Chapter Eleven
"Do you know where we are, my friends?" Wes Jansen asked as they walked down the brightly lit halls of the Jedi Temple towards where the debriefing room was.
"The Jedi Temple," Hobbie responded, wondering where his exuberant friend was going with this.
"That's right, The Jedi Temple! No one but Jedi ever see this place!" he cried out, hardly containing the joy inside of him.
"Well, technically the Chancellor has seen this place," Wedge pointed out with a grin. "So has the Senator of Naboo."
"Yes, but they are either offspring or married to a Jedi!" Wes sighed. "They don't count. No, boys, we are the first outsiders this Temple has seen."
"I think you are taking this too far, Man," Hobbie sighed. "It's just a temple."
"A secret Temple!"
"Not anymore, technically," Wedge rolled his eyes. "What about you, Celchu? You as excited as Janson here about this place?"
"You have no idea, sir," Tycho laughed, shaking his head in awe at the place. "I hate to say it but I'm with Wes on this one."
"Shame," Wedge sighed. "I thought me and Hobbie had one more sane one in this group."
"What time is it?" Hobbie asked and Wedge glanced at his chrono.
"14:35 Coruscanti time," he said. "No idea what time it is here though. I'm thinking we're almost late to that meeting. Hey, where did they say it was again?"
"The debriefing room," Wes shrugged. "Dunno where that is."
They rounded a corner, hoping to either stumble across it or run into someone to tell them where they were. The halls were lined evenly with doors, leading Wedge to suspect they'd come across the quartering section. Not where they wanted to be at all. One of the doors slid open and a brown haired man stepped out, adjusting his flightsuit uncomfortably. He glanced their way and his face lit up with recognition.
"Hey, haven't seen you boys in forever!" Corran Horn greeted. "You guys lost?"
"Completely," Wedge laughed. "How 'ya doin' Corran?"
"Great until I found out I might get blown up today, you?" he asked with a smile and Wedge chuckled.
"Same," he shrugged. "Where's this meeting taking place anyway?"
"This way," Corran said, waving them down the hall. "So when did you all get here anyway?"
"About ten minutes ago," Wedge supplied. "Obviously it didn't take us long to get lost."
"Hey, no worries," Corran waved dismissively. "It's a big place and we don't exactly have many maps posted around."
"Yeah, no kidding," Wes mumbled under his breath. They followed the hallways for a few more twists and turns before they entered a large debriefing room, a central projector screen set up with two-dimensional schematics for the run on the battle station.
Luke stood near one of the back walls joking with Han when he caught sight of the men entering the room at that moment. A smile broke out on his face and he excused himself from the conversation best he could before jogging over to them.
"Hey! You guys are here! I figured you'd gotten lost amongst space debris or something it took you so long!" he joked. Wedge shook his head, stretching his arms out and hugging Luke briefly.
"And miss the big show? Nah," Wedge laughed. "How ya' doin' Luke?"
"Not so bad, you?"
"Been better," he shrugged.
"Better if we hadn't gotten lost," Wes laughed and Hobbie shook his head.
"When's this thing start, anyway?" Wedge asked, glancing around the room at all the different squadrons. They fit easily into the large hall, each with their helmets tucked somewhere under their arms, squadron logos brightly emblazoned on the side.
"As soon as my father gets here," Luke answered, glancing around himself. "Should be any moment now. There's my mother now."
"Kest, Luke," Wes let out a low whistle. "She's prettier than on the Holo."
"That's my mother, Janson," Luke shot back darkly, narrowing his eyes at the pilot.
"And a fine mother she is," Wes laughed. "C'mon, you know I don't date married women."
"It's a wonder anyone dates you, Janson," a female voice said, coming from the back of the group.
They turned and Wes grinned. "Aw, that's harsh, Jade. You know you're pining away for me."
Mara laughed and shook her head. "Find your seats, boys, meeting's starting in five."
"That's not a no," Wes smirked as Mara walked away, taking a seat next to Leia and Han near the front of the meeting. Luke watched her go, still smirking from her comment towards Wes. Wedge nudged him playfully, giving a knowing look to him. Luke stared at the pilot, eyes narrowed at the unspoken insinuation. He shook his head and took a seat in the back row, quickly followed by the rest of the group. Not more than a moment later did Luke's father enter the room, taking his place at the front of the meeting.
A hush fell over the crowd as everyone waited expectantly for the meeting to begin. Anakin ran a nervous hand through his hair, glancing around and seeing all the faces relying on him.
"Alright, I'm going to assume everyone is here and get this started since time is short," Anakin said. He nodded towards one of the techs to begin the display of the plans to the battle station. "This battle station is unlike anything you've fought against before, so no one should be expecting anything. Blaster Turrets line the surface with the intention to eliminate any threats. The entire station is surrounded with an energy shield, but according to the plans, one-manned fighters should be able to penetrate it with ease. The goal of this run is to locate and enter the trench that makes up the equator of the station, and follow it down to a small, meter wide exhaust port. There, a proton torpedo will be fired and sucked into the shaft, beginning a chain reaction in the core that will eliminate the station."
"Only a meter wide?" Wedge questioned under his breath. "Is that even possible?"
"Yeah, sure," Luke shrugged next to him. "I bulls-eye womp rats on Tatooine whenever I'm there. They're just under a meter wide. No problem."
"I wish I had your enthusiasm, Luke," Wedge shook his head.
"General Rieekan has informed me of your Y-Wings," Anakin continued. "They will make the run in the trench, flanked by two X-Wings and a Jedi Fighter. Stay in comm contact, and don't try any heroics. The goal is to eliminate this station with as few casualties as possible.
"I'll be up in the air with you, as well as the most talented pilots in the Order. The battle will be monitored and run by Chancellor Amidala-Skywalker and Masters Windu and Yoda. They will represent both sides to this joint effort. Keep chatter to a minimum on the comm, and stay sharp. May the Force be with you."
The pilots nodded and began to rise, most heading for the hangar bay to ready their ship. Luke frowned as he suddenly realized he didn't know whether or not he was flying with the Jedi or the Rogues. In all technicality, he was flying with both, the only difference a ship. Part of him longed to be apart of the Rogues full time, to fly the skies with them as a member, not a guest.
"Luke?" a voice called, shaking him out of his thoughts. He glanced over at Wedge, the man staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "You all right?"
"Yeah, fine," he mumbled out, shaking his head.
"You better get started modifying that X-Wing of yours if you want it ready for the fight," Wedge grinned. Luke's eyes widened for a moment before a broad smile took over his features. He hopped out of his seat and Wedge chuckled at his enthusiasm. They followed the rest of the pilots into the Hangar, everyone electrified with anticipation of the fight.
Slowly, the pilots peeled off down the rows of unloaded ships, sitting and waiting patiently for their pilots to need them. Luke followed Wedge's lead, not quite sure which ship would be his, or if it would stay his by the end of the battle. Hobbie and Wes came into sight as the turned down a row, the two perched upon their ships, tinkering with the engines and their R2 units.
"There's your ship," Wedge announced and Luke couldn't help but smile at the silvery-gray beauty that sat waiting before him. The X-Wing had always been a ship he'd admired. It handled as well as the sleek Jedi-fighters, but had the space and sheer power of the old Clone ship predecessors. These had the hyperdrive capabilities neither of the others had, setting it above the rest in sheer ability.
Something hit the back of Luke's legs and he glanced down to spot Artoo, dome swinging around happily at the prospect of flight.
"You flying with me, Artoo?" he asked lightly and the droid whistled an affirmative. "I hope you let Dad down easy."
Artoo let out a raspberry before swinging around and heading off back towards the command room. Luke chuckled at the droid's antics, shaking his head lightly before looking back up to admire his ship. He grasped a rung on the ladder that lay to the side and began climbing, eager to examine the ship first hand. He crawled over the cockpit hood, careful not to put too much stress on the plasteel glass. The glass itself should hold up to any stress except sudden impact, designed to withstand the vacuum of space, but it was better to be safe than sorry in any situation.
The engine was in prime condition, that Luke was sure of. There was evidence of lack of flight, keeping this ship in near factory conditions. He set to work, hoping to improve the targeting system as much as he could without Artoo's help. He'd need better accuracy and shields in this fight, and the best way to achieve that was to override the computer and reset the power distribution.
He fell into the easy rhythm of working on a ship and quickly became absorbed into work. He lost track of time and was nearly finished the distribution process when his name rang out sharply through the hangar. He glanced up with a mild jump, looking around for the source of the voice, his eyes landing on his father walking quickly towards him. And he did not look happy.
"Luke! You're taking Artoo?" Anakin asked sharply, stalking right up to the ladder and quickly climbing it to be eye level with his son.
"I'm not taking him, he's taking me!" Luke defended, holding his hands up, palms out.
"That's not what he said," Anakin countered, crossing his arms in annoyance.
"And when has Artoo ever told the whole truth?" Luke asked, rolling his eyes and turning back to the engine.
Anakin grit his teeth and glanced down, the droid in question rolling happily towards the ship, whistling out a small tune. He froze as it spotted Anakin, spinning his dome and then his body around and rolling away. "Artoo! Get back here!"
The droid froze before slowly spinning around and rolling back towards the ship. Anakin grunted once before pushing away from the ship and climbing down the ladder. He walked over to Artoo before crouching down and looking into his optical lens.
"Artoo, did you not tell me that it was you that wanted to fly with Luke, not the other way around?" Anakin asked slowly, eyes narrowing. Artoo, waited a beat before whistling once lowly. Anakin smiled darkly and continued. "And why exactly did you not want to fly with me? We used to always fly together, remember?"
Artoo tweeted out a string of binary, almost too fast to be comprehensible. Anakin's expression changed from one of dark humor to out right offensive.
"I am not too old! You have your circuits mixed up. I'm only in my forties, Artoo! I most certainly am in my prime!"
Artoo let out an electronic chuckle before turning and rolling around him, towards the tech that was in charge of placing R2 units in the ships. Anakin followed his movements, frowning and shaking his head at the droid. He glanced up to Luke, the boy clearly having listened into the conversation and trying his unsuccessful best to hide a grin.
Anakin narrowed his eyes before waving dismissively towards Luke. "Take him! I don't want him. He is dead to me."
"Whatever you say, old man," Luke laughed. Anakin scowled before walking off towards the part of the hanger that housed the Jedi ships. Luke watched him go from the corner of his eye, still tinkering with ship. He glanced down at Artoo waiting in line to be placed. "Hurry it up, will ya'? I've got things for you to do, you little trouble maker!"
Artoo let out an electronic raspberry and Luke laughed again, continuing on with the modifications.
"You really plan to go up there, don't you?" Leia asked, leaning against the cool metal wall in the Falcon. Han sat on the edge of the engine pit, untangling a set of wires to properly replug in a piece of the ship.
"Yep," Han nodded, gritting his teeth at a particularly nasty knot.
"And there's no way I can keep you grounded?"
"Nope."
"Why?"
Han glanced up at her, noting her uneasy expression. "What exactly do you mean 'why'?"
She let out a sigh, glancing away from his gaze. After a few moments of silence, she opened her mouth and spoke, still looking away. "I don't know. I just don't want to lose you. I barely got you, Han."
"That's what this is about?" he asked, setting aside the wire mess and standing. He crossed the room quickly and caught her arms. She looked up into his eyes, worry evident in her gaze. "Leia, I'm going to be fine. I've got Chewie, and you know he wouldn't let me do anything too stupid up there. Besides, we could use the extra fire-power against this thing."
"I know, believe me, I know!" she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut and tilting her head up in frustration. "I don't want Luke or my father to be up there either, alright? But is it too selfish to not want you up there more?"
"No," he shook his head, then paused and nodded. "Actually, yeah, it kinda is, Princess. But at least for once you are thinking about yourself. That's what I wanted for you. But I will be going up there, and I will be coming back, you hear me? Some battle station ain't gonna be my end, alright?"
She leaned forward and hugged him, his own arms closing around her small frame and holding her close. She flinched as his arms pressed against her inflamed spine and Han immediately let go of her.
"Sorry," he whispered, running a hand through his hair angrily. If he could get one hand on the scum that did that to her...
"No, it's alright," she assured, waving a hand dismissively between them. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel guilty for accidentally hurting her. She inhaled deeply through her nose and smiled up at him, trying to ease the guilt and anger she could feel brewing in him through the Force. "Can we just pretend that the Death Star won't be here in an hour and that you'll come back for me?"
"I refuse to pretend that I'm coming back for you," he said, giving her a pointed look and stepping closer to close the distance between them again. "I can't pretend something that's true, alright?"
She smiled, ignoring the pang of uncertainty that shot through her. He smiled back, leaning in and brushing his lips once against her forehead lightly. She closed her eyes at the feel and melted into his form. They stood like that for what seemed an eternity, just enjoying the feel of the closeness between them.
Thrawn stood before the large viewport that lined the front of the Chimaera's deck, staring at the star that represented Yavin. If he'd contributed anything to the way Tarkin ran the late Palpatine's empire, it was military grouping practice. The fleet gathered just a few parsecs outside a system, and then made the final jump together, arriving and near perfect unison.
It was a risky process, the ability to get lost among the endless stars great, but in his opinion, worth the risk. Control was derived not by power but coordination. One thing uncoordinated could start a chain reaction of disunity, and that was not the ideal term coined in an empire.
"Sir," Pellaeon's even tone called from behind the Chiss. He stepped up closer, standing even with the Commander. "The fleet is assembled, and the Death Star has made it. We are clear to jump in five minutes."
"Excellent, Captain," Thrawn smiled. "Are the TIEs assembled?"
"Yes, Sir," Pellaeon nodded. "The Avenger and the Devastator will be accompanying us on the attack on the moon."
"Superb," Thrawn nodded happily. "Fine destroyers, those ships. Even more exemplary men. This should be a well balanced fight."
"Sir?"
"Captain, you couldn't be so naïve to think this not a disastrous mission?" Thrawn smirked down at the captain.
"If it's so disastrous, why do the attack in the first place?"
"Tarkin will do as he pleases," Thrawn shrugged, as if it were a normal thing to talk down the highest moff in the Empire. "He will discover the flaws in his and Palpatine's design that I pointed out on numerous occasions soon enough, and until then he will believe he is invincible in that ship. For now, we give him this battle. But do remember, the Jedi never lost, did they?"
"They've been in hiding though, sir," Pellaeon protested.
"They were smart enough to lower themselves there, not daft enough," Thrawn reminded. "No, the Jedi have merely been waiting, Captain. Now, stand by for my orders once we reach the moon. It will be quite interesting to see how this plays out."
"Of course, Sir," Pellaeon nodded, smiling slightly at the Supreme Commander's rather unorthodox leadership.
"Thank you," Thrawn nodded. "Now, while we wait, how is the project on Myrkr proceeding?"
"As planned," Pellaeon nodded. "We've had a rough start, but a local smuggler has assisted us in the process."
"Smuggler?" Thrawn questioned, wary. Smugglers were notoriously unreliable and hardly secretive for a price.
"One Talon Karrde," Pellaeon quoted. "He has sent out several of his men to assist us, and promising silence in return for the continue of his business privacy."
"It seems we all require privacy these days," Thrawn mused. "Allow his assistance for now, but watch him, as he no doubt is watching us. Is he aware of who we are?"
"Yes, Sir. Apparently he collects information."
Thrawn smirked. "Of course he does. Send my gratitude to Mr. Karrde, expressing our deep appreciation of his help. He will be most useful to us, I'm sure."
"Of course," Pellaeon nodded.
"Supreme Commander," an ensign's voice called from the lower control areas. Thrawn glanced back, shifting his attention and the ensign continued. "We make the jump in T-Minus thirty three seconds."
"As scheduled," Thrawn nodded. "You may want to prepare yourself, Captain. These Class II destroyers may be an improvement over the Class I's regarding the jumps, but they are hardly anything to write to the core about."
"Aye, Sir," Pellaeon nodded, a small smile playing his lips. He turned and headed to the navigation station, overseeing the jump and countdown. Thrawn remained by the viewport, gazing back at the solitary star that mattered at the moment. The tables would be changing with this battle, he was sure.
"Hyperspace in five, four, three, two..."
The jolt swayed Thrawn a bit, but the Chiss remained, tall and proud, leading his people into battle, as any good commander would...
I've mentioned it before but I'll mention it again: I love the Rogues. I can't get enough of their antics. Unfortunately, we won't see too much of them in this story.
Here's me wishing you all a happy holiday. I'm leaving for my mother's in about fifteen minutes to celebrate her birthday (which was yesterday) tonight and Christmas tomorrow. (She doesn't know I know but I got a LEGO Millennium Falcon. I can't wait to see those Minifigs! Vader! Yes! I have Leia, Wedge, Han, Luke and Chewie sitting under my Monitor already from my X-Wing.)
Anyways, have a very Non-Star Wars Christmas because the Holiday Special was really really bad and I can't even sit through the opening credits. Maybe have a Harry Potter Christmas or something. He got an invisibility cloak. That seems pretty neat if you ask me. I could list off other Christmas themed events from movies, but then this Author's Note would be too long and I'd forget any of my Jewish readers. And that's not cool. So Merry Christmas and happy Hannukah, and May the Force be with you.