Chapter Ten
Hoppie was completely at a loss for what to do next. All his life, all thirteen years of it, he had been told what to do. He had orders, instructions, and a detailed standard operating procedure. As a commando, creativity had been encouraged, but only within the parameters of the mission. In battle tactics and combat strategy. But this was totally different. There were no orders to follow, and no training to fall back on for his current situation. Now, for the first time, he had to create the mission himself. And that was terrifying.
He had gone AWOL, betrayed his army, and abandoned his brothers. All he knew was saving Kyra Dawnstar was the right thing to do. Helping her was his mission.
He carried her to the Western entrance of the hangar and set her down gently. He peeked inside and sure enough there was a platoon of soldiers standing guard while the freed slaves were waiting to be taken to the cruiser.
"Well, Kriff."
Hoppie needed a diversion, but he was good at those. He moved back to Kyra and escorted her into an alcove.
"Don't move, okay?" he said. "Stay out of sight."
She didn't respond, just lay there with her face scrunched tight, her body quivering, almost convulsing.
Hoppie sprinted down the corridor and then made a right, turning towards the main hangar entrance corridor. It was a big hangar, so he was running for over a minute, passing several other doorways, and praying he didn't run into one of those freakish, man-eating bugs.
Luckily, none came screeching out of the dark. In fact, he hadn't seen any clones either, so he continued across that corridor to the Eastern hangar entrance corridor, so another minute of running.
No troops again. Where was everyone? An explosion several floors up, and further away answered his question. The colicoids were still battling it out with Wolf Squadron.
"Now or never," he whispered.
He activated his comlink, "Jedi spotted. Engaging," then fired several laser blasts into the wall while he was still transmitting for effect. "Near the Eastern hangar entrance." He then threw his grenade and the explosion shook the walls. Now he only had one thermal detonator left.
Immediately, there were replies on the channel, the nearest platoon moving to intercept. Hoppie sprinted back the way he came. He heard armor rattling, and quickly ducked into a doorway, and waited for the troops to pass by. As soon as they were gone, he continued running through the rock hallway, and made it back to Kyra. He carried her into the hangar where no troopers stood. But they'd be back any moment.
He moved her to the slaves, fatigue starting to set it, his back muscles screaming in pain from supporting her this much. He gently laid her down in the middle of over a thousand slaves when he found who he was looking for.
"Captain Ackbar," he said, startling the weary Mon Calamarian. "Do you know who this is?"
He nodded, "The Jedi who saved us."
"Exactly. The clones have turned against the Jedi. She needs help. We need help. Can you get us out of here unnoticed."
He coughed and sputtered, looking back and forth between Hoppie and Kyra.
"Please, Captain. If you don't help, she's dead."
Ackbar nodded once and announced to those around him, "I need clothes, robes, shawls, anything to hide these two. They saved our lives. We owe them this much."
With barely a moment's hesitation, the surrounding group began bringing forward all manner of clothing items.
Hoppie took off Kyra's utility belt, and then removed her robe and tunic, leaving her in black skin tight under clothes. "I am so sorry about this." He put her belt back on, then put several layers of clothing on her, including a beanie cap. He then smeared dirt on her face so she looked like the rest of the slaves, human or otherwise, beaten down, dirty, and tired.
Hoppie looked up. "Her name is…uh…Alyx…Gavald. She's Meena Tills diplomatic aid, and was with you when you were taken."
"Got it."
"Thank you," Hoppie said, "I'll be back." He then knelt down next to Kyra. "I need your saber."
She nodded, almost imperceptibly. And he unclipped it from her belt that was underneath the maroon colored robes she had been given. He then took the clothes they had given him, nodded once, and ran back to the Western hangar entrance. He threw the clothes in the alcove, and then took off running again.
There has got to be a better way to do this.
He turned his comms back on, and heard the troopers raising hell, trying to get an update.
He ignited Kyra's saber and then scorched his armor and helmet with the blade, marking it in several places. Then he took a nearby sizeable rock, and smashed it against his helmet, his chest plate, and his thigh armor.
He located a dead trooper, stripped his armor off him, and laid him up against the wall. He placed Kyra's tunic and robe a few meters away. Not so close that they'd be mostly incinerated like the body would, but definitely seared and torn to pieces. He took out the thermal detonator and prepped it.
He yelled into his comlink, "Contact, just North of the of the hangar's Western entrance. Requesting backup."
His helmet comm roared with chatter again. Hoppie then hit the switch on the thermal detonator, the familiar beep reverberating throughout the cavern.
"Sorry, brother," he said, and tossed the spherical charge onto the soldier, and then darted a dozen meters away.
The small but powerful explosive device detonated with incredible noise, and the shockwave blasted through the rock hallway.
"Ow," Hoppie groaned as the shockwave hit him hard, and debris pelted him. He coughed and then tossed the lightsaber towards the wreckage. Seconds later clones were pulling him to a sitting position.
"Lt, status report," one clone said.
"I got her. She's been terminated."
The clone shifted, glanced toward the blast area. "Troopers, get me confirmation of death."
Two clones rushed forward into the still swirling dust. A few seconds later, one came back holding her lightsaber, and the other came back carrying her bloodied and burned robe and tunic.
Well, that couldn't have gone any better.
"Confirmed," one clone trooper said, and then handed the lightsaber to Hoppie.
"Good job, Sir. We'll call it in."
Hoppie nodded, and then slowly got to his feet. He cautiously extended his hand and took the saber.
"What about Kahl?" the clone sergeant asked.
"I don't know, but sounded like Sa'kard took him out. They were dueling near where the slaves were being held."
That should lead them in the wrong direction. You owe me one, Jedi.
"Roger that," the Sergeant said, "We'll continue hunting."
Hoppie nodded, "Good luck, Soldiers."
The troopers dispersed and jogged away. This would be the last time he'd look at them as brothers. This is where life changes, isn't it. He jogged back towards the alcove, and without hesitation, unceremoniously stripped off his armor. He put on the ragged clothes that the Calamarians generously gave him. He smeared dirt on his face, and put on a silly hat, with a curved bill.
If Kal Skirata saw him now, he'd gut me like a goober fish. Then he thought about it some more as he was moving toward the hangar. He's also the one that said, "We're all going to die sometime, so you might as well die pushing the odds for something that matters."
And that's exactly what I'm doing, Sarge.
He snuck into the hangar, and made his way back to the slaves, finding Kyra on her feet, but leaning against Captain Ackbar.
As he nodded to Ackbar, and took over supporting Kyra, he heard troops marching into the hangar. Hoppie couldn't help but stiffen and held Kyra a bit tighter. He was in the middle of well over a thousand individuals. There was no way they could single them out, particularly the way they were dressed now. He hunkered down, nonetheless.
He saw Ackbar wade through the massive throng of people and approach the troopers. Hoppie set Kyra on the ground, and then got as close as he dared to hear the conversation.
"I'm Captain Ackbar of the Mon Calamair Guard. I've adopted a leadership role among this group. And I speak for all of us when I say, Thank you," the Mon Calamari bowed low. "Is there anything I can assist with, or relay to rest of the group?"
The clone trooper nodded, then turned around and yelled to the platoon. "Diver, front and center."
A clone trotted from the rear, running straight to the lieutenant, as Hoppie caught a glimpse of his rank insignia. This Diver saluted and then finally noticed the Mon Calamarian standing in front of him. "Well, well, well," Diver said, mirth in his tone, "If it isn't the Warrior of Dac. You're a long way from home, Captain Ackbar. I was one of the SCUBA Troops during the battle of Mon Cala. I even helped you and King Lee-Char escape."
Ackbar bowed low, "I remember. An honor to see you again, Trooper."
Diver turned and gave a firm nod to the Lt, who then spoke to Ackbar. "Evolution is as follows, Captain. The gunships will enter this hangar four at a time, load forty persons on and then transport you to our cruiser. That cruiser will then take you home."
"That will take many trips, and you have bugs breathing down your necks. It's only a matter of time until they divert their forces here."
The Lieutenant nodded. "They already are. My soldiers are dug in, protecting this area. Which is why we need to get the boarding started, unless you have a better idea, Captain."
Ackbar nodded, and then gestured his leathery webbed hand to the large freighter ships. "The majority of us came in on those, the majority of us can get out on those. I believe all the Mon Calamarians, and those affiliated with us, can fly out on them."
"You think five hundred Mon Calas can fly out on those three freighters?"
Ackbar nodded, "They're modified, outfitted for transporting large numbers of prisoners. In fact I think five hundred of us can fly out on two, leaving you an extra ship for the other prisoners, decreasing your responsibility."
"You have pilots?"
Ackbar coughed, probably the Mon Calamari equivalent for a scoff. "Me, and my second in command."
The trooper's helmet moved up and down, assessing Ackbar, and then tilted to the side.
Ackbar spoke again. "I know you're busy, and that transporting refugees isn't high on your agenda. Let me help you carry out your mission. I'll handle it from here, Lieutenant."
The trooper waited a few seconds, "Your reputation proceeds you, Captain. Thank you. They're all yours."
Ackbar bowed deeply once more, as regally as Lee-Char himself, and began barking orders at the group. They all began moving, a third of them filing towards the three ships. Ackbar came right up to Hoppie, "Looks like luck is on your side. Come on, let's get you two on board."
"That was all skill, Captain. Thank you," Hoppie said as they walked back towards Kyra, and then helped her onto one of the large freighters. He tucked her into a far corner of the cargo hold to maintain her inconspicuousness in case troopers boarded. "Stay here, Okay," he said. She didn't respond. She merely laid there, still catatonic. Still sweating bullets, body way above normal temperature. Teeth still clenched, and face still crunched.
He scrounged up a few blankets, and a pillow in the meager crew quarters, and then brought them to Kyra, making her as comfortable as possible.
After ensuring she was safe and comfortable, he finally sat back against the bulkhead, head tilting back, landing hard against the bulkhead. He let out a long sigh.
"Something that matters," he whispered.
Aedan was no stranger to sneaking around. In fact, he was quite skilled at it. And no doubt the fact that no clones seemed to be moving around in his area of the base certainly helped out.
Clone troopers that were ordered to kill him. Him, Aedan Kahl, who not hours before they had called General.
He sneered. "How can this be?"
He calmed himself and focused on the task at hand. One step at a time.
Yes, he was good at sneaking, but not when he was this tired and banged up—he could not recall ever being this exhausted. He knew much of it had to do with the fact that his brothers in arms were trying to kill him, and had most likely successfully killed hundreds, if not thousands, of his fellow Jedi.
Nevertheless, he made his way through the dim corridors, away from that forsaken pile of ashes. Using the force to avoid clone trooper movements, he arrived outside the hangar undetected.
He peeked inside and saw the Gauntlet Fighter he had spotted as they flew into the hangar. Sa'kard's ship. Now it would be his.
He moved quickly and quietly among the hangar bays and their ships towards the Kom-rk fighter ship. On the other side of the hangar, he saw the gathered slaves, now freed, boarding the Zygerrian Ships. He could feel Kyra, knew she was among them, and that Hoppie was taking care of her. His heart ached to be with her, to help her himself, but he knew he had a mission. The force told him so. He had to get to the bottom of this. And he had to erase her from the archives.
"I love you, Kyra. I'll find you. Just stay alive, I will find you."
He climbed into the sleek fighter, had the ship prepped in minutes, and gunned it out of the hangar. Soon he was past the starship in atmo, with no chance of anyone intercepting him. Had they been in orbit, it would have been a different story, but I guess they weren't expecting to shoot Jedi in the back when the assault started, were they?
He set coordinates for Coruscant and entered hyperspace. Once vibrant white lines filled the viewport, he went into a Jedi trance, letting his body and mind heal. He wasn't out of danger yet. No, he was heading right for it.