Beta'd by the wonderful NYCitygurl.
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Interlude 3
"Why are we out here again?"
"Because Karrde's gone absolutely mynockcrap insane."
"Funny, Galia, funny." Jol turned back to his sensor analysis.
"I'm not kidding, Jol. He buys up some high end gravatic sensors, hires a grad student out of Commenor and tells us we're looking for the frakking Maw Installation."
"So?"
"So, I'd be happier looking for the damn Katana Fleet. At least we know that actually existed at one point." Or Zonama Sekot. If they were going to chase a myth, they ought to chase one that was more than a couple of years old.
"Come on, Galia, I'm sure there's a reason we're –"
"In the middle of the bloody Maw? Yeah. There is. Karrde's gone mynockcrap insane."
"I sincerely doubt that."
Galia wheeled toward the door of the sensor analysis room to face the voice. "Ben!"
Ben Lars, pilot of the Star Torch stood in the doorway, holding his hands behind his back. His bearded face looked as disturbingly serene as ever under a mop of brown hair.
"Kaarde is not, as you put it, 'mynockcrap insane.' He is, I can assure you, fully possessed of all his faculties, and furthermore, he knows exactly what he is doing. I suggest you get back to work."
And with that, he was gone.
Galia shuddered. "That guy gives me the creeps."
"Oh, he's not that bad once you get to know him," said Jol.
"Yeah. Right. Anyway, how the hell could he know any more about the mission than we do? He's just the pilot."
"Didn't you know? He shares quarters with Mara Jade."
"He's been with the organization for over twenty years and he's with the second-in-command? Why the hell is the guy still just flying the ship?"
"You really don't know anything, do you? You sure you've been with the organization three months?"
"Shut up."
"Whatever. Ben Lars is a rebel. He's just waiting around until the next Alliance shows up."
"Fat chance of that."
"Try telling that to Ben."
-
"I'm worried about Galia."
"That new sensor tech?"
"Yes. She thinks Karrde has gone, and I quote, 'mynockcrap insane.'"
Mara snorted.
"You have to admit," said the blonde sitting across from her in the small dining alcove, "that most people would be considered a few troopers short of a squad for sending a ship into uncharted regions of the Maw based on instinct."
Mara and "Ben" didn't exchange a glance. They didn't have to.
"What do you mean 'based on instinct?'" said Ben.
Danni raised an eyebrow. "Everyone's heard. Ghent overheard Kaarde talking about it. Apparently someone was bringing up the same point Galia – who is, by the way, an excellent analyst – and he said something about someone or another's instincts being as good as any intel out there."
Ben stared at their resident scientist until Mara elbowed him under the table.
"That's odd, isn't it, Ben?"
"Sure is. A bit worrying, too."
-
Mara sat in the cabin's small but comfortable living area – being the highest ranking member of the organization aboard did have its privileges – while her… whatever he was to her showed Danni to the door.
By the time Ben returned she knew what they had to do, even if she didn't like it.
"Luke, we've got to tell her the truth."
Luke Skywalker ran a hand through his dyed hair. "Mara, we can't –"
"Just listen, Skywalker."
"Alright."
"I'm not saying we should tell her the whole truth – I'm certainly not interested in her finding out about my former employer – but she's Force sensitive, Luke, and she's going to figure out that there's something going on. Better that she find out from us than that she stop trusting us."
"If we tell her anything involving the Force, she's going to connect it to me, by which I mean Luke Skywalker the Rebel, not Ben Lars the pilot."
"Let's just hope that when she does, she understands."
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Chapter 14: Old Heroes
Wynssa was in the living room, reading through what appeared to be an academic text file on her datapad when Jag arrived at home.
"You're home early, Dad," she said without looking up.
"I'm not Dad."
Wyn flew to her feet, dropping her datapad onto the hoverchair she'd been sitting on.
"Jag!" She ran over to hug him. His mother entered a moment later from the kitchen. She waited for Wynssa to release her older brother before coming over to embrace her son.
"Gods, it's good to see you, Jag." She stood back taking his shoulders in her hands. "I don't suppose you've got clearance to tell us where you were?"
"Sorry, Mother. It's still classified. Where's everyone else?"
"Davin and Chak's squad pulled guard duty on the Corellian delegation," Wynssa answered for her mother, who looked on, amused. "Cherith is flying in from Tarin Sei in a couple days, but she didn't want to miss university orientation. And Cem is – Cem, get down here! Jag's back!"
The sound of a door opening and closing was heard and Jag's youngest sibling came thundering down the stairs, a holonovel in hand.
"Jag!" he yelled, and nearly tackled his brother to the ground, dropping his novel in the process.
"Cem, you said you were studying!" said their mother, catching sight of the holonovel. Cem didn't seem to hear her.
"Where were you? Does it have to do with the conference? Guess what? I got a hundred percent on my Galactic Literature essay!"
Jag smiled. He was home.
-
Jag was sitting with his mother in the kitchen, sharing hot chocolate. Wyn and Cem had just been shooed up to bed, and Jag and Syal were sitting in comfortable silence when Jag's com buzzed.
"Hello, this is Jagged Fel," he said, opening the link.
"Jag." It was his father's voice.
"Father. It's good to hear from you. What's going on?"
"There's something wrong. Come to my office."
The comlink clicked off.
"Mother, I've got to go."
-
Their were nine people already in his father's office when Jag arrived. He recognized the Prime Minister and her husband Pter, the head of the Defense Fleet, the Corellian delegation, and, of course, his father, who had surrendered his varnished wood desk to the Prime Minister. The two people Jag didn't recognize were very tall and very hairy: Wookies, presumably from the Kashyyyk delegation. Two protocol droids were also present: the bronze model he'd seen earlier that day, and one that was all gold save for a silver leg, and which looked distinctively out of place.
"Madame Prime Minister," said Jag, bowing to her, and then to the rest of the room. "Ladies and gentlemen."
"Mr. Fel," said the Prime Minister, "thank you for joining us."
"It is my pleasure, madam."
She nodded, then gestured to her husband. "Admiral Thanas of the Bakuran Defense Fleet." A seated bow to the two Wookies. "Ambasador Chewbacca of Kashyyyk and his aide, Lowbacca. Their translator droid."
The droid began to speak. "Greetings. I am C –" It was cut off by a growl from the larger of the two Wookies.
The bronze droid spoke up. "The distinguished Ambassador wishes to convey his sentiment that now is not the time for –"
"Quiet, you!" said the gold droid. "I am Ambassador Chewbacca's translator and I will –"
"What Chewie here said," interrupted Lando, "was 'be quiet.'"
The droids went silent and the Ambassador gave a satisfied sounding grunt. Jag felt that he was gaining a new empathy with Bakura's anti-droid extremists.
The Prime Minister cleared her throat. "Ambassador Chewbacca, Mr. Lowbacca, Admiral Thanas, I would like to introduce Jagged Fel, private citizen, who is responsible for seeing our esteemed Corellian guests safely out of their system."
"Nice to see you again, kid!" called Booster, who seemed to take a special joy in vaguely inopportune behavior. Or maybe he was just trying to upset Hal, who rolled his eyes at Terrik's comment.
"Ambassador Chewbacca," continued the Prime Minister, ignoring the interruption, "if you would be so kind as to explain the situation?"
The ambassador stood up and made a sound that Jag assumed was the Wookie equivalent of clearing one's throat, then spoke in what was probably Shiriiwook. No one said anything for a few seconds after he stopped.
Lando broke the silence. "Threepio, I think this is the part where you translate."
The gold droid – Jag was sure he'd heard its designation before, but he'd be damned if he could remember where – stopped glaring at his opposite with a surprised "Oh!" and turned back to the group.
"Master - excuse me, I mean Ambassador – Chewbacca states that, upon his arrival on your fine planet – I refer of course only to those here who consider Bakura their homeworld and not to –"
The second Wookie, the aide, interrupted with a low growl.
"I am getting on with it, Master Lowbacca, or at least I would if you wouldn't interrupt me."
Jag noted that the Admiral was at this point fighting to restrain an amused smile.
"Upon Master Chewbacca and his delegation's arrival, he attempted to contact the individuals responsible for this conference, who should have been en route to Bakura by this time, and found that he was unable to do so. While such minor irregularities are, he wishes to assure you, not entirely unheard of given their mode of conveyance – and I agree here completely that ship is incredibly decrepit – he is none the less quite worried, as is his aide."
Jag frowned. The opinion of a personal aide, chosen for their perception and intelligence, was certainly important, but it was rather odd to mention it in these circumstances.
Apparently Tendra thought so as well. "If you'll excuse my asking, why do you mention your aide's opinion?"
The Ambassador growled a response, which the gold droid – Threepio – translated as "Lowbacca has the Force in him." When this provoked a raised eyebrow from Booster, a rather louder series of growls followed.
"Ambassador Chewbacca wishes to remind you all that, being very much your senior, he has had the opportunity to see far more of the Jedi than you ever will, and he has taken that opportunity, thank you very much. I am afraid my diplomatic programming prevents me from expressing this in appropriately colorful terms."
Hal gave a snort of laughter, then spoke. "Well, I certainly don't know anything about the Force or Jedi, but I do know that the situation you've described is suspicious. Who are these people, anyway? I was under the impression that the Bakuran government was responsible for this conference."
The Prime Minister replied, "We organized the conference, but the initial idea and the information as to who was trustworthy enough to invite came from a pair of independent operators, codenames Vykk and Lelila Idanian. They prefer to work in the background, but I've met them both several times and I trust them completely. And Mr. Horn is right. This is worrying. Which is why you're here, Jagged. In the last mission you were assigned you showed that you could deal well with novel situations, with people from all walks of life, and with the Galaxy beyond Bakura. I want you to find Lelila and Vykk for me and, if necessary, to offer them sanctuary here. Will you accept this mission?"
A thousand things flashed through his mind. Duty and the Bakuran ideals. The fact that it would keep him out of the cockpit of his fighter longer. Another chance to see the larger galaxy. He'd be away from his family and friends again, this time quite possibly for much longer. And, a part of him whispered, the slightest chance, just an infinitesimal probability, that he'd see Jaina again.
"I'll do it."
"Thank you, Jagged. We'll discuss the details later."
"Madame Prime Minister," said Lando, "if I may, why are the four of us even here?"
"You're here," she replied, "because there's a chance this gathering has been compromised, and you need to that, and why, so that you can make an informed decision as to whether to stay.
Lando simply nodded.
"I, for one, am staying," said Hal. "This is where I need to be."
"How the hell could you know that?" asked Booster.
Hal gave him a glare that could melt blast doors and simply said, "Policeman's intuition."
"And the rest of you? You don't have to come to a decision now, of course, but if you have any preliminary thoughts it would help me figure out what to do next."
The first speaker surprised Jag.
"I'll stay," said Lando.
"Someone has to keep him in line," said Tendra.
"Aw, what the hell?" said Booster.
A quiet smile came to life on the Prime Minister's face. "Thank you all. Now, if all of you except Admiral Thanas and General and Mr. Fel would leave, it's best that as few of us know the details of this mission as possible."
The Corellian and Wookie delegations filed out.
-
"You're looking for Han Solo and Leia Organa Solo," said his father.
"Sir?"
"You didn't hear him wrong, Jagged," said the Prime Minister.
"I was under the impression that they had disappeared after the Second Battle of Bakura and the collapse of the Alliance," said Jag.
"For the most part, they did," said Admiral Thanas. "But they got in contact with us again after the Corellian Uprising and they've been spreading information between different rebel groups ever since – all incognito of course."
"Jag." His attention snapped to his father, who rarely used his abbreviated name in public.
"Yes, sir?"
"I need you to understand how important this is. The Solos may not have been visible for the last twenty years, but virtually any cooperation between anti-Imperial groups –" Soontir Fel would never, Jag thought, call himself a rebel, " – has been their doing. In addition, that their identities remain a secret is vital. We just had two of Han Solo's closest associates from the Rebellion in this room, and they were asked to leave before the Solos' identities were revealed. That should tell you how important it is that they remain anonymous. If anyone were to find out that they are still active, there's no chance they would be willing to leave them alone, and if someone starts looking for them then Isard will take notice. The Prime Minister is trusting you with an enormous task here, and I expect you to be up to it. I know you'll be up to it, son."
"Thank you, Father."
The elder Fel nodded and allowed the slightest of smiles to cross his face. "You're welcome. Now, the details of the mission…"
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