The Fett Dynasty II: Siege of Orri Prime
The Siege, Part 2
I’Lai pulled at the wide brim of her sunhat, shielding the noon rays from her eyes as she took in a slow, deliberate breath. Eschewing the usual loose fitting yet elegant gowns she normally wore around the palace, she had changed into a waist-length wraparound crimson tunic and tan trousers that were tucked into soft, knee-hi suede boots. It was a mild day, with a soft breeze blowing down from the mountains, bringing drier, cooler air into the valley of her vast estate as well as the fragrance of the wildly blooming mountain flowers.
*Nikoa was right to suggest this*, she thought, *I needed some sun and fresh air. Perhaps this will calm my nerves a…*
…*
But she found her thoughts trickling back to the holo-conversation earlier that morning with Luke, and she found her ire rg agg again. *Maybe I should come there, he says. For what?* Involuntarily, she clenched her fist. *I swear, he treats me like some fragile, incompetent child! When are we going to further my training? I’m growing tired of levitating vases in the air! And when am I going to heal a real injury? He knows I can do more! I’m beginning to think he is jealous of me! I’ve already proven I can do things he can’t, haven’t I? Maybe I am stronger than Luke Skywalker…Maybe he is holding me back!*
*And now Leia is pregnant?* A bitter, sardonic smirk marred her lip. *Why doesn’t that surprise me? She certainly wasted no time, did she? No, we certainly can’t have a lowly concubine steal our glory, can we, Princess? I heard her voice on the comlink after the battle of Endor; I heard how peevish she sounded when Han was talking to me! She’s jealous of me too! Jealous of my stature, my looks, my power…*Something very deep and very dark stirred within her as she trailed a fingertip slowly, almost seductively from her chin down her throat…Han wanted me first, I could tell by the way he looked at me all those years ago…if things had been different, if I hadn’t been so foolishly, blindly loyal to my dead master…I would have graced that handsome pirate’s bed…and given him pleasure that he had never known before…*
She abruptly shut the thought down with a shocked gasp, and rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand. “By Force,” she whispered raggedly, “how could I think such things…”
Her eyes snapped up when little Kai bellowed a happy baby yelp. Giving her a wide toothless grin, he reached toward her with both chubby arms “GAH!” he shrieked.
I’Lai smiled, thankful for the interruption. “What is it, sweet pea? Do you want something?” Her smile faded as she looked at her son, wearing his own floppy little sunhat, sitting up on the corner of the blanket. Kai had learned to sit up on his own. And Boba had missed it. *What else will he miss? His first steps? His first word? Is this the way it’s going to be for the rest of Kai’s life? For the rest of mine…? Gods, where is he?! Why won’t he tell me?! Why won’t he trust me?!*
She dropped her head down into her balled fists as she fought against the rage building up inside her once again. No, stop it, stop it, I’Lai! This is not the time…play with Kai…
She glanced around the blanket, ing ing up a little stuffed Ewok toy laying beside their picnic basket and showing it to Kai. “Do you want this, honey?” she sang-songed, dancing the toy back and forth in the air.
“BRAH!” Kai yelped again, holding forth his arms…
The toy Ewok suddenly became airborne, jumping out of I’Lai’s hand and arcing lightly through the air right into the tiny hands of the giggling baby boy.
I’Lai’s jaw dropped as she attempted to compute what had just happened. “Kai…” she stammered, “did you just…?” She instantly sprang to her feet and scooped Kai up, holding him above her head as she spun around. “Kai, you used the Force! You used the Force…” Her laughter began bright and musical, but soon escalated into peals of glee laced with the disturbing tinkle ofnessness…
“You are powerful, aren’t you, my son?” she whispered breathlessly, boring her eyes into his of the same hue. Kai suckled on the cloth hood of the Ewok toy, but stared over the toy into his mr’s r’s eyes with the same intensity. I’Lai fell to her knees and carefully sank onto her back, cradling Kai to her breast. She stared into the cloudless azure sky. “We don’t need them, do we, Kai? We don’t need any of them…” She lifted Kai off her chest, holding him in front of her eyes. “Just you and me, right?” She lowered him back to her chest, stroking his little head, her eyes rolling back into her head, repeating herself over and over in a low, breathy mantra, “Just our power alone…just us…just all of us…”
………………
*Yes, beloved…all of us…*
His entire body shook with the sheer intensity of the power he pulled into himself. A thin sheen of swelistlistened over his tattooed skin. Even after the decades of practice, the shielding, the energy manipulation, the astral projection, and all the other aspects of his dark craft caused him to quake…
Naked and kneeling on the jutting platform of the black, bottomless cavern, he clasped his hands above his horned head, setting the vision in his mind’s eye and rasping the words, over and over…
“Sei’ta eussna tiaama di ne…Kun eussna tiaama uta’na i’lai…naashaa…naashaa…”
The vision of his Sith Infiltrator sharpened clearly in his mind. He shook and trembled even more violently as he ignited the engines with the brutal force of his will. He watched it lift from its bay, the repulsor exhaust blowing the black sand around it into vicious funnels.
*Bring them to me.*
The ship rotated in the air, its spherical nose ascending toward the blood red sky. The engines glowed from iced blue into crisp scarlet…
He snapped his body up and threw his fists down, a low, masculine scream bursting from his throat—
And the ship ripped into the red sky, exploding out of the stratosphere and immediately jumping into hyperspace toward its destination, Orri Prime.
He fell back onto the cold stone slab, his painted chest heaving with every hard-fought breath. He closed his eyes, and prepared to ess ess the pageant unfold, now that the players were all in place…
* * *
“Sir,” announced Captain Rhys from the bridge’s navigational console, “we are coming out of atmosphere.”
“Give order,” Admiral Pellaeon ordered, still focused on the viewscreen.
Rhys nodded, and repeated the order through the comlink.
That order, words and voice disintegrated into nothing more than electronic signals, crackled and danced through the ions of the Imprimatur to settle directly into the earpiece of an adrenaline and ryll-hyped Bothan.
“WE GOT THE SIGNAL!” Jober roared from his pilot’s seat.
Czethros slammed his fist into the arm of his captain’s chair. “Let’s start this party, boys! MOVE OUT!”
The explosion from the Dama Fortuna’s thrusters as she shrieked out of the Imprimatur’s ventral bay could only be rivaled by the uproarious fervor of Czethros’s three-dozen mercenaries onboard. With armor on their backs, blasters in their grips and ryll in their blood, the nefarious crew of aliens and humans whet their anticipation for conquest by hurling each other into the bulkhead within the hold, cracking their skulls together in bouts of head-butting, howling like beasts descending on a fresh kill, and passing around loaded hypos of ryll. The friction of the gaseoumospmosphere crackled around the hull as they hurled out into black space…
“Will you all shut the fuck up!” Czethros barked. “Gods, a man can’t hear himself k…” k…”
“We’re coming up on coordinates, sir,” Jober informed.
“Kill engines, and put out signal.” Czethros, dressed in his custom-tailored black leather flak suit, motioned to Trodeccu the one-eyed Wookiee to come closer. “Go get Thutchen.”
Trodeccu’s lips curled in a malicious smirk as he bowed his charcoal-hued head and lumbered through the ongoing chaos toward the storage bin where Burl Thutchen was being kept.
………………
“Green Five to Green Leader, do you copy?”
The X-wing pilot known as Green Leader hit his com. “Copy, Green Five. What is it?”
“Sir, I’m getting a distress signal! Seems to be coming just shy of the Orri Omega gravitational pull.”
Green Leader knit his brow. “Sensors picking up anything?”
“Negative, sir. The atmosphere may be interring with the readings. Permission to check it out?”
“Permission granted. Green Two, accompany Green Five and report.”
“Right-O, sir, “ Green Two chattered her acknowledgement, veering her X-wing in a graceful arc to follow her fellow pilot toward the hulking gas giant known as Orri Omega and leaving the other three X-wings now orbiting Orri Prime…
………………..
“Friend Thutchen! Glad to have you back with us!” Czethros bellowed heartily as Trodeccu pushed a very bleary-eyed Burl through the armor-geared crew of mercs onto the bridge.
Squinting, Burl raised a hand to his head still throbbing from the after-effects of the powerful sedative he’d been given. “Where… where are we?” he mumbled.
Czethros rose from his chair and stepped onto the floor. “We’re bringing you home, son! Just as I promised.” As he stepped toward the groggy miner, he placed a leather-gloved hand upon his shoulder, and sighed insincerely. “Alas, as much as I have enjoyed your company these past few weeks, it is time for us to part ways. I certainly hope you have enjoyed yourself but, as they say, all good things must come to an end…”
Burl’s vision cleared enough for him to notice the armor everyone was wearing, and the blasters, autocannons, and other various weaponry strapped to their arms, backs, and thighs. A feeling of sick began to rise in his gullet as the realization began to take hold of his mind… “No…NO!” Pushing Czethros’s hand away, he stumbled toward the viewport. There, slightly off the arced curve of the red-hued gas giant known as Orri Omega, he saw Orri Prime glimmering tranquilly off in the black distance.
He spun around, mouth agape, limbs shaking, and hands clenching into fists. “NO!” he shouted hoarsely at Czethros. “You promised! You said you wouldn’t hurt her! You said if I told you everything I knew about Boba Fett, you wouldn’t hurt Lady I’Lai!”
A dubious sneer formed from under Czethros’s bionic visor, and his voice practically bubbled with incredulous laughter when he replied, “I lied, Burl.” The menacing guffaws of the killers surrounding him joined in his growing laughter.
The illness that had started to turn Burl’s stomach was replaced by nothing less than raw rage. His fear slipped away, and every muscle in his bulking body ignited—and with the speed of a man half his size, Burl suddenly lurched forward and, before any of the mercs could stop him, grabbed Czethros by his throat and thrust him off the floor, screaming, “You won’t touch her! I’lll yll you, you son of a whore! You leave them alone! LEAVE THEM ALONE!”
Dangling in the air and choking for breath, Czethros grabbed at Burl’s meaty hands, furiously kicking at the miner’s legs and belly. In his rage, Burl felt none of the kicks as his hands squeezed even tighter around Czethros’s throat—
Nor did he hear Splitter the Snivvian race up behind him. Launching himself from the deck, the small alien landed on Burl’s back, grabbing a handful of his hair and, with a bone-numbing screech, drove the tip of his vibro-blade deep into Burl’s throat and sliced it across.
Blood spewed out of the wound and down Burl’s throat. He fought to maintain his grip on Czethros, but to no avail. Gurgling and fighting to breathe, Burl released his death grip and sank to his knees, bringing a hand to his neck. Czethros stumbled back, catching himself on his chair and gulping in mouthfuls of precious air. Sinking even further toward the deck, Burl bowed his head as the tears sprang from his eyes. “Oh gods, what have I done…” he sobbed quietly between hacking coughs strewn with blood and spittle. His head spinning, blood cascading down his shirt… “I’m so sorry, Lady…”
Having regained his breath, Czethros gritted his teeth, lunged forward, and mercilessly kicked Burl in the face. Burl careened onto his back and landed with a THUD, the tears still streaming from his eyes as he felt his life ebb away.
In rage, Czethros’s spun around toward Trodeccu. “Get this piece of shit off my ship! SPACE HIM!”
Ca’ckalo the Aqualish sprang out of the co-pilot’s chair to grab Burl’s arm while Trodeccu grabbed the other. Roughly, they pulled the near-dead miner through the ship to the hold, where they opened an airlock, hurled him into it, closed the hatch, and pulled the release lever.
…………..
Pellaeon watched the X-wings grab the bait. Snapping his head toward his captain, he barked, “Launch destructor drones now!”
“Yes sir!” Rhys barked into the com, “Launch destructor drones!”
From out of the miniscule silos punched into the hull of the ship spewed dozens of tiny, black, oval-shaped droids measuring less than a meter apiece. Hurling directionless at first, they suddenly all sparked their tiny engines at once and began to pair up in the blackness of space—the pairs then shot forward toward Orri Prime’s stratosphere…
…………….
As the two X-wings flew closer to Orri Omega, Green Two checked her sensors. “Green Five, I’m picking something up here…this is weird…it’s coming up bio-organic.”
“What? Lock on it, and get in closer, Green Two. See anything?”
Green Two switched her attention from the sensor screen to her viewport, squinting slightly. “Yeah, I see something…getting in closer…” The pale speck floating in the blackness before her grew larger and identifiable in her window, and her eyes widened in horror as she hit the com again. “Green Five, it’s a BODY! Human, male!”
“Green Two, attempt to retrieve! I’m coming up on the ship, opening hailing frequency…”
…………..
Czethros leaned against the back of Jober’s pilot seat, intensely watching the lone X-wing draw near. Jober watched as well, his grip shaking just slightly in anticipation as he clutched the cannon control…
Green Five’s voice crackled over the com. “Vessel, this is Lieutenant Crill of Orri Prime Planetary Security. Are you in need of assistance? Respond.”
“That’s it,” Czethros whispered, “just a little closer…”
“I repeat, this is Lieutenant Crill of Orri Prime. Do you need assistance…?”
The blip representing the X-wing on the targeting sensor drifted into firing range—
“Jober, NOW!”
Jober’s itchy trigger digit finally found relief. With a sharp pull of the trigger, the Dama Fortuna’s two belly-mounted cannons hummed and whirred and launched two proton torpedoes. Green Five never had a chance to respond before the first torpedo ripped through the nose section while the second blasted through the engines.
The resplendent explosion flared through Green Two’s portside view. “CRILL!” she screamed, banking her X-wing hard rad racing toward what was left of her comrade. She slammed the com in her helmet with her palm. “Green Leader! We are under attack! Crill’s been taken out—“
“Copy, Green Two! We’re on our way!” Green Leader’s voice crackled through the com just as Green Two came upon the Dama Fortuna’s starboard side…
“TAKE HER OUT!” Czethros ordered.
Upon hearing the command from his seat in the top-mounted gunner, Splitter ran his dark tongue across his broad fangs and hit the trigger—
And the red laser hit directly under the X-wing’s pilot’s seat, exploding the craft into jagged chunks of metal, plasteel, and cables.
A malicious cheer broke throughout the vessel as Czethros plopped himself into his chair. “Jober, take her in!”
Jober hit the thrusters, and the Dama Fortuna broke forward at full sub-light speed toward the three X-wings hurling toward them…
………………
The Imprimatur’s navigator spun his chair to face Admiral Pellaeon. “Sir, we’ve cleared atmosphere!”
Simultaneously, Captain Rhys announced, “The Dama Fortuna has engaged, sir! Two direct hits! Remaining X-wings en route!”
Pellaeon stepped off the viewport dais and strode toward Rhys at the command console. “Take us into Orri Prime orbit! Launch first wave TIES now!”
“Yes, sir!”
As Rhys repeated his order to the launch bays, Pellaeon turned his attention to the tactical officers guiding the destructor drones. “Lock drones on targets and engage beams!”
………………
“It’s coming at us, sir!” Green Four shouted through the com. “Correllian D-6, modified, top and bottom mounts!”
“Four, keep ‘em in your field! Three, get around their bow and target engines! I got ‘em from the front—“
“Kiernan!” shrieked Green Three through the com, “Starboard side, Imperial TIES coming straight at us!”
And thus the first squadron of TIE fighters, scores of them, sleek and deadly and all too familiar to any Alliance X-wing pilot, spewed forth from out of the Imprimatur, careening around Orri Theta’s second moon. They sliced like blades of vengeance through the black void, some spiraling toward the sphere of Orri Prime while thirty more surrounded and descended upon the three hapless X-wings…
“SITH!” exclaimed Green Leader, “It’s a trap!”
He pulled up hard on his ship’s controls, arcing the nose straight up as he hit the thrusters with his foot and the com with his other hand. “Green Five, Green Two, move out, move out! Don’t take them on!”
“Kier, there’s too many—I can’t—AAAGGGHHH!”
The crisp silhouettes of the oncoming TIE fighters flashed briefly against the explosion of Green Three’s X-wing that flashed into Green Leader’s rear view.
Green Leader banked the throttle down hard as the TIES’ lasers sparked all across his viewport, only to find four more TIE fighters coming in directly below him. He was done for. “Green Leader to Ground Control! Green Leader to Ground Control! We are under attack! We are under —“
Green Leader’s last signal crackled through black space just as his X-wing disintegrated under the barrage of Imperial fire, making its way to the com satellite that would alert Ground Control…
That signal, like Green Leader himself, was doomed.
The first pair of sleek destructor drones came up upon the satellite, they widening the space between them, allowing enough room for the satellite to slide in. Even before they had reached their mark, an concentrated ray of white-hot yellow energy shot from each side of the drones and, as they made their pass on either side of the satellite, blew it with a brilliant white explosion into space junk.
All around the globe, the dozens of other pairs of destructor drones made their way to attack all the other surveillance and communication satellites that dotted Orri Prime’s orbit in the same manner…
………….
The words, “We are under—“ sparked through the speaker before they were zapped into nothing but static.
Ralan Stitz stepped out into the corridor from the break room, two steaming mugs of caf in his hands, just as Lando Calrissian came through the front entrance of The Southern Hem Security HQ.
“One of those better be for me,” Lando grumbled.
“But of course, Baron.” Stitz raised one of the mugs toward his commanding officer, trying unsuccessfully to squash the amused smirk spreading across his mouth upon seeing Lando’s swollen jowls and throat.
Irritably, Lando snatched the mug from his hand. “Don’t start, Stitz.”
Stitz raised his brin fin feigned innocence. “Sir?” With that, he could no longer hold his humor, and a snorting giggle escaped his nose.
Lando rolled his eyes and stomped down the hall toward the Con Center, with Stitz immediately flanking his left. “Status?”
“Nothing to report. All clear so far, sir.”
Lando turned into the Com Center’s door and strode toward the door of his office when he glanced up at the surveillance screens. “Are you aware that S-Three is out?” he muttered as he entered his door.
“It is?” Stitz walked toward the console and, just as he was about to adjust the satellite’s controls, another viewer suddenly sparked into static. He knit his brow. “S-12 just went out too.”
Lando was just about to seat himself when he stopped in mid-motion. Concerned, he came back around the desk, re-entering the Com Center. “What’s going on? Meteor shower?”
“I’ll check.” Stitz turned to the sensor screen “Sir, sensor’s not picking up anything,” he said, worried. Just at that moment, three more viewers zapped out.
“What the hell…?” Lando breathed, dread beginning to creep up his spine. “Get Green Leader on com.”
“Yes, sir.” Stitz jumped into his chair, sticking his earpiece in with one hand while hitting the com with the other. “Green Leader, this is Ground Control, do you copy?” He waited for a few seconds before repeating, “Green Leader, do you copy?” Still nothing. “Hello? Anyone…?”
Meanwhile, Lando furiously manipulated the controls of the remaining satellites, trying to get a clear view of the system’s activities. His eyes darted back and forth across the remaining screens, until his attention focused solely on one screen. There, he saw the trademark wing panel of a TIE fighter skim across the screen—
“GOS AND HELLS!” he shouted, “IMPERIALS!”
“But sir, that’s impossible! Green Squadron would have surely reported it—“
“And where’s Green Squadron now, Ralan? Have they answered your hails?” Lando ran a furious hand through his hair, and clenched his jaw. “They’re dead.” He shot his glance back up to the screen he had just viewed, only to see that one give out, too. “What the hell weapons are they using that they don’t show up on the sensors…?”
………….
“Coming up on the third moon now, Boss,” Jober barked.
“Jober, get in front of that satee bee before the drones take it out,” Czethros ordered, a mischievous smirk playing across his lips.
Jober grimaced. “Pellaeon’s not gonna like this, Boss—“
“FUCK PELLAEON” the Supreme Vigo roared. “Just do it!”
With a roll of his eyes Jober obeyed, cutting a path in front of the oncoming drones…
Czethros leapt from his chair as he bellowed, “FLY THE COLORS!”
Ca’ckalo punched the control on the console, and the holographic image shot out of the projector mounted just below the top gun, hitting the satellite’s cam directly in the lens…
……………
Pellaeon slammed his fist into the navigational console as he watched the Dama Fortuna on the viewscreen. “Gods dammit, what the hell does he think he’s doing! He’s just alerted their security forces! Now they know we’re here!” Realizing he was about to lose control, the Admiral straightened himself up and took in a deep breath. “Captain Rhys.”
Rhys snapped to attention beside him. “Sir!”
Tugging his jacket down by the hem, Pellaeon turned to his officer. “When Czethros has handed over the traitor Lady I’Lai,” he commanded with a sharp undertone of malice in his hushed tone, “you will bring him to my ready room…where I will have the distinct pleasure of executing him MYSELF.”
……………….
The hologram projected from the Dama Fortuna showed bright and clear in the one of the three remaining working viewscreens; a brilliant graphic displayed against the cold black of space, the hologram depicted a solid circle surrounded by another circle, barbed with points that reached out like the rays of a sun…
The color drained from Lando’s face as he glared at the hologram. “You sons of bitches,” he growled dangerously, his fist clenching tighter with every passing second. “You teamed up, didn’t you? You couldn’t do it alone, so you teamed up!”
Breathless and unnerved by Lando’s reaction, Stitz carefully asked, “Sir, what is it?”
“It’s not just the Empire, Ralan,” Lando replied, breathless. “It’s Black Sun.”
“Black Sun?!” Stitz repeated, aghast. “The crime syndicate?”
Leaning against his outstretched hands on the console, Lanowedowed his head and closed his eyes. Green Squadron was gone, undoubtedly blasted into oblivion by gods knew how many TIEs were up there. All their surveillance satellites were being destroyed by something that didn’t show up on their sensors. And now after seeing the Black Sun coat of arms, he was beginning to understand why those plasma generator parts had never shown up. He wiped the sweat forming off his upper lip. “Looks like we’re in for one hell of a fight. Stitz, sound the alarm! Battle stations! I’m calling Coruscant!”
“Yes sir!” Stitz hit the alarm switch with one hand while grabbing the large mic from the console. “All militia personnel, battle stations! Battle Stations! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill! All militia personnel…” he repeated over and over again.
………………
The call went out through the speakers of Southern Hem HQ and beyond. The cry to battle broadcast across the planet surface and into loud speakers in the public squares and into every comlink carried by all the volunteer mil acr across Orri Prime.
At first, a strange, eerie hush fell over the planet as every oldster paused their chess game, as every teacher halted their school lessons, as every miner stopped their drilling, and every shopkeeper and café worker stopped their work. The security squad commanders lowered their mugs of caf and turned away from the holonets. Almost in unison all across the globe, every head turned toward the nearest speaker that blared Stitz’s voice loud and firm…
“Battle stations! All militia personnel! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill—“
And, all at once, the entire populace broke out in pandemonium.
Stitz’s voice continued to blare instructions over the planet. “All personnel report immediately to your assigned posts! All gunners report immediately to on pon platforms! All pilots report to your local port! You will receive further instructions from your commanders upon arrival! All citizens unable to fight will immediately evacuate your homes and go into the underground shelters—“
The squad commanders all jumped from their seats and their bunks. Miners stopped their drilling and dropped their equipment, rushing the mineshafts and the lifts to pour out onto the surface by the hundreds. Mechanics in the ports and space docks rushed to fuel and repair any and all ships that could be used for combat as well as landspeeders to transport the militia to their posts. Schoolteachers hurriedly ushered all the pupils out of the classrooms and into specially designated shelters underground: The same was done for the elderly and disabled outside in the towns by the shopkeepers who had been specially trained for such a situation. People in their homes immediately scrambled to the arms cabinets and pulled out blasters and helmets for themselves and their spouses, their sons, their daughters…
Thousands of beings, alien and non, male and female, old and young, poured into hundreds of ore transports now being used to rush them to their posts. Still more transports raced through the streets of the townships, collecting weapons from the frantic citizens handing them out, to take them to their soldiers…
Yes, all on the surface of Orri Prime was preparing themselves for battle: Everyone, except those in I’Lai’s palace…
……………….
With her hands tucked in her voluminous sleeves, Nikoa greeted the passing guards, housekeepers, cooks, and other various palace staff with her familiar warm smile and friendly winks as she serenely traveled the white luminous corridors on her way to her quarters.
She chirped one last friendly hello to an appliance maintenance mechanic on his way to thlacelace kitchen before sliding into her chamber and closing the door. Once inside, she drew her hands from her sleeves. Raising her hand to her aged blackish-brown eyes, she smiled softly as she perused the small transistor she had just ripped out of the palace’s com system, playing with the wires that dangled from it with her fingertips…
……………….