The Gray and the Unchained: The Cost of Freedom

[TheDutchman]

Wow Karm...

Just...WOW!  That was a FANTASTIC chapter!  I LOVE the interaction between Jorya and Ken (and Ry  ).  NOW we're seeing disparate POVs that are NOT entirely based upon feelings (although there are PLENTY of those to go around; WONDERFULLY handled my friend!).  This chapter was so awesome I had to reread it again; the attention to detail in INCREDIBLE!  I'm really loving the characters that populate this part of the galaxy; they're so rich and memorable.  

The setting is just perfect!  I have to say that this was one of my favorite installments!  This is going to be a VERY tough chapter to follow upon!  Seriously raising the bar Karm!  Again: OUTSTANDING job!

_{*grabs the baton*} Let's see if I can keep up with Karm's pacing  

And thank you Dutchman for the AWESOME interlude!  It plays with this chapter perfectly!  Looking forward to the next chapter!  :-)

Thanks Karm!  Could NOT have done this without you and LSG 

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 6: Finagle's Law, Part I

“Get over there you scum!”  Her hands bound behind her, Jorya was thrown forcefully into the detention cell, joining what remained of Besh Team.  Normally, she would have agilely landed on her feet but she was still dazed; instead she crashed onto the deck, dislocating her shoulder in the process.  Her montrals still ringing, she had a difficult time orienting herself and that was even before she considered how much pain she was in…

Closing her eyes hoping to clear her head, she went through the meditative Force technique that Mother had taught her years ago.  Or rather, she tried; as soon as she attempted to do so, nausea worse than any other than she’d experienced hit her like a physical blow.  Unceremoniously, she noisily vomited beside her before she involuntarily laid her head to rest on the floor, trying desperately to find a comfortable position on her side.

After what seemed like an eternity—in reality, only a few minutes—she opened her eyes slowly, carefully looking around the cell.  It was rather large, bare, and devoid of any furniture with the exception of a simple bunk running the perimeter of the room.  In other words: like every other Imperial Detention cell.

Again, deliberately she continued to scan the room.  Her eyes rested upon the bodies of her friends and compatriots heaped upon the floor.  Many were bleeding freely from numerous lacerations and contusions and at least half were still unconscious.  “…Krel’lth? Darmkho?  Sahveni?”  Even now she couldn’t be certain that she’d been heard if the ringing in her montrals was any indication.

Slowly, the Aqualish stirred, his huge eyes looking at her…or at least she thought that they were.  “Krel?  Are you OK?”  Even speaking that much made her feel sick again, the room spinning as the last word left her mouth.

The Aqualish slowly nodded, the deliberate movements of his head indicative of his own vertigo.  “Bagowdha norl fuba, Jorya…?”  He rested his head back upon the deck, a rasping breath escaping as he attempted to lay down despite the binders around his own wrists.

Jorya closed her eyes, tears flowing now.  “…No Krel.  They’re dead.  Executed.”  As she spoke the words, the terrible memory that she’d witnessed played in her head…

Each member of Besh Team—those that weren’t already dead—were on their knees in a line against the gray bulkhead.  Leveling their blasters, the stormtroopers waited upon the junior officer, a sneering rat-faced man with pockmarked cheeks.  “Fire.”  His voice lazily intoned as if he were ordering breakfast.  Jorya lay prostrate on the deck, crying out for her friends as her arms were cruelly twisted behind her, a pair of binders affixed to her wrists.  “Take…that to the brig; she can join her friends.”  Again, the same bored tone…

Jorya’s anger started to arise which only worsened her nausea.  Curling into a fetal position on her side, her body convulsed repeatedly as she retched.  Finally, she slumped upon the floor, uncaring of her dislocated shoulder or the fact that her cheek lay in the widening pool of her own vomit, Krel’s bleating voice drown out to background noise.

In agony, dizzy, angry, and crying it was all Jorya could do to remain cognizant.  As she replayed the series of events leading to her current situation, she thought, …How in the hell did this happen…?!

            <<<<< >>>>>

Nar Shaddaa.

As the terminator slowly creeped towards Ken’s orbital path, he could see the countless lights of the night side of the moon.  An ecumenopolis, the entire moon was urbanized.  It was no wonder that it was a haven to countless smugglers, criminals, and bounty hunters.

In other words, a wretched hive of scum and villainy.

And, Ken hoped, the one person that he thought could give him the help that he so desperately needed.

Finding a half-way reputable docking berth, Ken paid an outrageous “landing” fee, then a separate “loitering” fee, and an “independent refueling” fee (even though he didn’t need to refuel).  As Ken was about to walk away, the red Nikto attendant suddenly stopped him, his scaled hand thumping Ken’s chest.  “‘Scuse me, son.  Wherya’ b’ goin’?”  He deliberately held out his other clawed hand, palm up.

Ken’s face was smooth, his confusion not showing.  “I paid all relevant tolls.  I’m about business.”  He tried to push down the anger that seemed to be a constant part of him since he and Jorya had developed a…schism between them.

The red Nikto smiled or at least Ken thought that it was a smile; he couldn’t be certain.  “Yar.  All b’t ‘un: my ‘watch fee.’”  Dark eyes stared into Ken’s light hazel.  For his part, Ken didn’t so much as blink.  Then, slowly he produced a chit that he then held out for the red Nikto.  Grabbing it, the Nikto went to pocket it but instead was held firm by Ken’s grip.

“I expect my ship to be cleaner than a Senator’s table.”  Ken’s eyes turned hard, his face adopting a dangerous set.  “Unadulterated.  And untouched.”  When he released the chit, the red Nikto finally blinked, bobbing his head and making consolatory sounds.  But Ken smiled, at least to himself.  The Song around the red Nikto was subito mosso.  Ken was certain that no one would so much as look at his ship while in port.

Indomitably, Ken walked through Red Lamp District following the directions that he’d memorized.  He was thankful that he had; one street looked much the same as any alley and one alley reminded him of every avenue.  And to dissuade all “honest thieves,” Ken sub-vocalized a Threat motif blanketing the area around him.  Everyone affected could sense feelings of dread and of agitation, if undefined and unfocused.  

It worked.

Finally, he came to a nondescript door down a particularly uninviting alley, a vagrant slumped over in front of the door.  It would have seemed as odd as the vagrant’s neatly trimmed beard and clean face…if he hadn’t already been forewarned.  And there was his Song.  Around the entire building disparate threads flowed together in a false fugue as none of the separate threads joined any of the others.  Still, there was a kind of harmony surrounding the place.

“I’m here to see Nadia and Anton.”  Ken’s voice was loud even to his own ears, echoing through the alley in a most unusual fashion.  However, it seemed to have the desired effect.  Without comment the vagrant moved, opening the door and stepping aside to allow Ken entry.  As he walked past, Ken saw the discerning look in the vagrant’s eyes again thinking that very little was as it seemed.  Ken almost laughed; that seemed to be foremost on his mind as of late…

Allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the interior, Ken saw that he had entered a rather inviting cantina home to several patrons in various states of drink.  Over by the bar there was a diminutive pair of twins, brother and sister, who were quietly talking to another group including one man that was easily as tall as his father.  The gentle lighting was low and comfortable as was the ambiance.

And, at least to Ken, the Song was…maestoso, adagio to be sure but…majestic.  The Force—the Song—was a constant, as indelibly imprinted upon the building as his mother’s green eyes were a part of her.  ...Remarkable… Ken thought.

It was.  “Nadia and Anton’s” was a refuge for all Force users, regardless of pedigree.  And while it operated in secret, there had still been…rumors.  And always associated with it, a name: “Jedi Templars.”  Still, if Ralen had not told Ken he would never have guessed its location.  And from what Ken had briefly experienced the rumors weren’t near as extraordinary as the truth.  But even as he contemplated that he heard a quiet, strong voice behind him.

“Kenneniah?”  Ken turned to see a lithe yet muscular man with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes, as tall as himself.  When he spoke, Ken noticed a small scar on the left side of his jaw.  “Kenneniah Mack?”  Again his voice was soft; not weak but as if he were unused to speaking.  When Ken nodded, the man gestured towards one of the tables in the corner.  Taking his seat, the man had his back to the wall where he could see the entirety of the room just by moving his eyes. ...Cautious fellow… Ken thought, nevertheless mimicking him while sitting opposite him against the perpendicular wall.

“Thank you Ralen for seeing me.  I know that this must be…peculiar.”  Ralen did not so much as blink, his face emotionless and his body tense, ready like a coiled spring. …Damn, I forgot… Ken castigated himself.  His anger must be distracting him.  He took a breath, starting over.  “Zearic sends his regards.  He’s had his ‘left eye’ on his ‘winter home’ since before the ‘Rebels flew away in the forest.’”  Just what that all meant Ken had no idea whatsoever.  But clearly Ralen did.

Visibly relaxing, the tanned man put his right hand on the table, his left moving subtly to his leg…where he holstered a low-slung blaster.  …Wha…I didn’t even see him draw a weapon… Ken’s respect for this man grew exponentially…as did his disquiet.  “As I was saying, thank y—”

Ralen cut him off, a simple yet quick hand held palm up, fingers knuckled.  …Alderaanian gesture… Ken immediately recognized; some of the Mak’Tor Men-At-Arms would often use it.  From what he’d been told it meant something akin to “I don’t have time for this” or “Enough kriffing talking.”

“Kenneniah, I have collected all pertinent information you’ll need.”  He slid a datapad across the table to Ken.  “Included are some of the backdoor exploits that I was able to slice into Imperial Central.  And unless the Imperials have a better slicer than me, they’ll still be operational.”  He went quiet, his blue eyes staring at Ken.  …Well if I expect more I guess I’ll have to ask…

“Ralen…I wanted to ask if…if you have ever come across a group called…the Sons of Kessel?”  As Ken was staring at Ralen he immediately noticed the changes in the man.  Oh, they were subtle; Ralen was very good at keeping his composure.  But they were there.  

After a moment, Ralen’s normal breathing resumed, the tightness in his eyes relaxing.  “…Yes.”  He ran a hand through his black hair.  “…And I’ve my reasons for not associating with them now…”

            <<<<< >>>>>


As soon as he docked within Eurydicen Hanger “Rook” Ken took the shortest path back to his quarters.  One of the perks of being promoted to Flight Leader was that he was roomed in a larger apartment with its own amenities: a cramped, pipelined kitchenette, extra space in his bunk, and even a receiving room.  He loved it even if it was only three paces across.  He’d been pacing often of late, taking advantage of that fact.  But moreover, it allowed him to stretch out on the lone furniture in the space: an incredibly comfortable couch.  Best of all: the room was his and his alone.  After his meeting with Ralen, he was looking forward to lying down on that couch.

Imagine his surprise when he found someone waiting for him on said couch.  “Ah, probie.”  R’lyak said with mock seriousness.  “And just where have you been?”  The Chiss female had made herself at home: instead of the business-like bun Ry normally wore, her long dark hair cascaded down her back and she had her bare feet tucked underneath her as she lounged on the…his couch, her boots kicked haphazardly on the floor.

Ken smiled, genuinely happy to see her.  Not wanting to lie, he told her a half-truth.  “I went to see Jorya’s uncle and ask some advice about ships.”  Ken plopped down on the couch next to Ry, his long legs stretched out in front of him.  She leaned towards him, her strong fingers rubbing his shoulders, expertly targeting the knots in his muscles.  “…By the Maker, that feels good Ry…”  She smiled at the compliment, working the muscles.

“Well, probie, I wouldn’t have pegged you for the religious-type.  Ah, there.”  To punctuate her words, her fingers dug into a particularly obstinate knot, pain immediate and not altogether unpleasant radiating from the area her left hand was kneading.

Relaxing from the release, Ken melted against the Chiss, his back leaning heavily on her knees and chest.  “…Ry…you’re the best.  That feels fantastic.  I can’t tell you how much I lo—”  Realizing what he was about to say Ken’s eyes snapped open, his body sitting upright and rigid.  “…I, er…that is…”  Ken’s face burned from the blood rushing into it, only partly from embarrassment.  Thinking his face must be as red as Ry’s was blue he couldn’t help but bark a laugh.  “…I was thinking how…what a picture we would make…our faces being the…that is, what…”  He recognized that he was babbling but couldn’t help himself.  Thankfully, Ry could and did.

Quickly pressing herself up to Ken she deeply kissed him, passionately grabbing his neck and the back of his head, her dark fingers splayed in his light brown hair gently caressing him.  For his part Ken had gotten better, much better, his own strong arms grasping her back pulling her to himself.  After a long time they parted both breathless, smiling.

The Chiss spoke first, gently and softly, saying Ken’s name as if caressing something precious.  “Kenneniah… I…know how you feel.  You don’t have to be afraid.”  Her red eyes glowed, intent and clear.  “Yar'lyakomm'tla.”  The staccato enunciation caught Ken off-guard.

“…Wha…sorry, Ry?”  His eyes never left hers, his hands gently but intensely stroking the skin of her face, arms, and neck.  Meanwhile, Ry’s gaze never wavered.

“Yar'lyakomm'tla.  My name; my real name, I mean.”  Suddenly, she bowed her head coyly.  “In my cultu…for my people, it is a sign of…intimacy…to give one’s fullname to an ali…an outsider.”  Ken caught the correction: …she was going to say “alien”… Not that he cared one way or another.  Gently cupping her blue chin with his hand he raised her head so that her eyes were staring directly into his.

“Yar'lyakomm'tla.  I.  Love.  You.”  The smile that changed Ry’s face only made her look more beautiful.  Again she leaned in kissing Ken even more deeply than last time.  Sometime later they settled on his couch, both content to be with one another and to share their privacy together.

But it was altogether too brief. 

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 6: Finagle's Law, Part II

The door chimed followed by a knock.  Sighing heavily Ken answered, surprised to see Jorya standing there.  “Ken, look I know that we’ve—” she abruptly stopped talking, seeing that Ken was not alone.  Jorya’s lips quivered into a smile but then sobered.  “Hi Ry.  I didn’t realize that Ken had company.  I’ll leave you tw—”  She turned to go when the Chiss quickly stood.

“No, no Jorya.  Actually, I’ve got to be going.  I need to run flight simulations with Sledge Flight.”  She grabbed her boots not even bothering to pull them on before walking from the room.  Before she left she turned to Ken and gave him a brief kiss.  “I’ll see you at the CPT*, probie.”  She nodded to the Togruta grinning.  “Bye, Jorya.”

Shaking his head, Ken couldn’t help the enormous grin on his face…not that he wanted to.  Looking up and seeing—to his surprise—Jorya also smiling, he relaxed a little.  “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you and Ry.” Jorya said, meaning it.  She had adopted a casual pose, crossing her legs while leaning against the bulkhead.  “Can I come in?”

Ken nodded, offering for her to sit on the couch.  Rounding the other side he sat down, sinking into the soft cushion.  He was about to speak when Jorya cut him off.

“Ken, look…I know that we haven’t been seeing…eye-to-eye lately but I thought we could…start anew, you know?  I think we’ve been working really hard, both of us.”  She put one hand to her head.  “My montrals ache just thinking about it…”

Smiling Ken put a hand to her shoulder.  “Of course, Jorya.  And I feel you!  I’ve had my hands full with everything from the new Flight that I’m responsible for to helping Ziac’ch retrofit some of the TIEs for Wookie pilots to having to talk to Ralen…”  Ken shook his head, laughing a bit.  “It’s just…too much.”

“I heard about that!  Congratulations Ken, I’m really…proud…” Jorya’s voice trailed off, her blue eyes suddenly very intense as her entire face changed.  “…Ken, what do you mean ‘talk to Ralen?’  How do you know that name and why are you talking to him?”  The Togruta sat straighter, her body rigid.

Ken berated himself; he’d wanted to bring this up much more delicately.  …Well, the rancor was out of the pit now… he thought.  He took a deep breath.  “Jorya…I met with Ralen to ask for his help on our newest mission.  Your father told me that he was a good man and could be counted on, not to mention an expert slicer.”

Jorya didn’t so much as blink.  “…Why do you need a slicer?  And why not ask me to do it?”  She suddenly stood, her anger beginning to flare.  As Ken rose from the couch, Jorya turned upon him, their eyes virtually level.  “What else are you hiding from me?”

But by now, Ken was also angry.  By what right did she have to question him?  “I met with Ralen for my own reasons.  And I don’t tell you everything because you have too much already on your shoulders.”  He knew that he was sidestepping the point but he was trying to resolve their differences, not add to them.  As he opened his mouth, Jorya again cut him off.

“I thought we were supposed to be ‘working’ together.  Isn’t that what you’re always telling me: about ‘keeping or cover’ or ‘doing our job?!’” She’d balled her hands into fists.  “Or is it all a lie?  So you don’t have to hear the truth of the matter?!  You humans…”  She said the last contemptibly.  And as soon as he heard it Ken let his anger off the hook.

“‘You humans?!’  Need I remind you that your father is a human?  Or is that too much ‘truth’ for you to hear?!”  Ken’s stance took on an aggressive posture.

Not backing down, Jorya retorted.  “Oh please Ken!  My father is an exception!  Look at the Empire!  It’s a ‘homo sapiens first’ policy!  And ‘need I remind you’ that it was humans that tortured me!  Mutilated me!”  She pulled on her cybernetic lekku for emphasis.  She was starting to shout.  “They tried to murder me!”

“And it was a human who saved you!  And Gaetana wasn’t even human; she was Ferroan!”  Getting off point, Ken redirected.  “Maybe that’s your problem: you think that just because Scrubber is a ‘fellow Togrutan’ that he’s some messiah come to life!  He allows murder!”

“Those that have been killed are guilty Ken!  That isn’t murder!  These are slavers; it’s better than what they deserve!”  The two of them were almost in each other’s faces.  “And each and every slaver that has retribution visited upon them is also a slaver that can no longer subjugate another, hurt another…kill another…”  She said the last as a whisper.  Her eyes were watery and red but she had no tears.

Inhaling slowly, Ken tried once more.  “…Look Jorya…I…I know that I don’t understand what you’ve been through…but there are…things going on here that are not just suspicious, they’re dangerous…”  But even as he tried to diffuse the situation, Jorya crossed her arms, her face going blank.  But her eyes held fury within.

“You’re right Ken: you can’t possibly know what I—and those who are slaves—have gone through.  You’ve always had your parents, your family, your home.”  Her clear voice stung.

“Jorya…the Maker saw fit that you also have a family, a mother and father who love and support you…” Ken’s own voice held barely controlled anger.

“…And—as you pointed out—because of them rescuing me, I am better for it.”  She arched her brow.  “Would you deny a slave—a person—the same chance just because you can only see things in ‘black and white?’”  The quiet of both of their voices was in direct contrast to their earlier shouting.

“Jorya…you cannot call something ‘good’ when you have done evil in pursuit of it.”  Ken took on a pedantic stance but his voice was full of conviction.

Jorya scowled.  “…Said the boy whose only world-view comes from the comfort of a beautiful planet.” Jorya’s voice was quiet but cruel.

“…Said the girl who’s ang—no, hate—has turned her heart black!”  The heat in his tone surprised even Ken.  Attempting to calm down he Sang a Serenity motif, sotto.  It helped.  Somewhat.  “…I think that you should leave, Jorya.”

“I couldn’t agree more…” And with that, she left without a backwards glance.

And as they thought of and replayed the events of the evening, both felt a rage that consumed them, one that promised future conflict.  But for now they had preparations to make…

            <<<<< >>>>>

As the Star Destroyer came out of hyperspace in a flurry of pseudomotion, it failed to raise any alarms.  But then, the Imperius had no reason to be suspicious as all onboard expected to rendezvous with an Imperial Raider-class corvette.  After all, they were transmitting the correct IFF codes to say nothing of the fact that virtually no one would be in this sector by happenstance.  Once the boarding umbilical was secured, the Imperius’ supply officer opened the hatch expecting the usual transfer of slaves for the corvette’s supplies.  Instead of facing his counterpart he was met by the barrel of a large-bore blaster rifle.  The last thing that went through his head—other than the blaster bolt—was why a Togruta was dressed as a coding tech…

“Nice shot, Krel.”  Jorya nodded to the Aqualish, suddenly scrutinizing his rifle.  “What kind of weapon is that?”

“Anga dol’dubhao, Jorya.” His eyes gleamed.  Jorya looked from him to the small, dark human that always accompanied the Aqualish.

“Sahveni?  What was that?  I caught ‘It’s a powerful weapon’ but I’m not sure about the other word…” Which was highly unusual given Jorya’s skill as a polyglot.

“He said ‘charric’ sirra” Sahveni grinned.  “It’s a charric weapon.  What?  Never heard o’ those on Shili?”  Jorya just nodded as he continued to quietly laugh.  Meanwhile, the rest of Besh Team was filling up the hold preparing to penetrate further into the ship.

Withdrawing her interface Jorya connected it to the datanode accessing the Imperius mainframe.  After downloading her coding, Jorya nodded.  The assault team flooded out of the hold, the element of surprise supplemented by Jorya’s electronic exploits that was supposed to blind the rest of the ship to Besh Team.  As they made their way towards the bridge any crewmembers that they came across were swiftly dealt with, courtesy of the Sons’ charric rifles.

As Jorya walked among the soldiers she thought …I wonder where those weapons came from… a little voice reminding her that Ken had posited just that concern to her.  Ken… She hadn’t meant for things to get that heated…it was just why couldn’t he see—

Suddenly, she stopped as Besh Team came to a closed portal. …That isn’t right… Jorya thought shrugging it off as an oversight.  Making her way to the portal terminal she plugged in her interface, pulling up the logistics code for the door.  What she read in Aurebesh made no sense to her.

…What the…why is this set on “Breach” settings…? She thought absently, typing code to circumvent the protocols.  Mid-keystroke, it hit her…

“We’ve got to get out of here!  NOW!”  But it was too late; from several different portals Optic-Thermal Induction grenades were dropped in as all doors closed shut upon them.  Before anyone could react several concussive explosions blasted around and through Besh Team, wounding those that weren’t immediately killed.

And as Jorya lost consciousness she saw the white armor of stormtroopers crowd into the room, binders at the ready…

            <<<<< >>>>>

Even as the Liberator was docking with the ISD Imperius, the remaining three Raider corvettes—the Emancipator, the Indomitable Will, and Vcrgu’s Whore—were half a light-year away on a synchronized countdown.  As one they would make the jump and drop out of hyperspace along the three axes corresponding to the star destroyer, simultaneously bombarding the ship with their combined ion cannons.  Once there, Hammer- and Anvil-Flights would engage the four squadrons of Imperius TIEs.

…Well, part of the plan… Ken thought as he sat in the cockpit of his TIE Avenger, absolute darkness surrounding him.  Another thought skirted across his mind as he attempted to reconcile the adrenaline rush and his “battle calm:” ...What kind of name for a ship is Vcrgu’s Whore…?  But it was soon forgotten as he felt the slight shift as the inertial dampeners attempted to compensate for the jump to hyperspace.  …Game time… he couldn’t help but think as he watched the chronometer count down a second time.  And quietly in his ear on a private channel he heard, “Don’t worry, probie.  Between Scrubber, Ornil, and Ziac’ch, we’ve got every possibility covered.”

“Thanks Ry…” He was grateful for her playful optimism but in truth he was still angry—and admittedly a little worried—about Jorya.  Something…intangible that he just couldn’t shake.  Surrounding himself with a Clarity motif, he brought his breathing back to normal.  And none too soon; his chronometer had just hit “0.”

Again the shift as the inertial dampeners attempted to compensate.  Then, Ken felt the subtle shift again.  …Almost… He didn’t even bother to close his eyes; stark blackness surrounded him.  Instead he switched to an open channel.  Suddenly, the cacophony of voices blared in his audio receptors. 

“Hammer 3, watch your six.”

“Anvil 2, 1.  Line up, your vector is off.”

“Hammer 4, veer off.  Veer of—!”

“Anvil 1! I have no joy, repeat: no joy!”

Ken could separate each individual comm… And then, his chronometer hit “0” again.  …About kriffing time… he thought, an explosion rocking around his Avenger.  All along the superstructure of the Indomitable Will false bulkheads jettisoned outward into space, uncovering hidden fighter bays incorporated into the fuselage allowing a full squadron to hide undetected.  The trap had been sprung; the Imperius’ TIEs between a literal Sledge and Mallot.

As he and Mallot Flight left the stealth hanger they joined the fierce dogfighting, TIE against TIE.  But Ken was in his element.  Before even a minute had elapsed he’d downed three enemy fighters.

“Chalk number 3 for Mallot 1.” He heard Ry say over the net.  Soon Ken saw that Mallot Flight was being joined by Ry’s Sledge, further tipping the favor for the Sons’ squadrons.

But again Ken felt that nagging feeling in the back of his neck.  …Something is wrong… And even as he thought it he noticed a swarm of TIE Interceptors launching from the Imperius.

…By the Maker… he thought.  Over comms, Ornil’s clear voice intoned.  “Flights, the Imperius has a full wing of fighters!  Evasive maneuvers now!”  As the enemy Interceptors engaged, Ken saw something that made him doubt his eyes at first.

Just before the Interceptors came into firing range of the Sons’ TIEs, some of the ships of Hammer and Anvil Flights lost power, adrift and helpless until the lasers of the Interceptors picked them off.

He quickly had two thoughts: ...they’ve weaponized their EMP*… and …Ry…!

Over comms, Ken commanded, “All Mallots, Sledges I need for you to pull back!  The Interceptors have some sort of tactical directional EMP!  Regroup at 583-Mark-Niner.”

Ken’s mind raced.  He wasn’t the slicer that Jorya was; if he could just sl—

Inhaling quickly, he slowly nodded his head as a plan took ahold.  Over comms he said, “All Flights, Mallot 1.  I need you to retreat.  I’m going in.”

*****************************************************************************************************************

CPT: Cockpit Procedures Trainer
EMP: ElectroMagnetic Pulse

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 6: Finagle's Law, Part III

The door to the Detention cell opened admitting a squad of stormtroopers, an Imperial Interrogator, and what Jorya thought was an Imperial Navy captain.  No she realized, the captain.

“I’m Captain Rafi Duval.  Which one of you is the slicer that attempted to penetrate my systems?” The nondescript human asked nonchalantly.

Still trying to fight the dizziness from the grenades Jorya fought to sit upright.  “I am.”  She just wished that she could have talked to her parents first before they… “I did it.”  She almost vomited again but she willed herself to remain rigid.  Strong.  Unafraid. …Dad…

The captain—Duval—turned to the stormtroopers.  “Bring her.  Keep the rest of that lot for leverage and later for Interrogation.” 

And as the troopers half-carried, half-dragged Jorya she couldn’t help but ask: “How’d you know that we were here…?”  Her voice was still weak but at least it sounded clearer.

Not immediately answering, the captain kept walking through the well-lit gray bulkheads.  “After I had to put down a mutiny of traitors, I instructed my tech personnel to increase security on the mainframe so that any foreign enumeration would be immediately reported.”  He stopped walking, looking directly into Jorya’s blue eyes.  “You blundered right into our trap.”  As her face fell the captain was silent until they reached the bridge.  “Damage report.”  As various departments checked in, Duval turned to a short, thin hard-looking woman.  “Lieutenant, continue with ion-barrage countermeasures.  Ensign, hail the first enemy corvette.  Keep the channel open.”  Once he had confirmation, he spoke deliberately, his voice strong and concise.  “This is Captain Duval of the ISD Imperius.  I have your slicer.  If you do not call off your attack, I will have her watch as I kill each of your confederates.  Then, I will have her flayed alive.  You have one minute to respond.”  Even as he spoke, he began to examine his fingernails, his arrogance apparent to everyone within the bridge.  But he had every right to feel arrogant.

He was winning.

            <<<<< >>>>>

Scrubber’s raptor-like gaze never waivered, his fierce yellow eyes locked upon the Imperius.  Absently, he pulled on his remaining lekku.

“…Boss…” Ornil’s voice tentatively sounded.

“Scrubber…” Ziac’ch looked askance at his leader.  Kal’Estp was silent; he was still attempting to counteract the Imperial’s EMP…

After a moment Scrubber stopped moving, suddenly speaking in just above a whisper, “No more…”

            <<<<< >>>>>

“Don’t do anything stupid, probie!” Ry’s voice was in Ken’s ear.  But more importantly he could feel her in the Force, in the Song, in his heart.

“Ry…keep Mallot and Sledge Flights back.” …Please…

And then seeing that the datapad Ralen had given him had finally secured a connection with the host—the ISD Imperius—Ken gritted his teeth punching “Execute.”  As far as everyone could tell, nothing happened.  Except to Ken.

From his HUD* he could see the transmissions from the Imperius target and infect the Interceptors; simultaneously, the Imperius’ ion shielding dropped.  As soon as he saw that the last Interceptor had the download, Ken maneuvered his Avenger into a ferocious attack run.  The first Interceptors that he came across didn’t even bother with evading, so certain that their EMPs would take care of the suicidal pilot.

Ken could imagine their surprise as his lasers lanced through their airframes, spherical explosions resulting as the small reactors within the fighters went critical.  “All Flights: engage.  I say again: engage.” Ken’s lone voice across the comms was the harbinger of a veritable womprat shoot as the Sons’ fighters surprise attack washed over the Imperius flight of remaining TIEs.

“Great shooting, Dagger!”  Kept repeating over the comms, gratitude and amazement evident in the multitude of voices belonging to the pilots of Hammer and Anvil, Mallot and Sledge Flights.  But the single voice that he heard like a clarion bell despite being virtually drown out by the rest was the one that filled him with pride.  And love.

“Good job, probie.”

            <<<<< >>>>>

“You will tell me the name of your organization; we’ll start with that.”  The pig-faced Imperial Interrogator oily smirked.  Even as the Imperial Interrogation Droid extended one of the many syringes along its body, Krel’lth remained silent.  “Aqualish, you will talk.  It’s all about how much pain you can handle…”  Turning his head, the Interrogator paused, thinking he’d heard a sound from behind the blast door.  Cocking his head as if the gesture would allow him to hear through the multiple layers of durasteel, the Interrogator held his breath.  Nothing.  Nothing at all.

“Well, then.  Shall we contin—”  Before the words had left his mouth the blast door blew inward, striking three of the four stormtroopers in the Detention cell along with the Interrogator.  It did not stop until it came into contact with the far bulkhead, the remains of the bodies crushed down to a few centimeters.  Blood poured across the floor in a river, finally draining down a convenient channel in the center of the floor.

The remaining stormtrooper leveled her blaster, firing into…nothing.  She could see absolutely nothing in the doorway until the darkness…moved.  Faster than anything she’d ever seen the shadows came to life, an enormous black sword cutting through the barrel of her blaster while she backed up into the wall, her hands held up in terror.  Then she saw two things, both red.

The hulking shadow raised a gigantic rifle the likes of which she’d never seen, almost…crystalline… And in the creases…pulsing red light glowed like the hellfires from her childhood fears.

And when he fired the weapon she saw a river of blood explode, only realizing as she lay dying that it was her own lifeblood that obscured her vision…

            <<<<< >>>>>

“Your time is up.”  Captain Duval’s bored proclamation made Jorya’s head hurt even more.  “As a consequence, you will learn that I mean what I say.  Interrogator Nargn: execute a prisoner.”  Again he took to examining his nails, his pale skin looking sickly under the bridge lighting.

But only silence answered him.

“Interrogator Nargn…respond.”  Duval’s head turned as he looked to the communication tech for confirmation.  Her nod implied that the channel was open and working.  “Sergeant Shapris?  Trooper Yavoog?  Dammit, anyone in the Detention center respond!”

Even as the captain barked orders, one of the shield technicians shouted, “Captain!  Our shields are dropping!  Their ion cannons are now effective!”  Duval growled, his face turning red.

And as the captain’s calm façade swiftly deteriorated, Jorya quietly laughed.  “Shut up you slagging tralk!”  His kick caught her by surprise knocking her to the deck, pain erupting in Jorya’s dislocated shoulder as she landed on her bound arms.  “Lieutenant Daggoth!  Take a contingent of stormtroopers down to Detention and report back.”  He grinned.

But as the lieutenant and her retinue were marching to the turbolifts the door exploded inwards, killing several of the bridge crew.  And it was just as the smoke cleared that Jorya saw Black Armor.

He moved through the bridge, in one hand a sword as tall as her, in the other, a black rifle that glowed red along lines that followed their own paths…

His movements were faster than even her Togruta eyes could follow.  He seemingly teleported from one spot to another, always followed by Imperials dying in an unusually grisly and bloody fashion.  The walls and floor was soon covered with enough blood that one could be forgiven for thinking that the bridge had been deliberately painted red…

And then suddenly, he was standing next to her, towering, hulking, enormous.

The last thought that Jorya had before she lost consciousness was that she now knew what Death looked like…

*****************************************************************************************************************

HUD: Heads Up Display

[Karmack]

Dutchman.  That. 

Was

AWESOME!

Amazing!  I am sooooo going to have to work to follow that!  :-)

[Lord_S_Gray]

Amazing again, setting up with Jorya imprisoned at the start was a good way to structure it I think, created expectation that massively paid off with an awesome battle, both sides cunning and determined...but the Imperials lacked the Ace of Spades Scrubber had up his sleeve....Finagles or Murphy's law as some know it seemed in operation for both sides.

Cool crossover with Nadia and Anton too...Ralen seems a bit...disgruntled to say the least.

Ken is interesting in this, he goes out of his way to get the slice to help in the battle...seals things with Ry...but then wrecks things with Jorya, worse than before even....and as for his suspicions....I can't wait till he hears regarding Jorya's rescue.

Great stuff, both Karm and Dutchman to get this so deep and rich every time.

[Taegin Roan]

This chapter just made me happy. The first thing was Anton and Nadia. What better way to introduce "Brothers" and TDC's world into the rest of ours. Then Ralen. I've got to say, you write him as well as I do (if not better). The fact that he is a good 3 or so years older than he is in the RPG helps out a lot. But the real masterpiece in this chapter was Black Armor. I am starting to get a sense of who he might be, though I could easily be wrong, but no matter who or what, he is an incredible unique character. So much in this chapter to enjoy. Can't wait to see where we go from here.

[TheDrunkenConsular]

Okay, I finally got all the way caught up, and I loved it!  The way a you described the Force aura around Anton and Nadia's cantina(which, to everyone reading, I can't remember if this detail made it into my posted draft, is nameless for a reason) and I actually get a bit of a Dark Nest feeling.  (I'm not sure if Troy Denning's books are generally considered a high point of the EU, but I personally enjoy them very much.)

Thanks to both authors for their efforts, and I can't wait for the next chapter, and it was an honor to have my story woven into the continuity!

[TheDutchman]

Thanks so much for the feedback guys!  Special thanks to one and ALL of you!  I seriously could not have written this without you: Karm: character(s)/plot, LSG: storyboarding/plot, TR:Ralen (LOVE this character!), TDC: setting/characters 

This is what makes our shared continuity SO much fun: a veritable WEALTH of information, characters, and ideas!  And after Karm's spectacular CH.5 I knew I would have to really bring my "A" game 

Back to you Karm!

[Lord_S_Gray]

Forgot to mention loved the bit on Race relations too, but it is a great little bit of less than noble argument on both sides and shows how dirty Ken and Jorya's disagreement has become, but also really ties well with a post Empire situation where that human privilege is breaking down.

[Karmack]

Chapter 7: Maskirovka
(Part 1)

Scrubber strode onto the bridge of the ISD Imperius with all the panache of a conquering prince.  In his usual place at his shoulder was Black Armor.  No one would have known from his lack of reaction that the dark warrior had already been here.  Indeed, Scrubber had also been on the bridge, just minutes after the ship had gone dead under the pounding of the Son's ion cannons.  He'd been grim then, both at the blood-splashed decks ... and the badly injured Jorya, who had immediately been whisked away for needed medical attention.

Now the bridge was manned not by the crew - they were all quite dead - but by members of the Son's assault teams and boarding teams.  Or rather the follow-on boarding teams.  Nearly 40% of Besh Team had been killed in the counter-ambush conducted by the Storm Troopers, and nearly all of the survivors had been wounded to some extent or another.  Scrubber had despaired of the plan failing, and particularly at losing so many valuable troops, when Black Armor had moved to support the assault.

Scrubber shuddered a bit at the thought.  His companion was powerful beyond description, yet he was both subtle and circumspect.  He had been instrumental in setting up the weapons and supply pipelines that made the current resurgence of the Sons of Kessel possible, yet as impossible as the quality of weapons seemed to be it was obvious that he had access to technology that was an order of magnitude better, perhaps beyond anything anyone else in the galaxy had...

Scrubber tugged at his lekku thoughtfully as he noted again the splashes of blood around the bridge.  Red blood.

Human blood.

The old anger boiled up in him again, and again he pushed it down.  Anger and rage had their place and time...but they were rarely constructive emotions.  Scrubber was above all else a realist.  He wanted to end slavery.  ALL slavery.  He would use whatever tool came to his hand to that, whether it as a hammer, a sword, a blaster, or a Star Destroyer.  Whatever it was, he would find a way to work with it to free as many of his Sirs and Sirras as he could.

On the other hand...  A Star Destroyer!

Scrubber reached the apex of the bridge, the very center of command authority.  The bodies had been removed and most of the blood spilled had been cleaned up, but enough of the stains were left in place to drive home the point that a battle had been fought - and won - here.  Scrubber glanced down and noted the mingling of Togruta blood with the human blood on the deck.  This was the very spot where the human captain, Duval, had held Jorya and made his threats.  

Appropriate.  It was time.  He turned and looked down at the communications tech manning the bridge station, a wiry Kath.  His voice has a hissing quality to it.  "Whenever you're ready, sssir."

Scrubber nodded again, folded his hands behind his back, and looked around the brdige.  "My Sirs and Sirras!  I am humbled.  You have, through your gallant sacrifice and dedication, won this great ship!  The day and the ship, friends is ours!  No longer the Imperius, this ship will henceforth be known as the Unchained!  And with it, my Sirs and Sirras, we will unchain our bretheren.  With this ship we will move on those who continue to hold them in bondage!  With this ship, we will unchain all who are held as chattal."  Scrubber paused as a cheer rose on the bridge.  He waited, raising his hands to calm them.  Whe he spoke again his voice rang like a clarion.  "Sires!  Siras!  Sons!  Family!  Because of you ... YOU! ... today we are FREE!  Because of you we are ALIVE!  Because of you we are now able to move on!  We will take our prize, the Unchained, back to Eurydicen and make preparations.  And when we are ready, we will pay our old friend Myzm III a visit!  Soon multitudes of our brethren will share the name "Unchained"!

This time the response was thunderous, even from the small group of boarders on the bridge.  And the cheering echoed through the ship, where the intercom system had carried his words, as well as to the corvettes escorting the Star Destroyer.  It seemed for a time that the very fabric of space itself vibrated with the cheers of the unchained as they celebrated their new victory - and the one who'd led them to it.

********

Ken kept formation effortlessly, flying CAP* with the rest of Mallot flight around the gaggle of starships.  Sons of Kessel engineers - aided by 'technical advisors' that had once again appeared out of the woodwork at just the right time - had put the Unchained's engines and systems back online quickly and the massive ship was now moving under her own power again.  His own flight was in an extended combat spread flying in eschelon to the left from his lead.  Somewhere off to the right Ry led her Sledge flight in a similar formation, both flights sweeping ahead of the main body as they prepared to jump out.  Ry's presence burned like a bright candle in the back of his mind.  He'd kept a connection to her open in the force through the battle, a peripheral awareness of where she was and her condition.  He mentally caressed that spark of awareness now, fondly and gently.  "Mallot One to Sledge One: We're coming up on the jump coordinates.  How does your sector look?"

"All clear, Mallot One.  You?"

Ken chuckled.  "We're good on this front.  We should be home in time for supper."

"Is that an invitation?"

Ken blushed and checked to make sure they were on a private circuit.  "Yes.  Dinner ... and dessert?"

There was a pause, just long enough to quicken Ken's pulse, then... "Count on it, Probie."

Ken felt the smile on his face widen into a totally rediculous grin.  Before he could respond, however, the general circuit crackled.  "All ships, prepare to jump to lightspeed."

Ken checked his navicomputer.  "Coordinates set.  Mallot flight navicomputers are syncronized and ready." Ken reported, then settled himself into his seat.  There was a pause, then the wormhole opened in front of him.  The Mallot Flight TIE Avengers leapt into hyperspace, followed closely by Sledge Flight, and then in sequence the corvettes and finally the massive new Star Destroyer.  

The Sons of Kessel were returning home, victorious.  None of them remained to notice the inky black arrow-head that followed them into hyperspace.

********

Per policy, they emerged in the outer system.  "Mallot flight, fan out and begin sensor sweep." Ken called, activating his on-board sensors and starting his own leg of the sweep.  His HUD showed Sledge flight doing the same in their sector, while other fighters fanned out in a globe around the corvettes and the new Star Destroyer, sniffing for anyone who might be following them ... or waiting to see who showed up.

Ken was about to end his leg and loop back when he started getting some odd readings from the vicinity of the outer-system gas giant.  Teth VII had never been given a name, and it was largely unimpressive.  Ken knew that the Sons had a regular run of gas collection ships that would mine the planet for fuel and useful industrial gasses, but none of those ships were currenly in orbit.  But there was something there...  

Ken tuned his sensors and then on a hunch he filtered for the frequencies that Two had reported from the Oblivion-armored ship that had been in the hanger on and off since they arrived.  After a few seconds he had confirmation that there was a similar ship there.  The readings were sporadic and fluctuated wildly, making no sense whatsoever, but the frequency ranges and patters were similar enough to be virtually identical - but far more powerful.  Ken reached out with the force, but sensed nothing at all.  Nor was the song any help.  Well.  Maybe a different approach?

Ken closed his sensors down and concentrated.  Instead of looking for a ship he just looked at the planet, studying it in the force, tracing its power curves and the ebb and flow of the force through it until...  Gotcha!  There it was.  A 'hole' in the planet's force presence, hovering over the southern pole of the planet.  Inside the atmosphere, barely visible to the naked eye, but perfectly positioned to monitor the Son's small fleet as it passed in-system.

Ken twitched his fighter slightly.  "Mallot One to Mallot Flight.  Reform and assume escort positions." he called.  He looped his fighter around in a lazy arc, cutting the chord, letting his flight form on him ... and swinging fairly close to the Teth VII.  His pulse quickened slightly as a schertzo of danger suddenly erupted in the song, only to just as quickly fade as he continued his turn and arced away from the planet.  Well.  Someone was watching...  

Around him Mallot Flight formed and they took up station, leading the armada in-system while Ken set up a secure link to the Wayfarer.  "Two, squeal coming in from this fighter.  Analyze and compare to the other anomolies we've cataloged."  

He punched the transmit button and his fighter compressed the sensor data and shot it out in a burst transmission.  Ken didn't have high hopes that Two would learn anything new, but he was more than curious...  On his small screen the frozen image of a black arrow-headed shape, shrouded in gas and only partially visible, was overlayed by a ranging grid.  It was black, menacing, and looked like a small Star Destroyer, only without any visible towers or protrusions.  

Ken shuddered.  "That ship ... is death." He murmured.

A sudden spike in the force and the song made him gasp.  ... pain ... dizziness ... fear ... anger ... pain ...

"Jorya..." Ken rasped, the fighter jiggling for a moment as Ken pulled himself loose from the sudden connection.  

"Mallot One, you alright?" his wing called.  

"Affirmative.  Just bumped the controls." Ken replied, shaking his head to clear it.  Something happened to Jorya!

"Dagger, I TOLD you to grab a stim!  You can't be dozing off like that..." Mallot 3 called next.  A human called "Grifter", one of Ken's trainees, he was a gifted pilot with sharp reflexes - and a highly abrasive and sarcastic sense of humor.  Ken tried very hard to simply ignore him, or just roll with the punches.  He chose to ignore him now.

"Mallot flight, check status and go to short-range sensors, we're coming into the outer intercept zone.  Verify your IFF as well, I'd prefer not to lose one of you to the automated defensive systems."  Ken grinned as Mallot 3 suddenly appeared on IFF with the rest of the flight.  Guess you need that stim more than I do, eh?

Ken did a visual scan, then let his concentration return to Jorya.  His connection to her was to tenuous to initiate a healing song.  Not while he was flying.  He'd have to go see her after they landed.  Hang in there, Jorya!  I'll be seeing you soon!

It was several long minutes before the welcome site of Teth III appeared.  "Mallot flight, set beacons and return to base."

called the CAG from the Liberator.  "Well done, Mallots!  First round is on me."

Ken didn't join the cheering of his pilots.  He was to focused on getting down - and getting to Jorya.

[Karmack]

Chapter 7: Maskirovka
(Part 2)

By the time Ken was finished securing his fighter the first shuttles were landing from the Unchained.  Ken paused next to a pillar and opened himself up to the force, scanning for Jorya. 

Nothing.

Ken hid his disappointment and drifted over to the gaggle of pilots gathering nearby.  "Tu-tu, good job up there."

The grisled veteran grinned at him.  "And you.  Not sure how you pulled that reversal off but that was a nice piece of flying."

Ken accepted the complement gracefully.  "Just in the right place at the right time."  Ken tipped his head toward the crowd of people forming up on the tarmac.  "Any word on what's going on down there?"

Another of the pilots spoke up.  "Crewmen that the Impies captured.  They're being given the sales pitch." the pilot grinned at him.  "Join the cause ..."

Ken let his face go serious.  "Join ... or die?"

Tu-Tu barked laughter.  "Aw, probie, so dramatic!  No.  Scrubber has an old freighter ready to go.  Anyone who's not interested will be hauled back to Mos Eisley and let go there with enough pocket change to get to wherever they need to get.  You've been reading to many agitprops, m'boy."

Ken joined the laughter of the veterans.  It was good humor, shared with men who respected his abilities and accomplishments.  And deep down, Ken found he was greatly relieved.  As much as things didn't add up, he was still very sympathetic toward Scrubber and the Sons.  He wanted to help them.  He was helping them.  But still...

Ken shook off the thoughts.  "Any idea when the wounded will be off-loaded?"

"Already done, Dagger.  They took the survivors from Team Besh down to the infirmary a few minutes ago."

"Thanks."  Ken turned to leave, nearly bumping into R'Lyak. "Oh! Ry!" He picked her up, twirled her around, set her back down and kissed her full on the lips.  "Dinner..."

R'Lyak laughed, draping her arms around his neck.  "Yes.  And ... dessert." 

Ken grinned.  "Yes.  But first I need to go see Jorya.  She was injured in the boarding action.  Badly, I think."

Ry's face shaded with her own worry.  "Oh.  Of course.  Go.  I'll ... grab something to go and meet you in your quarters for dinner ... and dessert."

Ken's grin grew.  "Wouldn't miss it."  He leaned in, giving her a more lingering kiss, then left her smiling behind him.

Ry turned and met the looks from the gathered pilots.  "What?  Go on, there's nothing to see here."

"Not here..." Grifter quipped.

Ry just shot him a wide grin.  "Nope.  And never for you!" 

Ry left the group behind, showering their fellow with teasing remarks.  Like Ken, she had an appointment to keep...

********

Ken eased into the cubical where Jorya lay.  She looked ... broken.  There was no other word for it.  The medic had filled him in, she was suffering from multiple lacerations and contusions, as well as complications from a dislocated shoulder and a severe concussion.  There were several other survivors hurt far worse, but Ken could see the damage in her brain in the force.  The physical damage was fairly minor.  But the mind...

Ken laid his hand gently on her forehead.  "Heal, Jorya..." he sang a healing motif, the strongest one he could handle, pouring as much healing energy into her as he could handle.  Wake up, Jorya.  Wake up...

Jorya's eyes fluttered open.  "Ken?  Where am I?  I was on the bridge..."

Ken felt the fear slam through her, misinterpreting it.  "Jorya, its ok.  You're in the Rook medical bay.  Scrubber took the ship and rescued the survivors from your team.  You're safe."

Jorya gripped his arm with her free hand.  "Safe?  No..." she shuddered.  "Ken, he was there.  Black Armor.  He..." she swallowed, visibly reigning in her emotions.  When she continued, her eyes were wide.  "He killed everyone, Ken.  Everyone...

Ken gently stroked her head as he'd observed her father and mother do on occasion.  "It's OK, Jorya.  Relax...  He's not coming for you."

Jorya took more deep breaths.  "You're right..."  She relaxed visibly.  "My head...doesn't hurt.  And my mind is clear."  She glanced at the doorway, where the medical team, droids and beings, were working.  "Did you do that?"

Ken smiled at her.  "Triage..."

She smiled back, but then grimaced as she moved her shoulder.  "Just the head though?"

Ken sobered.  "Yeah.  Can't take it to far.  Besides, I didn't want to rob you of your hero status."  Ken grinned again.  "I expect that Kal'Estp is going to be singing your praises again when they see what your worm program did after you were captured.  Almost too slow, to be sure, but a brilliant move."

Jorya blinked several times.  "What are you talking about?"

Ken just grinned.  "I'm not surprised you don't remember.  Not with the knock you took on the head." 

Jorya gave him several more blinks, then finally shrugged.  "You Mak'Tor..."

Ken smiled.  "I am glad you're OK.  I was worried there for a while."

"Well, you had reason to worry.  If it hadn't been for Black Armor..."  She let the sentence trail off, and Ken felt her internal shudder of fear in the force. 

"He was really that scary?"

Jorya nodded.  "Yes.  Something else..."  Jorya hesitated.  It felt like a betrayal somehow to mention her own doubts, but Ken was right earlier.  They had to know.  All of it.  "Ken, the assault force, most of them were using charric weapons."

"Charric?  You're sure?"  Ken rocked back in his chair.  "Charric...  That would make sense..."

"Sense? How?" Jorya hissed at him.  She was keeping her voice as low as possible.  They did NOT need to be overheard having this conversation!  "What else do you know?"

Ken thought about holding back, but the wall between them bothered him.  Especially the rage that fueled it. He heard his mother's voice echo in his head, a past lesson he had not truely understood. Only truth will defuse the hatred.  We might still be angry, but without hate behind it anger is only an emotion.  Truth...  "Ralen gave me a lot, Jorya.  Deep slicing codes that bypass the operational systems on almost all Imperial craft by going to their root codes.  Operational doctrine and tactical data.  And ... weapons manifests and transfer orders for material and even some men.  Jorya, I don't know how they managed it, but Black Armor's people managed to get Admiral Trawn to transfer both Imperial tech as well as shipments of Chiss weaponry directly  to the Sons of Kessel."

"The Chiss?"  Jorya rubbed her montrals.  "Why would the Chiss care..." her eyes went wide.  "Unless they plan to make a move?  Take over Hutt space, maybe the Outer Rim as well?"

Ken shrugged.  "Maybe.  Hard to tell.  Despite what Ralen gave me, I don't think Thrawn or the Imperial remnants out here are directly involved.  Except, maybe, as pawns.  No, I think whoever Black Armor is, his people are actually pulling the strings.  As to their end game..."  Ken shrugged again.  "I have no idea."  Ken leaned back.  "Before we launched I had Two relay a complete copy of what Ralen gave me to your secure system.  You should have everything now, including his slicing codes."  Ken leaned forward again, taking her good hand in his.  "I am so sorry, Jorya.  If I'd leveled with you and given you all of Ralen's data you might have avoided the ambush.  I almost got you killed, and I am VERY sorry!  I won't make that mistake again."

Jorya squeezed his hand.  "Forgiven, probie.  Just don't do it again!"  Her eyes hardened.  "I want to verify the data, but if Ralen says the supplies are coming from the Empies..."  She drifted off and her eyes glazed over a bit. 

Ken stood.  "Rest, Jorya.  Heal.  We can talk again in the morning."

"OK.  G'night..."  Jorya faded off into healing sleep, her exhaustion finally overwhelming her.

Ken touched her shoulder one last time, decided it would heal fully and quickly under the normal treatment, and turned to leave.  He almost ran into Ornil as he left Jorya's cubicle. "Sir!"  Ken snapped to attention. 

Ornil just caught her balance and turned, waving for Ken to follow her.  "C'mon probie.  The Boss wants to see you."

Ken, caught by surprise, just nodded and followed along behind.

********

Ornil led him back out into Rook, then across into the adjacent Bishop bay.  Ken felt his apprehension growing as they passed the security check-points.  Did they pick up the squeal?  Monitor my conversation with Jorya?  Ken calmed his nerves.  All he could do was ride along; the meetings' purpose would be revealed in due time.

As they rounded the corner Ken felt another shock rock though him.  "No way..."

Ornil turned and smiled at him.  "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Bishop bay was new, just opened and recently equipped.  There were twelve cradles for TIE fighters plus the support equipment to service them.  Only four of the cradles were occupied, but the ships...  "Defenders, they're called."  Ken just nodded mutely.  TIE Defenders were the absolute pinnacle of the TIE lines.  Faster and more heavily armed than even the TIE "Avengers", the Defender was an amazing ship, better than anything else in space.  These had been painted dark gray with a dark red trim.  "I know we just gave you Mallot flight, but considering your performance today..."

Another voice picked up from Ken's left, coming around the nearest Defender.  "...we decided you deserved another promotion." Scrubber finished.  Ken turned and took the hand extended to him by Scrubber.  "We're calling this one the "Red Tails.  Your call-sign will be "Thunderbolt".  You'll be tasked with independent operations and as escort and support for the Unchained, and be our spear-head when we take down Myzm III and the Justicar.  We'll go over the details with you tomorrow, as well as talk about your team.  For now..." Scrubber turned and in a surprise move he gripped Ken on the shoulder.  "You've provided leadership and heroics that have saved many lives and freed many of our brothers.  For that, I thank you."

Scrubber, eyes shining, squeezed his shoulder much as his father might, then turned and walked away.  Ken felt the smile freeze on his face as Black Armor, instead of following immediately, suddenly pinned him with his eyes.  Ken felt the Song spike, a frenzied arpeggio of notes, but before fear could form it was over and Black Armor...

Black Armor was behind Scrubber, almost like he'd teleported... What just happen?

Ken hammered his pulse back down.  Get a grip!  Scrubber just handed you the hottest ride in the GALAXY!  He's not suspicious.  Ken, biomechanics back under control, looked up at the fighters and grinned.  "Oh yeah..."  He was about to climb up into the nearest when another thought suddenly rocked through his brain, driving his heart rate back up again.

Ry!

********

Ken entered his quarters and immediately noted the darkened room.  "Ry?"  His heart skipped a beat when she stepped out of the bedchamber.  Her hair, auburn, cascaded down from her head, released from the usual long braid she wore.  His eyes roved, noted that she painted her toenailes to match her fingernails.  And she was wearing one of his shirts, a button-down, white dress shirt he'd brought along to keep his mother off his back.  Suddenly he was glad he'd brought it: He could just make out the trace of her body through the fabric...  "Wow..."

R'Lyak advanced to him and kissed him.  "Took you long enough flyboy."  She stepped back.  "I know you're hungry, but..." Ken realized she'd had her left hand behind her back.  She brought it forward now.  "...I think we need to have a talk."

In her hand was his lightsaber.  He looked into her expectant eyes.  "Yes.  Talk." Ken grinned.  "Then dessert."




*CAP: Combat Air Patrol

[Illyiss]

Mysteries and enigmas, dancing a dangerous duel in the depths of space...  Time slowing, and yet over too quickly, the story, beckoning the reader to continue, yet wait we must...  Superb, and wonderfully written, clearly showing that good is being done, and the dark advancing it not as clear cut as it seemed, and more are pawns than we thought at first...  And the mystery of Dark Armor, his ship and now the, unless I read that wrong, much larger ship of the same material...

[TheDrunkenConsular]

Awesome chapter!

[Lord_S_Gray]

“Only truth will defuse the hatred.” Now that is a very interesting statement…

Interesting connection between Scrubbers view that his friends have better weapons then getting TIE Defenders…no one gives away ships like that UNLESS they have something better?

Also interesting Ken’s enthusiasm to fly the defenders so shortly after he got the Stare…was it a stare of warning, gratitude for his role in the attack…or perhaps something only the person behind the armour could understand….either way it’s fairly obvious BA knows exactly who Ken is and why he is there.

There is a curious irony through this chapter in that Ken – the Mak’Tor spy, is worried someone else is playing the Sons through their support…which in a way is exactly what he is doing….And then he’s faced with the issue, even if that is the case, so long as they are continuing to fulfil their mission of liberating slaves, does it really matter who’s helping them?