One's Not Enough

[Jamo Jakatta]

Two sudden flashes of light lit up the starry sky, as a pair of starfighters exited hyperspace. In the cockpit of the first X-Wing to appear, Jamo Jakatta quickly tapped at the controls of his ships sensors. From their base within the convoy known as the Wheel, they had jumped into territory that was a little beyond their usual patrol. The scanners took a moment to recalibrate and compensate for their new surroundings, but within seconds a blip appeared on the short-range radar.

“We have one ship, origin unknown.”

His voice crackled across the communication channel to his flight-mate, the two of them urging their astromech unit's to get a better reading on what they were looking at. Jakatta's droid gave a shrill whistle, then flashed up something on his display screen.

“...aaaaand we have ID.” With the flick of a switch, Jamo opened his comms to the starship that was drifting ponderously in space, within visual range. “Shuttle, this is Rogue Nine, do you copy? Repeat, this is Rogue Nine, ready to receive special delivery.”

[Iyar Thiled]

There was no shortness on the amount of friendly teasing Flipper had been tossing at Joker since they'd set out, so there surely was no surprised that on their closed channel he quickly responded with a: "Don't sound so eager over there. Special delivery indeed."

Yeah it was cheesy and a weak veiled innuendo but you could only be really clever so many times in a day. Besides... Joker had left himself open on that one.

[Jamo Jakatta]

Jamo thumbed the comms to Rogue Squadron's frequency and announced, in a voice as officious as the one he'd hailed the shuttle with: “Kiss my cargohold, Rogue Ten. Repeat, kiss my cargohold.”

[Grace Van-Derveld]

"Or perhaps you two Rogues could escort me back to the barn and do your jobs," came Grace's voice over the comm link, cold and impersonal as ever. "The Jedi are expecting me and I'm not going to be late. Upload the coordinates to my ship and we'll be off."

The link was cut off before any responses could be heard, but Van-Derveld didn't give a wampas' furry ass, especially since it was Jakatta's voice in one of those two 'wings. She was hoping it would be a long time in seeing that man again but fate would have it otherwise - as usual with her luck.

Burning the sub-lights at full speed, she wanted to put a good distance from them - the equivalent of the cold shoulder, so to speak.

[Jamo Jakatta]

It seemed like only a second passed between Jamo hitting the button to transmit the jump co-ordinates, and the Rebel shuttle vanishing into hyperspace.

“Well, best be off then, Flipper,” Jakatta parroted Grace Van-Derveld's stern way of speaking, though irritation bled into his voice. “We mustn't keep the Jedi waiting!”

Punching at the controls of his X-Wing, he threw the starfighter out of realspace. The shift from the darkness of space to the psychadelic throb of hyperspace was jarring, though fortunately their transit time to the Wheel was only a matter of minutes. When they rejoined the convoy, Jakatta saw that the Intel Director's shuttle was already heading towards the lumbering Whaladon. The idea had been that they would escort it into dock, but apparently Grace didn't see the need for the precaution. Regardless, Jamo throttled his X-Wing into line with her craft, the starfighters engines making catch up easy.

“Receiving docking vectors...” he said, again relaying the data passed onto him from the navigators of the Whaladon to his his wing-mate and their cargo.

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Master Jedi, we have confirmation from Rogue Squadron that Director Van-Derveld is en route. The Director is due to dock in.. hangar bay three in ten minutes.”

Rising to her feet, Daria Nytherciria gave the young Alliance crewman a nod. The boy – and that was what he was, barely out of his teens – had been diligent, if somewhat zealous, in his reports regarding the Director's progress from check-point to check-point. Her meeting with Rogue Squadron had been the last point of rendezvous.

“I'll welcome Director Van-Derveld aboard myself.” Before any protest could be made, she held up a hand. “No escort will be necessary.”

In spite of his disappointment, the crewman gave a salute and watched as the Jedi left. It had been some time since she had last encountered the woman she was about to meet and some small part of her wondered if Grace hadn't come to bring back Wyl Staedtler, the boy she had charged Daria with protecting so many moons ago. In truth, she knew that this was not the cause of the Director's visit, but the small flicker of hope remained as she stood waiting in almost empty hangar bay.

[Iyar Thiled]

Everyone had to be such killjoys lately. Sure it was for reasons Iyar understood and, while maybe not relate to, it still was annoying as hell. Oh well, looked like today was going to be one of those: Do your job; ...things.

With Joker pulling up on one side of the shuttle, Flipper took the other. It was quickly decided to let Joker and the Director continue with their objection-specific talking and actually keep silent for once. At least, until they all had their feet on the deck of the Whaladon. Though even then Flipper would probably cast the occasional unsaid comment through facial expression alone about the whole situation, it couldn't be helped after all.

As the three ships passed through the magnetic field of the hangar bay and touched down Flipper couldn't help but wonder if he and Joker were expected to continue to escort the Director, or if they'd be there long enough to just make sure Van-Derveld met with the Jedi representative before they'd be off and about again. As much as the thought of quickly returning to flight was appealing, the Zeltron had to admit that continuing to act as the Director's escort would be equally as amusing. If for no other reason than it gave room to continue to watch Joker squirm a bit.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Powering down her ship and locking the console, Van-Derveld unclasped the chair restraints and exited the cockpit in a hurry. Black boots snapped on the durasteel floors, and the Director allowed the minimum wait time for exit ramp to touch down before departing. Behind the dark mirrorshades, her vision immediately locked onto an old associate - Daria Nytherciria. They had not seen each other face to face in a long time, not since young Wyl was brought into her custody by Grace and Dasquian.

She stopped within arms length of the Jedi and gave a crisp nod of respect, "Knight Nytherciria. It has been some time, and I am pleased to see you well."

As polite of a greeting as it was, Grace's voice was void of any warmth, "Thank you for meeting me."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Daria offered a nod of her own. “Agent Van-Derveld, welcome. I hope your journey here passed without incident.”

If, by some leap of logic, anyone watching the pair had expected a smiling reunion, they were sadly mistaken. Any further welcome on the part of the Jedi Knight was delayed a moment longer as she, covertly, studied the woman stood before her. The change in Grace Van-Derveld's aura was marked, though Daria knew this was neither the time nor the place to discuss such things. She gave the two starfighter pilots only a passing glance before refocusing on the Director of Alliance Intelligence.

“Shall we proceed to somewhere more suitable and begin our discussions?”

[Jamo Jakatta]

With his helmet left behind in Rogue Nine's cockpit, Jamo stood otherwise in full flight orange at a few paces behind and to the left of Grace, whilst Iyar took up a similar position on the right. His wrists crossed behind his back, Jakatta watched the interchange for a moment before his eyes began to drift down the shapely length of the Director's body. When he saw – or thought he saw – the blind Jedi looking his way, Jamo shifted his attention to his wingmate and - fighting a smirk - gave a discreet shrug.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

She nodded crisply, "Yes. It was. I know I set off a few alarms coming unannounced, but I rather error on the side of caution."

Grace could feel eyes on her and she knew exactly who's they belonged to. It didn't illicit an outward response, Grace was ever cool and reserved, but if they ever have the opportunity to be alone - someone was ending up in the medbay.

"That is agreeable. Please lead the way."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Good. Gentlemen,” she looked to the two pilots, “Thank you for your assistance. You are welcome aboard the Whaladon, and we will call upon you if and when your services are necessary.”

The implication that the two men should remain behind, or at least should not follow, was clear. Without further delay, Daria and Grace departed from the hangar bay and moved through quiet corridors towards the nearest secure meeting room.

The Whaladon was a cargo hauler by design, so it lacked the sleek, polished conference rooms aboard some Alliance vessels. The old quartermaster's office had become their briefing room. In one corner, there were still boxes of star-charts and supply orders that the Alliance had yet to transfer to an active-duty vessel. A table and four chairs had somehow been squeezed in amongst it all. Daria perched on the edge of the table, threading her arms across her chest.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Without the escort following them, the Director's shoulders visibly relaxed and the two of them walked stoically together, Grace just a step to the left and back as the Jedi led the way.

Upon entering the meeting room, Grace looked around the accommodations but didn't comment. She had been in worse locations to be briefed or hold a meeting of her own. The most repulsive by far was a Rodian bath house lavatory ...

As the Jedi did not sit, the Rebel chose to stand at ease, arms behind her back, "Thank you for allowing to see me on short notice."

As gruff as she was, Grace still had manners and much respect for the Jedi. Especially this one. It felt like a lifetime ago when she and Dasquian had to practically blackmail Daria into protecting young Wyl. The thought saddened her for it evoked memories of her late partner and the guilt she harbored in sleeping with Jamo, but her face betrayed nothing.

[Daria Nytherciria]

“No, thank you for coming, Agent.”

Although the Alliance crew men and women aboard the Wheel went through periods of prolonged inactivity, Daria knew from her few encounters with Alliance Intelligence that field spies such as Grace Van-Derveld rarely had a free day in their schedule. Nevertheless, a memory of times gone by compelled Daria to add at least a small personal note to their conversation, before they got onto the meat of the matter.

“I heard about Agent Belargic, on the holo. My condolences to you and your colleagues.”

Grace didn't react, but Daria had expected nothing from her. Absently brushing her fingertips against her upper-arms, she drew in a quick breath and tried to decide how best to proceed.

“I'm not aware.. exactly how much you were appraised of, before arriving here. Have you had time to look at any reports on the current state of the fledgling Jedi Order and this.. Wheel we are all travelling aboard?”

[Grace Van-Derveld]

The condolences stacked up over the months about Dasquian's death had finally numbed her ears. It was just a footnote during the course of the conversation as she was concerned. There was nothing left inside her to care.

As Daria continued, Grace shrugged and pursed her lips. "Your numbers are growing at a trickling rate, but it is growing. You are internally organizing and helping to ease the newer members into life aboard the Wheel. However, supplies are an increasing issue as is protection."

A hand appeared in front of her and casually waved across the scene before her, "This situation is highly unstable. If the Empire were to learn of your location, the chances of survival are minimal."

[Daria Nytherciria]

It was a grim assessment, but a truthfully one nonetheless. “Correct,” she nodded. “We have been fortunate enough to receive the support of Rogue Squadron, however our... fleet, if it may be called that, is largely composed of starships that are ill-equipped to defend themselves. We have gladly taken what the Alliance has provided, and we are not without thanks, but at present we are... as the saying goes... sitting mynocks.”

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace quirked a brow at that and crossed her arms. She wasn't meaning to come off threatening, but sometimes even the Director was unconscious of how unfriendly her presence could take in but a moment. "Then what is it you are asking of me?"

It was clear that Daria was asking for some sort of assistance, but it what it was, she was having difficulty to predict. Supplies for the Jedi movement was a heavy handed comment. It could mean, literally, anything at this point in their chances for survival.

[Daria Nytherciria]

For Daria – who saw Grace's moods more in the fluctuating patterns of energy that surrounded her than in the shifts in her body language – the Director's current disposition was... difficult to determine.

“An indication, if it within your authority, as to whether we can expect any further military assistance. It would be presumptuous to think that we are the Alliance's foremost concern – I understand that is not the case – but the Jedi are akin to.. a species on the brink of extinction. One ill-placed assault by the Empire and all that is left of our kind will be wiped from the face of the Galaxy.”

[Grace Van-Derveld]

This meeting was bizarre to a degree for the Director. The last time Grace had any lengthy discussion with Daria, the Jedi was hesitant about doing anything that might ensure the survival of her order. And now here she was pleading the case for their very existence and how it hung in the balance depending on the will of the Rebellion.

"To be frank, Daria ..." Grace sighed heavily and shook her head, "I may be the Director of Intelligence but that is based upon that my best friend was killed in action and they have no one as suicidal as myself to take up the position. The Advisory Council tolerates my presence and are barely willing to even acknowledge I exist. I am not sure what I could possibly do to convince them otherwise, though I sympathize with your plight."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Although their involvement with the Rebel Alliance had deepened since the formation of the Wheel, there was a great deal of the politics of the Rebellion that the Jedi had little to do with. Daria hoped that fact would remain truth for a long time to come, as entangling the will of the Force with the decrees of a democratic government was practically a speeder-crash waiting to happen.

“I see.”

Daria drew in a calming breath, then gave a faint nod.

“Then perhaps you can be of assistance in some other way... by facilitating a meeting between the Jedi Council and your Advisory Council.”