Subject: [OTL]: (alt. Betsy/Star Wars) Fanged Butterfly 2: Knightcross 18/? (R; violence From: Phil Hartman Date: Wed, 26 Mar 2008 04:23:17 +0000 wil-@earthling.net Fanged Butterfly Vol. 2: Knightcross Chapter 18 by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: Marvel's are Marvel's. LFL's are LFL's. Any original characters are mine. The rest belong to their owners/creators. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. WARNING: Violence, mature themes and GRAPHIC imagery. -------------------------------------------------- 40 ABY: Charbi Spaceport, Vulpter: -------------------------------------------------- Janek Sunber shook his head, still amazed at the change in his old friend. The Luke Skywalker he knew from Tatooine - from the Rebellion, when they'd been on opposite sides - would've charged into action. The week in hyperspace, however, had convinced Sunber that Wormie had left the Jedi Master. Luke had been so ... CALM. Or maybe not, given some of the language the Jedi Master had used when they'd heard the HNE comm traffic coming out of Coruscant about police actions at the Temple. But Luke had grimly focused himself on meditating, later saying, "I promised Mara I'd bring Ben home. He'll be on Vulpter soon, and he'll need me. And I've been too hands-on with the Order for too long. I need to trust they'll do the right thing." "Aren't you being too patient?" Sunber had asked, watching Luke walk toward customs under an assumed name and wearing plain coveralls. Luke just smiled. "I've been TOO patient, old friend. Too detail-oriented, too caught up in the little things," he called, waving farewell. Sunber just shook his head, then checked the pre-flight sequence. Same old Wormie. NEVER made any sense. --------------------------------------------------- Jedi Temple: Coruscant: --------------------------------------------------- They were just about ready to start with the turbolasers, when the front door opened. Heol Girdun waved the front wave of GAG shocktroopers - he hated the term, but things had been getting ... Imperial ... for weeks now - back, as the night was lit up by multiple bars of color amidst the entrance to the Temple. Purple. Blue-black. Yellow. #Shavit ...# Girdun thought; Shevu or Wirut would've been better suited to leading this kind of work. He was an Intel spook. Loud, bright things bothered him. Lightsabers fit that definition. "Soldiers of the Galactic Alliance Guard. You're engaged in an unlawful occupation and assault of the Jedi Temple. We do not consider ourselves above the law, but neither will we knuckle under to unjust actions by a rogue authority," a voice - a voice NOBODY in the GA could fail to know - rang. A hooded figure holding a purple lightsaber aloft lead a march of 20 adult sentients, all with various-colored lightsabers, down the stairs, stopping halfway. And Anakin Solo tossed his hood back, meeting Girdun's gaze with ... determination. Pity. Defiance. It was so ESSENTIALLY Corellian that Girdun's hackles rose. Worse, it was so ESSENTIALLY HAN SOLO that Girdun gulped. "Those who leave now keep their lives and possibly their limbs. Those who attack us ... face our defense," Solo said. "Colonel Solo - the LEGAL authority - ordered us to secure this facility, Knight Solo. YOU stand down, and you won't be mistreated in custody," Girdun managed to snap. Anakin's eyes narrowed as he replied, "I wonder if Ben Skywalker can say the same." THAT got Girdun - "Lieutenant Skywalker's safe with the Colonel! Your family are the ones who turned their backs on the law!" the Intel captain spat. "Safe. Ailyn Vel was `safe.' I have serious doubts about your ability to keep ANYONE safe," Solo replied, all calm. It was so Jedi and yet so utterly Solo that Girdun almost lost focus - the dichotomy was so VAST - "Present arms! You HAD your chance, Solo. Just like back on the picket line, you've made the wrong choice," Girdun spat, as his troops took aim. "From a certain point of view," Solo said, suddenly sad. And everything became blasterfire, screams and hums. --------------------------------------------------- Ossus: Jedi Praxeum: --------------------------------------------------- The Force was almost unfair to cretins like Serpa, Jaina thought. If he'd been smart, he would've brought ysalamiri. It was just another sign that Jacen was slipping in who he entrusted his dirty business to. A few Force-flickers between her, Kam and Tahiri - experienced-enough Jedi could read empathic messages as clearly as Betsy's telepathy - had set up the timing. A few more Force-probes of the GAG guards had revealed that almost none of them wanted to shoot children. They were revolted by Serpa, and deserved to be restrained without harm. Which left the snipers seeded into each squad ... the ones left over from Force knew what cold-blooded shadow-ops units people like Dif Scaur and the Imperial era fostered. Jaina shrugged at her probably unfair assessment of Scaur; he'd wanted to win the Vong War. But salting the ground wasn't the way. And that was hardly a "soft-hearted" Jedi assessment of Alpha Red. Anyone who accused Jaina of being soft-hearted had NO idea of the whole "Sword of the Jedi" business. But swords lost their threat level if waved around. So it was time for a normal lunch, pretending there were no morally challenged assassins hiding among guilt-riddled kid soldiers stationed at the entrances to the cafeteria. Her comlink blinked with a familiar code, and her heart clenched - it COULDN'T be - "NO!" Tionne sobbed - Kam was holding her, and the Force suddenly filled with a disturbance - Jaina reached for Anakin, finding him totally focused in combat, the Coruscant temple burning around him. And Serpa looked like a child in a ryshcate factory. The students were too disciplined to whisper overtly, but the younger ones shivered, and the older Padawans comforted them. Which left the sudden entrance of a series of amphistaffs somewhat ... unnoticed. Until the ophidians slithered around the snipers' ankles, dropping them, and Jag and Zekk held blaster or lightsaber - recovered from the safe in Kam's office - to Serpa's throat. "You DARE -" Serpa began, but Jaina had had QUITE enough. She Force-yanked Serpa's weapon to her hand, then stomped over to him and said clearly, "Major. Obviously, you're incompetent. And since I never actually filed my retirement papers with the GA Navy, I'm assuming emergency command of this guard detail." "Wh - you CAN'T -" Serpa spat, and everyone went quiet. "Yes, I can. I recall General Order 1-A-7.4 - something about fitness to command? It starts with keeping one's uniform in order, and since I still HAVE my boots, and you don't ... well. Lieutenant - Gorbit, is it?" Jaina asked Serpa's aide, a terribly young human man with annoyingly short blond hair who ran over to her. "Yes'm," Gorbit replied, sparing Serpa a brief look of disgust - the kid had felt decent through the Force, and he'd been outraged when Serpa had been about to order the massacre everybody had been fearing. "I assume you find the ... contingency plan which Major Serpa hinted at to be morally and militarily unnecessary? To be immoral orders?" Jaina asked. Gorbit looked nervous until Jaina continued, "Permission granted to speak freely, Gorbit. The colonel IS my brother, even if he's a shavit-head." "... Yes'm. With all due respect, Major, these are children and their teachers we're holding hostage. We're supposed to be better than the Empire. I have to ask you to turn over command before something horrible happens," Gorbit insisted to Serpa. "You - Alderaan DESERVED it, you schutta! YOU HEAR ME!? YOUR BLOODSTRIPE-KRIFFING MOTHER'S HOMEWORLD *DESERVED* IT!" Serpa ROARED at Jaina - He blacked out when a thud bug bounced off of his temple, and Tahiri giggled from the kitchen, as the kids cheered. "Thanks, `Hiri," Jaina laughed, before shaking Gorbit's hand. "Lieutenant, I apologize, but -" "None needed, ma'am. Serpa's a monster. Why the colonel promoted him to command this mission is beyond us. None of us would've pulled the trigger, I promise," Gorbit said, sounding disillusioned as Kam and Tionne started coordinating with the now-contrite GAG sergeants and other troops. "We need more like you, Gorbit. And ... about my commission paperwork being lost ...?" Jaina said, whistling innocently until Gorbit winked. "We still remember the Trickster, Colonel. You saved a lot of lives during the Vong War, and some of us wish YOU were leading up the Guard. We'll coordinate with the Jedi Masters - please excuse me," the kid said. Jaina kissed Jag once he reached her, and he let Zekk haul Serpa off to Force knew where - Jaina didn't really care. "The Shawnkyr is warmed up. There's room enough for everyone, once we get coordinates," Jag said. "We can rule out Jabiim or Coruscant - the one can't support this many refugees, and the Temple ... it's under attack, Jag. Jacen's thugs are ATTACKING THE TEMPLE ..." Jaina growled - sobbed? Her comlink flashed, and she answered thickly, "Solo." "Jaina!? Is the Praxeum all right?!" Corran Horn asked, and Jaina closed her eyes in relief. "You got away. Yeah - we're preparing to evac. The GAG troops here defied orders and didn't attack us. Is -" she was about to ask - she should be worried about the rest of the Order, not just Anakin. But he was Ani. Her one decent, sane brother left - and Bennie, who Jaina gladly claimed as a little brother. She wanted to protect both of them. "He stayed behind with a small unit of younger Knights to destroy what records he could. We barely broke orbit before the Ganner Rhysode came out of cloak and tried to interdict us," Corran sighed. "Jaina, Ben gave us the warning, and saved Cilghal from Jacen. But ... Jacen took Ben Force knows where." Jag cursed something in Chiss, and Jaina felt the color drain from her cheeks, as Kam and Tionne looked over at them in horror - their Force-enhanced hearing could easily pick up the conversation. "Cilghal? Jacen ATTACKED CILGHAL? And Bennie ... Corran - all right. Where should we rendezvous?" Jaina asked, loathing what she had to do next. She was the Sword. She had to protect the Padawans and get them to safety. No matter the cost to her heart. "We're sending coordinates now. We're reached Mara, she's got Betsy Braddock and K'urod Tar-Vasik - they're going to try and extract Anakin and the others. Luke ..." Corran said, his voice not quite hiding an accusation. "Wherever Uncle Luke is, I'm sure he has a reason. The Council are accomplished Masters, too. Don't forget that," Jaina snapped - not very fair, but Corran and the rest of the Council HAD let Uncle Luke take over when he hadn't wanted to. She didn't accuse Corran of leaving Anakin and the other Knights behind. He already felt guilty enough. Jaina could sympathize to a degree. "... THAT'S the Jaina I remember. See you at the rendezvous," Corran said, managing a smirk in his voice, and Jaina nodded, checking the coordinates. "Endor," Jaina told Jag in a soft voice - she respected their GAG "prisoners" for their decency, but she wasn't going to TRUST them. "We'll load the ship. What about ...?" Jag asked, glancing at Gorbit and the small knot of GAG officers being watched by a circle of older Padawans. "Ossus isn't as barren as it used to be. Once we wipe the Praxeum's computers clean, let them hole up here until their ride arrives," Jaina suggested at Kam and Tionne's request for mercy through the Force. "And their landing craft?" Jag asked, half-smirking. "Coolant leaks. Why do you think Serpa wanted you and I to hunt Zekk in the first place?" Jaina almost smiled. She reached out in the Force for a moment - no Jacen. Worse, no Ben. Luke was incredibly distant, concentrating; her mother, tense and somewhere in Coronet with Dad; Allana, safe with Tenel Ka but sad; Mara and Betsy, preparing to challenge. And Anakin ... Jaina gasped as something metallic and bitter flashed across the link, and a whip-crack filled the Force. #Ani, please tell me you're not fighting ... HER ...# ------------------------------------------------- Coruscant: Jedi Temple: ------------------------------------------------- "Thisz one thinkz thisz might be a good time to aszk: Did ANYONE keep a ride in the hangar?" Tesar Sabatyne hissed as he deflected bolts back out of the computer room. "All right, so I THOUGHT we could access the laundry chutes from here and reach the tunnel network!" Seha Dorvald - a very young Knight, one who'd been enamored of Jacen until word of the Ailyn Vel incident had spread through the Order - called, her red hair a mess as she helped Valin Horn input the codes for the cascade virus. Said virus had been a deep-system backup put in the mainframe when the Temple had been built - Anakin Solo's own design, along with much of the framework for the very building. Once triggered, the virus would cleanse the computer core of everything suggesting where the Order might hide, what the best methods of killing Jedi were. And it'd fry the entire power regulation system. It would take months, maybe years to undo what the virus would cause. Anakin had learned to think long-term since the Myrkr mission. No more relying on stolen enemy vehicles or circumstantial means of blowing up targets. Which was why, when his comlink rang with a specific code as he held off GAG troops at the back door to the computer room, he allowed himself a smile and answered, "My request to the Grand Master came through. Get to the roof." "What about you?!" Jaden Korr - female human with short blonde hair, fending off repeating blaster rounds - asked, aghast at the idea of leaving Anakin behind. "Did I say I wasn't coming?" Anakin told the others - he lobbed a massive Force-push at the troops swarming the hall he was blocking off, then nodded as Lowbacca led the others past Anakin. {Make sure you live, goofball. You know how Uncle Chewie gets if he's mad,} Lowie said, and Anakin patted his old friend's arm - And that was when the vent in the computer room exploded, dropping durasteel and crimson energy strands with lethal yellow-orange-green eyes guiding them. "Anakin Solo," the assailant purred. "Lumiya," Anakin breathed - somehow, he wasn't surprised. "Have to admit, I'm disappointed Jacen is skimming the bottom of the maw luur for help." Lumiya raised an eyebrow behind her headdress, as Lowbacca snarled, but obeyed Anakin's silent plea to follow the other Knights. "Rather ... Vong of you," she said, keeping an eye on the youngest Solo heir. "I don't mind being a slave of Her Warriorness of Domain Kwaad, at least on our nights off,"Anakin admitted, smirking naughtily - Han-like, one would say. And with that, razor bugs flew from his fingers, as he gave ground - nothing would be gained by standing and fighting. Not here. Make the enemy do the work was as much a Vong saying as it was Jedi. Anakin had come to appreciate both cultures in his soul-wedding to Tahiri AND Riina. He'd chosen long ago to love both women in his trueheart's soul, to respect all the Tatooine and Yuuzhan'tar in her. Lumiya pursued ... walking, as she shredded the Vong bugs with her lightwhip. She obviously wanted to keep the Dark Lady poise going. Anakin merely saluted jauntily. Appearances had to be maintained, he supposed ... ----------------------------------------------- Somewhere ... else: ----------------------------------------------- The boy hung, naked in more senses than the physical, amidst thorn-studded vines. He bucked, spasms among waves among floods of pain shaking his frame, flesh discolored by all kinds of different toxins recycled through the vines to prevent systemic collapse. Death was not the intended result. Not of the Embrace of Pain. He was roughly spreadeagled, shorn of hair on scalp and body by Vong-things crawling slowly across his gangly, wiry body. Baldness - hairlessness - were no longer shameful to him, nor was his nudity. He had a mask to maintain. After the elevator ride, he'd been shoved into the room alone. It smelt of greenery, almost pleasant. The vines, some with razor tips, had taken care of his clothes. Others, less immediately torturous, had wrapped around his limbs, lifting him high and starting the pain process. Then the Vong-things had started to slide across him, shearing him, then digging, cutting and implanting. The backs of his hands had things digging at his cuticles, adding claws to his fingertips. Bonespurs being added to his heels, Barabel-like. Spine, fitted with some kind of enhancements to the discs and vertebrae, augmenting both flexibility and damage resistance. Other bones, limbs and pelvis, coated with some porous reinforcing matter, to lessen breakage and still allow cellular exchange. Flexible armorplate inserted beneath the solar plexus and navel, to deflect disembowling blows. Groin, fitted with a pouch/cup he somehow knew would protect while surviving off of his body wastes. Fluid, injected beneath the scalp, proceeding only so far, to add another layer of skull, micrometers thick. Skin, coated with something between armor and camoflague, allowing sweat while acting as a bodyglove, changing color on command. He would be naked, able to blend into any scene and armored, yet smooth-skinned. The surgery was without anaesthetic. And still, despite the pain ... the boy refused to drown. He'd learned to surf on Mon Cal, years earlier. There was no Force here; the boy could dimly see ysalamiri hanging off the trees in the makeshift terrarium. So what would support the boy as he rode the waves? Pain could rend focus, or augment it. He had been stripped, sheared, jabbed and implanted. There should NOT have been anything to ride on, to support the boy's identity from the corrosive pain. The boy had his memories. His truths, which even pain couldn't take. He was loved; he was forgiven. He could still follow the light - could try and be a light, to atone and protect. The memories were a foundation for his other mask, the one of his true self. But he couldn't focus on that through the pain. Then there were the ysalamiri. Strange, but true. They looked at him, their tongues going in and out, and would've been easy for the boy to hate. The boy didn't want to hate them. The ysalamiri were just living; the Force was with them even if they pushed it away from themselves. Which meant, even alone in the dark, the Force was present. The boy hadn't been abandoned at all. The light side hadn't abandoned the boy. That, with his knowledge that his family and friends loved him - would love him, no matter what. It didn't lessen the pain, but it did give the boy the focus he needed to survive it. To keep up his mask. The boy had been allowed to play with his mother's masks when he was small; she'd taught him inflection, expression, things she'd used to mask herself. Masks were often removed at parties, at the stroke of midnight. That was what the boy's captor wanted. For the boy to unmask at midnight, changed. The boy knew he WAS being changed by the Embrace. An embrace of flames had changed another Skywalker, sealed that one's mask. The boy smiled at the ysalamiri, their tongues flickering as if laughing with him. He'd unmask, changed, but when HE chose. Ben Skywalker looked forward to it. ------------------------------------------------- Jedi Temple, Coruscant: Roof: ------------------------------------------------- She had endured bacta, Vong monsters, and years of therapy, but Alema Rar still wasn't prepared for ... Calamity? Compared to the Vong annihilation of her trust-world of New Plympto, years ago - seven MILLION slain by Vong biotoxin - one large building blasted and fried by guerilla warfare should be no great loss. But the Temple, the old one and the new, had been the blue Twi'lek's refuge, after her sister Numa's death. It would hurt to lose it. Master Skywalker had taken time during the Vong War to comfort the then-young woman. He'd made sure, even during the darkest hours, to help Alema through her darkness. Which was why she was waiting with the others, as an off-green streak darted through GAG patrol ships and the night, to make sure Master Skywalker's nephew escaped the horror below. "ANAKIN! Come on - the Jade Shadow's almost here!" Alema called, watching Anakin dance with the metallic monster at the door to the roof. Lumiya was a boogey-creature told to bad Padawans, the younger Knights had claimed. Alema - too familiar with the nightmares of ryll mines, then the Vong War - tended not to discount any such horror stories. And maybe she still had feelings for the dashing Anakin Solo, even if he was happy with Tahiri. So the ancient Jedi warning about fear leading to so and so rang true ... Then another access hatch blew in the roof, and GAG troops swarmed the roof, and the Shadow flew to within range of the remaining Knights to jump - And Anakin couldn't reach it if the troops cut him off. Alema had run from the Nebula Chaser, leaving its thousands of refugees to Vong horrors. She couldn't call herself Jedi and repeat that mistake. ---------------------------------------------- The problem with lightwhips, Anakin Solo reflected, was balancing out the kriffing strands. Of COURSE he knew about shotos - he had one. He was using one. It was working, holding Lumiya at bay. But that was all the Jar'kai style defense was doing. "Your uncle would have finished me by now. Or perhaps you have too much of your father in you?" Lumiya taunted, as GAG troops ran closer. Anakin ignored her, gasping when blue lekku flashed by and a blue-black blade spun through the now-screaming shocktroops, a dancer's grace kicking the survivors back toward the access hatch. "FINISH IT!" Alema shouted, catching her `saber and deflecting a row of repeating blaster bolts - she was holding her own. Barely. Like him. But the wind was high, the GAG blastboats closing, more troops charging up the stairs, and Betsy and Mara were calling for their retreat - to fight another day. And the Force presented Anakin with an option. "GO!" he told Alema - then let the lightwhip pull his shoto from his grasp, as Lumiya pulled her weapon back for a killing blow. And Anakin concentrated on the shoto's power cell - Explosion. Shrapnel carved through the Dark Lady, severing cables, servos and circuits - and flesh - and the wind caught her. Lumiya's surprise echoed through the Force, until Anakin caught her by one arm as she approached the edge of the roof. "I'd never let you fall," he emphasized. And his purple lightsaber swept the night, taking Shira Brie's head with it on the backstroke. Then, and only then, the Son of Solo ran, as the Force echoed with mixed joy, worry, and victory, and he leapt aboard the Jade Shadow, Alema, Lowie and Tesar pulling him inside. Reckless, Yoda might say. Anakin AND Solo - the young man finally felt comfortable with both. Until he remembered Ben, and shuddered. ----------------------------------------------- They blasted out of Galactic City, Mara's revulsion at leaving her baby behind evident. But there was no way to go back for Ben. Betsy knew that, even as it tore at her own heart. Betsy squeezed her friend's shoulder and said, "We'd know if Ben was ..." "I know. Intellectually, I know. KRIFF intellect," Mara snarled - she was refuing to cry. Anakin joined them in the front cabin - the only real shelter from the crowded passenger cabin - and sat at the navigator's seat, watching Artoo maintain the balance of energies between the shields and the main drive. Finally, Anakin said softly, "Aunt Mara -" "Look, Solo. Ben ... Jacen won't kill him. Even after ... he tortured Ben. He carbon-froze me. But I can't believe his Dumb Lordship would ... " Mara began - until Anakin's strangled gasp made the women look at him in worry. "CARBON-FROZE you!? When - how - and he tortured Ben - !? Where IS Uncle Luke, anyhow!?" Anakin blurted - comlink silence was a pain, Betsy recalled. "Our raid on the Ganner was ... not quite by the book. Artoo, replay my little dance with the carbon-chamber?" Mara growled, and the droid toodled as he showed Anakin the replay of the fight. "Caedus, he calls himself. Darth Caedus. And with Lumiya dead ... he needs an apprentice more than ever. So I really don't believe Ben is ... going to die," Mara said, maintaining her mask. "Force ... Aunt Mara, I should've -" Anakin moaned, but Mara shot him a look that was equal parts "SHUT UP" and forgiveness. It was Mara, no doubt. "If Cilghal couldn't take the shavit-sucking monkey-lizard ... Ben did the smart thing, going to ground. Caedus has powers we can't possibly know - he blocked me from the Force long enough to carbon-freeze me. And Ben tried to save Cilghal. Don't discount what my boy did by guilting over your not being there," becoming ... almost gentle. It was still ghastly, thinking that Jacen - even as a Sith - might attack Cilghal, of all beings, Betsy mourned. The Mon Cal healer was so NICE - "Coming up on the Ganner. Artoo, wake up our little friend," Mara ordered, as the interdiction field swept invisibly toward the Jade Shadow and ignited the Force with danger sense. Then the Shadow shuddered, humming with a degree of vibration, as the Ganner Rhysode filled the front viewscreen - - and Anakin gasped, when the Shadow hyperjumped. The youngest Solo held his lightsaber, and asked Mara, "You DIDN'T - HOW - !?" "Danni Quee's research on Zonoma Sekot led to a little innovation in counter-interdiction tech. It's not ready for widespread use - maybe never - but the Shadow has a dovin basal that can negate interdiction fields long enough to let an ordinary hyperdrive get the ship out of the field," Mara said, smiling thinly. #And Anakin sensed the dovin basal - a Vongtech creature - through the Vong lambent crystal in his lightsaber,# Betsy thought, watching the stars rush by. She prayed for Ben, then asked Mara, "Where's the rendezvous?" "Endor. Luke knows; he said he'd meet us there once he has Ben. Something's supposed to happen at Vulpter, of all places - rathole backwater Deep Core industrial wasteworld," Mara said, glancing at Betsy. "An unlikely place for a destiny ... or a meeting to negotiate an unpopular peace ...?" Betsy asked, meeting Mara's eyes. "That amendment to that war powers act - Jacen and Niathal are within striking distance of the COS office. If Omas was caught doing something under the table with Corellia, he'd be arrested or worse, " Mara spat. "That leaves Jacen and Niathal. One Mon Cal admiral, moral or not, against a Sith Lord, with the rest of the galaxy frothing ... bloody HELL," Betsy sighed. Which meant that whatever Luke had foreseen on Vulpter could mean the war. And Ben's soul. Betsy really didn't care so much anymore how the war went. Wars were big, abstract things. She just wanted to bring one boy home to his family. On the other hand, Luke Skywalker was on Vulpter. Worse odds had brought down an Empire. ----------------------------------------------- Coronet, Corellia: Prime Minister's Office: ----------------------------------------------- "Prime Minister Gejjen? Your 16:00 appointment is here." Dur Gejjen closed his comlink call to a certain C.O - it'd be another day before the meeting, so he had to arrange to "remove" his targets to keep his end of the bargain - and said, "Ms. Gornal, I SAID -" Then a blue lightsaber blade melted the door panel, and Gejjen's eyes bulged to the size of Mon Cal oysters. The door swung open, revealing a VERY agitated freighter captain and his white-clad wife wearing rebreathers, a VERY familiar protocol droid behind them, squeaking in Gornal's voice, "Really, Captain Solo, was coma gas necessary for the staff?" "Shaddup, Goldenrod, and stop talking like the receptionist," Han snapped after he'd removed his rebreather. His DL-44 blaster was trained on Gejjen, but it was Leia's outstretched hand which worried the PM more. He couldn't leave his seat, and Leia's eyes ... narrowed. "Aurra Sing. Did you send her to Hapes?" the Alderaanian princess demanded, her usual poise QUITE gone. She was ready to shoot stormtroopers again, like in the historical holovids. This was the Leia Organa-Solo the Noghri revered as Lady Vader, and Gejjen could only whimper an affirmative. "SHAVIT!" Han snarled - but Leia stopped him with a glance, decades of communication in the gesture. The Princess pierced Gejjen again with her gaze and said, "Jacen is one thing. But if you EVER send anyone after Allana - my granddaughter - again ..." Her lightsaber flickered off, and Leia breathed, "I'm not good at Jedi restraint. My mother's rumored to have coined another phrase I embrace more. "'Aggressive negotiations.' Are we CLEAR?" "No more - I SWEAR!" Gejjen shrieked, and the Force-hold slackened, as Han glared at the younger Corellian. "I trusted you ... cross us again, I won't be here when Leia comes back. Worse, we'll send the droid to talk you to death," Han warned, and the Solos and Threepio swept out of the office. Gejjen made a note: If he lived the week, no more dealings with Jedi. He liked living. --------------------------------------------------- tbc ...