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Sweet Sixteen, Chapter 18

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Chapter 18: Krem in the Box


Seth’s shoulder still ached, but the kolto within the medpac had done a fantastic job of healing the muscle and tissue, and aside from some slight bruising and charring on his skin, almost all evidence of Calo’s blaster shot had faded away. Seth glanced through a window out into the vast expanse of ocean surrounding the Hrakrt Rift station. He didn’t know exactly how the kolto out there grew or was harvested or even how it worked, but he was experiencing firsthand its importance to the war effort.

 

As the party trudged through the humid facility, they began to realize that they were hardly closer to getting the Star Map than when they had been while on the surface. If the map really was on the ocean floor as Seth and Bastila had seen in their vision – and he believed it was – they needed to find a way to extend their search beyond the confined space of the Hrakrt rift station.

 

He could tell Bastila was thinking along those same lines, as he watched her nose scrunch up and her fingers drum impatiently against the hilt of her lightsaber at the lack of progress the team was making. It was Canderous, however, that spoke the words everyone was thinking after a torturously long venture through the quiet facility hallways. “Any of you know where we’re going? Because it sure as hell feels like we’re all wandering aimlessly.” He stepped over a Selkath corpse as he spoke. They’d come across quite a few of the indigenous species facedown and cold on the durasteel flooring of the facility, and Seth suspected that Nord and his crew purged the back half of the station of the crazed Selkath before meeting the crew of the Ebon Hawk.

 

Bastila threw her hands exasperatedly in the air at the Mandalorian’s remark. “Well, what do you, suggest, Canderous? Because quite frankly unless you know how to hold your breath for minutes at a time we can’t exactly throw anyone out the airlock and hope they survive the firaxa long enough to find and open the Star Map.”

 

“Princess, there are multiple sections of this facility, if the researchers had a way to get from one to the other without swimming blindly from one airlock to the next, there has to be one.”

 

Seth hesitated before speaking. He was positive that no Jedi master would ever approve of his line of thought, but deep down he was always entertained by the arguments that tended to take place between the Mandalorian and lady Jedi and had no desire to stop them now. He pushed back the thoughts of twisted enjoyment for a moment, however, to interrupt them. “I know that the Selkath have no problem breathing underwater, but they were working with Republic scientists down here. I bet they have envirosuits somewhere.”

 

“Let’s not forget, however, that the Selkath scientists outnumbered those of the Republic five to one,” Bastila mentioned. “There weren’t many human scientists to begin with, and those who were down there seem to have fled to one of the more sealed off parts of the facility. The only non-Selkath corpses I’ve seen around here seem to be those of the mercenaries. In that case, they would have taken their envirosuits with them.”

 

“So you’re saying we’re stuck?” Canderous deadpanned.

 

“I’m saying that we need to examine our options,” Bastila shot back.

 

“Princess, if we had a lot of options, we wouldn’t have been wandering about for the past half hour!”

 

“Oh, shut up!” Mission intervened, speaking up for the first time since her post-battle outburst at Seth. “Canderous, your negativity is getting us nowhere, and Bastila, your indecisiveness about the matter isn’t either. We came this far, and we can’t afford to give up on this Star Map when the fate of the galaxy hangs in the balance. I refuse to believe this is a dead end, so let’s figure something out and act like the team the Jedi Council believed we were when they sent us out on this mission.”

 

Seth’s eyebrows rose a bit in admiration, and both Canderous and Bastila silenced themselves to look at the girl. He wondered, for a moment, how differently things would be running if she had been the Force-sensitive teen as opposed to him – If Mission were the one with the visions and the explosive destiny and the one thrust into a role of leadership. She was far more equipped to lead, in Seth’s opinion, than he was. Mission was far more logical, tactful, and inspiring, and Seth knew that if she were in charge he would follow her to the ends of the galaxy.

 

Then again, perhaps he already would.

 

Canderous sighed, running a hand through his short graying hair. “I’m sorry kid. I don’t really believe we’re at a dead end, our lack of progress is just frustrating.”

 

“I apologize as well Mission,” Bastila admitted, seeming just a bit defeated in doing so. “Talking about this will only get us so far, let’s decide on a course of action.”

 

It was then that they heard a soft whimper from the corner of the room, and once again the party fell silent and four heads snapped toward the direction of the sound. Seth suddenly became aware of his deactivated lightsaber held at the ready tightly in his palm. He wasn’t sure at which point the weapon had moved from the secure fastenings of his belt and into his gloved hand, but Bastila hastily beckoned for him to place it back where it belonged.

 

“Hello?” the female Jedi called out hesitantly. Who’s there?

 

This time, as the whimpering got louder, Seth realized the noise was fairly human, and coming from a storage locker in the corner of the room. “You… you don’t sound like fishies,” a weak male voice stuttered.

 

“We’re…not,” Bastila said slowly, as she made the connection between this stranger’s ‘fishies’ and the Selkath in her mind. “We’re human, we’re with the Republic. We were sent down here to find out what happened to the scientists.”

 

“The Republic? They’re sending more down here? No, no, no, nonononono!” the stranger shrieked. “The fishies have gone crazy. They killed everyone. They’re going to kill you too. Not me, I’m safe in my box.”

 

Bastila exchanged a bewildered glance with Seth, and opened her mouth to speak again, although Seth was sure she didn’t quite know how to respond. “The Selkath…” she stopped herself for a moment to correct herself, “…fishies…are dead. They aren’t a threat anymore. Why don’t you come out of there and we can talk about what happened here?”

 

“No, no,” the stranger replied adamantly. “Could be a fishy trick. I will stay in my box. Safe and sound.”

 

“Just ask him what happened to the other scientists,” Canderous said to Bastila.

 

“Who’s there?!” the stranger yelped at the sound of the Mandalorian’s voice.

 

“He’s my friend,” Bastila cooed soothingly whilst glaring at Canderous. The sweet tone of her voice and the contrasting look of murderous intent on her face were rather humorous to Seth, and he bit back a snort of amusement. Bastila cast him a look, then turned the same gaze on Mission, a very firm, wordless command to keep silent. “We just want to know what happened to the Republic scientists.”

 

“They ran away. Tried to get to the airlock but the fishies ate them. Bit holes in their suits and only Kono and Sami got away. Everyone else…” the man broke down with a sob. “I ran to my box. They didn’t get me. They won’t get me.”

 

“Kono and Sami? Where did they go?”

 

“They won’t get me,” the man was still mumbling, sniffling.

 

Bastila allowed her voice to drop into a sterner tone. “Where are Kono and Sami?”

 

The man in the locker sniffled. “Gone, gone, gone…”

 

Seth noticed Bastila’s knuckles turn white as she clenched her fists in her deepest efforts to remain patiently calm. “Do you know where they were going?”

 

“They went to the other side of the facility. By the alien structure and the new harvester. But nobody makes it past the sharks.”

 

Seth looked up at Bastila, wondering if she’d made the connection between “alien structure” and the Star Map as well. One slight nod of her head said that she did. She took a deep breath before speaking again. “Do you know if any suits remain undamaged?”

 

“Mine. Mine does. It’s never left my box. New, shiny, shiny, shiny…”

 

“Your suit is in there with you?”

 

“Yep. No fishies to bite holes in it here. Nope, nope, nope!”

 

Bastila exchanged a glance with the others momentarily before turning back to the faceless locker. “What did you say your name was again?”

 

“Krem. It says so on my box, but on the inside! You can’t see it.”

 

“So it would seem,” Bastila said, a hint of irritation edging in her voice. “Krem, we need to use your suit, could you please open the locker?”

 

“You want to go out there?!” Krem shrieked hysterically. “No, no, no, we can’t go out there! I can’t open my box, I’m safe! I’m safe!”

 

“Shh, shh,” Bastila hushed him slowly, applying pressure to the traumatized man’s mind through the Force. “You will be safe when you open your box.”

 

Krem’s whimpers fell silent. Seth reached out through his bond with Bastila to increase the persuasion she was applying through the Force. She nodded her thanks, then turned back to the locker. “Krem, you want to help us.”

 

For a moment, only Krem’s heavy breathing could be heard, before the locker rattled a bit. It creaked open on poorly oiled hinges, and the man hunched back into the corner of the locker, shying away from the Jedi. “There are more!” he whimpered. “I want to be back in my box!”

 

“Krem,” Bastila’s voice was barely above a whisper, her tone soft and gentle. “Krem, please. Just give us your suit, and you can go back in your box. We won’t bother you anymore.”

 

A booted foot kicked the envirosuit from the locker, its yellow-shelled pieces coming out one at a time. “Okay,” Krem said shakily. “That’s my whole suit. Can you shut the door now?”

 

“Yes, we can,” Bastila said softly. “Thank you, Krem. Our Republic friends will be down here soon to rescue you. The station is safe now.”

 

“I said close the door please!” Krem shouted, frantic. Bastila obliged, closing the door quietly. Seth felt a twinge of sadness in her heart through their bond, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

 

“Republic Medical Service can give him a psych eval,” he said softly. “They’ll treat him.” Bastila merely nodded as she picked up the chest piece of the envirosuit, looking it over.

 

“Well,” she said finally, with a sigh, setting down the chest piece and picking up the helmet. “It looks like this suit needs to fit the wearer like a glove, or it’s susceptible to compromise.”

 

“Meaning what, exactly?” Canderous asked, folding his arms.

 

She sighed. “The wearer has to be the same size and build as Krem, Or you’ll be swimming inside the suit the moment you step outside. Which means the helmet will never fit over Mission’s lekku, and you’re far too built, Canderous.” Bastila turned to Seth, “and I’m not quite built enough to match a man’s build.” She extended the helmet to the younger Jedi.

 

Seth took the helmet with a gloved hand, goosebumps prickling his skin as he grasped what Bastila was implying. He glanced over at Mission, whose lips were pursed concernedly, before glancing back the lady Jedi.

 

“Good luck,” she said with a sigh. “The mission is yours now, Seth.”

 

 

 

A million thoughts coursed through Mission’s mind as she double checked the fastenings on Seth’s envirosuit, making sure that everything was sealed tight. Her hands were steady, but inside she was shaking, terrified for reasons beyond her comprehension. She had faced the very real threat of losing Seth, or Zalbaar, or Canderous, or any of her friends almost daily. But in her mind, that threat seemed so improbable, so unlikely, that she rarely paid attention to it. Somehow, while sealing Seth up inside a suit that would be the single layer of protection between life and death outside of the airlock they now stood before, that threat’s reality was hitting her like a ton of bricks. There were no certainties about probabilities. They had made it through everything the galaxy had thrown at them so far, but that came with no guarantee for future survival. Mission ran her fingers along the suit’s seals once again, the probabilities shaking her to her very core as she drew in shaky breaths.

 

“Mish,” Seth said quietly, catching her wrist with a suited hand. The metal felt cold and unfamiliar against her skin, and Mission found herself wishing for the warm, calloused touch of his fingertips instead. “I think they’re good.”

 

“Can’t be too careful,” she said, avoiding eye contact. She was on the verge of a panic attack, she felt, and if anything could send her over the edge, it was those green eyes.

 

“It sounds as if this ‘Kono’ and this ‘Sami’ are the only remaining scientists left alive on this station,” Bastila told him, putting a hand on his upper arm in an uncharacteristic display of caring nature. “They may be the only ones able to point us in the direction of the Star Map. Find them, find the map, and get back here.” She let the ghost of a smile play across her features. “And that’s an order, Private.”

 

Seth smiled back, chuckling a bit. “I thought I didn’t take orders from you anymore, ma’am.”

 

“This one,” she said, removing her hand from his arm and smiling warmly. “This one, you’re taking from me. And following.”

 

He saluted, and for a moment Mission was reminded of the rigidly respectful soldier she’d met on Taris. Oh, how things had changed in just a few months – it seemed like a lifetime ago. And perhaps it was. They had both changed so much, grown up so fast. Mission was sure that their ages hardly reflected their maturity at this point, and even she could scarcely believe she was only fifteen, almost sixteen.

 

“Good luck, kid,” Canderous clapped him on the back. That was about as affectionate as the Mandalorian could get.

 

Seth nodded, preparing to put his helmet on before stepping out the airlock. Mission stopped him, however, putting a hand on his forearm and pulling the helmet back down, away from his face. He glanced at her, and her heart began to beat frantically as she looked into those green eyes. “We still have a lot to talk about,” she said quietly. “And I’m not sure where we’re at. Just… promise me we’ll get to talk about that. Okay?”

 

“We’ll talk about it, Mish,” he said solemnly. “I promise.”

 

“Okay,” she said. “Good.” She pulled her hand away from his arm slowly, still feeling that fear that what she’d said wasn’t enough. If he left…

 

“Not in front of Bastila, Mission Vao,” she thought to herself before she allowed the compulsion to formulate in her mind any further.

 

Seth drew his arm away from her as well, and her inner voice argued, “Like it or not, you never know when it could be the last time.”

 

And that voice won. In a battle between head and heart, Mission pushed aside all rational thought, grabbed Seth by the front of his envirosuit, and yanked him towards her, her lips connecting earnestly and pleadingly and fleetingly with his. Seth’s eyebrows rose in shock as they pulled apart, and Mission’s cheeks burned red.

 

“Get that Star Map, and come back,” she said. He nodded, touching her chin gently before pulling the helmet over his head, sealing it with a hiss.

 

“I will,” he said, voice distorted by the helmet’s vocoder.

 

“I’m still mad at you, by the way,” she told him, smiling despite herself.

 

“We’ll sort that out when I get back.” And with that, Seth stepped outside the airlock, blast doors closing behind him.

 

Mission glanced at Bastila, wincing at the thousands of potential reactions she might have to Seth and Mission’s display of affection. The lady Jedi, to Mission’s surprise, simply shrugged.

 

“You’re not mad?” the twi’lek asked, frowning.

 

Bastila shook her head. “It’s not like you two have hidden anything from me. I’ve known of your…complicated, to say the least, relationship with Seth since Taris, Mission. And although I think it’s foolish, sometimes he needs a little more motivation than I can give.”

 

“But isn’t that…against the rules?”

 

Bastila smiled. “Of course it is, that’s why I think it’s foolish. But I’m a Padawan just as he is. I cannot enforce the rules on him any more than he can enforce the rules on me. What am I going to do, turn him in to the council? As much as I agree with the teachings of the Jedi, the galaxy needs Seth at his best more than it needs him to follow the rules.”

 

“Oh,” Mission said. “If I had known it were that easy…” she trailed off slowly. “Well, we’re in a fight. Just so you know.”

 

Bastila glanced at the girl sidelong.

 

“Right,” the twi’lek said quickly. “You don’t… I shouldn’t…” She could feel her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. “So we just wait here for Seth to get back?”

 

“Yep,” Canderous said. “And you just made it awkward, kid.”

 

Mission sighed. She counted the situation off as one of the many items on a growing list of reasons she wanted Seth to return as soon as possible.

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