“Problems.” His voice rumbled over the word.
It would appear that John, at some point, had finally grasped the full meaning of the word. It chipped away some of the worry he carried with him. Not a fretting mother’s worry, but the disdainful concern one had over someone else’s stupidity. He let the word and its connotations roll about in his mind, the likely possibilities giving the thoughts an air of distaste that showed in his deepening frown. He had steepled his digits against one another and was flexing them with a measure of impatience for what such thoughts would mean. He brought his eyes to bear on the screen again, one corner of his mouth twitching to betray the frown at the sight of John’s expression that told he really got just what the Felacatian had meant that time, some time ago, when he had given that warning. He knew better now than to brush things off when it concerned Mara. And secretly, there were other reasons why looking at John Glayde… that didn’t apply here.
“Your timing is convenient, Glayde. Fortunately for you, it would only be inconvenient if I gave a frell about leave.”
His voice was tense and he had to draw in a deep breath. He wasn’t angry. Not about that. About the other thing. Her. Anyone who knew Meeristali Peradun well enough knew he was disposed to workaholism. Anyone who attempted to convince him to be otherwise were, at the least, ignored. He let out the breath in a slow stream.
“I will delay my original plans to come and ‘lend a hand’.” A bare smile bared teeth, in the slightest. “I depart in the morning. Expect my arrival in the next forty-eight hours. I look forward to your company again, John Glayde.”
He cut the communication off. Goodbyes were not his thing.
-------------------
Rebel Base - Location Undisclosed - Two Days Later (1100 hrs)
After gaining landing permissions, finding that they had been expecting his arrival, Meeristali brought himself in for landing. The X-Wing came in, swiftly lowering onto its struts on the spaceport tarmac. As soon as it was settled and the engines were mostly powered down, the cockpit hatch slowly craned open, revealing the hard helmet, which encompassed the majority of the head, including with the visor. Hands of tanned skin reached up to loose the chin clasp and pull the helmet off the head of its owner. It fit snugly enough and the pilot was glad to be free of it, as it made even his scalp sweat and it was determined as the oddest of feelings by the pilot.
He climbed out of the cockpit, stopped to tie his helmet to his rucksack and swing the pack over his shoulder, then checked over his shoulder and jumped, scoring a perfect landing on both feet, knees bent, one hand stretched out to the ground, just in case. He didn't often make that jump with the extra weight of the rucksack. When he stood, he looked up to where the R2 unit sat in its place on the snubfighter.
"Syoki, close the hatch and go into standby mode. I will be back..." He glanced back at the spaceport crews, then turned again, craning his head upwards to the droid. "...when I get back. I don't know how long it will take."
A few bleeps and bloops and the unit did as it was told and went to sleep. The Felacatian pilot, the only one in the entire Alliance, turned heel and began walking across the tarmac, crews passing to and fro, behind, beside and in front of him. He had been informed when given his confirmation to land, that Glayde would meet him at the spaceport and they would go from there. After some minutes of scanning his eyes around, they alighted on the subject of his search and Meeristali Peradun did not waste time in making his way to the man in question, waving to him as he approached.
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