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Chapter 38: False Flag

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“Praxa… er, Praetor, you are cleared for entry into Coruscant airspace. Enjoy your stay.”

Sindo switched off the comm and gave Regis a look. She guided the Praxagora through a cordon of aging Star Destroyers and an odd assortment of frigates from the days before the Empire. Even though many of the capital ships had scarred hulls and gaps open to the void, she still felt like a small loth-cat sneaking past a pack of guard dogs. Plus it was hard to play it cool while the cramped pilot’s compartment was packed with stormtroopers staring over her shoulder.

“That means they accepted our code, right?” said a stormtrooper.

“They did,” said Regis, turning away from the viewport. “But I don’t think it was our code they accepted. It was Mister Calrissian’s bribes.”

Lando gave Regis an annoyed look as an audible sigh of relief passed through the stormtroopers. “Don’t worry about it,” said Lando. “You guys can take care of me when I retire.”

“Retire?” said a stormtrooper in the back. “He knows this is a suicide mission, right?”

“Shut up, man!” said another.

They descended through a ring of ships, some bleeding sparks into the void, and sank down into dark sepia cloud cover. Regis thought at first that they were passing through a storm, then he realized it was only smog making its way into the upper atmosphere. They broke through the cloud cover and saw behemoths of twisted steel rising from turbulent channels of flowing sewage. Smoke drifted lazily from a chemical plant that had been burning for days, a disaster that had made headlines at first but was now just another inconvenience to be avoided while various agencies shifted blame.

“Here we are,” said Sindo. “The eternal city, they call it. An ecumenopolis covering the entire planet, and home to the leaders of the New Republic.”

Beside her, Chewbacca growled quietly, but said nothing.

Spotting several Cheka security drones hanging over the city, Sindo slowed the Praxagora’s descent and blended in among the air traffic winding around jagged skyscrapers. Once again the stormtroopers fell silent, and stared in awe at the brown waves crashing against rusted steel frames. Though many had heard the rumors, none were prepared for the sight of narrow beams projecting from one window to the next, with foot traffic occurring at impossible heights as entire families squatted inside buildings that were once the headquarters of galactic corporations, banks, and manufacturing plants. Handmade rowboats pushed through filthy water only a few feet beneath starships and hover cars jockeying for position.

“Where are the humans at?” said one stormtrooper, who stripped off his helmet to make sure he was seeing correctly. “All I see are aliens! This is worse than Tatooine!”

“What a dump,” said another, suddenly pushing away from the window.

“Look there,” said a third, pointing to a building where burning steel barrels could be seen through broken windows. “See that girl? That’s a hybrid Twi’lek. Part human. No real Twi’lek has dangly lekku that small.”

“Leave it to Jemmiro to spot a Twi’lek before any of us! Xenophile pervert.”

“Say that again!”

“Let’s cut the chatter,” said Regis. “There’s the New Republic Medical Facility, up ahead. And across that channel - the Republic Palace. Mister Calrissian didn’t have any contacts to bribe at the Medical Facility, so the closest place we can land is Coruscant Freedom Spaceport. We go in quiet, but once we land, we go loud. We make straight for the Medical Facility, causing as much damage as possible. Luke is going to split off, and go for the Empress. If possible, we grab Luke’s niece and nephew and get out. If that’s not possible, we dig in. We make any Cheka in our way, and any Stralucitor in our way, regret their decision to come to work today.”

They watched as the rust-red dome of the Medical Facility drew near, and they could see that it was crowded with narrow walkways and what looked like huts and lean-tos. Beyond it they could see the stately white stone spires of the Republic Palace, but it was obscured by the mushroom growth of the Senate Building, which looked like a hideous boil festering in filthy water, surrounded by the flies of air traffic as alien Senators buzzed to and from their important meetings.

“Making for the landing zone now,” said Sindo. “Let’s hope Calrissian’s bribes worked here, too.”

“Actually,” said Luke, “I need to get off here.”

“What?” said Regis.

Turning, Regis saw the stormtroopers making room for the Jedi Master as he made his way toward the pilot’s compartment.

“I can’t just set this thing down anywhere!” said Sindo. “Just wait, and you can get off with us at the-”

“Slow down and pull up alongside that building,” said Luke, waving his hand subtly. Before Regis could argue against the idea, he felt the Praxagora slowing down. Regis met Luke at the entryway.

“Luke, what are you doing?” Regis leaned in close.

“Sorry, Regis. Leia can sense my arrival. I can feel her, and she can feel me. I’m putting you in danger just by being here.”

“That’s why we need to move as a team. Right?”

Luke smiled unexpectedly. “No, Regis. Just… trust me, alright?”

Regis did not like it, but he knew this was not a fight he could win. “Of course, Luke,” he said, nodding. Though he felt an unexpected sense of impending dread at their parting, he forced himself to smile. “We’ll throw a big party. They won’t even see you comin’.”

“Do what you know how to do. I’ll do the same. May the Force be with you.”

Luke hit the switch to open the entryway and Regis grabbed a wall restraint as wind whipped through the ship. Stormtroopers cursed and grabbed whatever handholds they could find. Sindo looked back and shouted, “Woah, I can’t stop here, but I can-”

As they floated past a tall building, Luke leaped, his black cape billowing like curtains in a storm. Regis grabbed a stormtrooper as he darted toward the entryway.

“He just jumped!” someone shouted.

“What!”

Regis leaned toward the open doorway, and sure enough, he saw Luke’s billowing cape on the side of the building. Nothing living could have made such a jump, and yet Regis saw Luke’s hand raised in farewell as he climbed in through a broken window. Regis hit the switch and the entryway closed.

“That’s Luke for you,” Regis said, turning to the open-mouthed stormtroopers. “You guys think I’m somethin’ special? Luke Skywalker is the real top dog.”

“Unbelievable…” one stormtrooper muttered.

“I knew there was somethin’ about that guy!” said another.

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Regis caught Sindo looking back at him with an expression of horror. Regis shook his head with a smile, dismissing her embarrassment at going along with Luke’s command. He knew that once Luke set his mind on something, no one could stand in his way.

“Go on, Sindo,” said Regis. “Set us down at the spaceport. We’ll catch up with Luke later.”

As the Praxagora picked up speed and Sindo directed her nearer the New Republic Medical Facility, Regis felt the nervous tension twisting his insides. He knew that he was standing on the edge of a precipice, likely without any safe landing. But knowing that it was probably worse for the others, especially the ones who had never really lashed out at their alien overlords, filled him with a sense of determination. He wanted to help them walk through these dark thoughts that haunted every soldier before every battle.

Turning to face the others, Regis said, “Alright boys, no backing out now. This is it! Luke put his life on the line for me - for the human species! - when he didn’t have to. Nobody’s ever paid him what he deserved. They only canceled him, took his career away from him, stuck him on some dump of a planet so they wouldn’t have to hear him. They did the same to me, and to plenty of others. When I found out that they were coming after his family, I was going to come here alone, and raise hell to help him out. But I didn’t get to come here alone. I found out I’ve got too many damn good friends!”

“That’s right!”

“Yeah!”

As the young stormtroopers shouted their agreement, several who were still holding their helmets in hand banged them against the wall, an old stormtrooper tradition that Regis was glad to see had not died out.

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“I know we’ve all been disappointed,” Regis continued. “Humans always tried their best to get along with everybody. But now we know that everybody hated us this whole time. No matter what we did for them, they were grumbling, and plotting behind our backs. They had to trick other humans into giving up without a fight. It was the only way they could get one over on us! But they never beat us, did they?”

“No, sir!”

“Not us!”

“They never beat us!” said Regis, slapping his fist against the plastoid armor at his chest. “They took our Emperor, they took our dignity. We had to pull back, lick our wounds, and watch while these creatures mismanaged the entire galaxy. But we’re comin’ back! Aren’t we!?”

“Yes, sir!”

Regis nodded. Glancing at the windshield, he saw that they were swooping in toward the landing field at Coruscant Freedom Spaceport. His heart took off racing. “We’re coming back… and we’re going to remind the aliens squatting on our world, our capital, that they can’t get away from our justice!”

“Yeeea-a-ah!”

Birdy smacked his fist against his chest, and Vasili pushed his head into his white helmet and slapped it in place.

“Code’s been accepted!” Sindo called over her shoulder. “Landing now!”

“You heard her!” Regis shouted. “Helmets on! Blasters ready!”

Regis stood next to the entryway, sick with fear but trying his best to be the ultimate soldier that everyone expected him to be. Young stormtroopers donned their helmets and formed up behind him, and the black-armored pilots with their blaster pistols squeezed in behind them. On their right flank, Birdy, Vasili, Lando, and then Chewbacca formed up. On their left flank, the death troopers formed up with their rifles already raised, like gleaming predators ready to strike.

“This is it,” Regis said through clenched teeth. “Let’s make history.”

* * *

“Going somewhere, Ino?”

In the middle of a crowded thoroughfare in Coruscant Freedom Spaceport, Ino and his younger brother Tomm stopped before a gangly Yarkora with a face that existed only to support a massive nose. Ino’s first thought was that he should run and try to lose the gangster in the crowd, but a big Klatooinian bruiser came up beside his little brother. Tomm gripped Ino’s fingers in a spasm of fear.

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Ino’s gaze went to the shuttles lined up beyond the crowded Cheka security gate. He felt a painful sense of longing watching several ships rising into the air. He ignored the impulse to pull his brother close, and instead tried to plaster a fake smile across his face.

“Jaged!” said Ino. “I didn’t expect to… s-see you here! Are you, uh… applying for a job handling baggage, too? Because that’s… that’s what I’m doing!”

“Applying for a job, Ino?” said Jaged, his enormous nose twitching. Suddenly grabbing Ino’s backpack and jerking it so that Ino had to fight for balance, Jaged said, “You pack luggage when you apply for a job?”

Ino felt cold sweat running down his forehead. Glancing down at his brother, he saw that Tomm was making no effort to play it cool, but was instead frozen in terror.

“We-e-ell,” said Ino, “they said if I want to handle luggage, I need to… to bring my own… and show them how well I can-”

“Let’s cut this short, kid,” said Jaged. “You and your baby bro are trying to leave the hood. And you thought your old friend Jaged wouldn’t hear about it.”

Ino fought for air as the large spaceport suddenly felt cramped. Again he looked over at the security checkpoint, where the Cheka guards in their gray and blue uniforms were strolling up and down the lines of travelers, pulling aside humans to inspect their bags. Ino wanted to call out for help, but he knew the Cheka would not care about his plight. As if sensing his desire to run, the big Klatooinian brute edged up closer and growled.

“Okay, little guy,” said Jaged, twisting up his face as if in pain. “Here’s the deal. You go back to the neighborhood. Your mother’s worried sick. And your family’s protection fee isn’t going to get paid without your help. You need to work, Ino, if you want our protection. The days of human privilege are over.”

“But mom’s getting hybridized,” said Ino. “So if I leave, she won’t have to-”

“She’ll pay a reduced fee, depending on how underprivileged her new race is considered. But she’s not getting off free. No one does, Ino. You know the Cheka are overworked and understaffed. Right? That’s why you pay us… the Neighborhood Protection Committee.”

Jaged smiled, but it was more of a condescending smirk. Ino heard the big Klatooinian chuckling behind him.

“Protection,” said Ino, biting off the word. “And just what are you guys protecting us from? I sometimes forget.”

Jaged held his arms wide. “Are you kidding? From Imperialists! You know there are human supremacists all over this galaxy! Why, any human in here right now could be a secret stormtrooper, just waiting to kill some poor, unsuspecting person like yourself. Ino, if you’re smart, you’ll turn around and go back to…”

While Jaged rambled on, Ino’s thoughts spun around in an angry, impotent maelstrom. As stupid and hypocritical as their name was, the Neighborhood Protection Committee was the most dangerous gang in this sector. Maybe even worse than the Cheka, as they took an active interest in the lives of their marks, poring over everyone’s finances, finding out how much each and every person could pay. By comparison, Ino had never seen an Imperial stormtrooper. Did they even exist? The fact that the Neighborhood Protection Committee bought the Cheka line that stormtroopers were just waiting to attack was perhaps the most frustrating thing about living under their thumb.

Ino’s thoughts were interrupted as he glanced over at the landing field and saw what looked like an army of stormtroopers piling out of one ship’s entryway. He blinked. He was surely dreaming. In fact, Jaged was still moralizing about the importance of working for the community, and the Cheka were still shouting at travelers about which line they should be in and what articles of clothing they needed to remove next. It seemed to be business as usual as one dozen, then another dozen stormtroopers in white helmets and black helmets approached in formation.

“Are those undercover Cheka?” Ino interrupted Jaged. His question was answered when several Cheka turned and stared, dumbfounded.

The spaceport erupted in a storm of blue and red blaster bolts as the stormtroopers opened fire. Cheka fell in a wave of sparks and steaming, burnt flesh, security scanners exploded, and travelers screamed and ran in all directions. Tomm flung himself against Ino, who only stood with his mouth hanging open.

“What in-” was all Jaged had a chance to say before a blue bolt smacked into his belly, spinning him. His loyal Klatooinian sidekick turned and ran before his teammate even hit the ground, his muscular arms pumping with insane desperation.

Ino stared, fascinated by the sight of a stormtrooper kicking over an astromech droid with a resounding klang! while a giant black death trooper drilled a cluster of Cheka trying to climb over the fence at their own checkpoint. One stormtrooper turned and seemed to look directly at Ino, and he felt a forbidden thrill run through him. The white-armored Imperial raised a long rifle and fired - Ino leaped in alarm, then turned and saw a Cheka Wookiee in blue armor fall over in a heap. Again Ino’s mouth fell open.

“K-kid… hey, Ino!”

Jaged lay on the ground with both hands gripping his blackened, singed belly. Tomm stuck his face against Ino’s chest, but Ino could not look away from the wounded gangster.

“Kid,” Jaged continued, fighting to speak through the pain. “You gotta… gotta get me out of here! If you can… can drag me… I’ll make it so the boys get rid of your debt! Or… or at least reduce it… a c-considerable amount…”

The shrieking wail of blaster fire receded into the background in Ino’s mind, for the sight of Jaged reduced to such a state was like a dream that he had never allowed himself to imagine. He heard himself laughing, despite the fear and confusion leaping inside of him. He gripped his brother close, and stared Jaged down.

“Get slagged, yak face!” Ino shouted, then turned and fled, leaving his tormentor far behind.