Thread: Star Wars: A New Dawn (TheCorsair, Xanaphia)

Had a damn fine ship myself, once, Quentin grunted. But, at the end of the day, a ship is just a thing. Ships, weapons, possessions, all just things. Things that tie you down, anchor you. Keep you a prisoner. You have to learn to let go. He grinned, watching her with his gunmetal eyes. They aren't you, any more than your body is you. And you'll never realize that, while you cling to them. He pulled his hood up as he stepped out into the burning light of the twin suns. Also, on a practical level, if you don't learn to ket go the Stormtroopers will dance the jackboot stomp on you. He strode down the street, adopting an air of casual indifference. I'm nobidy special, his walk seemed to say, even as he gestured for the droids to join them. Within a block, however, he was frowning. Mara's questions were cutting too close to home. What would your mother have wanted for you? he repeated. Hm. Good question. It's not the right question, but it's a good one. She'd have wanted what any other mother would want for her daughter. A knot of Stirmtroopers emerged from a side road. He didn't break his casual amble, just walked past and acknowledged them with a little nod. They barely glanced at him, casually looked at the droids, then watched apprecuatively as Mara passed. See, I knew your mother for a long time. Far longer than Sidious ever did, I wager. I hunted her as Scarlett, and was there when she passed the Trials and was knighted. He paused, looking sidelong at the daughter he'd thought dead. Search your feelingd, Mara. What do you think your mother would have wanted? Han made his way out of the cantina, feeling exposed. Greedo was an idiot, one of the lowest tier of bounty killers on Tatooine, and that's why the schutta was a smoking corpse now. But it meant that Jabba was writing him off, planning to make an example of him. Damnit! Just as things were turning around! So he kept his eyes open as he walked, watching for other hunters, and his shoulderblades itched the entire way to the spaceport. Damnit, he grumbled as the blast doors to the bay hissed open. I just need a few more days to... To what, Solo? boomed a voice. It wasn't human speech or a human throat, but Han spoke the language. And there, blocking the main ramp of the Falcon was Jabba. And a retinue of thugs and hired blasters, including Boba Fett and IG-88. The latter had Chewie on his knees, blastercannon against the back of his mate's shaggy skull. Jabba! Han smiled, keeping his hands well away from his blaster. Just who I wanted to see! Any news? Luke asked as the landcrawler rembled to a stop outside the storm walls of Mos Eisley. No sir, reported a trooper - Sergeant Cavanaugh, Luke recalled. Nithing specific, at least. A TIE flight forced the skyhopper down outside Anchorhead, but there was nobody on board. The Princess' ship is still on lockdown and guarded, and we've received reports of an altercation in a local bar. Tell me more, Luke prompted. There must be something about that, to warrant mention. Yessir, the Sergeant said, nodding. The altercation was the killing of a local bravo. By a red-haired human woman with a green-bladed lightsaber, who was then observed speaking with a tramp freighter captain. Owns a ship called the, uh... He checked a datapad. The Milennium Falcon . I was about to take two squads to check in that ship, unless... He waited exoectently. Luke nodded. An excellent idea. I believe we'll accompany you. Han scowled as he brought the engines - far more powerfilul than a ship of the Falcon's size could legally iwn without the forged waivers he posessed - online. Things had gone well with Jabba, if you considered a 20 good will charge to be going well. But neither he nor Chewie were dead. So, yeah. Not too bad. Still, he'd have to scrounge up a run on Alderaan, ir this trip would end up costing them mire than they made. Because fuel and supplies cist, and he'd be handing the 10,000 right iver to Jabba. Chewie hooted. Naw, you aren't getting senile, he assured his partner. Just slow, in your old age. A frown, as the humor of the joke faded. Besides, IG-88 and Boba Fett? That's a bad surprise. Glancing out the canopy, he blinked and eyed the redhead appreciatively as she stared at his ship. But hey, our lucks finally changing. Get us launch clearance, and I'll go greet them. With that he shimmied out of his chair and squeezed past Chewie, then made his way through the ship and down the ramo. Welcome, he called to Mara. And to the old man and the droids as well. Welcome to the Milennium Falcon .