Kyle Katarn: The Rise & Fall
Book 1: Rise of a Hero
Chapter 11: The Morning After
Author's Note: Yikes! Things started so well last time, but Kyle went a bit nuts. And on top of nearly killing Rebus, he tried to justify his actions to Jan, who was having none of it. And while an encounter with Glef has helped our young hero see things more clearly, Jan's still mad at him and now he has to face Mon Mothma. Not good!
When he arrived at the entrance to the briefing room, Kyle paused a moment before entering. What would Mon Mothma say? Would she have him arrested? He shook his head at that thought. If she was going to do that, he'd already be in the brig. Let's get this over with, he thought. Taking a deep breath, he touched the door chime.
"Enter".
The doors parted and Kyle stepped inside. Mon Mothma gestured he should join her at the table and he complied. But as he approached the table, Kyle did not sit down. Instead, he came to stiff attention, arms at his sides, trying to look anywhere but at Mon Mothma.
"Kyle," she began, her tone confirming that he was indeed in trouble. "I heard about your little stunt yesterday. And while I'm not ungrateful for the result, what you did was reckless and dangerous."
She paused a moment to see if Kyle would respond. When he didn't, she continued. "Consider yourself fortunate that Rebus survived without being hurt. If he had died, I'd have you up on charges of murder."
Again, he said nothing. "I wonder if I can trust you, Kyle. Your word doesn't seem to be worth much." He fought not to react. Her words hurt, but Kyle knew he deserved them. "I should have you thrown in the brig. But I'm not going to."
The surprise was so complete; Kyle couldn't help but let it show on his face. "I know that your training as an Imperial is deeply ingrained and that it is difficult to not make use of it when you feel the situation warrants it."
He looked at Mon Mothma. In her eyes he could see she did understand. "However, that does not excuse what you did. As I've said, you've damaged my trust in you. So, before we go any further, understand this. I'm giving you one more chance, but this is it. If something like this happens again, then may heaven help you, because I won't. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said firmly. "Good," answered Mon Mothma. "Now, take a seat. We have things to discuss." "You mean…" he said, feeling unsure. "You're still one of my operatives, aren't you?" Mon Mothma asked. "Yes, ma'am, " he answered. "Then, sit down," she said.
Fighting a smile, Kyle said down as Mon Mothma activated the holoprojector. The image it displayed was the interrogation room, showing Rebus talking. "You shoulda seen the designs I had on Fest," the weapons dealer said, smiling, "some of the best stuff I've done."
"Would there still be anything there?" Plasdan voice sounded from off camera. "Well," Rebus said, thinking for a moment, "the dang Imperials took mosta my designs and kicked me off planet, so maybe, maybe not."
"Why'd they kick you off planet?" Plasdan asked.
Rebus chuckled. "Ahhh, there was this one small 'accident' where I managed to blow up the lab. But it wasn't my fault."
"Uh-huh," Plasdan said, not sounding convinced. "You're sure there's nothing there?"
"Well," said Rebus, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "Fest is the only place where you can get Phirk metal."
"Phirk metal?" Plasdan asked.
"Yeah," Rebus answered, excitement in his voice. "Phirk is a real strong metal, excellent for weapons casings. The Imperials have to go to Fest to mine it."
With that, the image faded. "Phirk metal?" Kyle mused, "I never heard of such a material." "Neither have we," Mon Mothma said, "which is why I want you to go to Fest and obtain a sample of the metal." "Another Imperial base," Kyle said, frowning. "Yes," said Mon Mothma, "but you do have an advantage this time."
Mon Mothma keyed up another image on the holoprojector, showing a view of the planet Fest. The image zoomed in until they could see the terrain of the planet.
"As you can see," Mon Mothma said, pointing, "Fest is riddled with a number of mountains, valleys and cliffs, including numerous ledges. Tactical believes your best chance is to land here." Mon Mothma pointed to a small clearing surrounded by jagged rock formations. "Then, make your way into the base on foot." "I see," Kyle said, "then I'll signal Jan for pickup."
"I'm afraid not," Mon Mothma said. "What?" Kyle said, surprised. "I have Jan working on obtaining information about an Imperial processing plant on one of Fest's moons."
"You want me to go solo?" Kyle said incredulously. "No," Mon Mothma said sternly, "absolutely not. You have to have backup. That's another thing we need to discuss; a replacement mission officer."
Mon Mothma's words struck Kyle. A replacement? Did this mean Jan was unwilling to serve as his mission officer? He regretted even more the words he had said to her. "I have a number of personnel who would be capable of performing this duty. I think your best choice would be…"
"If I may," Kyle said, interrupting, "I have a person in mind." "Really?" Mon Mothma said, surprised. "Who?" "Bastro Thellen," Kyle said.
"Bastro Thellen?" Mon Mothma echoed in surprise and disbelief. He nodded. "I'm not sure I understand your choice, Kyle. Bastro is a security guard, a good one to be sure. But he's never shown any interest in tactical operations."
"True, but what I need is someone who can be tough under fire and follow orders. Bastro showed me both when I came aboard." Kyle said no more, but Mon Mothma could sense he was holding something back.
"Is there any other reason why you've chosen him?" "Well, I…" Kyle began, but seeing the look on Mon Mothma's face, he spoke plainly. "Yesterday, after what happened, Bastro was there for me."
Mon Mothma thought for a long moment. "All right, Kyle, I'll allow this even though I disagree with your decision. Bastro has never been in battle before, and his field experience is limited to his duties aboard the New Hope. If he freezes or can't handle things during the mission, you could find yourself with a whole new set of problems."
Kyle said nothing, only nodded. Sighing, Mon Mothma said, "All right then, go get prepped for your mission. I'll have Bastro meet you in the hangar bay." Without another word, he turned and left the briefing room.
When he arrived at the hangar, Kyle spied Bastro standing by the Moldy Crow. "You sure got here fast," Kyle said, approaching the man. "I made a beeline here as soon I got the word," Bastro returned, his grin ear to ear.
"Kyle, how can I thank you for this?" the security guard said, extending his hand. Kyle took it and said, "You were there for me yesterday. I figured I owed you. Besides I need some backup on this mission and with my current mission officer unavailable, you're it. C'mon, let's get aboard and I'll brief you."
With Kyle following, Bastro clambered aboard the Moldy Crow, taking a seat in the rear cockpit. "You ever fly one of these before?" Kyle asked. "I've got over 1000 hours of simulator time in a Corellian YT-1300," Bastro answered.
"Well," Kyle said, "the Crow is a lot different. She turns a lot sharper than the standard YT-1300 even though the top speed is slightly less. Also, her repulsors are kinda quirky, so make sure you watch the power balance." "Got it," Bastro said.
"Okay, then," Kyle answered, hoping Bastro could handle the ship, "then power up the engines and let's get going." Kyle made a last review of his equipment, keeping a watchful eye as Bastro activated the repulsors and engines.
As they lifted off, the left wing dipped precipitously, the port repulsors losing power. Kyle was about to shout a warning when he heard the repulsors' him grow louder. The ship leveled out and Bastro scaled back the power to the port repulsors.
"Nice job," he called. "Thanks," Bastro said. After radioing for and receiving departure clearance, Bastro fed power to the engines, guiding the Crow forward, clearing the force field and rocketing into space.
"Okay," Kyle said, "set on course for the Planet Fest." Bastro complied and fed the coordinates into the computer. Minutes later; calculations finished, the Crow jumped into hyperspace.
Kyle spent most of the journey going over the plan with Bastro, explaining where he wanted to land and how the mission would proceed from there. Bastro nodded as Kyle told him that he had to remain with the ship until Kyle signaled him for pickup.
"And then, get yourself over to where I am fast." "Right," Bastro answered. Kyle went over with him again until Bastro was able to repeat the plan back to him. "Okay then, I guess we're ready."
Forty-five minutes laterSpace around Planet Fest
The Moldy Crow left hyperspace and Bastro angled the ship towards the planet. As they penetrated the atmosphere, both men could see clearly that this was not going to be easy. Jagged rock peaks covered the planet as far as the eye could see. A mottled gray sky only added to the dismal colors of the terrain. A few plateaus and valleys were visible, but there was no sign of any vegetation or wildlife.
"Nice place," Bastro mused.
"Yeah, definitely looked better in the brochure" Kyle said; and then having spotted what he was looking for, pointed. "There's the clearing. Take us in."
Bastro brought the Crow down through the clouds and between two crags, settling the ship to one side of the plateau. Kyle had the canopy open and had scrambled out in a few seconds. Looking up to Bastro he said, "Now remember, stay here until I signal you, then come as fast as you can."
With a wave, Bastro said, "I'll be there!"
The canopy closed and with a last look at the ship, Kyle moved towards the edge of the plateau, looking for the path intelligence had said should lead him to the Imperial base. He found it, but saw immediately that he'd have to watch his footing. The path was narrow, and parts of it were completely open. If he fell… No, Kyle said to himself, don't think about that. If I worry about falling, then I will.
Steeling himself, Kyle began to traverse the path carefully. Nearing the first area where there was no rock to hold onto, he concentrated on the center of the path. He began to step across, forcing himself to look down and ahead. He was nearly across to where a jagged formation would give a handhold when a blast of wind came through.
Kyle felt it ruffle his jacket, but just as quickly realized the wind was increasing in velocity, bouncing off the rocks as it approached him. He made himself walk just a bit faster and was able to grab onto some nearby rocks as a blast of wind hit him. It pushed his hair back from his face and pressed against him. He realized that had still been in the open area, the wind would have likely pushed him off. And the drop, from what he could see, was over ten meters.
Just as quickly as it had come, the wind died down and the area quieted. Kyle realized he would have to be very cautious. Without any trees or other flora to alert him to it, the wind could be upon him suddenly, without warning. He continued down the path, coming to a set of stones arranged roughly like a staircase. He began to climb up, making sure to keep one hand in contact with the rock to help his balance.
Reaching the top of the stone staircase, the path ended. Kyle cast about for a moment, then spied another path across the way. Unfortunately, the intervening space was a gap nearly a meter wide. Like the open area he had just come from, the drop was quite long. It's like Anoat City all over again, he mused. But, he had to continue. Stepping back to the last stone step, Kyle braced himself and ran for the gap, pushing off just as his feet touched the ledge.
Kyle sailed across the gap, but unlike Anoat City, his feet touched down on solid rock and he brought himself to a stop without slipping. The path went down another stone staircase and he followed it, reaching a flat plain that narrowed to a point and another gap, this one a bit shorter than the last.
Having more room to get started, Kyle jogged towards the gap, increasing his pace until he was running as he neared the point. Just as he vaulted into the air, the treacherous wind came up and blasted into him. He felt himself being pushed to the side, away from the safe landing on the other side and into the open space leading to a deep canyon. He tried to turn himself, to move back the other way, but the wind was too strong.
Kyle watched his feet, until now directly over the rock of the other flat plain, go into the open space. Just then, the wind stopped blowing and he began to fall. Thinking fast, Kyle stretched himself out, hands thrust out, fingers extended, hoping to catch something, anything. The rock ledge came closer and closer as he plummeted towards it.
Just when it he seemed he might miss the ledge completely, Kyle's right hand struck the flat face of the rock. He instinctively dug in as the sudden stop in his fall slammed his body against the rock wall. The shock was incredible, driving his breath from his lungs. He focused his mind on one thing, holding onto the rock.
But the surface he clung to was windswept and smoothed from years of the abrasive wind, providing little to hold onto. Kyle felt his hand begin to slip. Concentrating, he put all his strength into one last attempt to hold on. But it wasn't enough. Kyle's hand slipped free and he was falling again.
His hope all but gone, a sudden realization came to Kyle. Before leaving the New Hope, Bastro had suggested adding one more tool to his arsenal, a grapnel. Reaching down to his belt, he pulled the device free. Holding it in both hands, Kyle aimed for the fast disappearing ledge and pulled the trigger.
The grapnel bucked, the charge blasting the grappling hook free and sending it sailing upwards. Kyle watched it describe an arc and felt fresh hope as the hook disappeared from sight as it passed the ledge. Realizing what might be coming, he got a stronger grip on the grapnel, bracing himself.
The hook arced over the ledge, its energy expended. It fell to the smooth rock, edged tines digging in and finding purchase. Below, Kyle screwed his eyes shut and cried out in pain as he jerked to a stop, telling himself to hold on to the grapnel no matter what. After what seemed like forever, the pain in his arms subsided enough that he was able to open his eyes and survey his situation. He still had a hold of the grapnel, fingers white with the strain he was putting on them. The rope vibrated slightly and Kyle could the feel the motion as the rope swung back and forth.
Trying to remember where the button was, he felt with one finger until he encountered it. Pressing the button, Kyle heard the motor inside the grapnel start up, coiling the rope on an internal spindle. Kyle felt his body begin to rise as the grapnel pulled him upwards. His arms, already aching from the shock of the stop began to hurt more. But he was determined to not let go. The grapnel motor ground and whined as it drew him higher and higher.
As he neared the top of the ledge, Kyle considered what he had to do next. The grapnel, while strong enough to pull him up would probably not pull him over the ledge. He had to find some way to do that.
The grapnel drew him closer until the housing encountered the rock facing. The motor shut down, leaving Kyle less than a foot from the top of the ledge. There's only way, he thought, I just hope I can do it. Gathering himself, Kyle pulled on the trigger housing, boosting himself higher. As his body rose, Kyle pulled one hand free and reached for the rope, but missed. He started to drop back down and quickly returned his grip to the trigger housing.
The ache in his arms was getting worse. Can't hold on much longer, he thought. It was then that Kyle thought of the communicator strapped to his belt. But to get it meant letting go of the grapnel. And if he did that, Kyle feared he might not have the strength to hold on with one hand long enough to call Bastro.
Got to try again, he thought. Drawing in a breath, he let it out loudly as he pulled himself upwards once more and reached for the rope. A rush of adrenaline washed through him as his hand made contact with the rope. It gave him the energy to reach with his other hand and get a two-handed grip on the rope. The change in position brought some relief to his arms. Still riding the adrenaline rush, Kyle began to pull himself, hand over hand, up the rope.
As his hand made contact with the rock ledge, Kyle grasped it with one hand while keeping the rope firmly in the other. He slowly pulled himself up the rest of the way. As his chest came over the ledge, he leaned forward, letting his mass hold him to the spot. After giving his pain-wracked arms a brief respite, Kyle began to kick, using the motion to push himself all the way over the ledge. Just ahead, he could see the hook, its tines dug firmly into the rock.
Grasping it firmly in one hand, Kyle let himself relax for a few minutes, the shock of the nearly fatal fall washing over him. When he felt he could safely stand, Kyle let go of the hook and rose, taking a moment to glance over the edge at the drop. Shaking his head, he pulled the hook free of the rock and coiled the remaining rope. He might need the grapnel again and wanted it to be ready. After checking his gear and finding it in all in place, he walked across the plateau and followed the path as it dropped down further.
As he proceeded down, Kyle caught sight of a glint of black metal between two rocks ahead and above him. But as he got closer, he was unable to see anything except the rocks. He was ready to pass it off as hopeful imagining when he came around a corner and there was the Imperial base.
Ducking back behind the rock he had just passed, Kyle leaned just enough to confirm that it was indeed the base. Taking a pair of macrobinoculars from his belt, he took a closer look. Black metal gleamed dully in the low light of Fest. There were no stormtroopers visible. In fact, he couldn't see any activity around the base. Zooming in, he studied the base superstructure.
The walls were solid, with so sign of entry. So how am I supposed to get in? Could Rebus have been wrong? Or maybe he had been lying. Turning the gaze of the macros upwards, Kyle followed the lines of black metal until he could see the top of the base. He swept right, then left and that's when he spotted it.
Near the very top of the base, a hatchway was visible, with a bridge that extended out onto a jutting piece of rock. So, that's the way in, he thought. But how do I get up there? Realizing that finding a path would take too long, Kyle brought out the grapnel. Sighting in on the bridge, he pulled the trigger.
The device bucked in his hands as the grappling hook blasted out of the housing, arcing upwards. He watched it go, hoping it would clear the bridge. As the momentum of the hook begin to ebb, it slowed its flight, then began to fall. Kyle watched as the hook struck the bridge with a resounding clang, then slid off the opposite side, dragging the rope with it.
Kyle pressed the "Retract" button and the hook was pulled upwards until it came into contact with the bridge. Tines dug in and Kyle pulled on the rope to make sure the hold was secure. Pressing the button again, he held on tight as the mechanism pulled him up.
As he neared the bridge, Kyle was prepared himself to swing onto the bridge, but found it unnecessary as the grapnel pulled itself and him up onto the bridge. Rising to his knees, he reached across and freed the hook. That done he surveyed the area. Aside from the wind whistling through the canyons of rock, he heard nothing else.
He walked across the bridge to the hatchway, finding an access panel. Prepared to try and fool the mechanism with a false code, Kyle was surprised to have the door slide open as the touched the panel.
Well, he thought, stepping inside, real hospitable types. Drawing his gun from the holster, Kyle checked the charge and began walking down a corridor. Where were the guards? Imperials weren't usually this careless. At the end of the corridor, a lift stood open and waiting. Next to it was a placard identifying the base and specifying what each floor contained. He found, "materials storage," on the bottom level. Entering the lift, Kyle pressed the appropriate control. The door slid shut and the lift began to descend.
This is too easy, he thought, checking his weapon again. Way too easy. The lift began to slow, then stopped, the door sliding open. He stuck his head out and found the area empty; the only sound the beeps and hum of computer equipment.
His weapon at the ready, Kyle stepped into the room, noticing a circular shaft at one end. Probably another lift, he thought. Stepping over to one wall, Kyle found a computer display with the words, "Inventory Control" on the screen. Putting his weapon away, he executed a search for Phirk metal.
The computer diligently processed the request and displayed, "Phirk metal samples, level 1, chamber 3." Okay, Kyle thought, and where is chamber 3? He asked the computer this question and it replied with a level map showing a yellow arrow pointing to the circular shaft he had seen moments earlier. "Thank you very much," he muttered, turning away.
Unfortunately, he turned away too soon and missed the warning message.
Walking back to the circular chamber, Kyle found a palm access panel on the front. He pressed it and the wall slid aside to reveal a number of glass cases, each about a meter high. Inside was a piece of grayish metal. That must be it, he thought, reaching out and taking one.
No sooner had he picked up the container than an alarm went off. A computerized voice called, "Alert! Alert! Unauthorized access to security chamber."
Blast! I didn't check the computer to see if this was a secure area. Holding the chamber with the Phirk metal under his left arm, Kyle drew his blaster free.
The alarm continued to call out is warning as he made his way back into the lift and pressed the button for the top level. The lift made its way upward, coming to a halt at the top of the base. As the door slid aside, Kyle started to walk out when three stormtroopers appeared at the door.
"Halt!" one called, and the other drew their weapons. Kyle fired, dropping all three before they could fire a shot. Sticking his head out of the lift, he saw no more, but reminded himself to be on guard anyways. He came out of the lift at a run, heading for the door he had come through. It slid aside and Kyle found himself smiling, only to have it fade away as a group of six stormtroopers opened fire on him from the far side of the bridge.
Kyle threw himself back inside the door, firing a few wild shots as he did so. Metal exploded as the troopers' fire struck the doorway. Kyle shielded his face as chips of steel and permacrete flew past him. Leaning out, he fired a few more shots, then ducked back as return fire hit the ground just in front of him.
"Surrender!" called a trooper, "come out now and we'll let you live!" Yeah, sure, thought Kyle. And by the time they finish interrogating me, I'll wish they'd have shot me. He answered by leaning out and firing again. One of the troopers was hit and fell, his body going over the edge and plummeting to the ground far below.
Still, Kyle knew he was outgunned. Time to call in the reinforcements. Setting the container of Phirk metal down on the ground, Kyle grabbed his communicator.
"Katarn to Moldy Crow."
More laser fire from the stormtroopers struck nearby, a few shots scorching the wall opposite Kyle. He look just long enough to see they were coming across the bridge.
Yep, he though, I'm definitely in trouble. Mashing the "transmit" button, he called, "Repeat, this is Katarn to Moldy Crow!"
There was no response. Kyle leaned out to fire another series of shots just as the troopers opened fire. Twin blasts struck his arm, burning through the jacket and hitting the armor. The shock knocked the blaster out of his arm. He bent to retrieve it, but let it go as he saw the gun had been hit too. The barrel was laid open and the power pack destroyed. It would never work again.
This is not good, Kyle thought. Just then, the communicator crackled and Bastro's voice came through.
"Moldy Crow to Katarn! This is Moldy Crow calling Katarn! Respond!"
"Bastro!"
"Kyle! Are you all right?"
"Well, considering I've got a squad of stormtroopers advancing on my position and my weapon's just been blasted, I'd say no."
"Activate your locator. I'm on my way."
Kyle pressed the button on the communicator to activate the homing signal. Hopefully, Bastro would not be long in coming.
More shots struck inside the hall, the troopers were getting closer. It was then Kyle remembered his Bryar pistol. He pulled it free and pointed the gun around the door, pressing the trigger. The gun jumped as it expended shot after shot. He heard a trooper cry out, then the sound of a body falling to the deck outside. Another cry of pain quickly disappeared as the owner of the voice fell over the bridge.
But even as the two troopers dropped, laser blasts from the remaining troopers landed all around him. Debris was flying everywhere, making it difficult for him to breathe. A shot from one of the troopers hit him in the arm and he pulled it back, grimacing in pain.
"Last chance!" said a voice, "surrender now or die." Kyle's answer was to switch the Bryar pistol to his left and step into open view. The troopers were caught by surprise and another fell as his shots hit home. But this time, their fire hit him in the chest and he fell to the deck, stunned.
He was starting to think this might be it when he heard the roar of the Crow's drives. The ship came into view, weapons firing. The remaining stormtroopers barely had time to register the new enemy before they were hit. Kyle heard an explosive roar from outside as he struggled to rise.
When he had gained his feet, he stared in wide-eyed shock at the scene before him. Bastro had not only taken care of the stormtroopers, but his blasts had destroyed the bridge as well. Now, the Moldy Crow hovered by the near end of the former bridge. The cockpit opened and Bastro waved to him. Stopping just long enough to grab the Phirk metal container, Kyle jogged towards the ship, stepping aboard and settling into the forward cockpit. "Go!" he shouted.
Bastro complied, sending the Moldy Crow up and away from the base. As they headed into the low clouds, he asked, "What happened?"
"I found the metal," Kyle said, displaying the container, "but managed to set off an alarm. Although, I wasn't too surprised it happened. Stormtroopers and I have a way of finding each other.
"So, now what?" Bastro asked.
"We contact Mon Mothma."
Kyle activated the Crow's communicator and signaled the New Hope. After verifying he was who he said he was, Mon Mothma came on the line.
"Kyle, what is your status?"
"I've got the sample of metal," he answered.
"Excellent," she said, "Did you encounter much resistance?"
"Not until an alarm went off alerting the stormtroopers to my presence."
"Are the two of you alright?" Mon Mothma said, concern evident in her voice.
"I took a few hits," Kyle said, "nothing serious. Bastro's fine. In fact, he took out the stormtroopers attacking me."
"Very good," she replied, "well done, Bastro."
"Thank you, Mon Mothma," Bastro said, smiling at the praise.
"Do you want us to head back?" Kyle asked.
"Not just yet," she answered, "we've gotten further information from Rebus about a weapons manufacturing plant on one of Fest's moons."
"Not the Blood Moon?" Kyle asked.
"Yes," Mon Mothma said, surprised, "how did you know?"
"I used to hear stories about it at the Academy. Some thought the Empire had a secret project going on there. Others said it was one of the manufacturing worlds used in the Clone Wars. I always figured it was a myth"
"I see," Mon Mothma said, "well, I assure the moon is no myth. I want you and Bastro to go investigate and determine exactly what is there."
"And if it is a weapons plant?" Kyle asked.
"Then, I want you to destroy it," Mon Mothma said.
"Oh-kay, " he said, unsure, "and how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"We equipped your ship with sequencer charges," Mon Mothma answered, "you can place them on the base's power generators. The resulting blast should level the base completely."
"How much time will I have after setting the charges?" Kyle said.
"Five minutes," Mon Mothma replied.
Kyle's eyes widened in surprise. Five minutes! He turned round to see Bastro looking at him with a similar expression.
"That's not a lot of time"
"Tactical recommends you set them on your way out of the base," Mon Mothma said.
"Then that's what I'll do," Kyle said, understanding that this was the best he was going to get.
"Good luck, Kyle," Mon Mothma, "and you, Bastro. May the Force be with both of you."
She ended the transmission, leaving the two men to ponder the mission before them. If anything delayed Kyle's exit…
"Kyle?"
"Yes?" he answered, turning to look at Bastro.
"We get hazard pay for this, right?"
Kyle stared in openmouthed surprise at his companion, then began laughing, Bastro joining him. For a few minutes, the Moldy Crow reverberated with the men's laughter.
When the last chuckle had faded, Kyle looked into Bastro's eyes. "Are you ready for this?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Bastro replied.
Kyle saw the same fear he felt in Bastro's eyes, but also the same determination to complete the mission.
"Okay then," Kyle said, "set course for the Blood Moon."
Bastro nodded, guiding the Moldy Crow out of Fest's atmosphere. The ship turned, aimed towards a large planet some distance away. As they approached, Kyle and Bastro took in the appearance of the moon. Whatever surface features should have been visible from space were covered by the whirling atmosphere.
Red and black clouds traversed across the surface of the moon. When it had first been discovered, the pilot had said the moon looked like a bloody wound which had led to it being named the Blood Moon.
The Moldy Crow got closer, Bastro guiding down towards the moon.
"Here we go."
The Crow's nose penetrated the upper atmosphere and the ship soon disappeared into the swirling mass of clouds.
Alliance Cruiser New Hope
After returning from her recon mission, Jan had spent the last twelve hours sifting through reports and other reams of data. The head technician finally ordered her to take a break. At first she protested, but when he threatened to call Mon Mothma, Jan surrendered, leaving Tactical with a promise to return soon.
Now, she stood at one of the many observation ports, gazing out at the stars. Jan prided herself on being able to focus on her work and what needed to be done. But for some reason, she couldn't forget the last conversation if you could call it that, she had had with Kyle.
Although she had no doubt Kyle was wrong and she was right, Jan wondered if she had been too hard on him. Granted, Kyle's thought processes needed a major overhaul. But he had also been a pawn of the Empire for eighteen years. Maybe the whole incident with Rebus was an aberration, Kyle resorting to his old training instinctively. She hoped that was the case.
Suddenly, Jan spotted a ship emerging from hyperspace. As it turned towards the New Hope, Jan recognized the distinctive lines of the Moldy Crow. Before she realized it, she was making her way towards the hangar bay.
Moments later the hangar doors parted as she stepped through them. The Crow had crossed through the force field and was just settling to the deck. The cockpit opened as Jan approached the ship. She could see Kyle's face as he shut down the engines.
"So, you're back," she called.
Kyle's head snapped around, eyes locking on Jan. His face clouded with anger for a moment, but then he dropped his eyes and turned away. Jan raised here eyebrows in surprise. What was wrong?
"Kyle," she called, "are you okay?"
He didn't answer, wouldn't turn to look at her. Jan approached the cockpit and stepped up so she could see into the cockpit. Kyle was still facing away from her.
"What's…" Jan began, then her gaze caught the sight in the rear cockpit. Bastro Thellen was slumped awkwardly in the rear seat, dried blood covering part of his face. Jan knew just by looking at him, but she asked anyway.
Jan gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. Kyle looked at her for a moment, then turned away again, staring at nothing.
Turning to him, Jan said, "Are you…?"
"I'm fine," he said quietly, "just… take care of Bastro."
Pulling her communicator from her belt, Jan called Medical. Minutes later, a trauma team, including Dr. Berth, arrived at the hangar bay. "What's the situation?" he asked Jan.
Pointing to the Crow's cockpit in answer, Jan stepped out of the way as Berth and his team stepped up to the ship. One man gasped in surprise when they saw the body. The doctor examined Bastro and confirmed that he was indeed, dead. With the help of two others, Berth lifted the man's body from the cockpit and put it onto a stretcher.
The doctor then moved back to the cockpit where Kyle still sat, motionless. "Are you all right?" Berth asked.
"I'm fine," Kyle answered in a monotone. "Is Bastro..?"
"I'm afraid so," Berth answered.
Kyle nodded, rising to his feet. He stepped out of the cockpit and to the deck. Jan saw his eyes were unfocused, not seeing anything. His expression showed nothing, it was placid, mouth a thin line.
Stepping down next to him, Berth reached for Kyle's arm. "C'mon, let's go to sickbay."
Kyle shook the hand off him, turning to glare at the doctor.
"I said I was fine."
With that, Kyle strode away from the two, passing through the bay doors.
"What happened to him?" Berth asked.
"I don't know," Jan asked, putting a hand on the man's shoulder, "but I'm going to find out."
Leaving the hangar bay, Jan looked for Kyle but he had disappeared. She checked his quarters, but he wasn't there. She was heading for sickbay when her communicator dinged.
"Jan here."
"This is Mon Mothma. Please come to the briefing room immediately."
"Could it possibly wait? Kyle just got back and there's something wrong with him. I'm trying to find him."
"Then consider your search over. He's here."
"What!"
"He just walked in here a few minutes ago and sat down."
"I'm on my way."
Jan realized she couldn't run, but she could walk fast.
When she entered the briefing room, Jan saw Kyle at the room's single table. He was seated, staring at the far wall. Mon Mothma was opposite him, turning to look at Jan as she entered.
She made her way over to the table, standing by Kyle. The women looked at each other, neither one knowing what to say or who should speak first. Finally, Mon Mothma spoke.
"Kyle, Jan is here. Now is there something you want to tell me?"
At first, he didn't answer. Mon Mothma was about to say something when Kyle suddenly took a deep breath and he began speaking.
"You were right," he said, his voice clear, but with a note of defeat in it. "I shouldn't have taken Bastro with me. If I'd left him here, he'd still be alive."
Mon Mothma's eyes went wide. "What?" she exclaimed.
"Dr. Berth and his team just removed the body from the Crow," Jan answered.
Mon Mothma stared in shocked surprise first at Jan, then at Kyle. Jan could see the older woman was fighting not to react. No one said anything as Mon Mothma brought herself under control.
"What happened?" she asked.
Kyle started speaking again, relaying the details of the mission to Fest. "After you," he said, indicating Mon Mothma with a nod of his head, "instructed us to check out the Blood Moon, Bastro took the ship in. During our approach, we detected massive heat traces from the southern equator. Bastro brought us in and we discovered a massive factory covering several square miles. It was in operation, stacks billowing clouds of gas into the atmosphere."
"I had Bastro bring us down just outside the factory. No sooner had we landed than a squad of stormtroopers attacked. I was barely out of the cockpit when the first shot struck the Crow's nose. I opened fire and Bastro fired a few shots from the laser cannons, eliminating the entire squad.
"Given that our approach had obviously been detected, Bastro and I decided it would be best for him to accompany me. We left the Crow's shields activated, in case any other stormtroopers found her. And then we headed into the factory."
Pulling the macrobinoculars from his face, Kyle turned to his friend. "Okay, it looks like the entrance is on the far side of this plateau. But there's a number of exhaust between here and there." "So we need to be careful," Bastro finished. "Exactly," Kyle said, smiling, "let's go."
Together, the two made their way across the reddish rocks of the plateau, coughing as a persistent wind drove a mixture of smog and ash past them. As they neared the first exhaust vent, Kyle realized they would need to be especially careful coming around them.
The exhaust vents were huge, several hundred feet in diameter and extending upwards for some distance. Unable to see completely around it, Kyle got as close as he dared to silvery metal and edged carefully around its perimeter.
Suddenly, a blow hit him from behind and he fell forward, instinctively curling and turning the fall into a forward roll. "Stormtroopers!" Bastro cried. Coming onto one knee, Kyle turned around just as the security guard fired a series of shots, striking two troopers square in the chest. They fell, armor smoking.
Rising to his feet, Kyle approached the man. Seeing his expression, Bastro spoke quickly. "Sorry, I saw them approaching. One had his rifle out and was aiming at you."
Looking at the bodies of the troopers, Kyle said, "Well, you got 'em. But next time, give me some warning." Bastro nodded, looking a bit sheepish. They continued past the first exhaust vent and around the second without further incident.
"Wow, it's hot here," Bastro said wiping at the collected sweat on his face.
"You could've stayed at the ship," Kyle said.
"And miss all this?" Bastro countered. The men grinned at each other for a moment, then headed for the third cylinder.
About halfway around it, Kyle held up a hand. "Hold it."
The pair stopped and Kyle listened intently. "Thought I heard footsteps," he said.
But after five minutes had passed, he shrugged. They crept forward, rounding the cylinder. Bastro saw it first and pointed. Kyle looked and saw the entrance door, less than a hundred yards away.
Looking around and seeing no one, Kyle said, "Okay, let's go."
But barely had the pair emerged into the open when a metallic voice cut through the air. "Hold it! Drop your weapons!"
The two men cast about looking for the owner of the voice. "There!" said Bastro pointing.
On the ridge overlooking the plateau, a group of stormtroopers had their guns trained on them.
"Run for it!" Kyle yelled
With that, he dashed for the door, firing up at troopers. Bastro followed, also firing. They dodged, turning this way and that to avoid the return fire.
Kyle was almost to the door and started to smile when it slid open and three more stormtroopers stepped out.
"Bastro!" he called, "look out!"
Kyle tried to aim his weapon, but the troopers fired first, three shots catching him in the chest. He was knocked backwards, crashing to the ground, his blaster flying away.
Clutching his chest in pain, Kyle tried to reach for his Bryar pistol, but another shot struck the ground near his hand, showering him with rock. Not again, he thought. But, before the troopers could finish the job, Bastro ran forward, his blaster spitting red death. The troopers were caught by surprise. One by one, they dropped.
With blasts from the group on the ridge landing all around them, Bastro grabbed Kyle, throwing the smaller man across his shoulder and running for the entrance. He made it inside as a series of shots struck the doorway. Bastro turned and stabbed at the door controls, closing and locking it.
Then, carefully, he set Kyle down. "Are you okay?"
Grimacing in pain, Kyle sat up. "Well, I feel like a Rancor just did a tap dance on my chest, but I'll live."
Bastro helped him rise to his feet. "Thanks," Kyle said. "Don't mention it," Bastro replied, "Now where do we go?"
Consulting his mapper, Kyle located their destination. "The generator room is two levels below us. We need to see if we can a lift or access tunnel."
The room they were in was a rough square with a single door on the opposite wall. Going through it, Kyle and Bastro found themselves among a group of large turbines, powering who knew what. Weapons at the ready, they crossed the room looking for an exit. Noise from the turbines made it nearly impossible to communicate.
As they passed one turbine that was not in operation, Bastro dashed forward and grabbed Kyle's shoulder. He swung around, glaring at the other man as if to say, "What?" Bastro pointed and Kyle's brows rose as he spied what the other man had seen.
On the backside of the offline turbine was a circular patch of metal that could only be a lift. Pretty clever, thought Kyle, smiling, hide it in plain sight. With Bastro following, he stepped onto the lift. It sensed the pressure of their feet and obediently activated, beginning a slow descent.
The two men watched blank steel walls pass by as the lift took them down. When it stopped and a set of doors opened, Kyle looked over at Bastro and grinned. The older man returned the look. Before them lay the generator room. They stepped out of the lift and the doors slid shut behind them.
It was quieter here and Bastro could hear Kyle as he said, "You've got the charges?" "Right here," Bastro said, removing three small crossed shaped devices from his belt. The sequencer charges were small, but very powerful. "Let's get them planted," Kyle said, taking one.
Moving to the generators, Kyle approached one while Bastro went to another. Finding a suitable place, Kyle pressed a button on the charge, the magnetized surface of the bomb taking firm hold on the metal covering of the generator. He pressed another button, which primed the charge and set the timer.
Bastro had gotten his charge in place also and together the pair moved to place the third one. As the charge was secured into place and the timer activated, Bastro clapped Kyle on the back. "Nice job, partner. First juri juice is on me when we get back to the New Hope."
Smiling, Kyle nodded to the lift. They had just taken a step towards it when the unmistakable of a door sliding open came to their ears. Drawing their weapons, the pair scanned for the source of the sound, but there was nothing. Another sound came, a strange buzzing, like a droid whose vocoder was scrambled.
Suddenly, from behind one of the generators, it stepped out. The men's eyes went wide at the sight of it. Standing nearly eight feet tall, the thing looked like a droid only partially assembled.
Servomotors and plastic tubes were visible in the structure. A vaguely humanoid head contained two red eyes, which were fixed on them. In its skeletal right hand, the thing carried a sheet of metal, holding it like a shield. The other arm terminated in a long, pointed blade.
It took a step towards Kyle and Bastro who simultaneously raised their weapons and opened fire. But the thing raised its shield, their blasts reflecting off its surface.
It took another step forward, then another. Kyle started to back towards the lift, calling for Bastro to come with him. But before the other man could follow, the thing suddenly jumped forward, extending its blade.