"I feel like we keep arriving late to the party," Erithon said dryly to Jorgan and Dorne as they entered the Thul warehouse uncontested.
A young man dressed in Organa colors ordered a group of beaten, grumbling Thul guards into a makeshift holding cell at the back of the building. The same guards that Erithon and the rest of Havoc Squad had expected to be battling themselves, but apparently someone had beaten them to the punch… literally.
The man tapped a code into the keypad with relish, and the forcefield lit up the doorway, sealing the indignant guards inside. He grinned and turned to Erithon, rushing over with a look of awe. "You're with the Republic?"
"Havoc Squad. You're with House Organa?"
"Brant Sonn, sir," he replied with a bow.
Definitely from here, Erithon thought. "Wait…" Erithon frowned at the young man, recalling the briefing. "Brant Sonn? One of the hostages?"
"Yes!" He answered with a shade too much enthusiasm, pausing to compose the rest of his answer thoughtfully. "The Wolf Baron freed us when the diplomat turned herself in. We came for her as soon as we'd heard what happened. We couldn't allow a friend of our house to remain under Thul's hold, not after she sacrificed herself for us."
"Was anyone hurt? I mean, besides…" Erithon nodded toward the bruised Thul guards, ensconced safely behind the forcefield.
Brant grinned. "No, sir, but the diplomat was sedated, we think. She's a Jedi, so we-"
Erithon grasped the other man's shoulder. "The Jedi. Where is she?"
"There, with the Duke, still in the other cell." Brant pointed toward the other storage area where Charle Organa paced restlessly behind a slicer working at unlocking the forcefield. Beyond the crackling barrier, Erithon could just make out a human form.
"Thanks. Jorgan, see if there's anything else we can do for Brant here. Dorne, with me." He clapped Brant gratefully on the shoulder before turning toward the duke.
Organa looked up as they approached, his surprise lasting only a moment before being replaced by relief and gratitude. "Lieutenant! Please, tell me you've brought medical supplies."
"Yes, sir," Erithon answered, just as the slicer made one final adjustment. The glowing shield dropped, allowing Erithon, Elara, and Duke Organa to finally reach the unconscious occupant.
The prone figure was swathed in neutral shades, and a glimpse of dusky blonde hair peeked out from under the familiar hood. No, no, this isn't what I meant when I-
The sickening lurch in his stomach almost sent Erithon to the dusty floor of the warehouse.
Aitahea.
"What in blazes happened?" Erithon demanded as he rushed to her side and yanked off his gloves. Elara dropped to the floor beside them, digging through her kit.
Duke Organa scowled furiously while he hovered. "They drugged her. Some kind of gas. Barbarians. Can you wake her?"
It looked like she'd been tossed unceremoniously over a shipping container after the drug had taken effect; the very thought set Erithon's teeth grinding. He scooped the unconscious Jedi into a sitting position, pushing her hood back and shifting gently to let her head rest on his armored shoulder. She was white as the snow outside, lashes stark black against hollow cheeks. Biting back a particularly vicious curse, he pressed his fingers to her neck and exhaled sharply when he found a steady pulse. Elara Dorne finished her search and pulled out a handful of stims, efficiently scanning the labels before passing one to the waiting lieutenant.
"Antidote for general sedatives, sir."
Erithon wasted no time in pressing the stim to Aitahea's throat, watching anxiously as the medication worked its way into her system. He let the empty cartridge fall away, cradling her cheek in one hand as he waited for a response. "Come on, Jedi."
The trooper held his breath while she stirred. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened, green eyes clouded as she focused on his face.
"Oh. Lieutenant." A slow blink drew her eyes closed for a long moment before opening again to reveal a dreamy smile. "I was just thinking of you."
He broke into a wide grin, elated and undeniably pleased. "If we keep meeting like this, Master Jedi, I might start getting ideas." He closed his arms around her, unable to hide the deep sigh of relief that rushed out. "How is it you end up in my arms every time we meet?"
She gave a soft laugh, for a fleeting moment nothing more than a pretty girl amused by his witty banter. She lifted a hand and tapped gently on his chest plate. "I received your message, but I haven't had a chance to watch it."
Now it was his turn to laugh, only to be interrupted by the understated sound of Elara clearing her throat. Erithon started, realizing he still had Aitahea cradled close, his thumb idly brushing the curve of her cheek. Erithon spared a glance toward Duke Organa, who had watched their reunion unfold with a charmed expression. Erithon self-consciously dropped his hand from Aitahea's face and hastened to help her sit upright while Elara thoughtfully offered the Jedi water. Aitahea gave the other woman a grateful smile, then looked toward Duke Organa.
"Your Grace. Are the hostages safe?"
"Indeed, and once free they immediately came to your aid."
Aitahea blinked, brow knitting. "They came… for me?"
"Without hesitation."
Aitahea nodded solemnly, thoughts elsewhere for a beat before finally lifting the container of water to her lips with trembling hands. Erithon hovered protectively at her side, frowning when he realized her already-slight form was thinner than on Taris. It had been months, of course, but… what had happened since then?
Elara leaned closer, peering carefully at Aitahea. "Master Jedi, I'm Sergeant Elara Dorne." The sergeant glanced briefly at Erithon before continuing her queries. "How do you feel? Any pain or discomfort?"
"Woozy, Sergeant, but I expect that's normal, thank you. A vast improvement from a few minutes ago. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise."
"Lieutenant," Aitahea turned back to Erithon, eyes clearer than they'd been moments ago, color returning to her cheeks. "What are you doing here?"
"We're the cavalry, of course." Erithon jerked a thumb back over one shoulder. "Been helping the Duke out with his troublesome neighbors. We were supposed to rescue some diplomat," he intoned, playing at charming nonchalance. Aitahea's lips curled in a smile again. "But it seems the folks you helped felt they needed to return the favor first. We just brought the medkit."
"Oh!" Aitahea marveled, eyes aglow, as she pieced together the last few hours. "It was you who took back the Spears!"
"Guilty as charged, Master Jedi," Erithon replied, basking in her attention. She'd been in his thoughts so often. He'd found himself scanning through his messages for her name every time he'd had a reasonable signal. There'd been no more dreams of her since Taris – at least not of them as children again, anyway – and this wasn't the exact reunion he'd hoped for, but having her whole and close was better than he could have asked, even under these unusual circumstances.
Then again, this was starting to look more like the norm for them.
"It seems you two know each other." Organa's eyes danced, amusement lightening his knowing tone.
Aitahea's eyes flickered from the duke to Erithon and back, her smile shy but bright. "On Taris, Your Grace, we retrieved impossibly valuable data from the wreck of an old starship. The mission was a great success."
"I beg your pardon, Master Jedi, but I think it's advisable that you see a medic once we've returned to Organa Castle," Elara interrupted, gathering up the few items she'd removed from her pack. "Otherwise your condition seems to be improving rapidly."
Aitahea nodded, her attention shifting past the sergeant to where Qyzen Fess and Aric Jorgan approached, led by Brant Sonn. "Good. Because I don't think we're finished here."
Erithon observed the scowl on Jorgan's face before turning back to Aitahea, rising slowly but steadily. "Are you sure you're up for that? You were out cold just a few minutes ago."
"Whatever your companion administered is working quickly, and I have the Force with me, as always. All will be well." Aitahea studied him, and he couldn't help shuffling sheepishly under her reserved scrutiny. "I am… so pleased to see you, Lieutenant."
He shrugged casually, but a gratifying warmth had settled quite firmly in his chest. "Erithon is fine, you know, if it's okay with you."
Her lips parted, the shade of a smile appearing before she looked toward their waiting allies.
"We have a problem," Jorgan said. "The Thul army is on the march again. General?" He lifted a holocomm, the bluish projection brightening the dark corner of the warehouse as General Kashim appeared.
"It is good to see you alive. Matters are moving quickly, and House Organa is in dire need of reinforcement."
"What can we do to help?" Aitahea asked, steadying herself with a hand on Erithon's arm. He found himself biting his lip to avoid interrupting the Jedi with an admonishment for offering her assistance, knowing full well – after a moment of careful consideration – that she knew her boundaries better than he would. As much as he wanted her out of harm's way, that wasn't in the cards for either of them.
"The Empire has sent several Sith apprentices to support the Thul army. Organa soldiers are proving no match."
Those gathered murmured their concern, but Aitahea looked positively alarmed. "Sith, even apprentices, are not to be trifled with."
"We're used to fighting blasters," Brant Sonn added with a deep frown. "Not the Force."
Kashim continued over the holo. "So long as the Sith are in place, we cannot win this battle. You must make a full assault on their war camps immediately."
Aitahea dropped her head, resignation darkening her words. "It seems peace must wait."
"This is the greatest challenge House Organa has faced. If we win, Thul will be repelled, and we can go on the offensive."
"Aitahea, I can hardly ask you to risk yourself once again, but it seems I have no choice," Charle Organa added, shaking his head in disbelief. "If we lose, House Organa will be forced into exile."
Aitahea drew a sharp breath at his admission, fingers tightening on Erithon's armored wrist. "Your Grace, I will not allow that to happen."
Organa smiled tightly. "I expected nothing less from a paladin of my house. And you have strong, courageous allies." The duke nodded at Erithon, who returned a practiced salute.
"May the Force be with you," General Kashim added as his final word, and the comm went dark.
The Jedi lifted her eyes to Erithon's again, clear and determined. "We have work to do."
