"Worthless! Absolutely worthless! What sort of shit does a man have to go through to buy a descent set of maintenance droids these days? It’s all you bloody Imperials’ faults! Nothing like this would be allowed on the market if the New Republic were still in power!"

In a fit of absolute rage, Kurnok flung the singed parts of the tiny droid down at the feet of the storm trooper who stood before him on the landing pad. His normally pallid cheeks were flushed pink from anger, the veins on his neck standing out brilliantly. He pointed one clawed finger at the wreckage and shouted, "What will my clients say if one of my workers just explodes while repairing something as essential as the power modulator on their ships! I’ll tell you one thing, after about two incidents like that, I’ll be out of a job. Does that mean anything to you bucket-heads? Out of a job! As in no income! Then who will you get to repair your bloody tankers and TIE fighters? A gundart?!"

Watching from the Georgina, Freigo and Jinks exchanged curious glances. The Zoitian drake grinned and ruffled his wings, then commented in a low, growling tone, "Well, he certainly has… spirit?"

"And guts," Jinks remarked with a smile, though concern was shadowing the expression. "One of these days, he’s going to fly off at the wrong storm trooper and end up with a smoldering hole in his gut from a blaster lance."

"Hm," growled in agreement.

To both of them, however, it didn’t appear as if that fate was going to befall the Twi’lek anytime soon. As one of the storm troopers advanced forward to retrieve the parts, Kurnok stepped up to meet him and threw his hands up, snarling in challenge, "And just what do you think you’re doing, mister? That pile of useless rubbish is my pile of useless rubbish, and I can sure has hell find a better use for it than any of you could!"

"I apologize, sir—"

"Apologize, do you?" Kurnok went on, eyes blazing. "Well, why not try and help me gain back a bit of my business by sending me a new shipment of droids? And decent ones this time!" He flung a hand at them dismissively, snarling, "Get out of my sight," before calling out to a lumbering brown and black Wookie, "Raku, get those parts for me." The Wookie gave a roar of assent and stooped down to pick the parts up, pausing only to bare his fangs at the storm troopers and give a menacing growl, which sent them all scampering back a few paces.

Kurnok left the landing pad without looking back at the Georgina. Even though Jinks knew that their relationship was over—would always be over—it stung just a little more than he thought it should have. Kurnok did not even raise a hand to bid him farewell, did not even tilt his head in acknowledgment…

Their parts in each others lives were over. Jinks would have to accept that, or the pain would never subside.

The protocol droid that he and Freigo had picked up on Tatooine waddled out onto the boarding ramp and called out, "Master Jinks, our communications systems are back online, and you have an incoming message from the Cameroon. I think they’re near Kashyyk planetary space, sir."

Jinks and Freigo exchanged curious glances, the former saying incredulously, "Rusty?"

"That’s his ship," Freigo replied dubiously, and the two of them hurried inside.

While Freigo took care of flight preparations and warmed up the engine, Jinks accepted the transmission from the Cameroon. He smiled wryly; that was Rusty’s ship all right, beaten up old lady that she was.

A holographic image flickered to life before him. Decked out in his Jedi robes, rust-colored red hair tied back into a tail at the nape of his neck, the young man smiled.

Jinks ran a hand through his unruly tresses and gave a laugh of both astonishment and joy. "Well if it ain’t Wraiths and it ain’t Siths, then it’s got to be Jedi! How’re you doing, Rusty?"

"Better than I was last time we spoke," Rusty responded fondly. His voice was tinged with slight anxiety. "Jinks, we need to meet up. I’ve… one moment." He temporarily disappeared from the screen, only to come back moments later, still troubled. "I’ve got some information that may be of use to you."

"Oh?" Jinks inquired with a raise of his eyebrows. "Wouldn’t have anything to do with Zydirnon or Zoit, would it?"

"As a matter of fact…" Rusty began, and a slow smile curved up the corners of his lips. "Well, you’ll just have to meet up with me and find out."

"You name the place, and we’ll be there," Jinks replied.

"Endor then," Rusty stated. "Out of harm’s way, of no interest to the Second Imperium, or the Alliance, I suppose. Shall I see you there?"

"Definitely."

Moments later, he peeked in on Freigo and said cheerfully, "Destination: Endor, my friend. And don’t forget to go easy on the light speed jumps; we don’t know how well this new hyper drive engine works yet."

"And you doubt Kurnok’s handiwork already?" Freigo replied doubtfully.

"Not his," Jinks corrected, "Just his droids’."

"Hm," Freigo mused, then sighed and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Can’t disagree with you there, my friend."

Dropping out of light speed, Jinks could see the Cameroon as she floated, somewhat desolately, in space. Leaning against the console, he scratched his chin and muttered to Freigo beside him, "Looks pretty lifeless."

"Perhaps it is a trap?" Freigo suggested.

"Set up by who?" Jinks retorted. "The Second Imperium? Yeah, they want to fry me up and serve me to their beloved Emperor on a silver platter, but they wouldn’t go out of their way to snare me." He took hold of the yoke and eased closer. "Rusty’s probably just had a little bit of a power surge."

"If he’s even alive," said the drake.

"Will you knock it off?" Jinks snarled and glared out the front view port, staring at where Rusty’s ship floated so inanimate.

D40 peered into the cockpit and said, "Master Jinks, you have an emergency transmission coming through—"

"Wire it through to the main computer, Coppertone," Jinks replied, "and don’t break anything."

"Yes, sir," D40 said, his tone somewhat tired, yet patient.

Coming closer, Jinks could see laser lance burns as they smoldered on the ship’s surface. There was an ominous sort of feel to the Cameroon’s black exhaust ports, cool from nonuse. The little droid that reminded Jinks so much of his old astero unit was charred and evidently destroyed beyond repair, his optical sensors no longer even functioning to record data.

"There was a space battle here," Freigo murmured, his words Jinks’ unvoiced thoughts. "And I get the feeling that the debris floating just past here was—"

"The Stingsun¸ I’ve already figured that much out," Jinks replied with a morose sigh. Miserably, he ran one hand through his hair and bit his lip to keep his emotions in check. "Vistu and Rusty were practically inseparable, even to the end."

A light in the cockpit of the Cameroon caught Jinks’ attention. A hologram was flickering there before a cloaked figure, the scene itself barely visible to Jinks thanks to the severe charring of the view port. He squinted and flew a little closer, then startled as a matching hologram flickered into existence on his receiver.

It was Rusty. Half of his youthful face was concealed behind a bloodied white bandage, his other eye bruised from a fight. He leaned against the console heavily, suggesting his fatigue. However, in contrast to his condition, his voice was as strong as ever. "You missed the action, my friend," he said with a wry smile.

"Sithspit, Rusty," Jinks breathed and reached out with one hand to touch the holographic image of his friend, "I thought you were dead."

"Unless you can think of a way to get me out of this old girl, I will be in a few minutes. There’s a fuel leak and a fire somewhere in here; I can’t hardly breathe over the smoke."

"Shit," Jinks whispered, then looked to Freigo. The drake regarded him solemnly, his wings folded against his back. He looked back to Rusty and wrung his wrists. "Do any of your controls work?"

"I’m afraid to turn them on," Rusty admitted with a worried glance back at the rest of his ship. "Last time I tried, there was this massive explosion back there—" he gestured over his shoulder, "—and now I don’t have any artillery power or shields."

"I think the Cameroon has flown her last flight anyway, Rusty," Jinks said with sympathy. "Do you think you could make it through Endor’s atmosphere?"

"I… could try, I suppose," Rusty answered apprehensively. "But my copilot took a nasty fall and can’t fly with me." He paused, then said with a tremor in his voice that had not been there moments ago, "Can… can you see Vistu’s ship?"

He doesn’t know, Jinks realized and exchanged another glance with Freigo. This time, the drake could not meet his eyes, averting his gaze to the view port where he stared at the remains of the Stingsun. Jinks could feel Rusty’s holographic eyes locked onto his, hoping, pleading for an answer… perhaps the answer he wanted so badly.

He answered honestly. "Vistu’s dead, Rusty," he whispered and closed his eyes to the closed-mouth cry that left his friend and brother-in-arm’s lips. "There’s nothing left of the Stingsun, other than a few floating pieces of—"

"Stop it!" Rusty shouted and clamped his hands over his ears. "I don’t want to hear anymore."

"Starting landing procedures, Jinks," Freigo interrupted and took hold of the yoke. "Rusty, shall we expect to see you on solid ground?"

The question seemed to pull the young Jedi apprentice out of his despondency, even if for only a moment. He was silent for a moment or two, then nodded and answered shakily, "Y-yes. I’ll see you both when I land." His voice strengthening, he went on, "And then, Jinks, we shall discuss what Master Vistu and I have uncovered for you."