CHAPTER VI
With terrifying speed, events were occurring which would spell the end of not only countless lives, but of ideals and even thoughts and principles that had been the basis of galactic civilization for thousands of generations. Change, that inherent constant in all life, would prove brutal in this dark time. The foundations for a new society were being laid. A New Order ; and Palpatine had decreed that his Empire would have a tomb for a cornerstone.
In every region of the galaxy, death descended. One by one, the Jedi Knights were massacred. They were easy to locate, for their religion required them to remain among the beings they were sworn to protect; even in the most terrible circumstances. Indeed, because of them. And the citizens of the galaxy turned against the Jedi. Led their assassins to them.
In the last days of the war, the good those warriors had done was forgotten in light of the threat of their becoming rulers. Clones! Clones. The word was on countless lips. It fueled paranoia wherever sentient beings existed.
Twenty years before, clones were a reality only to the scientists who had created them. Even as the war over cloning raged, those unnatural beings were being cultivated. Barracks housing thousands of future soldiers of the New Order were now under the complete control of the Galactic President. Also under his control were the original results of the cloning experiment.
Thirteen mutants, defective examples of technology gone mad, had been concealed under high security in the same laboratory complex where they had begun life. Spared years before, for experimentation, they had been kept alive by ambitious politicians. Now these blood-thirsty beings were being put to good use by Neiamas Palpatine. He needed a killing machine to deal with the Jedi. He deployed thirteen.
They were efficient, thorough, and enjoyed their assignments; as evidenced by the regular reports the President received. Detailed accounts of brutal murders were enhanced by the contemplation of the growing number of Jedi family members and sympathizers who would no longer pose a threat to Palpatine's rule. His propaganda had worked flawlessly. His future subjects were helping to eliminate the very individuals who could have stood between them and subjugation.
* * *
In the doorway of Kenobi's home, Besantilier stood watching the twin suns slide down the dusty horizon. It had been hours since the Corellian had left her to watch the skies in vain. A few ships had appeared in the distance, only to turn toward the spaceport. Why had she come here? Kenobi might not return for months! In fact, Bes had no assurances that he would return at all. She turned away from the view as another contraction began. A fine time to be utterly alone, she thought fearfully. Her babies would be born in this desolate place with no one to assist her. No one even knew she was here.
But someone did; and he had never realized how much he loved her until that moment. She was alone, frightened, and crying softly in the dark and he could not hold her. But he stayed, protecting her with his spirit. It was the last thing he could do for his wife and the babies about to be born...one baby, especially. * * *
On Radiaa, Aerolone Mothma was arranging for the safety of her own baby. It would be impossible to keep politics and family separate in the future, Palpatine had proven that. Dack was her heart, all her hopes, all that remained of Tajerh. Eventually, Palpatine would strike at her through the only thing she had left-her child. Aerolone had cried for two nights in her empty bed before she faced the inescapable fact that her decision to oppose Palpatine would cost her child.
"Are you sure it must be this way, Aerolone?" Marcea's kind face was streaked with tears. "Eritria will be blockaded. You may never see either of us again. Don't do this, child. I love you, I..."
Aerolone took Dack from her mother's arms and held him tightly; kissed his cheeks and the little hands that stroked her face. "I know, Mother. I love you both, more than my life. That is why you must take Dack. The Guild will protect you." She returned the baby to her mother's arms then embraced them both, knowing the moment might have to last forever. "Everything is ready. The landspeeder is waiting to take you to the spaceport. This is the only way."
"What will become of you?" Marcea sobbed. "Your child will be safe, but what of mine ?" Aerolone steeled herself against her mother's tears, perilously close as she was to her own, and pressed two holotapes and a small satchel from her own shaking hand into her mother's.
"Your child will survive. Don't believe anything you hear unless it comes from our friends. I trust you with my only son. Trust me. I know what I'm doing. I love him, and I love you and I thank you. Now, go." The Senator watched, a cold lump in her throat, as the last of her family walked out of her life. Part of Tajerh would live on in safety and freedom on Eritria, she would see to that. If her plan was successful.
* * * Senator Vanest Rienstra had ,some time before, taken into his household three new servants. Not that he needed them; but it was the only way the Freedom's Sons could be unobtrusively included in official political gatherings.
It unnerved Rienstra to have such men around; for the Freedom's Sons were as professional a group of killers as could be imagined. Their ideals were the same as the Jedi Knights, but their methods were 180 degrees different. Where Aerolone Mothma had found them, Rienstra didn't ask, but they were perfect for the job.
The occasion was a formal banquet at Rienstra's estate. There, the elite and titled families of the inner systems would assemble to meet their President.
With Palpatine becoming increasingly more isolated, such an opportunity was endash as Aerolone had planned it- too good to miss.
The President and his entourage arrived fashionably late and were greeted by cordial applause. Rienstra watched the flurry of preening and posturing that surrounded Palpatine. Bootlickers, Aerolone called them, and Rienstra could not think of a more appropriate term.
After an elaborate dinner, the guests dispersed to the canopied garden for drinks and conversation. Rienstra maintained discreet eye contact with Naylor; each of them watching for the right moment to begin the operation. Endless minutes passed; it appeared as though the President would spend the evening surrounded by diplomats and minor officials from the rim systems. For a man as antagonistic as Neiamas Palpatine, this lengthy sociability was out of character. It was also unexpected.
In the house, both Senators knew, the three servants were strapping thermal explosives to their bodies. Time was running out. "Relax, Senator," Palpatine smiled." You are to be commended. I have found this evening most enjoyable."
"Our drinks should be here." Rienstra forced himself to remain calm." I'll see what's keeping the servants."
He excused himself and disappeared into the house. Palpatine's eyes followed him intently.
The three men were nearly prepared , they were studying the crowd when Rienstra joined them. "What the hell are you waiting for?!" The black Senator glared at the three." I think he suspects something!" "Can't you get him alone?" The taller of the men asked. "No, damnit!" Rienstra swore nervously. "And I can't very well tell him to come in here! What do we do now?" "Exactly as we had planned." The leader replied bluntly." We're sorry about your friends, but many more will die if we don't kill him now."
"Stay inside ,Senator. We'll tell Naylor you want to see him."
It would only take seconds to die, and take Palpatine with them. One by one they shook the Senator's hand as Palpatine rose from his chair and started toward the house.
"This is for Tajerh." One of the Freedom's Sons growled.
"He's coming in!" Rienstra's voice was a tense whisper as he looked outside. The four men exchanged worried glances. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. The door closed; Palpatine strode toward them. Only Rienstra faced him. One of the commando's breathed a "We're sorry..."
"Is there some problem, Senator?" Palpatine's gaze narrowed. He was directly behind the servants. Looking between them at Rienstra.
"Do it now..." Vanest Rienstra murmured. The three men turned, and a massive explosion destroyed the room.
* * *
News of the assassination attempt would never reach the general public. At least, not officially. Had Palpatine been killed, the galaxy would have known in hours; but he survived.
The fact that a Senator and eight off-world diplomats died on the same night was never explained. Neiamas Palpation forbade any mention of the attack.
Survivors were strongly encouraged to say nothing, but word spread quickly in the Senate. Neiamas Palpatine should not have survived the explosion. He was hurled backward through the glass doors, but the only injuries he sustained were cuts and bruises. Bodies in fragments surrounded him, but the Darkness protected Palpatine. He had been immediately whisked away under heavy security.
* * * Aerolone Mothma knew only that Neiamas Palpatine had survived a blast that killed, not only Vanest Rienstra and the Freedom's Sons, but eight guests outside the house. It was uncanny. It was the possibility of failure that prompted Aerolone to send her mother and child to Eritria, even when failure seemed impossible. Palpatine had done the impossible, and he would, Aerolone thought, do far worse.
Two things replayed themselves over and over in her mind: she had made matters worse, and, no mere human could be alive after three close range thermal detonations.
So the Freedom's Son's were added to Palpatine's list of "Wanted-Dead", along with the Jedi Knights. Rienstra had perished in his own plot; but Palpatine would afford no traitor further opportunity to attack him. Everything he wanted to do would be accomplished by order and all of the power at Darkness' command, far from the reach of anyone or anything. From that night, Aerolone Mothma devoted all her time and energy to organizing the disparate bands of revolutionaries throughout the galaxy into a focused, well-equipped army. An army that would-at every opportunity-strike hard at whatever oppression the Galactic President initiated.
* * *
It was night now, on Tatooine, and Besantilier, he contractions stronger and more frequent, prepared her small store of supplies. She had brought everything needed to deliver a baby, all the tools, she thought as tears streamed down her face, that Kenobi would need. The fear was growing even as the pain was. She had come across the galaxy to protect her children; now they would suffer for her foolishness Kenobi would not arrive in time to help her.
She lay down on the hard cot, contractions ripping through her. Wave after wave of mind-numbing pain. Distorted visions danced before her eyes-the face of her long dead mother dissolved into that of Celis Organa. Both women smiled at her, kind and understanding. They had come, as she knew someone would. Bes relaxed, the pain eased, only to be followed by another and another until there was nothing but pain.
In her delirium she saw her friend Linaire, then Obi-Wan...so real. They were right beside her, but her flailing hands grasped only warm, empty air. If only it were all over. If only the voices would go away. They laughed at her, called her name.
"Bes..." She looked through pain clouded eyes at the bare walls surrounding her. The voice came again and she cringed. It was him! He had found her. Panic clutched at her throat as she drew he knees up in agony. "Please, Darth," she screamed. "Don't hurt us...in Mercy's name, they're your children!"
"Bes..."Vader's voice was everywhere but she could not see him.
"Please," She moaned. "Please..."
Tortured screams rang through the desert night as an elliptical spacecraft plunged through Tatooine's atmosphere.
* * *
Obi-Wan Kenobi had spent years with death and bloodshed; but nothing could have prepared the Jedi for the scene that greeted him when he stepped into his dwelling.
Lying on his bed, deathly pale, was Besantilier. Beside her on the bloodied bedclothes lay two infants. Again, he was too late.
Cursing himself, Kenobi moved immediately to do what he could for the young woman. She had made a feeble attempt to sever the umbilical cords after each baby's birth, succeeding only partially. In giving new life, she had forfeited her own. Besantilier was bleeding to death.
All Kenobi could do was employ the Force to ease her pain. He placed his fingers on her temple, leaned closer trying to make out her words. "Darth...Darth, no...I can't."
"Shhhh," Obi-Wan soothed. "He's gone, Bes. Darth is dead. He can't harm you."
"My babies!" She gasped." Are they...?"
"They're fine, beautiful babies." Kenobi assured her." Please forgive me, Bes, for all the misery I have cause you."
"Not your fault." She caressed his face with a cold hand, felt his tears flowing down her fingers." Bring them to me." She begged. Her breathing was uneven now, and she watched as the Jedi placed the babies in her arms." Look at them, Obi-Wan." She pleaded." Tell me it won't all begin again."
Kenobi knew, all too well, what she feared. He studied the two newborns sadly. A boy and a girl; one fair- haired, the other dark. Innocent and helpless, squirming in their mother's embrace. With utmost care, the Jedi lifted and cradled the girl. The child was strong and good. No need for a lie of kindness.
"There is nothing to fear here, Bes." He said as he smoothed the infant's brown hair." There is hope in this child." He returned Bes' daughter to her arms, picked up the little boy...and froze.
Warning flashes exploded in his brain, but no trace of apprehension was on his face. Unfortunately, even the Jedi could not mask the horror in his eyes.
Bes saw it and knew it for what it was. There, in her beautiful, gurgling son, was everything dark and evil about his father. "Oh, no..."Bes moaned.
"Don't, child." Kenobi desperately tried to keep his own fear from his voice." He is an innocent. He too has hope. Through him I can undo a great wrong. It will be all right, trust me."
With trembling hands, the Jedi placed the infant beside the other. "Rest quietly, Bes." He instructed. "I'll ready ship. In a few hours you will be safe on Alderaan."
Kenobi had been gone only a moment when Darth Vader's voice reached Besantilier again. "Do not let Kenobi take him, Bes." The ghostly voice warned sadly." He is a child of Darkness."
"Obi-Wan believes he can be saved." She answered, weeping.
"You know that isn't true." Vader spoke gently." The choice must be yours; but, my love, would you want to join me knowing you leave our son to be the Destructor?"
Bes cradled her tiny son, searching for some sign that the Jedi had been wrong. Finding none broke her heart.
"Why?" She sobbed." Why must my last act in life be murder?"
* * *
Shielding his face from the blowing sand by pulling his hood down, Obi-Wan hunched over against a moaning wind. Any sandstorm on Tatooine's wastes was dangerous, but a night storm was the worst. In an hour, at the most two, conditions would be too treacherous to attempt a liftoff, particularly with such delicate passengers.
Kenobi's mind really wasn't on Besantilier, or Alderaan. There were things he had to deal with before he could hole up somewhere. He needed time to meditate, to rethink his place in the scheme of things. If there was a place for him after what he had done.
Pausing to shake the sand from his robes, Obi-Wan called out. "The ship is ready." His voice trailed off. Unnatural silence stopped him short, silence louder than the empty desert.
Death...Death was here. Now, all was truly lost.
With the last breath of life in her, Darth Vader's ill-fated widow had murdered her own son. Another tragic chapter his sin of pride had authored.
Of all the deaths the Jedi had seen in his life, these wrenched Kenobi's heart to abject devastation. Tears coursed down his face. But a piteous wail tore his attention from the dead.
Wrapped in an embroidered coverlet, stirring beneath her mother's limp hand, was the infant girl. The tiny, dark haired baby filled the night with the healthy sound of robust life.
With infinite tenderness and compassion, Obi-Wan lifted the tiny bundle and touched the soft cheek with his callused fingertip.
"Forgive me, little one," He whispered to the now quiet infant. "My folly has left us both alone."
A short time later, a funeral pyre illuminated the black desert night. Standing before it, Obi-Wan spoke the age-old words of honor, the Jedi Invocation of Passage.
"Be on your way, Besantilier Vader; strengthen the light with your spirit. Your service has been an example to all, and the good you have done will bring forth new hope. Through the Force you have touched and have been touched. Pass now to the highest knowledge, the highest power, luminous being. Pass from one life of Light, to the Light of all life."
The infant in his arms slept peacefully as the remains of her mother and her birth twin dissolved into smoke and sparks that vanished into the solemn night.
* * *
The Lorinth spacestation rotated majestically between Alderaan and it's yellow-white sun. A city unto itself, Lorinth boasted the latest in hotel and entertainment facilities to tempt the out-system traveler as well as scientific and industrial manufacturing laboratories for the entire Alderaan system.
It was to Lorinth that Linaire and Einar Antilles had gone to find Bes, and the station's well equipped medical center was where Linaire's baby would be born; a development that upset her companions far more than it did her.
"This is disgraceful!" The bronze protocol droid paced back and forth outside the examining room door." My Mistress would not be in this insulting position if we had been given priority clearance we deserved for departure." Einar Antilles rubbed his sore neck muscles, seriously considering deactivating the droid.
"Only military vessels have priority clearance in wartime,Threepio," He explained. He'd lost track of how long they had been waiting, but with the droid's incessant complaining, it felt like days. "Lady Skywalker is in excellent hands. The facilities her are as good as Alderaan's, maybe better. And she does have a human doctor."
"Oh no,Artoo!" Threepio groaned. "Our poor Mistress!"
* * *
Several lighters beyond, Bail Organa's decimated fleet had been pushed back to the outskirts of the Alderaan system. The enemy massed for it's final assault on the remains of the Old Republic.
"It's hopeless, sir," stated Organa's first officer, a young black man who looked far older than his twenty six years, seeing no way out for them." We die here."
"NO!" Organa replied through clenched teeth. "We need a shield."
"Shield?" The young man looked to the Admiral in confusion.
"Lorinth?" A navigator suggested.
"We can't, sir!" The first officer retorted, stunned. "There are over twelve thousand on that station, most of them civilians!"
"There are over five billion on Alderaan, Lieutenant. "Organa answered, gazing solemnly out the viewport." Our choice has been reduced to numbers. I want that station between this fleet and Alderaan."
* * *
Einar Antilles paced the lounge. He hadn't been so nervous since his own child was born. C3PO and his counterpart were standing at the wide, curved view-port where Antilles had strongly suggested they remain. Both droids were so absorbed by several flashes of light in distance that neither turned as the doctor entered the lounge.
"Quiet, Threepio!" The Corellian warned, turning back to the doctor. "Don't worry," The physician continued. "Lady Skywalker has had all the customary medication. I don't foresee any problems."
"I beg your pardon, Sir." Threepio butted in again," But I believe we do have a problem." By this time, the outline of the distant warships was clearly visible. Artoo began beeping frantically.
"What is it, Threepio?" Antilles practically shouted as the doctor returned to his duties. He joined the droids at the window.
"It's the war,Captain,"C3PO replied helpfully." I think it's here."
* * *
"Hey, Madine!" Two inebriated Corellians could be heard plainly even above the deafening noise in Lorinth's opulent bar. "What did ya name the kid?" Half the patrons broke out in derisive laughter.
"Laugh it up, you losers," The bearded Corellian sneered as he pushed his way past human and alien pilots from every corner of the galaxy. With a smug grin, Madine tossed a bulging money pouch before his friends." Give me a gravy run like that one anytime!"
Madine shook his head, grabbed the four-armed waitress and ordered a round of flameouts for everyone." Toman, you give Corelliansa bad name. The lady wanted to go to Tatooine and that's where I left her."
Bleary eyed and unconvinced, Dawes, the youngest of the three, rolled his eyes and sniggered. "Yep, he spaced her! NOBODY wants to go to Tatooine!" Even Madine had to laugh at that.
* * *
The hyperspace transit had taken hours, and the freighter's gauges indicated the Alderaan system was now only minutes away. Even through the closed cockpit doors, Kenobi could hear the pitiful cries of Besantilier's daughter. She needed to be fed and bonded to someone in these first hours of her life.
Poor little thing, he thought. He was doing the best he could; he could not provide for any of her physical or emotional needs, but Celis Organa would.
Carefully eyeing the readout systems of the still-unfamiliar starship, Obi-Wan eased the proper throttles and levers back. A quick jolt, and the freighter exited hyperspace just outside the Alderaan system. The yellow-white star glittered in the distance; it's largest inhabited planet a speck in the foreground. The instant he was within audio range, Kenobi contacted Celis.
At the end of a very long day surveying cities and towns destroyed by Tarkin's attack, Celis Organa was preparing to depart for Lorinth. She hoped she would arrive before Linaire's baby did.
Word of spacecraft approaching the station had not reached Alderaan when an urgent transmission was patched through to the port's executive terminal. There, an anxious Celis Organa was summoned to the comm console.
Still nearly an hour from planetfall, Obi-Wan's voice was hard to separate from the solar static. What was he saying? Something about Bes, then a word she heard clearly...dead.
"How...?"Celis muttered numbly. "Ben, the babies, not the babies..."
Kenobi didn't have time to spend on long explanations. All he wanted to do was leave Vader's child in a safe place and continue on his way.
"No, Celis." The tension in his voice was easy to discern and so unlike the Jedi that Celis prepared for the worst." Besantilier's daughter survived. Will you take her? There is no one else.■ Celis could barely believe her ears. A baby, to raise as her own? Joy she had only dreamed of welled up in her, but an aide interrupted the former queen before she could reply. Kenobi could not make out the muffled conversation; he tapped at his headset, thinking it was interference. Then, Celis' strained voice came through loudly.
"General? Obi-Wan, please...you cannot land. I've just received a report that the Lorinth space station is about to come under attack."
"Celis," Came Kenobi's clipped reply. 'What little good I can do there will have to wait. The safety of this baby is paramount now. Vader and Skywalker are dead. My ETA is 55.7 minutes. Do I have clearance to land?"
"No!" Celis' conscience spoke louder than her heart. "You don't understand. Linaire Skywalker is in labor in Lorinth's med-center!"
"Damnit!" Kenobi swore vehemently, the freighter shuddering violently as it veered sharply starboard. "Not this time!" He slammed a fist on the console. "Not this one."
* * *
Even kilometers out, Einar Antilles recognized a fleet in battle formation. There was no time to waste. If he didn't get Linaire to the Organa ship immediately, they would never make it off the station alive.
The two droids close on his heels. The Corellian captain burst into the obstetrics unit. The human doctor was nowhere in sight.. typical! Neither was Linaire. Antilles grabbed a spindly, human-shaped med droid, whirled it around to face him.
"Where is she?" he demanded. The droid's photoreceptors blinked as he gave it another shake. "Where is Lady Skywalker?"
"If you refer to the human female, sir," the droid responded efficiently. " She has been sedated. Your new little human should be extracted in a short time."
"He asked you for her location, you obsolete pile of circuitry!" Threepio sputtered.
"Tell us where she is!" Antilles demanded. The droid moved away cautiously, blocking a door panel. "We have to get her out of here-NOW!"
"That is quite impossible, sir." The droid's electronic voice was firm. "The female cannot be moved now."
With an outraged beep, Artoo launched his squat body at the med-droid's knees. Antilles stepped over the dismembered droid as Threepio patted his counterpart's domed head.
"Good work, Artoo!" Then he had to add, "You little delinquent."
Antilles soon reappeared carrying a semi-conscious Linaire. Already the first shots were being fired at the station. Klaxons and sirens echoed throughout the facility. They could hear people screaming and running. "Move!" The Corellian shouted. "Head for the hangar!"
* * *
As the first major blast hit the station, pandemonium erupted. Civilians scattered, screaming and trampling each other in their desperate attempts to escape. A dozen small fighters blasted off in response to the stations full-alert warning sirens. Automated defense systems trained the small cannons encircling the station's rim on the hostile spacecraft. In the bar, bloodcurdling Corellian warcries went up.
"Damnblast!" Heads turned from tables and counters. "DAMNBLAST!" Tomen repeated. The floor was rumbling, and the sound of compartment doors slamming shut suggested at least some voiding of the station's atmosphere. He, Dawes and Madine joined seven other Corellian pilots in the smoky corridor. "It sounds like the whole sockdolagin war is out there!"
"Those stinkin' star jockeys!" Dawes snarled. "Cold booze, a hot broad, and we get a couple of rusting hulks out for target practice!"
"How about," Madine grinned evilly," A little Corellian target practice?"
* * *
The freighter Justice swooped gracefully through dozens of outbound star ships, finding a landing spot in a now empty bay. Bail Organa observed the Jedi's arrival at the doomed station, but he was much too busy to worry about Kenobi. He had long before given up trying to understand the Jedi's actions.
Keeping dangerously close to the rotating space station could not go on forever; a fact made vividly apparent by a concussion missile that exploded on the station, taking Organa's largest frigate with it. The ship , and its two hundred man crew, disintegrated in a cloud of gas and fire. The battle intensified.
* * *
Before Kenobi could search for Linaire, he had to ensure the safety of Besantilier's daughter. At least as far as he was able.
Although the Jedi had been amazed at the performance of the unimpressive freighter, it was the discovery of several hidden compartments beneath her decking proved useful.
He dare not take the baby with him through the hazardous maze of Lorinth's corridors and decided, after activating the ship's formidable security system, to place the infant in a well-padded bin before leaving the ship.
Trusting the Force to guide him to Skywalker's widow, Obi-Wan pushed his way through hysterical crowds. Powerful blasts tilted the corridor, knocking frenzied humans and aliens to the floor. Obi-Wan fell to his knees, struggled to stand. All was noise, terror and acrid smoke. He couldn't imagine a more horrific scene until the blast doors at the corridor's far end slammed shut. To his left, a narrow door leading to a narrow sub-hallway sealed automatically.
The screams of those trapped soon ended with a rush of escaping air. Only one route toward the station's main level was open to Kenobi now. He pushed against the advancing mob to his right, trying to reach the dark corridor that would take him to the station's main shaft.
A mere two corridors away, Einar Antilles carried Linaire Skywalker toward the VIP hangar and the waiting Alderaanian cruiser; praying all the while that the bay would not be hit before they reached it. The two terrified droids stuck close to the Corellian captain as successive blasts rocked the station.
Kenobi gained ground by inches, the sea of desperate faces passing him in a blur. A few more minutes...a few more...
Einar Antilles saw the VIP hangar bay a mere thirty meters away. The cruiser, it's engines humming, was visible through the smoke an steam. A miracle.
"Contact the ship, Threepio," Antilles shouted. "Tell'em to prepare the infirmary!" Threepio did as he was told; the shaky voice of an officer urged them to hurry. The hangar shields were down.
* * *
Organa's fleet was not protected behind the station for long. The battle ships kept up heavy fire as picket ships moved in for the kill. Organa began ordering his transports to flee toward Alderaan as Tarkin's dreadnaughts decimated Lorinth.
* * *
Antilles forced his aching legs to go faster as Linaire groaned in his arms. Another mighty explosion shook the hallway, forcing the Corellian to rely on the droids for support, lest he and Lady Skywalker fall to the floor. It would not be long before she gave birth-getting to the cruiser was their only hope.
That hope went up in flames when a well-aimed torpedo slammed into the VIP hangar. Antilles stumbled behind a protruding bulkhead as the debris filled shockwave hurtled past.
* * *
Obi-Wan Kenobi emerged from an access corridor in time to see the explosion and the little group struggling against the escaping atmosphere. Before it moved, Obi-Wan sensed the door behind about to seal the access corridor. He ignited his lightsaber and fused the controls permanently.
"ANTILLES!" He screamed. "This way man! Hurry!"
"Captain!" See Threepio's sensitive audio pickup heard the unfamiliar voice and pointed to the stranger in long robes running toward them." Someone is here to help! Oh-we're saved! We're saved!"
* * *
"By the core, sir, look!" The young Lieutenant pointed out of the command cruiser's window. Several private spacecraft had joined the uneven battle, handily taking on the bulky cruisers advancing on Organa's fleet. The newcomers flew like madmen, flinging their ships between the space station and its attackers.
"Corellians!■ Organa could only identify the markings on a few of the ships, but the style and skill of the pilots was unmistakable.
"We have an incoming transmission, Admiral." The comm controller put the bridge's p.a. system on.
"Hey, got a little trouble out here?" Rison Madine banked his unmarked freighter toward what had to be the 'good guys'. Easy enough to tell...they were the ones getting their choobies fried. "Is this a private party or can anyone join the fun?"
"Feel free, Captain." Organa replied gratefully. "Can you cover our transport's retreat to Alderaan?"
"You got it, pops," Madine grinned as his laser cannons raked one of the picket ships. "Looks like about eight of them to one of us. We can cover you all the way to the Fire Rings of Fornax if that's where you want to go!"
* * *
It hadn't been easy, but Obi-Wan Kenobi had finally led the weary group back to the Justice . The hangar was undamaged and deserted, but a sensation of danger crept over the Jedi. He stopped in the doorway, putting out a restraining arm to stop Antilles and the droids.
"Something's wrong," he whispered. "Wait here."
Making no sound, he approached his ship. Two men in security officer's uniforms were using fusioncutters on the freighter's hatch. "Those won't work, gentlemen." Kenobi said, approaching them casually.
"Then you open it!" One of the men snapped, turning toward him with a blaster, "Or we'll kill you and open it ourselves, old man."
Obi-Wan was now beneath the ship. Antilles could not hear what was being said, but it didn't look good.
"What is he doing?" Threepio whined as his counterpart wobbled in agitation. "Trust him, you said...he's a Jedi, you said. We're doomed!"
With profound calm, Obi-Wan bent to examine the ship's hatch. "Actually, it's General." He responded coldly.
Faster than the eye could follow, the Jedi's lightsaber was arcing through the air, cutting down the two men. He turned, fastening the weapon to his belt and waved to Antilles and the two droids as the boarding ramp lowered.
He entered the freighter followed by the Corellian carrying Linaire and the droids, who barely glanced at the two lifeless humans.
'You see, Artoo, you little coward!" Threepio observed." I told you this Jedi person would handle things!"
The little astrodroid let out a series of animated beeps and whistles.
"No, you addled piece of machinery." His companion muttered. "I do not find this exciting!"