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Later, they would realize that the TIE squadron had been lying in wait. The ambush was too perfect, too studied; it became clear in retrospect that they had known exactly where Phoenix Squadron’s Two Flight would be flying reconnaissance and when they would cross the plains near the plateau. The TIEs had powered down, using passive sensors only to monitor the approach of the three E-Wings and the Chiss Defender. As they came into range, the TIEs powered up, falling from the plateau atop Two Flight before the squadron had a chance to react.
Green-tinted lasers splashed against shields, their fire concentrated not on the lead E-Wing, but on the left-most one - Two-Flight Leader’s habitual position. Before he or any of his comrades could react, his shields faltered beneath the barrage and his wing sheared away in a shower of sparks and debris. His E-Wing went spiraling out of control, slamming into the ground below.
“Jacen!”
Even as fire and smoke erupted from the downed ship, the other three scattered, the panicked cry echoing through their cabins. The twelve TIEs arrowed past the fleeing E-Wings, intent on the Chiss Defender as their next target. Again, it would be apparent later that their targets had been chosen ahead of time; they had known that Lieutenant Jacen Syndulla habitually rode left, leaving lead up to his wingman. Once he was down, they focused on their next prey: the Resistance’s solitary Chiss.
It didn’t take long for Ainyan to realize that she was their primary target. “Six, Eight, get out of here! Scramble back to base, tell them what happened.”
“You’re out of your mind!” Six’s voice fairly crackled with shock over the com. “You can’t take on twelve of them! Coming back to help-”
Ainyan juked left, narrowly avoiding the fire from the lead TIE. “I really don’t have time to argue. There’s twelve of them and three of us - we need someone to get home and tell them the plan’s gone belly up. Tell the General the news,” she added, voice breaking slightly as she rolled her Defender and swiveled around to shoot one of the TIEs out of the sky.
Eight chimed in, “If you think we’re going to let you sacrifice yourself-”
“I do, and you are,” came the implacable reply as she took out another TIE, then grunted as her shields took a beating from three others. “And the longer you argue, the more likely they are to finish me and catch you. Get
out
of here!”
Their snarled curses told her that she’d convinced them, and she watched on her radar as the two friendly ships arrowed off. Two TIEs broke off of their pursuit of her to follow them, but she had no concerns that Six and Eight would have no trouble taking them out.
Down to eight on one. Maybe
-
Even as the thought crossed her mind, her ship rocked beneath the combined blasts of several of her pursuers, and she felt as much as saw the shields drain away.
Blast it! If I’m going down, I’m taking them with me
.
Pushing power from her hyperdrive - she’d never get to use it - to her shields, she turned on her pursuers, dogfighting with them in the sultry air. She knew next to nothing about this planet - this Exquivior - where she was like to meet her end. She knew only that it was one of three worlds where the flights of Phoenix Squadron had been tasked with overflying known Resistance-leaning settlements and determining if the inhabitants needed any aid. It should have been an easy assignment; the First Order base was set half a continent away, and there was little reason for any overflight here.
“Why were you here?” she murmured, but there was no response; com channels were closed, and she didn’t fly with an astromech - an oversight, perhaps, that she might consider rectifying if she got out of this. Though where she’d put the damn thing…
The impact of lasers against her waning shields jolted her wandering thoughts back to the present, and she juked sideways to avoid another volley. With a snarl through bared teeth, she throttled back, dropping between the two lead TIEs and causing them to veer off to avoid hitting her shields. That allowed her to swing around and nail one from behind, shooting through the cloud of debris left behind before spinning around and clipping another. She got enough of him to send him careening downward, and the explosion from hitting the ground assured her he wouldn’t be walking away.
See how you like it. Kteh!
She forced her thoughts away from Jacen.
Two more down. Six to go, but her shields were nearly drained and energy was at a premium. Even as she sighted on one of the TIEs, a second got a lucky shot that took out her aft shields and splattered the remainder of the laser against her hull, scorching it and coming perilously close to her dorsal sail. Cursing, she jerked the stick and aborted her run, bouncing back into the sky.
I can’t keep this up much longer.
Then she gave a mental sigh.
I don’t have to. Six and Eight are away, and Jacen doesn’t need me anymore.
Her chest ached; her lungs burned. She wasn’t sure if it was for her death, or for Jacen’s.
Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, seeking out that fabled Chiss calm. Cool. Collected.
I am Chiss
.
When those limitless scarlet eyes opened once more, they were cold and hard, and the death that filled them belonged not to her, not to the man who had accepted her, but to the TIE pilots closing in for the kill.
They might get me, but they won’t survive the experience.
She looped around, dodging first left, then right to avoid the lasers that her opponents spat at her, returning their fire with her own. One TIE fell to her assault, then a second, while the third managed to clip her left sail, tearing through the solar plating and sending it sailing off towards the ground. Gritting her teeth, she yanked on the stick and fought against the sudden imbalance of flight, swallowing hard against the nausea the sudden pitching induced.
She got another, but two of them rushed her, forcing her into the shot of a third. As her second sail came off, she knew gravity was about to win.
Maybe
… She gazed through the viewport, searching for a place to crash.
Smoke; billows of it.
Jacen’s E-Wing
. Could she confuse them in the smoke? Make them overlook her by pretending to be part of his crash?
It didn’t matter. At this speed, she was unlikely to survive.
But I don’t want them getting the Defender
.
She angled towards the smoke.
So fast. The ground was coming towards her so fast. She couldn’t -
She hit.
Pain brought her to consciousness; a burning ache in her side and breast, searing pain across her thigh. One didn’t become a pilot - a warrior - without recognizing the signs.
Broken ribs - two, maybe three. Slashes. Burns on my back. My head - ow.
Still, pain meant she was alive - a most unexpected but welcome surprise. Now she just had to stay that way. Opening her eyes, she squinted against the glare of the sunlight filtering in through the viewport and lifted her hand to shield them.
Faceplate’s gone.
She sighed and unstrapped the useless helmet, tossing it lightly to the side. Next she tackled her straps, grunting as she ended up resorting to cutting through them.
With every movement, there was a dull ache in her side and a worrying pressure against her lungs that warned her that at least one of those broken ribs was poking up against them.
Just have to take it easy. No problem.
She climbed out of the cockpit of the Defender and lowered herself laboriously to the ground. Then she turned, gazing at the ruin of her beloved ship, and found herself sliding down to perch awkwardly on a rock.
No problem at all.
Carefully; so carefully, she reached into the thigh pocket of her jumpsuit, pulled free her com. Without much hope, she toggled it on, tuning to the frequency used by the Resistance fighters. “Calling any Resistance. Pilot down. In need of medical assistance. Respond. Over.” She waited; one breath, two breaths, then repeated her call.
Static. No one was there.
Gasping in shallow breaths, trying to ignore the stabbing pain that accompanied each one, she thumbed through the frequencies.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
A stuttered beeping; nothing that she recognized.
Silence.
Unable to take the oppressive sound of nothing, she slid the dial back to the beeping. It was something at least - a faulty com, perhaps, with the switch left depressed, echoing the sound of a terminal at work across the grass-covered plains.
She wasn’t sure what to do with all of this life. This grass. This warmth. She was a daughter of Csilla, of an ice age’s multi-millenia long grip, of snow and frost and frigid wastelands above.
And below? Verdant caverns made warm by reactors that drifted across the sky, echoing the primary above. Artificial breezes, artificial light, artificial life - artificial worlds created to nurture the small, hardy population that remained on the Chiss homeworld after the exodus.
Home. Where she should be dying. Not here - not on this unfamiliar, unnaturally
natural
world.
Her thoughts wandered, drifting, aimless...
Beep. Beep beep. Beep, stutter, beep. Odd, how machines had their own languages. The more she listened, the more it sounded like…
“Chipper?” she gasped out, into the com, and the beeping faltered, then began again at high speed. “Slow down! I can’t understand you that fast. Where
are
you?” As he gave coordinates, she pulled free the small, handheld navicomp she barely knew how to use. Toggling it on, she studied it, then struggled to her feet and angled herself in the direction she thought he’d said.
Towards the not-so-distant smoke still leaking from Jacen’s E-Wing.
Of course.
She quailed. Finding Chipper meant she was that much more likely to survive until help arrived, but the idea of finding Jacen’s body - of seeing him broken, beaten… he had been her first friend in this benighted part of the galaxy. Her only friend for the longest time, until the rest of Phoenix had come around to having a Chiss among them. Even now...
Chipper's interrogative whistle sounded through the com and she swallowed. “I’m on my way,” she agreed, fingers closing tight around the com. “I’m on my way.
To her bafflement, the coordinates led her slightly away from the stream of smoke staining the sky, and she wondered if the waving grasses and stiff breeze were confusing her. Almost, she adjusted her course to realign to the left with the crash when a soft series of beeps sounded to her right.
Through the grass, Chipper emerged, whistling excitedly as he rolled right up to her foot and butted gently against her calf. “Ow. Hey Chipper.” Gingerly, she knelt, wincing as her rib prodded her lungs, as her cuts stretched and stung, and reached out to rest her hand atop the dome of his head. “Glad you made it out okay. Guess you ejected?”
He chirped and whirred and butted against her again. She rose, frowning at him, and he continued to batter gently against her, nudging her backwards. “Okay, okay, I’m going…” She turned, and her words trailed off, eyes widening. “Jacen,” she breathed.
Then she scrambled forward, falling to her knees with a pained yelp beside the fallen lieutenant where he rested against the base of a towering rock. He blinked dazed teal eyes at her. “I musta
really
hit my head,” he croaked, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Now I’m hallucinating. At least it’s you.”
“You’re alive. How are you alive?” She echoed his gesture, her fingertips whisper-soft against his bruised cheek as she gazed at him.
He frowned, his thumb skimming along her jaw. “Wait. You’re really here? You’re - Ain, you’re a mess.” When he would have sat straighter, she reached out to press him back down, then painfully twisted until she was sitting next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “What happened?” he asked, dropping his fingers away from her face before reaching down to take her hand in his, needing that contact that told him what was real.
Trembling with the weight of the emotions swamping her, she leaned lightly against him, fingers tightening around his. “They ambushed us,” she replied grimly. “Fell down from the plateau and took you out before we even registered. Then they all came after me, so I sent Six and Eight home to tell them what happened and… played decoy.”
He leaned back into the rock, tilting his head back and gazing skyward. “You sacrificed yourself,” he corrected flatly, and she winced. Then she coughed, and winced again at the stabbing pain in her lungs. Another cough, and a faint copper taste filled her mouth.
Of course
, she thought dully.
Ignoring the faint taste of blood, she leaned her head on his shoulder, felt the weight of his cheek against her hair. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But it was vital someone get home, tell them what happened to us. And by now they have to realize that it wasn’t coincidence.”
He was silent long enough that she shifted the fingers he held until she could press her fingertips to his wrist. His pulse fluttered against her touch ragged but strong. “I’m still alive,” he murmured. “I was just thinking back - I think you’re right. They came on us too fast; they were waiting for us. There was no surprise on their end. Someone told them where we’d be, when we’d be there.”
She closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers absently over the line of his pulse until he twisted his hand and caught at her fingers again. “It’s more than that, Jace,” she murmured, her voice hoarse and watery. “They knew where you flew - they went right for you. Most flight leads fly at the front; you’re one of the few I know who prefers a wing position. And when you were down… they went for me.”
He exhaled, wincing at the pain in his head. “We’ve got to get out of here. We have to get word to someone where we are. I can’t - it’s hard to think.”
Painfully, she straightened, turning gingerly until she could reach out to cup his jaw in her hand. “Look at me, Jacen,” she coaxed, and he slowly turned his head to gaze in her direction. As she’d feared, one of his pupils was blown. “Flame,” she whispered. “You have a concussion.”
“Yeah, figured,” he sighed, waiting until she’d settled down again before leaning into her. “It’s getting harder to concentrate, stay awake. Gotta stay awake,” he slurred.
She tried to stifle a cough, but it rumbled wetly in her throat and she swallowed back the taste of blood, grimacing. Beside her, Jacen shifted and his fingers tightened on hers as he leaned in supportively. “I could tell you a story,” she began, before a cough interrupted her.
He joggled their joined hands. “No, I’ll tell the stories,” he replied. “Having to talk will keep me awake, and you shouldn’t be talking. Just concentrate on keeping your lungs clear. Chip. You get through yet?” The BB droid rolled closer, chirping. “Well, all we can do is hope someone got the message. Let’s see. About fifty years ago - give or take a decade - there was a young Jedi named… named…” He faltered, but when he felt the Chiss at his side stir, he reined his wandering thoughts in. “No, don’t talk. Named Caleb Dume…”
She had fallen asleep - or unconscious, but he preferred to think the former. She was still alive - he knew that much. Her breath bubbled in her lungs, and he knew she had a pierced lung. He also knew there was a lot more wrong - he could
feel
it. Still, he talked, spinning the tale of his father and how a teenaged Jedi padawan had become a rebel, fallen in love with a spicy twi’lek pilot, and sired a child. He talked for her, to offer an anchor for her subconscious to hold on to; he talked for himself, to keep at bay the sleep which nibbled at the corners of his mind, threatening to pull him under.
He was just searching for the right place to begin the next part of the story when he heard the familiar - and entirely unwelcome - whine of TIE fighter engines in atmosphere.
So
, he thought bleakly, his fingers tightening around Ainyan’s as he turned his blurry gaze on the sky,
this is how it ends. And I never got to say anything.
Closing his eyes, he drew his hand from the Chiss’s, then slid his arm around her shoulders and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. If anyone had told him six months ago that his best friend would end up being the daughter of the man who had killed his father, he’d have laughed - then punched them in the face. But it had taken no time at all for him and Ainyan to discover that they had far more in common than differences. It hadn’t been easy, at first, to look past her distinctive features; he couldn’t pinpoint the moment he’d looked at her and seen
friend
, not
Chiss
. The upshot was, though - she was his friend. His best friend. Pieces of each other that had always been missing, that had taken too long to find each other.
And now, it appeared, they would end things together.
Seems apropos
.
The whine grew closer. Then the world exploded.
I hate the taste of bacta
. She hadn’t even known bacta existed before she’d come to the Resistance - the Ascendancy had other means of healing; not quite so effective, but more readily available in the Unknown Regions. Since coming Coreward, however, she’d found herself subjected to bacta treatments more than once when a mission had resulted in injury.
It still tasted nasty, like overripe fruit - too sweet and just a touch rancid. And from the fact that it lingered in her mouth and nose, she knew that she’d been submerged in a bacta tank.
I did a number on myself this time
, she supposed.
With a wince at the ache of long-dormant muscles, she pushed herself up and glanced down, patting herself gingerly and feeling the faint give of bacta-packs beneath her shirt.
Broken ribs
, she mused, inhaling and feeling the dull ache of healing muscle as her lungs expanded - along with the cloying scent of bacta.
Punctured lung. Scrapes and scratches and slashes. I
did
do a number on myself. What…
?
Exquivior.
“Jacen!” Heedless of her own injuries, she scrambled out of the bed, leaving the blankets to pile on the floor of a lump as she staggered, gathering her bearings and her balance. Before she could lurch towards the door, however, it slid open and she blinked dumbly at the green-skinned twi’lek framed in the opening. “I - General…”
General Hera Syndulla smiled slightly and entered the room, the door sliding shut behind her. “I see he knows you as well as he thinks he does. Jacen is fine,” she added, when the Chiss opened her mouth. “Have a seat.”
Although she hesitated mulishly, in the end, Ainyan hauled herself back up into the med bed, eyeing the twi’lek warily. “Is there something I can do for you, General Syndulla?”
The twi’lek eased down onto the foot of the bed, studying the Chiss in silence for a long while. “When you first became friends with my son, I had misgivings,” Hera finally began, twisting her fingers together on her knee. “I’m ashamed to admit that even now, I have trouble looking past your species to see the kind of person I know you are.”
Ainyan shook her head. “I hardly blame you, General Syndulla,” she protested. “My father was… very candid with me about his actions while he was here. I understand how difficult it must be for you -
particularly
you,” she admitted, “to look upon me with anything other than disgust and distrust.”
Hera sighed. “I still hate to admit it. The Republic, the Rebellion, the Resistance - we’ve always been about acceptance. Where the Empire looks down on those not human, not male, not one of
them
, the Republic and its people have always tried to judge a person on their actions, not their ancestors.” She eyed the Chiss. “And yet here you are, my grown son’s friend - best friend - and all I want to do sometimes is snatch him away and protect him from the big bad Chiss. It’s wrong. You don’t deserve that, especially not after everything you’ve done for him - for us.”
Ainyan gazed helplessly at her. “I don’t know what to say,” she finally admitted. “I can’t change my species, nor would I. I am Chiss.” There was no passion to the statement, but her pride in that fact was naked in her eyes and on her face. “Does it help that I do not blame you for your… difficulty?”
The General smiled, a lopsided curve of her lips. “Not really. It just shows how petty I’m being.” When the pilot winced, she shook her head. “I just want you to know that I appreciate your loyalty to the Resistance, to Phoenix Squadron, and to Jacen. He’s always felt a bit distant from the others - my fault, I know. Mine and his father’s - most people still don’t know how to handle the idea of the Force. Jacen’s abilities with it are minimal, but combined with being General Syndulla’s kid…”
Ainyan shifted uncomfortably. “The Chiss don’t really have much to do with the Force,” she murmured, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know what to make of it, but it’s part of who he is, so I deal with it. There’s a lot more to him than a little mystical… stuff.”
The twi’lek canted her head to the side. “Do you just not train your Force-sensitives, or…” She trailed off, seeing the discomfort in the Chiss’s expression. “You know what, never mind. It’s not important. What is important is that you and Jacen survived and that he’s been very anxious to see you; I just wanted a chance to talk to you first. To let you know that I
am
proud of you, and I
am
grateful that you’re here.”
“I’m grateful that you let me be here,” Ainyan replied, dropping her gaze. “I know you took a big risk on me, and not everyone is thrilled that I’m here - but being able to repay this debt is important to me. Us. And now that I know you - how could I not help?”
Hera watched her. “Why do you say not everyone is thrilled that you’re here?”
The Chiss lifted her eyes, expression wary. “Maybe you have not noticed that only those who have served with me among Phoenix and Defender Squadrons tolerate my presence with any grace. I cannot go into the mess without at least one other person, or I won’t be served, and I don’t even bother with the lounge any more.”
The General’s gaze slid away. “I’ve noticed,” she admitted. “And I’ve tried to reprimand those who are so discourteous, but I’m afraid my own discomfort undermines my authority in this matter. It’s become a bit of a sticking point between me and Jacen.”
“I will speak to him,” Ainyan stated instantly. “He should not let it come between you two - it is not your fault that I am… unwelcome.”
Hera lifted her eyes. “He doesn’t see it that way, and I’m inclined to agree. As above, so below. My subordinates see that I am uncomfortable with you, and it gives them license to treat you as if you are an inconvenience. But you are nothing of the sort, Ufsa’inya’nishar,” she added sharply when the Chiss drew in a breath to speak. “You are a valuable member of Phoenix Squadron, a hero who has saved many of our people. You have done nothing, personally, to earn this animosity and frankly, I’m tired of it. Jacen’s tired of it. I’m certain you are tired of it.”
“So will you tell me why you’re wearing a black armband now, General?” It was not a particularly subtle attempt to change an uncomfortable subject, and Hera was briefly amused; the laughter, however, soon fled her gaze. “Who died?”
Hera reached up, touching the band on her shoulder. “Who died? Why, you did. You and my son died in action on Exquivior.”
Ainyan paced the room while Hera watched her, amused by her agitation. “You know you’re not actually dead - and neither is he. Why are you so disturbed?”
The Chiss paused midstep, staring at the wall. “I… don’t know. I know we’re alive, and yet - I’ve spent too much time lately thinking Jacen was dead and having no proof to the contrary. I think…” She trailed off as the door slid open, whirling about, one hand dropping to her non-existent blaster. Jacen studied her with clear teal eyes as the door shut behind him.
Ignoring his mother, the pilot stepped forward. Ainyan met him halfway, throwing her arms around his neck as he embraced her. “I knew you were alive,” he whispered in her ear as he hugged her close. “I knew they weren’t lying.”
She didn’t know how to handle the tears she could feel lurking just beneath the relief; she had no idea what to do with the pressure in her chest. Part of her wanted to run, to flee, to hide. Part of her wanted to lock her arms and never let go. She rested her forehead against his, eyes closed, and exhaled slowly. “You’ve got to stop doing this to me.”
His breath was warm against her lips as he laughed. “Ditto.” With some reluctance, he pulled away, cupping her waist briefly before releasing her altogether, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So I guess mom’s told you we’re still dead, huh?”
Folding her arms across her chest, cupping her elbows in her hands, Ainyan tore her gaze from him to meet Hera’s speculative green eyes. “Yeah. But not why. I assume it has to do with the fact that we were ambushed.”
Jacen slid onto Ainyan’s bed and patted the mattress next to him. She stared at it, then at him, then gingerly took a seat. Hera shook her head in silence and sighed, then shrugged. “That is precisely the reason why. The truth is, someone was targeting you and your strongest supporters. Jacen, Jorash, and you were all primary targets, although they also went after other members of Phoenix and Defender squadrons as secondary targets. They didn’t get anyone,” she reassured the Chiss, “but not for lack of trying. Honestly, it was dumb luck none of those ambushes worked out quite how they were hoping. On the other hand, we lost seven fighters.” She hesitated, then sighed. “Including your Defender.”
Ainyan dropped her gaze, her fingers fisting on her knee. “I know,” she whispered. “Maybe we could have repaired her in the Ascendancy, but here?” She shook her head. “Did you… please tell me you destroyed her to keep her out of Imperial hands.”
“We have her here.” Ainyan’s head jerked up at Jacen’s quiet response, and he reached out to cover her fisted hand with his own. “They brought her back along with everything salvageable from my E-Wing. We can’t do much for her, but she’s safe.”
It had to be the stress. That’s the only reason Ainyan could think of why her Chiss reserve was strained to its breaking point. Swallowing, she dropped her gaze again. “Thank you,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “So Jacen and I are dead… why? Hoping to flush out the traitor who sold us out?”
Hera spread her hands. “That, and to keep you safe. I don’t think your lives would have been worth an Imperial credit on Ryloth if they’d known you were here and at the mercy of the medics. Even now,” she added, shaking her head to forestall Ainyan’s inevitable argument, “you two still have some healing to do. We don’t have ships for you. And there’s still someone out there who wants you dead. Until we find them, you two are incognito here.”
Ainyan glanced around, studying the room. “We’re not on Lodestar.”
Jacen shook his head, his fingers rubbing hers, and she looked up at him. He gazed into her eyes, seeing the confused uncertainty within their scarlet depths. “Welcome to Lothal, Ain. We’re gonna be here for a little bit.”