Onimi - what, you think Jedi can't have a one night stand? ;)
Chapter 15 - Challenges
Within a few minutes of running around the massive stolen Mandalorian ship to get away from Danni, Jaina realized that she was utterly lost. She could not remember the last time that she lost control like that. If she had ever lost control like that before.
"It was my fault, not Danni's," Jaina said aloud in the empty hallway. "My fault."
Several minutes later she turned down another hallway and nearly walked right into Wedge.
"Hi Jaina," Wedge said brightly. "I was just on my way to check in with Danni. The Vornskrs have been putting pressure on me to get back into the fight. Want to come for a walk?"
"I-I want to join Rogue Squadron," Jaina blurted breathlessly. "You need the best pilots out there and I'm one of them."
"Jaina, I need good people everywhere." Wedge laughed. "What's wrong?"
"You don't want to..."
Wedge grabbed her shoulder hard, interrupting her deflection. His steeled glare froze her in place as she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Yeah, I do."
Jaina broke eye contact and pulled away from his grip. She leaned against the hallway wall, folded her arms across her chest, and stared at Wedge's boots.
"I...I lost my temper," Jaina said. "I think I hurt Danni."
"Is this about Jag?"
"You knew?" Her head shot up and she looked at him with an accusing stare.
"About my nephew getting engaged?"
"Right," Jaina said dejectedly. "I didn't think everyone except me knew about it."
"Jaina, this tells me two things," Wedge said. "One, you're too emotional to be in a cockpit."
Before Jaina could protest, Wedge held up a finger to silence her. "And, two, you're still in full control of your faculties if you realize what you did is wrong."
"If you want me scrubbing the garbage compactors..."
"I want you to be an admiral."
"What?" Jaina demanded. "I just beat the crap out of one of your Colonels. If anything, you should be court marshalling me."
"We don't have the luxury of being picky right now because you got wound up about an ex-boyfriend," Wedge responded. "I have a fleet that needs an admiral and a veteran of the last war looking for things to do. It's a perfect fit."
"I'm supposed to be doing courier missions for you."
"Anyone can do that."
"I have thousands of hours in a cockpit. I have no idea how to run a fleet."
"Your dad was a general in the rebellion when he was your age, and you have years of training and experience he didn't have," Wedge said. "Given this outburst I don't want you in a cockpit; that much is for sure. But I do need someone to take on the fifth fleet and you can do a lot less damage as an admiral where we can keep an eye on you."
Jaina regarded him angrily for several seconds before replying. "You're frakin' crazy. You know that, right?"
"Jaina, I came out of retirement for this," Wedge replied. "You haven't even met crazy yet. And you're not going to talk me out of it."
"Will you keep Danni away from me?"
"I can't promise that," Wedge admitted. "But I will say that the Fifth Fleet isn't really a combat fleet. It's made up of all the ships that have been damaged and need repairs, so you'll mostly be managing engineers and technicians. I've heard how good of a mechanic you are, and I thought this would be a good way for you to use your unique blend of skills to both fix up a fleet and learn some command skills to get you ready for a bigger chair. You might run into her during refits, but if you're half as good a mechanic as your uncle told me you are, you can probably handle the refits with your own crew."
Jaina smiled slightly. She had to admit to herself, she was happiest when she was working on machines. Being able to fix something while everything else was falling apart around her brought her a special calm that nothing else seemed to bring.
"Fine. I'll do it. But remember: you asked me."
[[[[#]]]]]]]]=(=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Almost an hour after Fett had collapsed, the Slave IV docked just below an airlock on the newly completed Bogan Obsidian Class Destroyer using the magnetic clamps to hold the two ships together. To prevent detection, Han and Fett approached the airlock using nearly identical suits of Mandalorian armour to hold back the vacuum of space.
"Who knew you had two of these?" Han asked over their encrypted communication channel, gesturing to his blue suit.
"Me," Fett said in a tone of voice indicating that he felt he was answering the dumbest question ever posed in the history of the universe. "That one was my dad's."
"And you kept wearing that beat up piece of scrap instead of switching to this one?" Han asked, gesturing to the pristine condition of his armour in comparison to Fett's scratched and dented set.
"Mandalorian armour is extremely durable," Fett said defensively. He pointed to the dent in the helmet. "But I did most of this myself. See this one? I told everyone that I got it when hunting Jedi. Chucked a boulder at my head with the Force."
"What really happened?" Han asked as he reached the airlock control panel and pulled the casing off.
"Accidentally dropped my helmet off a balcony on Coruscant," Fett said bitterly. "Took me three days to find the damn thing. Some kind of mutant womprat made a nest in it. Do you know how hard it is to get the mutant womprat shavit smell out of a Mandalorian helmet?"
"Yeah, I'd stick to the Jedi hunting story, too," Han admitted. He crossed two wires and a red light on the panel turned green indicating a hard seal had been achieved between two airlocks. "Well, look at that. The system was easier to fool than I thought."
"Ready to open the airlock?" Fett asked.
"Didn't I just say that?"
Fett rolled his eyes, even though Han couldn't see them.
"When you open the airlock, the air will rush out," Fett said, deciding to respond to Han's sarcasm with a lecture. "We'll have to fight against it to get in."
"Yeah, this was my plan," Han reminded Fett with more sarcasm. "Trick the airlock into thinking a ship is here so it wouldn't raise any alarms."
"Just open the damned thing," Fett said, readying himself to rush the escaping air.
"One…Two…"
"Wait," Fett interrupted. "We go on three, or four?"
"One-two-three-go," Han barked. "It isn't that hard."
"But is it on the three, or on the go?" Fett asked. "Because the go would be four."
Han's helmet turned to regard Fett, and the Mandalorian could swear he could feel Han's gaze boring holes through his head. "You don't work with partners often, do you?"
"What was your first clue?"
"On three, you old tin can. One, two, three!"
Han triggered the airlock before Fett could protest and reached into it against the rush of escaping air to grab the handrail just inside the airlock. Despite the small space of the airlock, he knew that the way he had rigged the system the environmental system would not know to shut the airflow off from the rest of the ship, creating a continuous vortex of air impeding their progress. He pulled himself with all his might, swinging a leg through the door and hooked his ankle against the handrail. He used the leverage to pull the rest of himself in, leaving his hand out, still holding the two wires together that kept the airlock, door open. He glanced over at Fett and saw the old clone similarly braced against the opposite handrail, giving him a thumbs-up. Han flicked the two wires apart and yanked his hand back just in time to avoid losing it in the airlock doors as they slammed shut. They both were yanked to the ground by the gravity system and landed heavily on their feet, but neither fell down.
"That was easy," Fett said nonchalantly, even though Han could hear him breathing heavy. "Where to?"
"Two options," Han said, still resting against the wall. "Weapons and power generators. Both go boom."
"We could split up."
"Nah," Han said and shoved himself off the wall. "Where's the fun in that?"
"The weapons will probably be better defended," Fett said. "More potential to be caught."
"Then let's go there," Han said and pulled his blaster pistol from the holster. "You said you wanted to go out with a bang, right?"
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Jacen sat in the pilot seat of Fang staring at a nebula as it gracefully floated in space as it had for millenniums past, and would for millennia in the future, contemplating the information that seemed to be overwhelming his brain. While he stared at the nebula, he hardly noticed the beauty of the colours and gentle contours. His mind was on the disturbing flashes of insight he was getting into Jaina's life through their twin bond, the potentially worsening state of his uncle's condition, and the lengths they had to go to get the information from Pocobello.
Zara did the one thing Jacen decided to never do – she had ripped information so forcefully from Pocobello's mind that it killed him. He hadn't spoken to her since he saw the gleam of insane pleasure in her eye as she told him what she learned, and watched as Pocobello's lifeless body slumped to the deck plating with blood pouring out of his eyes, ears and nose. While he wanted to extract the information from Pocobello, causing harm was not what he had in mind.
Jacen heard the door to the refresher open, and Zara sat down in the co-pilot's seat beside him. He stared out the window adamantly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of him breaking his silence.
"Thank you," Zara finally said. Jacen turned to look at her and, to his surprise, saw a look of genuine appreciation in her eyes. "You saved my life. No other Bogan would have made the effort."
"You're welcome," Jacen said. "I'm still upset with you."
"I know," Zara said. "Call it a difference of professional opinion on interrogation. But...you have gained my respect, Jedi. If I am sorry for anything, it is if I betrayed that."
Jacen's response was interrupted by her placing her hand on his arm. He looked at her angrily, but a desperate look in her eyes caught him off guard.
"Jacen, there is something you need to know," Zara said. "Lord Krayt gave me another mission, one I know I cannot fulfill. He wanted me to seduce you. He felt that if the power of the Dark Side was not enough to sway you to join him, I might be."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I owe you," Zara said with a measure of newfound humility. "And I want you to be prepared in case..."
The appearance of Darth Krayt's holographic image on the module between Jacen and Zara cut off her statement.
"Report," Krayt barked.
Jacen leaned back and crossed his arms, letting Zara take over.
"Lord Krayt," she said, her demeanour instantly changed from sad solemnity to stern professional. "We have learned the identity of the new Underlord of the Black Sun."
"Excellent," Krayt said. "Proceed to Umbara immediately. I will meet you at our base there to discuss."
As soon as the image of Krayt disappeared, Jacen stood up.
"Plot the course. I'm going to bed."
"I used to dance," Zara said softly. The vulnerability in her voice stopped him in his tracks. "You asked what I did for fun. On Ryloth we all learned how to dance. It was our culture, but it had been twisted into perversion by slave traders across the galaxy. I...we were eight when they came for us. They killed my parents and took me and my sisters. My sisters were older than me. They tried fighting, to protect me...and they died. I lost my family that night. And my freedom."
"So you joined the Bogan to win it back?"
"Four years later Wyyrlok found me," Zara continued as if he hadn't spoken. "He sensed the Force within me and freed me from slavery. I was a broken shell of a girl. I spent years in training, learning how to fight so I could be strong again. I fought harder than any of my peers. But today, that wasn't enough. Today, I would have been dead if not for a Jedi I swore to kill."
After a moment of silence, Jacen finally spoke. "Do you still dance?"
"Not since I met Wyyrlok," Zara said. "Dancing became my prison. I do not want to be reminded of it now that I'm free."
Jacen turned around and noticed she was still looking out the window into the depths of space. He put a hand on her shoulder and whispered softly in her ear. "Zara, nobody who follows the Sith is free. You traded one master for another."
Zara shot out of the chair and jumped to her full height, her eyes blazing yellow and red as she drew from the dark side of the Force. "The Sith set me free! You don't know the hell I lived through while you went to your posh schools and..."
Jacen gently put his right index finger against her mouth, silencing her. He was surprised it actually worked, but he suspected the sad sincerity in his face worked in his favour.
"I'm not going to debate origin stories," Jacen said, removing his finger from her lips and putting his hand on her shoulder again. "And I'm not going to get preachy on you. But I want you to think about two things. The first one is, right now you're working for Krayt, doing his bidding, and all you ever get is a pat on the head. You'll never be more than an assassin, doing what he wants you to do until you get killed on a mission, and I don't think you really have much more ambition than that."
Zara swallowed hard, still staring at Jacen, but the yellow and red faded from her eyes, returning to their natural blue. Her lack of protest, he took as a sign that she realized the truth in his words.
"The other?"
"Everyone should have something to fight for," Jacen answered. "I fight to protect my family, friends and justice. Some people fight for money, prestige, or galactic domination. You should figure out what's really important to you, because I don't think it is being someone else's lacky."
Jacen finally retreated and made it to his bunk, but that night Zara spent a long time staring into the depths of hyperspace.
[[[[#]]]]]]]]=(=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Eriana, still wearing her Jensaraai armour, watched the salvage process of the Bogan Destroyer from the bridge of her Victory II Star Destroyer with a quiet demeanour that both puzzled and terrified her crew. After General Cooper had destroyed the Bogan Destroyer, Eriana had lost her temper. To a degree, she was ashamed of herself at the amount of screaming she did over a fleet wide broadcast, but the knowledge that she did not harm anyone kept her focused on keeping her cool. With her reputation among the Black Vornskrs, and her tone of voice, nobody dared hesitate in executing her orders to have General Cooper shackled and dragged to her. She also ordered Pulastra and Stragoron to do the dragging if they didn't want the same to be done to them. While everyone had been scared when she had been screaming orders across the open channel, they were terrified of what her silence meant now.
Needless to say, none of the Black Vornskr pirate crew were willing to cross her if she was on the verge of executing one of her generals.
"Fleet wide damage report," one particularly brave technician approached her and held out a datapad. She slowly turned to look at him, the angry eyes of the Bha'lir sculpted into her helmet bringing some level of terror to his heart. She could sense his heart beat quicken, pounding away in his chest like a drum.
"Thank you," Eriana said softly and held out a gloved hand. He placed the datapad on top of her fingers, but she did not grab it. "Why are you afraid of me?"
The pirate swallowed hard and looked at the helmet as if unsure if she had spoken. After several tense seconds he finally spoke.
"The fleet failed you, ma'am," he said bravely. "We shouldn't have let you down."
"No, the fleet did well." Eriana finally took the datapad and glanced at the top line. She pointed out toward the Bogan Destroyer. "Look at that, Technician Marcus. This is the first victory anyone has claimed against one of those ships, and we did it with less than ten percent of our ships claiming operational damage. What were our total losses?"
"We lost thirty fighters and the Orothos is having problems with their shield emitters, ma'am," Marcus said. "All of the pilots have been recovered."
"Exactly," Eriana said. "We won a battle against a ship that has taken out fleets twice the size of ours, and we did it without any significant losses. The Black Vornskrs have proven themselves a force to be reckoned with."
"Then why are you angry?" A familiar voice came from behind Eriana.
"Because they're not supposed to know we're a force to be reckoned with!" she snapped and turned around. Marcus retreated to his station as Eriana crossed the bridge of the Star Destroyer, meeting Stragoron and Pulastra half way from the door. Restrained by the other two generals was Cooper, a large purple bruise developing over his left eye and shackles restraining his wrists and ankles together. "Explain your actions, Don. Last chance before I have you thrown out an airlock."
Don Cooper rose to his feet and looked at Eriana, trying to impress her with his height, but failing utterly. The fact that Stragoron and Pulastra, two large muscular humans, looked terrified of her did not help his attempt.
"Here, in front of everyone?"
"Yes."
"Fine," Cooper said. "Your plan to capture that ship was a fool's errand. We don't have the manpower to capture a ship full of Bogan warriors, and we've been too long without a decisive victory. We've been skulking around in the shadows running away from them as they hunt us down. This was our first chance to strike back and show them who we are, and we had to take it. If we didn't destroy that ship, we'd only prove to them that we're not half the pirate fleet you want to pretend we are."
Eriana lashed out and back-fisted the offending general across the face, splitting his lip open with the sharp edge of her cortosis armoured glove.
"My plan was to disable the ship, bleed the air into space, and break in with a specialized team to extract information from the data core which could lead to destroying the entire Bogan Empire! I'd bloody well love to know how we're going to do that with the ship floating in two halves and a destroyed power core!" Eriana snapped. "After that was done, then we could salvage anything of importance so we could actually pay our people for their hard work, drag the ship to Coruscant, and blow the hell out of it right in front of their senate to send a real message. Now all I have is a big wreck of a ship around some backwater planet that does us damn near nothing. Maybe we'll find something useful; maybe it's just a load of twisted scrap that we can use for target practice."
"We're not going to win this war by playing it safe, Eriana."
"You want to take a gamble?" Eriana paced away from him. "I'm going to make a wager with you, General Cooper. If my crews are able to salvage the information I need, you get to live and fight another day. If they don't, you don't. Someone throw him in an airlock. He'll wait there until I find what I'm looking for."
