TIE Fighter: Command Decisions

Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I think you all know this part by now.

Rurik paced back and forth in the wide marble hall of the Governor's mansion on Telamara. Once he'd managed to convince the strangely paranoid planetary control that they really weren't a threat, getting through to his old sponsor had been surprisingly easy. Governor Rothen had immediately dispatched an escort for them, and a med tech to take care of Thelea, whose arm hadn't improved much on the trip-combination of exhaustion and lack of treatment, the tech had noted, and escorted her off to the medical quarters. Giriad, Rurik, and Aleishia had been brought to the mansion, given rooms, a change of clothes, time to freshen up, and absolutely no explanation for the heavy security obvious everywhere on the planet.

"Do we really have to get all dressed up?" Giriad tugged at the collar of the civilian jacket he'd been given-Imperial gray, of course, if not the height of fashion. "I'd rather have a uniform."

"This from the spoiled rich kid?" Rurik was wearing a black suit of clothes, similar in cut to Giriard's. "If it makes the governor happy, I'll wear it. If we cooperate, maybe they'll explain what everyone's so nervous about."

"I'm more concerned with who's going to tell the Executor how we got here." He studied the huge marble columns that lined the corridor. "We're gonna get court-marshaled."

"We are not. It isn't our fault, exactly." The sound of footsteps brought him around, reaching for a blaster he of course wasn't wearing. "Oh, it's you. See they dressed you up, too."

Aleishia was wearing a dark blue dress, a neutral, sedate style common to the upper middle class on Telamara-Rurik's own mother had sometimes worn dresses like it. "I don't think my robes would really be appropriate, do you?" Her face was impassive as always, with that faint smile. "And I thank you for not. . .announcing my identity. I doubt the governor would be understanding."

"Yeah." Rurik still wasn't entirely comfortable with the story they had given the governor about Aleishia's presence. "Just as long as you don't go around pulling any of those. . . ." He wiggled his fingers.

Aleishia shrugged. "I don't think those. . ." and she mimicked the gesture, "will be required here. Have you heard anything yet about Thelea's condition?"

"I was just about to ask you." That took care of Rurik's attitude problem. "They haven't said anything. I figure that must be good."

"As far as I can tell, she's fine. I'd know if she were in a great deal of pain. Hopefully they'll let her join us for dinner."

"I've just spoken with the doctors, and he assured me that the Commander will be able to join us." The speaker was a tall, whip-thin man with patrician features, wearing the formal dress uniform of an Imperial Governor. "Rurik. . .I'm sorry about all the confusion. How are you, boy?"

"I've been better, Governor Rothan," Rurik admitted. "We're kind of in a jam here."

"That might describe our situation here," the Governor admitted. Then, always conscious of the formalities, he turned to Giriad. "Lieutenant Quoris, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Governor Aaren Rothan. Rurik doesn't write his old sponsor much, but he has mentioned you and Commander Thelea, both very favorably."

"Thank you, sir." Giriad was trying his best to look properly Imperial, not helped by the discomfort of the clothes.

"Don't be too grateful. I wasn't that generous." Rurik might be on his better behavior, but at the moment he didn't quite feel like being at his best. "May I present Aleishia, a. . .friend who helped us out while we were stranded. There was some unpleasantness getting here, and she decided to join us."

Aleishia gave an elegant half-bow, her hands folded serenely before her. Rurik had a brief image of how the gesture might look were she wearing the cowled robes, and a shiver ran down his spine. There was something far more serene and courtly about her than anyone he'd ever seen here at the palace or even from Coruscant, and it chilled him. "Governor, your hospitality is most generous."

The Governor returned the bow before he even seemed to realize it. "Madame. Welcome to Telamara." He glanced briefly over the three of them. "From what I was told, my daughter took your Commander to get cleaned up, and they'll be joining us in the dining room. If you'll follow me?"

Rurik fell in just a step behind the Governor, close enough to talk but far enough for a little respect. "Is it just me, or are things a little more tense than usual?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Governor Rothan was making a pretense at levity, but it wasn't working.

"The third degree we got the minute we came in-system. Not that a flock of old TIE/Ins really scared us all that much, but we've never had that kind of patrol here before. Something has to be going on."

The Governor's thin face twisted. "You picked a rather bad time to visit home, Rurik. We've been having problems and the Core is so busy fighting the Rebellion, we're on our own."

"Problems with who?"

"You're a very persistent young man, Rurik. I always liked that about you."

"Then humor me and tell me what's going on." He gave Rothan his best disarming grin, one he'd have never dared with his superiors aboard ship.

Rothan sighed. "All right. We've been attacked, repeatedly, by ships no one's seen before, who then disappear before we can respond. They've hit our supply ships from the Core when they drop out of hyperspace, they've disabled the one orbital defense station we had, ships attempting to leave are fallen on...we're lucky we still have communications. You were rather fortunate they didn't spot you coming in."

Rurik looked at Giriad and knew the other pilot was thinking the same thing. "They don't use some kind of pulse energy weapon, do they?" Rurik asked carefully.

"Big black ships, weird configuration?" Giriad added.

Rothan stared. "Not very big, but yes, some sort of pulse-phase, we think-at least, we assume. No one who's gotten close enough to analyze has lasted long enough to do any detailed research."

Aleishia's impassive eyes seem to flicker, darkening briefly. "Sounds vaguely familiar," she noted quietly.

Rurik explained, "We got stranded when the freighter we were escorting was yanked out of hyperspace by some sort of capital ship near Dhregan-not as big as an ISD-II, but big enough. It vaped the transport and took off. We managed to limp to one of the moons, but we still haven't been able to get word to the fleet."

"You're stationed aboard Executor, aren't you?" Rothan asked, and there was a faint note of pride audible even under the tension. "No one's been able to find the Outer Rim fleet-we certainly haven't, at any rate."

"We've been chasing the Rebels since the assault on Hoth. The ones that got away scattered and it's turned into this huge mopping-up operation," Giriad explained. "Most of the time we don't even know what system we're in ourselves."

Rothan nodded soberly. "We've heard that the kill at Hoth wasn't as clean as it might have been."

"Admiral Ozzel made a mistake," Rurik snapped a bit defensively. He was getting a little sick of the mop-up trips, too, but he was also getting tired of hearing how they should have managed to wipe out one pathetic group of rebels. If the rebels were that pathetic, they'd had been dead by now. "We've been the ones paying for it-at least until we got shunted off on an escort mission out of a nightmare."

They were approaching the ornate carved doors of the dining room, which, like most of the other doors in the palace, were made of the local trees and were a deep black with a bluish tinge. The two stormtroopers to either side straightened to attention-not that it was far off from how they'd been standing already-and the doors swung open. "Aaren, there you are," said a woman's voice. "I thought you had gotten our guests lost."

"Merely catching up with Rurik, Caia," Rothan said, going to greet the tall, slender woman who had probably, when she was younger, been considered pretty and now had a refined, dignified sort of beauty. Her hair, like her husband's, was marked with gray, but had at one point certainly been a brilliant red.

"Rurik, how are you?" Caia Rothan extended both hands to him. "We never hear from you and I worry."

"I'm fine, ma'am," he said, feeling very much the child again. He'd been one of the 'bad influences' on their daughter, but Caia Rothan had never held it against him-she'd always seemed on a mission to straighten out her wild daughter and her daughter's friends, and she considered Rurik one of her success stories. He suspected, however, she still regarded him as a little boy who needed watching. She and Thelea, he reflected, would probably get along just fine.

The table was set for eight, but so far they were the only ones in the room. "Where's Thelea and the others?"

"Gena was finding something appropriate for Commander Thelea to wear to dinner." Caia's face creased a bit. "I understand there was a bit of a problem."

Giriad laughed. "I can just imagine." Rurik shot him a look. "Well, think about it. Have you ever seen her wear anything that wasn't standard-issue?"

"Besides that jumpsuit? No," he admitted. There was a sound of footsteps and voices from the hall, including one rather familiar one raised in protest. "From the sound of it we're not going to." But Aleishia was smiling faintly, and her eyes had the distant, knowing expression that had gotten progressively more irritating over the past few days.

"I told you, I'm not going in there!" That was definitely Thelea's voice coming from the hall. One of the huge oak doors cracked open and a woman with bright auburn hair and a marked resemblance to Caia Rothen popped her head in.

"Won't be a moment!" the governor's daughter said cheerfully. "Just a bit of problem here. Hello, Rurik-nice to see you again!" Then she vanished, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Hello, Gena," Rurik said to the door. Then he looked at the governor. "Married life hasn't mellowed her any, has it?" Rothan shook his head silently.

The door opened again, and this time Gena stepped all the way through. "Sorry about that. Commander Thelea just had a few concerns about the clothing I found for her."

From outside, Thelea's voice carried clearly. "I am not coming in. I'd rather have a uniform, any uniform."

Rurik looked over at Giriad, eyebrows raised, and saw the same curiosity he was feeling on his wingman's face. "Thelea, I'm sure it can't be that bad. Come on, show us. You can laugh at what we look like in our civvies, too."

"I'd do that anyway," she snapped, but she pushed the door open and stepped through. "All right, you have permission to laugh at a superior officer. I am certainly out of uniform."

Laughing was actually not the first thing that came to Rurik's mind. Picking up his jaw from where it had dropped off completely and rolled into the corner was a priority, that and finding an appropriate place to direct his eyes. To say Thelea was out of uniform was an understatement. The dress, probably borrowed from Gena, fit her rather well. Bare at the shoulders save for narrow straps, the neckline curved gracefully down, drawing the eye to a place he suspected she wouldn't appreciate him looking. A light, warm-weather material, the dark silver fabric fell loose from the waist down, and it made a rustling whisper as she moved. Her cobalt hair was the only familiar aspect, still in its utilitarian braid down her back. All in all, she had everything that was appealing about a human female, with the added exotic touches of her skin and hair. The burning red eyes dared him or anyone to comment.

Governor Rothan was the first to recover. "Please, join us, Commander." He gestured to a chair to his right, across from Rurik.

"Only if you promise to serve answers along with dinner." She took the proffered seat. "Not that I mind the hospitality, especially the medical treatment, but Governor, there's something going on around here, and I'd very much like to know what. We have to get back to our ship, and if something's preventing that, I feel we should know."

The serving droids placed the first course, a sliver of a rich pate made from the herd animals that ranged in the hills outside the city. The governor poked at his for a moment before replying. "As I explained to Rurik, it's something of a local problem. Unfortunately, with the war, there isn't much the Empire can do to help us."

Thelea tasted the food briefly and set down her fork. "What, exactly, is the problem?"

Rurik answered before Governor Rothan could speak. "It sounds like the same . . . whatever-they-ares who attacked the Aris Val. Know any other races that use weapons like they had?"

For some reason, Thelea found her eyes drawn to the Jedi woman. "No," she said quietly, "not in this sector, at any rate."

"Whoever they are, they're getting bolder," Gena said. "Dallen's told me that even the security forces are worried. If it's enough to scare stormtroopers-"

"Your husband is well-intentioned and very devoted to his duty, Gena, but he and his troops are worrying needlessly." Rothan's tone left little room for argument. "We won't have to evacuate."

"Even if you did, how could you get everyone off-world?" Rurik asked. He meant the question as rhetorical, but the uneasy glances between the governor and his wife and daughter made him wonder. "I mean, you couldn't just leave everyone outside the capital, and it would take much a long time to find everyone out in the hills."

Rothan sighed. "That's true. Though it is what Dallen's been suggesting. At least sending Gena and Caia to Coruscant, where they'd be safe."

"He means well, Father," Gena sighed.

They won't be safe there, either, Aleishia murmured. Thelea looked sharply at her, but the others didn't seem to have heard. They didn't even seem to notice she'd spoken at all.

"We didn't see any signs of them when we arrived," Rurik said. "Maybe we can just slip out the same way."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. You can't just arrive aboard the Executor in an antique like you flew here, and we can't simply give you a shuttle. That means being part of a convoy to the nearest supply area." The governor shook his head. "Every convoy we've tried to send out has been wiped out before they could jump to light speed, or they've had to retreat."

"It's almost as if they can sense which ships are people trying to escape," Gena added. "A few of the local traders have tried running their blockade. Their ships were destroyed even faster than our transports."

The droids cleared away the plates and brought the second course, some sort of fish-the capital had, centuries ago, been primarily a seaport and the harvest was still a part of the economy. Thelea picked at hers as she'd done the first dish, eating just enough to appear polite. "What about your fighters?"

"What you saw coming in was more or less it," Rothan admitted. "We're not well-armed."

"Do you have anything hyperspace-capable? If we could fly escort, we might have a better chance, but I don't want to get left behind again."

"A few lambda-class shuttles and the larger supply transports, but nothing fighter-sized," the governor said. "The only fighters we have are the TIE\Ins you saw."

Thelea nodded slowly. "Great. So we either run for it and get blasted to bits, or we sit here and wait for the fleet to arrive, which won't be any time soon."

"Aren't we the optimist," Rurik commented. "Not that I'm in favor of taking on a ship like the one we ran into with TIE/Ins, but it's better than sitting here. What if they decide to come after the planet?"

"Then we'll have choice but to evacuate as many as we can, and hope that some transports escape." Gena smiled weakly. "Sounds a little like those rebels you're always chasing."

Rurik chose not to grace that with a reply, and he noticed Giriad and Thelea didn't, either. "There's got to be some way for us to run whatever blockade they've got. We have the ship we came in on, and your fighters and pilots. There has to be a plan in there somewhere."

"When you find one, by all means, let me know." Rothan dropped his fork. "Somehow I'm not hungry right now."

Thelea stood up. "Neither am I. Governor, if you wouldn't mind, please have a list of the defense forces you do have made available to me. A datapad readout will be fine."

Aleishia raised an eyebrow. "Not very polite of you, Thelea. After all the trouble they've gone to making you presentable." There was an amused gleam in the older woman's eyes.

"Much as I appreciate the gesture, I'd be more useful figuring out a way off this planet, and if I can figure out how to take out those black ships in the process, so much the better. Governor, Madame, thank you for your hospitality." She turned and headed for the door, and Rurik couldn't help noticing that the back of the gown was as flattering as the front, if not more so.

Telamara had two moons, one waxing and one a sliver in the eastern sky. Rurik leaned on railing of the balcony, wondering what else was up there tonight. When he'd been a boy, living in one of the capital's less-affluent sections, he'd loved to look up at the stars and dream about flying. Now he just wondered where the enemy was, and how many of them there were. Being in the military sure took all the romance out of stargazing.

He didn't turn at the sound of footsteps. He'd known Thelea long enough he could recognize her without looking. "Rurik, I've been looking over what the governor sent me. When he said they didn't have much, he was being generous. That group that game after us and one other-that's it for fighters. We might be better off making a run for it in the Infiltrator, crowded as it is . . . Rurik, are you listening?"

"Sometimes I wish I'd been a charter pilot like my mother said," he murmured absently, and then turned to look at her. "I thought you didn't like that dress."

She glanced down at the silver fabric, red eyes unreadable as always. "My jumpsuit's not clean, and this isn't that uncomfortable. I do wish it had a weapons belt."

He laughed, despite the glare it was sure to earn him. "I think it looks fine the way it is." She ducked her chin, and he wondered if the Chiss were capable of blushing. "What were you saying about the Infiltrator?"

"I was saying, it might be best if we just made a run for it. The Infiltrator's cloak system might be long gone, but it's still faster than anything else they have that's hyperspace-capable." She rested her elbows on the balcony rail, studying the datapad she was carrying. "We might be able to get to the fleet and get help."

"By the time we find them, it may be too late." He turned to face her. "I know that our first priority should be getting to the Executor, filing our report and hoping that they don't bust us all to ensign without hearing our explanation, but this is my home. I just can't abandon everyone here."

"I understand." She didn't sound convinced. "And however we do this, we'll have to leave Aleishia here. If she comes back to the Executor, Vader will kill her."

"I know. Rothan doesn't know what she is, and even if he suspects, I don't think he'd turn her in. Not after she helped us."

Thelea was still looking at the datapad. "I feel sorry for her, but I don't know what else we can do."

"I get the feeling she can take care of herself. If she couldn't, she'd be dead already." He paused. "Do you suppose they were all like her? The Jedi, I mean."

"The Jedi were rabble-rousers and dangers to the stability of the galaxy." She recited the party line, but she no longer sounded quite so convinced. "In any case, there's nothing we can do. Either for her, or for this world. Not with what they have here." She tapped the screen.

"I'm not going to run away. This is home. I have to protect it." He grinned, and it was less boyish than it used to be. "That's why I joined the Navy."

Thelea smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you." She turned to him. "Maybe Giriad and I should take the Infiltrator. You could help the governor with the planetary defense while we go for reinforcements."

The idea made sense, but he still didn't like it. "We're a team, remember? Besides, aren't you afraid of leaving me to make decisions without you there to give orders?"

"Strangely, the idea doesn't scare me as much as it used to." He was still in civvies, of course, and he looked more relaxed, even in the formal wear, than he ever did in the restrictive uniforms aboard ship.

"You know, you should dress up more often. I didn't say so before, but that dress looks really . . . nice . . . on you." He coughed a bit.

"I don't think it's quite regulation," she noted dryly, looking down at herself. Then she added, "Thank you. I haven't worn anything like this in . . . well, a long time."

"You're very pretty. For an alien, of course." His face was red, he could feel it.

"You don't look too bad, either. For a human." There was something very wrong about this, she thought. For starters, they were standing much too close, and it wasn't bothering her the way it should. Also, why was she noticing his personal appearance? He was, after all, only human.

A lock of her blue-black hair had slipped free from her braid, brushing her cheek. Rurik was fighting an unreasonable urge to push it back into place, his hand hovering near but not touching. She gave it a sidelong glance but didn't move to stop him. Her hair was very soft, he'd noticed that on the trip here, when she'd used his shoulder as a pillow. Funny how he really wanted to touch it again . . . .

A flicker of light in the sky drew his attention. "What was that?"

She turned, following his gaze, and trying to ignore the strange wave of relief and disappointment that washed over her. "Where?" Then she saw it-or rather, she saw the second flash, and the third, points of light that glowed white, then blue, then dimmed to yellow. "Ships coming out of hyperspace?"

"Close to the atmosphere," he agreed. "Come on. Either the reinforcements are here, or the trouble just got a lot worse. Either way, we better find out." For a moment, he could have sworn there had been a flicker of disappointment on her face, but it must have been a trick of the light. He headed for the doors, and Thelea, after one last glance at the increasing number of lights in the sky, followed.