Kyle Katarn: The Rise & Fall
Book 1: Rise of a Hero
Chapter 5: Revelations
Authors Note: Whew! Things got a little hot in the last chapter, didn't they? But our heroes are now safely on their way. Or are they? Read on.
Suddenly, the comm unit speaker crackled. "... is oldy Cr... Leader. ... in please."
"Wait a minute, Gold 6, " said Gold Leader, "I think I'm getting a response. Unidentified ship, say again, your transmission not received. Repeat, say again."
The speaker crackled again, issuing nothing more than static at first. Then a voice came in clear.
"Repeat; this is Moldy Crow to Gold Leader. Please come in."
Gold Leader recognized the name of the ship as one mentioned in his briefing earlier. The ship was on special assignment under the personal command of Mon Mothma.
"Gold Leader to Moldy Crow, why aren't you broadcasting a recognition signal?
"We took some fire while on our mission, Gold Leader. Our transmitter was damaged, we're limited to short range communication and our recognition signal is offline.
It sounded believable, thought Gold Leader, but it could still be a trick. "Affirmative, Moldy Crow, confirm recognition code phrase."
"The Republic shall rise again."
Gold Leader sighed in relief and relaxed his grip on the controls. "Code phrase received and acknowledged. Gold 6 stand down and return to escort position. Moldy Crow, you're cleared to dock with New Hope.
"Thanks, Gold Leader," said Jan, "clear skies." She watched as the two Y-Wings peeled away and moved back towards the cruiser. "How are you doing back there, Kyle?" Jan called.
"I'll make it," Kyle said, his voice betraying the pain he was feeling.
"Hang on," she replied, "I'll have you to the medical bay before you know it.
Pointing the Moldy Crow directly at the hangar bay, Jan hit the thrusters hard, rocketing towards the New Hope.
New Hope docking bay
In the hangar bay control room, the Quarren Puan Gell couldn't believe what he was saying. The ship just cleared by the Y-Wing patrol was coming towards the hangar bay at a suicidal speed. He frantically jabbed at the comm.
"Incoming ship! This is hangar control! Slow your approach! You're coming in too fast!"
There was no reply from the ship nor did it slow. Puan reached for the alarm button just as the ship tore through hangar bay force field. Expecting it to keep going and crash against the far wall, Puan threw his hands over his tentacled face and dropped down, hoping to find cover from the explosion. But when it came, the explosion sounded strange. Puan waited a moment and when no crash alarms sounded, curiosity overcame him and he stood, glancing out the control room view port. What he saw caused the Quarren's tentacles to tremble in surprise.
Braking thrusters screaming, the Moldy Crow slowed, then came to a relative stop above the hangar floor. The roar of the thrusters died away as the repulsors came on and the ship descended carefully to a landing spot. Puan Gell left the control room at a run. He was going to tell this pilot off. How dare he endanger the safety of the New Hope and its crew? Reaching the ship, Puan drew in a breath to speak when the cockpit opened and a lithe figure vaulted out, landing on the ground in front of him. Puan recognized the figure as a human female. She wore a tan pilot's suit, the belt of which was clustered with various devices. On her head sat of pair of goggles, framing brown hair which cascaded down, stopping just above her shoulders.
"Listen," Puan began, "you can't just..." But the female cut him off. "No time!" she said, waving an arm to indicate the ship behind her, voice as firm as it was frantic, "my partner is injured. I need to get him to the medical bay right now!"
Puan anger's turned to confusion. "But..." he began. With a sigh of disgust, the female pushed past him and ran for the control room. Puan ran after her, still confused, but determined to find out what was happening.
Jan rushed into the room. Finding the comm panel, she keyed on the bay loudspeaker and yelled, "Medical emergency in the docking bay! Repeat, medical emergency in the docking bay!" That done Jan turned and ran out of the room knocking the Quarren out of the way once again. Puan was feeling a mix of confusion and anger now. Twice this woman had pushed past him for no reason, executed a dangerous approach, commandeered his controls and had broadcasted an unauthorized transmission. He ran after the woman yet again.
As Jan reached the ship, she slowed, glancing about frantically for someone to respond to her message. A blow to her back caused her to stumble forward as the Quarren, unable to slow his pursuit quickly enough, crashed into her.
"All right, this is quite enough!" roared Puan, grabbing the woman's arm, "Explain what you're doing here and why you feel the need to go rushing about my docking bay!"
Jan shook her arm free and fixed the Quarren with an icy stare. "I already explained it to you," she growled in frustration, pointing to the Moldy Crow. "My partner has been wounded and needs medical attention right away."
"I see no one else," said Puan, "what are you talking about?"
In response, Jan grabbed the Quarren's hand and pulled him towards the ship. Approaching the cockpit, Jan let go of the Quarren and pointed, "Look!" Puan grasped the lip of the cockpit and pulled himself up so he could see inside.
Puan's confusion disappeared in an instant. There in the rear cockpit sat another human, this one a male. He could see the man was wounded and in pain. Puan turned to meet Jan's fierce gaze, then turned and ran for the control room. Reaching the room, he switched the comm to internal frequencies and called both security and the medical bay.
He emerged from the room only long enough to shout to Jan, "Help is on the way!" Seconds later, a medical team followed by two security officers came into the docking bay at a run. Jan directed them to the ship. As the security officers approached, Jan recognized them as the ones who had "escorted" Kyle to Mon Mothma
The bigger of the two recognized the figure in the rear cockpit. "What happened to him?" the man said sarcastically, "he slip and fall again?"
Jan turned a look of pure anger on him. "Listen, you piece of slime! That's my partner lying wounded in there! You will get him out of that cockpit and make sure he gets to the med bay right now or I will personally rip your head off and hand it you! You got me!"
Although the man was several inches taller and many pounds heavier than Jan, he backed off. "Yes ma'am," he said, "right away."
With the help of the security men, the med techs carefully extracted Kyle from the cockpit and placed him on a hovering stretcher. They dashed from the docking bay. Jan was about to follow when she noticed the Quarren standing outside the control room, observing the scene.
Dashing over, Jan grabbed one of his flippered hands in both of hers. "Thank you," she said, smiling at Puan. The Quarren shook his head, "No thanks are needed. I should have reasoned what was happening sooner. Go, and make sure your partner is okay. I'll take care of your ship." Jan smiled at Puan in genuine gratitude, then ran out of the bay.
Several hours later
Mon Mothma's briefing room aboard the New Hope
The door whooshed open and Jan, leading a limping Kyle Katarn, stepped in. Her right arm was looped through the crook of Kyle's left elbow, supporting him as the pair made their way to the table and took seats.
"How are you feeling, Kyle?" asked Mon Mothma, giving him a concerned look.
"Much better," he said, "the leg's still a bit numb." Indicating Jan with a nod of his head, "That's why the escort."
Mon Mothma smiled, but Jan looked at him with a very serious expression. "Dr. Berth said you're still healing. There's only so much bacta can do. And since you wouldn't take the cane..."
She indicated the silvery object she held.
"Jan, please," Kyle said, "I'm not some crippled old man."
"Just the same..." she began, but Mon Mothma cut her off.
"May I make a suggestion?" They looked at her. "Surrender gracefully, Kyle," she said, "There's no way you're going to win."
Kyle stared at both women for a moment, then blew out a breath of resignation. "Okay." This set both women to laughing.
When they had finished, Mon Mothma cleared her throat, "Now to business. I've read the mission report and want to congratulate you both. You faced unexpected challenges, but overcame the obstacles and returned safely. And because of your efforts, we know have the construction plans to the Death Star." Jan and Kyle looked at each other, each sporting smiles of victory. Mon Mothma continued, "Kyle, you performed beyond my expectations, especially for a first time field operative. I can see now that that I made the right decision in having you join us."
His smile faded.
"What do you mean you can see it now?"
"Mon Mothma…" Jan started to say.
The older woman held up a hand. "He deserves to know."
"Know what?" Kyle said, anger creeping into his voice. His eyes rested on Jan briefly. But when she dropped her gaze, he focused on Mon Mothma. "What exactly is going on here?"
"There is no easy way to say this, Kyle. I had doubts about your defection to our side and needed to know if I could truly trust you."
The anger on Kyle's face was replaced with shock and surprise. "Then, all this," he said, sweeping his hands about the room, "the Danuta mission. They were nothing more than a test of what? Loyalty?"
"Not completely true," Mon Mothma replied, "I did use the Danuta mission to test your loyalty. But the objective and goals were real. You have done a great service to the Alliance."
Kyle rose to his feet, using the table to support himself. "And that's supposed to make me feel better?" His eyes were smoldering. "Why should I even care about your 'Alliance'? You used me."
"Yes, I did," Mon Mothma said plainly.
Kyle turned his eyes on Jan.
"Did you know about this too?"
She nodded, but wouldn't meet his gaze.
"Great," he said, "just great. I don't know what I was thinking when I asked to come with you, Jan. You're no better than she is." He indicated Mon Mothma.
With an effort, Jan turned her face to look up at him. "I'm sorry, Kyle."
"You're sorry? Is that supposed to make up for what you've done to me? You two wouldn't trust me, you lied to me. And if that wasn't enough, you sent me on a mission when I nearly got killed. How am I supposed to believe anything either of you has to say?"
"It was necessary, Kyle." Mon Mothma said.
"Oh really? And what if I had died on Danuta?"
Neither woman answered him.
"I see," he said coldly. "You know, I was wrong about you. You're no better than the Empire. In fact, you're worse."
"Kyle," Jan said, reaching a hand out to him, "I…"
Grabbing the cane, Kyle lurched back from the table, standing up.
"Don't touch me! Don't you even dare! You pretended to be my friend; you pretended to care. And all this time it was a lie! And that tape! Let me ask you this, Jan. Is my father really dead?"
Jan's looked of shocked horror instantly told Kyle he had gone too far. But, at the moment, he didn't care. I've got to get out of here, he thought.
Grunting with the effort of putting weight on his still numb leg, Kyle made his way towards the briefing room door.
"Kyle!" Mon Mothma called.
He halted, squared his shoulders and turned to face her. His face was a mask of anger.
"If you believe nothing else I ever say, then believe this. What I did was for the good of the Alliance. It was not personal."
Face conveying the disbelief he felt, Kyle turned back around and made his way through the doors.
No sooner had the doors closed than Jan smashed a fist into the table.
"I know," Mon Mothma said, "but it had to be done."
"Where will he go?" Jan said, her face a mixture of anger and pain, "What we will do?"
"He can't leave the ship in his condition, and I don't want to send Security after him. I'm afraid we'll just have to wait and see."
Kyle stalked the corridors of the New Hope, turning at random, not seeing where he was going. His mind was in chaos, pain and anger warring in his mind for control.
I can't believe they did this! I could have been killed on Danuta, and for what? Just to pass some ridiculous test of loyalty? How am I supposed to ever trust Mon Mothma again? And Jan, she was part of it. Has everything she's said to me a lie? What am I going to do? I can't go back to the Empire, but I'm wondering if the Rebellion is any better. Coming around another corner, Kyle had to stop short, nearly colliding with a person coming the other way. He was about to excuse himself when he caught sight of the other person. It was that same guard who had "helped" him to his first briefing with Mon Mothma.
"Well, well, well," the guard said, a savage smile coming to his face, "look who I've found wandering the halls."
Kyle was in no mood for this. "Get out of my way."
"And what if I don't?"
The challenge was all Kyle needed to hear. Red anger boiled inside him. He wasn't going to take any more from anyone. "Then I guess we do it right here."
"I'd like that," the guard said, eyeing the cane, "but it seems you're in no shape to fight."
With a sudden movement, Kyle cast the cane away. "How about now?"
The guard's smile widened. "Okay, but not here. Follow me."
With the guard leading, Kyle made his way down another set of corridors ending at a door marked "Gymnasium".
"We won't be disturbed in here," the guard said.
"Good," Kyle replied, following the guard inside.
The gym turned out to be quite impressive. The ceiling here was at least fifteen feet high and was nearly as long as it was tall. Looks like it must take up on whole side of the ship, Kyle thought.
The room's width allowed for several pieces of exercise equipment, a track as well as a number of exercise mats. He followed the guard over to one.
Stepping away from Kyle, the guard went to the far side of the mat. Unbuckling his weapons belt, he placed it on the floor. Next came his shirt. Kyle swallowed as he view the man's physique. There didn't seem to be an ounce of fat on him. Muscles flexed and bunched as the guard finished removing his shoes, turning back to face Kyle.
"You gonna stand there? Or are we gonna do this?"
Removing his own shirt and belt, Kyle sat down on the mat to remove his shoes. As he rose to his feet, he felt a twinge from his left leg. Gonna have to be careful with it, he thought.
He faced the guard. "Let's go."
The men began to circle each other, hands held out, waiting for other to make the first move. The guard moved first, coming at Kyle with hands outstretched. He ducked the man's charge, and dashed forward to get some distance between them again.
They circled again. The guard charged again. This time, as he ducked, Kyle dropped to one knee and fired a fist straight out, catching the man in his stomach. The man let out a "whoof" as air exploded out of him. Pain flared in Kyle's hand. It felt as if he punched solid duracrete.
Rising, Kyle began to turn around just as a foot crashed into his chest. The impact threw him back, dropping to the mat. His chest was on fire. Somehow, the guard had pivoted and struck out at Kyle before he could turn. The men backed away from each other again, sweat beginning to trickle across their bodies.
This time, it was Kyle who initiated the assault. He came at the guard, fists shooting for a head shot. The guard raised his hands to fend of the blow. But, to his surprise, the first attack had been a feint. Putting all his weight onto the right, foot, Kyle spun, smashing his left foot into the guard's chest. The man staggered backwards, grimacing.
But it was worse for Kyle. Pain exploded in his leg as he struck the guard, the weakened limb not up to what he was putting it through. He backed away, limping. The guard too, looked a bit weakened. But he was clearly not done. He charged Kyle yet again. Letting the weakened leg fold up underneath him, Kyle fell to the left, trying to dodge. The leg protested, sending fresh waves of pain to his brain. The roll was a sloppy one, and as Kyle tried to rise to his feet, the guard managed to throw a low kick, striking him right in the face.
There was an audible snap as Kyle's nose broke and blood flooded from his nostrils. Crying out, he fell back onto the mat, pain everywhere. Eyes closed as he fought the pain, Kyle heard the guard approach him, breathing heavily. Part of him feared what was coming next. He was the man's mercy. So it surprised him all the more when the guard spoke.
"Not bad, Imperial, not bad at all. You can fight. It's just too bad I'm better."
A red haze came across Kyle's vision, fresh strength flooding his body. Opening his eyes, he saw the guard standing over him, legs spread to balance himself.
"Maybe," Kyle managed to say through gritted teeth. "But not today."
With every last bit of his reserves, Kyle fired his right leg upwards, directly into the man's scrotum. The guard let out a cry, reaching down to the wounded spot even as his knees buckled and he crashed to the mat.
A smile came to Kyle's face even as the pain wracked his body. Nearby, the guard held himself as he rocked from side to side. He tried to speak, but could only manage a sound not unlike a squeak.
They lay there for some time, unable to move. In time, Kyle's pain subsided enough that he was able to roll onto his side and sit up. The guard still lay on the mat, eyes open. Studying the ceiling, Kyle guessed.
Catching sight of Kyle, the guard's eyes met his.
"Jeez, that hurt. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"The Imperial Academy," Kyle replied, even as he wondered why he was doing so. He shrugged. After a fight, the least he could do was answer the man's questions. "Our instructors taught a number of self defense and attack moves. But they always reminded that, when in a jam, fight dirty."
The guard chuckled, grimacing in pain as the laughter shook his body.
"Let me ask you something," Kyle said, "what is your problem with me anyway?"
"You're an Imperial."
"Former Imperial," Kyle corrected.
"Yeah, that's what I've been told. But I've seen a couple guys who claimed to be former Imperials turn out to be traitors."
"Really?" Kyle asked.
"Yeah, I've lost some good friends because of 'em."
"I see," Kyle replied, beginning to understand.
"What's your name anyway?" the guard asked.
"Kyle. Kyle Katarn."
"Well, you're quite the fighter, Kyle Katarn. My name is Bastro Thellen."
"You're pretty good yourself," Kyle said, "and for a big guy, you're really fast."
A smile crossed Bastro's face. "I had a good teacher, he… Wait a minute!
Despite the discomfort it caused, Bastro sat up and faced Kyle. "You said your name was Katarn?"
Kyle nodded.
"You wouldn't be related to Morgan Katarn?"
Kyle's eyes widened in surprise.
"He was my father. You knew him?"
"Not personally, but I've heard of him. He was the head of Rebel cell group on Sulon."
"Excuse me?" Kyle said, incredulous, "my father was part of the Rebellion? He always told me he wanted nothing to do with either the Empire or the Alliance."
"That was part of his cover. When your father became part of the Rebellion, he became a target for the Empire as well. He probably didn't want to involve you in what he was doing."
Kyle nodded.
"That makes sense. When I received my appointment to the Academy, Father said that I should focus on getting an education more than anything else."
"Well, I'll be... Morgan Katarn's kid. What took you so long to join up with the Rebellion?"
"Eighteen years of Imperial indoctrination and lies isn't exactly easy to overcome, you know."
"So how did you get here?"
Kyle's face twisted in anger as he remembered what had brought him to the New Hope. "Jan Ors, "he said coldly, "She showed me a video of Sulon being attacked by Imperial troops. My father was killed by them. Although, I'm starting to wonder if that's even true."
"What do you mean?"
"It's a long story."
"I don't have anywhere to go. You?"
"I suppose not," Kyle admitted.
"So tell me," Bastro pressed.
"Okay." Taking a deep breath, Kyle began, telling Bastro of his encounter with Jan on the asteroid and later, on the Queen of Empire and their subsequent escape from the starliner.
"You and I met shortly after that."
"Oh yeah," Bastro said.
Kyle continued, telling Bastro of the mission to Danuta, omitting the part about the strange voice in his head. "Then, when Jan and I returned, I found out the whole thing was some ridiculous test of loyalty. Mon Mothma wanted to see whether she could trust me or, and Jan was part of it."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. And now I don't know what to do. I can't go back to the Empire. And I don't know how Mon Mothma expects me to trust her after this."
"Don't be so sure about that."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you oughta think about this some more."
"What's there to think about?" Kyle growled, "She used me, just to serve her own ends."
"You know, " Bastro said, his face going hard, "if I wasn't hurting right now, I'd deck you for saying that."
"You could try."
"Listen to me," Bastro said, "Mon Mothma has done more and risked more for the Rebellion than anyone. She's a hero."
"Some hero."
"Shut up for a second, will you?" Bastro said, holding up a hand.
"Fine, go ahead. I won't interrupt."
"About six months ago, one of our recon Y-Wings picked up a damaged ship. It turned out to be a TIE fighter. Its solar panels were nearly shot away and the cockpit area was severely damaged. The pilot of the Y-Wing secure the TIE with a tractor beam and brought it back to the New Hope. The pilot, after we extricated him from the cockpit, informed us that he wanted to defect to the Alliance. He went on to explain that he had served as first officer aboard a Star Destroyer and had decided to leave after his captain had blown up a freighter full of civilians trying to escape from a world under Imperial attack.
"Sounds like quite a guy," Kyle said.
"That's what we thought," said Bastro, "After he had helped us plan a number of successful raids, Mon Mothma made him her personal aide. Turns out that's exactly what he was waiting for. They were in the briefing room when the guy pulled a blaster and tried to kidnap Mon Mothma. He used her as a human shield as they headed for the hangar bay. If it wasn't for a squad that got there just before the traitor did, Mon Mothma would have been taken, probably killed."
Kyle's eyes grew wide.
"I had no idea."
"No, you didn't. After that, Mon Mothma kept everyone on the ship at arm's length for quite a while. She hasn't had an aide since. So maybe you can understand that even though you're Morgan Katarn's kid, she's still suspicious."
"I can see why."
"As for your mission, I imagine she sent you there for more than a test of loyalty."
"Well, yeah," Kyle admitted, "that's true."
"It wasn't personal, Kyle. I think Mon Mothma is afraid to trust anyone."
"She did say that she did it for the good of the Rebellion."
"There's your reason," Bastro said, "Do you have any idea how hard it's been fighting against the Empire! They've got more men, more ships and more equipment. We need all the help we can get, but we have to try to ferret out traitors before they can hurt us."
"But suppose I had been killed on Danuta?"
"Then, we'd have another dead hero to mourn. Also I wouldn't be lying here now."
Both men laughed.
"Listen, Kyle. I know what Mon Mothma did to you wasn't right or fair. But it was necessary."
"I suppose."
"Suppose all you want. But try to give her a chance before you walk away. In the meantime, I think you and I should head for sickbay."
Kyle nodded and, with Bastro's help, rose to his feet. With the bigger man supporting him, they left the gym.
"Wait a minute," Kyle said as he half-walked, half-limped, "how are we going to explain this?"
"We'll say you fell, and so did I when I tried to help you."
Kyle let out a laugh, then grimaced, feeling fresh pain.
"Ow. Hey, Bastro?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time, do me a favor and don't help."
That sat the men to laughing and together, they made their way to sickbay.