Ko Sai had resigned herself to her fate. She had betrayed her own people, the Republic and even the CIS. They all wanted her dead. It was only her good luck that there had been a Jedi with the Nulls when they captured her. Otherwise she was quite sure that she would either be dead or wishing she was. At least here on Tython she was alive, she was treated relatively well and she was even given access to a lab to continue her work as a geneticist.
She had been brought to this lab by members of Omega Squad, a group of ARC soldiers. When she arrived, she was "greeted" by Kal Skirata, his Null Commandos and Jedi Master Shaak Ti. None looked particularly pleased to see her. The conversation they had had with her was brutal, short and to the point. Either she reversed the Clones accelerated aging, or she would be tried for treason and executed. As that last part was explained to her, one of the Nulls slipped a wickedly sharp knife out and casually toyed with it. The threat could not have been more clear and she readily agreed to the Jedi's terms on one condition: That she not be turned over to the Mandalorians or what was left of the CIS when she was finished. The Jedi had agreed to that. The Mandalorians hadn't been too pleased that they would be unable to extract their pound of flesh from her, but had agreed that reversing the aging process was more important than revenge.
And now her work was nearly finished. It really was child's play. Even with the primitive equipment that the Jedi had supplied her. Fortunately for her sake, she was intimately familiar with the Clone's genetic code and making the required changes to it was easier than it sounded. Perhaps another week and her work would be done. She had toyed with the idea of delaying her work, but the Jedi had assigned some of their healers to oversee her and they had enough of an understanding of genetics to see when she was deliberately stalling. Not enough to complete the work on their own, but enough to know what she was doing.
Hearing the door to her lab open, she saw Jedi Master Che enter her lab. The Chief Healer of the Jedi Order was known as something of an ultra-conservative within the Order, but her skill as a healer was unrivaled. Che had her usual stern look on her face as she walked up to her.
"Master Che," Ko Sai said in greeting in her cultured voice.
"Ko Sai," replied Che.
"What may I do for you today Master Jedi?"
"For me, nothing. But for the Clones, quite a lot. I've come to check on your progress."
"I am nearly finished. Perhaps another standard week and the accelerated aging will be reversed. I believe that I have to process finished now, however it will take some time to run the models to ensure that there are no unwanted side effects."
"Excellent. I'm sure the men of the GAR will be pleased to hear that. Now, if your work is done for the day, you will accompany me to the High Council Chamber. The High Council has allowed Supreme Chancellor Skywalker to hold your trial there. You will enter your guilty plea as previously agreed upon and your sentence will be passed. As agreed, you will not be surrendered to the Mandalorians, the Empire or the CIS. Nor will you receive the death penalty."
"I understand Master Che. Thank you for agreeing not to terminate my existence."
Nodding her head curtly, Master Che gestured to the door where a squad of Clones was waiting to escort her. Steeling herself, Ko Sai glided out of her lab to face her destiny.
"Ugh!" With a rush, Q'ira's breath shot from her lungs as she was slammed, again, onto the mat in the training facility. Across from her was her opponent, Shysai Carmtru, a soldier in Master Kota's militia force. Q'ira had originally been joking with Han about joining the Special Forces. But now she was actually doing it. And part of her enlisting was being trained in the combat art of Teras Kasi. Overseeing them was Master Plo Koon. The former Jedi High Council Member was still suffering from the injuries he sustained over Caamas and could only stand for short periods of time before being forced back into his hoverchair, but he was still a Teras Kasi Master and what he could no longer do, he could still teach.
Q'ira had been training for six weeks now and was starting to miss Promixa. All the punishment she was taking learning how to truly fight was leaving her more black and blue than Promixa ever did. But it was worth it. For the first time in a very long time she had a feeling of true self worth. Day by day, despite getting routinely thrown to the ground in training, she was gaining in confidence and belief in herself. As her body adapted to the rigors of military training she found out things about herself that she never would have believed were in her.
Rolling onto her knees, her lungs fought to suck in the air she needed. As her breathe slowly came back to her, she struggled to her feet, and dropped back into her ready pose facing her opponent. For her part, Shysai was already moving towards her. A rapid flurry of strikes followed one after the other. Fists, feet, arms and legs flew at her from every direction. Q'ira countered as rapidly as possible, trying desperately to block the strikes. She was somewhat successful, though she still took a fair few number of blows. But then it was her turn. And she immediately launched into her own somewhat clumsier attack. To Q'ira's credit, she actually managed to land a few strikes of her own before, once again, taking an armored boot to the stomach and getting launched backwards onto the mats with the breath knocked out of her again.
Tapping his staff on the floor of the training room, Plo Koon called out, "Time!"
Slowly climbing to her feet and rubbing her stomach, Q'ira turned to face the Kel Dor Jedi Master and executed a shallow bow along with Shysai. Force, but her stomach hurt. That last kick was a killer.
Rising to his feet, Plo Koon looked at the two women training before him and smiled under his mask. Shysai was already an adept at the art while Q'ira was rapidly advancing as a novice. The two women would be formidable fighters one day. And they would need to be. As members of the Special Forces, they would more than likely end up facing Sidious's Sith Warriors eventually. And that was the other reason for the emphasis on training in Teras Kasi. It allowed those who were not Force Sensitive to close their minds off to the Force and prevent them from being influenced by the Sith. Or the Jedi.
"I am extremely proud of both of you," Plo Koon said. "You have taken to the arts of Teras Kasi faster than I thought possible. It will serve you in good stead as you leave Tython to serve the Republic. Now, I believe the two of you both have other training classes to attend to. Visit the refreshers and then be on your way."
Bowing together, the two women answered, "Yes, Master."
Straigtening up from her bow, Q'ira made her way to the 'fresher and began to remove her training robes. Practitioners of Teras Kasi all wore distinctive robes not too dissimilar to the Jedi's in their style. Force she was aching. As she stood under the scalding hot water of the refresher, the water jets slowly pounded away some of her aches and pains. Drying off, she put on her grey uniform with it's rank insignia of Private First Class and unit flashes for Republic Special Forces and headed off to one of the classrooms. One of the ARC Clones, Darman Skirata, was teaching them how to blow things up in the most effective and efficient way possible today.
The shock wave from the blast rolled over him. Dirt cascaded down on him after the shock wave had passed. And only then did he hear the rumble from the blast. Where in the Nine Corellian Hells did Promixa get her hands on an AT-TE? That last shot from it's mass driver cannon had nearly killed him. As Han knocked off some of the dirt that was clinging to him, he rolled onto his belly, and crawled to the top of the shell crater he had taken cover in. Pulling his blaster rifle to his shoulder, he peered through the targeting scope and sucked his breath in.
Those two crazy Jedi he was here with were bounding across the moonscape of no man's land between the CorSec force and Proxima's fortress with what seemed like reckless abandon. The two men had their lightsabers lit and were busy deflecting shot after shot back at the Black Sun defenders. Those two nuts were going to get their brains blown out. Proxima's hideout was far better defended than he had ever dreamed. A lot of the defenses were obviously new, having been added since his and Q'ira's escape, but more had been so well camouflaged that he had never even suspected that there was anything there.
Shifting his aim point slightly, Han lightly squeezed the trigger and put a blaster bolt right between the eyes of a Rodian merc less than a second before the merc fired his own blaster toward Han. Shifting targets, he began methodically sending blaster bolts down range, doing his best to give those crazy Jedi covering fire. Fortunately, he was not alone in this. An entire battalion from CorSec was with them for the assault while above them a full squadron of Lancet Interceptors were conducting airstrikes.
Just then, the AT-TE that was causing them so many problems seemed to shudder and then explode into a million pieces. Looking to his right, Han asked the man next to him, "What just happened?"
Laughing the soldier told him, "The Jedi! They got inside its defenses, slapped some gods awful big charges to its belly and blew it to hell!"
Han had heard the stories of what the Jedi were capable of, but this was something else entirely. What was next? Having one rip a Star Destroyer from orbit? With a roar, the men around him began to advance, charging over the rubble of the city that had surrounded Proxima's lair. Men still fell, but most of them survived the mad charge. Together with the Jedi, they blew open the blast doors that had sealed the fortress shut. As their assault force poured into the fortress, Han found himself leading a company of men deeper and deeper into the warren of underground tunnels that Proxima called home. Directing men left and right, the company swiftly secured the slave quarters and freed the underfed street urchins that Proxima used and abused for her own gain.
Next up was the armory. Unlike the slaves, this was guarded and a fierce firefight erupted. The hallway was soon filled with smoke that was weirdly lit as blaster bolts flew up and down the hall. On both sides, men and women switched to thermal and infrared sights. Well, except for those who naturally saw in that spectrum. They now had the ultimate advantage, and they used it to fullest. Casualties quickly mounted on both sides as the fighting intensified. Men fell around him, though Han himself seemed to have a smuggler's luck as more than a few bolts had blazed by him close enough to burn holes in his jacket, but he had so far managed to avoid getting hit.
Pulling a concussion grenade from his belt, Han lobbed it towards the Black Sun gangsters holding the armory. As the grenade detonated, the remaining CorSec men with him rushed the armory. It was then that an automated turret opened up on them and quickly cut the men down, forcing Han and the pitifully few men remaining with him back. Han was racking his brain trying to come up with a way to push through, but he didn't have the men and the CorSec officers that had been with him were all dead. He was just on the verge of ordering his remaining men to fall back when, through the smoke and dust, a silver lightsaber appeared. The Jedi had managed to get around behind the gangsters. How, Han didn't know. And he really didn't care. All he cared about was the path of destruction that those two lightsabers were carving.
Practically weeping in relief, Han and the men with him began to advance again. As they reached the armory Han's draw dropped. No wonder the men here had fought so hard. This wasn't the armory at all. It was one of Proxima's treasure vaults. There was enough loot cached away inside to run the Galactic Government for at least a day. The items inside were worth more credits than Han could imagine.
Turning to the Jedi Han asked, "How did you get behind them? And can you believe what's in here?!"
Speaking for both of them, Nejaa replied, "We accomplished our mission, then left to find you when we realized that your force hadn't met up with us yet. And no, I can't. I thought you said that was an armory?"
"I did. That's what we were always told it was. Nobody ever bothered to actually check it though. There were always guards on it."
"Well, we can use it. Those credits will go a long way to taking care of the slaves we rescued today. Now, lets get this loaded up and get out of here. The CorSec troopers monitoring the security holos in the sector have made sure to edit us out of the footage, but it would still be best not to tempt fate and risk an Imperial response."
That Han could readily agree with. He loved his home planet dearly, but all he wanted right now was to get back to Q'ira. The fight here had brought into sharp relief just how easily he could die. And he didn't want to die without making an honest woman out of Q'ira. He knew she would have a lot to tell him when he got home, but he planned to drop to one knee and ask her to be his wife before she could say a single thing.