Paradise Lost, Part XXXIX

[Sonnenburg]

Paradise Lost, Part XXXIX

Jorri was relieved that Sebastian had pulled off his assignment without a hitch. He'd seemed pleased to be back home, but she was confused by how distant he felt. She'd hoped that bringing Garak in would help him feel like he'd accomplished something, but it only seemed to have driven him further into his shell.

Volgo Terraine was already waiting for them in their quarters, much to Jorri's displeasure. The man made her skin crawl, and something about him always set Bastian on edge. "Congratulations," he remarked. "Although your role in Garak's capture is going to have to be downplayed, rest assured that the citizens of the Empire are pleased."

"What'll happen to him now?" Sebastian asked.

"He'll be put on trial for what he was done," Terraine said. "It's still being decided whether it will be a military tribunal or conducted in the high court on Chandrilla."

"No chance of letting the local authorities try him, huh?" Sebastian said. "Wouldn't want them to have any feeling of sovereignty."

"Garak's crimes reach far beyond the local government," Terraine said evenly. "Regardless, it is out of both of our hands. I have another assignment for you-"

"I just got back," Sebastian said.

"Yes, you did." Terraine's tone managed to imply that awareness of that fact would have as much bearing on this discussion as his boot size. "The Emperor and I are in agreement; only you can perform this particular assignment."

"It will just have to wait," Sebastian replied.

"He thought you might take this approach," Terraine said, reaching into his jacket. Jorri felt Sebastian drop his hand to his saber, but Terraine pulled out a small holo-projector. He placed it on the table as he stood up. "You know where to contact me," he said, then exited.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jorri asked as Sebastian rubbed his chin in thought, his eyes fixed on the projector.

"No," he said, still not looking at her. "I have a bad feeling about this," he added as he switched it on.

The Emperor was seated before them, a small smile set in a grim face. "Hello, Sebastian, and to you too, lieutenant."

Jorri's eyes bugged out and looked at Sebastian, who was looking back with the same expression of shock.

"I realize," the Emperor went on, "that you must think that Terraine is trying to use you, so I want you to understand that this matter is of great importance to all of us. Sebastian, remember what I told you on Earth, about the future? As I've said, I've seen it, which is how I know that when you see this, you will be sitting to the right of your love. Might I add that I'm pleased you didn't allow my news to sway your judgment on that affair."

"What news?" Jorri asked, but Sebastian held up his hand for quiet, entranced.

"I trust you will see that this is not an attempt at deception," the Emperor continued. "And I want you to know, Sebastian, that I would not ask what I'm about to if there were any other way, or if I wasn't certain you were up to it. Thanks to your mother's efforts, we've learned the source of the Vong's ultimate weapon."

Jorri listened in disbelief as he described the origin of the infamous Yun-Yammka and its tie to the yammosk. At the mention of the creature she felt Sebastian stiffen, but she squeezed his hand to provide some comfort.

"The Vong attack is imminent," the Emperor said, "and with the Yun-Yammka and the war coordination I do not believe we can resist them. There is only one way to give us a chance of overcoming the Vong, the yammosk must be destroyed. Unfortunately, the presence of the Yun-Yammka makes any conventional attack impossible without seriously thinning our numbers at the front. However, we can slip a small fighter past their defense and transport someone into the Vong base."

Jorri wasn't sure who was gripping whom harder. They can't ask him to do this! she thought.

"You're the only person left who has escaped the Vong," the Emperor said. "You have an intimate understanding of them. You are the ideal candidate, except for one obvious problem. You can say no, Sebastian; there are other Jedi. But, you do have an edge over them. You can turn what the Vong did to you against them. The choice is yours; I hope it is a wise one." The hologram blinked off.

"Forget it," Jorri said firmly. "They can't expect you to face that thing again." Sebastian was silent, still staring at the projector. "Somebody else can do it."

"'Destiny will call you,'" Sebastian said, quoting his father. "'Be strong.'"

"Bastian," Jorri said, forcing him to look at her, "you don't have to do this."

"There's no choice, Jorri."

"That's a crock, Bastian!" she shouted. "You don't have to be some kind of savior just because people tell you you are! Make your own choices."

"I never asked for any of this," he agreed, but she could hear the agony in his voice. "I never asked to be a Jedi or a Borg; those choices were made for me by circumstance, but they make me what I am." Jorri embraced him tightly. Quietly, almost a whisper, she heard him. She recognized from her Terran Literature course at the Academy; it was from the most famous work of John Milton. "'Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay to mould me Man? Did I solicit thee from darkness to promote me?'"

"Whatever brought you here," Jorri said, "the choice is yours. Make the one you want to make, not the one you think everyone wants you to make."

****************************

The guards on the engineering deck of the station looked up in surprise as the turbolift doors opened. Their weapons were out and pointed as a group of Breen stumbled out. "This is a restricted area," the sergeant said with irritation. He'd been telling them to get those damn turbolifts fixed for a week, but all the repair crews had been assigned to repairing Calrissian's bar.

The Breen answered with a static-like response. The sergeant glowered at it. "Your translator is malfunctioning. Now get off this deck, and head someone else... preferably to someplace where they teach Basic."

The Breen continued trying to argue, but was pushed aside by the one behind him. The Imperials managed to get a shot off, but the suddenness of the attack had caught them unprepared. The Breen slung their blaster rifles as the guards slumped to the floor, stepping over the fresh corpses to look over the controls. It looked like they were safe so far. The lead pointed down the corridors, and two Breen began firing gas grenades. As gas poured into the rooms the others swept in, blasting any of the personnel who were trying to find the alarm or a mask.

As the last slipped into unconsciousness, the lead Breen pointed back they way they came. One left and began welding the lift door shut while two more began laying booby traps along the hall. The rest released a chemical spray to dissipate the gas. As quickly as it had come, the room was cleared of the anesthetic. The lead Breen pulled his helmet off.

"Okay," Lando said, tossing the helmet aside. "Let's get to work on this reactor."

****************************

It felt like an eternity as Sebastian waited for the communicators to connect him with the Falcon, and all it did was make him more torn on what to do. Thankfully the familiar image appeared on the screen. "Sebastian," Annika said with a smile, "I've been wondering what you've been up to. You never call your mother."

"Yeah yeah yeah," he said, "I'm the neglectful son. Just wait 'til I put you in a home."

"I don't need a home. All I ask is that you wheel me in off the porch when it starts to rain."

He chuckled a little, but it wasn't easy. "Mom, I've got a bit of a dilemma."

"What about?"

"It has to do with, well, with what I'm doing with myself, with my responsibilities." He tried to think how to broach the subject. "The Emperor has an assignment for me, and I'm not sure if I should do it."

"What's the assignment?" she asked.

"They haven't said exactly," Sebastian lied. He didn't want her overprotectiveness to cloud her judgment. "I'm just trying to decide if this is what I should do."

"Whether you're obligated, you mean?" Annika said with a small smile.

"Sort of."

"You're not," Annika said firmly. "Unless you caused whatever they want you to fix, or promised that you would, then you're not obligated. I know you took that whole Jedi oath thing... I guess I still don't know what that was about. You'll have to decide what that means for yourself."

"That's the problem," Sebastian started, but then paused. Did he cause the problem? After all, if he hadn't been at the original Vong base, the Empire could have stopped this whole thing before it started... Or maybe not, considering the Yun-Yammka, and whether they would have even known about it if he hadn't been there in the first place. Great, he thought, instead of clearing things up, they're even murkier than they started.

"Ask yourself this, Bastian," she said, "is this something that needs to be done?"

"Yes."

"Are there other people that can do it better?"

"Maybe," Sebastian said. "On the one hand, I have the best chance, but on the other..."

"You're not sure you'll be able to do it?" Annika asked eventually.

"Yes," he admitted weakly.

"Well, only you know what you can do. I believe that you can overcome anything if you'll try; you've come so far already. But if you don't think you can, don't believe you can, then maybe you should reconsider."

"But father wouldn't back down," Sebastian pointed out. "Now matter how hopeless-"

“Okay,” Annika said sternly, “that’s the problem. You are trying to measure yourself against your father’s accomplishments.”

“And you’re saying I should accept not being him,” Sebastian said. “I know, I know-“

“That’s not it. Sebastian, when your father was your age, he wasn’t even a Jedi yet. He hadn’t learned patience or prudence, hadn’t realized that he still had a long way to go.” She stopped for a moment, and even across the distance he could sense grief at the mention of him. “Your father accomplished some amazing things in his life, and you should be proud to be his son. But don’t feel you have to compare yourself to him; you’re not him.”

“But my point is, he wouldn’t back down from this. He didn’t back down from trying to find the Vong, despite the odds.”

“That was different.”

“How, exactly?” he demanded.

Annika thought about it, then began reciting a poem:

"’Have you heard of a story that gossips tell

Of Burns of Gettysburg? No? Ah, well:

Brief is the glory that hero earns,

Briefer the story of poor John Burns:

He was the fellow who won reknown,--

The only man who didn't back down

When the rebels rode through his native town;

But held his own in the fight next day,

When all his townsfolk ran away.

That was in July, sixty-three,--

The very day that General Lee,

Flower of Southern chivalry,

Baffled and beaten, backward reeled

From a stubborn Meade and a barren field.’"

"Queer rhythm," was all Sebastian could remark.

"I think it's catchy," Annika remarked, then turned slightly introspective. "I never told you the story of Burns, did I? So much history throughout the galaxies, it's hard to squeeze it all in."

"How many books can you fill with the names of all the generals who seemed so important in the moment," Sebastian wondered aloud, "and who are now forgotten to all but a few dusty old scholars? Present company included," he added with a grin.

"Well, before you write this dusty old scholar off, let me tell you that you are wrong. Burns wasn't a general, and he wasn't a soldier."

"Then why is there a poem about him and the battle?"

"Because this dusty old man, seventy years old in a time when advanced medicine was hacking off a limb, walked out and joined the Wisconsin regiment who had just arrived there to defend Gettysburg against the rebel forces." She shook her head with a smile. "They must have thought he was crazy. Veteran of a war half a century ago, carrying an old musket into battle, he must have been quite a sight. What could this one man hope to accomplish for the battle or the country?"

"But he helped turn the tide and win the day," Sebastian finished.

Annika grinned. "Wrong again. He was wounded several times and left behind when his group was forced to retreat... but he survived. But it wasn't about that, Bastian. He wasn't expecting to perform a miracle, and he didn't act out of obligation to a cause or ideal. What it came down to was the simple fact that these rebels wanted to take his home, and there was no way in hell this old man was going to let them do it without a fight."

Sebastian nodded a little. "No matter what anyone else said. Not even his own family.” He laughed a little. "Stubborn old bastard."

"No," Annika said, chuckling at the memories. "He was always willing to find the middle ground, always willing to sacrifice for the peace. But he was always ready to stand firm when the situation demanded... I swear he was a bottomless source of strength."

"So if father were here-"

"If your father were here, he'd do what he'd do," Annika said. "But you're not him, and you shouldn't try to be. No poems were written about those young boys from Wisconsin, but were they any less brave to stand on that field with John Burns? Or their wives back home who stepped up and did what needed to be done despite being the 'weaker' sex? What they have is the pride of knowing that they were doing what their hearts told them needed to be done, and that's the kind of hero your father was. So if you want to be like him, then be willing to not be like him."

"Catch-22?"

"Catch-22."

****************************

Col. Renal looked up with irritation as the aide rushed into his office. "This had better be good," he said through his teeth. "I was just sending a report to the general on the status of our prisoner." Renal had been called on the carpet for the mess with the shape-shifter, and now that O'Brien girl was his only real shot at salvaging his reputation.

"Sir, there's a problem with the reactor," the aide said quickly. "It looks like sabotage."

"Have they cut the power?" the colonel replied.

"No, they seem to be trying to cause an overload. We've tried overriding it, but it looks like they've physically cut the connection."

He thumped his fist on the desk. This assignment was the black hole from which his career would never escape. "Send down two platoons; I want them dead!"

"Yes, sir," the aide said as he stepped aside, giving the order. "Frankly, sir,” he continued, “we may not have that much time."

"If that damn Section 31 wants to kill everyone on the station, let them," he snapped. He flopped back in his chair, infuriated at this turn of events. But as the seconds pressed on, his conscience got the better of him. He may be corrupt and self-centered, but he wasn't a monster. "Order an evacuation," he said, "just to be on the safe side. And I want that prisoner escorted under heavy guard; nothing short of a juggernaut is going to take her out of our hands, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," the aide said, turning and exiting the room. Moments later across the station claxons began sounding, and a calm but serious voice ordered all people to abandon the station.

Ben Skywalker looked up with a grin and took another sip of his drink. This was going to be fun.

****************************

Sebastian was sitting alone in the dark when Jorri returned from her assignment. When the lights came up she noticed he'd traded his combat suit for his Jedi robes; she had an inkling of what that meant.

"I've decided to try," he said, not looking at her.

Jorri came over and sat down next to him, trying to think of what she could say. All that came out was the one thought that dominated her mind. "Why?"

When Sebastian spoke, it was filled with both resignation and conviction. "This whole thing is partly my fault. Father had a choice: to wait for the Empire to attack, or to rescue me first. He chose me, and because of that we're now in this mess. I have to make this right." He sighed. "And then I think of all those people back in the DMZ who died because of my mistake-"

"Bastian," Jorri said, "you've got to stop beating yourself up over that."

"I think about all the people that could die if the Vong aren't stopped," Sebastian continued. "I can save them, Jorri; I can try to make up for that mistake."

"Bastian," Jorri said, trying not to cry, "I believe you're strong, but I - I can't forget what they did to you. I don't want them to take you away from me again."

"I know," he said, his voice hollow. "That's why I want you as my pilot."

Jorri was taken aback. "What?"

"I want you to pilot the ship," he said. "You always were a better pilot than me, anyway."

"I'm not so sure of that."

"Don't kid me, Jorri. I've got the Force, but you've got talent and practice. You can do this. And, if I know you're there, if I know that you're waiting for me on that ship, then I think I can do this."

Jorri held him tight. "I'll go anywhere with you. Just promise me you'll be coming back."

"You know I will," he said. When the embrace broke Jorri went to the bedroom to start packing; it gave her something to do to keep her mind off what was about to happen. A few minutes later Sebastian entered. "It's all set. Took a little convincing, but he's arranged a temporary reassignment for you to carry out this mission."

"Already?" she said with disappointment. "I thought we'd have a little time."

"No, we don't. The Vong are ready to take the fight to us." Sebastian picked up his lightsaber, looked at it carefully, and attached it to his belt. "And I'm not going to stand here and wait."

[Singular Quartet]

Very nice, Sonnenburg. Keep up the excellent work.

[Daltonator]

Excellent as usual, Chuck.

[2000AD]

Woah! He writes fast AND writes good!

[Daltonator]

Woah! He writes fast AND writes good!

Chuck's been incommunicado for several months, and like a good author he came back with plenty of goodies for his audience

[Sonnenburg]

Thanks guys, I'm glad you're still sticking with me.
The last chapter is in the works, and like Dalton said, I'm trying to make up for lost time here. Hopefully before the week is out it'll be done; we'll have to see what happens.