Author's Note: This story will reference some real world mining techniques, including fracking. I want to state that I am opposed to fracking, but have changed its usage and process in this story to make it better fit into the GFFA universe. The same goes for other mining techniques and processes. Long story short: this is a work of fiction. I sometimes use elements from the real world to lend my story credibility, but please keep the 'fiction' part in mind.
On a happier note, I'd like to thank all of the wonderful people who've left me reviews. You keep me going and you help me make this story better and better. Special thanks go out to the wonderful laloga. Thanks for picking out all those loose threads I dropped. You keep me honest. O'sic is just for you.
The Direct Approach
"React first, think later, regret at leisure."
- Anne McCaffrey, All the Weyrs of Pern
Shenio Mining HQ, at the Senet river, thirty-two klicks outside of Eyat city, Gaftikar, Outer Rim, 21 BBY (26 days after the first bombing & 17 months after the Battle of Geonosis)
The landscape around Shenio Mining was a blasted, eroded wasteland, illuminated by bright sunshine to the point of cruelty.
The disfigurement of the area was so complete that Ro had to pause for a few minutes to take it all in after leaving the hopper.
Gaftikar's lush forest had been razed for a good klick in all directions, trees cut so low to the ground that the remaining stumps reminded Ro of a man's cheek after shaving. The ground was barren of grass and Ro could see small mounds where the wind had begun to carry off the fertile topsoil. The Senet river flowed sluggishly, its waters an uninviting brown with shimmery rainbows on the surface from where oils had spilt into the river. Ro didn't think there was much of anything still alive in that river. The air was filled with the steady thumpthumpthump and clacketyclacketyclack of heavy machinery.
The Shenio Mining building dominated the skyline; a ten-story tall transparisteel and obsidian block that looked like some uncaring child had dropped it there. Two smaller buildings, one also of obsidian and transparisteel, the other a simple container unit, just peeked out over the high security wall surrounding the compound. Living quarters for the Shenio employees and the clones.
Wren, who'd jumped out of the hopper when the craft was still hovering a good two meters above the ground, stood slightly further down the road, facing the Shenio Mining building, hands resting lightly on his holstered blasters. The scene reminded Ro of several anti-war posters she'd seen: a wasted landscape, the ominous symbol of a corrupt authority and the soldier. All that was missing were the words, Don't let this happen to your planet, emblazoned along the top.
A caravan of hover trucks broke the still-life, their repulsors whirling up a storm of dust. They rushed along the access road next to which Officer Pa'Rillo had landed the hopper, their flatbeds filled to capacity with large ingots of gleaming metal. Gaftikar's fortune was passing her by.
Ro watched them go, then wrinkled her nose. "What's that stink?"
"The fracking water," Pa'Rillo answered her. The police officer had left the hopper's cockpit and come to stand next to Ro, keeping the Padawan between herself and Wren.
Ro furrowed her brow. "Fracking? That sounds naughty."
Pa'Rillo gave her a wan smile, the skin along her eyes crinkling, but Ro sensed the woman was more aggrieved than amused. "Fracking," Pa'Rillo explained, "is a process by which water is pumped through fissures in the ground stone. Hydraulic fracturing, Shenio calls it."
"Sounds rather nifty," Ro said, hesitant as she observed Pa'Rillo's grimace.
"It's a disgrace," the officer said with undaunted passion. She waved in the direction the stench was coming from. "The water is treated with damotite to dissolve the rock. That stuff's poisonous. Shenio says they retract all the water, but some of it leaks into the groundwater. There used to be farms here, some two kilometers to the east," and Pa'Rillo pointed in that direction, "but not anymore. They all got sick. Damotite poisoning." Her expression was pained and she crossed her arms, as if hugging herself for comfort.
Ro frowned. "That doesn't sound right," she muttered unhappily to herself. "There are laws..."
A derisive snort from Wren interrupted her. "Laws are for those who can kriffing well pay for them, cheeka," he said, casually strolling over to where the two women stood.
"You are a basket full of Tatooine sunshine, Cookie," Ro said, but couldn't find it in herself to disagree. She'd seen too many corporations walk over the law to not see the truth in his words. Lately, as the Clone Wars plunged the galaxy into ever greater chaos and the Republic's peacekeepers were called to the front lines, corruption had become ever more present in the day-to-day lives of citizens. Or maybe, Ro thought in a flight of passing cynicism, it's just all rising to the surface now.
"I'll look into it," she promised herself, then turned her face back into the breeze, right into the chemical stink of the fracking water. Time to face the filth. In more ways than one.
Grinning broadly at her two companions, she linked one arm through Pa'Rillo's, then tried to do the same with Wren, but the clone sidestepped her neatly. Beneath that helmet, Ro was certain he was sneering at her in distaste. Well, one out of two was a good count. Shrugging off Wren's distaste for tactile contact, Ro smiled up at Pa'Rillo and started in on her usual chatter as she more or less dragged the still uncertain officer towards Shenio Mining HQ.
"Quite the day for a collar, ain't it? Sunshine, summertime, chemical fumes in the air and the thunk-dunk of techno-gizmos singing out. It's a stellar setting and not even the holonet could do better, but stars and comets that is a prime ugly building."
Ro tilted her head back, eyeing the complex rising above a thick permacrete security wall. Ro grimaced. Couldn't these people build with the landscape, instead of against it? She supposed not. Shenio was a Human run corporation and Ro had found most Humans to be singularly stubborn in their insistence on imposing their idea of civilization on nature. There was no grace to the building, no real beauty, just brute strength and an overpowering presence.
Thinking of her short encounter with the Branch Director, Luddmilla Lucara, Ro supposed that building and person rather complimented one another. There wasn't much grace or adaptation in Lucara either.
Their destination only a few meters before them, Pa'Rillo began to noticeably sweat and she dug in her heels, trying to free herself from Ro's hold.
"I should call the commissioner," she temporized. "Get his clearance."
"Nonsense," Ro argued cheerfully. "I've got oodles and doodles more clearance than he does."
"This is so far above my pay-grade," the officer muttered unhappily, eyeing the building looming over them.
"That's alright," was Ro's blithe rejoinder. "I don't get paid." She inclined her head towards Wren, who was silently stalking after the two women. "Neither does Mr. Grumpy-Boots."
They were almost at the gate now and Ro observed that it was as ugly an affair as the rest of the Shenio complex; a single thick leaf of heavy durasteel. Goodness, but don't these people know how to spell inviting?
When they were no more than five steps away from the gate, two security droids stepped out of a tiny guard booth to block their way.
"Halt!" The left one said, raising one hand. "This is corporate property. Authorized access only. I must ask all unauthorized personnel to leave the area immediately."
Pa'Rillo gulped audibly at the sight of the huge droids, each well over six feet tall and covered in heavy durasteel armor painted an alarming shade of yellow.
Wren gave a sigh, rotating his head on his neck and rolling his shoulders until the tendons popped. "Fierfek," he said, sounding more bored than alarmed.
Ro took in the situation with a mildly puzzled expression, though her mind was racing and her teal eyes were flitting from one droid to the next.
"Those are Zeds," she said to no one in particular. "Why are two SoroSuub 501-Z police droids acting as hulking guardians of the intimidating gate?" Two more anomalies to add to the list.
She stepped towards the two Zeds, one hand reaching to the back of her belt to unclip her badge. The Zeds raised their blasters in response to her approach and with growing disquiet Ro noted that they were not standard security stun blasters.
Someone's been misappropriating big time, she thought as she flipped open her wallet, revealing her gleaming golden badge.
"I'm Padawan Roweena Arhen of the Jedi Investigative Service Branch," she announced, holding her shield out to where the two droids could not fail to see it. They bent their cumbersome heads to gaze solemnly at her badge. "I need to speak to Branch Director Luddmilla Lucara, concerning the investigation of the recent bombings in Eyat," she continued, not at all intimidated by having the Zeds loom over her. "Open the gate and step aside."
The droids shared a look, then a bluish-green beam sprang forth from the photoreceptor of the Zed on the left. Ro stifled a sigh and allowed the droid to scan her badge for authentication. The Zeds were extremely sophisticated droids, on par with even the priciest protocol droid in relation to their personality modules. But they were a stuffy, officious lot.
Scan completed, the Zeds straightened, their blasters still in their hands.
"Unable to comply," the Zed on the right told her.
"Insufficient authorization," the left Zed clarified. "Please clear the area immediately or else be removed."
Ro's jaw dropped. "Insufic..." she sputtered indignantly. "I'm the most authorized thing in this sector!"
The Zeds continued to regard her cooly, their single, long photoreceptor beginning to take on a slightly red tinge.
Officer Pa'Rillo tugged on Ro's indigo sleeve, trying to pull the smaller girl away from the droids. "Eh, Padawan, perhaps we should do as the droid said." The woman cast a nervous glance at the towering police droids. "M-maybe we could come back later. With Commissioner Gor'Dan?" she suggested hesitantly.
Ro didn't budge and shook herself free of Pa'Rillo's grasp. "No diddly way," she said firmly. "If they won't let me through, then Gor'Dan doesn't stand a wampa's chance on Mustafar."
She turned to look at Wren, who'd been silently watching the confrontation. His stance, hands on hips and slightly spread-legged, might appear relaxed to the casual observer, but Ro noted that his hands rested close to his holsters and his Force-signature hummed with expectation. He wanted this deal to go down a black hole, but Ro wasn't quite yet willing to throw down the armored gauntlet.
She tilted her head at Wren, a silent request for him to join her.
He looked at her for a long moment and she was once more reminded of the fact that this man enjoyed debunking authority whenever he could. If there wasn't a war on, she thought with no end of mirth, he'd surely be arrested for impersonating a soldier.
"Getting frustrated, cheeka?" he asked, his voice falsely solicitous. "Need a man to lend you a hand?"
Ro cocked an eyebrow at him, not missing the lascivious undertone to his words. He did love to play. Good thing she was an ardent player as well.
"Kind of you to offer, Cookie," she replied in the same overly pleasant tone of voice he'd used. "But I prefer to take my needs into my own hands."
He gave a single bark of laughter and Ro was pleased to note that his stance relaxed slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest, gazing down at her through the visor of his helmet.
"What do you want, cheeka?" And his manner was now almost civil as he asked the question.
Ro crooked one finger at him, beckoning for him to lean in closer. He did so, for once complying with her request without a show of defiance.
"You got any cams in that tricked out piece of headgear?" she wanted to know.
"Yes." He cocked his head at her, clearly wondering what she was about.
"Stellar," she said evenly. "Warm up those memory rods then, 'cause we're about to make a holo-vid for the ages."
Something in her tone must have alerted him, because he straightened abruptly. "What the fek are you planning now in that barvy head of yours?"
The smile she gave him was wide, pleasant and very toothy. "Why, to apply the big finish to this cut out/count out, of course." She looked at Officer Pa'Rillo, who was still standing next to her, eyes wide in her tan face and clearly anxious. "Officer," she told the woman formally, "I'll have to ask you to step aside for a moment. Things might get messy."
Pa'Rillo didn't need to be told twice. Wide-eyed, the woman scurried away from Ro and back down the access road, stopping only when she was a good three meters back. Ro cast a questioning glance at Wren.
"Don't even kriffing think about it, cheeka," he told her. "I wouldn't miss this nerf and Wookiee show for all the Twi'lek dancers in the effing sector."
"Charming," she replied wryly and focused on the Zeds again. She gathered the Force about her like a comforting cloak, delving into that wonderful power. Her awareness of her surroundings sharpened to an almost painful pitch and Ro's teeth began to ache slightly as her head filled with the curious static sensation that was her sense of droids in the Force. With the Zeds being as advanced as they were, the sensation was particularly acute.
"Padawan," the left Zed said as it saw her approaching once more. "You are asked to evacuate the area immediately." Like all Zeds, it was programmed with a masculine personality and its vocabulator managed to modulate the deep voice to an exasperated tone.
Ro halted no more than a step away from the two droids. Round little chin thrust up proudly, she called on all the dignity of her standing as a Jedi.
"What is your serial number?" she demanded haughtily.
The Zed cocked its head to the side slightly, but responded promptly. "Unit 723, 501-Z police droid series, SoroSubb Corporation."
"And under who's authority are you operating, unit 723?"
"We act under the authority of Branch Director Lucara and the Shenio Mining Corporation," the droid answered stolidly.
Gotcha, Ro thought, but allowed none of her excitement to show on her face. Ro believed firmly in the old adage that there was more than one way to skin a wamp rat and if she played her sabacc cards carefully, then every second spent on the Shenio compound would supply her with another pelter knife in her arsenal.
"Thank you, 723," she answered politely and once more held out her badge to the two droids. "Then let it be known that I act on the authority of the Jedi High Council and as a member of the Jedi Investigative Service Branch I demand that you give me access to this facility under Article four, subsection 12, paragraph 19 of the Galactic Constitution."
She waited a beat as the droids processed her demand. Around her, the Force grew very still, as if it were holding its breath. The sensation warned Ro of what was to come next.
In a single swift and synchronized move, the two Zeds raised their blasters and shot at the Jedi.
Venator-class Star Destroyer Stalwart, orbiting Coruscant, Core Worlds, 21 BBY (26 days after the first bombing & 17 months after the Battle of Geonosis)
Garett stood in the Stalwart's bridge, gazing at the holoprojector as the navcomputers charted the quickest course to Gaftikar. Before him, outlined in glowing blue pixels, worlds and stars flashed by as Stalwart downloaded the latest astrophysical reports from Coruscant's traffic center. It wouldn't do to run afoul of an ion storm while in hyperspace.
Around him, Stalwart's bridge crew bustled about, finishing any final preparations prior to their jump out of Coruscant's orbit. The Force hummed pleasantly about Garett with the men's activity and concentration and he chose to focus on that sensation, rather than the display of stars above the holoprojecotor. He always felt a tad superfluous at this stage. Protocol called for the ranking officer to be on the bridge during jump preparations, but the clones didn't really need him to keep an eye on things.
These men were highly trained - far better than he was, in fact - and could prep a ship for a hyperspace jump with their eyes closed and both arms broken. He was just the ornament atop the pile of red tape that seemed to constitute the Republic nowadays and Garett tried very hard not to resent this part of his new role as a general in the Grand Army. Really, considering some of his others duties, standing about the bridge and twiddling his thumbs while others did all the work was the least of his problems.
"General Arhen." Clone Marshal Commander O'sic joined him and Garett inclined his head politely towards the man.
"Is there something I can do for you, Commander?" Garett inquired courteously. He sincerely liked O'sic and had come to respect the man greatly over their months of working together, but Garett found that he simply could not break through the walls of polite civilities in their dealings with one another, dictated to them by rank and regs. But then, O'sic did not appear particularly interested in doing so, often treating his general with the same tolerance and slight condescension he reserved for the freshly graduated clones troopers. But despite that Garett could sense both respect and a certain partiality towards him from the man.
It doesn't matter, Garett reminded himself sternly. Friendship is not a requirement; only that we work well together. And there was no denying that they did, or else the High Council and GAR HQ would never have given Garett command over an entire corps, with O'sic as his second-in-command.
"General, we've received clearance from Coruscant Space Traffic Coordination. We are cleared to jump to hyperspace at your discretion, sir."
Garett cast a glance at O'sic, as always wondering if the man resented the fact that he had to defer to a Jedi in matters such as these. Garett didn't see why he couldn't leave overseeing departure procedures to O'sic or any of the other bridge officers. They all knew what to do. Why by the Force did they need him to nod his head like a sun-struck nuna?
"Are the Horizon and Surety in place?" Garett wanted to know. The two Consular-class cruisers had been ordered to accompany the Stalwart as backup to Gaftikar.
"In place and ready for departure, General," O'sic replied crisply. Garett could see a small twinkle of amusement in the clone's brown eyes. O'sic enjoyed anticipating his general.
Garett remained skeptical of the Chancellor's insistent that he be accompanied by two Consular-class ships. On the one hand, he thought the light assault cruisers were overkill, given the fact that the Gaftikari didn't even have a single ground-to-orbit missile. On the other, Garett was all too aware of the Separatist leanings of the Human half of the population and he did not fancy flying into a possibly hostile situation with only three ships, two of them light frigates. He didn't wish a repeat of what had happened to the Falleen battle group. Well, it was what he had to work with and it wasn't like he could go back to the Executive Building and demand of the Chancellor and Senators Amidala and Organa to change their minds and let him run the mission as he saw fit.
"Permission granted, Commander," Garett said steadily. "Inform the Horizon and Surety. Prepare to jump to hyperspace."
"Yessir." O'sic saluted, a muscle jumping in his scarred left cheek, denoting his excitement at finally being underway again. The marshal commander had been part of the GAR since the assault on Geonosis and during their enforced stay on Coruscant he'd visibly chafed under the bureaucratic nightmare that had haunted their efforts in getting Blazer Corps up and running.
Garett watched O'sic stride across Stalwart's bridge, issuing orders in a crisp voice that did not quite hide his eagerness to be underway. Garett let him take the lead and kept a discreet eye on those members of the bridge crew he and O'sic had tagged: in need of supervision. They were all men from different companies that had been wiped out in one battle or another. For two of the bridge officers this was the third battle group they'd been assigned to and O'sic had hinted to Garett that perhaps the Jedi should keep tabs on the men through the Force, at least until they could be certain that the two were managing to integrate themselves into Blazer Corps.
Watching the bustling activity through the blue glow of the holoprojector, Garett briefly wished for his sister's presence. Ro was ebullient and at times nerve-wrackingly energetic, but he could have used her Force-empathy to get a better grasp of his men's state of mind, not to mention that her cheerful, happy nature would have helped ease some of the more traumatized men back into routine. Garett was a powerful Jedi in his own rights, but he knew his limits and Force-empathy was one of them. Levitating a larty with his mind came far more naturally to him than sorting through the myriad of feelings emanating from a single individual.
The atmosphere on the bridge felt alright to him. No obvious onsets of panic, no blaring feelings of discontent or despair. Maybe...
"General, we have an incoming transmission."
Garett was so taken aback by the communication officer's announcement that he stared at the man, momentarily forgetting proper procedure.
"Eh...yes, yes of course. Thank you, Corporal. Patch it through." An unnecessary order, since the clone was already in the process of doing so. Why do they need us again? Garett wondered in a fit of capricious humor.
The holoprojector flickered and the flowing image of a starscape disappeared, to be replaced by the life-sized figure of a towering Zabrak in flowing Jedi robes.
Startled for the second time in as many minutes, Garett barely kept himself from gaping at the holo-image of Jedi Master Eeth Koth.
"Master." The old title slipped out before Garett had a chance to censor himself.
Eeth Koth smiled at his former Padawan, chuckling as he clasped his hands behind his back.
"I'm no longer your Master, Garett," the Zabrak told him firmly, though the smile did not leave his face.
Garett returned the gesture, bowing respectfully to the Jedi Master. "The habit of many years is difficult to break, Master Koth, and you are still a master to me in experience and skills."
Koth shook his head, amused. "Every time I speak with you, you seem to have grown more proficient in diplomacy and the art of subtle flattery." The smile on the Zabrak's face turned sly. "Reminds me a bit of Master Kenobi. You have not, by chance, been apprenticing yourself to him behind my back?"
"I don't believe Master Kenobi would have the time for me, Master Koth," Garett replied honestly, though not without his own glint of humor. Tugging his hands into the wide sleeves of his beige tunic, he regarded his former Master with interest. "He appears to have his hands full with his duties as general." And with his former apprentice, Garett added silently. He and Skywalker were almost equal in age, but Garett barely knew the Chosen One, nor, if he were honest with himself, did he find much liking in the man's leadership style. Many called Skywalker reckless; Garett did not. Ro was reckless, but Skywalker was at times downright suicidal.
"Perhaps you are right," Koth admitted and the look the Zabrak gave him told Garett that his former Master knew exactly what he'd left unsaid. "And you yourself appear to have little time as of late. I heard you are leaving for Gaftikar," Koth added, some of the humor leaving his face. Garett, sensing that they were coming to the real reason behind this impromptu call, unconsciously straightened.
"Yes, Master Koth," and Garett inclined his head to the Jedi Master, catching a glimpse of the ship's chrono as he did so. "We are, as a matter of fact, preparing to jump to hyperspace as we speak."
"To head for Gaftikar."
Garett felt a thread of unease run through the Force. Master Koth was not in the habit of repeating himself.
"To where your sister is," Koth added as Garett continued to remain silent.
Not this again. Garett almost closed his eyes in exasperation. When would his relationship to Ro stop being an issue?
"Yes, Master Koth," Garett said in a rather more curt tone than he usually used when addressing the Jedi Master. "Ro is currently onplanet. A fact Master Yoda did not appear concerned about," he could not help but add. But privately, Garett had to wonder. Having a relative in the Order was not unusual, but the deep bond between Garett and Ro had always been a cause for concern. It was difficult not to become attached to a person who followed you about with adoring eyes and unwavering faith.
Was this a test of the High Council, to see if he could divorce himself from his feelings for his little sister and focus on the mission?
"No one is concerned, Garett," Koth reprimanded gently. "Except for your safety. Things appear to be rather volatile on Gaftikar."
"And does the Council question my ability to handle the situation honorably while my sister may be in danger?" Garett had never before dared to address the issue in so direct a manner, but he figured that now was as good a time as any. He was no longer a Padawan, but a Knight and a general in the Grand Army. If the High Council expected him to lead men during battle, then he had to know that he had the Council's blessing...and their confidence.
Eeth Koth sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, the holo-image flickering with the distance between former Master and apprentice. "Garett," Koth began slowly and shook his head. "You cannot deny that there is a...a bond between you and your sister."
"A bond," Garett admitted and felt the deck plates hum beneath his boots as Stalwart's hyperdrive began to warm up. From the corner of his eye, he saw O'sic watching him unobtrusively and he could feel the curiosity of the bridge crew closest to him as they went about their tasks and tried very hard not to eavesdrop. "But a bond is not attachment," he argued and raised a pale blond eyebrow at O'sic. The marshal commander took the hint and quickly went after two petty officers who were dallying over a datapad, trying to listen in on the conversation covertly and failing miserably. O'sic shooed them away like errant nuna and Koth wrinkled his brow at Garett in disapproval of his forwardness.
"It is a fine line to walk, Knight," Koth said, with light emphasis on the title.
"And one which I have managed since my earliest days at the Temple," Garett shot back. He looked up at his former Master, hoping that he would not permanently garner the disfavor of the Zabrak. There were few Jedi Garett respected more than Master Koth, but he realized that this was a matter he had to settle now, or else forever find himself under the watchful eye of the Council.
"Master Koth," Garett began slowly. He chose his words with infinite care, understanding that this might very well be the most important thing he had ever asked of the Zabrak Jedi. "Why was I chosen for this mission? Is the Council, is Master Yoda, testing my loyalties to the Order and the way of the Jedi by sending me to Gaftikar?"
"And if it were?" Koth countered just as slowly. "Would you refuse to go?"
O'sic appeared on the other side of the holoprojector, well out of range of the device. He tapped his wrist and made a circling motion with his index finger. Time to go.
Garett's teal eyes flicked from his second-in-command to the holo-image of Eeth Koth. "No, Master Koth, I would not," he told the man firmly. "Because the Gaftikari are in need and I know myself to be capable of lending them aid. And because that is my duty as a Jedi."
Koth's features relaxed and a slow smile curled his lips, creasing the tattooed lines that ran down his cheeks. "Yes," he said and did not bother to hide his approval. "Yes, it is and that is why it has never occurred to the Council or Master Yoda that there is a need to 'test' you, Garett." The smile on the Zabrak's face turned a tad more sour. "Despite what some of your peers might believe, Master Yoda is not that conniving."
Garett carefully kept his face blank, lest one of the bridge crew guess at the thoughts running through his head. Skywalker. Not even a deaf Brubb could have missed the Chosen One's incensed railings against the Council after the Battle of Teth and that unsavory business with Jabba the Hutt.
O'sic was purposefully looking up at the ceiling, as if counting the deck rivets, the tick in his left cheek going strong, though Garett could not tell if it was in impatience or a reaction to hearing Temple matters discussed so openly before him. Thankfully, the rest of the crew was in too much awe of the Jedi to react openly to the delay, but Garett knew that it was time to bring this rather personal discussion to an end.
"I understand, Master Koth," and Garett bowed in acknowledgement of the Jedi Master's reassurances. "Thank you for putting my...concerns at ease. I should not have doubted the Council's intention when choosing me for this mission."
"No, you should not," Koth replied with a return of his old sternness. Then the severe expression eased off of his face, to be replaced with the affectionate understanding Garett knew so well from his days as a Padawan. "And I expect you to bring this Gaftikar matter to a swift end, Knight Arhen. I'm on my way to the Arda system and would appreciate the company of Blazer Corps. May the Force be with you."
"And with you, Master Koth." Garett accompanied the traditional words with a respectful bow and when he straightened, the holo-image of Master Koth was gone.
As if only waiting for the last pixel to dissolve, O'sic caught his general's eye and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "General, permission to engage the hyperdrive?" he asked with such overt courtesy that Garett had to fight a blush at the implied reprimand for his dalliance. "Space Traffic Control has granted us jump permission four minutes ago."
Chagrined, Garett nodded his head, trying - and failing - not to feel like a youngling caught procrastinating on a difficult task. "Of course, Commander. Please continue with all due haste."
O'sic saluted, humor in his eyes at the fact that 'all due haste' had been waiting on his general. He turned about smartly and began to bark the necessary orders at the bridge crew. Garett, once more an unnecessary bridge ornament, went to stand before the Stalwart's huge bridge viewport. Just visible in the curve of the viewport was Coruscant, a glittering jewel against the dark velvet of space. Garett folded his hands into the sleeves of his robes as he caught the whine of the powerful hyperdrive engines. To the right and left of him, he could see the Horizon and the Surety in their escort positions. Then Stalwart seemed to leap forwards like a pouncing nexu and the stars before Garett stretched into infinite lines of light. It was a beautiful sight and Garett determined to mediate to it in the observation deck as soon as protocol allowed him to leave the bridge.
He felt O'sic approach, but Garett, feeling that his authority had already taken enough of a blow for today, kept his eyes fixed on the warped starscape of hyperspace. The silence stretched between them and Garett was pleased to realize that it was not entirely uncomfortable.
O'sic was the first to speak and that too pleased Garett. In the first few weeks of their partnership, Garett had been aware of a most undignified desire to impress and gain the respect of the veteran soldier.
"General, if you don't mind my asking, what was that about?"
"A family matter, Commander," Garett replied evenly.
O'sic raised an eyebrow at that. "I didn't know Jedi had family, sir."
Garett's lips quirked upwards in a dry smile at the skepticism in the man's voice. I do believe this is the first conversation we've had that wasn't about the war, he realized with pleasant surprise. "Despite what some sentients might think, Commander, Jedi do not grow on trees like muja fruit, nor emerge fully formed from the ether. We have blood kin and the Order is our family."
"I've heard," O'sic began nonchalantly, eyes fixed on the viewport, "that family can be a rather big pain in the cargo hold. Sir."
Garett sighed. "I've heard the same thing."
Shenio Mining HQ, at the Senet river, thirty-two klicks outside of Eyat city, Gaftikar, Outer Rim, 21 BBY (26 days after the first bombing & 17 months after the Battle of Geonosis)
Ro's vision dissolved into a wash of yellow, red, dark blue and purple.
Standing so close to the Zeds as she had, Ro'd had to call on all of her much vaunted Force-enhanced reflexes to block the shots the two police droids had fired off at her. Her twin lightsabers snapped to life with an eager vzzzzmmmm. But the space which she had to work in was so small that even as the two plasma bolts ricocheted off of her crossed blades, she could feel the heat of plasma stretch the skin on her face taunt. But that was the price she'd accepted in her strategy.
The plasma bolts shot back at the Zeds, but the droids were already in motion, dodging to the side with reflexes that rivaled her own. The 501-Z police droids had an uncanny ability to predict an opponent's next move, giving rise to the rumor that the Zeds could actually read peoples minds. Ro was getting a first-hand taste of their abilities now, but she wasn't worried. The one thing that a predicting mind could never handle - whether organic or droid - was the unpredictable. And that was her and then some. For example, neither of the droids had foreseen that an opponent planning an offensive would actually move so close to her enemies that shooting her would be like hitting a Felucian jungle rancor with a rocket launcher while standing on the creature's little toe. And now she had the Zeds separated and all she had to do was conquer.
Don't hum your victory tune till the fat lady had her encore, she reminded herself sternly and leaped into the fray.
The Zeds dove to the right and the left respectively to evade their own blaster shots. Ro went after the left one, relying on Wren to take care of the other. Another unpredictability factor in her strategy, for she could not predict how Wren would fare against as sophisticated a droid as a Zed, other than that he would. And if she didn't know, then how could the Zeds?
Ro cartwheeled midair, managing to overshoot 723. She stabbed down with her lightsaber as she hung - suspended in midair for all but a second - upside down over 723, neatly puncturing the Zed's blaster. She landed before the droid in a split, just as 723's own forward moment from its dive ceased. With the unnatural reflexes of the mechanical, 723 began to get to its feet, discarding the now useless blaster. From her split Ro rolled onto her back, spinning, her lightsabers flashing out in a whirlwind of indigo and purple, just at neck-height of the rising Zed.
The droid was excellently made, but even its advanced computing ability couldn't adjust fast enough. Caught off-balance and practically on its knees, 723 tried to throw itself backwards while reaching for its auxiliary weapon, a heavy power mace. Ro's lightsabers bit deeply into 723's chestplate and neck, cutting through the durasteel casing as if it were flimsi and leaving behind deep gauges of red-hot metal.
But the Zeds were made to take a beating and keep going and Ro had wounded the droid, but not taken it offline. 723 rolled backwards along the ground in a reversed somersault, springing to its feet with a fluidity that would have broken the spine of an organic. Ro jumped from her spin to her feet, crouched with her sabers before her, then dashed to the side. 723 followed, its power mace out and crackling with ominous electricity. This was no stun charge. If the Zed scored a direct hit, Ro's heart would likely be fried. From the corner of her eye she saw Wren, handblaster in one hand, his wickedly long dead blade in the other, crouched in a fighter's stance before his Zed. The droid fired off three rapid shots, but Ro had not time to see if they hit their mark. 723 was coming at her like a charging rancor.
Ro flipped her left saber high into the air, blocking 723's power mace with her right. The mace hummed as it impacted with her saber and Ro could feel the vibrations traveling down her arms, making her grit her teeth. So the power mace's internal generator made the weapon vibrate just enough to allow it to withstand her lightsaber. Ro turned her grimace into a feral smile as 723 bent towards her, trying to force her on her knees with its weight.
She'd come a long way since her days at the Temple and she'd learned not to get weapons-locked with a stronger, heavier opponent. Ro let her knees collapse. She tumbled to the ground and rolled away, just in time to avoid the power mace smashing her head like an overripe shuura. Ro got back on her feet and leaped into the air. 723 turned to follow her arc, inadvertently presenting Ro with the perfect springboard in the form of its head. Ro kicked out with one foot, catching the Zed spot-on in the faceplate. She flipped over, caught her left saber and slashed down into 723 in a parallel cut with both sabers as the arc of her flip brought her into position.
723 let out a squeal as its torso was cut into three neat slices. The power mace slid from slack durasteel fingers. Ro landed neatly on her feet, bringing her sabers up into attack position, just in time to see what remained of 723 collapse to the ground. Her grin turned wicked.
"Never get into a fight with a pipsqueak under 5'6," she told the heap of junk.
There was a crash, followed by a string of curses and Ro whirled about just in time to see Wren get smashed against Shenio's security wall by his Zed. The trooper had managed to spring onto the back of the huge droid and was holding on for dear life as he tried to wedge his knife between the thick durasteel plates that covered the droid's neck - and the critical wiring beneath. The Zed in the meantime had decided on the simplest method of ridding itself of its unwelcome passenger, which was to throw itself back against the wall repeatedly in an effort to either knock Wren unconscious or injure him enough so that he'd no longer be able to hold on.
Ro flipped her lightsabers until she held them in a reverse Shien style grip and charged at the remaining Zed.
The Zed still had its blaster and aimed it at Ro even as it tried to break the arm Wren had clamped about its neck. Ro dodged the red plasma bolts, ducking, weaving and rolling until she was at the Zed's feet. No longer able to use its blaster without risk of injuring itself, the Zed tried to kick out at Ro with its powerful mechanical legs. Ro jumped again, using the droid's knee as an improvised step. She made a 180° turn and jabbed her lightsabers through the droid's torso, avoiding spearing Wren by a calculated hairsbreadth.
She landed in a crouch, while behind her Ro heard the clatter of durasteel as the Zed fell, first to its knees and then facedown on the ground.
Ro rose, lightsabers extended behind her and she saw Wren fall expertly to his knees. She smiled a pleased little half-smile. So he knew how to take a hit as well as dish out.
Wren looked down at the two slightly smoking holes in the Zed's torso. Ro waited for the explosion, but the trooper merely dusted himself off, slid the knife into its arm sheath and went to retrieve his hand blaster. Ro watched him, perplexed. She'd been sure he'd have something to say about nearly being spitted by her lightsabers - several somethings in fact. And his Force-signature was off. He felt...well, he felt hot enough to freeze her.
"Are you giving me the silent treatment?" she wondered. "Because I totally don't think that righteous after I just saved your canned hi...Ow!"
He'd closed the distance between them in two quick steps and grasped her Padawan braid, yanking hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.
"Dont you. Ever. Kriffing. Do that. Again." His words were deceptively soft and calm, but beneath that, Ro could sense a volcano about to explode. She guessed the only reason he hadn't rammed his knife into her chest yet was because her lightsabers were still ignited and she could cut him down in a second. "You nearly killed me." There was no fear in him at the prospect. Wren wasn't afraid of death, but he was furious at the idea of dying...at her hands? That didn't make much sense.
Ro narrowed her eyes at him, her own temper flaring up in response to the waves of anger he was radiating. She deactivated her right saber and smacked the hand that was gripping her Padawan braid with the hilt. Wren released her braid and, fists clenching so hard the plastoid creaked in protest, he took a step away from her.
Ro tossed her head, the Padawan braid swinging backwards to fall down her back. "Are you done yet with your hissy fit?" she asked, riled by his attitude.
He straightened until she thought his spine might snap with the strain, but she could feel some of his anger giving way to incredulity. "My...what?"
"Hissy fit," she repeated and gave him a brief, mocking smile. "Because you're acting like a Kowakian monkey-lizard after a three-day stim binge." She propped her hands on her hips, deactivated lightsabers in her clenched fists and glared at him for all she was worth. "I trust you to watch my back, Cookie. Why can't you trust me to watch yours? I don't get my partners killed."
That seemed to stump him. He cocked his head at her and Ro felt puzzlement filter through the anger. "Since when are we kriffing partners?"
"Urgh!" She threw her hands up in the air. Without another word to him, she stomped towards Officer Pa'Rillo to see if the woman was alright.
Pa'Rillo had found shelter behind a small pyramid of empty crates. The woman's tanned face was slightly grey, but when Ro reached out a hand to help her back on her feet, she took it willingly enough.
"Are you okeeday?" Ro asked solicitously. Pa'Rillo felt slightly shaky in the Force, her emotions all in a whirl, like leaves caught in a small whirlwind.
"I-I think I am. Yes." She patted herself down, as if searching for some unfelt injury, then eyed Ro with unabashed astonishment. "And you're alright, too," she breathed.
Ro cocked her head to the side, a smile returning to her face. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be? Or did you want to see me get smashed to atoms?"
"Wha...Oh, no, no, not at all," Pa'Rillo hastened to assure her. "It's just..." she hesitated, looking Ro up and down. "Those droids were so huge and you...you're..."
"Smaller than a gnatfly," Ro finished the sentence for her and then laughed. "But I've been battling the forces of meanness for a goody while now and I know where to hit." She grinned at the woman, showing all of her small, white teeth. "And I am a Jedi, all appearances to the contrary."
Pa'Rillo's tanned cheeks darkened. "I've never seen a Jedi in action before," she admitted. "No wonder you beat the Confederacy here on Gaftikar."
Ro gave the woman a noncommittal smile, knowing very well that Gaftikar had been won mostly through the efforts of the clone troopers and that, in the overall scheme of things, Gaftikar wasn't considered more than a skirmish. But she didn't want to dent the woman's confidence in the Grand Army. She led Pa'Rillo back to the security gate, to find Wren crouching beside one of the Zeds, riffling through the contents of the droid's belt pouches.
"You ready to rejoin civilized society, Cookie?" she asked of Wren.
He ignored her question. Rising, he pointed a thumb at the massive gate. "These fraggin' clankers don't have a pass key to the effing compound. We'll have to slice our kriffing way inside."
So he was going to ignore their argument. Well, alright. She could make like a Jedi and let things go.
"Then slice it is," she said amiably and wandered over to the imposing security gate. She studied the structure for a moment and found much to her relief that the gate had a hinge mechanism, rather than a sliding one. She grinned and re-ignited one of her lightsabers. The meter long plasma blade sprang to life and Ro thrust it into the thick durasteel. Metal heated and began to run down the gate in a red-hot trickle. Ro, putting all of her weight into it, slid the saber through the gate's hinges, making sure to stay close to the seam where gate met wall.
"That's not the kind of slicing I kriffing well meant," Wren told her.
"This is quicker," she replied. Once she'd cut through all of the hinges, Ro clipped her lightsaber back to her belt and stemmed her shoulder against the gate. She pushed against the heavy durasteel, sweat trickling down her face in the effort. The gate groaned, but did not budge.
Behind her, Wren snorted. "Quicker my canned ass. Fierfek. Step the kriff aside, cheeka." He pulled Ro away from the gate.
She stepped aside obediently, sensing that he was still working through the adrenaline high of the fight with the Zeds. Wren regarded the gate for a moment and Ro wondered what was going on in that plastoid helmet of his. What kind of tech did a clone have tucked away in his helmet anyway?
Done with his inspection, Wren took up position slightly to the right of where Ro had stood. He rammed his shoulder into the gate, causing Ro and Pa'Rillo to wince. The gate practically moaned from the collision, then began to squeal as Wren, through the application of strength and sheer obstinacy, pushed the gate open. The lock-bolt on the other side of the cut hinges groaned and rattled as it was forced to move. Wren gave a grunt and threw himself into the gate again, prying it open just wide enough for his armored bulk to get through.
He stepped back, breathing heavily, but Ro noted the eminent satisfaction coming off of him.
"That's incredible," Pa'Rillo breathed.
"Yeah," Ro said with an affectionate smile for the stubborn trooper. "He'll go down in the history holos as the man who opened a door."
Pa'Rillo glanced at her quickly, but saw no mockery on Ro's friendly face.
"You two fems coming?" he demanded, gesturing impatiently at the opening he'd created. Somewhere deep inside the ugly, square Shenio complex, a security siren went off.
Ro tilted her head to the side, listening for a moment and then grinned like a tooka cat cleaning cream off of its whiskers. "Ah, our arrival has been noted and the fanfares are blaring. I adore a good intro ensemble." She sauntered up to Wren, bestowing a sunny smile on the trooper, who'd also turned towards the sound of the klaxon. "What's the matter, Cookie," she teased him. "Not gonna insist on your griddly man-right to take the fort by your handsome loneness while us fems wait in the stands, simpering for your return?"
She couldn't read the look he gave her from behind his visor, but the crackling of his anger had let up enough for her to taste the bright, slightly tart sparkles of his humor. "You're kriffing short, but I figure you'll do for a shield if they break out the effing laser turrets." He nodded towards the lightsabers clipped to her belt. "Least I know you can swing those glowsticks. I was beginning to think they were a vaping fashion statement."
Ro fluttered her long lashes at him, giving him the promised simper. "You charmer. I bet you say that to all the girls you want to tumble into a battlefield."
He snorted in amusement. "Don't flatter yourself, cheeka."
She sauntered past him through the gap in the gate, her hands resting on her lightsabers just in case.
"Is this more of your crinking subtle approach?" he called and Ro turned around to see him toting his blaster rifle.
She laughed. "Don't be silly, Cookie. Subtlety went down the black hole yesterday." She turned to look at the manicured lawns of the inner compound and the gleaming transapristeel front doors of Shenio Mining HQ. The contrast to the ruined landscape outside of the walls was surreal. Her smile turned as feral as when she'd battled the Zed. "Time to be upfront and personal."
Ro led the group across the compound. Despite her nonchalance, she kept her eyes open and stretched out her awareness through the Force. Doing so made her teeth ache, as if she were biting down on tinfoil. There were a lot of droids in the area, most of whom must be working in the mine. Ro could just see a huge, gaping wound in the earth behind the Shenio building and supposed that was where the mining was taking place. The earth shook beneath their feet as something exploded.
"They're blasting today," Pa'Rillo said. The officer kept close to Ro, but continued to shoot nervous glances over her shoulder, as if half expecting Wren to shoot her in the back.
"I thought they used that fracking-shindag to loosen the stone?" Ro asked.
"They do, but blasting's faster in the bedrock," Pa'Rillo explained. "The fracking is to loosen the stone around the kelerium and norax veins."
Ro sniffed the air and grimaced. Although the compound behind the thick security wall looked like it had come straight out of a 'million-cred-executive-gardens' holo-zine, the air stank of foulness and chemicals.
The transparisteel doors slid open with a nearly imperceptible swhoosh. The alarm siren had stopped almost as soon as they'd started and Ro wondered now if they'd been meant to warn Shenio of them or of the blasting taking place in the pit. She peeked into the Shenio Mining lobby and rolled her eyes at what she saw.
The lobby was gigantic, taking up the entire ground floor of the building. The walls and floor were shining black and white marble and an artificial waterfall cascaded down the entire length of one wall. Smack-dab in the middle of the giant room was a round receptionist desk made entirely of Alderaanian rainbow wood and manned by a gorgeous Zeltron female dressed in a perfectly tailored suit of light brown.
We're in the middle of what used to be a forest and the next city is thirty-two klicks away. Who are they trying to impress? she wondered.
The Zeltron receptionist spotted the three of them instantly and gave them a bright, welcoming smile that managed to be alluring at the same time. Instantly Ro could feel the air thicken as if on a warm summer's day and she could have sworn she could smell the faintest hint of warm caramel. Behind her, Pa'Rillo let out a faint sigh and looking at the woman, Ro could see the officer wore a silly little grin. She quickly glanced at Wren, but if the trooper was affected by the Zeltron's pheromones, she couldn't tell. He was still holding his blaster at least, but she noted with some unease that he was looking directly at the Zeltron and making no attempt to move forward.
Ro tightened her mental shields and walked towards the Zeltron, a small smile on her lips. The woman had bright crimson skin and hair and a face and figure that looked as if it might have been sculpted. She turned her perfect face to Ro and flashed the girl a smile that was all winsomeness and promise. Ro's own smile widened as she propped one elbow up on the reception desk and met the Zeltron's gaze evenly. The nametag on the woman's suit jacket identified her as 'Veena'.
"Glad to see Shenio is putting those pheromones to good use," she greeted the woman.
Veena's smile wavered for a second, then brightened again. "Welcome to Shenio Mining. How can I be of service?" Her voice was throaty, as if she'd just climbed out of bed and suggestive.
Ro, smile still in place, said, "Drop the mynock muffins, sugar. I don't roll over for every candied muja fruit that flaunts her pheromones at me." She sent a quick pulse of neutral feelings at the Zeltron, effectively canceling out the heady, sensual aura that surrounded Veena. The woman's brown eyes widened in shock as she sensed what Ro was doing, then flinched in her seat as the feelings Ro was emanating - boredom, lassitude, torpor - reached her.
Ro leaned in further towards the Zeltron, her smile becoming predatory. She flexed her mental muscles, widening the range on which she was broadcasting, effectively showing off to Veena that she, Ro, was in a whole other class empathy wise. Veena's crimson face turned a slightly paler shade of red as she felt Ro's power spread through the lobby, erasing every last vestige of the Zeltron's influence. The brown eyes flicked down to Ro's hips, where they remained glued to the two lightsaber hilts.
Ro snapped her fingers, grabbing the receptionist's attention. "Now, sugar," she said sweetly, "why dontcha give your boss a little ring and tell her company's coming for a chinwag." She raised a pale brow when the woman didn't move. "Now, sugar, or do I have to lodge a complaint with Customer Service as well." Ro added a tiny pulse of impatience to the feelings she was broadcasting.
Veena jumped as if someone had pinched her and she hastily grabbed for the comm unit on her desk.
Ro didn't feel bad for intimidating the woman. She didn't have much sympathy for people who used their abilities to manipulate others so blatantly. Veena's usage of her species' natural pheromones lacked any finesse or morality. She didn't waste any more time on the Zeltron. Walking over to her two companions, she took Pa'Rillo by the arm and dragged the woman after her to the turbolifts. Pa'Rillo, only just beginning to shake off the effects of Veena's pheromones, mumbled something incoherent. Ro sent more soothing energies her way, then glanced at Wren.
The trooper was keeping up without difficulty. Testing the eddies of the Force about him, Ro realized much to her surprise that Veena's pheromones had no more than touched his surface feelings. They hadn't penetrated - if she could be so crass as to use that word. His control over his inner feelings was astounding, doubly so considering the fact that he didn't seem capable of controlling his temper at all.
You're a mystery wrapped in a snarling enigma, Cookie, she thought.
She pushed Pa'Rillo into the next available turbolift. Wren slid in behind her, taking up position against the far wall of the turbolift. Ro entered last and pushed the button. The closing doors briefly framed Veena at her desk.
"Now there's a fine piece of fem," Wren remarked, tactless as ever.
Ro rolled her eyes, blowing her bangs out of her face. "Somehow I knew you were going to say that."
"Do you know where the fek we're heading?" he demanded, changing topics abruptly as the doors closed and the turbolift gave a little jerk.
"Sure I do," she said blithely and pointed upwards. "The high and mighty always sit where they can survey their kingdoms." And where they can fall a long way after I knock them off their throne, she added.