Author's Note: Ok. If you were looking for another short story like the others in this series… sorry. This story kind of took off on it's own and dragged me kicking and screaming along with it. I hope you'll stick around and see it through with me. –Em
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Chapter 8: Retrieval
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The cabin of the Sen'ika was silent and tense despite the crowd that was packed into the small space. Parja Skirata sat at the wheel of the rickety old transport she'd nursed back into health wondering if the crate would be salvageable after her Null ARC brothers were done with it. At least there were only three of them. Ordo sat directly behind her, calmly going over his weapons as if it were a simple hunting mission not a confrontation with a galactic superpower ahead of them. Jaing was beside his brother securing his own brand of weapons in the form of splicing chips and pads. Kom'rk sat beside Jaing, eerily still, not even twitching. He said he spent hours like that on Utapau while he was spying on Grievious. Kal and Bardan had also come along. Parja suspected Kal was there to discourage them from picking up any more strays; Kyrimorut was crowded already even with Zey and Maze gone. Bardan's special senses were going to be important considering the amount of uncertainty they were walking into. Darman was the most uncomfortable though and it showed. He couldn't sit still and glanced at the long-range scanners constantly for any sign of movement. Parja glanced at her husband in the co-pilot's seat.
With a few rapid eye blinks she opened a private channel with him.
"How's Darman holding up?" She asked Fi.
"Fine I think," he replied without moving a muscle. From outside their buckets it looked like they were still sitting quietly. "He's worried about Niner. Corr said his nightmares are bad, but so were Darman's after what happened on Gaftikar. Niner killed one of his own brothers. That's not going to go away any time soon… or ever. Darman feels responsible for it all: Niner staying behind with him, bringing Rede in the first place, all of it. And I think he's worried about seeing Rex again. He was shocked we even got the call." For once Fi didn't try to cover any of it with humor. There wasn't much humor to be had over the situation. It betrayed Fi's own worries. Parja knew pressing Fi about his own feelings wouldn't get her anywhere, so she asked about Rex and Darman.
"What happened between them?"
"No idea. Dar just said Rex talked to him. I think there might have been more to it." Fi sounded uncomfortable. After spending so long with his squad, knowing every moment of their lives as well as his own and everything about them, it was strange to realize that they had secrets now. Atin had a life with Laseema that the others weren't a part of. Darman had always had Etain but that was never a secret. She had been almost as close as a brother to them anyway. Now Darman had Kad. Even Fi himself had a life beyond his squad with Parja. He reached across the center console to put a hand over his wife's on the steering. She looked over at him and he heard her lips part to speak.
Kal cut in on the public comm before their conversation could continue though.
"You sure we're in the right place, ad-ika?" He asked Kom'rk.
"This is where Rex said they would be," the Null replied, double-checking the coordinates.
"Well they're…" Kal was about to say 'late' when the long-range sensor's pinged. Darman nearly jumped out of his skin.
"One object coming out of light-speed ahead. Heading: 67.9 by 130.8 by 31.1." Ordo informed them.
"Rex was damn near spot on," Kom'rk said with a sharp approving nod.
"Looks like a Casper silhouette," Darman agreed.
"Let's get started then."
"Beginning emergency hailing," Parja said and fliped a small switch protruding from the dashboard and hooked up to a tangle of wires. It was started to relay what would usually be an automatic distress signal and damage report. Sen'ika would appear on the Empire ship's scanners as a licensed transport, Lark, with a blown out engine and failing life support; she looked rusty enough to make that plausible. If the Empire followed it's own rules they were obligated to pick up survivors and deliver them to the next port. It was all part of Ordo's very detailed plan.
The Casper ship burst into existence out of hyperspace just off their bow, filling the view-screen.
"Shab!" Kal hissed. "It's like they don't care if they hit us."
"No change in speed or course," Darman noted. The scanner wasn't picking up any transponder codes that they could read either. The ship was a ghost.
"Haar'chak!" Kal cussed, looking at the scanners, "Rex as got us tied up with spooks."
"You think they received the distress signal?" Fi wondered.
"They got it," Jaing said. "Now, the question is will they answer it?"
"I'm not placing any bets," Darman said, and they could all hear the frown in his voice. There was a hard, cold note to it that sent a chill through Parja. It was a different kind of cynicism than Prudii's flaunted insincerely. Darman really believed that the Empire was cold and emotionless—not an ounce of pity anywhere.
"What's the Jedi radar telling us?" Fi asked. Bardan huffed a little.
"I can sense…" Bardan trailed off and swallowed nervously, "I'm not quite sure what I sense. Five clones, that's for sure. I believe there are two others somewhere in the center of the ship."
"Only five?" Jaing asked. "That's a small crew for a Casper."
"Below the minimum regs," Ordo agreed.
"Hail them, Par'ika," Kal said, tapping Parja's shoulder plate. "They might be more inclined to respond to a woman."
Parja took off her helmet—helmet comms always sounded different—and opened an unencrypted hailing frequency.
"This is transport vessel Lark to Imperial Casper-class starship, please respond. I repeat, Lark to Casper-class vessel." She diplomatically dropped the Mando accent she usually had when speaking Basic.
"We read you Lark." The response was terse but the voice was definitely a clone. Parja frowned at the lack of introduction on their part.
"Oh, thank god! We thought we were alone out here." She imitated relief.
"We see your beacon, Lark. Regretfully we are not able to assist at this time."
Fi's hand tightened over hers almost painfully. She imagined there were some unkind words for the Capser's Captain on the helmet comms at that moment.
"What? But… but if you don't help us… we're going to die out here!" Parja tried to sound panicked when all she felt was the red-hot rage building in her stomach. She was suddenly regretting not being part of the boarding team. Vod or not, abandoning an entire crew to a cold, suffocating death in space was a special kind of sin, even if it was a fake distress signal anyway. The comm was silent. Parja cut it furiously and shoved her helmet back on.
"Well," Ordo said with a shrug, "we have a plan for this too."
"Shoot a few Imps for me," Parja grumbled.
"Will do, vod-ika," Kom'rk said and buckled in. "You remember where the air lock is?"
"Oh, I remember," Parja said. "They won't know what hit them! Prepare to drop our little present."
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Fox frowned when heard the Lark's comm frequency close with a snap. The sound and the silence that followed seemed to reverberate in the large, cockpit of empty seats. Usually a bridge like the Casper's would be crewed by a half a dozen men and a few more supervisors. Instead Kaden and Su'rattin were manning the essential stations alone. They seemed to like it that way. The two ambled around between the stations, adjusting knobs and checking the system diagnostics as if they were two parts of one person. He wondered what they thought of leaving the stranded crew in the void of space. It didn't mater. Their orders were clear: do not stop for anything, do not take on any unauthorized crew, do not reveal any information about your destination, cargo, origin, or mission to anyone but the appointed contact at the specified RV—that included distress signals.
"Hold our heading. Call me if anything else shows up on the scanners," Fox told the two Commandos. "Kaden, you have the con."
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison, one voice. Fox repressed a shiver. He was three steps from the door of the bridge when the proximity-motion-sensors went off.
"What's that?" Fox snapped.
"It's the transport!" Kaden growled and hurried to the engine controls. "They're not quite as dead as they claimed."
"Evasive—"
THUMP-CLANG!
The ship shuddered under Fox's feet and he stumbled backward into the doorway of the bridge. The whole ship rumbled and the engines began to hiss and whine. Alarms went off at all stations across the cockpit.
"We're hit!"
"Something's on our hull!" Su'ratiin was scrambling toward the right console. The lights flickered and the screens all flashed. The heart stopping sound of the engines failing echoed through the empty corridors.
"Osik!" Kaden groaned. Fox could see in the Commando's POV icon on his hud that the drives were losing power fast. They were all symptoms that Fox recognized too slowly.
"De-magnetize the hull!" He cried. "It's a mag-distrupt—"
BANG-BOOM!
The ship shook violently again and the stabilizers screamed high-pitched, electronic noises of futility. Fox was thrown clean off his feet and backward out of the cockpit. His helmet made a plastoid-crunching sound as it hit the wall and he fell unceremoniously in a heap on the corridor floor.
A metallic wrenching sound echoed from down the hallway, followed by the loud smashing of metal thrown violently against metal. Fox's helmet sound-dampeners kicked in before he was deafened by the clattering.
"Airlock breach!" Kaden yelled over the comms.
"Attempting to demagnetize," Su'ratiin added, sounding deadly calm. Fox scrambled to his feet.
"Get that blasted thing off us!" Fox made it two steps toward the door he'd been thrown through, before the sliding blast shield snapped shut in front of him. "What the…"
"I've lost controls!" Su'ratiin said. "Something is in our system."
"Hard contact!" Walli's voice cut into the circuit, his voice tense and taunt with repressed pain. "Starboard airlock," the trooper gasped for breath. "Mandalo—" his voice cut off suddenly with a surprised hitch of his breath and then silence.
"Walli! Nine one, respond!"
Fox quickly checked the life-signs in his HUD. Walli was alive but unconscious. His helmet was giving a pretty good view of situation though. The Starboard airlock doors had been blown off their hinges from the outside and pieces of them were scattered across the hallway. The larger chunks were embedded in the durasteel walls with the force of the explosion. Fox dimly wondered how the crew on the other side had survived the proximity to the blast. Fox quickly counted six Mandalorians in variously colored armor rushing the hallway. One was paused with his back to Walli and his attention focused on the console attached to the wall. The others were splitting up and headed in either direction down the hall at the direction of the one in green based on his gestures. Three were headed back to the crew compartments and two were headed his way.
"Shab!" he hissed. "Kaden, Su'ratiin, get out of there!"
"That might take a while, Captain."
"Hold the bridge! Nothing get's in there but me!"
"Yes, sir," they replied as one.
Fox scrambled to his feet and made a run for the back of the ship. These Mandalorians weren't just hijaker's. They had come with a plan and a mission. They'd known where to wait and what they were waiting for. Fox cursed under his breath. Secrecy was supposed to be their greatest shield, and now that it was gone there were only a handful of outnumbered clones against six Mando pirates.
"Shab!" was about all that Fox could say. "I'll shoot the woman and child myself before I let these sicko's have them."
He heard the pounding of boots behind him when the Mando's turned onto the hall. Blindly he drew his DC and fired backward toward them. A few answering shots whizzed past his helmet and he ducked instinctually. The heat made the noise filters crackle in his ear. He turned the corner and made a mad dash for the crew compartment doors.
Ven was already there, set up in the shallow doorway firing down the opposite hall. Fox took his Lieutenant's back.
"We're cut off," he told Ven and shot back at his pursuers the way he'd come. They were now at a stand still, the two of them against he five Mandalorians cutting off both exits. A gold helmet peaked around the corner at Fox's end and he answered with a few well placed shots. A scorch appeared on the corner where the enemy had been a half second before. Fox adjusted his grip and in the second that took him a dark-green blur stepped out in full view and snapped off a volley. A shatter of sparks flew across his view as one shot hit the wall just in front of him and the next sliced past his side. Fox returned but his first shot flew wide. The second was a hairs breath behind the green blur. He pressed against he door and waited for the pain. He was about to release a sigh of relief when nothing came . Then he heard Ven grunt.
"Lieutenant?" He turned and saw Ven fall to his knee. To the trooper's credit he kept his gun up and trained on his side of the hallway. Fox stepped out to cover his brother's back.
"Ven! Report!"
"Just a scratch," the trooper replied but his voice was trembling.
"Shab!"
There was a moment of tense silence while they waited for the next volley of fire. Nothing came. A soft dripping sound started from behind Fox's back, the sound of blood hitting the durasteel floor.
"Captain," a tense voice, too monotone to be Ven, whispered in Fox's ear.
"Walli!" Fox hissed into his comms. "Proceed to the main aft corridor and engage—"
"Sorry, Captain," Walli's voice was strained and weak. "I'm not going anywhere with this door on top of me."
"Are you injured?"
"Don't know. I'm scanning for the enemy's comm frequency now."
Good man, Fox thought, making himself useful even when he's pinned down. He could see in Walli's POV icon that he was rolling through the available channels with his sensor aimed at the Mandalorian in grey armor, who was still bent over the console outside of the airlock.
"This is quite a situation you're in," a voice called aloud from Fox's end of the hallway, breaking the short ceasefire. It was an older male voice distorted by a helmet's external speaker. Fox didn't reply.
"I know your brother there is injured, son," the voice said. Fox growled at the false kindness.
"Who said he's my brother?" He replied on open comms.
"I know you clone boys pretty well," the Mando answered. "You're all brothers, vode an."
Fox's internal speakers crackled for a moment then a new rush of chatter filtered into his ears. Walli had tapped into their coms.
"I don't think you're getting through to him, Buir" a younger male voice said.
"It was worth a try," the man who had called out to Fox responded.
"I can get a clear angle on the Captain if you draw him out, Kom'rk," another voice added in an assured tone and strong accent, but the voice was unmistakably a vod, a brother, a fellow clone. Fox felt his stomach flip and his DC wavered slightly.
"I'll draw his fire and take out the wounded," another brother's voice responded.
Traitors, Fox thought furiously.
"I'm no mando'ade," Fox snapped. "You don't know me. Save your platitudes for someone else. If you're going to kill us, come out and do it. I'll do my damnedest to take a few of you with me!" Fox was slowly backing up toward the door controls. He might not take one of the Mandalorians, but he was definitely not giving them what they wanted. He tried not to think about what he was going to see in that room the moment before he lit it up with blaster fire. It's a mercy to the woman and child, he told himself. Better than what these Mando's have planned for her and the kid. If he could he'd shoot Ven too. Better a quick death from a brother. That's what I would ask for himself, Fox thought.
"He's planning something. We need to move!" the younger male voice warned the Mandos. Fox ground his teeth.
"I've got a better alternative. Stall!" a third brother said into their coms.
"Now don't do anything rash," the older Mandalorian warned over speakers, as if he could see Fox moving and resolving himself. "We're not here for your cargo."
"You're a shit liar."
"I've got no reason to lie, son," the voice replied. "I've got the upper hand here. I could kill you, but I'd rather not. I'm offering you a chance to save your buddy's life here."
Fox froze and looked down at Ven behind him. His brother's hands were shaking, but he was still holding up that blaster. His side was a mess of burnt and blackened plastoid and his armor was slick and shinny red from his waist to the small pool around his bent knee.
"We've got a mission, Commander." Ven said the same words he'd said to Fox during the Purge, back when Fox had been a Commander. Fox had chosen his brothers over his mission then and it landed both of them in this mess. He nodded to Ven sharply.
Fox turned for the door controls.
"Too late," the young male said over the Mandalorians' comms.
Fox heard the hiss-clack of an airlock just as he raised his hand for the door controls. Just before the gust of escaping air drowned out everything else Fox heard the third brother yell over the enemy comms.
"Grab something!"
Shab! Fox thought just before the pull of the vacuum wrenched him off his feet. Ven gave a short cry then they were hurtling down the corridor. Fox flailed in the streaming air current, his hand smacked painfully twice against the hard walls before he found purchase for a moment on a doorway. He threw his arm out. When his gauntlet cracked against Ven's, he gripped tight, feeling the added weight on his slipping fingers. Letting go of Ven never crossed his mind.
Clunk! The sound of the airlock shutting was the sweetest sound Fox had ever heard. The sucking pull released and he dropped painfully to the hallway floor for the second time. Ven gave a grunt then fell into silent unconsciousness. Fox checked his HUD for his brother's life signs and their air pressure readings. All around him he heard the emergency systems hissing to life and releasing air. He saw the oxygen levels slowly rising and sighed in relief.
Over the enemy's comms he heard them grunting and getting to their feet.
"Cutting it close, vod!" the one called Kom'rk exclaimed, slightly peeved but sounding surprisingly exhilarated.
"I could see you," the third brother responded. "I've gotten into the security cams. Looks like the two up front are still struggling with the door controls. These ships sure aren't built to bend."
"Did we flush them out?" the older man asked, sounding winded and none too pleased about the close brush with open space.
"No, Buir. They're a few meters down the hall though and out of your way."
"Do you see our man?" Buir asked.
"One of them's still conscious," the younger male voice cut the others off.
Fox lifted his head in time to see the gold armored Mando and the one in the lighter, dusty-green colored armor looking down the hallway at him. How did they know? He wondered, just before the one in green raised his hand, fingers splayed and palm toward Fox. Then all Fox knew was the blackness of unconsciousness.
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Bardan felt Fox wink out like a light in the Force, his presence becoming muted and distant from the present.
"What the shab are you doing," Kal growled and grabbed his son's arm with a sharp tug. Despite being smaller and older he still wrenched Bardan's arm hard. "Blowing open the airlock was risky enough!"
"They'll know it was me anyway," Bardan snapped back tersely and pulled away. "Don't open that door!" He yelled at Kom'rk and Ordo despite the comms that made him sound just feet from them instead of yards. The two Null ARCs paused in front of the doorway.
"Why not?" Kal demanded. "What's in there Jaing?"
"Not sure," the Null back at the airlock console said, "They've disabled the cams inside."
"What are you picking up that the scanners aren't, Bard'ika?" Kal asked. Quickly Bardan switched their comms over to a private channel. Kal noticed and stood up a little straighter, confused.
"Buir, I'm sorry, but I have to ask," Bardan said, sounding worried and badly shaken. "Are you sure that Etain was dead?" Just hearing her name sent a pang through Kal that felt like a physical punch.
"This is not the time…"
"I know, buir," Bardan cut off his father. "Please, just answer me."
"Yes, son," Kal said, his shoulders heavy, but he kept them straight with effort. "I told you the first time you asked. I didn't lie. She was dead." In his mind the last moments of Etain's life played before his eyes in horrific detail. As hard as he had tried to forget the memory it was only seared into his consciousness more distinctly.
"I remember and I trust you, buir." Bardan swallowed and it sounded loud over the comms. "But I also have to trust my senses."
"And what are they telling you?"
"There are no brothers on the other side of that door."
"What is in there?" Kal asked. His breath was shallow as he waited for the answer.
"I don't know," Bardan replied just shaking his head. Kal wished suddenly he could see his son's face and get some read on how Bardan was feeling, but even then, the Jedi were trained to hide all emotion. Kal switched his comms back to the public channel.
"Open that door!" He snapped and strode down the hall to his sons. They took up positions on either side, weapons drawn. They could count; two clones still trapped in the cockpit, one outside the airlock, and two in the hallway made five; none of them Rex. The retrieval was shaping up to be another unmitigated disaster. Darman and Ordo flanked the left and Kom'rk the right, with his father behind him. Ordo hit the controls and the door hissed open to reveal the darkened crew compartment and overturned furniture. Silence hung for a moment.
"Who ever you are, come out with your hands above your head!" Kal shouted into the shadows.
"Leave us alone!" The panicked cry that returned out of the gloom was like the voice of a ghost. The all stiffened. Darman's blaster dropped a few inches.
"Et'ika," his soft whisper carried over the comms easily.
"Can't be," Ordo growled. Kal swallowed painfully and tried again, more gently.
"We don't want to hurt you ma'am, if you could just come out, please?"
"N-no. Y-you can't be here. He—he's going to come for us! My husband is going to—to—Where is he? Where's Darman?" Her words were trembling and soft but echoed clearly out into the hallway.
"Dar, No!" Bardan jumped forward to grab his brother a moment too late. Kal grabbed Bardan out of the path of the doorway just as Darman charged through it into the darkness.
"Darman!" Kal yelled after the boy.
"Etain! Et'ika, it's me. I'm right here." Darman was calling out into the darkness.
Clang! Something small and metallic smacked into the side of Darman's helmet with a hollow sounding ring. A cup clattered noisily to the floor and rolled into the halo of light at the doorway.
"You're not my husband! Where's Darman? What have you done with him?" She yelled back.
A baby started crying. The loud and high-pitched sound came from somewhere in the darkness with the woman who couldn't be Etain.
"Shit, there's a child," Kal groaned and holstered his blaster. Ordo and Kom'rk made no motion to do the same. "Udesii, ad'ike." Kal told them and edged into the doorway past Kom'rk. He flicked on his helmet lamp and a beam of white light broke through the darkness. Kal swept it toward the sound of the child's cries.
The light fell across the pale oval of a woman's face. Her expression broke Kal's heart all over again. He wondered if anything was worse than her being dead and gone forever, but seeing her eyes wide with primal fear and terror looking back at him cut harder and deeper than he could have been prepared for.
"Et'ika," Darman pleaded as he inched closer to her. He reached up and took off his helmet, as if that had ever kept Etain from recognizing him. Darman let it fall from his hands and clatter like the metal cup to the floor. "Please, cyar'ika. It's me. It's Darman."
Etain clutched at the bundle wrapped in her arms and edged away from the Mandalorians. Kal could only stare in mute shock. It was definitely his daughter, the scrawny, wide-eyed, too-young Jedi that he'd met on Coruscant who proved to be a woman of iron resolve and perseverance under her naiveté. Her brown hair hung loose and limp around her face, dulled to chestnut instead of the sun-bleached, red-streaked brown he remembered. Her face was pale and sweaty, her lips trembled, and her bony hands gripped her screaming burden.
"You're not Darman," she repeated, shaking her head at the man she didn't recognize. "What have you done with him? Where is he? Darman! DARMAN!" She screamed and the child screamed louder with her.
"It's me. It's me, Et'ika. I'm here and I love you. I love you." Darman whispered brokenly and fell to his knees in front of her, but Etain wasn't listening or even looking at him.
Kal saw Ordo and Kom'rk edging into the room, their blasters still drawn but lowered.
"How is this possible?" Kal asked softly. It was the first question of so many clamoring for his attention. He was reduced to facing them as they came, one at a time.
"I don't know, buir," Ordo said. "We were both sure she was dead."
"We've seen other's make impossible recoveries before," Kom'rk reminded them of Fi's miraculous rebound from his crippling brain injury.
"Others who still had life signs," Ordo said softly.
"Are we sure it's her?" Kal asked.
"She appears to be Etain, down to her freckles," Ordo said. Kal could see in the POV icon in his HUD that Ordo had zoomed in on the bridge of the woman's nose.
Kal didn't question Ordo's memory; it was perfect and unfading. If he said the woman was the spitting image than she was. But it was Bardan's words that convinced him.
"It's her," the former Jedi said, his voice deep and ancient in a way Kal hadn't heard in a while. The Force was telling Bardan it was the truth. Kal looked sidelong at his son. Bardan had his helmet off, and he was looking at Etain with shinning eyes. There wasn't a trace of the Jedi emotionless facade there. He looked as torn up as Kal felt.
Etain had turned away from the kneeling man in front of her and into the wall at her back, trying to block out the view of the armored bodies around her. She cradled the child and whispered calming words in a voice that shook. Kal felt his stomach clench when he caught the name 'Kad' on her lips.
"Get her on the ship," Kal said. "We can't stay here."
"Yes, buir," Kom'rk said, stepping forward toward Darman.
"What if this is a trap?" Ordo said. "There's too little security. This was too easy!"
"I don't think they were expecting company," Jaing's voice cut into their comms. "I've been digging in their systems and I can't find anything. They didn't file any flight plans, go through any customs checks, log with any military groups or officials. This ship doesn't exist according to the Empire or anyone else for that mater."
"What does that mean, son?" Kal asked slowly.
"Means whatever this ship is carrying the Empire is trying to hide from it's own people, even it's own military. It's a lot of trouble just to catch a couple of run away clones—even ones as scary as us."
"So why is it warranted for a single ex-Jedi?" Kal asked.
"Or an infant?" Ordo asked. Kal looked over to see Etain struggling against Kom'rk and Darman who were trying in vain to placate her. The child was still wrapped tight in her arms. Bardan stood back watching them with wide, confused eyes. Kal saw his son's hand gripped tight around his lightsaber and frowned. Bardan was seeking comfort and familiarity from something disturbing only he could sense.
Etain had not lost any of her stubbornness and fought Kom'rk all the way to Sen'ika. If she had used the Force one man alone would not have been able to walk her off the ship. But Etain struggled with only the strength of the frail woman she appeared to be. Fi was waiting with a gentle sedative that lulled her into complacency. They all crammed back into the small craft. Jaing activated the emergency hatch that would prevent the Casper from loosing air-pressure when they detatched. Kal had been telling the truth when he said they didn't want to kill anyone. With one last digital attack launched on the Casper's on-board computer Jaing packed up his gear.
"That will cripple them for the next four hours, by which time we will be long gone," Jaing said as he strapped into his seat. "Then it'll let those two in the cockpit out and give them back engines and controls. The mag-disruptor worked beautifully by the way, Par'ika."
"Oh well, you know. Take a field generator, strap on some spare induction coils, drop it in the right place—instant space doldrums. Any girl could do it," Parja said with a false-lighthearted tone. She pulled Sen'ika gently away from the crippled Casper vessel.
"Maybe any Mando girl," Fi said with pride, "but ner riduur does it best." Parja tried to take some comfort in Fi's well intentioned words, but she knew only half his mind was on her. The other half was on Darman and Etain behind them. Fi reached out for his wife as she simultaneously reached across the console to him. They clasped hands, reassured by each other's physical presence even if their words were empty.
"I made a mistake, buir," Kom'rk said, taking off his helmet and running a hand through his hair.
"What are you talking about?" Kal asked.
"Rex never said he would be at the RV. I made an assumption and he never corrected me. I should have been sure. I would have known if he'd lied to me."
"What did he say?"
"He just said, 'Darman really doesn't want to miss that ship. Bic ori'jaonyc.'" Kom'rk quoted Rex word for word.
"He's not wrong," Kal said and looked back at Darman. The man was absorbed with watching Etain cradle the child, as if she were the only thing in the universe that meant anything to him. She and Kad were his reasons for breathing, for living, ori'jaonyc…
"He's not wrong," Kal repeated.
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Author's Note: Not the happy reunion we all hoped for Darman and Etain but at least they're together with Kad. Back to Rex next chapter! -Ember