Jedi Insurgency 138

Within the Theed palatial hangar, Jar Jar disembarked from his diplomatic shuttlecraft with his ears drooping, and an uneven gait. No one had come to greet him, he was alone. 

Once upon a time, he had been the proud bombad General, the one chosen to represent his people. But ever since the Jedi Temple burned, and the Jedi were branded as public enemies, he had lost that pride. 

He sat on an overturned crate, staring into the shadows where the damaged starfighters only served to enhance his melancholy. The sight of them acting as guards to his shuttlecraft used to make him feel important. Now, they only made him feel small.

“Lil’ Ani…” He whispered, his voice trembling. “Mesa remember da way yousa smile. Da way yousa fixin’ ships, dreamin’ ‘bout flyin’ among da stars…”

Jar Jar smiled faintly at the memory, and then he recalled that big, dark man dressed in imposing armor. Anakin Skywalker, the little boy who once risked everything for others, had become Darth Vader, the monster who hunted Jedi. Jar Jar’s heart clenched in pain at the part he had played in this twisted game. He’d helped bring Palpatine to power, and now regret suffused his system. 

The Gungan’s hands shook. “Mesa done all dis… mesa ruined everyting…”

He stood and wandered toward the open hangar doors. The wind brushed against his face, carrying the faint scent of the Theed gardens. Somewhere deep in his heart, a single, terrible thought took root. Maybe it would be easier…to just step out. To disappear.

As he considered ending it all, a spark of life lit up his communicator. 

“Jar Jar Binks, come in! Emergency transmission!”

Jar Jar jumped back in fright, and tossed the device into the air. Fumbling with it, the communicator almost fell off the edge, before he caught it-and himself-from going over. During this act, he had accepted the transmission, and the blue light of the holoprojector flickered to life, casting ghostly light across his face. The signal was weak and distorted, but the message came through. 

“Queen Neeyuntee…under attack. Royal Palace…need help! Only…you…can-”

And then the image cut out, gone as fast as it had arrived. 

“Queen Neeyuntee?!” Jar Jar gasped, his eyes went wide in exaggerated surprise. 

Without another thought, he bolted deeper into the palace in search of the Queen. His limbs flailed wildly as he bounded across the fine carpeted floor, startling a pair of astromech droids into a chorus of panicked beeps.

He burst into a hallway, breathing heavily. . 

“QUEEN NEEYUNTEEEE!”

The guards barely had time to react before he stomped up a flight of stairs. Priceless marble statues toppled like dominoes behind him. Among the carnage was a vase dating back to the Old Republic, which shattered with a crash. Courtiers screamed and scattered, and the guards hesitated to restrain this famous son of Naboo. 

“Where’s da Queen?! Yousa Majesty! Mesa comin’!” Jar Jar frantically declared. 

His high pitched, shrieking voice echoed through the grand halls, bouncing off gold-leaf walls and ornate tapestries. Panic spread, and Theed’s refined calm dissolved into chaos as servants ducked for cover and soldiers scrambled to contain the commotion.

“Stop him!” One guard pointed. 

“He’s gone mad!” Another hurried to catch a priceless painting. 

But Jar Jar didn’t hear them. His heart pounded in his chest. The adrenaline spurred him on, but also his selfish desire motivated him. All his life, he had been cursed as a jinx, and all he wanted was to be useful to others. If he could save Neeyuntee, then perhaps his past failures wouldn't be so bad! 

“Hold on, Queenie.” He whispered between gasps, “Mesa not lettin’ anudder friend fall…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bridge of the Venator Starburst hummed with the quiet rhythm of control consoles and the soft chatter of the night shift. Outside the vast viewports, Naboo shimmered like a jewel beneath the soft light of its twin moons. Captain Darius Nero-a completely standard looking officer wearing grey attire-sat comfortably in his command chair with one leg crossed over the other. Cradling a steaming cup of caf in one hand, and a dataslate filled with funny Loth-cat posts on the Holonet, he was enjoying an easy assignment. 

It was quiet at work today, and for a soldier, another boring day was preferable to being fired upon. There were no Admirals breathing down his neck, no Senators demanding escorts for their sleek yachts, and no battle alarms to rattle the nerves of his crew. Just him, the stars, and the smooth hum of the engines.

Nero was lazy, yes, but he was not careless. His bridge crew worked efficiently, achieving all necessary requirements under his relaxed command. Each sailor knew their duties and would complete everything to the standard. This was a relatively easy assignment, but trouble could brew at any moment, so it was important to keep the men sharp, giving him more time to slack off. 

Taking another sip, he sighed contentedly. 

“Nothing like night duty to remind you the galaxy can behave itself once in a while.” Nero mused aloud, drawing a few tired smiles from the watch officers.

As if summoned by his words, the peace on the bridge shattered when a klaxon blared. 

Red lights flared to life, and strobed across the bridge. The main holoprojector blinked to life, lines of encrypted code flashed across the display. Many different characters scrambled, and reassembled until they resolve into a single, chilling line of text: PRIORITY TRANSMISSION – CODE: DELTA RED.

The deck crew froze. Delta Red transmissions didn’t request permission, they were hard coded into the Venator's systems, to always be received! 

“Someone-” Nero began, but before the order finished, the channel forcibly connected. The projection fizzled, and stabilized into the dark, cloaked form of a masked figure. The entire bridge seemed to grow colder as an intangible aura spread across the room like fog. 

Nero jerked upright, and moved to stand. His chair slid back with a screech, the movement sent hot caf sloshing over the rim of his cup, spilling across his gloves and boots. He hissed quietly at the sting, setting the mug aside and hastily straightening his tunic. Then he snapped to attention, saluting crisply.

“Agent Bond, sir.” His voice cracked slightly before he swallowed some saliva, and spoke more confidently. “Captain Darius Nero, of the Starburst, at your service.”

The figure said nothing at first. The mask’s blank eyes glinted faintly in the holoprojector's light, and that silence spoke a thousand words. It drove the tension on the bridge to a knife’s edge. Nero could feel his officers staring, waiting.

As for him, sweat began to pour down his back. Few people knew just how fragile the new Empire truly was, but Nero had a friend who was in the ISB. The way they spoke about this man, Bond, was like he was some spirit or creature of legend. He had even overheard his officers discuss the masked man whilst walking by. This was the ISB's top Agent. Answerable only to Isard, and Emperor Palpatine, he had the power to determine the life or death of anyone below the rank of Admiral. 

Holding his salute, Nero barely breathed, hoping that whatever happened next, would end with him keeping his head. 

When Bond finally spoke, his voice was low, and metallic. “Tell me, Captain…were you aware?”

Nero blinked. “Aware, sir? Aware of what, Agent?”

The cloaked man tilted his head ever so slightly, as if regarding a particularly disappointing insect. 

“Of Revan, Captain. Of the Jedi. Their presence upon Naboo.”

A hush fell so deep it drowned the hum of the consoles. Nero’s mouth went dry. The number one most wanted man in the galaxy was here! On Naboo?!?!?! 

“R-Revan, sir?”

“Do not feign ignorance. Senator Binks is en route to rendezvous with the traitor himself. They conspire even now to kidnap the Queen of Naboo.” Bond spoke in a sharp tone of voice, each word was like a knife stabbing into Nero's gut. 

The Venator Captain felt the blood drain from his face, and he stuttered his next words, certain that a fate worse than death awaited him. 

“The-the Senator? Sir, I wasn’t informed of any such-”

Bond leaned closer to the holo’s edge, the mask filling the projection’s space. “If I were you, Captain…I would do something about it.”

Then the image vanished as Bond cut the call, and the calm blackness of space returned to the bridge.  

Nero exhaled, only then realizing his hand was still trembling from the salute. He looked around at his officers, every one of them were staring at him in a panic, their pale faces meant that they knew their careers were also on the line. 

Nero cleared his throat. “You heard the man.” His voice was hoarse but firm. “Set the Starburst to Red Alert. Signal the Roundout to do the same.”

“Aye, Captain!” A naval clone trooper saluted. 

“Scramble all fighters. Deploy LAAT squadrons to the surface. I want full scans of Naboo’s upper atmosphere and orbital lanes. Nobody comes or goes without us knowing about it!”

The bridge erupted into controlled motion. Officers relayed commands, klaxons blared anew, and the quiet hum of the night shift gave way towards the nervous energy of war. 

Captain Darius Nero listlessly sank back into his chair, his eyes fixed on the shining blue world below.

“Revan…” He muttered to himself, a bitter edge creeping into his tone of voice. “What in the stars have we done that deserves your machinations…?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The private cinema of the Royal Palace of Theed was full of opulence and comfort: velvet seats, golden sconces, and a holo-projector with images so crisp, they almost seemed real. To most, it was paradise. To Yon, it was purgatory.

Slouching in his chair, his chin rested heavily on his knuckles, and a faint scowl marred his otherwise sharp, boyish features. The kyber crystal resting on his lap was far more interesting to him than the syrupy romantic holo flickering before him. Every second crawled by with painful slowness.

Beside him, Queen Neeyuntee was decidedly not bored. The young monarch’s eyes were fixed not on the holo, but on him. Every so often, she’d pluck a kernel of buttered popcorn from a gilded bowl and offer it to Yon. Her fingers brushed his lips every time she fed him, and a spark of electricity would flow down her spine. Yon would barely notice, muttering a polite “thank you” before returning to his thousand-yard stare at the screen.

To the guards stationed at the back of the room, it was a scene of comedy. The Queen was hopelessly smitten, and the Jedi was as dense as the durasteel walls surrounding the palace.

Neeyuntee sighed softly, leaning closer, her hand slid around Yon’s arm. “Are you enjoying the film, Master Jedi?”

Yon exhaled sharply through his nose. “It’s...very detailed.” He said flatly, though his eyes remained fixed on the holomovie. “The uh, grass is very realistic.” 

“You’re funny.” She giggled, utterly charmed by his lack of enthusiasm, and squeezed his arm tighter. “You'd probably rather be risking your life racing, wouldn't you? Oh, how exciting~” 

Yon frowned slightly, unsure what was funny. This was excruciating. Surely nothing could make this moment any worse-

At that moment, the door to the private cinema exploded open.

“MEESA HERE TO SAVE DA QUEEN!”

The unmistakable voice of Jar Jar Binks echoed through the room. The Gungan charged in, arms flailing, eyes wild with alarm.

“Kidnappers! Meesa heard there’s kidnappers!” He cried, just before tripping over the polished boot of a startled Royal Guard.

The guard stumbled, causing him to fumble with his blaster, and discharging a shot. The bolt struck an enormous chandelier, sending it plummeting toward the young couple. 

Yon’s instincts snapped into motion. In one smooth motion, his lightsaber sprang to life with a hiss of emerald light. He slashed a falling chain aside, seized the Queen around the waist, and rolled them both out of the way just as the chandelier smashed into their seats with a thunderous crash.

When the dust settled, Yon found himself on one knee, holding Neeyuntee in his arm like a Wookiee carrying his lover across the vines. Her eyes opened wide, and her cheeks flushed crimson as she stared up at him. 

For the first time, Yon noticed the scent of her perfume, it was light, floral, in a word: dizzying. Something stirred in his chest, it was strange and powerful, unlike anything his Jedi training had ever prepared him for. His lightsaber stirred, and the kyber crystal within pulsed. 

Yon blinked, trying to steady himself. 

“You’re…unharmed, Your Majesty?” The short, black haired teen managed to get out. 

Neeyuntee only nodded, still gazing at him as though the galaxy had stopped spinning.

Before either could say another word, the floor trembled violently. The holo screen flickered and died as the palace walls shuddered with the unmistakable thunder of orbital bombardment.

A guard shouted from the doorway, “Your Majesty! The Empire’s troops are landing! Clone units have been deployed, there's thousands of them!”

Yon set the Queen gently on her feet, the brief warmth in his chest hardened as he had something to protect. Turning towards the sound of blasterfire, his green blade-tinted with red-cast a sharp light across the gilded walls.

“Stay behind me, I'll protect you.” Yon said resolutely. 

Neeyuntee all but swooned, only for Jar Jar to grab Neeyuntee out of Yon's hands, and run away. “I have her, yousa fight while we hide!” 

Yon stared at Jar Jar's back, flabbergasted. Narrowing his eyes, Yon felt an unknown heat in his chest, and was about to pursue them, when the door was busted down, and clones began to flood inside. 

“There they are!”

“Blast them!” 

Brandishing his lightsaber, Yon grimly smiled, and embarked on a massacre.