Common Ground, Chapter 13: Behind Enemy Lines

Yes, I'm back, and this time I'm going to finish this story up. I apologize for the year hiatus, but it seems like this story won't leave me alone until I actually finish it. I owe two people a huge thank you for their help -- xenzen for her excellent beta of this chapter, and Hekate whose excellent commentary she sent me helped crystallize and clarify where I'd like to go for the rest of this story. Finally a huge thank you to everyone that reviewed and left feedback, either negative or positive.

---

The part of Carth's mind that wasn't focused on barreling through a rocky canyon and dodging cannon fire from four fighters was amazed at how things could go from merely embarrassing to completely fracked up in less than a minute.

Carth gripped the yoke and sent his fighter into a spin, using his fighter's superior speed to keep the hostiles from cutting them off. Behind him, Dustil shouted, 'Hell, yeah!' when one of the enemy fighters exploded from a direct hit from a sonic missile. The other three fighters behind it flew through the billowing cloud of smoke and flames, still hot on their tail.

While Carth had managed to prevent the hostiles from getting a missile lock on their fighter, their ship's shields cracked and shimmered under the constant barrage of laser fire. Carth looped through the canyon, coming within centimeters of the rocky cliff face as Dustil opened fire again. Thrown off by the maneuver, one of the hostiles flew too close to the wall, clipping the side of the canyon, and spun out of control, colliding with a second fighter.

Carth was too busy flying to see the explosion, but the aftershock shook his ship so hard that his clenched teeth started to ache. For the first time since the dogfight began, he allowed himself to believe they might get out of this alive. All they had to do was ditch one last fighter and they could break the atmosphere and contact their command ship.

But Dustil ended Carth's moment of grim elation; his nonchalant, annoyed tone was undercut by the too-shrill edge to his voice. 'Rear stabilizers are blown and our shields are down to eighteen percent. One more hit and we're done.'

Carth grunted an affirmative. Knowing that without the shelter of the canyon they were completely defenseless, he sent the fighter into a near-vertical climb. He heard Dustil's string of panicked profanity over the blaring warning systems.

'Come on, Onasi. Stop being a lazy ass and shake 'em off!'

Cold sweat trickled down Carth's temples. Seconds were stretched out by dreadful anticipation. His lungs burned as he held his breath, waiting for their ship to be blown into tiny little particles.

Dustil's console chirped behind him as he fired off their last sonic missile, and then they were thrown forward in their seats, deafened by the explosion as the left wing, clipped by a missile, disintegrated.

The world blurred into a blinding, gut-churning spin. Carth didn't have time to think, just react; Carth's knuckles turned white as he clenched the yoke and tried to pull them out of the downward spiral. A quick glance at the instrument panel through the black spots that swam across his vision told him that their primary systems were completely offline, and they were barely keeping power under their depleted backup systems.

He didn't know if their last missile had landed on the hostile, and there was no time to check. Carth focused on pulling them out of the spin, desperately trying to find a good place to dump the ship. Carth made the split-second decision to dump the ship in a nearby lake, using what was left of his shattered systems to dump speed so that they wouldn't be vaporized by the impact.

Everything shook and blurred again when the ship hit the water. It skipped along the surface in two bone-crunching impacts before flipping over and splashing to a halt.

Half conscious, Carth hung upside down in his harness. The instrument panels popped and sparked, and then powered down completely with a dreary hum. The ship sank, daylight faded, and Carth couldn't seem to do anything but hang in dazed silence. He tried to concentrate on what Dustil was shouting behind him, but it seemed muffled and distant.

Through the haze of shock and pain, Carth heard a creak from the front duraglass viewscreen. He stared at the duraglass panel in stunned confusion for several fuzzy seconds before realizing that he was looking at a long crack. The crack started out small, but quickly splintered out, fracturing the entire panel. There was a crunch, and then cold, muddy water hit him square in the chest.

Water rushed into the compartment, pooling on the ceiling of their ship. Dustil's hand clamped on his shoulder as he shouted in Carth's ear, 'Hold your breath. I'm popping the canopy!'

Nodding, Carth took a deep breath, struggling not to gasp when cold water sluiced over him. The canopy drifted away below them, almost in slow motion, into the murky, dark depths of the lake.

Carth's numb fingers fumbled with his safety harness. Panic bubbled through him when he realized the locking mechanism had somehow jammed in the crash. Still sinking with the ship, Carth struggled to reach the dagger that he always kept in his boot, but the safety harness was too taut for him to reach it. The sickly daylight faded as he sank further down, and Carth realized that if he didn't get free in the next few seconds, he was going to die attached to his ship.

By the time Dustil's scowling face appeared in front of his own, Carth's lungs were burning. Dustil pulled a knife from his own boot; it glinted in the gloom as Dustil sliced through the harness. Carth knew that it was probably only a few seconds, but it seemed to take forever for Dustil to cut through the straps. When Dustil finally managed to cut him loose, they worked themselves free of the sinking ship. At first, Carth was completely disoriented, but then his training, solidified by endless crash drills, kicked in and he and Dustil followed the air bubbles to the surface.

He was so tired that the last few strokes to the surface felt like kilometers. Carth forced his aching body upwards until his head broke the surface, and both men gasped for air.

Breathless and freezing, they treaded water for a few seconds, trying to get their bearings. Finally, Dustil broke into a grin, laughing as he started swimming awkwardly towards the southern shore. 'It's a good thing you're so pretty, 'cause you can't fly for shit.'

Carth snorted, the tension sliding off him as he began to laugh and follow his friend. 'Fine, hotshot. Next time you can fly and I'll sit on my ass in the backseat and polish my nails the way you do.'

'You'd think you'd be more grateful to the guy who just saved your worthless hide,' Dustil panted as he made ripples in the black water. He may have sounded cocky, but Carth could tell by the slow way he was swimming that his friend was just as exhausted as he was. Their flight jumpsuits and boots, now waterlogged with freezing water, were making it difficult for both men to swim, and progress towards the shore was maddeningly slow.

Carth truly was grateful, knowing that he'd be dead if it weren't for Dustil. He also knew that if he didn't admit it, Dustil would harp on the subject for days. 'All right, all right. I'll buy you the biggest steak and coldest beer I can find when we get back to base.'

Dustil shot him a disdainful look. 'I just saved your life. Come on, you can come up with something better than that!'

'You have something in mind?' Carth asked, knowing full well that Dustil probably did, figuring that it would probably have something to do with lots of liquor and cantina dancers.

Dustil came up with something even more outrageous. 'Yeah. I think you should name your firstborn kid after me.'

Carth laughed so hard that he ended up swallowing a mouthful of cold water and choking for a few seconds.

'What? Why is that so funny?' Dustil demanded as he slapped Carth on the back a couple of times.

'How isn't that funny?' Carth finally managed to choke out.

'Hey, I just saved your life! The least you could do is show me a bit of respect.' Apparently satisfied that Carth wasn't going to drown again, Dustil resumed swimming towards shore, but stayed within arm's reach of his friend.

Even though he liked kids, the idea of one of his own was completely alien. But it wasn't an unpleasant thought, and his mind couldn't help but wander to Morgana, wondering what kind of kids they would have had if things had worked out.

'What if my firstborn is a girl?' he blurted out, picturing a gaggle of golden-haired girls. It made him ache knowing that there was no possibility of that happening now.

'Huh.' Dustil considered the problem for a brief moment, before brightening again. 'You could always call her Dustilla.'

Carth laughed even harder, but this time managed to avoid half drowning himself again. 'Dustilla?'

'Okay, okay.' Even Dustil couldn't keep a straight face over that. 'You don't have to name a girl after me. Just a boy.'

'All right, fine. If it will shut you up, I promise that if I ever have a son, I'll name him after you.'

Dustil's troublemaking grin broke across his face, although the effect was spoiled a bit by the fact that his lips were starting to turn blue.

'Sweet,' Dustil declared through chattering teeth.

Carth swam the final few meters to shore, trying to ignore how heavy his limbs were getting by focusing on what an idiot his friend was. Dustil lapsed into silence, and a quick glance over at his friend told Carth that Dustil was struggling just as much as he was. After several long, cold and miserable minutes, they both collapsed on the rocky beach, panting.

'What now?' Dustil asked as he rolled over, wrenched off one of his boots and dumped the water out of it.

Anything Carth was about to say was cut off by the roar of Julia's fighter streaking across the sky with two hostile fighters hot on her tail. For a wild, hopeful second, Carth thought Julia was going to shake them when one of her missiles scored a direct hit. But it wasn't enough, and they could only watch, horrified and helpless, as the other fighter fired a pair of sonic missiles. Julia's fighter exploded in an orange ball of flame, lighting up the dreary sky.

---

Sitting at the kitchen table, Morgana scrolled through the datapad one more time, checking and rechecking her appeal. Brell shook his head and helped himself to a second helping of Corellian noodles, almost managing to keep the irritation out of his voice. 'It's as finished as it's going to get.'

Morgana bit her lip and clutched the datapad, unwilling to let it go just yet. 'I'm not sure that it's ready.' She started to scan through the contents again. 'I should really re-check-'

He snatched it away, setting it out of reach and flashed her a smile. 'It's done, it's perfect, and it's time for you to relax.'

Morgana sighed, trying really hard not to be annoyed with him. Over the last several days, Brell had generously spent long hours with her, poring over every detail of her project and painstakingly helping her put an appeal together before the deadline tomorrow. To be irritated with him now seemed ungenerous at best, so she folded her twitching fingers in her lap.

'I'm not sure that I can relax. I'm probably going to be up all night.' She was not about to admit to Brell that nervousness over her appeal was only part of the reason why.

She stared down at her food and began to pick at it, trying to summon up her appetite and trying not to think about Carth. Brell had been thoughtful enough to bring dinner with him. The least she could do was eat some of it.

Brell frowned at her. 'You should relax while you can. You do realize that once you turn this in, your work has just started, right?'

Nodding, she set her fork down, grateful the conversation gave her an excuse not to eat. 'I know. I have two more finals to study for.' At least that was something she really wouldn't have to worry about too much. She was pretty confident that after a day or so of review she'd be able to ace them the way she usually did. Still, she knew herself well enough to realize that she was probably going to compulsively study for them anyway. 'But if they grant me a hearing, it won't be until after midwinter break, which will at least give me time to study for my finals.'

'I'm not talking about your finals, or the hearing in a couple of weeks.' He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. 'You're not going to like this, Ana, but you're going to have to start meeting people.'

Morgana could feel the color drain out of her face. 'I am?'

'Yeah. Once school starts up again, the University puts on a series of cocktail parties and events, and you need to be there.'

'But-'

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. 'There's no 'but' about it. You asked for my help, and I'm telling you that this is what you need to do if you want this grant. These people need to meet you. Your appeal is going to stir up a ton of controversy. There are a lot of egos at stake here, and if the Regents are going to override the grant board's decision, they need to put a face to the person behind the appeal. They need to like you and want you to win.'

Fear over social occasions that were only weeks away choked her into silence. Finally she managed, 'I don't know if I can do this.'

Brell nodded towards the datapad and crossed his arms over his chest. 'Then there's no point in turning this in tomorrow.'

Her dismay was so acute that she simply sat in morose silence, staring out the window at the softly falling snow.

When Brell's warm hand touched her shoulder, she nearly started in shock. He flashed her an encouraging smile. 'Hey. It won't be so bad. I'll help you. I know all the people you'll need to meet, and I'll go with you. You don't have to do this alone.'

'Thank you for your help. I really am grateful,' she said, squelching irrational thoughts about how she wanted it to be Carth helping her through those social occasions and not Brell. That she was still mooning over him made her feel like the biggest fool ever, but no matter what she tried, she just couldn't seem to stop.

'Anytime.'

Morgana forced herself not to move back, knowing that he was only trying to comfort her. Brell didn't move his hand; he just stared at her, eyes burning with intensity. Awkward silence fell, and Morgana didn't really know what else to do or say. She was desperately trying to think of a way out of the situation when Nabat appeared, scowling at them from the doorway. Her lekku flattened against her neck as she glared at Brell. Brell's shoulders tightened.

'Look who's here again.' Nabat flashed her less-than-friendly smile at Brell; her eyes flickered over Brell's hand. 'Don't you ever go home?'

Morgana used the interruption to move back. Brell scowled and let his hand drop to the table.

Brell spat out, 'Hello, Nabat.'

Knowing what was coming, Morgana scrambled to do some damage control. 'Nabat, please. He's here because I asked him to be.'

That seemed to make her friend even surlier. Her glare shifted from Brell to Morgana. 'Mmm, I know. That doesn't make me very happy with you either.'

Brell crossed his arms over his chest. 'I didn't realize she needed your permission. But then, you've always tried to run her life, haven't you?'

'Someone has to, especially if Ana's going to be a dumbass and get involved with a jerkwad like you again.'

'Why don't you let her make her own choices, instead of bullying her to do what you want?'

'Right,' Nabat snorted. 'Because you've never tried to run her life either. At least I care about her.'

Brell's handsome face twisted in anger. 'And I don't? That's banthashit and you know it!'

Chair legs squeaked against the kitchen floor as Morgana shot to her feet. 'Enough!'

Brell looked like he was about to retort, but decided against it. He rose and snatched his materials up. 'I don't have to take this kind of shit from you.'

Morgana followed him to the front door, but not before throwing a glare in Nabat's direction. 'I'm sorry. She shouldn't treat you like this.'

He shook his head and shrugged his coat on. 'Don't worry about it, I should get going anyway. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?'

'Okay.'

He looked like he might try to touch her again, and Morgana froze. Whatever he was going to do was interrupted by Nabat yelling from the kitchen, 'Yeah, you'd better get out of here before Carth comes around and kicks your ass again.'

Brell's lips curled into a snarl as he walked out the door. Cold air swirled around her, and Morgana shivered as the door slid shut. The second he was gone, Nabat appeared at her shoulder. 'What the hell is wrong with you?

Morgana glared up at her friend. 'What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? He's here helping me put together my appeal and you're being appallingly rude!' Morgana didn't wait for an answer, simply stalking off to the kitchen.

Nabat wouldn't let her get away so easily. Not that Morgana thought she would, but it was still extremely vexing. The Twi'lek fell into step next to her. 'He's not here to help you with your appeal. He's here to get back into your pants. You should thank me for running him off.'

Morgana's face burned so much that she was sure she must be nearly crimson. She snatched up her precious appeal off the table, fully intending to shake Nabat off and escape to her bedroom as soon as possible.

'He's been nothing but kind to me,' she protested, even though a part of her knew that Nabat might have a point.

'Because he wants something.' Nabat leaned against the doorframe, blocking her escape. 'I don't get you, Ana. I don't get how someone so brilliant could be so fracking stupid.' Nabat shook her head, her lekku looping around her neck. 'You won't forgive Carth and you let Brell back into your life.'

'Carth lied to me!' And it still hurt, burning a hole in her heart that she was sure would never heal.

'Maybe he was just worried that you'd freak out and he'd lose you.'

Morgana rubbed her temples. She and Nabat had been going around and around about this for days, ever since Morgana had told her about most, but not all, of the fight. Even though Morgana was sick of arguing, she still felt compelled to defend herself. Besides, it truly stung that her best friend was taking his side. 'Or maybe he lied because he thought it would wreck his chances of getting laid. He had all day to tell me, but he didn't.'

'Right.' Nabat snorted. 'Because he needed to lie to you to get you into bed. It wasn't like the two of you have been hot for each other since the moment you met.'

'I wouldn't have slept with him if I'd known what he'd done!' While that might have been true, the idea that it might not have happened, that she wouldn't have shared that kind of happiness with him, wasn't exactly a comfort either.

Her friend sighed. 'He made a mistake. Carth's a good man. It's obvious to anyone who has eyes that he loves you. He'd make it up to you if you just give him a chance.'

Morgana clenched her appeal to her chest and fought the tears that threatened to come. 'I don't think he'll be back.'

Concern creased Nabat's brow. She crossed the room and pushed Morgana into one of the kitchen chairs. 'I don't think anything could keep that man away. I did some poking around and found out that his squad was called out on duty. That's why he hasn't been around, but he'll come back. You'll see.'

'Not after what I said,' Morgana murmured, unable to meet her friend's eyes.

'Why?' Nabat grabbed her arm. 'What did you say? What didn't you tell me?'

Morgana swallowed, and forced herself to continue and fess up what she hadn't been able to admit to Nabat yet. 'He told me he loved me. I told him that it didn't matter, and that even if he hadn't lied, I should have never been with him in the first place. That I wasted my time on him and lost my grant because of him.'

Nabat just stared at her. It was the first time Morgana had ever seen her friend struck speechless.

Eventually, Nabat shook her head, still staring. 'Oh, Ana. How could you say something like that?'

'I was angry.' Confused by all of the conflicting emotions that tangled in her heart, she desperately grasped the one thing she knew he was wrong about. 'He lied! He got into a fight with Brell, and he didn't understand why I was upset about losing the grant.'

'Maybe he thinks you're so brilliant that you don't need that damn grant. Or maybe he just wants to know that he's as important to you as your work is.'

'Why are you taking his side?'

'Because you're about to ruin the best thing that ever happened to you. Don't you care about him at all?'

'But I... but he...' Morgana's voice trailed off, and she sat in miserable silence until murmuring, 'Yes,' in a voice so quiet that she was surprised that Nabat could hear her.

'Then as much as he owes you an apology, you owe him one back. When he gets back from duty, what are you going to do?'

'I don't know.'

True anger flashed across Nabat's pretty face. 'You're hopeless.' Nabat stood and looked down at Morgana, who realized that Nabat was about to lose her patience with her. 'Just think about this. Both Carth and Brell got into that fight. You're not mad at Brell and completely pissed at Carth. Why do you think that is?'

'Because Carth lied.'

'Stop lying to yourself! It's because you love him and you're too scared to let him get too close because he might screw up your perfect, planned-out life.'

Morgana had never been punched in the gut before, but she was pretty sure it must feel like this. 'That's ridiculous,' she managed to croak.

Nabat's words came out in an angry flood of long-simmering frustration. 'Is it? Everything you do in your life is centered around you and how it fits into your perfect plan for the future. Before he came along, you'd gotten so wrapped up in your plans that you barely made time to do anything outside of them -- even hang out with me. Then this wonderful guy comes along, forcing you to come out and live for a change, forcing you to think about someone other than yourself, and after one bump in the road you want to just throw him away.

'You're a coward, Ana, and if you don't wake the hell up and make room in your life for someone else, you're going to end up miserable and alone. And you'll deserve it!'

With that, Nabat stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving her best friend stunned and in tears at the kitchen table.

---

In the gloom of imminent nightfall, Carth kicked aside the dried-out droppings of some long-gone animal and entered the dank, smelly cave a couple of kilometers north of the lake they'd crashed in.

After the initial shock of Julia's death had worn off, Dustil and Carth had picked themselves off the beach and followed the canyon until they'd found this cave. While it would have been optimal for them to keep moving, they were forced to stop and seek some temporary shelter. As twilight fell, the temperature dropped, and both men, already chilled from the cold lake water, knew they needed to find shelter fast.

Grunting, Carth dropped to the stone floor of the cave and assessed the situation, shoving his grief for his friend and his physical discomfort and exhaustion aside in an effort to focus on what needed to be done next. With the ship sinking into the murky depths of the lake so quickly, they hadn't had the chance to grab their emergency landing gear. They only had what they were wearing when the ship went down: a pair of blasters, a couple of soggy choco bars Dustil had stuffed in his pocket, their wrist comms, and their boot knives.

Carth and Dustil tore their blasters apart quickly, with the experienced hands of men who'd been raised on a backwater colony, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief when the power cells appeared intact. Since there wasn't any wood for a fire, they gathered up several medium-sized rocks, reassembled their blasters and used their blaster fire to heat them up. It was a gamble though; Carth was hoping that the cave's thick rocky walls would hide them from any infrared sensors the enemy might have. But it was either take the chance that they might be found, or risk hypothermia, so shivering, Carth stripped off his boots and socks, laying them out on a warm stone, and used a second warm stone to heat up his bare feet.

It wasn't until they were both huddled over warm rocks that they spoke.

Carth rubbed his hands together, trying to keep the circulation flowing. 'We need a plan.'

'You're damn right we need a plan, because I'm not about to snuggle up to you for warmth. I don't care how cold I get.'

Despite everything, Carth snorted and almost chuckled, but Dustil grew uncharacteristically serious and frowned for a second while he was thinking. 'We should probably stay put. We've missed our last check-in time. If they haven't noticed already, it won't be long before they go to our last check-in coordinates and start looking for us. I'd say we've got about five or six hours before they find the base.'

Carth shifted his weight, trying to get comfortable, an impossible task due to his cold, wet jumpsuit clinging to his body. 'Yeah, but by that time the pirates will have bugged out. They have to know the Fleet is on its way.'

Dustil shrugged. 'There's not a lot we can do about that. We've got to be at least fifteen kilometers away from their base. Even if we could hoof it over there in time, there's not a hell of a lot just the two of us can do.'

Carth fell into brooding silence, hating the fact that Dustil was right at least about the time factor, and hating even more the idea of sitting around and waiting to be rescued as Julia's killers escaped. His brooding was shortly interrupted by a pair of yellow speeder lights glowing on the other side of the canyon. It looked like a small vehicle a short ways off that held maybe two or three people. His hand moved automatically to the blaster at his hip. It had to be some of the pirates either looking for their own men, or coming to finish them off.

A grim smile crossed his face as he flexed his hands into fists. Maybe we should let them find us.

Dustil must have been watching his face because he started to protest before Carth could even say something.

'Oh, no. That's crazy. We're just going to end up getting killed.'

'We need to get to that base. Maybe we can stop them from leaving before the Fleet gets here.'

'What? Just the two of us?'

Carth couldn't help the cocky smirk. 'I can't believe I'm hearing this from the man who bragged nonstop about that last bar fight we were in.'

Dustil glared at him. 'A bar fight is one thing. Fighting well-armed terrorists is another. Besides, they're probably going to bug out soon. We should lay low and wait for the Fleet to get here.'

'They've got several thousand civilian hostages to move in a star system that's crawling with Corellian and Republic warships. It's going to take a while to get them all loaded and wait for an all clear to leave. They wouldn't bother to send someone to make sure we're dead if they were leaving soon. Besides, we haven't seen any transports take off yet. Odds are they're going to be here for at least another hour, maybe even two. That's enough time for us to do something, if we can get their speeder.'

'This is a bad idea,' Dustil said, but Carth knew from his tone of voice that he'd go along with it, if he pushed.

He looked Dustil right in the eye. 'Those bastards killed Julia. If they get away, she'll have died for nothing.'

Dustil looked away, and his voice was soft when he spoke. 'She didn't die for nothing. She died saving us.'

Carth started pulling his mostly dry socks back on his feet. 'And now we need to do this for her.'

Dustil's mouth hardened into a thin, grim line. He nodded slowly, and the two of them began to plan.