Rebirth of the Fallen

A short story by B. James Hunter

Chapter 3.

"He's pretty banged up but he's going to be ok." Doctor Shovan said as he entered the room, wiping blood from his hands with a small white towel. "A few cuts and bruises with some minor tissue damage but nothing fatal." The doctor crossed the room to join Catherine at the window. On the other side, a prone figure lay on a large hospital bed. In truth, it was more of a cot than a bed. Two silver metal bars, raised six inches above the mattress, ran parallel down each side. It almost looked like a cage.

To the right of the bed, stood a large white medical projection unit. The red lense at its centre producing a 3d thermal image of the figure lying by its side. Various markers around the image indicated localised injuries, relaying information to other systems. Above the bed, another nameless piece of medical equipment quietly worked away. This unit had several vials of different coloured liquids connected to input sockets in its underside. Two thin wires ran from its base to a neural band being worn by the patient. Clear tubes were also visible, this time attached to blood vessels in his arms.

"Trust me," said Shovan, "it looks far worse than that it is."

Catherine knew he was right. Tu Li had taken a bad beating but the boy was strong, she felt it.

"Anyway, I think it's about time you let me take a look at your injuries, young woman." The doctor had wanted to treat her as soon as she'd arrived at the medical centre but Catherine had insisted on being seen last.

"I'm fine" came the response; her voice flat and distant. "Young lady" began the doctor. "I have been your physician for nine years and I haven't ­once let you leave this building with so much as a scratch." The doctor was serious now. "And I'm not going to start today. Now let me look at you." It wasn't a request.

As the doctor began tending to her injuries, Catherine once more turned and looked at the young man lying motionless in the room beyond. 'He's just a boy' she thought to herself. She thought back to how she was when she had been a Jedi. It seemed like a hundred years ago.

"I'm going to have to cut this. Do you mind?" asked Shovan, holding the hem of the young woman's dark blue dress. It had been a beautiful dress, a present from Gadon's wife Echelle on her 27th birthday.

"I don't suppose it matters now does it?" replied his patient; looking down at the garment's various tears and burns. Just then, the door opened and a man with a familiar face entered the room.

"Now how the hell do you come out of this in better shape then me?" asked Gadon. His left hand was bandaged and he walked with a slight limp, aided by a wooden cane.

"What can I say? I bounce better than you." shot back the reply, without a trace of humour.

"Can you spare us a couple of minutes doc?" said Gadon. Shovan glanced up at the mayor and then at Catherine. They were looking at each other and it was clear they had important matters to discuss.

"Sure......I need to go and sort...something out" replied the doctor, sensing the change in atmosphere. "Five minutes ok? You need those treated" continued Shevan, indicating the burn marks on Catherine's legs. He exchanged a look with Gadon and left the room.

"People are talking, Catherine." started Gadon.

"It's hardly surprising" replied the young woman. "It's not every day people fight to the death in the town courtyard." Catherine was shattered. Every inch of her ached. The burns were bad enough but she was pretty sure she had also cracked a couple of ribs when she had hit the tree. There was something else though; another reason for the pain and Catherine knew exactly what it was. She could feel the Force flowing through her body. It was if she was floating in warm water. She hadn't felt the Force with this intensity in a long time and like an athlete returning to train after a spell on the sidelines, the burn was incredible. "What are they saying?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Some of the school governors are talking about letting you go", Gadon was almost ashamed to answer. He certainly didn't feel that way. He had said as much in the meeting with those same men and women only twenty minutes earlier.

'How can you even contemplate this course of action? Are you forgetting everything she's done for this school?' he had asked them. His remarks had fallen on deaf ears. The governors were afraid; they feared for themselves and they feared for the children in their care. Gadon knew this; he knew that same fear drove them to take the safest course of action, to ignore the past and secure the future. And if that meant the dismissal of their headmistress, so be it.

"You can't blame them, Gadon. Put yourself in their position and tell me you wouldn't even consider doing the same thing. I know I would." Catherine had all but accepted she would have to leave Taris and it broke her heart. In truth, she had known this day might come from the moment she had returned. Everything she had been before was left behind but a past like hers could never stay buried forever.

"Are the children ok?" Catherine's thoughts returned to her charges.

"Yes. You don't have to worry on that score. They were all sent home for the day but according to Gredon, everyone knows what happened." Gadon reached out his hand and cupped the side of Catherine's face. "It's going to be alright. Trust me kiddo."

"How's the boy?" continued Gadon, looking at the young Jedi through the window.

"Doc says he's going to be fine" replied Catherine. "He should regain consciousness in a few hours. I'm going to stay here until he wakes up." Gadon looked at the young woman. He knew she was in pain, both physically and emotionally.

"He's not your responsibility; you know that, don't you?" he said, desperately trying to find the right words. "He came looking for you, not the other way round" continued Gadon. "Not to mention the fact you saved his life. Hell, he owes you the way I see it." Unmoved, Catherine said nothing. She knew Gadon spoke the truth. Everything he said was right but she couldn't bring herself to walk away. Turning her back on the boy and walking out of the centre was not acceptable. There was a time when such a course of action would have seemed the only thing to do and this was precisely the reason she had to stay.

"Listen, why don't we go over to the school right now and sort this mess out" said Gadon, trying to stir up some passion in his friend. "I asked the governors to stay behind at the school while I came here. They want to talk to you" he continued. "I know between us we can make this go away."

"You're not going anywhere young lady" interrupted the doctor as he re-entered the room. "You've had your five minutes and more Gadon, now let me do my job." The mayor turned and nodded his acceptance to the doctors' request.

"I'll be outside when you're ready" said Gadon, picking up his cane and making his way to the door.

--------------

Gadon looked up and unfolded his arms as the door opened and Catherine stepped out into the hall. She had a large surgical bandage on her left leg running from ankle to knee. From the shape of her dress it was obvious a large section of her right leg above the knee had also been treated and dressed. A couple of small dressings were visible on her arms and neck.

"Well, don't you look a site" said Gadon with a smile as he stood up, trying his best to lift her spirits.

"Look who's talking" shot back the response, the slightest of smiles now visible on the young woman's face.

"You think I look bad?" replied her friend, "You should see the bench!" Had it been any other time, Catherine would have laughed; but not today. The continuation of the merest of smiles was the best she could do.

Just as they were about to leave, the doctor spoke. "What do you want me to do with the uh....bodies?" Catherine knew he was talking about the Sith. He had been uneasy about having them in his centre from the moment they had been brought in. Something about them didn't feel right. He looked at Catherine and then at Gadon who was himself staring intently at the woman, awaiting her response.

"Was either of them carrying any kind of identification?" she finally asked the doctor.

"Nothing at all" came his response. "Just the robes they were wearing" he continued.

Catherine thought for a second before speaking again. In a voice devoid of emotion and pity, she looked at Doctor Shovan and said, "Burn them."

As they made their way slowly down the steps of the medical centre; Gadon stopped. Placing a hand on Catherine's shoulder he looked into the young woman's eyes. As she stood their, Gadon asked her a question that shook her to the core. "Have you thought about how you're going to explain this to your son?"

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Among the systems of the outer rim, Mulara was nothing special. Only one world circled its sun and the giant ringed planet had been totally devoid of life since the days before the Republic. A loosely packed asteroid field circled the outer reaches of the solar system, remnants of a second planet, destroyed by a meteor eons before. In the shadow of the ringed planet sat a large ship. The array of laser batteries and gun turrets coupled with the sheer size of its hull left no doubt as to what the craft was used for. Cargo haulage was a dangerous business, especially in the outer rim and the weaponry and heavy shielding of the ship had been put to use on numerous occasions. It sat there in space, completely motionless as if it were a giant creature taking refuge from the sun to sleep.

The ship had been sat there for nearly an hour and Rotok the Hutt was not someone who was used to waiting.

"I don't like this, boss" said Vokol Reesh, Rotoks' chief of security. "I don't think they're coming."

"They'll be here" came the reply. The bridge of the Tatooine battle freighter was eerily quiet. Apart from Rotok and Vokol, the only other person present was the helmsman. Normally the bridge, indeed the ship, would have been carrying a far greater compliment of men but the client had stipulated a skeleton crew for their meeting. For the money he was getting, Rotok had accepted the condition without question. Besides, who in their right mind would ever attack a Hutt, Rotok had reasoned.

Suddenly the helmsman spoke.

"Long range scanners are picking up a ship, my lord." The man manipulated the navigational display before him and spoke again. "Bearing one nine three. It's on an intercept course, ETA nine minutes."

"Fire up the engines and raise the shields" replied Rotok. He was sure there wouldn't be trouble but he also knew it didn't hurt to be prepared. In his considerable lifetime, he had seen too many others destroyed through simple arrogance; a trait he did not share.

He spoke again, this time to the tall green Twi'lek standing in front of him. "Prepare the package for transfer. I want no mistakes. Understood?"

"Of course my lord" replied Vokol. He wasn't a man who made mistakes; the very number of years he had been in the Hutts' service was a testament to that fact. He made his way to a large door at the rear of the bridge. The door opened and he stepped into the lift. "Cargo hold one." As he spoke, the door resealed and the lift began to descend.

Within the approaching ship, a lone figure sat in the transport suite, directly behind the bridge. The man sat motionless, his eyes closed as if in silent meditation. Suddenly, the communication array on the table before him burst into life. The array made several beeping sounds before a holographic image of a man in military uniform appeared. The figure was distorted and it was obvious the transmission was being sent from a great distance.

"Forgive the intrusion my lord, but I have disturbing news." The fear coming from the holographic figure was palpable. The military commander was well aware of his lord's reputation for dealing harshly with those who failed him. "Krell has failed in his mission my lord" continued the holographic figure, eager to distance himself from any recriminations.

The figure on the ship did not speak. He remained motionless, his eyes still closed.

The commander spoke again. "Shall I send another to complete the mission my lord?"

Finally, the man opened his eyes. He stared at the holographic figure before him and began to speak. "No Commander. That will not be necessary. She will not remain on Taris for long. She will go to Coruscant." The figure rose to his feet as he spoke and began crossing the room to the view port opposite. "We need not pursue her any further. In time, she will come to me." He turned and once more stared at the small projection before him. "Are my agents in position?"

"Yes my lord" came the immediate reply, the officer once more snapping to attention.

"Then you know what must be done Commander" It was not a question.

The small ship decelerated as it approached the freighter. The vessel was a medium range personnel transport and had little shielding and even less in the way of armament. From the bridge of the freighter, the helmsman spoke once again. "Incoming message, my lord."

"I am pleased I have not wasted my time in coming here, Hutt" the voice said, barely concealing its contempt. The helmsman looked back at Rotok, awaiting his reply. In all the years he had worked as Rotok's pilot; he had never heard anyone speak to him in that way. At least no-one who was still alive five minutes later. It occurred to the Hutt that his client spoke as if he knew the item was onboard. He pushed the thought from his mind and spoke. "Do not waste my time with your veiled threats. I trust you have my money?"

"Of course" came the reply. "Initiate docking procedures."

Rotok nodded to the helmsman and he turned and entered a navigation sequence into his display. Slowly, the two ships began to move closer. When the vessels were close enough, the freighter extended a docking arm. It connected with the airlock on the smaller ship, automatically configuring its locking mechanism, making it compatible with its target. A rumble could be heard through both ships as the connection was made.

The door at the freighter side of the airlock slid open to reveal two large, heavily tattooed figures moving slowly along the recently constructed walkway. Between them was a large container about six feet long and three feet high. It obviously weighed a great deal as even with the anti-gravity platform supporting it, the two figures were visibly struggling to maintain forward momentum. Once inside the cargo bay, Vokol ordered the two men to place the container on the ground and to open it so he could verify its contents.

When the container's lid was unlocked and removed, Vokol's eyes widened as he caught sight of the bounty within. Even working for the Hutts, he had never in his life ever seen thirty five million credits in one place. Taking a small device for his belt, Vokol began scanning the container and its contents. When he was finished, he walked to the wall and activated the comm system connecting him to the bridge.

"Is it all there?" said Rotok. He was growing impatient and was eager to conclude this transaction and be on his way.

"Yes, my lord" came the reply. "The package is verified."

"You have your money Hutt; now give me what I paid you for." The voice from the smaller ship was also impatient and had lost none of its earlier bite.

"Vokol. Release the artefact" said Rotok over the internal comm system. The security chief acknowledged the order and nodded to an enormous figure standing at the rear of the cargo bay. Vokol's man crouched from where he had been standing and picked up a metal container. The package was fairly small but as with the payment, was extremely heavy. As he reached his superior, the man handed the box over to one of the two couriers who had delivered the money. Taking the weight between them, the two men began walking back down the corridor from which they had appeared. When the indicator light above the airlock came on, the helmsman on the bridge initiated the commands to disengage and retrieve the docking arm.

With the two ships once more separated; Rotok ordered his helmsman to open a channel. "I trust everything meets your approval?" he enquired. "You have no idea how much trouble I had getting---"

"Our business is concluded" said the voice from the transport, interrupting the Hutt mid flow. "We shall not speak again."

Rotok's tolerance for the insolence coming from the unknown figure was stretched to breaking point; and with his payment now safely on board, he no longer bothered to keep his temper in check.

"Do not try my patience any further or I will find myself another buyer for your package after I remove it from the wreckage of your ship." There was no response.

"Helmsman, take us out of here" Rotok ordered, his thoughts turning to the massive profit he had just made. The helmsman said nothing. "Did you hear what I said?" shouted the Hutt. Again, there was no response from the figure at the navigation array. The young pilot's eyes were open wide, staring straight ahead as if transfixed by some invisible object far off in the distance. Suddenly, he looked down and began punching in navigational commands. The ship accelerated but instead of making the jump to light speed, banked sharply to starboard. From the view screen, Rotok could see they were now flying directly towards the sun. "You fool! What are you doing?" shouted Rotok but as before, the young man said nothing.

The Hutt opened a comm link to the cargo hold. "Vokol, report to the bridge at once." There was no reply. "Vokol, where are you? Respond" he repeated, now more than a little worried. In the cargo hold Vokol and his lieutenant writhed in agony on the floor, both men clutching their throats as they tried desperately to breathe. Though they wanted to, they couldn't even scream.

On the bridge Rotok spoke once more to his unresponsive helmsman. "I order you to change course at once." The words from the huge Hutt echoed around the bridge but did not register with the still entranced pilot. The view screen showed the sun directly ahead of them; and it was growing much larger. For the first time in his life, Rotok was genuinely scared. With all the speed he could muster, he slithered down from his platform and moved to the motionless figure in front of him. Rotok grabbed the pilot's head with one huge hand and threw him clear across the bridge. He started to enter a new course heading but his commands were not accepted. Their current course had been locked in and the Hutt did not possess the knowledge to override it. In blind panic, he turned his attention to his helmsman in one last desperate attempt to escape.

The futility of this was immediately obvious. Blood poured from a gaping head wound. Even if he wasn't dead yet, the pilot was certainly no use to him now.

Around the bridge; alarms started to sound. "Warning. Shields Failing" voiced the automatic security system. "Structural Integrity Failing" sounded another. A power relay behind Rotok exploded.

One final time, Rotok the Hutt turned to look at the view screen. The whole image was now of the giant sun bearing down on them. He screamed as the shields failed and ship exploded.