Summary: Rogue Squadron heads back to Hoth to defend an Intelligence Unit. But they get more than they bargained for.
Disclaimer: Star Wars, Rogue Squadron, and the rest are not mine. I write this for my own amusement. Jesina is my own, original creation.
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Chapter 26: Responsibilities
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Mara was glad Horn wasn't a large man. By the time they made it to the med center – with no sign of Durron along the way – she was practically carrying him. They were the last to arrive.
Along the way, she'd come to the conclusion that the intruder had indeed set off the explosion – and that he'd been somewhere in between her and Horn and the Rogues in the briefing room at the time. They'd had to go straight through the worst of the damage, and so the journey had taken much longer than she'd hoped.
Janson had taken Horn away from her the moment she'd walked in the door. A second later the room had started to sway, and she'd felt hands pushing her into a chair.
She'd seen someone's face swim across her vision, but couldn't make out who it was.
Her last thought before she slumped forward was, Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
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Jesina looked up as Mara stumbled through the doorway with Corran Horn in tow and no Kyp Durron to be seen. She saw Wes put an arm around Corran's back, taking away Mara's burden, and realized a second later that the redheaded smuggler might have been leaning on the Corellian for support as much as he'd been relying on her. She saw Mara start to sway. "Catch her!" she called out, climbing over a repulsor chair in an attempt to reach the woman before she hit the floor.
Donos caught Mara and pushed her into a chair, kneeling down in front of her as her eyes closed and she leaned forward. Jesina reached her a second later, as Mara's forehead hit the sniper's shoulder. She ran her hand lightly over the back of Mara's head and felt a large bump, but no blood.
"We need some help over here!" she yelled, glancing over her shoulder at the packed room. Every table had someone on it, and Mara had ended up in the last empty chair.
She stepped back and ran a hand through her hair as a Two-One-Bee droid bustled over her and cut in front of her. Tycho and Wedge were in bacta tanks, Horn was on a gurney, as were Teril Seylien and Duryll Seco. The other tables and one bacta tank were occupied by a few of her agents who'd been in the corridor when the explosion had hit. The others were sitting or standing around tending to their own cuts and bruises or waiting for attention for the injuries they couldn't reach on their own.
She looked around. Wes and Hobbie had been taken care of, and she'd finally given in to the EmDee torture-droid to let it look at her. Most of the others were still waiting, or were relatively uninjured. And there were a number of people she hadn't been able to contact – not the least of whom was Kyp Durron.
She threaded her way through the pilots and agents in the room into the back, where Iella was still in bacta, along with Wedge and Tycho. She needed to find out how long each of them was going to be out of commission. She knew Iella would be out for a while yet – they'd only been back from the asteroid for a few hours – but Wedge and Tycho weren't that badly off. Then she needed to put someone in charge while she was gone, and then organize people to search for the missing.
Time to get moving.
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Wes caught Jesina's arm as her foot slid out from under her. The ice chips that had fallen had melted and started to re-freeze, making the floor slick. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hobbie steady Inyri as well. She let him for a moment, but then pulled away, and Hobbie looked hurt.
He turned his attention back to Jesina, asking with his eyes if she knew what was going on. She shook her head slightly, and then turned her attention back to the corridor ahead
After a few moments, she came to a stop. Barely avoiding sliding into her, he sidestepped and looked ahead. "You think this is where Jade and Corran came through?" They'd waited until Mara had come to before they left. She'd told them about the climb they'd made, and where she guessed Durron had been when the bomb had gone off. From the sound of it, he'd likely been close to ground zero.
She nodded. "Durron must be buried somewhere between here and the briefing room."
He glanced at his chrono. "It's been nearly two hours. He could be…"
"Possibly," Jesina murmured thoughtfully. She turned around to face them. "Hobbie, you and Inyri take the left side of the corridor. We'll take the right."
Wes frowned. There was something strange about her tone that unnerved him. It was all business, completely void of emotion. He'd heard her like that before, but not often. "Let's go."
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Corran blinked against the light. "Wher'm I?"
"You are in the medical center on Echo Base, Commander," a droll, computerized voice responded.
"What…I…" he tried to sit up but felt hands – hard, metal hands – on his chest, pushing him back down. He felt something being placed on his face and turned his head, moaning at the sharp pains that shot through it.
"We are transferring you to a bacta tank, commander," the voice said again. "Breathe deeply, sir."
He did as he was told, the pain inhibiting his ability to think enough to do anything else, and the sounds in the background began to fade away into nothing.
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Jesina dug through the ice. It was slow going, but they had no other way – and no choice if Durron was to have any chance of surviving.
She knew Wes was bothered by her current attitude. He'd been shooting her strange looks the whole time, but she didn't care. She didn't like being hit close to home like this.
Not only that. There was no way someone had gotten into the base without their knowledge. Because of the fact that the whole thing was carved from ice, the entrances were few and far between – and continually monitored. None of their guards or watchmen had been injured or in any way incapacitated, which meant that the only way anyone could have gotten in would have been if they'd simply been unnoticed. And her people were too well trained for that. It had to have been an inside job.
Whether that meant that one of her people had let someone into the base or that the bomber was someone who'd been inside the whole time didn't matter to her. One of her people had betrayed them, and that was what had mattered. This was her responsibility. These people were her responsibility.
Forge's shout kept her from beating herself up any further. "He's here!"
Another of her responsibilities.
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Hobbie dropped bodily into a chair. Seven hours since the bomb had gone off. Wedge, Tycho, and Corran were all out of bacta – premature removals, all, but the additional agents they'd found – and Durron, for that matter – who'd been caught in the explosion needed the tanks more than they did.
Wedge was in a back room, sitting in a repulsor chair, talking to Corran, who was sitting in a repulsor bed. Neither was happy about their current position, but had been threatened enough by the med droids that they'd both given in.
He looked over at Jesina, who was pacing back and forth. Something was up with her; he wasn't sure what, but he couldn't remember ever seeing her so agitated.
Wes had noticed, too. He'd been watching Jesina steadily since they'd made it back to the med center, only occasionally looking away when she looked in his direction.
He shifted his attention to Inyri. He'd tried to give her a hand a few times when they were out looking for Durron, but she'd pulled away. He understood – she didn't want people finding out – but it was starting to get to him just the same.
He sighed and leaned back, resting his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. That was something he could deal with another time. Right now, all he wanted was to sleep. Despite the constant bustle of people coming in and out of the med center, the simple fact that he was seated and unmoving was enough to lull him toward unconsciousness.
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Wedge looked at Corran, who was examining his hands like he'd never seen them before in his life. "Feel like talking?"
"Honestly?" Corran asked, shaking his head.
"Honestly," Wedge repeated, chuckling a bit despite the circumstances – and then regretting it when his chest felt like it was on fire.
"Not really." Corran shook his head. "I screwed up. I don't know what to say. I just exploded. Iella was hurt and it was within my power to save her. I couldn't just sit there."
"But you should have."
"I know." He shook his head again. "And the best part is that it didn't matter. Because I never reached her. And even if I'd just sat there, Durron would have taken care of her anyway."
"You made a call, and it was a bad one. It happens, though, and you have to accept that and move on."
"But it's worse for me," Corran said. "It's more dangerous for a Jedi to make a mistake, especially when it involves the Dark Side."
"I'm not going to argue that, Corran. Mainly because I don't know enough about it. I saw what Luke went through after the whole episode with the reincarnation of the Emperor. And the whole galaxy knows what Dark Jedi – Sith, whatever – can do, thanks to the Emperor and Vader and Kyp Durron. But I do know that you're human. You make mistakes. And if you don't try to move on, you'll drive yourself insane."
"It's not that easy, though," the Jedi protested.
"Why?"
"You couldn't understand." He looked away.
Wedge nudged his repulsor chair forward. "Try me."
"It's…I never bought into what Luke said. When he was first training, Master Yoda told him 'Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.' He told us that when I was training to be a Jedi, but I didn't believe it. I equated it with being a criminal. You could change, if you really wanted to. Inyri Forge is an example of that – you are, too, really. And then there are the Imps who served the Alliance or the Republic loyally after they turned. People could change if they wanted to. It didn't occur to me that the Force – the Dark Side – would be any different."
He paused, studying his hands again. "It's not, though. The feeling of using that power is addictive – it's more like being a glitbiter than a criminal. You…you need it. It draws you in and it doesn't let you go and it's the hardest thing in the galaxy to escape it."
Wedge remained silent as Corran struggled with his thoughts. This was not the first time in his life that he'd wished he understood more about the Force, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. It frustrated him to no end to be unable to help a man who was his friend – and his responsibility, as a member of the squadron.
"I'm not free of it – still, even after what happened. I was the closest to Hobbie and Inyri when that person took a shot at them. I never intended to use the Dark Side – I didn't want to use the Force at all. But at that moment it just…overwhelmed me sounds like I'm trying to find an excuse, but that's the best word I can find."
Wedge weighed his words carefully. "I'm not going to pretend that I know what you're going through. I figure I can imagine how hard it might be – we've all had our own moral struggles." He rolled his eyes. "Force knows I've had my share. You need to get through it your own way. If that means taking time away from the squadron, meeting Luke when Mara and Durron find him and bring him back, then so be it, and we'll accommodate you as far as is necessary. I'm not going to ask you to stay; I'm not going to ask you to leave. Do what you need to do."