"Anakin, calm down."
The boy paced across the small space of his quarters, slapping his palm against the badly painted blue streak on the wall.
Anakin glared at Obi-Wan, "Why?"
Obi-Wan rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Because you have a duty and I have a duty and we will both serve. And I will not have you angry on my account."
"It's not your duty! It's suicide!"
"It is an informed command decision."
Anakin crossed his arms, "It's willful blindness."
Obi-Wan pressed his fingers into the sofa beneath him. The fabric was coarse and he could almost feel the grayness seeping into his skin, slipping between indefensible cells to taint his blood.
"The Admiral has both seen your reconnaissance and heard your recommendation. You do have to admit neither has proof of air resistance."
"That's not why he decided. He said that he agreed with me."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan began again, softly this time, "his decision is not about this battle. You know that. Winning a war is not simply winning a battle – it is conserving resources so that the next may be won."
Anakin broke eye contact, casting his bitter gaze toward the porthole, "And my pilots are more valuable resources than your clones. Than you."
₪₪₪
It was an uncomfortable feeling, filling the place of another. At breakfast, even between jests and fork duels, Hurana caught confused glances, raw startlement. Their eyes kept trying to skip over her, kept trying to believe she was familiar, and failing. She wasn't familiar. She wasn't Carya.
Nor was she Herys, nor Wesson, nor Saff, nor Fentin.
She wasn't a single one of the pilots that she'd ever replaced and she hated it. Her file was filled with the names of squadrons she'd been in. And she took that to be a very literal, very insular sense of 'in'. Inside of, so deeply inside she fit into the space left by another, not visible except by the gap around her – visible only in that which she wasn't.
Nonetheless, almost against her will, she began envision herself fitting into her own Hurana shaped space in the squadron. She could see herself joking with Elenia and Keir and Emitai; debating with Darius and Savann; fighting with Raaf. And from all their talk, she was beginning to see herself following Anakin.
Still, she worried.
"Can we talk for a moment?" she asked, snagging Tellan's sleeve as the group walked to the lounge.
He nodded politely, and she drew him to the side of the corridor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fyvve raise a bifurcated eyebrow and poke Illazar as they passed.
"I just wanted to say that I'm glad you haven't said anything. I really want this to work out and to do it with a clean slate. My history, especially with Commander Skywalker, is not going to be my future. You've probably been wondering about what all that was yesterday, and I probably owe you an explanation – you and everyone else, but --"
"I wasn't."
Hurana stopped her rambling, "What?"
"I wasn't wondering," he added, respectfully.
"Oh. Well," Hurana attempted to compose herself, "thank you and . . . thank you."
Tellan nodded and they made the rest of their way into the lounge in silence – confused silence on Hurana's part. Hurana noted that the Sabres had happily sprawled, leaned, and sat on nearly all available surfaces. Darius invited her to sit on his lap. She declined, opting instead to balance on the arm of the couch. Tellan stood by the table, watching the sabacc game with mild interest.
Hurana watched holochannels flip past at alarming rate for some time before Keir dove at Elenia, wrestling the remote away. Then for a brief, but comfortable, time the group gathered near the holovid watched an intriguing documentary on the tunneling instincts of Toydarian voles. Finally, when Elenia's scheming expression passed into the realm of over-acting, she pounced.
Thus engaged, with all of the squadron variously watching, betting, or taking bets on the ensuing wrestling match, that no one heard the door whoosh itself open and closed with it's typical alarming speed. However, nearly everyone noticed as Commander Skywalker stalked across the room.
Elenia and Keir noticed when the holovid flicked off and the remote flew unceremoniously from their grappling hands.
The pair quickly righted themselves and stood, bowing at the waist, "Sir."
Commander Skywalker didn't seem to see them. He was in motion again, long stride taking him to stand next to where the holos were projected.
"This is important."
There was a quiet rush of sound, and suddenly a very professional squadron was assembled, facing the Commander attentively.
He pressed a button on the remote; a holo of a planet appeared. "This is Haluki 5, which most of you remember from our surveillance and reconnaissance mission a few days ago. The Admiral has since analyzed that data and formulated a battle plan. This time it's the full deck going.
"We will launch and then escort the assault ships to the northwestern quadrant. While they deploy troops, we will attack the orbital attack platforms." The holo assembled a menacing looking space station. Commander Skywalker's eyes shifted to watch. "The platforms are Monnen II Defense Capsules. They are not equipped with either heavy arms or crew. Instead, they are each armed with 20 high powered batteries of turbolasers. They are unshielded and instead plated with dense ditanium. This makes the turbolaser embankments themselves the best targets, since they protrude from the armor.
"Coin Squadron will hit the platform at 3405.78, Flask and Stave at 3403.5. And a platform of our very own is located at 3406.93."
Mully raised his hand slightly, frowning, "That isn't a very wide distribution pattern."
"No, it isn't. Those platforms are pretty old. Gravity and incorrect calculations have taken their toll."
Commander Skywalker frowned at the displayed, his jaw clenched. "After the platforms are destroyed we have orders to remain in high orbit and await the return of the Queen."
The squadron shifted uncomfortably. Fyvve asked for all of them, "Sir?"
His vivid blue eyes flashed as he turned to them, "But what I'm going to do is cover the infantry assault. We will arrive in-system at 1700. Be in the hanger by 1630."
Commander Skywalker, eyes blazing, walked to Elenia and gently pressed the remote into her hand. And walked out of the lounge.
The room blinked. It was somewhat awkward.
Hurana leaned into Savann and asked, "So . . . what did he mean 'the full deck'?"
Savann looked at her, askance, "You mean you haven't noticed, yet?" Hurana shook her head. "There was a big ceremony about six months ago where this battle group was christened. They let Senator Garm Bel Iblis name everything, even the squadrons, as a public relations stunt. And in a fit of space dementia, he named everything with a sabacc-theme."
"The Sabres . . . the Coins, the Flasks, and the Staves."
"The Queen of Air, the Queen of Darkness, the Endurance, and the Balance. Thus, the full deck."
"You know," started Raaf, "since Lead is considering disobeying direct orders, I don't really think this is the best time to rehash our not-so illustrious past."
Emitai furrowed his brow, "Actually, it probably is."
Fyvve shifted her chair back to the sabacc table, picking up her cards, "And I don't think His Lordship is considering. He's decided."
"So, I'll bet you two didn't know you were signing on for possible courts-martial," said Elenia cheerfully.
Raaf snapped, "They didn't sign on for anything."
Hurana was silent, neck straining to see all the players in the argument. Tellan wore a typically impassive expression.
Mully, sliding a card from his sleeve, added smoothly, "Especially since Lead doesn't want us coming."
Elenia's smile faltered, "W-what?"
"He gave us no orders except those he's disobeying, he didn't explain why he's disobeying, and he never asked us to join him," explained Mully rationally.
"Why is he doing it?" asked Tellan.
"He thinks the infantry needs protection," replied Fyvve.
"As well," Savann considered, "his old Jedi Master is down there."
Raaf rolled his eyes, "Aw, Lead's such a good kid."
Savann's eyes narrowed, "Don't."
Raaf shrugged, settling back into the couch. Savann flexed her fingers at him meaningfully. The manicured nails shone in the harsh, industrial light. Elenia joined in the act, glaring at him.
Keir put a hand on Elenia's arm, "You know this is why he didn't ask us."
Raaf mumbled something about giving Commander Skywalker too much credit. To Hurana's surprise, she saw both Fyvve and Mully nod along with the assessment.
Elenia jerked away from Keir's touch, "I don't care." She stood, "I'm going with him."
She stalked out of the room, much the way Commander Skywalker had entered. Ten sets of eyes watched her go. The boom as the door connected with the floor seemed louder than usual.
A low whistle split the tense tableau. Hurana turned her eyes again to Raaf. He chuckled, "That girl does have it bad."
This time, Savann did slap him.
However, Hurana thought he was right about one thing: she hadn't signed on for this.
₪₪₪
There were no force fields in the galaxy that could withstand the warp and pressure of hyperspace. Anakin knew this – he was facing the blank, dull durasteel sheet that separated him from the buffeting of the space beneath space. Even in a cockpit shielding would cover the transparasteel ports. He'd never seen hyperspace, the starlines and then whorls of . . . whatever it was, on anything but a viewscreen.
No one else had, of course, but that did make Anakin stop wishing the hanger door would open just the slightest crack and show him.
Even with the distortion of the force field, he sometimes found the stars too bright, like hard pins of light. With atmosphere between him and them, he could and had in the past stared for hours. Space made them too harsh. He still wondered what hyperspace would do.
He was stalling.
Shaking away his diverted thoughts, Anakin ran hands over the controls of his Aethsprite – more a meditation than a check. He knew every switch and modified knob in the cockpit. It was him, after all. But he liked the feel, even beneath the mass of wire and polymer that was his right hand. Possibly more with that hand. As disconnected as it was from him, it was more connected with the ship than his flesh could ever be.
He was still stalling.
He closed his eyes, meditating in truth. He stretched his senses toward Haluki 5. There was the faint hum of productivity, of fear. And of danger. Threads of danger tangled around the planet, bearing along the line laid by fear. He stretched further, trying to find the focus of the danger. The threads tightened, encapsulating the people he sensed, the base, the future there.
Which was pretty much useless.
Anakin expelled an irritated breath. He wanted something specific, something to justify his actions. He didn't need the Force telling him that the battle was going to be dangerous.
He opened his eyes, staring once more toward the hanger door.
It was several minutes before he broke his stare, footsteps interrupting his determined attention.
Elenia was the first to enter, but she wasn't the last.
He suppressed a growl at the sight, and jumped from the cockpit.
"I said 1630."
Elenia lifted her chin, looking up at him resolutely, "We thought we should come earlier to plan our planetary assault."
"You aren't coming."
"Actually, we are."
"Even you can't handle covering two simultaneous attacks on separate locations. Especially if they have uncharted air support," added Mully.
"You still aren't coming."
"Sir, it's not as though we're asking to destroy ourselves with you," Fyvve reminded him.
Anakin's eyes widened.
"If I destroy myself, you definitely don't get to come," he snapped.
Fyvve sighed, "That wasn't at all what I meant, sir."
Anakin flung an arm toward the hanger door, "I'm disobeying and endangering myself. Not you. I'm not going to watch you die for my reasons and I'm not going to let you ruin your careers."
"Sir, are you done being over-dramatic?" asked Keir with concern.
Emitai, and a few others, snorted, "He's never done being over-dramatic."
Based on characters and situations created by George Lucas, copyright Lucasfilm Ltd. Not for sale, no copyright infringement intended.