Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them.
Seek
"Oh do wait up Chewbacca!" the prissy tones of the protocol droid were accompanied by frantic clattering as the golden droid chased awkwardly behind the long-legged wookie. Chewbacca heaved sigh through his nose and slowed down slightly, allowing the droid to catch up for the umpteenth time.
"Thank the maker! I thought that this time you would surely leave me behind in this terrible place!" The droid exclaimed as it waddled beside him. "I still don't understand why you insisted that we come to this unpleasant moon. It's infested with criminals!"
Chewbacca growled irritably under his breath, [I have told you numerous times Threepio, we're looking for a female human that Han was companions with in the past. This is the last place she was seen, and you are here to translate for me.]
"Well yes, I understand that, I just don't understand why it had to be Nar Shaddaa of all places. This is a smuggler's moon," the droid emphasized.
Chewbacca turned his head and glared at the droid, [Yes. As smugglers Han and I spent a lot
of time here before we met the Alliance.]
"Ah, yes. My mistake," Threepio stammered.
As they continued walking forward, a junker skittered closer and chattered quickly at Chewbacca then gestured at the droid. Chewbacca had a good idea about what the little creature wanted, but he looked to the protocol droid anyway and rumbled at him questioningly.
"Oh dear. I do believe this creature is wishing to purchase me from you!" Threepio exclaimed, thoroughly distressed now.
Chewbacca chuckled, the sound a deep wuffling noise then picked up the half cybernetic being and held it up to his eye-level before growling menacingly causing the little thing to flail frantically in his grasp. With a huff he put it back down and watched in amusement as it quickly scampered away, running into several other sentients as it fled.
"My goodness, I just do not understand these uncivilized planets. Mistress Leia would be scandalized!" the droid spoke, sounding highly affronted.
[Somehow I doubt that. When we first met she was convincing us to jump into a trash compactor,] Chewbacca commented.
"Well yes, but I'm sure that was out of necessity and nothing more. I do wonder what a junker is doing so far away from Lotho Minor though," the golden droid added thoughtfully.
[They are common here,] Chewbacca shrugged his giant shoulders. [The scrap business is highly profitable for selling parts on the black market. Now come on, we need to keep moving, you are attracting attention.]
"I'm attracting attention?! Chewbacca, you're 2.28 metres tall! If anyone is attracting attention it is you!" C-3PO complained as he chased after Chewbacca.
Chewbacca growled irritably and sped up again. If he hadn't needed the chattery droid for translation he would have left it in the Falcon. Threepio stuck out like a sore thumb with his well polished metal plating and complaints about the moon's denizens and buildings, and he had been the reason they had been thrown out of several of the many cantinas they had visited since they arrived on the criminal's haven. It was grating on his already frayed nerves and making him irritable. [If you didn't complain so much you would be able to keep up,] he barked out over his shoulder as the droid teetered after him.
"How rude! I am not complaining you overgrown furball!" Threepio exclaimed as he continued to clatter along behind him to the next cantina.
As they turned a corner Chewbacca stopped in the walkway and eyed their newest destination thoughtfully causing the droid to ram into his back moments later. Chewbacca wuffed in amused annoyance as he dragged the sputtering Threepio off of the ground and set him back down on his feet. [This is the next place. Try to be a little more subtle this time,] he emphasized before he turned and walked through the entrance.
"I assure you I have no idea what you mean Chewbacca. I am a protocol droid; we are made to interact with sentients in any situation," Threepio scoffed, sounding as offended the droid could.
Chewbacca shook his head and continued forward, the neon lights reflecting brightly off of the metal droid. The lighting combined with the spice-smoke lacing the air and the band on the stage made the cantina gave off the feel of a night-club. He ignored the numerous inebriated patrons and made his way over to the bar, the crowd parting easily in front of his naturally menacing frame.
When the bartender turned away from the back of the bar he jumped visibly, and huddled toward the shelving that carried various drinks, "Ah..." the being cleared his throat awkwardly, "Ah, how may I help you… sir?"
[I'm looking for a human female named Xaverri. She's a friend and I was told she was here on Nar Shaddaa,] he stated flatly, though his growling vocals cause the bartender to jump again. Chewbacca turned toward Threepio and stared at him for several long moments.
"OH! Yes, um. This gentle-being is looking for a human female he calls Xaverri-" Threepio started and the bartender shook his head and cut him off.
"I don't really know anything like that, I'm pretty new here. You'll want to check with the information broker over there," he gestured toward the corner toward a booth, "I don't know his name, but yeah, um. If anyone knows anything it'll be him."
Chewbacca snorted and shook his head as he headed over to the corner, 'new' was right, and if that was how the man was going to act around the more intimidating-looking customers then he probably wouldn't last long. He reached the booth and stood over it taking advantage of his height and appearance to deliberately intimidate what he quickly identified as a sullustan, [The bartender says you're the information broker.]
"Ah, my friend here was told you're a broker of information?" C-3PO asked uncertainly.
"Yeah, whatcha wanna know, huh?" the man replied, his voice scratchy and gruff, carrying the accent of someone who was more comfortable speaking Huttese than Basic.
Chewbacca chose not to repeat his earlier question and just stared intently at Threepio until he got the point, "Oh, we are looking for a human, her names is Xaverri."
"Xaverri, hmm. You mean that magician? She's not going by that name these days. Prefers her stage name," the sullustan commented and scratched at his stomach. "Yeah, I know where she is."
The wookie nodded; finally someone who actually knew something, [Ask him how much he wants.] The protocol droid translated dutifully as they began haggling.
The sullustan eyed them both shrewdly,"Two-hundred credits."
[Seventy-five,] Chewbacca stated flatly.
"He says he will pay seventy-five credits," Threepio parroted in basic.
"Ha," the sullustan crossed his arms, "You are funny, wookie. I like that, so for you I will offer a discount. One-hundred and seventy-five credits."
Chewbacca shook his head and bared his teeth, [I can find this information somewhere else for cheaper. One hundred.]
"Oh dear, he says he can find the information he needs elsewhere if he has to, and offers one hundred credits," Threepio translated, looking a tad antsy as he shifted his head back and forth between the two.
The sullustan grit his teeth sensing he was about to lose the deal, "Fine, one-hundred and fifty credits."
Chewbacca wuffed and cracked his knuckles threateningly, [One-twenty-five or no deal.]
"Ah, he appears to be angry now. He says one-hundred and twenty five credits or there will be no deal," Threepio explained. "I would take it if I were you, he has quite the temper."
The sullustan gulped visibly and cleared his throat, "Ah, did I say one-fifty? I meant one-twenty of course." He smiled showing his half rotten teeth and held out his hand to shake.
Chewbacca looked down at the being's dirty hand then looked back into his eyes, [Where is she? And what's her stage name?] Threepio repeated the question to the sullustan in Basic.
The sullustan drew back his hand and rubbed it on his equally dirty pants, "Alright, alright. Keep your fur on big guy." Chewbacca growled low in the back of his throat and the sullustan seemed to pick up the hint and continued, "She's over at The Cryptic Togruta in the Red Light Sector; goes by The Mystic. If you get there soon she'll be finishing up her shows for the night."
Chewbacca reached into his pouch and counted out the credits before dropping them on the table, [Nice doing business with you.] He turned and walked away before Threepio had even finished translating, leaving the droid to catch up. They had to hurry if they wanted to get there before she left for the night.
"Oh do wait up Chewbacca!" the droid wailed yet again as he clattered behind the wookie towards the nearest speeder rental.
Luke shivered again and shifted in his seat as the final few seconds passed before they were cleared to leave the hangar, "Alright everyone, once the blast-doors are open, wait for my mark." With a loud groan the massive doors slid to the sides and crashed as they settled into place leaving the hangar open to space with a force-field keeping the atmosphere in. "Three, two, one. Mark," Luke said steadily and the thirteen X-wings rose into the air at once, the astromechs timing the take-off with his order. Luke pushed forward on the throttle and exited the hangar with the others following close behind him. He breathed in deeply and smiled despite the chill. It had been too long since he had flown, and the bad feeling that had been hounding him for over a week had faded to a background prickle that he was able to ignore. On an impulse he banked to the right then turned the yoke and twisted through a series of loops and barrel rolls before he flipped upside-down relative to the others and flew back to join them, flipping right-side up back in his position in the lead.
"'Try not to mess around too much,' eh, Rogue Leader?" Luke heard Hobbie comment over the group channel.
"I see he has a do as I say not as I do policy," he heard Irys add wryly.
"Aw, give the guy a break, he's been stuck in his bed for ages," Wes said with a laugh.
"Thanks Rogue Three, you're a real pal," Luke responded, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, any time boss-man," Wes replied, his voice betraying his obvious smile.
Luke shook his head and smiled, "Well come on then, let's get this party started. Everyone break into your groups. Squad One with me." He banked off to the side with Wedge and Irys matching his movements, as the other four following behind closely.
"See you on the other side Rogue Leader," Wes said cheerfully as the other group split away from Luke's group,
"May the Force be with you," Luke said reflexively, then refocused on his group and flipped over to the squad's channel. He keyed up, "Okay people, you know what we're looking for so let's head on in."
As they made their way into the planet's gravity well and continued on into the atmosphere, the change caused predictable turbulence as they went. Luke focused on Irys to distract himself from his ship's struggling heating system and was pleased that she took to the change with ease. He quickly realized she hadn't been joking about her abilities as she adjusted to, and rode with the air currents with a smoothness that not many were able to achieve. Most usually treated aircrafts in the same way they would a land-speeder and went in whatever direction they needed with less thought towards the air they were travelling through and more to their destination. It wasn't usually a problem in the vacuum of space, but atmosphere travel gave many pilots trouble because of it.
As they got closer to their assigned coordinates Luke focused on his radar, his breath feathering out visibly as he spoke, "Alright Artoo, let's see what we've got going on here." He pulled his scarf up over his nose and focused on the task at hand.
The droid trilled an affirmative and began scanning the area below. Luke looked out the window and was hit by a pang of nostalgia. Despite the sub-zero temperatures, the planet looked surprisingly similar to Tatooine. The area he was flying over was similar to the Jundland Wastes with its rocky dry earth and canyons in the near distance, and just like on his home planet, he could see large dunes of sand further away. The only real difference aside from the obvious contrast in temperature, was the much dimmer sunlight that came from the distant star which, when combined with the Ivax Nebula's varying colouration, cast strange hues over the land.
For the next couple of hours Luke lost himself in the slow repetitive sweeps over the land with occasional stops for deeper scans in some areas and com-checks with the other squad. Then he saw a blip on his radar and shot to attention. As he rotated his X-wing to the side with cold-stiffened fingers to get a visual on what the radar had detected. After a moment he smiled. If he wasn't imagining things (a common problem when traveling on desert worlds), then he was looking at a depression in the ground with a small building inside.
"Guys," he keyed up on the main channel of the comlink, "I think I've got something. I'm gonna take a closer look." He keyed his coordinates in and sent them to the others before he levelled out and glided closer, "You getting anything Artoo?"
The droid warbled an affirmative and the screen to Luke's right filled with Basic, "I'm detecting heat signatures, and a very short-ranged distress signal, which is what I picked up on in the first place."
Luke tried to not get his hopes up, but it was hard, "This might just be it bud. See if you can pick up on any underground structures." He circled closer allowing the droid to perform deeper scans and was pleased to find that the depression appeared to be sentient-made, similar to those on Tatooine. What he had thought to be a small building appeared to be made with weather worn industrial-made durasteel, with an equally aged door.
Artoo whirred and beeped, and more text filled the screen, "Preliminary scans indicate that this is
likely a mining facility. It has a large underground complex as well as an extensive network of tunnels, both sentient-made and natural."
"Rogue Leader to Control, I think I've got something, sending information now," Luke said with a grin.
"Copy that Rogue Leader," Madine replied from the Corellia's Luck.
Luke heard a whoop over the com-channel as Artoo relayed the information to the 'Luck
as well as the other Rogues.
"Looks like you did it," he heard Wes comment with an audible whine in his voice.
"Hey, unlike you he didn't send us to check out a bunch of false-alarms. Or did you forget the rock you thought was a ship?" Hobbie ribbed, leaving Wes to mutter childishly.
"Rogue Squadron, you're cleared to investigate this location," Madine cut in over the com, "We will be sending dropships shortly, meet up with them and prepare for an incursion into the building. We don't know what you will be encountering, but we know something is alive in there. Be on your guard."
"Copy that Control," Luke replied shook his head at the other's antics, "Come on people, let's bring it in. Head toward the coordinates and we'll wait for the drop-ships."
He received acknowledgements from the others and waited patiently for them to reach the designated coordinates as he circled the area in slightly wider sweeps to check for other entrances. "This place must be old," Luke commented as he returned to the meeting
point, "Durasteel usually lasts a long time and this entrance is showing decay." He had known that the Alliance had repurposed an older factory, but if this was the place they were looking for (and something told him it was), then it truly was old.
"I'd say pre-Republic at the least," Irys noted thoughtfully. "You didn't find a landing zone?"
Luke shook his head, "No. If there is one it either got buried or it's attached to one of the tunnels under there."
"If that's the case it could be kilometres away. For all we know this is a back entrance," Dixie pointed out.
"True enough," Luke nodded, "This entrance is our best bet for now though; we'll just have to land around the entrance and put tarps over the ships. If this place is anything like my homeworld there will be sandstorms."
"Your homeworld sounds like it was a barrel of laughs Leader," Wes said with a laugh.
Luke snorted, "That's one way to put it. Hopefully you won't have to experience one."
They continued to circle around the entrance for several minutes until they heard the rumble of the drop-ships entering the atmosphere, "Alright everyone spread out and give them room," Luke directed and they widened the perimetre as the ships roared through the air to join them.
The pilot of the head drop-ship's voice crackled across the com-channel, "Terra One to Rogue Leader, how do you want to do this?"
"I was thinking something a little unorthodox. If you guys could land in a circle with your sides facing in, that would probably provide more cover against any sand-storms that may kick up out here. We'll just squeeze in the middle and start setting up tarps while you unload," Luke replied.
"Are you sure that's safe? Don't want you guys getting jumped from the building," the drop-ship's pilot responded.
"We've been here for a few minutes and nothing has happened, I'll keep my guns trained on the entrance, but I doubt we'll run into anything until we're inside," Luke shrugged.
"Copy that Rogue Leader, I'll relay it to the others, feel free to drop down when we're settled," the man responded and disappeared from their com-channel.
"Alright everyone, you know what to do, let's get down there and start getting everything set up," Luke told the others and as soon as the last drop-ship touched down he lead the squadron in to land. As the sand cloud created by all of the ships cleared he popped the canopy of his fighter and took his helmet off. He shivered even harder as the cold air rushed in to fill the small space he had been sitting in. "Stars it's cold," he muttered to himself as he pulled a pair of goggles on over his eyes before he drew his fur-lined hood up over his head and tightened his scarf further. He readied himself with a deep breath that burned its way into his lungs, then hauled himself out of the seat to make his way down the ladder with his cold-numbed extremities.
Once Luke's feet hit the ground he suppressed a violent shiver and fiddled awkwardly with the clasp on the cargo compartment under his fighter until it unlatched. With a heave he pulled his supply container out and wrestled a tightly folded tarp out of its bag along with a mallet. With more effort than he had expected he attached part of the tarp to the ground using spikes, before he grit his teeth and drew his arm back. With a grunt he tossed a rope with a weighted end over his fighter praying to the Force that he hadn't miscalculated. The last thing he needed was a cracked canopy on an icy desert planet. When it landed without a problem on the other side he let out a relieved breath that misted in front of him and walked over to where it had landed. He began pulling the tarp the rest of the way over it using the rope that was attached.
Once he had fully attached the rest of the tarp to the ground he looked around as best he could through the frost that had spiderwebbed across his goggles and walked over to help others finish covering their fighters. After they had finished he and the rest of the squadron fell in behind the ground-forces as they took point and forced their way in through the small entrance to the facility.
"What do ya think we'll find Luke?" Wes called over to him as they funnelled their way into what turned out to be a long hallway.
Luke shrugged as they crossed the threshold of the door and hugged his arms against himself, "Honestly I just hope wherever we end up it's warmer than this. I feel like I'm gonna freeze in place."
Wes laughed, "Oh come on Commander, it's not that bad." He smiled teasingly, "'Course, not all of us come from a planet with two suns."
"I don't care who you are, this dustball is cold Wes. Stop being an idiot," Dixie retorted and sniffled loudly under his scarf. "I don't know who picks our base planets, but it would be nice to have a nice temperate one like Salvation more often."
They walked along quietly for the next several minutes, their feet rattling the durasteel grating on the ground as they went before they were all forced to a halt when the people in front of them stopped moving forward.
Luke heard an explosion and the clatter of metal hitting metal followed by a loud clang as a door was roughly swung open allowing the crowd to surge forward again.
"Alright guys, wait for them to clear the area before we go in. I don't know about you, but I'm not wearing protective gear under all of this," Luke directed. The others nodded and split off to stand against the sides of the hallway.
They waited tensely for several minutes before their coms crackled to life breaking the com-silence, "Green Leader to Rogue Squadron, you're clear to enter. Scans show that the temperature should be relatively consistent ahead if you want to leave some of your outer-wear in here. Just make it quick."
Luke nodded, "Clear, we're headed your way."
They continued forward and crossed into a well lit and significantly warmer room causing the group to sigh in relief. "Thank the stars, I thought I'd never be warm again," Hobbie said with a relieved sigh.
Luke had to agree with the sentiment as pulled his goggles down around his neck so that he could see the space better. It was what he had expected from an older mining facility's bunking facility: old synth-foam mattresses on free-standing bunks, and completely coated in dust. Clearly if the alliance was there, they hadn't been using this section of the building for living purposes, but there were old trunks strewn around, and the halls were plastered with old flimsi-posters and pages from flimsi-serials. He looked around at the remaining signs of life as he removed a couple of his more bulky layers, wondering idly what had caused the facility to be abandoned.
Wes elbowed him and pointed at the wall with a grin. After a closer look Luke had to roll his eyes at how typical the wall was. Interspersed among faded Clone Wars propaganda flimsi-posters were various scantily clad models.
"Some things never change, do they?" Luke shook his head in amusement.
"I certainly hope not," Wes winked and snickered.
"The level of maturity this group displays is truly astounding," Irys commented wryly.
"Oh you have no idea," Wedge shook his head in frustrated amusement.
"Look alive back there, we're heading further in," the same voice from before crackled over their com-links and everyone immediately turned serious.
"We're clear," Luke responded and gestured for his squadron to move forward. They continued on quietly following the ground troops room to room until the Lieutenant leading the group gestured for everyone to halt at the end the hallway they had been walking down. After a few more gestures a much larger cluster of the troops quickly moved forward and broke off to begin searching what Luke realized must be a much larger room. They waited patiently until a quiet voice spoke over the com-link, "No contact, but there is a light down a hallway on the far side of the room. We're about to head down there, be prepared to back us up."
"Understood," the Lieutenant that had remained with them responded. A few more moments of silence passed as everyone seemed to hold their breath, then the room ahead echoed with yelling and laser-fire.
For a split second they all stood, taking in the noise, then the Lieutenant bellowed, "MOVE!" and they rushed forward.
The darkness of the large room put the group at a disadvantage, as a few of them tripped over old machines on their way to the source of the noise and light. A vehicle garage, Luke realized as he smoothly leapt over a rusting mining machine of some sort. He firmed his jaw and drew the Force further around himself with a determined calm before he spread his senses out from himself, taking in the situation. Ahead of him was a chaotic cluster of Force presences radiating a plethora of emotions, and behind him were even more, but he focused on those in front of him trying to gauge what was going on before he got there.
Hostility. Surprise, stamped down in favour of survival. Anger. Determination. Searing hatred. Desperation. HATE.
Luke shuddered as the hatred almost seemed to crawl over his skin unpleasantly. Then, without any warning, the Force screamed from metres away, and Luke felt one of the presences flicker and disappear. Waves rippled through the Force, and Luke stumbled mid-step at the obvious loss of a life. A pained gasp escaped him, and his eyes burned with unshed tears. So this was what death truly felt like in close proximity.
How had he not felt something, ANYTHING, when the Death Star had exploded? How had it not been crippling?
How could his father stand this?
Without realizing it, his feet (or the Force), had continued to carry him toward the blaster-fight. With a pained moan he released as much of the anguish he felt as he could into the Force, and shoved the rest of it aside. He couldn't help his people if he was out of commission (?), and so he drew his blaster with his left hand as he burst into the hallway. Allowing the Force to flow through him, he opened fire.
His aim was horrifyingly precise, he realized as he hit the opponents, again and again in lethal spots; because there was no time to disable. No time for mercy.
There were so many of them.
He became almost numb as the shock-waves of death from his side battered him, and what he wouldn't have done for his light-sabre, he thought despairingly as bolt after laser-bolt shot past him. At some point he noticed Irys dart past him and into the fray, a deadly whirl of fur with violent intent and armed with nothing but two vibroblades.
Eventually he was forced to dive in after her in order to take out one of the enemies that had managed to surprise her, and from that point the fight turned into close quarters combat where his blaster was used as a bludgeon just as often as it was used to fire point-blank or ranged into the writhing mass of enemies.
And didn't the close range battle feel so much more natural? Power sang through his veins, and under all of the horror he felt... he felt...
Another wave of death crashed over him, and tore through his train of thought as several of his people died to a grenade.
He forgot everything else; his mind blank from the trauma of feeling others die, but something, something was wrong here, the Force whispered.
And then he was holding up the last of them, pinned against the wall with his crimson bathed robotic hand increments away from crushing the person's throat as his thoughts finally started to catch up with him. His first instinct was to be violently, violently ill.
The aftershocks of death surged around him, so continuous it barely felt like waves anymore.
This. THIS must be how Force-users fought. By shutting it all out. Because how else was he supposed to deal with this?
"Is it not odd that they all wore the armor of clone troopers?" a female voice filtered through his nausea, and finally he processed what exactly he was looking at. It was strange, he realized as he loosened his grip slightly. He heard a gasp come from within the person's helmet as they gulped in much needed air.
He glanced around himself at the piles of bodies, and again came close to throwing up, but he had seen what he hadn't noticed in the disconnected madness of the earlier fight: each one wore complete suits of clone armor. Armor that hadn't been seen in the greater galaxy with this level of completeness since he was a young boy. Luke turned back to the person he was holding up and without much thought he yanked the helmet off of them with his left hand.
He heard several people gasp behind him, but he just stared blankly at the face that should not have been there. A face that he had only ever seen in edu-holos while in History classes.
"No freaking way," he heard someone exclaim in utter bewilderment.
This was the face of Jango Fett. The face of the clones that had been considered dead for a years now, due to how they had been produced.
High-speed growth. Ancient at the age of twenty.
And the man was staring at Luke with so much loathing that Luke almost flinched away.
"This just got a lot more complicated," the same female voice from before commented. He turned and realized it was Irys as he watched the blood-stained bothan pull off the helmet of another one of the troopers to reveal the exact same face. "Much, much more complicated," she added as she observed the dead man with expressionless analysis.
"No karking shit," someone else spoke up from the group.
AN: *shuffles awkwardly* Sooooooo, some of you may know that I accidentally got side-tracked with a Zootopia fanfic I started (and completed), and am in the process of editing and posting. On top of that my life has been hectic. I've finally learned my lesson, I'm never posting anything optimistic about speedy updates ever again.
That aside, I hope you're having a Happy Yuletide/Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus/etc., and that you didn't get a visit from Krampus!
Random Info:
- Xaverri is a character from the Legends
- C-3P0 annoys the snot out of me, but damn if he isn't fun to write
- Lotho Minor is basically the galaxy's giant dump heap, and is, in fact, the same planet that a certain iconic horned Sith was found during The Clone Wars TV series.