Private Last Transmission

[Sophelia Ardemark]

Jackson Lesan

"Pirates! Dank FERIK!" The pilot cursed as Soph stood near the cockpit. White-knuckle grip on the back of one of the seats of their small transport. She and another padawan she'd just met, Jackson Lesan were supposed to be doing an 'easy' job of guard-duty for one Senator Dominic Praxon 's aide. She had some intel she was bringing back to the Senator. They were in High Republic space. Soph had to wonder if it was coincidence or what intel Itz Faeron had. And what would a Senator want to know if it drew the attention of pirates?

The ship jerked starboard and Soph's shoulder jarred against the bulkhead.

"RETURN TO YOUR SEATS AND STRAP IN!"

Soph's stomach plummeted as she looked back at Itz. The young woman remained composed. Hands in her lap. Soph noticed they were clenched tightly. Soph stumbled back to her seat across from the aide as the ship lurched again.

Oh no.

Soph felt sick flying on good, fair weather days.

She was going to be sick.

 

[Jackson Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Sophelia Ardemark

Jackson had been promised an easy assignment.

He was supposed to guard the aide, ride along, and make sure Itz Faeron reached Senator Praxon with whatever information she carried. Nobody had said anything about getting shot at by pirates somewhere over High Republic space.

The first impact threw Jackson hard enough against the restraint that his shoulder protested. His hand immediately found the buckle, and his fingers were already working to release it before the pilot shouted for everyone to stay seated.

"Yeah, that's probably not happening."

Another violent correction from the transport made him reconsider just long enough to tighten the harness instead. Jackson hated sitting still when something was wrong because it felt too much like choosing not to help. Somewhere along the way, that instinct had become tangled with his temper until the two were almost impossible to separate. Whenever someone threatened people who had done nothing to deserve it, every part of him wanted to answer the problem personally.

His eyes shifted toward Itz. She looked calm at first glance, but the tension in her clenched hands gave her away. Jackson's jaw tightened as he studied her. Pirates were one thing, but pirates chasing a senatorial aide who was carrying intelligence were something else entirely. Whatever Itz had, someone apparently wanted it badly enough to attack a Republic transport for it, and Jackson did not like what that suggested.

He liked even less that they were being forced to run. For half a second, the old answer came easily to him. He could get to the cockpit, find out where the attacking ships were, and make the pilot open the ramp if he had to. Jackson Lesan could accomplish a surprising number of stupid things with a lightsaber and enough determination.

Romi would have hated every single one of them.

The thought arrived quietly, and it no longer carried the same sharp ache that it once had. Jackson exhaled through his nose and leaned his head back against the seat. He still missed her, even if the grief had begun to change. Some days, her absence felt smaller and easier to carry. On other days, something would happen and his first instinct was still to look for her, expecting the correction, the advice, or that particular expression she wore whenever he was about to do something spectacularly unnecessary.

He could almost imagine her telling him to think first.

"Yeah, yeah," Jackson muttered.

He was not sure whether he was answering the memory or himself.

His attention shifted when he noticed Soph. She looked considerably less composed than the aide, and Jackson studied her for a moment before one corner of his mouth twitched.

"You look terrible."

He grimaced almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

"I mean, you're gonna be fine."

That correction was not much better, and Jackson knew it.

The transport lurched again, and his hand shot out to brace against the seat beside him. His irritation returned just as quickly. Whoever was out there had decided that whatever Itz knew mattered more than the lives aboard this ship, and Jackson could not tolerate that kind of choice.

He looked toward the cockpit and raised his voice enough for the pilot to hear him. "Can we outrun them?"

Then he looked back toward Itz.

"And before anybody tells me that's classified, now would be a really good time to mention if these pirates know exactly who they're shooting at."

His fingers settled against the lightsaber at his side, although he did not draw it. He glanced at Soph again and caught the tension in her face.

"If you throw up, aim away from me. Seriously."

The ship shook beneath another impact, and the humor disappeared from Jackson's expression. He had been told this was supposed to be an easy assignment, and he was beginning to think somebody had a very different definition of easy.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

She could only offer a rude Tapani gesture to Jackson Lesan as he commented about her appearance. Of all things? Hands fumbled as she strapped herself into the crash-webbing. Before she promptly grabbed an airsick bag and vomited inside it with a heave or two.

How undignified.

A shudder went through her body even as she felt momentarily better.

"Kid - if we could outrun 'em, we already would've have!" The co-pilot yelled back to the other padawan. Soph managed to roll her eyes at him as if to say. Duh.

Azure gaze tracked the way his hand fidgeted over his lightsaber.

Itz did not offer either of the padawans a response. Instead, facing forward with lips pressed thinly together. The woman unclasped her hands to take out her comm. Typing furiously away. Soph did not like the look of that. A silent exchange with Jackson.

Another lurch and her eyes snapped back to the window. There was a flash of red and the world imploded outside as their shield failed on the portside. Smoke poured from one of the engines, the wing gone. Her eyes widened at the damage outside. And then they began to plumet downard. She heard the frantic calls of the pilots on the cabin.

"Maydaymayday. Bravo-Alpha-two-six-one going down. I repeat..." Soph looked at the aide and at Jackson. Even as that world below them began to get bigger and bigger outside their windows. The mottled greens quickly coming into sharp focus as they went downard. "Protect her!" She yelled. A force bubble slowly forming outward just as -

WHACK.

Something heavy rammed into the back of her head and she was met with blackness.

 

[Jackson Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Sophelia Ardemark

Jackson caught Sophelia's gesture and would have laughed if she had not immediately proven his warning painfully necessary.

"That is disgusting."

The co-pilot's answer wiped the amusement from his face just as quickly. Jackson looked toward the cockpit with irritation already rising in his chest, but he bit down on the first response that came to mind. The pilot was right. If the transport could have escaped, they would not still be taking fire.

His attention returned to Itz when she pulled out the comm. Jackson did not miss the silence. He did not miss the speed of her fingers either. Something about that bothered him more than the lack of an answer.

He glanced toward Sophelia and caught the same concern in her expression. Whatever Itz knew, she clearly intended to do something with it before their attackers could stop her. Jackson wanted to ask what she was sending and who was receiving it, but the red flash outside the viewport swallowed the question before he could give it voice.

The impact threw him hard against the crash webbing.

Jackson heard the shield warning. He saw the smoke. Then he watched part of the transport disappear.

His stomach dropped as the ship followed it.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

The ground rushed toward them faster with every passing second. Jackson could hear the pilots shouting their distress call from the cockpit, but his attention shifted immediately when Sophelia yelled for him to protect Itz.

Then Sophelia went down.

Jackson's temper surged so quickly that heat seemed to crawl beneath his skin. His hand closed around his lightsaber out of instinct, even though there was nobody aboard the transport for him to fight. The pirates were still somewhere above them, safely removed from the consequences of what they had done, while everyone aboard this ship was about to pay for it.

He wanted to hurt them.

The feeling came sharp enough that Jackson recognized it for what it was.

Romi would have recognized it too.

That thought stopped him before anger could become useless action. Jackson released the lightsaber and forced himself to look at what was actually in front of him. Sophelia was down. Itz needed protection. The pilots were trying to keep the remains of the ship under control, and the ground was getting very close.

Jackson reached toward the Force instead.

He planted both feet as firmly as the plunging transport allowed and pushed his awareness outward. Sophelia had already begun forming a protective barrier before she was struck, and Jackson poured himself into reinforcing the space around Itz and the fallen Padawan. He did not know how much of the crash he could absorb, but he knew exactly how much effort he was willing to give.

All of it.

"Stay down!" Jackson shouted toward Itz. "Keep your head covered!"

The hull groaned around them as the transport tore through the atmosphere. Jackson felt every violent correction through the deck beneath his boots. His arms trembled while he held the Force around them, and anger continued to burn underneath his concentration.

Someone had decided that killing an aide, two Padawans, and a flight crew was an acceptable price for whatever information Itz carried.

Jackson could think about that later.

He could be angry later.

Right now, people needed him.

Jackson lowered his center of gravity and poured more of himself into the barrier as the trees raced toward them.

"Come on," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Come on."

Whatever happened when they hit the ground, Jackson intended to make sure that somebody walked away from it.

The first treetops vanished beneath the nose of the transport, and then everything happened at once. Jackson felt the hull buckle around them as something beneath the ship struck with enough force to drive him against the restraints, but he refused to let the barrier collapse. Metal screamed, the cabin twisted violently, and the world outside became a blur of earth, shattered branches, and torn vegetation as the transport carved its way across the ground. Jackson gritted his teeth and held on to the Force while one final, brutal impact sent a deafening concussion through the cabin and brought their descent to an abrupt stop.