The Fog of War/Part 7

"Are we Gray Jedi now, Master?" Narasi asked when she could stand Tirien's silence no longer.

The question wrenched his unseeing stare away from the blur of hyperspace outside the cockpit, but he closed his eyes and put one hand over his face for a moment. When he emerged again, he showed her a weary look. "I don't know."

Narasi could see how much the decision was still weighing on him, and she tried to find the right words of support. "Master Kadych is with us?"

The twist of his mouth suggested he didn't find that much more reassuring than she did. In truth, Narasi was deeply uncomfortable having the cold Umbaran along for the mission, let alone aboard the Second Chance, but she recognized the slim window it had opened and knew she had to swallow her distaste.

"For better or for worse," Tirien answered. "The vote was four to one; he may be in the same ship as the rest of us."

Tirien had told Narasi the stakes before they had left the Crescentia. It had surprised her, though the absence of his usual calm poise had told her something was wrong before her master even opened his mouth. She was scared of the consequences of this mission, but there was no chance she was staying behind. And now she felt oddly gratified by her master's trust—especially by contrast.

"Did Master Darakhan tell Aldayr the Council didn't approve?" she asked.

"Before Master Kadych did, you mean? I expect so; 'furtive' isn't really Mali's style."

"But he didn't tell him about the Corellians?" Narasi asked, lowering her voice.

Tirien's mouth twisted. "Apparently not."

Narasi didn't know what to make of it. She shared Tirien's annoyance with the would-be seditionists; she suspected her master's disapproval ran so deep he might even use the word 'annoyance' himself. But why didn't Master Darakhan trust Aldayr enough to tell him? Aldayr was Corellian himself.

Tirien's voice drew her back to the moment. "When we land on Milagro—"

"—it's going to be dangerous," Narasi completed, giving him a smirk. "I'm with you, Master, whatever comes."

Tirien waited until she was done, but his hard stare wiped her smile away. He took a breath and began again. "That's gratifying, but listen. When we land, you need to stay close to me until we get a sense of what's going on on the ground."

Narasi frowned; his trust was invaluable to her, but she hoped it didn't come at the cost of confidence. "I'm ready, Master. I survived Taanab, and Toprawa, and—"

"And this is Taanab all over again, except we don't have an army this time," Tirien returned. "Six of us against everything Vedya Gasald is throwing at Milagro, plus whatever is left of Lakalt's forces. Plus the Milagroans, potentially; they were a neutral system before this started."

"Shouldn't that mean they'll support us?" Narasi pointed out. "The Sith are the invaders."

"Some worlds might," he allowed. "They just want to avoid the fighting, so they'd back an enemy of the enemy. Others distrust the Sith and the Jedi; just by being on a world like that we'd all be invaders.  I don't know enough about Milagro to know which they'll be; I didn't have the time to research it…"

He trailed off into a grimace of frustration. Narasi knew her master well enough to understand how uncomfortable this impromptu, 'make it up as we go' mission made him. Personally, she was glad for the chance to improvise a little; there was a lot to learn aboard the Crescentia, but there was no substitute for being in the field, actually doing things.

"The Force is with us, Master," she told Tirien.

"It is, when we follow its will," he answered slowly.

"And you said we're supposed to be here, right?" she pressed.

His yellow eyes turned distant as he looked out the viewport. He nodded, but did not speak.

"So we can handle it," she concluded optimistically.

Tirien faced her again. "Stay close anyway," he said. "It's more than just soldiers down there."

"The Sith," she agreed; just saying the name made the lightsaber on her belt press more heavily into her leg.

Something in her voice finally wrenched Tirien out of his abstraction completely, and he narrowed his eyes. "Be mindful of your thoughts, Narasi. Dueling Sith Lords and their Acolytes is sometimes a necessity, but it's not an accomplishment."

She found his remonstrance a little frustrating. "Didn't Master Shadeez say that just because they're dangerous doesn't mean we should be afraid?"

"He did." A wistful look passed over Tirien's face, there and gone in the space of a few heartbeats. "But don't confuse fear and caution. Don't fear them, but don't underestimate their skills, either."

"I've been training hard, Master," she insisted. "I'm ready."

Tirien opened his mouth to respond, but the proximity alert chimed on the control panel. He drew a deep breath; Narasi recognized the shift in the Force as he recentered himself. Flipping on the intraship comm, he said, "We're coming up on Milagro. Buckle in."

He turned to the control yoke, waiting as the seconds ticked down. Apparently his message had gone unheeded, because one-by-one their four passengers came forward, crowding the cockpit's doorway; Mali Darakhan crouched between Tirien and Narasi's chairs. "You want me on copilot, Tirien?"

"Narasi's got it," Tirien said, and Narasi felt a touch of pride.

"On the guns, then?" He frowned. "Do you have any guns?"

"They're on the to-do list," Tirien said, not turning to look at Mali's wince. He glanced at the controls. "Fifteen seconds."

"Standing by to cut in sublights, Master," Narasi said, but as she laid her hand on the switch Tirien shook his head.

"Belay that," he ordered. "I want to get a sense of what's out there first. If the Force is with us they'll overlook the hyperspace reversion, and I don't want them tracking the drive signature.  Passive sensors only."

Narasi felt taut as a monofilament wire as the countdown reached zero and Tirien pulled back the hyperdrive lever. The blur of hyperspace shattered into the countless pinpricks of light that marked distant stars, as well as the bright spot that was the system's primary. Milagro itself dominated the viewport all at once as if it was on a screen that had rapidly zoomed in. The planet's surface showed large swaths of the dark terrain glittering with unnatural light that could only be kilometers upon kilometers of industrial zones. Narasi couldn't get a good sense of how numerous the lights were, however, because the space between the planet and the Second Chance was filled with other bursts of light, flashing and disappearing in the blink of an eye as hair-thin gleams connected reflective spots in orbit.

They all waited for a long moment to see if they had been detected. Eventually, when no one shot at them, Narasi ventured, "It's still going on." "We're not too late," Aldayr added.

"Quiet," Tirien said, then closed his eyes, raising a hand toward the viewport. He was silent for a moment, then asked, "Mali, what do you sense?"

"Lakalt's still fighting for it, but Gasald has him on the ropes," the Corellian answered. His voice was breathy, almost dreamlike, and when Narasi turned she saw his eyes were closed too. "There's fighting on the ground."

"Slejux?"

"The fighting is intense, but worse in some places than others. You sense it there, and there?"

Narasi thought he must have been communicating without words too, because Tirien nodded. Narasi tried to reach out with the Force and feel it for herself while Tirien asked, "Master?"

"Most of her Sith are downside." The Umbaran's voice was more matter-of-fact than usual, the snide edge subsumed beneath the demands of the moment. "But not all."

Tirien nodded and opened his eyes. "Narasi, what do we have on passives?"

Abandoning her efforts to follow their perceptions herself, she hastily checked the scanners. "Uh…they're broadcasting ID signatures. I can't get models without active scanning, but…well, here."

She pulled up a scratchy holo of the battlespace; the imagecaster was among the many systems in need of an update, but she managed to coax it into projecting a sphere with red spots in orbit for the enemy capital ships.

"Where's the terminator line between the fleets?" Mali asked.

"I dunno; without active sensors I'm only getting names, but…" She looked over her data feed, brightened one dot, then said, "There.  That's the Kiss of Death."

"Can we get aboard?" Mali asked of everyone and no one.

"No," Tirien and Master Kadych replied in unison.

"The battle is too intense, Darakhan," Master Kadych continued alone. "She still has her fighter squadrons deployed. We won't pierce that screen."

"It also means the flagship's at its lowest complement," Mali pointed out, but Tirien shook his head.

"We're unarmed, Mali," Tirien reminded him. "With some help from the Force I might be able to outfly them, but we can't outfight them, and our shields aren't strong enough to take the bombardment we'd get."

"Downside, then," Master Kadych stated with finality.

Tirien grimaced and nodded. "There's nothing for it, we'll have to run the blockade. Slejux, I'll need your help up here; the rest of you strap in.  Narasi, cut in the sublights.  Give me half thrust and forward shields only for now."

She secured her crash webbing and obeyed, and the Second Chance shot forward; someone stumbled in the passageway leading to the living quarters. Slejux only swayed a little on the spot, though his fingers dug into the backs of their chairs.

"Keep an…well, not an eye out," Tirien said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Keep some mental cilia sensitive for trouble."

Slejux's vocoder produced his mechanical laugh, but quiet soon returned to the cockpit as the Sith fleet drew closer. Tirien was giving the Kiss of Death a wide berth, Narasi saw, swinging toward Milagro's south pole aft of Lady Gasald's flagship.

"Because the Kiss of Death wouldn't be at the front line, so behind it is definitely behind the battle lines?" she guessed.

"Good," Tirien said without looking at her. "Darth Saleej might put the Unquenchable Fire up front where it can do the most damage, but Gasald's a different type."

Narasi smiled, pleased with herself, but a sudden flicker of tension from Slejux sobered her. "They've spotted us, Tirien."

The comm chimed a second later, but Tirien ignored it. "Full throttle, Narasi, and half each to fore and aft shields. Active sensors live, power down nonessentials."

Milagro filled the viewport, blocking out the far-off stars, and Narasi could at last discern the shapes of individual ships—the bulky battlecruisers, the smaller frigates and corvettes, and even a handful of tiny picket ships. She looked at her feeble holo for a reference, then cast about until her eyes found the Kiss of Death; they were close enough for her to see that it was the largest craft in orbit and ringed by a protective screen of warships.

Green light flared, then brightened, then filled the viewport with its glare until Narasi's pupils shrank and her hair stood on end. Tirien banked them hard to port and the blast passed by. Then near space erupted with fire as the capital ships tried to track them, and Tirien weaved the Second Chance through the lattice of fire as Narasi's claws dug into armrest of her chair.

"Calm, Narasi," Tirien said; his voice was tight, but controlled.

The status board beeped again and Narasi pulled her nails free so she could call the display up. "Fighters, Master!"

Tirien nodded and started to bank more sharply to and fro, cutting a path through the crossfire. A few thinner laser bolts scorched past the cockpit as their pursuers fired and missed. "We could lose them close to the ships?"

"Too risky," Tirien said, and now the strain of concentration crept into his words. "Can't get into tractor range."

Narasi wanted to ask, but Tirien's tone told her this was not the time for long conversations. The Second Chance shot this way and that, jinking and juking to make the tractor lock harder. Narasi watched in trepidation as the pursuing fighters closed the distance; the new engines seemed to be holding up, and she thought the Second Chance could beat them on a straightaway, but with all the weaving…

The ship rattled, and Narasi's eyes widened as they danced over the readout. "We're hit!"

"The shields are hit," Tirien corrected tersely. "That's what they're there for."

The shields continued to fulfill their purpose as Tirien dodged fire from the capital ships; by the time they cleared the blockade line and dove toward the atmosphere the readout graphic was turning from yellow to red. "We can't take much more, Master."

"Slejux, can you throw them off?" Tirien asked.

Slejux did not reply, but Narasi sensed the change in the Force behind her and looked back. He had no eyes to close, of course, but it seemed like the tiny hairs all over his body were standing still. The lead fighter fired again, but this time the shot went wide. Narasi watched the readout anxiously as the view out the canopy turned from black space to fiery atmosphere, but the deeper they plunged toward the surface the more uncoordinated the fighters seemed to become. She looked down at the display to switch to repulsors when they breached the atmosphere, and saw a whole flight of them soar off the wrong way.

"Is that…?"

"Not now," Tirien snapped. The Second Chance dove, and Narasi's stomach started to work its way up her throat as the inertial dampener wark-ed in alarm. Below she could see Milagro's industrial districts, though several were on fire and whole blocks had already been reduced to ash. Taking deep breaths through her nose to keep her stomach settled, she saw the view start to spin and more starfighter fire missing them.

"Tirien…" Slejux warned.

"I need a little more time!"

He flew them down between two factories, banking into a turn so tight Narasi hissed before she could control herself. Two lights faded from the scanners as a pair of pursuing pilots failed to make the same turn. Seven remained.

Tirien looked ahead, glanced down at the screen again, looked back. "Narasi, get ready to take the controls."

She stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Me?"

"You can do this," he bit out. "So do it. Trust the Force."

"Yes Master…" she replied a little faintly, but she laid her hands on the auxiliary control yoke anyway.

"Stand by…now." He switched control over to her, and suddenly Narasi had the whole ship in her hands. The yoke rattled in her grip, the beleaguered freighter fighting the atmospheric drag and the chasing laser bolts. The rear shields took a hit and flickered; Narasi swung wide to throw their pursuers and nearly put the Second Chance through a factory wall.

"Master…"

"Use the Force, Narasi," he urged. "Look at that industrial complex two klicks up. Bank hard to starboard there.  Feel when it's right.  Trust yourself."

Narasi gritted her teeth, her lips clamped shut so tight she could feel her fangs digging into the soft flesh. She dared not weave too much lest she turn them into a smoldering crater in a building, but her conservative flying meant the aft shields finally gave out, and the Second Chance bucked as a followup shot finally scored a hit on the hull.

"Now we're hit."

"Calm, Narasi…get ready…don't think, just trust your instincts…"

She saw the complex racing toward them; even as she tried to analyze the best route the distance evaporated. Fighting panic, she almost turned down a hoverlane between two factories still belching smoke, but her hands stayed level even as her mind hesitated; it felt wrong. Then, suddenly, she knew, and she wrenched the ship starboard. Someone back in the passenger area cried out as the world turned sideways, industrial smog and daylight mixing in a kaleidoscope with brick walls and the ground below.

"Go straight!" Tirien said, and for a wild moment Narasi thought he was talking to her. She almost screamed TOO LATE, MASTER!, but then he repeated, "Go straight go straight go straightstraightSTRAIGHT!"

"Go straight!" Slejux's vocoder buzzed too.

Narasi wrenched the Second Chance parallel with the ground; still piloting on Force-based instinct, she gasped as a massive surge of the Force rolled over her. But it was not directed at her, and even as she dodged around a smokestack she spared a glance at the display and saw the remaining seven fighters all going off along the same path they had been following before Narasi turned. In seconds they were pushing the edge of the sensor field and it had to expand to track them.

"Master!"

Tirien shook his head and took the controls back. "Passive sensors and drop engines down."

It took Narasi a second to pry her hands free of the auxiliary controls, but she got the ship's profile down as Tirien banked for what remained of a durasteel factory complex. Sweeping the Second Chance down between two smokestacks and a depowered power coupling, he settled the freighter onto the fifth-floor roof of one building. Narasi had the oddest impression of an exhausted person throwing herself onto her bed when the ship's landing struts touched down.

As the engines cooled, Tirien sat back in his chair, eyes closed, taking deep breaths. Slejux was quiet behind them, his head lowered. Narasi stared out the viewport, still amazed at what she had done and that she had survived to be amazed by it.

They stirred only when Master Kadych appeared at the cockpit hatch. "That was eventful," he commented. "Perhaps you'd care to join us on the surface, too?"