Flight

- Carth Onasi -


"Dad. There's a Jedi at the hatch."

I looked over at the co-pilot's console to see the image of a scowling human. Dustil had brought up the vid-feed outside the Hawk's entrance. It was low-res, but the brown robe and look of annoyed expectation on the stranger's face was enough to give the impression of someone confident of immediate entrance. If we hadn't already had to ward off two separate groups of Czerka staff trying to slice in and pinch a freighter they no doubt hoped was empty, I might have opened the hatch.

"Do you recognize him?"

"I'm not exactly best buddies with all the frakking robes, Dad," Dustil complained. He'd been snarky with me ever since I'd sealed him inside the Ebon Hawk. Although, frankly, after he'd vanished from both the Wookiee village and the Republic freighter earlier, I didn't feel I had much choice.

I'd thought my son was dead for the last four years. Since he refused to travel with the Jedi, I was going to make damn sure that I at least knew where he was.

"But y'know, the lightsaber in his hand kinda gives it away," Dustil muttered. I looked again, and saw a deactivated metal rod in the old human's grasp. The stranger leaned forward, and rapped on the hatch door.

There's Dark Jedi on Kashyyyk. The thought chilled me, not for the first time. Dustil had, at least, relayed Mission's comm'd report. Mission, who'd somehow ended up in the Shadowlands captured by Mandalorians. And Jen- who'd been captured by Dark Jedi.

I hated this. Being left topside, with Jen not answering any of my comms, with nothing to do but keep the engines warm and be browbeaten by senior officers, while those I cared about ran into danger and I couldn't do a blasted thing.

Something had happened to Jen. She'd extricated herself from danger, I understood that much, but something had happened to cause this radio silence. We had the nav data - she'd succeeded in the quest for the Star Map, and that should be reason to celebrate. But instead, all I felt was deep unease.

Why hasn't she been answering?

Another robed figure, this one less than half the height of the grumpy looking human, hobbled into view of the vid-feed. I recognized that one with a frown. Vandar.

And hadn't that meeting been fun.

The small office in the Republic freighter was enough to give the illusion of privacy, but I didn't trust the communication link to be secure. Encrypted, yes, through Republic channels. But I'd spent the last few hours being grilled by Commodore Tar'coya, a stony-eyed Sullustan who'd run through my debrief multiple times before thoroughly criticizing every action of mine since leaving Taris. I wouldn't put it past him to listen in.

The holo-image of Admiral Forn Dodonna was staring at me patiently, awaiting an answer.

I repeated the same words I'd told Tar'coya at least three times. "The last I heard from Jen Sahara, she and Master Zhar had found a contact in the Shadowlands and were on their way to the Star Map. All going well, Admiral, we should have the Map soon."

::Good. I am sure Tar'coya has relayed your orders, Carth. As soon as the Star Map is located, gather your entire crew and dock with the Meridus.::

"Yeah, I got that, Admiral." I did my best to sound respectful. Considering my history with Dodonna, it was more difficult than it should have been.

But I'd spent the last few months jumping from one desperate situation to another, while we pulled off the near-impossible. And now, I had a Core-bred Commodore treating me like an incompetent sheltering a group of insurgents one step away from joining the Sith.

And Dodonna wasn't acting much better.

I cleared my throat. "Of course I will. Admiral, we're all on the same side. But I'm the only one who's actually Fleet, here. Mission's just a kid. Zaalbar's a damn Wookiee. And Jen and Juhani report to the Order, not the Republic."

And then there was 'General' Ordo. His background made me wonder if that explained the heavy-handedness of Tar'coya's interrogation. Five years ago, Canderous Ordo would have been imprisoned faster than a Hutt could shovel down a half-dozen juice lizards.

But Ordo was an ally, for all that he annoyed me. Somehow, I felt I had to warn him of the Ebon Hawk's destination. Somehow, I felt that his reception would not be as warm as it should be, considering his part in everything we had accomplished.

It hadn't been long since Jen had pointed that out to me herself.

::Carth,:: Dodonna began, her voice gentling. ::This is a Republic mission now. With the capture of Bastila Shan, we must ensure the correct forces are sent after whatever the Star Map leads to. Anything your crew might have learnt in your travels could be vital. A debrief for all is essential.::

Admiral Dodonna's lined face showed nothing but purpose. And yet… I didn't know how to say that it wasn't really my crew. It was Jen's. Jen Sahara, a mind-damaged Jedi Knight with little recollection of her past.

Maybe I would simply be making my case weaker if I brought that up.

"I'll get us to the Meridus, Admiral," I repeated. I sighed, and lowered my voice. "Forn. Why am I here? You've trusted me all this time, and my crew's delivered. Bastila Shan and Jen Sahara have led us all to pull off the impossible. I should be back on the 'Hawk, not answering Tar'coya's pointless queries."

Dodonna's lips thinned, but she didn't answer. I leaned forward on the table. "Why is Tar'coya acting as if he'd like to chuck the lot of us in the brig?"

Dodonna blinked, and visible startlement chased the irritation from her face. ::Carth,:: she said, :: Commodore Tar'coya is known for his less than melodious manner. It is simply the gravity of your mission. We are not unaware of all that we owe you and your crew.::

I folded my arms and stared at the holo-image. "Then keep your faith in us. Jen will deliver."

::The amnesiac Jedi,:: Dodonna commented, her tone neutral. There was a vague tightening around her eyes that didn't surprise me. With the Republic appropriating what had begun as an Order-led mission, there had to be background politics involved. The Fleet brass didn't like the Order at the best of times, and I couldn't imagine the Jedi Council being particularly impressed at losing command. ::Your report of her abilities and character is glowing, Captain. Is she as good as you say?::

I could barely recall what I'd relayed back on Manaan, when I was ensconced in the Embassy just after Jen had crashed the 'Hawk and done a runner. No doubt the tone of my report this time around was somewhat different.

I'd always recognized her competence, well before the depths of her Force powers had been apparent. Now, Jen was less of a wildcard, and a greater leader than Bastila had ever been. I could acknowledge that, and know that my personal feelings were not clouding my judgement. Jen really was that good.

I'd been an idiot to hope we'd have uninterrupted time together on Kashyyyk, I realized, somewhat bitterly. Now, all I longed for was Jen safe, and back next to me.

"She is," I said. "Bastila started this mission, but it's Jen who will finish it."

The door behind me swished open unexpectedly, and I turned around with a scowl.

"I'm not to be interrupted," I snapped at the newcomer, a uniformed soldier I didn't recognize. Behind him, hobbled in a short green alien with a walking stick.

"Master Vandar wishes to speak with Admiral Dodonna," the unknown soldier uttered, in a flat tone I recognized all too well.

"Captain Onasi, you must be," the wrinkled green figure said in a creaky voice. He had sharp blue eyes that fixed on me. "Owe you and your crew much, the Order does."

"Not enough to leave me alone in a private conference," I ground out. I heard a sigh from Admiral Dodonna.

::Carth,:: Dodonna said quietly. ::We shall speak later. I suspect Master Vandar has his reasons for interrupting.::

Perhaps he did, but I was less than impressed.

Still, the interruption had allowed me the opportunity I needed to slip back to the 'Hawk.

"I better go see them," I muttered, getting up from the pilot's seat. "You coming?"

Dustil scowled, and shook his head mutely. His dislike of the Order ran deep, and I put it down to the years spent training in a Sith Academy. I might be wary of the Jedi, but it was nothing on Dustil's bitterness. I had hoped that he might find a place with them, find a way to control his powers that had come as such a shock to me.

That didn't seem likely, now.

I'd seen Vandar a second time, along with a Zabrak master herding Dak Vesser and Kel Algwinn through the starport. They'd dropped by as a final farewell, passed a few stilted words back and forth with Dustil - who'd obviously been itching to head back to the safety of the 'Hawk - and then left Kashyyyk for good. Vandar hadn't, though. He'd sent Dustil a puzzled look, before hobbling back out of the starport.

I'd felt slightly pensive at the departure of Dak and Kel. It was good to see their second chance turning into reality, but it would have been nice for the rest of the crew to see them off. Better, still, had Dustil elected to join them. I had tried once more, futilely, to convince my son, but all he'd done was shoot me a glare of teenage resentment before storming back into the 'Hawk.

I sighed, coming back to the present. "Okay. I'll be back in a minute. Let me know if you hear anything on the comm."

I walked through the empty 'Hawk, sending an inward plea for the safe return of the others, before opening the hatch.

On the loading ramp stood the two Jedi Masters.

"Captain Onasi," Vandar greeted. His voice was creaky and high-pitched. "Wondering, we were, if you have heard from your crew."

"I am Master Vrook," the old human said, in a low voice that hinted at displeasure. His face was wrinkled with age, but his eyes were sharp. "Has Jen Sahara found the Star Map?"

The question was both blunt and forthright, coming from a man I'd never met before. I had no reason to hold anything back from them, and yet, they were the ones who'd let Jen travel down to the Shadowlands with only that Twi'lek master for company. I felt myself frowning. "I report to the Fleet, not the Order," I hedged. "And I understand our mission is now under Republic authority."

"Allies, we all are," Master Vandar murmured in a soothing voice. Despite myself, I felt somewhat calmed. "To aid and to counsel is why we are here."

Master Vrook cleared his throat. "Any information you impart may help us assist the Republic."

I felt my shoulders relaxing as I realised they were right. Meddling and annoying they might be, but this had been a Jedi mission from the outset. And we were homing in on the endgame now. "Yes, she found the Star Map, and I patched through the coordinates as soon as they were transmitted."

The two masters shared a look; inscrutable, lined faces that seemed to communicate invisibly with one another.

"Travel with Commodore Tar'coya, I shall, to the Meridus," Master Vandar said.

"Don't forget our scoutship, Vandar," Master Vrook warned. "It's docked by the other tower."

"Take that, you could, and meet me there," Vandar murmured. His bright blue eyes appraised the human, whose scowl had etched deep lines into his leathery face. "Needed, we both are, to counsel and to placate."

"It's getting hard to bite back I-told-you-so," Vrook grumbled. "This whole thing was always destined to explode in our faces."

I didn't believe they'd forgotten me, but right now I felt like as overlooked as the scenery. On the landing ramp of my own blasted ship.

"Destined, Master Atris' actions, were not," Vandar replied. His voice was mild, even as he stood there disagreeing with the human in a roundabout vernacular. "Nor Quatra's. Free will is ever present."

"So is a lack of foresight," Vrook muttered, before expelling a gusty sigh. His gaze shifted back to me. I hoped I looked as unimpressed with them both as I felt. "Go with Tar'coya, then," he said to Vandar, even as he held my gaze. "You make more sense than I; he's not known for his sympathy toward humans. I'll see you there, Vandar. I'll wait a little longer."

I felt the vivid gaze of the alien master again. There was something about the green Jedi that made it difficult to remain irritated. I didn't know if it was a slippery use of the Force, or merely the benign appearance of the man.

"May the Force protect you and your crew, Captain Onasi," Vandar murmured. "Meet each other again, I believe we shall."

Without waiting for an answer, the Jedi Master turned and hobbled away. I felt my brows rising as I turned to look at the other master.

"So, Tar'coya's leaving now?" I asked. "And you and Vandar are heading up to the Meridus?"

Vrook scowled, apparently displeased with my line of inquiry. And that's where the masters irked me – Karon having been a possible exception. Their counsel and aid was all very well, but their inability to answer direct questions was more than a little frustrating – and hypocritical - at times.

"Darth Malak is a threat to us all. Anything the Order can do to assist, we will," Vrook growled. "Where's Jen Sahara? What happened in the Shadowlands?"

I felt a scowl forming on my face, a matching one for Vrook's. I realized, then, that his name was familiar. He was the master that Jen expected, when we'd landed here. Instead, there'd been that red-skinned Twi'lek, Master Zhar.

"I don't have the details, but she ran into trouble with Dark Jedi. Might have been better if she hadn't been rushed down there with only Zhar as an ally."

The words sparked obvious anger on the old human's face. "You overstep yourself, Captain. Don't presume to comment on matters-"

"I'll presume alright," I snapped. "Jen's found herself in danger, yet again, because of all these blasted Jedi secrets. Jen's had to face the likes of Uthar Wynn with no recollection of any training, and let me tell you that fight could have gone either way. And stars only know what happened in the depths of this blasted planet. If Jen isn't the luckiest person I've ever met-"

"There is no such thing as luck," Vrook ground out, eyes flashing, angry words cutting over mine. "What of Master Zhar?"

I subsided, then, understanding that Vrook had real concern to be worried, as well.

"He's with her, I believe," I said, remembering Dustil's recollection of Mission's report. "They're safe, and on their way back."

Vrook's eyes narrowed. "We felt a disturbance in the Force. I was certain it was Zhar's end. Are you sure that Zhar is with her, Captain?"

"An old guy with a green lightsaber," I said slowly. Mission had said that, to Dustil and Ordo. But that had been before Jen's missive regarding the Sith bombardment. Jen said she'd pick up Mission, like Mission wasn't with even with her – a contradiction to what the Twi'lek had apparently reported.

Damn, but I hated being left out of the loop.

Vrook sighed, running a hand over a balding scalp. "Not entirely descriptive, is it?"

His grumbling words fired my irritation once more, even if I knew he was correct. But Mission and Dustil were barely more than kids, and non-military besides.

Vrook raised a placating hand, as if sensing my growing ire. "It could be Zhar," he said. "Or, more likely, it's Bindo finally emerging from the depths of his hermitage."

The words were half-muttered under his breath, more to himself than me, I suspected. Not that they were illuminating in any way. But my attention was pulled away, then, by a uniformed figure striding towards us from the control tower.

Jordo. Captain Merrix, now, in charge of the second Republic freighter. I could turn my head and see the Ruby's Claw, across the chasm of space that separated the 'Hawk's landing pad from its neighbour. Jordo's ship was a Hyperion-class; more frigate than freighter, really, boasting defensive capabilities such as a dual-plated reinforced hull and a particle shield generator. It had a hefty arsenal, too, with rotator laser cannons and proton torpedoes, but the Hyperion-class was primarily designed for transporting troops on a small scale, often into hot combat areas.

Commodore Tar'coya had the same class starship. At roughly four times the size of the Ebon Hawk, the Republic freighters made for an interesting choice as our military escort. No doubt, they could aid in the battle above once we hit the atmo. The only thing the Ebon Hawk could match these freighters on was speed.

Jordo was an old friend of mine from Telos, who'd joined the Republic military young, just like me. It'd been a pleasant surprise to see him here, although we'd barely had a chance to exchange pleasantries let alone catch up on the past. Jordo reported to Tar'coya, and I had the feeling that the Sullustan had been keeping him busy.

"Carth," Jordo said in greeting, coming to a stop before us both. "Commodore Tar'coya's leaving to dock with the Meridus." He slanted a quick look towards the Jedi Master, whose expression had edged back into inscrutability.

"So I've heard," I replied. "Interesting, that, seeing as Tar'coya was adamant he wanted to personally escort me there himself."

Jordo shrugged, his black eyes fixed on mine. There was a bitter expression on his face, like he was about to swallow something unpleasant. Jordo had been a light-hearted sort, back when we were both Ensigns, young and full of brash enthusiasm to save the world. He'd been a snubfighter pilot as well, same as me, and we'd seen a lot of each other before Telos.

Things changed, after that. Jordo had lost his family, too.

"Well, you know, orders can be fluid," Jordo muttered, before derailing into a pent-up sigh. "Carth. They're engaged in full-out battle up there. I guess Tar'coya wanted to be a part of things. He's commanded me to wait with you until your crew return. But…" he trailed off, staring pointedly at Vrook.

Vrook's brows raised, and he folded his arms. "Oh, don't mind me," he said, in a bland voice.

Jordo rolled his eyes, and in another circumstance I might have chuckled. My old friend glanced at me again, and the burning anger in his gaze surprised me. "Look, Carth, it's the Leviathan." His lips thinned as the words hit like a hammer to the heart. "Up there, firing on the Meridus. I thought you should know."

"Karath," I whispered, closing my eyes. The sick feeling of hatred clenched tight in my gut, and for a brief instant Morgana's face flashed through my minds-eye. It was indistinct, features faded with the passing of years, and I hated Karath all the more for that.

Admiral Saul Karath, the man I'd spent half a lifetime looking up to. The man who had betrayed Telos to Darth Revan's forces.

"Yeah. Being grounded like this while that betraying bastard engages our men in the skies above goes against the grain. How far away is your crew?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "A few hours, guessing from their last location." I glanced over to Jordo's landing pad; a handful of soldiers were milling about his freighter, likely doing last minute checks before take-off. I saw one soldier chase away a uniformed Czerka figure with an upraised blaster. The starport had emptied itself of foreign vessels, but there was still a fair amount of ground personnel and Czerka-paid hunters around. In that respect, the Ebon Hawk was lucky to be flanked by the two Republic freighters and their troops. There were too many hopefuls looking for a quick getaway right now.

It still didn't make sense to me, why the Republic had sent two large freighters - more suited for transporting troops or prisoners - to escort us back to the Meridus. Or why a blasted Commodore was commanding one of them.

"What's the status up there?" I asked, turning to look up. The branches of the wroshyrs covered near everything bar a small circle of cropped blue. It gave the false impression of security. As I stared, a brief line of light flashed through the sky. On another day, one might assume it was nothing more than a shooting star.

"It's fairly even, last I heard," Jordo relayed. "Six squadrons apiece. Karath didn't know we were here, but it took time for us to rally. The Leviathan came out of hyperspace closer to Kashyyyk than the Meridus was. Dammit, Carth, I could be of use in skies. So could you."

Orbital bombardment. Jen's words came back to haunt me. The Leviathan had been responsible for Taris, I'd found out after the fact. One of the more impressive ships in Darth Malak's armada, the Leviathan had once served the Republic Navy, back in the Mandalorian Wars. Back when Saul Karath was still an honourable man, at least on the face of things.

The Meridus was a similarly-sized cruiser with a similarly-impressive past, so it came down to the supporting fleets the two had. With both cruisers wielding interdicting technology, no one would be escaping into hyperspace in a hurry.

The sound of thrusters warming up had us both turning, in time to see Tar'coya's freighter launching off from the landing pad next to the 'Hawk. It looked a hurried exit, as if Tar'coya's pilot had forced maximum power into the repulsors, and the craft took only a handful of seconds to clear the top of the wroshyrs.

Tar'coya will dock with the Meridus, first, and offload some of his men. His Hyperion-class freighter would be useful in the battle, but it didn't make sense to leave it full to capacity with troops that would be more useful on the Meridus.

Jordo, when he finally left Kashyyyk, would undoubtedly do the same.

I glanced back to my old friend, to see the lines of age in his face that hadn't been there last time we'd met. Once, our families had been close. Dustil used to play with Jordo's little girl, back when the Mandalorians had been the only threat.

It took me a moment to remember the girl's name. Kala. Jordo's little girl Kala. So much war. So many ships burned down, that sometimes the golden memories of the past felt like someone else's life. Like I'd seen too much to ever enjoy a simple existence of family and friendship again.

And then I remembered the soft skin and taut muscles next to me in the pilot's quarters, the sharp humour that sometimes surprised me into a laughter I thought I'd long lost. The one responsible for the restoration of my son. Damaged but, amazingly, alive.

I still had reasons left to live.

"Jordo, my son's onboard. Dustil's onboard," the words rushed out, and I saw blank shock dash through my old friend's face. "It's a long story, and I'd hoped he would go with the Jedi… but he's here, on the ship with my crew.

"Dustil's alive?" Jordo gasped. His face had paled. He couldn't help but think of Kala, who'd been the same age. "Really? Carth- how- you must be ecstatic- where did you find him?"

I remembered searching through rubble, demanding details from demo-bots who scanned for lifeforms under the debris before shifting large chunks of ferracrete to expose the bodies of the fallen. Frantic, horrifying times, as Jordo and I had held out desperate hope for our families.

Morgana had been found with Jordo's wife – and I couldn't even remember her damn name – when the bots uncovered them. It hadn't been much longer after that when they'd found Kala's little body. She'd always been tiny, for her age.

Tiny limbs, broken and lifeless, just like her mother. Just like Dustil's mother.

Saul Karath, who was responsible for their deaths, for the surprise attack and wholescale slaughter of our homeworld, was alive and above us right now.

"Dustil was captured by the Sith during the bombing," I answered, as emotion filled Jordo's face. He was happy for me, he truly was, but it couldn't help but bring up the ugly grief of four years ago. We'd seen each other only once or twice since Telos, as he'd taken time out from the Fleet before returning, while I'd thrown myself head-first into anything that would help me forget. "We found him on Korriban. He's… he's been through a bit, but he's alive."

Jordo nodded, stepping close to clasp a hand on my shoulder.

"Why would you want him to go with the Jedi?" Vrook interrupted. I'd forgotten the crotchety old man was listening in. I didn't even know why he was still standing there, listening in on two Republic officers' private business. Vrook turned to stare at the Ebon Hawk. "There is no Force sensitive onboard your ship, Captain Onasi."

I stared at the Jedi Master mutely, realizing that I'd never, in actual fact, seen Dustil do anything with the Force. But even as that thought shot through my mind, I immediately disregarded it. Vrook sent me a pitying look, as if suspecting the dishonesty of my teenage son, and that did nothing but increase my distaste for the man.

Uthar Wynn had regarded Dustil as his protégé, I'd seen that for myself. And Jen had assured me of my son's strength in the Force. When it came down to it, I trusted Jen worlds more than some old Jedi who hadn't even been able to meet her in the starport.

Jordo's hand dropped as he turned to face Vrook. "Master Jedi, I'm afraid we have Fleet business to attend to. Is there something Captain Onasi or I can assist you with?"

"I thought you were heading to your scoutship?" I added, trying to will the sour tone from my voice. "I've already had Czerka try to break into the 'Hawk. Maybe you should check on your ship."

"You're as subtle as a ferracrete brick, Captain," the Jedi Master groused. "Don't forget that members of the Order are part of your crew. I desire an update on their whereabouts."

"Juhani waltzed off – to you and your colleagues - without a communicator," I shot back. That won't happen again, I told myself. It was insane that the crew had all scattered, with only two working comms left between them – one of which was never seemingly answered. "Jen hasn't been checking in, but is on her way back. We're taking off as soon as they get here. Any debrief will have to wait until we reconvene on the Meridus."

"I can offer you a lift on the Ruby's Claw if you desire, Master Jedi," Jordo said. His voice was light and pleasant. "It will likely be safer than your scoutship."

Vrook harrumphed. "My ship will do just fine, Captain." He sent me another hard stare, before muttering something about the Force under his breath. "Very well. I shall head to the Meridus. Don't delay your departure, Captain Onasi. Once you have your crew, get them to safety."

He sent me a brisk nod, before turning on his heel and striding towards the control tower. Jordo's gaze returned to meet mine, as we both waited in silence for the Jedi to move out of earshot.

"I saw that look on your face," Jordo said, the side of his mouth quirking. "I thought you were going to have a go at him."

"I can hold my tongue," I muttered, wondering inwardly how true it was. There was too much at stake here. After years of having nothing left to live for other than shooting down enemy ships, now I found myself in the thick of war with those I cared about in danger. Dustil. Jen. Mission.

The electronic hiss of the hatch opening behind us forestalled whatever reply Jordo was about to make. I spun, to see Dustil in the entrance of the 'Hawk, shooting me an uncertain look before walking closer.

"Dustil," Jordo hissed behind me, his voice shot through with awe as if he hadn't quite believed my words. "Stang. It really is true."

Dustil blinked, the surprise of recognition widening his eyes, before his attention homed back in on me. He'd always been a bit on the reserved side, but his years on Korriban had added layers of wariness. Once, he would have walked over to Jordo and given the man a hug.

"I've heard from the others," Dustil said, all but ignoring Jordo as he stepped up to me. "Ordo's just left the Wookiee village at the head of a frakking Wookiee army. It sounds like they plan on attacking the damn starport, Dad."

"What?" Jordo snapped.

"Wookiee army?" I repeated faintly. "Is he still on the comm?" I glanced down at the device on my wrist, but there was no open channel blinking on its tiny screen.

"No, but I'm not kidding around. The Wookiees have had some sort of internal revolt and slaughtered their leader. They want to get rid of Czerka, and Ordo reckons they think anything that's not seven feet tall and covered in hair is Czerka. He's half a klick away, and says they're gonna attack any sent on sight."

"Blasted primitives," Jordo muttered, with a xenophobia that surprised me. "Czerka's been screwing them for years, but to rise up now-"

"Jen. Mission," I cut in. "Have you heard from them?"

"Briefly. Jen comm'd in," Dustil's eyes met mine again, and I felt an irrational annoyance that Jen had, once more, communicated with someone other than me. It was like she was deliberately ignoring me, which made no sense. And is verging on paranoia. I've been away and Jen's had her hands full - I know enough to understand that. She's going to lambast me about trust issues if I'm not careful. Dustil cleared his throat. "They're headed to the Czerka lift, but they're some distance away. The Wookiees will get here first."

Jordo swore under his breath. "Carth, I don't want to waste my men on a bunch of insurgent Wookiees. We need to get your crew on the 'Claw."

I blinked in surprise. "What? Why would I do that?"

His dark eyes met mine steadily, even as he shifted on his feet. "My ship's larger and far better armoured, if there's some sort of native uprising about to-"

"No," Dustil interrupted. "Ordo says Zaalbar's making sure they leave the 'Hawk alone."

Jordo's gaze flickered slightly over my son, before meeting mine again. "Carth, the Sith know the Ebon Hawk. You fly this thing into the atmo, and all those snubs out there will immediately be targeting you."

It was true. The signature change on Korriban wouldn't do a blasted thing here; right now, they'd be on the lookout for anything remotely close to a Dynamic-class. We might not have Bastila Shan onboard, but we were still her remaining crew. We'd still found all the Star Maps, and that must be making Darth Malak edgy.

Would Karath turn his forces from the Meridus, to focus on taking our ship out? He'll know I'm onboard. Will that mean anything to him, one way or the other?

The Ruby's Claw would have a better chance at reaching the Meridus. But the 'Hawk was fast, and manoeuvrable, and it had become home. Not to mention whatever argument I'd have on my hands convincing Ordo or Jen to board a foreign ship. Or Mission, depending on her mood.

I'd get the Ebon Hawk to the cruiser.

"No, we're staying with the 'Hawk," I answered finally.

Jordo turned away to stare at his ship, one landing pad over. His next words sounded forced, and something tightened in my gut. "Carth, don't be an idiot. It's safer on the 'Claw, surely you must-"

"I'll get us to the Meridus, I have my orders," I snapped. "You're escorting me, anyway. Why the sudden urge to get my people onboard?"

Jordo shrugged. "It's a preference from the brass: if possible, ditch the Ebon Hawk, and transport your crew personally. It would be safer, Carth, you must concede that-"

"But heavy-handed. Dammit, Jordo, this whole things been over the top since we landed. You and Tar'coya, with combat-ready freighters chock full of soldiers, as if the 'Hawk was going to run through enemy lines. What the heck is going on?"

His dark eyes met mine, then, frowning with puzzlement. Whether it was at my question or the situation itself, I wasn't sure. "I don't know, Carth. I thought you'd know more than any of us."

And, once more, I was struck by the feeling that something of import was eluding me. It was like they expected one of the crew to go rogue. I'd thought it was Canderous, at first – and I ignored the inner voice that told me my veiled warning to him bordered on treason. Stang, I wasn't going to let his background blind me to what we all owed him.

But this felt excessive – even for a missing Mandalorian general who might one day lead a clan that wasn't a threat anymore.

If Bastila had still been with us, then maybe it would make sense. Her Battle Meditation was invaluable to the war effort. But she was gone, and I'd already transmitted the Star Maps the moment Jen had sent them.

Jen… she was the only unknown in our party. A previous Jedi Knight with memory loss. Her power had been enough to worry Bastila, at times. And yet, why would the Republic be interested in her? I felt the concern well up again, undercut with irritation, that she still hadn't made any meaningful contact.

"It doesn't have anything to do with Jen Sahara, does it?" I said abruptly. Then, it occurred to me that I hadn't even considered Juhani, who'd fled the Order once to dabble in the Dark Side personally.

Jordo shrugged, his open face betraying nothing of consequence. "All I know is the brass want your entire party. I guess whatever you've been doing is critical to the war, huh?"

It was. And maybe that was all there was to it - the Fleet ensuring we were all safely ensconced in their protection now that our destination was clear. And while Juhani's dark past or Jen's forgotten one were Jedi business, not Republic – I could understand why they might be concerned.

The stars knew there were enough Jedi who'd fallen in the past, often while on some dangerous mission with the best of intentions.

But my crew were trustworthy, and we'd successfully completed our objective on Kashyyyk.

I hadn't even had time to dissect the Star Map data, although I'd seen Teethree illuminating a large holo-map in the Ebon Hawk's common room. I'd briefly spotted the schematic of the alien space station, too. The endpoint. Malak's cornerstone of power. I didn't know exactly what it was, yet, but the fact Jen had managed to retrieve the plans was nothing short of miraculous.

A uniformed soldier jogged over to us, her attention firmly fixed on Jordo.

"Captain, there's reports of debris burning through the atmo. Latest comm from the Meridus states a twenty percent fighter loss on both sides. The Leviathan is close to the planet, and there's concern that its quad laser cannons will soon be within range," she said, her voice breathless and rushed. "We think they're positioning for orbital bombardment. The Ruby's Claw is ready to depart on your command, sir."

It struck me hard, every word confirming Jen's previous warning. Jordo took a deep breath, and looked over to me.

"Get to the 'Claw, Jordo," I said. "I know your orders are to escort me, but I can't leave – not even if fire starts reigning down on the starport." The urgency was building within me now, sharp and acrid. These quad lasers had reduced Upper Taris to rubble. "I won't leave. Not without the whole crew. You should be ready to take off – if, if it looks like my crew won't make it in time."

There was a dark acceptance on my old friend's face.

"I'll stay until the last possible moment," Jordo murmured. "But I'll be ready to launch earlier, should I need to."

He gave me a fierce nod. And behind me, I could hear the awkward silence of my only child. I can't… I can't lose him. Not again.

I had to stay. Even if the Meridus couldn't stop Karath once more engineering the wholesale slaughter of civilians on an unsuspecting planet. And if we did get out of here, the 'Hawk would be a bigger target – and a more fragile one – than the 'Claw.

"Wait, Jordo-" I turned, facing Dustil, whose dark eyes gave nothing away. He'd been so silent, I'd almost expected to find him gone, yet again. "Can you take my son?"

I was watching Dustil as I said the words, and saw the outrage ignite to twist his features. "What?" Dustil hissed, his brows slamming down in automatic anger.

"What?" Jordo echoed behind me. "Um, yeah, of course I can-"

"No!" Dustil yelled. "No way, Dad! I'm not leaving-"

"Dustil," I cut in, and dropped my hands to his shoulders. I felt the insistence well up, the desire for my only child to, this time, actually stop and listen. "I can't leave. You must understand that, I can't leave without the others. But I've spent the last four years thinking you were dead-"

His eyes were darkening with resentment. "Don't ask me to do this, Dad," he ground out. Dustil's voice had deepened so much, that it still sometimes startled me to hear him talk. "I won't go. Dammit, you always do this!"

"Please," I whispered. "Dustil, please, I have to know you're safe. I lost everything four years ago. It's the damn Leviathan, positioning itself for bombardment. You said yourself that Jen and the others are some distance away. Look, the Sith know the 'Hawk, especially after Korriban, when we do launch they'll be straight on us-"

"Dad-"

"Jordo's freighter is heavily armoured and can get you to the Meridus-"

"I will," Jordo promised. "I'll make sure he's first in line for an escape pod, too, should the Meridus falter."

If there was a man I could trust with my son's life, it would be my old friend who knew the pain of losing a child.

But Dustil's face had turned to stone, all emotion encased behind a frozen wall of teenage bitterness.

"Please," I repeated, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

My son tore his gaze away, and stepped back from me. "Fine," he mumbled through gritted teeth, and I could hear the undercurrent of anger still present. I didn't care, I couldn't care, not if it gave him a better chance of survival. "Fine."

"Son, please-" I sighed. "I'll see you on the Meridus. Be safe. I love you."

"I know." He threw me one last, resentful glare, before brushing past me and Jordo both, and stomping towards the Ruby's Claw with all the angst he could muster.

There was sympathy on Jordo's face, but I saw the longing, also, for the child he had lost. "Best of luck, Carth," Jordo said. "I'm getting out of here now."

I stayed still, staring at their retreating backs. Dustil turned once, to shoot me an unfathomable look, and didn't raise his hand in reply to my farewell.

I sighed, heart heavy, and retreated back into the 'Hawk.

xXx

I only planned a brief trip back to the cockpit; just enough to cast my eye over the nav-screen and locate the others. Ordo was close, now, but Jen was at least a klick away. I tried once more to contact her.

And, again, she didn't answer.

With a grimace, I ran my gaze over the ship's start-up diagnostics. The 'Hawk was refuelled and ready to go, with Teethree patched into the control computer, overseeing pre-flight checks and intercepting any traffic comms. I switched the nav screen to the exterior cam, swivelling it to point to the landing pad's entrance.

I had no idea what the impending arrival of angry Wookiees would mean for the 'Hawk, but I wouldn't do any good in here wearing out the seats.

"Teethree, don't let anyone onboard who's not with a member of the crew," I ordered, as I strode back past him. He whistled at me in reassurance.

Striding back through the ship, I opened a comm channel from my wrist this time. Ordo picked up immediately.

"Dustil tells me there's a damn Wookiee army headed this way," I said, unclipping a blaster from my belt.

I heard a harsh back of laughter in reply. ::Yep. The Wookiees ain't too impressed with off-worlders right now. Get ready to open the hatch, Onasi, we should plan on a quick getaway.::

"Zaalbar's with you? Juhani?" I demanded, as I opened the exit hatch. The landing pad was empty, now, and I glanced over to the control tower. A couple of figures – Czerka hunters, by the looks – came running at speed up the stairwell that led out of the starport. I frowned as they made a beeline for the control tower's entrance.

::Carpet's leading the way, yeah. The Cathar went back for Jen. They not back?::

"No." The entry doors had shut behind the hunters. The stairwell was important, being the only access into or out of the starport, other than through the control tower itself. The six landing pads dotted around the tower all converged on the narrow stairwell that might allow for two sentients to pass through simultaneously; one, if the being in question were a Wookiee.

All the visible landing pads were now empty, other than mine and Jordo's.

"They're less than an hour away," I elaborated, my attention still fixed on the tower. "Assuming they move fast."

::Here's hoping tin-brain caught up to them.::

I felt my mouth twist at the mention of HK. Here's hoping he didn't. I wouldn't be the only one glad to see the back of that psychotic droid.

::Onasi, you should tell your Republic friends to vamoose. The Wookiees will attack them, y'know. Czerka or Republic, they won't give two craps.::

"They won't leave until we do," I muttered. Other than a handful of soldiers standing at attention outside the Ruby's Claw, Jordo's ship was ready to leave. Part of me doubted the decision I'd forced on Dustil, and the doubt sat like a block of permacrete in the base of my gut. But I was playing the odds right, I knew I was. The Ebon Hawk would be well-known to the Sith, and should we make it off Kashyyyk – and we would, because, dammit, Jen always pulled through – then I knew that Sith fighters would be immediately dispatched to take us out.

The Ebon Hawk was fast, but it was a smuggling freighter, not an offensive craft. And without the option of hyperspace, our only recourse was to dock with the Meridus as quickly as possible.

Stars willing, we'd all get to the Meridus in one piece, and Dustil would be waiting for me there.

A flicker of movement from the tower caught my eye, and from my vantage point on the 'Hawk's loading ramp I had a clear view as a large group of Czerka-clad guards poured out from the double-doors. My frown deepened as I spotted the variety of weapons in their grasp; blasters, rifles – and there had to be about thirty of them, all converging at the top of the stairwell.

::They're about to have some fun then,:: Ordo response was dry. ::I see the starport, Onasi. Be with you shortly.::

"Ordo, wait," I demanded, as the men spread out into a large semi-circle, guns pointed down to the only possible place the Wookiees could be emerging from. "Stang! Czerka's had warning. There's a blasted ambush at the top of the stairs!"

::What? Mand'alor's balls, how many?::

They weren't well organized, I could see a duo of Rodians arguing amongst themselves as a Duros waved an angry fist at them. "Thirty, maybe. Weapons aimed down the stairs."

::I can't slow down the kriffing Wookiees. Watch for grenades and guard our backs, Onasi.::

And the comm switched off. I ducked behind the cover of the 'Hawk's entrance, blaster raised, as I kept my eye on the group. They didn't know I was there – yet. Had Jordo seen this, from the neighbouring landing pad?

He knew some of my crew were with the Wookiees, but I had no way to reach him for aid, not without running back into cockpit and firing off a transmission.

I lifted my blaster, stared down the barrel, and had the back of one hunter fixed in my sights. There was nothing more to do but wait.

I didn't have to wait long.

There was a yell from afield, followed by the percussive detonation of a frag grenade rumbling through ferracrete foundations. A handful of Czerka guards were flung wildly back from the circle, and the ping of blaster fire started up.

I fired a double-tap into my target. As it crumpled, my aim shifted to repeat the same direct hits on the figure to his left.

The first Wookiees appeared at the top of the stairs, howling in fury as they charged the armed hunters. One Wookiee fell almost immediately, cut down by blaster fire. There was another explosion to the side, ripping through the line of hunters, and my grip moved to focus on my third mark.

More Wookiees were spilling out from the staircase, severely disadvantaged by the waiting guards. A few of the Wookiees didn't bother returning fire, instead charging the Czerka forces with nothing but rage propelling them.

I spotted Canderous as he emerged, armoured but helmless. His hefty repeater was in his grasp, gutting into the surrounding hunters.

The air was shot through with roars of Wookiee rage as they continued to ascend onto the landing pad. My finger was hot on the trigger, aiming at those closest to Ordo. I had no idea where Zaalbar was, and wouldn't be able to recognize him through the brawl of hairy muscle and waving limbs. And as more of Zaalbar's countrymen continued to arrive, one Czerka-clad guard turned tail and sprinted for the safety of the control tower.

A bowcaster bolt from somewhere hit the hunter directly in the back.

Another explosion reverberated through the starport, followed by the sound of shattering transparisteel and crumbling framework. I glanced over to see a gaping maw where the control tower's double doors had been, and the nearest Wookiee unleashed a howl of righteousness before running directly for the new opening.

It didn't take long for others to follow suit.

I looked back to Ordo; there were bodies encircling him like dead petals fallen from a flower's stem. Machinery grasped in both hands, he scanned the area, but neither he nor I had a clear shot at the last main thrust of hunters. There were eight or so of them remaining, firing frantically at an approaching trio of Wookiees that blocked my view.

There was another Wookiee, bounding to Ordo's side, before gesturing wildly at the 'Hawk. I recognized Zaalbar with a jolt. He shook his shaggy head, turned, and then sprinted directly to me.

There was still the odd Wookiee clearing the stairs, now all making a direct line for the control tower. I could see the spark of a blaster rifle discharging from an open moisture lock one storey up; a second later, the body was hurled out the window and a furry face was briefly visible.

Back on the ground, Zaalbar was almost upon me, with Canderous following at a pace that wasn't close to a Wookiee's. And behind, the remaining group of hunters – four of them, still standing – had gunned down the Wookiees and were backing away from the stairwell and control tower both.

In this direction.

I saw one point a fist towards Canderous, then all four of them turn and raise their blasters. Stang! My eyes widened in alarm, and I made to aim, but Zaalbar was right there, halfway up the loading ramp-

Zaalbar howled something, right in my face.

"Ordo!" I yelled. "Get out of the way!"

Zaalbar's paws slammed down on my shoulders, shaking them in desperation before repeating the same howl.

"Stang, Zaalbar, Ordo's in trouble!"

I pulled back, desperate to get out of the Wookiee's tight grip, as he howled a third time – not registering my words just like I never heard his. The same howl, a low intonation with a lift of pitch right at the end.

I'd heard it a thousand times before. Mission! He's saying Mission!

"She's in the Shadowlands!" I screamed. "Coming up the Czerka lift with Jen! Put me down and help Ordo!"

His black eyes widened, and he jerked around, leaping clear of the landing pad with a velocity that could rival a Jedi's. I had a clear view now; twenty metres away and Ordo was on the ground, rolling to avoid a barrage of blaster bolts that nonetheless thudded into his armoured form.

I was firing immediately, but they were all upon him and Zaalbar was too far away, and an armoured blur of a fifth joined the brawl from out of nowhere-

One went down - I didn't see how - but Ordo wasn't moving and the group turned on the newcomer. I steadied my aim and stared through the sights, focusing on a hunter who at that moment caught a flying armoured fist to the face. The hunter staggered back, head jerking unnaturally to the side.

The remaining two opened fire on the armoured figure, who swiftly dropped to the ground at the same time as the one he'd knocked out. But the newcomer wasn't hit; he was rolling with a surprising speed considering his armour, before coming up in a crouch with a blaster materializing in his grasp.

Laser spat instantly into the two hunters. They fell, motionless. The Wookiee was there then, a howl on his lips, and I had the fleeting thought that guy's an ally, Zaalbar! but he seemed to realize, ignoring the armoured stranger to crouch down next to Canderous.

I scanned around the landing pad, now empty but littered with bodies from both sides. Black burns defaced the ferracrete near the stairwell, and there was a plume of smoke lazily trailing above the tower's entrance. To the right, the Ruby's Claw still sat, dwarfing its landing pad. I could see two Wookiees advancing, bowcasters drawn, and cursed inwardly.

A handful of soldiers stood at attention outside the armoured freighter. It looked like Jordo at the front, with a gleaming protocol droid taking a step forward. I could only hope the Wookiees would stop to listen, because I couldn't see them overwhelming a transport ship of trained military with the same ease. Jordo might not attack, but at the first sign of aggression his men would be jumping into action.

I glanced back to Ordo, who was now struggling to his feet with the aid of the armoured stranger. I felt a small rush of relief – for a moment, there, I'd been concerned about his fate. Zaalbar was howling something, before he turned and bolted towards the control tower with a speed that surprised me. He halted only to rumble something to a grey Wookiee emerging from the building, before vanishing inside himself.

Ordo was obviously injured. Limping heavily, despite leaning on his friend, it took them minutes to reach me. As they hobbled closer, I recognized the stranger's armour as Mandalorian make with a grimace. He was tall, almost as tall as Canderous, but that was partly due to the high-backed helmet that concealed his face and had obviously seen better days. He raised an arm once, to fire at a fallen body at least thirty metres away with unerring accuracy. I could only assume it had been showing signs of life I hadn't seen.

"Onasi," Canderous wheezed in greeting. There was a vivid burn along the side of his scalp, but that was the least of his injuries. My pick, judging from his walk, were primarily hits to the legs. Ordo raised the arm that wasn't leaning on the unknown Mandalorian, and ripped a cracked visor from his face. His grey eyes still gleamed with the blood-lust of battle. "Good shooting out there. Carpet's gone to get the others."

I nodded. "How bad are you hurt, Ordo? Can you man the turrets?"

"Easy," he grunted. "Worst hit is my thigh. Couple of stims and a shot of kolto and you won't notice the difference behind the guns."

My gaze moved to settle on the stranger. Light glinted from the anonymous visor. The damn T shape of the Mandalorian helm brought back unwelcome memories. "Who's your friend?"

Ordo's head turned, and he appraised the Mandalorian in silence for a moment. "I owe you one, Fett," he said finally, his voice low. "That was getting a bit hairy, back there."

Fett, I thought with a grimace. The Republic's least favourite clan.

The armoured Mandalorian shrugged. "You sure took a few down with you, Ordo."

"I always do," Canderous drawled. "Still, that was some impressive fighting, in a suit of armour that I'm willing to bet didn't always belong to you."

The stranger clipped the blaster onto his belt with one hand, still supporting Ordo with the other. Behind them, I saw the grey Wookiee who'd spoken to Zaalbar wander in our direction. Unarmed, and not an obvious threat, but my grip tightened on the blaster at my side regardless. "Lots of Mandalorians lost their beskar at Malachor, Ordo. Look, I still need a lift out of here. Have I convinced you yet?"

"Really?" I interjected in mild disbelief, following it with a sigh of capitulation. It wouldn't be easy to contest this, if Canderous agreed. After all, the man had just saved his arse. "Another Mandalorian?"

Canderous swivelled his head to stare at me blandly. "Do I need to mention the three Sithkids, Onasi?"

Fett made a noise somewhere between a choke and a cough. "Sithkids?" he said faintly.

"None of them are with us," I said, my voice sharp. "Kel and Dak have gone with the Order. Dustil's joining us on the Meridus."

Canderous' gaze sharpened, but he didn't question further; turning, instead, to face his companion again. "I'll get you a lift out of here, Dan Fett, assuming our leader doesn't have an issue with it."

The Wookiee had drawn level with us, then, at the foot of the loading ramp. Old and bent with age, with streaks of grey dappling his or her fur. The Wookiee howled, a mournful sound, followed by gesticulations aimed at Canderous.

"She's thanking us for our assistance, and asking that we piss off now," Dan said, and I blinked in surprise at his translation. So far, the only sentients I'd come across who could understand Shyriiwook were translation droids and the odd Jedi. And Mission, of course, I reminded myself.

"We're waiting for Zaalbar, and the rest of our crew," Canderous told the Wookiee. "We'll be outta here as soon as they show."

"Don't attack the Republic ship in the next landing pad over," I said, causing the Wookiee to stare at me sharply through intelligent eyes. "They're our escort. They'll be taking off as soon as we do."

The old Wookiee chuffed something in acknowledgement, before turning back to Canderous with a look I construed as, strangely enough, gratitude on her furry face. Canderous got the Wookiees free, I recalled, remembering all Dustil had filled me in on. It was Mission's idea, and Dustil and the droids helped - but Canderous led the charge.

The Wookiee placed a gentle paw on Ordo's shoulder, causing the grizzled Mandalorian to look wholly uncomfortable. I couldn't hold back a smirk, and Ordo shot me a quelling glare as the Wookiee stepped away, before she turned and strode quickly back toward the control tower.

I glanced over to the Ruby's Claw again; there were no flashes of blaster fire just yet, and the burnished droid was between the soldiers and Wookiees, hopefully translating some sort of negotiation.

"Get on the turrets, both of you," I said, attention snapping back to the Mandalorians. "The skies are hot up there, and I want to be ready to leave at a second's notice. There's no telling if falling debris will hit the surface, or if the Sith will begin their planned bombardment. As soon as the others' feet hit the 'Hawk, I'm powering up the repulsors."

I stepped to the side to allow them entrance.

"Turbolaser turrets," Canderous said, shaking loose of Fett's hold and limping up the loading ramp. "I take it you've fired one before, Fett?"

The armoured Mandalorian nodded in assent. Not an unexpected reply, Mandalorians were known for their space-worthiness.

"Come on, then," Canderous muttered, entering the 'Hawk.

I followed the two of them in, shutting the hatch and heading straight to the cockpit. Teethree beeped reassuringly at me as I slid into the seat and flicked the nav console back on. The green dot of Jen's comm-link blinked at me, closer than I expected, and warm relief unfurled in my gut. She was almost back.

I sent a ping her way, opening up a comm channel for what felt like the hundredth time, and inwardly pleaded for her to damn well answer for once.

::We're in the lift. We're not far,:: Jen's voice shot through the speaker, and my shoulders sagged in gratitude.

"Jen," I breathed. "Hurry to the 'Hawk. There's fighting in the skies, and crazed Wookiees in the starport. Zaalbar's gone to meet you in the control tower. We're heading out as soon as you're all onboard."

::Noted,:: she answered, and switched the comm off. I frowned at the curt response, but turned my attention to the turbine compressor. It sprang to life underneath my command, whirring in high-pitched expectation. I paused briefly before transmitting a departure message to the Ruby's Claw - Jordo would rally to leave, now I was - and then flicked open the ship's internal 'comm. "Ordo. You both on the turrets?"

::We're good to go, Onasi.:: Ordo's reply shot back. ::What can we expect up there?::

"The Leviathan, with a supporting fleet of snubfighters. Six squads, Republic class I'd wager, rather than the alien craft Malak's been pushing through the galaxy. This is Karath's armada, so it'll be his forces."

Saul Karath had taken a good chunk of the Republic Navy with him, when he'd followed Revan into darkness and betrayal. I didn't know how many soldiers who'd once worn Republic uniform still followed Karath, but they'd likely be stationed with him rather than elsewhere in Malak's fleet.

Admiral Karath had been an inspiring leader, once.

::Right. You told Jen about your orders to dock with the Meridus?::

"I haven't had the chance, Ordo," I ground out. "She hasn't exactly been communicative."

::Make sure you do, Onasi. It's her call where we go.::

I frowned at the console. I'd warned Ordo about our destination, and he'd elected to come back to the 'Hawk anyway. I couldn't do any more for him.

::Onasi, did you hear me? Make damn sure Jen knows, or I'll leave the kriffing turrets to tell her myself.::

"I'll tell her," I answered, as puzzlement chased away my irritation. I was about to say more, when Teethree whooped loudly behind me. The entrance light on the dash blinked, and I switched the vid-feed to the hatch.

And there, at the top of the ramp, was Jen. The relief that surged through me was nothing short of happiness.

I opened the hatch. I could see Mission, Zaalbar, Juhani, some old robed guy, and – damn it – everyone's least favourite droid. As soon as they all entered, I sealed the exit and lifted the loading ramp.

"Everyone, get buckled in!" I broadcast through the ship. "We're about to take off. Jen, get your ass in the cockpit."

But, as I fired up the thrusters and started the repulsorlifts, it was the unknown old man who slid in next to me.

"What?" I snapped, shooting him an indignant glare. "Who are- where's Jen?"

"Eh, she bust her arm." The dark-skinned man leaned forward to stare at the co-pilot's dashboard, and the artificial lighting in the cockpit gleamed from a balding scalp. I had to fight the urge to slap his hands away. "Don't you worry about me, sonny, I've flown many a ship in my time. 'Course, that was about forty years ago, but I can't think tech's changed too much since then."

I didn't have time for this. I scowled, pushed full power into the repulsorlifts, and launched clear from the landing pad. The Ebon Hawk rose vertically through the circular tunnel cut from the foliage of the wroshyrs, and just as the blue sky hit the transparisteel window, I felt a figure thump into the seat behind us.

I canted the 'Hawk as we cleared the treetops. There was a feminine curse in a language I didn't recognize, and a thud of someone falling out of the third chair.

"Jen," I said, my eyes tight on the window. "Get your damn harness on."

I heard her shuffle, curse again in what sounded like Huttese of all things, and then the click of the safety harness.

On the nav screen, I could see the Ruby's Claw right behind us. I switched power to the sublight drive, and the 'Hawk shot up through the sky like a rocket.

"Carth, who else is on this ship?" Jen whispered from behind me. Her voice would have been a welcome sound, had it not been so utterly shocked. It rose in volume on the next words, sharp and high with palpable alarm.

"Who else is on this frelling ship?"

xXx