Kurik Otela – Jack of Trades
The pilot would've felt a lot better about their chances if they had a full crew. Or a few more ships. Or an entire army of clones. Or more Jedi.
Literally anybody else would be welcome in their assault against what would assuredly be some kind of school for dark side Force-users. He had faith in General Durel and Padawan Halai, but they were only two people.
And, of course, there was his task from Jabba.
He was anxious about taking a job under Dilt's nose, but the Twi'lek had been right. He needed to start establishing himself independent of the captain if he wanted to get anywhere in the galaxy. Working in with Jabba would be a good way, but Kurik intended to be careful around the Hutt.
Luckily, all he had to do was find a datapad that had apparently been swiped from one of the crime lord's smugglers. Not a difficult task, and there was little moral ambiguity involved.
"I can't believe we're going to do this alone," Kurik muttered.
"Alone?" The Jedi Knight raised his eyebrow and looked back to the blue and white streams of light flashing past their shielding. "Hm."
"So how are we playing this?" Dilt asked. "What's the division of labor gonna look like?"
"We'll see when we get there, Captain Hekteros."
"Aren't you Jedi supposed to be all about planning this kind of thing?" the starship captain asked, looking around. "Aren't you supposed to have any kind of clue about what we're getting into?"
"I am not omnipotent. We will see what's there when we get there. For now, you and your pilot just need to concentrate on getting us to the fight."
"Speaking of which," Kurik said, noting a small timer emblazoned red and counting down, "get ready, because here we go."
When Kurik dropped out of hyperspace, he paused at the scene before him.
The Separatists were there in force, a full fleet of a half-dozen starcruisers and nearly a hundred smaller ships filling the void between them and the station that was their destination. The only thing missing from the fleet was one of their half-circle battleships so typically seen in blockades.
The station itself looked strange, more like a floating fortress than an actual station. High walls, only a few landing pads, and completing the look were a couple of spires in the rear, one of which would likely contain the control room for the whole installation.
But the Separatists weren't alone.
Mixed in between them were elements of a Republic fleet; starcruisers, fighters, and bombers were cutting across the enemy ships with a ferocity far more pronounced than most battles.
"This is Admiral Katen," a stiff, haughty voice reported over his speaker. "General Durel, is that you?"
"Yes it is, Admiral. Clear us a path as best you can. We've got a good pilot, but he'll require a little assistance to punch us through."
"Understood, General."
The battle noticeably shifted, the Republic ships all distancing themselves from the Separatists. The enemy gave chase, only to find that the vessels weren't retreating so much as moving back into pockets of resistance.
It had the intended effect, stretching out the enemy force and making it easier for their ship to pass through.
Not that it was perfect. There were still plenty of ships between them and the strange station.
"Alright, kid," Dilt said. "Let's really show our passengers what you can do."
Through the chaos of lasers and torpedoes, Kurik managed to guide their vessel. The swirling gray ahead was interrupted by colliding blasts of energy, solid forms making themselves known far ahead of time and allowing him to twist around them with an ease.
At one time, his ability to avoid the enemy had seemed uncanny, some unnatural skill that left everyone but Dilt nervous around him. Now he knew why, that the Force wasn't just affecting his vision.
"How're we going to get into that station?" Neria asked as Kurik dove low under a Separatist starcruiser and avoided the fire from its turrets.
"They'll have it shielded," Durel told them. "Force-users still need oxygen, they'll have an atmosphere in there. All we have to do is punch through the shield. Do we have anything on the ship that'll help?"
"We do, as it happens," the captain answered as they swerved around a small dogfight. "Something unique, as it happens."
"What do you mean?" Durel asked.
"Pretty simple, really. You may notice that droids manage to pass through their own shields with ease, and more importantly, those droid fighters."
"You can't mean..."
"Kid, change the signature."
It took him a moment to scroll through the list of signatures they'd stolen over the years—forcibly or through less violent means. He found 'Clanker Droid Ship' and pressed down on it.
Suddenly, they were seeing a little less fire from the Separatists, although the same couldn't be said of the Republic. A few smaller vessels were suddenly on their tail, almost all of them fighters. General Durel turned to the rear of the ship.
"I'll handle them," he said.
Kurik didn't see what he did, but he did feel a sudden massive outpouring of power. For a few moments, he was forced to continue pushing their ship around the fire of friendly pilots, then it suddenly eased, the alarms going silent.
"Nice one," Dilt said.
They emerged from the chaos and into the clearing around the enemy station. Kurik found an outcropping through the shimmering shield, a landing pad outside a door.
"Alright," he said. "We're going in."
There was no resistance from the shield, no attempt to force them away. The shield opened up in just the slightest, giving them enough room to slip through as the control room misinterpreted their signal.
As they descended, he saw battle droids rushing out to meet them. He held in a scoff as they ineffectively fired up at him, instead reaching for a button and depressing it.
A torpedo fired from under the nose of the vessel, directionless and off-target. Yet he felt Neria and Durel both reach out for it, directing it to the target at the landing pad.
The ensuing blast shook the vessel, but they were otherwise left unharmed, bits of metal strewn all across the landing pad.
They quickly set down, movement visible in every window they could see. The Jedi didn't need to tell them to move, all of the crew surging to the back and quickly descending down the hatch and greeted by the wail of alarms.
As well as three people.
Two Torgrutan and a Rodian, of all things. The Rodian looked to be the older one, taller and radiating red in a way that nearly matched Durel. The students, on the other hand, seemed to flicker with red and grey, far from the occasional pulsing of soft blue from Neria.
He wondered if they could sense that vein of darkness in her.
Their swirling robes parted, familiar cylindrical weapons coming to hand.
"Padawan," General Durel said quietly. "I'll take their leader, you take the students."
"Yes, Master Durel."
They practically mirrored their opponents, drawing their own weapons but dropping their robes, too. Four beams of light activated, two green and two blue. Both the apprentices looked between each other, their fears understandable. Few Jedi preferred using either a pair of lightsabers or dual sabers, and their enemies had both.
"She'll be less coordinated with two weapons, students," the teacher said in a wheezing voice, with all the concern of one giving a class. "Keep your guard up."
And with that, he launched himself at Durel, who blocked the beam but seemed surprised by how quick the teacher was. Indeed, within moments, the fierce flurry of blows was driving the Jedi Knight backward, the attacks being met easily but leaving him unable to assist his padawan.
For her part, Neria didn't seem to need it. The two students started out cautious, but upon receiving little retaliation for each attack, they grew bolder. By the time Kurik had turned to them, they were lashing out with powerful but unsteady swings, easily caught by Neria as she deftly seemed to summon her sabers exactly where they needed to be no matter where the apprentices attacked from.
Kurik was unsure of who to assist, and he wasn't the only one. The clones and the corporal were all looking between the two, but the stalemate ended when Tank pointed at him.
"Kid," the captain said. "You, Dilt, and the corporal take the apprentices, we'll help the general."
A fair division of labor. The three weren't quite as able as the clones, but they would also be taking the easier of the two battles.
Kurik rushed to help Neria, Gebb-Ti right behind him. He angled his pistol up to the apprentices, ready to shoot when he had an opening, but Neria held a hand out to him in a brief window between attacks.
"No!" she shouted. "Don't kill them!"
One of the apprentices leaped forward to attack them, but Neria was in his way immediately, making a close block with one saber and then holding the other out point-first to the other to halt her advance.
Kurik realized that while he couldn't kill the apprentices, that didn't mean he couldn't wound them.
He extended the blaster past Neria and fired low, catching her struggling opponent in the thigh. He cried out and dropped to a knee, and the Twi'lek padawan was easily able to bring the hilt of her lightaber to bear and catch him in the temple. The young man dropped to a heap on the ground.
The girl cried out in outrage, her strikes becoming strangely measured as she flared red. She'd taken the defeat of the young man personally.
Neria was still able to hold her back, lightsaber blocking in front while the one in her other hand forced her opponent away.
Dilt was suddenly behind her, scooping his arms up under her shoulders and keeping her from escaping. Neria gave her the same treatment she'd given the young man, knocking him out cold.
"Thanks for the help," she said as she collected their lightsabers and placed them on her belt. "Dilt, Corporal Gebb-Ti, will you lock them up back on the ship?"
"Is that safe?" Dilt asked. "Can't they do that mind-trick on us?"
"Has that mind trick ever worked on you?"
A valid question. Kurik knew that those of a strong or slippery mind were difficult to easily persuade, and Dilt had both. He'd seen a Jedi try to play that trick on Dilt before to force a change of destination, and it hadn't worked.
"Fair point. I'll send the corporal back once we have 'em locked away."
The two started dragging the assassins away, and Neria looked around, gaze coming to a rest on Kurik.
"Where's Master Durel?"
"He was fighting with the instructor!"
Kurik stayed alongside her as they ran through the doors and to the aid of the Jedi Knight. As they passed through the corridors, he noted the remnants of nearly a half-dozen battle droids scattered about through the hallways.
Kurik fought down the unease he felt, the worry that they would get there to fight General Durel already dead.
To his relief, they found him still battling the instructor in an intersection, the clones warding off a wave of battle droids behind the general. The Jedi Knight himself was still pressing, still giving the instructor far more than he could reasonably handle.
"I'm here!" Neria shouted, a reassurance to her master that she was ready to help.
The instructor glanced her way as she jumped toward him, seemed to sneer, then issued some unintelligible command to the droids.
"Evasion simulation, roger roger."
"They're gonna blow!" Tank shouted as Neria's saber made contact with the instructor's.
The instructor held a hand out, shoving General Durel away. Dreamer tackled Neria. Kurik just backpedaled away, knocking over Corporal Gebb-Ti in the process.
Then came an explosion, a detonation that knocked Kurik off his feet. The blast nearly left him deaf, and it was only by lack of eyes that he was able to see the intersection come down in a blur of debris.
When it was over, General Durel was already there at the debris, hand up against it and worry radiating from his sapphire form.
"Padawan!"
"I'm okay!"
"No you're not, little one," the wheezing voice of the Rodian said. "Your master's not here to save you now."
A clash of lightsabers from the other side of the debris.
"I don't think I'm the one who needs saving."
The squeals and whines of the attacks carried on down the corridor, fading away and eventually going silent.
"Padwan Halai is in trouble," General Durel said. "She's tough, but he'll wear her down or surround her. We have to find another way around."
"Yes sir, we'll...Where's Dreamer?"
"Must be with her." He nodded. "I can only hope, he should be able to help. Come on, we need to find her fast."
"Yes sir."