PERFECT STRANGERS: PART VII

THIS PART IS DEDICATED TO KASEY MCHENRY!

Many thanks for your unceasing patience and encouragement!

(As well as the steady bombardment of demanding emails :)

You are the coolest!

4865345-4565

I love Brock Mitchell. I love Brock Mitchell! I LOVE BROCK MITCHELL! Oh yeah and we're on our way back to Yavin. And everything is perfect. And I miss him terribly already…

Jaina sighed happily, lying on the bunk in the resting quarters of the Liberty. Tenel and Tahiri surrounded her, demanding details of the previous night.Jaina grinned, appeased them with the evening's highlights, and kept the intimate details to herself.

Several light years away, Brock was reclined on his couch in the middle of a similar inquisition. He missed Jaina so much already, but he couldn't keep a smile from his face.

"He's a disgrace to bachelors all over the galaxy." Jeremy teased. "Jaina Solo has turned him into a gooey, romantic mess." Brock rolled his eyes, but was in too good of a mood to retort.

"So is it official or not?" Lucy asked, sitting up on the edge of the couch.

Brock cocked an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean official?"

"I mean if I asked her if she was your girlfriend, what would she say?"

Zane rolled his eyes. "Only a girl would ask a question like that."

Lucy made a face at him, but Brock fell silent for a moment. "I don't know." he finally answered.

Zane laughed. "Bad question, worse answer."

Jeremy rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the side of his chair. "You don't know! After all this, how can you not know!"

"Well, I don't know that we have an official title. But I guess we're dating exclusively, or we will be when she gets back. I don't know if that's something we talk about later or if I can just assume."

"But you said you kissed her." Lucy pushed.

"I did-- kinda."

Lucy laughed. "What's kinda! There was either connection or not. There's no halfway!"

Brock rolled his eyes, and lowered his voice, embarrassed. "It wasn't what I wanted it to be, we ran outta time."

"They don't need a label, Lucy." Zane interrupted.

"Well, if there's no label, it's not socially official." Lucy explained. "And if that's the case, she's still fair game—so as long as you're okay with that…"

Brock glared at her.

Lucy smiled. "Yeah, you're totally not okay with that. You should talk to her about it."

"Luce, it's only been like twenty-four hours. She's light years away and probably really busy."

"So what? Do you love her or not?"

"Whoa, whoa—we don't talk like that in this house." Jeremy piped up.

Brock chuckled and tried to settle the feeling that shot through his chest like a laserbolt at the mention of the word.

For the next few days, Coruscant was fairly quiet. The few space runs to be made were mindless, and were given to Bravo Squadron as training exercises. The only excitement that had occurred was that a few pilots had come back down from missions disoriented and three pilots nearly crashed into the surface. The medical technicians were swearing it was something in the atmosphere, but they had yet to prove anything. However, after the third accident, Brock was sent up with Echo Squad to examine the area. All of the results came back negative, and Brock found it to be a huge waste of time. He had better things to do-- like sit in his room and write sappy letters to his long distance girlfriend. He missed her intensely and had to force himself repeatedly not to jump in his fighter and go finish that kiss.

Two and a half weeks went by, full of absolutely nothing, save for Jaina's sweet letters and holovids. Brock's will to stay on Coruscant had long faded. After much rationalization, he decided it was time for a surprise visit.

Around noon the next day, Brock walked at a fairly rapid pace down the hall toward the exit of the residential wing. He started toward the landing bays, trying to suppress a grin and a twinge of excitement. He neared his destination, but found he was suddenly joined by a large group of ranking officers. A crowd was gathering around the empty platforms where the Bravo fighters usually docked. Brock watched as a slew of x-wings entered the bay. Many, he noticed, guided by auto-pilot. His brow furrowed as he watched the scene.

Officers mobbed the landing fighters and as the younger pilots unmanned their ships, they fought against them with animal-like rage. "Where is he!" they screamed. "Where is he!"

Brock made his way to the deck officer. "What in the worlds is goin' on?" he asked.

"We don't know." the man answered worriedly. "We got a call in from a few of the pilots saying the team was acting kinda funny. When we asked them to return home, they all went berserk. Medics keep saying it's that stuff floating around in our atmosphere, but nobody--"

"There he is!" the cry rang out. "There he is!"

Dropping his bag, Brock spun around and suddenly found himself being rushed by David Knight, Captain of Bravo squadron, and half of his team. Brock put his hands up in defense, but not before David slugged him hard in the eye.

"You!" he screamed, grabbing Brock by the collar of his uniform. "They're coming for you! Just when you least expect it you'll be outta here. If I hadn't been ordered not to kill you myself, you'd be--"

Just then several officers caught up to David and his seven followers. That was more than half the Bravo team. Several officers, led by Captain Allen hauled the affected pilots in the direction of the med center. David continued to shout threats and obscenities at Brock until Captain Allen finally stunned him with a blaster pistol. Brock stood in shocked silence. The unaffected fighters began to trickle in one after another and they quickly descended their ship's ladders to find out what had happened to their squadron. People were whispering and asking questions, most directed at Brock. But Brock spoke to no one; he was trying to process what had just happened and who had suddenly put a threat on his head.

"Who's coming for me? Who even knows who I am? Brock let his fingers graze the left side of his face, which was starting to throb. Ten minutes later, the crowd began to dissipate and Brock turned to see one of the medical assistants flying toward him.

"Captain Mitchell!" The young medical assistant stopped in front of the confused officer. "Sir, I need you to come with me. We need to check out your injury, and I'm sure you'd like to know what's going on as well."

"No, no. I can diagnose myself. I've had black eyes, bloody noses and fat lips all before. I'm fine. Can you just tell me what's going on?"

"Well, not really, sir. The doctor wants to see you and talk to you."

"Look, I have somewhere to be!" Brock said kicking at the bag he'd dropped on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Captain. Doctor Myers was very insistent."

Not wanting to start another fight, Brock exhaled loudly and grabbed his bag off the ground. "This better be real quick."

Brock entered the crowded med center and followed the intern into an exam room. The young physician checked out Brock's face and discovered that nothing was broken, only bruised. He put a tiny transparent patch near Brock's temple to administer painkiller for his eye, which Brock found to be an awful lot of trouble for something so minor. Doctor Myers entered while his assistant was still working on Brock.

"Captain Mitchell, sir. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. It's just a black eye. No big deal. What's up with Dave?"

Myers sighed. "He tested positive for the same stuff we've been finding in Bravo pilots the past two weeks. We still don't know where it's come from, but apparently it's some sort of mind-altering drug. That's why David attacked you."

Brock nodded. "So what can you do?"

"Well, we're keeping him here of course. We'll run some more tests and try to determine what the stuff is made from so we can get an antidote for it. If we don't have anything, we may contact the Jedi Healers on Yavin to create something for us."

Brock's eyes lit up. Doctor Myers continued. "In the mean time, I think Captain Antilles wants to go up and check it out."

Just then there was a knock at the door. Doctor Myers motioned for his assistant to send whoever it was away. But upon opening the door, he found none other than the Captain himself.

"Doctor Myers, Captain Antilles is here to speak with Captain Mitchell."

"Oh very well, let him in."

Captain Wedge Antilles sauntered into the exam room and Brock stood at his presence. "It's alright, Mitchell, you can sit down. You alright?"

"Yes sir." Brock answered. "Just a black eye."

Wedge nodded. "Yeah, this stuff is more serious than we thought. Unfortunately, it took multiple shipwrecks and a threat on your life for us to do something about it. And I do apologize about that."

Brock shrugged again. "It's alright. What are we gonna do now?"

"We're sending Echo Squad up to check this out, this time with gear, so nobody gets hurt."

"Good, good." Brock responded. "When do we go?"

Wedge shook his head. "You're not goin' anywhere."

"Beg your pardon, sir?"

Wedge laughed in disbelief. "You're crazy if you think we'd let you go up after today. You just got a serious warning that someone or something is after you. I suppose there could be any number of random reasons, but I'm willing to bet that your new Solo family connection is to blame. Unfortunately, getting close to any of those kids is like volunteering to face a firing squad. You're staying here."

Brock sat up abruptly. "Excuse me, Captain, but I'm not staying anywhere. I'm going up with my team."

Wedge crossed his arms, surprised by the younger Captain's tone. "What makes you think you have the right to defy me, Mitchell?"

"I mean no disrespect, Captain," Brock answered quickly. "But I can't just sit around and wait for someone to sneak up on me. I am still Captain of Echo Squad. And if someone wants to threaten my life, they should at least have the decency to do it to my face."

There was a long mutual silence. "I'm fully aware of how dangerous it is," Brock began again. "But I just won't sit here and--"

"You're taking your life into your own hands, you know."

Brock straightened up. "Yes sir, I know."

Wedge shook his head and looked up at Brock. "Stubborn-ass boy," he muttered. "No wonder we made you a Captain." he slapped Brock on the shoulder. "They're leaving tomorrow morning at 0900."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain Antilles." Brock answered.

Wedge pushed the button to open the door. "Don't thank me. Just don't get yourself killed."

THE NEXT MORNING...

Thrilled to finally be on a meaningful mission, Brock arrived at the hangar early the next morning. He was looking forward to the flight, but he hadn't forgotten about visiting Jaina either. Captain Antilles' voice snapped him out of his daydream.

"Captain Mitchell," he began, shaking Brock's hand. "You feel alright?"

"Just fine, sir."

"Alright-- well, watch yourself today. I mean-- I know you know what you're doing, but this stuff is dangerous. I don't want any of you boys up there longer than you have to be. Make sure you stay on task and get home as fast as you can, understand?"

Brock nodded. "Aye, Captain."

Wedge departed and Brock whistled loudly to call his team around.

"Alright guys, we're gonna split up and search the whole area around Coruscant. We don't exactly know what we're looking for, so if you see anything abnormal, don't hesitate to say something. And-- do me a favor a keep your comms on, just in case."

"Aye, Cap'n."

Brock glanced around the circle. "If there aren't any questions, let's fly."

The pilots broke their circle and headed for their individual ships. When they reached deep space, they parted and vanished in different directions. Brock sent out various probes and detectors that he had been given by Wedge to test the atmosphere. He moved his ship around in the area to observe from different angles and transmitted the results of the tests back to Coruscant. After he finished the tests, he cruised around for about twenty minutes, checking up on the rest of his team. But his heart and mind were far from Echo squadron. Brock was finally snapped out of his trance by the beep of a comlink.

"Uh, guys?"

"What is it, Sal?"

"Well, I was wondering if anyone else had little red ships on their radar."

Brock glanced at his starboard to see tiny red dots moving in on them from all sides.

"What the--? Shields up now, Echoes." Brock spun his fighter around. Nothing. "Does anybody see them?"

"Negatory, Captain."

Brock swore under his breath. "I wasn't planning on a fight, so I hope you guys are up on your combat skills. Keep your eyes open."

Strangely, the search went on without a disturbance for several more minutes, until Lucy beeped in.

"Something's coming up, Cap'n."

"Where at, Lucky?"

"Five, six and seven."

Brock glanced at his scope. Two familiar ships were barreling down on him rather quickly.

"TIE Fighters!" he stammered in disbelief. "Where did those come from!"

"I was wondering myself, Cap'n!"

"Sithspawn! No time to figure it out, here they come! On the offense, Echoes!"

Tristan stomped across the bridge. "How many did you send out, Cerberus?"

"Twenty, Admiral."

"Fine, I don't care how they do it, just get the Captain."

"Stangit." Taurus cursed. "Our numbers are falling. Rather quickly."

"What!" Tristan growled. "I don't want any casualties now! We're going to need those pilots later! Draw them this way!"

Taurus alerted the pilots and they began to recoil toward the Artemis.

Echo squadron chased the fighters a little further into space. Brock watched as many of them suddenly backed off. Several fighters remained, but the rest had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Jeremy fired once more and sent shrapnel flying everywhere. "They're retreating, Mitch."

"Where'd they go?" Lucky asked.

"I don't know." Brock answered.

"Should we follow them, Cap'n?" Zane asked.

"No." Brock answered, feeling a sudden calm about the attack. "No, I don't think we should follow them. If they have reinforcements, we aren't ready to take them on. Let's blast the rest of these guys and get outta here."

"What's happening, Taurus!"

"I've pulled back all of our manned fighters. I left the droid operated ones so the Echoes can blast them and believe they're rid of us."

"Fine, Did you get him?"

Taurus grinned. "We lost one man, but we're about to gain another one. I've got Merlyn's signal."

Lockhart suppressed a victory laugh. "Oh, you're all mine now, Captain!"

After a spirited fireworks display, the last of the enemy fighters were gone. Brock sighed with relief. The victory had been relatively easy and he didn't think much of the strange old ships. "Probably some stupid thieves. Got sick of their old TIE's and tried to jack some x-wings instead."

"Alright, Echoes, good job on short notice."

"Your ship alright?" Jeremy asked. "You got popped by that last one."

"I did?" Brock asked. "Geez, I didn't even notice."

"Must be those 'come hither' vibes radiating from Yavin IV." Zane chimed in. "Messin' with your head, huh Cap'n?"

The whole squad laughed and Brock rolled his eyes.

The rest of Echo squad counted off and each member was accounted for. Brock pondered a thought. This surprise attack was definitely important, and there was even a chance that this could have something to do with the earlier threat on his life. He knew Captain Antilles would have his head if he didn't come straight back, but-- Jaina.

His trip to Yavin had been canceled by higher power-- but higher power was no longer present—at least for the moment. Yavin was remarkably close to where they were. And he was sure Jaina could use a break from training.

"Uh, guys, I have some unfinished business to attend to before I head home."

The pilots snickered again. "Uh huh." Jeremy teased. "Don't even bother with the cover, Mitchie."

"Can you blame me?" Brock laughed.

"Brock, are you sure about this?" Lucy cut in. "After this fight, Captain A is sure to--"

"Lucky, I can't stand it down there any longer. I've gotta go. I'll be home in a few days!"

"Guess we don't have to tell you to have fun." Jeremy said over the intercom. "But what do we tell Captain?"

Brock thought for a moment. "Well, I've already sent back the test results so he shouldn't have too much to whine about. You can tell him I went to inform the Jedi healers about what's going on."

Jeremy shook his head. "Alright. I'll make sure we get back in one piece."

Brock smiled. "Thanks Sal. I'll see ya!"

Brock reset his course and pulled away from the group. As he waited for his squad to jump into hyperspace, he felt a chill of excitement run through his veins. He was on his way.

"It's working. It's working!"

The crew of the Artemis was in an uproar. He was headed directly at their ship. Just a bit further and he would be locked in the tractor beam.

"Benjamyn Taurus!" Lockhart bellowed.

"Everything's a go, Admiral!" Taurus shouted. "He's flying straight this way. We're just waiting to get in range!"

Tristan grinned. "Merlyn just saved his own life. I knew I kept him around for a reason!"

Brock relaxed as his ship drifted in the direction of Yavin. He was so happy to finally be on his way that he felt a little lightheaded. He shook his head. Concentrate, Mitchell. he told himself. Concentrate so you don't wreck before you get there!

Brock looked up and noticed that his ship had changed direction from the way he had programmed. Surely he hadn't been that groggy. He messed with the direction controls and found himself heading around the far orbit of Coruscant. "What's going on? I don't have control!" Brock frantically tried several buttons and levers on his starboard only to be disappointed. He looked up, again and his mouth fell open. "Where did that come from?" A massive ship loomed in front of him. All of his weapon systems, communication controls, and direction controls were down, and he was locked in their tractor beam, moving steadily toward a small door on the side of the ship. There was nothing to be done. He didn't stand a chance. He reached down and made sure his blaster was set to "kill".

Jeremy successfully brought Echo squadron back down and was immediately greeted by Captain Antilles in the landing bay.

"What happened, Salinas?"

"Well, believe it or not, we had a little skirmish with some TIE fighters, but we beat 'em and everything's fine."

The Captain's eyes widened. "TIE fighters?" he paused. "That's strange. Where's Mitchell?" Wedge inquired.

"He said to tell you he was goin' to Yavin to talk to the Jedi Healers?"

Wedge cursed under his breath. "He disobeyed me! I swear-- I gave him very clear instructions!"

Brock sat frozen in the cockpit. His anxiety had driven away the grogginess that had overcome him in the cockpit. The room he had been pulled into was completely white. It looked like something out of an eerie dream. There was not a life form in sight, and the room looked as if it had been built around his x-wing and sealed shut. He wondered if there was any way out. After much contemplation, he popped the canopy and climbed out of the x-wing. Drawing his blaster, he searched the room for a door or an opening in the walls. But before he could walk ten feet, the top of the walls began to move. Tiny doors slid open around the perimeter of the ceiling. Brock fixed his eyes on the holes and waited for something to happen, but nothing ever did. Or at least, he didn't see anything. But after about a minute, he began to feel dizzy and weak. He made a shaky attempt to re-board his x-wing, but he collapsed after only a few steps. He lay on the floor for what felt like an hour, but was really only a few minutes. Finally, a larger door opened and two men in heavy black boots and masks came into the room. He tried to sit up and ask a question, but he was so disoriented that such a complex task was impossible. He fell to the floor again and one of the men rolled him over on his side. Then without warning, the other man stabbed what had to be a needle into his neck, and seconds later his thoughts and vision faded to black. The two men then lifted him from the floor and carried him out of the room.

Closing the doors, Commander Taurus pulled the mask from his mouth and smiled at General Cerberus.

"All too easy, wasn't it, Captain?"

END PART SEVEN