Monday, September 21, 2009

Diplomatic Relations (Pt 10)

{The post you've all been waiting for...}

“All right,” Dara said once the pilots had changed from their Stawlian uniforms to their New Republic dress uniforms. “Are we ready to move? Redding, did you call Raven?”

“I did.” Redding flipped through a stack of data disks and pulled out the ones he needed. “There’s a problem.”

“No,” Dog said flatly.

Dara eyed him. “No, there is no problem?”

“No,” Dog repeated, “there can’t be a problem. We’re too close to getting off this ridiculously paranoid planet for there to be any problems.”

“Hush,” Dara ordered. “Redding, what is the problem?”

“She’s not answering. I keep getting directed to a messaging service.”

Dara considered. “That’s a problem.”

“Yes.”

“Not a big problem, but a problem.”

“Yes.”

“Do we know where she’s going to be?”

“We know that the diplomatic vessel is going to be at the spaceport. We know where she is being held. Technically, we could drive the route between the spaceport and where she is and look for her.”

“Not a great plan.”

“No.”

“But it is a plan.”

“We should be able to find her, yes.”

“Worst case scenario, we meet her at the spaceport.” Dara’s voice clearly indicated that she was ready to leave, with or without a plan.

“Look,” Dog interrupted. “Can we go already?”

Dara laughed and waved them all towards the door. “All right. We’ll start with her lodgings. Let’s go.”

~

Dog was already in the speeder, Redding and Jayem were on their way to join him. Dara stopped in the computer room where Josh and Marna were finishing dismantling the last computer.

“Two safe houses ruined in a week. I guess I should apologize,” Dara said.

Marna shook his head and came over to where she stood. “No,” he insisted, clasping her hand warmly. “I can’t thank you and your pilots enough for what you’ve done. Not just for me, but for all of the Fringe. You’ve given them confidence that they desperately needed.”

“I was just returning the favor,” she countered. “You and your organization saved our lives and Diplomat Raven’s reputation. Getting you out was the least we could do.”

“We’ll never forget you and your team, Dara,” Josh said.

“I hope you do,” Dara smiled. “I hope the Fringe does so many amazing things that you won’t be able to remember us at all. I’ll be waiting to hear of a regime shift on Stawl.”

“In time,” Marna said quietly. “Thank you again.” He and Josh walked her to the door.

“We can give you twenty minutes,” Dara said. “Maybe a little more than that, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“We can work with twenty minutes,” Josh said. “We’ll be out of here in five.”

“Excellent.” Dara clasped his hand, then Marna’s. “Good luck.”

“Goodbye, Dara,” Marna said. “Be careful.”

“And you, also,” she replied. She offered him a crisp, military salute, then left the room.

She nearly walked right into Zack, who had been waiting just outside the room. She smiled and stepped back. “It was great working with you, Zack. You’ve got good instincts. Make Josh let you use them.”

Zack nodded, abruptly wrapped her in a bone-crushing embrace, then, just as suddenly, released her. He stammered something that sounded like “thank you, then hurried away, beet red.

Dara, looking rather dazed, turned to Redding, who was leaning against a wall, watching with an amused expression. “What was that about?”

“He’s only nineteen, Dara. Still just a kid. You rescued his hero, so that makes you a hero, too.” Redding grinned.

Dara flushed a dull, embarrassed crimson. “But I don’t like heroes,” she commented as she brushed past him on her way to the speeder.

Redding chuckled and followed.

“Come on, Dara,” Jayem complained when they ran into the garage and jumped into the speeder. “We’ve been waiting for hours!”

Dara laughed at him. “Calm down. Everyone ready?” Upon receiving affirmative responses, she nodded to Dog. “Go.”

~

Dara’s instinct to start at Raven’s lodgings proved to be correct. They arrived to see a small crowd gathered, consisting of Raven, a handful of grim New Republic soldiers, some pompous State officials and their guards, and at least two dozen curious bystanders. Since this was apparently a State function, the laws against citizens congregating in groups larger than ten obviously did not apply. One particularly pretentious bureaucrat was standing at a podium, lecturing about the need for integrity in galactic diplomacy. Raven’s face was tight with stress and some of her authoritative bearing was lacking. When Dog pulled the speeder closer, the crowd turned to look.

Dog had taken down the speeder’s cover, so that everyone assembled could plainly see the occupants. Whispering and pointing began as people started to recognize them. Dara stood up as the bureaucrat paused uncertainly in his speech.

“People of Stawl,” Dara called loudly as her pilots lounged beside her, hands on blasters. “I am Major Daramis Mcejo. You requested representatives of the New Republic Starfighter Command. We came. And then your government tried to kill us.” There was a slight rumble of shock and displeasure from the crowd, and Dara continued, raising her voice. “They tried to kill us, and they killed hundreds of your own people in the attempt. Not only that, but they dared to blame it on our own diplomat. The State lied to us, the State falsely accused an agent of the New Republic, and the State is lying to you.”

The people began to shift restlessly, looking at each other, then at Dara, at the bureaucrat, and back at Dara. The guards glanced around uneasily, unsure of what to do. The bureaucrat was white and trembling with fury, gripping the sides of his podium fiercely.

“Impostors!” he shouted as he stabbed an accusing finger toward the pilots. “The New Republic pilots are dead! These are frauds, trying to shake your faith in your government!”

Standing slightly behind him, backed by six New Republic soldiers, Raven gaped in a rather undiplomatic manner, the beginnings of hope easing the strain around her eyes.

“Is he talking about us?” Redding asked lazily.

“I believe he is,” Jayem yawned.

“Arrest them!” the official yelled, and his guards snapped to attention. They began moving purposefully towards the pilots.

“Us again?”

“Us again,” Dara confirmed, keeping a close eye on the guards. She waited until they were less than ten meters away, then, “Dog, go!” They roared away, leaving behind spluttering Stawlian officials faced with the daunting task of controlling an irate crowd.

The guards gaped dumbfounded, as if disbelieving that anyone would actually run from them, and then doubled back to their speeders to give chase, leaving the pilots with a nice head start.

“You know where you’re going, right?” Dara asked Dog conversationally as she glanced over her shoulder.

Dog shrugged and increased speed. “More or less. But we need to give Marna time to get away, right?”

“Right.”

“Then let’s do some sightseeing.”

“Funny,” Jayem said sarcastically.

“No, I’m serious,” Dog grinned. “We need to lead the guards on a wild-goose chase so they’re distracted.”

“Just don’t get us caught,” warned Dara as she settled back to enjoy the ride.

Dog was an artist at the controls of any vehicle, and the Stawlian military speeder was no exception. His handling of the machine was impeccable, and the guards behind them were hard pressed to keep up. Dog had to slow down once or twice in order not to lose them. They did get a full tour of the capitol, though none of them knew what they were looking at.

“I am thoroughly unimpressed,” Jayem yawned. “Are we done yet?”

“Almost,” Dog called back. “The spaceport’s a few blocks away.”

“They’re gaining now,” Redding warned, hanging on to the side of the speeder as Dog made a hard right.

“Forget about it,” Dog yelled over the noise of the engine. “Two more turns and we jump.”

“We what?” Jayem demanded, sitting up straight.

“I can’t slow down, can I?” retorted Dog. “I’ll give the speeder a collision course and we get out of here.”

“We’re doing it, Jayem,” Dara commanded. “No more questions.”

Jayem scowled, but braced himself.

“Ready….” Dog threw the speeder into the first turn.

“Still behind us,” Redding reported.

Dog pulled the speeder hard to the left. “Now!” he shouted.

Redding jumped, hit the ground, and rolled, followed immediately by Jayem and Dog. Then Dara jumped and was struck with the sinking realization that her landing would be off. She unsuccessfully tried to correct in midair, but she hit the ground hard and her ankle folded inward. Rolling out of the street and toward a wall, she tried to stand. Her leg buckled, protesting violently at the pressure on her ankle. Pain pounded through the joint and she gritted her teeth.

Blast!” she ground out, bracing herself against the wall.

Instantly, Jayem was at her side, taking her weight and pulling her to cover just as the guards sped past, not yet realizing their error. Redding and Dog scanned the area with their blasters. Half-carrying, half-supporting Dara, Jayem went to the door and keyed it open. Relief swept over the group at the sight of their X-wings, undamaged and lined up in a precise row. Dara also noticed two guards lying in a corner of the hangar, still unconscious, still bound and gagged.

She looked up at Jayem. “Nobody noticed?”

He grinned. “Apparently not.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said optimistically, thinking that this could be the first true moment of good fortune during the entire Force-forsaken mission. “All right, people, let’s move!”

Dara was amazed and pleased when they discovered that all of their personal belongings were neatly stacked in a corner, including their flight suits. That meant they wouldn’t have to rendezvous with the diplomatic vessel before breaking atmosphere. The four pilots suited up in record time, despite Dara’s trouble with her ankle.

Dog had a huge grin on his face as he pulled his helmet on, so thrilled was he to be leaving Stawl. Redding and Jayem were unsuccessful at hiding their smiles, as well. Dara couldn’t deny a profound sense of relief, tempered by the pain in her joint. Redding helped Dara into her X-wing before climbing up into his own ship.

Dara switched on her comm. “Call out, boys.”

“Four green, Lead,” Jayem replied promptly.

“All good, Lead,” Dog said, practically on top of Jayem’s transmission. “Can we go already?”

“Three in the green, number two engine at eighty percent,” Redding reported.

“Are you worried about that, Four?” Dara asked.

“Not a bit, Lead. Let’s go!”

A new voice broke into their frequency. “Unauthorized pilots, this is Control. You are in a restricted zone. Power down your engines immediately.”

Dara laughed outright. It was not a pleasant laugh. “This is Major Daramis Mcejo of New Republic Starfighter Command,” she said grimly. “I suggest you raise the hangar doors before we blow them off.” She addressed her squad: “S-foils in attack position.”

Four pairs of wings split horizontally and slowly lifted apart, giving the fighters the shape for which they were named. Then the crafts gently elevated, stopping to hover about a meter from the ground.

“Unauthorized pilots,” the voice sounded a little worried now, “power down immediately!”

“Sorry, we’re done with diplomacy. On my mark, gentlemen. Three, two—“

“Wait!” The voice was now frantic. “We are raising the hangar doors now.”

“You have fifteen seconds, Control. We’re leaving either way.”

Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened. Then a strong male voice came over the comm. “Unauthorized pilots, this is Captain Zarn of the State Security Division. You are ordered by the State to stand down.”

“Mark,” was Dara’s quiet reply.

Sixteen lasers in quad-linked bursts fired simultaneously, reducing the hangar doors to so much melted slag. Alarms sounded and the side doors burst open to admit two squads of State soldiers.

“Shields up,” Dara ordered, setting an example. “Let’s go home, boys.”

“Right behind you, Major,” Redding said.

One after another, the four X-wings slipped out of the gaping hole in the hangar doors. Stawlian soldiers opened fire on the starfighters, the lasers from their blasters splashing ineffectually against the shields. The X-wings gracefully arced up into the sky and headed for the diplomatic ship that was also lifting from the ground.

When they reached comm range, Dara hailed the ship. “Diplomatic vessel, this is Major Daramis Mcejo. Do you need an escort?”

There was a brief pause, then: “Major Mcejo, this is Captain Leo of Diplomatic vessel Horizons. It is good to hear your voice! Is that the rest of your team with you?”

“As improbable as it may seem, we are all present and accounted for.”

“Best news we’ve had all week,” Captain Leo said with absolute sincerity. “We accept your offer of an escort. Transmitting our course to you now.”

“Escort formation,” Dara directed her pilots, and the X-wings slid neatly into position.

“Hopefully we won’t need an escort,” the captain continued, “but we did leave a lot of really upset Stawlians back there.”

“Perhaps,” Dara replied with a smile. “But we left quite a few happy ones, as well.”

“Diplomat Raven sends her congratulations on your survival. And her regrets that such an unorthodox departure was necessary.”

“That’s quite all right. It was the most action my team has seen all week, and they needed the outlet.”

“No kidding, Major Mother,” Dog cut in.

Normally, Dara would have called for less chatter, but this time she let her pilots fall into easy, lighthearted banter over the comm. She was just glad to be going home.

A new voice filled her cockpit, that of the Horizon’s navigator. “Lightspeed in sixty seconds. Fifty…forty…thirty….”

Dara listened absently to the countdown and sent her starfighter hurtling into the blue and white vortex of hyperspace on the navigator’s mark. They would be making the trip in a series of jumps. She estimated she had a little over two hours before their first reversion—plenty of time for a light nap. After checking in with her R2 unit and setting an alarm to wake her in an hour and a half, Dara settled back into the seat, making herself as comfortable as possible, and drifted into a light doze, trying still to ignore the steady throb of pain from her ankle.

~

Today

Dara had never found words adequate enough to describe how she felt upon returning from a mission with everyone still alive. Relieved wasn’t quite intense enough, neither was satisfied, or even pleased. A warm, contented feeling washed over her and she felt the knot of tension that had settled in her neck and shoulders loosen as Commenor, the planet their squadron currently called home, expanded to take over her viewport. After twelve hours of hyperspace jumps, they were finally back.

“Welcome home, Major Mcejo,” Captain Leo said and was met with cheers from her squad. Dara just leaned back in her chair and grinned like an idiot.

“You got nothing to say, Major Mother?” Dog asked.

“Too happy for words,” she replied.

“That would be a first,” Redding joked.

“Hush,” she said without reproach. “Tighten up your positions. We are an escort.”

The four pilots brought their X-wings into precise formation. None of them wanted anyone who might be watching to think their flying had gotten sloppy while they were on Stawl. Captain Leo gave them landing coordinates, and the cruiser angled toward the west side of the base. The X-wings peeled off and headed to a hangar in the south quadrant. The hangar was largely empty, but the moment they settled their ships down and cut the engines, the hangar flooded with an excited, beaming, swarm of men and women in uniform.

Redding, Jayem, and Dog popped their hatches and scrambled out of their fighters. Instead of jumping down from her X-wing, Dara waited for the mechanics to bring over a ladder. She also accepted the hands extended to help her down. The guys were exchanging handshakes and backslaps and accepting congratulations. A major from their partner squadron was waiting for Dara. He saluted, not even trying to hide his smile.

“Major Mcejo, it is a pleasure to see you and your team again.”

“Major Ondel, I cannot tell you how much the feeling is mutual.” She returned the salute and the smile, then looked around. The hangar was buzzing with people, but she only saw about half of Valor Squadron and she didn’t see her commander at all. “Where’s Rogue?”

“We haven’t told him.” Major Ondel’s smile spread into a mischievous grin. “All he knows is that Diplomat Raven was to return today.”

“So…Rogue doesn’t know we’re alive?” She leaned against a crate to keep weight off her injured ankle.

“No. He’s been depressed and grouchy ever since you died. We figured he wouldn’t believe us if we told him.”

“Well,” Dara laughed, “it’s nice to know we were missed. I suppose we should go show our faces so that he can sleep tonight.” She motioned her team to join her. “Let’s report in.”

~

“And then we came here, sir.” Dara leaned back in her chair and spread her hands. “And here we are.”

They had gathered a crowd. Rogue’s office was filled with Valor Squadron pilots and the hallway contained many members of other squadrons who couldn’t resist their curiosity. Dara had done most of the reporting, but Dog, Jayem, and Redding had interjected as they wanted. It was a thorough, if a bit casual, report.

There was a smattering of applause and shouts of congratulations as the other pilots began to disperse. When the room was clear, Dog stood and saluted.

“Permission to go eat, sir?”

Rogue smiled and nodded. “By all means. Dismissed.”

Jayem and Redding jumped up, gave salutes of their own, and followed Dog out of the office, leaving Rogue and Dara alone.

“I think I might join them, sir. All we’ve had is field rations in our X-wings since breakfast on Stawl. And I’m pretty sure that was yesterday.” Dara levered herself out of her chair and balanced precariously on one foot.

“You’re going to get that taken care of, yes?”

Dara made a face. “Yes, sir,” she said with a reluctance that stemmed from her dislike of visiting the medbay.

“And then get some sleep.”

She brightened at that. “As ordered.” She limped carefully to the door, turned, and saluted. “It’s good to be back, sir.”

“It’s good to have you back, Dara. All of you.”

“Thank you. And, sir?”

“Yes?”

“If I ever get volunteered to lead a diplomatic mission again, I’m resigning.”

He laughed. “Understood. I’ve already discussed it with Command.”

She grinned and opened the door.

“Oh, by the way,” he called, arresting her motion and drawing her gaze back. “You’ll get me your report? I’d like to go over it before Diplomatic Corps gets it.” He was surprised when she blushed.

“I’ll have it on your desk by tomorrow evening.”

Rogue looked confused. “Wasn’t there a report you were updating throughout this whole fiasco?”

Dara grinned sheepishly. “Yes,” she admitted, “there was. But… I left it on Stawl.”

~Fin~

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