Star Wars:
Of Heart and Beskar
By Kristopher Rose
Chapter III
Ki-Adi-Mundi proved to be very, very good at Dejarick. He quickly trounced both Dalen and Mesh'la a huge smile plastered on his face. The others, including Mace began to relax a bit and were smiles and conversations. The four teens were inquisitive, as only those kept all their lives in a lab could be. Mesh'la's face though, was unreadable under her beskar helmet.
"We're dropping out at the edge of the Dantooine System," Dalen called from the cockpit. "Let's hope he less desirables aren't patrolling around here."
"You four stay here," Mesh'la told them as she headed toward the cockpit. "Enjoy yourselves, you'll be safe in no time."
As she entered the cockpit, she picked up on a tenseness in Dalen's posture. He was hyper focused on the screen in front of him. He waived her to the copilot's seat next to him. She kept her hand near her blaster, better to be prepared if this was a trap. It wasn't though, as she finally caught onto what he was looking at.
Ahead, around Dantooine was a type of star destroyer that she didn't recognize. It wasn't one of the old Imperial class ones, that the Empire had in spades. Nor was it one of the smaller frigates, that would still be deadly to their ship. No, this one kept the same aesthetic, but just taken to the net level. She wasn't aware of the New Republic bringing back the design, content with their Starhawks and reclaimed Star Destroyers.
"They aren't sending out New Republic signals," Dalen told her. "I'm going to keep my distance, see the lay of the land."
Mesh'la nodded, and kept an eye on the ship. From the planet's surface several landing craft blasted back into orbit. She counted four in total, little streaks of light and she could almost make out what looked like weapon's fire. That bit was confirmed as the computer registered three Z-95's chasing. Four more lights lit up, as the starfighters from the star destroyer leapt into action against the Z-95's.
"I think we just walked in on a fight," Dalen said as he started to plug coordinates in.
"Hold it!" Mesh'la called. "I need to get down to that planet."
Dalen smiled as she pulled the yoke around, sending the Thunderbird rocketing to a nearby moon. Proficiently he pulled into the satellite's gravity well, and used that to slingshot away. Keeping the moon between them and the star destroyer, he hoped to keep the larger ship from becoming aware of them.
"Well sweetheart, my gut says that is a fight we don't want to be in," he said, pushing the throttle to go faster. "Can you contact your people? Because we're diverting."
Mesh'la wanted to object, but a new noise invaded the cockpit. The klaxon blared, alerting them that they were being targeted. A quick look showed four TIE fighters on an intercept course. Dalen immediately changed course and began to weave. Which became very important as green blasts shot past them.
"Freighter, this is First Order Destroyer, Overlord. Power down and we'll be by for you in just a moment," the very proud, and authoritative voice said.
"Friends of yours?" Dalen looked perplexed. "What is a First Order?'
Mesh'la shook her head, "No, some of my clan have reported encounters with them. I would not suggest we not stick around."
Dalen checked the hyperdrive calculations, just a few more minutes. He just needed to dodge the fighters. He went to power up the weapons, but instead thought to put that power into the shields. They would hold, but he didn't want to take too many hits. Back in the hold he could hear the kids start to nervously talk.
Flipping the intercom on, "This is your captain speaking. Please remain seated and strapped in. It's about to get a little bumpy."
Outside the four ties flew in formation, taking aim at the freighter's engines. The first few shots miss, as the freighter bucked and weaved in a haphazard fashion. The wingman of the lead, managed to land a hit, but it was absorbed by the shields, still rocking the inhabitants of the freighter.
By now the star destroyer was giving chase, and its engines were quickly pushing it through space. The standard tactic was to have the fighters harry and disable the craft, while the destroyer would come to tractor it in. Gunners onboard trained their weapons, especially the ion cannons. The captain of the ship held a wolfish grin, knowing soon the Galaxy would know order again.
Then the freighter disappeared, jumping to Hyperspace. Leaving the captain to scowl, and for underlings to make themselves very, very sparce. Meanwhile the captain ordered the TIES back in, and a full report be ready immediately. Still, what danger could one tiny ship be? The New Republic still considered the First Order a minor thing, and not the proper enemy they had become.
The Thunderbird reentered space just outside an asteroid belt. Dalen flipped the ship around and started to follow a predetermined pathway. It was as they entered the asteroids that Mesh'la thought he had lost his mind. However, he just held up a finger, and gently guided the vessel.
"Don't worry, been here a few times. Welcome to Salvation Station," Dalen said. "Protected by the asteroid field causing your panic right now, you have to know the way in. I do, and they know me," he explained. "Once we get to the station, you should be able to contact your 'friends.' Who are whatever they are."
The Mandalorian caught sight of the station, a weathered looking place, one that looked ripe with history. It looked well used, and she questioned how long it had been sitting here. Despite herself, she found her curiosity overtaking her caution.
"How long has it been here?" she asked.
Dalen shrugged, "Well before the Clone Wars, I'd say. Nobody can give me a clear answer, but they say it could be centuries old. Recently the riff raff was chased off."
"I see," she said, figuring there was more to this story.
Which, Dalen quickly informed her was very true, "Yeah, if you listen to the inhabitants, a Jedi came and brought the New Republic. Chase away all the criminals and gangs that had been holding it hostage. Now, its run by a trust, they're nearly as corrupt, but sometimes as infuriating. Took me ages to get access, and shipping privileges. Apparently, lone operators like myself are liable to be 'smugglers.' Insulting if you ask me."
"You're not?" Mesh'la turned, her helmet hiding her incredulous expression.
Dalen laugh, "Of course not, here I'm just and upstanding citizen."
"And on Corellia?" she shot back.
He gave her a boyish grin, "What I need to be on Corellia. Come, we'll be docking in bay 98. Why do you try to use the holo terminal in the back, we should be in range of the station's amplifier."
She gave him a double take, but couldn't any ulterior motive in his actions or words. Heading back to where the kids were, she saw they were all a bit shaken, nervous. She smiled, only to realize a half second later that they couldn't see it. Then she went to remove her helmet, but thought better of it. She still wasn't sure of Dalen. Instead she gave them a few words of comfort, before tuning the holo terminal.
"Mesh'la, it is good to see you well," another Mandalorian appeared in hologram form. "However, this is not a good time, are you near Dantooine?"
"My transport just jumped from there, we were chased by a star destroyer," she relayed. "What is going on?"
"This First Order attacked, many families have lost children in this raid," the other Mandalorian continued. "We thought they were coming for material, but once we saw them taking children, the clan acted."
"They were there for the children?! What for?" Mesh'la couldn't hide her surprise.
"Unknown, but now we need to move on," the other Mandalorian explained. "The locals are aware of us now, we'll be looking for a new home. We'll leave word with a contact on neutral stations for you, when we have settled. Right now, lay low and try not to draw attention."
"What happened to the Z-95's?" she asked, fearing the answer she would get.
The other Mandalorian delivered the news with no inflection, "Destroyed. They were brave. Where are you now?"
"Some place called Salvation Station, ran into a snag with my last job," Mesh'la went on. "Picked up some passengers."
"Be safe then, we'll add the station to our list. Check with Vette at the Church of the Force there, she's a friend."
"Strange place, but these are strange times," Mesh'la nodded. "Be true to the Way, and we'll meet again."
"This is the Way," the other Mandalorian said as the holo call ended.
Behind her, relaxed steps, heavier than the teens she rescued. Quickly she turned, hand at her blaster pistol, and flamethrower pointed forward. She relaxed when it turned out to be Dalen. To his credit, the pilot put his hands up in mock surrender. This one was cool under pressure, indeed.
"Little wound up aren't you? I hear there is a place even one such as you can unwind," Dalen said with as he opened the boarding ramp.
All six left this ship, with the four teens quickly overwhelmed by the station's environment. Mesh'la hadn't wanted to leave them on the ship, and stuck by them like a protective bodyguard. Dalen meanwhile was strutting towards the hanger manager, quickly exchanging pleasantries and requests.
Other ships hissed, as gases escaped and cooled. Maintenance workers and droids work on said ships, with clanging tools and loosed curses. Loaders whirred by, taking their cargo to destinations on some of those ships. Astromech droids trundled by, assisting the loaders and talking in their electronic beeping language.
Aayla's eyes were wide with wonder. She wanted to reach out and touch the trundling droids, but pulled back her hand. Beside her, Mace grabbed her hand comfortingly. Depa and Ki-Adi-Mundi both stuck close to Mesh'la, even as the pilot turned around and gave them gentle smiles. This was all a bit overwhelming for them, going from imprisoned, to running from place to place.
In truth the teens were spent, but feared falling behind. Luckily their guardians picked up on that, and quickly found them a quaint local restaurant. Run by two Zeltrons, with two Toydarians flitting around as the servers. Mesh'la paid, while Dalen flirted up with the female Zeltron. Later Mesh'la found out that her meal was discounted because of this, which made her rethink her impression of the spacer.
Soon the four kids were out in the booth, leaning on each other. Mesh'la watched them, feeling very protective. Gingerly she reached out and rubbed her thumb against their foreheads. So young, and what were those lab coats doing to them? She still had the data stick, and it would be a good idea to get it to her client.
"Is there a holo terminal around here that I can use?" she asked the Toydarian server, as he flitted back around.
"Oh yes! One right over there on the wall, much privacy," the server replied.
Mesh'la flipped the Toydarian some credits, "Keep an eye on them, they don't leave before I get back. Am I clear?"
"Much clear, very clear," the server smiled. "We Toydarians are very trustworthy, especially when paid."
"Remember that," she said as she extricated herself from the booth, before turning to Dalen. "I'll be back. And thank you."
She left the stunned spacer, and made her way over to the holo terminal. To prove the Toydarian right, when she activated it a dampening field surrounded her. It tinted around her keeping those on the outside from seeing who she was talking to, and all the ambient noise disappeared. Almost total privacy, the best she could hope for in a place like this. Mesh'la took a quick look back, seeing the kids and the spacer still at the table. Depa had woken up and was confidently engaging the spacer in conversation. The Mandalorian shook her head, kids would be kids, no matter their circumstances.
"My favorite Mandalorian," the distorted voice said. "Was your mission a success?"
"I have the data, but there were complications," Mesh'la explained. "I can probably upload it here."
"That wouldn't be the four teens that escaped the complex with you, would it?" the voice asked. "I'm very well informed, Mandalorian, but I need the evidence you collected. Send the data now, and I'll upload the credits to your account."
"There you go," she said as she plugged the data stick into terminal. "What about the kids?"
The voice seemed to lighten a bit, which was hard to discern to how distorted it was, "I have some friends, they can make sure those kids are safe, at least give them a chance to choose their own destiny."
"Very well," she absently said. What she knew of her client was limited, and she didn't want to possibly put them into the hands of others that might mistreat them.
The client's voice changed, "I've seen that look before, my friends aren't a danger to them. They can give them a better life. I'll tell them that you are there. Just meet with them, and if you're not sure, you hold onto the kids. However, your life is not one suited for taking care of kids, even older ones."
"We'll see," Mesh'la responded. "Transfer is complete."
"Payment is also completed, Mandalorian," the voice said. "Good journeys, and I may have work for you in the future. It has been a pleasure."
