4
Jaysaan was settled impatiently in the waiting room when they finally took Kysal out of the bacta tank she had been in for the past week and a half. The past week had been unbelievably tense for the squadron. They were undergoing new training to deal with the now imminent threat of the Yuuzhan Vong. The rigorous programs strained the skills of all of the pilots, from the best to the least skilled. Some of the more experienced pilots were having trouble adjusting to the new techniques that had to be used to defeat, or at least hold their own, against the Vong.
Lost in thought, Jaysaan hardly noticed the medic calling him from Kysal's room. When he finally noticed, the medic was finishing up with what he was saying. "...can come in now. She is still rather weak, but so far everything looks okay."
Jaysaan jumped up and followed the medic into the room. He immediately spotted his friend lying on a cot stationed up against a wall. He was surprised at how frail Kysal looked. Her skin was uncharacteristically pale and her usual healthy look was gone. Jaysaan pulled up a chair and set it by the head of the cot.
"Kysal," he said, taking her hand. Her eyes fluttered opened and she smiled weakly up at Jaysaan.
"Hey," he tried again. "How are you doing?"
"Hey yourself," Kysal said. "I'm fine, but I could use a good drink. Could you get me one?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea." Jaysaan smiled. Even in the worst of health, Kysal would always be Kysal. "When are they gonna' release you from this sterile prison?" Jaysaan gestured at the white room.
Kysal sat up with an effort. "I don't know. If it's not soon, I'll die of boredom."
"Oh really. You've only been out of the bacta tank for a couple of minutes."
Kysal smirked. "This is not the first time I've had to lay around in a wardroom for days." She yawned. "But right now, I'd rather be no place else." Kysal slouched back down and closed her eyes.
"Good night." Jaysaan released her hand. He had forgotten he had been holding it. He gave Kysal a friendly kiss on the forehead, then quietly left the room, relieved that she was going to be okay.
Ashta was in her office, staring at a datapad in her hand when her husband entered. He stopped and stared at her quietly for a moment, and then, striding forward, slid the chair across from her desk out and plunked down into it. He waited, his dark eyes calmly fixed on her.
�What do you want?� She finally asked, allowing a small smile to escape her lips.
He tilted his head slightly to the side. �It�s late.�
She glanced over the top of the datapad at him. �I know.� She stated. Her eyes did not return to the datapad.
He smiled at her. �I�m supposed to be here to help you, and late work is one activity not highly recommended.�
Ashta chuckled, but it trailed off into a sigh. She set the datapad down, and ran her fingers through the top of her long braid of silvery hair. Sktash reached over and snatched the pad she had laid down, and studied it. When he finished, he shook it at her.
�Stop it.�
Ashta frowned. �Stop what?�
�Worrying. I know you�re worried for the safety of your squadron. I would be too if I were in your place.� He gave her a quick smile.
Ashta shook her head. �Our first real mission. Three wounded. You don�t have any idea what that does to my morale much less, the rest of the squadron.�
Her husband reached across the desk, and taking her slender hand in his big one, he squeezed it. �I can imagine.�
Ashta managed a smile. �Thanks.�
Sktash returned the favor. �Not necessary.�
* * *
Even though the mess hall was rather warm, Dera kept her jacket on. The collar was upturned so no one could see her upset expression. Dera was feeling rather sorry for herself, as well as Jarred. She wasn't quite sure why though.
Dera called a service droid over and ordered a light ale. Even though she wanted to escape her troubles, she would rather stay sober. Dera wasn't a heavy drinker and she wasn't about to start now. The droid brought her drink and extended an arm for her payment. Dera reached in her pocket for a couple of credits, but she found that she didn't have any credits on her.
Rolling her eyes in disgust, she said, "Put it on my tab."
When the droid told her that she didn't have one, Dera couldn't resist a muttered curse. "Well make me one then."
"Full name, please." The droid's ever polite voice was infuriating, but Dera kept her calm.
"Dera Donos."
The droid gave her a polite farewell and rolled off to tend to other pilots. A drink later, the Commander walked in. From the stern look on her face, Dera could tell she wasn't here to buy a round of drinks. Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later.
"Attention Sabers!" Commander Rlgah said loudly to get her pilots' attention. "Assemble in the briefing room in ten minutes. I will be introducing the members of two squadrons who have just been assigned here. Attendance is mandatory."
Dera winced. The last thing she needed was a group of cocky aces trying to prove how superior they were to X-Wing pilots. She saw the same reaction cross most of the other Sabers' faces. She sighed, the day had just gone from bad to worse.
Ten minutes later, seven of the ten space worthy pilots of Saber Squadron were gathered in the base's briefing room. Even though the seats were tiered in six rows, all of the Sabers sat in one section, away from the twenty six pilots who had been in the room already. Twelve of those pilots were in their own group. The other fourteen were also.
Dera watched as Commander Rlgah made her way up to the podium in the front of the room. She looked disapprovingly at the Sabers.
"Where are Valin, Alex, and Anakin?" Her voice carried such heavy disappointment and frustration that Dera had to look down. The Commander was counting on her squadron to give a good impression to the new pilots and they had let her down. Three of them were not there against a direct order.
At that moment, Valin and Alex raced panting into the room. Seeing the sharp look Ashta gave them, they hurried wordlessly to their seats. There were a few tense moments when Anakin didn't show up, then with a sigh, the Commander called her pilots to attention.
"We have two newly stationed squadrons here now. Razor Squadron," Ashta gestured to the fourteen, "is an A-Wing squadron. As you can see, there are fourteen instead of the customary twelve. If you want to know why, ask them."
Dera clenched her jaw as several Razors smirked. Two Dera recognized. They had been on the skyhook for about a week before the Yuuzhan Vong attack. The two had been a constant source of aggravation for the younger Sabers.
"Our other new squadron is made up of a mix of E-Wings and B-Wings. They call themselves Hiklar Squadron. I believe that is the Thackwaash word for..." she raised a questioning eyebrow at the single alien in that squadron.
The hairy alien, who was a Thackwaash, answered. "Perfect or superior. The word is the same in my language." Dera sneered at his self-assured, vain expression. "After all, we are the best."
Ashta gave the Thackwaash a withering glare. "Don't even start it. The last thing I need is for you three squadrons squabbling over who is the best. I don't want any bickering between anyone."
She got obedient nods from everyone, then continued. "You can be introduced at your own convenience, but right now you are all dismissed."
Conversation broke out among the three groups, but there was no conversation between them. Saber Squadron was the first squad to leave. Most wore expressions of disgust, several looked resigned.
Dera was one of the former. Along with most of the Sabers, she went to the mess hall to discuss this new turn of events. Six of them sat at single small table. A droid came to take their orders. It returned several minutes later with their drinks and deftly served them. It gathered credits from five of the pilots. When it came to Dera, she told the droid to put it on her tab.
"Dera Donos, correct?" The eternally polite droid didn't stop now.
Dera nodded. "That would be me." The droid acknowledged her and wished the pilots a good day, then rolled off.
After a few silent sips, discussion erupted.
"What do you think of our new companions?" Jaysaan was the first to break the silence.
"Do you really want to know?" Dera said disgustedly. "I don't even know 'em and I already don't like 'em."
"That how I feel about them too." Valin piped up. "Especially that Thackwaash."
"The hairy one? Talk about conceited." Zana said. "This invasion is worse than the Vong invasion."
"Or at lease as bad, anyways," Jaysaan said. He turned around as the mess hall door whooshed open. "Look who's here!"
Almost all of the two different squadrons came into the room, in their separate groups of course, and sat down at different tables. They stayed generally quite, confining their conversations to their own tables, and so lost the visual scrutiny of the Sabers.
Soon after though, four of the new pilots walked into the mess hall, talking and laughing among themselves. Two were well muscled men, the same two who Dera had recognized earlier. The third man was a scrawny, sick-looking middle-aged man. The last was a woman. She looked tough, but not too smart.
Dera caught the tail end of their loud-spoken conversation. "...and there's that one whose X-Wing blew up. What a stuck-up wuss. Typical Corellian, if you ask me. I think his name is Jarred."
Dera rose without thinking and stalked over to the newcomers. "What did you just say?" Her voice was low and menacing. The newcomers didn't miss her hostility.
"I said whoever-he-is is a typical Corellian. A stuck-up wuss." The sickly man said haughtily. "What are you going to do about it?"
A feral grin spread across Dera's face. This was her chance to let loose, to vent some of her frustrations. Her first punch sent the small man sprawling. For a second, everyone in the mess hall was quiet, stunned by the abrupt action. The next second the whole mess hall was one big brawl, with three different squadrons at the throats of the others.
Dera took on the group of four without hesitation. She launched herself at the woman. The woman quickly side-stepped to avoid Dera's lunge and, thinking she was out of danger for the moment, threw her fist back for a punch. Dera pivoted and blocked the big woman's punch with her open palm. She grasped the fist and kicked the woman in the stomach. Her air escaped with a whoosh, and she sank to the ground.
At that moment, one of the big men jumped her from behind. Dera lost her balance and fell on top of the woman, who grabbed her neck to hold her down. A well placed elbow in the ribs and Dera was loose. She jumped up and charged the man. Her shoulder hit him in the stomach and he went down. Dera kicked his viciously in the head, putting him momentarily out of the fight.
Dera looked around for the other big man, but he was nowhere in sight. She did see Jaysaan sitting at the bar. A huge grin was pasted across his face. He was yelling out advice over the roar of the fight. Dera couldn't help but smile. Her smile didn't last long, though. The scrawny man and the woman were back on their feet and looking for trouble.
Kale Messin looked up from his drink to watch Dera's rather sudden confrontation. He smiled, knowing what was coming. The other Sabers might not know, but Kale could see how discontent and worried Dera was. He could see that she was ready to cut loose at the slightest provocation. To be frank, he was too. The Vong attack and the resulting extra simm practice, and now the pressure from the new squadrons, was wearing his patience with the universe a little thin.
Kale thought the confrontation might end peacefully, but that hope evaporated when Dera threw a vicious punch that sent one man down to the floor. Kale looked on with a slight smile. He knew what was about to happen. The rest of the pilots in the mess hall were still for a single, stunned moment, then chaos erupted. Along with the other Sabers, he launched himself out of his chair and at the new-comers. People all around the room were doing the same.
Kale picked out a small male, he thought the man was probably an A-Wing pilot, and let a punch fly. His fist impacted squarely with the man's nose. There was a sharp crack, a cry of pain, then the man turned and ran to the bar holding a hand over his shattered nose. Kale shook his hand with a grin. The dull throbbing in it told him he hadn't been in a good street style fight for too long.
Apparently there were others that thought so too. A moment after Kale punched the A-Wing pilot, his legs were swept out from under him. Kale had just enough time to twist so his shoulder would take the impact before he hit. The hard durasteel floor sent a jolt of pain through his shoulder and snapped his head down to hit the floor. For a moment, his vision faded, but he forced the world back into focus. He started to get up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him. So, despite all of the fists flying around him, Kale sat on the floor untouched. After a minute or two, the dizziness passed and he was able to stand. His head was throbbing with an annoying rhythm. He quickly pushed his way over to the bar, taking several ill aimed kicks and hits on the way. When he finally made it over, he found Jaysaan sitting on one of the bar stools, shouting out warnings and ignored advice merrily.
When he noticed Kale, he looked over and said, "I yelled for you to watch out behind you, but I guess you didn't hear me." Jaysaan gave Kale a conspiratorial wink, then went back to yelling at the Sabers.
Kale shook his head, instantly regretted it, then laid his head down on the bar. A moment later, he jerked up as something brushed past him. He looked around and saw Jaysaan, Miah, and the bar stool all piled on the floor.
Miah jumped up and grinned at Jaysaan. "Thanks for breaking my fall." He looked back up at the mob, then said, "Gotta' go. Keep up the good work." Another grin and he was gone.
Kale laid his head back on the bar and tried to shut out the roar of the crowd.
Zana Dal'Kun had been quietly sipping an Alderaanian ale, focusing on ignore the rest of the universe, when she felt a wisp of anger through the Force. In a second it blossomed into full-fledged hate. A moment later, every Saber at the table and all the rest of the pilots in the room suddenly jumped up and joined in one big brawl. Zana, rather peeved by the Thackwaash's speech, did the same. Knowing what the consequences of using the Force in a fight like this, she shut herself off from it and fought without its insight and guidance.
Which is why she almost immediately took a punch in the nose.
Zana countered with a hard, kick. Her unseen combatant let out a surprised cry and Zana vaguely hear a thud she assumed to be the person falling. Zana didn't really care though. Her hand flew up to her face and she tenderly touched her nose. Stifling a cry of pain, she looked at the woman she had taken down. The woman was up now and smiling grimly at Zana. Zana raised an eyebrow.
"Want to try that again?"
Zana lashed out with another kick that sent the woman down again before she had a chance to move. Zana tossed her head and said down to the prostrate woman, "Amateur."
Zana stalked off to find the Thackwaash. She wanted a piece of him, too.
The big Thackwaash was the first Ayen took on. Unfortunately, the Thackwaash was a lot bigger and stronger the Ayen. The hairy alien picked him up and dropped him over a table. Ayen gasped as his mid-section was slammed into the side of it. He felt a sharp pang and knew he would be spending some more time in the bacta tanks.
Ayen pushed himself up and gasped for air. His breath came in short irregular wheezes. That didn't stop him though. Ayen stomped on the big aliens foot and then ran. There was an angry roar, then he heard pounding feet trailing him.
Ayen ducked behind a young man about his age and height and kept running. He glanced over his shoulder to see the young man get slugged by the Thackwaash. Ayen laughed, then looked around for someone he could really take on. He found that someone soon enough. A dark skinned pilot saw him and stalked towards the younger Saber. Ayen waited for the man to reach him.
The dark skinned pilot threw a roundhouse punch, confident he wouldn't miss. Ayen had other ideas though. He ducked and dodged into the crowd. He ran a few steps, then looked back over his shoulder to make sure the man was following him.
Sure enough, the man took the bait and followed. Ayen let him get close enough to throw another punch, then dodged and ran again. The man followed.
Again, Ayen let him catch up. This time though, when the man through a punch, Ayen ducked then gave the man a swift kick in the knee. The man went down hard, but wasn't hurt enough to stay down. He got back up and came after Ayen again. Ayen shrugged and met him head on. He didn't give the man time to put in a punch before he got in one of his own. Ayen punched him in the gut, hard. The man bent over double and Ayen shoved him to the ground. When Ayen looked up, he found himself staring straight into the angry face of the Commander.
"Uh-oh," he breathed.
"Uh-oh is right." Outrage seeped into her voice, sending a chill up Ayen's spine.
This was definitely not a good turn of events.
Valin Horn shoved another bruised man to the ground and jumped into the midst of another fight. Without looking to see who he was fighting, the young Jedi started punching anything that came within his reach. He heard a few colorful curses as some of the punches contacted with their targets. One of the voices was familiar. Valin looked up into the bloodied face of his best friend Alex.
His cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "Whoops. Sorry about that."
Alex glared at him, then laughed. "No prob. Just give these losers a few more punches like that and this fight'll be over in no time."
Valin laughed. "Alright. Let's give it to 'em."
Together, Valin and Alex took on the group of four now facing them. Valin jumped in and tackled one man. He grabbed the leg of another while he was going down and took that man down with him. The single woman of the group gave Valin a kick in the side. He jumped up, gasping for air.
Alex took advantage of the woman's distraction and kicked her legs out from under her. She fell heavily, her head hitting the floor with a thud. She didn't move for a moment, but her hands went to her head. Seeing that she wasn't hurt badly, Alex took on the last man. Valin joined him. Alex threw a punch in, but the man grabbed his hand. As hard as Alex tried, he couldn't get his hand free.
Valin took advantage and shoved Alex forward. Alex fell on top of the man and they both tumbled to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. Alex, who had landed on top, pounded the man's face. Valin had to pull Alex off of the man so he wouldn't be hurt too badly.
"Hey, Alex," Valin soothed. "Calm down a little. You don't want to be responsible for putting him out of commission. We need all the pilots we can get, no matter whose squadron they belong to."
Alex took a deep breath. "You're right. I'm sorry." Alex scanned the room, looking for more people to fight. Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked very worried.
"What is it?" Valin asked. "And why has everyone stopped fighting?" Valin was confused. A second ago, the room had been in chaos, and now everyone was standing still. Then Valin noticed the direction they were all looking in. He followed their gazes to the doorway.
"I think we are in trouble now," Valin said softly.
Alex nodded. "The Commander and your dad don't look too happy."
Valin's father eyes met his from across the room. His father's eyes took in the blood on Valin's shirt and his bloody knuckles. Valin was suddenly filled with shame. He couldn't meet his father's gaze. He had to look away.
"We are so dead," Alex stated needlessly.
Ashta-Mei Rlgah stepped into the mess hall with Corran Horn, ready for a drink to help her forget the day's troubles. She wasn't ready for the sight that greeted her eyes. She stopped in shock and just stared for a moment.
Everyone in the mess hall was one, big brawl. For the most part, she saw the members of the two new squadrons, but that was just because her people were outnumbered two to one. Ashta's stunned stupor was suddenly broken when Ayen Seltar and another man suddenly emerged in front of her. Ayen took the man down with a swift kick to the knees and a punch in the gut. Then he turned around to see Ashta's very angry face.
"Uh oh."
"Uh oh is right." Ashta said, her voice low and menacing. Ashta grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him over. "What's going on?"
"I...uh...I would really rather not say." Ayen winced as Ashta pinned him with a glare.
"I didn't ask if you would like to tell me what happened." Ashta's voice was cold and hard, even though she was trying to calm herself down. "I asked you to tell me. Now."
"Well...um...these guys came in and..." Ayen clamped his jaws shut and didn't say another word.
"Ayen," Ashta warned. "Don't do this."
She could see the regret and indecision in his eyes, but he still didn't say anything. Ashta put a hand on her forehead, then turned to Corran. His features were steeled and his gaze was directed across the room. By now, everyone had noticed them and most were standing still. Ashta followed Corran's eyes to the stiff form of Valin, his son. She could sense his anger and disappointment in his son, and also the sudden regret from Valin.
Then another presence caught her attention. The sense from this one was riddled with pain, but also full of self assurance. She turned to see Zana sitting on a bar stool. Her nose was bloodied and a bruise was starting to form around one eye. Zana sent her sister a content smile, knowing it would make Ashta even more angry. Ashta quickly moved her gaze to the other two Sabers at the bar. Kale had his head laid down on the bar and she sensed great pain from him. Not feeling the least bit sorry for him, she looked over at Jaysaan. His face was the epitome of innocence. He didn't have a mark on his body, so Ashta assumed he had been smart and stayed out of the fight.
"Okay," Ashta raised her voice, "I want to know what happened here, and I want to know now." Ashta was dimly aware of Corran standing stiffly beside her. A sense of disappointment radiated from him.
"I'm waiting." She kept her tone frosty and commanding.
For a few moments, no one spoke. Then, finally, one of the pilots of Razor Squadron cleared his throat. He was a scrawny little man who didn't look too healthy. He stepped forward, making his way towards Ashta. He was almost there when a blur of black and brown tackled the man from the side.
Dera had her knees planted in the man's stomach and was pounding his face and chest with her fists. Rage contorted her face.
No one moved. No one made a move to stop her. Most were too shocked, others didn't have a problem with what Dera was doing. Those pilots were mostly the Sabers. Finally, seeing no one was going to stop her, Corran jumped forward and tried to pry her away from the man. He grabbed her left arm as she pulled it back to hit the man again. Her reaction was totally unexpected. She twisted around and with her right fist punched Corran square in the face. Corran fell backwards in surprise.
Ashta let out a muttered curse and tackled Dera. The two women slid across the floor, tangled in a mass of arms, legs, and curses. Ashta took several kicks and hits before she was finally able to restrain Dera with Ayen's help. Ayen twisted Dera's arms behind her back and pulled her to her feet. Ashta picked herself up and stared dumbly at the still struggling Saber.
Dera looked around wildly, almost unseeing. Ashta took a quick step forward and slapped Dera with full force. "What do you think you're doing?"
Dera jerked back and her eyes snapped back into focus. She looked around in shock. Her wide eyes took in Corran, still on the floor with blood dripping from his nose and cheek, and the other man, whose face was a mass of purple and black bruises. Her eyes traveled around the room, and finally came to rest on Ashta. They took in the torn tunic and scratch marks on Ashta's shoulder, then the split lip and busted cheek. Then Dera met Ashta's hard stare.
I'm sorry, she mouthed, then let her muscled relax and forced her fists open.
Ayen, seeing she was calmed now, released her. Dera just stood unmoving, waiting for someone to tell her what to do. Her head was hung and her eyes were filled with something like uncertainty, but not with shame.
Ashta shook her head in frustration, then raised her voice to the still crowd. "All pilots report to your quarters and stay there until further notice, except for those who need medical attention. If you are one of those, report immediately to the infirmary." No one moved for a moment. "Now! And that's an order!"
The crowd started moving towards the door. Ayen grabbed Dera's arm and started leading her to the door, but Ashta stopped them.
"You two stay right here." Ashta left the two young Sabers standing in the midst of the milling mob of beings. Ashta pushed through the mass to find her sister, but when she reached the bar, Zana was gone.
Ashta reached through the Force to give her sister an angry mental summons. Get your worthless hide back here right now, sister. She received the impression of a cocky acknowledgement from Zana.
Ashta waited impatiently by the bar, and as the crowd finally thinned, Zana and Jaysaan appeared. Zana was pulling Jaysaan along behind her. Ashta suppressed a wince as the Force conveyed a jolt of pain up Ashta's nose and back through her head. She cut her Force link with her sister, knowing it came from Zana's obviously broken nose.
Ashta waited for them to reach her and motioned for Dera and Ayen to join her. In less than a minute, the four Sabers had reached Ashta.
"Please have a seat," Ashta was regaining her calm now, "and get yourself a drink."
Each of the Sabers got a light drink, even Ashta. She sipped her drink silently for a while, then set it down and watched her pilots. They chaffed under her steady gaze. She was about to speak, when Ayen suddenly erupted in a fit of coughing. Within seconds he was coughing up blood. Ashta jumped up and ran to him, along with the other three.
"What's wrong with him?" Jaysaan asked.
"I don't know," Ashta answered tensely. She slipped an arm around Ayen's waist as he almost pitched forward off his bar stool. She motioned for Jaysaan to do the same. "Help me move him to the floor."
Ayen was surprisingly light, so Ashta and Jaysaan had no trouble helping him move down to the floor. Ayen sat down heavily, still coughing up blood. He tried once to stop, but the attempt only made him cough worse.
Ashta pulled out her comm-link and contacted the base's medical infirmary. In moments, a blue haired medic and a repulsor-stretcher rushed through the door and over to Ayen. As the medic and Jaysaan were gently helping Ayen onto the stretcher, Ashta felt a flash of barely controlled hate and rage from Dera.
Ashta whirled, ready to take Dera down again if she snapped. It never happened though. To Ashta's relief, Dera was able to keep herself in check. Barely. Ashta worriedly studied Dera's trembling body. Dera must have felt Ashta's gaze because she sent a Ashta a shaky smile. It faded quickly though as her anger continued to grow. Finally, Dera stepped over to Ashta.
"Requesting permission to return to my quarters." Dera's voice was tight with more than anger. Worry was present, worry that she wouldn't be able to control herself much longer.
Control herself against what, Ashta wondered. What is bothering Dera so much? Ashta made a mental note to ask the twenty year old later.
"Permission granted." Ashta's reply was soft and thoughtful. "I will be calling on you soon though."
Dera gave Ashta a curt nod and quickly exited the mess hall. Ashta turned her attention to her injured pilot. He had been settled onto the stretcher and a breath mask had been fitted onto his now pallid face. Its regulated flow of air had put a quick halt to Ayen's hacking, but his breath came in quick, shallow gasps.
Then Ashta noticed how shaken the medic was. His eyes kept flicking over to the empty doorway, as if Dera would walk back in at any moment. Finally, he got a hold of himself and finished several adjustments to the instruments connected to stretcher. Ashta caught his eye and gave him a nod. He paused a moment, then left for the infirmary with Ayen in tow.
"What was that all about?" Zana asked nonchalantly.
Ashta whirled on her sister and gave her a hard glare. "I think you had better shut your mouth before you get into even more trouble."
Zana smiled. "Me? Get in trouble? For what?"
Ashta's eyes narrowed. "You are as of now confined to your quarters until further notice." Her voice was low and threatening.
Zana opened her mouth to protest, but stopped as she saw the look on the Commander's face. "Yes, ma'am." Zana turned and walked stiffly away.
Then Ashta noticed Jaysaan, who was trying to shrink unnoticed away from her. For the moment, she ignored him and instead went to the bar and tiredly sat down. She hated having to be the one to straighten out her group of invalids. For some reason, the Sabers had all the respect in the universe for her, but they couldn't seem to obey orders and stay out of trouble.
"Corellian whiskey, please."
The bartender, who saw what a sour mood she was in, hurried to get her drink. Ashta heard the slight rustle of cloth and glanced over to see Jaysaan sliding into the seat next to her. Her appreciation of him rose a notch. She had assumed he would leave while her attention was elsewhere to try to avoid being yelled at. Ashta looked down at the bar.
"As much as I hate to say it," he said quietly, "Dera threw the first punch."
Ashta blinked in surprise and looked up sharply at Jaysaan's downcast face. It must have rankled him to finger a fellow Saber as the cause of the whole mess. "I don't doubt it for a second. I would like to know why, though."
For a few moments, Jaysaan was silent. Finally, he spoke again, still not facing Ashta. "A couple of pilots, I'm not sure which ones, came in and started trash talking about Jarred. Dera jumped up and confronted them verbally. They insulted him again, so she punched one of them." Jaysaan shrugged. "You saw what happened after that."
Ashta nodded slowly. She hadn't thought any of the Sabers were looking for a fight, but she hadn't been sure what had started the whole ruckus. Now she knew, and she had no clue what to do about it. It was right and good that Dera defended Jarred, but it was not so good that she had started a fight. She had to be punished. The only problem with that was that Ashta would have probably done the same thing herself.
Ashta looked up at Jaysaan. "You know the Sabers. What do you think the best punishment would be?"
Jaysaan cocked an eyebrow at her. "How about no punishment?" His tone was hopeful, but his face belied his sarcasm.
"I have an idea," Ashta said slowly. "How does kitchen duty sound?"
Jaysaan shook his head vigorously. "No, I don't think that is a good idea."
Ashta uttered a short laugh. "You wouldn't. But it gets better." She paused dramatically. "I'm thinking kitchen duty, extra simm time, and no alcoholic beverages for a month."
Jaysaan coughed into his hand. "A month! You can't do this to us!"
"I can and I am. Get used to it." Ashta smiled at the disbelief on Jaysaan's face. She looked up as Corran came back into the mess hall. His sense was sour, but his face was composed. He looked rather comical with a swelled nose and a black eye.
Ashta glanced over at Jaysaan when she sensed him amusement. He was unable to hold back a snicker.
"I like your new look, sir."
Corran's eyes flashed and he bit back a sharp reply. "Don't you have anything else you need to be doing?"
Jaysaan looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope."
Corran glared at the twenty-eight year old. "Are you sure you don't have anything else to do? Now?"
Jaysaan shook his head again. "I don't think so."
"You better find something to do or I'll give you something to do," Corran threatened.
Jaysaan glanced at Ashta, who shrugged. "Yeah, now that I think about it, I do have something to do."
"I though so." Corran impatiently waited for Jaysaan to leave.
Ashta almost wanted him to stay. Somehow, she knew she wasn't going to like whatever Corran had to say to her. As the younger Saber's back receded, Corran turned to her.
"We really need to talk."
Valin gazed at the blurred form of Jarred floating in the bacta tank. A strange sense of unease filled him, but he wasn't sure why. Sure, he wasn't supposed to be here, all of the Sabers had been confined to their quarters, but that wasn't what was bothering him. As he watched Jarred, a sudden thought struck him.
I haven't seen Anakin for several hours. He wasn't in the mess hall with us, and no one seemed to know where he was before the briefing. Worry returned stronger than ever at that thought.
Valin noticed Jarred's eyes flutter open, so he pushed his thoughts back to the present. He pulled out his com and set it for the medic's com frequency. "He's awake now."
"I'll be right there," the medic responded. Moments later Kade Lihos entered the room. "Thanks for watching him for me. We just had an emergency call from the mess hall."
Valin looked up sharply.
Seeing his surprise, Lihos said, "One of the Sabers was injured badly. I believe it was one Ayen Seltar."
Valin drew a sharp breath. "What's wrong with him?"
"He had several broken ribs and a punctured lung. He's in surgery right now." Seeing Valin's worry, Lihos added, "Don't worry about it though. He'll be okay."
Valin nodded slowly. "I'm sure he will be." Silence reigned for a few moments, the Lihos inhaled loudly.
"Well, let's get Jarred out of the tank."
"Yeah, lets." Valin took up a position beside Kade to receive Jarred when he was pulled out of the bacta.
Lihos unfastened the opening in the grate on top of the tank and gave the air tube connected to Jarred's breath mask a gentle tug. Jarred weakly kicked his way up to the top of the tank. Kade grabbed him underneath the arms and pulled him out of the tank. Valin wrapped a towel around him and the two men help Jarred down the stairs and to a cot positioned by the wall. Once he was seated, Kade went back over to the tank and started a bacta cleansing process.
"How do you feel?" Valin asked.
Jarred let his eyelids sink shut. "Tired." With an obvious effort, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. "My legs hurt. So does my arm."
Valin nodded. "They will for a while. You were hurt pretty badly."
Jarred nodded. "Why did my lasers overload?"
Valin's mouth dropped, but he quickly recovered from his surprise. "Why do you think your lasers overloaded?"
Jarred gave Valin and thin lipped smile. "Normally when the power readings go off the chart and you see a huge ball of fire in front of you and pieces of your X-Wing go flying in all directions that tells you something."
That much talking seemed to exhaust Jarred. His face was pale and his head kept drooping towards his chest.
"You look tired," Valin quickly changed the subject. "You should probably get some sleep."
Jarred nodded, then let Valin help him lay back. Almost immediately, Jarred's eyes closed and the rising and falling of his chest slowed to a regular rhythm.
Valin looked up at Kade. His concern must have been obvious, because Lihos said, "He's a little weak right now. He'll get progressively better as the days go by, but it will take a while."
Valin nodded. "Yeah, I kinda' figured on that." He hesitated for a moment, then looked back over at Jarred. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go talk to the Commander."
Without waiting for Lihos to respond, Valin hurried out of the room.
Valin impatiently waited at the Commander's door. She wasn't answering his knocks, but he could sense her inside. He could feel how upset she was. "Commander," he called softly. "I really need to talk to you."
For several minutes he got no reply, then finally the door opened. "What is it?" The Commander tried to keep irritation from seeping into her voice, but she failed utterly.
Valin glanced down at the floor, mustered his courage, then finally spoke. "We just took Jarred out of the bacta tank."
"How is he?" Ashta's voice went from irritated, to just a little curious.
"He's sleeping right now, but I think he'll be okay." Valin studied her face for a moment. She seemed pleased, but irritation still showed through. "The doctor says he won't be able to participate in any exercises and definitely won't be able to fly for several weeks."
"Which means we have to find a replacement for him." Ashta opened her door and gestured for Valin to come in. "I have several choices already."
Valin hesitantly stepped in. He glanced around the room. It was sparsely furnished, but comfortably. There was a doorway into what he assumed to be her bedroom. Off on a far wall, Valin spotted a data terminal. Ashta went over to it.
"One of my prospects is employed here already as a Z-95 Headhunter pilot trainer. His name is N'dru Suhlak." Ashta paused. Valin thought it was to see his reaction to the name. Valin thought he recognized the name, but couldn't place it. Ashta pulled up a file on Suhlak.
"He has a good record and is reportedly a good pilot. More importantly, he is somewhat reliable." Ashta ran quickly through the rest of the file.
"He sounds like a good candidate. You said you had others?"
Ashta smiled. "You don't think much of him?"
Valin shrugged. "I'm not sure." He shook his head. Valin couldn't quite put his finger on the source of his unease about Suhlak.
Ashta watched him intently for a moment, then shrugged. "There are two others. One is a young Twi'lek male. He was with another unit of X-Wings until they had a face-off with the Vong. He and two others survived. His name is Ke'arn Ne'okra and he is a very good pilot."
"He must be if he survived a Yuuzhan Vong attack." Valin nodded approval. "Who is the other one?"
"You won't believe me if I tell you." Ashta shook her head. "I'm still not sure I believe it."
Valin smirked. "Try me."
"I think this candidate is probably the best pilot out of the three, but I'm not sure how he would work out with our group. His name is Mikaraska and he is a Noghri."
Valin's jaw dropped. "A Noghri? You have got to be kidding."
Ashta vigorously shook her head. "I'm not." She typed in a few rapid commands and pulled up the Noghri's file.
Valin scanned it quickly and found it to be authentic. "He has an excellent flight record." He looked up at Ashta. "I didn't know Noghri flew fighters."
"I didn't either, until a few days ago." Ashta posted her hands on her hips. "So what do you think?"
"I think the Noghri best fits what we need. Someone with Noghri reflexes would push us to be our best." Valin looked up to see Ashta's approving nod.
"That was my evaluation of the situation also. I wanted a second opinion." Ashta moved over to the small desk in one corner of the room. She thumbed on holocomm unit and punched in the station's command frequency. She waited in front of the New Republic insignia patiently until someone answered her call.
"Commander Rlgah," a young man answered finally, "How may I help you?"
"I would like an audience with the three pilots I asked about earlier." She added a commanding note to her voice. "As soon as possible."
"Two are on station if you would like to see them now."
Ashta-Mei nodded once. "Please. Send them to my office."
"Yes ma'am." The man's brisk voice answered back. "They will be there in a few minutes."
Ashta gave another nod, then cut the transmission. She glanced over at Valin, who stared steadily back at her. Then Ashta sighed. "I suppose you're wondering why I asked for your opinion, and why I am now asking you to be here when I meet with these two."
Valin grinned and nodded. "You read my mind."
"I've heard you could get a good reading on most people. I need pilots I can trust, so I want someone here who could help me figure out who those would be."
Valin wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded. He was saved from having to try to think up something to say by a buzz from Ashta's door panel. Ashta hurried over to the door and opened it. An aid stood in the door.
"The two pilot candidates are waiting in your office."
Ashta gave a quick nod. "I'll be right there." The aid left. Ashta gave Valin a glance. "Let's go."
Valin stood up and went to the door, but hesitated before following the Commander down the hall. A quick vision flashed before his eyes. His father, a stern expression on his face, walked towards him. His robes fluttered behind him and his lightsaber bounced on his thigh. Corran's black, knee-high boots shone blackly in the halls bright light. His graying hair was combed back and the angular features of his face were accented by his goatee.
"Valin!" Ashta waited impatiently a few meters down the hallway. "Stop day-dreaming and come on!"
Valin jumped. The vision vanished and Ashta stood where her father had been. "Yeah, let's go." Valin shook his head in confusion. Why would he see a vision like that, and why now? He didn't have time to ponder on it, though. Ashta had started off at a brisk pace and was not waiting up for him. He had to hurry to keep up with her. Valin finally settled in beside her, but every few steps he had to do a quick step forward to keep pace with her longer legs.
"What happened back there?" Ashta asked tentatively. "I felt a small draw on the Force."
Valin shook his head unhappily. "I'm not sure. I saw a vision of my father walking towards me. His expression was rather grim."
Ashta gave him a sidelong glance. "Any idea what it means?"
"Not a clue." Valin frowned. "Unless dad was trying to tell me he was coming to talk with me. In that case, let's get to your office fast."
Ashta smiled. "Afraid he has a lecture for you after your involvement in the fight?"
Valin nodded. "Oh yeah. I have really got it coming.� He shrugged. "But what could I do? My squadron mates were getting beat up."
Ashta shook her head. "Oh, no you don't. That's is definitely not the reason you joined in." Valin flinched under her probing gaze. "I think all of you were looking for chance to cut loose."
Valin shrugged again. "You might be right, but I think some of us cut loose and cut up more than others."
"You may be right." Ashta smiled. "But for now, let's just get to my office and interview the two pilots."
Chapter 5