Maintaining mental sharpness through the lengthy hyperspace trip any way he could, Wil occasionally stole a careful glance out from behind his shadowed hiding spot in the ship's rear hold, keeping an eye on the oblivious droid pilot in the cockpit ahead. His furry companion Phantom at his side kept a silent vigil, too, her fluffy tail twitching faintly as the only sign of her intense focus. He wasn't sure where exactly they were headed, as he had kept himself tucked away well before their jump, but something helped him stay...perfectly patient, wholly confident that he was on the correct path. Perhaps it was the Force; he'd just learned he potentially had a connection to it, after all, and maybe it was preparing him ahead of time for what he'd need to do to rescue his father and Master Natiyr, wherever they were. Whatever they'd gotten caught up in, Wil was going to bring them home. He owed them both that much.
A noticeable slow in the engines' rumbling roar signaled the end of the hyperspace jump, and though it was risky, Wil eased himself around the bulkhead to get just a small glimpse of their location. The viewport up ahead completely filled with the darkened side of a lush, tranquil planet, but Bex was quick to navigate around it, headed instead for a small station floating beside an inert moon. The station had no noticeable logos or identifying characteristics, but its state of partial decay with a seemingly brand new communications relay recently mounted on it gave the otherwise forgettable structure an eerie, sinister appearance, and it filled Wil with dread.
With his scomp link still plugged in and piloting the ship, Bex gave a few beeps and spurts, snapping Wil's attention back inside the ship. He crouched down to quickly hide, afraid the droid had spotted him, but another voice filled the hold instead.
"You're too early," a gruff response sounded from the comm. "We're not due another shipment of tibanna for a few days. Your circuits must be fried."
Bex answered with an equally grouchy tone, angrily spouting a number of blips and whistles to express his displeasure. The other voice gave a low grumble as he sighed.
"No, don't send a report... Fine, you can land in the hangar, but you're on your own for offloading. Follow the schedule next time and maybe you won't have to do it all yourself."
Bex fired off an equally snappy retort as he closed the comm channel, landing the ship inside the station's hangar and powering it down within a few short minutes. Giving Phantom a brief look before he stood again, Wil watched as Bex unplugged himself from the console and rolled through the hold to the loading ramp that extended from the middle section of the ship. The droid seemed almost...hesitant to leave, his silver dome turning back and forth slightly as he studied and listened to the hangar outside intently. Wil held his breath to cotinue masking his presence until Bex finally rolled out into the hangar, albeit slowly. Wil glanced at Phantom again, pressing a finger to his lips to emphasize their ongoing need for stealth, before he, too, made his way out of the ship, carefully studying his new surroundings as he ducked around behind it.
Only a few small shuttles like the one they'd just landed in were scattered about the hangar, and a number of stacked cargo crates were the only other occupants Wil could see. So where had Bex gone so quickly? The main doors leading into the station hadn't opened or closed that he had heard, and there was no other movement within the hangar; what exactly was Bex up to?
A heavy, resounding boom echoed about the hangar suddenly, and Wil couldn't help his curiosity. He edged himself around the ship's aft engines, keeping Phantom behind him, and at first he wasn't certain what exactly it was that he was watching. A repulsor sled was being loaded with crates, the loud noise a result of one being roughly stacked on top of another. More crates were being moved and settled onto the sled, loudly, by Bex himself, Wil was finally able to see, but either no one heard the commotion or no one cared. No alarms sounded, and no one came to investigate, even as Bex began to drive the sled towards the containment field. He sped faster and faster the closer he got to it - eventually screeching to a halt just in front of it, one robotic arm clutching the sled rail and sending the crates hurtling through the field into open space with their momentum. Their trajectory would quickly send them crashing to the surface of Rishi's moon, destroying them in a disatrous crash, but why? What was in those crates that Bex was so intent on getting rid of?
Wil watched the busy droid stack and similarly dispose of four more sleds full of crates, all without earning the attention of whoever it was that had cleared him to land at the station in the first place. The hangar had become dangerously empty, save for the other shuttles that remained, so Wil knew he would have fewer choices when he needed to hide. He continually kept an eye out for guards coming into the hangar from any direction, but he and Phantom and Bex remained its only occupants. Seemingly satisfied with his work, Bex paused a moment after sending the last sled into space, turning his dome in Wil's direction. Wil edged himself behind the ship they'd arrived in, concealing himself from Bex's ocular sensor for a long moment, until the droid finally seemed satisfied and rolled himself onwards into the station. He appeared to know where he was going, and again, a strange yet familiar sensation urged Wil to follow him.
He had to keep a healthy distance, though, as he chased the droid through the station's silent, empty corridors. Phantom's soft paw steps at his side were the only sounds he heard, heightening his anxiety as he gripped his blaster pistol even tighter in his hand. The further they wound through the station's maze of hallways, the more Wil began to notice a faint burning, ashy smell in the air mixed with the sharp snap of ozone from some kind of electrical discharge. The smell both intensified and diminished as they continued, puzzling him. Bex eventually turned down one hall and suddenly fired off a rapid succession of excited chirps and whistles, apparently no longer concerned that he was giving his position away...
"I know those beeps," a rough, weak male voice responded through Bex's ongoing happy chatter. "Bex, buddy... Glad to see you. Perfect timing."
The voice was...incredibly familiar, stopping Wil in his place, but he couldn't determine why. He could only listen intently from his position around the corner.
"Did you...did you dispose of those crates? Like I asked?" Bex beeped in affirmation. "Everything out of the hangar?" Another yes. "Good. I don't think that's all of them...but that's a good start. We can work on getting the rest on our way out."
Bex whirred and chirped some more, but the man's response was halted by pained grunts and moans as he breathed in choked spurts to endure some kind of agony. Bex whined as the man recovered.
"Yeah... I'm okay, buddy. Don't worry." He caught his breath a moment more before continuing. "You brought Wil with you, right?"
Wil's heart dropped to his stomach. Had he heard his name correctly? How did he know? Had he not been as stealthy as he'd thought?
Bex sounded just as bewildered, though, but the man simply gave a light laugh. "Yes, you did bring him. You were supposed to. He was supposed to follow you." Another round of confused beeps from Bex went unanswered. "It's alright, Wil," the man called to him instead. "You can come over here."
Against his better judgment, Wil released a slow breath as he stepped around the corner, bringing his blaster up before him as a precaution. Phantom moved closely against his ankle, her eyes sharply focused, her muscles tense and prepared to pounce to his defense, but...he only saw Bex in the hallway ahead? Where was the man he had heard?
Bex spun his dome to look at a containment field along the corridor. There were three fields separating small cells that Wil saw, and cautiously stepping closer, he looked in the one Bex was closest to and met the most familiar eyes gazing up at him...
The man hadn't even fully picked himself up from the floor, clearly weakened and injured by something before Wil had arrived, but he gave Wil a small comforting smile all the same. "It's good that you're cautious," he nodded to approve of Wil's weapon, "but it's okay. I'm your cousin, Max Redgrave."
Wil stared blankly. He knew Max was telling the truth, having already recognized the family resemblance in their shared eyes, but Wil was certain that he knew the Sheridan's voice before he'd even seen his face. How was that even possible?
"Bex told me you had some...memory loss after you'd been injured on Dantooine," Max began, eager to remedy Wil's confusion. "You and I have been talking for...several months now. I just never told you who I was. I knew that you and your father had been looking for me, so I approached you as a neutral informant and fed you small leads...just enough to keep you at a safe distance."
Breathless, Wil swallowed a dry lump in his throat. A connection to his father's family, a bridge Wil had been so desperate to build to win back his father's favor...had been stringing him along and intentionally blocking him from doing so. The memories of their frequent correspondence returned to him in a flood, bringing back the ongoing feelings of failure and fruitless effort and fear of disappointing his father further, briefly drowning him. After a moment, though, one clear image surfaced in his mind and held his attention. He saw the sudden instruction he'd gotten to save his sister and the coordinates of her location...and the message had come from the same familiar sender.
"...you're the one who warned me to protect Jewel."
Max nodded weakly. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you fast enough. I didn't mean for you to - - " Cut off by an extreme and sudden pain, Max's body collapsed and contracted, curling him up on his side as something tightened his muscles mercilessly. He struggled to breathe for several seconds, but the episode released him just as quickly, leaving him breathless. Worried, Wil holstered his blaster at his side and punched at the cell's control panel to lower the containment field. He stepped inside and knelt in front of his cousin, eager to assess him.
"Max? What is it, what's wrong?"
Shakily sitting up with Wil's assistance, Max shook his head. "It's alright, it's just...something leftover from whatever Azira did to me. It's actually getting better."
Wil could hardly breathe himself. "Azira? You were captured by a Huxnel operative?"
"Not just any operative...she was an admiral, and she's had it out for your dad for a while. She has him and Master Natiyr here, too."
"Where? Where are they!"
Max shook his head. "I'm not sure. She might have taken your dad to the same place she had me, one of her interrogation chambers." He looked up at Bex who was dutifully keeping watch in the hall. "Do you still have that map of this place, Bex?"
Bex gave a swift whistle as he rolled forward and projected a detailed map in the air before them. Max pointed quickly to a row of rooms not far from where they currently sat. "There. Just be careful, she'll have a few guards with her if she's actively...interrogating him. Bex, you go with him to get Horatio. I'll find Master Natiyr, and we'll meet back in the hangar. Okay?"
Though Wil wanted nothing more than to leave to find his father immediately, he couldn't help but feel that splitting up wasn't their best course of action, especially considering Max's obviously poor physical state. "What about you? How are you going to find your way around?"
Max pulled his sleeve up to reveal a wrist comm hidden on his arm. "Azira's guards weren't too thorough. I've got a map on here, too, and I can communicate to you through Bex, and vice versa."
"You should still have some help with you, too," Wil countered, releasing a slow breath. "Phantom," he addressed his furry companion, "go with Max. You take good care of him, and Master Natiyr."
Stepping up to accept her new assignment, Phantom brushed her body against Max's leg before she sat beside him, alert and prepared for the next phase of the rescue op. Max smiled appreciatively at his new helper, nodding as he stood with Wil's aid.
"Wil," Max warned before they parted, still gripping Wil's arm with surprising strength. "...stay as far away as you can from anyone with a blaster rifle here. Azira has modified the bolts to fire a dangerous explosive charge, and you don't want to be anywhere near them when they detonate. I had Bex destroy the crates that were ready for shipment in the hangar, but she'll have more." He paused, his voice strained and weak. "She's not afraid to use them, even inside her own station... She already killed my brother with one as a demonstration. So get to your father, quickly, then get down to the hangar so we can get out of here. I won't be far behind you with Master Natiyr."
Nodding with solemn understanding, Wil agreed, pulling his blaster back out of its holster as he turned with Bex. "May the Force be with us."
"We'll definitely take all the help we can get."
