Into the Void--Chap 3: Attacked!

Into The Void

Chapter 3: Attacked!

        The rain was a hiss and patter against windows-the sleep tape provided realistic sounds that were supposed to aid in achieving a good night's sleep. Carth lay still for a moment, thinking he was back on Dxun with its infernal rain storms tap-tapping on his helmet. Dxun had been filled with water: drifting fog over the paths; rushing waterfalls and rain. All that water had conspired to conceal mines on the paths; the roar of the falls covered the sound of Mandalorian durasteel boots, and the pelting rain made it impossible to see the wavy outlines their stealth units generated, allowing the Republic soldiers to fall victim to their vicious attacks.

       He had dreamed, but could not remember. Something about a black void...of pale blue eyes. His breathing accelerated, as did his heart.

       Pilots required a disciplined, healthy body. Decisions were made instinctively, at the blink of an eye. Carth still thought of himself as a pilot not an admiral. He would never have taken the promotion except for the promise he made to Revan.

      He placed his fingers over the pulse in his wrist and willed it to level, to calm his emotions. His head was pounding again and he groaned when he slowly opened his eyes. They widened in disbelief.

        Her notes and datapads were scattered on the table. Her bare feet curled around the legs of her chair. She was dressed only in the top half of his sleep wear.

        He closed his eyes, feeling tears burn the edges, seeping through his long lashes. He half rose in the bed and punched his pillow. When he looked back over at the desk she was gone. Now, instead of just dreaming about Revan, he was seeing her! He wondered if he was losing his mind.   

        Cho buckled on her leather belt, hooking on her lightsaber and secured the stealth belt above it. She restrained her hair into one thick braid and left her quarters and made one stop then looked in at Bao-Dur in the mechanics garage.

        "I have something for you. Stopped by the cargo hold and went through the contraband we've collected. I found all the parts you'll need."

        "You mean..."

        "A lightsaber, your lightsaber, is part of you." She gave him a mischievous wink. "Now all you need is a little quiet time with the work bench. I'll be right here to instruct you when it comes to the crystals."

        She leaned against the labyrinth of framework the droids at Peragus had used to repair the ship. She watched Bao as he created his first lightsaber, his muscular body bent over the work bench, his deft hands wielding the power torch. The light bathed his face in a glow similar to his arm.

        "I'm ready...Cho." He still was finding it difficult to say her name.

        She crossed to him and he chose the crystal that would define the color of his saber and she showed him how to install it. "Nice," she commented when he ignited the orange blade. "Let's spar so you can get used to the double-blade. It's trickier to handle than a single blade."

        "You're expecting trouble." He followed her to the cargo hold and watched as she sealed the door.

        "Not on Citadel Station. While we're there I have to talk to Lt. Grenn and let him know Vogga the Hutt agreed to supply fuel."

        She blocked his clumsy, slashing movements with ease. Bao signaled for the match to stop and wiped sweat from his brow. "It feels awkward."

        "You're doing fine," she assured him. "What you lack in finesse, you make up for in the pure, raw power of your strikes."

        He smiled his enigmatic way. "Thanks for the lesson."

        "You don't say it, but I can hear ‘General' and ‘Master', Bao. I am no longer either. I think we should call ourselves Force Warriors because we use both light and dark powers. We are like Revan-we do what is needed to win the war."

        Bao-Dur saluted. "And that is why I follow you."

        Both looked up, realizing the door was open and Atton had sauntered inside. His discerning eye saw Bao's lightsaber and the sharp mind seized on the truth.

        "Another Padawan," he said, offering his hand. "Welcome to the ranks of-what are we calling ourselves now?-Force Warriors?  Catchy." He grinned as Bao shook his hand. "I like it."

        "And?" Cho arched a brow. Atton's talent of being able to enter the room beneath her radar made her edgy. How long had he been standing there? Leave it to a slicer to be able to enter the hold even after she sealed it for privacy.

        "Huh?" Atton looked blank for a second "Oh! We're coming up on Citadel. Just got the docking code-hangar 3-looks like Czerka got boosted off-planet. Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of guys!  Think they plan on giving us a hero's welcome? Fanfare? Drinks? Party?' He snorted. "Yeah, right."

        "Just so long as we don't end up in a cell, right?"

        He chuckled at her joke and returned to the cockpit.

        When the Ebon Hawk touched down in the hangar, Cho announced she wanted everybody to go with her.

        "Bao," she said as they came down the ramp. "I don't want history repeating itself. Rig the entrance so it's secure when we leave the ship."

        Bao nodded, pulled the panel and made a subtle switch in connections. "I will figure out something more permanent when there's time, but this will keep anyone from stealing the Hawk again."

        Cho made eye contact with each of her team in turn. "All I ask is for you not to give details about what happened at Malachor. I got into enough trouble about Peragus. If the TSF and the Republic find out I destroyed another planet, we could end up in a force cage."

        Atton groaned theatrically. "Not again!"

        The others nodded solemnly.

        "All right, let's go meet with Admiral Onasi, and check on Mandalore and his party. Since it's illegal to land on Telos's surface we may need the admiral's intervention."

        She crossed to the hangar bay computer and opened the outer door to the shuttle bay. Admiral Onasi, Lt. Grenn, Mandalore, Visas, and Mical stood in the doorway.

        "It's good to see you again," Admiral Onasi said in his husky voice. "I was worried."

        "You ever do that again,' Mandalore spoke up, and his anger was evident. "You ever go off without backup and I'll kill you myself!"

        Carth stiffened and his brown eyes narrowed as he stared at the Mandalorian. "Canderous? Is that you?"

        For a moment Mandalore ignored all the intent looks directed his way, and then he sighed. "Yeah, what if it is? I'm Mandalore now."

        Carth seemed uneasy as if he did not know what to say or how to react. Fresh memories of Dxun still remained and to see a Mandalorian warrior in full armor put his hackles up.

        Cho glanced from Onasi to Mandalore. "You two know each other?'

        "I have nothing to hide, do you?" Carth's attention was diverted to Cho when she cleared her throat. "We served with Revan. We were with her when she found the Star Forge and fought Malak. They called us heroes-saviors of the Republic."

        Mandalore made a disgusted noise. "Yeah, for the first year and then our great deed was forgotten-swept under the cargo ramp."

        "It wasn't like that, Canderous."

        Mandalore's glare at Carth could be felt even through his helmet. "For a decorated war hero maybe-but not for a Mandalorian past his prime."     

        "Stop!" Cho said, insinuating herself between the two men. "I had a vision of Revan. She wants us to find her. The message at first was hard to understand. She is very far away and only someone with her power could project herse---"

        Carth interrupted incredulously. "You saw her? I...I thought I saw her myself-this morning. And-and there have been other times, too--- when I wake up reaching for---." He let the words trail off into a sigh.

        "With her command of the Force, Revan can project her astral self to us for short periods of time."

        A wide grin spread over Carth's face. "I'll be damned! I'm not going crazy!"  He fished out his comlink and contacted the medical center on Module 082. "Doc, it's Admiral Onasi-uh, I won't need that neural scan after all."  When he felt all eyes on him, he shrugged. "Don't ask.'

        "Revan said you and T-3 could help," Cho said, pulling him back to their conversation. She frowned at him. "What did she mean?"

        "T-3, play the holovid," Carth instructed softly.

        The little droid beeped and hooted. A holovid appeared, showing Carth.

        "She's going to leave and go off on her own. I know it..." When the message ended, Carth's face reddened as all eyes fixed on him.

        "So, the ship and the droids belong to Revan." Cho blew out a silent whistle. "HK-47?"

        Carth nodded. "Revan's personal assassination droid. She built it when she was still with the Sith."

        "I should have guessed." Cho smiled. "When I served with her in the Mandalorian Wars she would use the term ‘meatbag', and then laugh as if it were some secret joke."

        "Okay, so you sent that little trash compactor to watch over Revan," Atton spoke up. "That still doesn't tell us where she went." He knocked the top of T-3's dome. "Any coordinates in there, huh?"
        "The navicomputer is voice-locked." Cho gave Carth a knowing look. "Your doing?"

        He nodded. "I knew Revan was going to take off on her own." He gestured energetically with both hands. "I just didn't know when.  I programmed the navicomputer, with T-3's help, to hold all data concerning her destination."

        "Without her knowledge."

        Carth's eyes held no apology. "She would have stopped me had she known. It was the only way to trace her." His gestures grew even more vehemenent. "To find her!"

        "Tell me more about this so-called vision," Mandalore said, cutting to the core of the matter.

        "All I know for certain is we need to find Revan's friends-her crew on the Hawk. They will play a major role in locating her." Cho's gaze switched back to the admiral.

        "Well, three of us are already here." He stated.

        "How many more?"

        Carth nodded at Cho and ticked off on his fingers: "Jolee Bindo, Juhani, Bastila Shan, Zaalbar, Mission, Canderous, HK, T3, and me. We're short six." He held up two fingers. "Jolee and Juhani contacted me and are on their way here. He told me Mission and Zaalbar sent a hologram from Kashyyyk. They are waiting for a supplies transport to bring them here. Mission said they're going to visit the star map in the Lower Shadowlands. Seems they checked the entrance recently and it was out of commission so they can pass through without needing Jolee present. She and Zaabar also dreamed about Revan."

        "What are we supposed to be looking for? Any of these visions show that?"

        Cho leveled an exasperated look at Mandalore. "Revan, Malak and I went to the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine and, even then, she had an amazing ability to astral-project through the Force."

        "And none of that answered my question," Mandalore persisted.

        "I am explaining!" Cho closed her eyes a moment and seemed to chant something in her head. "I had enough to answer for because of Malachor-"

        "I was there and you have nothing to apologize for, dammit!" Mandalore thundered. "I respect you as I did Revan for her victory against us. Do not diminish the glory of battle."

        Carth rolled his eyes. "Gimme a hand here, Canderous. You still tell yourself that so you can sleep at night?"

        "You think you know me, Carth, but you don't. If the Republic knew-"He cut himself off sharply.

        Cho smacked one fist into her open palm, startling them all.

        "Stop it!" she hissed. "We need to work together on this. I don't care what motives you want to attach to this mission: love, loyalty, revenge. We have to find Revan. We have to unite against an enemy of terrible power!"

        They all fell silent.

        Cho rubbed her hands together. "All right," she continued. "Visas-Mical, go to the merchant and stock up on food and supplies. Mandalore-Atton, check our weapons. I want major fire power." She raised a hand. "Wait. Atton, stow that-instead take T-3 and do a thorough engines check. Figure out what needs to be repaired. Bao, considering the damage the Hawk took; you work on this, too. Grenn, I hope we can count on your techs to help with repairs."

        He nodded. Before they had docked she had told him about another source of fuel for the station, so he was glad to be given the chance to aid her in any way.

        "Mira, scout us up some clothes so we can blend-no Jedi robes-roomy enough to conceal our lightsabers. Admiral, give her your size." She turned to the Mandalorian who was still glowering behind his helmet. She could feel his anger. "Mandalore, can you lose the armor? I don't want any attention drawn to us." She gestured. "All right, everybody meet back at the hangar. I'll be there overseeing the repairs. If you run into any trouble use your comlinks."

        "Admiral," she said, crooking a finger at him. "I will need you to unlock the navicomputer so we can find out where we need to go."

        Carth accompanied her to the hangar. He shook his head sadly when he saw all the damage that had been done. He laid a gloved hand on the portside mandible-it was pocked and scarred, the metal ripped back as if a giant hand had caught hold and sought to tear the ship apart from stem to stern.

        "What did this?" he gasped.

        "Malachor's storms and the effects from the Mass Shadow Generator," she said shortly. She hated to talk about this particular topic. Realizing how abrupt she sounded, she added, "T-3 told me about Rakata Prime, sir, and the effects of the generator shielding the planet that made the Hawk crash. Imagine that magnified a thousand times and that describes Malachor."

        "Sounds like you were lucky to make it back," he remarked, following her into the bowels of the ship.

        Atton and T-3 moved so he could access the navicomputer. "I.D. R.R. 215D Carth Onasi," he stated in clear, precise tones.

        There was a low hum from the console and then a low-pitched beeping. The screen lit up then went blank.

        "That can't be good,"Atton said, his enjoyment of the Admiral's consternation evident by the smirk on his face.

        "Dwoooo," T-3 wailed.

        "That should have worked." Carth scowled. "T-3, what's wrong?"

        The little astromech launched into a series of hoots and whistles and its top whirled around.

        "I knew it!" Atton declared. "The little garbage bin sabotaged it!"

        T-3 screeched, asserting his innocence. Cho raised a placating hand.

        "Atris tried to access the navicomputer and downloaded what was in T-3's memory core when she had the Hawk in her possession. She may be behind this."

        "Atris," Carth said and it was not a question.

        "She was on the Jedi Council that exiled me," Cho explained, and then her discerning gaze traveled from Carth to Mical. "But you already know that. Mical told you."

        "Master, I!" Mical's pale face was a deep crimson. "You knew I was a spy for the Republic. I...told you."

        Cho rubbed her forehead as if she was erasing something on her skin. "That is not important. It just makes some things a little clearer for me." She smiled at Carth. "Atris was the one who contacted you-that's why the ship I was on was headed for Telos. She manipulated us both, sir."

       Atton growled and tugged at the fingerless gloves he always wore. "Don't tell me we have to go see the Ice Queen again."

        Cho dejectedly explained what had happened to Atris-how she had fallen to the dark side and how Atris had killed all the Handmaidens.

       "She dead?" Trust Atton to ask that question.

       "No, I spared her. She may still be there." She told them about the Sith holocrons and Jedi artifacts Atris had been hoarding.

        "If she was in close proximity to Sith holocrons, it is understandable why she would fall." Visas spoke for the first time. "One Sith holocron would broadcast the dark side of the Force and influence the Jedi, a push towards the dark. A room full of them would destroy the mind-twist and pervert. She was doomed the moment she began collecting them."

        Cho retreated to the garage and had a private conversation with Bao before she left the ship. She talked to Lt. Grenn, asking another favor. She needed a transport to go to Nar Shaddaa and pick up her protocol droid. Was there something he could do? Could he pull in a favor?

       Grenn's voice over the comlink, sounded unsure, but he said he would do his best and keep her updated.

Zherron fooled with the fuel flow meter, until the Pylat was flying right and her engines sounded right. He then turned control over to the ship's auto-pilot, took a bearing and noted the time in his personal datapad.

      A new bird-even second-hand new-meant hunting for the optimum relationship between fuel consumption and distance. The ship was speeding through hyperspace. Her path was straight-her engines ran sweetly in sync.

      Zherron took the pilot's seat, his chin propped on one hand, and his eyes set on the control panels. He was a hands-on man-hard and unswerving-that was the talk in the ranks of the Khoonda Militia. His mouth curled in a non-humorous smile. He agreed with his men's assessment.

 Born on Naboo's moon Ohma-D'un, Zherron worked as a mechanic and enforcer for the colonists. The discovery of a valuable ore on the surface of the moon had brought the Republic into the equation. They built an outpost and mining operation.

 Zherron's parents had died when one of the caves collapsed. He was two and was taken in by his grandfather, an inflexible man appropriately called Flint who told him men did not cry-ever. He had never cried since. Flint had raised him to be practical and a loner and be suspicious of everything and everyone. It was his trade mark-there was always some ulterior motive.

     Except with her, he mused, remembering the Jedi who had come to Khoonda and been so instrumental in the battle against the mercenaries.

 He had asked Terena for this mission. Since the skirmishes with the mercenaries had ended with the death of their leader Azkul, Zherron had become bored. He realized he was looking forward to seeing Cho Talis again.

    She had worn short, scuffed boots and a tan tunic over brown pants. She almost looked like one of the scavengers and he had thought seriously about throwing her out of his office and then he had seen beyond the beautiful façade: past the slender delicacy of her face-her dark, sparkling eyes-the shape of her ears-the uplifted corners of her mouth-the elegance of her throat and from there on down there had been no doubt in his mind-she was no scavenger. She was all woman.

 He recalled a past that had brought him to Dantooine, running a thumb over a scar on his chin.

 He had flown cargo for the moon base for several years, starting in his early teens. He was twenty-one when the Republic Navy recruited him. His main duty was to provide protection for the ore convoys, heading up a hardened squadron of crack pilots called Moonies. Eventually he landed a commission on one of the Republic cruisers. He fought in the Mandalorian Wars, but asked to be transferred at the beginning of the Jedi Civil War. It was one thing to fight the murdering destroyers of Mandalore, but for brother to fight brother? Even his armor-encased soul winced at that.

 He landed a job on Khoonda after Malak razed the Jedi Enclave. His superior officer recommended him to the administrator Terena Adare. He had visited the planet Naboo when he was young. Naboo was always ruled by a queen. Zherron, even though he lived on the moon, knew of the planet's culture and statutes. He possessed a deep respect for women in a place of power. That is why he got along with Terena

    "Day dreaming again, lad?" Jolee took the passenger seat.

    Zherron had come to like the gruff old man in the short stint he had been on Dantooine participating in the re-build of the Enclave. He ran his hands through his pre-mature grey hair. It's bristly, military cut provided no resistance.

    "Just wondering what Miss Talis needs us for. She's very capable."

    "Never met her, so I wouldn't know, sonny. Heard of her, of course, especially her part at Malachor." He shook his head. "Travesty. All that unnecessary killing, I mean."

    "But you knew Revan?"

    Jolee spotted a stain on his robe and glared at it as if it offended him. "Do I ask you about your past?" he said brusquely. He stared out into the whirling vortex of hyperspace for a moment and then sighed heavily. "Revan is a sore subject with me."

    "I didn't mean to pry." Zherron turned back to his instruments panel.

    "It's not something I feel like discussing. I don't know you well enough yet."

    Zherron could understand that. He was the same way. Trust came hard to him.

    "We're coming out of hyperspace," Zherron advised.

    "What's that flashing?" Juhani asked as she entered the cockpit.

    The blurred lines of hyperspace sharpened and then there was the black vacuum of space as the ship's hyper drive shut off and the Pylat seemed to stop and float in a sea of stars.

    Zherron knew it was an illusion, but it was beautiful.

    "All right, enough taking in the view," Jolee said grumpily. "Where's Citadel Station?"

    "Is that Telos?" Juhani pointed to the starboard view port. "I have heard of it of course-from Carth."

    She moved so she could gaze down at the planet as they flew over its surface. "It is the same as was done to Taris." Grief laced her words. "The Sith will always have much to answer for."

    Jolee rose and joined her. "Don't let your anger get the better of you, my dear. Restoration is being done here. Taris may get its turn some day. Telos is the prototype. If the Ithorians succeed here, other worlds that were decimated will be given a second chance."

    Suddenly, klaxons blared and the amber lights flashed to red on the control console.

    "Sith fighter!" Jolee exclaimed, leaning over the instrumentation. "Seen enough of them in my life time to know."

    "So close to Citadel Station?" Zherron said, confounded. He stabbed a finger at another blip on the tracking screen. "There's another! Either one of you Jedi know how to shoot a turret laser?"

    "I will," Juhani volunteered, and raced away.

    "There's another one." Jolee gazed at the screen and frowned. "No life forms aboard. Better contact the TSF, sonny. Tell them we're being attacked by Sith drone ships!"

    Zherron shook his head. "Transmissions are being jammed. I've got the shields at full."

    The first blast struck the ship's port side, battering the small freighter. It shook the occupants half way out of their seats.

    Zherron stared at the tracking screen, seeing red Doppler streaks fan out from the green blip representing the Pylat, and one of the red blips disappeared as Juhani blew up its engine block.

    He turned to Jolee, his face grim-his eyes bleak. "Ship's not responding. Gauges are going dark."

    "After just one hit-with our shields up?" Jolee was astonished. "How is that possible?"

    "At the beginning of the Jedi Civil War, when Revan returned with an armada, there were the huge Interdictor ships and bulk cruisers, but what did the most damage to the Republic's Navy were drone fighters. They were unbelievably fast and maneuverable and equipped with some kind of disruptor field that caused a complete overload on all our ships' systems."

    Zherron frantically flipped some switches on the control panel as light after light winked out. "First, our weapons were disabled, leaving us defenseless-next, life support." He sucked on his lower lip. "One shot was all it took." His fingers hovered over another switch for a moment, and then his hand fell limply onto his thigh. "I can't even switch to auxiliary power. Engine's shutting down. Flight path's decaying." He locked his stern gaze on Jolee. "Better tell your Jedi friend to go to her quarters and manually seal the door. Both of you will need to strap yourselves down on your bunks. Go! Now!"

    There was an eerie silence in the cockpit. All the clicks and pings of a healthy ship were silent. The only sound was the clacking of Jolee's boots as he followed Zherron's orders.

    The ship lurched and dipped at a crazy angle and Zherron was forced back into his seat. He would not be able to make it to his quarters. He did the next best thing by strapping himself into the seat, adding extra lashings about his upper torso, then buckling the seat belt. At the rate the ship's speed was accelerating, he knew the precautions probably would not be enough.

    The Pylat was going down-she was going down hot. He closed his eyes and waited for the impact.