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| - ...to Pelenora, Ari thought to herself as the words—and their meaning—washed over her. Spoken in a quiet, gentle yet firm tone, she found that the Starborne One's words and voice filled her up like warm brewine. Her skin puckered, all the ultra-fine hairs on her body standing up as the enormity of what her new teacher was telling her hit home, evoking feelings that she hadn't felt in decades. The last person to speak to her like that had been...very special indeed. Unbidden, a sense of confused nostalgia stole over Ari as she cast her thoughts backward almost a full century. She had still been an illuminated learner when she had first met Ual T'Vorix. A newly-anointed lighter, she had been searching for her first apprentice at the chapter house in the republic of Seren'dai where Ari had been conducting her training. Though Ual had eventually been paired with a more suitable student, she and Ari had shared a certain...affection...during her month-long visit. Ual had been every bit the proverbial eldyun, a woman who was wise beyond her years. Patient, caring and kind, she had always been ready with a comforting word, a bit of sage advice, or sometimes a gentle nudge back onto the path of light. She had also been possessed of great skill in the lighter's arts with an ever-observant eye, keen mental aptitudes, and a way of drawing needed information out of people in the gentlest of fashion. Though liaisons between members of the Order had never been forbidden, it was highly irregular for a lighter and a learner to become involved, even for a short time. Back in those days, Ari had been the classical example of a bookworm. When she wasn't training for her future role as a lighter, she could always be found in the library deeply absorbed in the latest scientific journals, keeping up-to-date on various new technologies and the future T'loruk mission, or else on the sims, practicing her flying for when she would have eventually applied to the space program. She had also been a socially-awkward girl, often avoiding learner gatherings in order to mitigate the possibility of embarrassing herself. Meeting Ual and getting to know her had changed all of that, bringing her out of her shell in the way only one's first melding could. It had been a glorious, mind-expanding experience, and for the first time Ari had felt what it truly meant to be Sa'ari. Ari realized, with no small amount of consternation, that Laera Reyolé had much in common with her first lover. They both shone brightly within the Blue...in the Force...and though this Human had been through much that Ari did not yet understand, she nevertheless still possessed that thrilling combination of strength, wisdom and charisma that had drawn her to Ual. Her cheeks flushed with the thought of how her earlier grousing could have been seen as a proposition amongst her own kind; indeed, were Laera a Sa'ari, the two would probably be retreating to her quarters or somewhere else private and secluded. “Ari, are you still there?” The question, posed as a soft reminder of the task at hand, brought Ari's wandering train of thought to a crashing halt. This nearly caused her to lose focus on the blade she held as she let out a guilt-ridden gasp, nearly slicing into the deck. Panic momentarily flooded through her as she wondered how much of her musings the Jedi Knight had picked up on. “N-nothing...Master.” Laera's expression of confusion shifted to one of polite curiosity. “I suppose that if you want, you could call me that,” she said, seemingly oblivious to Ari's discomfiture. “Though what I could teach you beyond use of the lightsaber is limited at best.” “I...” Ari began, then deactivated her blade once more. “Perhaps we can continue this later?” “So soon?” Laera asked, and Ari could feel the hurt in her voice. “You seemed so close just a moment ago...” Ari stared at her weapon, examining it once more through the Force's eyes. She felt the current contained within the diatum power cell, how it flowed through the circuitry that connected it to the crystal housing, how that energy created the shaft of light that, focused through the finest lens, could cut through just about any material in the universe, and how the magnetic field kept the blade from eating back through the emitter housing and frying the weapon—and her hand. She realized that her musings about Ual were only a distraction now. Comparing the two beings and contemplating such implications was a disservice to her new teacher, for how could she ever live up to that moment? How would such a thing even work with another species? And besides, was she not already bonded to Silas? Ari recalled an old learner's aphorism: Wandering thoughts are buhjes on the breeze, their dancing lights a distraction for the student. She exhaled, took in another deep breath, then blew that one out, punctuating the release of air with yet another reactivation of her lightsaber. “That's more like it,” Laera said approvingly as Ari brought her blade back up. “With a clear mind, your focus is unimpeded.” — — — Six hours later, Ari had begun to hit her stride. Laera thought that she knew, at least in part, why it was so difficult for the Sa'ari to pick up on the technique. She felt badly for not having taken it into account, but then it had been Ari's choice to commence with the training and she had not asked for any special considerations. That said, the heavier gravity and poorer oxygen levels on most worlds and starships had to be taking its toll on her student, who was used to a world of open spaces with more invigorating air. But it hadn't been until they had departed the Venture that Ari had begun to show the signs of flagging commitment. Laera didn't doubt that the lighter was serious, not now, but those long moments she had spent navel-gazing were puzzling at best. Laera couldn't help but feel as though some personal issues had been explored, confronted, and seemingly overcome, but she knew better than to ask Ari what they were about. At this point it didn't even matter, as the woman was finally beginning to feel for herself what it meant to control a lightsaber. “Good, very good,” Laera said as she and Ari finished mirroring a set of complicated and interlaced series of maneuvers. Because the Sa'ari were predominately left-handed, Laera had decided that instead of taking her through the standard training velocities that she had learned as an apprentice, she would lead Ari in a different type of exercise of an ever-increasing difficulty. The object of the game was for the point of Ari's blade to trace the same imaginary lines that Laera's made, matching speed and keeping pace with each twist and turn, adapting to every change in the pattern of light being woven through the main hold. “You are now well on your way to mastering the blade.” Ari replied by deactivating her weapon, reattaching it to her belt as she inclined her head respectfully. “Thank you, Master.” Laera also closed down her lightsaber and put it away, taking a seat at the main table and inviting Ari to join her. “I'd advise you to meditate on what you have learned. It's as much a part of the Jedi tradition as it is for your people; when one has spent a day in active learning, one must engage in reflection. And after having given it further though, I don't think it's necessary for you to call me 'master.'” At that point, Silas poked his head out of the cockpit hallway, his face contorted with worry. “Is it safe?” “Drop the act, love,” Laera said mock-sternly. “The ship was never in any danger.” “I wouldn't exactly say that,” he retorted. “Anyway, I thought I might let you ladies know that we're coming up on our first course change in about a half-hour. And I hate going into battle on an empty stomach.” Laera's own belly emitted a huge growl, and she grimaced as she regarded Silas and Ari. “Very well, some lunch would be appreciated,” she said, dropping all pretense at seriousness. “I don't like dying on an empty stomach, either.” Silas shot them a wink as he made his way to the Challenger's galley, having long since adopted the role of head chef. As he worked, the smells of cooking meat and various other things wafted through the ventilation system, drawing Ooryl and Asyr out from wherever they had been for the past few hours. Ari twiddled her thumbs as she waited, then finally gave in and turned to Laera, for the moment the only other person in the immediate vicinity. “I have a question, if I may...” “Of course,” Laera nodded. “I am curious...why did you tell Booster Terrik and everyone else that you were only investing three hundred million? We all know that your true fortune eclipses that figure as the Venture eclipsed our ship.” Laera shrugged half-heartedly. “It seemed like the wisest course of action. In retrospect, it's rather obvious; when dealing with an unknown quantity, it is never good to reveal the totality of your strength. Besides, going into the billions would probably have given the poor man a heart attack.” “I sensed his reaction when you named your figure,” Ari nodded in agreement. “He was...dubious...until you gave him the proof he needed.” “Look at it this way: according to my reading, three hundred million credits would actually pay for two fully-armed and -operational Star Destroyers, complete with their full compliments of starfighters, bombers, landing craft, ground vehicles, and whatnot. The crews, on the other hand...” “I think I understand,” Ari replied, gazing at the table for a moment. “It would seem to me, based on what limited knowledge I have accrued, that one of your credits is about equal to one point three t'gol. Such a price would get you a stout bottle of cola, provided you lived in a smaller city or town.” Laera smiled. “What is cola?” Ari laughed, and Laera could sense how the expression of mirth lightened her thoughts. “If we ever return to T'lessia, I shall have to show you some time—but here is our meal.” “Lunch is served!” Silas called, the sound of his voice reverberating throughout the freighter. “Get it while its hot, and before the situation gets hot!” With that, he dished out five portions of meat and vegetables. Laera didn't recognize the color or texture of the meat, however, and looked dubiously up at her lover. He, Asyr, Ooryl and Ari, however, didn't hesitate to tuck in. “What?” Silas asked innocently. “What is this?” Laera replied, poking at her food. “Gizka steak, of course!” Silas retorted before biting down on a big forkful, swallowing it appreciatively. “Don't tell me you've never had it?” “Gizka...? But...they're pest animals!” “Not these,” Silas said, grinning. “While you were otherwise occupied, I took the liberty of donating Challenger's entire food supply to a large number of refugees on Black Level, then had it replaced with up-to-date rations as well as the latest taste sensations. Apparently, in the time we've been gone the gizka went from being a pestilence to something of a delicacy.” There was a pause as Laera glared at Silas. “Hey, don't look at me, it's the Trandoshans' fault!” Asyr and Ooryl chortled into their food, exchanged a glance, then resumed eating, keeping their looks determinately neutral. Laera, having caught their senses and expressions, sighed audibly then raised a small morsel experimentally to her lips. It smelled delicious, bathed in a sauce that Silas had no doubt mixed himself, and looked to have the consistency of game fowl. Finally she ate it, then immediately wondered why she had ever doubted the man she loved. He knew her palate like he knew his own... “That's my girl,” Silas said playfully. As Laera took another bite the soft, rhythmic beeping of the proximity alert began to sound. Ooryl and Asyr, having cleaned their plates already, rose and left for the cockpit. “Five minutes out,” Silas said for them. “We'd better hurry.” When they arrived in the Nardradi system, they soon realized that they needn't have rushed things. Save for the six fairly unremarkable, uninhabited and little-exploited planets, and the intrastellar traffic that was to be expected from a small number of independent mining corporations, there was nothing to even look up and take notice of the heavily-armed freighter that had arrived between orbits five and six. Laera, using her own abilities within the Force, could detect nothing of immediate note. “Sensor scan in progress,” Ooryl murmured as he tapped at his console, his voice carried through the ship's intercom. “We are clear to proceed.” “Bringing her around for the next jump,” Asyr added. “In five...four...” The leap into hyperspace was a short one, half an hour in length and designed to bring them onto a well-known (amongst the fringe, at an rate) smugglers' route in and out of Ojoster sector. This first leg would terminate near a planetless white dwarf that was labeled on official Galactic Alliance star charts as Ojos-223A, but to the route's regulars it was known as Silver Point. During the short hop Laera and Silas left the main hold to run another systems diagnostic and power-up sequence on their respective laser cannon turrets. The Bothan had opted to take the side turret, deferring to Laera and letting her take the dorsal mount. “Top turret is primed and ready to go,” she announced over the comm after having plugged in her headset. “Portside turret is clear,” Silas added. “Let's have a count.” “Fifty-three seconds to reversion,” Asyr replied. “All forward-firing weapons are primed and ready to go.” “Let's not get overly excited, people,” Laera admonished gently. “I doubt they have any interdiction ships.” Through the small transparisteel viewport at the front of her turret, Laera watched as the usual process of reversion into realspace unfolded. As the familiar lines shrank back into the glowing dots of distant celestial bodies, one remained bright and luminous in the sky before them. Laera had not had much occasion to observe stars at the relatively close distance at which Challenger approached, but Silver Point was easily the most striking. Even as her eyes took in the starscape, however, the Force reached out and fixed her with a plea for attention. “Full speed ahead,” she ordered, taking in the ethereal scene. “Looks like we've hit paydirt!” “Ooryl hasn't spotted...” the Gand started to say, but then fell silent. “Disregard. He is picking up something approximately two hundred thousand kilometers on a bearing of three-one-six point zero four two. The readings are fuzzy, solar radiation is interfering with our sensors.” Laera's mind reached out to touch Ari's, as she sat strapped into a seat in the main hold, looking for confirmation. It wasn't long in coming; a vicious dogfight was indeed taking place on Ooryl's bearing at roughly that distance. Extending her awareness in the indicated direction, she got a sense of what the combatants were: a convoy of three medium-sized ships were being swarmed by at least a full squadron of starfighters, backstopped by what felt like a corvette-sized vessel. “Asyr, take us in,” Laera instructed. “Put us on a sunward trajectory toward Ooryl's spot, hopefully we can catch them on their blind side.” “As ordered, Captain,” she replied with professional aplomb. “Time to target is ten minutes.” Grateful for their acceptance of her orders, Laera redoubled her efforts to mentally map out the battleplane ahead and psyche herself up for the action to come. Though it was true that she and Silas were trained gunners, it had been ages since their last qualification exam. The ex-Rogues in the cockpit had, she knew, experienced more space combat than either of them ever would in both their lifetimes. But Laera also had the Force, and as she opened herself to it, she felt the distress emanating from the small cluster of ships as they fought to defend themselves, the eagerness and dark aggression of the raiders as they swarmed their targets—with a start, Laera realized that her initial estimates were significantly off. They were in fact up against at least two squadrons of snubfighters, which were flying point for a type of small cruiser that she had never seen before. This was going to get a little rough. If, however, they could lend a hand without getting themselves blown up in the process, Laera was willing to do so. But she couldn't expect her crew to follow blindly, either. “Listen up, people,” she said into the intercom. “I've run the sensations and we're looking at twenty-plus enemy snubs and a cruiser. They're doing a pretty good job of picking over their targets; the freighters' defensive fire isn't enough to keep them at bay for much longer. If any of you want to back out now, we can continue as we were and leave this one alone.” “I never liked pirates,” Silas intoned sagely, though Laera could sense that he too was feeling slightly nervous—just like old times. “They're always angry and they smell, plus they never tip the wait staff.” “I say we give it one pass and see what develops,” Asyr suggested. “If we catch them with their pants around their ankles as you suggest, I say we stay and give them a real fight. If not, we've got more than enough juice to lose them and bolt.” “I concur,” the Gand added solemnly. “The mists are masking our approach most efficaciously.” “We have a saying on my world: in for an uet, in for a puan,” Ari said calmly. “In for a meter, in for a kilometer, as you would understand it.” “Time to target now three minutes,” Asyr advised. “Getting preliminary data on the cruiser...yep, she's a Marauder-class.” Laera took the Bothan pilot's tone to mean that this type wasn't that big of a deal, at least in terms of fleet units. “Can you get us on a line to hit the cruiser's rear quarter?” “Already on it. Lock your guns to full-forward, I've got their triggers. If this ship's like any other in private or piratical service, we should be able to bring down their shields with concentrated fire from all weapons. Maybe even knock out an engine.” Laera nodded to herself, then pulled the appropriate lever. Since she had not rotated it or elevated the guns, the turret didn't move. However. a satisfying thunk! assured her that the indicated operation had been carried out. “Clear.” “Clear here too,” Silas added. “Locked and cocked.” “Weapons free, contact in one minute...” Laera let go of the trigger yoke and closed her eyes, extending her awareness outward once more. She made contact again with Ari, whose senses also brushed the willing minds of the others, forming a bridge between them. Dimly at first, she felt Asyr as her hands clutched the flight controls, Ooryl as he concentrated on his consoles, Silas as he admired the view from his own station, and Ari herself. Ari, who seemed to feel somehow... Confusion threatened to upset her concentration as Laera plowed past the peculiar pondering of the Sa'ari as she did her best to keep the tenuous mental network running. This was not the time for chasing loose thoughts, not when so many lives were at stake. Focus, Laera admonished Ari gently, punctuating the feeling with an image of a beam of light running through a crystal. Use your instincts, leave everything else behind... And then the fight was upon them. Laera's eyes snapped open as the glare of laser cannonfire cast a reddish hue about her station. The thudding of the guns continued for several seconds, then the panorama of stars beyond the viewport did a corkscrew as the Challenger streaked through the engagement zone at top speed. Asyr and Ooryl kept up the fire, taking snapshots at passing enemy craft as they guided the armed freighter through the melee. Laera thought that she caught sight of at least one explosion, which contrasted satisfyingly with the pulsing sensations of surprise, anguish and then death that shot through the Force as her tactic played out to its logical conclusion. “Hot pass complete!” Asyr reported, a sort of manic glee in her voice. “The Marauder has lost its rear and upper shields, their power core is fluctuating!” “What about the fighters?” Silas asked. “Three vaped, two damanged,” Ooryl replied. “They're Uglies—X-TIEs—the melding of an X-wing's fuselage to the wings and engines of a TIE Fighter.” Asyr's voice was bubbly. “They've got no chance against us! I had forgotten how much fun this could—” The Challenger bounced violently, emitting a loud pang! as something impacted the ventral shields. “Report!” Laera demanded. “Releasing gun turrets,” Asyr replied, her tone having done a one-eighty. “Fighters on our six, one got in a good solid hit with a proton torpedo but our shields are holding...for now.” Laera's gun clunked again, and she grabbed the control yoke. Spinning the turret about as she concentrated her senses on their pursuers, she picked out a target and fired. The first few shots bracketed the Ugly, then she adjusted her aim. Another burst perforated its thin shields, nailing the fighter just aft of its cockpit. The ship detonated, sending a cloud of gas and debris flaring into fleeting existence, dissipating as the vanquished craft's wingmate entered her hemisphere of fire. Laera hesitated, anticipating the evasive maneuvers that Asyr sent the Challenger through, then sending off another burst as the freighter leveled out. “Gotcha,” Laera muttered as her crimson bolts tracked into her second target, which met a similar fate to her first. “And one for the Bothan,” Silas added over the intercom. “We going in for another run, Captain?” Laera considered their situation for a moment. She knew that she didn't have to remind Asyr of just how serious this was; their foe had done a much better job of that and anything more would just be berating her for the sake of it. A quick pulsing of her awareness showed that the raiders' targets, emboldened by their timely intervention, were now focusing their weapons on the Marauder cruiser. The Uglies, meanwhile, were giving Challenger a wide berth, falling back to try and shepherd the warship onto an outbound vector. The battle was effectively won, but continuing the pursuit felt like the right thing to do. Military doctrine agreed with her, in that it was never wise to allow an enemy to leave the field when you have the means to pursue and eliminate them as a future threat. Laera's reply, issued in a low growl, was short and to the point. “Run'em down.” Five minutes later, it was all over, the pirate fleet falling to the combined firepower of Challenger and the three freighters of the convoy. As the fireball that marked the final moments of the cruiser faded to nothingness the lead ship, which looked to be a bulk freighter of fairly recent make, hailed them. Now that the battle was finished the entire crew, save for Ari who remained in the hold, was present in the cockpit to receive the communication. “Freighter Challenger, this is Captain Yolen of the Loose Change. You have our thanks for the save, who might I ask decided to come to our rescue?” “Loose Change, Captain Reyolé here,” Laera replied, smiling at the gratefulness that was apparent in the other being's speech. “We're friends of the Terriks who happened to be in the neighborhood. Can we be of any further assistance?” “We've taken a beating, but we're okay for the most part,” Yolen replied, his voice brightening with recognition. “We were en route to Taris with a load of mixed goods when we got jumped here; they came out of the Point like a pack of mad neks as soon as we reverted. You say Booster sent you to bail us out?” “Not precisely, no,” Laera said with a verbal shrug. “We were actually looking for whatever gang has been raiding shipping in this sector, working on a tip-off from Mirax and the old man.” “Wish I could help you out, Captain,” the man replied, and Laera got the distinct impression that he meant every syllable. “All I know is they don't like to talk, don't like to chase, and don't like to take prisoners. We had hoped to avoid trouble by organizing this convoy, but obviously it wasn't big enough.” “Seems like you could use an escort,” Laera suggested. “Mind if we tag along?” “I won't say no to that, though I'm not sure how much my bosses would be willing to shell out for the service.” Laera cast her gaze through the cockpit, catching the eyes of the others, who all nodded in agreement. “Call it a gift,” she said. “We're going that way anyway, and it would be remiss of us to save you from one ambush only to let you fall to another.”
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