The Liberator/Part 36

Day 1 of the Conquest of Milagro

"We're approaching the last gravity trap now, sir," a technician called from her station on the bridge of the Coronet's Jewel.

Captain Londenau nodded from his command chair, his cybernetic eye gleaming, and growled, "Carry on."

Mali stood a few paces forward, watching the mottled blue and white of hyperspace churn past the main viewport. "This is it…"

A Jedi wasn't supposed to be tense, but Aldayr knew every being on the bridge was holding his and her and its breath. The seconds ticked by, every one of them wondering how long was long enough, until the ensign crowed, "We're through! ETA to Milagro one hour and forty-seven minutes!"

The bridge crew cheered, Mali barked, "YES!", and even Captain Londenau allowed himself a grin and a bark of exuberance. Aldayr cheered along with them, flexing the fingers of his durasteel hand in anticipation. He sensed a twist in the Force behind him and turned in time to see Raina Kaivalt leading Renata Cul'Caritas out of the bridge. Probably off to meditate again, he thought, relieved that Mali was his master instead; Mali had his flaws, sure, but he usually contented himself with a few minutes' meditation before the battle began.

The rest of their time they spent receiving reports from throughout the Jewel; Army units ready for ground landing, Marines ready for ship-to-ship boarding if the opportunity presented itself, starfighter squadrons checking in one by one. Aldayr envied them the chance to fly in the coming battle, but he didn't ask to join them; whenever Mali finally did make landfall, he would be the tip of the lightsaber blade stabbing where the battle was most intense.

Aldayr had been in enough battles to appreciate that the time went faster when he was trying to ensure everything was ready, and sure enough, he was still getting reports when the technician called, "Ten minutes."

"Captain, the bridge is yours," Mali commanded.

"Aye aye, sir," Londenau replied without turning, tapping a button on his control board to set the alarm; he had served under Mali's command long enough to understand. "Marked for five."

Mali and Aldayr knelt in the center of the bridge, closing their eyes and purging themselves of emotion—or trying, in Aldayr's case. Aldayr could shed his loathing of Gasald, and desire to punish her for driving them off Milagro in the first place, without much difficulty; what was done was done, and more to the point, they were about to undo it. Anticipation was harder to shake; Milagro was a chance to cleanse the sins of the past, show his prowess as a Jedi, turn the facts and figures on his datapad into the firestorm of battle, and prove to the dozens of politicians and stuffed-shirt nobles that, once they finished gabbling about it and coughed up their fleets, Mali Darakhan could deliver on his word—and his apprentice would be there to contribute to his triumph.

There was a loud BOOP BOOP on the bridge, and the two Jedi snapped back to the moment. Aldayr felt a little more polished, though he was ready for battle now and sure the last few minutes would be interminable. He was on his feet in a second, offering a hand to Mali and hauling him up as well.

"Gonna need that arm in the socket," Mali teased, rolling his shoulder a couple times.

Aldayr smirked and rotated his arm too, feeling the joint roll with the durasteel anchoring mounted to the bone above where Ondar Vargh's blade had struck. He snatched his lightsaber hilt off his belt, threw it behind his back and over his shoulder, caught it with his real hand, and secured it to his belt again. "You can take a rest, Master, I've got it."

Mali snorted, then called, "ETA?"

"Three and a half minutes, sir."

Mali glanced at the blur outside the viewport, then tipped his head back toward the bridge doors. Aldayr followed him, frowning in curiosity; why would he leave the bridge now, with battle seconds away? But Mali waved off his Marines, stopped just outside the door, and laid both hands on Aldayr's shoulders.

"Once the space battle's a done deal and we have an invasion corridor, we're going to have to take it right away, and we're not gonna have time to chit-chat, so here it is: it's not about last time, it's about now, and all the people down there we can save. Got it?"

"Yes, Master."

"If we make landfall and I die, what's your priority?"

Aldayr knew the seconds were ticking by toward decanting; had Mali sprung this on him at the last second as a test? "Karzded."

"Then?"

"Bevrelles?"

"Then?"

Aldayr thought about it. "Take the ground invasion from there?"

Mali rolled his eyes. "Nice try, General Nikodon."

"It was worth a shot." Aldayr gave it some more thought. "Renata?"

"Good. She's a rookie, especially to a fight like this; if Raina and I die, you need to look out for her."

"Yes, Master."

Mali squeezed his shoulders. "You're ready for this. We've both sharpened ourselves against Aresh; don't get cocky, but know what you can do and trust your instincts."

"I will."

Mali nodded, and Aldayr smiled, and they walked back onto the bridge together in time to hear, "One minute!"

"All starfighters prep for launch!" Mali called as he strode back toward Captain Londenau. "Turbolaser crews ready?"

"All batteries report ready, sir!" an ensign replied.

"Fantastic." Mali looked at the entrance of the bridge, and Aldayr turned to see Raina and Renata coming in to join them. They stopped on Londenau's other side, and Raina nodded. Mali nodded back, then asked, "Aldayr?"

Aldayr checked his datapad one last time. "Everything's good to go."

Mali stretched his neck, crossed his arms, and grinned. "All right then! Let's liberate Milagro!"