She remembered desperately wanting to stand, desperately wanting to move, but she could not.
Drip.
She tried to open her eyes but they seemed to have betrayed her just as her legs had done.
Drip.
She could hear voices, urgent, demanding, frantic, but she could not respond.
Drip.
I am dying, she thought.
Drip.
That is the sound of my blood.
Drip.
It is the sound of my final victory.
Silence.
“Now you listen to me, you stupid bitch! Like fuck I’m letting you die before I get what I want!”
Vywa Blacksky whimpered as Mirax roughly bound her wound with strips of cloth torn from her pant leg. Leia winced in sympathy despite her distaste for the Senator and began, “Mirax, maybe you shouldn’t—”
“Shut up, Leia,” Mirax snarled, her checks still hot with tears of frustration. If only she’d gotten there a little earlier, if only Cyan hadn’t—“Like she deserve our tender lovin’ care. Fuck! Fuck!”
“Mirax, calm down!” Leia admonished, grabbing her wrist when Mirax tugged particularly hard on the bandage, electing a moan from Blacksky. “A med-vac is on its way! Keep this up, and you’ll cause more bleeding.”
Mirax wrenched her wrist out of Leia’s grip but stopped, struggling to control her rising panic. “She can’t die. If she dies than Corran dies. She can’t die!”
“She won’t,” Leia said more firmly than she actually believed. “Look, you woke her up. The fact that she’s conscious after sustaining those injuries is a good sign. But you’ve got to calm down. Are you ok to take care of her?”
“Yeah…yeah, I think I’ll be ok now,” Mirax muttered, continuing her administrations in a decidedly less violent manner.
Leia briefly rubbed her shoulder before walking towards the far edge of the roof top. The ground on the way there was stained with black blood and she avoided the clear puddles that were still sizzling their way through the ferocrete. She was just about to look over the edge to see if there were still any signs of Olive and Cyan when a green paw appeared and gripped the edge right in front of her. As Olive clambered over the edge, Leia realized the smaller dragon was carrying an apparently comatose Cyan.
“Olive! Oh, god, is Cyan all right?” Leia asked, helping the green dragon lower Cyan’s body to the rooftop. She glanced at Olive and then paused, feeling that there was something different about the dragon. “Are you all right?”
Olive glanced at Leia and then smiled wearily and shrugged, “Cut up, no worse than what I gave. Neither of us will be flying for a while, I think.”
“Are you sure?” Leia insisted, hovering between the two dragons and wondering who she should look over first. She finally decided on Cyan but spoke to Olive over her shoulder. “It’s just that something seems different about you. Is your voice higher?”
“Eh—huh?” Olive stuttered.
Before Leia could respond the air was filled with the sound of repulsorlift coils supporting the approaching med-vac as it made its way to the roof. Soon there was no time for Leia and Olive to speak at all as they rushed Blacksky and Cyan to the hospital.
Upon arriving at the medical centre, Olive gladly took a moment to collect herself and stood back from all of the activity. She smiled, shaking her head—yes, her head. She wondered how she was going to explain this to everyone else, and how they would take what happened between her and Cyan. That thought removed the smile from her lips. Cyan had lost consciousness shortly after they…Olive’s train of thought halted. What did they do? She couldm’t precisely say they made love, but it wasn’t as crude as a simple mating either. She sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. Whatever it was she guessed she should wait until Cyan woke up before she discussed it with anyone else.
“Olive?” The green dragon turned to the door and brightened when she saw Corran being led in by a nurse. “Are you there?”
“Corn!” Olive cried, taking one hurried leapt towards him and then instantly regretting in. “Ow! Oh, shit, give me a second, I’m coming!”
Corran laughed, stretching out his hand so that Olive could nudge it with her snout. “Don’t hurt yourself, I’m not going anywhere. Have you seen my wife?”
“She’s hovering near the operation room where they’re treating Blacksky. I think she’s scaring the staff,” Olive said sheepishly, realizing she should have stayed near to give Mirax comfort.
“She’s fine for now,” Corran said as Olive took the place of the nurse. “Come sit with me.”
“Ok,” Olive said, leading Corran to some chairs in the waiting room. “Have you seen Leia?”
“Leia went back to court. She wants to convince them to push the case forward since in New Republic law you can’t convict someone once their dead. If Blacksky dies before the verdict is delivered it will be up to her husband to decide what happens to her body.”
“I never thought of that. I hope Leia succeeds,” Olive said thoughtfully.
“I’m not worried, Nawara is as ruthless in the courtroom as he is in an X-Wing. I am, however, worried about you,” Corran added, his eyes half lidded as he frowned. “Tell me what happened.”
“Oh, I thought you knew. Blacksky ran into this building when I was chasing her—”
“No,” Corran held up his hand and shook his head. “I want to know what happened to you and Cyan after you fell off the roof. Leia said your sense in the Force felt very odd.”
“Well, I was wounded, Corn! Maybe I just lost a lot of blood and didn’t realize how woozy I was—” Olive began, finding it strangely difficult to meet Corran’s sightless gaze.
“Olive, you don’t have to make excuses. It’s ok,” Corran said reassuringly.
“It is?” Olive asked, wondering how Corran had figured it out. “I mean, maybe I should have seen it coming—”
“How could you?” Corran asked, patting Olive gingerly on the shoulder. “None of the rest of us realized Cyan was this unwell. Certainly none of us expected him to be out of it enough to try and kill Blacksky. You did what you had to do—”
“IhadsexwithCyanandI’magirl!” Olive suddenly blurted.
“…What?”
“I had sex with Cyan and I’m a girl,” Olive repeated more slowly. “I didn’t plan this or anything. We were fighting and Cyan had this crazy fever and I could feel it and he was crazy and then we hit the ground and then suddenly—BOOM—we’re having sex and it was good but weird ‘cause I felt like we were thinking the same and I don’t know if he’s even going to remember ‘cause when we finished he passed out and I feel kinda weird now.”
Corran waited a second to absorb Olive’s words. “Um…wow, that’s … expected. Are you ok?”
“I don’t know!” Olive moaned.
“I mean, did he hurt you—do you need a doctor to look?” Corran said gently.
“No,” Olive replied, rubbing her stomach. “I just feel kinda wiggly in side, but it doesn’t really hurt anymore. I don’t think Cyan meant to be rough or anything…I don’t think he meant to do this at all. He always seemed to dislike me.”
Corran smiled gently. “Like grade-school kids on a playground you two were. Are you all right with this? That it was Cyan?”
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know what he’s going to think when he wakes up, though,” Olive replied glumly.
“I don’t think he’d blame your or anything silly like that,” Corran assured her. “If anything, he’ll feel guilty. He might need you to comfort him…How out of his mind do you think he was?”
“Um, a lot. Like, murderous rampage a lot. But it’s burned out of him now, I think,” Olive said thoughtfully. Then she added hesitantly, “I think it was because Luke got worse.”
“So, they had the same thing? Something they picked up on Baf?”
“No, it’s not the same….just different sides. I don’t really understand it myself, but maybe Cyan does now,” Olive said.
“I hope so,” Corran remarked, “I don’t want the Force back at that cost.”
“Well, you’re getting it whether you want them or not,” Leia declared as she and Nawara entered the waiting room. “Blacksky’s been convicted.”
Nawara glanced around and then brightened as Mirax walked in, her face impassive. “Did you hear? Blacksky’s—”
“I heard,” Mirax said. “So, you’d better get that Chisgon doctor here quick to do the switch—Blacksky’s in a coma and not expected to last the night.”
Chapter Two
Kam crept slowly through the thick jungle that seemed more than just alive. It whispered words with the wind and tugged urgently on his robes with its branches and brambles. He knew that if he stopped for a second he could make out what the words were but the forest pushed him onward along with the rest of the Jedi that had landed on Baf in search of Luke, Han and Mara. The branches were pulling so urgently that soon the small group found themselves running just to keep up.
Suddenly, they found themselves in a clearing, momentarily bewildered by the absence of foliage. Kam glanced back at the trees but they now hung silent and sullen, as if waiting impatiently for the humans to figure it out. Kam turned around and inspected the clearing, trying not to think about when they would have to return to the jungle.
“Master!” Jenab Roheb exclaimed softly, touching Kam’s arm to get his attention. “I can see two people huddled in the grass on the other side. Maybe a droid too.”
Kam nodded and motioned for the others to follow him as he moved his hand to his lightsaber. “Be cautious, but avoid a fight if at all possible. They may be able to give us information.”
They moved slowly through the tall grass, the Jedi, seven in all, barely making a sound against the moist earth. As they approached Kam realized he could hear harsh weeping cutting through the harsh air. Soon they were close enough to make out the colours of the two humans’ clothing in the moonlight. Kam straightened and let his hand fall away from his weapon, sighing in resignation. “I think we’ve lost Luke again.”
* * *
“It’s like when she woke up after having the twins,” Cilghal murmured to Han later after they had returned to Bairn of Hope. Mara lay on a hospital bed, curled into a ball as she stared sightlessly out the window. She ignored most attempts at communication, and when she did reply she did so with as few syllables as the Basic tongue would allow. Neither she nor Han had received any serious injuries. The tech crew were quite impressed that Artoo could still move with all of the weeds they’d found jammed in his treads, but beyond that the droid had survived relatively unscathed as well. At first Cilghal was only going to keep Mara for observation to make sure the head trauma hadn’t done any lasting damage, and to see if there was a chance that her amnesia could resurface. After a few hours of observation, however, Cilghal found she didn’t want Mara anywhere unobserved. “Certainly she is in no condition to retake command of Bairn. What should we do?”
“Go back to Courscant, I guess. Then get our hands on a Cragon doctor who can perform Corrans’ surgery,” Han replied, his expression unreadable.
“Han—“ Cilghal began, frowning.
“I can’t help her. No one can, not even Luke or he would have done so by now,” Han said quietly and slowly. His brow knitted and Cilghal could sense his deep frustration. “It’s the way she is. She’ll help herself. If not, then it’s not something that can be fixed and she’ll find a way around it. Right now we need to focus on what can be done.”
Cilghal nodded in understanding. Though she had a good relationship with Mara, she often found it difficult to get close to the hot-tempered human. Still, Mara’s independent nature was as much apart of her as her survival skills, or her strong loyalty to those she trusted. Perhaps, Cilghal realized in a brief moment of insight, it was her need for independence that needed to be modified. “I understand. Will you be taking over command, then?”
“I don’t know about that. Kam’s doing a fine job. I would like to get back to Coruscant, and once we pick up Cyan he can take over. Karrde’s men are on Baf looking for Luke and the Cragon seem to be sending more and more ships to patrol this system. There’s no telling if Luke is even still on the planet—the Cragon hate it there so he’s probably not. We can’t stick around without starting a fight with all the extra ships flying around, which we’ll eventually have to run from anyway. I’m going to suggest to Kam that we head back to Coruscant, pick up Cyan and Corran and anyone else there who wants to come, and then we start looking for that doctor.”
* * *
Cyan woke slowly, the heat draining from him as if he had stepped gradually into a cool pool. The result was that he felt a strange equilibrium, the sort of which he had not felt since his final joining with Luke. He smiled dreamily, recognizing this sensation. Luke and Mara have been at it again. Must have been good—wait…they’re not…so why do I feel…
“Oh, shavit,” Cyan exclaimed, making short work of the rest of the journey to wakefulness. It took him a moment to realize that he was in the hospital, stretched out on a large bed with only a Two-One-Bee droid to keep him company. He reached out desperately for Luke, remembering vaguely that he seemed to have been in the same level of distress as his dragon. Yet when Cyan tried to contact Luke he was met with nothing but a strange haze that reminded him of a cheesy flashback transition in a holodrama. He couldn’t tell anything about Luke’s current state or location.
He rumbled in worry, shifting on the bed and then regretting the movement as sharp pains lanced through his body. He gingerly arched his neck so that he could assess his injuries. His wings were a tattered mess; whoever had attended him had applied a regenerator to the cuts, bandaged them, and then immobilized his wings close to his body so that he couldn’t tear anything open again. There were deeper wounds on his belly, chest and haunches with bacta-patches in place. He could tell from his brief movement that he had broken a few ribs and a leg.
He turned away from his body; his head drooping until his chin touched the bed as his crest practically flopped to the side. The memory of what had happened came back very vividly—this was the essential difference between what he had and what Luke had, that Cyan’s fever was grounded in the present and Luke’s someplace else. Unfortunately, this meant that he could remember what happened even better than Olive. He could remember his clear conviction that everyone there that got in the way would die, would not just die but be ripped apart completely, their viscera a monument to his desire. He could remember the acrid smell of blood as he and Olive clashed, writhed together, fell together, and then…
What had happened on the ground between he and Olive was not sex, rather, it was just the climax. The sex started on the rooftop, it was just that no one had noticed. His eyelids drooped to match his crest and he became acutely aware of how his weight pressing his body against the bed made it difficult to breathe comfortably. He didn’t even bother to move.
“Didn’t you always pick on me for walking around with my crest half-lowered like I was ashamed for existing? You said that I should only lower it when I am talking to other people, to show that I am engaged in communicating with them, but to do it by myself meant that I talked to myself and felt bad about it.” Cyan looked up and saw Olive standing in the doorway, her mouth open slightly in a dragon smile. “Hello.”
“Olive,” Cyan said, his voice coming out a little hoarse.
“Well, have you been having a bad conversation with yourself or did you make that up just for the sake of freaking out a young and impressionable dragon?” Olive asked, walking on all fours into the room. Though she tried to hide it, Cyan could still see the hint of a limp in her step—her wings were immobilized as well; still, excepting the acid wound on her side, she did not have as many bacta-patches as he did. “Because if the later is true, that’s almost as mean as when you pushed me out of the shuttle, but if the former is true, than you’ll have to let me in as to why talking to yourself was such a drag, since I can’t see why it would be.”
“Olive…” Cyan said again, and then found that that was all he could say.
“That’s a funny answer. Maybe you heard a different question? Perhaps I can guess at what you talked to yourself about. It’s about Luke, right? Since we don’t know where he is and he has been sick, maybe you feel bad about leaving him alone. …hmm, or maybe it’s because you are alone, and you don’t know what to do? I know that now that I am alone, it’s very confusing. But also,” Olive added, settling beside Cyan’s bed and letting her snout nudge closer to his, “I know that there are many ways to be alone, and just as many to be together.”
“Olive!” Cyan exclaimed softly.
“Is that all you can say? Maybe you hit your head harder than I thought when we landed,” Olive remarked. “Maybe you remember it differently than I do. I know I remembered it differently before than I do now. Before it was weird, and confusing and surprising and, yeah, it hurt a little. Ok, it hurt a lot for a moment there. But I thought about it and now I think it’s fine. I think I finally felt a little bit of what you feel like when you’re with Luke, or what Corn feels with Mirax. ‘Cause so far as I can tell, that’s weird, and confusing, and surprising and, yeah, sometimes I think it hurts a lot too. And I want to thank you because I’ve never felt that way before.”
“Stop it!” Cyan exclaimed, louder this time, looking at Olive in shock. “How can you say that? It was violent, it was horrible! I raped you, Olive. Do you understand? That’s bad, it doesn’t mater how or why it happened, it’s bad. And I did it to you because I lost control. Don’t thank me for that! It shouldn’t have been like that for your first time—”
“But isn’t this your first time too?” Olive asked, looking unperturbed.
Cyan hitched for a second and then shook his head in frustration. “Well…yes, but it’s different for me. When Luke’s with Mara, I feel it with him, so I know what it’s supposed to be like.”
“It is it so different?” Olive asked, looking at him with a more familiar innocence. “When Luke and Mara were together, was it always like those stupid romantic scenes in holodramas? Was it always a perfect expression of love? If so, than why do people do it when they’re not in love? Why do people do it sometimes even if they hate each other? Why did we do it?”
Cyan started to answer and then stopped abruptly, remembering the last time Luke and Mara had made love. No, he couldn’t say that they made love, what had happened that night had confused him but not Luke. Luke seemed to recognize it and accept it as naturally as he had rejected the old rule that Jedi should not merry and have close relationships with friends and family. The answer was simple—all entities are base. “When people have sex because they love each other, it’s amazing and it goes right through you. I can’t describe it any other way. But on the other hand, you’re right, sex and making love aren’t necessarily the same thing. Sometimes it goes through you for different reasons than love. Sometimes it goes through you just because you need something there. Sometimes you need it to go through you so you can confirm you are you, and you know because there is someone else connected to you. But then, if it goes through you far enough, you and that someone else aren’t different anymore, which is scary and nice at the same time, even if it’s bad. Sometimes you need that reassurance more than anything else in the universe, even if it’s fleeting and breaks down if you look at it too hard, ‘cause otherwise we wouldn’t make it through the day.”
“Well,” Olive said quietly, nudging her snout against his, “we’ve never had that before, so now we know that I am me and you are you and we’re not different anymore. But, is it really that brief? I don’t think I’m going to forget this anytime soon.”
“But how long can you put up with me signifying you? I know I can’t live with only you to signify me. That’s stupid and meaningless,” Cyan mumbled.
Olive snorted, “We’re not really talking about sex anymore.”
Cyan sighed and let his head rest on the bed. “I think they gave me too many pain-killers…or not enough.”
“Then let’s not figure out the answer to why people do stupid things when they’re fucking around, ‘cause that sounds like something that college students talk about when they’re spiced off their asses during exams,” Olive remarked.
Cyan looked up at Olive in astonishment, “I’ve never heard that language come out of your mouth ever.”
“I’m an adult now, I can use naughty, naughty words,” Olive declared. “Shit fuck hell bastard bitch damn.”
Cyan blinked, completely taken off guard. “I think you’re order’s a little off.”
“Well, I’m still working on it,” Olive replied. “Mostly it was meant to make you laugh. I don’t think I could get used to talking like that. But I could get used to this.”
“Used to what?”
Olive let her mouth drop open again in a half-smile. “Having a real conversation with you. It’s our first time for that too.”
Cyan looked at her for a long moment before his expression finally softened. “I guess so. But then, this is also the first time I’ve seen you as an equal, and not just some draco-kit Corn took in. You’re being awfully mature about this, Olive, more than I want to be right now.”
“You say that like I thought this up on my own,” Olive remarked. “To be honest, everyone else was a little afraid to come in here, ‘cause we didn’t know what state you’d be in when you woke up. As soon as Mirax pointed out that I’d already proven I can take you, I got volunteered.”
“So you decided to combine two awkward conversations into one?”
Olive shrugged, “That’s about it. Oh, I’m supposed to ask if you know were Luke is right now, and how he’s doing.”
Cyan shook his head, “I don’t know where he is, the only thing I do know is that he’s still sick.”
“And what about you?” Olive asked. “Are you still sick?”
“My sickness was caused by not being able to name my fever. I can do that now,” Cyan said, “but I won’t be completely heeled until I can understand it.”
“The way I see it, you’ve only got two choices,” Harsa said.
After several communications back and forth across the known galaxy it was decided that everyone but Leia would meet on Haven. Leia had to stay on Coruscant for, as she put it to Cyan, “that whole running most of the known galaxy thing I do on the side”. Soon after the last few people arrived they all gathered in the mess hall to discuss their choices. Everyone knew that there were two important things that had to be settled before anyone could move forward. The first problem was where and how to get a doctor to perform Corran’s surgery, and the second, more contentious, problem was who would lead them there.
“I mean, excluding the leadership issue for now, as far as helping Corran is concerned there are only two ways to proceed,” Harsa explained. “We can either go to Chisgon worlds and see if there’s anyone with the right expertise there, or we can start infiltrating Cragon medical basis and hope that we can capture some one and make them do it.”
“How likely is it that there would be someone in Chisgon territory that would be capable of helping us?” Cilghal asked.
Harsa sighed and shrugged, “Not very. The specific information was top secrete. Our best hope would be to find a doctor good enough to figure out what they did and reverse it. As I’ve said before, since we’ve never really had reliable access to bacta out here our doctors have developed more advanced skills than their contemporaries in the core worlds to compensate. However, it would be better to know exactly what they did to Corran since I’m sure we don’t want someone playing trial and error with his brain.”
Corran raised his hand, “I’d like to second that last statement.” There was scattered laughter and Mirax squeezed her husband’s hand, glad to see some of his old flippancy return. Corran was behaving much more like his old self since Blacksky’s conviction, though Mirax didn’t want to think about what would happen if the surgery failed.
“So, really, our best choice would be to get a Cragon doctor,” Ganner asked.
“Not necessarily,” Harsa replied. “Since the information was top secrete, a Cragon doctor probably wouldn’t be any better than a Chisgon doctor, except that the Chisgon doctor would be a lot more willing. The absolute best-case scenario would be to get the guy who performed the original surgery. But if Han is remembering the name correctly—”
“Of course I am.”
“—than that is mostly likely not going to happen. Montranallo’tarius converted into the Cragon sect, and he is usually stationed on Cragon’s Pride. I really don’t think we’ll get onto that ship a third time.”
Talon Karrde, who joined them as a representative of the New Republic’s interests (officially), made his trademark sardonic smile. “After the ruckus you guys caused last time they are no longer accepting non-Cragon trade on the ships, or even allowing the crew off ship on non-Cragon worlds except for military business.”
“Well, that ought to make them real cranky,” Cyan remarked. His wings were still healing, and so remained immobilized; also, his right foreleg was broken and was in a brace along with the other bandaged wounds on his body.
“Wait,” Tionne interrupted, “from what you’re saying the second choice isn’t really an option, and the first choice is just a slightly less crappy option.”
Harsa shook his head. “No, what I’m saying is getting that specific doctor isn’t an option. However, it was a team of doctors that discovered the secrete to the Jedi’s power. All we need is any one of those doctors or a copy of the information they discovered and a doctor competent enough to understand and use it.”
“Wouldn’t this team of doctors be under a lot of security and restrictions?” Lando asked.
Harsa nodded. “Yes. To my knowledge, and keep in mind that what I know is years old by now, most were kept on the Cragon home world, Montranallo’tarius was stationed on Cragon’s Pride, and two others were stationed off world to do research. I only know that much because the Threnody received a lot of our information about Master Skywalker and Master Jade-Skywalker from them. I don’t know if they’re still out there, but I do know that one of them was on the research station Sigmae.”
“Attempting to infiltrate the Cragon home world at this point would be suicidal. Nor do we want to take the chance that someone might screw the procedure up so acquiring the information, or someone who already understands the procedure, is vital,” Cyan said. “Karrde, if possible could you send some personnel out to Chisgon worlds to see if you can find a doctor skilled enough for our needs?” Karrde nodded. “Good. We should focus our attention on Sigmae, then. Even if the doctor is no longer stationed there, there might be some traces of where he went, or even left over records of his findings. We should start with a quiet investigation, and avoid a full-scale assault if at all possible. If I remember correctly the intell on Sigmae listed it as quite the formidable base, and I don’t know if Bairn can take her on. Does anyone have any objections to this plan? No? Than we’ll implement it after we solve our second order of business.”
“Right, who’s going to be in charge,” Kam stated simply.
“I don’t see why it’s that big an issue,” Jenab Roheb commented. “Mara and Cyan have always been second in command, and Mara always superseded Cyan when Master Skywalker wasn’t around to decided. I don’t see the problem with keeping things they way they were.”
“The problem is I no longer want the job.”
All eyes turned to Mara, who sat in the back corner of the room with her eyes steadily fixed on a floor tile. This was probably the longest sentence she had uttered since being plucked off of Baf, Han thought sourly, and he wasn’t sure if it was an improvement or not.
It was Lando who broke the strained silence that followed Mara’s words. “Mara, I realize this is hard for you, but—”
“Let me rephrase,” Mara interrupted. “I do not want to do something I know I am not fit to do. My actions over the last several years will speak to that. Get someone else.”
“Mara, stop it,” Cyan snarled, rising as quickly as three legs would allow. “You’re acting selfish and petty—two behaviours I’ve never associated with you before. We need you! I’m still recovering, I don’t know if I can handle being in charge yet.”
“Cyan,” Mara said evenly as she rose from her chair. “This room is filled with people with leadership experience, and most of those have saved the friggin’ galaxy on at least one occasion. I am sure you will find someone suitable to replace me.” With that she left the room, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
“Mara?! Mara!” Cyan called, moving to go after her. He stumbled and would have fallen if Olive weren’t already beside him to lend him her support. “Damn it!”
“Let her go,” Mirax said derisively when Han and Lando looked fit to chase after her in Cyan’s place. “If she wants to sulk that much than let her. She’s right, there are plenty of people here capable of doing her job.”
“Mirax!” Corran admonished gently.
Mirax shrugged against his shoulder, unperturbed by everyone’s shocked expression. “If anyone wants to go talk to her when the meeting’s over, that’s fine. But it’s too difficult to get all of us together at once. I don’t see why we should waste precious time on someone’s hissy fit.”
“Not that I’m agreeing with her wording,” Commander Palb interjected, “but Captain Terrick-Horn is correct. All of the important players are here except for Master Skywalker and President Organa-Solo, which means that this is the easiest opportunity to plan ahead. I sincerely doubt something like this will happen again any time soon.”
Han and Lando sat down grudgingly and after an imploring look from Olive Cyan joined them.
“Look, while I feel fine right now, I don’t know if my sickness will get worse again or flare up in response to Luke like it did last time. Besides, my best use is in action, it’ll be a waste if I’m confined to Bairn.”
“Not right now,” Cilghal corrected. “Your scales have already healed over your wounds, so the bacta cannot get through to heal the remaining internal damage. Therefore, you will have to heal on your own before you can go into combat, which will take three standard weeks to a month for your leg, and even longer for your wings. As for your illness, I can no longer find any trace of it in your system. I don’t see any reason to worry about it flaring up again, even in response to Master Skywalker, especially since you are having difficulty sensing his presence.”
Olive touched her snout to Cyan’s shoulder shyly. “I can go with you on Bairn. My wings might still be injured, but they’re in better shape than yours, so they should be healed soon. So, as long as you don’t need me to fly anywhere anytime soon, I’m combat ready now. Besides, I’ve gotten too big to be an effective seeing-eye dragon for Corn, so there’s no use in me staying here.”
“I’ll come too,” Han volunteered. “Lando doesn’t need me here, so I might as well go too.”
“So, it’s settled?” Jenab asked, looking tired.
“Apparently,” Cyan muttered.
Karrde nodded, “Good, then I need to make some calls, get people out in Chisgon territory and see if I can find you some more detailed information on Sigmae.”
“Alright, Karrde, you might as well go now. I guess this means the meeting is over. Commander Palb, Ganner, Kawlri, and Lando, I want to talk to you, see what the base needs before we take off. Meet me in Lando’s office. Everyone back to your usual duties for now, we’ll have another meeting to hash out the details before everyone leaves” Cyan said as everyone rose to their feet to leave.
Soon the room was empty, or at least that’s how it looked to those who had were just there. In reality there were three people left in the room, though they were decidedly shorter than the room’s previous occupants.
Ben waited until he was sure that no one was near enough to the mess hall to notice the change and then let his Force illusion drop. Seconds later Sorcha and Shane followed his lead. The twins waited for Ben to say something, but he didn’t. He just sat on the floor, thoughtfully staring at the spot where their mother had been sitting. Finally Sorcha couldn’t handle the silence any longer (as a rule she never kept quite for more than fifteen minutes except when sleeping) and poked Ben rather violently in the arm.
“Hey!” she nearly shouted, loud enough to make Ben jump though Shane looked unperturbed. “What happened? You said we find out where da is! Hardly talked ‘bout him!”
Ben rubbed his arm, glaring mildly at his younger sister. “I don’t think they know where da is.”
“But Ci-an—”
“—doesn’t know either. If they knew they would try and find him,” Ben muttered. “An’ if they don’t know, than nobody could figure it out.”
Shane frowned and traded glances with his sister. “Maybe we could, since we are his kids. We know da really well.”
Ben was silent again, and then shrugged. “We should ask around and see what other people think happened to da. But don’t let other people know what we’re doing. And we’ll listen really close to the Force, see if it will tell us where he is. When it does, we’ll go get him. And maybe mum will be awake by then.”
Karrde found Mara sitting by the waterfall that bracketed Haven between it and the cliff face. She was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees and hair tucked behind her ears, which was still about a third blue. She sat with a surprisingly vulnerable expression on her face, the likes of which Karrde had never seen her wear before, which led him to assume she had not noticed his presence. He carefully kicked a small pebble off of the path and her face suddenly settled into hard lines, though she did not turn towards him. He sat down next to her and looked at the waterfall in silence. Finally he said, “It’s pretty.”
“I’m really sure you have something more important to do than make inane small talk with me,” Mara remarked sardonically without looking at him.
“True,” Karrde replied, also not looking at her, “but I recall having such delightful conversations with you when you were working for my organization, and I figured since we’re regressing today, I might get to enjoy them some more.” Mara finally looked at him, but it was only to glare silently. He shrugged, “Or perhaps you’ve regressed even further back? It’s hard to tell since I did not know you as a child.”
“If you’ve come to lecture me about what I said, Karrde, than you can just—”
“Not at all,” Karrde said, cutting her off. “What you said in there is entirely true. Same was true for me a couple of years back now. I’d like to think I had a better excuse, though Cyan might disagree.”
Mara’s eyes narrowed, “Karrde, what the hell are you talking about?”
“We have both reached a point where someone had to take over for us because we had retreated from normal society. I managed to come back no worse from the experience, and maybe learnt a few new lessons such as don’t charge Luke Skywalker when he’s in a psychotic craze unless you happen to have a ysalmiri on you,” Karrde said with a shrug. “I’m sure you will do the same since I have great confidence in your leadership abilities.”
“Great stars, Karrde, just get to the point! I don’t even know what you’re referring to,” Mara exclaimed, exasperated.
“I’m referring to when I was in a coma and Shada took over for me.”
It was one of the few times in his life that Karrde had seen such an expression of shock on her face, though it was slowly replaced with a look of cold, controlled anger. He was quite sure it was the last thing most of her enemies saw before they died. It took her a good moment to answer and when she did her voice was a perfect match for the unspoken threat in her eyes, “Explain just what the hell you mean by that. Now.”
Karrde shrugged, unconcerned by her expression. “I was catatonic, unresponsive to external stimuli, and needed help going through basic tasks. Since returning you rarely if ever respond when addressed by others, you’re not doing anything, and I think I saw Corran dragging you to the meeting. When a blind man is leading you to where you need to be, you know you’ve reached a new state of uselessness. Your behaviour lately is basically equivalent to being in a coma, which means you are just as ineffectual as I was in mine. I woke up eventually, admittedly with a little help but that’s not unexpected or shameful considering my condition.” He looked at her steadily and then said with a slightly softer tone, “When you decide to wake up from yours, just know that we’ll all be waiting for you.” When he finished Karrde stood and walked off as Mara gaped at his back.
When he was out of sight Mara grabbed a pebble and biffed it into the waterfall. “You’re being talked down to like you’re a child, Mara. Well, it’s not uncalled for… I am a child.”
* * *
Shada walked into the cantina and forced down the immediate feeling of unease she always felt when entering a room filled with only one species. Even if that species were all human, the homogeneity of the faces was somehow disturbing. It didn’t help in this situation that she was disguised to look just like all the other Chiss in the room since she still felt like an exposed nail just waiting to be hammered back in place.
The reason Karrde had chosen her for this mission was due mostly to the fact that she still accepted freelance contracts. At least that was what the official records on her status stated, which could account for her random absences from duty. However, all of that was really just a smoke screen for the times when Karrde sent her on missions that he did not want either the New Republic or Empire to know about.
“Leia’s still trying to get official support from the New Republic, but that’s not likely to happen until after Blacksky’s husband’s appeal goes through. So, until then this is strictly under the table.”
As a result Shada now found herself deep in Chisgon territory, surrounded by Chiss, and looking for a man named Bilbe’malu. The Chiss government swore that if they ever wanted any information on the Cragon he was the man to set you in the right direction. Unfortunately, the only clue she had for finding him was that he would be in this bar and that he really liked purple.
Shada slipped past a table full of some particularly drunk workers and scanned the cantina for anything purple. As she was looking she realized she was the only woman there. She hoped that her presence wasn’t completely out of place—so far as she knew Chisgon women had much more freedom than Cragon women. Well, she would just have to adapt to the situation, since it was too late to turn back now and find someone else. The cantina was set up similarly to Mos Eisley, with the bar situated in the middle of the room; she walked passed it and finally spotted her quarry.
He sat by himself at a table for four, and yet did not seem the least bit separated from the action in the rest of the cantina. He wore a purple cap, a purple shirt and pants with a purple cloak of a slightly deeper shade thrown over his shoulders. His hair was dyed purple, he had on purple nail polish, and he wore purple boots over purple leotards. Sitting beside him on a purple leash was a purple canine, blinking at her with purple eyes. Shad blinked back and struggled to maintain her composure. She approached the table, smiled politely and bowed her head slightly. He returned the gesture and pointed languidly to the chair opposite him. She sat where he indicated and reminded herself that proper Chisgon women don’t slouch.
“I heard from Min that you could tell me what I need to know,” Shada told him calmly, remembering the instructions on how to properly greet him.
He looked at her for a moment with an equally passive expression on his face. Suddenly he grinned ad began chuckling. “I figured someone from the New Republic would come to me soon, I just didn’t think I’d get treated to such a beauty. Nice makeup job, by they way. Even I would need a scanner to know for sure that that’s not your skin’s natural colour.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Shada said, glancing around quickly to see if anyone was listening, though the cantina’s other patrons seemed oblivious.
‘Uh-huh,” Bilbe’malu replied, settling deeper into his chair. “Le me explain something to you. While you can divide my people into the Chiss, Chisgon, and Cragon sects, the lines between them are not clean cut. This world is Chisgon, but could be called Cragon after the next election, maybe even before that. While you are doing a good job of pretending there’s a durasteel pole up yer ass as most Cragon ladies do, a woman from this world wouldn’t be caught dead in this type of establishment. She’d rather pay some guy on the street to come in and get me out. Besides, Cragon women are considered useless outside the house, and you, my dear, have a lethal charm that just cannot be contained.”
Shada smiled and relaxed slightly. “You seem to have been in the business for quite some time. However, I am not here on behalf of the New Republic, I am just doing a favour for some friends.”
“Ah, of course. Grundark’s the word, then,” he said, eyes twinkling. “So, what would you like to know?”
“I was wondering if you could get me the name of a good doctor?”
“Mm, of course, gotta get on that. Doubt they can keep that poor Senator alive for too much longer,” Bilbe’malu commented. “Getting someone with the qualifications you’re looking for will be quite the trick in these parts, since you’re looking for a very, very good doctor.”
“All I need is the names of some potentials, and I’ll check them out,” Shada told him.
Bilbe’malu shrugged, “That’s fine, since that’s all I have.” He reached into a purple pouch at his side and pulled out a data pad and after minimum of rummaging two data cards. He slipped them into the pad and copied the information over. “Anything else, m’lady?”
Shada paused, wondering if she detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice. There was a glint in is eye that reminded her distinctly of Karrde. “I was wondering if you knew anything about a doctor on Sigmae?”
Bilbe’malu was sipping the purple liquid when she finished talking and almost choked. He placed the glass down and stared at her before responding, “The Jedi are going after Sigmae? Ha. Ha!”
“I didn’t say anything about the Jedi,” Shada remarked tersely.
“Right, right, grundark,” Bilbe’malu replied, his eyes dancing at her discomfiture. “Look, I can give you what I have, which even for me isn’t much, but whatever you’re planning I’d recommend you drop it. The only place tighter than Sigmae is the Cragon home world itself, and you don’t even have your vaunted Jedi Master leading you. I don’t care what special abilities you have, they will rip you to shreds.”
“We’ll keep your recommendations in mind,” Shada told him.
Bilbe’malu sighed and pulled out two more data cards. “Here is what I have on Sigmae, and here’s some info on the one other doctor that you’d want which is still off world.”
“Thank you,” Shada said, accepting the data cards and then frowned at him. “You’re being very generous with your information. Perhaps we should discuss payment before we go any further.”
Bilbe’malu smiled. “Oh, I knew how you would pay me when I first saw you, otherwise I wouldn’t have talked to you in the first place. And I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
“Oh,” Shada responded, tensing. This is usually the part where things get ugly. “How’s that?”
Bilbe’malu smiled again, apparently aware of her heightened state of tension. He looked pointedly at her wrist and said, “That.”
Shada followed his gaze and then returned his smile as she handed over her purple bracelet.