Continuing the mission to locate the Bothan spy, Borsk La’Reth, the heroes come into close proximity with a Trade Federation Droid Control Ship somewhere in the unknown regions of space…
Trissen set down his SoroSuub Luxury 3000 Yacht in the darkened hangar. Mharrula and Torrent likewise gently landed their starfighter craft near Darga the Hutt’s old vessel. The over-sized room was deathly quiet. Nothing moved save the Z-95 Headhunter cockpit windows and the Chainbreaker’s exit ramp.
“Hey boss, I should probably mind the store while you folks check things out. Let me know if you have any trouble and I’ll come running with my lightsaber blazing.” Jenna, the Togrutan Jedi who accompanied the group while the team was investigating the whereabouts of the vile gangster Darga, propositioned her friends with this essential ‘rear guard’ service. In the event that the heroes needed a quick escape or reinforcements they could always count on their loyal orange-skinned friend.
“Thanks. We’ll take you up on that.” Trissen slowly exited the craft and using his ability to scan the area in total darkness had a quick look around. “Do you guys see a light switch anywhere? I can only make out cold shapes in this blight.”
Igniting his lightsaber, Torrent had a look around as well. “There is bound to be an access panel somewhere. Stand by.”
The young Jedi male crossed the hangar with haste towards the ship entry point recalling on his memory while he was yet in the Clone Wars, that the manual controls for the atmospheric force field currently engaged should be near the entry wall. Sure enough, the familiar red and green indicator lights of the rectangular access panel were spotted and he motioned the experimental battle droid over to effect some illumination.
Within seconds, the android computer guru bathed the hangar in bright, white flourescent light. Before the heroes had a moment to recover their eyesight an internal hangar door was opened and out marched a troop of OOM-series battle droids. Peculiarly these droids were not armed with blasters but with power tools. A droid repair team!
B1-X moved quickly to intercept and demanded that they identify themselves and to identify their purpose. However, with zombie-like persistence and single-mindedness, they only repeated in unison as they headed towards the exterior of the droid control ship, “The master wants repairs made. The master wants repairs made.” Without stopping to consider the intruders, the droid repair team disappeared from view after exiting the craft.
“That…was…odd”, remarked the Trandoshan soldier.
“Indeed.” Reaching out with the force, Torrent tried to get a feel for any dark side presence as an explanation for what was just witnessed. “My friends, I believe that we are not alone here as organic beings. I sense the dark side in this vessel though the feeling is light for the moment.”
“Can you get a fix on where this darkie is at?”
Torrent considered again stretching out with his knowledge of the Force, “Beyond those interior doors lies the answer. We should make haste.”
“Yeah, I would hate to be here after these droids wake up.” Trissen pointed his blaster cannon in the direction of the now discernable forms of a quantity of parked vulture droids.
“My brothers!”, exclaimed the B1-X companion in apparent joy.
Before he could take delight in this revelation, Trissen interjected, “Don’t get too happy, droid. These aren’t your friends until we determine who is controlling them. Now, let’s go before we are detected and forced to find out too soon!”
Entering into a corridor beyond the hangar doors, the heroes decided to take a left down the red lit concical passageway. Motioning with his lightsaber, “This way, my friends. The presence grows stronger in this direction!”
Soon enough the team finds themselves in what appears to be a large conference room complete with a large wall-sized viewing screen directly ahead of them across a large floor with a symbol of the Trade Federation painted on its surface. Trissen located a turbolift on the right side but only discovered it to be inoperable. B1-X started to make his way over to the north side of the room where an additional turbolift chamber came into view. Halfway through the hall, the main viewing screen crackled to life, displaying a shadowy figure who addressed the infiltrators in low computer-enhanced tones, “Welcome, you who are here on behalf of the ever-gracious senator Bail Organa of the Galactic Empire! I see that you have been well met by my ambassadors on the planet and have decided to pay your respects to your host here on this station. I am honored by your presence. Please feel free to tour my home at your leisure. As your benevolent host, I can provide you with many diversions to ensure that your stay here is a pleasant but a short one!”
Metal upon metal rolling sounds grow louder as the figure continues his introduction. “Ah, yes. Here they come now to greet you. Please avail yourself of every comfort I have and to prove to you my commitment to your well being while aboard my starship I would like to introduce to you my personal hospitality assistants who would be most delighted to make your acquaintance!” At this, the viewing screen shuts down and the party is met by a total of four Droidekas, two from each corridor.
“Destroyers!”, shouts Trissen.
To be continued…