Legend of the Harp
By Hemaccabe
Episode III: The Crucible
Chapter 7: Float Like a Butterfly
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
*** Jedi Knight Jors Zaemon, Stygeon Prime, aboard Bearer, above Spire Prison ***
Furry was off on his errands and, for the first time, Fio was off on hers. I was worried about Fio, but what could happen to her? She was going to an unoccupied planet with a squad of troops to keep her safe.
I didn't even have Bayo. He was being responsible and keeping the various militias organized and operating.
I did have a crew. For once I had a real crew for Bearer. There was a pilot, navigator, four gunners, and two engineers. There was even an R4 Lieutenant in command. She was a good kid, not much older than Fio, she had just finished Officer's Training on the Rock with the CPF, but she was all Harp Fleet.
My crew all wore the standard duty uniform of the Harp Fleet which had been based on the standard duty uniform of the Corellian Guard Fleet. The duty uniform was a very practical and unromantic blue pressure suit. Kept in pockets around the suit were gloves and a bag one could pull over one's head. In a decompression situation, one could have the gloves and bag on in seconds and might survive. Harp Fleet crew drilled on this so they could do it swiftly under bad circumstances. There was also a button on the uniform one could press, if lost in space, that would make the suit turn orange and start flashing.
I also had a platoon of Harp Militia aboard. Normally that would mean only one Ball droid, but, in addition to the normal complement of biologic and droid troopers, we had a squad of five Balls in recognition that three-dimensional movement might be particularly useful on this mission.
I also had a CPF expert, Lieutenant Commander Pumfrey. We would be trying to penetrate the Spire prison on Stygeon Prime. There was likely no more difficult challenge, no more heavily guarded location in the galaxy. LCDR Pumfrey was one of the few Sappers that had come with the fleet. The Corellian Guard Fleet had not been keeping an excessive number of such individuals on payroll. Most had stayed on Corellia. We had searched our roles for anyone with anything approaching the useful skills we would need, we came up with only one name.
"Maybe we could hire some outside talent?" I had asked Furry after we held a first interview with Pumfrey.
"Take him, he's already on the payroll." Furry replied.
I'm not sure that reflected some Force insight on Furry's part or a desire to save Credits.
Pumfrey was short, balding and had a potbelly. He also had a tendency to sweat and lose his breath on short walks. Despite these fine features, he had a tendency to be a bit self-grandiose.
"I just need to be elected Fleet Admiral, then I will route those Imperial dogs from Corellia!" Was something I had heard him saying to himself several times when he didn't think anyone else was listening.
We had managed to insert ourselves over Stygeon Prime, by landing on one of the two moons above the planet. We would have liked to be on a rock in geosynchronous orbit directly above the prison, but none currently existed. Moving a rock into such a position might have been just a bit too obvious. I could all too easily imagine what they would say in the prison if a new satellite just suddenly showed up in geosynchronous orbit above the prison. Certainly, at the very least we would have been explaining it to the TIE fighters that came to investigate.
We had come out of hyperspace well out to minimize our emergence signature. We had carefully maneuvered into the system keeping rock between us and the planet, trying to be careful not to set off any remote sensors. We had managed to land, carefully, on the moon with the lower orbit on the side away from the surface. Our platoon of troopers got some EVA time setting up camouflage netting. Bearer already had a long com boom above her spine which we extended. The troopers also got to set up a bunch of other mission specific passive scan gear, particularly some big optical scanners during their EVA.
About every 22 hours we got an hour of observations. We were building a library, learning when ships came in and left. When shifts changed. What level of security particular openings had. What spots might be able to be penetrated.
I was trying to focus all of my Force insight on Mistress Unduli. It would be very useful if I could communicate with her, even just get her a sense we were here. I could feel her down there, but something was wrong. I couldn't establish any sort of contact.
We needed to hit this place fast, preferably having Mistress Unduli in hand before they knew we were there. We could overpower the place, bring in a big fleet and a battalion or two of troopers. The problem with that strategy was that if Mistress Unduli was alive down there now, they'd probably execute her the second our force showed up. Even if they didn't, the nature of a built-up emplacement like this was to give better than they got. It would be expensive in the lives of our troopers and ships trying to take this place. During the Clone Wars, a Jedi life would be considered a strategic objective worthy of expending many, poorly valued, clone lives. If there was any way the Order was truly complicit in the crime of using clones, it was in the way they consistently undervalued their lives. I tried to treat my clones with respect and dignity, value their lives as much as I would any other sentient being. But I was only one Jedi, clearly the Order's policy had not been the same. Still, I had followed orders and taken my battalion down to Exxelon knowing they would face those terrible casualties. The rational side of me stood by my actions and choices. I would have taken a battalion of any troops down to Exxelon. The strategic value was clear. It was worth the casualties. My heart didn't believe my rational side completely and probably never would. I'm not sure I could justify the lives of several hundred of our troopers and space crew for one Jedi.
It was also very possible this entire place was a setup and trap. That there were Imperial forces just off board just waiting to warp in and close the trap on such a rescue had to be a given.
After a couple weeks of observations, I had a conference with Pumfrey.
"We could build a space elevator down to the planet, lower an assault force, then reel them in once they have the objective in hand." Pumfrey suggested.
"Aside from the fact that such an elevator has many drawbacks, including being fragile, it would cost billions of Credits. There is also the likelihood that the people on the ground might just notice it being built and lowered." I replied, trying not to sound tart.
"Maybe that idea needs work." Pumfrey replied.
"Have you been able to determine if there are any openings where schedules of guards leave a weak spot we may be able to exploit? Have you been able to find an insertion path that would avoid their sensors?" I asked.
"Not yet, but I'll work on it." Pumfrey replied.
"You do that." I ordered.
I then left to go back to my own quarters to work the problem.
I'd been reviewing what we had learned and hadn't found an answer. Yet. Most facilities, even very secure facilities, had gaps in their sensor coverage. Sensors were expensive, and space was big. This place had overlapping fields. It also seemed like shifts of guards overlapped. Still every place had a weakness, I would find this one's.
*** And now a word from our sponsor! ***
Please don't miss that this is the third book in this exciting series. Legend of the Harp Episodes 1 and 2 are also on this site! Episode 4 may be on her way soon!
If you enjoy modern urban fantasy and my writing, you may also enjoy a series of three novels I have written in the Dresden Files universe of Jim Butcher, called Warlock of Omaha, Warlock of Omaha Squared and Warlock of Omaha Cubed!
I have also recently released a Star Trek novel. It's called Star Trek: Lost Destiny. Please consider this an invitation to read it.
This writer, like the story teller in the market of old, now has a hat out hoping for a small gratuity. There is no obligation and I'm grateful you took a moment to read. However, if my writing has found favor in your eyes, please take a moment to go to:
Pay
Pal
.me
/hemaccabe
and throw in a little something, a dime, a quarter, a dollar, etc.
While I love to write, I do have a spouse and a child and a job and many other claims on my time that don't understand why I would spend so many hours banging on a keyboard. A small tangible return would help smooth the way to allow me to provide many more stories.
Please help. Thank-you.