The mirror – Landing bay – The corridor – Oops!
Enosh knocked on the door.
"Enter."
He opened the door into the small cabin. Bastila stood with her back to him, studying herself in a full-length wall mirror. Her eyes glanced at his reflection in the glass. A hair tie was dangling from her mouth while she worked on a braid.
"What, are you expecting a reception on board that ship?" Enosh quipped, entering the room and closing the door behind him.
"Very funny," she muttered, transferring the tie to her hand, then adroitly maneuvering it onto the braid she'd worked. "We Jedi are the very public representatives of a revered, honored institution," she said, studying herself in the mirror, fidgeting with her collar. "By presenting ourselves to the best of our abilities, we dignify all that the Council stand for." She studied his reflection. "You'd do well to remember that occasionally, Enosh."
He found himself fidgeting before her stern gaze, wondering if he had a button undone somewhere. "We're talking about a derelict freighter in the middle of nowhere, Bastila," he replied, making a conscious effort not to look over himself.
"True. But this is where habit is so useful. Habit, if properly utilized, can be of enormous use in ensuring one is always prepared." She pulled out her lightsaber hilt and studied it closely.
"So this is your life? Habit, duty, rules, structure?"
"It is the Jedi life, yes," she replied. The hilt spun with practiced ease in her right hand.
"But surely there's more to being a Jedi than this? A meaning beneath the externalities?"
"Of course, certainly. But those 'externalities' are in place for a reason, to help shape and focus us on our responsibilities and actions." She put away the hilt and studied his image in the mirror. "Come now, you didn't follow me just to comment on my fastidiousness."
"You should stay on board the Ebon Hawk."
"No."
"What happened to duty and responsibility?"
"Yes, you are the leader of this mission, Enosh. I defer to you in all things." She turned around to face him. "But you are also the most important person on board this ship, and it would be unconscionable for me not to do my utmost to protect you, your feelings on the matter notwithstanding."
"I could swear we had this same exact conversation a few hours ago. Do you happen to recall how it went? Something about not being a little girl?"
She just stared at him, unyielding.
"Besides, I'm pretty dangerous with a lightsaber myself."
"I never meant to imply you weren't. But sometimes we must do things we do not wish to, because of the grand picture, the ultimate goal. For whatever reason, you are the key to any hopes we might entertain to defeating Malak. Everything pales before that. Everything."
The door closed quietly as Enosh left, finally acceding to her request.
She turned back to the mirror, the words she'd tossed out to Enosh returning home to reverberate within her mind. …Must do things we do not wish to…the ultimate goal…
Does the end justify the means?
Her reflection held no answers.
As the Ebon Hawk slowly approached the landing bay, they could see a small spherical ship sitting on the floor of the bay, up against the wall opposite the landing bay entrance.
"Any activity on that little ship?" Enosh asked.
"Nothing," Bastila replied, looking at her scanners. "No power, no life."
"Looks as small as an escape pod," Carth added. "It can't have any range, unless the tech is way beyond what the Republic has."
"So maybe a maintenance vehicle?"
"Could be, but the design certainly doesn't seem to match the freighter, as far as I can see."
As the Hawk neared the landing bay, Enosh noticed what appeared to be an observation deck overlooking the entrance. He could see through the windows into the interior of the deck, but nothing appeared to be moving within the few pools of light visible.
The observation deck drifted out of sight above as the Hawk entered the entrance. Lights suddenly blinked and a buzzing noise squawked through the cockpit.
"Proximity warnings," Bastila said, hitting the audio cutout to save them from the racket. "I'm seeing a max of eight meters clearance, top and bottom each. Lateral's no issue. Lateral drift looks good; less than 1 centimeter per second. Longitudinal is… 5 meters per second, decel of 0.2."
"This is going to be a tight squeeze," Carth said, gripping the control yoke. "Hang on."
Enosh looked over Bastila's shoulder, where she had a display of the side projection of the Hawk gliding slowly through the rectangle that was the landing bay's entrance.
"Fine attitude jets armed," Bastila said.
"Come on, nice and easy," Carth muttered, his eyes locked on the primary control display right above the yoke. "Gear down."
"Gear down," Bastila repeated, pulling a lever.
Enosh could feel the ship shift ever so slightly as the gear were deployed. Then there was a light feeling of weightlessness, then a soft thump as they landed on the landing bay floor.
The air in the bay was musty but breathable. The lights were dim but steady.
They stood well back from the Ebon Hawk as it gently hovered up off the deck of the bay, gradually slipped back through the pressurization field, and into space.
"Be careful in there," Carth said through Enosh's earpiece.
"Always," he replied back, waving at the Hawk one last time.
He turned to see Mission already walking around the little ship over by the wall. He sighed to himself; so much for telling everyone to be careful!
Mission saw him looking at her and waved him over to the side of the ship hidden from his view. "Enosh, think I found the door into this thing!"
They walked over and saw an opening beckoning before them.
"Mission!" Bastila reprimanded.
"Hey, lay off, will you? Between you and Carth… sheesh! It was already like this when I got here!" And without further ado she scrambled inside.
Bastila sighed.
"This ship looks familiar to me," Canderous said, walking up to Enosh's side. "A typical short-range shuttle, used on the Outer Rims by a multitude of civilizations."
"Nothing distinguishing about it?" Enosh asked.
"No. Common as the air we're breathing."
Mission poked her head out. "It's pretty crowded inside."
"Yeah, this looks like it could barely fit three inside," Canderous said.
"Nothing of interest," Mission said as she emerged. "Lots of writing that I couldn't make out."
Canderous poked his head in to look. "I don't recognize the glyphs, either," he said.
"Query: What's the plan now, Master?" asked HK-47.
"Should be simple enough. Something as powerful as a hyperspace damping field generator is probably in one of the cargo holds. We go rummaging around in the cargo holds until we find it, and turn it off."
There was only one corridor leading away from the bay, which went a short distance before intersecting a long, wide hallway at right angles.
"This must be the central axis of the ship," Canderous said, peering into the gloom. "Unusually tall and wide; space is usually at a premium in bulk freighters like these."
"Perhaps to allow internal loading?" Enosh speculated. He estimated the corridor to be six meters high at its peak, and at least twelve wide. "Perhaps there's a loading ramp in the back?"
"I guess that's possible," the Mandalorian said. "And based on the orientation outside, I'm going to guess engines to the right, bridge to the left."
"There might be maps in the bridge," Mission said.
"My thoughts, too," said Enosh. "OK, off to the bridge we go."
The hallway was periodically broken up by open doorways, which probably served as ways to isolate portions of the ship in case of depressurization and damage. There were periodically wide doors to the sides, but none were open.
"Skip it for now, Mission," Enosh said as the Twi'lek approached one such door. "We'll see if there's anything in the bridge that can help us, first."
"You know," Canderous said, "now that we've been walking around in here for a while, something about this freighter seems familiar to me. Not this freighter in particular, but something about the layout, the glyphs on the wall…"
"Artifacts of yet another civilization you've helped extinguish from the Galaxy?" Bastila asked. "They all do tend to blur after a while, don't they?"
Enosh cringed inside… not again! It was bad enough with Carth, and he always got the uncertain feeling that Juhani also had some sort of grudge with the Mandalorian… but Bastila somehow never seemed to grow tired of voicing her disapproval of Canderous. Or anything else, come to think of it.
She'd obviously been hoping to get a reaction out of Canderous, but she just as obviously didn't know him very well.
"Yes, they all do," Canderous smiled. "They all do."
"Observation: I envy you, sir," HK-47 interjected. Enosh suppposed that if it were possible for a droid to be infatuated, HK-47 was that droid right now.
"Someday that fate will befall Mandalore as well," Canderous continued, thoughtfully. "Perhaps the decline has already started, I don't know. But it was certainly glorious while it lasted."
"Back to the original topic," Enosh said before either Bastila or HK-47 could respond. "You were saying this seemed familiar?"
"Yeah. I've been on many a raiding expedition onto many an enemy vessel." He chuckled. "Of course, they've never been as quiet and peaceful as this one!"
"And?"
"And this all somehow seems familiar. I'll have to think it over a little more, Enosh. Keep your Jedi at bay and I'll try to remember."
Bastila pointedly ignored the comment.
The long, straight hallway ended at a large, open doorway into what looked like the control center of the ship. A few dim lights were on, but all the displays were off. The cockpit windows were shuttered by shielding of some type.
"Looks like we found the bridge," Enosh called into his portable comm, as they entered and spread out. "How's it going out there?"
"Nothing new to report," Carth replied.
Suddenly the sole door out of the control room slammed shut.
"Oops!"
Bastila turned on Mission. "What do you mean, 'oops!'?"
"I… I accidentally pushed this button… I'msorryIdidn'tmeanto..."
"Idiot Twi'lek!" growled Canderous. "We should have left you back on the ship!"
Zaalbar moved with terrifying speed across the room, to suddenly appear next to the Mandalorian.
"Hey, I was just voicing an opinion," he said, lifting his hands to show the enraged Wookiee that there was nothing in them. "And I'm sure I'm not the only one; I'm just the only one who had the guts to say it!"
"You are a very cruel man," Bastila replied.
"No, I'm just a very honest man," he replied.
"It's okay, Big Z," Mission said. Reluctantly, the Wookiee backed off.
"Mission," Bastila said as gently as possible, as everyone else started to assemble around the closed door, "you need to be more careful in the future."
"Yes, Bastila."
"This technology is all very… very alien to us. It may seem harmless, but we shouldn't take any undue risk based on that assumption."
"Yes, Bastila," she repeated, eyes downcast. When Bastila turned away to gather with the others around the door, Mission stuck her tongue out at the Padawan's back.
"Do you think you can force it, HK-47?" Enosh asked the droid.
"Extrapolation: Yes, I think I can," the droid replied. The droid inserted its fingers into the thin vertical fissure between the two halves and pulled.
Nothing happened, and Enosh thought he could literally hear the actuators in HK-47's arms whine as it applied power to them.
"Conclusion: no," the droid sadly uttered, giving up the attempt. "Query: Shall I try my blasters, Master?"
"Those look like blaster doors to me," Canderous said. "Might end up frying us to a crisp if you did that, from the ricochets."
"Query: And are there any negative consequences to the attempt?"
"No, no, don't try," Enosh said hurriedly. "How about you, Zaalbar?"
The Wookiee tried as well, but his tremendous strength was useless without adequate leverage.
The dim control room was suddenly bathed in the bright light of a screen flaring to life.
"Observation: Multiple energy build up signatures detected," HK-47 intoned.
"Mission--!" Bastila exclaimed, turning around only to find the Twi'lek standing right behind her.
"Why are you so quick to blame me for everything, hmmm?"
"Save it for later," Enosh said, walking between the two of them to head off an argument, and to move over to the screen that had come to life.
The static on the screen disappeared, bringing into view a picture of a green-skinned, vaguely humanoid-looking being. Three black eyes blinked in random sequence, and a noise that sounded like clicks emerged from unseen speakers.
"This is new to me," Enosh said. "Anyone got any ideas?"
A star system was displayed on the screen, followed by quickly changing images of a variety of beings, none of whom Enosh had ever seen the likes of before.
Canderous suddenly snapped his fingers together. "The Collectors," he said.
"The who?" Enosh asked.
"The Collectors. A widespread nickname applied to them among some civilizations we, umm, encountered during our wars. We Mandalorians never encountered them directly on the Outer Rim, but we heard myths about them occasionally."
"And…?" prompted Bastila.
"The stories always mentioned that they have this penchant for collecting sentient beings from across the galaxy, to exhibit in some sort of zoo in their home system."
"And this must be their preferred manner for obtaining new zoo displays… trapping itinerant travelers along hyperspace lanes," Enosh concluded.
"Observation: Large-scale energy build up detected," HK-47 interjected. "I believe hyperspace engines have started to come on-line."
"Wonderful," said Mission. "So now we're going to be whisked halfway across the Galaxy, to end up locked up in cages somewhere, as the crowds go by."
"Unfortunately, no," Canderous said.
"What do you mean, 'unfortunately'?" asked Bastila.
"Well, if the stories about the Collectors are really true, then maybe the other stories I've heard about them are true as well. Namely, the ones about how their star system is a death trap now, owing to the fact that a nearby star went supernova, and the resultant collapse of said star just so happened to flood their system with enough high-energy electromagnetic radiation to completely wipe out their civilization in the blink of an eye."
"And any passing ships will be treated to a similar electromagnetic shower," finished Enosh.
"Exactly."