Chapter 4
A young woman with excessively short, dark hair burst forward, throwing her arms up. Officially presenting herself as if she were the main star in the latest holo-vid adventure, "Hey, I'm Relina, you're escort, personal pilot and guide extraordinaire around this big, crazy galaxy of ours," she said merrily, giving in to a slight bow.
Bastila froze, unsure of what to make of the sight. "Thank you, I think. For now, I only require a pilot. And perhaps a touch of whatever stims you've been using."
"Ha! Don't you wish." Relina's eyes darted momentarily from Bastila to the hanger deck below. Lighting up in surprise, "Is that Admiral Onasi? You think I could chat with him for a minute? It'll only take a second. I promise."
Glancing over her shoulder, Bastila caught a glimpse of Carth as the hanger blast doors slid shut behind him. "I really don't think we have the time..."
"Tharak, let's get moving," said a booming voice, cleanly chopping off her words. "Send the admiral a holo if you need to gab it up with him. Captain's waiting."
Bastila spun back to find the large hand of a tall man resting on Relina's shoulder. He had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Shedding his hand with a dipped shoulder, Relina slipped past him. Her head bouncing back and forth, "Fine. Don't mind me. Just call me loyal slave Relina," she quipped, her mutterings tapering off as she disappeared into the cockpit.
Thrusting his massive paw toward her, "Sorry about that, Tharak's new and like any fresh kath hound pup, you have to keep barking at her or she'll wander off."
Yelling from the cockpit, "I heard that, Sarge!"
Bastila wasn't sure what to say, but definitely wondering what she'd gotten herself into. She shook his hand and took note of his uniform markings. An oval with a green field covered by a black 'X' adorned his left shoulder. "You are with the Republic Marine forces?"
"Yeah. I'm Sergeant Gan, resident RSF senior enlisted and temp commander. Or, I should say the commander-interim. Our squad officer took up the vacant XO position. Helluva jump in rank for her, but with all those strings being pulled, not much around here surprises me anymore. Enough with the military snark. You'll get plenty from the CO soon enough. So, just call me Welo. Or, Gan. Or, Sarge. Don't matter much to me."
Equipment hanging along the bulkheads buzzed lightly at first before loose latches and broken stiffeners built to a full crescendo as the shuttle lifted off and quickly picked up speed. Pushing its heavy appendage home, a gear pad actuator groaned angrily up through the ship's deckplate. Bastila wrapped her fingers around some nearby hanging cargo netting as the vibrations grew worse. Glancing around, she looked for a place to sit, but the thin layer of grime over everything quickly changed her mind. A Tatooine sandstorm would've left the interior in better condition.
Welo caught her flashed scowl. Suppressing a smile, "Blame the senior pilot."
"I'm sorry?" she asked.
"Inception's senior pilot dragged this hunk of junk with him from Kuat. I guess it was just floating scrap. Been nice if he'd hosed it out," he said, not really caring one way or another. As an afterthought, "Should've brought the 'boat," he muttered.
"Indeed," she replied. "Well, Mr. Gan, were you the unlucky one drawing the short stick to greet me?" As if passing through atmospheric turbulence, or simply from the hands of an inept pilot, the shuttle's buffeting steadily grew worse. More likely, it was just falling apart. Drawing herself closer to the netting, she spread her footing—the distinct odor of decaying organics swirled around her from the rotting fabric. Its similarity to a mixture of wet Selkath and decomposing Wraid was unsettling. The decomposing Wraid being the preferred of the two.
"Of course!" he said with a short laugh. "Nah, I'm your personal bodyguard. Actually, my whole squad is, but let's keep it simple for the moment. Can't say I liked the idea much at first, but hell, how many can say they were the protection detail for a Jedi Master? Usually, it's the other way around."
She shot him a disdainful glance. "I hardly need a personal bodyguard. Much less a whole squad of them. And I'm not a Jedi Master."
Welo stroked his hairy chin thoughtfully. "Amazing. Those are the exact words I expected you'd say about us," he stated. "We do have other uses. Ones that generally involve making things glow real bright. As for the Jedi Master part, well, that's what the whole ship thinks you are. Not sure how that got started. What should we call you?"
"How about...Bastila. Nice and simple."
Shaking his head in disagreement, "Whoa now, Ma'am," he said, holding up a hand. "That ship won't fly. See, you're about to step aboard a warship chock full of military types. They live, breath, eat, sleep and die to things like ranks, titles, loyalty and duty. You go off and tell these people to simply call you 'Bastila' and half of them are liable to cease functioning properly. The other half, well they'll be wondering why in the galaxy they're flying in the middle of nowhere following the nose of some civilian. Guys like me, we're on the up and up. Don't really care one way or the other as long as we have some idea of what we're getting into. Average enlisted types—why not just make it easy on them, eh? That way they'll know exactly where to place you in those structured military brain-cans resting on their shoulders."
Bastila considered his words carefully, extracting the useful components and disregarding the chaff. "This will not be the first I have spent time aboard a Republic warship, but I concede your point. The High Council ordained me Jedi Knight four years ago. Perhaps that will suffice?"
The deckplate buzzed again as the landing pad actuator pushed its way out of the ship. A brief electronic pop and whistle from the overhead comm box momentarily filled the small space. Relina's voice breaking through the static, "Hey guys, touching down in a sec. Got a red blip on the port aft gear, so hang on, it might collapse," she forewarned, her voice calmer than one would expect under such a possibility.
Welo glanced up to the comm box for a second than back to Bastila. "Fine with me, but hell, crew's probably going to call you everything from mistress to Jedi Master anyway. Try not to get too upset when they do."
Once he felt the gear touch down, he smacked the ramp release sending it crashing to the hanger deck. "Be sure to swing by the RSF side later. I'll give you the grand tour," he offered, before disappearing down the ramp.
After a moment of trying to fully comprehend the man, she finally gave up and followed the loading ramp down to the hanger deck. Wondering if she should still be concerned with the broken pad actuator, she found two stiffly uniformed senior officers returning Welo's salute before he spun to march off toward an access hatch. A familiar face was also awaiting her arrival.
"Hey, kid! Look at you, carrying yourself around like some freshly minted knight right out of the 'ol Jedi stamping machine," said a gruff voice, his weathered demeanor only slightly worse then she remembered.
"Master Bindo, thank you for coming," she said, taking his hand.
"Bah! You know what you can do with that 'Master' nonsense." Waving a finger at her, "Jedi Council or not!"
Attempting to suppress a giggle and failing horribly, "Of course. How could I forget?"
"I don't know. You don't look as old as me—yet. That's my excuse. Maybe you're just forgetful."
Unsure of what to make of their banter, "Welcome aboard, Bastila," said the uniformed man. "I'm Captain Aston and this is Commander Sirko, the Inception's executive officer," he said, nodding to the woman in a nearly mirrored uniform to his own. Mirrored maybe, but there was a definite difference in demeanor. Sirko stood every bit as tall as the captain, but was a statue of confidence that he couldn't match if one could pay credits for it. If there was a holo somewhere of what a droid wrapped with a human skin would look like, Bastila was sure she'd find Sirko's name next to it. Their only other major differences being her lighter colored strands pulled into a short, tight ponytail and her ice blue eyes that pierced objects as though they didn't exist.
"Thank you, Captain," Bastila said, giving each a brusque nod. "I'm still trying to accept all of this. It's all so much more than I expected."
"Friends in high places," Jolee commented. "You have to love it!"
The captain nodded in agreement.
Commander Sirko shifted uneasily. Tapping her chrono, "Captain, the time," she said. Cool as a Rhen Varian ice storm, she wore it like stage four shielding.
"Yes, I believe we're awaiting some final inbound traffic," he acknowledged. "Return to the bridge and set stations for our first null jump. Execute on its arrival."
"By your leave," she replied, giving Jolee and Bastila a departing nod—her gaze focused on some distant part of the galaxy behind them.
"Dismissed, Commander."
Jolee watched the commander briskly walk away. Massaging the prickly feeling from his arms, "Glacial. My old bones are still chattering from all that frosty air."
"You'll have to forgive Commander Sirko and the other Black Watch members. They're loyal to the Republic beyond words, but they have no love for the Jedi," said Captain Aston. "Many of their friends were killed by assassin strike teams during the war. Although they did plenty in return, make no mistake."
Ah, the odd darkness from the shuttle. Welo must know how to hide it well in my presence, realized Bastila.
"And you're bringing them along because...," Jolee retorted.
"Because of Admiral Cede," the captain replied. "He has authority over the logistics. Admiral Onasi couldn't have pulled it together without his help. Personally, I think Cede had simply tired of blindly signing for resources and wanted to leave his own mark in some way. Black Watch falls under his command. What better way to show the necessity of continued funding in rebuilding their units than showing them in successful combat actions? It was also his demand that Sirko be promoted to commander and given the executive officer's position."
"You're sure their presence is wise?" asked Bastila.
"Wise is too subjective," he stated, "but I do know from early round-table discussions with Sirko, that it's in their best interest Revan is found."
Bastila's eyes narrowed. Not liking where the conversation was going, "So they can have their revenge?" she asked, spitting the words.
Jolee pulled at his throat, clearing a sudden blockage. "Let's keep our wits about us. I'm guessing, Captain, they want to find him to ensure he's safe?"
"Of course. No doubt Black Watch just wants to make sure you have all the help you need in case Revan's fallen to the dark side again. This is as much out of my hands as Admiral Onasi's."
His words weren't helping to abate the frustration building in her. In fact, he was tossing raw fuel into the fire. What business what it of theirs concerning Revan? All she wanted was a simple ride to follow her instincts and the leads she'd been given. Personal agendas, Republic bureaucracy and politics had not been on the menu. There is no emotion..., she began reciting, despite her beliefs in it having wavered for years.
Jolee sensed her heaving internal composure. At moments, she seemed to be holding an entire sea of feelings back with only a firm grasp of the force and possibly shear will. He would have to remain vigilant, for the dark side was never far when such emotions strayed from careful balance.
The image of her standing so defiantly—so sure of her decision to join Malak upon the Rakatan Temple summit rushed back. She had laughed at his words, but Revan never gave up—begging and pleading with her to turn away from the cloak of darkness extinguishing the light within. What a surprise it would be later when she discovered he'd used every bit of his knowledge of the force to dull her movements and powers during their battles. It was not without great effort on his part. She'd used her own enhanced meditative capabilities upon herself and it was everything he could do to match her level of focus. The love he held for her demanded no harm would come to her by his own hands—no matter what. It was a dangerous risk to take in maintaining such focus and will of strength, but as he'd said when asked, "I'd rather die by her blade, then continue on knowing I failed to save her." Upon hearing the words, she'd crashed to her knees, streamers of tears dotting the deckplate. Revan joined her—pressing their faces into each other's shoulders they wept together. No one dared approach them. They emerged from their long embrace wounded afresh, but stronger for it.
Hoping a change of subject matter would give her a moment to refind her inner peace, "You mentioned 'null jumps' earlier, Captain. I guess we'll be making random jumps and hiding between systems to throw off anyone trying to track us?" Jolee asked.
"Yes, even when we don't have a clear destination, such as right now, we'll be making random jumps at random times. We'll also be operating under false transponder codes. After this first jump, we'll be the Correllian Sunrise for a time. Unless someone gets a direct visual, no one will be the wiser. Just another luxury, heavy transport vessel passing through."
"Ah yes, that does brings back some memories. Why, I remember this one time, on my way to Ord Biniir, I jumped into a system only to find a nest of pirates dirtying up the whole place," he said, waving his hands through the air. "Blasted thugs were all over me before I knew what was happening. Couldn't let em have the cargo and that old hauler took several minutes to update nav jump coordinates."
The captain leaned forward, wondering how he could've escaped such a predicament. "And what happened then, Master Bindo?"
"Well—hey, how many times do I have to I have to tell you kids about that whole 'Master' thing? It's enough to make an old man's jaw fall off!"
The captain, annoyed at his own forgetfulness, touched the spot over his heart and gave a short, apologetic bow to the elder. "My apologies, please continue."
Dismissing the apology with a wave, "Bah, if you get any more formal, you'll snap in half the next time you do that. Now, where was I?"
"Pirates at Ord Biniir, I believe."
"Ah yes...no wait. They weren't at Ord Biniir, they were at some system along the way. Can't remember the name of it." Twirling his finger near his head, "Heh...went missing with half of the other junk up there. Anyway, I convince the pirate leader that I'll give him half the contents in my hold if he'll let me go, or I'll blow the whole thing up."
"You would've destroyed the ship and yourself?"
"Yep, the ship, me and the goodies. He actually believed me and accepted." Remembering the favorite saying of a certain assassin droid, "Real meatbag, that one," he said.
"Most are. Little honor among such rabble. I don't understand why the Republic doesn't form a task force and hunt them all down once and for all," the captain proclaimed.
"Hey, you telling this story or am I?"
Certainly wanting to hear the rest of the story, "My apol...I mean, please continue, Mast..." The captain groaned as his shoulders slumped from his attempts to untangle the jumble of do's and don'ts tripping up inside his head. "Please continue," he finally blurted.
Enjoying every bit of the captain's troubles, "So, I dash off to the cargo hold and kick open one of the containers, flip some switches and leave the package in the dump chute. I get back to the cockpit and find a row of happy greens on the nav-board. Called up the pirate leader and told him the goodies were coming. By then, there must've been, oh, fifteen or more of their little ships hanging around. Like I said, real bunch of winners, these guys. Not wanting to disappoint them, I release the package and punch the hyperdrive. Thirty seconds later, they're having a real bad day."
"What were you carrying?"
"Well, I can't actually say. Good stuff though, no doubt about that," Jolee claimed, thoughtfully stroking his snow-white beard—his eyes focused on some far away, distant era.
Captain Aston pushed fingers through his hair, finding a particular spot to scratch with determination. "I'm sorry, what did that have to do with null jumps and fake transponder codes?" he asked, trying to track down the moral point or any point for that matter to the story.
"I suppose nothing, now that you mention it."
His eyes narrowing as he realized he'd been had, "I see," he said slowly. Tugging on his dress coat to smooth out some unruly folds, he returned to the picture-perfect essence of the ideal officer.
"Would you be so kind as to escort Bastila to her quarters, Jolee. I'm sure she'd like to catch up on some rest from her journey. There will be a general briefing at twenty-hundred where Bastila can inform us of our first destination." Returning his attention to her and fully at the task at hand, "I understand you're awaiting information from Admiral Onasi, correct?" he asked.
Bastila nodded. "I take it you spoke with Carth during my transit here?"
The captain returned the gesture. "Yes, he wanted to wish us a safe journey."
She relayed the information that it could be a couple days before he would have any updated information on the Ebon Hawk's current location. "You'll have the information as soon as I have it, Captain."
"That will be fine," he replied.
Jolee motioned for Bastila to follow. "Come on, kid. Let's find you some shiny, new quarters so you can kick your feet up and air out."
As they set out toward the access hatch, "Trying to imply something?" she asked.
Holding the word out overly dramatically, "No," he replied, "not me."
"I want to thank you for you did back there. I'm not sure what I would've said next."
Holding his hands up innocently, "I thought you knew, I just like telling stories. Makes us old people feel important."
She cocked a disbelieving look toward him.
"Okay, okay, so the truth is I just enjoy annoying you youngsters. Shaking his hands out in front of him, "Young people make it so easy with your 'Already know all I need to know about the galaxy and you're just an old guy so go away,' attitudes. Besides," he added, "it's too early for you two to be strangling each other. We still have this big, important mission of yours to do. Right?"
"Yes, you are right."
"Good. How about we grab some lunch after you settle in. All that gum flappin' makes me hungry."
With a stifled chuckle she agreed.
Relina jogged up to the captain, greasy stripes decorating her face and arms. "Hey, Cap, that shuttle's all snarked up," she stated, scrubbing a quickly blackening rag across the worst spots of her arms. "We need to get a crew together and put it up on 'pulsor jacks for a gear swap." When he failed to answer right away, she followed his gaze toward the two receding Jedi. "Captain?"
"That's fine, Relina. I'll have the maintenance chief take care of it. I have another task for you."
"Whatcha got, Cap?"
"I want you to take on the responsibilities of personal assistant to Bastila. She may need help during this mission and I'd like you to see to it her needs are met."
Trying to rub off a particularly slimy swath of actuator lubricant, "Uh, what about my flight duties?" she asked. "I'll still have my combat flight status, right?"
"You'll still do that as well, but I'll have Dustil take over primary flight duties. He should be arriving shortly."
"Dustil?" she quizzed. "You don't mean Dustil Onasi?"
"Yes, do you know him?"
"I know his reputation."
"Then you'll know more than that soon enough." The captain gave his full attention to the young woman. "Bastila's headstrong, probably moody and no doubt will be very resistant to your offer of help. Keep at her until she gives in."
Relina eyed him suspiciously, her hands finding their natural resting spot on her hips. "Is there some sort of problem?"
"No, at least not yet. It's just I believe her little Jedi world has crumbled around her and she's looking for the one thing that will keep her sanity from a total collapse. I need to make sure that doesn't happen while she's pointing us ever deeper into the Unknown Regions."
She nodded slowly as his words sunk in. "You want me to spy on her."
Ignoring her comment, he placed a firm grip on her shoulder, "Whatever you choose, this stays between us. So, what will it be?" he asked.
"Oh, you can count on me, Cap." Glancing over, she caught the two Jedi disappear through the access hatch. With a playful purr, "I'll do it with pleasure."