11: Landfall
"What… do you want?" Princess Kaori asked harshly. She sat on the bench of her cell, staring at the wall. She hadn't moved from that spot since the immolation of Alderaan, eyes stony and withdrawn, mouth drawn tight, face pale. She didn't even turn as Grand Moff Kimura entered with a guard and a tray of hypodermics.
"We've been over this, Kaorin…" Kimura said in a patient, cajoling tone she couldn't stand. "But now there's something else."
Kaori didn't respond.
"The Professor." Kimura watched her carefully for a reaction, but there was none.
"You mean the shadowy head of the Rebellion?" she asked softly. "The secret puppet-master that coordinates all of its branches and guides its overall strategy to topple the Empire?"
"Yes."
She laughed bitterly. "And then would you like to ask me where Santa Claus is? Or what about Lord Nyax?"
"I hate to do this to you, but I don't have much time." Kimura selected a hypodermic from the guard's tray. "Don't make this any harder for yourself."
Kaori felt a slight twinge of fear—she was a little worried that the Moff would try to take more than answers from her if she were drugged. However, she put up a brave front. "Do whatever you want. You've already killed my world; how could you hurt me any more?"
Kimura opened his mouth to answer but his communicator chirped. "We need you on the bridge," came the voice of a young officer.
"I'm busy!" the Moff replied angrily.
"It's important, sir."
He hissed, then thrust the hypodermic into the guard's hand. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" he ordered, and stalked away. The guard looked after him oddly; evidently, he'd been thinking along the same lines as Kaori. He turned to the Princess and assured her, "We'll, ah, we'll stick to the drugs and interrogation."
She held out her arm.
"They came out of hyperspace here," the technician said, indicating a point on his board. "One ship- they ran it downstairs, it's that freighter that blasted its way out of Mos Eisley. Now, as soon as they appeared, they took off along this line, ignoring our warning shots…"
Kimura nodded absently. He couldn't honestly see what they needed him for. So a ship had ignored their blockade of Alderaan and run off. So what?
"We pegged 'em right here," the tech continued, "But they made it into hyperspace anyway."
"So we've lost them," Kimura said, annoyed. "They could be anywhere. Why did you call for me?"
"They're, ah, they're leaking atmosphere and propellant," his subordinate said apologetically. "We calculated that the only habitable planet they could reach is, ah," he hit a few buttons, "Here. SRS-174. We thought that you'd want to send a search party or something."
"If they're stuck there, why do we care?"
"Because… well, Lord Nochichi was trying to find those plans, r-right?" the poor fellow was practically wilting under the noble's gaze. "The Intelligence boys said that they might be on that ship."
"Hmm…" Kimura tapped the panel, "SRS-174, eh? Is there anything there?"
"Nothing to make it worth colonizing. Cold climate, forested. Pretty pedestrian. They won't find any help there, if that's what you're concerned about."
"Well, good work," the Moff said grudgingly. "I will take it into consideration."
"Thank you, sir."
SRS-174 was one of those barely-habitable planets where the summer was like autumn and the winter was like Hell. The sky was perpetually gray, as was the bark of the tough, stringy trees that covered most of its surface. Shockingly bright birds and insects flitted through this bleak landscape, more than a few disgruntled by the recent violent disturbance to their peaceful home.
The Red Spirit ticked and cooled at the end of a kilometers-long trench. Like those of its crew, it was a lot tougher than it at first appeared. Even after getting shot, dragged wounded through hyperspace and hurled through an uncooperative atmosphere into a rough landscape, it was still in pretty good shape. The Captain and First Mate stood outside, examining the long, ugly turbolaser scar across its side.
"Oh, no!" Tomo lamented, "It's shot all to hell! What are we gonna do?"
"Shut up," Yomi said. "All we have to do is fix the hyperdrive and we'll be good to go. You should calm down."
"Oh." The captain turned as Sakaki emerged from the vessel, as totally unconcerned as if they had made a perfect landing, and looked around. "I hope we're getting reimbursed for this, you!"
"I'll quintuple your fee," the Jedi replied distantly. Her mind was obviously elsewhere.
"Whoa! Yomi, did you hear that?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe we should get shot at more often!"
"You idiot…"
A short ways away, Kagura and Chiyo sat at the base of a tree. Kagura slapped her on the back. "C'mon you have to admit, that was quite a rush, wasn't it?"
"A… rush?" Chiyo was still trembling and her eyes still weren't focusing properly. "You call that a…?"
"Don't worry, it's just a little trauma," Kagura reassured, snapping her fingers in the girl's face. "You'll be right as rain in a little bit. Either that or you're scarred for life and never able to travel in a pink starship ever again."
"What?"
"Never mind. Just don't worry about it, okay?"
Sakaki walked up and sat cross-legged before them. "Are you alright, Chiyo-chan?"
"Y-yeah… never better," she said, shaking her head rapidly. She didn't want to admit that she'd never been in space before this trip… and what a lousy introduction this had been. From that day forward, Chiyo would always have a certain aversion to spaceflight.
"Good. Now that we have time and room, we can start your lightsaber training."
"My--?"
"Shouldn't we help repair the ship?" Kagura asked.
"Ms. Yomi won't let anybody else touch it," Chiyo said, suddenly showing no trace of trauma. "And they've warped the design so far I don't think we could help anyway." Sakaki almost smiled a little—there it was again. It was amazing how that girl shed herself when she had something to explain.
"Lightsaber training already," Kagura commented. "She's letting you do the fun stuff first!"
Sakaki's looked somewhat amused by that. It was not a good sign.
So it was that Chiyo found herself about a hundred yards from the Red Spirit, holding her father's lightsaber out awkwardly. Sakaki withdrew a small orb from her pack and tossed it into the air, where it caught itself with a puff of air and drifted at the ready.
"The remote will shoot at you," Sakaki explained simply. "You have to block it."
"What does it shoot?" Chiyo asked. "Darts? Pellets?" A bolt from the remote lashed past her leg and blew a sizable crater in the ground. "AAAHH!"
"Sorry," Sakaki said, taking the remote out of the air, "I still had it set for myself." She fiddled with it for a moment, then held it out at arms length and let it shoot a bolt into her hand. "That's better."
It popped back towards Chiyo and she flinched away from it. "Are you ready for this?" the remote said in an abrasive recorded voice.
"Don't let it distract you," Sakaki advised.
"I'll try—ow!" Chiyo hopped on one foot for a second.
"That's the wrong attitude."
"Then what--? Ow!"
"Ooooh!" the remote jeered, "You like that, don't you! Oooh! Take it!"
"Ow! Master Sakaki, can we turn that—ah! off?"
"It's part of the exercise. Ignore it."
"Yeah! Feel the pain!" the remote howled.
"Ouch! Son of a--!"
"You know," Kagura said, "I feel kinda bad for enjoying this so much."
Sakaki nodded slightly, wincing as her student took another bolt. She didn't quite feel the same way, but nevertheless felt compelled to say, "You should stay for the blindfold, then."
"Better and better…"
