En route to an undisclosed location in the Unknown Regions,
Xol has made a pact with the Neimodian crime lord Mok Sur Tinn and the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Maul aboard his ship. This agreement required both parties to bring their comrades in arms to a hyperspace waypoint at which time they would be brought aboard and made a part of Xol’s personal rebellion. Both ships have docked and transferred their passengers and cargo over the Wayfarer transport, abandoning the ships they arrived on.
The Millennium Falcon piloted by smuggler Han Solo waits patiently as they complete this operation.
Now in the docking hangar of Xol’s ship, the Yautja has gathered the crew to join in a meeting that will assess the newcomers aboard the vessels. The Force tells Xol that there is much tension in the air. A fear of the unknown that could unravel his plans before they even begin…
The cargo bay is packed with shipping containers and dozens of people, so many in fact some have had to resort to sitting atop the large boxes around them just so they can all congregate in one place. Low muttering between individuals fills the air with a bevy of sounds echoing off of the bulkheads around them.
Xol steps into the center of the gathering accompanied by Darth Maul, Mok Sur Tinn and Dex. He raises his hand calling a hush to those around him.
“Those whom have gathered here,” the Yautja begins. “You have not been lured here nor are you prisoners or slaves. You and your masters that stand beside me are now a part of something much bigger than yourselves. Together we shall embark on a journey that will see the end of the Galactic Empire. An end that will not come by some Rebel Alliance or through the actions of the Jedi, it will be because of us and on our terms.”
“Why should we believe the words of a Jedi?” a voice asks from the crowd.
“I am neither Jedi or Sith,” Xol replies firmly. “Yes, the Force has guided me down this path but I do not serve some dogmatic religious agenda. This is an uprising by those who choose to truly reshape the galaxy, not in the interest of restoring some ancient republic or further the ends of its imperial bastard child. This is about giving choice back to the galaxy, a true sense of freedom.”
“Do you think that this small band you have brought here can complete such a task?” Another voice inquires.
“Yes I do,” the Yautja answers with assurance in his voice. “If we gathered a large force such as the Rebels have in the past, Lord Starkiller would bring the fleet to bear right on top of us. The Empire is a strong but wounded predator much greater than us. In order to defeat such prey we will become like a pack of hunters, individually non-threatening but, together capable of inflicting terrible wounds that will bring our quarry to its knees. With its final breath we will form a new galaxy. One where the likes of those gathered here can flourish in the peace that we bring.”
“This sounds promising Jedi, but what assurances do we have?” the same voice utters.
“None,” Xol replies bluntly. “This is not a smuggling run where you are paid upon arrival. This is an incredible gamble, and I am sure Maul and Mok agree with me when I say that if you are not up to the task then you can disembark as soon as we reach the final destination of this journey. This is not a sign of weakness, but merely you exercising your freedom. For those who stay, there will be a strict chain of command to ensure our success in this great mission. Each one of you will be assigned duties and will report to Darth Maul, Mok Sur Tinn, General Kamino or myself. You will all be compensated with room, board, and when our mission goes well, perhaps a little extra.”
“And what do we call you ex-Jedi? Or is that title suitable enough?” the voice in the crowd shouts.
“You may call me by my name, Xol. Should anyone refer to me as a Jedi from this moment onward, they will be thrown out the nearest open hatch into space, is that understood?”
The quiet in the docking bay is answer enough for the Yautja as he pauses to collect his thoughts.
“You all have exactly eight hours left before we reach the end of this part of the journey, and then the real adventure begins. In the meantime you are all confined to this cargo hold as this ship’s other areas cannot accommodate your numbers. At this time your leaders and I will retire to private quarters to discuss our next moves. For those who intend to join us, welcome to our revolution.”
The motley crowd breaks off into their respective cliques as Xol and the leadership move toward the exit of the cargo bay. As they enter the hall, the noise and turmoil of the hold, dissipates behind them. The group of newly appointed leaders seats themselves at the large dining table in the common area, while Dex continues onward down the hall toward the cockpit while Darth Maul and Mok Sur Tinn settle into their chairs, Xol begins to address them.
“Gentlemen, I owe the both of you a more in depth explanation about where we are going and what we are facing ahead. Firstly, we are indeed travelling to the area of the galaxy known to you as the Unknown Regions. There, we will find a functional, relatively unmanned ship capable of accommodating a great deal more crew than we have aboard this transport right now. From there we will begin our assault on the Empire. We will require more recruits though, and that is where the two of you come in. You have connections within various non-imperial organizations that also have nothing to do with the rebellion. From these groups we can build up our numbers without rousing suspicion.”
“Actually Master Xol,” Mok raises his hand in interjection. “It will take me a few days but I can have the vessel fully crewed except for command staff, and best of all they won’t require pay!”
“I know it might be your practice Neimodian, but I will not employ slavery. That would be a contradiction to our objective of bringing freedom.”
“No need to worry General, the solution I have is in the form of droids. I have a supplier on Mechis III that I can call upon.”
“And you are sure that this contact can be trusted?” Xol asks.
“Absolutely,” Mok assures. “We go way back, he and I. We served together in the Confederacy.”
“Very well Tinn, we shall make the appropriate arrangements upon arriving at the vessel. Also, should you fail there will be dire consequences.”
“Understood Xol,” the Neimodian replies with a quiver in his bottom lip.
“Those in my ranks are skilled in the ways of the Force but not much else really,” Darth Maul explains before he is called upon. “Their talents are in battle, not so much in space.”
“Do not worry Lord Maul,” Xol says in consolation. “You and your group of force users will be of much use in the coming weeks. Now both of you, return to the cargo bay and bring your key people up to speed on the operation. I will summon you when we arrive at our end destin…”
The Yautja’s command is interrupted by a message from Dex over his helmet’s commlink. “Hey big guy, the Falcon and I have dropped out of lightspeed but you better get up here.”
“Please excuse me gentlemen,” the stately Yautja announces as he bows. “A pressing matter has arisen and I must cut this conversation short. Continue as we have discussed and I shall meet you in the hangar bay shortly.”
At a brisk pace, Xol walks down the corridor and opens the doorway into the cockpit. Even before he steps foot inside he can see clearly out the forward viewport. There floating in space amidst several large moon size asteroids is a Gladiator class Star Destroyer, the exact ship once belonging to Dark Lord Blades. Xol had only just been here not that long ago and yet, it seemed like he was stepping back in time. A small vessel is attached to its side, one that was not there the last time the Yautja was here. It is fixed in place with mooring clamps and a boarding walkway between it and the Star Destroyer.
“Looks like a GR-75 big guy,” Dex comments as he hears his friend enter the room. “No Rebellion markers though. It could be pirates.”
“Any chance it’s the Empire DX?” Xol asks, frustrated by the other ship’s presence.
“Out this far Xol there would be very little chance of that. Seems whoever it is, is making Captain Solo nervous. The Falcon’s engines are primed and he is preparing for hyperspace jump.”
“Connect me to his commlink immediately!” Xol demands.
With a flip of a toggle, the communication channel opens and Xol is prompted by Dex to speak.
“Captain Solo, cease your actions.” The Yautja commands. “Your engagement into lightspeed may draw unnecessary attention to us from the pirates or whoever they are.”
“Not my problem big fella,” Han snidely retorts. “Deal was for navigation and guidance to this point, not to fight off scavengers at the far edge of the galaxy.”
“Your ship has significant combat ability compared to my own. I am requesting your assistance in seizing the vessel below.”
“No can do your largeness, Chewie and I are blasting out of here back to civilized space.”
“I shall pay you handsomely for your assistance.”
“Well, I am pretty handsome so it had better be good or we’re gone, understood?”
“I will pay you an additional twenty-five percent on top of what you have already received and I will allow you a share of the spoils of whatever we find onboard their ship.”
“Make it thirty, the Falcon could use some love.”
Infuriated by Solo’s arrogance Xol replies, “You are a despicable scoundrel, and a true master of your trade, smuggler. Thirty percent is larceny but acceptable. I will contact you shortly with details of our next move.”
Reaching across the console, the Yautja’s clawed finger flips the toggle off and ceases the comlink with the Millennium Falcon. He turns to walk out of the cockpit, his fists tightly clenched in anger. Before he exits through the hatch, Xol looks back to Dex and says “Patch yourself and Solo into the docking bay comlink system, I will be announcing my plan shortly. Time is something of a commodity right now so I will need you to remain here and be ready to move on my order.”
“Just say the word ol’ buddy and I’ll take this rust bucket anywhere,” Dex responds with a salute.
Quickly making his way back to the cargo bay, Xol mulls over the details of his strategy in his head, his mind contemplating every action and reaction he can think of. He even stretches out with the Force to gain some insight on what the future may hold. Though no image comes to mind, a feeling washes over him like a cold wind. It is the same way he felt when Dark Lord Blades first brought him to this galaxy all those years ago. Choosing to not dwell on such a vague detail, Xol sets it aside for now and enters the hangar with fury in his step.
Staring at a sea of faces, most of them strange he begins to loudly speak overtop of their ongoing conversations seizing their attention.
“Allies, Brothers, Sisters,” he begins. “I had hoped that you may come to know me better before we embarked on our first mission together but the future of our crusade against the Empire is in jeopardy even before it has a chance to begin. There is a vessel just outside that was to become our command ship and now as we speak, raiders are pillaging it like scavengers to a carcass. We cannot allow this to happen, and we shall make them pay for what they have done.”
“Could we not negotiate with these raiders?” Qiin interrupts.
“My apprentice, the time for negotiation will not be now. These carrion crawling maggots may have already seized control of key systems including weapons. They will be neutralized first and then should any survive, we shall have a discussion.”
She nods in acceptance of Xol’s words and leans against a container, a look of reluctant defeat on her face.
“Now if I can have no further questions until afterwards,” the proud Yautja continues. “General Kamino, please increase our speed to full and proceed towards the port side docking bay on the larger vessel. When I give the signal you will release the holding clamps from this docking bay and proceed with the Falcon on a diversionary assault run on the enemy ship. Is this understood General?”
“Affirmative Master Xol, increasing thrust now.” Dex replies firmly.
With a shunt the ship begins to move rapidly towards the Gladiator class Star Destroyer, Dex grips the throttle tight becoming ever more nervous as the large grey hulk grows ever closer. In the docking bay the passengers grab hold of anything that is fastened securely.
“Are you insane Xol?” Mok Sur Tinn frantically yells. “This section of your ship, detachable or not, isn’t a torpedo! We will all be killed by your cavalier risk taking!”
“Quiet your mind Neimodian, you shall live to see tomorrow,” Xol reassures.
Still scared, the frightened lanky humanoid runs for the exit hatch that leads to the rest of the ship. He presses the release and the door begins to slide open. Then, stopped by an unseen hand the door is slammed back into a closed position and the keypad put into a lockdown.
“I did not wish to use my powers to get you to stay Mok but you left me no choice,” the Yautja says with a smile beneath his helm. “Trust the Force, it will be our guide.”
With the Star Destroyer nearly upon him, Dex nervously looks to the console comlink speaker, desperately waiting for any order. Then, just as he is about to make a sharp deviation thus avoiding a collision he hears a relieving sound.
“Now Dex, now!” Xol shouts. “Proceed with your attack run once we’re clear.”
With a firm downward jerk of a stubborn release lever Dex disables the holding clamps for the cargo bay. His view a blur of gray as he sharply maneuvers to avoid a crash, the outer plating rattles as he narrowly grazes the hull of the large capital ship. With a sigh of relief he forms into an attack pattern alongside the Millennium Falcon.
In the now detached compartment, the forward momentum from the Wayfarer’s speed keep the container moving on a collision course. For the most part the crew inside are curled up the floor bracing for a violent impact they fear will come soon.
“Qiin, Maul, try to aid me in this final step,” Xol announces to his comrades as he stretches out his hands in front of him and closes his eyes. “Only our combined abilities will make it successful.”
Reaching out with the Force, the Yautja steers his derelict hangar bay towards the Star Destroyer’s dock. Maul and Qiin’s focus waivers but they too are able to stabilize and slow the runaway compartment. Xol uses all of his own ability to slow it down so much that the trio can set it down gently inside the dock. With a screech, the cargo container of the Wayfarer slams into the hard metal floor of the hangar, its speed too great to truly bring it down gently but it is enough to only rattle the contents and passengers inside. With the final squeal of metal rubbing against metal, the compartment grinds to a halt. Its occupants cheer as they start to stand up and right surrounding objects.
“This is just the beginning, arm yourselves however you can and follow me.” Xol says with intense furor. “We must first secure the hangar bay area. From here we can go throughout the ship.”
The armoured Yautja followed by Qiin, Booma and Wompit open the forward hatch manually and lower the gangway. The motley assemblage of fighters behind them follow as they rush down the ramp leading into the hangar. Their heavy footsteps echo in the near empty hangar as they run across its floor, stopping to take cover behind small fighters and shipping crates that are spaced randomly throughout the bay.
The powerful crack of slugthrower fire erupts from the far side of the hangar, its kinetic rounds sparking as they collide with the bulkhead. Each shot misses by such a large margin that this act seems purposeful.
A voice rings out in a language that Xol cannot understand. His helmet’s integrated translator takes a moment to decipher and configure for the new language. It is Rodese, the language of the green skinned Rodians.
“…our rights,” the mysterious Rodian says as Xol’s helmet configures. “I repeat trespassers; this abandoned ship belongs to us. The rights to salvage are ours alone. Leave or you will be killed and left to float in space with the rest of the garbage.”
As the reptilian finishes, a large concussive force from an explosion can be felt through the bulkhead. A few moments later, a comlink channel opens inside of Xol’s helmet.
“Xol, the enemy ship is neutralized,” Dex reports over the link. “It had minimal shielding so we blew out their engines no problem, however there were no life signs aboard. Whoever owns this thing is already onboard.”
“I know DX,” Xol snaps. “We are currently pinned down in the hangar bay by that ship’s owners. Rodians I believe, salvagers or pirates, I am not sure which. You and Captain Solo get here as soon as you can. Once they find out their ship is useless, they will do everything they can to take this one.”
“Got it. On my way big guy.” Dex says in response before ending communication.
Taking refuge behind a small craft, Xol attempts through his helmet’s sensors to locate his attackers. He can hear their movements. Nearly a dozen sets of boots moving so quietly along the outer edges of the hangar that only his amplified hearing can detect them. His heat vision reveals how dire their situation is. From their slightly raised positions around the perimeter of the landing platform, even with their inferior numbers the Rodians could execute twice their number before the Yautja and his crew overruns them.
Desperate, he motions for the others near him to stay where they are then stands up, making himself visible to the attackers. He unsheathes his lightsabers and turns on the blades. No sooner does the red glow of their blades shine against his armour then is Xol shot at from all sides. Slugs are destroyed as they collide with the scorching hot weapons but they do nothing to deflect or parry the blasts. A projectile slips past and wings him in the shoulder plate and another bullet crashes against his back piece. The damage is not severe but it is enough power that continued shots would penetrate before he could reach one of the Rodians. Returning to cover, Xol retracts his blades and reevaluates the situation.
“Boss’n Xol,” Booma whispers from behind a nearby crate. “Weesan can be stompin’ deez goober faces, no givin’ up time.”
“He’s right master,” Qiin agrees. “They are outnumbered, we have superior skills they do not possess, and we can succeed.”
“My apprentice,” Xol replies. “I agree with you and the Gungan but, we must formulate a plan that would minimize losses on our side. We cannot afford to lose so many crewmembers when there is many needed now. I have an idea, where’s Wompit?”
“Master big guy, Wompit here.” The large brute utters without remaining quiet as the rest.
“Curl up very tight my Savrip friend,” Xol answers back. “It’s time to bring the fight to them.”
Wompit does as his Yautja commander asks and balls himself up very tight. Using the Force Xol pitches the hardened Mantellian towards a group of Rodians. Caught off guard by the sight of a flying creature the likes of Wompit, the attackers draw their guns and fire. In their panic they fail to land a shot as the Savrip lands in amongst them and unfolds himself from his protective posture.
“Greenskin try to kill big guy!” Wompit roars in anger. “They try hurt Wompit. No more hurt from greenskin!”
With unrelenting aggression, the Mantellian Savrip lashes out in all directions, sending bewildered, frail Rodians flying this way and that, their Rodese curses and yells bouncing off the bulkheads as they sail through the air.
“All wielders of the Force to me,” Xol orders as he once again draws his weapons. “We shall take the center, the rest of you converge on the left and watch out for their fire!”
From their covered positions, the crew of misfits the Yautja has brought together, coordinate like a unit and move rapidly towards the Rodian positions. Xol through his abilities runs at great speed and leaps into air high enough to land on the higher platform in front of the enemy. Darth Maul, Qiin and a few others follow suit, their lightsabers ablaze as they fly through the air. The Rodians falter in front of them and fumble with their weapons allowing Xol to cut a few down, slicing up through their weapons and then down into the assailant holding it. The sound of slugthrower fire is nearly drowned out by the whirring hum of lightsabers in combat, their brilliant blades streaking as they cut through the air and into the Rodian attackers.
Shots from the explosive rifles still ring out and collide with Xol and the others. Some are wounded so badly that they fall to the ground, letting out only a small cry of pain as they fall, blood pooling where they lay.
Angered, Xol lashes out with lightning. It’s vibrant, deadly arcs ripping through the Rodians with ease; scorched reptilian carcasses remain where the attackers once stood. Slugs continue to pit his armour as they connect with such kinetic force that he is physically moved backward by the impact. As he moves toward the gunmen, he tries to avoid any incoming fire best he can but becomes frustrated by his saber’s lack of deflection capability against the static rounds coming toward him. With a roar, he casts his Jedi weapons aside and deploys his jagged wrist blades from his gauntlet. The mechanism strains from lack of use but the sight of them causes some of the Rodians to fall back out of fear. Using the Force to increase his speed his closes the gap between him and the riflemen within seconds, cutting into them with his razor sharp blades. With a Rodian skewered on each wrist blade, another moves in to stab him with a fixed vibro-bayonet, and as he grows close to Xol, the Yautja casts off the corpses, laughs and activates his shoulder cannon. The three ominous infrared dots leap onto the greenish attacker’s chest and before he is aware he has been targeted, Xol fires and blows a gaping hole right through him. The bayonet wielding marauder falls at the Yautja’s feet, and with a proud roar, he searches for his next victim. Shots ring out as if to answer him, but not from a slug thrower, they come from a heavy blaster.
A doorway from behind an enemy position is being opened manually by Chewbacca while Han and Dex roll out discharging bolts of blaster fire with flair into the unsuspecting Rodians. Once the powerful Wookiee Chewbacca emerges from the doorway, he draws his bowcaster from his back and fires a full spread, roaring ferociously with each shot. Solo’s flamboyant pistol wielding, yields several kills in a row due to his pinpoint accuracy with the very unique weapon.
“Always willing to share DX,” Xol replies.
The playful conversation is cut short by the sound of an explosion near the left side of the hangar. Knowing that that is where Wompit was, Xol uses all his power to race to that area. As he lands near the site of the blast he rolls and pans around ensuring that no raiders lie in wait. What he sees instead is a terrible sight. As a desperate last attempt, one of the scavengers used a thermal detonator against Wompit; the blast killed the Rodian attacker and left the Savrip singed black and lying near death on the ground. As Xol comes closer, the Mantellian knowing his friend is close, tries to speak.
“Master big guy,” Wompit coughs. “Him have blaster ball on him. Hurting Wompit, no more hurting…”
The hulking creature rests his head against the ground and falls silent. Xol kneels besides him and takes off his helmet. The sounds of violence behind him grow quiet as he places his hand on the brute’s broad chest. He fights back the tears and sadness welling up inside of him. For all his power in the Force, he cannot heal those whom he cares about most. His sadness turns to urgency and hope as he feels the faint beat of a very large Savrip heart thump inside Wompit’s torso.
“I need a Medic!” he shouts. “We have wounded!”
TO BE CONTINUED…
interesting chapter, han salo sounds like han solo and surprise no starkiller in this chapter. from mto007
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