Episode 4 Chapter 6

Ghosts in the Desert

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Disclaimer: See chapter one

Authors Note: Parts of this chapter were taken from the novelization of Star Wars Episode 4: A New Hope by George Lucas.

Special thanks to my Betas, Fallenstar2 and Winterd.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Death Star-

Leia Naberrie sat in her cell and contemplated what had brought her here. She had been so careful, she thought. She had taken every precaution to mask any and all communications coming into or going out of the Tantive IV-

Or so she thought.

She knew. The moment her vessel was captured by the Star Destroyer, she knew that her life was over. She only hoped that they would kill her quickly and be done with it. Her only real regret, other than not living to see the end of the Empire, was that she wouldn't be able to see her family one last time.

The door opened to her cell, bringing her out of her reverie. She looked up and saw the familiar face of the Emperor's second in command, Darth Vader. Tall and muscular, cloaked in black armor and a long black cape, his white hair cut short and his beard neatly trimmed, the Dark Lord of the Sith looked almost civil as he came into her cell. The – creature - who followed was another matter entirely. Cloaked in the same black armor as Vader, the creature was also adorned with several strange mechanical devices, topped off quite literally by a black mask. The sight of the expressionless mask, combined with the mechanical breathing of the respirator contained within, was said to cause many nightmares across the galaxy to whoever was unfortunate enough to survive an encounter with him. Not much was known about it - no one even knew if it was human. The only thing truly known was that it was a male, two meters tall, did the bidding of the Emperor and was called Halcyon.

"My dear Princess Leia," Vader started out, using her former title mockingly, "it has been some time since we last met. A session of the Senate, if I recall?"

"You recall correctly, Vader," Leia replied coolly. "You should familiarize your self with the Senate - they will be most displeased to learn that you attacked a consular's ship while it was on a diplomatic mission."

"Yes, they would be upset, wouldn't they?" Vader asked mockingly. "That is, they would be upset if they were relevant anymore. I come with news, Princess - the Emperor has decided to disband the Senate permanently."

Leia gasped in shock. "That's madness!"

"No, it's efficient," Vader replied.

"And how does your Lord plan on controlling the thousands of star systems without the Senate, hmm?" Leia asked sarcastically. "It's not possible."

"Of course it's possible, your highness," the low, menacing tones of Halcyon's voice interjected. "And you're sitting in what will make it possible."

"Of course, we will need to make a demonstration. And to do that, we will need the location of your Rebel base."

Leia paled, but her resolve held firm. "I will never tell you that."

Vader smiled benignly. "Of course not," he said, turning to look at Halcyon. "My compatriot her would like nothing more than to let an interrogation droid have a go at you." He turned back to her and his smile tuned menacing. "But I, on the other hand, like the personal touch." Swiftly he moved forward and gently placed a hand on the side of Leia's head. "Let's have a peek inside, shall we?" Suddenly energy crackled between Vader's fingertips and Leia's head, causing her to scream in pain as the Sith Lord invaded her mind.

-Tatooine-

"Quinn, can I ask you something?" Luke asked to the elder Jedi that sat next to him in the landspeeder. The two, along with Threepio and Artoo and followed by Ben and Buffy on the swoop bike, were speeding over the flat dessert plains towards the hub city of Mos Eisley. Once there, Quinn had assured them all that it would be of little trouble to find transport to Alderaan.

The Jedi turned to Luke and smiled. "Of course, Luke. Ask away."

"Over the years, I've always had a sort of sense of Leia in the back of my mind. I always thought it was some sort of twin thing…"

"There have been documented cases of twins being able to sense each other. However, if you believe this talent is augmented by the Force, then I would agree with you. Why?"

"Something bad is happening to her," Luke said, his voice filled with concern and dread. "We need to find her, and fast."

Qui-Gon nodded. "We will, Luke. Stop here."

Luke brought the old speeder to a halt at the edge of the bluff and the two got out. Buffy and Obi-Wan came to a stop next to the two and took a look at the view below them.

"Mos Eisley Spaceport," Qui-Gon announced. "You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious."

Luke's speeder, flowed by the swoop bike, sped into Mos Eisley. One of the central hubs on the backwater planet, Mos Eisley was teaming with pirates, smugglers, lowlifes - just the sort of people the Skywalkers needed to get them to Alderaan. They sped rapidly through the outskirts of the city, going deeper and deeper into the city until they ran into a security checkpoint.

"Now what?" Luke whispered to Qui-Gon, who smiled.

"Just leave it to me," he replied, looking up at the Storm Troopers. "Is there a problem?"

"How long have you had these droids?" the trooper asked.

"Three or four seasons," Luke replied.

"They are for sale if you want them," Qui-Gon added.

The trooper stared back for a moment. "Let me see your identification."

Qui-Gon waved his hand slightly at the trooper. "You don't need to see his identification," he said easily.

"We don't need to see his identification."

"These aren't the droids you're looking for."

"These aren't the droids we're looking for."

"He can go about his business."

"You can go about your business."

"Move along," Qui-Gon finished, sitting back in his seat. The Trooper waved them through.

"Move along," he parroted. "Move along."

Buffy pulled up to the trooper and subtly waved her hand as well.

"We're with them," she said, influencing the trooper subtly with the Force. The Trooper nodded and waved them through.

"They're with them," he said. Buffy and Obi-Wan nodded in gratitude and drove through. They drove deeper into the town until they finally came to a stop in front of a small, run-down cantina.

"This looks promising," Buffy said sarcastically, stepping off of the bike and looking towards Qui-Gon and Luke.

"Most of the best freighter pilots can be found here," the Jedi offered. Luke was still shaking his head in disbelief.

"I still don't understand how we got past those guards! I thought we were dead for sure!"

"The Force can influence the weak-minded, Luke. Never forget that," Qui-Gon responded. "Now, let's get moving."

"I'll stay out here with the droids," Buffy said. "We'll lay low until you get a ship."

"A very good idea, Mistress Buffy," Threepio said. Even Artoo whistled in agreement.

"All right, we'll be out shortly," Obi-Wan said, turning back to the others. "Let's go."

The cantina was a hive of activity. A thousand different races the likes of which Luke had never seen filled the cavernous interior - Ithorians, Devorians, Sullustans, Barabels… races Luke had never seen, races he had never even heard about…it was the most amazing thing he had seen, outside the spaceport on Naboo he had been to a few times when he had visited his sister.

"You best watch your step in here, Luke," Obi-Wan warned. Luke nodded and headed towards the bar as the two Jedi started making the rounds. He plopped himself down on the first available bar stool and tugged on the barman's shirt to get his attention and then ordered a drink. He looked around the cantina - Quinn and Ben (no, it's Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan he reminded himself), were busy talking to-

A Wookie?

He had never seen one before, but he had heard of them. Over two meters tall, covered in fur and built with enough muscle to rend a normal human limb from limb with nary an effort, Luke had to wonder what the two Jedi thought it could do to help them…

Abruptly Luke found himself being shoved roughly from behind. He turned to face a rodent-like alien.

"Negola dewaghi wooldugger?" the rodent-man bubbled challengingly.

Luke had no idea what the creature was saying, but he knew it wasn't good. Not knowing what else to do, Luke tried turning back to his own drink while studiously ignoring the creature. As he did so, a thing—a cross between a capybara and a small baboon—bounced over to stand (or squat) next to the quivering many-eye. A short, grubby-looking human also approached and put a companionable arm around the snuffling mass.

"He doesn't like you," the stubby human informed Luke in a surprisingly deep voice.

"I'm sorry about that," Luke admitted wholeheartedly

"I don't like you, either," the smiling little man went on with brotherly negativity. "You just better watch yourself. We're all wanted." He indicated his drunken companion. "I have the death sentence on me in twelve different systems."

"I'll be careful, then," Luke muttered.

The little man was smiling broadly. "You'll be dead."

"This little one isn't worth the trouble," a calm voice said. Luke looked up, startled. He hadn't heard Kenobi come up alongside him. "Come, let me buy you a drink."

By way of reply the bulky monster roared hideously and swung out a massive limb. It caught an unprepared Luke across the temple and sent him spinning across the room, crashing through tables and shattering a large jug filled with a foul-smelling liquid.

The crowd edged back farther, a few grunts and warning snorts coming from some of them as the drunken monstrosity pulled a wicked-looking pistol from its service pouch. He started to wave it in Kenobi's direction. That spurred the heretofore neutral bartender to life. He came charging clumsily around the end of the bar, waving his hands frantically but still taking care to stay out of range.

"No blasters, no blasters! Not in my place!"

Ben didn't give him a chance to use it. In an instant he had unfastened his lightsaber from his belt and activated the blue beam and in two quick strokes the two aliens were on the floor, moaning in pain as their severed limbs lay next to them. He looked around to see if anybody else wanted to start some trouble and, finding none, he deactivated the blade. Qui-Gon moved over to help Luke up.

"Are you all right?" he asked the younger man, who nodded in reply.

"Yeah, just a bit shaken up."

Obi-Wan walked over to them with the large Wookie in tow. "This is Chewbacca," he announced. "He's first officer of a ship that might suite us."

The four walked around the bar to the far end of the establishment where a young, scruffy looking man with shaggy brown hair and eyes that looked far older than they should. Chewbacca slid into the booth next to the man, leaving the three men to slide in on the opposite side. Obi-Wan sat down, a bit on edge - the man reminded him of someone…

"Han Solo," the man said, gesturing to himself. "Captain of the Millennium Falcon."

Obi-Wan's hart seemed to stop. The Millennium Falcon? Surely it couldn't be the same ship that had carried him, Buffy and Anakin off of Corellia all those years ago. And the name Solo…

It couldn't be, he assured himself. All of them were killed in the blast…

Meanwhile Han had kept speaking. "Chewie tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system?"

"That's right, if it's a fast ship," Qui-Gon replied smoothly. Han seemed to bristle.

"A fast ship?" he repeated. "You've never heard of the Millennium Falcon?"

Qui-Gon feigned ignorance. "Should we have?"

"It's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs!" Solo told him indignantly. "I've outrun Imperial starships - not the local bulk cruisers, mind you. I'm talking about the really big Corellian ships. I think she's fast enough for you, old man." His outrage subsided rapidly. "What's your cargo?"

"Only passengers. Myself, the boy, two other companions and two droids—no questions asked."

"No questions," Solo regarded his mug, finally looked up. "Is it local trouble?"

"Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements," Kenobi offered easily.

"Well that's the trick. And it'll cost you a little extra." He did some mental figuring. "Ten thousand. All in advance."

Luke gaped at the pilot. "Ten thousand! We could almost buy our own ship for that."

Solo shrugged. "Yeah, but who's going to fly it? You?"

"You bet I could," Luke shot back, rising. "I'm not such a bad pilot myself. I don't—"

Qui-Gon placed a firm hand on Luke's arm and pulled him back into his seat. "We haven't that much with us," he explained. "But we could pay you two thousand now, plus another fifteen when we reach Alderaan."

"Seventeen thousand..." Solo leaned forward, considering the offer. Finally he answered. "All right, I'll chance it. You've got yourselves a ship. As for avoiding Imperial entanglements, you'd better twist out of here or even the Millennium Falcon won't be any help to you." He nodded toward the cantina entrance and added quickly, "Docking bay ninety-four, first thing in the morning."

Four Storm Troopers circled the bar slowly, searching for the troublemakers that had wounded the two thugs. Instead they only found a lone human and a Wookie sitting in a booth at the far end of the bar and the moved on. Once they were out of earshot Han turned to his friend.

"Seventeen thousand!" he exclaimed. "They must really be desperate! This could really save my neck. Get back to the Falcon, make sure she's ready to go." The Wookie growled in acknowledgment and rose, heading out of the bar towards their ship. Han made to follow him, but stopped short as the short snub of a hold lout blaster was pressed into his chest.

"Going somewhere, Solo?" Greedo asked, forcing Han back into his seat. The Rodian took the seat directly across from him, keeping his blaster leveled at Han. For his part, Han nonchalantly leaned back in his seat, propping his left leg up on top of the table while extending his right leg slightly underneath.

"As a matter of fact," Solo replied slowly, "I was just on my way to see your boss. You can tell Jabba I've got the money I owe him."

"That's what you said yesterday—and last week—and the week prior to that. It's too late, Solo. I'm not going back to Jabba with another one of your stories."

"But I've really got the money this time!" Solo protested.

"Fine. I'll take it now, please."

Slowly, Han unfastened the retraining strap that held his trusty DL-44 blaster and began to silently pull it out.

"I haven't got it here with me. Tell Jabba—"

"It's too late, I think. Jabba would rather have your ship."

"Over my dead body," Solo said insatiably.

Greedo sneered. "Then perhaps he'll take your sister. I bet she'd fetch a nice price…"

Han's eyes narrowed in barely contained fury. "Over HIS dead body."

Greedo laughed harshly even as Han finished pulling the blaster, leveling it at the bounty hunter under the table. "I think he would prefer the sooner. I've been looking forward to this for a long time, Solo."

Han smirked. "Yeah, I bet you have."

A sudden flash of light and a loud blast stopped all activity in the bar and the fried remains of Greedo thumped down onto the table. Han looked at the corpse in surprise and then down at his own blaster, which he hadn't discharged. Then he looked back up to see the muzzle of another DL-44 shining out of the shadows.

"I had that under control, you know," he said to the blaster. The muzzle lowered as its owner stepped out of the shadows. The dim lighting reflected off of the dull grey and red colored armor that covered the lithe female body beneath. Her face was hidden beneath the familiar looking T-visored helmet of the Mandalorian warriors. The Mandalorian slipped her blaster back into her leg holster and moved over to the table. Calmly she reached up and pulled off the helmet, shaking her long brown hair loose. She smirked down at the scruffy captain as she picked up his unfinished drink and downed it in one gulp.

"Right, I'm sure."

"I did have him!" Han protested, putting his own weapon away and standing up to face his sister. Joyce just shrugged.

"Yeah, well…I guess now we'll never know who would have shot first." Her blue eyes twinkled as she slid her helmet back on. "Now can we go?"

Han gestured with his had for her to go first, then dug into his pocket and pulled out a small credichip, which he flipped to the bartender. "Sorry about the mess. My sister's a bit impulsive," he said as he followed his sister out of the building.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joyce Solo was not your typical Mandalorian.

Like most of her adopted people, she had made her living for a time from place to place on all sorts of odd jobs. One of those jobs was collecting a debt from a small time Corellian smuggler - who just happened to be her brother. After she had fulfilled that contract (and dolled out a substantial amount of the credits she had accumulated to pay the debt), she had decided that her place was with Han and his new Wookie co-pilot. Most of her clansmen didn't like the fact that she took orders from a second-rate smuggler like Han, but they didn't know him as well as she did. After all, he was family. And the one thing a Mandalorian prized above everything else was family.

"So, what have we got?" Joyce asked as they headed towards the hanger. "Something nice and profitable, I hope…"

"We got a nice, easy charter."

Joyce groaned in annoyance. "Han, I said profitable. Not a waste of time! We have to pay back Jabba…"

"I think seventeen thousand will cover us just fine, don't you?"

"Seventeen thousand?" Joyce repeated, considering. Then she scowled. "Okay, what's the catch?"

"Who says there's a catch?"

"Because honest people don't need a ferry for that kind of money! Han, out with it!"

Han winced. "There may have been something said about Imperial trouble..."

"Tah mah duh hwoon dahn!" Joyce exclaimed in her native, albeit ancient, tongue. "After what happened last time? You really want to go up against Imps?"

"What, this far out?" Han said incredulously. "They probably ripped off some Imp Barron. At worst we deal with an old Star Destroyer that's been needing an overhaul for years. Just trust me on this, Joyce." He flashed her his trademark cocky grin. "Everything's under control."

Joyce sighed and rolled her eyes. "We're going to die," she muttered.

The two calmly walked into the hanger, only to be stopped by an irate Chewie at the door.

"What, Chewie?" Han asked as the tall Wookie growled frantically. "Jabba's in there? How many guys? Alright, al right! Chewie, I'm going in to talk to him. You and Joyce watch my back, but don't start anything. I can talk him down."

Joyce harrumphed in annoyance, but relented. "And I wanted some action. All right, fine. Now go be the negotiator and get us of here."

The docking-bay entrance to the small saucer-shaped spacecraft was completely ringed by half a dozen men and aliens, of which the former were by half the most grotesque. A great mobile tub of muscle and suet topped by a shaggy scarred skull surveyed the semicircle of armed assassins with satisfaction. Moving forward from the center of the crescent, he shouted toward the ship.

"Come on out. Solo! We've got you surrounded."

"If so, you're facing the wrong way," came a calm voice.

Jabba the Hutt jumped—in itself a remarkable sight. His lackeys likewise whirled—to see Han Solo, with Chewbacca and Joyce standing behind them. "I've been waiting for you."

"I expected you would be," the Hutt admitted.

"I'm not the type to run," Solo said.

"Run? Run from what!" Jabba countered. "Han, my boy, there are times when you disappoint me. I merely wish to know why you haven't paid me... as you should have long ago. And why did you have to fry poor Greedo like that? After all you and I have been through together."

Solo grinned tightly. "Hey, next time you want to talk to me, you come see me yourself." Han pointed to the other bounty hunters. "Don't send these twerps." He looked back to Jabba even as Chewie and Joyce moved in behind him. Joyce found the familiar helmet of Boba Fett and nodded at him, subtly switching to a private com channel.

"Mand'alor."

"Sprite."

"You know I hate that nickname."

"That's why I keep using it," Fett replied, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Why are you still working for the osik?" Joyce asked. Fett chuckled.

"He pays well. That's all that matters in the end."

"And if he puts a contract out on Han?" Joyce countered calmly. "You know I'll stop you."

"Don't forget, Sprite - I taught you everything you know. But I didn't teach you everything I know."

"And don't you forget," Joyce replied, "that you have no idea what I'm truly capable of. Believe that."

"I'll take that under consideration."

Joyce cut off the comlink as Jabba shook his head and his jowls shook—lazy, fleshy echoes of his mock sorrow. "Han, Han—if only you hadn't had to dump that shipment of spice! You understand... I just can't make an exception. Where would I be if every pilot who smuggled for me dumped his shipment at the first sign of an Imperial warship? And then simply showed empty pockets when I demanded recompense? It's not good business. I can be generous and forgiving—but not to the point of bankruptcy."

"You know, even I get boarded sometimes, Jabba. Did you think I dumped that spice because I got tired of its smell? I wanted to deliver it as much as you wanted to receive it. I had no choice." Again the sardonic smile. "But I've got a nice, easy charter now and I can pay you back, plus a little extra. I just need some more time."

The gross form seemed to consider, then nodded to the wary Corellian. "Han, my boy, I'm only doing this because you're the best and I'll need you again sometime. So, out of the greatness of my soul and a forgiving heart—and for an extra, say, twenty percent-"

"Fifteen, Jabba. Don't push it."

"Fifteen it is." The voice nearly cracked with restraint. "But this is the last time. If you disappoint me again, if you trample my generosity in your mocking laughter, I'll put a price on your head so large you won't be able to go near a civilized system for the rest of your life, because on every one your name and face will be known to men who'll gladly cut your guts out for one-tenth of what I'll promise them."

"Jabba," Han stated, walking backwards towards his ship, "you're a wonderful human being." Han spun about and headed back to his ship, calling for his entourage to follow. At the back of the pack Boba Fett glanced once more at Solo and then turned and walked out of the bay.

TBC….

Next chapter- Buffy makes a shocking discovery and Joyce learns about her legacy when mother and daughter collide!