The swirling azure and emerald hues of hyperspace fractured around Dooku's solar sailer as it lurched back into real space, the kaleidoscopic beauty replaced by a scene of chaotic violence that sent a jolt of shock through him. The Malevolence, its massive form a jagged silhouette against the backdrop of Dantooine's tranquil landscape, was locked in a fierce exchange of turbolaser fire with a Republic Venator-class Star Destroyer. The remnants of another Venator, its hull cleaved in two, a macabre display of mangled metal and flickering flames, drifted lifelessly nearby, a chilling testament to the Malevolence's destructive power. He had intended to rendezvous with General Grievous discreetly, to discuss strategies, to solidify the cyborg general's loyalty, and to ensure that the Malevolence wouldn't become a threat to Skywalker or Amidala. Now, it seemed, fate, or perhaps Sidious's machinations, had intervened, thrusting him into the heart of a battle he hadn't anticipated.
His solar sailer, a vessel of elegance and diplomacy, was ill-equipped for such a brutal exchange. He had to reach the Malevolence, to take command of the situation, to prevent any further… unforeseen complications. He pushed his small craft towards the Malevolence, weaving through the deadly ballet of turbolaser fire, his heart pounding in his chest, a frantic rhythm against the muted hum of the ship's engines. He activated his commlink, establishing a direct channel to General Grievous. The cyborg's raspy voice, a distorted echo of his ravaged lungs, crackled through the communicator, laced with a mix of frustration and a hint of panic."Master Dooku," Grievous croaked, "We have a small problem. It seems the Republic found the Malevolence unexpectedly."
"I see you didn't handle this fleet as easily as the others," Dooku responded, his voice a cool baritone that masked the urgency churning within him. The destruction of a single Venator was a significant loss for Palpatine, a victory for the Separatists, but the ongoing battle, the unexpected resistance, threatened to derail his carefully crafted plans. He couldn't afford any further delays, any unforeseen complications that might jeopardize his endgame."I need to get on board the Malevolence immediately," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument."The Solar Sailer isn't designed for combat."
"I'll open the shields for the main hangar so you can dock," Grievous croaked, his voice a distorted rasp. As Dooku approached the Malevolence, its massive form dwarfing his own sleek vessel, a swarm of Republic starfighters, their engines screaming, launched from the surviving Venator, a cloud of deadly insects buzzing towards him. A cold dread washed over him. Then, a presence in the Force, a familiar energy signature that made his heart clench, resonated within the swirling chaos. Anakin Skywalker. He was here, leading the Republic fighter squadron, a pawn in Sidious's game, unwittingly playing into Sidious's hands.
"Hold your fire on the Republic ship," Dooku commanded, his voice laced with a steely intensity that echoed the urgency of the situation. He couldn't afford to lose Skywalker, not now, not when he was so close to swaying the young Jedi to his cause.
"You want to let them escape?" Grievous questioned, his voice a distorted growl, his confusion evident. The cyborg's programming for ruthless efficiency and death, clashed with Dooku's unexpected directive.
"Anakin Skywalker is the commander of that squadron, and he must not die. Even if it costs us the Malevolence," Dooku emphasized, his tone brooking no argument. "Once I'm aboard, jump to hyperspace immediately. I repeat do not engage." He guided his solar sailer towards the Malevolence's main hangar, the massive doors groaning open, revealing the dimly lit interior, a welcome sanctuary from the swarm of fighters buzzing behind him.
"Cancel the ion cannon," Grievous croaked, relaying the order to a nearby battle droid. Dooku's solar sailer, its sleek form a blur of motion, darted into the hangar, the massive doors hissing shut behind him, sealing him within the Malevolence's metallic embrace. The Republic fighters, their attack thwarted by the swiftly closing shields, peeled away, their frustration echoing in the static crackle of their aborted attack.
He quickly exited his craft and made his way towards the bridge, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and a lingering apprehension. The battle outside raged on, the thunderous exchange of turbolaser fire a constant reminder of the precarious situation. He reached the bridge, its panoramic viewport revealing the ongoing battle, and found Grievous standing near the tactical display, his metallic form a chilling presence amidst the chaotic energy of the bridge crew. "Why are we not in hyperspace?" Dooku demanded, his voice laced with an impatience that mirrored his own anxieties. Every moment they lingered here, exposed to the Republic's relentless assault, increased the risk of Skywalker's or the Malevolence's demise, a loss Dooku couldn't afford.
"The hyperdrive is damaged, Master," Grievous responded, his voice a distorted rasp, a hint of frustration echoing Dooku's own. "It will require time before it's ready for a jump again."
"Then get it repaired, and increase power to the shields," Dooku commanded, his gaze fixed on the viewport, his mind racing, calculating the odds, formulating strategies, weaving a desperate plan to ensure their survival, to protect Skywalker, and to ultimately achieve his own objectives amidst the chaos that swirled around him.
The familiar azure streaks of hyperspace began to blur, the stars slowing to their usual pinpricks of light as Padmé's sleek Naboo star skiff decelerated, preparing to exit into real space near Dantooine. A thrill of anticipation, a nervous energy, thrummed within her. This mission, this meeting with representatives of the InterGalactic Banking Clan, held the potential to be a pivotal moment in the war, a chance to shift the balance of power, to bring the Republic closer to a negotiated peace, a peace that would bring Anakin home. She walked to the cockpit of her ship, her hand instinctively reaching for Anakin's japor snippet, its rough surface a comforting reminder of the love that fueled her, the hope that sustained her amidst the galaxy's turmoil. This was her chance, she thought, her gaze fixed on the swirling vortex of hyperspace, to prove that peace was not a weakness, but a strength, a testament to the Republic's resilience and its commitment to diplomacy. She would show the Senate, and the galaxy, that even amidst the chaos of war, dialogue was possible, that even the most entrenched adversaries could find common ground, that this flicker of hope could ignite a flame of peace.
The stars slowed to their normal pace as the skiff shuddered, fully exiting hyperspace. The serene beauty of Dantooine, its patchwork of fields and scattered settlements a welcome contrast to the sterile void of hyperspace, should have filled her vision. Instead, she was met with a scene of utter chaos, a maelstrom of turbolaser fire and explosions that sent a wave of shock and disbelief through her. A Republic Venator-class Star Destroyer, the symbol of the Republic's might, was now a ravaged hulk, its hull breached, engines sputtering, its once-proud form adrift next to the still functioning ships. A massive Separatist cruiser, its angular form bristling with weaponry, loomed over the scene like a predator, its enormous cannon, a menacing protuberance on its port side, pulsing with an ominous energy. What were the Separatists doing here? she thought, her mind reeling, her carefully crafted plans dissolving into a maelstrom of confusion and fear. Dantooine, a world of little strategic value, had seemed the perfect neutral ground for her clandestine meeting with the Banking Clan. Its very insignificance had been its draw, a haven from the prying eyes of both the Republic and the Separatists. Now, that sanctuary was gone, a terrifying testament to the unpredictable nature of war. There was nothing important at Dantooine, nothing that would warrant the presence of the Republic, let alone a Separatist ship. She felt a cold dread settle in her stomach, a chilling premonition that whispered of a trap. She reacted instantly, her fingers flying across the control panel, her mind racing, desperately seeking a way out of this unfolding nightmare. She had to contact the Republic, to alert them to her situation, to warn them of this unexpected Separatist presence. She slammed her hand down on the comm button, activating an open channel, her voice echoing with an urgency that belied her internal panic. "Republic cruiser! This is Senator Amidala! I need immediate assistance!" She desperately pulled her ship into a sharp turn, attempting to evade the Separatist cruiser's looming presence, its massive form filling the viewport, a terrifying reminder of the danger that closed in around her.
A voice with a crisp baritone that cut through the static crackle of the comm system, responded, laced with a mix of concern and a reassuring authority. "Senator Amidala, this is Admiral Yularen of the Resolute. We'll get our fighters to escort you out of there." The name sparked a flicker of recognition within Padmé, a vague memory of a conversation back on Coruscant. But now was not the time for reminiscing about Anakin. Survival and escape, those were her immediate priorities. "Be wary of that dreadnought, Senator," Yularen continued, his voice echoing with a grim urgency. "It possesses a dangerous superweapon."
Before Padmé could respond, a jarring jolt, a shudder that reverberated through the skiff's hull, threw her against her restraints. The stars outside the viewport blurred, the familiar constellations distorted into swirling streaks of light. "I've been caught in the enemy's tractor beam!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with a desperate frustration. She fought against the controls, desperately trying to break free from the invisible grip that pulled her relentlessly towards the Separatist cruiser, its massive form now filling the viewport, a metallic monstrosity that seemed to swallow the very stars.
"We'll hold fire on the dreadnought until you're safe, Senator," Yularen responded, his voice a steady counterpoint to her escalating panic. But Padmé knew, with a chilling certainty, that allowing the dreadnought to escape, to unleash its devastating superweapon upon unsuspecting Republic fleets, would be a catastrophic blunder, a sacrifice she couldn't allow.
"Absolutely not, Admiral," she retorted, her voice filled with a steely determination that belied the fear gripping her heart. "Do not let that ship escape because of me! You have authorization to destroy it. I will find a way to escape." The words, a defiant declaration of courage, echoed in the confines of the cockpit, a desperate gamble against impossible odds. She knew, deep down, that her chances of survival were slim, but she couldn't, wouldn't, allow the Republic to sacrifice its fleet for her. The only thing that filled her heart with true fear was knowing the sadness her family would have at her demise, especially Anakin. She secretly smiled as she realized that she had considered Anakin family.
"Understood, Senator," Yularen responded, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and a grim acceptance. The comm channel went silent, the static crackle a stark reminder of her new isolation.
Moments later, the skiff shuddered as it landed roughly in the dreadnought's cavernous hangar bay, the tractor beam releasing its grip. Padmé reacted instantly, her mind racing, her handmaiden training kicking in as she formulated a desperate plan. She unbuckled her restraints, running through her ships hallway, and diving into a small storage closet near the skiff's ramp, the stale air thick with the scent of oil and spare parts. She held her breath, listening as the clang of heavy footsteps echoed through the hangar bay, the metallic rhythm of approaching droids. She peeked through the narrow gap in the closet door, watching as a squad of battle droids marched past, their blasters held at the ready, their photoreceptors scanning the area, searching for her. Once they passed, she slipped out of the closet, her movements swift and silent, her heart pounding in her chest, a frantic drumbeat against the muted hum of the ship's engines. She sprinted towards the skiff's boarding ramp, hoping to retrieve her blaster and comlink. She knew her best chance of survival lay in finding an escape pod, a tiny vessel of hope amidst the vast, menacing confines of the Separatist dreadnought. She glanced around the hangar, its vast expanse eerily devoid of droids, and darted towards a nearby computer terminal, her fingers flying across the keypad, accessing the ship's internal network. She pulled up a schematic, her gaze scanning the complex layout, searching for the nearest escape pod bay. A wave of relief washed over her as she located it, a small cluster of pods nestled within a secluded section of the ship, surprisingly close to her current location.
But before she could memorize the route, the distinct metallic clang of approaching droids, echoing from the direction of her skiff, shattered the moment of hope. She ducked into a darkened corridor, pressing herself against the cold, metallic wall, her heart pounding in her chest. She peeked around the corner, watching as two battle droids emerged from her skiff's interior, their movements stiff and mechanical, their photoreceptors scanning the area, their voices a modulated monotone. One of the droids activated its commlink, its robotic voice echoing through the corridor. "We couldn't find the Senator on board."
Padmé cursed silently. They were searching for her, their relentless efficiency a chilling reminder of the danger she faced. She couldn't afford to waste any more time. She turned and sprinted down the corridor, her footsteps echoing against the metal floor, the schematic of the escape pod bay imprinted in her mind. The whir of an opening turbolift door, a sudden intrusion into the rhythmic clang of her footsteps, made her freeze, her heart leaping into her throat. She dove into a nearby storage room, its darkened interior a haven of shadows, and pressed herself against the far wall, holding her breath, listening as the turbolift doors hissed shut, the distant hum of the door fading into silence. She slowly, cautiously, drew her blaster, its cold, metallic weight a comforting presence in her trembling hand. She held it at the ready, her finger hovering over the trigger, her senses heightened, her gaze scanning the darkened room, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.
Tension crackled in the air of the Malevolence's bridge, a palpable energy that mirrored the turbolaser fire erupting outside. Count Dooku, his gaze fixed on the viewport, watched the unfolding battle with a grim satisfaction. The Republic Star Destroyer, the Resolute, though putting up a valiant fight, was no match for the Malevolence's superior firepower. He had just witnessed the ion cannon's devastating power; the Republic's newest Star Destroyer having been reduced to a lifeless husk in a matter of seconds, but he still had to make sure that Anakin survived. The cyborg general beside him, General Grievous, let out a raspy chuckle, his metallic lungs wheezing with a distorted amusement. "Another victory for the Separatists, Master Dooku," he croaked, his voice a grating counterpoint to the rhythmic hum of the ship's engines.
As Dooku was about to respond, a flicker of light, a distortion in the blackness of space, caught his attention. A new ship, its sleek silhouette familiar yet unexpected, materialized near the battlefield. He turned towards a nearby battle droid, its metallic form standing rigidly at attention. "Scan that ship," he commanded, his voice a cool baritone that masked the sudden surge of unease within him.
"It is a Naboo star skiff, Count. We are pulling it in with the tractor beam," the droid responded, its voice a modulated monotone.
Another droid, its photoreceptors blinking rapidly, added, "Analysis of the ship's manifest identifies the passenger as Senator Amidala. She is transmitting a distress signal to the Republic cruiser."
Dooku's blood ran cold. Amidala. Here? On Dantooine? It was an impossible coincidence, a twist of fate that threatened to unravel his carefully crafted plans. He knew he had to act swiftly, decisively, to prevent this unexpected development from spiraling into chaos. "Hold her in her ship," he commanded, his voice laced with an urgency that brooked no argument. "I will speak with her personally. And get the hyperdrive repaired! We must leave this system immediately!" He turned and strode purposefully out of the bridge, his mind racing, his heart pounding with a mix of frustration and a chilling premonition of danger. He had wanted to keep Senator Amidala safe, her presence on his ship a surprise from the force, but allowing her to roam freely, especially now, amidst the chaos of battle, was an unacceptable risk.
As he descended towards the hangar bay in the turbolift, his commlink buzzed again, the insistent tone a jarring intrusion into his racing thoughts. He activated the device, the droid's robotic voice echoing through the lift. "We couldn't find the Senator on board her vessel, Count."
A surge of anger, a cold fury, washed over Dooku. This was a disaster. Amidala, loose on his ship, was a liability, a volatile element in an already precarious situation. She could inadvertently sabotage the Malevolence, jeopardizing his plans for the war, or worse, she could be injured, killed even, a loss that would devastate Anakin Skywalker, the young Jedi he desperately needed to sway to his cause. Both scenarios presented him with the impossible choice between Anakin or the Malevolence, the Jedi he needed or the powerful ship that would help defeat Sidious, something he didn't want to happen again. "Find the Senator!" he roared into the commlink, his voice laced with a venomous intensity. "Bring her to me! Unharmed! That is an order!"
The turbolift doors hissed open, revealing a section of the seemingly endless corridors, the ship's metallic interior humming with a quiet efficiency. Dooku strode purposefully down the hallway towards the hangar bay, each step echoing against the metal floor. As he rounded a corner, a flicker of movement, a shadow darting into a nearby storage room, caught his attention. He slowed his pace, his hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber, his senses heightened, a hunter's instinct kicking in. He approached the storage room cautiously, his gaze fixed on the darkened doorway, his mind racing, anticipating the confrontation. He ignited his lightsaber, the crimson blade humming softly, its red glow illuminating the corridor with an eerie light, casting long, dancing shadows that stretched and distorted across the metallic walls. He stepped into the room, the air thick with the scent of dust and forgotten supplies, his gaze scanning the dimly lit interior, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of the intruder's presence. A sudden blaster shot, a sharp, piercing pew that echoed through the room, startled him. He reacted instantly, his body twisting, his lightsaber a blur of motion as he deflected the energy bolt, the deflected energy searing a smoking groove into a nearby crate. He turned towards the source of the shot, his gaze narrowing, his lightsaber humming a deadly symphony. Standing in the shadows, her blaster still smoking, her face pale but her eyes blazing with a defiant determination, was Senator Amidala.
Dooku deactivated his lightsaber, its crimson glow fading into nothingness, and used the force to disarm the Senator. "Senator," he said, his voice a cool baritone that masked the turmoil within him. "What a… unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe this… visit?" He could sense her fear, the frantic beating of her heart beneath her carefully composed exterior, but also a flicker of defiance that resonated with his own.
He watched as she gazed back at him with a mix of apprehension and a carefully controlled composure. "I could ask you the same question, Count," she responded, her voice steady, her Amidala mask firmly in place. "I didn't expect to find you on this ship. Especially with a superweapon pointed towards Republic ships after your peace attempts."
"Do not worry, Senator," he reassured her, his voice softening slightly, a hint of sincerity creeping into his tone. "You, and General Skywalker, are safe. I had no intention of continuing or starting this battle." He could sense her confusion, the questions swirling behind her carefully composed facade, and he decided to offer an explanation, a carefully crafted truth designed to allay her fears, to nudge her closer to his own perspective.
Surprise flickered in Padmé's eyes, her gaze sharpening, a sudden realization dawning on her. "Yularen," she murmured, her voice barely audible above the hum of the ship's engines. "That's Skywalker's Admiral?" She remembered now where she heard about him from. Anakin had told her.
"Precisely, Senator," Dooku confirmed, a subtle smile touching his lips. "I wasn't here to engage Skywalker. I came to meet with General Grievous, to discuss… strategies." He chose to omit the true nature of his plans, the delicate machinations designed to dismantle both the Republic and Sidious's insidious grip on the galaxy.
"Then why aren't you leaving and why is there a destroyed Republic vessel?" Padmé pressed, her voice regaining its Amidala composure, her gaze meeting his with a mix of suspicion and a cautious curiosity.
"Our hyperdrive is damaged," Dooku explained, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "That, Senator, is why I hope for your presence on board this ship. It will encourage the Republic to cease their attack, allowing us time to make repairs. I assure you, once we are safely out of this system, you are welcome to depart."
"And what are you planning to do with me in the meantime?" Padmé inquired, skepticism lacing her tone. She knew, with a chilling certainty, that once Skywalker learned of her presence aboard the Malevolence, he would stop at nothing to rescue her, regardless of the risks, regardless of the consequences.
"I will have you escorted to a private chamber, Senator," Dooku responded, his voice regaining its cool composure. "A place where you can wait in… comfort until this… unpleasantness is resolved." He extended his hand towards her, a gesture of courtesy that masked the subtle command in his eyes. She hesitated for a moment, her gaze searching his, a silent assessment of his sincerity, before placing her hand in his. He led her out of the storage room, his grip firm but gentle, his presence a reassuring counterpoint to the fear that still lingered in her eyes. He had to play this carefully, he knew, to maintain her trust, to use her presence to his advantage. She was a valuable pawn in his grand game, a key to unlocking Skywalker's loyalty, and a potential ally in his quest to dismantle the corrupt institutions that held the galaxy captive.
Anakin Skywalker, his starfighter a blur of yellow against the deep black backdrop of space, led the squadron of clone pilots in a daring attack run towards the Separatist dreadnought, the Malevolence. Its massive form, a jagged silhouette against the backdrop of Dantooine, loomed over the battlefield, a menacing testament to Separatist ingenuity and a symbol of the escalating war. As they closed in, preparing to engage the dreadnought's formidable defenses, a flicker of light, a distortion in the fabric of space, drew Anakin's attention. A Separatist transport, its angular form sleek and menacing, materialized near the dreadnought, having just exited hyperspace. Anakin's instincts, honed by years of Jedi training and countless battles, screamed important. This new arrival, he knew, was more than just a simple transport; it contained someone of great importance for the Separatists.
"Follow me!" he commanded, his voice echoing through the comm system, laced with an urgency that brooked no argument. "Take down that Separatist transport! It might be bringing in reinforcements." He pulled his starfighter into a sharp turn, diverting his squadron's attack away from the dreadnought, their ARC-170s, a formidable force, peeling away in synchronized formation, their engines screaming as they pursued the Separatist vessel.
"Understood, General," a clone pilot responded, his voice a steady counterpoint to the escalating tension.
Anakin, his starfighter a blur of yellow, pursued the Separatist transport, its engines straining as it attempted to evade his relentless pursuit. He unleashed a barrage of laser fire, his shots streaking across the void, a deadly dance of light and destruction, his pursuit leading them closer and closer to the massive form of the Malevolence. To his frustration, the transport managed to slip into the dreadnought's hangar bay, the massive doors hissing shut behind it, sealing it within the warship's metallic embrace. He cursed silently, his frustration mounting. He had to make sure the Separatists couldn't escape. He pulled his starfighter into another sharp turn, redirecting his squadron's attack towards the Malevolence's massive ion cannon, the weapon that had decimated the Vanguard.
"Focus your fire on the cannon!" he commanded, his voice ringing with a newfound determination. "We have to disable it before it can fire again!" He unleashed another volley of laser fire, his shots impacting against the cannon's shimmering energy shield, a protective barrier that absorbed the energy, deflecting it harmlessly into the void. "Admiral Yularen," he said, his voice echoing with a desperate urgency, "we need to take down that shield! Our weapons are having no effect!" He watched as the Resolute, its massive form a beacon of hope amidst the chaos, closed in on the Malevolence, unleashing a barrage of turbolaser fire that hammered against the dreadnought's defenses. To his relief, the Malevolence did not return fire. The ion cannon, he realized, must have drained a substantial amount of the ship's power, leaving its other turbolasers temporarily disabled. It was a window of opportunity, a chance to press their attack, to cripple the dreadnought before it could unleash its devastating weapon again.
Suddenly, another ship, its sleek silver hull reflecting the distant light of Dantooine's suns, materialized near the Malevolence, its trajectory leading it straight towards the dreadnought's hangar bay. A cold dread, a chilling premonition of disaster, washed over Anakin as he recognized the ship: a Naboo star skiff. A ship identical to Padmé's. He activated his commlink, his voice laced with a desperate urgency. "Admiral, who's in that ship?"
"Senator Amidala," Yularen responded, his voice a steady counterpoint to Anakin's escalating panic.
"You let the Senator enter a ship with a super weapon and didn't even bother to tell me or hold fire?!" Anakin roared, his voice cracking with a mix of fear and indignation. If it weren't for the need to maintain secrecy, to conceal their marriage from the ever-watchful eyes of the Jedi Order, he would have unleashed a torrent of fury upon Yularen. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the controls of his starfighter, his body trembling with barely suppressed rage.
"Senator Amidala instructed me to continue the attack, General," Yularen explained, his voice laced with a mix of regret and a hint of defensiveness. "She said she would find a way to escape herself."
"Cancel that order, Admiral!" Anakin commanded, his voice echoing with a steely resolve. "We are not destroying that ship while she's still on board! I'm going in after her. Once she is safe, we can resume the attack."
"Understood, General," Yularen responded, his voice laced with a mix of relief and a newfound respect for Anakin's unwavering determination.
Anakin, ignoring the ongoing battle, pulled his starfighter into a sharp dive, hurtling towards the Malevolence's hangar bay. He landed his starfighter in the cavernous hangar, its engines sighing to a halt. He jumped out of the cockpit, his lightsaber igniting in a flash of blue energy, illuminating the dimly lit space. Droids, alerted to his presence, converged on his position, their blasters spitting a hail of laser fire. Anakin, a whirlwind of motion, deflected the incoming fire, his lightsaber a blur of blue energy as he cut through the droid ranks, scattering smoking wreckage across the hangar floor. With the immediate threat neutralized, he reached out with the Force, seeking Padmé's presence amidst the cold, metallic confines of the dreadnought. He could feel her, a faint tremor of fear and determination amidst the swirling chaos of the Force, a beacon that guided his steps. He turned towards Artoo, his loyal astromech droid, who had already plugged himself into a nearby computer terminal. "Artoo, can you locate Padmé in the ship's prisoner logs?" he asked, his voice laced with a desperate urgency.
Artoo beeped and whistled in response, his small form buzzing with activity as he accessed the ship's internal network. Then, a series of frantic beeps and a mournful whistle echoed through the hangar, a negative response that made Anakin's heart clench.
"You can't find her?" Anakin confirmed, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and a growing sense of dread. "I know she's still on this ship. I can feel her." He couldn't rely on technology, not when Padmé's life hung in the balance. He would have to trust his instincts, his connection to the Force, to guide him through the labyrinthine corridors of the dreadnought, to find her, to protect her, to bring her home safe. To be able to kiss her again. He glanced towards the hangar entrance, his gaze hardening, his resolve unwavering. He would find her, he vowed silently, no matter the cost.