The day had dawned clear and sunny after a night of storms on Ketaris. Living on the outskirts of the capital, Kyara Thonlin awoke that morning to the sounds of bird singing in the trees and the sweet smell of spring blossoms wafting in her window. She woke up smiling; knowing that today was most certainly going to be a good day. How could it not be? The sun was shining, the birds were singing; with the morning cool still clinging to the air before the heat of the day set in. Standing on her front porch, Kyara Thonlin smiled. It was going to be a wonderful day on Ketaris – a wonderful day indeed.
Indiana Bridger roused herself early that morning, to go after the latest intelligence reports on Ketaris before the actual drop was scheduled to take place. Her body was sore and she still felt tired – a sure sign she’d not slept well the night before.
Of course I didn’t sleep well last night, she thought ruefully. I was caught up in a lot of emotion that I just can’t spare the time to handle right now. By rights, I shouldn’t have even been thinking about all that last night...but one must go into these things clear-headed, right? Hopefully that’s all out of my system now. It’d better be. I don’t have time to dwell on the things I can’t change.
Smothering a yawn behind her hand, she headed for the mess hall, where she knew caf would be readily available – whether it was to brew herself or not was immaterial. There would be caf, and she would either make it and drink it or just drink it. Luckily, she’d risen around he same time that the alpha-shift bridge crew was getting ready to go on, so the caf was running hot and strong – and in rivers – in the mess hall. Indy gave a smile and nod to some of those she knew, including the ship’s first officer, Marea Tyman.
Marea smiled as Indy nodded to her. “G’mornin’ Admiral. How’re you t’day?”
Indy poured herself a mug of caf. “Best that can be expected, Rea. You just getting off?”
“No ma’am,” Marea said with a broad smile, “Cap’n Henderson thought it might be nice for me t’take the shift t’day so I get some exp’rience with drop procedures as a commandin’ officer.”
Indy nodded thoughtfully. Which means that Jim took the late shift instead of the daytime and is probably getting ready to crawl into his bunk for some rack time. Inwardly, she grimaced, suspecting that Jim Henderson, as he was sometimes wont to do, had pulled one of his 24-on/12-off shifts – twenty four hours on the bridge, so that morning his first officer could get more experience, so she could advance her own career. After her shift, he’d be back on again, hopefully after having spent most of the twelve hours he was off-duty in his cabin, fast asleep.
She glanced at Marea. “Well, then, Commander, are we going to make it on time?”
The other woman smiled. “Right on schedule, ma’am. Flight ops will be on-call in the next fifteen or so.”
“Very good. Carry on.” Indy walked off, her mug of caf in her hand. She’ll make a good commander someday, she thought of Marea. I’ll be proud to write a recommendation for her when she angles for her first command. Very proud indeed. It’ll be a shame when the fleet loses her – a real crying shame. Indy knew Marea Tyman’s story. The woman had originally been the helmsman of the Aurora Force’s original flagship, Imladris. From there, she’d steadily climbed through the ranks to her current position. She’d been a veteran of the New Republic even before Indy had joined up, years before.
A rueful smile touched the lips of the young officer as she walked toward the quiet room that on any other Republic Star Destroyer would house the Intelligence division for that ship. I’m getting old, she thought to herself, keying in the code for the door. The door came open with a quiet noise, and Indy slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. The room, dimly lit by he glow of computer screens, was empty, although Indy spied something sitting on the low work table sitting near the couch where more than one officer had spent a few hours, napping. The square box sitting there was white, with a note on a piece of flimsiplast taped to it.
Figured you’d come to work without eating. Enjoy them. ~ Karri
Indy flipped open the box and began to laugh. She reached inside and picked up a donut, a jelly-filled one, out of he box. “Oh, Karri,” she sighed. “How did you know?”
Izra Dargan had been having the most wonderful dream. The most wonderful dream indeed. Not because it was necessarily a happy dream – in fact, when the events his mind was bringing to him in dream form were not entirely pleasant – but because she was in it.
He lifted his hand weakly and put it on her face. “I love you,” he whispered. She smiled, her hand covering his. And then it faded, and started again.
It had been in a barn on Anoat III, after their escape from Hoth. The Remember Derra IV had crashed, leaving the crew, himself, and he medic assigned to him, Kail Lanning, stranded until they could fix the ship.
He lifted his hand weakly and put it on her face. “I love you,” he whispered. She smiled, her hand covering his.
The dream/memory started over again another time, this time with an added sound, a buzzing, beeping sound that sounded not too terribly different from the proximity alarms going off aboard the Remember Derra IV as they were crashing...but why would it be going off while they were in the barn? The ship was shut down, below the loft where they were.
He lifted his hand weakly and put it on her face. “I love you,” he whispered. She smiled, her hand covering his.
…beep...beep...beep...beep...
It started over again.
He lifted his hand weakly and put it on her face. “I love you,” he whispered. She smiled, her hand covering his.
…beep...beep...beep...beep...
And again.
He lifted his hand weakly and put it on her face. “I love you,” he whispered. She smiled, her hand covering his.
…beep...beep...beep...beep...
After the third repetition, he realized it wasn’t the proximity alarms. It was his alarm clock. His alarm clock, telling him it was 0530, and time to get up.
He threw it at the wall and rolled over to go back to sleep.
Kyara Thonlin walked down the sidewalks toward work. The birds were singing and the damp of the previous night’s rain was starting to burn off. Yes, she thought firmly. It will be a beautiful day.
Karrially Darjinn had planned to get up early that morning, to help her sister-in-law go over the latest intelligence on Ketaris, and the overall situation in the galaxy. They’d make a pot of caf, sit and eat the donuts she’d left in the Intel room, and process data.
Of course, that’s what she’d planned.
Sometimes, though, an infant apparently plagued by nightmares changes plans. She and her husband, upon whose chest and shoulder her head was resting, had been up most of the night, trying to calm down Ashlyn before she woke up their neighbors – Alisa Galen, the 58TH’s medic on one side, and Wil Scarlet and Robyn Hoode on the other. She hoped they’d been successful.
And when she’d gotten to sleep at 0459 that morning, Karrially had decided ‘to hell with my plans.’ She was going to sleep.
And so she wasn’t there when that last piece of information came in from Silent Eyes. That one, last, tiny piece. The tiny piece that might have, just might have, been the most important piece of all.
Indy didn’t notice the blinking light on one of the computer consoles in the intelligence room, even though she spent four of the five hours before drop in that room, going over the latest reports. She studied the latest troop movements, on Ketaris and elsewhere, the status of the New Republic fleet – her usual morning self-briefing on the galactic state of affairs, such as it was. For a few moments, her mind drifted from the Intelligence in front of her to intelligence she wished she had, intelligence she’d sent the two finest Intelligence officers she knew after.
May the Force be with you, Tag, Jaq. I know you’ll find him. He’s out there somewhere.
She glanced at her wrist chrono. I need to get to the hangar soon. It’s almost time. She polished off her mug of caf and headed out, closing the door. The only sign of activity in the room was a silently flashing green light on one of the consoles. One new message, attention Karrially Darjinn. Urgent. From Silent Eyes.
It was a missed communication that caused unending guilt, on both ends, for years to come.
When he realized he was running late, Izra threw himself out of bed, cursing. Looking at his dented wall and more dented alarm clock, he wondered what he’d done to it – and why. 0530 wasn’t really that early, was it?
Of course it is, his inner voice admonished him snippily. Anytime before noon is early.
“Shut up,” Izra growled at the inner voice, quickly stripping out of his nightclothes and walking into a shower. He turned it on cold, first, to give him an extra kick, and then turned it on hot and got cleaned up. He was pulling on his flight suit as he walked out the door of the ‘fresher, zipping it up most of the way over the steel gray tank top he commonly wore beneath it. For a moment, his hand closed over his identification tags, but then he needed it again, to fasten on his gunbelt, to slide a vibroblade home into a boot sheath, to grab a last few things and drop them into pockets or pouches.
The night before, he’d recorded a message and sent it to his niece, with a request to pass it on to Mara if he didn’t make it. Mara, his fiancée. Mara, who he loved beyond his own life. Mara, whom he hoped against hope that he would get to see again.
You’ll see her again, he promised himself. I’ll hold her in my arms, and kiss her, and –
Enough, flyboy! You’ll be late.
Izra glanced at his wrist chrono, cursed, and darted down the hall.
“Commander?”
Marea glanced down at the alpha shift communications officer. “What is it?”
“We have a priority one communiqué here attention to Admiral Bridger, ma’am. Should I dispatch someone to get it down to her?”
Marea frowned. Priority one? That’s pretty serious stuff. “Aye, do it. She should be in the hangar. Helm, what’s our ETA?”
“T minus three minutes thirty seconds, ma’am.”
Marea nodded and stared at the swirling of hyperspace through the main windows on the bridge. Perhaps, had she known what was coming, she would have done things differently. But, not realizing that this was more than routine, the commander stood there, marveling at the colors of hyperspace, excitement regarding her first drop bubbling up inside of her.
Little did she know how close it would come to being her last.
Indy finished double-checking the last of the specialized components she’d had installed into the A-wing she’d be bringing down to the surface. Looking good. Maybe this will actually go according to plan. The cold ball of dread in her stomach denied her optimistic thought’s veracity, though, but she chose, for the moment, to ignore it. Better to go into a situation with a positive outlook, rather than assuming based on my gut that everything’s going to go to shit.
Although if it does go to shit, I suppose that’s in keeping with the rest of my life.
“Coming through!” A crashing noise sounded behind her as Izra ran, full-tilt, into a tech, whose toolbox and tools went flying in twenty different directions. Izra’s face reddened. “Sorry about that.” He helped the annoyed tech to his feet and then jogged toward Indy, who was already in a gray flight suit. “Ready to go, Admiral?”
Indy nodded. “Just about. Where are your wings?”
There was another crashing sound as that same poor tech got plowed over by two cadets who were as late as their commander. Indy couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. Poor guy. It’s just not his day.
The cadets – Sidro and Kafec, Indy was fairly certain – made their way over to her A-wing, where she was crouched on one sleek wing, speaking with Izra standing below her on the deck. Sidro was the one who spoke. “Sorry about being late, Major, Admiral. Won’t happen again.”
“Just load up, gentlemen, and stay sharp. This isn’t exactly going to be a pleasure cruise.” Indy straightened and started to head back up toward her cockpit when she heard another crash – although instead of the tech and his toolbox going flying, it was a young enlistedman from the bridge. The enlistedman rubbed his head as he scrambled to his feet, making a beeline toward Indy, a piece of flimsiplast in his hand.
“Ma’am! Ma’am, this is a priority one communication that came in for you just a few minutes ago.”
Indy frowned, taking the flimsi from him and starting to read it. She barely got halfway through it before she grabbed her commlink. “Bridge, drop of out hyperspace imm – ”
The ship shuddered with a sudden impact. Indy barely caught herself, snagging a hand on the rim of her cockpit in order to prevent herself from tumbling to the floor. The cold, sinking feeling that had lived in her gut for so long just got worse.
It was already too late.
Marea picked herself up off the floor, wincing as she touched the large bump on her head that was thanks to her impact with the forward viewport. “Shields up! What the hell was that?”
“Ma’am,” an unsteady voice said from catwalk, “I think it was that.”
Marea turned back toward the forward viewport and turned pale.
The flagship of the Aurora Force exited hyperspace precisely where Alec had planned for it to be- though it admittedly did so with the help of one of Alec's Interdictor cruisers, the Wasteland. The precisely calculated placement of the ship made it possible for Alec's fleet to be positioned in a perfect entrapment position. The only problem Alec noted was the vessels orientation. Relative to the Ancalagon the Dashan was upside down. Alec had made contingencies in his arrangement for the Dashan's possible attitude but it was still an annoyance. Now instead of having his Victory Star Destroyer Warseeker aligned at the Dashan's hanger, he had his Dreadnaught Juggernaught.
Of course, that does leave the Warseeker with a perfect shot at the bridge. Alec thought.
"Captain Keller, all ships, open fire in thirty seconds or on my first order. Communications, open a channel to the Dashan, full vid." Alec stepped up to the holocam just as it clicked on and crossed his arms over his chest. He recognized the Commander who answered his hail but forced aside anything he might have known about her--any connection he had to the AF needed to be severed. All he saw before him was an enemy.
"Commander, I won't waste any of your time with banter or requests for surrender--I know neither will get me anywhere with you or your superiors. I merely wished to let you know who is about to destroy Aurora Force--for the good of the galaxy and all of its peoples. To any who survive, I pray you will someday realize that tough choices must be made and some people must accept the mantles of the villain for a time. Lt. Colonel Alec Jaggers, Imperial Commander of Ketaris, out." The commline clicked off and, as preordered, Alec's fleet opened fire.
His command ship, the ISD-II Ancalagon blasted the Dashan with a full broadsides to the bow and the Warseeker unleashed a similarly devastating salvo at the Dashan's top. From under her belly, the Juggernaught opened fire with all of her bow guns directly into the Dashan's hangar bay, which was already beginning to disgorge fighters and shuttles. Alec forced his face to remain placid as he watched the destruction wrought by the Dreadnaught's heavy turbolasers.
Refusing to turn away from the deaths of those he had long considered friends and comrades-in-arms, Alec watched stone-faced as he drove the first few nails into Aurora Force's coffin.
Kyara Thonlin stopped to look at the sky when she saw her immediate supervisor standing outside, staring up at something. “Corie? What’s going on?”
“Look at the lights, Kya. Look at them. Fireworks in the daytime.”