"Why? Why do we have to go back to Odessen?" Gursan demanded aloud as he paced the ship's cockpit before remembering the crew were rushing around the ship stowing their gear. If he wasn't careful, they would easily overhear his conversation with Torian.
Outside the ship's main viewport Tatooine hung in the distance. Even from the night-side of the planet it glowed eerily like a blood-red harvest moon as a few solitary ships hung suspended above it's atmosphere. Torian sat in the pilot's chair preparing their hyperspace routes, and without looking up from the NavCom console said, "If Khomo had been on Tatooine I could have challenged him then and there. He wasn't, so we need to continue playing this game until we're face-to-face with him."
"It will be a bloodbath if we go," began Gursan under his breath, "We will be turning this crew into corpses, or worse – murderers."
Torian chuckled at this, and Gursan raised an eyebrow at the amused reaction.
"Corr, we're already a crew of murders as far as the galaxy is concerned – it's how most races regard the Mandalorian people already," and raising his head to look Gursan in the eyes he whispered, "Technically, I already murdered you."
Gursan stared at Torian with a stupefied expression for several seconds as he thought on this before saying, "If we go back to Odessen with ships full of Mando'ade before we're done this mission, the base security is going to descend on us like a swarm of wingmaws and nobody will be able to stop the inevitable slaughter on both sides."
"Maybe, maybe not," said Torian playfully before returning his attention to the NavCom. "What if we offer Khomo a plan to land in the far shipyards and infiltrate the base from there? We will be far enough away from the main security forces that I can confront Khomo in relative seclusion."
Gursan was nodding thoughtfully as he raised his hand to scratch his chin and considered Torian's idea. "If Khomo can get clearance codes to land on Odessen then he can probably get the base layout as well - he'll know landing in the main hangar will be suicide. Your plan is technically sound – he will have to see that and agree."
"Exactly what I'm hoping," muttered Torian as he looked up and smiled at Gursan, "See Corr, us young Mando's aren't so green after all, are we?"
Grinning wide, Gursan punched Torian's shoulder hard, a Mandalorian show of affection, but something still bothered him and it took only a few seconds for him to find the words to express it. Dropping his voice to a whisper, Gursan asked, "What about the crew? Won't they turn on us once you call out Khomo? They're all expecting to become Neo-Crusaders, right?"
"Once I challenge Khomo, they'll be forbidden to interfere - as will his Crusaders. If I win; Manda'lor will restore our crew's clan names, which is what most of them want. If I die? You will challenge him next. Hopefully I will have tired him enough to give you a chance."
"Hey– " objected Gursan.
"You've come far in your training Corr, but you're still no match for Khomo Fett and I can only pray that I am."
Gursan turned to leave the cockpit, feeling jubilant at the ingeniousness of the plan, when Torian's words struck another thought, "What do you mean Mand'alor will restore their clan names?"
"Corr, our crewmates all have colourful backgrounds and may not be of the most upstanding members of their clans. The promise of something bigger drew them to join us - to follow me."
"What do you mean?" Gursan asked as he took a few steps closer to Torian, narrowed his gaze, and whispered, "What about the honour of the Mando'a? What's wrong with you?"
"The Resol'nare are the ideals by which we live by but not all Mando'ade can live up to them when they and their families are starving or debts need to be paid.
As for me? My father chose not to side with the Sith against the Republic and raised an army against Manda'lor the Vindicated, and for that, I have been branded a traitor's son. Among the Mando'ade we believe who you are as a father is more important than who your father was, and Shae Vizla has faith in who I can be. Even to Khomo Fett, who I can be matters more than who my father was – except he seems unable to forget what my father has done."
As stoic as Torian portrayed himself to be, Gursan could see the pain and loss in the young man's eyes as he spoke, and "I'm sorry Torian - I didn't know," was all he could say.
"It would seem our mole has turned assassin. I want that person caught and locked in the brig or dead in the morgue before anyone else is shot at."
Solasta plainly stated her orders and said no more.
At o'seven hundred hours in the morning it all seemed surreal that a little more sixteen hours earlier someone was in the wilds of Odessen shooting at the Alliance Commander in broad daylight. Solasta looked around the table at the faces of her Section Heads and measured everyone's reaction, but all she saw was the same confusion and disbelief that had stared back at her an hour earlier from the mirror in her refresher.
"If our assailant could outrun Major Jorgan, they must have had a speeder. I'll check with the yards to see who's signed out, or returned, a vehicle in the past week," said Colonel Ganila, the Head of Civil Security Forces – a fiercely serious male Duros with deep green skin and eyes that burned like two precious Corusca Gems set into his large bulbous head.
Colonel Boleme motioned towards Major Threne, Lana's liaison who wore a rank as a formality only, and said, "We will build a list of those who recently arrived on Odessen from Customs and cross reference with intel records to see if any new arrivals have reason to make an attempt on the Commander's life."
Last to speak was Colonel Roteia, the Head of Trade Affairs and ex-Zakuulan military logistics officer. "I will send representatives to the speak with our merchants - it would be wise to begin vetting their buyers and suppliers from off world."
Nodding her approval, Solasta dismissed everyone to their tasks and returned to her office to begin working on the mountain of communications to update the allied planets and begin coordinating changes in security protocols for catching their traitor. The sheer volume of messages and holocalls that had flooded in overnight from Alliance Leaders was overwhelming, and before Solasta knew it her chrono was chiming to remind her of the weekly prenatal checkup at the medcenter. Making a frustrated 'mrrrr' sound at not having actually started any of her actual work for the day, she locked her desktop consoles and left for her appointment.
Stepping off the elevator and through the security gates to the open air outside the main base, Solasta blinked once as her eyes adjusted to the bright mid-day sunlight. Hesitating, she clutched her unborn kitling and surveyed the citizens who passed as they rushed around their daily lives, and the fear struck her that any one of them could be waiting, watching, scheming to make another attempt on Mirah's life. Eyes darting around the crowd, Solasta spied Sarai and Maura walking through the crowd towards her. The tightness in her neck and shoulders released, and with a slight shiver her fur settled back into place before she canted her head forward and said, "Hello Master Chantalle and Colonel Jorgan," as they passed her, smiling in return.
Sitting on the exam bed with her legs swinging free over the edge, Solasta pulled the thin green cloth gown tight around her as she waited for her doctor to arrive and exam both her and the feisty kitling that was doing somersaults in her belly. "We'll go eat soon," she cooed as she rubbed her hand over her stomach and felt a fist, or a foot, press outward against her palm. Purring slow and rhythmically, Solasta's small gymnast seemed soothed by the deep thrumming that would be reverberating throughout the core of Solasta's body.
The slight crackle in the public-address system overhead piqued Solasta's attention, and within same split second of her ears pricking forward and purring fading, the emergency klaxxons began to broadcast throughout the base for a second time in as many days.
Sliding off the exam bed, Solasta pulled the relay from its case that hung on her belt and clipped it over her ear. Opening the door to her exam room an peering outside into the hallway she watched as patients and medical staff all looked around equally confused at the alarm.
Pressing the button on her relay, she asked, "What is going on?"
"General, there's been an attack in the main courtyard and the base is in lock down," was the answer from someone who was shouting over the loud discord of the war room as voices shouted in the background.
"I need you to unseal security door..." and she looked at the closest exit from the medcenter at the end of the hallway, "...bravo-twelve-foxtrot."
"Negative Sir, only the Emergency and Triage Centers are open for the wounded - you'll need to wait for the timer to finish before the doors unlock in the patient examination wing."
Dressed and pacing in front of the main foyer blast doors for an entire hour while the automatic locks counted down their timer, Solasta grumbled loudly and growled at the stream of updates that had streamed in over her relay.
Maura had taken a bolt to her knee. Master Chantalle had minor shrapnel injuries. Commander Riggs was hit twice – once in the shoulder and once in the side. Everyone was alive and being rushed to her location, except there was still twenty-two minutes and thirty centimeters of reinforced blast door separating them.
Raising her voice and sputtering a litany of Catharese curses, she noticed the faces of those around wore the same expression as the soldiers who side-stepped Aric in the hangar the day before. She didn't find it amusing today and she didn't care.
Solasta laid on her side, awake and staring at some invisible spot on the wall, unable to sleep.
Unable to get the image of Miriah in her kolto tank, twitching like some ill-fated dreamer who struggles but can't wake from their tormentor, or of Maura in her kolto tank, her leg raw, bruised, and swollen. Corso with burns across his back where blaster bolts penetrated his jacket and the underlying cortosis liner.
Unable to shake the feeling that she had failed her duty to keep her Commander, friends, and new family safe. If it had not been for the chance visit to the base by Arcann and his swift actions with cutting down the assassin droid that had taken up a vantage point above the cantina, the number of injured would have been considerable, and fatalities would have been assured.
Unable to ignore the fear that Gursan was forever lost to her.
Her kitling was unusually quiet and placing her hand on her belly she thought, sleep while you can little one, the galaxy is a dangerous place and will not spare the weak or the cathar, before submitting to the torrent of hormones besieging her emotions, and Solasta let herself mewl uncontrollably until she tired herself and slept.
Waking before dawn to the familiar sound of her chrono, she pressed the snooze button and settled back to sleep. It took less than thirty seconds before her eyes were forced open by the pressure of her child resting on her bladder and she shot out of bed desperate for the refresher.
I couldn't have just five more minutes?
Once she was washed, dressed, and ready for a day of picking up the pieces of the second failed assassination of Miriah, Solasta walked through base alone. This was her favorite part of the day. Only a few shops had any lights turned on or activity inside as shop owners readied themselves for another day. Odessen was asleep and everything was still, quiet, peaceful.
Inside the main base, she was walking to her office adjacent to the war room when she noticed light seeping through the flexiplast window and illuminating the darkened hallway at the far end of the Science Section, so she decided to investigate. Approaching the window, she watched Aric sift through the remains of the droid that were sprawled out on the workbench before him and noticed his nictitating membrane; his third eyelid, was slow to contract when he blinked. He had not been to bed, most likely having sat there the whole night, and was exhausted.
Solasta left and returned to where Aric was still hunkered over mess of droid parts that were spread out before him. It was clear Aric was deep in concentration when his ears didn't twitch at her approach and he failed to notice when she sat on the stool next to him.
Solasta murmured, "Adina, [Droid,]" and silently wished she had been wrong. A droid only meant the traitor was still out there and would be planning to strike again.
Even though her presence could not have been missed by Aric's Cathar senses he still didn't acknowledge her, so she held the hot caffa out and waited until the scent registered with his nose. Raising his head, he turned to look at the cup being offered to him with fine narrow slits for pupils, and she grinned when his focus passed the caffa mug and settled on her protruding belly.
"Nris ekto?" [Find anything?]" she asked in catharese, in case anyone was listening; casually or intentionally, as he took the mug from her and drank. The comfort it brought him was less evident in his satisfied sigh he made, but more evident in the subtle smoothing of his fur as his nerves had been stimulated.
"Just parts," Aric murmured quietly so that only she would hear. He also answered in basic, which meant he didn't have anything to report, "I'm not sure what I expected to find – I just knew that I had to look," his attention drifting back to the parts on the workbench.
Solasta nodded and said nothing. While she liked to believe she shared Aric's commitment to safeguarding Miriah and her family, she knew his familial ties and big-brother affection for Miriah would make the events of the past few days weigh much more heavily on him. Solasta knew his brooding cathar disposition would deepen until the person or group who orchestrated these attacks was caught, and Maura would make sure his health didn't suffer for this obsession.
"I have to get back to the war room. The other alliance planets are reporting in today about any similar activity on their worlds," she said as stood.
Aric shook his preoccupation with the droid and said, "You look good, Sol. Any word?"
Solasta knew he was asking if there were any updates from Gursan or Torian, and she just shook her head. Aside from the updates on their movement every few days from the Mando encrypted comms, there hadn't been any news. She had let go of the bursts of optimism every time she received a new message – they were always work related and the disappointment only added to her emotional fatigue.
"Hang in there. Let me and Maura know if you need anything, okay?"
Solasta smiled weakly, trying not to display her feelings, before she left him to his task.
What I need is my mate and the father of my kitling.
