Chapter 5

Coruscant – Federal District

Bultar Swan watched the two pilot's, Fera and Coral, at the controls of the Consular-class corvette Mishian. The two women had a natural gift for piloting, much like her former Master, Plo Koon, and easily manoeuvred the craft between Coruscant's skyscrapers as they climbed. Bultar herself was a proficient pilot, but had never felt the drive for flying her starfighter nearly as much as Master Plo had wanted. Behind her, Altinrose stirred. The massive, dark-furred Wookiee had been recovering from his injuries in the Coruscant Royal Medical Wards in the Queen Hana Medical Centre. The Centre had been a gift to the Republic from a monarch who understood little of the Coruscanti culture and basically wanted her name on a building, yet it's facilities were state of the art.

"Are you feeling alright", he growled out, sitting up and rubbing at the bandages around him right arm.

"I'm fine, thank you.", Bultar replied stiffly. Truthfully, she wasn't. As Master Koon, and eventually also Master Ma'kavi's padawan, she had gotten used to people just dropping whatever they were doing to obey a Jedi. In the most difficult of situations, she might be required to ignite her lightsaber, which usually demoralised an opponent into surrendering. But Pantora had been different. There, she had been beaten and humiliated by a Kaleesh warlord who hadn't even broken a sweat. She had been outmanoeuvred. Her braid had been cut. Her body had been broken. And her friend, Altinrose, had been captured and experimented on. She was yet to forgive herself for that, despite the Wookiee's insistence that she do so.

"Are you concerned about an attack, or perhaps…"

"I said I'm fine.", Bultar snapped, but she immediately regretted it. The Wookiee's fur went flat. She turned and sat on the bench beside him, placing her hand over his far larger one. "I'm sorry, my friend. I didn't mean to yell. I guess that I'm a little anxious. Master Allie was apprentice to the great Keltr Tress. I grew up idolising the man. But he chose Stass instead of me for an apprentice. I guess a part of me was hoping that she might prove to be the lesser Jedi."

"Is this jealousy?", Altinroase chuckled quietly. "I thought Jedi were above such things."

"We are still sentients, my friend.", Bultar smiled wryly, "We still feel emotion."

The corvette suddenly and dramatically slowed, which was only noticeable by the rumble beneath the deck plates. A muffled conversation from the cockpit came through the hatch. The warrior and the Jedi exchanged a glance, then Bultar stood up and went to the hatch.

Before she could even ask, Fera had turned, expecting her arrival. "We are being given a path through this chaos and up to the Scythe. Apparently, the Governor-Admiral doesn't want to stop any of the incoming traffic. We need to use the local lanes to reach the blockade."

Bultar rolled her eyes. It was just like politics to get in the way of normal life. She glanced out the transparisteel. For a second, she could have sworn she spotted the flash of military starfighters gliding between the heavy frigates. But then she shook her head. If they wouldn't let a diplomatic shuttle close, they wouldn't dare let their pilots joyride around.

Mark watched the medics carry the barely lucid Caloc towards the same door they had carried Luuna through, escorted by two overly cautious, black-uniformed guards and a white-clad medic. He felt pulled to follow them and ensure that the padawan was taken care of. But Stass and the ship's commodore were already escorting the boy. He could try to follow Telle to the bridge to get a read on the retrieval operation, but the Second Fleet's officers wouldn't appreciate a starfighter pilot and intelligence officer stepping in on their home turf. They had all trained in the Republic's academies. Many of them would look down on a self-taught space-jockey who had joined on a whim. But what was he supposed to do? Just sit in the now empty hanger while he waited for the shuttle's wreckage to be retrieved? Hang out with two astromech droids who were fixing Ceefour's burnt brain?

"So, I take it that you are probably responsible for the huge shuttle floating in space with the ramp down?"

The voice slapped him out of his confused daze. Not because of what it said, but because it was familiar. Unexpectedly familiar. It should not have been on this ship. The last he had heard this voice had been above Pantora, over a comm signal. Turning, he found himself looking at three faces that did not belong on the Scythe. Three faces that were all standing before him with stupidly large smiles on their faces.

Nelion Dare, the gunner for his Gladbron-97, spoke first. "I was beginning to think that you weren't going to make it, boss. We were trying to figure out who was going to take over the squadron. Most people thought it would be Pilios, but I personally think that Matron would be better."

The bulky, blue-skinned Twi'lek shook his head thick lekku shaking over his shoulders. "I would be honoured, Nelion. But that point now seems moot."

Mark found his voice, spluttering slightly as he babbled to ask, "What the… How are you guys here?"

Matron Trass smiled warmly at him, stepping forward. The bulky Twi'lek wrapped his huge arms around the Green Squadron's wing commander in a bone crushing hug and lifting him several centimetres off the ground, before letting him down again. "We came in with the Jedi. Flew escort for them back from Coruscant."

"The Jedi are back on Coruscant?", Mark asked, his head spinning again. Did that mean… "Is the Pantoran threat over?"

Honey Grassi, Green 5, stepped forward now. The Togruta gave him one of her dazzling smiles, which lit up her grey and white skin. Her montrals vibrated, quivering against the blue and maroon flightsuit, as she said, "It is for Green Squadron. We came back to help search for you guys. Should probably head back to Pantora now, report your good fortune to Yularen and the rest of the Fifth Fleet, but I think a communique would work better."

Mark nodded. "So what exactly happened that allowed Yularen to send you back?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it, boss.", Nelion's expression softened instantly, and for a second, she seemed to wilt, "I don't even believe it. But it really happened. Just listen to this. It all started when the Jedi Swan and Captain Altinrose returned from the Harshplains…"

Honey watched Mark's face as he listened to Nelion's tale. She told it perfectly, adding the voices of other pilots and the sounds of explosions. The girl was a natural mimic, she realised. Maybe later she could ask Dare to try and mimic her voice, or one of the other pilots. It would be a great distraction while they sat between missions.

Matron would speak up every now and then, adding embellishments where he could to make his personal contributions sound like they mattered more. Throughout the tale, Mark's face went from concern, to worry, to being so tight with restrained emotion that a vein in his head was trying to pop out from the skin. Finally, as Nelion finished her tale, his face returned to one of professional concern.

"Did the entire squad make it?", he asked. As always, she thought, his first thought was of his own people. No amount of time with the Military would beat that instinct out of him.

Matron answered this one, his voice sombre and his lekku drooping. "No, sir. We lost both Fellu and Mistral. Their ship's were the first to engage with the light destroyer."

"Pilios is carrying that personally.", Honey added. "She feels that it was her duty to be first. However, we picked up two new recruits from the decimated ranks of Jade Squadron. They were beaten over Adrisal three weeks ago and have been recovering, but they should do well."

Mark straightened and looked around the hanger. "And where is Pilios?"

"On board the Nightingale, sir.", Nelion answered, pointing out the hanger's shield at one of the other Dixin's. "She and the rest of the crew were assigned there during this chaos. We came across when we saw the explosion in the hanger. Figured the Commodore had to be back if that was happening."

When she said the word 'chaos', she gestured around at the hundreds of ships being directed through the Coruscant orbit. Mark glanced over to see the final glimpse of the ruined shuttle before it disappeared into the Scythe's primary hanger.

"Where is the boy?", Honey asked, looking around. No one else had come into the hanger since they had arrived. It was a little disconcerting. Had Mark been the only survivor? "Where did you guys end up?"

"I'll tell you when we make it to the surface.", Mark replied, "In the meantime, I need to get to the Nightingale and check on the rest of you guys. Do you have a ship I can use?"

"I brought your starfighter.", Nelion replied, "We can travel across like old times. I am sick of flying the clunky rig alone."

Mark nodded, grabbing his commlink from his belt, "Hey, Captain Lawell? I will be stepping out for a moment. Got some friends I need to check on."

"The simple fact is that the Republic is in chaos.", Anglis told Stass, pouring two cups of richly flavoured tea. "Since you left Pantora, not only was the moon attacked, but so were three other systems in the Outer and Mid Rims. Add that to what was already happening and..."

She trailed off. Stass stared at the unmoving hologram of Pantora before her. What had started as a complex terrorist attack was suddenly becoming far clearer. It reminded her of the game Norvak Chides. In the game, players used their pieces to try and coral their opponent. They moved their pieces across the board, claiming squares for their side and corralling the enemy their own area. Once they had the advantage of squares, they would then pick off their opponent, claiming the territory. Once they removed the monarch game piece, they won.

In the same way, the bombs had been used to coral the Pantoran into bringing in martial law. Once the prisons were overcrowded, a purposeful riot would cover the tracks of any incursion. And as added bonus, the riot would also keep the prison records from being thoroughly examined, and the escapees identified. It was a more devious plot than she had ever imagined the terrorists could engineer.

But it was far from a clear picture. If she was reading the situation right, then this puzzle somehow included both illegal mining, unethical cybernetic research and even potential political espionage. And that was just on one moon. To think that it might be happening on multiple worlds?

"Which other worlds?", she asked, albeit reluctantly.

"So far, Tetulmore, Restufuge and Assk have all been attacked.", Anglis replied, "Small attacks, for certain. Simple hit and runs against specific Republic Outreach centres. There wasn't as much damage as on Pantora, but they managed to destroy fields and military defence shields. A supply convoy was hit and their escort was almost decimated. Only two of the bombers made it out. Jade Squadron.

"Which I'm willing to bet has only heightened the need for a permanent Grand Army of the Republic.", Stass shook her head. "I remember the Council's concern about that."

She slumped back in the chair, and watched as the hologram of Pantora continued to spin. This puzzle was more complex than most. Primarily an investigator, Stass had gotten used to seeing the bigger picture from a series of clues. But in this case, it looked more like a three-dimensional game, or maybe a four-dimensional. Someone was trying to gather resources. Resources that still included whatever they needed on Pantora.

She would need to get to the Jedi Temple as soon as possible and try to piece things together. Then she and Caloc could go and find whatever it was she knew was missing from the picture. Whatever it was, they needed to stick together and protect each other, because their trouble wasn't over. Pantora had just been the beginning.

Which meant that Riyo Chuchi was still in danger.