Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Wayside ❯ Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )

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The Wayside
By Gan Xingba
Chapter Six
 
The docking bay of the Sojourn is totally empty as our ship touches down, save for a lone figure waiting by the entrance to the landing bay. It doesn't take an intelligence agent to figure out who it is, and sure enough, as Bastila and I walk down the exit ramp, Admiral Onasi is walking forward to greet us. I immediately offer up a salute, and the Admiral seems to be fighting back a grimace as he casually returns it and waves me down.
 
“This must be about the third time I've had to tell you that I don't like formalities, kid,” he says wryly.
 
“Sorry, sir, it's instinctive,” I reply with complete honesty.
 
“Don't worry about it,” he responds, smiling amusedly at me before motioning Bastila and I to follow him back towards the landing bay door. “The operation could go one of two ways, depending on whether we're able to find Vagus on the planet, so a lot of this depends on you Bastila.”
 
“He has a very unique Force aura. If he's there, finding him wont be a problem,” Bastila assures the Admiral calmly as the bay door opens and we begin to walk down a long, empty hallway.
 
“Well, if you do find him, then we're going to be sending down several elite strike teams to try and lend him assistance. Malachor's gravitational field is dangerous, but that's a risk we'd have to take,” the Admiral continues. “If he's not down there and that Sith still is, then we'll just bombard Malachor with every gun we have. We have two whole sector fleets here, that should be enough to finish anything that Vagus started.”
 
We approach the end of the hall and Carth stops just before we reach the door. What semblance of Force sensitivity I have immediately senses the Force gathering around Bastila, and I turn towards her only to take a shocked step backwards as she slowly begins to fade out of visibility. I suppose this is of no surprise, such Jedi stealth techniques aren't common, but a Jedi as powerful as Bastila that has been trying to keep herself hidden would surely know them.
 
“I'll make my way to your quarters, Carth,” she says, now barely more than a dim hologram projection and becoming less visible still. “Contact me when we arrive.”
 
“About that, Bastila,” he says, turning towards her with his jaw set as if it expects to be punched. “You're going to be on the bridge this time.”
 
“What?” she snaps, suddenly letting her stealth technique dissipate and subsequently coming back into focus. “Carth, I know you trust your crew, but you can't expect-”
 
“I know, this is going to blow your cover, but once this is over you won't need to hide anyway, right?” he explains, and then hastily cuts off her protests to elaborate. “Besides, I've already told the men what they're up against, because if I hadn't, it would be mass panic if they found out. They know they're up against Sith, so if they see that a Jedi hero like you is with us, their morale will skyrocket.”
 
“I could do that with my Battle Meditation anyway, Carth,” Bastila comments, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed with disapproval.
 
“Yeah, but it would be even more effective if we're confident to begin with,” counters the Admiral. “And we'll need you with the strike team if Vagus is still down there, anyway.”
 
Bastila lets out a long sigh and looks down at her feet. The Admiral is absolutely correct on all points, and she is smart enough to realize this. Then, why is she still so reluctant? Could she be feeling some kind of pressure? No, she has been hailed as a hero since she first entered the Jedi Civil War, she is no stranger to these situations. I feel like sighing myself, as it seems like this is yet another detail that I have been left out on. Seeing as it would be impolite to pry, however, I'm afraid I'm going to have to just learn to deal with it.
 
“Carth, you know I'm still not ready for this,” she states softly, not moving her eyes from her feet.
 
“Damn it, Bastila, everyone's already forgiven you, and you've redeemed yourself a hundred times over,” Admiral Onasi berates her, as I further confuse myself trying to understand what they are talking about. “Listen, you're probably the most powerful Jedi out there right now, and certainly the most famous. If the Jedi are going to survive, you're going to have get over this and step into the spotlight eventually. You may as well get it over with now.”
 
“You're right, of course,” agrees Bastila after a short pause, and she lets her eyes return to their normal level and regains her posture. “Shall we go then?”
 
“Uh…excuse, me, sir,” I interject as politely as possible as the war hero and the galaxy-renowned Jedi move towards the door. “Where exactly do you want me to go, sir?”
 
“The bridge, of course,” replies the Admiral, throwing me a puzzled look. “This operation started because of what you found, didn't it?”
 
I nod dumbly in response as the Admiral throws me another amused grin before turning and opening the door. We, or rather, I should say Bastila, get at least two dozen stares of awe from the crew members rushing about to prepare for the operation as we walk through the halls of the Sojourn, causing more than half of them to simply stop dead in their tracks and ogle. Outwardly, Bastila seems totally unaffected by this, but I am getting the feeling that inside she is struggling to stay calm.
 
Being irritated by Mandalore is one thing, the man clearly had a knack for getting under her skin, but for her to be uncomfortable in this situation is another thing entirely. The Admiral had said that she had been forgiven for something, so by best guess is that it has something that happened in the Jedi Civil War. Perhaps she made some kind of mistake that cost lives. Yes, that would explain it entirely. I suppose it is not that uncommon for traumatic incidents like that to affect someone. Honestly, I should feel ashamed for thinking it strange. Bastila may be a Jedi but Jedi are mortal like everyone else, and war can do terrible things to a mortal mind.
 
We reach the bridge, and my thought process is broken as the Admiral begins to issue commands. I look out through the bridge's window and take in the fleet. It is small in number, as all Republic fleets are these days, but the Admiral managed to scrounge together some heavy firepower. Malachor is a small planet, fortunately, so these ships just might be able to get the job done if we have to bombard it. I pray that is not the case.
 
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“Damn…when this guy gets the job done, he really gets it done,” mutters Admiral Onasi, voicing what everyone is thinking.
 
Only silence follows the Admiral's comment, for there really isn't much to say. Instead of a planet sitting before us, as there should have been, there is only debris. Malachor had been destroyed almost completely.
 
“Get us as close to that debris as you can get us,” orders the Admiral. “I want a full scan of the area. If there is anything at all out there that might have survived this, I want it found.”
 
I can feel the ship lurch as its engines drive it away from the rest of the fleet and towards the remains of Malachor. The soon, we are right amongst the chunks of metal and rock, the pilot of the Sojourn keeping us out of harms way. Suddenly, my Force senses start flaring up, and it feels like someone is screaming inside my head. I start to sweat, and my breathing becomes rapid as the one scream is joined by another, and then another. My vision becomes blurry as scores upon scores of screams begin to flow into my head, and I drop down onto one knee, feeling my strength begin to fade.
 
Just as it gets to the point where I can no longer see anything but a swirling pool of color and I feel like I am about to scream myself, a hand rests upon my forehead. The screams fade away as a soothing feeling flows into me, and my vision clears to find Bastila kneeling down in front of me.
 
“Thank you,” I manage as I try to catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my forehead as I rise to my feet. “I…don't know what came over me. Perhaps I caught something on Dxun.”
 
“You heard screaming, didn't you? As though thousands of people were in great pain?” she asks as she too stands back up, and, taking my obvious surprise as a “yes”, continues. “Sometimes, in places where there has been a great deal of suffering, that suffering manifests itself as ripples in the Force. In these places, those who are sensitive to the Force feel that wave of suffering whether they try to or not, and most who experience it tend to describe it as hearing a thousand people screaming in their head.”
 
My pupils grow wide, and I am unable to do anything but stare at Bastila, too frozen with panic to make any other movement. This can't be happening, I've spent too long hiding myself, carefully covering every little detail that even hinted at my nature for this to happen so suddenly. There must be some way out of this…no, there isn't. I don't curse often but, well, I'm fracked.
 
“When did you find out?” I ask quietly, now having admitted defeat.
 
“I had suspicions since Telos, but I confirmed it on Dxun, when we were attacked by that beast,” she answers, keeping her voice hushed as she moves to stand beside me and gazes out at the remains of Malachor. “The Force flares up naturally in Force-sensitives when they are in danger. It takes a great deal of expertise to prevent that from happening.”
 
Well, at least she just knows that I'm Force sensitive and not an ex-Jedi trainee. Even if she knows about my abilities, my past is still safe for the moment. Now that she has found me out, though, what does she intend to do with this information? I am about to ask her this when the Sojourn completes its scan of the area,
 
“There isn't a trace of any kind of power source or life forms out there, Admiral,” reports an officer turning from his console to face his commanding officer.
 
“Alright, take us back to the main fleet,” orders the Admiral, then pausing and stroking his chin for a moment before issuing his next command. “Send a message back to Command. I want every system in the Republic to be on the lookout for the Ebon Hawk, and make sure that they are checking for the ID signature that it was carrying back on Telos.”
 
There are several soundings of “Sir!” as the crew sets about to follow the Admirals orders. The Ebon Hawk must have been the ship that Mandalore was referring to back on Dxun; Vagus' ship. It seems logical than to think that if Vagus is alive, he will be with that ship.
 
“I just have to give the rest of the fleet an update on the mission status and I'll be done here,” says the Admiral, turning to face Bastila and I. “You can wait for me in my quarters, Bastila. We can talk about what you've found there. Mical, I've already had private quarters arranged for you. The protocol droid to your left will lead you to them.”
 
I turn to my left to indeed find a silver protocol droid waiting for me. It asks me to follow it with the usual politeness associated with protocol droids, or at least I assume so, for I am too lost in thought to pay attention as I follow it. It is a safe assumption that Bastila will tell the Admiral about my Force sensitivity in addition to whatever it was her and Mandalore were talking about after I left. They will likely take a look at my file to try and determine whether I am self-taught, an ex-Jedi, or something else entirely. My file has fooled everyone that's looked at it so far, but it has never been put to this kind of a test before. Normally, I would still have confidence in my ability to cover my tracks, but with the way things have been going recently, nothing is a certainty.
 
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Whoever invented the refresher deserves to be commended as the single most brilliant scientist in the history of the galaxy. It is hard to believe that the act of cleaning oneself can relax one's mind so greatly, but it does. Add to that an hour of meditation, and I am no longer as worried about whatever it is that the Admiral and Bastila have been discussing in his quarters. This situation is out of my hands, and no amount of worrying will give me any kind of control, so I might as well try to keep relaxed.
 
I put on my uniform, which had been brought to my quarters along with the rest of my belongings and begin to fiddle with some antidote kits. Medicine, along with history, has been another subject that has always interested me, and occasionally I will try to improve upon the various medicines that I posses. It is a good way to pass the time, although admittedly not quite as good as going through lightsaber maneuvers. After about a half-hour of this, my room's comlink begins to beep.
 
“Yes?” I say after activating the comlink's speaker.
 
“Jedi Bastila Shan wishes to see you in her quarters, sir,” responds the voice on the other end of the transmission. “Room A-52.”
 
“Tell her that I am on my way,” I reply before turning off the comlink and sitting down on my bed
 
Bastila? Not Admiral Onasi? I suppose that rules out a debriefing. A skilled Jedi she may be, but I highly doubt that she knows proper Republic Intelligence briefing procedure. I suppose this is about my Force sensitivity, then. In any event, I shouldn't keep her waiting.
 
I rise from the bed and exit my quarters, smoothing out my uniform as I walk down the halls. After all, what is the point of wearing formal clothing if it isn't kept formal looking? It has been a while since I have been on a ship of this design, so it takes me a while for me to find room A-52, but I do eventually find it. After taking one last moment to gather myself, I knock twice on the door.
 
“Come in,” says Bastila's voice, muffled by the steel.
 
Opening the door, I find her pouring over a datapad in a chair facing the doorway. She apparently took advantage of the Sojourn's comforts as well, for she is wearing a fresh set of basic civilian clothes rather than the Jedi robes that she had been wearing since I met her on Onderon.
 
“You wanted to see me, Miss Shan?” I ask, seeing as she has not spoken first.
 
“Ah, Mical. Please sit,” she offers, putting down her datapad as I take a seat in the only other chair in the room. “I will soon be leaving the Sojourn on another task. Seeing that you now know more about recent events concerning the exiled Jedi Vagus Macheara than anyone else that we can trust, Carth and I have both agreed to offer you the option of aiding me in this task.”
 
“Offer?” I ask, at first puzzled, but even as the word exits my mouth, my expression switches to one of realization. “That means…”
 
“Yes, Mical, this next task is not officially sanctioned by the Republic,” she finishes for me. “It is `off the books', so to speak.”
 
Here I pause. Aside from covering up my past, I haven't done anything “off the books” since joining the Republic Military. I have always figured that was why the books were there: so that everything could be done “on” them. Additionally, when something was “off the books”, it was usually something bad. Still, Bastila and the Admiral are loyal to the Republic, and their interests are usually the Republic's interests. I had best make sure, though.
 
“I know that you cannot give me the details, but could you tell me the purpose of this task before I commit to it?” I ask, not even sure what answer would suffice.
 
“Of course,” replies Bastila simply. “We are going to rebuild the Jedi order.”