Kyle Katarn: The Rise & Fall
Book 1: Rise of a Hero
Part 2
Chapter 18: Kyle's Choices
A/N: Here in Chapter 18, things are going to get better for Kyle and by next chapter, he'll receive his next mission assignment. But what happens inside, well… read it and tell me what'cha think!
Two Weeks Later
"Give it a try."
He grasped the control, moved it to the left.
"Nope," he said, shaking his head, "still nothing."
"What?" Wexter exclaimed. "No, that's not right. Try it again."
Kyle pushed the control the other way, but again the mechanism refused to respond.
"I don't believe this," Wexter said, stepping down from the cockpit.
As the older man made his way towards the back of the ship, Kyle couldn't help but smile at the colorful string of invectives Wexter was uttering. When they had first started working on the Crow, the older man's penchant for cursing at machinery had been a bit embarrassing. But now, after nearly a week of working together, Kyle was getting used to it.
He leaned back in the cockpit chair, making himself while waiting for Wexter to discover the latest problem. When the engineer had first approached him about taking a look at the Crow's innards, Kyle had been hesitant. The Crow was at best, a semi-reliable and extremely temperamental ship. His and Jan's attempts at repairs had produced negligible results at best, and bigger problems at worst. It was almost as if the ship didn't want to be fixed. And despite recent events, he did remember Jan warning Wexter to leave the Crow alone.
But, after two days of Wexter endlessly explaining how careful he'd be and how his "magic hands" could make any ship work better, Kyle finally relented. After some discussion, it was decided that Wexter would be allowed to examine the Crow's faulty repulsors to determine why they kept malfunctioning at random. If he could diagnose the problem, it would be up to Kyle to decide whether or not the engineer could proceed with repairs.
Wexter began by opening up the Crow's engine access panels until the entire repulsor was open for inspection. Less than fifteen minutes had passed before the older man had emerged from underneath the ship, shaking his head.
"What?" Kyle had asked, fearing the worst.
"I'm amazed this thing can even get off the ground," Wexter said, "half the wires connecting the port repulsor group to the control module are either frayed or connected so loosely I can give 'em the tiniest shake and they come loose."
He waited for the man to continue. When he didn't, Kyle asked. "What else?"
Wexter gave him a confused look. "What do you mean what else? I just told you what's wrong."
"A bunch of frayed and loose wires?" Kyle said having trouble believing it was that simple, "that's it? That's all that's wrong?"
Wexter stared at him with a look that said "Duh".
"That's it."
"Oh-kay," Kyle replied, still trying to wrap his brain around it, "how long for repairs?"
"Assuming I can find replacement wiring; ten, maybe fifteen minutes."
Kyle's jaw dropped open. He and Jan had once spent nearly five hours trying to fix the repulsors, resulting in no improvement. Lost in his reverie, it took a moment before he realized Wexter was speaking to him.
"Sorry. What did you say?"
"I said, 'do you want me to fix it or not?'"
Kyle nodded. "Definitely."
Wexter nodded in return. He headed for the parts bins on the far side of the hangar, returning ten minutes later with a handful of wires. As Kyle watched, the engineer slid back under the Crow. Another ten minutes went by before he slid back out again.
"All done. Let's give it a try."
Still not completely believing the repair had been that simple, Kyle nevertheless climbed into the cockpit. When a systems test confirmed power was flowing to the repulsors, he hit the ignition switch. With a hiccough ten times quieter than the loud boom that used to echo from them, the repulsors came on line. Kyle checked the displays, shaking his head in surprise as he verified that the entire repulsor grid was working perfectly. Applying more power, he was even more pleased to feel the Crow rise smoothly off the deck. There was none of the hesitation or need for switching power between the repulsor banks to keep the ship aloft. Realizing he was grinning like an idiot and not caring in the slightest, Kyle guided the ship in a large arc across the width of the hangar bay before finally touching down with equal smoothness.
Wexter walked up to where Kyle could see him, saw the younger man's wide grin.
"So I take it you're happy with my work."
Over the next four days, Wexter had gone over nearly every one of the Crow's major systems, replacing even more wiring, ferreting out damaged components for the shield grid and even having stronger springs added to the ship's landing skids so it was now capable of making a high speed landing without fear of damage.
"Kyle," Wexter had said over lunch yesterday, "I've been meaning to ask you about that large cannon hanging just under and behind the cockpit."
"Yeah?"
"Well, I've been reading over the specs for the VT-1300 and I think I know exactly what it is."
"What?"
"A twin barreled turbo laser cannon."
"A turbolas…" Kyle started to say, "Wait a minute! You're serious? A turbo laser?"
Wexter nodded.
"That's impossible. Turbo laser batteries are too large for anything but capital ships like Star Destroyers."
"That's true," Wexter said, "but consider what you just said."
"I said that turbo lasers are too large for anything other than a capital ship," Kyle repeated.
"No, that's not what you said," Wexter corrected, "You said turbo laser batteries."
"Okay fine," Kyle said with annoyance, "turbo laser batteries. What difference does it make? There's no way one would fit on a ship the size of the Crow."
Wexter gave him a look of a teacher correcting a student who wasn't getting it. "Kyle, a turbo laser battery a building-sized structure used on capital ships as well as space and ground bases. A turbo laser cannon, on the other hand, can be mounted on a starship. Granted, it doesn't have the same power or impact as it bigger cousin, but in a space battle, it can do quite a bit of damage to the enemy."
There was a moment of silence as Kyle considered what he had been told. Everything he had been about turbo lasers focused on the large-scale variety.
But, he reasoned, if they can install multiple turbo lasers on something as big as a Star Destroyer, then why could you do the same thing on a smaller scale?
"What about recoil? I can remember that being a concern in ground based units."
Again, Wexter spoke to him as teacher to student. "Recoil is only a factor in an area where there's gravity. Since there's none in space, the recoil is minimal. However, so that you won't worry, consider where the cannon is mounted on the Crow."
Kyle thought about it for a moment, then his eyes brightened as he figured it out. "Slung beneath the ship. And there's about a six foot gap between the end of the cannon and the Crow's hull."
"Exactly," Wexter said, giving him a pleased look.
"Then I have just one other question."
"And that is?"
The smile Kyle gave Wexter was wide and genuine. "What are we waiting for?"
But now, after nearly twelve hours of working on the cannon, it still refused to function. All their tests indicated power was flowing to it and none of the cannon's components indicating any kind of problem beyond normal wear and tear. Once again, the Moldy Crow was living up to its reputation as a temperamental ship.
BANG!
Kyle jumped in his seat, startled by the sudden noise. He calmed down just as quickly. When Wexter got frustrated, he had a penchant of abusing the hull in frustration. At first, Kyle had asked him to be careful of damaging the Crow's exterior. But as the engineer had pointed out, with all the other scrapes, dents and assorted marks on the ship, who was going to notice one more?
CLANG!
That's new, Kyle thought, sounds like something hit the deck. He started to stand up with the intention of leaving the cockpit to check on what the noise was when he heard Wexter shout.
"Aha! There you are!"
He heard the engineer give a hearty grunt, then another loud "CLANG!" echoed out as something else struck the deck.
"Wexter," Kyle called, "you okay back there?"
When he didn't get a response, Kyle extricated himself from the cockpit quickly, fearing that the older man had finally done something to hurt himself. He had already close more than once.
But as his feet touched the deck and he turned to look towards the back of the ship, Kyle saw Wexter standing by a squat, cylindrical object. The engineer had his hands on his hips and a satisfied grin on his face.
"Wexter?" Kyle called as he approached.
In response, the older man turned to see Kyle coming towards him. He pointed at the cylindrical object. "Here it is! Told ya I'd find the problem!"
Not understanding, Kyle drew closer, eyes moving between the object and Wexter's face.
"Don't you see?" the engineer prompted, "This is it! Everything we've been trying was right, but it wasn't working because of this thing!"
Kyle held up a hand to stop him, then indicated the object. "Okay, Wexter, I believe you. But, perhaps you should tell me what 'it' is first."
The engineer clapped a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment. "Of course. You wouldn't know what this is."
He paused to catch his breath. "Sorry I got carried away there. But once I saw it, all our failures to get the cannon working suddenly made sense."
Kyle waited for him to continue.
"This," Wexter said, pointing at the object, "is a power core, designed to provide power for the cannon so it wouldn't draw directly from any of the ship's systems. With me so far?"
Kyle nodded.
"The reason you don't recognize is the technology is about twenty years out of date. Back then; some ship reactors were supplemented with additional power cores to supply key systems. That way, if the main power core were damaged or destroyed, you could switch to the backup cores and keep the ship up and running."
"Okay," Kyle said, "I get it now. But wait, what if…"
"Exactly," Wexter said, cutting him off, "once the secondary power core is drained, that's it. It can't be recharged, only replaced."
"But, look at how big that thing is."
"You're right on the money, Kyle. These old cores are so bulky, heavy and believe me, getting them out is way easier than installing a new one."
The rest of it came to the young man in a flash. "And because this thing is so old, it's probably drained."
Wexter pointed to an indicator panel on one side of the object. Moving over, Kyle could see an old-fashioned needle gauge with the words "Power Level" written on it. The needle was all the way over on the "0" mark. The power was indeed, drained. Then that meant…
The older man noticed the change in Kyle's expression. Instead of the look of excited interest, the younger man now looked disappointed.
"Kyle? What's wrong?"
In answer, he pointed at the defunct core. "Well, without this thing to power it, then the cannon's completely useless."
Wexter tried not to, but the look on Kyle's face was too much. He burst out laughing.
"Okay," Kyle said, "either you're losing it or I'm missing something. Which is it?"
"I'm sorry, Kyle. But if you could have seen the look on your face."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," came the response with a roll of the eyes, "so, which is it?"
"Remember I told you the secondary power cores were used because of fear of power outages should the main core go offline."
"Sure. You also mentioned that the additional cores kept other systems from drawing too much power for the main one."
"Exactly. And back then; it was a legitimate problem. But current technology has created power cores two to three times more powerful than those old ones. Secondary systems still draw additional power, but the core can handle the load."
"Okay. But I still don't see how that helps us."
"Why not?"
Kyle waved his hands to indicate the ship. "The Crow is a pretty old ship. I'd imagine her systems, including the power core, are twenty plus years old."
Wexter nodded to indicate her understood. "Normally, you'd be right, Kyle. But whoever had this ship before you took the time to install a few upgrades, like the turbo laser cannon."
"Wait a minute. You don't mean…"
Wexter crooked a finger at him and Kyle followed the engineer over to a section of the hull where Wexter had removed several panels.
"Take a look," he said, pointing inside.
Kyle did so and almost immediately spotted the power core. While the overall shape was not unlike the one Wexter had just removed, this one was significantly smaller.
"Check out the manufacture date," Wexter said, pointing to a set of numbers on one side of the core.
Reading them, Kyle turned to the older man and smiled. "It was made about five years ago."
"Yes," Wexter acknowledged, "and that means…"
It took Kyle a moment. "We can hook the turbo laser cannon to feed right off of it."
"That's right."
"Whoa whoa, whoa, wait just a second, Wexter." The implication of this was a little staggering. "You're saying that I'm going to have a turbo laser cannon available for space combat."
"I believe that is what I said."
Kyle was speechless for a long moment. Then, as his grin got even wider, he said, "Me likey."
"I thought you would. But there is one more item."
"And that is?" Kyle asked, almost expecting Wexter to tell him that the Crow had some kind of super shield to repel lasers.
"Well, it appears that whoever installed the cannon didn't want it to be stationary."
"No," Kyle said, "no way."
Wexter pointed up to where the cannon connected to the ship. Two metal discs were visible.
"There's a servomotor mounted in there that will allow the cannon to traverse ninety degrees in either direction."
Kyle's expression was that of a child at Christmas who gotten the present he had wished for all year. "Can I try it?"
"As soon as we get some power to the cannon, sure. And before you ask, I'm going to check whether recoil is going to affect how the ship handles when the cannon is traversed."
"Wexter," Kyle said, still grinning widely, "I'd offer to buy you dinner if I could. What you've done in this past week, I couldn't begin to repay you."
"You've already done that, Kyle. After what happened between you, Galder and Jan, Alessa and I figured we'd be about as welcome as a Hutt before long."
"Aw c'mon, Wexter. Mon Mothma had more to do with that than I did. She was the one who told you and Alessa you could stay aboard the New Hope as long as you wished."
"Maybe. But the way you spoke up for us. Well, there's no other way to say it. It was a surprise. I mean, you've known us for less than a month, Kyle."
"Okay, but how about the way you stood up to Jan when she slugged me? For a relative stranger, you and Alessa were there to help me when I needed it."
"Alessa told you about that."
"Yes, she did. Listen, Wexter, I know how loyal friends can be to each other. But you and Alessa chose what was right over that loyalty. I appreciate it."
A silence descended between the two men. Being typical males, they were uncomfortable expressing their feelings to each other.
"So," Wexter said, finally breaking the silence, "since I've done such a good job, explain why you can't buy me dinner. I think I've earned it."
"Please," Kyle said, "you've more than earned it. But I happen to have plans."
"With Alessa?"
"Who else?"
"And…?"
"And what?" Kyle said.
"What will you be doing?" Wexter teased.
"None of your business!"
Wexter tried to look hurt, but couldn't suppress his smile, "So, that's how it is."
"Oh please," Kyle replied, rolling his eyes.
Wexter said nothing, continuing to stare at him.
"Fine!" Kyle said, throwing up his hands in frustration, "we're going to dinner."
"And afterward? What time may I expect her home?"
"Before curfew, 'dad'."
"She'd better be."
"I'd like to see you say that to Alessa."
"Say what to me?"
They both turned to see her standing on the opposite side of the ship, leaning against the Crow's nose.
The sarcastic smirk he had been giving Wexter turned into a genuine smile. Kyle felt a surge of joy in his heart as his eyes landed on her.
"Hi."
"Hi, yourself," Alessa replied, pushing off from the ship and coming around to where Kyle and Wexter were standing.
She stopped in front of Kyle, pushed up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. But her welcome smile vanished as she wrinkled her nose at him.
"You need a shower."
Kyle looked down at himself. His clothes, pair of gray pants topped by a maroon shirt were sweat stained and while the stains on them were not nearly numerous as those on Wexter's clothes, it was clear he had been working hard.
"Yeah, I guess so. But Alessa, you'll never guess what we found out today." He pointed to the turbo laser and explained to her how Wexter had discovered why it wouldn't work.
While she didn't understand everything Kyle said to her, his enthusiasm was infectious.
"Nice job, Wexter," she said, smiling at him.
"Thank you," the older man said, giving a short bow, "this ship is probably the most rewarding and most frustrating thing I've ever worked on, Alessa. Some of the components are practically brand new, while others are such a mess it's a wonder that the ship is able to fly."
"Just make sure you're careful," Alessa cautioned.
"You know me, Alessa."
"Yes, I do. So I say again, be careful."
"I think I've just been insulted."
"Not exactly insulted," Kyle joined, "But you do remember what happened the day before yesterday when you decided to check the Crow's lasers?"
"That wasn't my fault," Wexter said quickly.
"Of course it wasn't," Alessa said sarcastically, "and security showing up after you blasted the wall wasn't your fault either."
The three of them looked at the still visible burn mark. "Well…" Wexter started to say.
Kyle and Alessa laughed, joined a moment later by Wexter.
"So, Wexter," Alessa said when they had finished, "can I persuade you to part with Kyle for a while?"
"I suppose so. He's already told me you're planning to go to dinner. What about afterwards?"
"He wants to make sure you're home by 'curfew'," Kyle said, looking down at her.
"Since when do I have a curfew?"
"Since your 'boyfriend' there won't tell me where you're going and what you're doing."
"Wexter," Alessa said, "the ship is only so big. It's not like we can go anywhere else."
He considered that for a moment. "All right, then. What will you be doing?"
"Making passionate love in Kyle's quarters," she said without hesitation.
"Alessa!" the two men exclaimed in unison.
"You wanted to know," she said seriously.
"Then again," Wexter replied, not sure if she was kidding or not, "maybe I don't need to know. All right then, you two go on and have a good time."
"Oh, we will," Alessa said with emphasis.
She managed to hold the serious expression for another three seconds before bursting into laughter.
"That wasn't funny, young lady," Wexter said, half seriously.
"Oh, pish-tosh," she replied. Encircling Kyle's left arm with her right, she pulled him forward and they began striding across the hangar bay.
"You are bad," he said just loud enough for her to hear.
"Ask the question, you'd better be ready for the answer," Alessa replied.
"I suppose so. So, beyond dinner, what did you want to do tonight?"
She shrugged, looked up at him. "I'm sure we'll think of something."
Kyle looked down into her smiling face. I could get lost in those eyes, he thought. And not for the first time did he consider how it was the two of them had gotten together.
His mind drifted back to the day it had started.
After a miserable night where sleep only served to bring dreams of Jan, Kyle was feeling almost despondent. How could things have gone so wrong between him and Jan? Memories of the kiss they had shared made his heart ache. And try as he might, he couldn't quit asking why. Why had she sided with Galder against him? Why did she choose Galder over him? Why did he ever let her into his heart? Why was Jan giving up on what they had? The questions were legion, but the answers were few. And the ones he got only served to cause him more pain.
Part of him felt like ripping the IV out of his arm, finding a ship and going somewhere, anywhere. The further away from Jan, the better. But even in his worst moments, he knew it was impossible. Plasdan and his security staff would make sure he didn't make it out of sickbay, much less to the hangar bay. Still…
The curtains encircling his bed rustled. For a fleeting moment, he thought it might be Jan. But the face that became visible belonged to Dr. Berth.
"Good morning."
Kyle grunted in response.
"I understand from the night nurse that you had a rough night."
Another grunt.
"I'm guessing it has to with what happened between you and Jan."
Kyle didn't even bother responding this time.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Whatever, Kyle thought.
"You want to talk about it?"
Swallowing the first response that came to mind, Kyle muttered, "No."
"I see. Well, should you change your mind, just have someone buzz me, okay?"
Not likely."There's one other thing I have to ask you about and I'll let you be. Wexter and Alessa have asked if they could come see you."
It took him a moment to remember them. Jan's friends. The old guy and Galder's sister. Why would they want to see me? What do they want?
After nearly a minute had passed without a response, Berth spoke again, "Kyle I do need to give them an answer."
I remember them now. They were with me on the Aldera when Jan hit me. Doc said they kept me from moving around until he got there, kept me from making things worse by moving around.
A fragment of memory came to him. Alessa face, etched with concern, looking down at him, her dark hair brushing his face. She was the one who told me to quit moving. And Wexter, he was there too.
"Kyle?" Berth prompted.
They probably just want to see how I'm doing. I guess it'd be okay.
When he still didn't answer, Berth moved towards the curtains. He'd have to tell the Alderaanians that Kyle wouldn't see any just yet, to try again the next day.
"Okay."
Berth stopped, turned back around. Had Kyle spoken just now?
He walked to the head where he could see the young man's face.
"Kyle? Did you say something?"
"Okay," came the mutter, "they can come."
Berth smiled, glad that Kyle had spoken and that he had said yes. With everything else the young man was going through, the visit might provide a distraction from it. He could only hope. Stepping into his office, he contacted their quarters.
Two Hours Later
Kyle took a last sip of juice, returning the plastic glass to the tray. It was only after the doctor had threatened to feed him intravenously that Kyle had agreed to allow the mess staff to bring him a meal. When it arrived, the plethora of smells caused his stomach to growl loudly. Guess I am hungry, he thought.
After the attendant had placed the tray on his bedside table, Kyle waited just long enough for the curtains to close before he dug in ravenously. As he ate, Kyle remembered that he had visitors coming. Rather than be concerned about what Alessa and Wexter, his thoughts now turned to what he would say to them. He had known for a little more than two days. Other than Jan, who was a topic he didn't want to discuss, what would they talk about?
He had just wiped the remaining bits of potato and sauce from the meat dish with his fingers when the bedside curtains rustled and in came Doctor Berth.
"Kyle, your…"
The doctor stopped speaking, staring with shocked surprise as his patient licked his fingers clean.
"Well, I'm guessing you enjoyed your meal."
Kyle nodded; wiping his hands clean on the last in a stack of napkins.
"Right, then. Alessa and Wexter are here. Can I have them come in?"
Kyle didn't say anything at first. Berth could see he was trying to decide.
"I suppose so," he finally said.
Berth pulled the curtain open wider. "You can come in."
Dressed in a dark green pair of coveralls, Wexter was the first to enter, followed by Alessa. Even with everything that had gone, Kyle couldn't help but notice her. Alessa wore a dress of pale blue, belted in the middle with a sash of dark blue.
"How are you, Kyle?" Wexter asked.
"Okay, I guess."
"We just wanted to come by, make sure you were doing well."
"Thanks."
"So…." Wexter trailed off, not sure what to say next.
"How about you two?" Kyle asked, when the silence had become uncomfortable.
Growing more and more annoyed by the second, Alessa finally spoke up. "Oh phooey on both of you. We all know what we're thinking."
Wexter and Kyle looked to her, neither man speaking.
"What happened with Jan?" Alessa ventured.
"Yeah," Wexter said after a moment, "I suppose you're right. We just weren't sure you wanted to talk about it, Kyle."
At first, Kyle was tempted to tell them he wasn't interested. But even as he thought this, he realized that he did want to talk. Talking to himself sure wasn't helping.
"Actually, I think maybe talking to you two might help answer some of my questions."
"I'm not sure what we can tell you," Alessa said, "but I'm willing to try. Wexter?"
The older man nodded.
They talked for nearly an hour about the events of the previous day. To their collective surprise, each of them found that expressing how they felt about what had happened was actually helping.
At one point, Kyle asked, "I know you're all from Alderaan. But Galder, I got the feeling as soon as I met him that he was a government official or maybe a prince or something like that."
Alessa laughed and Wexter grinned at the analogy.
"What?"
"It was the mental picture," Alessa said, "our family was one of the wealthier ones on Alderaan, but we were as far from royalty as could be. And the closest anyone in our family ever came to serving in the government was when Galder served as an advisor to one of the council members."
Alessa and Wexter went on to describe growing on the peaceful world. Wexter's family had been mechanics all the way back to his great-great grandfather. "We weren't exactly luminaries on the social circuit, but when one of those muckety-mucks had a problem with their ships, they'd inevitably end up calling us."
Almost two hours later, Kyle realized that he was actually beginning to enjoy himself. Wexter and Alessa described Alderaan in such a way that he could almost seen how it had once been.
However, the conversation proved taxing on him as well. Kyle felt his head begin to droop and his eyelids were getting harder and harder to hold open.
"Kyle?"
His head snapped up, eyes blinking rapidly.
"Yes?"
"I think you're falling asleep," Alessa said, "we should go."
"No, you don't…" Kyle stopped speaking to let out a yawn. "Then again, maybe you're right."
"Thanks for letting us stop by to visit you," she said with a smile. Wexter echoed her words.
"Thank you both for taking the time," Kyle replied, "I liked talking about Alderaan. It sounds like it was quite a place."
"Yes," Alessa said, her smile fading just a bit, "it was. Well, goodbye for now."
A sudden impulse struck him. "Wait just a sec."
Wexter paused just outside the curtain, turning round to look at Kyle, Alessa just in front of him.
"If you have time tomorrow, maybe you could come by again?"
"Sure," Wexter said.
"I'd like that," Alessa replied.
"See you tomorrow then."
Waving goodbye, they departed. As Kyle lay there, he realized that it had been good to talk. It hadn't been fun talking about yesterday's events, but talking out how he felt seemed to relieve some of the pain and heartache he felt.
That night, he slept very well, his dreams filled with images of Alderaan.