A long time ago in a galaxy far far away
OUTTEMP ALLIANCE, part One
Season 1, Episode 6
40 years passed since
Emperor Palpatine was defeated.
For years and years chaos remained as
the remnants of the Empire tried to maintain control
of the galaxy and the leaders of the Rebel Alliance tried to unite
the people in an organized democracy. Such attempts failed on both sides,
and the galaxy fell back to the political structure it had known before the creation of
the Old Republic. Small systems, bigger systems, coalition of planets, yet some planets are still
divided and self-regulated countries. Democracies, monarchies, empires, warlords, anarchys, even
the Hutts control a few systems, and still some parts of the universe have not been explored or heard of.
Drika has successfully conquered Basmili, OsKos, and recently Cumberan, advancing in her quest to take over control of the quadrant. Now Ambulia was attacking Mosester and it's outerspace defence fleet.
##
Gen. Bronson, we're surrounded. Eight Ambulian ships, class K, plus an M class cruiser following.
– Are you certain, watchman?
– Yes sir. There on an attacking course.
Gen. Bronson knew that his crew was not prepared for such an attack.
– Shields up! Hail them and prepare for our counterattack. I want every battle station manned and full analysis of their weapon system. Cmdr., get to the torpedo bay. Folks, we're in for a dogfight.
Nobody replied, but they all got to their respective tasks. Brunson studied the data that was coming towards him, making good use of the few seconds he had to brace himself for that attack. The Ambulian fleet fired, and to his surprise his crew was already ready to return fire.
– No response to hail, general.
The Ship manoeuvered as cleverly as it could, trying to keep as many of the attackers as possible in a trailing position. – These pilots are not very good…
Bronson said that out loud, trying to cheer his troops.
– Commander, as soon as you get these ships within five wingspans of each other, target a torpedo on the middle one. We'll see what kind of shields they have. Helm, how long until help arrives?
– About seven minutes, sir
the ship rocked as fire intensified from their attackers. He was analysing their attack plan and understood, the fighters were keeping them running while the M class cruiser was waiting for the right moment to strike a definitive blow.
– Were not going to last that long. Cmdr. » he paused «now! »
The torpedo was fired and was a direct hit to the fighter. The explosion the explosion of the torpedo and the impact it created did not destroy the fighter, but even better : it sent it spinning into its counterpart and the collision destroyed both ships.
– Helm, head for the cruisers. Maximum power to the front shields. Were going to make a run for it.
– Sir, if we reroute power from the weapons to the shields, we can't hold off the fighters.
– This M class cruiser is going to destroy us in about, oh, 30 seconds, unless we make an unexpected run at it and force it to change it's plan. We might not last any longer, but at least will take them down with us, and leave their fighters as a chump change for our reinforcements.
There was a long pause.
-Your sacrifice will benefit all of Mosester.
They altered course, taking hits from the fighters. The M class cruiser realized the tactics and started to move. Too late, however.
– Commander, unload all of our torpedoes on the cruiser. Now!
He knew very well that the explosion, at this distance, was going to destroy his own ship as well, using it as a projectile to destroy the cruiser in kind of an aftershock.
– Were going to die, crewmen. But so will they.
He smiled and faced death like a warrior.
Torpedoes hit the cruiser's shields and the explosion hit Bronson's ship as well, setting it on fire and the collision with the Ambulian cruiser caused a huge explosion the incoming fighters could barely escape. As they spun around to cover themselves, two Mosester combat cruisers appeared, ready to avenge their fallen comrades. There was little hope of survival for the small Ambulian fighters, their firepower was no match.
Another ship came out of hyperspace a few instants later and shot an ion cannon that depolarized the Mosester ships so quickly that there was no chance for them to react. Both ships just stood there, defenceless in space. The unmarked ship approached then boarded the Mosester ships.
##
– Very impressive, Tantrum. Not only did they save our fighters, but they disabled two other defence ships making the Mosester system almost defenceless. Too bad we coudn't take advantage of it right away…is it too good to be true?
Drika was sitting, playing with a small plastic cube that looked fragile in her hands.
– As I said, master, we've hired them for a couple small jobs, but this, they did on their own. They call themselves the Outtemps. They're willing to help us, on their terms, and when they feel like it is also in their interest to act. But he made it very clear they won't take orders from us.
– Any idea what he did with the prisoners?
– No. Apparently it is not of my business… The Outtemp's are more independent than we thought.
– Get me as much intelligence on them as you can.
– I already have. There is nothing out there to find. It's like they just…Happened… All we know is what we got from our conversations with Lieut. Tarm.
– Is he, their leader?
– Does not appear to be, no. But then again, nobody knows for sure.
– I like to know what kind of firepower they have, what their purpose is, and what kind of threat they will pose to us once we've taken over Mosester. Keep a close eye on them.
Tantrum left. Drika watched the tactical display once again, grinned, then a bit her lip and crossed the doomed small plastic cube. She hit the comm.
– Get me chief elect Webell. It's time for Mosester to surrender.
##
Combat ships were circling over Mosester like bees. This invasion force was comparable to the one they are brought to Basmili. Only this time, the ships were new, built on the Basmili to help with future invasions like this one. Drika was sitting on the bridge, next to the communications officer. She held back close her eyes and took control of Webell. His face changed, he was now full of assurance, and he stood up from his chair.
– Hail lead Mosester Phrenic.
Within seconds, a group of Mosester diplomats appeared on screen.
– I am chief elect Webell of the Ambulia reign. I am thinking over your planet, if you will oblige, I offer a chance to limit the casualties. You need to surrender now.
Phrenic took a step towards the screen, confident.
– And what are your terms?
Webell laughed with all his arrogance.
– On my terms. Unconditionnal surrender.
Phrenic new too well that his army was no match for the Ambulia strike force. In this «all for yourself » galaxy, no one would come to defend them. However, he had enough to stir Ambulia a little trouble.
– There are matters of importance to us, that we would like to discuss, and I believe an agreement could be mutually beneficial in terms of casualty and military reserves.
Webell was about to snap but he restrained himself and signalled his comm officer to silence the channel's.
– What is the state of their defence fleet?
– About 30 small fighters and a few cruisers, for what we know. They don't stand a chance against us, but he could hamper our fleet enough to make us vulnerable afterwards once we have to defend the system.
– Plus, these could be added to our army. Get them back on.
Phrenic and his colleagues reappeared.
– I hope the nature of your matters are trivial, I don't foresee making significant concessions. You're welcome on board to discuss them. Coming with a single ship, present your terms and I will consider them.
Within six minutes a shuttle was approaching the Ambulia's peak.
– Capt. PAnito, make sure there's no funny business about them. I will meet them in the victory lounge in half an hour.
Webell left, followed by Drika. As she let go of her hold on him, he became soft and walked gingerly. He smiled. As they left the room, he asked her:
– I feel so strongly when you give me that power of yours. Can't you let me have it all the time?
– It takes a great deal of my strength, even for short periods like that. Now I need to rest a little, a half-hour will do. Get ready for short negotiations.
##
– My dear people, today is the most difficult announcement I've had to make in my years as your Lead Mosester. As you know, the invasion force from Ambulia as surrounded our planet and decimated our defences. In order to avoid a bloody and useless conflict with them we have signed a treaty that will be released to the public tomorrow morning. This deal assures that our values will be preserved, and our freedom will be maintained as citizens of the expanding Ambulia reign. For myself, it marks the end of my service to you. I hope that this agreement will allow us all to be safe and prosperous under the leadership of Ambulia.
This message was sent to all of Mosester, directly from the Ambulia's peak. Phrenic left in his shuttle with his delegation. As it approached the Mosester atmosphere, Capt. Panito signalled to the tactical officer. The shuttles atmospheric shields never came on and within seconds it exploded, with no apparent attempt to save itself.
– Captain, sent the Mosester Central our… Revised version of the treaty, along with Phrenic's suicide note and his last wishes as you have prepared them. And ready your ground troops, were taking control tomorrow morning.
##
Drika was in Webell's quarters along with Tantrum.
– What do we do now? Not everybody is going to believe this is suicide!
Webell was afraid.
– So what? They lost their leader. Those who will think we killed him will fear us even more…
The comm beeped. Capt. Panito appeared on screen
– I'm sorry, chief elect, but I've got two events to report, both are significant.
– Go ahead, Capt.
– first, two X2 wings have been reportedly seen hovering around Cumberan. Attempts were made to capture or destroy them, but their pilots are very clever and have been able to escape us on both occasions.
– Jedi. I figured they would be in our way sooner or later.
Tantrum said that with disdain but kept his cool
– your second point, Capt.?
– We received an encrypted message for you… It appears to be from the Outtemps. Should I try to decrypt it, or should I send to you directly?
Webell paused. He couldn't care less about the Outtemp's.
– Send it to me, we'll decrypt it.
Tantrum was worried.
##
After a little bit of work from Tantrum, the message appeared on screen. It showed the conversation between Webell and Mosester, before Phrenic came on board. On the screen were added identification… Webell, Panito, the names of the comm and tactical officer, and as Webell moved a little bit, the transmission showed Drika and she was enlarged, with her name in bold letters.
They all looked at each other in awe. Her origins, existence and especially her name were information that very few people had. Lieut. Tarm appeared on screen.
– It seems you have been spending too much time with Webell, Drika, because you've become self-centered like him and sloppy enough to show your face in such a high-profile transcription… Ever since your escape from Sporrin, you have been discrete. Not this time .
Drika was in shock. These guys were good.
– Anyway, you should know that we got a hostage you might like to check out. The guy pilots an X2 wing and was lucky enough to escape destruction, unlike his partner, when they messed around with us. He did ask us if you sent us and if we work for you which was a little insulting, as you can imagine. We're in Cumberan space, awaiting your call on the usual frequency…
The transmission ended.
– I guess they know a lot more about me than I know about them, and that… bothers me.
– Yet, they have a Jedi hostage and rid us of another one, that's impressive.
Tantrum almost regretted the words as he had said them.
– If these guys can capture and interrogate a Jedi, let alone kill one, there is something to be scared about. But he didn't specify that his prisoner was a Jedi… He probably doesn't know but just made a link with us because of the question. Let's call them. Webell, go get some rest. These guys know that you're just the front anyways.
She brushed him aside like a puppet. Tantrum thought she was playing a dangerous game with him, giving him so little consideration. But then again, she had spoken the truth. Webell stood up, make sure his body language showed that he was offended, but couldn't muster the courage to voice his displeasure. He picked up his pride and left.
Tantrum programmed the codes to communicate with the Outtemp's, and Tarm appeared on screen.
– Hello Lieut. I am Drika.
She tried to study his reaction but there was none.
– I know. I must start by saying we strongly disapprove your killing of lead Mosester Phrenic. It was a useless and cowardly murder. We are currently reviewing our position as a collaborator, because you've obviously got no sign of decency, let alone tactical judgement. The values of those we collaborate with are important to us, as well as their competence.
– Very nicely said, as usual. I am, however, glad to hear that you held a position as our collaborators. I myself do not remember awarding you that title.
She paused and stared at him with her mesmerizing gaze. Then she switched,
– so, how's the Jedi?
– You mean your friend Brett Ho-Xin? Mind you, that's the name you gave us. I have to admit it was impossible to question him. He did mention how much you and him were… Friends?
This conversation was just an exchange of verbal jabs and punches, conducted over subspace communications.
– I gather he is no use to you?
– How would you know that? And, most of all, that doesn't mean we would just hand him over to you. The services we've provided so far were beneficial to us. But we're not murderers, and Phrenic's life was not a game. Why would I release him? Perhaps someone else would outbid you to give him his freedom?
–Phrenic's suicide was unfortunate. But if you're so pure, was the murder of Padawan Obu an accident or a game?
– As much as portal upon Ebu or whatever you're talking about…
Tarm obviously had no idea who Obu was, meaning that their interrogation of Ho-Xin was indeed going nowhere.
– Can you handle the Jedi until our arrival?
– Of course. He has made no attempt to escape. Then again, why should we hand him over to you?
– Lieut. I believe it is time our organizations share a little get together. Somehow, I know I can again serve your cause, whatever that may be perhaps even more than I can now if I know what you're looking for. Were on our way to Cumberan space.
##
– What are these ships,Boldo?
– That's odd sir, they are Mosester combat cruisers, although I doubt the Mosester can stare any ships right now…
– Unless they're the ships that were stolen during the raid by the unknown attackers?
– It could be, let's just move away. If they're in the business of stealing ships, were not very interesting to them in this piece of junk.
– But our cargo could be. Fly casual, okay?
– You're right, I will. Don't think Ugla would be pleased if we got hijacked.
The scanner started to signal a bunch of undecipherable beeps.
– What's that?
– My customized communication disscrambler. They're receiving some sort of encrypted transmission. Sounds like fun… I'll record it, maybe we'll end up with some information to sell also.
– Better not be too long, I want to get out of here as soon as I can.
– Come on, this could be huge. Just identifying them would bring a huge payback.
This time the warning light that flashed was not the disscrambler.
– They're powering up weapons!
– Let's get out of here!
To late. The unknown ship fired towards them, taking out their shield, before an ionic blow left them defenceless. Their comm beeped, and Tarm's face appeared.
– I believe you're carrying weaponry in your cargo hold that I would be most interested in. You ship is equipped with a detachable cargo hold. I would be kind enough not to shoot you if you would let it go, assuming all 142 rifles are included, of course.
The two smugglers looked at each other in amazement. Baldo was the first to talk.
– If they know how we're equipped and how many rifles were carrying, I guess we shouldn't mess with them. But Ugla is going to kill us!
– Relax, we've got the entire transmission, we can bargain that for our lives.
– Assuming it's any good.
They had no choice. Baldo started to put the riffles in the detachable cargo hold.
The Mosester ships picked up the cargo, took a few minutes to make sure it was all there, then left.
##
Drika was preparing for her meeting with the Outtemps. It was time to put them back in their place, clever but still inferior, trying to gain their master's gratitude by providing service. She was going to be their master, and they never would dare again question her decisions.
Tantrum came in.
– Sorry to interrupt, master. We've been hailed by an Ugla the Hutt. He wants to speak with Webell. He seems to be very upset. I think it would be wise to have you at Webell's side.
– You're right. I have a bad feeling about this… Go get Webell, will return the Hutt's hail after I'm done.
– The Hutt is standing by, and it requests Webell's answer immediately.
She looked worried
– alright then.
The Hutt came on screen and Webell was ready to face him.
– I don't like to be kept waiting!
– I'm sorry, but I'm in charge of a reign that now includes four systems. You must understand I have functions to attend and matters to take care of.
– You've got one more now. Your little trick of attacking ships with ion blows was nice when you attacked Mosester, but now that you're attacking my… Employees, it is not funny anymore.
– I don't know what you're talking about.
– shut up. The entire galaxy is aware of that trick you pulled on the Mosester cruisers after one cruiser nearly wrecked your entire squad.
Drika clenched her fists. The Outtemps!
– These weapons, these actions, they are the work of a small fraction called the Outtemp's. We collaborate with them on occasion but in the end, they act on their own. Whatever they might have done to your employees I had no control over.
– Parkwood Naseem Simocahlag!
– Basic please, you're not helping.
– I said, scum face, that you're going to have to come up with something better. If there was such an independent group, our information people would've already gathered enough on them to tear them down. I would not have to bother you. Second of all, we've got on my hands the transcription from their ship explaining just how you framed lead Mosester Phrenic's death. To me, that's enough to link their actions to yours, and that includes stealing cargo from my ships.
They were stunned. Webell sat down, as Drika lost focus and therefore her grip, for an instant. His face stiffened, and he looked at Ugla.
– Listen, Hutt. You don't want to be our enemy. I am telling you were not involved in this hijacking, you're gonna have to trust me.
– And I'm telling you I want my stolen cargo. And I don't trust you and your Outtemp fairytales.
– We didn't steal your cargo, they did!
– And Mosester ships. Right! Kabbalah Dada!
The Hutt disappeared, leaving the trio on their own. Finally, Drika broke the silence:
– I guess we've also got some criticizing of the Outtemp's ways when we do meet.
Tantrum agreed
– yes, but I don't like the sound of this, but at least it seems were not the only ones who have no information on the Outtemp. I find that very strange.
– It's almost as if they were newly formed on purpose… To collaborate with us. Who are these guys? They help us then they steal ships, then use the stolen ships to make us look bad. They had access to information, precious and rare information. Tantrum have I ever told you about Sporin? I don't think I have, and there are very very few people who know about this. We've got 36 hours before we get to Cumberan. Let's use it to dig up some information on these guys.
##
Lieut. Tarm was reading a data pad and spreading his orders.
– Alright people, we've got 45 minutes. After that we have a very important guest to pick up, will accompany us back to Cumberan for tomorrow. Check on the hostage. Dig out some more information on Drika. And especially I would like to know if there are any other ships in the area that could be Hutt. Especially Ugla.
– Right away Lieut.
three younger men stood up, one went to the hostage, the others to their station.
– There is a small freighter, C class, with fake ID and a crew of two. This could match what we're looking for.
Tarm thanked him and excused himself to go see Brett in person.
– What can I do for you?
Brett was all confidence and calm as usual despite being locked up in a cell.
– There is a small freighter with a crew of two right in our vicinity. I want to know what they're carrying, where, and for whom.
Brett took his time.
– An ion canon and 24 or 25 power up cells. They're heading for OsKos, paid for by your friend Ugla the Hutt.
– 24 or 25? You're right on target usually, is there a glitch in the Force?
– One of the men on board accidentally triggered one of the cells before takeoff, he believes it is now empty. The other one is unaware. Depends on who you trust.
«Man, he is good » thought Tarm.
– I'll settle for 24. Thanks.
##
– I found something, master. Not much but it might explain a little bit. Have you ever heard of the Moks?
– Nope?
– Well, they were a gangster group operating in the Cumberan system. Apparently, they were caught red-handed a couple of months ago. The band dismantled quickly in order to survive. The theory is that some of their members, after they escaped, joined forces with other renegades and became the Outtemps.
– Does that include Tarm?
– It's not his real name, aside from that information on the Moks is very scarce. Just good old word-of-mouth. And what is surprising is that this piece of information appeared today, in a place where we had looked before.
– Like it was put there to end our search. Keep digging.
– There is – something else, master.
He never likes to interrupt her. Even after all they had been thru together, he was still as scared of her as the first time.
– Go on.
– The Outtemps have hijacked another Hutt smuggler. Ion cannon, among other stolen merchandise. I expect another call from your friend Ugla.
She was now very concerned. She smashed her fist on the table, and a couple of lamps and lights went flying across the room.
##
– Lieut., the shuttle carrying your guest has safely entered the cargo bay. Should I send an escort to bring your guest here?
– That won't be necessary, I'll greet him myself.
– Sir, I would also like to point out something. Before your guest came on board, he sent two highly encrypted transmissions. One went to the gathering of Cumberan ships hidden behind the fourth moon, and the other, well, I believe went to Ugla the Hutt.
– That might have been more than your mandate, I don't like to spy on my guests. But still, this is good work. Just don't question this man's orders or actions. And don't bother to try to decrypt them, you won't be able to, and even if you would, you'd probably be disappointed by the lack of importance they carry.
Making his crew believe he was aware of the content of these messages was, he thought, a brilliant idea.
##
The comm beeped again in the ready room where Drika and Tantrum were working and Webell was as well, waiting to be useful. It was Panito.
– Chief elect, we have reached Cumberan space and have dropped out of hyperspace. That Outtemp ship is here and matches the description of the one involved in the Mosester battle. No other ships in the area, I'm awaiting your orders.
– Only one ship, they're not scared of us, aren't they? Shall we go?
– I'm going alone. You stay here and monitor the area very closely for incoming ships. You – she turned to Webell, go hide and find something to pass the time.
– Don't you think they could try something funny if you're alone?
– To me? You must be joking. Single-handedly they would never dare.
– They found the way to tie up Ho-Xin as a hostage…
– I don't believe it. Maybe they hurt him while he was in his ship. Or maybe they're lying.
##
Drika's ship entered the Outtemp's cargo bay, and the force field closed. She got ready to exit her ship, her Comlink beeped
– Master! It's a trap! Our invasion fleet on Mosester is under attack. Mosester ships, Cumberan ships, Basmilian ships, the rest of the Outtemp fleet we know and two dozen unidentified vessels we believe are under command of the Hutts.
Before Drika could reply, she felt the holo- vibration of the Outtemp ship going into hyperspace. She was stuck here, on her own. Nothing she couldn't handle, wasn't it? But she had an uncomfortable feeling. The cargo bay lights were out. She would let the Force guide her anyway. As she exited her ship, as if it was pre-organized, heatseeking laser beams were fired towards her. Her lightsaber redirected them as she crouched and surveyed around her. The cargo bay held two other ships, a nondescript shuttle and an undamaged X2 wing. Witch confirmed her feeling that Ho-Xin was not harmed at all.
She reached the door and opened it . She entered another storage area. But it was almost empty, aside from an ion cannon and boxes probably full of power charges. As she scanned the room, she felt his presence right away and turned around just in time for her blade to meet the attack from Brett Ho-Xin and his lightsaber. They exchanged blows just like they had in their last encounter, two evenly matched highly efficient duelists going hard at each other. But she could feel that he was waiting for something else, barely engaging with her until… Really? She felt… It can't be. But it would explain the Outtemp's knowledge of Sporin, for he was one of the very few who knew about it. She had been set-up, the Outtemp were in league with the Jedi, if not a creation from scratch from them. And it came from the top, she now had the confirmation.
She knew it because, closing in on her was another lightsaber, a green lightsaber, in the battle-ready mechanical right hand of Luke Skywalker.
TO BE CONTINUED