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Echaaj'la

Part 2

(Part 1)

The continuation of this collaborative “fix-it”, post GGN tale. This has turned into a collaborative writing exercise between myself and @feralferrule, with input from a couple other vode. The thing I loved most about GGN was the collaboration and the reciprocal inspiration. Thanks so much to all of you for the ride!

Hang in there BIV boys, we’re coming!

Word Count ~5400

Synopsis - Joined by a couple friends, Archer and Choy get to know each other a little better while planning how they’re going to extract Hexx, Veetch, and Mayday from Barton IV without altering the timeline. Meanwhile, the Barton IV boys continue to freeze, still utterly baffled by their GGN ‘dreams’, but at least they were good dreams. 😙

Warnings: We’re trying to rope a bunch of chaos together (including some very non-canon shenanigans) and make it all behave. Let’s just go with it. 🤫 Some angsty-ness and tender moments. Archer isn’t sure how to process her feelings or worries. She needs a hug. Or maybe more of that pink drink.

Mando’a Words

Al’verde - commander

Aruetiise - Outsiders

Beskar’gam - armour

Beskaryc kar’ta - beskar heart

Copi - shortened from copikla, “cute”. Copi is Archer’s young rancor.

Haar Trak - “The Arrow”, Archer’s Kom'rk-class starfigher.

Kar’ta - heart

Kov’nyn - the Mandalorian “Keldabe kiss”. The touching of foreheads, usually by helmeted individuals. Can be used in combat (I.e., a violent headbutt), but when performed gently, this gesture is an act of affection and trust (not exclusively romantic), and demonstrates a bond between the individuals involved.

Ner - my

Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra - My soul is the night sky, and you are the moon and stars

Olarom - Welcome

Shab’la - screwed-up

Resol’nare - “The six actions”. Six tenets, central to the Mandalorian way of life.

Yaim’sik - home/house

Barton IV, Imperial Depot

Another frigid morning. Not that there were ever warm mornings, but he’d settle for a plain cold one once in a while. Commander Mayday rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood up from his cot. A thin skim of ice on the drab, grey duracrete walls of his bunk room shimmered in the pale light beginning to stream through the tiny window, and he could see each exhale as they puffed out in a swirling cloud in front of him.

This was a miserable place to be. He and his squad had been assigned to guard the remote outpost and its cargo crates over a year ago. The base came under constant attack from raiders - local people, and over the months most of the squad had been lost in the conflicts. Morale was at an all-time low, the Empire had all but abandoned them to their icy fates, and all of his squad had been lost apart from two troopers - Hexx and Veetch.

A faint reflection of light caught his eye as he bent to pick up his armour from its neat stack on the floor. The pendant around his neck, a copper coloured metal hexagon, was swinging and catching the orange glow from his small, barely functional, heating device. He paused to consider the simple pendant. It hung on a leather cord and had faint writing etched on it in runes he recognized as Mandalorian, but could not read.

He’d woken up one morning, about 6 months past and had discovered it hanging around his neck. The clothing strewn across the floor was not his usual blacks and his favourite, well his ONLY, pair of sunglasses had been missing. He’d stormed into Hexx and Veetch’s quarters demanding to know what trouble they had been up to, only to find them arguing about some wild theory. About a dream. A dream with eerie similarities to the one he’d had that night, and had continued having since.

The dream was difficult to remember, he had only brief images left when he awoke. A red rose woven into flowing brown hair. A tattoo in the shape of his pendant, etched on a pale sternum. Soft hands running over his hair and along his cheeks. His forehead resting gently against another. He always felt warm and a little less alone when he woke from this dream, but its appearance along with that of the pendant were utterly perplexing.

Dreams couldn’t explain the appearance and disappearance of physical objects. He must have spent too much time trapped at this miserable base, he was loosing his grip on reality. He’d spent several days trying to figure out what the kark had happened, but eventually gave it up for some quirk in the force. All he knew for sure, was that his new pendant was inexplicably dear to him (but couldn’t, sadly, shade his eyes from the glaring sun). He rarely took it off, and kept it hidden in the collar of his blacks.

With a sigh, he resigned himself once again to possibly never finding the answers to all of the questions he had. He tucked his pendant into his collar and began to kit up in his amour, wondering if the reinforcements he’d requested 28 rotations ago would be arriving finally.

***

In the adjacent barracks Hexx and Veetch were also preparing for the day. Veetch was rummaging through his small crate of belongings when he came across an item of ladies lingerie. He considered the lacy scrap of cloth for a moment. It still faintly held the scent from it’s presumable former owner. Together he and Hexx had a matching set. But Hexx never wanted to talk about their secret treasures. It felt like he’d gotten his in a dream, but that couldn’t be right - the fabric was real, he could hold it in his hands. The more he tried to puzzle out the answer, the more foggy his dream-like memory became. It had to be just a dream. A really good dream. Like a children’s tale, full of mystery and magic. He brushed the lacy fabric with his fingers one last time and then stood and headed out into the chill of the base.

Hexx followed him silently, his thoughts also on the inexplicable appearance of items he and his brother kept secret. Veetch had some wild theories about the mysterious appearances and the recurring dreams he had about a mystery woman, but had given up trying to connect the dots after their Commander had reprimanded him for making a huge, slightly insane string board on the wall of their barracks. The memory of the look on Mayday’s face when he’d first seen the huge art project still brought a smile to Hexx’s face.

Though he’d never admit it, Hexx had similar dreams, and often carried his treasure - a smaller scrap of lacy black fabric than Veetch had - with him through the day, convinced that it gave him good luck. He surreptitiously checked for its presence in one of his belt boxes. It was there, and the woman he’d gotten it from had to be out there too, she had to be real. He felt assured it was going to be a good day.

***

Kyrimorut, Mandalore

“This way, watch your head.” Archer held open a low door that curiously appeared to be hewn directly into the trunk of a vast veshok tree growing next to a pristine lake at the northern edge of the village. Choy ducked inside the door and found herself in an expansive, partially underground space. Numerous starships of varying sizes rested inside, gleaming in the low, artificial light.

“Wow. Mandalorians really love their secret, hidden spaces, huh?” said Choy. Archer chuckled. “Well, this is a secret stronghold for some very high-profile, moderately unstable and ridiculously wealthy military deserters, ex-Jedi and other similarly unsavoury characters. We don’t exactly want to hang out an olarom sign for the Empire.” Archer smirked.

Archer had just received a message from Jaing, the information specialist they’d visited not an hour before. He’d informed them that an Imperial shuttle was scheduled to deploy to Barton IV two standard rotations from now. They didn’t have much time to waste so they’d come to prepare to leave for Barton IV.

Archer led her in the direction of the large hangar door, which appeared to open directly out from the side of the tree under which the hangar was build, opposite the small door they had just entered by. There was a medium-sized starship parked here, its wings in an upright position. As they approached the side of the ship, a woman in dark crimson coveralls slid out from underneath it wiping grease from her hands with a rag.

“Choy, this is Parja. Parja, Choy,” Archer introduced. She turned to Choy. “Parja is our resident mechanic and general technical specialist. She’s Fi’s partner. Parja,” she said turning back towards the other woman, “thanks for doing my preflight-check on such short notice. I’m afraid we’ve have to depart unexpectedly quickly.”

Choy studied the fierce-looking mechanic. She looked pretty familiar, and she knew they’d met briefly. “Oh! We met at GAR Goth Night,” she realized out loud.

Parja raised an eyebrow, “Where? ‘GAR’ as in Grand Army of the Republic?”

Choy looked questioningly at Archer who nodded [[She’s safe, just remember I’m on the down low.]] Choy gave her a subtle wink and turned back to Parja.

“Parja, I’m glad to really meet you. I only just saw you across the dance floor at 79’s on Coruscant months ago. You were dancing with your husband and his brother and Archer.” Parja squinted her eyes and looked just over Choy’s head. “Everyone was dressed in black and the clone bar was decorated all spooky? Do you remember?”

She shook her head, casting her gaze around, “I, I thought I had some dreams kind of like that. Fi hasn’t mentioned anything like it,” she looked at Archer. “You were there? With us?” Archer nodded.

“I can help you remember,” Choy offered, holding up her hand. “I’m no Jedi but I can do the same stuff they can. The place had some special power over it that night that gave us all amnesia, but someone helped me remember and I helped Archer.”

Again Parja looked to Archer for confirmation.

Choy continued, “May I jog your memory?” She held out her hand, “I promise the rest of your mind is safe, I won’t go poking around or anything,” Choy smiled. Parja nodded and placed her hand on Choy’s. Choy stepped closer, placed her other hand on Parja’s and began radiating calm and reassuring energy toward her.

“I will show you images, [[of the club from my memories.]] Choy switched to speaking through the force. She sent safe welcoming energy into Parja’s brain, visualizing a mist lifting off of her mind. Choy then projected her own memory of Parja arriving at 79’s with Rav, her outfit, her husband, the dancing. [[it was a theme night at 79’s, gothic, melancholy, romantic]] she showed her the other patrons, the decor, the performers on stage. She coaxed out Parja’s suspended memories frozen by the strange fogginess that she could feel in the force around people who had been at GGN.

Parja drew a sharp breath, “Yes, that’s like my dream. Oh, this all really happened. I was there!”

Choy continued. [[Archer met a clone commander in the GAR - well Empire now - Mayday, who went through quite the effort to woo her.]] Choy showed Mayday giving her the rose and a snippet of how they looked at each other.

Archer watched Parja’s expression soften from surprise and wonder to something happier as she caught Archer’s eye. Choy felt Parja’s caring and gladness directed toward her friend, and noticed Archer crossing her arms, cheeks colouring a bit.

[[And I- well, I hit it off with his men.]] Choy carefully parsed the more intimate memories from her projection into Parja’s mind, but some of the emotion slipped through, the infatuation, the deep concern. Parja’s attention was back on Choy, Archer noting her raised eyebrows and Choy’s blush.

[[I know what terrible things are going to happen to these men, and have come here to ask Archer for her help to rescue them from the Imperial base they are stationed at.]] Choy showed her memory of the images of Barton IV, the explosion, the row of helmets, Mayday with a heavy heart, the avalanche, Crosshair, and the cold, indifferent Imperial officer. Mayday dead in the snow.

“The Empire is throwing clones away like trash, abusing them, even experimenting on them now.” Choy said out loud with restrained passion, blinking back tears. She released Parja’s hand with a quick squeeze to bring her back to the here and now. “Thank you for listening,” Choy added and stepped back out of Parja’s personal space.

Parja blinked slowly and then looked to Archer. “So now you’re flying off to some Imperial installation, without a plan, or backup, to extract three random clones?”

Archer scoffed. ”Who said I don’t have a plan?”

”Does your “plan” involve a crate of thermal detonators?”

Archer shrugged non-commitally, a huge grin on her face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Scorch.” Parja smirked, then turned serious. “But you know better than to think we’ll let you go to infiltrate an Imperial base by yourself, Keb. I’m coming with you and we’re bringing Fi too,” she continued, walking off.

“Your ship’s grounded until we come back!” she shouted over her shoulder as she left through the small door, heading towards the Skirata home.

Choy looked at Archer quizzically. “Keb?”

”My name. It’s Kebii’tra. “Archer” is a nickname of sorts.”

Choy nodded as she considered the irony that her own name now was a nickname derived from Archer’s language. She looked around at the space and wondered about the construction of the place and how these enormous compounds couldn’t be older than the huge trees above.

She looked at the comically small door that Parja had just left through and tipped her head. “So if you want to use the force on this adventure, you can just blame me. But that Parja’s a good egg. Would you ever feel safe coming out to her as a force user? Why’d you tell me anyway? You have that pink booze they were passing out? That stuff was something else.” Choy waved a hand up dismissively, and cast her gaze around Archer’s ship. “You don’t have to answer any of this, I’m just thinking out loud right now. But if she’s going to help- which is great, don’t get me wrong, I just think that says a lot about how much she cares about you.” She turned to Archer and looked her in the eyes, “Now, I’ll take your secret to my grave but I don’t think you should have to.”

Archer shrugged in Choy’s direction. “They liberate and take in defected clones here. It’s part of the reason this place exists, and it’s how they live by the Resol’nare. But Mandalorians have a long… tumultuous history with force users. The conflicts between us have shaped our culture for centuries. Distrust of the Jedi runs deep in our blood, and Mandalorian force users may be hidden away or shunned. It’s different here, people are less traditional, obviously, but I don’t have a great many friends and I don’t want to lose any because I’m different.”

Choy didn’t fail to notice the slightly pained look that briefly crossed Archer’s face.

”And to your second question,” she said abruptly changing the subject, “You threatened me.” Choy received a teasingly wicked grin. “It was only fair I let you know what you were getting yourself into,” she said with a wink.

Continuing, she said, “Since you mentioned them, those pink drinks - what did they do to us? They made me feel strange. Like I wasn’t quite myself in some ways. I did some things I wouldn’t normally have, and everything I felt seemed exaggerated. It was all so intense by the end of the night. ”

“Hold up,” Choy laughed, “Is it really a threat if I don't know you can hear me?” she smirked at the other woman. “Anyway, yeah we were definitely in an altered state,” she squinted her eyes and thought back to that night. “I’ve had a while to reflect on this and I believe what I was feeling was genuine. Like, I was really annoyed with Jesse, but I was already annoyed with him. I avoided Echo after the drinks because I knew my heart would break in a million pieces if I saw him. I felt very platonic toward the Bad Batchers and all the ladies felt like sisters I never had. It was like I felt everything stronger, but it all came from me.”

She shifted her weight to one leg and held a hand out. “But would I have jumped in the sack with two men had I been sober?” She shrugged, “Possibly. Probably- honestly,” she nodded, “ that’s exactly what I would have done then. I was still hormonal like a tooka in heat- sorry, I know, TMI. But between the force being new for me and the stupid GAR-issue birth control implant, I was a hot mess. I still have to focus every day just to manage it, but it’s better. I wasn’t eased into the force from birth like you or anyone else in this galaxy. Yoda said it’s the nature of power to fill voids. Apparently I was a void,” Choy added sardonically, eyebrows raised.

She looked at Archer again who seemed not at all reassured. Choy sighed, “Here’s what I think- whatever you did with Mayday, that came from your heart. It didn’t feel like regular drunk inhibition to me and you didn’t seem drugged. I’ve seen that and your mind felt clear. We’ll just have to see how we feel about the guys when we get them, and how they feel about us, too. Who knows, maybe we just end up rescuing them and it’s like catch and release.”

She paused and stepped a little closer to Archer, “Hey, nothing you did was inherently bad. Do Mandalorians have cultural rules, taboos about this sort of thing? Or your own rules you have for yourself?”

“There’s no cultural taboo. Far from it.” Archer paused, looking a little uncomfortable. “I’m just…not usually into the casual scene I guess. I don’t really regret anything, I’m just still unsure how things seemed to move so quickly for me. And of what that might mean.”

Choy sensed something behind Archer’s words, but let it be for the time being.

Archer continued, unprompted. “I gave him my kar’ta…” she admitted. “He was still loyal to the Empire, I couldn’t tell him about this place,” she gestured around them, “couldn’t yet offer him, them, a place to get away to. But still, I gave it to him.”

“Your kar’ta?” Choy asked her, unsure of what she meant, but sensing a weight to the admission.

“My heart. My beskar heart - from my armour,” she hedged slightly. “He hung it around his neck, and wore it as a pendant the rest of the night.”

“I’ve read that piece is special. It symbolizes the heart and spirit of the Mandalorian people, right?” She eyed Archer knowingly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she trailed off, apparently unprepared to go further.

”Hey,” Archer began anew, once again changing the course of the conversation, “since we have a bit of time before Parja comes back with Fi, let's head back to my yaim’sik for a minute. I should introduce - or maybe reintroduce - you to someone.”

“Yes, of course,” Choy said a little absentmindedly. She followed Archer out of the little door and back through the woods. She was considering how deeply affected Archer seemed to be by her dalliance with Mayday. Choy felt deep guilt seeping up. A memory of Hexx throwing the back room key to Mayday at her suggestion played across her mind. She realized that she had drawn Archer into the storm she was caught in, her lack of boundary and control stoking that far deeper power than the force, the fires of desire, the very thing driving all the conflict and war for power around them. She realized that maybe she wasn’t supposed to be here just for the boys, but for Archer, too. She felt a strong resolve to help Archer regain her sense of integrity and to set things right.

Sensing her inner turmoil, Archer looked back at Choy who had straggled behind with her thoughts. Choy just smiled and quickened her pace. “So who’s the mystery person? Someone from GGN, I’d imagine?”

”Oh yes, I think you’ll quite like her.”

***

Hyperspace, en-route from Mandalore to Barton IV

Archer reclined in the pilot’s chair of her Kom’rk-class starfighter - Haar Trak - content for the moment to rest and process some of the memories and information Choy had unlocked. They were presently speeding through hyperspace on their way from Mandalore to Barton IV, a journey that was nearly complete.

Parja and Fi had joined them, Parja being convinced that they would need the help. Or maybe she was just eager for another opportunity to see some of their new gear tested in action. She wasn't sure. Both Parja and Fi had spoken with Choy and were relieved of the fog over their memories. They were now seated towards the rear of the ship, conversing quietly.

Choy was seated beside her in the copilot’s chair, apparently lost within her own thoughts. She’d made it clear to them that in order to maintain the integrity of future events, the three clones must be extracted without the knowledge of anyone on Barton IV, and that they must all be believed to have been killed in action. This was going to be… interesting.

The Imperial clone trooper known as Crosshair would soon be arriving on Barton IV with one Lieutenant Nolan. Crosshair had been at GGN and had seemed to know Mayday then. It was curious that this day would be the first time they’d be meeting, according to Choy. Now that she was thinking of the people she’d seen that night, she realized there were quite a few people there who seemed to be from another time. Curious. She wondered, not for the first time, what purpose the minstrels had had for bringing all of those beings together the way they had. What a story that must be.

This mission to free the three steadfast clones trapped on Barton IV was the right thing to do, and aligned with Kyriomorut’s objective of liberating and bringing more vode to the stronghold. But she’d also promised Mayday she’d come for him, and she felt compelled to fulfill that promise - no matter the ultimate outcome. Sure, he hadn’t known exactly what she’d meant and probably didn’t remember anything about that night, but still she’d given her word.

Choy had made it clear that all three men had experienced much in the past months and would be happy to move on to a different life, if given the chance. It was time to fulfill her promise, then. She recalled the last few moments of GGN, and felt her resolve strengthen. The memory played before her eyes.

Mayday hugged her close at a table near the bar, she was seated sideways across his lap. He laid his head against her shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He sighed deeply as she waved to Eo and her squad as they departed for the night.

She looked down at him and stroked his hair soothingly with her free hand as the tumult of emotions roiling inside him washed over her. He’d seemed lost in thought, trapped in a loop of “what-if’s”.

“Are you tired, Al’verde?” she’d asked.

He’d looked up at her, his large eyes tinged with emotions she didn’t want to name. It was a heartbreaking look, and one she couldn’t deny held more than just weariness.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong, ner kar’ta?”

“The club is closing soon.” He paused for a long moment, searching her gaze and clutching her more tightly to him. “And I don’t want to leave.”

She’d looked up then, noticing that indeed the club was beginning to clear out, patrons saying their farewells and making their way to the exit. Hexx and Veetch had been hovering nearby, both looking dispirited after Choy’s departure. It was time for them to go as well.

Setting her nearly empty glass of pink-drink down on the table behind her she pressed her palm to Mayday’s cheek, running her thumb back and forth softly. He leaned into the touch.

“Shab,” she thought to herself with a heavy sigh of her own, “this one is the call for help that has brought me more trouble.” What was it that made these three bearded troopers so sweet and hard to deny? And why-oh-why must they still be with the Empire? Why couldn’t she just offer him and his men a safe place to go?”

She’d brought her forehead to rest against his in a gentle kov’nyn and said softly, “Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra.” She knew that he’d probably understood only a few of the words but she could feel their impact on him nonetheless.

Their fast-growing attachment to each other was probably obvious to everyone in the club. She should have kept her distance, knowing they would inevitably have to part - maybe permanently - at the end of the night, but she’d been as helpless in the end to the mysterious atmosphere of GGN as everyone else.

”Come with me?” he’d asked then.

Before she’d been able formulate a response Hexx and Veetch appeared over his shoulder and cleared their throats.

”Uhm, commander? Sir?” Veetch spoke hesitantly.

Mayday’s posture stiffened immediately, and he nearly growled his response. “I know, Veetch.”

Mayday sighed once again before rising from the chair and setting her on her feet. He took her hand in his, and as a group they walked towards the doors. He paused with her, eyeing the two troopers meaningfully. They walked through the doors with a nod… and seemed to fade in a pink-tinged mist that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago.

What the kark? She hadn’t questioned that at the time. Mayday hadn’t seemed to notice.

He was hesitating, his reluctance to go etched in every line of his posture and rippling off him in strong pulses. His eyes said everything he wouldn’t voice. She squeezed his hand and tried to send a subtle wave of calm reassurance to him. He took a shaky breath and crushed her to his chest. She squeezed him back as he said, “I’ll comm you. Promise.”

He pulled back and grinned at her. Mand’alor, that cheeky smile was contagious. She returned it with a wink and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t forget, Al’verde. I’ll come after you if you do, and I’ll bring Copi,” she threatened teasingly.

“Promise?”

“Ni haat’mitir.”

Eyes shining, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He turned quickly and passed through the doorway, fading away in swirling pinkish mist.

Again she hadn’t questioned that decidedly not normal departure at the time.

And of course, he hadn’t contacted her. She’d promised to come after him, and now she was. But the uncertainty she felt about where would they would stand after all the time that had passed was distracting. She sighed quietly. “Stop it,” she chided herself.

It didn’t matter what happened after. Getting the three men away from the Empire, saving their lives, giving them a chance to live and make their own choices was all that mattered. She was a professional. She was not going to let these dikut’la pink-mist generated emotions and worries get in the way of completing this mission with everyone intact.

Clearing her throat, Archer turned fully in her seat to face Choy. ”Show me again, the events of the afternoon when we’ll have to get your two lads out.” Choy took Archer’s offered hand and sent images of Crosshair overhearing an urgent comm message from Veetch relaying that Hexx had been taken down by raiders, followed by images of a shuttle stationed in front of the base exploding and sending a man in clone trooper armour - Veetch - flying through the air.

Parja and Fi, overhearing the activity joined the planning in the cockpit.

”It seems as though there are only a couple minutes between when Veetch reports Hexx to have been taken down at the back of this depot and when he himself is caught up in this shuttle explosion near the southwestern end.” Archer said, deep in thought.

“Yes, and Crosshair will be closely watching the shuttle explosion from the eastern watchtower, while Mayday is investigating in the northwestern area. The light from the detonation will blind Crosshair temporarily but only for a few seconds. There won’t be much time to get to Veetch without him noticing us,” said Choy.

“Hm. We’ll have to split up into two teams to get to both men in time, I think,” Archer returned. “If we can covertly station one team on the east side near where the raiders make initial hard contact with Hexx and Veetch behind the barracks building, they can provide the boys with some subtle non-lethal cover fire and transport Hexx to the ship after Veetch breaks away to the south towards the shuttle. A covert stun-shot on Hexx while Veetch has his back turned should maintain his story of being taken down and prevent him from actually being shot.”

Choy looked slightly aghast at the idea of deliberately stunning Hexx, but said, “I’m a pretty good shot, I can probably manage that.”

Fi brightened. “Looks like you’re teaming up with me! I’ve heard I’m ok with a blaster rifle.” He winked. Parja rolled her eyes fondly.

“Make sure you’re not firing unless you really need to. Stun bolts will be really obvious and if anyone notices, your cover will be blown”, Parja added. “But what about the other man, Veetch?”

Archer crossed her arms. “You and I will get him. This might be a good chance to try out that new remote override device you guys been working on. You up for a covert installation and remote “self-destruction” of an imperial shuttle?”

“You know it.” Parja smiled. She was always game for testing out new tech. Especially if it caused a little mayhem for the Empire.

If we detonate that shuttle just a bit earlier than what Choy’s seen, it’ll still provide the flash of light we need for visual cover, and it’ll throw Veetch up into the right spot without it being fatal for him. If my timing is right, I should be able to jet in and snatch him from the air as he’s blown back away from the shuttle.” Archer looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose the intensity of the explosion may be enough to explain the fact that he is suddenly missing too.”

“Wait,” Choy interjectected, “you can carry the weight of an armoured man while flying your jetpack?” asked Choy a bit doubtfully.

“I once scooped up a fully Katarn-armoured commando. Dropped him in a mud pit. It was hilarious,” Archer reflected with a smile.

“You… what?” Choy blinked incredulously.

“He called Copi ugly.” Archer shrugged. “Anyway, these skinny lads shouldn’t be a problem”.

“Wow, ok.” Choy blinked. “Oh! We’ll have to make sure some armour pieces stay behind, or at least their helmets.” Archer looked at Choy questioningly. “Trust me,” said Choy.

Archer shrugged. “Very well.”

Fi wondered, “The base’s perimeter sensor array may be problematic for us trying to stage ahead of time. Do you have an explosive plan to deal with that too?”

Archer considered for a moment. “If what Choy’s shown us is accurate, their sensors are shab’la. But we may be safest to get into position after the raiders have triggered the alarm themselves. Timing will be tight, but we’ll avoid detection, save time, and it should be workable with all the chaos, right?”

“The larger concern though is the likelihood that those troopers will have no memory of us and will probably resist our abduction efforts. Choy, can you remedy that before they regain consciousness?”

“They should be conscious for me to help them remember. I think I can handle them though.” Choy smiled at the group reassuringly.

“And Mayday?” Archer asked gravely. “When can we get Mayday out?”

Choy glanced to the side for a moment, before returning her gaze to meet Archer’s. “Mayday has to believe that Hexx and Veetch are gone. He has to stay with Crosshair for a bit longer. Just until the next morning. It’s Crosshair befriending Mayday, being saved by him, and then witnessing what he thinks is Mayday’s death that lets him move past the Empire. It seems cruel, but I believe it has to happen. For the sake of a lot of lives.”

There was a long silence, as the group looked at each other. Archer felt deeply unsettled. “We have to allow him to be injured and then appear to die under these horrible circumstances? What if he does die?”

She wasn’t sure she could remain composed if she had to witness that.

”I’m almost certain he doesn’t,” responded Choy immediately. “At least not right there, like I showed you. Fi interjected “He certainly will suffering from hypothermia, which in its final stages can cause loss of consciousness. Pulse and respirations can be difficult to detect too. We will need to get him quickly to the ship and stabilize any injuries he’s got from the avalanche. He’ll probably need the bacta tank back home.”

[[I believe you can get to him in time, and we can look after him and Hexx and Veetch. It’s all going to work out, you’ll see.]] Choy was looking at Archer, and she felt her trying to convey confidence and reassurance. “We can do this,” Choy then said aloud to the group.

The ship’s navicomputer emitted an auditory tone before dropping the craft out of hyperspace. The icy visage of Barton IV loomed large in the viewscreen. Archer looked at her hastily assembled rescue squad and nodded.

“Well, we’ll soon find out.”

Tagging same folks as last time - let me know if it’s a bother! @eobe @lonewolflupe @ghostymarni @foxwithadarkside @nocturius8015ficore @feralferrule @noblelightfighter @fuzzyenthusiastnelket01

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