Head swimming, Kyle Katarn finally regained consciousness. Through his scrambled brain, he tried to think of the last thing he could remember. The pieces came together slowly: Moldy Crow, Nar Shaddaa, some Hutt's private yacht catching the ship in a tractor beam, he and Jan frantically trying—and failing—to break the lock, big thugs with high-powered stun rifles storming the ship…
He then immediately began assessing his current situation. He was weaponless; the Bryar pistol that had been the last gift that his father had given him had been confiscated, as had the lightsaber that he had personally constructed. He was heavily restrained—both physically and mentally. He found concentrating on any means of using the Force to escape extremely difficult at the moment.
The screen in front of him flickered to life a few minutes after he regained consciousness. Kyle found himself staring into the soulless eyes of Jabba the Hutt. Kyle had run-ins with the Hutt before, dispatching numerous thugs on both Tatooine and just a while ago on Nar Shaddaa, but he hadn't seen the foul-looking crime boss before. Jabba was a typical Hutt: literally sluggish, fat and bloated. A short, stubby arm reached into a bowl that was off screen, coming back into view with a squirming invertebrate that was promptly stuffed into his mouth. Orange-yellow eyes that were probably the size of a human head glared at him.
So, the crime lord exclaimed in his own language, it appears as if I have captured someone extremely valuable. "Desertion, treason, murder of Imperial officers, several other bounties posted by the Imperials for all of the trouble you have caused them in the past year or two," Jabba quoted. Then of course comes the best bounty of them all. "Jedi Knight." I hear they still pay very good money for them, the corpulent gangster gloated.
It is a shame, however, that after all of the mess you have created that I have to turn you in, Jabba lamented, the phrase sounding even more menacing in Huttese. My pets are quite hungry at the moment…
Kyle thought of a snappy comeback along the lines of "You should have them eat you. They'd be full for months," before quickly deciding against it. He didn't know where Jan was—if she had survived—and angering the Hutt would only endanger her more. Right now, he had to figure out a way to escape from Jabba's custody. The first objective, however, was trying to get the remnants of the drugs out of his system. Then, he could plan the escape.
"Now that's a ship that definitely looks familiar," Obi-Wan Kenobi remarked as four of the "newest" Rebel starfighters were towed into the main hangar of Home One by pilots-in-training. The ships were a precursor to the X-wings that hauled them in a basic visual way, although they did share a common designer. Created by Incom and Subpro, a design combination that also created the Z-95 Headhunters that also shared hangar space, the ship measured in at about 14.5 meters from nose to engines, a full two meters longer than its descendent.
Like an X-wing, the ARC-170 sported S-foils, though no weapons brimmed from the device. It was their primary purpose to dispense the heat from the engines and provide stability in atmospheric flight.
Being found in a variety of places—from the far reaches of a solar system or two to junk yards in Outer Rim planets—the ancient Clone Wars fighters had the potential to be great weapons for the rebels to use. Or, if they were too damaged, the ships could easily be salvaged for parts. In particular, the rebels had been looking forward to using the three-being crewed vessel in some attacks when Y-wings were either unavailable, or not needed. One of those three crewmembers being a tail-gunner also added to their value.
"Too bad they couldn't get their hands on some of the Jedi starfighters," Luke remarked as he watched one of the ships—one whose landing gear had been shorn off by enemy fire—was placed in a magnetic holding field.
"How do you know about Jedi starfighters?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyebrows raising in amusement.
"Had a model of both versions in my room," Luke smiled. "I also had one of those," he said, gesturing to one of the ARC-170's.
"A model—no matter how detailed—is never a substitute to the real thing," Obi-Wan stated.
"It does when it have an information card," Luke added.
"But numbers do not tell the entire story," Obi-Wan replied, wanting to let Luke know that any ship in the hands of an experienced pilot could work much better than a highly technical ship in the hands of an inexperienced pilot.
"Is that the Renasance?" Luke asked, changing the subject as he squinted his eyes in the distance.
Obi-Wan Kenobi turned to look out of the blue MagCon field that keep the atmosphere generated by the life support systems of Home One from leaking out into space. Coming into view was a battered looking Corellian-created cruiser of the same class as the ship that carried him and Qui-Gon many times in their careers. "I hope not," he said as he spotted the gaping hole where the communications dish on the aft of the vessel had been.
A few minutes later, the ship—trailing smoke out of its center engine—settled into one of the few empty spaces in the hangar bay. It didn't take long for the entrance ramp to descend and a majority of the fifty survivors of the Independence rushed out of the cramped and banged up ship. Most of them were happy to finally be safe as they stood on the flight deck. Others simply slowly walked out of the ship, mourning loved ones and friends that hadn't made it.
"It was that bad, wasn't it?" Luke asked, seeing the miserable looks on the faces of the survivors.
"Worse, kid," Han Solo said as he stepped out of the ship, Leia following him. "This is all that's left. No other survivors."
"I had expected that we would have just picked up some of the more important survivors and then have a small fleet come in to get the others," Leia sighed.
"You saved as many as you could," Keyan Farlander reassured her. "Believe me, the rest of the pilots and I have played the entire battle back in our heads. All of us are trying to figure out what we could have done differently to save the ship."
"And what is your solution?" Obi-Wan asked, testing one of his pupils.
The Weequay guard entered the room where Kyle was kept prisoner, the injection syringe filled with the drug that had kept him sedated for hours. Now his mind was clear, and it was time for action. With a simple mental flick, the restraints around him quickly unlocked, freeing him. The Weequay guard looked dumbly at him, not having any idea how a prisoner could escape. He came to his senses a second later, quickly dropping the syringe and reaching for his sidearm. His hand never reached his blaster pistol. The Weequay guard soon lapsed into unconsciousness as his head violently hit the wall.
His single guard subdued, Kyle Katarn quickly relieved the knocked out guard of his blaster pistol and the two extra energy cells on his belt. As he did this, he mentally sketched a small list of objectives that he would have to complete before escaping. The first on that list was to rescue Jan. It wouldn't be long until Jabba or his guards would find out that he had escaped and he knew that both of them would be targets once they did. The second objective was to find out where their weapons were being stored. Escaping would be much easier if he had his lightsaber, Kyle thought. But all he had was a simple blaster pistol. He would have to make do.
It didn't take long after he left his temporary cell for Jabba's thugs to find out that he had escaped. Two Gamorrean guards grunted out in surprise as the human prisoner that they were supposed to be guarding burst out of the door. They leveled their vibroaxes towards him and steadily advanced, too stupid to call in for reinforcements. Kyle aimed towards the guard nearest him, firing his borrowed blaster pistol towards it. The first shot hit the guard in the chest, the thick hide of the porcine sentient managing to turn what would be a fatal blow on a "normal" being into a simple injury. Another shot finally brought the guard down, leaving only one remaining.
That single guard lunged towards Kyle, vibroaxe gleaming in the artificial lighting. The Jedi dodged a downward swing from the Gamorrean and slammed his fist into thick cheek of the guard. The creature barely moved as he was hit, making Kyle wonder if he had caused more damage to himself than to his opponent. The guard hit Kyle in the chest with the handle of his vibroaxe, nearly pushing the Jedi off of his feet. It was then that Kyle finally managed to get off two shots into the guard's head, killing him on the first shot.
He made his way through the ship, using the Force to both mask his presence as well as trying to find out where he needed to go. Firefights erupted a few times when his cover was blown.
"Thank the Force you showed up," Jan Ors replied as Kyle finally reached the room in which she was held. "I wasn't liking the way Jabba was looking at me."
"Good thing—for him—that he didn't get any ideas," Kyle replied. "I think that he wouldn't be feeling too happy if you got your hands on him."
"He'd be one fried slug," Jan agreed. "Do you have an extra weapon?"
"Here," Kyle offered, handing her a blaster pistol acquired from a dead guard. "It'll do until we get our normal weapons back. Any idea where they are?"
"You were the one wandering around the ship," Jan answered.
"This could be bad," he responded.
Jan was the first one out of the room, walking into the corridors of the space yacht. It didn't take long for Kyle's prediction to come true as several guards of various races rounded a corner. Without missing a beat, both rebels raised their blaster pistols and fired upon the group before sprinting down a side corridor.