Trouble in the Storm

Kirn was pacing the only empty hallway in the entire base. Unfortunately for him, it was enclosed on one side by huge windows. Rainwater lapped against the transparisteel, making it difficult for him to concentrate. With a sigh, he gave up. After all, the last time he had tried to meditate had lead the embarrassing run-in with Jerica.

Deciding to return to his quarters, he turned, only to see her walking down that very hallway. She was dressed in a plain gray dress, and her hair was worn down. This was a new look for the normally, well dressed, hair-styled Senator. In fact, Kirn almost didn't recognize her, but when he did, he couldn't help but groan. Of course, he thought Of all the rebels in this Force-forsaken-

"You never explained what you were doing up at that hour." That was the Jerica he knew. No greeting, no "good morning, Kirn," just straight to accusing him.

Kirn forced a composed answer, "I was meditating."

"So much for not being a Jedi," Jerica said, under her breath.

Kirn shook his head, "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," she said, in a way that was more of a challenge than an offer.

Kirn couldn't help but rise to the challenge, "Not until you tell me what has been eating at you since Yavin."

She held up her hand and, shaking her head, she turned away, "No, no. I am not going to go through this again."

"Ah," Kirn said. "That's the definition of a politician. They expect everyone to trust them, but they trust no one."

Jerica turned back to him, "As much as I would love to discuss the ethics of politicians, I have something more pressing to attend to."

Kirn shrugged, "Typical politician answer."

Jerica scoffed, before turning away.

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

Having called in a favor, Jerica had been given clearance to use a small fighter ship for her journey to Naboo. She convinced General Rieekan that she would not need an escort, but she did need a droid to assist her in piloting. An astromech droid called R7D9 had been given to her for this mission.

Now standing before the transparisteel doors that would lead her and the small droid out on to the landing platform, she hesitated. The storm seemed to be getting worse, but there was never a calm day on Kamino. With a deep breath, she adjusted the shoulder strap of her single bag and looked at R7, "It's now or never."

She tapped a panel next to the door, and with a gust of cold air, she stepped out into the storm. She thanked the Force for warm brown cloak she had been given. It would keep her dry for now. The small fighter looked ancient, but it should bring her to Naboo in one piece, she decided.

"Well- whoa!" Her feet slid right out from underneath her and she fell to the ground. As she pulled herself back up to her feet, she grimaced at how ridiculous she must have looked. She thanked the Force again but this time for the fact that Kirn wasn't around to see this.

"Alright, R7," she told the droid. "Get this ship ready for take off."

The fighter had a small port made especially for an astromech droid, and R7 was already inside, whistling at her in what she assumed was a "yes, ma'am."

Jerica shook the last of the doubt from her mind, and she was about to open the transparisteel cockpit, when, "Jerica!"

Kirn was walking out the door, cloak drawn tightly around himself, coming toward her on the loading dock. His voice was barely heard over the storm. As he got closer he called again, "Jerica, I need to talk to you!"

"Force!" Jerica called over the roar of the storm, "Don't you ever give up?"

"Where are you going! The storm's too strong!"

"Can you even hear yourself!" Jerica shouted. "This is one of the weaker storms!"

Kirn looked out at the raging water. The waves were so high, and it was raining so hard that water was splashing all over the platform. "Look, can we just go inside and discuss this!"

"No!" Jerica shouted. "Are you crazy! I have to leave! I don't have time for this!"

Jerica turned, and just as the transparisteel cockpit opened to allow her inside, she felt herself being tackled from behind. Kirn had grabbed her arm, and in his clumsy effort, he had slid on the wet platform, crashing into her and sending both of them sprawling to the ground.

The two were now soaked head to toe. Kirn got to his feet and pulled Jerica up to her own feet before she could protest. Pulling her away from the ship, he slid again, falling flat on his back. Having been running, his momentum sent him sliding toward the far end of the landing platform. With a disgusted sigh, he realized that he had lost his grip on Jerica. She was now lying on her stomach, sliding across the wet surface.

Fortunately, a barricade surrounded the landing platform, preventing them from sliding right over the edge. The second his feet hit the meter high wall, Kirn stopped and, turning on to his side, caught Jerica into his arms. "What are you doing? Crazy!" she said, fighting against his grip.

He put her between himself and the wall, with his back the ship, "Get your head down!"

Jerica was aware of the sound of missile fire and then a fiery explosion, followed by more missile fire. Kirn looked back. "Oh, Sith, they're coming back around."

Jerica was frozen in fear. The ship, the very ship she had nearly climbed into, had exploded. R7, the ship . . . all that was left was a crater in the platform.

"Come on," Kirn said, urgently, struggling to get to his feet. "We have to go."

She looked up at him with fear-filled eyes.

"Trust me," he said. "I'm going to save you."

She still didn't move, so, gathering her up into his arms, Kirn lifted her from the ground. He stepped up on to the barricade. And jumped.

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

Kirn found freefalling to be a strange sensation, especially when falling to a watery death. As much as Kirn didn't like water and had always hoped to avoid drowning, he didn't have the time to consider it. There had only been one objective, to save Jerica.

Keeping one hand around Jerica's waist, he took his harpoon gun from his belt and fired. The powerful magnet shot out, attaching to the underbelly of the platform. The cable jerked, and Jerica and Kirn's decent came to an abrupt halt. Dangling there under the platform, Jerica, her arms wrapped tightly around Kirn's neck, couldn't help but asked the obvious question, "What now?"

"Shh," Kirn said, "Listen." There were more laser blasts, before two ships went flying over the platform and out over ocean, into the distance.

"What are they?" Jerica asked.

"I don't know." Kirn admitted. Looking down at the water far beneath his feet, he added, "Let's get out of here."

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

After the incident on the landing platform, Rieekan had insisted that Jerica travel with an escort. She had protested.

"How can you be so certain that I was the target?" Jerica had pressed.

A voice answered, "Yeah, they might have been after R 7."

Jerica had turned and shot Kirn a terse look. He just continued to lean against the control panel and gave her an innocent shrug.

Rieekan had eventually convinced her, and Kirn, being considered a Rebel Commander and excellent warrior, was selected to accompany her.

As Jerica walked with Kirn toward the landing platform that now held his ship, she regained a grip on her emotions. "I suppose I should thank you for saving my life."

"Yeah," Kirn agreed with a smirk. "You should."

Jerica just shook her head, "Well, thank you . . . Master Jedi."

Kirn stopped in his tracks. How many times have I told her-

"Look," Jerica said, stopping and turning to face him. "If you are going to deny it, then explain how you knew those ships were coming, how you knew they were going to strike, how you knew to save my life by-"

"I don't know how I knew." He interrupted. It wasn't the complete truth, but he didn't feel like explaining.

Jerica raised an eyebrow. "Jedi," she said.

"What would you know about it anyway?" Kirn asked, giving in to frustration. "How many jedi have you known?"

"Personally, none." Jerica shook her head, "My mother knew a few. Besides Naboo has the feats of Jedi logged in their archives, especially the story of Master Qui Gon and Master Kenobi. I used to read about them, when I was younger."

Kirn arched his eyebrows over his stormy blue eyes. "And that makes you an expert?"

"I know enough," she said, determined, "to know that you are not just an ordinary soldier."

Kirn looked at her for a moment, before a roguish smirk crossed his face, "Why, thank you, my lady."

Jerica rolled her eyes, and hurried on ahead to the landing platform. Looking on to the deck, she gasped, "What happened to the Guard?"

"The name of the ship," Kirn said, with forced patience, "is The Defender." With a sigh he said, "Nothing happened. I just made some modifications to it. After that skirmish above Utapau, I knew I wouldn't last without a faster ship."

Jerica accepted the explanation. "So," she said, gesturing through the transparisteel toward the ship, "shall we?"

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

An awkward silence had lingered between the former senator and the rebel commander since they had been given permission to leave. Having already brought The Defender into hyperspace, Kirn was out of excuses for maintaining the silence. He wanted to talk about something, just not his supposed status as a jedi. Why don't we discuss Lady Jerica for once? "So," he began, as he adjusted some of the controls, "Is Jerica your real name?"

Jerica looked back at him with a mixture of incredulity and suspicion, "Is that something you ask all your passengers?"

"No," Kirn said. "I've just always heard the Senators went by assumed names. So what about it? Is Jerica your real name?"

Jerica sighed, but she decided to humor him. "No, my real name is Kyra."

"Kyra? Are last names no longer used?" Oh, you're not getting away with half answers sister, not after the way you question me.

"Darred. My name is Kyra Darred."

She said it in a way that made him think he should know that name, but he couldn't think of a time when he had heard the name "Darred" before. "So," he said, "where did Jerica come from?"

She shrugged, "Princess Jerica was great leader of Naboo. She helped in the era of suffering that preceded the Great Time of Peace. She was a bold warrior, an exceptional diplomat, and a kind woman. She was everything my mother wanted me to be."

"So what happened to this Princess?"

"She fought for peace," Jerica said, quietly. "But she never saw the victory." There was a pause, as Jerica set her expression in a stern mask. But when she spoke, her voice was soft and wavering, "She died."