Torn Station was one of those interstellar waystations that had endured generations, passing through successive owners who preferred to lay low and let commerce legal and illicit run its course. As one of the few truly neutral locations in the area, the war had turned it into a clustering point for dozens of civilian ships that wanted out of the Imperial-Alliance fracas. Now that the war was officially over some were attempting to slip away, mostly on a Coreward hyperspace route toward Umbara, but plenty still remained. Fast Start was a large ship, but it didn't look out of place as it docked with the uppermost of Torn Station's three stacked discs.
Arlen could feel his daughter's relief as she stepped onto the deck of what was, put simply, her home. For Arlen it was less familiar but even more welcome. For too long he'd felt estranged from Marin and her life; now he was in her home, following her down its gray utilitarian hallways. He felt closer to her than he had in thirty years, maybe more.
Marin led them from the airlock portal down to a large hold. Storage crates were stacked along the edges but great space had been cleared in the center. A single man stood there, black-haired and round-faced, datapad in hand. Arlen hung politely behind Marin as she went up to her husband and embraced Benet in a long, strong hug.
When they were finally done Marin stepped back and, with one arm still on his shoulders, swung toward Arlen. "Benet," she said, "I'd like you to meet Arlen Fel. Also known as 'Dad.'"
If the younger man was annoyed to have been pulled into this danger zone, he gave no sign at all. Benet extended a hand. "It's an honor to meet you."
"Been a long time coming," Arlen smiled and shook. "Thank you for coming all this way. You didn't have to."
"I think I did." Benet smiled sideways at Marin. "You know, when all this started, I was the one encouraging her to get involved."
"Things happen," Arlen said. "Sometimes people have to reevaluate their priorities."
"Not me," piped Marin. "We're going to get these Jedi and Alliance people loaded up, offload 'em someplace else, and then we're taking a vacation. All four of us."
"A vacation?" Benet looked amused. "Where?"
"We'll think of some place. I'm thinking sand and beaches and no people. Shab, if Mom wants to, she can come too."
Arlen crossed his arms. "What about the rest of her relatives?"
"There I'm drawing a line. Nobody wants to see Mekr in a bathing suit."
Benet probably didn't get the reference, but he smiled anyway. "We'd better get loaded up first."
"Right." Marin patted his shoulder. "Everything's set out there. We're ready when you are."
"Then let's get to work," Benet agreed.
He ushered Marin and Arlen to the side of the great chamber, then worked his datapad. The bulkhead on the opposite end split in half and opened wide, revealing the storage bay on Torn Station where thousands of Admiral Slossar's bitter-enders had gathered. They started piling in immediately, bringing with them whole crates of supplies ferries on repulsor-sleds. Most of the Alliance soldiers had changed into plainclothes to be less conspicuous, but they still had the hard eyes of weary soldiers.
Benet was taken aback by their sheer numbers. "How many are there?"
"Between thirty and forty thousand," Arlen said. It was a lot more than Slossar had promised. Apparently he'd gotten an excess of volunteers. "How many can you take?"
"I don't know," Benet admitted. "I mean, we're built to carry more than that in terms of raw weight, but we've never had so many people before. They're going to need water and food, refreshers…"
"They've brought a lot of the first two. Sanitation might get a little tricky. Hopefully they won't be with you for long."
"Do you have any idea how to find Stazi?"
"Admiral Slossar gave us a few ideas."
"We've scrounged up a few smaller ships too," Marin added. "If we can get twenty, twenty-five thousand here, that'll be good."
Benet nodded soberly. "I just hope the Imps don't want to inventory this thing themselves."
"If they do, you'll have to run."
"This isn't a blockade runner."
"I know. Mom and her Mandos are here too. They can help run interference if it comes to that."
Benet didn't look thrilled at the prospect and Arlen could hardly blame him. It would take several hours to import all the Alliance personnel onto Fast Start and there was still a lot that could go wrong.
But before any of that, there was something Arlen had to do. His daughter knew that too. She asked Benet, "Where's Ania?"
"I told her to stay in her cabin while this place floods with strangers."
"Good idea." Marin looked to Arlen. "You ready?"
"I've been ready," he replied.
After thanking Benet one more time they left him in the hold to oversee the loading of all those Alliance passengers. Marin led him back into the maze of same-looking corridors and up several levels via lift. It struck Arlen, who'd made Starlight Chamption into something of a home, that this was a great big ship for three people. He wondered what it must be like for his granddaughter to grow up on it with only her parents and droids for company and a new port to call at every few days. He suspected Ania would be very restless when she grew up.
When they reached the door to Ania's room Marin knocked, and second later a girl's faint voice bid them enter. Marin walked through, Arlen followed. Like the rest of this ship it was bare and functional with harsh gray bulkheads. A single porthole widow looked out on the stars. It didn't seem to him like a little girl's room, but then Marin had grown up in the Jedi academy on Bastion, also a spartan place.
And then were was Ania, standing in the middle of it, looking inquiringly up at her mother and this strange old man she'd brought with her. Ania had black hair and a round face like her father, but there was something of Marin in there too, especially the eyes. They were curious eyes, questioning and a little distrustful. And restless eyes, he thought. Definitely like her mother's.
Marin dropped to one knee and hugged her daughter fiercely. "I've missed you so much, kid."
"Thanks, Mom." Ania squirmed a little in the vice-grip.
When Marin finally released her she waved a hand at Arlen. "I've got a surprise for you. This… is my father."
Ania blinked at him. "You're not the emperor," she said.
Arlen gaped. Marin chuckled and mussed her hair. "The emperor's my cousin, remember? This is just… call him Grandpa."
"Okay," Ania gamely tried it herself. "Grandpa."
It was enough to make an old man weak at the knees. Arlen bent over carefully and took Ania into another hug. This one was strong too and he could feel Ania squirm uncomfortably, but he honestly didn't care. He'd needed this family reunion for so long and now that it was here it seemed to erase everything. The long decades he'd spent growing old without any family, the fall of the Alliance and their uncertain future. Everything. Right now even the present calamity felt worth it, just to have this.
When he finally pulled away he wiped a few tears from his eyes and sniffed, "Nice to meet you, kid."
Ania looked a little uncertain, but she smiled.
Arlen looked around the plain room. "So. This is your home."
Ania nodded.
He squeezed her shoulders. "Tell you what. Your dad's busy in the main hold, but how about you give me a little tour of this place? I bet you know your way around every nook and cranny on this ship."
She looked a little embarrassed, but nodded again.
"Just stay out of the way if you run into any, ah, new cargo," Marin warned.
"I'm sure we'll manage just fine," said Arlen. He stood up straight but squeezed one of Ania's hands in his own. "I'll let my guide the lead the way."
Marin took them both in. She, too, couldn't keep from smiling. "Take care of your grandfather," she told Ania. "He'd old and gets a little fuzzy in the head sometimes, so make sure he doesn't get lost."
Arlen gave her a look, but Ania nodded dutifully.
"Anyway, I'll check with Benet, then head back out," Marin told her father. "Make sure everything's getting loaded properly on Starlight Champion."
"Good. You might as well prep her for flight and take off when you're ready."
Marin blinked. "What about you?"
"I think I'll stay here with my guide." He squeezed Ania's hand. "Besides, I saw how you flew that ship on Randon. You're much better with her than I am, now that I'm all fuzzy in the head."
"Fair enough. I'll keep in touch and let you guys know when I'm ready to launch. Hopefully we can push out together."
"That sounds like a plan."
Marin looked back to her daughter. "I'll see you soon, Ania. Keep your grandpa in line while I'm gone."
"I'll try," the girl said gamely.
Marin chuckled, threw them a wave and warm smile, then slipped through the door and was gone.
Savoring the warm glow he felt inside, Arlen looked down at Ania and said "Well, Miss Solo, please lead the way."
-{}-
After passing through Fast Start's umbilical airlock Marin wound her way back to the cargo room on Torn Station from which the Alliance soldiers were flowing. There were still plenty of people left to move, but Benet and his assistant droids seemed to have it in hand.
She left the chamber and took a lift tube that pulled her toward the center of the station's upper disc, transferred to another that shot her down to the middle disc, and finally a third that brought her to its edge. Torn Station was laid out so heavy carriers like Fast Start coupled with the outer discs while smaller vessels berthed in hangars on the central one. It was an arrangement designed to prevent messy traffic, but it also had meant it took her some fifteen minutes to get from her own ship to her father's.
Starlight Champion wasn't the only ship docked in this hangar. Runaround was here, and she'd temporarily donated it to Master Grolik, his apprentice Omwrak, and several other Jedi. The Bottom Line sat slightly forbidding in one corner, though some Alliance troops had been packed in with the Mandalorians. A handful of other scrounged-up civilian ships both larger and smaller than Champion took up the rest of the hangar. Plainclothes Alliance soldiers buzzed around the deck, hauling cargo into ships. It was busy, but less busy than when Marin had last seen it. Hopefully things were wrapping up and they could get out of here soon.
Marin spotted Master Lowbacca at the entrance to the transport beside Champion. The Wookiee was roaring, growling, and throwing around shaggy arms to get his point across to some Alliance people who clearly didn't get Shyriiwook. Marin waited until he was done and the crowd dispersed to approach.
"They're loading up Fast Start now," she told him. "My dad's staying aboard."
Lowbacca roared and gestured to Champion. Marin's Shyriiwook wasn't great either but she got the idea.
"He's leaving that to me. I'll take it out with Nat. Sorry, Bantha."
The Wookiee nodded approval and made for Arlen's ship. Marin followed him inside and, just like everything else, it was packed with foreign bodies eager for safe passage out of here. They made their way to the cockpit and found Nat in the co-pilot's seat running checks. He was accompanied by two Jedi, the Zabrak apprentice Soht Lenar and the Cathar Zho Tuum, who towered almost as high as Lowbacca.
"How's it coming?" Marin asked them.
"Basically, we're ready to go," Nat said.
"How many people aboard?"
"Twenty-eight, plus you two. And only one refresher, I should point out."
"Well, this won't be a long trip. Hopefully."
"Any idea where we're going yet?" Nat swung his gaze toward Lowbacca, wondering if it was time to fall back to Taivas.
The Wookiee shook his head and said that they needed to get out of Imperial space first. That was tricky, given that just about everywhere was Imp territory now. He suggested they try and slip Rimward toward Hutt Space, which should be suitably lawless enough for them to lay low and try to contact Stazi's fleet.
"Do you plan for us all to join Stazi's forces?" asked Soht Lenar.
Marin fully intended to unload all these soldiers and go on vacation, but she waited for Lowbacca's response. From his series of growls and murmurs, she gathered that he hoped to speak to Stazi himself, then make that decision.
Soht and Zho Tuum nodded obediently. Nat, bless him, said, "I'm just the escort service. I'm planning to lay low after this."
"Seconded," said Marin.
Lowbacca calmly said that this, too, was their choice, and the Jedi were thankful for all they'd done so far.
Marin was about to patch in a call to Fast Start and check their progress when something on Nat's sensor board pinged. He leaned close, checked it, and swore.
"We've got company," he growled. "Imperial frigate just dropped out of hyperspace. Velox-class."
Marin frowned. That was an old ship and not a big one. She'd expected them to send at least an Ardent-class to lay down the law here.
"We must stay calm," Zho Tuum purred. "Are they hailing the station?"
"Think so. Can't pick up their transmission." Nat chewed his lip. "I'm pickin' up fighters too. Not TIEs. Think they dropped out of hyperspace alongside the frigate…"
Lowbacca barked a question and loomed over Nat's chair.
"I've got a scan, but they're no model I've ever seen."
Lowbacca only had to glance at the readings to make his grim pronouncement.
"Sith fighters," Zho Tumm clarified. "They're called called Furies."
Everyone else in the cockpit seemed to freeze as one. It wasn't just the shock of their arrival; they'd been half-waiting for it. Marin realized the Sith were reaching out, touching the Jedi and purposely instilling them with dread. Even Nat seemed stuck in place.
"Okay!" Marin snapped. "Time's up. We need to get out of here, now." She dropped into the pilot's seat and flicked on the comm with Fast Start. It routed directly to her husband's personal comlink and when the connection opened she could hear background clamor.
"Benet, do you hear me?"
"I read you. What's going on?"
"The Sith are here. Now. You need to pack up and get the hell out of here."
"Marin, we've got a lot of people left to load."
"Take off with that you have. Time's up."
"You're sure we can't bluff 'em?"
"Normal Imps maybe, not Sith."
"That frigate's pulling close to the station but it hasn't fired yet," Nat reported. "Those fighters are spreading out, loose formation."
"They are searching for us," Zho Tuum said. "How many?"
"Full dozen."
"If we try to run they'll gun us down," whispered Soht.
Yes and no, Marin thought. Ships like the Bottom Line were tough enough to get past a couple snubfighters, even ones with Sith pilots. Starlight Champion, maybe, if she did everything right. Fast Start was too big a target and too slow. Its only hope was to punch out with as much cover fire as possible.
Lowbacca clearly had the same thought. He roared that he would go out and get the other ships ready to launch. If they all pushed out at the same time the Sith would have a hard time catching them all.
It was the best they could do. Marin turned to thank the Wookiee, but he was already hurrying out of the cockpit and out of the ship. While Nat began engine checks, the two Jedi went back in the hold and told the passengers to get ready for takeoff. Marin patched in a call to Runaround, telling Grolik the situation, then called her mother in the Bottom Line. The Mandos were aware of the situation and ready to punch out, but Marin warned them to hold position so they'd all break out as one. With Tamar's help, she got Mekr to comply. Then she checked with Benet. He was closing up Fast Start's hold but had yet to get the engines going. They'd be at least five minutes to takeoff. He didn't know where Ania and Arlen were.
"The frigate's still holding position," Nat told Marin. "So are the Sith."
"Are they sniffing us out? Can you feel them?"
He nodded grimly. "Yeah, I feel 'em. Like something really cold on the back of my neck. I'm trying to make myself small so they can't feel me."
"At least they're not attacking."
"Yet. My guess is they're in fierce negotiations with that station owner."
"Nobody's supposed to know we're here."
"Yeah, but the man in charge's gotta have an idea." Nat looked anxiously around the thinning flight deck. "Wouldn't surprise me if local security doesn't try to lock us down."
"Well, they haven't yet. I think-"
Nat's board lit up again. "Ah, stang. Here we go."
"What?"
"A couple ships from the lower disc and trying to punch out."
"What ships?"
"I dunno. Somebody else got spooked by the Imps. They're running for it. Some of the Furies are trying to intercept."
Across the hangar, one ship pushed off on its repulsors and flared it engines. They'd seen their opened and were making a run for it. Marin reached for the comm board to tell them to stop, but the Bottom Line kicked off too, and then another freighter and another.
"Looks like we're jailbreaking," grunted Nat.
"Fast Start's not ready to run."
"It'll have to be." Nat leaned over the punched on the comm. "Hey, Mandos, don't karking run yet! You're being paid for escort duty!"
"We've gotta go while they're distracted!" barked Mekr.
Marin said, "Mom, Ania and Dad are one that ship."
"Then we'll be their escort," Tamar said with finality. "You coming with us?"
"Yeah, why not?" Nat said. He quickly retracted the landing ramp, turned on repulsors, and brought engines online. "Just don't get too far ahead."
A few ships were pushing out of the hangar, her mother's among them. Marin didn't know where Lowbacca was, but he could take care of himself. Right now her family needed saving from the mess she'd gotten them into. She kicked in Starlight Champion's engines. The ship lurched, shuddered, then shot out space.
-{}-
Lowbacca watched engines flare and ships race out into black space. The hangar deck shuddered beneath him as scattered Alliance soldiers stampeded toward the remaining freighters. There would not be enough room to get everyone off, he knew, and rather than throw himself into the mad rush he remained where he was, feet on the deck, still among the fury.
He reached out in the Force and felt the other Jedi. He felt Grolik and Omwrak pushing out into space, their panic barely restrained. Arlen was further away, aboard Fast Start and trying to push free of the station. Most other Jedi had taken off, though he could feel Gen Konar aboard a Sullustan freighter that was struggling to close its ramp as desperate would-be passengers tried to hold it down and climb aboard. More dimly he could feel Nat Skywalker with Tuum and Lenar, plus Marin's mother aboard the Mandalorian ship.
Some would escape, but not all. Lowbacca felt bleak calm come over him. For so long he'd wondered how his end would come. Spending his life among members of shorter-lived races he'd seen it come to them time after time, in all manner of ways. All his early friends were gone, their teachers gone longer. Of their children only Arlen was left. He felt his old apprentice's anxiety in the Force, like a distant star. He could tell Arlen was focused not on preserving his own life, or even the thousands of Alliance bitter-enders stuck in Fast Start's hold. He only cared about saving the granddaughter's he'd finally gotten to meet.
But there was nothing Lowbacca could do about that. He watched the last few transports surge out of the hangar and into space. He could see lasers slanting through the hangar portal, and sometimes darting ships. Some were Jedi, some were not. A few TIE Predators seemed to have joined the Sith Furies in their attack, but he could not tell how the battle was going.
Then he first the felt ship die, taking a dozen lives with it. Grolik and Omwrak were gone in an instant, and Runaround with them. There'd be more to come.
The Alliance soldiers stranded on Torn Station were in a panic. Many were moving for the door that led deeper inside the station, though none of them knew what they'd do. Try to get another ship, or hide inside the station depths. Some might succeed, but Lowbacca felt a chill run down his spine and knew that the Sith had marked him as a target. There'd be no point in running from them.
He felt the hunters draw closer, felt them grow hungry. He watched as a pair of Sith Furies swung into view. They were angular ships with wings jabbing forward on either side of the cockpit like blunt knives, and the blades were aimed right at the hangar. He expected them to fire and blast the whole hangar out into space, but instead they decelerated, slipped through the atmospheric envelope, and dropped onto their extended landing gear in a shower of sparks.
Some Alliance troops rushed out of the hangar. Others dropped to their knees, took cover, and began firing. The Furies' cockpits popped open and the Sith came out as red-bladed tornados. Troopers sprayed laserfire and the Sith spat it back out, dropping several soldiers. One Sith somersaulted over a barricade of supply crates and nimbly cut down the three troopers behind it. The other spun on a standing trooper and cleaved her in half.
In between them, equidistant from both, was Lowbacca. His lightsaber slapped into his paw and its molten blade ignited. He gave a loud roar, drawing the Sith's attention and warning the Alliance troops to fall back and leave this fight to him.
The troopers complied without question. The Sith were eager to oblige. The Wookiee master hefted his lightsaber and gestured for them to come. They were both humans, young and eager for a challenge, and he intended to give it to them. Lowbacca had beaten far greater opponents. He hoped they sent more. He hoped he could draw as many as he could away from Fast Start and the other ships.
He hoped his stand bought as many lives as possible.
The Sith circled until they were on opposite flanks, then charged as one. Lowbacca was ready for them.
-{}-
Fast Start pushed away from Torn Station and into chaos. The arrival of an Imperial frigate had sent not just the Jedi and their allies running but dozens of other ships, probably smugglers and low-lives who wanted to get away from authority's falling hammer. Arlen could see it through the cockpit viewport as Benet and a droid co-pilot angled the ship away from Torn Station's triple discs. TIE Predators and Sith Furies had clustered into groups to pursue fleeing spacecraft. The TIEs were firing indiscriminately, and Arlen winced as a bystander's SoroSuub yacht burst to flames. The Furies let some go, but veered wildly to chase ones they could feel Jedi aboard.
Arlen tried to shield his presence, but there was no way he could block the frantic Force-presence of over ten thousand Alliance troops huddled in Fast Start's hold. There was no way the Sith would miss that. The big ship hauled slowly toward the exit vector, and it had no weapons of its own.
Ania hung to the back of her father's chair and peered over his shoulder. "Where's Mom?" the girl asked tensely. "Did she get away?"
Benet shook his head helplessly. The whole ship shuddered hard but kept moving, and Arlen's first thought was that they'd taken a stray bolt. Then alarmed wailed on the sensor board. Ania peered out the starboard side of the cockpit and stabbed a finger.
"Look at that one!" she gasped.
Benet and Arlen looked. The narrow-bodied Velox-class frigate cresting Torn Station's triple disc wasn't much bigger than Fast Start, but it was infinitely more deadly and was heading straight for them. At the same time a Fury flashed in front of them and another explosion rocked the ship. Instead of recovering from the blast, Fast Start continued to tremor and Arlen could feel it begin to decelerate.
Benet swore and pounded the console. "What is it?" asked Arlen.
"Losing power to engines. I think one of the power conduits blew. Stang." He reached over to his comm board, flipped a switch, and nothing happened.
"Can we fix it?" asked Arlen.
"XG-7 can do it," Ania said immediately.
"Internal comms are out. I can't reach the droid," her father scowled.
"I'll do it!" the girl popped off the chair and hurried out of the cockpit.
Arlen instinctively went after her, though he knew he'd never matched the speed of a panicked twelve-year-old. Still, Ania kept the lift door open an extra two seconds so Arlen could step inside, then dropped them to lower decks.
"You don't have to come with me," the girl said, "I know every part of this ship."
She seemed so much like Marin then. "I'm just watching out for you," Arlen panted. Just that short sprint had left him winded.
When the door opened she was off again. The corridor was half-filled with confused Alliance troops who slowed Ania down and slowed Arlen even more. The hall began to shake violently and Arlen had to brace both hands on the bulkhead to keep from falling.
Then there was an ever greater explosion. The deck seemed to slip away beneath Arlen and all the troopers rose slowly into the air. Up ahead, unseen, he heard Ania's wail of surprise.
Artificial gravity was down. Engines were probably broken beyond repair. Arlen reached out with the Force toward the cockpit and found nothing at all. He couldn't be positive, but in all likelihood it had been blasted away and Marin's husband was dead.
They'd all be dead soon. The Sith would have no interest in capturing all these Alliance renegades, only slaughtering them. Arlen found some calm center inside himself: he knew what he had to do. With the Force he pushed the hallway's drifting bodies to the wall, clearing a path. With zero gravity and the Force he could shoot faster down the hall than he ever could on his old man's legs. He found Ania on the far end, using sweat-sticky palms to pull herself across the wall to a door.
Arlen reached out, caught her with one arm, and steadied them both against the door. "Ania," he breathed, "Where are the escape pods?"
"B-But the engines… We have to-"
"The ship's dead in space! How do we get to the escape pods?"
Even in her confusion the girl knew the way. She slammed the door's control panel to open it, then pointed down the left branch of the corridor ahead. Arlen kept her body pinned to his with his right arm, then used his left and bursts from the Force to speed them along that corridor, then down another branch.
"We're going so fast," Ania breathed. "Are you a-"
"We'll go over that once we get out of here and hook up with our mom."
It would be madness shooting into battle in a little pod during a crazed battle full of Sith hunters, but it was the only choice they had. Arlen had survived crazier odds than this, he was sure of it, but none of them leaped to mind right now.
Ania directed them through one more door and one more turn. Arlen recognized this spot from his too-brief tour: a short narrow corridor with three small circular airlocks lined up on the far wall. Before they could get close the ship trembled again, knocking Arlen shoulder-first into the nearest bulkhead. The pain was so sharp he let go of Ania, but the girl gripped his sleeve to keep from drifting.
"Wait, wait!" she called.
"We have to go now!"
"What about Dad?"
Her couldn't tell Ania her father was dead, not now. "He'll catch up later."
"But how-"
Another tremor, different from the last one. It was strong enough that Ania lost her grip and began floating down the corridor. Arlen reached out with the Force, touched the controls for the center airlock and opened its portal.
The tremor wasn't abating. It was surging, growing closer and louder, and coming with it was the screaming sound of tearing metal. Arlen knew that sound: a catastrophic hull breach was rending the ship to pieces.
No hesitation, no fear. Arlen pushed with the Force one last time, guiding Ania into the escape pod. Then the corridor's outer bulkhead tore open. Air gushed through the lengthening seam into star-speckled black. Catastrophic decompression signaled emergency overrides and the escape pod's airlock sealed tight. Arlen thought he heard the muted bang of jettison charges shooting Ania's pod into space, but he wasn't sure. It didn't matter. He felt her in the Force, a beacon of panic, falling from one danger into another.
He'd done all he could. He could only hope it was enough. Arlen felt energy leave his body and stopped resisting the rush of oxygen emptying into void. He relaxed, closed his eyes, and let it take him away.
-{}-
Lowbacca rolled beneath a lightsaber-slash, sprung up, and thrust his own blade backward. It speared through his opponent's back and out through his chest, a certain killing blow, but there was still one more Sith to kill. The Wookiee master spun on one foot and brought his blade close in a defensive underhand grip. As he tugged it free it carved a deeper hole through the dead Sith's chest, and as Lowbacca prepared to face his second opponent the body of the first thumped hard onto the hangar deck.
Then he felt it. Arlen's death wasn't a painful, shrieking flare-out in the Force. It was a relinquishment, sudden but calm, and then the little piece inside Lowbacca that belonged to his former apprentice was gone.
In that second the Sith charged. Lowbacca was barely able to block his attack, and the Sith struck so fast and hard he was unable to bring his saber back into an overhand grip. He blocked strikes on instinct but the Wookiee suddenly felt so tired. After a hundred and fifty years he'd watched friends and loved ones die, generation after generation. He should never have listened to his uncle Chewbacca's tales of adventure among the stars. He should have stayed on Kashyyyk with Sirrakuk and his parents for a simple life among his own kind. In choosing to be a Jedi he'd doomed himself to this: loving and losing, over and over and over again.
Lowbacca was so sick and tired he was tempted to let the Sith strike him down now. Once he joined Arlen and all the others in the Force there's be no more loss.
The temptation came and passed in a second. He could still feel others out there who needed his help. He could also feel the eagerness of the Sith in front of him, convinced and elated he might by the one slay a legendary Jedi Master.
Lowbacca let him think that. He shrunk from one attack, then another and another. The Sith pressed harder using heavy overhand swings. Lowbacca bent at the knees and let the weight of the blow press him down, then put his paws together, braced himself, and pushed back. Lightsabers crackled together. The Sith bent Lowbacca further backwards, putting two hands and all his weight on the hilt of his blade.
A Wookiee held more strength in one arm than a human held in both. He removed one paw from his lightsaber, grabbed the Sith's wrist, and pulled hard. The Sith lost balance and his lightsaber skirted up and out across Lowbacca's blade. The Jedi, still holding it with an underhand grip, flicked his wrist and cut through the Sith's own, severing hand from arm. Fist and saber fell to the deck. The human howled. Lowbacca pulled his blade back, punched out, and tore a gaping hole in his enemy's waist. The body flailed to the deck and was still.
Panting, Lowbacca shut off his lightsaber and stood straight. The hangar had been emptied of everything except cooling bodies. Outside in space, laser still flared. He caught a fireball but was not sure of the source.
Jedi were still out there. He could feel Nat Skywalker's presence, thick with panic and grief.
Lowbacca turned his eyes to the twin Sith Furies sitting on the deck with cockpits open and seats empty. He sprinted for the nearest one.
-{}-
When the Imperial frigate unleashed its first volley of concussion missiles, Fast Start had been helpless. The freighter's meager shields had already been softened by strafing runs from Sith Furies, and the frigate's warheads blew out one engine and left it lurching. Then a Fury had swooped down on its unshielded bow and launched a single warhead that vapored the cockpit instantly.
At that moment Marin had been banking Starlight Champion toward her husband's ship. When she saw the explosion her jaw had dropped, her hands gone weak at the throttle. Bantha, in the co-pilot's spot behind her, had reached out desperately with the Force while the frigate unleashed its second wave of missiles. He had no idea what Benet or Ania felt like in the Force, but in the clamor of frantic life aboard the freighter he'd found his old master, somehow still alive. He'd shouted that to Marin to get through her shock, and with grim resolve she'd taken the controls again and dove Champion toward the dying ship.
Then the second wave hit, tearing the hauler apart. Two engines exploded, rupturing the superstructure and splitting the outside hull. Champion had gotten close enough that Bantha could see the layered durasteel shell around the main hold open up like ripped flimsy. He saw crates of equipment and bodies, so many bodies falling out into the void.
As it burned from both ends, Fast Start continued to break. It yawned open like an unhinged jaw, spilling a clod of debris so dense Bantha could no longer track individual bodies or scraps of wreckage. Marin was shocked beyond word, beyond thought, and they might have flown right into the cloud before two Furies dove instead, firing with their laser cannons, savagely vaporizing the dead and the dying. Marin jerked on instinct, pulling Champion up and around the dead ship.
As Fast Start's gnarled body dropped out of view Bantha reached out for Arlen again. This time there was nothing.
The frigate was too close, and it began pumping turbolaser fire in their direction. Bantha knew in an instant that Marin was in no shape to fly. He took her by the shoulders and moved her out of the pilot's seat as gently as he could. The two Jedi behind him helped settle Marin in the co-pilot's seat while Bantha wrestled the controls and veered away from the frigate. Its laserfire went wide, wide sensors still screamed alarm and their aft shields rocked.
"Two TIE Predators, right behind us," Zho Tuum reported. He leaned over Marin's shoulder to read her screens.
Bantha wrestled them into an evasive maneuver. Arlen had let him fly this ship back during his apprentice days, and it was coming back fast. It had to. The space around Torn Station was an absolute bedlam of Imp fighters and civvie ships scrambling to escape. There seemed too many Imperials to have come from one little light frigate, but then he spotted a big gray wedge in the distance. The Sith had finally brought their backup in, which meant they could pulverize the whole station if they wanted to.
Best if they didn't. Best if every Jedi got out of here right now. Maybe, just maybe, the Imperials would sense that and spare a station crammed with innocents destruction.
"Something just took out the TIEs," Zho Tuum announced. Finally some good news.
Bantha reached over for the comm, but it blared first. Marin's mother said, "This is Bottom Line. Champ do you read? Marin?"
"We're here!" Bantha barked. "Thanks for the help."
"Fast Start," Tamar fumbled. "Did they- Can you feel-"
"They're gone," Marin croaked. "They're all gone."
For three long seconds there was silence on the comm. Then Mekr's gruff voice said, "I don't wanna be a cold chakaar, but if we've got no ship to escort, can't we run?"
"Yes," Zho Tuum confirmed. "Do you have coordinates?"
"I got 'em. We'll form on your wing and get outta here."
"Sounds good," Bantha said and killed the connection. As he veered toward their exit vector something flashed in the side of his vision, and then heavy laserfire rocked their starboard shields.
"More fighters," Zho Tuum said. "Not TIEs. They're-"
"Furies," Marin said dully. "Three of 'em."
"Marin, can you take guns?" asked Bantha. "Marin?"
"I can do it," said the Cathar.
Marin half-fell out of the co-pilot's seat. Soht Lenar helped her into the chair behind it as Zho Tuum took her place. Starlight Champion had decent firepower but its laser turrets weren't much use against targets directly behind them. The three Sith were doing a great job staying in their blind spot. Off their starboard side, the Bottom Line engaged in wild turns and twists, some nearly colliding with Champ, all the while popping off shots from both ventral and dorsal turrets. Still the Sith stayed on them, peppering their aft shields with steady draining laserfire.
"One more Fury inbound," Zho Tuum growled. "Port side."
"Can you shoot it?" asked Lenar.
"I have the cannons now." The Cathar's big paws worked gunnery control. "It is almost in range."
Knowledge struck Bantha like a blow to the face. "Stop," he said, "Hold fire! Don't shoot that Fury!"
"Why the kark not?" hissed Lenar.
They got their answer when the incoming Fury unleashed a pair of proton torpedos that slammed into the nearest Sith fighter. It exploded instantly, and Lowbacca's ship dropped behind the two remaining Furies to harass them with laserfire.
Bantha turned the comm to its widest transmission range. "Master Lowbacca, we're almost free! The second we jump, get out of here!"
He got long, triumphant Wookiee trill in response. Behind them the Furies broke formation, peeling in separate directions to deal with their attacks. The way ahead was clear.
Flying side-by-side with the Bottom Line, Starlight Champion settled on its proper heading. Bantha checked the hyperdrives, made sure they were ready to fire, and depressed the throttle. The old scout ship lurched into hyperspace, bringing salvation to all its passengers but leaving its owner and so much more behind.
-{}-
The Sith pilots recovered well from their surprise. When they split formation Lowbacca, more concerned about the other ships' escape than anything, had hesitated to pursue either. Once Starlight Champion and the Bottom Line disappeared into hyperspace he set course for the closer Fury, which at that point had already pulled into a sharp turn aiming for Lowbacca's aft. He matched the turn but still failed to drop onto the Fury's tail until it leveled out into a steady course back toward Torn Station. The second Fury had maneuvered directly behind Lowbacca and began firing into his aft shields.
The Wookiee jerked and juked, trying to edge his way out toward the vector Nat and the others had left on. The Sith were dead set on preventing this, and as he tried to flee his pursuer the Fury he'd been chasing swung itself around to join the hunt.
Lowbacca growled and wrenched his fighter into mad twists and turns to avoid two sets of laserfire. They forced him further and further from the escape vector but also away from Torn Station. He could sense no more Jedi here in the Force, only a handful of Sith, many grim Imperials, and countless panicked bystanders.
His job was done. He'd allowed some Jedi to escape and saved lives, though not nearly as many as he'd wanted. The hollow ache that had followed Arlen's death came back, and he thought of releasing his control stick, flying straight, and letting the Sith put an end to it.
The temptation passed again. He realized he was close to another escape vector, one that would take him back to Kashyyyk. To his son, his sister, his people, everyone who'd need help now more than ever. In a ship like this he might even be able to slip past the Imperials and land.
Despair was a vacuum and certainty filled it. Lowbacca twisted his way out from two more Sith laser volleys, pushed more power to his engines, and checked his nav computer. It took him a few extra seconds to work the unfamiliar controls, but he was able to pull up the proper coordinates and correct his heading.
The Furies were still on him, eager to kill their last Jedi. Lowbacca ceased his twists and turns long enough to set a straight course to Kashyyyk. The Sith marked their slippery target, locked on, and released two warheads each. The torpedoes shot through empty space and kept going. By the time they'd reached his position, lightspeed had kicked in. Lowbacca was home free.
