munnin: (Jedi)
[personal profile] munnin
Title: Arguments End - Act 1 – The Night’s Wing – Sera
Fandom: Star Wars.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit and no offence meant. Everyone is of the age of consent in their country and period of history
Author’s notes: This ‘verse started as a first anniversary gift for the members of the Canberra Star Wars Collectors Club. This was part one of the original story.

Summary: There’s being flexible, and then there’s tap-dancing on quicksand.

Sera stepped out of the bar and into the street, pulling up her hood. Her long, determined strides through the market swept back the skirts of her long jacket to reveal the blaster pistols at her hips but hide the lightsaber holstered on her lower back.

She paused for a moment by a scrap-merchant’s stall, using the reflections to check for tails. Her mission to find a way into the Corellia smuggling ring had put her in contact with some pretty unsavoury characters and she had no desire to risk her cover now. Her career as a bounty hunter and procurer gave her plenty of practice dealing with all sorts...

Including the Jedi...

The communicator buzz softly in the hidden pocket in her jacket and she found a quiet corner to slip out of view. Glancing around to be sure of her surroundings, she palmed the little comm. and flicking the channel open.

“Commander D’rue.” She acknowledged with a nod as the little holo lit up in her hand, showing the solemn face of their leader and her partner of many years. Despite his standing within the Order, Sera knew full well the Jedi didn’t like answering to Master.

“We’ve intercepted a distress signal from planet Glebe.” He relayed the message, graining and broken as it was. “Jedi Master Chrys and his troopers are stranded on the planet.”


BEEEPPPP ... INCOMING TRANSMISSION ... BEEEPPP .

"R Fouurr !! .. dispatch the transmission to the nearest system and I'll ask Master Plo Koon to send the transmission to Master Jedi .. kkrrr .. sswweettuuiittt .. "

Masters!!! ... kkrrrttttttttttttt ..

I will try to jump into hyperspace on Friday night and hopefully arriving on time to Koko system on Saturday .. kkrrrrr ... srreewww ... after ... no ...on ppsssrrrr ..

we are under heavy attack by the trade .. kkrrrrrrrrr .. ssssrttttt... .. feedderat... ion .. hhrrrr.. kkrrrr...

Master Windu and Master Plo Koon are on the way here as we are ... kkrrrttttt... ssttyyyyyy... BBBOOOOMMMM !!!!! AARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!! ....

R Foouurrrr !!!!!! .. what it .. COMMA .. rrrtttsstttt .. ND ... ERRR !!!! ... WAAATCH .. .. hhuummm. hhuummm ppeewwsstt.. ssttttt... R Foouurrrrrrrr !!!!!.... ssrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....


TRANSMISSION LOST ... UNABLE TO RECONNECT ...


She tabbed through the Jedi Master’s message, feeling her own heart speed up with the desperation of his plight. “How far off are his re-enforcements?”

“Too far.” D’rue muttered ruefully. “And even if they get there ahead of us, the planetary defences are so tight. The council won’t risk their ships on a frontal assault. I know your negotiations on Corellia are important...”

“Understood.” She flicked the communicator closed and switched to audio only, pulling the mike down over her ear as she took off towards the hanger. “How much do we know about the situation down there?”

“Very little, I’m relaying the information to you now. We have received nothing more; Master Chrys transitions may be being blocked.”

Her ship – the Night’s Wing was sleek and black and looked out of place on the ground. It was meant as a hunter’s ship – fast and small to slip through the cracks with little to no space to spare. The ‘Wing had room for a pilot maybe one passenger but it wasn’t exactly a comfortable ride. She sent a brief prayer to the living force that Master Chrys was still alive and not badly injured. Getting him out in the Wing wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Do not engage Sera!” D’rue warned, as if reading her mind. “The others are on route but I need a situation report and any intel you can gain. Get in, get out and let me know what’s going on.”

“I’ll have to stow my cargo.” She muttered, almost to herself. “I suspect they’ll need all the medical supplies I can lay hand to.”

“Anything you can fit in. Just let me know if you need help acquiring-”

She cut him off with a tsk and a dismissive wave she knew he couldn’t see but would know anyway. “You’re four systems away and far from a provisions port. I think I can manage it.” She climbed up and unclipped her cargo nets. “Just let Tori know he wouldn’t be getting his new toys just yet. He’ll cry if I have to tell him.”

“Will do Sera. May the Force be with you.”

“And you D’rue.” She sighed as she signed off. Above her, her droid R1B3 beeped and whistled, “Yeah I know,” she muttered as she lowered the gear crates to the floor of the hanger, “but it’s what we do now.”

R1 beeped something rude and started pushing the crates around as Sera searched through her contacts. There had to be someone nearby who could get her a cargo of medical supplies and quick.

***

Glebe was a ball of swirling green and blue from the air with great scars of grey. The intel D’rue got her gave her a vague sense of where Master Chrys and his troopers should be but her own sensors registered the placement of the planetary defence cannons.

R1 whistled low and troubled, flashing navigational charts across Sera’s screen.

Sera whistled in return. “Oh technobuggery! This is going to be tight. Let’s hope those upgrades Tori installed work.”

R1 squeaked impolitely. There was no love lost between the droid and the soft-spoken mechanic of her team. His constant desire to fiddle, upgrade and tinker offended the spirited little droid’s desire to be left alone and more than once R1 had zapped the clone for trying.

“Alrighty.” Sera muttered, pulling the nav computer over her eye and punched the activation sequence for the cloaking device that took up so much room on her little ship. “Let’s punch it.”

The droid screamed in her ear as they hurtled towards the planet.

***

Grie dropped to the ground, his rifle ready in his hand as something crashed through the trees above them. He signalled for his remaining troops to flank as branches bent and broke.

Before them a ship appeared, as if from nowhere, its flanks smeared with mud and scratched.

“Poodoo!” A voice muttered from the cockpit. “That’s gunna leave a dint.” A dark hair woman clambered out, brushing leaves off her canopy. She ignored the troopers as she climbed down, too busy swearing at the black and blue droid whose head swivel in the ship’s nose. “What happened to that clear landing site you promised me, hey?”

The droid beeped dismissively as the woman’s boots crunched on the undergrowth. Dark and well-worn Jedi robes settled around her thighs as she landed, her lightsaber at her hip. The tribal tattoos of her people adorning the lines of her cheeks.

Grie lowered his gun as he took in her appearance. As a clone he was programmed to respond to obey the Jedi, after all that was what he was created to do. “Sorry Commander, we had no warning of your arrival.”

“And not every solider wears a uniform.” She answered with the rote learning of the clones. “I completely understand.” She reached up to pop the latch of her the cargo hold. “I’m just glad the cloak worked. I was a little worried coming through the ion field but it doesn’t look like they spotted me.” A pair of troopers stepped up to help her unload the crates of medical and food supplies. “I figured you guys’d be sick of dry rations by now.”

She grinned, falling in step as they double timed the supplies back to camp. “So? What’s the situation?”

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September 2017

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