The Last Jedi

Thirty-Five


Den Dhur stared at the patchwork droid as if he’d begun speaking Huttese. “What did you say?”

“I said, Jax is gone. Which somehow doesn’t surprise me as much as it should.”

Den glanced from I-Five to Sacha Swiftbird, who stood behind the droid in the doorway of Geri’s workshop. “What does he mean—Jax is gone?”

The woman grimaced and crossed her arms over her chest. “He fired up the Aethersprite and took off in the middle of the night. A couple of night-duty mech-techs saw him, but—” She shook her head.

The cold flush of dread that coursed through Den’s body sat him down hard on his stool. “And no one thought to stop him?”

Swiftbird shrugged. “He’s Jax Pavan. That makes him a bit of a hero around here. You don’t stop a hero who’s off to do heroic things.”

“I thought no one was supposed to know who he was—outside of the leadership here.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. In a tight-knit community like this? Give us a break. Secret intel is the daily bread around here. I’d reckon that within a day of your first landing, everyone knew there was a Jedi among us. They just didn’t talk about it.”

Den shook his head, looking to I-Five for something to stop his world from wobbling. “So he grabbed the starfighter and took off—to where?”

“I’ve no idea,” said the droid. “He didn’t bother to file an itinerary with Mountain Home flight control. Remiss of him.”

“Don’t be flip,” Den retorted. “You always get flip when you’re angry.”

“I’m a droid. Droids don’t get angry.”

“Oh, don’t fall back on that stupid dodge, Tinhead. You’re mad and you karking well know it.”

I-Five’s optics flashed brighter and he uttered a disgruntled noise, preparatory to issuing a further comment, but Sacha cut him off.

“You two are like an old married couple. This is a waste of time, aye? Pavan has gone missing and we’re down a fighting vessel. Thi Xon Yimmon’s situation hasn’t changed, guys. He’s still at the mercy of the Dark Lord and his slimy little toadies. We need to regroup and figure out what can be done to salvage the situation. Any constructive ideas?”

Both Sullustan and droid turned startled gazes on the ex-Podracer.

A stifled grunt of laughter reminded Den that he hadn’t been alone in the workshop when I-Five and Sacha had burst in. He and Geri had both brought their breakfasts down here to eat and had been noodling with ideas to customize I-5YQ’s Nemesis parts. Now the little mech-tech was watching their byplay with undisguised mirth.

“Sorry,” he said, looking as contrite as his Rodian features would allow. “It was just … y’know … funny.”

“Hence the laughter,” said I-Five. “But Sacha is correct. We have no idea what Jax is doing, or where he’s bound. We can only try to deal with the situation as best we can.”

“How?” Den demanded on a rising tide of frustration. “As you said, we have no idea where Jax is going.”

I-Five came fully into the chamber. “Either Jax has returned to Kantaros Station or he has not. If he has, he’ll need our assistance. If he has not, then Yimmon still needs to be rescued.”

Sacha Swiftbird sauntered into the room on the droid’s heels and slid onto the stool next to Geri to pick at the leftovers of his breakfast. The Rodian youth offered no protest.

“Great,” she said. “So, it sounds as if you’re thinking we should go back to Kantaros Station and rescue Yimmon ourselves.”

“We?” I-Five asked.

“You need a pilot, right? I’m a pilot. One of the best, as it happens. I’m also a fantastic engineer.”

“Oh, but you’ll need a mech-tech, too, won’t you?” Geri asked. “I mean, you can’t engineer while you’re piloting, right?”

“No,” the others said in perfect unison.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Sacha said. “This is a dangerous mission.”

“C’mon, Sacha!”

“Aren and Degan would never give you permission. You thinking of disobeying your superiors, cadet?”

Geri screwed up his face. “I guess not.”

Sacha turned back to Den and I-Five. “But Degan’s already offered me to you once. You need redundancy in engineering and at the helm. Which means I’m going with you. Like it or not.”

“Who said we didn’t like it?” Den asked. “Did we say that?”

“Great,” Swiftbird said, polishing off the last of Geri’s breakfast. “So what’s the plan?” She gave I-Five her entire attention.

“I’m surprised you don’t have that covered already.”

“Curmudgeon,” she called the droid. “I figure we’re going back to Kantaros Station. And since we know that Black Sun ships are welcome there, we’ll go in as a Black Sun ship. How’m I doing?”

“Quite well,” I-Five admitted. “Now that we’re clear on the mission, I suggest we depart as soon as possible. As much as I’d like to hang around here and continue my refit, we can’t afford the time. Can you clear a departure with your leadership?”

“I can do better than that. I can get us an escort and backup.”

“They’ll only be able to escort us so far. Trust me, the area around the station is well patrolled.”

“They’ll be like shadows. Vader’s forces will never know they’re there—unless we want them to.”

Den felt as if he’d been left completely in the dust. “Back up! What do you mean we’re clear on the mission? I’m not clear on anything. What exactly is it we’re proposing to do?”

If I-Five had had an eyebrow to raise, he’d have raised it, Den was certain. “Exactly what Sacha suggested. We’re going to pose as a Black Sun freighter and dock at the station just as if we had every right to be there.”

Den shook his head. “And what’s going to convince them they shouldn’t just blow us out of the sky? Any incoming Black Sun ships have to send ident codes to the station in order to gain admittance. We don’t have Black Sun ident codes.”

“Actually, we do,” the droid said, sounding about as smug as it was possible for a droid to sound. “While we were sitting on the landing pad in Keldabe with Prince Xizor’s little fleet, I took the liberty of slicing a few ident codes. As far as the Kantaros command and control is concerned, we’ll be the Raptor out of Mandalore.”

Den nodded, grateful, at last, for an explanation that made sense. “I see. That way, once we invade the station and rescue Yimmon, we can get away before they—” He blinked his owlish eyes. “Wait—what?”