Form III: One Man Fortress Against All Odds.

[Wei Wu Wei]

Tatooine. The desert planet from which Anakin and Luke Skywalker emerged from obscurity to leave their own distinctive marks upon the galaxy. Wei always had thought it strange that a planet destined for obscurity would provide the two people who were arguably the most influential people in the history of the galaxy.

Wei sat in the famous Mos Eisley Cantina. He sat at the bar, casting his gaze around at the unseemly aliens who looked like they all worked for the Hutts and the poor human moisture farmers who looked older than they were thanks to the harsh climate brought by the planet's two suns.

"Moisture farming. Climate-wise, this planet might be dry, but booze-wise it is wet!" Wei signaled for the bartender to refill his glass with the cheapest Corellian alcohol he had.

"I wonder which table it was where Han Solo was supposed to have shot first?"

While the whiskey Jedi pondered over why some people felt it was so important a renegade would shoot first, he did not notice the people around him.

[Palara Iscandar]

Imperial Centre (or Center, if you were Corellian) always grated on her nerves, like grains of sand in a protocol droid's joints. The planet was black with the Dark, and she hated being there.

It was not that the planet wasn't intriguing; Emperor Palpatine, Vader, Inquisitor Atrapes, Grand Inquisitor Valten, all of them could have been said to have been made here, on what was once known as Coruscant. Speeders moved, so many and so often it was like the planet was alive, its veins pulsing light. And the ships came so often in and out of the planet that it seemed like the planet was the heart of the galaxy; all corners made their pilgrimage to its Centre (or, again, Center). The planet, though for all intents and purposes dead, was alive with activity.

The shuttle bucked slightly as they began to exit the atmosphere during one of the scheduled rainstorms. Thunder crashed, and Inquisitor Iscandar felt amused at how like the real thing it sounded. It was like a holo-recording of actual thunder, perfect in every way save that it was not real.

From the co-pilot's chair, she could see the Citadel, proud and silent, stabbing darkly up to the clouds. Lightning occasionally stabbed into one of the spires and fed the massive building with thousands of hours of energy. That was her last sight of the planet, before the manufactured clouds closed in, the thrum of water on the hull slowly ceased, and finally the dark silence of space opened up before her eyes, and she saw the Inquisition Ship Silencer, a Specter-class Corvette, waiting for her.

[Rev Solomon]

On the stool beside Wei there sat a tall, dark-skinned man in a loose beige shirt with a pristine white collar that marked him as clergy. On the bartop in front of him was a broad-brimmed nerfhide hat and a long-necked bottle of an obscure Dantaari beer, which he cradled as if it were more precious than liquid gold.

The preacher tuned slightly in his seat and looked Wei up and down before his eyes fell on the Jedi's glass of whiskey, already nearly empty for the third or fourth time. "Looks like you've worked up quite a thirst," he said idly in the manner of rural folk who consider conversation to be a God-given right. "It's only right to tell you in a climate like this, a drink like that's only going to make you thirstier."

[Wei Wu Wei]

"I. Am not. Thirsty."

Wei hadn't broken up the sentence for emphasis: he was just too drunk to be able to pick out all the words he wanted quickly enough to string them together smoothly. He hiccuped. It threatened to turn into a burp, but the former Jedi kept it back.

"Waiting for something. Looking for someone."

Your eyes can deceive you. Don't trust them. Let the Force be your guide.

The voice spoke directly to Wei. The words only just managed to penetrate the force field the alcohol wrapped around his brain.

"What about you? You thirsty?"

[Palara Iscandar]

The crew of the Silencer were standing at attention as she entered the ship and the hatch closed behind her.

"To your stations," she said. They saluted and split up. Four to the turrets, two to the bridge, and the others to their cabins to prepare for the operation.

She herself walked to the bridge with the two pilots, and upon entering, sat in the commander's chair and keyed on the holoprojector. Inquisitor Atrapes appeared, in miniature and familiar blue-grey shade.

"Inquisitor Iscandar, your mission is to capture one Wei Wu Wei," the recording began. A plethora of images came up on the screens around her as the image raised its hand. "The information available should be on your screens. He is a Force Adept, and well trained. We have tracked him across three planetary systems; and now we have evidence suggesting he is on Tatooine."

Iscandar reviewed the footage of the Adept, striking through several stormtroopers, with the aid of another, in a crowded spaceport. Age, height, weight, and other distinguishing features came up next to a rotating holographic bust of the man.

"We have records of Wei, in a raid done by Inquisition forces some years ago, before the dating of records was completely finalised. He appears to have knowledge of the location of a Jedi artefact. He must not die, or it is lost."

Iscandar turned back to look at the hologram just as it winked out.

"Set course for Tatooine," she ordered.

"Setting course for Tatooine," the pilot responded, keying the requisite coordinates for the jumps to the system. "Hyperdrive activating in three... two... one... activating."

The viewport glowed as space stretched out before them impossibly, and the bright glowing tunnel of hyperspace appeared.

[Rev Solomon]

The preacher laughed. "In this heat? You bet I'm thirsty. Right now I'd give my right arm for an iced Dantaari tea. But water's more expensive than wine in these parts, so they're not big on tea. This is the closest thing I could find."

He took a measured sip of his beer, which was more or less like drinking water out of a Dantooine hay field, but it was cold, and it was familiar, and above all it was wet. The alcohol was an afterthought, more a preservative than anything else, and the effect was negligible on Solomon's lanky frame, nearly two meters tall.

The preacher gave Wei a pensive look, as if he were trying to read to read something written with an unsteady hand. "In my experience, searching and waiting are hard to do at the same time."

[Wei Wu Wei]

Wei slipped off the barstool and cast his blurry gaze about the edges of the cantina in an attempt to find the door.

"Guess I better get moving, then."

Wei stopped for a moment, swayed, stumbled backwards onto the stool, and tried again.

It was about then that a small group of Jawas scuttled by towards a part of the wall that looked brighter than average. They jabbered to each other in their strange language, then disappeared.

"Ok, gotta go. See you when I get back."

Wei didn't wait for an answer, but put one foot in front of the other, keeping himself fixed on the Jawas. Once outside in the desert heat, he saw more Jawas than his small group, but the ones he followed moved with such purpose, they were surprisingly difficult to lose.

Wei followed them to their sandcrawler. The gigantic ramp just started to shut, though there was no longer any sign of the little aliens. Wei tripped over the closing boarding ramp, tumbled end over end into the dark holding area, and lay very still while he waited for his brains to stop spinning the world about.

It was no good. Wei rolled over onto his stomach just in time to vomit all over the floor. The horrid sound of regurgitation along with the wet splat of food and alcohol hitting the metal floor echoed throughout the room. Wei wiped his lips on the back of his hand and spat out the dregs that lingered in the corners of his mouth. The smell of the vomit assaulted his nose. He felt both angry and ashamed. Why did he drink so much?

It was not long before the odor met the nostrils of one of the poor Jawas passing by. The tiny people surrounded Wei, opened the hatch, and deposited him roughly in a desert valley.

The whiskey Jedi stood up on his shaky alcoholic legs and dusted himself off as best he might.

"Where am I?"

Not far from my old hermitage, actually.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Wei Wu Wei

"Whatcha doing out here?"

Watching after you. Come along. The Sand People have been following these Jawas for a while now. Best to get you to a safe place before you're discovered.

[Palara Iscandar]

'How does that place support life?' she thought as she regarded Tatooine, beige and dry, sitting almost placidly in space.

"Hailing Mos Eisley spaceport," the navigational officer reported. "No clear sightings of the target."

"He eez down zere," Iscandar replied, focussing on her connection to the Force. She was absolutely sure that her objective was there. "Land in Mos Eisley. Contact ze garnison to lend Troopers to ze operation."

Despite her accent and occasional mish-mash of words, the pilot and co-pilot/navigational officer began their set tasks quickly and without question. Iscandar activated the communications-link to the cabins contained the Inqusitorial Troopers assigned to her for this mission.

Yes Inquisitor?

"Prepare for dees-embarkment," she ordered. "Once we are on land, set a defensive position around ze landing pad until furzer orders."

[Wei Wu Wei]

Wei practically fell down the two steps leading into the small stone building. There was a place to cook, a bed, a small trunk, and one or two dusty changes of clothes. It was cool and shaded.

The former Jedi cast his gaze about the room. He moved through it clumsily; several times he tripped over his own feet or something on the floor.

I remember when you were knighted you had just begun to learn the lightsaber form I was most known for. Soresu: Form III. Known as the way of the Mynock, it is also called the Resilience Form. Purely defensive in philosophy and practice, Form III was once said to be the lightsaber form that best captures the Jedi mindset of non-aggression. When wielded with the skill of a master, Form III can make a Jedi invincible--but only as long as as that Jedi doesn't tire out before his opponent.

You remember the opening stance? Get your lightsaber and let's see what you remember.

Wei grabbed for his blade, rolled his thumb over the button to activate it, and took a low stance. Most of his weight sat on his back leg. His front leg extended in front of him. He held his empty front hand out with the palm open and facing his opponent. He gripped his weapon in his other hand with the tip of the blade pointed in front of him at eye level.

Good. Remember, Form III is about total defense. Therefore, there should be no wasted motion. Every block should be fast and efficient. We can achieve this by keeping our elbows in and sweeping the lightsaber in close circles. In fact, I would go so far as to say that your sphere of influence should reach no further than than the span of your outstretched arm. In other words, the tip of your lightsaber should not extend beyond the reach of your longest fingertip.

Wei found the proper distance. He swept the lightsaber experimentally around him to get a feel for it.

This is the philosophy of Soresu. If the battle is a hurricane, then you are the eye of the storm. You must maintain calm. If it is within your reach, then it enters the eye of the storm. With enough practice, it will become your Circle of Shelter, and nothing inside of it will come to harm.

Obi-Wan motioned to the chest. Open that, will you, and get the two practice drones out of there? They're simple enough to activate: they have a single red button, just like your lightsaber.

Wei did so. The droids sprang into action. Wei startled, stumbled back, and found himself off balance and leaning against one corner of the hut.

Oh, good. You've already found the first practice space. Keep the blaster bolts away from your body if you can. They only sting a little. It's not unlike being stung by an insect. Try to hit the bolts back at the drones when you can. Ready? Begin!

[Palara Iscandar]

Heat was the first sensation she could categorise upon stepping onto the surface of Tatooine. Her first thought was that the heat reminded her of the Dark; passion raging to the point of burning its own user as well as all those around him. The Trooper Lieutenant was behind her and to her left, and following him were the eleven other Troopers that formed her personal squad.

"Surround ze landing bay," she ordered. "Do not shoot to kill, but allow none to enter 'ere. We must not be noticed. Understood?"

"Yes sir," came the Lieutenant's bland vocabulator tones. The black armoured Troopers settled onto the different spires of the open landing bay, and four guarded the entrance.

"I will go to speak to ze garrizon commander," she informed the Lieutenant. at the door to Landing Bay 4. "We will 'ave need for ze Troopers already 'ere, I feel."

He saluted instead of answering. Inquisitor Iscandar left the landing bay, and pulled out her comm unit. She pulled up a hologram of the city, and marked the location of the Garrison Headquarters. It was not sizeable at all, but then too many Troopers would bog down the operation. What she would have readily accepted at the moment were more Inquisitors.

The whole planet seemed a washed out beige colour that only augmented the heat that had baked the earth she stood on. Her own darker garments contrasted greatly with the natives', but not quite so much with some of the spacers and smugglers that frequented this place. The military cut was something that would undoubtedly draw some attention.

Inquisitor Iscandar pulled her cloak about herself, and marched to the Garrison headquarters.

[Wei Wu Wei]

The drones were relentless. They fired an irregular pattern of tiny laser bolts at a steadily increasing rate. The inside of the clay brick cottage smelled heavy of charred material from the wild blasts Wei couldn't return to the drones. When he did manage to successfully send one of the lethal light lances back to the remote droids, they merely absorbed the energy and continued on.

Stop the training, Obi-Wan said suddenly.

Wei switched off his saber, which cued the droids' shutdown. "What is it?"

A disturbance in the Force. Someone is on this planet, and they're searching for something. The Force Ghost seemed to consider something for a moment. Wei, I need you to head back to the spaceport immediately.

Wei raised an eyebrow. "But we've only just begun to train."

Yes, but I have a distinct feeling you will be getting plenty of practice soon. I need you to find the datacard in the spare robes in the trunk. It's a key to a small hangar where my old Jedi Starfighter is kept.

Wei's other eyebrow joined its brother. "Beg pardon?"

When I came to Tattooine with Luke Skywalker, I took my Jedi Starfighter. Bail Organa set aside a large quantity of money in a secret account that would pay the Mos Eisley Spaceport authorities to keep it locked in a private hangar and not ask questions. Of course, that account lost funding when Alderaan was destroyed, but I fear if you do not go fetch my fighter soon, then it may fall into the wrong hands.

"What's in the starfighter?"

My old R4 unit for one, and along with him the coordinates of every historically significant Jedi planet. You must get to that fighter and either escape with it, or destroy it.

Wei started to ask another question, but Obi-Wan gestured at the trunk.

Don't sit there with your jaw slack!

Wei brought himself back to the moment, grabbed the card from the trunk, and set off across the Dune Sea with all the speed he could borrow from the Force. He really hoped the ship still worked. It would be of powerful use to him.

[Palara Iscandar]

"I 'ope such meezunderstandings will be avoided in ze future, yes?" she asked, her lightsabre burning the hairs from the Garrison commander's chin. He looked at her, and back over to his subordinate, who nodded, silently showing that her credentials were as impeccable as she had claimed.

"Y-yes, Inquisitor," he stammered.

"Good. I want your garrison to be stationed around ze space port landing bays en force. A Jedi will be attempting to escape. We must stop 'im."

"When?" the subordinate asked in lieu of his superior, who was breathing deeply and staring at the now deactivated hilt of Inquisitor Iscandar's lightsabre. There was a slight quirk to the Inquisitor's eyebrow as she answered:

"Now."




Getting the troops into position wasn't all the difficult, but trying to figure out which bay Wei Wu Wei would try to head for made up for that quite well. Iscandar attempted to access the Force, but it was slightly clouded, and moreover she had the distinct impression of a presence that was... amused? Most odd.

"The records date back to directly after the Purge; payment stopped after the destruction of Alderaan," the Inquisitorial sergeant reported. She nodded.

"Zat will be Wei's target," she said decisively; they'd already wasted most of the day doing general sweeps and searching for leads. "Concentrate sweeps on all avenues leading to ze bay. Post watch teams along ze routes to keep an eye out for ze Jedi. Sergeant, prepare your men; we must capture, not kill zis Jedi."

"Yes sir!" the sergeant saluted and turned back to relay her orders. Iscandar glanced up worriedly at the sky; the feeling that she was perilously close to losing her quarry was growing.

[Wei Wu Wei]

Wei pelted across the sands, kicking up dust and sand in his wake. He had no time to waste: even his limited abilities to sense events in progress through the Force could tell him something big was about to happen.

There it was: the security stop to the spaceport. Wei didn't have time to muster the focus he would need to Mind Trick the guards. He certainly didn't need to be fighting them--yet. Wei hit the brakes hard. He planted his feet in the sand. His enormous inertia drove him forward. Sand flew high in the air, showering stormtroopers. Then the dust trail blew in.

The sand in his clothes made him feel gross and threatened to rub him raw in places where his clothes kept constant contact with his skin, but there was no time to worry about that. The dust screen got him inside.

Stormtroopers trooped out from their numerous positions and patrols towards one location. Obi-Wan had been right. They were after the star fighter. Wei leaped onto the roof of one building, then the next, then the next. He was going to need help. No one had ordered an evacuation of the spaceport. Civillians could get caught in the cross-fire when Wei and the Imperial troops inevitably began their conflict. But Wei was only one person. He couldn't protect the people and the starfighter, too. He needed help.

That's when he saw Solomon.

"Hey!" Wei called. "Help me!"

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon had finished his beer and reluctantly ventured back out into the Tatooine heat to the old mission building on Boonta Street. He'd found a small contingent of believers there bowing in the direction of the rising suns, and he'd stood listening to their prayer chants in Huttese, not the style of worship he was accustomed to, but wondrous and refreshing all the same. He'd spoken with the old woman who led the small service and learned, to his disappointment, that the minister he'd come to see was long gone, called back to Nar Shaddaa on a family emergency.

Now the reverend was trudging through the dusty Mos Eisley streets to the spaceport where he'd landed the Exodus, considering whether he ought to try his contacts in Mos Espa or Bestine or whether the sudden influx of stormtroopers was a signal that he ought to leave Tatooine altogether. That was when he heard Wei.

Even a preacher isn't accustomed to hearing voices from above. Solomon looked up and pulled down on the broad brim of his hat to shade his eyes. Wei on his rooftop perch was nearly a silhouette against the blazing blue sky.

"Oh, there you are," the preacher said. "What's the problem, brother?"

A crazy thought occurred to him - he really hoped he wasn't going to have to talk this young man out of jumping.

[Wei Wu Wei]

"The problem is that all these stormtroopers are going that way!" Wei said, pointing towards the other end of the spaceport. "If I don't get there, and find the thing I'm looking for before they find it, I'm never going to make it! Thing is, I know what it is, and they don't! But I can't tell you because if they overhear, they know what I know!"

Wei took a deep breath. "But there's also people over there who don't know what's going on! But they need to know they're in big danger! As soon as I find what I'm looking for, the Empire will be able to find me and it very quickly! I can't keep the Empire from the thing and from hurting innocent people at the same time! And I absolutely cannot give up the thing! So I need help to save the people!"

Wei paused and thought about it. Maybe he was still drunk after all. What he said made no sense.

[Palara Iscandar]

"Inquisitor," the Inquisitorial Lieutenant said, saluting. "The squad has almost reached the landing bay. Should we enter to prepare for an ambush?"

"No," she answered shortly. "Our prey 'az already come into ze port. Pull all storm troopers to ze bay and prepare for a fight. We may not be able to access ze landing bay before 'e is upon us. If possible, we should disable ze ship zat is in zere to prevent any means of escape."

Inquisitor Iscandar wasn't one to swear; though she was battling the temptation to do so now. Setting up the blocks had been a mistake, drawing soldiers away from the battlefield. Had she been able to set them up sooner, they might have been able to force the Jedi along the cramped corners and by-ways of the port, where the terrain disadvantaged Wei, if it did not grant an advantage to the troopers.

Now they had to prepare for the Jedi to make for the landing bay and his own escape. They had no time; no time to clear the area of civilians to make it harder for the Jedi to hide, no time to set up a perimeter and flanking positions to force him to protect multiple opposing areas, they had no time to prepare adequately for this mission.

"Move quickly," she said as she trotted to a building and leapt up onto it. Her voice carried over the heat as she continued: "We 'ave little time to prepare for engagement."

She took a running leap, and began to hop from building to building in the direction of the landing bay, and ultimately, her target.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon squinted, half because of the brightness of the sky and half because what Wei had said made no sense. But then he glanced around at the Stormtroopers moving in packs through the streets around him. Every so often a group of four or more would split off down an alley or hustle into one of the big hangars that littered the spaceport. This wasn't a patrol - they were looking for something.

The preacher gave Wei a look of suspicion. Then, without another word, he stepped into the alley alongside the building where Wei was perched and disappeared from view.

And then, faster than could be explained by the rickety metal fire escape at the rear of the building, Solomon was on the roof behind the whiskey Jedi with a cold look in his eyes. "If people are going to be in danger, that means you're expecting a fight," he said. "You're going to need to tell me what's going on if you want my help with that, son."

[Wei Wu Wei]

Wei took a deep breath and tried again. "The Empire is after me. Or, they're after an old Jedi starfighter I know is here at the spaceport. I need it. This is the thing I was waiting for. If I can get to that ship, I can solve--" Wei made a gesture to indicate himself, "--this."

Wei stared off towards the far end of the port. "If they get to it first, they'll take it and lock it up, or destroy it. I can't allow it. But I don't want these people here to die because they're after me. Enough people have died like that already. So I am going to need your help."

Wei turned to face Solomon. "Please."

[Rev Solomon]

"A Jedi starfighter? Here?"

Solomon glanced back down at the column of Stormtroopers in the street. The search parties that had split off were funneling back from the alleys and hangars to rejoin the main group. If there was an old Jedi fighter in one of the paddocks, it was only a matter of time before they found it.

"That's a relic of the past," the preacher said. "I don't see how it's going to solve your problems."

He was going to leave it there, but something urged him not to - the little prickling at the back of his neck that usually meant the Force was at work. And then there was the desperation in Wei's eyes, something that went beyond the existential ravings of a confused drunk.

"Of course, if you wanted to clear out the civilians, you could use a distraction. Maybe trip the sensors on a couple tibanna tanks, make it look like a gas leak. Where is this fighter?"

[Wei Wu Wei]

Wei fished around until he found the keycard. He held it up to his face and squinted at the glossy surface reflecting the intense light of Tattooine's twin suns into his eyes. He cupped his hands around the card to block out the offending light.

It was a painful moment more before the blotches in his vision cleared enough for him to read the hangar number.

"It seems like it's over that way," Wei said. I wish I had a map of the spaceport, then I could find it better. But considering this thing reads Z-478, it looks to be pretty out of the way as it is."

The former Jedi pocketed the card. "The gas leak sounds good, but I don't know anything about machines."

Wei looked off towards his goal and released a long, weary sigh. "Ok. Let's go. We can do this."