MC: AOTE: Brothers in Arms

[JasraLantill]

“You going to take the liquor, sir?” Beryl asked Nic, just as she was tucking in her shirt (now on the right way round) into her trousers. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and then absently licked her bottom lip. “Seems a shame to just leave it.”

 

Her flight suit neatly rolled up, her helmet under her arm, and her blaster tucked in the waistband of her trousers, she started to exit the shuttle, but paused just as she was passing by Nic at the door.

 

"You know, I think you can stop calling me 'sir'," Nic said. He stroked her cheek. "Think we're beyond that sort of formality."

 

"Sorry, s--." Beryl let out a small sigh. "It's habit, but I'll try to remember." She pressed her lips together. "Just so you know, Conn and I have a history together. But..." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I’m not hurt, and I don’t regret it.” She headed outside back to Conn and Max.

[Rogue Nine]

Just as Lana was traipsing out of the jungle, credit chit firmly secured in her fist, Beryl and Nic descended the shuttle's ramp and walked up to Conn and Max. "We're ready," Beryl told their rescuers.

 

Max nodded as Lana came up alongside her. "This is Lana Lasheen, my first mate," she said as a way of introducing the young Firrerreo. After greetings were exchanged, she gestured towards her ship. "C'mon, let's get off this rock," she said, moving forward.

 

As they made their way towards the Hammerspace, the odd TIE and its dead pilot came into view again. Conn slowed down, staring at the deceased man. "Beryl, who was this?" he called out.

 

Beryl looked over at the body. "TC-128-1, sir," she said impassively. "Otherwise known as Captain Aiken." She cocked her head to one side, looking at the Captain's face, for when she had killed him he had been wearing his helmet. "His wife's making him roast nuna for dinner tonight." She looked at Conn, her eyes cold and unfeeling. "Sad, huh?"

 

Conn was taken aback by the chilly tone Beryl had affected. "Yes, quite," he said, finally finding his voice. "What happened to him? Was he the one flying this ship?"

 

"I was flying it. He wanted to contact Carida Control to send in marines to find the shuttle. And that didn't fit into my plans. So, I killed him."

 

Everyone turned to look at her. It wasn't so much the fact that she had killed him, but the callousness with which she described it that made them stop. Nic arched an eyebrow at her.

 

"It's his own fault, really," she added. "He's the one that wanted to do a 'tandem flight'."

 

Conn wanted to press her more about it, but he knew that if they lingered any longer, the Imperials would come. "Right," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Let's get on board. No telling when we might get company." As they boarded the ramp, Conn reached out and touched Beryl on the arm as she walked by. "I need to have a word with you after you get settled."

 

Beryl nodded, her features unchanged. "Of course, sir."

 

*****

 

Fifteen minutes later, the Hammerspace broke through the moon's sparse atmosphere and into space.

[JasraLantill]

Inside the Hammerspace and on their way to Ruusan, Beryl headed to the bridge. She wanted to send a message to Jana, to let her know that she was on her way to the rendezvous point she had specified in her letter, but not quite in the manner that she had planned.

 

One of the Firrerreos was sitting near the com equipment, and so Beryl approached her. “Lena?”

 

“Lana,” the Firrerreo replied.

 

“I’m sorry. Lana,” Beryl started again. “I need to send a message on a CMG frequency. May I use the com station?”

 

“Sure.” Lana slid her chair over to one side, allowing Beryl access to the com controls. “You need help with anything?”

 

“I can manage, thank you.” As she started to type in her message, Beryl was acutely aware that Lana was keeping a curious eye on her.

 

“So, what’s a ‘CMG?’” Lana asked.

 

“Corellian Merchant Guild.” Beryl typed a bit more, and then noticed that Lana seemed to be waiting for additional information. “It’s an association of Merchants that are Corellian-based or whose employees or owners are Corellian-bred. They have guild offices scattered all over the Galaxy. A sort of ‘home away from home’ for Corellians.”

 

Lana nodded. “Sounds… useful.”

 

“It is.” Beryl read the message to herself to see if it sounded okay. Mom, plans have changed. Don’t need a ride. Will meet you at the Rest. Dad’s buying. –B. Satisfied, she sent it off. The message was still a bit coded, as Beryl still wasn’t sure if she was being monitored or not, but she knew that once Jana got it, she’d know to meet her at the Smuggler’s Rest on Ruusan. And that Nic was alive and with her.

 

“Thank you,” she said to Lana. “Is there someplace I can wait while the doctor finishes up with Nic?”

 

“Common room?” Lana suggested.

 

Beryl nodded curtly and left the bridge. Once in the small common room, she sat down in one of the chairs and quietly waited.

[Writer]

On the bridge of the Echo, Reibe seemed to be working through her mind, trying to find a little something to tell Jack about herself. But at that moment, the comm station blinked. Reibe took a step forward and flicked the switch, but the only sound that came through was static... highly regular bursts of it. After listening for a few seconds, Reibe flicked the comm station off and shook her head.

 

"Hate to cut this short," she told Jack. "I have a message to deliver..."

 

With that, she left the bridge. In the common room, she found Cloud and Jeez and she paused to ask, "Cloud, Jeez, have either of you seen Jana?"

 

"I'm right here, Reibe," Jana said from the other end of the room. As Reibe crossed the room and led Jana away to her room, Cloud turned to Jeez.

 

"Did she just refer to us by name?" he asked, bewildered.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

"I have a message for you," Reibe told Jana. Jana nodded wordlessly and Reibe put a hand to Jana's forehead. Words formed in Jana's mind. A message came in from the CMG box you asked us to monitor. It reads as follows, "Mom, plans have changed. Don't need a ride. Will meet you at the Rest. - B"

 

Jana's eyes sparkled just a little. "Smuggler's Rest. Then, that's where we're headed. But I had other reasons for coming to you. I wanted to talk about Nic."

 

"What about him?" Reibe asked.

 

"In the last letter Beryl sent, she indicated Nic died much more recently than you led me to believe," Jana answered. Reibe nodded.

 

"Had I allowed the truth to be known, you would have gone after him and you'd have been killed," she reasoned.

 

"I'm surprised I don't hold a grudge against you for that," Jana said. "But since I discovered your lie, I've found it increasingly difficult to believe that Beryl saw him die. He's a survivor. I just can't picture him dying before he's ready..."

 

"You believe he's still alive then?" Reibe inquired. Jana nodded.

 

"Yes, I do," she agreed.

 

"Then reach out with the Force and find him," Reibe ordered. Jana closed her eyes, focusing her mind into finding Nic. Somewhere far off in the galaxy, a tiny spark of life sprang to her attention, as if to say, "Here I am!"

 

Reibe smiled faintly. "Now think over the message I delivered."

 

Jana obeyed and quickly noticed a patch of static that seemed out of place. She moved it and the words came through clear, Dad's buying. Jana's eyes snapped open. "He's with Beryl."

 

At that moment, the Echo came out of hyperspace.

 

"Then, you will see him soon," Reibe said. And with that, she left Jana alone.

[starmark2k]

((Joint Post with Rogue))

Nic lay on a small table in the Hammerspace’s small medbay. It reminded him of the Echo’s, which made him think of Oliver. It had been six weeks since the medic had died and Nic hadn’t had the opportunity to think of him in all that time. He had concentrated on two things: escape and Beryl. Oliver deserved better than what he got, he may have made a few bad choices but in the end, he made the right one.

 

Nic was in the medbay because Conn had told him he would take a look at his leg injury when they broke atmosphere, although Nic had the distinct impression the doctor had other reasons to see him.

 

Conn strode through the door to the medbay, his scrubs already on. "Okay, let's have a look at that leg of yours," he said, moving next to Nic. "Eugh, this looks bad," he said, wrinkling his nose. "How'd you get it?"

 

"A mutual friend of ours shot me," Nic replied with a small laugh and a grin.

 

Conn arched an eyebrow as he reached for a pair of syringes on his operating tray. "Beryl shot you?"

 

"Yeah, Corellian women tend to like doing that to me." Nic replied watching the doctor get ready to begin his work. "But she was only saving my life so I can’t complain."

 

"Saving your life by shooting you in the leg," Conn said, smoothly slipping the syringes into the skin around the charred flesh. "You'll have to explain that one to me."

 

"Basically it was shoot my leg or my head. I think she made the right decision." Nic looked at Conn and thought now was a good a time as any to ask the doctor what he really wanted to know. "So is there something on your mind, Doc? I couldn’t help but notice your obvious wariness around me."

 

Conn paused, a laser scalpel in his hand, just above Nic's wound. "Just any general wariness that comes with meeting someone for the first time," he replied, deciding to play it casually at first. "The galaxy is a pretty big and scary place, so everyone has to be wary on some level."

 

"That’s true." Nic replied as he felt the pain in his leg disappear as the drugs kicked in. "From what I hear you helped Beryl out of the prison and that earns you trust with me so if you do have questions I’ll be willing to answer them if I can."

 

"Okay," Conn murmured as he started his incisions. "How'd you and Beryl end up on the same deserted rock?"

 

"Well, she shot the shuttle I was escaping Carida in while she was escaping Carida herself in that TIE. I had to land, she followed." Nic explained. "Just one hell of a coincidence."

 

Slicing away dead flesh, Conn nodded. "The Force works in mysterious ways and all that jazz, yeah?" he demurred. "Guess you guys were captured at the same time during that whole big muck-up at that Imp base a couple of months ago, huh?"

 

"Yeah," Nic replied. "but that’s a very long story. So why'd you help Beryl out anyway?"

 

"Beryl and I are old friends," Conn stated, stripping away the bits of burned flesh with his left hand while applying a bacta salve with his right. "We used to work at Incom together. I was really surprised when she showed up at the prison, and I knew I couldn't just let her try and escape on her own." He paused. "I let her walk out of my life once. I wasn't going to let her do it again."

 

"So you guys were an item?" Nic asked knowing the answer was yes. He could hear it in the tone and the way Conn said it.

 

Conn, who hadn't looked at Nic's face the whole time, flicked his eyes upward, meeting Nic's own for a brief moment. "Yeah," he confirmed. "We were. Until she broke it off. Wouldn't tell me why, then she got fired from Incom and disappeared." He pressed the bacta salve into the wound gently, making sure it hit the frayed skin edges. "It was only at the prison I found out why she did it."

 

Nic thought for a moment. Not only had Beryl bumped into her ex once in a prison, but again on an abandoned rock in the middle of nowhere. "So how did you find the me and Beryl?"

 

Conn ripped a long piece of elastic bandage and carefully held it against Nic's knee, bracing it as he carefully wrapped the wound. "I've been looking for her," he said. "Ever since her brother kidnapped her and took her away." He affixed a clip to the end of the bandage. "Max, she's a former Trustee at that same prison, she and I have been scouring the galaxy for her." He looked Nic in the eye. "Like I said, I couldn't let her walk out of my life again."

 

"So you risk your career and life to help her out, and then search the darkest corners of space to find her." Nic stated looking down as he couldn’t look the doctor in the eyes. "You love her."

 

Conn put the finishing touches on Nic's bandage, then straightened up and sighed. "Oh, so you're diagnosing me now?" he asked rhetorically, without malice.

 

Nic sat up and turned so his leg was now dangling over the table, he sighed and looked up at Conn. "Nothing happened in the shuttle." Nic said, knowing the real question Conn had wanted to ask. He slid off the table and landed on his feet a little shakily.

 

Conn reached out a steadying hand, leading Nic over to where a pair of crutches leaned against the wall. "Make sure you keep off that leg for at least two days to let it fully heal."

 

Nic nodded as he propped himself up onto the crutches. He turned and slowly began to walk out the room, but stopped in the doorway."Conn," he called out to the doctor. "Now you have her back, don’t let go."

 

As the door slid shut, Conn sat back in his chair and sighed, reaching into his pocket and feeling around for the shrapnel heart. "I don't think I'm the one that needs to be told not to let go," he said to the sterile medbay air.

[Rogue Nine]

((Joint post with Jasra!))

 

Beryl lay on the operating table in the tiny medbay on the Hammerspace. It was quite a bit smaller than the Echo's, which wasn't all that large to begin with. Conn had asked her to be there to treat her injury and she had complied, since he was her superior. On her way to the medbay, she had passed Nic, who was walking to his room. He had given her a bit of an odd look. Beryl wasn't sure what to make of it.

 

Conn strode through the door, pulling on a pair of gloves. "Yes, I know, it isn't as luxurious as the last medbay I treated you in, but it'll have to do," he said, pulling up his operating tray.

 

"I wasn't complaining, sir," Beryl said, frowning slightly almost as if she was unsure what Conn wanted her to say.

 

Conn cringed inwardly. The old Beryl would have had a ready retort to his quip. This new Beryl was cold, concise. Imperial. "When did you start this whole 'sir' business?" he asked, moving up to her side.

 

"It's protocol to address a superior officer in that manner," she stated without hestitation, but then she shifted, obviously uncomfortable about her automated answer. "It's sort of a habit now, s--." She paused. "I'm sorry. I'll try to remember not to do that."

 

"Beryl, I'm not your superior officer," Conn stated, putting a hand on his hip. "I was never a superior officer to you. That stuff doesn't matter anyway, you're not with the Imps anymore, so just drop it, all right?"

 

Beryl nodded, not knowing how to respond to him and afraid to open her mouth lest the word 'sir' accidentally come out.

 

Conn could feel her apprehension and shook his head. "Easy, it's just me, B," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "No need to be jumpy. Now let's take a look at that 'flesh wound of yours."

 

She nodded again, not complaining or commenting about needles, or pain, or prodding, or even making any remarks as to whether or not the wound pained her.

 

Shaking his head, Conn reached over and gingerly slid her anti-g trousers off her legs. Her wound was on her upper right thigh and he could see that the bacta patch that had been applied was not doing an adequate enough job of staunching the wound. He grabbed a sheet of medicated gauze in his right hand and carefully traced the outline of the patch with his left, looking for a spot to latch onto. "How did you say you got this again?" he asked.

 

"A tree splintered. And I caught the biggest piece."

 

"With your leg," Conn said, smirking slightly. "That's par for the course with you." His fingers found purchase on the patch and he slowly peeled it away from her skin, revealing the gash underneath. The flesh had healed somewhat, but the bacta in the patch wasn't quite enough to heal it all the way; as a result, the injury still looked decidedly raw. "That'll leave you a nice scar to match all your other ones," he said as he pried away the patch with his left hand and ran the gauze over with his right. He chuckled. "They teach you all this hullaballoo at the Imp Academy, yet they still can't teach you to dodge projectiles. Must not have been very good training."

 

"I was only enrolled in basic officer training, not commando training, s--." She paused. "Conn," she self-corrected. "And I did dodge the shot. Just wasn't expecting the tree to explode." Beryl didn't wince as Conn cleaned out her wound, not even when he paused to extract a couple of stray splinters. If her Imperial training didn't teach her to dodge splinters, it certainly taught her not to flinch when they were being extracted.

 

Conn set aside his instruments and the bit of gauze he'd used to collect all the bloody splinters and fragments of wood and stood back to look at his handiwork. Her wound was still raw, but he'd managed to clean it up rather well, so well that he was sure it'd leave the most minimal of scars. All that was left was to put the poultice on and wrap it up. He slapped his hands together and was about to tell her the good news when he looked at her face and saw her blank, distant countenance. It was an expression that he'd seen on her face only once before and he'd done his very best to make it go away. Those were under different circumstances, however. This time, he was at a complete loss as to where to begin.

 

Pouring a generous gob of disinfectant gel on his hands, he carefully rubbed it onto the skin around her wound. He looked up at her and muttered quietly, "'Wasn't expecting the tree to explode'. That's rich." He massaged the gel onto her thigh, kneading it softly. "What did they do to you, B? This 'sir' garbage, bottling up your emotions, repressing your feelings." He shook his head again. "It's like they replaced you with someone completely different."

 

Beryl opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but then quickly pressed her lips shut. It was another moment before she finally said, Re-education," in a voice just above a whisper. "Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace for the next ten thousand years." She looked away from him, shaking her head, unable to tell him anything more.

 

Conn stopped massaging her thigh and crossed his arms. "'Re-education'," he repeated. "You sound like a bloody Imperial propaganda program." His lips curled up into a slight sneer. "The Beryl Quitaan I knew never would have succumbed to their lies."

 

"Lies?" One of Beryl's hands started to shake, and she clasped it tightly with the other. "What's a lie but another perspective of the truth?" she said in a toneless voice.

 

The shaking had not gone unnoticed by Conn. "Spoken like a true Imp," he said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "You honestly believe in their crap, don't you?" he asked, deciding to prod further now that he'd gotten some sort of reaction out of her. He bent down close to her face. "You know they hate non-Humans, Beryl," he whispered. "And guess what I am? I'm quarter Zeltron. Quarter non-Human. Does that mean you hate me?" He reached out with a finger and tapped her chin to force her to face him. "Tell me."

 

Beryl shook her head. "I don't hate you," she said softly."But I am trying very hard to keep myself together. Very hard." She took a deep breath. "And you're not helping." So hard was she gripping her shaking hand that her knuckles were now turning white. "What time is it?"

 

Conn checked the chrono on the wall behind the table. "2030 Coruscant Standard Time," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

 

"Past time for meds...." Beryl looked at him. "I need a tranq," she said flatly.

 

"I wasn't aware you got your doctorate on Carida as well, Beryl," he replied evenly. "What meds?"

 

"I don't know what meds!" Beryl said, irritatedly. "Just... meds! Look, just give me something to help me sleep and I'll be fine!"

 

"Ah, so you do have emotions," Conn replied, taking out another syringe. "I'll help you sleep, but you will answer my questions when you wake up, got it?"

 

Beryl's brow wrinkled, decidedly uncomfortable with the whole situation. Nevertheless she said, "I'll tell you what I can." She held out her arm, just as she had done everyday for Dr. Ferrana. "You're worse than Dr. Ferrana," she muttered under her breath.

 

Conn caught the name she'd muttered; it was unfamiliar to him, but he'd have Lana look into it after he was done with Beryl. "Good," he said, slipping the needle into her arm and squeezing the plunger. The drugs were fast-acting and he could feel her relax palpably. "Good night, Beryl," he said as her eyes fluttered shut.

 

Her voice was tired, weary. "Good night... sir..." she replied as her head lolled to the side.

 

Conn studied her face as she slept; it was the first time he'd seen her at peace since rescuing her. "There's something not right with you, B," he muttered as he prepared yet another set of instruments. "And I'm pretty sure these 'drugs' and this 'Dr. Ferrana' have a lot to do with that."

 

*****

 

After extracting blood samples and applying the poultice to her leg wound, Conn carried Beryl carefully to her quarters and laid her on the bed. He tucked her under the sheets, then straightened up and looked at her face again. Her eyelids fluttered, indicating a lot of subconcious activity going on in her head. He frowned, then reached into his pocket and took out the shrapnel heart and placed it on the nightstand next to her bed. He grabbed a piece of flimsi and quickly scribbled something onto it, then tucked it under the shrapnel. With one last look at her sleeping form, he exited the room.

[JasraLantill]

Beryl was having a restless sleep—tossing and turning, murmuring now and then, twitching once in a while, and with the occasional tear or two trickling down her cheek. She was dreaming, or rather having a nightmare….

 

*********

 

“It pains me to see you like this, Beryl. It really does.” Berasmus Quitaan laid a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Just answer the question and I promise everything will be alright.”

 

“Please, Nuss.” Beryl’s one free hand frantically tugged at the neural collar around her neck. Not only a tool for punishment, it continually gave off short bursts of electric shock, making it difficult for her to concentrate and near impossible to connect with the Force. “No more, please.”

 

But Nuss didn’t take the collar off. Instead, he placed his hands on either side of Beryl’s head and turned her to face a computer screen with a red square glowing in the middle of it. “Just tell me what color the square is.”

 

Beryl cringed and was trying to hold back tears. She had told him—again, and again, and again, for what seemed like hours and hours and hours--and every time she answered the neural collar would activate sending waves and waves of incredible pain surging throughout her body. At first she had answered ‘red’, and she had been rewarded with pain. Then she started to give answers of different colors—blue, purple, yellow—but that was not the answer either as the pain had grown more intense. She had then tried not answering at all, but quickly abandoned that tactic as the punishment was not only more intense but longer in duration. “What do you want from me?”

 

“Just a simple answer to a simple question,” her brother whispered into her ear. “What color is the square?”

 

She cringed, bracing herself for the pain she knew was coming. “Red!”

 

Pain surged through her like a tidal wave, making every muscle in her body convulse. If she hadn’t been strapped into the chair she was sitting in, she would have collapsed to the floor.

 

“Beryl, please….” Nuss’ face suddenly morphed into Captain Kriss Raikellii’s face. “Just do as your brother asks. He’s only trying to help you. We all are.” Kriss smiled gently, kindly. “Just tell us what color the square is.”

 

“What do you want from me, you bastard!” she screamed at him. “I’ve told you! It’s kriffin’ red! Red, red, red, red….!” Her words drowned into screams of pain as the neural collar was activated again.

 

She was still twitching when Kriss caressed the side of Beryl’s face with his hand. “You’ve got everything going for you, Beryl—looks, skills, education, background. Don’t throw it all away. Let me help you.”

 

Kriss gently kissed her, his lips lingering on hers for several seconds. But as he pulled away from her, his face changed and it wasn’t Kriss looking at her but Dr. Ferrana. “It’s a very simple question that has a very simple answer.”

 

As he laid a hand on her arm that was restrained, she felt a hot, burning sensation begin to flow through her veins.

 

“What are you doing to me?!”

 

“Just answer the question, Beryl. What color is the square on the monitor?”

 

Beryl felt as if her body were on fire. She shrieked in pain as the impassive face of Dr. Ferrana calmly stared back at her. Then his face began to morph into Dr. Twerna’s, then into Cadet Penwick’s, and then into Captain Aiken’s.

 

“What color is the square on the monitor?” the Captain said, as his face started to turn the ashy-blue sort of hue of a corpse.

 

The pain was intense, her mind befuddled, and it was hard for her to speak. “The square is red, sir!”

 

“What was that?” Captain Aiken raised an eyebrow, as if he was pleasantly surprised by the way she had phrased her latest answer.

 

“THE SQUARE IS RED, SIR!”

 

Beryl felt the tension on her arm disappear and she bolted upright out of the chair, only to find herself sitting upright in a bed--sweating profusely, shaking, disoriented and confused. It took her a moment to realise she was in some sort of dimly lit ship’s quarters. As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to put her feet on the deck, she immediately recognised something familiar and comforting on the bedside table. She snatched it up with one swipe of her hand, clutching it tightly in her fist.

 

She moved to the corner of the room, sitting down on the floor and clutching her knees to her chest. Only then did she open up the crinkled flimsi and read it.

 

"You need this more than I do right now."

 

“Conn….” She clutched the keepsake to her heart and laid her head down on her knees.

[Rogue Nine]

Conn blew an exasperated sigh as he carefully replaced the specimen dish, then sat back in his seat. The medical faculties of the Hammerspace were meager, which was hard for him to get used to, being that he'd recently come from working in a fully-stocked Imperial facility. It had taken him a long time to isolate the cells he was looking for in Beryl's sample, as her blood was rife with the tranquilizer he'd given her. He breathed deeply for a few moments, then leaned back into start working again when he heard a yell from the room outside. Beryl's quarters.

 

"What do you want from me, you bastard! I’ve told you! It’s kriffin’ red! Red, red, red, red….!"

 

Conn stood up quickly and put his implements to the side. Beryl was probably having a very bad, very lucid dream, if her screams were any indication.

 

“What are you doing to me?!”

 

He removed his gloves and tossed them into the trash, then whirled around and grabbed a number of syringes.

 

"THE SQUARE IS RED, SIR!"

 

He slapped at the door controls and sprinted down the hall. Pressing the open sequence into the keypad at Beryl's door, he ducked in and looked into the dimly lit room. "Beryl?" he asked, slightly surprised at not seeing her in the bed, but quickly spotting her huddled up in the corner. He moved to her and knelt down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Beryl?" he repeated. "Is everything okay?"

[JasraLantill]

Beryl didn’t look at Conn, but shook her head as her hand tightened on the keepsake. “Just a nightmare, sir,” she said quietly. “I have them all the time, but they’re not always that bad.” She snorted, thinking on how Dr. Ferrana would miss out on her reporting on her latest dream, especially since he had featured in it. “Suppose it’s because I missed my meds today.” She looked up at Conn then. “Next time, can you give me something stronger?”

 

Conn frowned. These 'meds' the Imperials had had her on were sounding more and more sinister. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea, B," he started, then paused at her crestfallen look. "But if it'll help you sleep better, I'll consider it." He squeezed her shoulder. "That sounded like a pretty rough nightmare. What was it?"

 

She frowned slightly, then after a pause, said, “It didn’t make much sense, sir.” She cringed. “Sorry, habit,” she apologized for calling him ‘sir’ again. “There was a red square on a screen,” she continued, “and people were asking me to tell them what color it was, but any answer I gave them was wrong.” She shook her head quickly. “It doesn’t matter. It was just a dream.”

 

She opened her fist, revealing the keepsake. “So, I guess this really is a good luck charm. It kept you alive and safe.” She paused. “You know, I don’t think I said ‘thank you’ yet for rescuing me and Nic.” His hand still resting on her shoulder, she placed her hand on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

 

Conn gave her a small, crooked grin. "You didn't make it easy to find you, believe me. Lena, Lana and Max all thought I'd flipped my gourd." He stood, then offered his hand to her.

 

She took it and stood close to him. Their bodies nearly touching, she gazed into his eyes for a moment, and then laid her head on his shoulder. “You’re warm,” she said. “And I feel so cold inside.”

 

Conn was surprised at Beryl's sudden show of apparent affection. In the medbay, she'd been cold, irritable and confrontational; now she was quiet, disoriented and quite fragile. He held the back of her head, relishing the familiar feel of her soft, short hair. "Probably because of those drugs they gave you," he surmised, noting that she was quivering ever so slightly. If they had her on a regimen, she'd be going through withdrawal right about now. He kissed the top of her head, then reached down and took her by the hand and moved towards the door. "I know what you need to warm you up," he said. At her curious look, he chuckled. "Bet you haven't had a good cup of caf in a while. Lena makes the best Corellian blend." He caught her gaze. "Maybe that'll help you remember these 'drugs' they gave you."

 

“I never saw any labels on any of the bottles or the syringes,” she said. “But I can tell you that they made me feel sort of sleepy and it was hard to focus, but then I felt calm afterwards. Dr. Ferrana said that the meds were to assist with the re-ed ‘transition’ process.” She shook her head. “I still don’t know what that means, exactly, but I tried as much as I could to resist their effects.” She looked directly at him. “I tried to use the Force to resist it, Conn, and it was still really hard.”

 

She started out the door with him, but then paused. “Wait.” She let go of his hand and began to back up into the room again. “I want to show you something.” She rose, crossing the room to the small locker near the bed. She opened it and took out her TIE flight suit and began searching the inside pockets. “All of the cadets in my class had an additional duty to perform. Mine was working at the library, classifying incoming manuals and the like.” She extracted two small cylinders—one was the code cylinder that Captain Aiken had given her, and the other was the one she had recorded the data she had retrieved from the Academy library. “So, I collected some stuff on the side. Now, I know how some of these things are related, but I’d like another opinion. A medical opinion,” she added. "Do you have a datapad?”

 

"I've got better," he said, taking the two cylinders from her. "Lana does some slicing in her spare time, so she's got the latest tech-y stuff in her console. She could probably help with it." He took her hand again and led her out the door. "But first, the important things. Let's get some caf."

 

The two headed for the Hammerspace common room.

[stingerhs]

3 Months after the attack on the Police Droid Factory, 9 months into the Clone War

 

"Lady and gentlemen, if you would have a seat, we have much to discuss at this briefing," Nyrera stated calmly as Ryshana, Jeez, and the rest of Valnor Squad entered the briefing room. Seeing Nyrera, Jeez lifted an eyebrow underneath his visor. Nyrera had never given the briefings for their missions; he had only given them a couple of debriefings.

 

By now, what had started as an isolated resistance by Nyrera had turned into an all out civil war on Fondor. Just two weeks earlier, Valnor Squad had successfully disabled a Droid Control center in one of the major manufacturing districts which had enabled Nyrera to launch his first full scale assault with little opposition to secure his first sizeable stronghold on the planet. No more was the resistance limited to just striking from underground using terrorism tactics; now, Nyrera's resistance had also grown into a full scale army that was capable of challenging the Techno Union's battalions of droids.

 

And now, the Valnor Squad was being called on yet again, and this time, everyone could tell that this was for a major operation. As they took their seats, Nyrera then began, "Obviously, this mission is of crucial importance, or I wouldn't bother briefing you myself. To get to the point, your mission today is to infiltrate the main Fondorian Government Offices and capture the Prime Minister. Once he is captured, you're next objective is to return with the Prime Minister to one of our safehouses or preferably here. This is the most critical part of our largest and most crucial assaults in this war. Without the Prime Minister during several brief moments, the Techno Union will be divided and leaderless as we drive them from the Orbital Yards."

 

Ryshana's eyes widened for just a moment at the last statement. If the Resistance controlled the Orbital Yards, this civil war would demand outside interference from the Republic or, more likely, the Separatists. If successful, control of the Orbital Yards would cut off critical war supplies, ships, and droids to the Separatists and escalate the conflict on Fondor to unprecedented levels. With outside interference, this civil war would definitively become a Galactic struggle as both sides would benefit greatly from Fondor's manufacturing outputs.

 

"Be aware, the process of actually capturing the Prime Minister cannot take place before 0400 tomorrow. If it is done too soon, then my well calculated plan will not have the appropriate timing. If it is done somewhat later than 0400, then it will be of no consequence to you. If it is done well after 0400, then it will in all likelihood be for nothing outside of a publicity stunt for our Resistance. And remember: he must be taken alive and unharmed. If he is so much as injured, then we will lose precious support given his popularity. He must be captured unharmed so that he can deliver a stirring speech to my people about the error of his ways in supporting the Techno Union," Nyrera stated with all the primness he normally displayed.

 

As Jeez sat there, he wondered for a moment as to why Nyrera would go to such lengths to ensure the Prime Minister's safety. After all, he had never cared much about the men they had captured over the past several months. Heck, Nyrera delivered a public trial about one man's supposed "crimes" and had him publicly executed by firing squad, Jeez thought to himself. Still, he has what it takes to get this thing finished, and that's all that counts.

__________________________

 

Back on the Echo en route to Rusaan

 

Laying there in his bed, Jeez was wide awake. Aside from sharing their now daily meditation routine with Cloud, Jeez had kept to himself, and he had also failed to fall asleep in three straight days. He hadn't even had a short nap, and as he laid on his bed, Jeez just stared blankly at the ceiling in his dark, unlit room. Something in the Force just seemed to be nagging at him constantly, and Jeez found it difficult to focus. All kinds of thoughts and strange visions clouded his mind as if the channel was changing at a rapid and constant pace.

 

It seemed as if there was so many voices all talking and crying out around him, but Jeez couldn't discern a single voice. Everything was just so disjointed and unfocused, and Jeez struggled just to maintain his composure around Cloud during their meditations. Although Jeez could feel himself connected to the Force during the meditations, Jeez's mind was racing too fast for him to concentrate.

 

Laying there, Jeez closed his eyes as he tried to sleep. Concentrating on the Force, Jeez did his best to relax his mind as he normally would while putting himself into a deep period of hibernation. Instead, everything just began to intensify, and all of the voices and images slowly began to take some sort of a shape. The voices then all seemed to be saying the word all at different times, and the dissonance forced Jeez to squint his eyes as he was overwhelmed. Trying to discern what was said, Jeez could finally make out the word "Constantly".

 

Then, the word changed, and Jeez struggled yet again as the voices stated the same word over and over all at different times. Concentrating as best as he could, Jeez finally made out the word "Feeding". Again, the voices changed as they moved to a different word, but this time, it sounded very familiar, and Jeez quickly made out the word "Constantly".

 

Over the course of several minutes, the words constantly shifted as Jeez started to understand them, and he was finally able to put together the phrase, "Constantly feeding, constantly creating. Connected to all in death and life. The One will use death to find life. You will use life to find death. He must create. You must destroy through her. The means will not justify the end."

 

Then, everything seemed to dissipate, and Jeez looked over at a chronometer. It was already well into the morning. Hmm, I don't remember falling asleep, Jeez thought to himself. At least I can finally focus. Feeling exhaustion set in, Jeez concentrated on the Force and once again focused on relaxing his mind. Almost immediately, Jeez drifted off into a deep slumber.

[starmark2k]

Ten Years Ago, 6 months before the end of the Clone Wars

 

Simon watched as the stars streaked around the large viewing window of the Republic Ship, he stood in the forward observation room alone. He was never more at peace than when he watched the stars in hyperspace, they were calming, beautiful and almost hypnotic allowing his mind to wonder and forget where he was. The past couple of months he had been working with the Jedi Knight Kaztra Set and acting as a spy for the Grand Army of the Republic.

 

Simon had only recently come off of a mission where he had to steal some information from a Trade Federation core ship without being detected. He was successful as he was after all selected for this job due to his skills at stealth and infiltration, now he was just waiting to discover if the data he retrieved was worth the effort to get it.

 

“This is my favourite part of the ship.” A familiar voice brought Simon out of his trance. “No matter how much chaos there is in the galaxy, I just come here and find some serenity.” Kaztra Set continued as he stood next to the spy and smiled. “But you already know that.”

 

“I’d prefer an attractive Twi’lek to give me a massage.” Simon joked smiling back at the Jedi General.

 

“Wouldn’t we all.” Master Set replied with a laugh. “You’ve surpassed all my expectations, the information you retrieved has information on all Separatist activity in seven sectors.”

 

“Let me guess the information has led to me getting a new mission.” Simon stated.

 

“Indeed, about two days ago a Jedi went Renegade and joined Dooku. He has fallen to the dark side of the force and has information that if he gives to the Seps could lead to thousands of deaths.” Kaztra informed seriously. “The Jedi Council want you to try and get him alive.”

 

“Why me?”

 

“I informed them of your skills at stealth.” The Jedi stated. “Like myself they believe you can get closer than anyone else or at least be able to snipe him from a distance.”

 

“Snipe, I thought you wanted him alive?”

 

“The mission is to bring him in alive… As long as he lives, he’ll always be a risk” Kaztra paused and looked Simon in the Eyes. “I want you to kill him!”

 

“I’ll do it.” Simon simply stated turning back to look out at the stars.

______________________________________________________

 

Now

 

Nic watched as the stars streaked around the cockpit viewing window of the Hammerspace, he sat in the room alone. As he watched hyperspace his mind had wondered to parts of his life, the things he had done because they were ‘the right thing to do’, things that seemed so right then but now he realised were all mistakes.

 

Now he found himself doing ‘the right thing’ again and wondering if he would soon regret the decision, Beryl deserved better than a broken mercenary. He was use to giving up on what he wanted, who he loved so others could be happy, but it still hurt.

 

Maybe this Conway was what Beryl did needed, he could give her what Nic couldn’t and this realization was all that kept Nic strong.

[JasraLantill]

((joint post w/Niner ))

 

Conn and Beryl made their way to the common area where Max sat at the single large console in the middle of the room. He pulled up two chairs and placed them near to where she sat. "Where's Lana?" he asked.

 

"Getting some much needed shut-eye," Max replied, still tapping away at her keyboard. She was studying the Holonet traffic dating back a few days, from the looks of it. After a few more moments, she minimized her readouts and turned to face Conn and Beryl. "How are you feeling, newsie?" Max asked the blonde pilot as she took a seat.

 

Beryl stared blankly at Max as she took a moment to consider the question. “Broken,” she finally replied, and then she abruptly turned her gaze back to Conn. “So, where’s that caf and the tech stuff you promised?”

 

Conn was surprised at how Beryl blew Max off and was about to say something, but stopped when he didn't feel indignation from the Lorrdian. Instead, he felt a touch of curiosity, and he could see out of the corner of his eye that Max had cocked her head to the side at Beryl. "Well, the tech stuff is here at this console," Conn replied, gesturing towards it.

 

As if on cue, Max stood up and moved towards engineering. "I take it you guys want a bit of caf," she said. "I'll go pry Lena away from the hyperdrive long enough for her to make some."

 

Conn slid into the seat that Max had vacated and pulled up the slicing programs. "You know, she only asked out of concern," Conn told Beryl as he tapped away.

 

Beryl gave him a strange look. “What do you mean?”

 

“Max, asking how you were feeling. She genuinely was concerned.”

 

“And I genuinely answered her.” Beryl nodded to the code cylinder Conn held in his hand. “Now, that has all the current high-level security Imperial codes and….” She frowned at him. “What?”

 

Conn shook his head as he slid the cylinder into the jack. "I hope whatever's on this thing holds the key to bringing the old you back," he said.

 

“What’s on that data cylinder has nothing to do with me,” Beryl said, completely missing the point Conn was making. “It’s catalogue lists and repair manuals of items and equipment shipped to various Imperial stations under my brother’s command. I was trying to make sense of it, and I have some theories, but I wanted a second opinion. A more medical and scientific opinion,” she added.

 

Conn was about to respond when he noticed Beryl's hand, which was on the edge of the table, start to quiver again. He'd noticed it when they were in the medbay before, but it was more pronounced now, making the table top vibrate slightly. "Yeah, we'll see if I can make sense of it," he said, slicing through the different algorithms on the cylinder.

 

Beryl followed Conn’s gaze down to her own hand. She quickly laid it in her lap.

 

Just then, the door to engineering slid open and admitted Lena and Max, both holding steaming mugs of caf. The scent of freshly brewed Corellian caf wafted through the common room.

 

“Here ‘ya go, newsie,” Max said, smiling as she held out a cup for Beryl to take. “Extra strong like the doctor ordered.”

 

“Thank you.” Beryl reached out for the cup but her one hand was shaking so badly that she found she needed to use two hands to steady the cup. She set the cup on the table, then looked up at Conn. “Are you sure that caf is the right thing for me to take right now? I think I need a tranq.”

 

"I don't think you need anymore drugs at this point," Conn responded, taking a mug of caf from Lena. "Other than what's in that cup, that is. So drink up, it'll make you feel human again."

 

“I don’t need a stim,” Beryl protested. “I need a tranq.”

 

“You need to listen to the doctor.” Nic appeared in the doorway. “Is that caf I smell?”

 

“Here.” Lena offered Nic her cup. “I’ll go make another one.”

 

Beryl eyed him up and down. “How’s your leg?”

 

“Fine. Yours?”

 

“Okay.”

 

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, which Beryl finally broke by saying, “We were just going over the data I copied from the Academy library. You want to help us? We could probably use another opinion.”

[Rogue Nine]

((woo joint postiessss wif teh Jazzy :3))

 

Nic nodded, pulling up a seat next to the table and sitting gingerly on it, still favoring his leg. "Do we get popcorn with the show too?" he quipped as he took a sip of caf.

 

Conn smirked. "Things taken from libraries tend to be quite droll, in my experience," he said, splashing data up on the large viewscreen. From first glance, it looked like cargo manifests and inventory listings. "Shipping information?" he said, cocking his head at Beryl.

 

Beryl took a long sip of caf, then placed her mug on the table. “Like I said, it’s a catalogue of manuals for various items and equipment,” she started. “The Empire is very through with training their people, so all the manuals for equipment are catalogued and filed in the library. And Imperial regulations state that all private companies that handle Imperial military contracts need to follow Imperial handling procedures. Requests for these manuals come in to the libraries from facilities that have a particular piece of equipment or item.” She pointed to an entry.

 

“This one, for example, is a request from ChandraMed Forte, a bio-tech company on Chandrila, for handling and disposal instructions for a drug called Clondex. And this one here, is a request from the same company for an operating manual for a new model of centrifuge.”

 

Conn's ears perked up at the words 'Clondex', 'centrifuge' and 'Chandrila'. "Chandrila?" he repeated. "Why would they be sending stuff like Clondex and centrifuges there?"

 

“Well… I’ve got a theory about that.” She began to point out other types of requests from ChandraMed. “Several other drugs, a vial capping machine, animal cages… sounds pretty innocuous to me for a bio-tech firm. But then this is what I think is odd. Hydraulic-pressure gauges? And not just one or two. Hundreds of them and ten different models. Tunnelling equipment? Pipes and connectors? Water filters? What are they doing? Making swimming pools for their workers?” She shook her head. “I think they’re planning to release something into the water supply. But what and why?”

 

Max made a face. "How do they get away with this on Chandrila?" she asked, disgusted.

 

"They're the Empire," Conn said grimly. "They have the money. Money talks. You know that better than most, Max." He tapped a few keys, magnifying one of the inventory listings. "Clondex, Perigen, Symoxin..." he read off, scanning his eyes down the list. He stopped short at the bottom, the last item causing his eyebrows to shoot up. "Lesai? The hell would they need that for..."

 

“What is it?” Beryl wanted to know.

 

"It's a narcotic," Lena stated before Conn could respond. As everyone turned to look at her, the young Firrerreo shrugged her shoulders. "What, you've never done spice or anything?" At their blank looks, she sighed. "Anyway, like I said, it's a narcotic. Makes you not need sleep. Helped me through university."

 

"It also deadens its users' senses, turns them into zombies," Conn stated matter-of-factly, looking at Lena disapprovingly. "It's illegal to possess, but that wouldn't stop the Empire; they're the ones that made it illegal in the first place." He scratched his chin. "So why are they shipping it in such large quantities to Chandrila...?"

 

Beryl frowned at this revelation. “Illegal?” She looked at the manifest again. “Then that has to be a….” She rubbed the space between her eyes. “Nevermind. What you need to be asking is how all these things relate to each other. Drugs? Plumbing equipment? Sounds to me like they are planning on building some sort of water treatment plant with a kick,” she added. “But why? For what purpose? If they wanted to kill people they’d just round them up and charge them with something. Why waste time and resources poisoning them with some kind of spice?”

[starmark2k]

Nic sat thinking over what he was hearing, it was like some kind of sinister mathematic question and things were only adding up to the most terrifying of answers. He took a sip of his cafe and then turned his head to face the rest of the group.

 

“They’re scared.” Nic stated. “Word of rebellion on hat planet has reached the empire, they’re losing control and they can’t afford that on worlds with the influence Chandrila has”

 

Nic looked over at Conn. “You say that spice causes them to become zombies, I’m guessing you mean the kind that won’t fight back, won’t argue and do what they are told rather than the brain eating kind.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Then the Empire wants to do that to Chandrila, bring their order to that world, regain their control over its people.” Nic finished sipping his Caf again. “The Empire are sick.”

[Rogue Nine]

Conn frowned. "It's not quite that cut and dry with Lesai," he said, tapping a few more keys. "Lesai can make people apathetic, but simply introducing that into the water supply isn't going to make all of Chandrila compliant. To do that, you'd need something else to stabilize the enzyme reactions..."

 

Lena bent down for a better look at the listing Conn was poring over. "What about that thing you said before?" she asked, pointing to a drug on the manifest. "Clondex? Says here it's an enzyme regulator or something."

 

"You're right, Lena," Conn replied. "Clondex, along with a few other enzyme regulators, could make this concoction stable enough for introduction to the water supply." He gestured to the screen. "Look at this list. Symoxin, Perigen, Renatyl, they're all painkillers and addictive if abused. Pyrodase and Pyrodene are mood enchancers... Elssa seed extract is a narcotic..." Conn blew a sigh and leaned back in his chair. "The Empire could make one hell of a brew with all this stuff. I don't necessarily know that this will give them full control over Chandrila, but whatever it does, it won't be good at all."

 

"We have to stop him."

 

Conn turned to look at the blonde Corellian next to him. "Beryl?"

[JasraLantill]

“Berasmus,” Beryl said plainly. “He’s the one in charge of supplying this project. We need to stop him.”

 

"And how do you intend for us do that Beryl?" Nic asked not enthusiastic about the prospect. "We're a handful of people. They're the Empire. And I'm sure by now our faces are on the Holonet with massive bounties printed on our foreheads."

 

“Mine’s not,” Beryl said. “For all the Empire knows, you killed Captain Aiken and kidnapped me.”

 

"If that's true or not, security on an operation like his will be tight and we're not exactly at the top of our game at the moment." Nic argued. "I mean we won't get with in 5 parsecs of the system let alone land on the planet."

 

"Not on your ship you won’t," Lena muttered, mostly to herself.

 

Beryl nodded at the security code cylinder that was sitting on the table near Conn. “We’ve got the latest security codes. And we don’t necessarily need to go down in the Echo. Or even this ship for that matter. There are alternatives to get down to Chandrila.

 

“But when we sabotage this project, that will spur Berasmus to personally investigate the matter and bring him out into the open.”

 

“And that’s a good thing?” Conn asked incredulously.

 

Beryl stared at him. “Yes. How else could we entice him out on his own to kill him?”

 

Conn arched an eyebrow at her. "You're going to kill him?"

 

"He murdered Ryshana. He deserves to die."

 

"You killed that Captain,” said Nic. “He had a family. Does that mean you deserve to die?"

 

Beryl considered for a moment. “I killed him because he was going to call in reinforcements. Besides, it was the lecherous mudcrutch’s own fault for being on that ship in the first place.” She paused. “Of course, there is a larger consideration here, too. If this experiment of the Empire’s is successful, they’ll do it on other planets. Maybe Alderaan would be next. Or even Corellia. By stopping Berasmus now, we can save millions of people.”

 

"Wait just a moment," Conn said. "We don't even know what he's planning at this point. It's all speculation." He waved a hand at the screen. "This is just all garbled information. You need to be sure of what you're doing before you rush headlong into a huge Imperial operation."

 

"Thank you," Nic said looking at Conn. "Besides we're Merc's. Let's leave these heroics to the Rebellion, they enjoy dying for unwinnerable causes."

 

“Fine!” Beryl abruptly rose from her chair, spilling her coffee in the progress. Not only were both of her hands shaking now but she was generally trembling all over. “There’s something odd happening on Chandrila, and I’m going to find out what it is! And if you two don’t want to help me, then I’ll do it my kriffin’ self!”

 

Conn sighed and bent over to pick up Beryl's dropped mug. "You're not going to Chandrila by yourself, Beryl," he said, his voice calm and level while surreptitiously extending his empathetic abilities towards her. In her state, he wasn't sure how much good it would do, but he had to try something. "I think they're up to something too. I just want to be sure of what it is."

 

"Ok, Beryl just tell me one thing,” said Nic. “Are you doing this for justice or revenge?"

 

Beryl glared at him. “Don’t judge me!” she snapped at him.

 

“I’m not judging you,” Nic said calmly. “I just want to be sure of the reason why you’re so hell bent on doing this.”

 

“Fine. Then the answer is both. Justice for Ryshana and the people on Chandrila. Revenge for me.” She looked down at her shaking hands, and then at Conn. “I really need that tranq now.”

 

Conn frowned. Whatever regimen the Imperials had put her through, it had altered her mind enough that she did not seem to take to his abilities as easily as before. "No, I don't think you do, Beryl," he replied, putting a hand on her shoulder and trying to guide her back down to sit. "You need to help me figure out the rest of the stuff on these cylinders so we can have the full story by the time we get to Ruusan." He glanced over at Max. "How much longer do we have?"

 

Max checked the chrono on her wrist. "Not more than a couple of hours. We're making good time." She carefully avoided commenting on Beryl's outburst or their findings.

 

"Right, thanks," Conn said, then turned back to Beryl. "We've got plenty of time to go over this data. Besides, you've been pumped so full of drugs these past few months, I hardly think it would be a good idea to give you more. Don't you agree?" He smiled at her, trying to soothe her frazzled nerves.

 

Beryl’s eyes narrowed. “No.” She could feel an anger welling up inside her—along with the Force. “One more dose couldn’t hurt.” She forced the thought into Conn’s mind, not particularly caring how it felt to him.

 

Conn blinked. "Yes it co---", he stopped short, realizing that Beryl hadn't said anything out loud. He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. It was as if Beryl had projected her thoughts into his mind, almost willing him to go along with what she wanted. He studied her cautiously, then sent a suggestion of his own back at her. Is this how far you're going to go, Beryl? You're going to use the Force to get what you want?

 

Beryl frowned slightly with confusion as Conn’s thoughts hit her. Then she blanched, and hurriedly covered her mouth with a trembling hand, both ashamed and surprised by what she had just done. “Oh, Conn, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She turned away from him, catching a glare from Nic in the process. “I don’t know why I did that.”

 

"Never mind about that," Conn said, waving her off. "I'm still pretty hesitant, however, to introduce any more drugs into your system, especially in light of what we've just found out..."

 

Nic had already gotten up and walked over to one of crates he had transferred from the Imperial shuttle. He took out a bottle of the most potent drink he could find and poured it into a glass. "Maybe this will calm your nerves." He handed the glass to Beryl.

 

Before Beryl could take the glass, Conn's hand reached in and snatched it swiftly away. "I hardly think that alcohol is a proper way to medicate oneself, Captain White," he said. He took a sniff of the drink, made a face, then handed it off to Max. "Both of you are recovering from serious injuries and I don't think you should stress your systems with the rigors of alcohol just yet." He turned to Beryl. "Go back to your quarters," he told her. "I'll be along in a few minutes with some sedatives."

 

"It's just one drink Doc, and it looks like she needs something," Nic argued.

 

Beryl looked at the drink Max was holding, then at Nic, and then at Conn. “Think I’d rather have the drink. Don’t need needles for that.”

 

Conn blew an exasperated sigh. "You need rest and recuperation, Beryl," he stated. "You don't need to drown your sorrows away with whatever that is. Now go on."

 

Beryl gave a last look at Nic, then nodded at Conn, and headed out the door. “Yes, sir.”

 

The doctor sighed again and rubbed his eyes. "This 'sir' thing will be the death of me," he muttered to himself, then faced Nic again, who had poured himself another glass of liquor and was taking a swig from it. He shook his head at Nic. "That stuff'll kill ya," he told the sandy-haired captain.

 

"I'm not that lucky" Nic replied quietly to himself taking another swig of his drink.

 

"Dunno what you're talking about, Conn," Max chimed in, slamming the now-empty glass down next to Nic. "That's some good stuff there," she said contentedly, wiping her mouth. She looked to Nic, "Fill 'er up, bartend!"

 

"By the Force," Conn muttered to himself again as he rolled his eyes and turned back to the console.

[Rogue Nine]

Beryl walked into the Smuggler's Rest and paused just in the doorway. She looked around. It was pretty much the same place as she remembered--seedy, stuffy, dim and thoroughly beyond any Imperial control. Smugglers, traders, blockade runners... they were the only ones who knew about this place.

 

"Just like I remember," Beryl said. She breathed a sigh of relief. Turning over her shoulder to Conn, Nic and Max, she said, "C'mon. We can get a private booth in the back."

 

"Watch your backs everyone!" Nic informed. "Last time I was here I... well let's just say people may remember me."

 

“Don’t worry, Nic,” Beryl said confidently. “Even if they do remember you, you’re with me now.” She grinned at him, the first time she had smiled since she had left Carida. “I’ll protect you.”

 

Conn shot a look at Beryl. The sedatives he had recently given her on the Hammerspace were much stronger than the ones he'd previously administered. As a result, she'd slept soundly through the rest of the trip. She seemed better now that she was well-rested. He just hoped that her good cheer would last.

 

"That's good to hear." Nic replied, returning the smile. "I don't feel safe without a Corellian woman protecting me. Unless the doc has objections, I say we hit the bar."

 

Conn shook his head for what seemed like the umpteenth time on this trip. "You people and your alcohol," he said. "After looking through the rest of that manifest, I think I need a drink too."

 

"Good!" Max said, sidling up to the bar. "A round of Whyren's Reserve, please," she called out the bartender.

 

“Just bring the bottle,” Beryl added, and then winked at Max. “You fly, I’ll buy.”

 

*****

 

Their drink order in, the four of them walked through to the back of the establishment and sat down at a secluded booth. Nic and Max sat across from each other on the inside of the bench seat, while Beryl and Conn took the outside. “No sign of Jana, yet,” Beryl commented. She looked at Nic. “I sure hope she got my message.”

 

"She just likes to make an entrance." Nic informed. "You'll know she's here when the Trandoshans start running away out of fear."

 

Beryl looked over at Conn and Max. “Jana’s not really as scary as Nic makes her out to be.” She paused, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. “Wow… seems like ages since I’ve seen her.”

 

The bottle of whiskey arrived, and Beryl poured everyone a shot. She downed hers in one go, and then poured herself another.

 

"Easy there, Beryl," Conn cautioned after taking his shot. "No need to overdo things."

 

Beryl nudged Nic. “See, sir? He and Jana will get along just fine.”

 

"Calm down, Doc. Psycho's spent the last six weeks under the care of Imperials." Nic downed his glass too. "She needs to let her hair down a bit."

 

Conn glanced at Beryl's shortish crop of hair, then arched an eyebrow at Nic. "I'm all for 'letting her hair down'," he said. "As long as it's in moderation."

 

"Beryl's right." Nic agreed. "You and Jana will get along."

 

Beryl grinned. “He’s even got her ‘look’ down pat.” She rested a hand on top of Conn’s. “I’ll try my best to be moderate.” She took a small sip from her shot this time. “So, Max... you had a look at those sec codes. How many of them do you think would work to gain entry into Chandrilan space?”

 

"If we still need some help getting to Chandrila, I can get into contact with some of the people who owe me," Nic informed. "We may be able to piggy back on a supply freighter or something."

 

“Worse comes to worse I’ll borrow a freighter from Rayne and we can just park and ride,” Beryl said. “I’m just thinking that we could…well, make a few extra credits by selling the sec codes to some of the pilots around here. If Max thinks they’ll work.” She looked inquiringly at the Lorrdian.

 

"Lana can make any of those work," Max said. "Kid's got an aptitude for cracking Imperial scrambling algorithms." She poured herself another drink. "She could make you guys out to be royalty if she wanted."

 

"We also have to think about how to get off the planet once we're done," Conn stated. "That last escape plan wasn't so great."

 

"Best way to escape is to have your would be pursuers looking in the wrong direction." Nic stated. “We'll need to create a distraction, or have someone else do that for us."

 

Reminded about the prison escape by Conn’s comment, Beryl downed the rest of her drink, and poured herself another one, purposefully not looking at him as she did so. “But I suppose the escape plan will depend on what kind of facility they’ve set up. With all that tunnelling equipment they’ve got, I’m betting it’s something underground. And if they’re planning on releasing something into the water supply, it’s got to be in or near an urban area. So, escape is just a matter of getting out of the facility and back to the surface. Once topside, there should be plenty of opportunities for distractions. Public transport, marketplaces, cantinas….”

 

"It would be easier if we had help from the inside," Conn said, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. "I used to work on Chandrila, for the medical sciences division," he stated quietly.

 

“Oh?” Beryl looked at him. “Do you know anyone that still works there?”

 

"Maybe," he said. "It's been nearly 15 years since I was last on Chandrila. I don't know if anyone there will remember me." He looked each of his companions, settling gaze on Beryl last. "But if it'll help us keep out of trouble just a little bit, I'll give it a shot."

 

“Couldn’t hurt,” Beryl agreed. “And if that fails, I‘ve got a few contacts of my own.” She looked askance at Nic. “From my pre-Echo days.” Her eyes settled on Conn once again. “Those were good days.” She put her hand back on top of Conn's and squeezed.

 

"They were," Conn agreed, feeling the warmth of her hand travel through his. She was definitely more affectionate when she was medicated. Normalizing her circulatory system is gonna be a bear, he thought to himself.

 

“What?” Beryl tilted her head to one side. She was getting a strange feeling from Conn through the Force. “Something wrong?”

 

"No, everything's fine," he replied, taking another swig and letting the whiskey burn down his throat. He set his glass back down on the table and locked eyes with Beryl again. "It's just good to have you back, B."

[steven]

Jack, who had fallen into a light sleep in his cockpit, was jolted awake by the Echo jumping out of hyperspace and into the orbit of Ruusan. Jack thought about using the intercom to inform the crew that they had arrived however Jack decided that the jolt was a clear sign and telling everyone would be pointless.

 

Taking ahold of the controls, Jack controlled the Echo to descend towards the planets surface. Jack had never been to Ruusan before. This was mainly because he never had any reason to. The planets most intreeging aspect was the rumored lost ancient Jedi temples which was no interest to Jack.

 

(sorry for it seeming to be imcomplete however I've gotta rush. I may edit later)

[starmark2k]

Nic couldn’t watch as Beryl and Conn showed their affections too each other, although they were subtle and not meaning to cause harm he found it hard to look at. It was a price of the sacrifice he had made to let Beryl go, to give her a chance and be happy with Conn.

 

Nic stood up as the two Corellians locked eye and walked away from the table over to the bar, he quickly ordered the strongest drink in the house not much caring what it actually was.

[Writer]

As soon as the Echo left hyperspace, Jana entered the cockpit. She looked out at Ruusan in silence for a moment. Then, she shifted into the co-pilot's seat and glanced over at Jack.

 

"Ready to get Beryl an..." she began, but she realized that Jack and everyone else on the crew were unaware of Nic's survival. She finished, "...nnd get back to a more normal routine?"

 

Noticing Jack's odd look shot in her direction, Jana decided the crew had to know. "Jack, I've uncovered something recently... something the whole crew should know. Nic didn't die two months ago. He's still alive. And now, he's with Beryl. We'll be picking him up too."

 

She smiled faintly. "Definitely more back to normal, eh?" she concluded softly.

[stingerhs]

Back on Fondor

 

"Turrets at 10 o' clock!!" Blue yelled out as he dove for cover. Almost immediately, red blaster bolts began impacting where he previously stood. Diving for cover as well, Jeez hid behind a corner in the hallway while he caught sight of Blue wedged up in a recess in a wall where a door was located behind him.

 

"Blue, try and get that door open," Jeez ordered as he peered around the corner. Up ahead just past where Blue was hiding there was a wide open room. It looked like a conference room of some kind with a long table that had at least 20 chairs tucked in under it. In the middle, Jeez could see a holographic projector, and then, Jeez got an idea. Using the Force, Jeez activated the projector from a distance.

 

In the middle of the table, a ghost-like image of Count Dooku appeared, and it began speaking about something or another. Jeez didn't really bother to notice as blaster bolts suddenly began flying everywhere. Jeez was quick to notice, however, that the bolts were intersecting with the hologram which meant one thing: the hologram was confusing the targeting computers for the turrets.

 

"The door is open," Blue stated over the com. "Looks like its just a storage closet."

 

"Nevermind the door, Blue. On my mark, get ready to take out those turrets. No sparkers," Jeez ordered as he made reference in the last part to the EMP grenades that were attached to Blue's belt.

 

"Yes sir, awaiting your signal," Blue responded as he prepared to turn the corner. Ahead, the hologram was beginning to flicker as the projector struggled to produce the correct image with all the blaster bolts flying through it. Finally, though, the projector cut off and shot sparks everywhere as it overloaded.

 

"Mark!" Jeez yelled out as he quickly turned the corner. Sighting the blaster turret through the sights on his rifle, Jeez shot off a burst of fire from his DC-17. All of his round impacted on the turret which burned a number of circuits. It wasn't enough, though, and a hail of blaster fire shot out in Jeez's direction. Diving for cover behind the conference table, several blaster bolts pinged off his shields before Jeez landed where he had wanted to land.

 

A number of blaster bolts still sounded out, and Jeez caught sight of Blue unloading his rifle on the turret. Before he could give Blue an order, a number of blaster bolts impacted on Blue in the chest. The first couple of bolts deflected off his shields, but the rest impacted him right in the armor as the shield failed. Slumping down in pain, Blue clutched his chest as he dropped his rifle.

 

"Don't move, Blue!" Jeez yelled out. Blue was just far enough away from the conference table to still be in the line of fire of the turret, and Jeez wondered for a second on what to do. Risking all, Jeez crawled over to Blue and grabbed him by the leg. Using every ounce of strength in him, Jeez yanked Blue as hard as he could so that he was behind the table. A number of blaster bolts impacted the ground and the table behind him, but fortunately, they missed both Blue and Jeez.

 

"Blue, report!" Jeez stated as he tried to pry Blue's hands away from his chest to look at the damage.

 

"It's not too bad, sir. Could use some bacta, though," Blue responded as he tried to hide the pain in his voice. Moving one of his hands down to his belt, Blue took one of the EMP grenades up to his chest. "With all due respect, sir, its time for the fireworks."

 

Jeez just nodded in reply as Blue twisted the grenade to activate the fuse. Waiting about a second, Blue quickly tossed the grenade at the turret. Jeez crouched in anticipation, and the grenade went off about a second later. The shield monitors flashed red as Jeez's shields instantly drained from the EMP shockwave. Standing up in a firing position, Jeez sighted the turret which was sparking like crazy from the numerous shorts in its system. Squeezing off a number of rounds, the turret sizzled and burned as it was destroyed beyond recognition.

 

Looking over beside him, Jeez saw Blue grab his rifle as he tried to stand up. Helping him, Jeez kept an eye on the door the turret had been guarding. Slapping Blue on the shoulder, Jeez moved over to the door around the conference table. Following him close behind, Blue kept an eye out for trouble.

 

"Adviser, please confirm that our target should be on the other side of this door, over," Jeez stated over the comm.

 

"That's affirmative, 14. Is something wrong?" Ryshana responded.

 

"Negative, adviser. Just happy to be close to the objective," Jeez replied. "Double Niner and Torch, we need you up here ASAP."

 

The lights on his helmet HUD lighted up for Niner and Torch in confirmation. As they waited for them to arrive, Jeez reached down in his emergency pack and pulled out his one bacta injector. Placing it on a special port near the bio-monitor on Blue's armor, Jeez pressed a button, and a metallic click was heard as the bacta was injected into the Health Administration System. "Thanks," Blue responded. Nodding in acknowledgment, Jeez turned around to keep an eye on the door.

 

____________________

 

Back on the Echo

 

Jeez and Cloud felt the Echo jolt out of hyperspace. "Well, I guess we're here," Cloud commented as he looked over at Jeez across the table in the common room. Between them was a Dejaric board, and it was rather apparent that Jeez was losing. Cloud then moved a piece down towards the middle of the board. "Checkmate."

 

Jeez looked up at Cloud for a moment and then back down at the board. Trying to figure out all the possible moves, Jeez then realized that Cloud was right: there were no moves that he could take that would bring him out of check. Sighing, Jeez then said, "We need to find a new game."

 

Smiling at Jeez, Cloud laughed as he said, "Hey, its not my fault you've never played this before. Don't give up, especially against an amateur like me."

 

"Amateur?? I hate to ask, but what does that make me, then?"

 

"A n00b. Don't worry, I'm sure that you have a lot things that you're much better than me with," Cloud stated.

 

"You're so reassuring," Jeez commented dryly as he peered around the corner towards the cockpit. Not seeing anyone, Jeez then said, "Well, I'm going to go check on our progress."

 

"Or lack thereof?" Cloud commented.

 

"Something like that," Jeez replied as he got up from the table. Heading down to the cockpit, Jeez looked out the window as Jack steered the Echo down to the surface of Ruusan.

 

"Definitely more back to normal, eh?" Riebe concluded.

 

"Define normal," Jeez stated. "I've never had 'normal', and for some reason, I don't think I'm about to get normal either."

[Writer]

"I said more normal," Jana countered. "Didn't say normal... nothing can bring us back to that..." She paused for a moment. "But I sense Nic is alive... and he's with Beryl. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to inform the rest of the crew before we land, take on our not-so-dead captain, and throw them into a fit of disbelief and suspicion."

 

As she was on her way out of the cockpit, she instructed, "Jack, go ahead and take us in for a landing now."

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Teser Quitaan had gotten tired of waiting for the Echo to show up and determined he'd make the best of this trip... and finish off by seeing his sister. So he landed the shuttle he'd been given, sent an information packet to the HIN, and headed for the Smuggler's Rest.

 

When he arrived at the Rest, he was rather surprised to see Beryl was already there, sitting, talking, and drinking with a group of people, only two of which he recognized (not counting his sister, of course). The first was Nic White, which threw Teser for a loop. He'd been one of the data sorters who'd filed the fact that Nic White/Simon Raikelli was dead. He blinked for a moment and concluded that information always ran the risk of being false.

 

The other person Teser recognized was Conway Harlowe. Now that threw him for a loop. On a whim once, he'd looked into Beryl's old friend and had discovered he was serving time as a doctor in an Imperial prison facility. That piece of information had lodged in his mind and now, he found it rather surprising to see what Conn was up to. He strode over to the table, coming up behind Beryl.

 

"You're keeping some interesting friends, little sis," he remarked. Gesturing to Nic, and then to Conn, he added, "By all accounts... dead, and Imperial doctor." He frowned and admitted. "Though that was a few weeks ago..."

[Rogue Nine]

"Ex-Imperial doctor," Conn corrected, looking the newcomer over. Same blonde hair, same Corellian glint in the eyes... Yeah, this was another of Beryl's brothers. Conn decided he much preferred this one to Berasmus, however. He stood up and held out his hand. "Conn Harlowe," he said by way of introduction.

[Writer]

"I gathered the 'ex' part from seeing you here," Teser quipped. He shook Conn's hand. "Teser Quitaan. It's been a good long while, but I do recall Beryl mentioning you a few times." He looked down at his sister. "Beryl, aren't you going to introduce me to the rest of your friends?"

[JasraLantill]

At the sudden arrival of her brother Teser, Beryl’s mouth dropped in shock as she turned her head to look at him. Months ago, before the Imperial prison caper, before even Ryshana had come aboard the Echo, she had been told that Teser was missing. As there had been no word of him for over a year, it was assumed by the rest of her brothers, bar his identical twin Telk, that he was most likely dead. Yet here he was—looking fit and healthy and shaking hands with Conn.

 

“Teser?” She blinked as a tear welled in her eye, then stood up and gave her brother a great big hug. “Teser! Oh, you’re alive! Rayne said… well, we all thought you were dead!”

 

Teser chuckled as he hugged her back. "Nice to see you, too, Beryl,” he said as he gently broke her tight embrace. "It's been a long time. And, as you can see, I’m still alive and kicking.”

 

Beryl nodded. “So, you are. Well, you've met Conn. This is Max, owner of the Hammerspace," she gestured to the Lorridian, "and that's Nic, over there at the bar. And...” Without warning, she drew her arm back, her hand formed into a fist, and she decked him hard enough on the chin to lay him out flat on the floor.

 

There was a sudden silence as the patrons in the bar took notice. But Beryl didn't care.

 

“You kriffin' son of a gundark!” She pointed a finger down at him as she shouted. “Just where in the Nine Hells have you been?! Don’t you know that we've been worried sick about you?! It was only because Telk was so positive that you were still alive, that Rayne didn't plan your funeral!” Still angry at him, she kicked him in the leg for good measure. "So, you'd better have a damn good explanation!"