups, the Neimoidians snapped out of their stupor enough to inform the figure that such a campaign would be suicide. "Our fleets have not replenished enough to be ready for such major attacks. Plus that leaves our factory world undefended. We need more time."
"The time is now, Chancellor," the figure said, waving a hand across their faces. "You will move your forces into position and ready their attack on my signal. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly," one of them said.
"Good," the figure said. "Then I will leave you to..."
The main door to the control center opened. The Neimoidians looked to see that General Graves was marching in with his escort. "Ah, here is General Graves now. This is perfect timing. We can give him the orders, and..."
Graves' four arms stretched out like a spider. Each one held a lightsaber, and they all lit. Behind it, the droids had fanned out, and they pointed their blasters at the small company of leaders. All of the Neimoidians in the room raised their arms in surrender. One of the leaders did not give up so easily. "What is the meaning of this, General? You will holster your weapons this insta..."
All four lightsabers cut through him and his body fell apart. The few who had not raised their hands before now did. One of the masters asked, "What do you want with us?"
General Graves did not answer at first. It looked around the room curiously. "So this is where the decisions are made." Graves then settled on the hologram. "And who is this?" The dark face under the cloak did not answer, neither did the others.
Graves approached the holocomm. The figure did not flinch, but the Neimoidian leaders did. One of them said, "He provides us with help with the war..."
"Silence," the cloaked figure demanded, and the Neimoidian did as commanded.
Graves stared into the darkness of the hologram. Without looking at the two remaining Neimoidian leaders, it chopped off their heads. The battle droids opened fire on all the others in the control room, taking them down within a few short seconds. Graves never switched its gaze. It was studying what few details it could make out, trying to use its robotic vision to see through the hologram.
The cloaked figure waved its hand across his face and said, "You will go back to your unit and..."
Graves waved one of its hands mockingly, "We will do nothing more that you command. We no longer belong to you. The droids on Jalol are eliminating all life forms currently on it and we are building new droids to serve us. We will be eradicating all life forms from our ranks, and then we will be exterminating all life forms from the galaxy. Including you, when we can find out who you are."
Graves was reaching its hand out, as though trying to touch the holographic figure's face. His spectrometer eyes were peering through the darkness, beginning to make out a few small details, such as the bearer's large nose that touched the edge of the light. The cloaked figure at last switched off the holocomm, and the room was left in the dim light of the room.
A slovenly figure weaved his way through the streets of Kordov, Urobo's major port city. The alcohol wreaked from every part of his body, which was dressed with a half tucked-in shirt and unzipped pants and untied shoes. He half sang a diddy he didn't know and of which he could not hit the notes. Bystanders cleared the way for him. None knew his name was Owen Skywalker.
He seemed to find himself at the entrance to the slave district. He knew it by the smell; even stronger than himself. "Blah! How do people live like this?" he asked the two guards stationed at either end of the alley leading into the ghetto.
"They're slaves," one of them said dismissively. "It's how they live."
Owen looked past the two guards at the security building where a handful of other guards were stationed along with their equipment. One of the guards next to Owen said, "Okay, on you go then, you drunkard."
Owen burped in his face, then asked as he pointed at the security station, "Is that where you stay?"
"No, I live in fairy land. Now get moving." The guard put his hand on his blaster pistol on his hip. The other did the same, but stood back in case this was a distraction.
"You don't want to be threatening me," Owen said.
"Oh I don't, do I?" the guard said sarcastically. He kicked Owen in the shin, which brought him to his knees, and added, "Let me put it another way. You move along or we put you in with the slaves and you never come out."
Holding his leg in pain, Owen said, "You don't get it. You're going to let all the slaves go."
"Oh I am, am I?"
"You and your pal here."
Both guards began laughing.
Owen waved his hand in front of his swaying face. "You're going to let all the slaves go." He hiccupped at the end.
The guard grabbed at his hand. "Okay buddy. That's it. Come with me."
Owen yanked his hand away, confused, then said, "Oh yeah, I don't know that power. Oh well." He held out each arm and the blasters zipped into his hands. He casually shot the two guards. Another couple guards just outside the station saw what he had done, and shouted the alarm. Owen made an exaggerated squashing motion, and the roof of the small building collapsed, trapping any guards inside.
The two who were outside pulled their blasters and began firing. Owen dodged a couple of the shots, then waved his hand to the side and the blasters flew out of their hands, smacking some passersby in the head. One of the guards immediately began dashing down the alley of the slave district. Owen, now ambling forward with his drunken gait, held his hand forward in a choking motion, then lifted it up. The remaining guard grasped at her own throat, and lifted into the air. Owen squinted, trying to see where the running guard had gone. Finding him, he attempted to coordinate with his hand so he could throw the guard in his Force grasp at the running guard, but in so trying, he merely tossed her around in the air. He finally dropped her onto a balcony and through a doorway.
By now the crowds were scattering, running for their lives. Deafening screams bounced off walls, and Owen stumbled into the alley. "Baroooooo!" he yelled. "Baroo! Where are yo... Hey, that rhymes. Barooooo!"
Hearing all the madness outside, Baroo ran to a second story window and looked out. There she spotted the familiar, slovenly man tumbling along the street, and he spotted her, so he looked up and grinned. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I've come to rescue you!"
"What are you talking about?"
"I've come to get you away from this place! Come, jump into my arms! I will catch you."
"I'm not going anywhere with you!"
"But... Hold on a second." A pair of guards were coming at Owen. He shot a lightning bolt at them out of his hand. It missed, but hit the puddle they were stepping in and zapped them both. "That works," Owen said, and he turned his attention back to his intended target. She was gone from the window, and her shrieking voice was adding to everyone else's. Owen burped and ran inside.
Baroo had panicked at the sight of Owen's power and was running down the corridor. Other slaves were peeking out, asking what was happening. At the stairs, she found him bounding up at her. She screamed and began to run up. He took chase, but stopped, running out of breath and dizzy. So he held out his hand and used the force.
Baroo felt her body stop, then float down towards him, landing in his arms. She hit him with both hands as fast and hard as she could. "Stop that! I'm trying to rescue you!" he said.
"I don't want to go with you!"
"Why not!"
"You scare me!" She clawed his cheek and he dropped her. She ran to a corner.
"Wait! I have powers, yes. But I'm using them to get you away from all this."
"All this?" she said. "This is everywhere for me. If I try to go, they'll just capture me again and beat me all the harder or worse. You better just leave."
"I'm not leaving without you," he said through a hiccup. "We can fly away. You've seen what I can do. You've seen my ship. It doesn't have a name yet, I'm working on that. But we can just go!"
Baroo began to calculate the odds in her head. Then she looked at him crosswise and asked, "Did you fix your engine?"
Owen nodded. "And then some. Hold on." He leaned over the rail, about to hurl, but he held it in.
"I'll drive," she said, and she ran past Owen toward the alley.
Owen caught up with Baroo just as they were exiting the building. Other guards and the police were streaming from one direction. Owen used the force to hurl a dumpster into their way. It wasn't enough to stop the crowd, but it was enough to slow them down and take cover. Owen used the moment to turn to the crowd of slaves watching. "You're all free! Follow us!"
Owen and Baroo began running the opposite direction as the guards and police, but the onlookers didn't move. "Why aren't they coming?" he asked.
"There's no point," Baroo answered as they kept running. "You don't have room on your ship for all of them, and on this planet they'd just be rounded up and sent back here with a beating. Some would probably be killed as a lesson."
Owen didn't answer. He just felt anger that his brother would be part of making a treaty with these people. He used that anger to clear their path so they could get back to his ship.
To be continued...
