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| - While the platoon enjoyed their midday meal, I was busy preparing for the latest twist in their training. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Admiral Dodonna, Captain Kathla,” I said after exchanging salutes and entering the small wardroom where the two senior Fleet officers were taking their own break. “Glad to finally meet the woman who shot up my engine room in person,” Piers Kathla replied, tossing me a lopsided grin. “How goes the training regimen for our boarding party?” Admiral Dodonna asked, her expression neutral but her aura prickling with the barest hint of nervousness. “It's too soon to tell, ma'am,” I replied. “That's actually why I'm here. With your permission, I'd like to borrow Vibrosword's engineering staff.” The two officers exchanged glances, underpinning the sense of uncertainty that lingered about them. “What did you have in mind, Captain Reyolé?” Kathla inquired. Opening my hands to encompass the room as though it were the whole ship, I began to explain why I needed their help. The warship's captain seemed dubious, but the admiral was intrigued by my ideas and what I had in mind. “Basically, it comes down to this,” I concluded. “They need experience fighting an unknown quantity, someone they've never fought alongside before, which is why I can't simply pit each squad against one another if they are to learn correctly.” “I assume you will want to take basic precautions?” Admiral Dodonna asked. “Of course,” I replied. “Stun blasters only, and I'd like to have the ion engines taken offline during the exercise.” “We don't need them while traveling at lightspeed,” Captain Kathla agreed. “But if something were to go wrong and the hyperdrive conked out, we'd be dead in space for at least two hours in order to perform a cold start of the sublight drives. Still, they don't like to be shot, either with stun fire or fully-powered blasters.” “I understand the risks,” I said with a nod. “Fortunately, the hyperdrive motivators shouldn't be in any danger.” “Very well, you have our permission,” Admiral Dodonna agreed, nodding her approval. “Good luck.” — — — Waiting with the hastily-assembled crewers of Vibrosword's engineering section, which consisted of fifty-seven officers and enlisted personnel all armed with low-powered stun blasters and wearing black armbands over their uniforms, I observed the platoon's progress over a small holocam feed. I smiled as they made their way through the empty corridors and control rooms; they were doing their best to incorporate what I'd told them earlier. None of them were staying still, and they were all taking every precaution; even after they'd cleared the entire section, they began to make preparations for a mobile defense. I decided not to give them the time they would need. “Alright, let's hit it!” I yelled to the engineers and techs as I stood up and unlimbered my lightsaber. “CHARGE!” Making an almighty racket, the crewers, with myself in the lead, ran pell-mell down the main companionway, spilling into the central control spaces and firing their weapons with wild abandon. While I deflected simulated laser blasts, the engineering staff rained blue stun bolts onto the defenders, and soon the fight descended into a free-for-all melee. Fully a quarter of the platoon went down in the initial rush of their hastily-organized defense, including Lieutenant Ibratu'na, and even though they were now leaderless, they began to fight back with the savagery of cornered taopari. Everyone knew that this wasn't a real attack, but an outside observer wouldn't have known it to see how they fought. Eventually, the platoon forced an opening for themselves, conducting an impressive fighting retreat back to their muster room with a swarm of angry engineers in hot pursuit. I'd managed to stay “alive” throughout, and eventually called a halt to the exercise once the remaining members of the platoon who were still combat effective had sealed themselves inside. “Alright, we're all done,” I said over the internal comm. “Engineers, dead or alive, please report back to your posts. Lieutenant Ibratu'na, please rouse your 'casualties' and report back here.” The corridors reverberated with the groans of the “dead” and “dying” as they pulled themselves together and did as they were instructed. When the platoon was fully assembled, I gave them a few minutes to catch their collective breaths before beginning the post-exercise debrief. “An interesting twist,” I began at last, once again pacing before them. “But it's something you'll have to expect when we go into battle. “Two things stood out about how you conducted this exercise,” I said after a lengthy pause, continuing my back-and-forth strides. “First, you all seemed to be a little more sure of yourselves, a bit more on the ball, even after you'd figured out that things weren't as they appeared. I like that. It shows you're paying attention and that you want to do better.” I glanced at the three squad leaders in turn. “Second, you conducted yourselves fairly well in the wake of such a surprise counterattack. Even after Lieutenant Ibratu'na's untimely demise, you took my words to heart and 'advanced' in the other direction when it became clear that you could not hold against me and the mob of engineers. However, I very nearly came close to cutting off your arm, Private Soskins; you should go and see the corpsman when we're done here.” The black-haired, pale-skinned soldier ruefully nursed a small, angry weal near his elbow where my blade had accidentally brushed it, slitting his uniform. He nodded his acknowledgment. “Yes, ma'am, I understand” he said by way of apology. “Don't worry about it,” I said sympathetically. “It was as much my fault as anything else. Ladies and gentlemen, the important thing here is to remember the third rule when taking on Force-users: never close to melee range.” I stopped pacing, mimed holding a blaster rifle to my chest, and backed away from the assembled troops. “Advance away from one if you have to, but don't get within reach of a lightsaber unless you're feeling particularly brave—or suicidal. If, however, any of you just happen to have one of those new cortosis-woven vibroswords hidden away somewhere, please let me know.” That got a laugh, which eased some of the tension that remained. “Now, let's talk numbers,” I said, motioning for the platoon to take seats. Once they had, I continued the breakdown. “Including myself, the forty of you faced off against fifty-eight crewers, mostly engineers and technicians, who only have basic combat training but an intimate knowledge of the territory being contested. In the course of the battle, fourteen of you were 'killed' and a further ten were 'severely wounded' during both the initial counterattack and your retreat. Folks, that's about sixty percent casualties, and against the kind of foe you are most likely to engage. If I hadn't joined the engineers, the numbers might have been more favorable, but when we go into battle, I might not always be there to help out against an enemy Force-user. One who, mind you, will not hold back, who will in fact use their entire repertoire of powers and maneuvers against you.” To drive this last point home, I relaxed into the Force, pulling an empty chair into the air toward me with great speed. As it closed in on my head, I whipped out my lightsaber, activated it, and cut the incoming furniture into a dozen pieces, which clattered against the bulkhead behind me. “This is the kind of thing a Sith Lord is likely to do to any one of you, should they catch you alone,” I said. “Any questions?” There were none. Everyone was either too tired from the brawl they'd just come out of, or else too shocked after realizing just what could happen to them if they ran afoul of one of Darth Revan's Force-using lackeys. I decided at that point that they had suffered enough for one day, and after collecting the three squads' infiltration plans for review, I dismissed them early. This wasn't really an act of generosity on my part, but acquiescing to the simple fact that I still needed to tie up a few loose ends in regards to the battle plan. We were nearly two days into the trip to Ord Mantell, and the Army troopers had packed a lot of learning into a very short time frame. Once they had left for their barracks, I held Ibratu'na back, so that we were again alone. “Your impressions, Lieutenant?” I asked him solemnly. “As you said, Captain, an interesting twist,” he replied, his lekku twitching. “I can see why you wanted us to face such a foe.” “Interdictor cruisers outnumber us nearly a hundred to one in terms of troops, Lieutenant,” I reminded him. “Their crew compliment is in excess of five thousand, and they're likely to be trained just as well as Vibrosword's engineering section in terms of combat. But this isn't just about numbers.” “Thankfully so,” Ibratu'na replied with a doleful look. “After all, I 'died' in that rather unruly contest.” “At least your death was only simulated,” I said, cocking a mischievous brow in his direction. “I...don't quite understand,” he said, utterly nonplussed. “I thought you had received a copy of my service record when I took overall command of your platoon,” I said, brow raised. Before the Twi'lek could reply, however, the hatchway opened and a Bothan entered the room. “Ah, Mr. Dan'kre, glad you could make it.” “Lieutenant Ibratu'na, Captain Reyolé,” the Intelligence officer said, nodding as his brow fur rippled and his ears twitched slightly. “I watched your performance in the engine spaces, very impressive.” “We were just discussing that,” I said, smiling at the Army officer's discomfiture. “Then I take it you've told our friend about your prior experience with nonlife?” Dan'kre asked, a mischievous grin on his face. The Bothan, as a senior naval lieutenant, outranked the Twi'lek, and the latter knew it. His expression and aura spoke of expectations of losing much of his dignity at our hands, but that wasn't my intention. “Actually, we were just getting to that,” I said, still smiling. “Would you care to inform him, Silas?” “It would be my honor,” he said, giving a mock-bow before turning to face Ibratu'na. “You see, then-Commander Reyolé here led the infiltration team on Onderon prior to Revan's—excuse me, 'Darth' Revan's—effort to liberate that world from the Mandalorians. Her team succeeded in bringing down the defense grid once the main force had landed, but she was killed during the effort. Our former friends, now bent on killing us all, had decided to incur the quite significant expense of literally resurrecting her. The necessary tech has been around for quite some time, and they decided to use it. So here she is, now a Jedi Knight as well as a captain in the Marine Corps.” Ibratu'na looked from me to the Bothan and back again, almost certain that he was being wound up for some punchline to come. “I did receive your service record, Captain,” he finally managed to say. “Parts of it were redacted, however, and I deemed it best not to inquire further. Obviously, this fact was one such thing that was kept from me.” “Don't worry about it,” I said gently. “In fact, you're taking this much more rationally than Lieutenant Dan'kre's initial reaction, back when he'd been an ensign.” The Bothan's eyes went wide for the meanest flicker of a moment, but I caught him at it and held him fast with a smirk. “Oh, here we go,” he said, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, Silas, you survived, didn't you?” “Barely, Captain, just barely,” he replied with a sigh. “In any case, Lieutenant, whatever the captain tells you about squaring off with Dark Jedi, I can tell you, she knows what she's talking about. But back to why we're here.” “You've got the codes and spikes worked out?” I asked eagerly. “Yes,” Dan'kre replied. “I cannot guarantee that they will work on the first try, but if they don't, I can tweak them on the fly. Then we'll have at least partial access to the flagship's environmental controls, internal security, and possibly the hangar bay as well. Best case scenario: we'll be able to seal off entire companies of Sith troops in their barracks, lock down the hangar bay to protect our lander and other possible escape vehicles, even flood critical areas with exhaust from the ion engines or main reactor to kill off enemy crew. I'm banking on at least one of these measures working straightaway, but we may be able to do even more once we're aboard.” “Excellent work, Silas,” I said, patting his shoulder gratefully, then turning to Ibratu'na. “Lieutenant, I want you to keep these possibilities in mind, but don't tell the platoon. I want them operating on the assumption that they'll be met with waves of hostile troops and crewers.” “What, and have no one to appreciate my genius engineering and slicing skills?” Dan'kre mock-protested. “Honestly, Captain, you take all the fun out of life.” “Keep it up, Silas, and I'll have you working on fixing their refreshers while we're there,” I replied with a predatory grin. “Your pardon, Captain, Lieutenant, but the Twi'lek is lost,” a slightly irritated Ibratu'na put in. “My apologies, Lieutenant Dan'kre and I go back a ways,” I said. “For this mission, he's my hole card, and I want him kept in the interference field for as long as possible.” “I understand,” he replied with a nod, his left lek spasming in a gesture that might have been a resigned shrug. “Am I to conclude, then, that Lieutenant Dan'kre will be accompanying us on the mission?” “Yes,” I replied. “But only as an expert slicer; he'll primarily stay with me. If anything happens to us and the other Jedi, or if we're cut off from your people, command of the mission will fall to you. Hopefully, it won't come to that.” “Very well, Captain,” Ibratu'na replied, his expression softening slightly. “With your permission, I will take my leave.” “By all means,” I said, standing up. “I'll see you and your people at 0800 hours tomorrow.” “Rather an irritable one, isn't he?” Dan'kre asked once the Twi'lek had left. “Your respective command styles seem to be quite different.” “He's alright,” I said with a sigh. “I put him and his people through the wringer yesterday, and I don't think he's quite forgiven me for it. Getting 'killed' in today's performance, as you call it, didn't help matters, and I'm betting he doesn't care for Intelligence types tagging along on missions. But he doesn't know you like I do.” “How very reassuring,” the Bothan replied with a smirk. “By the way, I ran into Master Kavar earlier today. He was hoping to get a word in with you at some point.” “Wonderful,” I sighed. “I guess there's no getting out of this one, even if I've still got work to do.” “You are a senior officer, can't you just delegate?” “Sure I can,” I replied, a grin replacing my resigned look as I got up once again and picked up a trio of datacards from the nearby podium. “Here, take a look at these and see if they're worth anything. Each is an infiltration plan for our target vessel; if you spot something that can be improved upon, please don't hesitate to alter them.” The Bothan got up and accepted the pads as though he were receiving a prestigious award. “I humbly take on this assignment in hopes that it will impress my boss and help her to not feel so bad about herself,” he said, bowing deeply. “Dan'kre, I'm warning you...” — — — The Jedi Master Kavar, whom I had met on Coruscant when the High Council, of which he was a part, had Knighted me, turned out to be lurking in a tiny office just aft of the warship's bridge. I could sense the concern in his aura even before I had reached the command deck, and this made me feel somehow self-conscious. All of our prior meetings had always been amongst other beings, Jedi and military officers alike; for him to call me in for a private chat could mean any number of things, few of them good. Still, he was the senior representative of the Republic on this mission, and were he to tell me to kiss a Gamorrean, I'd have asked him which cheek. “Hello, Laera,” he said mildly as I entered the tiny alcove where he'd sequestered himself for our little chat. “I trust you had little trouble finding me.” “Of course not, Master Kavar,” I said, giving him a small bow before joining him in a meditative posture on the deck. “What can I do for you?” “Padawan Bastila Shan came by earlier,” the senior Jedi replied, his tone still amiable. “I understand that you met with her and her team, and that things got a little heated.” “I apologize for that, Master,” I said with a generous sigh. “It's just that—” “There is no need to apologize,” Kavar interrupted gently, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. “Both of you were right—and both of you were wrong. As it happens, I'm glad that you were able to come to a resolution, and that everyone is now operating on the same frequency.” “As you say, Master,” I replied, unsure whether to thank the man or resent him. “I do have one concern, however.” “By all means, please proceed.” “When I first met Bastila Shan, it was just after the liberation of Iridonia,” I began, trying to sound charitable—as a fellow Jedi, she deserved that much. “She seemed well-adjusted for a woman of her age, maybe even a bit more mature than most, humble and generous. But when I met with her strike team this morning, she...well, she wasn't the person I remember from two years ago.” I paused to let Kavar respond, but he seemed to sense that there was more to be said. However, as I tried to come up with an explanation, a sudden need to justify myself burst forth. “I'm no saint, Master, and I admit it. From the moment the Dantooine enclave council invited me to join the Order, I've been resistant to the Jedi ways, to the point of being downright verbally combative on occasion. I'm fairly certain that the peacetime Order wouldn't have accepted me, but I don't resent that fact; in truth, I'm glad to be here, and grateful for everything that I've learned and the many opportunities to serve the Republic. I've always striven to improve myself, despite all the complications. In the face of everything that has happened to me. I've done my best to be a good Jedi, a good person, even if things didn't work out the way I'd hoped.” I finally ran out of words, and the small space echoed with the silence that fell. “You've kept this to yourself for a long time,” Kavar said, his tone neutral, his aura unreadable. It was not a question. I nodded, the preceding commentary having drained me mentally. “Yes, Master. But there's a war on, and my well-being is secondary to the survival of the Republic and the Jedi Order.” The Jedi Master, saying nothing, looked me straight in the face as though evaluating me on multiple levels. Closing my eyes, I let him into my mind, feeling his gentle, reassuring thoughts glide through my own. This lasted for quite some time until, finally, he tapped my shoulder and I blinked. “It was a mistake to ask you to join this mission without the proper support,” he stated finally, with a warm, fatherly tone to his voice and countenance. “The Order both overestimated and underestimated your abilities, and for these errors, I apologize on behalf of the Council. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Laera. Not for how you have conducted your training of Admiral Dodonna's troops, not for your exchange with Bastila, and not for your perceived inadequacies as a Jedi. You have, quite frankly, been through hell, and the fact that you still strive to serve the light within yourself, as well as the galaxy, is simply astounding.” Despite the words of encouragement that the Jedi Master was offering, which were as sincere as any I'd ever heard or felt in my life, a tear formed in my left eye. Hot and wet, it slid down my nose and dripped into my lap, and it was soon followed by more. I had never before received such wholehearted praise from a Jedi Master; Vrook had always seemed so unwillingly impressed with my accomplishments during training. Kavar's honesty seemed to flip a circuit within my psyche. The weight of billions of stars seemed to fall on my shoulders and, finally, after having put up so much resistance over such a long time, I broke down completely. My body was wracked with sobs as I wept openly, the dam of control I'd steadily built up over the last four years of turmoil finally bursting. Kavar did nothing, and for that I was grateful. I knew that in this dark, confined space, no one would, or could, hear my cries. I had lost so much, gained so much more, but it had all come so fast, so suddenly, and in the midst of a fight for the very soul of civilization. I cried my heart out in that room for what seemed like a lifetime, pouring out my anguish, my despair, and my helplessness in the face of such an unfair universe. A universe that had conspired to rob me of my proper death, that had forced this second chance upon me, and had insisted that I be embroiled in yet another galaxywide conflict. Finally, I cried myself out, there were no more tears to give, the reservoir of emotional pain was drained dry. “Bastila will realize her true self in time,” Kavar said, after what seemed like an eternity of silence. I wiped my raw, bloodshot eyes, sniffled a bit, and looked up to face the Jedi Master. “Her abilities are powerful, and she sometimes lets them get to her head. It is a trap that all too many of us fall into, yet most find their way out in due course. You, I feel, are one such Jedi, Laera.” “Thank you, Master,” I said thickly, unsure what to do next. “I...I don't want to fall, not again.” “You never fell, Laera,” Kavar said reassuringly. “You simply had a lot on your mind. And your well-being is just as important as the welfare of the galaxy.” Completely and utterly exhausted, I trudged back to my quarters and threw myself onto my rack without even bothering to shuck my uniform. I deliberately avoided any corridors through which the warship's crew happened to be walking, but this turned out to be more difficult than it should have been. My connection to the Force was fuzzy and severely diminished in the wake of the emotional release, and as sleep overtook me, I vaguely wondered what the morning would bring.
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