Chapter Text
Michael sighed as the diplomatic shuttle exited Hyperspace.
For what felt like the hundredth time this trip he said, “Sorry Honey.”
“Oh for Christ sake stop giving me that. It’s the Jedi’s fault he’s been catatonic for three months.” Rachael chastised. “Plus the kids and I are going to have a swell time, shopping and seeing the sights here, you’re the only one who’s getting their ass grilled for a change.”
Michael chuckled, “I still miss those days when we’d get yelled at by Briggs for pulling some dangerous shit.”
Rachael got a wistful expression and whispered, “I do too. Why don’t you spend some time with Radha? She’s still a little uneasy.”
“Of course Honey.” Michael said, giving her a peck on the forehead as he unstrapped and made his way to where the kids were seated.
They looked towards him after they finished staring out the windows. “Ready to see Coruscant?” he asked, putting a little excitement in his emotions.
Radha excitedly nodded while his twin sons, Romulus and Rhemus, looked between themselves and their father.
“Daddy are you in trouble?” They asked as one. The mental link was incredibly strong and they tended to act as one on most things. It had set most people off but it was surmountable.
“Well…” Michael said, trying to divert away.
“Yes.” Radha said.
Michael foux pouted at her to which she stuck out her tongue.
He chuckled, saying, “Well kinda. It ain’t my fault so it’s more an inquiry less a trial. Daddy will be just fine.” He sent reassurance to the twins and somewhat to Radha.
Pausing for a second he said, “Oh, Radha, remember this is a great opportunity to practice your language skills. Just don’t go trying to pry open their heads to cheat, that’s a social faux-pas outside of Sharma.”
She giggled which made his heart flutter. “Of course Dad, I’ll just use a vibro-scalpel.”
Michael feigned shock and asked, “Oh where oh where would my own flesh and blood come up with such a vile concept?”
She giggled further and he pulled her into a tight hug. “You’ll do great, you little rugrat.” He said, ruffling her hair.
Turning to the twins he said, “Just remember that talking as one tends to freak people out. So if someone’s annoying you do that and they’ll probably leave you alone. Other than that don’t speak at the same time.”
“Like.” Rhemus said.
“This.” Romulus said.
Michael shook his head, exuding humor, saying, “You might want to practice with Radha a little more but I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
The twins turned to Radha who giggled as Michael went back to his opposing seat with Rachael.
Picking up the tumbler of whisky from the table between them he took a sip.
“What ideas are you implanting into their young minds?” His wife asked, rolling her eyes.
He set his glass down and said, “Oh, you know, just their targets to disable the planetary defense grid. I’m sure you’re familiar.”
“Of course, it’s only natural.” His wife said playing her part.
They were only half joking. Not an insubstantial amount of time was spent on assessing and training for a strike on the Galactic Capital. Targets like Corellia, Fondor, and a host of other strategic points were also psycho-conditioned and flash-trained in their sleep. Deterrence meant that any and every single galactic power had to have warplans associated, even if that power was the immense Republic itself.
The Embassy gave them a relatively modest apartment, by Coruscanti standards, in the highrise it occupied.
“Christ, the scenery makes Proxima look lush.” Rachael commented, looking out over the metal landscape towards the immense Jedi Temple.
“At least they’re working on terraforming the place. The L1 Solar shade will make much of the starward-side habitable and the L2 Mirror is going to give some light to the dark side. Lord knows the damned hemispheral winds have died down in the last ten years.” Michael said, unpacking his suitcase.
“Would it kill them to plant a few trees?” Rachael asked as she looked over the flat expanse of gray. “There isn’t even some unique architecture. It’s all just the same vague style.” She further lamented.
“When you say it like that you make it seem like a couple nukes would improve it.” Michael said, adjusting his dress uniform for the hearing he had in an hour.
Turning to her husband Rachael said, “C’mon, let me help you with that.” as she helped him fix his tie.
He relented, knowing better than to discourage his wife when she set her mind to a task. She was wonderfully stubborn in that way.
“Alright.” She said, pleased, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, “I’m going to take the kids to get some toys, don’t cause any more diplomatic incidents.”
“I’ll do my best.” He said wryly.
The flight over to the Jedi Temple was quiet. His pilot was one of the embassy staff and both she and Michael weren’t in the mood to talk.
He reviewed the information on how he was to act one more time. No insults, no snapping, no yelling, no direct threats, basically he couldn’t or wasn"t supposed to be an asshole which certainly put a damper in his day. Also he was informed to try and avoid putting any more Jedi in catatonic states though he was informed that he had freedom of action if they tried to force themselves into his mind.
Furthermore if they tried to detain him without the express agreement of the Union, he was to resist and wait for a “direct action response” which Michael figured was a few Squadrons of Nulls along with tactical nuclear artillery that would level the Temple and either eliminate the risk of him being compromised or give him an opportunity to escape.
As Michael stepped out onto the promenade before the Temple. He was hit with the signature Coruscant scent, which was a mix of industrial lubricant, mold, and shit. He couldn’t get off this fucking rock soon enough.
The sun was high in the sky and the heat made him sweat under his dress blues.
“I hope they have fucking A/C in there.” He muttered as he walked up the steps to the entrance.
He was greeted by a party of Jedi Sentinels and an unmasked Jedi.
“Colonel Michael Hernadez?” The unmasked one asked.
“Yeah, that’s me.” Michael said, fishing out his identification chit.
One of the Sentinels took it and confirmed his identity.
“Your weapon.” The Jedi said, indicating Michael’s service pistol.
“Of course.” Michael said, unholstering it, removing the magazine-power cell combination from the grip. Checking to make sure there was nothing in the feed-slot he inserted a small chamber flag he had brought along for this eventuality.
He set both on a tray held by one of the Sentinels and retrieved his identification chit.
“I would also ask you to remove any communications equipment you have on you.” The Jedi said.
Michael sighed a little. “Unless you’re going to cut open my skull you aren’t going to be getting my coms. Also when this inquiry was agreed upon there was no requirement for me to give up any communication equipment.” He said, already a little annoyed with the Jedi.
The Jedi simply nodded and began to lead him to the Temple.
Michael had to begrudgingly admit that the place was pretty nice, if a little stuffy due to the almost non-existent climate control and poor ventilation. Part of that could probably be blamed on Coruscant’s inherent geography.
When you cover a planet in industry and living space that generates a lot of heat. Heat that you have to radiate away from the planet or everyone cooks. As a result conduits move to whisk it away to one of a few hundred massive radiative complexes. Still, the system wasn’t great and temperatures could easily become unlivable far away from the conduits.
This of course had been covered in the Coruscant Strike plans. Aside from hitting key industry and political targets those radiative towers would be hit along with spaceports. They would purposefully avoid destroying the grid because the energy consumption would cook the planet within a few days to weeks, probably killing most of its populace and achieving what sustained nuclear bombardment likely couldn’t. Only then would the grid be destroyed to prevent use of it by droids.
Michael grimaced. This planet was almost more artificial than the Barnard Dyson sphere or the Saturn Shell World. So very few here knew how their lives were held onto by such a narrow thread.
Clearing his throat Michael asked, “Coruscant seems like a pretty depressing place, why build the Jedi Temple here?”
A dark skinned Jedi, Master Mace Windu, if the dossiers were correct, turned to him and said, “The Jedi have always been involved with the affairs of the Republic. It is important that while we remain objective we do not become too detached.”
Michael shrugged. Their reasoning wasn’t terrible, it just seemed stupid. Maybe that was his intricate knowledge of the Coruscant defensive systems and their many, many weaknesses, that colored his judgment. Coruscant was a death trap waiting for those radiator pylons to be destroyed.
“Follow me Colonel, The Council awaits.” Windu said.
Michael removed his cap and looked over each of the Jedi Council members. He spotted a familiar face and gave a respectful nod to Master Qui-Gon Jinn. The Master reciprocated and Michael refocused on the council. They all wore serene expressions and their Force signatures indicated no deviation from that. Just in case he wrapped his mind in several layers of defenses with traps and decoys hidden without. There was no one-to-one equivalent to a mental Force-battle but Michael supposed one could see similarities in EW and ECM systems. It was all about noise and deception.
“For this hearing agreeing to, the Terran Union the Jedi Council thanks.” Master Yoda said.
Michael nodded, “And for being willing to see our side of the incident the Terran Union thanks the Jedi Council for its discretion and understanding.”
“Still, we believe this incident was entirely preventable.” Windu said.
Michael let a wisp of annoyance roll off of him. “How exactly do you suggest it was avoidable? Master Windu.” Michael asked, adding the clarification after the fact.
Master Qui-Gon Jinn raised his hand to prevent Windu from speaking. “What my fellow Master means to say is that we believe there were other ways to avoid the conflict.” He said, looking a little displeased with what he said.
He didn’t show it in the Force though so maybe it was a feint. Michael decided to simply note the observation.
“Respectfully Masters, C’Baoth tried to crack open my skull like an egg. I had to use a trick to get under his defenses.” Michael said, frowning. He decided to show his full, incredibly modest, Force presence. “As you can see I am not a particularly powerful Force user, maybe akin to a Service Corps member of your order. Hell, I can"t even use telekinesis without a big dose of Melange. I cannot fight an overwhelming Force like C’Baoth in a conventional manner so like our military doctrine I use other means.” He said, trying to be as frank and honest as possible.
“That remains to be seen if C’Baoth was indeed the one to initiate the altercation.” Windu said.
Yoda was the one to placate the aggressive Master this time. “Concerning still, your willingness to use trickery is.” He said.
Christ if he kept up that speech pattern Michael would get a headache without any Force fuckery.
Michael took a deep breath. “There is no honor in losing, there is no honor in winning, there are only winners and losers. I never intend to lose and neither does the Terran Union. It is how we are trained, it is how we fight.” He said, fixing his gaze at the small green Master.
“Which is exactly why we are concerned with how the Terran Union trains its Force Users.” Ki-adi Mundi said.
“We’re here to discuss C’Baoth’s attempted assault and breach of Terran Union secrets. If you have an issue with how we train our recruits, take it up with the Commander of Special Personnel, Marshall Alexi Chen.” Michael reminded, emotions rising in his voice.
“But the two are interlinked. From what your government claims, C’Baoth was trying to gain entry to one of your serum manufacturing facilities.” Windu said.
“Yes, and like we’ve stated before the processes and effects of those substances are highly classified.” Michael said, closing his eyes.
“We do not know the exact processes of your initiative but from what we can observe solely through what we’ve been allowed we can say with fair certainty that your government is employing Sith Alchemy in their program.” Mundi said.
Michael kept his eyes closed and said, “If this is what you want to discuss there is no point in me being here. I hope my wife and kids at least have fun.” He opened his eyes and glared at the council.
He moved to leave but stopped at the door. He turned and looked at the council. “Keep in mind that the Terran Union permits Jedi visitation as a show of goodwill. We have no obligation nor current inclination to continue with such visits until such a time as Master C’Baoth faces official punishment for his attempted act of espionage and you can adequately control the representatives you send.” He said. He gave a respectful nod to Jinn before affixing his cap and walking into the lift, accompanied by a pair of Sentinels.
Michael rested against the railing. It actually stretched around the edge of their room’s balcony. One would think that something as simple as a railing could be unmentioned but the Galaxy seemed to have an aversion to building codes and how more people didn’t fall to accidental or ‘accidental’ deaths mystified Michael.
A hand brushed against his back and a flute of sparkling wine was pushed into his hand.
“Thanks Honey.” He said, taking his eyes off the landscape. At night it did have a beauty of sorts, that might explain why more seemed to happen on Coruscant instead of during the day. Also the heat was less oppressive so maybe that contributed.
“Admiring the landscape?” Rachael asked.
“Kinda. I can barely smell the shit from up here.” He said, taking a sip.
“It’s not their fault they don’t have enhanced olfactory receptors.” She said.
“Still it couldn’t hurt to maybe work on a more reliable central waste processing method. I genuinely do not understand why someone would ever live here, especially if you’re some rich government official.” He said.
“Oh I think you’ll come to understand there’s more to the planet than simply monks and poor engineering. The Ambassador has invited us to a party with many of Coruscant’s elite.” She said, sliding around as he put his hands on her waist and she locked hers around his neck.
“Really? And you agreed?” Michael asked.
“Do you not want to go?” She asked, “I can tell him we aren’t coming.”
“No, it’s just I didn’t think you’d accept an offer like that.” Michael said.
“Well I figured a change of pace was in order. We could use a little socializing outside of a bar.” She said.
“But I like bars, I’m a great singer too.” He said, grinning.
“Dear we both know that the only reason that you aren’t thrown out is because you chose songs that everyone joins in on.” She said.
“ Throw a Nickel on the Grass is a classic and every pilot is obligated to learn it. I’m just doing my part and spreading the good word.” He said.
“Of course and that’s why I love you.” She said, and moved in for a kiss.
“Systems check?” Michael asked as he fiddled with his tie.
“All green and purring like a kitten, minimal interference and we’re flying clean.” Rachael said as she made adjustments to the ribbon bar on her breast.
“That’s what I like to hear, does the approach look clean?” Michael asked, brushing back a bit of his close-cut hair.
“Can’t say, ISR hasn’t been very active so we’re going to have to wing it.” She said, straightening.
“And weapons handling?” He asked.
“Please don’t refer to our children like that.” His wife chastised.
He chuckled and asked, “Do you think the babysitter will handle them?”
“Of course. Rhada can be trusted to keep the twins out of trouble.” She reassured.
He nodded and offered his hand. “If we may.” He said, switching his Texan drawl for a posh English accent.
Rachael giggled and then played up her Indian accent, “I should slap you for being a colonizing sonovabitch.”
Michael grinned. “I suppose that’s a yes?” He asked.
“Of course dear.” Rachael said, taking his hand.
They linked arms and went to the waiting aircar. They separated briefly and soluted.
“Ambassador.” They said in unison.
“Ah Colonel Hernandez and Major Chopra, it’s good to see both of you.” The aged man said in a vaguely Nigerian accent.
“Pleasure to see you sir. I wish it were under better circumstances.” Michael said, lowering his hand.
The Ambassador waved his hand. “Please, dispense with the formalities, call me Oladele. I want two heroes of the Union to be able to rest after their toils.” He said.
“We were just doing our job-, nothing that anyone else wouldn’t do.” Michael said, cutting himself off before he said “sir”.
“You are too humble. Come on, you and your beautiful wife shall get to experience the nightlife of Coruscant.” Oladele said.
Michael gave Rachael a look and she sent a brief flash of reassurance through The Force.
“Of course. I look forward to it.” He said.
“Excellent, follow me.” The Ambassador said, herding the two officers into the air car.
Michael smiled and let him. He looked at Rachael and checked to see that she was okay. While Michael didn’t like being called a hero she positively hated it.
She smiled and sent him a ping of happiness and excitement. That eased Michael’s doubts and he relaxed as they were taken from the Embassy complex further into the heart of Coruscant’s political district.
Michael mentally graded their pilot on his skills. They were alright, especially given their restricted rules of things like “flight lanes” and “not flying through residential areas at mach 2.4”. Fucking buerocrats, the entire Byzantine arrangement of the Republic seemed to be expressly designed to sap all the effectiveness and happiness out of their worlds and constituents respectively.
The evening Coruscant sky glowed red as the silhouettes of ships were visible against the star. The Republic War museum they’d visited had been mediocre and Radha had quickly lost interest though the twins were still enraptured by it. They hadn’t yet learned about much of the stuff in their courses.
Michael saw a bunch of unequivocal failures being touted as victories. He swore that half the battles he read about involving the Republic involved them winning despite their best effort to lose. The same applied for the Jedi and even the Sith which liked to hold themselves as all-powerful, were too busy fighting amongst themselves to actually achieve a meaningful victory. Everyone in this Galaxy was fucking insane.
They arrived at a fancy looking venue as other well dressed attendants stepped out of their aircars. He and Rachael followed Oladele in their dress blues, affixing their caps as they scanned the crowd before following the Ambassador.
They caught a few glimpses of the black minimalist uniforms of Judicial Forces. It was better than there being no other military personnel but to call the Judicial Forces a functional military would be a grave insult to any and all armies throughout history. They made earlier Republic militaries look like they were led by Schwarzkopfs.
“Ambassador Oladele here with my guests.” The Ambassador said to one of the several attractive receptionists.
Rachael sent Michael a spike of irritation at his wandering thoughts and he responded with a pang of humor. They held a conversation solely through reflected emotions and subtle eye gestures. To any outsider it looked like two people just standing there, but to a resident of Sharma base, it would look like a full-blown argument.
Michael rolled his eyes and looked meaningfully at Rachael, displaying sincerity. She huffed and he grinned. They refocused as the receptionist called them forward.
“Please hand over any weapons you have on your persons.” She said and an attendant droid approached.
Michael removed his pistol and spare magazines, setting them on the platter. Rachael carried no weapon in her holster. It was a sort of status symbol among some of the Union Force users. It meant that one didn’t need a pistol to kill someone and while it was frowned upon in the regs, that didn’t stop the practice among those exceptionally skilled in the Force.
They were let in without further hassle and Oladele left them to mingle with some of his associates.
Michael raised his eyebrows at Rachael and she tilted her head. He vaguely glanced to where the selection of drinks were. She smiled and made a tiny nod of her head. He let out a sigh and shook his head in good nature. They probably did have good wine here.
Before the couple could make their way through the crowd a familiar voice called out, “Lieutenant Colonel?”
Michael whirled and stared down at the unassuming form of Queen Padme Amidala.
“Your highness?” He asked, surprised, he checked her Force signature, found it didn’t match, then his eyes fell on one of the handmaidens.
“I didn’t expect to see you here. In a place like this.” the body double said.
“I wasn’t expecting to be here.” Michael said, addressing the actual queen. He paused and added, “It’s Colonel now.”
“Congratulations on the promotion, could you stop looking at one of my handmaidens.” the body double, Sabe if Michael remembered correctly, said.
Michael exhaled and said, “Of course, but I do say the resemblance between the two of you is skin-deep.”
“Who’s this Michael?” Rachael asked. She knew who Padme Amidala was and knew of Michael’s involvement but she sometimes had to provide an opening for her husband to socialize.
“Ah of course. Rachael, meet Queen Padme Amidala of Naboo.” Michael said, gesturing with his hand to the fake but mentally indicating the real Queen. “Your highness, this is my wife, Major Rachael Chopra.” He said, this time looking at the fake.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Major Chopra, Colonel Hernandez told me about you.” The fake said, extending her hand.
“Oh?” Rachael said, shaking it, a curious and devious smile on her face, “What did he say about me?”
Michael sent Rachael a ping of fake panic and she responded with humor.
“That he loves flying with you.” Sabe said.
Rachael lost control for a second and blushed deeply. That combined with the deep affection, embarrassment, and happiness sent through their bond, sent Michael’s heart a-flutter. Jesus Christ he loved that woman.
They both took a moment to reorganize themselves after the mental feedback of the exchange and Michael gave both Sabe and the Queen an easy smile.
“Ah Queen Amidala, it’s good to see you!” a boisterous male voice said as it approached the quartet. It was a man, probably late 30s, early 40s by physical age, in the uniform of a Republic Judiciary Force Officer. His rank plate said he was a Commodore, certainly not a terrible position to be in at that age but this was the Judiciary Forces.
Michael spotted Captain Panaka at the edge of the room stand and began moving over but a quick look from the queen stopped him.
“And who are these two officers?” He asked, looking at Michael and Rachael.
“Commodore Stilings.” Sabe said, nodding, “This is Colonel Hernandez and Major Chopra of the Terran Union.”
“Ah the Terrans, movers and shakers from the start.” The Commodore said, extending his hand to Michael. He moved to Rachael and said, “And you seem especially beautiful tonight.” He said, bowing.
It was Michael’s turn to reflect annoyance. “That’s my wife.” He said.
“Of course.” The Commodore said, immediately standing straighter, “And just how do you know our fair Queen here?”
Sabe put on an act of looking pleased at his words but even without a bond between them Michael could sense both she and Amidala were less than enthused at the Commodore.
“Oh, well you could say we met through work.” Michael said, staying vague. Rachael pressed a flute of sparkling wine into his hand and he mentally thanked her. This was going to be an ordeal.
“Oh please do tell, I’m sure such a decorated officer such as yourself has many tales to tell.” Stilings said.
Michael shook his head. “I can’t, the details are classified.” He said.
“Oh please we’re all friends here.” Stilings said.
Michael sent a spike of annoyance directed at Stilings to Rachael and she agreed.
“Commodore, I don’t know what protocols the Judiciary Forces have, but I’d be lucky to get off with solitary confinement on some Oort Cloud asteroid if I so much as breathe about some of the things I’ve done.” Michael said, warning in his voice.
“Can you at least tell me what you did? Are you a ground forces commander? I’m not familiar with your uniforms.” He asked.
“Strategic Aerospace Forces. I’m a pilot, now instructor. My wife was, is, my navigator.” Michael said, mentally reviewing what he could say.
“Oh a starfighter pilot, I spent my youth battling ruffians in the Outer-Rim in my old Z-95. I tell you those pirates can put up quite the fight.” He said, trying to impress Michael.
“Pirates are easy but you’ve got to put them down every-so-often. I’ve been involved in a couple Space Control missions that I can talk about. To be fair it’s long odds with a single FB-182.” He said easily, taking a sip.
“I can’t believe they would send you in with that little support? Does your military care about you at all?” The Commodore said.
“Oh no, you misunderstand me, it’s long odds for the Pirates. A single ‘182 can destroy a major operation in minutes and we’ve done that several times.” He said, enjoying the little manipulation and setup he made to pull the rug out from under the Commodore.
“Really? I’ve seen your so-called ‘Arrowhead’. They’re the size of a medium gunboat. How are you supposed to battle with that? You don’t even have blaster cannons.” He said, surprise written across his face.
Michael sighed and noticed both Padme’s and Sabe’s attention fixated on his conversation. They both had front-row seats to how he fought and it had certainly left an impression. “Look Commodore. If you’re getting close enough for them to take pot-shots at you then you’ve gotten too close. Simply KKM their ass and be on your way. No-one seems to understand how to do a BVR engagement and it"s how we get perfect kill ratios in all our battles.” He said.
“Please, those numbers are Terran propaganda, you don’t seriously expect me to believe you’ve lost no manned starfighters in the Hutt War or any of your ‘police actions’?” The Commodore asked incredulously.
“You can believe whatever you want, I’m just telling you that I haven’t seen a single one of our fighters lost. We are very good at what we do and have excellent equipment.” Michael said.
“Kriff, just wait until I tell Tarkin about this poodoo.” The Commodore said as he walked off.
Michael raised his eyebrows and took a sip.
“He can believe whatever he wants, I know, we know, you’re telling the truth.” Sabe said.
“Thank you, your highness. It doesn’t bother me personally. However, if the Republic refuses to take the lessons we’ve dealt out to heart then that makes our position paradoxically less secure.” Michael said.
“How so?” Sabe asked, both her and the Queen expressing genuine interest. She had been like that, in the preparation phase and mission to Naboo. Always curious, always looking to learn.
“Deterrence is built on controlled fear. During our history we used the fear of total annihilation to prevent major wars between world powers. It didn’t always work but it forced diplomatic solutions to be used over escalating military ones. If the Republic or systems and coalitions within the Republic still doubt what the Union can do, then they are more likely to attack and while the Commodore may not be a key decision maker in the Republic, his attitude may be reflective of the culture and attitudes within the Judicial Forces.” Michael explained.
Sabe nodded, considering the statement.
He checked in on Rachael, who had been silent throughout the exchange. He could feel her anticipation and it was obvious she wanted to discuss something. “Why don’t I leave my wife with Your Highness and let the two of you talk for a change?” he asked.
“Of course Colonel. It’s been a pleasure seeing you.” Sabe said.
Rachael sent a ping of thanks.
“Likewise, the same goes for the both of you.” He said, giving the Queen and her double a smile before moving off.
Michael made his way to a balcony and stared out over the metal expanse of Coruscant. He spotted a radiator tower on the horizon and mentally checked his SIOP database for the designation for that tower. Apparently it was to be targeted by a quartet of MARVs delivered by a Peacekeeper II missile from some random missile wing based on an Asteroid that had less a name, more a jumble of alphanumerics.
The perfume and cologne of the party overpowered the smell of shit up here but still it was almost overbearing to Michael’s senses.
“I see you’ve met Commodore Stilings.” A voice said from behind Michael.
Michael turned and quirked an eyebrow at the Judicial Forces Officer. “And you are?” Michael asked.
“Captain Wilhulff Tarkin, Republic Judicial Forces.” The man answered coldly.
“And what did he say?” Michael asked, fully turning to face Tarkin.
“That you are a liar and fraud with no honor.” He said, meeting Michael’s gaze levelly.
“Well he’s right on two of those counts.” Michael said.
“And those would be?” Tarkin asked.
“I am a liar and have no honor.” Michael responded.
“And do you see that as undesirable?” Tarkin asked.
Michael pursed his lips and shook his head. “Ain’t any honor in war, just winning and losing. As for lies, well deception’s three-fourths the battle so yeah, I’m a pretty prolific liar.” He said, taking a sip.
“Then I am inclined to believe you on your claims.” Tarkin said. “Tell me, how does the Terran Union view the Republic?”
“Not my place to say.” He said, taking a drink.
“Of course. You are a professional after all.” Tarkin said, following his gaze.
“At least take me out for drinks before you stroke my fat ego like that.” Michael said, pinging humor, only to realize that the person he was talking to wasn’t Force-Sensitive.
Tarkin raised an eyebrow and Michael gave him a sidelong smile.
“So what is it you want to discuss other than the policy decisions of my nation?” Michael asked.
“I actually caught the end of your conversation with the young Queen. My curiosity was piqued so I decided to seek you out.” Tarkin said, standing straight and addressing Michael like a moderate superior.
“Ah so you want to know more about what deterrence is and how it works?” Michael asked.
“Precisely. I believe understanding it will benefit the Republic greatly.” Tarkin said.
Michael quirked an eyebrow. It was obvious Tarkin had picked up on Michael’s comments about the Republic’s lack of respect for Terran military capabilities but Michael detected no hidden deception or subterfuge in the man. Tarkin genuinely believed it was important for The Republic to understand Terran philosophy.
“Alright, so what do you know about our recent history? The, oh, hundred years before contact.” Michael asked.
Tarkin thought for a moment before speaking. “I’ve read books on your ‘Cold War’ between several of your nations. Most would expect a full atomic war in that scenario but for some reason your planet never went down that path. Why is that?” Tarkin asked, replying to Michael’s question with a question of his own. Michael sensed he knew the answer already and was judging how Michael responded.
“Because we’re not stupid. Well we’re not that stupid.” Michael said, clarifying his statement. “Nuclear war was and is a tool, a way to level the playing field. When both sides are armed like that it’s a zero sum gain to attack. Right now the Terran Union is the only power with an analogous force but the sheer weight of conventional Galactic forces means that even with our superiority in that area we’d lose an aggressive war.”
Tarkin considered his words. “So you use fear to manipulate those who oppose you?” He asked.
“In a way.” Michael conceded, “But being feared for the sake of control isn’t useful. It only builds resentment. Fear is a natural response that tells you to not do something but over time it becomes dull. It should be used sparingly and strictly when necessary. It is better to build bridges through trade and relations than try to empire-build through shear might. The Hutts tried to strongarm their Empire and it worked until someone didn’t follow their rules. It didn’t work when someone decided that since the board was stacked against them they had nothing to lose and blew up the board with a thermonuclear weapon.”
Tarkin rubbed his chin. “An interesting methodology. It certainly seems to have merit. You Terrans do seem a good deal more practical than many of my… colleagues.” He said, a smile actually gracing his lips.
“We have no choice. We’re tiny and if we want to keep our independence we don’t have room for weakness or pomp.” Michael said simply.
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you Colonel. I have other matters to attend to but I look forward to cooperation between our two entities.” He said.
“Likewise Captain. The Judicial Forces could use more officers like you.” Michael said.
Tarkin made a small bow with his head and left.
“That’s good that those statites are working. The Sol polar statites have made Earth an exporter of hypermatter. The diversification of your economy seems to be a step in the right direction.” Rachael said as Michael approached The Queen and her consort.
Rachael sent him a mental code to let them finish talking. He obliged and felt the warmth radiating off his wife as she dealt with the young Queen. Rachael had taken a liking to her it seemed and both Sabe and Padme appeared interested in the conversation.
Michael wandered over to where the Terran Ambassador was. He snagged a spare wine flute from a passing attendant and carried it over along with his own drink.
Oladele made a deep belly-laugh at some joke and Michael inserted himself into the cluster like he was running an interdiction mission.
“Ambassador.” Michael said, nodding.
“Ah, Colonel Hernandez, just in time!” The man said jovially.
“Drink?” Michael offered, extending the flute.
“Oh, no, I’m a Sunni, take after my mother.” Oladele said, politely declining the drink.
“I see no issue.” Michael said, returning the flute to one of the many ladies carrying platters of them.
“We were just talking about the Governor"s son here. He wants to be a pilot and I figured you would be able to give some insider tips.” He said, smiling.
“Yeah, sure, what is your son looking to pilot?” Michael asked the older woman.
“Oh he’s building his own special-purpose starfighter. He’s been working on it since he was a young boy.” She said, smiling politely.
“What kind of starfighter? Could you give me any details?” Michael asked.
“Oh, you know what, let me get him over here.” She said, ducking out for a moment.
“So how is your night going? I see you have history with the young Queen over there.” Oladele said, nodding to Amidala.
“It’s going alright, little up, little down, just remains to be seen how it ends. It was nice running into her and catching up a bit. I still remember her from the Naboo Crisis. It seems she’s adapting well to the political environment.” He said.
“Aye she is, a ferocious one that.” Oladele said, “Probably one of our most zealous advocates.”
“She better be after what we did for her.” Michael said. He paused and added, “Still, it is good to see her doing alright.”
Michael’s thoughts were pulled to a halt when Rachael sent a very rapid and unambiguous series of warnings to him.
His head snapped up to meet her eyes just as a large crash could be heard from the landing pad followed by screams.
His eyes narrowed and he nodded. The room was silent with worried mutters abound.
“Ambassador, get to a safe place immediately. My wife thinks you’re in danger, which means you probably are.” Michael whispered into his ear.
“Understood Colonel.” Oladele said and looked to the side of the room where a pair of Nulls were waiting.
Just then the sound of blaster fire could be heard followed by more screaming.
“GET GOING! SHE’LL HANDLE IT!” Michael yelled over the panicking crowd.
The pair of Nulls jumped through the crowd and got to them.
“GET THE AMBASSADOR TO SAFETY!” Michael ordered the two of them. It was an overreach of his authority but given he was the ranking Terran Officer he still had some responsibility for the situation.
“You don’t need to tell us sir.” the female of the pair said curtly. Her suit had been torn from the acrobatics, exposing the cybernetic limbs. She proceeded to physically grab the Ambassador and with the help of the other Null forced her way through the throng.
Through the press of bodies Michael spotted Rachael. He used his large physical size to push his way through the crowd. She was a calm eye in the storm staring down the entrance.
“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND OR I START SHOOTING!” a voice yelled followed by a series of rapid blaster bolts into the ceiling.
Michael got low and continued pushing his way to Rachael.
“Ambassador has been extracted. Minimal resistance. Two enemy KIA.” One of the Nulls reported over their cybernetic links.
More of the armed beings emerged from side rooms and stairs firing on the security guards which were guarding the VIPs before the remaining ones dropped their blasters and raised their hands.
The crowd seemed to realize the situation they were in and did as the man had said.
Rachael sent Michael a concerned look to which he looked confused. Why was she concerned? Then it dawned that she was concerned about him. She had wanted him to go with the Ambassador.
“We’ll talk about this later.” He said, sheepishly.
She frowned and left it at that.
“Should we ice them now?” She asked quietly.
“Do you have a track on all of them?” Michael asked.
Rachael focused and frowned, saying, “I’m having some trouble. I think there’s some users messing with us.”
One of the attackers, a Duros, took out a voice amplifier and began addressing the crowd. “Good. Now that you all seem to understand your situation let me make this clear. If you defy us we will not hesitate to kill you. We are not after your credits or jewelry, we have a greater purpose. That being said, you can get out of this without harm. Simply sit tight and it will all be over soon.” He said, more attackers filing in. Michael scanned them and guessed that they were probably bounty hunters.
Suddenly a Judicial Officer stood up. Fuck it was Stilings.
“I will not be dictated to by-” His tirade was cut off by a blaster bolt.
His body flopped to the floor followed by screams.
“I told you.” The Duros said.
“Alright, give me a second while I get your dose.” Michael said.
“No talking!” One of the nearby thugs yelled.
Michael simply raised an eyebrow. He carefully reached into a pocket and withdrew a small pre-dosed syringe. He pressed it into Rachael’s hand and took one of his own, injecting his thigh and rubbing the area. She did the same and the effect on him was immediate. He felt power course through his veins as the Melange increased his Force acuity.
As one the two rose from prone to standing in a slow, deliberate manner. Michael saw a civilian move to emulate them, evidently thinking this was a show of defiance and barked, “No, stay the fuck down.” The woman complied and Michael refocused.
“Did you just see what happened to the last fool who did this?” The Duros asked. He lazily raised his blaster pistol, aimed it at Michael and fired.
The bolt crossed the room in a tenth of a second only to stop ten centimeters in-front of Michael’s skull. It hung there, suspended as Michael felt Rachael’s power coil like a serpent ready to strike.
The room was silent as they witnessed the immense show of strength in the Force.
“EVERYONE FIRE!” The Duros ordered after half a second of hesitation, Michael sensing panic in his voice.
A hail of blaster fire rained down on the pair, stopping in a bubble around them. It continued for several seconds until the two of them couldn’t be seen through the wall of crackling red plasma.
“Do you have them all?” Michael asked.
“Yes.” Rachael said, her voice seeming to come from many places. She gave a mental countdown.
3…2…1… The wall of plasma flew back, directed at the various spots the bounty hunters had taken cover in. More than a few suddenly learned the difference between cover and concealment as the wooden tables they had been using were ripped apart by the redirected blasts.
Before the bolts impacted Michael was on the move, lunging towards the nearest enemy in actual cover. The bounty hunter had a moment to process the action before Michael’s fist caved in their skull.
Michael pivoted as the shock of Rachael’s attack wore off and leapt, grabbing the next one by the face and slamming his head into a stone ledge with a sickening crunch.
Rachael was not idle after her attack. She made small motions with her hands and wreaked havoc on their would-be hostage takers. The first few simply slumped over, hearts or brains turned to mush by precise, measured uses of The Force. Then she picked up the pace and spent a lot less time worrying about precision. The effect was noticeable as bounty hunters were turned into twisted balls of flesh and bone or had their heads or torsos explode, showering the guests in blood and viscera.
Here and now the Bounty Hunters learned first hand how Michael “Ares” Hernandez and Rachael “Kali” Chopra earned their callsigns.
Michael ducked behind cover to escape a stream of blaster fire. He grit his teeth, sending a quick message to Rachael. With a pop the offending gunner was reduced to a red stain on the wall, ceiling, and floor.
He made a quick dash, scooping up a blaster pistol and blowing the brains out of two more bounty hunters that were turning to Rachael. He rounded a corner, finding one on the ground with an extensive armored suit. He unloaded four rounds into the heavily armored one, approached and, seeing as he wasn’t quite dead, stomped on their neck, breaking it.
He looked up. The room was deathly quiet. Rachael stood where she had begun the fight, simply scanning the room and breathing heavily. Smoke rose from several spots on her uniform where blaster fire snuck through her defenses. She pinged him with urgency and sent a signature.
Michael looked to follow the coordinates and saw the Duros running. Michael ran after him, his own enhanced physique, letting him make-up to head-start in moments, lined up a shot, and missed.
The bounty hunter activated a pair of rocket boots and tried to boost away. Michael blew out one of his kneecaps, causing him to tumble to the ground.
The bounty hunter tried to get up but Michael shot him in the other leg, then in both of his elbows for good measure.
The man groaned on the ground and tried to push himself away from the god of war that approached him.
“Who do you work for?” Michael growled, stomping on one of the Duros’ limp feet.
“I don’t know!” The bounty hunter begged.
“Either you tell me or she will find out.” Michael said as Rachael silently approached at his side.
“Kriff you Jedi bastards.” The Duros said.
“Ohohohohoh. You think we’re Jedi?” Michael asked, a predatory smile on his lips. “Honey, I would like his brains thoroughly scrambled.”
Rachael nodded and the Duros tried to push himself away, only to be immobilized by a flick of Rachael’s fingers.
“No! No! Get away from me!” He yelled.
Michael felt the fear. He felt the shear terror that this bastard felt. To say it was delectable would be an understatement. The fear on display from someone who so callously killed was the height of irony, a comedy that no screen could capture.
Rachael reached out her hand and said, “If you resist this will be the most agonizing death you could possibly experience. If I were you I would submit and get this over with.”
Her normally warm voice was cold as ice as Michael felt the pent-up rage boil in her emotions.
He felt her start and the Duros began grunting, then he screamed and screamed until the bounty hunter’s throat went hoarse and his body went limp.
Michael felt a pang of fear from Rachael.
“What is it?” He asked.
“The kids, we need to check on the kids!” She said, fear edging into her voice.
“Fuck.” Michael swore and they quickly took off to the landing pad.
Several more Bounty Hunters were there in a blaster battle with Senate Guards. With similar efficiency Rachael dispatched them. Physically ripping them apart as she fought with the urgency of a mother whose children were in danger.
Michael tried to contribute with his blaster but Rachael simply swept the thugs aside without a chance for anyone to react. It was efficient and it was brutal, but that was war. They were nearly blue-on-blued when a Senate Guard with an itchy trigger finger took a couple potshots at them. Rachael was measured and simply ripped the weapon out of their hand, taking their gloves and fingernails with it.
Over the sound of the dying battle Michael heard a distinctive sound that made his blood run cold. What might be mistaken for a fog-horn or a buzz-saw from a distance but to him there was only one thing that could create that noise. A gun, or rather a series of guns, and there was only one spot on Coruscant where those weapons would be emplaced, in the CRAM battery around the Terran Union Embassy.
“We need to get to the Terran Embassy.” He said to the guard captain as the Senate Guard came out of their cover.
“What happened inside?” The Captain asked, worried about the VIPs.
“At least one VIP killed. Probably a number of guards too. All attackers neutralized.” Michael reported. “You’ll probably have to scrape some of them off the walls.” He added.
The Captain nodded and said, “Thank you. But we will have to keep you here for questioning.”
Michael felt Rachael’s rage spike and he quickly sent an assurance to her.
He gently set a hand on the Guard Captain’s pauldron and with casual ease crumpled the durasteel slightly. With a dangerous tone he said, “Our kids are back at the Embassy. Either you let us leave or my wife is going to give you the same treatment those irregulars received.” He let his gaze fall on a bounty hunter which had each of their six limbs ripped off and then had their spine removed from their body.
Michael could feel the fear from the Captain and he also felt Rachael pressuring him through The Force.
The Captain gulped and squeaked, “You’re free to go.”
Michael removed his hand and said, “See, that wasn’t so hard.”
The Nulls from earlier pulled up to the landing pad a couple agonizing minutes later.
“What’s the situation?” Michael asked as Rachael wordlessly got in the transport.
“The Embassy is under attack. Large group, maybe Battalion to Brigade strength. They had air support until we destroyed it.” She said.
“And our kids?” Rachael asked, panic barely edging into her voice. Part of being highly attuned to The Force was feeling far stronger emotions. With melange this was only heightened and Michael made a deliberate effort to calm her. He still felt the signature of their kids but with the interference Rachael had felt earlier but them being alive didn’t mean they weren’t in danger.
“They’re fine. They and the VIPs have been evacuated to their safe-rooms. Our units are mopping up the survivors of the attack as we speak.” The Null said as she firewalled the throttle.
The short distance between the two venues was covered in seconds and Michael watched the occasional burst of gunfire or blasterfire erupt as fireteams cleared out the attackers. One of the CRAM turrets pivoted, on manual track mode, and ripped apart a line of parked speeders that were being used as “cover”. The 40mm high-explosive rounds they had loaded reduced the line to slag and shrapnel, atomizing any of the beings that tried to hide from its fussilade.
“Do we know who they work for?” Michael asked, directing the question to the Nulls.
“Tyranus.” Rachael said.
He turned to her. “Who the fuck’s Tyranus?” Michael asked.
Rachael’s eyes met Michael’s and he could see a little fear in them and felt the same emotion bleed into the Force despite his wife’s best efforts to conceal it. “I don’t know but he is a Force user and a very strong one at that.” She said.
“Landing.” The Null said.
The aircar set-down and Michael got out, picking up a rifle from one of the weapon racks and moving out to secure the pad.
“LZ clear.” He said, seeing no enemies, only groups of Terran personnel.
Rachael followed him, stumbling as the exertion from the fight began to get to her.
“Easy, let"s get inside and figure out what should happen.” Michael said, putting an arm around her and helping her along.
Nulls and Embassy Marine Guards ran around, securing areas, tending to wounded, or handling prisoners.
Their identities were automatically displayed by their implants so they weren’t bothered until one of the medics got up and asked, “Is she alright?” Directing the question at Rachael.
“She’s fine, just tired. We were with the Ambassador and had to deal with a hostage situation.” Michael said, tired himself.
The medic gestured to Michael’s blood soaked uniform.
“Not mine.” Michael said after catching onto their meaning.
“Alright. Sir, you’re clear to enter. We’ll handle the situation from here. Just go to your quarters and we’ll send some people to check up on you. Your children are safe and will be back with you shortly” The medic said.
Michael thanked the man and continued, supporting Rachael. This was their domain and a couple flyboys would just get in their way. Yes both him and Rachael were trained in ground combat but at the time of their creation assigning Force Users to infantry was seen as a luxury The Terran Union could not afford. Thus almost all their effort had been devoted to space combat.
They waited as a squad with anti-tank weapons filed out of the elevator and moved quickly towards the perimeter to prepare for any further attacks. Rolls of concertina wire were being dragged across avenues of approach as more defined kill-zones were set-up with heavy weapons covering every possible approach. The hum of a pair of AS-133 Orca attack speeders could be heard as they lifted off and began scouring the surrounding areas for stragglers or second waves.
Rachael further slumped against Michael as the turbolift sped upwards.
“It’s okay. We’ll get you a nice shower and have you lie down. You’ll be good in no time.” Michael reassured, stroking her hair.
She just sighed, and mentally sent that she was tired.
Michael chuckled. “I can tell.” He said, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
She sent a quick feeling of disgust followed by what she smelled.
“Yeah I know I’ve got alien guts on me. I need a shower too.” He said, sending humor.
She sent self-righteousness and he chuckled. “Yeah Honey you’re right.”
They exited the lift and went down the hall to their room. Numerous spent shell casings on the balcony informed them it had been used as a firing position for both small arms and a recoiless rifle.
Michael helped her into the shower and brought her down to a sitting position. Their tattered uniforms were already off and he helped her slip out of the phrik alloy undersuit they both wore as a matter of habit. It was skin tight and would stop blasters, fragmentation, and even lightsabers for a brief period of time. Incredibly expensive, they were reserved for those within the Special Personnel Division and precious few others.
As the hot water beat down on them he worked the tension and knots out of her shoulders and back. He noted some bruising from where a few blaster bolts hit her, evidently having slipped through her focus. He deftly avoided these, carefully working his fingers into her flesh. She sighed and moaned at the muscles being relieved, their link providing him with immediate nonverbal feedback on his efforts. She relaxed into his arms and they lay there in the tub, utterly spent.
“About what happened…” She started.
“Don’t worry about it. Fear is nothing to be ashamed of. You were worried about our kids. You should never apologize for being worried about them.” He said, closing his eyes.
She snuggled into him and he let her.
“We should probably get dry and then maybe continue this.” He suggested.
“Oh shut up, let me have a moment.” She said, exhaustion in her voice.
“Alright. I can’t say no to that.”
Four Years Ago, Operation Justinian:
Michael sat, leaning his head against his Arrowhead’s landing gear. The core of the machine was not quite alive, not quite dead. It left an impression on a connected mind and it adapted to users. Its influence was confined to subtlety, familiar crew being able to fly it better. That being said, Michael could’ve sworn he felt the machine purring when he touched it for the first time in six years.
This Arrowhead core was Michael and Rachael’s personal bird, Maha-Pralaya, named after the great ending of a universe cycle in Hindu scripture. A fitting name for a machine meant to destroy billions. Of course “Maha-Pralaya” could be interpreted in a number of subtly different ways. Sometimes the literal translation of “Pralaya” as “Destruction” seemed fitting. Other times the cyclical nature of the Hindu universe implied that their craft would bring about a dark age until the universe was rebuilt. The later was probably more than a little on-the-nose with how a total galactic war would likely be resolved.
He was exhausted but could not sleep. He took out a photo of his family and redirected his attention. He hoped Rachael and the kids were doing alright. She hadn’t been enthusiastic about him taking this mission after so long but with DEFCON being lowered in light of the Naboo Crisis, it wasn’t much of an option.
He felt a presence approaching him and he asked without breaking his focus, “What do you want?”
The Jedi Master stopped and said, “You’re troubled.”
“No shit. I’ve had a bad fucking day.” Michael said.
“You did everything that you were supposed to do. Still you made a poor judgment call and those we were supposed to protect paid the price.” He said.
Michael broke his staring to glare at the man. “Do you really think I don’t fucking know that? What’s a few kids when you’ve already killed billions.” He said, muttering the last part.
“The past doesn’t define who we are. You can make the decision to move on.” The Jedi said.
Michael’s anger flared but he remained silent.
“Is that your family?” The Jedi asked, pointing at the photo.
Michael sighed. “Yeah. What about them?” He asked, putting the photo away.
“What is it like?” Master Jinn asked.
Michael was taken off guard for a second. Why would a Jedi care about a family? “I’m sorry what?” Michael asked.
“What is it like to have a family, one of flesh and blood?” The Jedi asked, repeating the question.
“No. I got the question but why are you asking?” Michael asked.
The Jedi looked to the entrance where his apprentice was helping out one of the Nulls with repairing their limb. Michael was sure that was some breach in security but he couldn’t be bothered at the moment. The Jedi looked Michael in the eyes and said, “My Padawan still has… difficulties with being separated from his mother.”
“Oh gee who would have thought?” Michael snarked.
“I’m looking to help him but those within the order see any sort of attachment as dangerous.” Jinn said, ignoring the pilot’s comment. He took a deep breath. “So what I’m asking is how do you and other Terran Force users view attachment? How do you deal with it?” He asked.
Michael pondered the question and slowly said, “Dealing with it sounds like we reject attachment. Why would we reject attachment? We’re human, we’re social beings. We could’ve been programmed from birth to be sociopaths that will kill without a thought but that’s not how we were trained and not how we work. Yes we can kill and we do so with exceeding efficiency but we do it for a reason. What makes us great soldiers is how we view the Terran populace as a whole. We are their protectors, they are our family. It has been subconsciously and explicitly programmed into how we think. We do our jobs because it keeps them safe. On a more personal level when we hear a trainee gets killed or one of our trainers grows old and dies we are saddened. We mourn. We are human so all of that’s normal.”
Jinn looked pensive for a moment but before he could speak Michael cut in, “Frankly we think you Jedi are a bunch of fucking idiots. You guys aren’t sociopaths yet you seem to want to be them. Being cool under pressure and being able to cut loose are not mutually exclusive. Additionally while Force enhancers amplify our emotions, we are not blinded by them. We still have jobs to do we will carry them out.” He sighed, realizing he was losing track of the conversation. “What I’m saying is his attachments aren’t an issue, it’s how you treat them that’s the problem. The kid wants to see his fucking mom and who could fault him? My kids missed me like hell when I go on training deployments. They’re kids. They look up to their parents and want to emulate them. It’s how we evolved. Now you can accept this and let them see each other or continue to cut them off. If he’s worried about her, instead of telling him that what he’s feeling is wrong, make sure she’s safe and show him she’s safe. If you keep things as they are, resentment will build and build. He’ll grow to resent the assholes who kept him from seeing his mother on days like his or her birthday. The assholes that will keep him from seeing the pride she holds for her son. The assholes who will not even tell him if his mother has passed away or is suffering from some illness and needs the comfort of his pressence. He will fucking hate you and he will be absolutely justified in his hatred.” Michael said, The Force for once actually tugging at his mind and guiding his thoughts a bit.
Jinn looked at Michael, a wisp of shock escaping. “I’m afraid you are correct Lieutenant Colonel. The problem is the Counci-”
“Frankly, Fuck the Council. If the sacks of shit up there aren’t letting you do your job, which is to train that boy there.” Michael said, pointing at the Padawan, “Then they need to be told they’re fucking idiots in so many words. If they don’t like that, too fucking bad what’s the worst that happens? You get kicked out?”
Jinn looked taken aback and then said, “It will be worse. Some will see a boy as powerful as him as a threat. They’ll want to strip his powers before he leaves.”
“And will you let them?” Michael asked.
He saw a half a second’s hesitation in the man’s face but no signature in The Force. “I will do what I think is right.” Jinn said.
Michael nodded. “We all do.” He said before pausing and saying. “If you ever need a place, go to the Terran Embassy. We could get you off-world and place you in one of our safehouses, away from prying eyes.”
“So you can recruit him?” Jinn asked.
“If he really wants to he can enlist but think of it this way, spending resources to keep ex-Jedi happy would be more than worth it even if all we achieve is keeping them out of the Galaxy. They can have their freedom and fulfillment and we can keep an eye on them. We have plenty of Force users, hell, they aren’t even enhancing folks like me anymore. We have so many low-level users.” He said.
“Just how many Jedi outcasts have you taken in?” Jinn asked.
“That’s classified information, Master Jedi.” Michael said, hardening.
Jinn nodded and said, “I don’t know if it will come to that but I will consider your offer if it does. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m just following the directives I’ve been given.” Michael said, snorting.
Before their conversation could continue a Naboo fighter ran in from the side hallway.
“I was told to get Lieutenant Colonel Hernandez!” she said, catching her breath.
Michael was up in a flash. “What is it?” He asked. The Naboo space fleet was due to be in orbit anytime now and while Michael really didn’t want to take his Arrowhead up without a functional Navigator he would do so if necessary.
“Captain Nyugen woke up.” The messenger said.
Michael nodded, shot a look at Jinn, and then began walking swiftly towards where the field hospital was.
Michael quickly felt where Nyugen was based on his Force connection and the small crowd he had around him.
“I just want to offer my thanks to you Captain. Without you and your people’s help many of my people would’ve died.” The Queen said to the immobilized Navigator.
Michael could feel embarrassment from Nyugen and a spine of vengeance prickled in the back of his mind.
Before Nyugen could speak Michael bellowed, “KIM YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU NEARLY GOT ME KILLED.” There was very little malice in his emotions and Nyugen would know that, but everyone else not tuned to The Force would have no idea about the subtext of their conversation.
All eyes turned to him and a path was cleared. Nyugen shifted, looking Michael dead in the eye.
“Oh hello Mike.” He said.
“That’s Lieutenant Colonel Mike, Captain Kimberly.” Michael said, humor edging into The Force as he used an old nickname.
Nyugen broke out into a wide grin and Michael could help himself. He smiled, walked over and got into an awkward embrace, slapping his old friend on the back.
Nyugen returned back to his lying position and in a more serious tone Michael asked, “How are you doing?”
“Remember when you looked at that nuke without flash protection?” Kim asked.
“Yeah, what about that?” Michael asked, wincing a little at the memory.
“Well I imagine what I’m feeling is something like that.” The Navigator said.
“Ouch, anything wrong Force-wise?” Michael asked. He really didn’t want to have another severe mishap on his conscience after his wife’s experience.
Nyugen shook his head. “No, it just hurts like a bitch.” He said.
“Oh well then just stop being such a fucking pussy.” Michael said, flashing humor.
“God, you have a way with words.” Nyugen said, flashing a smile.
Michael rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll see about getting Rachael back to flying status so we don’t have to deal with some shit like this again.”
“That makes two of us. I like my husband better.” Nyugen said.
“Yeah and I like my wife more, thank-you very much.” Michael said.
“Really? There was tha-”
“One time Kim! Before I was married we were both wasted. Don’t let it get to your head.” Michael said, irritation and humor exuding from him.
“Whatever you say man, just give me a call if you want some, ahem, help.” Nyugen said.
“Fucks sake this is why you haven’t made O-4.” Michael said, exasperated.
“Can’t help it. I have a charm all my own.” The other man said, smiling.
“Whatever, just rest and be ready for transport soon. I swear if you find some way to die Li will kill me, then my wife will bring me back and do it again.” Michael said.
“I’ll try my best.” Nyugen said.
Michael narrowed his eyes because he swore he felt a hint of mischief in The Force but let it rest. Instead he nodded and said, “Good," leaving his Navigator to continue answering questions while he went back to his bird.