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| - I rose the next morning at 1000 hours—an hour prior to our scheduled rendezvous—feeling fit and fresh for the first time in nearly a Standard week. The odd sort of “second sight” that had served me well while I had been healing was now gone, but that didn't bother me; I could still sense the auras of nearby beings without conscious effort. After enjoying a long, hot sanisteam, relaxing into the vapors as they cleansed my body, I donned a freshly-laundered set of BDUs and took a jog around the ship to get my blood flowing. As my chronometer beeped a five-minute warning, I made my way to the bridge to find Admiral Dodonna and Master Kavar standing just behind the forward viewport and Lieutenant Dan'kre sitting at the communications terminal alongside Vibrosword's comm officer. The fleet commander and Jedi Master had their hands clasped at their backs and were looking out into the mottled tunnel of hyperspace. “Admiral, Master,” I said lightly, nodding to each in turn as I joined them. “Captain Reyolé, it's good to see you well once again,” the older woman replied warmly. “Master Kavar and I received your report on the boarding party, it was most reassuring.” “Thank you, ma'am,” I said with a grateful nod. “They're ready, no doubt about it.” “One minute to reversion, Admiral,” the navigation officer piped up. “So ends our long jump,” said Captain Kathla as he strode toward our small gathering. “Sensors, get ready to pick up bearings on the rest of the fleet when we decant.” “Aye-aye, sir,” the sensor officer replied. It was at that point that I remembered that I'd hoped to meet the other Jedi in the boarding party in mock duels, but that idea had gone out the airlock when I'd taken ill. Still, now that I was back up to full health, maybe at least one or two of them could spare the time until we jumped again. The telltale vibrations of a ship dropping back to realspace drew my attention to the viewport just in time to watch as the colorful vista shattered into thousands of beams of light that swiftly shrank back into the pinpricks of stars. “We're here,” I said absentmindedly. “Hyperdrive is secure, ion engines are coming online,” the helmsman reported. “I've got a green board, Admiral.” “Admiral, the rest of the fleet is decanting,” the sensor officer added. “Drift is nominal, we're right where we're supposed to be.” “Good work, everyone,” Admiral Dodonna replied, turning to face the bridge crew. “Navigation, input the coordinates for the jump to Ord Mantell. Helm, get us on the appropriate jump trajectory. Comms, check in with the rest of the fleet and inform me of their status. Chief, let's get the engineers and repair crews to work checking the ship over.” The bridge echoed with a chorus of “aye-ayes” from the various bridge officers and the chief engineer. Master Kavar, who until then had stood motionless, nodded his approval. “Admiral, the fleet's responding,” the comm officer said after a few moments of silence. “Most ships report overall operational readiness, but Zapdash and Quickdraw are reporting minor trouble with their hyperdrive induction coils and alluvial dampers. Their captains insist that they will be fit to jump with us, however.” “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Admiral Dodonna replied, unsurprised at this turn of events. I wasn't, either; since both vessels were Foray-class frigates, they weren't really meant to go on such lengthy journeys while traveling at lightspeed. “Get us a secure uplink to the HoloNet, I want updates on the galactic situation within the hour.” “Aye-aye, ma'am,” Lieutenant Dan'kre replied. For the next several minutes, those present on the bridge concentrated on their assignments, leaving only the beeps and twitters of computer terminals and instrument panels to break the silence. I began to extend my awareness out to the rest of the fleet, briefly taking in the collective senses of the fifteen other ships' crews. Everyone's thoughts seemed to be buzzing with expectation, which wasn't surprising given the situation. Here we all were, literally in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a rendezvous that might not come. Nine days is a long time to be cut off from the rest of the galaxy, and most knew that a lot could happen in that kind of timeframe. I walked over to where Silas was working with the comm officer, another Bothan, whose black and tawny fur picked up highlights from the bridge deck's subdued lighting. The two were combining their efforts to swiftly achieve the desired secure channel while I looked on, watching in ignorance as they tapped keys with graceful ease. They uttered a short dialogue in their own language, which I couldn't comprehend, but the intelligence officer seemed to bristle at the other man's last remark. By the time I made my way back to where Master Kavar stood, twenty minutes had passed since the reversion to realspace. “Battleaxe is late,” the Jedi Master remarked quietly, so that only the admiral and I could hear. “The ship was supposed to have been here when we arrived.” “How do you want to play this, Master Kavar?” Admiral Dodonna inquired, her voice just as low. “We can't do much of anything until the ships we have are ready to go,” he replied. “Indeed, they didn't have as far to go as we did,” the fleet commander agreed. “We're running out of time. If Battleaxe doesn't show within the next ten hours, we'll go ahead without her.” “Agreed.” The two went back to their vigil at the forward viewport, where I joined them for several minutes of terse silence. Without the Interdictor cruiser's gravity well projectors, we wouldn't be able to trap the Sith force nearly as effectively, and the lander would be terribly vulnerable without the warship's three squadrons of Aurek fighters to provide escort. After another ten minutes, as the crew began to grow slightly nervous, I decided to head aft and seek out the other Jedi, perhaps getting one of them into a practice bout while we waited. I had just made it to the portside hatchway when the sensor officer nearly shouted. “Admiral, I have two ships exiting hyperspace off the starboard bow!” “Get me a classification, now!” the fleet commander ordered sharply. “All ships to battle stations!” “I'm getting a coded message via tightbeam transmission from the lead ship,” Silas added. “It's Battleaxe, and they're bringing new friends!” “Get me a comm feed to Captain Tethet as quickly as you can!” “Secure channel open, Admiral,” the comm officer replied. “Admiral Dodonna, sorry we're late,” a voice said over the intercom in accented Basic. “We ran into some old friends who want back into the fold, and I've convinced them to join us.” “Admiral, I've got a feed on the second ship,” the sensor officer said in hushed tones. “Interdictor-class, transponder identifies her as Wrangler, last seen at Foerost three years ago!” “Captain Tethet, I'm glad you were able to make it,” the fleet commander said into the comm station. “Please give my regards to our prodigal sons and daughters, and ask them if they would be kind enough to send a representative to meet with me aboard Vibrosword.” “Absolutely, Admiral, we're heading into formation.” The comm channel closed with an audible bleep. This unexpected news caused a few of the crewers to whistle in appreciation, or else wring their hands nervously. While defections to the Sith cause had been rampant ever since the first days of the war, few had ever heard of anyone coming back to the Republic, and fewer still were those that did so without some secret agenda. Redemption seemed to be in short supply these days, but even those that were likely false positives had to be given some degree of leeway, or else no one would try it. “Master Kavar, Captain Reyolé, I would be grateful for your presence when I meet with Wrangler's captain,” Admiral Dodonna said, the surprise still evident in her eyes and her sense in the Force. “We would be happy to assist,” the Jedi Master answered, and I nodded in agreement, at the same time focusing my abilities in Sense Aura toward the newcomers. “They're legitimate, but terrified,” I said after half a minute's silent meditation. “I can't get much more precise than that, Admiral, other than the fact that their crew compliment is well below spec, but I'd wager ten years' pay they want to help.” — — — The three of us walked briskly toward the warship's hangar deck to meet the incoming shuttle, with myself in the lead and Master Kavar to Admiral Dodonna's left. As we approached the last turn toward our destination, my comlink bleeped for attention. Pulling it out, I flicked it on. “Captain Reyolé here.” “Captain, it's Lieutenant Dan'kre,” the Bothan said, his voice distorted but obviously nervous. “I've got some new information on our recent arrival.” I turned up the volume so that the other two could hear. “You're speaking to all three of us now, Mr. Dan'kre,” I replied. “What have you got?” “It's about Wrangler,” the intelligence officer began, more calmly than he had to be feeling. “While she was indeed last seen at Foerost, she wasn't one of the warships stolen by the Sith, she was one of the attackers.” That brought Admiral Dodonna and Master Kavar up short, but I wanted to know more. “What can you tell me about the vessel's prior service with the Republic Navy?” I asked. “She came off the ways at Corellia about half a year after the conflict began,” the Bothan rattled off. “After shakedown, she was assigned to Admiral Saul Karath's fleet, guarding Coruscant against a suspected Mandalorian raid, which turned out to be a ruse to capture Zayne Carrick, if memory serves, though the details are surprisingly well-classified. Wrangler continued to serve under the overall command of Karath for some time, until Revan and Malak took over the war effort. Assigned to their main fleet, she participated in the battles over Onderon, Dxun, Althir, and Malachor V. After that...well, we know what happened.” “Good work, Mr. Dan'kre,” I replied. “Thanks for the information.” “I just hope this doesn't turn out to be some kind of misdirection play. Dan'kre out.” I clicked the comlink off and slipped it back into my pocket, then turned to face the admiral and the Jedi Master. “We should still hear them out, Admiral,” I said in a low whisper as several engineers strode past. “They were well within my range of detection, and I could feel their earnestness, despite their fear of reprisal.” “In any case, if they try anything rash, the fleet is still at battle stations,” Master Kavar added. “Very well, we'll proceed as intended,” Admiral Dodonna agreed, and we turned the last bend toward the hatchways. The starboard portal slid open as I touched the actuator, and we entered the docking bay, which was now quite full with the addition of the shuttle that had arrived from Wrangler. Hands on our lightsabers, the Jedi Master and I led the way toward the shuttle as a pair of humans made their way gingerly down the egress ramp once it had lowered fully. The first was a blond, recently-scarred man of about thirty-five Standard years, whose dark, intelligent eyes darted from point to point, taking in his surroundings as quickly as possible. His companion, about five years his junior and with dark red hair, wore a patch over his left eye, with the remaining blue one keeping a steady, watchful eye on the older man. Both of them wore Sith uniforms, black knee-boots, light gray trousers and medium-dark gray tunics with thin black belts and sashes; however, I recognized their empty holsters as a gesture of cooperation in a potentially volatile situation. Admiral Dodonna strode forward to meet the blond officer, who took her proffered hand. “Welcome aboard,” she began. “And who might you be?” “Lieutenant Commander Josef Farfax,” the senior man replied. “This is Lieutenant Secar Dunnigal, my second.” “Admiral Forn Dodonna,” the fleet commander introduced herself. “This is Jedi Master Kavar, and Captain Laera Reyolé.” Farfax looked momentarily taken aback at the mention of my name, and I instantly recognized why. “The Laera Reyolé?” he asked tentatively, turning to face me. “Unofficial channels said that you'd died on Onderon, fighting the Mandalorians...” “That was indeed the case,” I replied gently, hoping to extend a branch of trust with this information. It wasn't classified, technically-speaking, but it wasn't something that the military had wanted to spread around. “I died, and our mutual friends had me brought back.” “Admiral, with your permission, perhaps we could continue this someplace more private,” Lieutenant Dunnigal suggested, his head lowered deferentially. “Of course," she said, gesturing up the corridor. "Right this way.” — — — Sequestered in the same nearby briefing room where I'd learned about our overall mission, the five of us had taken seats save for Master Kavar, who kept vigil at the head of the room. I sat next to Admiral Dodonna, who sat opposite Commander Farfax, with Lieutenant Dunnigal across from me. “It's been about three Standard weeks since the incident that sparked our desire to return,” Farfax began once we were all comfortable, his voice betraying his sheer physical and mental exhaustion. “Xaset Terep had been assigned as our Jedi liaison during the last six months of the war with the Mandalorians and, after Malachor, the ship went with Revan's fleet to the Unknown Regions. Then Revan and Malak called all the surviving Jedi to their flagship and left; when it came back, they brought the darkness with them. Every Jedi aboard had come back as a Sith, and the vast majority of the officers and crew fell under their sway. Terep told us that all weaknesses were to be purged, and punishments suddenly became much more brutal, even for minor infractions. Just before the attack on Foerost, Terep executed our captain and took command himself; we were never told why, but many of us suspected that he had been unwilling to attack the Republic in such a way.” He paused to mop his brow, as he'd begun to sweat profusely. I sensed that his words came at great cost, and I attempted to buoy his spirits through the Force. “With Terep in command, we fought against the Republic many times. But he wasn't a very good tactician or leader, and most of our battles resulted in long refits at various shipyards under Sith control. Finally, three weeks ago, we ran into a patrol of two Hammerhead-class cruisers and a squadron of Aurek fighters. Terep immediately ordered us to launch fighters and attack, but then something very disturbing happened. We all began to feel incredibly sluggish, and our Sith interceptors started to fall out of formation as the Aureks picked them off in droves. The Hammerheads began to bracket Wrangler with turbolaser fire, and despite everything Terep could think of, we were getting pounded hard. He realized that we couldn't win, but as soon as we had retreated, he lost his nerve and began lashing out at officers and crew alike, killing us indiscriminately. Dunnigal and I finally managed to convince a company of troopers, who had served with us during the Mandalorian war, to take on Terep and kill him, if only to save our own skins.” Farfax pointed to his scar. “I earned this, and Dunnigal lost his eye, in the fight that followed, but we were able to overcome the insane Dark Jedi.” “What happened next?” Admiral Dodonna asked, her voice very soft, almost motherly. “The crew was divided on what to do after that,” Farfax continued. “With Terep gone we were free, in a manner of speaking, from his and Darth Revan's manipulations. A cadre of officers attempted to wrest command for themselves, but they couldn't decide upon who would be captain, and they ended up destroying one another in a series of violent altercations and murders. While this was going on, I began remembering things, things I'd not thought about since before we'd even met Terep, and I realized where I should have stayed.” The two ex-Sith officers exchanged glances, and Dunnigal took over the explanation. “Commander Farfax confided this to me, and I agreed with him that we should never have gone off with Revan after Malachor. We, along with the troopers who had survived the fight against Terep, began to bring the rest of the crew around to our way of thinking, using the failed takeover as an example of what following the Sith would ultimately lead us to—violent self-destruction. As the senior surviving officers, the crew chose to cast their lot with us...I used to be the sensor officer, while Commander Farfax had been the off-watch executive officer. We decided that our best course of action would be to plant ourselves on the Republic side of the border, along the Corellian Trade Spine, hoping to interdict a force of Republic warships to surrender to. That's when Battleaxe showed up, and we recognized her as having escaped the massacre at Jaga's Cluster. Captain Tethet was doubtful at first when we contacted him, but with our weapons powered down and not enough gunners to man them in any case, he eventually believed our story. When he asked us to accompany him here, we readily agreed, though he hadn't provided an explanation, only coordinates.” Like with his compatriot, this explanation seemed to severely tax the lieutenant, and he too broke out in a cold sweat. “Redemption is a long and difficult road,” Master Kavar said, breaking the silence that had fallen after several minutes of it. “You have taken the first steps, and while I believe your stories and trust in your intentions, there is still much to be resolved. We cannot afford to delay our mission for very long; we depart in less than nine hours. If you would stand with us, we must make sure you are ready to engage in battle by that time.” “And if we are unable?” Commander Farfax asked, deep concern evident in his voice and expression. “If, by the time we are to depart, you do not consider yourselves battle-ready, set course for Ord Cestus and remain there for the time being,” Kavar explained. “We can provide you with passcodes to authenticate your arrival, and our forces there will see to your continued repair and reprovisioning.” “Battleaxe should be able to provide replacement crewers, as well as repair teams and extra supplies,” Admiral Dodonna continued. “In addition, the rest of the fleet stands ready to provide whatever else you may need; the Force knows how much difference an extra ship-of-the-line will make in what we are about to do.” “How many interceptors do you have left?” I asked. “Twenty-two are ready to fly,” Lieutenant Dunnigal supplied dully. “We've got another ten in various states of disrepair. Pilots, on the other hand...we only have eleven fit for duty.” Much to everyone's surprise, I began smiling as an idea hit me. “Admiral, with your permission, I'd like to coordinate with Lieutenant Dan'kre and whatever engineers are available, as well as Wrangler's people, on a possible use for their fighters.” “What did you have in mind, Captain?” the fleet commander inquired, arching a brow at me. “They can barely mount a squadron's worth of ships, and in the heat of battle, they would be dangerously exposed to friendly fire.” “What I'm thinking of, Admiral, won't require pilots,” I said, smiling still more broadly. “I'm talking about drones, packed with baradium explosives. It's a tactic as old as space warfare itself, once called kamikaze by a long-dead civilization...” — — — While Master Kavar and Admiral Dodonna continued to liaise with Commander Farfax after having given their approval to my plan, Lieutenant Dunnigal and I left the room only to find that Lieutenant Dan'kre had taken it upon himself to meet us. “I hope I'm not intruding, Captain, but I wanted to meet the representatives from Wrangler for myself,” he explained, nodding to the lieutenant in Sith uniform standing next to me. “It's alright, Lieutenant,” I replied, returning his salute. “I was actually just about to call for you. This is Lieutenant Dunnigal, their second-in-command.” “A pleasure,” the Bothan nodded, accepting the other man's hand. “And what would you have of me, Captain?” “Wrangler still has a number of spaceworthy Sith interceptors aboard,” I explained as we entered the hangar bay and strode up the shuttecraft's ramp. “I was hoping you'd be willing to help us to convert them to bomb-drones for use in the upcoming battle.” “That shouldn't be a problem,” Silas replied with a nod. “The controls on their fighters are quite simple, it wouldn't take very long to rig up a set of full slave circuitry for the lot of them, given the right number of people and proper equipment.” “And to authenticate their story...” I said in the barest hint of a whisper, so that only the Bothan could hear. All precautions had to be observed, after all, and who knew what additional intelligence the officer could pull from the defecting warship's systems? The intelligence officer's ears immediately perked up as he realized what I had just asked him to do.
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