Chapter 17

This jump in hyperspace was longer than my first one that took me to Dagobah. I had replenished my supplies with some surplus MRE's or meal-ready-to-eat, and several bottles of water. Most of my trip was spent in the hibernation trance but I still had to emerge every couple of days or so to eat and drink.

The Force was warning me something lay ahead. As I prepared to leave hyperspace, I did a quick check of ship's systems. Everything was in the green. The Force was vague so acting on my own; I brought my combat systems to standby and reached over to the hyperspace levers. Taking a deep calming breath, I pulled back on the levers . . . to be rocked by a near-miss explosion as I entered realspace.

My 'flash-learning' had been specific on combat situations. I reached over my head and flipped the switch to open my S-foils as I said: "Warbler, activate the shields and balance them fore and aft while I get a look at what we just jumped into." I nudged my throttle up a little bringing me to attack speed as I tasked the IFF, the Identifier Friend or Foe, with the situation.

My IFF bounced back two 'friendlies' and six enemies. My sensors locked on to the friendlies first and identified two X-wings. The enemies identified as Twin Ion Engine or TIE fighters. I found myself in the 'kill' position on one of the TIEs as Warbler indicated target lock. Pressing the trigger, my weapons cycled a sequence of four shots that converged on the TIE fighter perfectly.

The two friendlies completed a 'head-to-head' skirmish resulting in two less TIE fighters to trouble us with. Warbler had given me as much information as he could on current Empire vehicles and tactics. TIE fighters, lacking shields and no hyperspace ability were dependent on a base of operations ship. Basically they were a metal and plastic sphere with two solar panel arrays attached to them.

My shields took a direct hit from my port quarter. Warbler gave a shrill warning of: "One more direct hit on the port quarter and we're done. Do some of that pilot poodoo!" Glancing at my shield display, I saw what Warbler meant. The indicator was showing dark yellow, almost red along that portion. I took my eyes from the shield indicator to my weapons and saw the capacitors were at full charge.

I said: "Warbler, redirect weapon energy to shields to boost the recharge rate; I've got power for a few shots yet. When the shields are back to full, send the energy back to the weapons. Hold on back there!" Warbler acknowledged my orders as I saw the surplus charge go from weapons to shields and in turn saw them start to strengthen faster.

The TIE that had hit me came around on my tail looking for the 'kill' shot. Shields or no, I couldn't take sustained direct fire to my back. On a Force-inspired hunch, I shifted the throttle to zero and applied my braking thrusters. The TIE overshot me and became the target instead. With my relative speed at zero, the TIE quickly entered and exited laser range. Switching to torpedoes, Warbler whistled a target lock almost instantly.

Pulling my trigger I felt the dull thump of a proton torpedo leaving the launch tube and saw it fly directly for the TIE. The torpedo punched completely through the spherical cockpit and out the other side to detonate a second later and consume the rest of the TIE.

The two friendlies quickly engaged and destroyed the remaining targets. One of the two came in behind me and Warbler warned that we were being 'painted' by the combat sensors. When the other one flew up on my starboard wing, Warbler said we were being scanned. The Force told me that they were being cautious. I heard my Grandfather's voice in the back of my mind say: "Trust." My Grandfather hadn't been wrong yet so I decided to trust him. I flipped the switch to close my S-foils. I said to myself: "Hopefully that will show them my intent."

When Warbler said we were no longer 'painted' I started to relax a little. My communications unit came to life as a male voice said: "Unknown starfighter, identify yourself." I tuned my comm unit to lock onto his channel and said: "Greetings pilot. My name is Ronin Jayks." The voice said: "What are your intentions Ronin Jayks?"

I said: "I've traveled a very long way to join you. If you'll have me, I want to join the Rebellion." The voice said: "I appreciate the help back there but you expect me to take you with us just like that?" I said: "Admittedly, that is up to you but the fact that I've closed my S-foils and am asking to accompany you should speak volumes pilot."

A new voice, the one of the pilot behind me I had to assume, came over the channel and said: "Come on Wedge. How about using some of that 'initiative' stuff the brass is always going on about?" The voice from before, the one tentatively identified as Wedge, answered back: "Quiet you."

Wedge said: "Let me converse with my trustingly naïve friend and get back to you Ronin Jayks." The channel went silent as I said: "What do you think Warbler?" Warbler said: "I'm not sure what to think sir. To judge from the amount of tightbeam transmissions, I'd say they are having a heated discussion."

A moment later, Wedge's voice came back over the channel and said: "Alright, you can come along. Slave your ship to mine and prepare for hyperspace." I said: "Getting a signal. Locked on. It's all yours pilot."

The hyperspace jump was a short one. Warbler told me it was called a 'microjump'. The tone of Warbler's voice prompted me to ask: "What troubles you my little friend?" Warbler shot back: "I hate being slaved to anything, it's . . . degrading." I smiled and said: "Do you think the ship's computer was any happier about being slaved to you at Dagobah or now?" He said: "You're right sir. I'm sorry for going off." I said: "Don't worry Warbler. As soon as they let us join, I'll personally remove the slave circuits. Would that make you feel any better?" "Yes sir, it would." He said.

As we came out of the microjump, I saw a huge ship with odd looking blisters all over the hull. Warbler identified it as a Mon Calamari cruiser when my comm channel lit up again as Wedge's voice said: "Alright Mr. Jayks, you have control back. By the way, you owe me one big time." The channel was silent as the other voice said: "Ronin? Don't worry about Wedge there. You see the comp-troller has been after Wedge for a date for months now. In order to let you in, he had to agree to one. By the way, my name is Wes Jansen. You can call me Wes." I said: "Thanks for the information Wes, but what's so bad about one date? Is she a Hutt or something?"

Wes's voice barked out a short laugh: "Worse." I said: "What could be worse than a Hutt? Conjoined Hutts?" Wes laughed a little harder and said: "No. She's a Zeltron. Everybody knows about Zeltrons." Admittedly, I didn't know much about Zeltrons but I didn't tell Wes that. The species had been mentioned in Warbler's brief to me. Something about pheromones and/or empathic abilities enabled them to give all of themselves to whatever course of action they pursued. According to the brief, it was usually fighting or making love.

Wedge came over the comlink and said: "Cut the chatter. How long since you made a ship-to-ship landing Mr. Jayks?" I didn't want to lie but then I knew I couldn't tell the truth just yet so I exaggerated. "Been awhile. I'm probably rusty but I can manage." Wedge said: "Don't worry then. As soon as you feel the tractor beam grab a hold of you, cut your engines back to zero thrust, engage your repulsorlift coils and follow the instructions of the landing tech. See you on the deck."

The channel went silent again. I could feel Wedge's agitation through the Force and asked: "Hey Wes. What's eating him?" Wes's emotions in the Force flickered a moment before he said: "You don't know it yet but just as you came out of hyperspace, your ship came through the explosion that had just killed our third flight member. At first Wedge and I both thought he had survived but a quick scan told us otherwise."

I asked: "I didn't even know there was a battle going on until I came out of hyperspace. What was his name?" Wes said: "Dolan Bree." Wedge and I have been flying with him for awhile now. Wedge hates notifying the next of kin. Dolan had a wife and son." I said: "I'm sorry to hear that Wes." There was no answer.

Wes said: "My turn to land, then yours. See you on deck."

Chapter 18

The channel went dead as I watched him land. Shortly after that, I felt a tug on the controls. My sensors said it was the promised tractor beam. Following Wedge's instructions, I cut my thrust to zero and engaged the repulsors. After passing through the atmospheric containment shield, I followed the landing tech's instructions, and brought the ship to a soft landing in the middle of a landing circle.

I powered down the systems and hit the switch to open the hatch. As I took my helmet and gloves off, a larger version of the built in boarding ladder clapped onto the side of the fuselage. Another technician climbed up and took my helmet and gloves and said: "We'll get it cleaned up for you right away sir. How many did you get?"

The question was so earnest that I was speechless a moment. Wedge's voice rang out from behind and down and said: "He has two confirmed eyeballs, Technician. Now let the man out so he can get down here!" The tech was startled a little and looked behind him and said: "Sorry sir."

I climbed down the ladder and stood facing Wedge and Wes for the first time. I was surprised at first to see they were about my height or a little shorter. Wedge had raven black hair in a militarily short cut and appeared a little younger than me in the face but his eyes spoke volumes. Wes had the same short hair but could only be described as 'baby-faced'. His eyes carried a glitter reserved for someone much younger but he carried himself with a professional air.

Wedge shook my hand and said: "Glad to meet you face-to-face Ronin Jayks. I'm Wedge Antilles and this is Wes Jansen." I shook Wes's hand as well as Wes looked down and said: "Is that what I think it is Ronin?" I looked down and realized he was referring to my lightsaber. I had forgotten it was even there since I had become comfortable with it there by now. I said: "That depends on what you think it is Wes."

Before I could say anymore, I heard Warbler saying: "Come on, come on, come on! I've got an oil bath and tune-up with my designation on it!" I looked over to see a strange looking crane with a grasping attachment shaped exactly like his head following the directions of the Technician who had taken my helmet and gloves a few minutes before.

I laughed out loud at Warbler's impatience. Wedge said: "What is so amusing Mr. Jayks?" Without thinking I pointed over my shoulder and said: "Warbler up there is eager for an oil bath and a tune up." When I saw the mystified looks on their faces, I realized what I had done. Wes said: "That settles it. He must be one if he can understand his droid." Wedge spoke then: "Maybe not Wes. You and I both know after working with the same astromech for a time it can seem like you understand them but only another droid really can."

At that moment, I felt a stirring in the Force. I turned to see the cause; an armed security detail was walking toward us. Wedge said: "Sorry Ronin. Regulations are specific on this count. We have to take you into custody until we can scan your droid's memory, and the black box data from your ship."

I could feel Wedge and Jansen's genuine regret over this turn of events. I said: "Nothing to apologize for sir. You're only doing your duty. On that count, I can understand." The security detail quietly surrounded me. One of them stepped forward. As I slowly reached for the lightsaber at my belt, the guards' hands went to the butts of their weapons but stopped as I took it from my belt and handed it to the security officer who had stepped up.

Another officer stepped forward with some kind of binding device in her hand. Wedge said firmly: "I don't think that will be necessary Sergeant. If this man is who and what I think he is, you and your detail would have been dead before a single blaster could have cleared a holster if he had wanted it that way. I'll take the heat for this if it comes. Put the binders away."

The Sergeant said: "Yes sir Commander Antilles."

The security detail escorted me off of the flight deck as Wedge and Jansen followed at a discreet distance. We came to a "T" junction in the corridor; I was taken to the right while Wedge and Jansen went straight ahead to an elevator. The walk was short as I was taken to the security office and placed in a holding cell which may have measured in at 6' x 6' square. There was only one door with a small window in it, a bunk on one wall and a small sink below a mirror on another wall with an obvious toilet next to it.

With nothing better to do, I stretched out on the bunk in the cell and took a power nap setting my internal alarm clock for thirty minutes. When I awoke, I could sense the minds of the same guards as when I entered and through the eyes of the Force, I could see they were at their stations watching the monitors that covered the vital areas of the ship, conversing in low tones.

I got up, stretched and dropped into a split on the floor and began to meditate. Clasping my hands together with the right and left index fingers pressing against each other, I dove into the Force to see what I could see.

Many images went through my mind. Many places as well. At first the images were too fast to track so I reviewed them the way you would use a jog and shuttle control on a VCR or DVD. I saw Star Destroyers firing on a green planet. A great space battle, attackers and defenders alike dying in fiery finality. Then the images blurred and lost coherence.

I stayed that way for a time but no more images came to me. What did were a pair of comments over the intercom in jest: "You better stop that. You might want to have kids someday." Another voice from the security office said: "That hurts me just looking at it." I couldn't contain myself any longer as I burst out in laughter. Loud, cleansing laughter.

As my laughing fit finally came to an end, I felt much better. Through the window built into the door, I saw the Sergeant who originally escorted me here and two guards came to the door, open it, and motion for me to follow them. I got up from my split and followed them. They didn't try to put binders on me and the Sergeant had my lightsaber in her hand.

We walked down the hall that had taken me away from Wedge and Jansen and to the elevator door that they had entered earlier. As we went up, I remained silent as did my three escorts. The elevator stopped and the door opened. As we entered the command deck of the ship, I only then noticed the increased humidity in the air. The Force had automatically adapted me to the climate change as I came aboard and so I hadn't noticed.

The three guards took me to a large chair on a pivot arm that fit its occupant, a Mon Calamari male if I remembered the species brief Warbler had given me correctly. His pinkish red skin stood out against his white uniform sharply as one of his eyes turned to face the four humans. In a gravelly voice the Mon Calamari in the seat said: "Report please."

The Sergeant stepped forward and said: "Security detail 7-10 reporting as ordered Captain Kraka sir. As per the General's orders, the detainee was taken to the brig and held there for three hours. At this time we are waiting for further orders from the General. His droid was taken to maintenance for a memory bank analysis at the same time as the flight deck is analyzing his ship's logs." The eye swiveled over to me as he said: "Has he said anything yet?" The Sergeant answer: "Not at this time sir."

I heard a voice from a speaker in his command console but was oblivious to anything else at the moment as that my gaze had been taken by the panoramic view of space from the windows on the command deck. Certainly, I had seen similar sights while I had been flying in my X-wing but I had been too busy finding my way and staying alive to really notice the view.

The Captain in his chair finished his talk with the voice and noticed where my eyes were and said: "No matter how many times you see the vastness of space, it still takes a sentient's breath away. The General will see you in his ready room now."

The guard detail took me into a small room just off the main bridge. The room was about the size of the security office only instead of monitors and guard stations, there were small art displays scattered about. Behind a desk was a large chair that was facing away from metowards awindow behind the desk.

The Sergeant walked around to the chair, said something in low tones that I didn't bother listening to though I could have quite easily and handed my lightsaber to the occupant of the chair. The voice I heard over the speaker on the bridge said: "Leave one guard on detail outside the door, while you and your other subordinate may return to normal duty." The Sergeant acknowledged her orders with a salute and left taking both guards with her.

Before the door closed I heard the Sergeant point to one of them and say: "Corporal Dun, you have the duty". He saluted and took a spot outside the door. The door closed as the voice said from its place in the chair that was still facing away from me said: "I can remember a time when anyone carrying a lightsaber was accorded a level of respect rivaling that of a flag officer. Back when being a Jedi actually meant something more that an instant death sentence as it does today."

The chair turned to face me. In it was an older man with graying hair and a salt and pepper beard. When he stood, he was at least a full head taller than me, I guessed between 6'5" and 6'8" and probably in his mid to late fifties. I took his measure in the Force. He radiated experience in the battlefield and his eyes carried the haunted look of someone who had seen enough blood spilled to last ten lifetimes, someone who had ordered soldiers to their deaths and would do it again.

He said: "I thought Jedi didn't believe in causes. That's what you are, isn't it? A Jedi? Or are you a fallen one trying to make amends?" I said: "Yes, I am Jedi, and I guess I am taking up a cause. While I admit to being no angel, I'm certainly not a fallen Jedi trying to make up for past mistakes."

The man said: "Words are easy. Deeds on the other hand, deeds speak louder than words." I said: "Jedi were widely regarded as keepers of the peace, soldiers second, life savers whenever possible. I saved your pilots. That has to count for something." The man smirked and said: "Blind luck is how you saved my pilots. I've reviewed your ship's logs and the memory analysis of the fight. Your flying technique is sloppy and had you truly known how to use your ship effectively, you'd have been better. That and the techs say that whatever you used for fuel was about ready to clog your fuel injectors. They are being replaced and your fuel system purged as we speak."

He continued with: "Now I'm told you want to join us, and fight for the Rebellion. While it's true we need as many pilots as we can get, you have a long way to go before you can call yourself one. That and I can't let someone go calling themself a Jedi. It brings up too many memories, good and bad of the Republic. As for the lightsaber, you are either a Jedi or a fraud with a fondness for antiques and an appallingly high opinion of his swordsmanship."

I said: "Though I dislike demonstrations, I can arrange one if you want." He said: "Actually, yes, that would be acceptable." I asked: "What did you have in mind?" He answered: "I have ever and always used training remotes for their intended purpose of training troops. Let's see what you've got." He pressed a control on his desk. A small hatch opened in one wall and three remotes came out and started to orbit his head.

I saw a mischievous glint in his eye just then as he said: "Say hello to my little friends." As the seekers came at me, I summoned my lightsaber to my hand from across the room and igniting it, began to defend myself.

I came out of my defense mode as three insistent beeps from the seekers ended the session. The man had sat back down and the seekers were orbiting his head again. With a look of genuine respect on his face he said: "You've just made a believer out of me Mr. Jayks. Welcome to the Rebel Alliance."

He stood up and offered his hand which I accepted. He said: "I apologize for the demonstration Jedi Jayks; I hope you can understand it was necessary." I nodded. "It was perfectly understandable; my droid was very thorough in his education of me on my way to this time and place." The man said: "My name is General Mallory Naz. I take it you are not from this neck of the galaxy?"

I said: "In a manner of speaking sir." He waved it off. "It is of no matter. Corporal Dun, come in please." The guard from outside stepped in and said: "Sir?" General Naz said: "Take our new member to billeting to be assigned quarters, then to Commander Antilles on the flight deck." Corporal Dun saluted and said: "Yes sir."

The Corporal led me across the command level and to the elevator and down several decks. After we got off, he took me to the billeting office where I was assigned quarters and an ID cardchip. From there, we went to the flight deck. On the way, he said: "Welcome to the Rebellion sir. I remember hearing stories of the Jedi as a child. To actually meet one is a true honor."

I looked him over; he was a year or two older than me. His uniform was immaculate. His life signature in the Force was bright yet I could sense something missing. Something he craved more than anything. As we got onto the flight deck it became clear. He wanted to fly. I said: "I'm only human, as you can see Corporal. I can't be what you heard in a story. I'm sorry. Are you in training for pilot?" There flickered for a scant second, a look of intense pain as he regained his composure and said: "I was in training once, but a lapse in judgment took that away from me."

I said: "I'm sorry Corporal; I didn't mean to bring up any painful memories." The Corporal shook off his pain and said: "Not your fault sir. I brought it on myself. He we are, this is the main briefing room for Red Group. You'll find Commander Antilles inside." He saluted me though I'm not sure why. I returned his salute in thanks and entered.

Wedge saw me coming and stepped out of his broom closet of an office. He said: "The General has already informed me. Congratulations Jedi Jayks. Welcome to the Rebellion." I smiled and said: "How about just calling me Ronin?" Wedge smiled back and said: "Only if you call me Wedge unless we're in front of the General." I said: "Deal. Now what happens to me?"

Wedge gestured me into his office and offered me a chair which I accepted. As he prepared to speak, I heard a familiar beeping and whistling. I turned to the door and said: "In here Warbler. Don't get your circuits in a feedback loop. I'm okay. What about you?"

His answer was both terse and relieved: "My first chance at an oil bath and tune up in five years and I get shuffled off to an interrogation session with a really rude protocol unit! Then to add insult to injury that two bit scrap yard excuse for a droid has the springs to call me willful and feisty and that I should be memory wiped at the next possible opportunity!"

I said: "Calm down Warbler, calm down. Did you get your oil bath and tune up like you wanted though?" Now that he had vented the worst of his anger, he said: "Eventually yes. Still though, that protocol droid needs a memory wipe more than me. He thinks he's so much better than me just because he can speak six million different languages."

I laughed again as Wedge said: "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that Ronin. So this is your droid huh?" I said: "Yes, this is Warbler. He's kind of quirky but I don't think I could have gotten here without him." Warbler blurted out: "Who's quirky?" I said: "Warbler, this is our new commanding officer, Wedge Antilles. Wedge Antilles, meet Warbler."

Wedge said: "Hello there Warbler, nice to meet you." Warbler replied: "Likewise Commander Antilles." Wedge said: "Picking up where we left off, after we get back to base, you'll go through a medical screening and then to our Officer's Program. Due to our current state of civil war, the program is only one year of formal in-the-classroom training. The rest is on-the-job-training. Upon graduation, you will be granted the rank of Flight Officer which is basically a pilot grunt. Also, here in the Rebellion, we have women in positions of rank. Do you have a problem taking orders from a woman?"

I said: "Not at all Wedge. Not at all." Wedge said: "That's good to hear. Just so you know, all officers, male, female, both or none, all go by 'sir' unless they tell you otherwise. It will be tough going for awhile. Any questions Ronin?" I said: "No sir. Not right now." Wedge stood up and said: "Very well. You are dismissed. I'll call you when we're ready to transfer to the base. Until then, you're free to roam the ship. Restricted Areas are clearly marked."

I saluted him, which he returned in kind, spun on my heel and left his office.