Kyle Katarn: The Rise & Fall
Book 1: Rise of a Hero
Part 2
Chapter 19: A Brief Interlude
A/N: In the last chapter, we got to see the Crow get an upgrade or two and Kyle with his new girlfriend? Maybe, maybe not. Here in Chapter 22, we get to see our hero doing much better and spend some more time with Alessa and Wexter. In the midst of this, Kyle is summoned to a briefing with Mon Mothma. What about? Come in and find out!
Two Days after the "incident"
"Good morning," Berth said, walking into Kyle's room.
"Mornin', Doc." Kyle said with a smile.
"Well, you certainly sound better."
"I think I actually feel better, Doc."
"Well, good."
"So?"
"So what?" the doctor said innocently.
"C'mon, doc. You know you can't fool me. I can see the data pad."
"Oh this?" the doctor said, as if noticing it for the first time.
"Yeah, that." Kyle said, staring intently at Berth.
"Well, your test results look good. How's the nose?"
Grasping it between two fingers, Kyle moved the appendage. "Doesn't hurt anymore when I do this."
"That's good. Let's take a look at your back."
Rolling onto his side, Kyle waited patiently as Berth examined him.
"Well?"
"The bruises are gone for the most part. There are still a few small patches of irritated skin. But nothing I'm overly concerned with."
"You know what I'm gonna ask next, then."
Berth laughed, having expected this since Kyle had asked him the same question yesterday morning.
"Give me one more day. Barring any problems, you'll be free to leave tomorrow afternoon."
"I'm gonna hold you to that, Doc."
The doctor laughed again. "Oh, I almost forgot. You have a visitor this morning."
Kyle wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Kind of early. Who is it?"
"Me," a familiar voice said, becoming visible as she stepped inside.
"Mon Mothma!" he exclaimed in surprise.
"Hello, Kyle. It's good to see you awake."
"Thanks," he said, then awkwardly continued, "It's good to be awake."
Mon Mothma's lip curled up slightly. "So, how are you feeling?"
"Better. Doctor Berth says I'll be out of here tomorrow afternoon."
"Barring any problems," the doctor corrected.
"As you say, doc."
"Perhaps I should ask you, Doctor," Mon Mothma said, turning to Berth, "how is he?"
"His nose and back are healing just fine. And compared with just a few days ago, he's in much better spirits."
"Oh?" the Rebel leader said, curiosity in her tone.
"You can probably guess why."
"Yes, I would imagine that I could." Sitting down in one the room's two chairs, she continued. "I also imagine you have some questions for me, Kyle."
"Yes, but…" he trailed off, not sure how to ask what he was thinking.
"I spoke with Jan the morning following the incident between you two."
"How was she?"
Mon Mothma paused for a moment, considering her answer. "It was an unusual interview. Jan barely spoke, other than to say she didn't mean to hurt you, but was afraid of what you were going to do to Galder."
"She said the same thing to me when she came here. It… it wasn't like her."
"I agree. When she did not respond to my initial request to report to the briefing room, I ordered Plasdan to bring her there, under threat of arrest."
Kyle thought for a moment. "She came here, didn't she?"
Mon Mothma raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"
"Whatever caused her to act like she did, Jan would want to know how I was doing."
The Rebel leader nodded. "Plasdan did indeed find her here in sickbay, arguing with Dr. Berth. I had instructed him to keep Jan away from you until I spoke with her."
"Was Galder here too, Doc?"
Berth nodded. "He tried to intimidate me in allowing Jan to see you."
"He also interjected himself into the interview I had with Jan," Mon Mothma said.
"He tried something similar with me." Kyle said.
"Well, that is part of the reason I have come to see you today, Kyle. I would like to hear your version of events."
Kyle hesitated, not sure he wanted to relive it.
"Please, Kyle. It is important that I know exactly what happened."
"Okay," he said tonelessly and began talking.
"And that's all I remember until I woke up here in sickbay," he said, forty-five minutes later.
Mon Mothma didn't answer at first, thinking over all Kyle had told her.
"I see. Well, thank you, Kyle. I appreciate you telling me this. I know it was not pleasant for you. But what you have told me fills in the rest of the picture."
"Mon Mothma?"
"Yes, Kyle?"
"If… I may… ask… where is Jan?"
"In the brig," the Rebel leader said simply.
"Oh."
"I do have one more request for you, Kyle."
It took him a moment to respond. His thoughts were on Jan, stuck in the brig. He hoped she was okay.
"Yes?"
"If you are indeed discharged tomorrow afternoon, contact me as soon as you are able."
"Problem?"
"An opportunity," she corrected, "we've received intelligence that might provide us with a method of combating the Dark Troopers."
"Really?"
"Perhaps. Further analysis will need to be conducted and more information gathered."
"I'll be there."
"Good," she said, standing up. "Then I shall see you tomorrow."
With that, Mon Mothma strode from the room.
Kyle smiled. With everything that had happened, the prospect of a mission gave him something to focus, a goal.
Shortly after he had finished lunch, he heard Alessa's voice float in from outside the curtains. "May I come in?"
"Sure."
She stepped in. "How are you feeling?"
"A lot better. Doc might discharge me tomorrow afternoon."
"Oh Kyle!" she said, smiling at him, "that's wonderful."
"Yeah," he replied, as she settled into a chair, "Say, where's Wexter? He usually comes with you."
She rolled her eyes. "He's in the hangar bay."
"The hangar bay? But what would be doing there?"
"He saw the Moldy Crow again."
"Oh-kay," Kyle said, not sure where she was going with this, "And..?"
"Well, he's keeping his promise about not touching the ship. But you might need to call Maintenance. He's practically drooling over it."
"Ah," Kyle said, finally understanding, "I see."
She chuckled. "You should have seen him. He started by walking around the ship, stopping to examine different parts. The next thing I know, he's muttering to himself."
"Muttering? About what?"
She shook her head. "I don't really know. Most of it was gibberish to me."
"Wait a minute," Kyle said, "when did you go to the hangar bay?"
"About four hours ago," she said, smiling.
"He's been looking at the Crow for four hours?"
She nodded. "When I told him I was leaving to come see you, he told me to say hi for him, then went back to looking at the ship."
"That's… very strange."
She nodded again. "That's Wexter."
"I suppose he'll want to examine the ship before long."
"Oh, most definitely."
"I don't know…. Jan made him promise to not touch the Crow. What do you think, Alessa? Is it safe for me to let Wexter 'touch' the ship?"
She shrugged. "You know Wexter's family have been starship mechanics for generations. He's always been a good mechanic. He just tends to get a little 'excited' when he spots a ship he's never seen before."
"I see. Well, tell you what. I'll think about it."
"I'd say that's fair."
"So," Kyle asked, "what are we going to talk about today?"
"Well, actually," Alessa said, her tone slightly nervous, "I was hoping you'd tell me something about yourself."
Kyle was momentarily taken aback. Alessa and Wexter had talked so much about Alderaan and their lives there, he hadn't even considered talking about himself.
"I guess so," he replied, feeling a bit nervous that she would ask about his time at the Academy. "What do you want to know?"
"Well, back when we were in the mess hall, I asked you about your home planet.
"Sulon."
"Yes," Alessa replied, "that's it. Sulon. Would you tell me about it?"
"Sure," Kyle said, feeling relieved at her choice of topic. "Well, to begin, Sulon is an Outer Rim world. And I mean outer. The only time news reached us was when a trading vessel or other such ship would land at the spaceport. Not that I went to the spaceport very often. My mother and father owned a large farm well outside of the city. That's where I grew up."
He talked for over an hour, telling Alessa of what it was like growing up as the son of a farmer. "For a long time, all I wanted to was learn to tend the land like my father did. But he had other ideas."
Kyle told her how his father made sure he went to school and excelled in his studies. "I didn't understand it at the time. But since good grades made my father happy, I worked hard."
"What about your mother?" Alessa asked.
The smile faded from his face and his gaze dropped away.
"I'm sorry," she said immediately, "I didn't mean to…"
He held up a hand to stop her. "It's okay. I just haven't… thought about my mother in a long time."
"You don't have to talk about it, Kyle."
"No, Alessa. Really, it's okay. See, my mother was… killed."
"Killed?"
He nodded.
"Who did it?"
"Not who," he corrected, "but what. See, you have to understand. Our farm was large enough that we needed to protect ourselves against predators. My father purchased a set of used security droids to guard the perimeter of the farm. The only problem was that one of them had some faulty programming. We didn't figure that out until after."
The room went silent for a moment, then with a gasp, Alessa spoke. "One of the droids killed your mother."
Kyle nodded. "She had gone out like she did every evening after dinner to pick vegetables from a small garden she had created. The droid that happened upon her had a faulty recognition program. Somehow, it mis-identified her as one of the predators."
"Kyle," Alessa said, "I'm so sorry."
"Thanks. You should have seen my father. When we found her, he pulled out the only weapon we owned and blasted the droid. I'd never seen him so angry."
Alessa got from up from her chair and moved to the side of the bed, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"With Mother gone, things got tough for the two of us. I almost quit school a number of times. But every time, Father would convince me to go back. 'It's what your mother would have wanted,' he would say."
Kyle stopped speaking, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. Telling the story had brought back the feelings of hurt, pain and anger when his mother had died.
"I'm sorry, Kyle, Alessa offered, looking down at him, "I shouldn't have asked to talk about this."
"No!" he said fiercely, "it's not your fault. It's… just been a long time since I… thought about those times."
"Okay," she said soothingly.
"It's just that…" he looked up at her, his eyes shining, "I still miss her, Alessa."
"Of course you do," she replied, "there'd be something wrong with you if you didn't."
Kyle considered that. "I suppose you're right."
"I am," she said. "And now, I think I'd better go check on Wexter, make sure he at least eats sometime today."
They both laughed, the mood in the room a bit lighter.
"That's probably a good idea. See you two tomorrow?"
"If I can drag Wexter away from the Crow, yes."
"Okay. And Alessa?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
"Thanks? For what?"
"For coming here. For listening."
"You're welcome. I just wish our conversation hadn't upset you."
"Would you please stop that? It's done, and I'm not mad at you. So, let it go, okay?"
"Okay," she said, smiling at him. Then, on impulse, she leaned down and hugged him.
Caught by surprise, Kyle didn't move.
Letting go, Alessa stood back up.
Feeling confused, he looked up at her. "What was that for?"
"For talking to me and letting me get to know you. See you tomorrow."
She passed through the curtains, leaving him lying there still feeling confused. It occurred to him that he had enjoyed Alessa's hug. Her skin was soft and warm and he had detected a bit of perfume when she had touched him. At the same time, he felt guilty. Granted, things between him and Jan were pretty much done. But if that's true, he thought, why do I feel guilty?
True to his word, Dr. Berth discharged Kyle the next day, pronouncing him fit for duty. But rather than making Kyle wait till that afternoon, the doctor released him about mid-morning. Kyle contacted Mon Mothma, who told him to come to the briefing room in four hours. He had just finished dressing and was ready to leave when the curtains parted to admit Alessa. She was by herself again.
"Don't tell me Wexter's still ogling the Crow," Kyle asked.
"No, but he stayed up late last night writing up a bunch of notes regarding what he had seen. He finally fell asleep early this morning."
"You said he gets 'excited', not obsessive."
She shrugged.
Kyle rolled his eyes, wondering what was coming next with Wexter.
"So I see you've been discharged," Alessa observed.
"Yep. I was just getting ready to leave when you came in."
"Oh, so I guess lunch is off today."
"Well," Kyle said thoughtfully, "I was planning on going to the mess for something to eat. You hungry?"
Alessa gave him a sheepish look. "I've eaten already."
"Oh! Well that's okay. Maybe we…"
"But if you didn't mind some company," she interrupted, "I could come with you."
It took him all of a second to respond. "Sure. I'd like that."
She smiled at him.
Stepping past her, Kyle pulled aside the curtains and made a half bow.
"Why thank you, Kyle," she said sweetly.
He grinned back at her.
They had walked beside each other to the mess hall, where Kyle alternated between eating and telling Alessa of the years between his mother's death and his appointment to the Imperial Academy.
"When I think back to that day, it was like a dream. Most of us 'rimmers' figured the Academy was for Core world citizens only. So when I received the letter offering me admission, I didn't hesitate to accept. Father was so happy for me. He told me how proud he was and that I was going to get the kind of education I deserved and opportunities I couldn't yet imagine."
"Was it hard leaving home? Alessa asked.
"Not at first. But when the time to leave approached, I began to question whether I should go. For years it was Father and I, no one else. And now, it'd just be me."
"So what happened?"
Shaking his head slightly as he gave a low sigh, Kyle said, "It was Father. He kept telling how important a good education was and that the Imperial Academy was the best place to get it. He also kept saying how proud Mother would be where she there. And he said it again and again and again."
"He wore you down."
"Exactly," Kyle replied, "but the time the Academy shuttle showed up to collect me, I was determined to go just to get him to quit saying it."
Alessa laughed and he joined her, remembering the last time he had seen his Father, standing on the landing platform, a wide grin on his face and waving.
"Hey, Alessa! Kyle!" a voice called over the din in the room.
They turned to see Wexter coming across the room towards them.
"Guess he woke up," Kyle observed.
"Guess so," Alessa returned.
Sitting down heavily next to Alessa, Wexter grinned at Kyle. "Good to see you up and around. I went by sickbay looking for you both and Doctor Berth told me you'd been discharged, Kyle. You feeling okay?"
"Sure am. And just as glad to be out of sickbay."
"I can understand that," Alessa said.
"Me too," Wexter added, "Listen, Kyle, about that ship of yours…"
"Wexter," she said, putting a hand on his arm, "Kyle just got out of sickbay. He needs a little time before you ask him about the ship."
"Okay," the older man said, disappointed.
Kyle waited a moment, then laughing, said, "Go ahead, Wexter."
"Kyle…"
"It's okay, Alessa. Besides, how you can resist that face?"
She looked over at Wexter, who was trying his best to give a "puppy dog eyes" look. She laughed. "All right, Wexter, go ahead."
The older man began to speak rapidly "That ship of yours, the Moldy Crow. It looks like an old Corellian freighter design, at least ten years old I'd guess. It looks like…"
Pausing only long enough to breathe, Wexter continued for nearly forty-five minutes, telling them his impressions of the Crow
"So," he said, summing up, "I was wondering if you might let me take a closer look at it."
"I told Alessa I'd think about it, Wexter."
"And?" the older man prompted.
"And I'm still thinking."
"Well, listen Kyle," Wexter began, rapid fire, "if you're worried that I might do anything to the ship, you could be there with me and make sure I…"
The dinging sound of a communicator interrupted him.
Pulling the device from his belt, Kyle activated it. "Katarn here."
"Kyle, this is Mon Mothma. You did remember that we had a meeting?"
Shifting his eyes to a time display, Kyle's eyes went wide. He was over twenty minutes late.
"I'm on my way, Mon Mothma. Katarn out."
Quickly returning the communicator to his belt, he stood up from the table. "Sorry, but I've got to go. I'm late."
"Well maybe we can talk about the Crow later."
"Yeah, maybe," Kyle said, moving past them.
"How about dinner?"
"We'll see," Kyle called over his shoulder as he reached the mess hall doors and passed through them.
When they had closed, Alessa turned to him.
"Honestly, Wexter. The man is barely out of sickbay and you're pestering him about his ship."
"But, Alessa, this one is special."
"They all are, Wexter," she replied tiredly, "I've heard it before."
"Okay, but Alessa, if I'm right, Kyle is flying one of the classics of Corellian engineering. I'd guess the power plant must generate…"
She held up a hand to stop him. "Wexter, I've told you before I don't understand your tech talk. Now, supposing Kyle is able to have dinner with us, can you behave yourself or do I have to leave you in our quarters?"
He waited a long time before answering. "I'll try."
Mon Mothma lightly drummed her fingers on the table as she studied the report again. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. Kyle has had to deal with so much lately. But the moment of emotion was overcome by the self-control and logic that made her such a good leader.
He's the best choice, if not the only choice. A mission is exactly what Kyle needs right now to forget his problems. And, in any case, the needs of the Rebellion have to come before the needs of one person.
Still, it bothered her that she was likely going to have Kyle solo on this mission. Jan is an excellent mission officer, but I can't trust her to put aside her personal feelings right now in order to focus on the mission. As she thought on her last meeting with the young woman, Mon Mothma was even more certain that not involving Jan for the time being was the right decision.
Now, she thought, if he'd get here, I could…
As if on cue, the briefing room doors opened.
Panting with the effort of having run all the way from the mess hall, Kyle took a moment to catch his breath.
"Are you all right?"
He nodded, his breathing begin to slow.
"Sorry… I'm late…. I was…"
The Rebel leader waved a hand dismissively. "We can deal with later. If you'd join me, I need to talk with you about your next mission."
His ears perked up when Mon Mothma say, "next mission."
Moving over to the table, he sat down, forcing himself to breathe regularly.
"You could have walked, you know."
"I didn't want to be any later than I already was."
"Understandable. But, next time try a fast walk. It's a lot less strenuous." She gave him a small smile to let him know she was joking
Returning the smile, Kyle replied, "I'll remember that."
"Good. Now, take a look at this." She passed him a data pad, "it's a report from Lieutenants Aldarion and Undomiel. They have been using the Nav Card you retrieved to track the Arc Hammer."
Kyle read through the text, stopping when he came to one particular report.
"Is this confirmed?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes, it is."
"A resupply stop. And with Lord Vader's flagship no less."
"That alone tells us how important the Dark Trooper project is to the Empire, Kyle. And how important it is that we destroy it before it's too late."
"So you want me to hijack the supply ship and take it to the Arc Hammer."
"No."
"Forgive me, Mon Mothma, but what do you mean no? It puts me in a perfect position to sabotage the Arc Hammer, and destroy the Dark Troopers along with it."
"Keep reading."
Unsure what she meant, Kyle nevertheless complied. Halfway through the next page, he understood. The report text read, "Although the supply ship is a tempting target, attempt to infiltrate or hijack the vessel is not recommended. The ship is being guarded by a full squadron of TIE fighters along with a stormtrooper guard aboard the ship itself."
"Ah, I see."
"I thought you would. Keep going."
On the following page, "our listening posts intercepted a message from General Mohc to Coruscant requesting the status of weapons intended for the Dark Trooper project. An hour later, a reply was transmitted that the weapons were ready for transport. However, no vessels were currently available to carry the cargo. The next day, a message was sent via Holonet to Frenden Moxgond, leader of the smuggler gang Dark Raiders. A payment of 50,000 credits was offered to him to pick up and transport the weapons to Lord Vader aboard his flagship, Executor. The cargo will then be transferred to one of the Imperial vessels' cargo shuttles and delivered to the Arc Hammer. Moxgond replied with an affirmative and arranged to have one of ships leave for Coruscant to pick up the weapons.
"Hmmmm," Kyle mused, "I think I know where this is going."
"We'll see, Mon Mothma replied, "keep going."
"Based on our analysis of the situation," the next line read, "we believe that an operative may be able to sneak aboard the smuggler ship upon its' return to the planet Ergo. Based on what we have learned of the Dark Raiders, their ships are mostly secondhand, and consist of a less than a dozen Z-95s and transport vessels, some operated by droids. We will continue to monitor the situation and report in at the next scheduled time. Transmission ends."
"The Dark Raiders," Kyle said, "can't say I've heard the name."
"Nor had I," Mon Mothma, "but I've learned that they're mostly small time, primarily engaging in spice smuggling. Frenden Moxgond took over leadership a little less than six months ago by assassinating the former leader, a Rodian named Lux Henater."
"Nice bunch," he commented.
"Indeed. And since the Empire is clamping down on illegal spice smuggling, the Dark Raiders along with other spice smugglers have had their ships and cargoes impounded, making things increasingly tough for them. Frenden killed Henater after the Empire discovered them smuggling glitterstim to the Hutts."
"Ouch," Kyle said, imagining how that had gone.
Mon Mothma nodded. "With this contract from the Empire, Frenden will be able to solidify his hold over the gang, which has become increasingly fractious."
"And you think that with the all the backstabbing, allies turning into enemies and back room dealings, I can sneak in."
"Exactly. The plan is for you to go to Ergo and stow away aboard the smuggler vessel as soon as it returns from Coruscant."
"I see."
Mon Mothma felt sudden concern. His response had been very lukewarm. Could it be that after everything that had happened, Kyle would not accept the mission?
"Is there a problem here, Kyle?"
He waited a moment before answering. "No, not really. I was just thinking that after what happened on Coruscant, this mission seems rather dull in comparison," he finished, giving her a smile.
"Well," Mon Mothma said, shrugging her shoulders, "I'm sorry I couldn't find something more exciting for you, Kyle. If you want, I can give this mission to someone else until something more to your liking comes along."
With a bark of laughter, he said, "That's okay, I'll take this one."
"Good. Then there's only more a few more points to discuss. First, I received a fresh report about an hour ago that the smuggler ship just left Ergo today."
"I see," Kyle replied, "and what are we looking at in terms of travel time?"
"Assuming they use a hyperspace route to Coruscant and back, Intelligence is estimating five days."
"So," he replied, "I've got to cool my heels until then."
"Yes," Mon Mothma said, "Now, as to the other matter I want to discuss. With Jan in the brig through the end of month, she will be unavailable to assist you on the mission."
Kyle nodded, not trusting himself to say anything about that.
"Give her absence, you have two options for the mission. One, you select a new mission officer to go along with you and help plan the mission."
The look on his face told her right away that wouldn't work.
"Or," she continued, "option two. You go in solo, with no backup."
That option sat no better with Kyle than the idea of another mission officer.
Mon Mothma waited, giving him the time to think it over.
"Let's go with the second option," he decided, "But with one small addition. Assign me a pilot to fly the Crow to Ergo, drop me off, then fly the Crow back here.
"That leaves you with no way back here once your mission is complete." Mon Mothma objected.
Kyle shrugged. "It's not like I'll be able to have the Crow with me, it's too recognizable. Besides, after that long ride to the Executor, I'm sure the Empire won't mind if I 'borrow' a ship to come back in."
"Borrow?" Mon Mothma said, lifting an eyebrow.
"Hmmmm, maybe that isn't the right word. It's not I'm planning on returning the ship. How about re-direction of vital resources?
"It will do for now," Mon Mothma, a smile tugging at her lips even as she felt a laugh bubbling up inside. "By the way, what is the status of the Crow?
Kyle sighed, his smile fading. "Since the last firefight, everything seems okay. All major systems are functioning."
"But?"
"But," Kyle said, "Well, even on a good day, the Crow can be…"
He paused, rethinking the term he was about to use.
"… quite a temperamental ship. Jan and I have tried to repair it, but it's like we fix one thing and something else malfunctions. It's been very frustrating."
"Have you tried talking to any of the mechanics?"
He nodded. "More than once. They've tried, but had no more luck than we did. The biggest problem is that, because the Crow is an older model, no one is rated on the design. However…" Kyle trailed off, immediately regretting that last word.
"However what, Kyle?" Mon Mothma prompted.
"It's nothing, really," he said, trying to cover.
"Kyle," she said in a no-nonsense tone.
"Well," he replied, "that friend of Jan's, Wexter, has been asking me if he could have a look at the Crow.
"Wexter," Mon Mothma said, "I remember him. We met earlier concerning Jan."
Kyle nodded.
"Is he a ship mechanic?"
"No idea. Alessa told me his family has been in starship mechanics for many years. I…"
"Wait," Mon Mothma said, holding up a hand, "you said Wexter. Not Wexter Wayfarer?"
"Yes, that's him."
"Well," she said, a bit reverently, "this is a surprise."
"Ma'am?" he asked, confused.
"Kyle, the Wayfarer family have been known as some of the best ship mechanics in the galaxy, even back in the days of the Old Republic. Back before the rise of the Empire, the Republic would regularly send ships to Alderaan to have the Wayfarers look them over."
"So I guess you're saying I shouldn't hesitate to have Wexter take a look at the Crow."
"Exactly."
"Well, okay then. As soon we're done here, I'll let him know."
"Good," Mon Mothma replied, "and make sure you have your gear assembled. Once we learn that the pirates have returned to their base, we will need to move quickly."
"Understood," Kyle said, "I'll be ready."
"Very well," she said, rising from her chair, "then I'd say we're done. Dismissed."
Chair scraping against the deck, Kyle pushed back from the table and headed for the door. He smiled to himself, imagining the look on Wexter's face when he told him.
Eyes going wide, mouth dropping open, Wexter stared back at him in stunned surprise.
"Did you just say what I think you said?"
Glancing over at Alessa, who wore a similarly stunned expression, Kyle winked. Then, to Wexter he said, "Yes, I did. I just cleared it with Mon Mothma herself."
The look of surprise on Wexter's face transformed into a wide smile. He reached out his hand. "Thank you, Kyle."
Shaking the older man's hand, Kyle said, "Just promise me that you'll be careful. That ship's been good to me."
"Oh, don't worry," Wexter replied, wringing his hands in anticipation, "I'll take good care of the Crow, trust me. That ship of yours is a classic. I can't wait to see what it's got under the hood."
Turning around, he started walking away, then turned back to Kyle and Alessa. "Um, would you two mind if I skipped dinner?"
A long silence followed, Kyle waiting for Alessa to speak. But although her eyes were looking in his direction, they were unfocused.
"Alessa?" Kyle waved a hand in front of her.
The vacant look vanished in an instant and she blinked several times.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "lost in thought for a moment. What did you say, Wexter?"
The older man frowned at her, his look of concern mirroring Kyle's. "I wanted to make sure it was okay with you if I wasn't at dinner tonight since I'll probably be working on the Crow. But first, are you all right?"
"Oh yes," she answered quickly, smiling up at Wexter, "I'm fine. I was just thinking."
"Okay," Wexter replied, not entirely convinced, "then about dinner…"
"Yes, yes, that's fine. Go and work on the ship. I know how you get involved. Maybe we'll see you later."
"Okay then, I'll see you later."
As Wexter moved away, Kyle returned his focus to Alessa.
"So, as you can see, my meeting with Mon Mothma went very well. Did you know that Wexter's family had a reputation as ship mechanics? Gotta say it surprised me. I had no idea. Anyway, I also found out that…"
The vacant look was in place again. Had she heard anything he had just said?
"Alessa?" he said, raising his voice slightly.
The light came back into her eyes and she turned to look at him.
"Yes?"
"Something's wrong with you. What is it?"
"Nothing," she said, looking away as she spoke. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, just now as I was telling you about my meeting with Mon Mothma, you looked like you were a million light years away."
"I was just thinking."
"It looked like more than that. Did something happen while I was gone?"
"No," she said, then did a slow, languid stretch followed a yawn that was clearly faked. "I am feeling a bit tired though. I'm going to go rest."
"All right," he said, tempted to ask her about dinner. But right now didn't seem like the right time to mention it.
He watched as she stood up and headed for the exit. Her outfit, consisting of a long sleeve shirt of white, pleated turquoise and matching vest only adding to her beauty. Still, the visual feast was tempered by his knowledge that something was bothering Alessa.
So what do I do about it?
Easy, Katarn, a part of his mind said, follow her.
Moving blindly through the corridors of the New Hope, Alessa fought the urge to run.
Her heart pounded painfully inside her chest. She fought back the tears that threatened to come.
The ache she felt was nearly as physical as it was mental.
Just when it seemed that everything had settled down, coming aboard the Rebel ship, finding Jan, meeting Kyle. Things had been going so well. And now…
Coming around a corner, she noticed a large view port in a far corner. It was dark there, dark enough to hide in. Stepping up to the transparisteel bubble, Alessa crouched in the darkness and let the tears come.