"That's not so bad," Leia commented, looking at the 'Peace-Keeping Certificate' Harry was showing her. "You should have seen my old diplomatic papers. I had them even as a child, because of my father's status, and the pictures for the last batch were taken when I was twelve. Everyone wanted me to look my best for them, but I had escaped from the preparations and gone running off to the palace gardens. The result was… interesting. As a lesson, my father forced me to keep them on there until I got my senatorial pass."
Harry could not help but laugh at the image this brought up in his mind. The poised Princess Leia forced to endure the shame of her diplomatic papers showing the pure chaos a rebellious jaunt into nature might evoke. Not that he thought her particularly vain, on the contrary, but it was still a very entertaining prospect.
The two were standing inside the wide cavern that was at the centre of the hidden lair, right next to the large hover-truck, watching as their captives were shuffled into the back of the bulky vehicle by Arden and Mercer. They were all wearing blindfolds in an effort to limit their ability to cause trouble on the way, although Harry was quite sure that the look on the Dathomirian witch's face would have been enough to dissuade any funny business. She still favoured her right side a bit, but it was clear that his friend would make a speedy and full recovery.
"We'll just drop these off, then we can pick up the old man and get off this dust-bowl," Harry observed in relief.
Again, he was placed behind the wheel of a vehicle he had absolutely no familiarity with, and yet again, it was surprisingly easy. Contrary to the landspeeder he had flown earlier, the transport also had a lever to adjust ground clearance, but that was about the only difference. Just as the X-34, there was no gear shift, just a steering wheel and some pedals. That suited him just fine, and he soon had the comparatively cumbersome craft out of the cave and on the cracked road.
"Are they behaving?" Mercer called to the back where Arden was standing guard over their captives.
"So far," came the almost disappointed answer from the cargo deck. "I still hope one of them will try something."
Having seen the one she had knocked out emphatically warn the others about her, Harry was highly doubtful of that possibility, and their captives overhearing the very exchange Mercer and Arden were just having probably did little to foster rebelliousness, either.
Despite the transport having less than half the maximum speed of the landspeeder, they reached the spaceport, and by extension the Imperial administration building, quite quickly. Indeed, they were quick enough that it was still the same, distracted guard standing outside the door. Eventually, though, even someone as disinterested as this guy could not overlook the procession of blind-folded, cuffed people being led his way.
"Halt," he called. "What is the meaning of this?"
For the first time, Harry pulled out his new bounty hunting certificate. "I'm here to claim the bounty for these six," he explained casually, trying to give off an air of confidence instead of the gnawing anxiety he actually felt. "One of them goes by 'the Lizard'."
Although seeing the man's eyes widen was somewhat gratifying, the wizard failed to comprehend why the local garrison had never done anything before. He could only guess that it was a mixture of what Mercer had said that the man simply was not enough of a nuisance for the Empire to care and doing the same they had done earlier. Some good, old-fashioned bribery.
"Right through here then, hunter," the soldier said, pointing to the door. It was telling he did not remember Harry's earlier visit.
The clerk, too, made googly eyes at the procession that entered her workspace, doubly so as they removed the blindfolds from the faces of the wanted men and it became clear that, indeed, one of them was 'the Lizard'.
"We'll take cash or a credit chip, whatever is easier."
OOOOOOOO
The group of bounty hunters had just left the administrative building, when the clerk they had handed their prise over to was already on a secure holo-com.
"Hello Maxwell," she greeted the man wearing an officer's uniform on the other end of the call. "How are you?"
"Splendid, Amira," he replied, his smile looking rather strained. "I take it this is not a social call?"
Oh, how she loathed this man; and it was reciprocated, as well. Still, for years they had had a very lucrative partnership. "Well, it was not for your uplifting company, as much is sure. I've got a target for you."
Maxwell's eyes glittered at the news. "Tell me," he demanded greedily.
"Slow down, Maxwell. 20% for me, as always," Amira prefaced, to annoyed nodding on the other end of the call. "I just had a group of bounty hunters here; they took out Lizard and delivered him to me with five of his goons. Best thing, they did not exist until this morning. Didn't seem like the type to stay on Grandine for too long, either. Far as I can tell there are four of them on one of those Pacifier scouts."
"I'll let you know how it went," the ship captain assured the clerk with a malicious grin.
OOOOOOOO
"15000 credits, as promised," Leia indicated the stack of currency on the Morningstar's lounge table. "Now get going."
"Already on my way, Princess," Solo assured. "Chewie warm up the Falcon, I'll get our guests off the ship."
The Hagrid-sized walking carpet behind him replied with a small roar that the smuggler actually seemed to understand and turned around and left Harry's ship, somehow managing not to dent his head on the various protrusions a being of his size could bump into on the rather compact vessel.
"What's so damn important about an old man, an annoying boy and two droids anyway," Solo asked, leaning against the doorframe cockily.
Leia fixed him with a glare. "That's for me to know and you to guess," she answered, replacing the glare with a smile that definitely did not reach her eyes.
"Alright, sweetie," the smuggler acquiesced before turning around and sauntering out of the ship.
"Smug asshole," the Princess muttered, upper lip curling in distaste as she looked to where Solo had stood seconds earlier. "Are we done with everything?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "Mercer sold the two speeders, Arden burned the drugs out in the plains and everything worth taking is now in one of the cargo holds. As soon as the general and his sidekick are on board, we can get going. Might get a bit cramped with so many people, but we'll survive."
"Good," Leia commented. "We need to hurry back to the secret Rebel Base; the information stored on those droids is vitally important."
Harry had thought about the next question he wanted to ask for quite a while, and he was prepared to be rebuffed. "What is that data, anyway?"
Leia sighed deeply and was obviously mulling over whether to tell him. "I suppose you've earned the right to know," she finally conceded. "The plans inside the astromech droid are the detailed schematics of the Empire's Death Star battle station, the same one you rescued me from. It's Tarkin's little pet-project; rule through fear. They're even calling it the Tarkin Doctrine."
The whole concept of ruling through fear seemed rather familiar to Harry. "Where I come from, there were many people with abilities similar to mine," he explained. "Some of them evil. There was one particularly evil guy, called himself Voldemort, who somehow managed to place something called a taboo on his name. That way, when someone said it, they could immediately be found by his henchmen and be made to pay for daring to speak the Dark Lord's name. It was… depressingly effective."
"The power of immediate and overwhelming reprisal," Leia analysed solemnly. "Yes, it sounds somewhat similar. I shudder to think, what the Emperor would do with power like that."
"Judging from my own experience with a rather persistent dark lord, nothing good."
OOOOOOOO
"General Kenobi, it warms my heart to see you," the Princess of Alderaan greeted the old man who had just come up the ramp. "Leia Organa, it is very nice to meet you. Hello, R2, 3PO."
"An honour to see you too, Princess Leia," the old general replied solemnly. "My condolences for the fate of Alderaan, and your family."
Leia nodded sadly, her firm countenance broken at the remembrance of what she had lost. "Your thoughts are appreciated, General Kenobi," she responded. "Who is your companion?"
The young man, roughly Harry, Arden and Leia's age if he had to guess, was shaken from the stupor he had been in while staring at the Princess, an action, which had the young wizard unconscionably annoyed.
"Luke… Skywalker," the young man introduced himself. "Ben is teaching me to become a Jedi."
Now that was guaranteed to get Harry's attention; of all the people he had heard about in this reality, the Jedi might have been the ones who knew the most about things like magic. Therefore, he was definitely looking forward to learning more about them.
"Good for you," Leia answered, although Harry could see that at this point, she was mostly just humouring him; instead, her attention was riveted on the little robot she had called R2 earlier.
"You have the data?"
The little robot… droid, Harry corrected himself beeped in a way that Harry instinctively knew to be something along the lines of a yes.
"R2 wishes to express his offense with even having to be asked that question," the humanoid, gold-covered robot translated stiffly. "Oh, R2, you are being terribly rude again. What must Master Luke think of you?"
Still bickering, at least that was what it seemed like they were doing, the two droids made off in the direction of the engine room, one rolling along the ground smoothly, the other in his awfully stilted gait. There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence for a while, as the two groups of people stood opposite each other without anyone saying a thing.
Eventually, Harry had enough. "Let me show where you can bunk," he told the two men and turned around. They followed him to the crew quarters and listened to him explain. "We picked up a few strays along the way, and this was never meant to be a transport ship, so we'll have to sleep in shifts. The girls have the cabin with the single bed through there, so you can take one of these if you want to catch some sleep."
The older of the two men inclined his head thankfully. "Thank you for your hospitality, young man. Might I know your name?"
"Of course. I am Harry Potter, but the Empire knows me as Vincent Dash, so should we get into the situation of interacting with anyone outside of the crew, that will be the name I respond to," Harry introduced himself. "On the Morningstar, Harry is perfectly acceptable."
"Then thank you, Harry," the general continued. Harry liked him well enough already, feeling reminded of a somewhat less batty and controlling Dumbledore. "Is there a place on the ship, where we could be allowed to train?"
"What kind of training?" the… well, he was the ship's captain, now, inquired suspiciously. "Things are rather tightly packed, right now."
"Oh, nothing dangerous," Kenobi assured quickly. "Just some light-sabre training, nothing serious."
Although he thought his estimates might have been off a bit due to a lack of knowledge, that particular description did not sound comforting; definitely not not dangerous.
"They have a training setting, nothing will be damaged," the older man continued his reassurances.
"I suppose you can use the engine room, then," Harry allowed. "Just be careful with the equipment in there."
"We will. Thank you, once again." With that, the general left, presumably to set up the training he had been talking about, and Harry was left alone with Luke.
"Sooo…" the young man began. "You have your own ship. I bet you must have had some great adventures."
The longing in Luke's voice was unmistakeable, and not all that surprising. As far as he had heard, the place he had grown up in was around as interesting and hospitable as the planet they were now rushing to leave behind.
"I only just got the Morningstar," he admitted, leaning against the wall. "But I've had my fair share of adventures before. It's never what people make it out to be. Most of the time you're scared out of your mind, and often it will be luck that saves your arse."
It was rather obvious that Luke had not expected that answer.
"But isn't it incredibly exciting?" the young man asked, although his boisterous mood was somewhat lessened. "Flying around, exploring the galaxy."
Harry chuckled. "I suppose it is," he admitted readily. "But if what I have experienced up until now were adventures, then I want nothing to do with them. I'd much rather be prepared for the future than stumbling headlong into it."
And he had actually meant what he said, and very much so. Still, deep inside, he knew that was a luxury he would probably be chasing for a long time.
OOOOOOOO
The entire group of eight humans and two droids had gathered in the bridge of the now much smaller seeming ship and were watching the planet glide away underneath them. Rapidly, first the spaceport itself and then the landmass on which it sat were getting smaller and smaller, as was the bad feeling Harry had had. Somehow, his 'adventures' were never this easy. He was just about to celebrate this whole affair as a lucky outlier, when a light on the comms console began blinking.
"Scout ship, this is the Corvette Reaper," a male voice said on the other end of the call. "We suspect you are transporting contraband. You are to subject yourself to an inspection. Prepare to be boarded."
Harry threw an alarmed look at Mercer, who was watching the emptiness of space around them shrewdly.
"They must have been forewarned," he theorised. "If this were a true Imperial action, they would know this was a stolen ship; I bet that clerk wanted in on the bounty we scored and called in some help."
"That's all very interesting," Leia interjected, "but how does it help us?"
The deserter smiled wickedly in reply. "It allows us," he explained, "to do most anything to this ship. They will be very reluctant to report any of this, for fear of losing their side-business. Now listen closely."
OOOOOOOO
From beyond visual range, the sleek, dagger-shaped form of the corvette Reaper was quickly closing in upon receiving word that they would be allowed to board. Closely following were two TIE fighters, the very same whose annoying noise Harry had already made out on Dathomir.
As for the Morningstar, it simply hovered in the emptiness of space, not much more than the Life Support Systems still running. Of course, that outward appearance of calm was sharply contrasted by the flurry of activity inside the ship. Everywhere, people were preparing for the plan Mercer had thought up. As the enemy corvette was closing in on the dorsal docking collar, their trap was sprung.
With a hard bank on the flight stick, the nose of the Morningstar was suddenly pointing directly at their target. A simple push on the triggers installed into that very same flight stick and the proton torpedo launcher installed right under the bridge spewed its deadly payload directly into the unprotected belly of the Reaper. Not to be outdone, the two turrets now manned by Harry and Arden started spitting out their defiance as well, continuing to hit the already wounded vessel.
As per their plan, Mercer quickly started banking away from their stricken enemy, while Harry and Arden rotated their turrets to the back; even as they were beginning to speed away in the rear of the corvette where none of its gun emplacements could fire, the two gunners let loose a blistering barrage of laser fire, causing the engines to first flicker, then gutter out.
In the cockpit, having plotted in a course of the autopilot, Mercer was busying himself with the comms console.
"Hello, corvette Reaper, can you hear me?"
"I will make you pay for this, you piece of scum," came the rather inarticulate reply from the other side of the connection.
"Tut tut tut," the deserter complained. "Let's try this again, shall we. I have an amazing offer for you that you would do well to accept; I think it would be rather embarrassing for you to have to tell the brass that your shiny new corvette was disabled by a single scout ship, right? So, I think we can agree that you, while valiantly pursuing a smuggler you had intel was running spice, were brutally ambushed by some marauding pirates."
"I'm listening…" the enemy captain grumbled in response.
"With the last bit of power, you could wrangle from your damaged ship, you managed to strike at their command ship, forcing them to flee," Mercer elaborated. "You can have all that, and as a bonus we will neither tell anyone about that very lucrative thing you and your colleague from the admin building are running here, nor will we upload the holo-vid we just took of our little… shall we say, disagreement."
"Done."
And the connection broke off.
OOOOOOOO
Outside the cockpit, the shimmering tunnel that was hyperspace was flowing by. Harry was sitting in the pilot's chair, with Mercer in the co-pilot's, and being shown how to fly his ship.
"That's actually not all that hard," he marvelled, staring at the flight-stick. "It just goes where I point it at with the thrust, I set on the lever."
"Yeah, well this is an easy ship to fly," Leia interceded as she watched them from the entryway. "I'm sure when we reach Yavin we can find something harder for you to try out."
Harry snorted. "I think I'll be fine," he responded. "Get a feeling for flying the easy thing, then maybe I will try my hand on something harder. Also, I don't really think the best place for me is space combat; can't really use my abilities from behind a canopy."
"Sounds reasonable enough," Leia conceded, while Mercer was beating a hasty retreat, throwing Harry a sly grin. "Would you tell me a bit more about yourself? Where you're from?"
"Sure," he allowed, although he felt a good deal of trepidation. "Can't promise you'll believe me, though."
And from then on, until deep into the night, Harry told the fascinated, if somewhat doubtful Leia the story of his life.
OOOOOOOO
Beyond the transparisteel canopy of the bridge, the majestic orange swirls of the planet Yavin were concealing the violent nature of the storms they were in actuality; but with the luxury of distance, winds that would have the ability to swat the Morningstar out of the sky like it was some annoying little insect were mere pieces of some elaborate, celestial art object. Naturally, Harry did not pay it much attention, given that he was currently riveted to the controls of his starship.
"Ease up on her a little, Boss," Mercer instructed from the co-pilot's seat. "Cramping up will either have you react too slowly or make you skittish and pull around the rudder wildly. Just take a deep breath and relax."
Harry did as instructed, and for a mere moment, he felt reminded of another way he had flown before: sitting on the old school-broom, feeling the wind in his hair, whistling around his ears. Of course, there was no wind in the vacuum of space, but the memory helped him relax his grip on the flight stick.
"Good, that's the stuff," Mercer praised flamboyantly. "We're going to make a pilot of you, yet."
Throwing his instructor a wicked glance, the young wizard retightened his grip on the controls and threw the Morningstar into the kind of dive he had used in catching Neville's Remembrall. It became clear rather quickly that, despite its small size and great manoeuvrability, the ship's inertial dampening devices were not meant to be taxed like this, and while he was only somewhat jostled in his seat, a thump and indignant cry from the direction of the quarters told a story of interrupted sleep.
Within short order, Harry had just resumed their original heading, a rather indignant Arden could be seen stomping into the cockpit, quickly followed by the ecstatic Luke Skywalker.
"You're trying out some flying?" he asked excitedly. "Can I try?"
"Sorry," the captain apologised to both of them. "I guess we just found out why even the seats in the lounge have seatbelts, and we don't have enough for everyone to stay safe if we pull any crazy manoeuvres. I am used to flying something much… smaller, and with less acceleration."
"Well, at least we know we have a gifted pilot amongst our little crew, Boss," Mercer commented wryly, winking at the still very much disgruntled Dathomirian witch whose sleep Harry had disturbed. Still, the crestfallen expression on Luke's face made it impossible for Harry to deny him even the tiniest bit of flight-time.
"Ah, go on, Skywalker," he decided. "You can take the co-pilot's chair and do some flying. Just, no crazy manoeuvres, alright?"
The boy from Tatooine nodded eagerly, and quickly replaced Mercer at his spot
"So, ever flown a starship before?" Harry asked, even though he already suspected the answer; if even half of what he had heard about the man's home planet was true, then the only reason for staying would be the lack of access to a way off-world. And indeed, the other man shook his head.
"It's actually not all that different from flying a speeder. You still have throttle control, as well as attitude control," he explained, repeating the same talk Mercer had given him just an hour ago. "The big difference lies in how many axes you have available. You following so far?"
"Yeah," Luke responded, even though his eyes were firmly riveted on the flight stick.
"Most basically, you have yaw, which would be the equivalent of your speeder's steering wheel, as well as pitch, pushing the nose up or down, and roll. That last one should be self-explanatory," Harry went on with his explanation. "Then you can strafe using the manoeuvring thrusters; not as powerful as the main engine block, but allows you to steer very precisely, if say you want to land on a small landing platform. Do you want to try?"
Luke looked at his 'teacher' for a moment as if he was daft before replying. "Of course."
"I thought so," Harry chuckled. "Just keep heading into the same general direction and keep away from that gas giant."
The farm boy eagerly went to work on the controls and was soon banking around the Morningstar from port to starboard and back, careful not to exceed the limits of what the inertial dampeners could compensate.
"You know, I was joking when I said earlier that we should put you into something more challenging to fly," the amused voice of Leia Organa resonated from the entrance to the cockpit, "but seeing this, I might have to rethink that."
Harry threw her a wide smile in response. "Sorry, I was serious about what I said, too," he replied apologetically. "Whether as a bounty hunter with an honour code, or an ally of your Rebel Alliance, I will always be more valuable as a specialised asset where I can bring my talents to bear; that is not in space combat. Though I plan to teach Arden at some point, as of this moment, I am the only one who can do, what I can, and it doesn't make me more likely to survive a dogfight."
The Princess returned his smile with equal intensity. "I happen to agree," she said, matter-of-factly. "Still, I would like to see what each of you can do behind the flight stick of an X-wing."
As Luke's eagerness in that regard was of little question, even while he was still concentrating on the ship he was currently flying, it was Harry who rotated his chair.
"I would like to try," the young, possibly somewhat smitten wizard replied. "It would be awful to disappoint you on this."
Before Leia had a chance to answer, the light on the console that indicated someone was trying to contact them started blinking.
"Honestly, this keeps happening," the young woman complained, although there was little bite to it. For there, beyond the cockpit canopy that had only a short time earlier been filled with the orange and brown of Yavin, was now a much smaller, green moon.
Noticing the oddly-conflicted look Harry was giving her, she questioned, "What? Is there something wrong with my hair? Do I have military ration around my mouth?"
"No, no," he rushed to reassure her. "What you just said only reminded me of someone back home."
Unwilling to go into further detail in front of Luke, Harry returned his attention to the instruments in the cockpit; specifically, the comms console. Trying to remember the steps Mercer had shown him earlier, he accepted the call.
"Unidentified ship, this is Massassi Station. You're entering restricted space; please state your name and intent," the stiff voice of someone quite audibly steeped in protocol echoed through the connection. Despite the uninviting welcome it provided, it probably made sense.
"Hello Massassi Station, this is the Morningstar," the captain replied. "If you would be willing to allow a visual connection, I believe you will be happy to see who we are bringing with us."
"I will have to clear that with my commander," stiff-voice responded. "Hold position and be advised that any movement will be seen as a hostile act and be reacted to accordingly."
"We'll hold position, Massassi Station," Harry affirmed; he was not eager to test his newfound flying skills against the Rebels.
A few minutes passed until, once again, a voice could be heard across the connection. "This is Commander Willard, identify yourself," a much gruffer, but also much less obstinate-sounding man demanded.
"As I said, this is the Morningstar. I am Captain Dash, and I have with me Princess Leia Organa of Alder…" he was interrupted in his reply by the connection suddenly opening to a visual level.
"Hello, Commander Willard," the Princess greeted the greying man now visible on a view-screen to the side of the cockpit. "It is good to see you well."
Even while she was talking, Harry could see Leia assume what he had come to dub her 'public persona'; she seemed more poised, less prone to the occasional bout of silliness like this.
"You're safe! We'd feared you lost when we heard of Alderaan's destruction." He seemed somewhat flustered. "You have landing permission, of course."