There are ways of being kind people are afraid to use.
Nial
:_:
Days passed on.
Ben was sitting on a crate in the hangar, awaiting the promised Jedi support he and Wandaq requested few days ago.
He thought that words "Sith captives" will interest the Council enough to send someone immediately.
It apparently didn't.
He was grooming his blaster, which, years ago, belonged to his mother, Mara Jade Skywalker.
One of the Mandalorians walked up to him, emanating shyness unusual for them.
"Hello, al'verde," she said.
"Hello," he answered. "But I'm not your commander."
"I know," she said. "How am I supposed to call you then?"
"You can call me Ben," he proposed, then smiled at her reluctance. "Or Jedi Skywalker like everyone else."
"Okay," she nodded. "Jetii Skywalker."
He moved over on the crate to create some free place on it, then motioned the mandalorian to sit.
"Vor'e," she said and removed her helmet.
Ben had already spent quite a time with Norso's Mandalorian security, enough for him to catch up on some words in mando'a. Like thanks, what the girl just said.
She was not older than him, with almost disturbing lovely face with eyes indicating a cool-headed temper, with a touch of a cockiness deeply depressed behind all the battle-hardened gut and coolness.
She sat down next to him, her back touching his as they both faced opposite hangar walls.
She drew out her own weapon, heavy repeating blaster which looked almost ridiculous in her small hands.
Ben sneaked a glance at the girl. "Your parents are Mandalorians?" he asked.
"Mom's not," she said. "Why?"
He cast a glance on her. "You don't look like mando."
She shrugged. "I'm small compared to the others, but I am as much mando as they."
Ben could sense she was touched by his statement. "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "I meant that the other girls have this mannish stature and so…" he found himself lost in his own speech. "Damn, I meant that you're pretty."
There was a hint of grin on her face. She turned to him. Her fair hair was tressed into something resembling a mass of thick, wooly braids and tied back with a leather cord with a plenty of colorful beads adorning it. "Vor'e, Jetii Skywalker," she said. "I value the try."
Ben smiled. "Can I make any reparations for it?"
She shrugged. "A buy'ce gal will do."
He suddenly felt a familiar presence brushing his, joyful, eager, but still controlled.
"Then we have a deal," he said, standing up. "But it will have to wait a while. Our backup's here."
She gathered up her helmet and stood up, too, flashing him a brief smile when she put it back on. "I'll let the boss know."
"Thanks."
"It's my work."
She marched away and left Ben behind, expectant, satisfied, happy and just a little embarrassed.
Through the transparent atmospheric field, he saw a silvery-green flash when a shuttle emerged from the hyperspace.
Illuminated by Gwallish's white sun, Gwa, the shuttle looked like a ghost ship, shiny and appearing nearly translucent.
It swam through the dotted starfield with a grace that left no question about its pilot's abilities.
His comlink made multiple tweeting tones.
Not shifting his eyes from the approaching craft, he drew it from his pocket and snapped it open.
"Skywalker. If you want to tell me that they're coming…"
"That's Wandaq. Sith woman blacked out. Too much of toxin."
Ben grimaced. "We should have asked Master Cilghal after all."
"Why?"
Ben's grimace faded. "Wandaq…"
"I know. Just kidding. I'm in the hangar in a minute. Keep them in. I want to fall out with someone."
He shook his head as the comlink went dead.
He commed the bridge about the approaching vessel and waited for Wandaq to come.
As always, his minute extended to five and he missed the arrival.
The shuttle slipped into the hangar and dropped on its struts. It was sage-green and svelte, certainly not the battered military transport he expected.
Its boarding ramp descended.
A head appeared in the hatch and Ben waved at it.
Head smiled broadly and the body slipped into his view, too, leaving him to wonder when his friend had grown up that much.
Her regal-looking face, lined with golden-red hair was visibly older, her grey eyes cheerful but sad in their essence, slender body dressed in grey jumpsuit that enlaced her curves just enough to be elegant much more womanlike than he remembered it.
She hovered at the ramp's top, looking perfectly controlled again, only her eyes revealing that she would like to jump down the ramp and throw herself into his arms.
Allana Djo Solo, Hapan Chume'da, descended the ramp slowly and loftily, ending her tread in front of him.
Her mouth expanded into another smile as she nodded to him.
"Jedi Skywalker," she said.
Ben bowed to her. "Chume'da."
When the court stuff was finished, Allana finally stepped forward and crushed him in a hug Ben wouldn't believe she was capable of. He returned it with more care, but equal warmth.
The last five years – after Ben's father had died – he and Allana grew close. Allana – at Tenel Ka's request – was trained by Jedi in the academy while Ben, mourning his father and lacking action, was there, too, helping Masters with training.
Ben was actually closest to Allana in their family as to age, but bit more experienced, so he assumed a post of Allana's mentor, seconding her master.
Allana drew back. "You look old, Ben."
Since they still didn't work out how exactly is their relation called, they decided just to call themselves with first names.
"And you look pretty much grown-up, Allana," he said, his voice betraying his mild sadness he felt about it.
She nodded, poking his shoulder. "Come on, old man. I'm still not a retiree."
He shrugged. "Neither am I."
He was actually twenty four. That didn't mean retiree in Jedi society. Not at all.
"Where's your Master?" he asked.
"On my way," Jaina Solo said, stepping down the ramp.
She was still Ben's hot-headed cousin who used to crack jokes as often as bones, no matter how much she looked like someone who can easily be Ben's mother.
She was clad in Master's robes, her lightsaber dangling on her hip.
She was promoted in the height of the Abeloth crisis, after Kenth Hamner's death.
Some Masters were not sure about if in the beginning, some still seeing her more as a soldier than a Jedi, but Jaina proved herself worthy of the privilege.
But it was still pretty nasty of the Council to assign Allana to her as her first apprentice, given her parentage.
"Hi, Jaina."
She gave him a tight smile and hugged him quickly. She was actually a bit shorter than him, which made it harder for him to see her as someone highly over-ranking him.
"Hi, Ben. How're you?"
Ben shrugged. "Better than the last time."
"Better than being shot down by space pirates?" Allana asked.
"It was crossfire," Ben defended himself. "And yes, much better."
"That's nice to know," Jaina said, "Since your ship's crawling with Sith hostages."
"They are just four."
"Four is too much when you speak about Sith," Jaina retorted and casted an apologetic glance at Allana, who seemed untouched by the retort.
"Good thing is we have proper cells," Ben said.
Jaina wanted to say something, but was cut off by a signaling sound of Ben's comlink.
"Excuse me," he said and drew it from his pocket.
"Suit yourself," Jaina said, motioning Allana to follow her back up into the shuttle.
Comlink's outer display read DIPLOMAT BAWAN. Ben sighed and snapped it open.
"Skywa…" he began to speak.
"Jedi Skywalker," Bawan's grumpy voice sounded, interrupting him. "I heard the Jedi we demanded are already here."
"That's true, Diplomat Baw…"
Bawan interrupted him again, leaving him to wonder if this was the reason of his diplomatic successfulness. "Very well. I want to meet them in the conference room. Right now."
"As you wish, Dip…"
"Immediately, Jedi Skywalker."
"Yessir," Ben said quickly, trying to complete at least one sentence.
The comlink went dead.
Ben returned it into his pocket, walking up to the bottom of the ramp. "Jaina?" he called.
"Just a moment!" Allana called in response.
Ben sensed a movement behind him and turned just in time to see Wandaq emerging from behind a matte black StealthX.
"Long live the Jedi Council," he said caustically. "It seems they finally decided to shake a leg and get to help us."
Ben shrugged. "They could as well leave us there unsupported."
"I doubt that, Skywalker," the Snivvian Jedi said as he paced toward him. "Council is always jumpy when they hear the word Sith. Bad is that jumpy doesn't mean quick. At least not to them." He frowned at the shuttle. "You spoke with the Old man?"
Ben nodded. "Yeah. He wants to have us in the confroom immediately," he raised his voice and turned toward the hatch, "Which means we should hurry up!"
"We hear you, Ben!" Allana shouted again and appeared in the hatch with a huge box trailing her, floating. Her mass of red hair was tied up into a ponytail which swung from side to side as she stumbled down the ramp.
"What's this?" Wandaq asked.
"New starfighter equipment," Jaina explained and followed her niece down the ramp. She floated her box in shoulder height, balancing it above her palm. "It's still not tested. Incom wanted some Jedi to field-test it."
"In case something gone wrong," Ben guessed.
"By wrong you mean wrong as in explosion?" Wandaq asked, eyeing the silvery boxes.
"I think you're right," Ben said, casting a glance at his cousin. "I suppose that's why Jaina wants to try it."
"You really don't think high of me, Ben," Jaina said and laid the box at the lower part of the ramp, right next to Allana's.
Allana suppressed a Solo-like grin. "Yeah, don't treat my master like that, Jedi Skywalker."
Ben actually grinned. "Forgive me, Master Solo," he said melodramatically and offered them both a low bow. "I beg your deepest pardon, as well as young Chume'da's."
Wandaq grimaced. "Stop fooling around, Skywalker," he said and turned to Jaina. "Master Solo, Diplomat Bawan wishes to speak with you about those prisoners."
Jaina nodded. "Let's go, then. Technical things can wait."
"I can stay here with Ben and mount them," Allana offered.
Jaina shook her head and followed Wandaq to the turbolifts. "No. Come with me."
Allana nodded. "Yes, Aunt Jaina."