Prologue
Every now and then, Jedi Master Zourvux Reivzx was completely and utterly certain of something. In this particular case, it was that this proposed peace treaty was a ploy. She had no idea how or when but she was utterly certain that the betrayal was inevitable. Why would this be the case? Well, simply put, because the Sith Empire had suggested it. The Sith didn't surrender and didn't sue for peace. It was as illogical as the RRM laundering money from a secret underground lair, or the Jedi having a 'Chamber of Judgement' within which they cast down punishment on those they believed evil.
That would be madness wouldn't it?
As such, she could be easily identified in the meeting room as the one third-from-the-centre of the Jedi's side of the long rectangular table. Whose eyes were darting around the room, looking for the slightest hint of treachery. The one who looked to be in her early forties with the shortish, shaggy brown hair, skin the colour of sand and Mirialan tattoos forming two horizontal lines under her eyes like warpaint. She wore a long black overdress with the occasional glimpse of red underneath and a rare scowl as she surveyed the assemblage across the table.
Naturally, the mightiest of Dark Lords himself, Darth Bane, was in the centre. An imposing, yet strikingly subdued man who seemed completely at ease with the world. His recent decision to grow a beard and neatly combed hair was considered by Master Reivzx a blatant attempt to garner public support by looking more cultured and civilised. To Bane's right sat Lord Githany, a beautiful, raven-haired woman whose slight smile gave the impression that she was struggling to take this seriously – only serving to further fuel Zourvux's suspicion.
To Githany's right was an array of infamous and powerful Lords, all responsible in some way or other for immesurable damage and pain to the galaxy at large.
On Bane's left was something... decidedly wrong. Looking at it was hard, most found it disturbing and so were drawn to the white mask in the centre,the figure's only discernible feature... All else was just a dark shape. By all appearances it appeared to be straining against some unseen barrier, as if it wanted nothing more to leap out of the chair. This... thing was named Darth Nihilus.
To Nihilus' right, looking entirely like she wanted to be anywhere but in this very seat was someone unfamiliar to most of the attendants.
Unlike Githany who just didn't bother using it, Trawlar Melar had yet to earn her Darth name, despite having several very noticeable achievements. An imposing woman who, when standing, had to duck under most doorways and had the general physique of a tree trunk. What also made her stand out was that she was the only Sith at the table to be of the Sith species as well as the tradition. The crimson skin and facial lobes of all native Sith, combined with the fact that most people didn't want to look at the thing next to her meant that more than a few heads on Reivzx's side of the table turned her way. Personally, Zourvux was curious as to why Melar was even here. She hadn't even heard of her before now.
Further past her were, again, more great and terrible Dark Lords. The main notable absence was one Darth Tempest, who had been missing in action for some time. Perhaps the catalyst for whatever this was.
Master Yoda, in the centre on Reivzx's side spoke up, his long floppy ears quirked as he spoke. "Realise, you do Darth Bane, that difficult to trust this apparent change of heart is? Yes?"
Melar twitched.
"Well," replied Bane in a deep baritone. "I would hardly call it a change of heart, this war has simply gotten pointless. We have been fighting and killing each other for almost two millennia now with no meaningful progress, I quite understand if you think that we haven't committed quite enough pointless slaughter yet," He made as if to rise.
"That's not what he said!" snapped two other councillors - Zourvux's longstanding friend, Tyvokka and Chief Librarian Nu simultaneously. Or, to be more exact, Master Nu snapped whereas Tyvokka, as a Wookiee, just growled his Shyriiwook equivalent. Fortunately, Master Windu was able to clarify in his ever calm and reasonable way.
"What Master Yoda said was that we want peace, but only if you give us some reassurance you won't just shove it up our ass at the first opportunity."
Melar twitched again. A small smile formed on Bane's face. "With such elegant rhetoric I can hardly refuse an open negotiation now." He settled back into his seat and levelled his gaze piercingly at Yoda, "Let us discus terms, then." He smiled. Like a tiger.
Several things happened in a blur of motion.
First, Melar leapt from her seat across the table. A dazzling white-bladed lightsaber ignited in her hand as she almost flew at Yoda.
Second, White met red as Melar's blade was intercepted by that of Master Sharad Hett's, the blue robed Tusken Raider having flung himself from Yoda's immediate left to shield him.
Third, the Dark Lord Belia Darzu's arm swiftly extended like putty. It shot up the table, wrapped around Melar's leg and yanked her along the table to the end, away from Yoda.
Silence.
And then every remaining lightsaber in the room ignited, forming a lethal rainbow on each side of the table. Even Master Omo Bouri, despite lacking limbs and bent with old age, levitated his own pink double-bladed lightsaber. Even the ancient and revered Master T'un, famed for not using a lightsaber, was standing in a ready stance. All except Bane and Yoda.
"This is my reassurance," smirked Bane as he reached out a hand in Melar's direction. To her credit she didn't flinch, spitting at him in lieu.
"How? How? HowHowHOWHOW? Can you betray us all like this!? Why are all of you,"- she gestured to the other Sith assembled- "Going along with this shit? Killing the Jedi is all that has ever mattered! Why are you throwing that away?"
Again, silence.
"Practicality." This time it was another Dark Lord, a green-skinned Theelin by the name of Darth Phobos, who spoke, gazing coldly at Melar, as she did everyone. Melar never got a chance to reply as she was hoisted up by an unseen force at Bane's command and thrown through the window at the end of the room. She appeared almost comical as she suddenly realised gravity was pulling her very insistently downwards. Then she fell rapidly out of sight down the 500 Republica tower.
A moment passed, none of the lightsabers switched off.
"Those who object to our side of the peace treaty will be dealt with in much the same way," Bane continued as if an assassination attempt had not just been made by one of his own party. "Now, perhaps we can return to civility and discuss withdrawal arrangements for our respective military campaigns?" The Sith all extinguished their lightsabers and returned to their seats or standing positions behind their respective masters. None of the Jedi moved; all remained standing battle ready.
"So... does this mean the truce is off?" Githany cracked an eyebrow, breaking the silence and tenting her hands under her chin, "Because if so I really feel the need – the need to kill something."
"Githany," said Bane sternly. "You gave me your word."
Githany smiled slyly - with teeth, "Don't worry; I'm not starting anything. But seriously, if we're having a fight, please tell me right away. I call the Korun." She gave a jab of the finger at Master Windu to illustrate. Bane shot her a look and she was silent. She did not stop smirking, however.
"Apologies," said Bane. "now can we all calm down and talk about this?" And there was that same feline smile again.
Slowly, cautiously, three lowered their lightsabers, switched them off and, in the case of two, as Master Bouri's species wasn't biologically capable of getting up in the first place, took their seats once more. After a moment, a pair followed suit. Then T'un sat down, followed immediately by Tyvokka stowing his yellow blade and sitting. Master Hett got off the table and retook his seat at the same time as Master Nu.
Finally, three, including Master Windu and Zourvux were left standing.
"Masters, the rest of the council has voted against you," Master Bouri croaked in his stuttering guttural drawl, "There is no point making further delay, if you'd be so kind."
Two resumed their seats. Zourvux appeared to be still thinking about it, "Zourvux..." intoned one of her compatriots. Reivzx seemed to snap out of her reverie as, after directing a glare at a particular Dark Lord by the name of Mutanous, who simply smiled her mysterious smile, she too sat down.
"Excellent." Bane smacked his lips and tented his fingers over his chest, "let us get down to business..."
"I'm thinking of leaving the high council."
This took Tyvokka rather aback. The Wookiee turned face her. It had been several hours now, since the meeting had concluded - and it had done so well, with solid and firm agreement on many topics of the armistice.
You are? he growled, Sore about the treaty?
"Hardly." came Zourvux' reply. "I'm on the Council of First Knowledge now, it's just hard to manage both duties. They're getting in the way too much, one has to go. The children are more important to me."
Fair enough, came the return growl. Any ideas who'll replace you?
"No idea. Niether Adim nor Saesee're quite experienced enough, Loton will never take it if he's offered it and Halsey has the same problem as me. Probably some young maverick."
Like you?
That got him a snort.
"When have I been a maverick?"
Malak?
"Only slightly."
You dropped a Star Destroyer on his palace...
"With help – I was 17! I was young and sprightly..."
All she got was a chuckle at that. A moment's silence passed as they both stared out at the lights of Coruscant's cityscape from the glass of the moonlit council chamber. Eventually, the Wookiee broke the silence again.
This planet doesn't have long left, does it?
"No, it doesn't," a melancholy smile crept onto Zourvux' face, "Won't be long until everyone has to leave, or be drowned in our own waste."
How long?
"With the filtration systems still failing, 20 years. Optimistically."
And still no leads on somewhere to house the order?
"Not a one."
They both continued to stare out at the cityscape in silence.
A long time ago, in a a galaxy far far away...
Star Wars:
Nobody Dies:
Episode I:
The Antilles Gambit
It is an uncertain time for the
Galaxy. After almost two
millennia of constant
warfare, the SITH EMPIRE
under DARTH BANE has
brokered a peace treaty with
the GALACTIC REPUBLIC and
their allies THE JEDI ORDER.
Despite initial suspicion of
their foes, both sides have held
to the armistice for almost
seventeen years. More pressingly
for the Republic and the Jedi,
their capital planet of Coruscant
is suffocating under over thirty
thousand years of air pollution.
With all options exhausted, a
full evacuation has been
ordered. Jedi Padawan BULTAR
SWAN is one of many awaiting the
final stages of the mass exodus
when she receives her
first solo mission...
Chapter I: Ignition
Space above Coruscant was never silent, the planet below more so. It was not a pretty thing, all lights, metal and fumes. Bultar Swan was not going to miss it. The short, raven-haired Kuati girl of eighteen years sidled lazily along the metal corridor – no wait, she knew this... passageway. Yes, she remembered now: there are no corridors on a ship, only passageways. Strictly speaking, this was a space station but as far as Bultar was concerned they were all the same. At the moment she busied herself with preparations for take-off, the usual: stow loose objects, make sure one's own belongings were in one's own cabin and trying not to think about the howling emptiness that would soon be beneath her. Another rumble and a clang, louder than most, as the station detached from its mooring and Bultar leant on the bulkhead until the nausea passed. There were now hovering in the dock. Soon they would ascend from ground level, out of the atmosphere in search of a new home. Bultar really hoped that didn't take long. The very thought of living in this station for years on end was... not appealing.
"Attention Younglings. Attention Padawans. Attention Apprentices. Attention Masters. The Ouran is now untethered. I repeat, The Ouran is now untethered. Lift-off will occur in fifteen minutes. Please return to your cabins and secure any loose items. When you have finished please proceed to the rotunda."
The ever-reassuring, ever-South-Mirialan voice of Master Reivzx sounded over the PA. After a moment she began to repeat the message until she suddenly cut across herself: "By 'secure all loose articles' I do not mean 'Toss them on your bed'..." there was a pause, "yes, you, Sian..." another pause, "Because your door is wide open, I can see your cabin across the hall."
Bultar tuned out the remainder of the unusual argument and ambled along the final few meters to the laundry collection room and scanned the drawstring bags for her name.
"Here," came a gruff voice from behind her accompanied by just such a bag dropped into her arms, causing her heart rate to shoot off the scale.
"K'Kruhk! Never do that again!" Bultar rounded on the Whiphid - which would normally seem like an extremely brave thing to do, (what with the tusks and all) unless you remembered that K'Kruhk was a total teddy bear. His impressive size and shaggy, brown fur filled more or less the entire doorway. Never one to do things by halves, his full set of grey robes was topped off with a long brown cloak - not something most padawans bothered with unless on a mission.
K'Kruhk held his hands up in apology, "Sorry, forgot you hate space-"
"I. Don't. Hate. Space. Travel," came her interjection through gritted teeth.
"Right, and I'm not obsessed with water. Anyway, thought I'd bring you your laundry when I was getting mine, but you weren't in your room,"
"Thanks, I guess. Just please don't sneak up on me again."
"I'll try not to," came the reply with a winning smile. (Whiphid smiles look... odd) "Anyway I'm all shut and battened down; y'mind if I come with or you still got more to do?"
Bultar shrugged, "I'm pretty much done - just gotta put these away."
They went back down the passageway to Bultar's cabin where she stowed her bag, K'Kruhk making sure to stomp heavily so as not to 'surprise' Bultar again. On their way to the Rotunda they were confronted by a decidedly miffed Master Che. The Twi'Lek Chief Healer told K'Kruhk in no uncertain terms that he was rocking the ship and if he 'didn't stop his incessant pounding there would be unpleasant consequences'. A rather sheepish K'Kruhk profusely apologised and the two continued further on as Master Che called after them.
"The Ouran does most certainly not need almost a ton of adolescent Whiphid thumping up and down thank you very much."
"That was your fault," he muttered to Bultar, who chuckled, then immediately realised by his sudden grin what he was really after.
"Dammit, you knew that would cheer me up didn't you!"
"... Maybe," Bultar's only response was to sulk but her heart wasn't honestly in it. K'Kruhk was hard to stay angry at. He was also annoyingly good at reading her.
"Sian, if I have to, I WILL come in there and monitor you. I've got time, but I'm betting you don't want to have to explain to everyone why you held us all up... Yeah. That's what I thought," With her victory secured, Zourvux shut the door to the Instructors' quarters with a thud before marching back to the armchairs where three other Masters sat. Master Tera Sinube, a hunch-backed cosian with white hair, was getting very old indeed now. Master Kossex was a Weequay and as such looked about as old as Tera, despite being less than half his age, thanks to her heavily wrinkled skin. Master Sora Bulq, also a Weequay, looked somewhat more graceful than Kossex, his beady eyes peering out from his face merrily.
"We really need to find her a master," sighed Tera as he stretched like an aged nexu after a hard night's hunt, leaning back in the armchair opposite Zourvux.
"K'Kruhk would probably work well with her..." Kossex supplied from the window seat with her gruff, croaky voice.
"Needs to finish his own apprenticeship first," said Bulq in his trademark soft, gentle whisper, "I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself there."
"Come on Sora, we both know Lilit is more or less done with him," put in Zourvux with a knowing grin, "He's got, what? One more trial to pass?"
"True but it's never too late to fail, or succeed for that matter," Sora smiled back before continuing, "In any case whether or not K'Kruhk will take a padawan, much less Youngling Jeisel is out of our hands. I suggest keeping our focus on the evacuation for now,"
"Good point," said Tera, as made to get up.
"No, Tera, I think you've worked yourself enough today - have a rest," insisted Sora.
"Why, I'm not dead yet! I just move a little slower," the Cosian retorted jokingly.
"Because, my equine friend, contrary to your belief there is such a thing as overexertion."
"Oh fine, fine," Tera relented and slumped back in his seat. In less than three seconds his eyes had closed and he had drifted off to a contented looking slumber. With a small smile Sora rose, strode over to the PA and held the button.
"Attention. Could R3-K9, I repeat R3-K9, report to his mistress in the Instructors' quarters. Thank you."
"You know something, you should do all the PA announcements, your voice is so meditative. Well I'm off to help Vokara, she's inventorying our supplies," With this, Kossex stood up and headed for the door.
"Don't be late to the rotunda," warned Zourvux.
"Oh don't worry, you'll see my ugly mug there in five," and with that, she left.
A minute or two later, the door opened again to admit a silver astromech droid with a red sensor and a clear dome with silver panelling.
"Oh - K9, good. Would you mind doing a final check on all cabins before we take off?" asked Zourvux from her chair, receiving a string of beeps as a reply, "Well, if anyone's lagging behind give them - oh, I don't know, a zap or something." she responded.
More beeping, longer this time.
"No, not literally - just ask them to hurry up."
After a much shorter round of beeping from the droid, he left.
"Still can't get him to understand sarcasm?" asked Sora.
"You have no idea," she replied darkly. "Well, we'd best get going – it'd be rather embarrassing If we were late." With that, they both rose and left.
Bultar wasn't quite sure what happened.
One moment she was pretty sure she and K'Kruhk had been going... somewhere, next: dizzy, blurry, silence and a dull ache in her head. Her vision swam as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
Indistinct colours, shapes.
Slowly it got a little clearer, less blurry. She could make out... a face? Yes, she decided, a face. Dark skin, humanish maybe. The face got clearer, slowly. Painstakingly, ever so slowly.
Human; there was a headdress, a familiar headdress.
Tholothian.
Zaori? Aishintu?
Yes, Aishintu.
Young, old, or in the middle?
Young.
About her age by the looks of it
She could make out the eyes now... Violet eyes.
Suddenly it clicked.
"DAMN IT STASS!"
Her vision came rushing back to normal, along with her hearing and higher brain functions. Then the pain got worse.
The face belonged to Stass Allie, of course.
"Would it kill you not to run everywhere?" Bultar moaned, clutching her head.
"I didn't wanna be late," Stass said, biting her lip and picking herself up off Bultar, "Sorry."
"Yeah well, now we'll be on time but in pain."
"Well look on the bright side, 'least you're still conscious... Sorry," Stass said again. K'Kruhk shook his head and hoisted Bultar off the floor.
"Let's just keep going; Stass, could you do some of your healing on the way?" he said as he moved off down the passageway now supporting Bultar.
"Sure, okay Bultar, just hold still... and keep walking..."
For someone who had just caused her friend bodily harm, Stass was being a little too upbeat as far as Bultar was concerned – or maybe that was just the pain talking.
"Do I have a choice?" she managed to groan out.
"Um... no?" Stass said as she laid her hands on either side of Bultar's head with a look of concentration.
A moment later her hands glowed faintly and the pain began to ebb a little before suddenly vanishing.
"Aah, yeah. Much better... Still dizzy though."
"Sorry," again.
'Well at least you look sorry,' Bultar thought, her annoyance diminished.
Within the minute she was able to walk without relying on the galaxy's hairiest crutch and by the time they arrived at the rotunda her injury had ceased to exist. The rotunda itself was an extremely large but well-lit room in the centre of the Ouran's top deck, with seating in levels around the entire edge with more in the middle and a stage in the centre. The ceiling was a domed skylight that allowed a view of two of Coruscant's four moons hanging in the evening sky. Its normal use would be for presentations and demonstrations but right now it was an excellent congregation point to account for everyone. Most of the room was already filled with just under a thousand people. K'Kruhk suddenly snorted.
"What's so funny?" asked Stass.
"Just thought of how beside herself Master Mahn will be over making sure we don't leave someone behind."
Stass giggled at that, "oh, good lord she really does care too much sometimes."
She suddenly stopped and assumed a very straight face. K'Kruhk looked ahead and also stopped. Bultar followed their gaze and saw Master Hanta, clad all in his usual black, glaring at them. Apparently he was directing people coming in through this entrance and from the look on his face Bultar was almost certain he'd heard Stass. They all waited with bated breath.
"Second to top row. Find your masters. They're already waiting for you."
Hardly daring to believe their luck they walked as fast as possible around the edge to the steps and began to climb. When she was certain Hanta was out of earshot Bultar released a breath she hadn't even realised she was holding.
"How did we get away with that?"
"That was the longest three seconds of my life," came K'Kruhk's reply. Stass, on the other hand was in denial as they reached their row.
"That was too close, we almost pissed off the Dark Master. No one fucks with the Dark Master. How did that just happen?"
"My advice," came a dry, suave voice from just ahead, "don't let him catch you calling him that. You pushed your luck as it is."
The voice in question belonged to a Tusken Raider and fellow apprentice by the name of A'Sharad Hett. Like all Tusken Raiders, A'Sharad was clad from head to toe in traditional Tusken coverings, with beige robes over the top. None of them had ever seen what lay beneath.
"What did you do anyway?" He asked as they sat down just past him, "Why'd he hold you up?"
"We may have made a joke about Master Mahn," said K'Kruhk. A'Sharad stared at them. "To his face?"
"We didn't know he was there," added Stass.
On A'Sharad's other side, Xiaan Amersu (who was most certainly not listening in) buried her face in her hands. Xiaan was a Twi'Lek, tall for her age and had skin a light beige colour. She also had the laziest version of Jedi robes of the bunch - tunic, undershirt, trousers, boots, all brown.
"You know considering that you're all a year or two older than us, I would have thought you'd pay more attention."
The discussion probably would have gone on longer if not for their masters in the row behind beginning to take interest.
"Bultar, what did you do?" came Micah Giiett's accusatory tone. He was a short, olive-skinned human. His short hair had bald vertical lines buzzed from each temple.
"Nothing Master," she quickly said and even more quickly changed the subject. Giving A'Sharad a good kick when he didn't initially get it.
"So A'Sharad, I don't think you ever told me how come your name is almost the same as your dad's."
"Oh, uh yeah. Well you see, after he left the order..."
"It's so fun when they think we're not paying attention." Micah put his arms behind his head and leaned back.
"Yeah, I mean sometimes it seems like Stass doesn't realise I have the capability of hearing" replied Knight Coleman Kcaj in his decidedly northern voice, making him sound much older than he was. Coleman is an Ongree. I haven't the faintest idea how to describe Ongree.
"Hehehe, suckers. K'Kruhk hardly ever gives me this kinda trouble," said Master Lilit Twoseas, a blonde human, who was sitting between them, "How's your apprentice getting on anyway; I hardly see you anymore."
"Doing well," answered Coleman, his voice dropping to a low tone, "Still some kinks to iron out though."
"Like what?" asked Micah, his voice matching Coleman's.
"That's between her, me, Agen and Adi."
Stass twitched.
"Ah, okay then," said Micah before directing his next question to Lilit. "Any thoughts on K'Kruhk's final trial?"
"A few ideas, but nothing ferrocrete yet," came her quiet reply.
"Which trial is it?" asked Coleman.
"Flesh," replied Lilit dispassionately. Micah sat up with interest while Coleman grimaced. The grimace of an Ongree is an extremely bizarre thing to witness.
"That's the only one Stass has passed so far. Could have been uglier, but it was still hard on her," he replied.
"They're never pleasant affairs; took me until my fourth apprentice to learn that," added Micah, "though personally I think you should never leave them till last."
"I really shouldn't have put it off this long, I know," she replied.
"The Trial of the Flesh or getting a better haircut?" smirked Knight J'Mikel. The stooping Anx with a rather impressive crest settled into the space on Micah's right.
"There is nothing wrong with my hair," retorted Lilit icily, "and where have you been anyway- Apprentice Amersu was here ages ago."
"I was double checking a lead on Aurra Sing. Looked promising, so I sent it to Peerce to look over. By the way, a pudding basin with plaits is everything wrong with your hair."
"How can you judge hair style? You don't even have hair."
A bluish tint began to grow on J'Mikel's crest before suddenly turning grey as he leant back and laughed.
"Oh, you make it too easy sometimes. Anyway, Adi said we'll be starting any moment now so how's about we just take it easy and get comfortable, huh?"
Stass twitched again.
Bultar suddenly noticed something - or rather a lack of someone - as she looked up at J'Mikel's comment. "Hey, A'Sharad. Where's your master?"
"She's... not exactly held in high esteem by many in the order. She didn't think it was a good idea to be here."
"Why?"
"You don't know?" said Xiaan, "His master's The Dark Woman."
"Wait, seriously?" she stared at A'Sharad before lowering her voice, "Are you... okay? Did-"
"I'm fine," snapped A'Sharad, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't ask about it."
"But are the rumours true? Does she-"
"Drop it," said Xiaan firmly, "This is why he didn't tell you before; he knew how you'd react."
Bultar stared at them, confusion growing. She was however prevented from pressing the matter further by the arrival of Agen Kolar, a dark-skinned Zabrak with dotted tattoos and a long mane of even darker hair. He squeezed past them and took the empty space between Stass and Obi-Wan Kenobi – who was chatting with Siri Tachi, a pale-skinned, human girl with long blonde hair – and paying absolutely no attention to Stass.
"What kept you?" asked Stass, turning to face him as she perked up again.
"I lost my lightsaber."
Stass gaped at him, "What?"
"I don't want to talk about it"
She shrugged as Master Norcuna sat down in the row behind, behind Agen, with a slightly fading scowl. The straight-backed light blue Twi'Lek looked as if he wanted to say something to Agen, but was prevented by the P.A.
"Attention. Attention. Anyone remaining standing please take your seats. Ignition is imminent and lift off will occur in approximately two minutes."
That brought Bultar's attention back to the evacuation. Feeling the nerves build inside her again she desperately tried not to shake.
"I love it when Master Bulq is on the PA; It's like listening to benevolence itself," sighed K'Kruhk as he smiled at Bultar, he must have noticed some of her nerves because he then added, "You'll be fine, trust me."
Bultar forced herself to smile back. She had to distract herself somehow. Looking down towards the centre of the rotunda she spotted Master Mahn, who was indeed checking off names on a console by the stage with a slightly frantic look on her face. That would do. She elbowed K'Kruhk and pointed down at her. K'Kruhk smiled at her and chuckled. This wasn't working, she still couldn't get the thought of shooting into the sky in less than two minutes now out of her head. She tried not to shake as the engine's rumbled.
"Ignition."
The entire Council of First Knowledge had gathered round the console Master Mahn had been using. Bultar hadn't even noticed Micah get up and leave, yet there he was with the others. She saw R3-K9, Master Reivzx' droid, enter from the north entrance and stop at the Councillors. Apparently he told them something they had been waiting to hear because they all separated to take seats. Those with apprentices sat behind their apprentices in the higher rows. Those without sat, along with the other apprentice-less instructors at evenly spaced points among the younglings in the seating near the stage. Bultar saw master Reivzx raise a comlink in her hand.
"Lift off in one minute. I would like to remind you that the gravitational field generators of an interstellar space station cannot be safely turned on until we escape orbit, so getting up would be rather foolish. Admittedly funny, so feel free but it's your problem if you do."
'Okay Bultar, just breathe. Nothing bad can happen. There are too many safeties. There are inertia fields to stop us going flying. The air recycling system is fool proof. Nothing to worry about... Absolutely. Completely and utterly nothing.'
"Twenty seconds," sounded an automated voice.
'What! What happened to one minute? Okay breathe, breathe,' Her face grew paler as her breathing increased and her hands gripped the underside of the seating. Her nails, eroded from a full day's worth of apprehension, dug into the cushion. K'Kruhk reached down to one of her hands and prised it off, holding it firmly.
"Don't let go," she whispered.
He nodded back, "I look after my friends."
"Ten."
'What the-'
"Nine"
'No,' She began to shake.
"Eight"
'I want off.'
"Seven"
'Fuck, shit, shit, kriff, fuck, kriffing shit.'
"Six"
'Nononononono-' suddenly, without warning, K'Kruhk yanked her into one of his giant bear hugs.
'Oh.'
Safe.
Her arms quickly returned the hug, holding on with all her might. She could hardly hear the countdown now. Barely felt the surge of upward thrust as they ascended - surprisingly gently - into the sky. Then she felt the pull of gravity increasing, the nausea that came with it and the general feeling of all her insides being dragged down to her pelvis. She was quite glad of K'Kruhk right now, without him wasn't sure she could stop herself freaking out. After about half an hour The Ouran's umbrella shaped hull pierced the upper cloud-line, the skylight's glass tinting darker automatically to protect against the now visible sun. Bultar's nausea began to ease slightly and her death-grip lessened on K'Kruhk. Ten minutes after that, the Ouran picked up speed and in a further two minutes it had left the atmosphere. Within seconds the nausea vanished as gravity returned. Master Yoda had stood now - not that it made much difference - and raised his comlink.
"Activated, the gravity generators have been. Rise and stretch a good idea, it would be to - if joints, you happen to have."
Slowly, Bultar extricated herself from K'Kruhk's voluminous mass.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
"Hey, I told you: I look after my friends," he responded with a grin.
Bultar looked around. More or less everyone was getting up and wondering off. A'Sharad, Xiaan, Stass and Agen were already waiting for them at the end of the row.
"Sorry about that," Bultar said nervously when she and K'Kruhk caught up. They just shrugged.
"Don't worry about it," said Agen and they began to make their way down the steps to the floor.
"Okay, celebration time," said Xiaan, who proceeded to fill her lungs and then yell, "PANCAKES! PANCAKES FOR ALL!"
"Sounds like a plan," added K'Kruhk gleefully.
"Apprentice K'Kruhk, Apprentice Allie," came Master Hanta's voice over the PA, "Report to Master Mahn's office immediately to speak with Masters Hanta and Mahn."
Stass and K'Kruhk stared at each other, identical looks of horror dawning on their faces. Just behind them, Master Kcaj utterly failed to conceal his sniggering, while Master Twoseas shook her head and Master Giiett rolled his eyes.
"Fuck," muttered Stass.