Kurik Otela – Jack of Trades
It quickly became clear to Kurik that Dreamer was simply a passable pilot. He had little mind for evasion or trickery, and the Miralukan was certain that the clone's victory over the fighters had simply been a product of the Corellian Corvette as opposed to his own skill.
The smoking grays of the clouds around them was all the more pronounced for Kurik's sight, a maelstrom of gray and black smoke.
Next to him, Neria watched on, the Jedi Knight only storm more intense than the one raging outside the cargo ship. Even as his blind gaze met her eyes, he felt a short shiver claw its way up his spine.
Running from the temple had been no easy task for her, that much was certain. Jedi had died by the hundreds in that temple, children and adults alike. He'd seen the classes as he'd walked through, there had been children even younger than the ones Neria had managed to extract. Leaving it couldn't have been easy, but he'd sensed the presence in that temple. Had she not withdrawn, they would've all met the same fate.
Now it was his turn. He'd been the one stupid enough to go back to the temple, convinced he'd be able to pull Neria out of there without anyone noticing. Instead, he'd be wanted on Coruscant, if not across the Republic. His only hope was that the Republic would be too preoccupied with whatever had seen them massacring the Jedi to add him to any wide-ranging lists.
"Alright," he muttered, looking down at the scans ahead. "Alright, we've got a tiny hole I can work with. I hope Dreamer can keep up."
"Me too." Neria's head turned to him. "He's in pain, Kurik. He's hurting."
Kurik just nodded in response, looking down at the ship-to-ship communication console in front of him. He hit a control and opened a channel to the Corellian Corvette.
"We're headed up," Kurik told Dreamer. "You still in condition to fly?"
"I'll be fine, kid." He certainly didn't sound it, his voice strained and curt. "I'm on your six."
Kurik grabbed the controls and pulled back, forcing the Jack of Trades up and into the atmosphere. Next to him, Neria hit a couple of buttons, redirecting the power for the deflector shields to the front.
"One cruiser, one squadron," Kurik muttered, "C'mon, c'mon."
"This thing's a blockade runner, right?"
"Yeah, I'm more worried about the corvette. That's not a ship for gunning past blockades."
Neria stared out the translucent glass as they approached the blockade. They had the poor luck to face down a Republic Attack Cruiser, the triangular warship a looming presence that threatened to undo them all by itself.
Yet it was joined by a squadron of Z-95. They were an aging model that wasn't quite as efficient as the ARC-170, but they were still maneuverable enough to give the ships trouble. The eleven fighters were already in a "V" formation, wheeling down and around in order to intercept the escapees.
Even the lumbering cruiser was angling downward, a hulking threat armed to the teeth and ready to kill. He wondered how many clones were aboard, just itching for the chance to kill more Jedi, desperate to have their final say in a war gone so wrong in nearly every way.
Kurik almost wanted to risk entering hyperspace, was tempted to warm the engines for a jump, but the corvette was in no way ready to jump. With that thought in mind, he typed in a set of coordinates and transmitted it to the corvette, along with a brief order to start up their hyperdrive.
He looked up to see the squadron fast approaching, the cruiser angling itself to block them up front. They were about to boxed in.
"Here we go."
Kurik pushed the ship downward abruptly, firing into a starfighter that tried to block his way. A trio of red bolts cut right through the middle, splitting the ship enough that the deflectors were able to push the debris out of the way and allow them through.
The corvette swung up, an ill-advised move that separated the two of them. If it had only been the squadron, that would've been fine, but allowing the cruiser to fire at them with different sets of weapons as opposed to one set would leave them taking more fire than if they'd stayed together.
Next to Kurik, Neria shifted the deflector power again. Just in time, as well, as blaster fire started striking at their stern.
Kurik growled a curse and pulled the controls back, raising them up into a steep climb that pressed him back into his chair. Then he yanked the controls even further, effectively flipping the ship until it was aiming 'downward'.
Four ships were chasing him, now in his sights. They continued to fire, hoping to stop him before he could shoot again.
His shields were too strong for a few hits from starfighters to bring down, and he pulled the ship into a spin to help allay some of the incoming fire as he shot back.
In the somewhat uncontrolled spin, he managed to shred a pair of the Z-95s, blasting through them and pulling back to a level axis just in time to see the Corellian Corvetter bring down a pair of its own.
That left them with only a half-dozen fighters, more than easy enough for the two heavier vessels to take.
Unfortunately, the Republic starfighters were joined by the cruiser.
A blast that rocked the cargo ship alerted Kurik to the new entrant to the battle. He didn't see the cruiser, but the location of the blast told him exactly where it was located.
He sped up, racing to catch the Corellian Corvette. With the enemy cruiser opening fire on the smaller class of vessel, Dreamer appeared beleaguered and confused. Perhaps it was just a product of his inexperience in the vacuum; for all that he knew how to pilot a ship, it was clear to Kurik that his experience hadn't been in combat. He'd made several poor choices throughout the rescue, mistakes that wouldn't have been made by even an average combat pilot.
Footsteps at the door alerted him to a newcomer, and he spared a moment to check over his shoulder, finding one of the Togrutan siblings behind them. He was discomforted at having a dark side user at his back, the worst place for one, but he was assured that she knew his death would mean hers moments later.
"What's happening?"
"Get back," Neria responded. "We're trying to punch our way out up here."
"Can—Can you do it?"
"If I can't, you'll be one of the first to know." Another glance found an empty seat next to her and unfortunately, right behind him. "Sit down, quickly."
A pulse of red from her as she reacted to the order, but she mercifully seemed to realize that it wasn't the time for argument. Instead, she stayed quiet and took a seat behind him, buckling herself in.
The corvette was slowing under all the incoming fire, and Kurik took the opportunity to dive just under the support vessel and blast a pair of fighters on its underside, allowing Dreamer to push the ship down and give him a little breathing room.
Unfortunately, the fighters who'd been chasing Kurik seemed to understand that the corvette was the easier target, even if the ship itself was larger and more deadly. They turned away from the Jack of Trades and put themselves in front of the ship, forcing Dreamer to slow down and making him an easier target for the
Kurik flipped the cargo ship back around, easing up alongside the corvette and carefully keeping on its flank. He opened up on the starships keeping the corvette slow,
The Miralukan pilot called up the corvette. "Get your rear deflectors ready, we're making a run for it!" he yelled. "Dreamer, you copy?"
"Yeah." His voice sounded labored, tired. "Just...Just lead the way, I have the coordinates locked in."
It was no small mercy that the clone fell in obediently behind Kurik, allowing the young pilot to guide him. The Jack of Trades and the corvette both soaked up the fire from the fighters, desperately trying to outlast them as they angled toward the tip of the Republic cruiser.
The smuggler's ship pitched and rocked with each hit, a tense ride as they tried to jet past the enemy cruiser with the corvette in close pursuit. Behind the corvette, a trio of starfighters continued to give chase.
Kurik pinpointed each of the turrets, gray protrusions firing flashing red. He did all that he could to avoid them, feeling where they would fire even before they took a shot. The Force kept him ahead of the shots, but the same couldn't be said for the corvette.
Dreamer's vessel was taking hits, its deflector flashing with each strike. As they passed over the cruiser's nose, fleeing quickly, the corvette's shields finally started to give out, sputtering and flashing intermittently.
Yet if there was one advantage to the corvette, it was that the vessel was sturdier than most of its class. It took the hits with an obvious pain, but even as it shuddered and its chassis bent, it continued on through the fire. Even its engines managed to absorb the starfighters' withering fire with a stoicism, eventually pushing the ship out of the cruiser's range.
And that gave them the opening they both needed. Kurik slowed his vessel, drifting behind the corvette and allowing the cargo ship to soak up some of the starfighters' fury. Though Kurik kept a steady eye on the shields, they were still holding.
"Alright," Kurik said, voice straining with the effort of worrying about both ships. "Dreamer, you there? Jump now!"
The call wasn't answered immediately by action, and Kurik's heart skipped a beat as the ship simply listed, a lazy and aimless course. Then a strange voice came in over their comms console, one noticeably Rodian.
"This is Corporal Looto." The high-pitched wheezing voice was high, fear stretching it into a near-whine. "Republic Senate Security."
Senate? Kurik wondered. If they're here, they could sell us out.
They were in something of a tense situation, the fighters still firing and distant security around Coruscant racing to try to catch up, but the worry was too great for Kurik to just ignore.
"Which senator?" Neria asked, beating him to the punch.
"Don't worry, she's on your side. Where's the control for the hyperspace? I've only ever been a co-pilot, I don't know where it is."
"It'll be the lever on the right of the acceleration controls. Push the button above it, then push that lever all the way up."
He didn't answer, but it didn't matter. After a worrying moment, a beat in which Kurik wondered if they were truly about to die in the middle of space because no one on the corvette knew how to work a hyperdrive, there was a familiar blaze in the engines.
Then, suddenly, the corvette simply winked out of existence.
"Go, go," Neria said unnecessarily, hand planted on one of the controls.
Kurik did just that, pushing the lever up with all the force he had. With a whine that echoed through the ship, their engines pushed them into hyperspace, too.
They'd escaped. Even thought there would be endless trials ahead for Neria, and he'd have to hide himself, they had managed to slip out of the most heavily-secured world in the Republic.
"There," Kurik muttered, tension easing out of him. "There. We're out."
"Good thing, too," Neria said. He turned to find her coming out of a trance, a gray and blue fire next to him. "Dreamer went dark."
"Is he alright?"
"No, but there are other people on that vessel—Allies, obviously. They'll take care of him, at least until we get to our destination." She paused, then peered at him. "What is our destination?"
"Just a patch of empty space," he told her. "It was somewhere that...that Dilt and I were supposed to use as a fast escape. From there, I don't know."
"Me neither." A flare of gray, a red vein within throbbing, then she was back to blue. "I'll figure something out."