Chapter IX – Return to Crater Command
"Hey," I heard Brand's voice near my ear as a hand touched my arm.
I flinched at the contact and jerked my hand up defensively, my eyes flying open to see Brand crouched down where Watcher One had been moments ago. "Don't touch me!" I snapped.
Brand pulled back in surprise. "Easy now, the Watcher told me I better come check on you. You seemed out of it, mumbling incoherently."
I glanced around the room and noticed Watcher One and his men were gone. "How long?"
"The Watcher's men called me in from the rubble I was hiding behind, maybe five minutes ago."
I shifted to get up, "is he safe?"
Brand watched me struggle to right myself, seeming to want to help me but afraid to reach out. "Yeah, his ship was coming down when I came to get you."
I managed to get to my feet, feeling less vertigo, and took a couple of tentative steps toward the exit. Flashes of dying men crossed my vision, and I could not help seeing the carnage in the room. The darkness inside me was surging upward like a tide, and I struggled to control it. After a few more steps, I realized that I could not, that a surge of the Force was coming out of me, and I could not contain it.
I looked at the lieutenant, who was eyeing me strangely. "Get out," I barked.
"What?" he asked in surprise.
"Get out before I hurt you, and don't let anyone back in." He hesitated, giving me a concerned look. I could already feel the Force lightning begin to tingle on my hands, the ghosts within mocking me. "Go!" I yelled as I raised my hands to show him the sparkling blue energy beginning to bloom at my fingertips.
He ran then through the heavy doors and down the hall.
I tried one last time to regain control, but the energy inside me was too powerful and surged out of my hands as forking purple lightning, striking lights, control panels, and furnishings in a sizzling, burning spray. Sparks flew as equipment exploded, yet the energy continued to stream out of me.
There was a moment when I was afraid that I would burn up; be consumed by the Force. Searing pain traveled up my arms and made me scream. The ghosts rose up to help me then, realizing the rage they had fueled would immolate us all. With their help, I pushed the energy away from my body, shielding it with a Force ward. The purple storm continued to surge, forming a swirling lightning wall around me.
I could not stop the horrible guilt that burned over me, could not unsee the faces of those I had just maimed or killed. Howling and thrashing, I threw the energy out of me, hating the thing I had become. The lights were all destroyed, and in that dark room with only the lightning's aura and sparking equipment, I raged on until the storm within me was finally spent.
When at last, the remaining sparkle of lightning flickered out at my fingers, I collapsed to the floor in a numb heap, unsure of what just happened, unsure that I could be normal again, unsure I wanted to live.
The room was silent except for the spattering sparkle of sparks popping out of the destroyed equipment. I don't know how long I lay in the dark, but footfalls echoed softly near the door.
"You okay?" Brand whispered softly after a moment.
I waited, hoping he would leave me, but he waited too. "I told you to leave," I replied hoarsely, shame and hopelessness twisting my insides.
"I did," he whispered back, "but I can't abandon you."
Why? I thought in my mind. I would run like a bat out of hell from someone as unstable as me. "You are supposed to be rescuing the Watcher," I protested weakly.
"They're all boarded and ready."
"Is he leaving then?"
"Not really," Brand replied, "he wants to take us with him, something about reporting to Toxic Lake."
"I'm not going to Toxic Lake!" I hissed in frustration.
"I'm not that excited about the idea either, and the commander would kill me for losing the speeder, but I would like to catch up with Jaks and make sure he's all right." He flicked on his helmet lights and scanned the room, finding me crumpled up on the floor, shaking.
I heard him moving towards me and threw my hand up to ward him off. "Stay back!" I snapped harshly. I did not want him to see me at my worst.
"What can I do?" he replied softly, his voice colored with concern.
"Nothing," I hissed, "I don't want your pity!" It was mean and hateful, and I felt worse for saying it, but it would drive him away, which I needed. "Go and tell the Watcher I will be there shortly," I added, hoping to take the sting off my outburst.
He was about ten steps from me, hesitating, his harsh helmet lights illuminating me like some obscene spectacle.
"Go! And get those damn lights out of my face!"
That got him to move. He backtracked to the heavy doors, hesitated again, and then headed down the hall and away from me. Alone and in the dark, I rose to my knees. It felt like I was in control again, that I could think and act like myself, but it was precarious as if my composure was held together with a thread. There was a lump of emotions stuck in my chest, and I fought desperately to hold them in. Was I going to cry, scream in fear, or rage with anger? I could not tell and dared not test which emotion would burst forth first. It was best to remain numb, to hold it all in and force it down again.
They were waiting for me, and I did not want to go insane in a dark room on a broken planet, so I forced myself to rise and walk toward the exit. As I approached the light of the exterior, I pulled my hood further out over my face, not wanting to see the eyes watching me with fear, horror, or pity.
I emerged into the large tunnel to see the military shuttle had landed near where the republic carriers used to be parked. The shuttle ramp was down, and the Watcher was standing at the bottom with his captain. Brand was standing by his speeder to the side of the shuttle, observing me.
"Ah, good," the Watcher said as I approached, "for a moment, I was worried for you, my Lord."
"I told you I was fine," I replied softly.
"Of course," he nodded curtly, "we can take you back to Toxic Lake. There's room on board."
"I'm not going that way, Watcher. I've got a recon officer and his speeder to return to his company." I gave Brand a glance as I spoke.
"Well, I'm afraid I must insist. Colonel Hurdenn requires that my team return to his command straight away to report in." The Watcher turned to Brand before I could rebut him. "Where is your assignment, soldier?"
"Crater Base," Brand said with a sideways glance at me.
"I see. Forward most Imperial position, nasty situation I've heard. We can carry your speeder on our ship, it has an equipment rack capable of holding it, and if necessary, I will return you to Crater Base myself," he looked at me then, "the ship can get you there faster than a speeder."
I was still numb from what just happened and did not trust myself to argue further, so I nodded my head in agreement.
Watcher One directed his men to lock down the speeder and ushered us onto the ship. He led us past the remainder of his combat team strapping themselves into bench seats in the back bay of the ship. The crew stowing the speeder came up the ship's ramp and hit the button to close up.
"Captain, get us out of here," the Watcher stated in a commanding tone.
"Yes, sir," came a sharp reply from the cockpit.
"Have a seat," he said to Brand as he pointed to an empty technician's chair just behind a bulkhead separating the main compartment from the cockpit. He stopped at the bulkhead and urged me through. "To the right, my Lord."
There was a small commander's ready room just behind the captain's seat with wall-mounted chairs on both sides and a small black metal table jutting out from the wall in between. The left side had some personal effects and a briefcase, so I sat on the right side just in time to feel the ship lifting off.
The Watcher went to the cockpit, and I heard muffled talking for a moment, and then he appeared in the doorway and came to sit opposite me. "We are away without incident, it seems," he said with a somewhat heavy voice. "I suppose it is appropriate to thank you now, my Lord. You bailed my team and me out of a sticky situation . . ." his voice trailed off as he leaned closer. "By the dual suns, you have injuries!" He exclaimed.
I knew my hands felt bad but was still too stunned to pay attention to them. When the Watcher cried out, I looked down into my lap and saw the swollen red and purple fingers with white blisters beginning to form.
"We need a medic in here," the Watcher called out.
"I'll be all right," I protested.
"Those are terrible burns and should be treated immediately."
"I'll take care of it," I heard Brand's voice as he pushed into the ready room with a medical kit. The Watcher rose and backed out so Brand could sit next to me and open the kit. He fumbled around with the boxes and canisters until he found a package of bacta-patches.
"I'm not wearing those on my hands," I sighed as he struggled to open the pack.
"Will you shut up and let me help you for once," he snapped.
Strangely, it made me smile a little to get a rise out of him. He tossed the pack back in the kit and rummaged around a little more.
"Here, this is a burn spray," he said more hopefully, "can I use this?"
"Fine," I huffed.
He popped the cap, shook the cylinder, and then paused to read the labels. "It doesn't say it will sting."
"Just do it; they hurt so bad it won't matter." He leaned close and reached a hand out, but I jerked away. "Don't touch me!" I hissed.
He stood up stiffly and paced away from me, containing whatever outburst he wanted to hurl at me. Stepping back to my side, he motioned at the table. "Put them out over the table then." When I held my pathetic hands out, he unceremoniously sprayed them with a full open nozzle back and forth, motioning for me to turn them over before spraying again. Thankfully, there was a potent analgesic in the spray and a cooling sensation that doused the searing heat that radiated from my digits. I pulled my hands back and tried to hide them in my cloak after he was finished.
Brand capped the spray, tossed it back into the kit, then took a cloth and wiped off the metal table where the spray missed my hands. He closed the medical kit and then slid into the seat opposite me, rubbing his hand over his face.
I lifted my head to look at him from under my hood; his intense green eyes stared back at me. "Thank you," I whispered softly. He continued to stare, which irritated me. "What are you staring at?"
"Eerie amber eyes," he replied thoughtfully.
"A monster," I added.
"I didn't say that," he countered.
"You might as well have."
"We all have a monster inside," he whispered.
He was right, and his words doused my self-hate as effectively as the burn spray on my fingers. I looked away from him, wondering if he meant to be so profound with that statement. How could simple words give me hope after what I had done?
"Leave me now; I want to be alone." I looked out the window and ignored him, realizing that he had stirred both hope and care within me, and now I was vulnerable. He hesitated a moment before shifting out of his seat and leaving the room.
I watched the broken landscape fly by under the ship and listened to the muffled talking and loud drone of the engines for a while before the Watcher stepped back into the ready room.
"All taken care of, I hope?" I nodded my head under the hood of my cloak. "Very good," he added as he took a seat opposite me. "As I was saying, I owe you a debt of gratitude."
"You should commend Major Pillus and his recon staff, led by Lieutenant Issacar in the back. They are the ones who urged the rescue mission."
"And what of you, my Lord. I don't even know your name?"
"It might be better that way, Watcher. I'm on an important mission of my own and should remain covert."
"Surely you can't expect me to leave it like that?" he complained.
I looked into his dark eyes, sensing he seemed sincere. Something within me urged honesty. I had to start trusting people at some point, my mind argued. "I fear the debt you would assume is much greater than I wish you to bear."
He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
"Do you know of a Darth Thanaton?"
"I do," he nodded.
"Well, he was at odds with my master, Darth Zash, and she is now dead." I paused to let the words sink in. "Thanaton has quoted some obscure Sith tradition to request that Darth Zash's entire power base be liquidated as well. That would include me."
"I see," the Watcher nodded, his face darkening with concern.
I suddenly grew nervous that my confession would make the Watcher turn against me. "I came to Taris to complete a mission for my former master. It was of great importance, and I did not want it to go unfulfilled. It is extremely time-sensitive, and I have already been delayed."
"My Lord," he replied in a softer tone, "Imperial Intelligence serves at the behest of the Dark Council and the Sith hierarchy." His statement sounded ominous, and my hand slid in my lap toward the hilt of my lightsaber. "The Minister of Intelligence and the Handler Cabinet have made it their determined intent, however, to stand apart from the power intrigue within the Dark Council and broader Sith structure. We would tear ourselves apart if we were to react to the whims of individual Lords or Darths."
He paused, and we stared at each other uneasily. "Darth Thanaton has already tried to kill me, and when he determines he did not succeed, will inevitably try again. I'm afraid our meeting has been a bit of bad luck for you."
"Intelligence has handled irritable Sith Lords before, if you don't mind me saying," he waved his hand dismissively for effect. "Do you know a Darth Angral?"
"I've heard of him, but that is about all."
"The Jedi you fought moments ago killed his son on Coruscant. He is beyond reason with rage, and when he realized that the Jedi was on Taris insisted that I have my men revenge his son. You can see how well that worked out for my team and me."
"Watcher," I complained, "you are not giving me any comfort by telling me that I now have two Darth Lords against me."
"Like I said, my Lord, Imperial Intelligence has been able to go to the Dark Council to urge restraint on angry and inciteful Sith seeking to damage the Empire with their rage. I will go to my superiors and insist that they intervene on our behalf."
"I appreciate that, but I fear Thanaton is too powerful for you to help." I looked out the small portal window at the strange broken landscape moving under the ship. My mind drifted toward Elios and Commander Pillus for some odd reason, and I turned back to the Watcher.
"How well do you know Watcher Three?"
"Well enough, I suppose, he has been with Intelligence longer than I; seems like a good man. Why do you ask?"
"My master borrowed one of his agents some time back, a man named Elios Maliss. He's up on the Imperial Station in orbit and is very concerned that his involvement with me will get him liquidated. He's done good work and does not deserve that fate."
"Maliss," the Watcher said thoughtfully, "I believe I've heard that name mentioned from time to time." His dark eyes connected with mine, "I appreciate your concern for our people, my Lord. To be honest with you, it is a bit refreshing. I will make sure that Watcher Three gets his man back."
"The commander at Crater Base has been helpful as well. It would be a shame if the fallout about me somehow affected him or his team. As you can see, I had good reason to stay covert, Watcher."
"Indeed," he sighed. "I don't know you, my Lord, but my impression from your actions and words just now is a good one. I have my own skin to save and have little interest in endangering yours any further. If you wish to tell me more about your plan, I could see if Intelligence can help."
"I feel that would be unwise," I replied, "the less you know about me, the less Thanaton can use against you. I can complete my mission; I just need a clear path to it with no more distractions."
"Very well," he nodded, seeming to understand my attitude. "You wish to return to Crater Command Base, is that closest to your target?"
"It is," I nodded.
"Then I will ensure you get there with minimal delay."
"Thank you," I said softly.
The Watcher got up to check on the ship's progress but stopped at the bulkhead. "My name's Urnstead, Larn Urnstead, I think you've earned the right to move past titles."
"My name's Kallig, Tishmaly Kallig." I was not sure why I told him my name; it just seemed right.
He nodded and turned toward the cockpit. I looked back out the window and noticed that we were approaching Toxic Lake already. The ship banked slightly and angled toward the metal landing pads. In the leveled concrete area of the base, I could see the Watcher's troop carriers and Jaks' speeder. They had made it out safely, and military teams were doing checks on the equipment.
The ship put down, and the back door opened. I saw Watcher One move to the back and heard medical teams coming into the crew bay to assess the wounded. Lieutenant Issacar poked his head through the bulkhead towards me.
"Your friend made it," I said as I jabbed my thumb toward the window. "You should go check on him."
He nodded at me and disappeared. I sat quietly for a moment and was unsure what to do. It seemed proper to exit the ship and make introductions, but I really did not want to. Any sort of interaction I could have with Colonel Hurdenn could only lead to complications, just as it had with meeting Watcher One and Commander Pillus. I did not want to be rude or deceptive, but it seemed right to keep my distance.
The ship cleared out except for the pilot, who eyed me apprehensively and loitered in his cockpit. Some military code probably forced a pilot to remain at the controls if someone outside his command was aboard, but I stayed seated anyway. Glancing out the window, I could see Brand and Jaks talking excitedly next to Jaks' speeder. Toxic Lake personnel were abustle trying to meet the needs of Watcher Ones injured, though the personnel carriers were quieter, indicating that they had reached base some time before us.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. The numbness I felt earlier was passing, but I dared not poke at the mass of emotions still tight in my chest. My honesty with the Watcher came into focus again as I rested and started second-guessing myself. Despite the Watcher's words, I knew there was nothing that Imperial Intelligence could do to dissuade Thanaton from his quest to kill me. All the information I shared could now be used against me, the Watcher, and anyone else Thanaton wanted to sweep up in his personal crusade against me. It took about ten minutes before I heard footsteps on the ship's ramp and muffled voices approaching.
"Captain," I heard the Watcher's voice call out, "prep the ship for flight."
"Yes, sir, where to?"
"Crater Command. You should have the coordinates."
I looked out the window to see Jaks' speeder being moved and then spun my head back to the bulkhead when I heard the Watcher step into the ready room.
"We'll be underway in a moment, my Lord."
A commotion at the back of the ship drew the Watcher away. I tried to listen, but the voices were too soft to compete with the equipment humming in the cockpit. I looked outside but could not see anything other than the troop carriers and bare concrete up to the base's dura-crete battle wall.
"I'm sorry, sir," I heard more clearly because the voice was raised, "you don't have permission to leave."
"I wasn't aware that I needed permission, Major," the Watcher replied tersely.
"I . . . well," the major reacted, "this is a military zone, and all ships must have clearance."
"I'm not under your command, Major."
"I realize that sir, but your ship is in my airspace."
More footsteps could be heard on the metal ramp of the ship. "What is the meaning of this?" I heard the colonel's voice clearly, "you haven't been debriefed, and some of your men are still in critical condition."
"My mission is not complete, Colonel," the Watcher replied firmly, "and as such, it is my purview to ask for any accommodation or support necessary from your command."
It seemed wrong to sit idly by and let the Watcher argue on my behalf, so I rose from my seat and walked through the bulkhead to see the colonel and his major standing with several soldiers on the top of the ramp.
"I assumed the mission was complete." The colonel stated before his eyes noticed me. I saw his gaze drift to my side where the lightsaber hung, and with my black cloak, he could not mistake my status as a Sith. "Who is this?" he blurted before realizing that it might not have been his place to ask the question.
Watcher One turned to notice me. "This is Lord Kallig; she rescued my team and me."
"I was unaware that a Sith was involved in your mission; apologies, my Lord," he said with a slight nod in my direction.
"She wasn't," the Watcher said flatly, "and it was a mistake that my men and I paid dearly for." He gave me another glance. "In hindsight, it seems obvious that the Jedi would get involved with protecting Doctor Godera. I should have been more careful."
Colonel Hurdenn seemed perplexed as his eyes drifted between the Watcher and me. "With all due respect, I cannot allow flights in the area of Crater Base; the Republic has the base surrounded and has made attempts to shoot our aircraft down. It's essentially a no-fly zone."
"We need to make an effort, Colonel; my mission demands it."
The colonel frowned. "I thought your mission was to collect Godera? He's with the Jedi now; I assume out of reach."
"There were intelligence elements to my mission which were not completed, Colonel. I'm not at liberty to discuss the classified nature of mission goals."
"I can get the Watcher in safely," Lieutenant Issacar spoke up as he came around the back of the ship with Jaks. "We know several spots within a klick of the bunker where the Republic defenses are weak."
The colonel turned to look down the ramp at the two recon soldiers. He did not seem happy.
"You heard the recon officer, Colonel. He can get us down safely. I only require a small team, and we will be in the area of Crater Base for less than an hour. Then I will return and give you a debriefing."
"Very well," Colonel Hurdenn grumbled, "but don't take risks out there. The Republic forces are on high alert after the altercation yesterday; it won't take much to get a response out of them."
"We will use the utmost discretion," the Watcher replied.
It was settled, and within minutes Watcher One had a few of his men board with Brand and Jaks, and we were off. I stayed with the recon men instead of going back to the ready room, sitting several seats away from Brand as the ship lifted off.
"Lieutenant said you gave 'em hell," Jaks said to me with a thin grin after a few moments, "said it was the coolest thing he's ever seen."
My eyes drifted to the lieutenant, who chose to look away. "I don't know if 'cool' is the right word to describe it."
"He said you blocked their blaster bolts with your lightsaber, and that you took on two armored commandos at one time." I looked into the young man's blue eyes and saw excitement in them. Strangely, I could not remember ever having someone be in awe of me before. "Can I see the lightsaber . . . I mean lit, you know, armed. I've never seen one up close."
"It's not a toy, Sergeant," I sighed.
"Yeah, it was just a thought," his countenance fell, and his eager eyes looked down at his hands.
I don't know why I succumbed to vanity, but in that moment, it felt like an antidote to the loathing inside of me, and my hand drifted toward the hilt of my saber. Unclicking it from my belt, I held it out into the space in front of us and ignited the blade. The rushing hum of the weapon filled the cargo bay of the ship and crimson blended with the austere military lighting.
Jaks eyes lit up with the glow of the weapon, and he actually leaned closer to look at the shimmering blade. "Wow," he sighed, "I've never seen one up close. It's remarkable. I can see a pattern in the light, like a current. It makes me want to reach out and touch it."
"That would be the dumbest thing you could ever do," I replied as I flicked off the blade and returned it to my belt. "No more tricks, Sergeant." I glanced over at Brand and saw him watching me thoughtfully. My gaze made him avert his eyes.
"Okay," Jaks sighed and glanced over at his friend, "and thanks . . . for the show and keeping my bud safe."
"No problem."
It seemed silly, almost pointless, but I felt good at that moment. The churning bitterness inside me seemed diminished, and the angry ghosts were quiet for a change. Somehow, despite the rage and horror of the battle just fought, I felt I had done something good, and people liked me.
Watcher One stepped through the bulkhead to interrupt my reverie. "We are approaching the no-fly zone, Lieutenant."
Brand got up and went to the cockpit to guide the ship in. It felt like we banked several times and took a while to come down to a landing, and when we finally settled to the ground, Brand and Watcher One's men scurried to the back of the ship and activated the ramp.
"Let's get the speeders ready and get the ship away quickly," Brand said to Jaks, who got up to follow his friend down the ramp. I got up and followed as well, noticing that we had landed in a tight clump of broken dura-crete and large trees. The soldiers were unstrapping the speeders and checking over their equipment when Watcher One came down the ramp to join us.
"Well, my Lord, I guess this is where we part."
I nodded, "thank you for getting me out of Toxic Lake."
"No problem," he grinned. "It wasn't all bluff; I want to go back to Doctor Godera's lab and do a second search. We left in a hurry when the Jedi showed up."
"Be careful," Brand said as he looked up from his speeder, "the Republic could have gone back as well."
"Right you are, Lieutenant; we will be cautious. I left some motion sensors around the lab. So far, they have not detected any activity, except yours from earlier, of course."
"Well, you'd better be off," Brand added, "my guess is the Republic probably saw something on their radar as we came down. They'll likely send a scouting party."
"Yes," the Watcher nodded, "your three be safe too. I hope there comes a time when we see each other again. Mount up, men," he snapped to the soldiers who had helped us. Brand and Jaks mounted their bikes, and then the lieutenant looked over at me sheepishly.
"I can let you drive," I grumbled as I walked up to his side, cringing to myself as I wrapped my leg over the bike behind him.
We sped off as the ship lifted behind us. I noticed that Jaks' bike was heavily laden with supplies for the bunker, and Brand kept a slower pace for his friend. We were close to the base, but still, we moved in bursts and used the landscape to our advantage. We even stopped once in cover, and Brand pointed to a Republic recon patrol moving past in the distance. Brand gunned the bike and covered the final distance without incident when we saw the bunker garage, passing through the shield portal just in front of Jaks. Finally, we were within the cover of the concrete bay, and the mechanic gave us a blank stare from nearly the exact spot where we left him.
I moved off the bike quickly and flipped the lid of the side compartment to pull out my satchel and was surprised to see Pez lying on top of my things. I reached in to pick up the droid, noticing several scorched marks on his black surface.
"I found it on the ground," Brand replied as he got off the bike next to me, "thought you might want it."
"It has to be fried," I replied as I turned it in my hand. "It took a blaster bolt straight in the face."
Captain Wraff came in through the back of the bay with two soldiers in tow, her stern gaze taking in her recon team and their bikes as she approached. "Welcome back, Lieutenant," she stated as her eyes shifted to me, "Lord," she added with a nod.
"I packed up as much stuff as the bike could carry," Jaks mentioned as he began to unstrap the cases and bags from the back of his speeder.
"Nice work," she replied, nodding at the two soldiers behind her, who moved to help the sergeant. "Commander wants you two to report in; he's in his office."
I bit back a sharp reply, feeling tired of the commander abusing his authority over me, but chose against it. I shouldered my satchel, stuffed Pez' inert form inside it, and stomped off in the direction that the captain had come.
Brand hurried to catch up to me at the stairs leading down into the center of the bunker. "Hey," he called to me softly, "I'm sure that wasn't an order . . . I mean . . ."
"Don't cover for him, Lieutenant," I snipped.
"Okay, but I didn't like having to stand there and listen to you two hotheads the last time . . ."
"Hothead!" I snapped as I stopped on the steps and spun on him, ironically proving his point. "Don't think we're all chummy now 'cause I've had to wrap my legs around you!"
He gave me a bewildered look, "of course not, I didn't think anything like that . . ."
I know he was not being impudent with me, but I lashed out at him anyway, making the good feeling I felt earlier suddenly sour. It was not his fault that I had issues about my past, and he was right; I was a hothead. Frustrated and disappointed, I dropped it and walked on in silence.
We reached the commander's office, and I stepped inside without knocking. He was looking through reports with a private and the medic and did not immediately address us. Medic Jayn gave us a half-smile as the commander flipped through the holographic pages.
"Looks complete," he stated. "Take it to the captain and have her check off the items that Jaks brought in, then send it off to the garrison." He dismissed his subordinates with a wave, and they filed out.
His gaze went to his friend first and then hardened slightly as it drifted to me. "Have a seat," he motioned to the chairs opposite his desk. I remained standing, wanting to assert my independence from the commander and his base. It was mid-afternoon already, and it would take me much of what was left of daylight to plan and prepare for my mission.
"So, you did it," he stated flatly, looking at me in irritation. "Colonel Hurdenn reported that the Watcher and his team were extracted and safe, at least until the Watcher took off again in his ship." He waited to see if either of us would elaborate, his eyes shifting from me to Brand. "Of course, it was suggested that the Watcher's mission was a failure and that you had something to do with that." The commander's gaze locked on me.
"I guess I'm just making a mess of everything," I snarked in irritation.
"That's Bantha shit!" Brand huffed. "The Watcher and his whole team would be Republic prisoners right now if it wasn't for us, and he knows it." The lieutenant turned his head toward me, "I mean you really. You were the one that saved him."
"Don't pander to me, Lieutenant," I complained, still annoyed by his 'hot head' comment. "It took a team effort."
"Well, I frankly don't give a crap," the commander said as he leaned back in his chair. "Delba Company met its obligation, the colonel is satisfied, and you brought my men back alive. I owe you one, Sith."
"Yes, you do," I said smoothly.
"Am I supposed to be worried?" he replied. "What do you want from me?"
"What I want, Commander, is to be left alone and free to go as I please. No more orders, requests, threats to report me, or deals to be negotiated."
"Fair enough," he shrugged, "you did what I asked, and I appreciate that. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No," I replied.
"Can I ask what your plan is?"
"It would be better if you didn't know."
"You already said you were going to infiltrate the Jedi enclave," he countered.
"I don't plan on having any interaction with the Jedi."
"She drove two of them off earlier, a master and padawan by their looks," Brand stated as he glanced over at me, "they carved up half of the Watcher's team and had him held captive."
"I was worried about that," the commander stated with a slow nod, "that's why I wanted you to go along. You didn't kill them?"
"Killing Jedi, Commander, is more complicated than it sounds, especially if you confront a well-trained one."
"The Jedi killed all of the Watcher's anti-Jedi shadow commandos," Brand added.
"They know you are here," the commander thought aloud, "are you concerned that fact might compromise your mission?"
"I don't think so," I replied, "my mission is obscure enough; I don't expect complications. If anything, you have been my biggest trouble."
His face tightened. "I assure you it was not intentional. I've got responsibilities, Lord, and I'm only doing what I think is best. Are you planning on leaving immediately?"
"It seems more prudent to wait until nightfall. Is there someplace I can review current intel and meditate on my mission?"
"Yeah, Brand can show you our intel and ops room. It's more of a closet without windows, but it will do." He rose to his feet opposite me. "I really appreciate you going with my friend and rescuing the Watcher; it means a lot to me."
"Hopefully, it serves the Empire," I replied, "and the time spent doesn't adversely affect my plans."
"I hope so too," the commander nodded.
Brand led me to the intel room. When we entered, there was a cyborg sitting at the end of the narrow space, surrounded by monitors and electronics. He gave us a long look with his strange electronic eyes but said nothing.
"That's Clix," Brand said, "he's wired into base security and intel; almost a permanent fixture up here. He doesn't talk much and shouldn't bother you." Brand pulled out a folding chair and set it up for me, brushing away a pile of electrical parts and reports on the small counter along one wall.
I sat down in the chair and set my bag up on the counter. "Is there a way that I can see the latest intel on the area around the Jedi enclave?"
"Sure," he replied, "my data-pad has the security clearance; let me set it up."
He knelt next to me on the floor and pulled out his tablet, taking time to show me the latest data on the enclave. The Republic forces around the bunker were thinly stretched, and the recon team had found a pattern to the Republic scouting patterns. As one got closer to the Republic Reclamation Zone, picket droids were stationed to monitor the movement of threats.
Brand then pulled up a video map of the land between the bunker and the Jedi enclave, and he showed me the cover I could move through to remain unseen by the Republic positions. I had to admit that his knowledge was helpful, saving me a lot of time to develop a plan on my own.
He leaned close to me while we worked together, and it felt comfortable. It was strange how experiencing intense situations with another person created a bond with them. Brand glanced at me with his green eyes several times while talking, and I could see concern and interest mixed in with his professional intensity. At one point, I noticed his eyes looking past me and followed his gaze to my satchel, which had sagged open to reveal Pez' charred surface.
"Hey," Brand said as he reached past me and picked up the droid, "Clix and Gearhead might be able to do something about your droid. What did you call him, Piz?"
"Pez," I replied, "and go ahead if you want to try. It looks hopeless to me."
Brand stood up, walked over to the cyborg, and began discussing the broken droid. I took the break to close my eyes. It had been a hectic and harrowing day so far, and I was still anxious about the emotional knot stuck in my chest. I heard Brand's voice echo, hothead, in my mind, and it made me sad. He was right; the anger inside of me had made me impatient and mean to people. I did not know what I could do to change what was happening to me, but I admitted to myself that I wanted it to change.
Brand came back to my side and knelt in front of his holo-pad. "Clix said he's never seen anything like your droid, but he'll see what he can do to fix it."
"Okay," I shrugged.
"So, where were we?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.
"I think we've covered everything. I appreciate your efforts; it's made my planning a lot easier."
"Good," he nodded, "that's what I was hoping for." We sat awkwardly for a minute. "I know you told the Commander that we're better off not knowing your mission, but I won't tell anyone, and if you get more specific, maybe I could help some more?"
"I appreciate that, but what you've given me is sufficient."
"Okay," he nodded, but he didn't look happy. His eyes looked down from mine, and I saw him looking at my hands. "You should have Jayn take a look at those," he said softly.
"They'll be all right."
We sat quietly for a moment, listening to the hum of electrical equipment. It seemed like Brand was stalling. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving," he added abruptly. "I'm going to grab something in the mess hall. I'll bring you lunch back." Without asking, he simply got up and left.
I continued to look through the maps and information while Brand was gone. At some point, Clix moved past me and left the intel room. Brand returned with a plate full of protein bars, energy drinks, and a cooked MRE that looked a little better than the one I had eaten the night before. I had ignored how hungry I was, and the food was sating. Brand went over some more details while I ate. When I finished eating and pushed the tray away from me on the small counter, Brand seemed to get edgy.
"You know," he said softly, "I do this kind of thing all the time; maybe I should go with you, at least to the outskirts of the compound."
"No," I said flatly.
"Okay," he seemed a little surprised and frustrated. "Well . . . it didn't even seem like you thought about it."
"I don't have to," I replied in my same calm tone. "I know the risk I'm taking, have planned for the mission, and I don't want to change the equation by bringing you along." He seemed to want to argue, so I cut him off. "Look, the time you've spent just now has been beneficial. It has saved me a lot of effort, but I need to do this alone."
"Sure," he replied tersely. He stood up and swept his data-pad off the table and stuck it into his side pocket. It looked like he was going to just leave, but then he reached out and scratched a note on a pad of scrap paper. "Here's my com ID; if you need anything, don't hesitate to call."
I took the slip of paper and looked at it, then let my eyes drift up to his. "Did you just give me your number?" I asked with a smirk on my lips.
"I guess I did," he shrugged. "Be safe, and I hope your mission goes well."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," I replied softly.
He turned and left then, and I wondered about what had just happened. The last moment of potential romance I could remember was almost a year ago on Korriban while at the academy, when a hapless acolyte seemed to take a liking to me. That circumstance was doomed to failure, even if I had been interested, which I was not.
Brand Issachar, however, was more confident and very capable. For a moment, my mind fantasized about the idea of falling for the lieutenant, what it would be like to feel affection from someone, and even fall in love. Sure, he had only given me his number, and it could be brushed off as a sense of duty, but I noticed the look in his eye and how he seemed to be watching me. Men tend to be more obvious with their interests. I shook my head to scatter those silly thoughts. I rejected his offer to spare him from the dangers and complications of my life. Trying to create a relationship with him would only lead to heartache. After all, Thanaton could show up and kill me again in a moment. My life was a tragedy, not a love story.
On that sour note, I turned to making preparations. I needed to meditate in the Force to build my focus and recover from my earlier fatigue. I also wanted to look over Elios' map of the location of the Force ghost and compare it to Brand's topographic map. I had a few hours of daylight to complete those tasks, and daydreaming about impossible relationships would not help.
Clix returned at one point, mumbling something unrecognizable in his electronic voice as he passed me. Later, Medic Jayn came up to check on my hands. Brand must have said something to her. She treated them with an additional spray containing bacta-gel to accelerate the healing, and I slipped them into my black gloves to keep them clean.
I was meditating and trying to regain my Force energy for the mission ahead when the mechanic came in holding Pez in his rugged, grease-stained hands. He held the still dormant sphere out to me, the carbon scoring on its surface mostly cleaned.
"I have no idea how to fix your droid," he sighed in frustration. "I've never seen anything like it; couldn't even find a way to get the casing off to look inside. Where did you get it?"
"There was a traveling vendor on Korriban where I was attending the Sith Academy. He seemed to be selling scrap and junk, and most people ignored him. One day he called to me while I was passing and insisted that I buy the droid. He wasn't asking very much, and I didn't want to make a scene, so I agreed."
"Well, I've never seen anything like it. It's not Imperial or Republic military, nor is it from any of the major tech manufacturers, 'cause I know most of their stuff. That thing," Gearhead pointed one of his short fingers at Pez, "is rare and likely very old."
"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," I sighed, "it's broken."
"I don't know," the mechanic shook his head, "I put some sensors on it, and they indicate that an energy source is still active inside, but I can't get the thing open to see what's going on."
"Well, I appreciate your efforts anyway."
He nodded and left. I held the dead droid up in front of me and had half a mind to just toss him into the bin, but at the last moment, I decided to slip him back into the satchel. With just a little time left before dark, I went back to meditating, trying to prepare for the mission to come.
