Bad Day to be a Jedi

From TFC Galactopedia

"Coming out with us tonight, Captain?"

Zannah smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, Seira, not tonight. I've got next week's rosters to work up."

The red furred vixen smirked. "You sure? Sen will be there."

Zannah laughed. "I'm sure. Go on, have a good time. I'll-." She stopped suddenly, as if frozen.

Seira frowned. "Cap? Zannah, you ok?"

A choked gasp answered her. Hardcopies fluttered to the ground like falling leaves as the white vixen grabbed at her head. Pain and death flooded her senses with the echoes of billions of screaming voices. Unbearable agonies roared over her, and Zannah fell to her knees still clutching her head. She was dimly aware of Seira screaming for a medic, but the pilot's voice seemed less real than the horror unfolding through the Force. Just when those phantom voices reached an unbearable pitch, the sensation snapped off, leaving behind a silent void which was, if anything, more disturbing than the pain had been.

"Captain Lyles."

Gentle hands helped her sit up and lean against a convenient strut. "I'm fine," she mumbled, "just... fine."

The green suited medical officer snorted softly, checking the white vixen's pupils with a tiny light. "You're not fine. You collapsed on the flight deck."

Zannah drew a steadying breath. Her limbs felt like jelly, and her head had begun to ache with a steady dull throb. Even so, she managed to gather enough of herself to wave the medic's statement away. "I'm- I've probably just been working too hard. Maybe I should take a few days off."

The medic frowned, obviously not expecting agreement, much less capitulation, from her subject. "Yes, you should. In fact, if I find out you haven't, I'll have Commander Delaney put you on enforced medical leave until you DO get some rest. Is that clear, Captain?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Her head ached too much to argue with the medic. Zannah reached a hand out to Seira, who was still hovering nearby. The red furred woman helped draw her to her feet. Once there, Zannah found herself wobbly but able to walk. That was good. It meant her control was returning despite the shock of whatever she had just experienced. "Help me get to quarters, Sei?"

"Sure, Captain."

Seira left her reluctantly at the door to her quarters. Zannah shooed the other woman away, promising to get some rest and insisting that it would not happen with pilots fussing over her. Once alone and inside, she sank onto her bunk with a grateful sigh, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands. She did not want to think about what she had felt, but her mind kept returning to it, turning it over as her sense of dread built. Bitter memories of another time reared their ugly heads, a time when the sensation of powerful deaths had trickled over her young mind like acid. Master Thorodin, who was both her fencing and gymnastics tutor as a child, and more besides, had explained later in private and after she had recovered, that someone was killing Jedi. It had been their deaths she sensed as they were hunted down and destroyed. It was then that he had admonished her twelve-year-old self never to reveal to anyone that she shared some of those abilities, even though she had not been raised to be a Jedi. That she possessed some of their powers would be enough to make her a target too.

This time, the sensation had been different, somehow. It felt like a rush of death all at once, not the spurts and trickles that had marked the Purges. On its own, her mind presented the answer. Zannah shook her head in denial, not wanting to believe it. The only explanation she could come up with for so many lives to have been snuffed out at once, and the deaths so violent that it sent a wave through the Force... Somewhere out there, a heavily populated world must have died. It happened sometimes to small colonies in the Rim. There were accidents, disasters, plagues and asteroids, but this... Fingers trembling, Zannah flipped on the tiny holonet display by her bunk. Nothing. None of the major news networks were carrying a story covering anything like what she had felt. Did they not know? Was someone sitting on the news deliberately? Something in a tiny sidebar caught her eye: A report that NovaCom, an Alderaan based Holonet company, was suffering a complete blackout. Unusual, especially for a Core world like Alderaan, but not unheard of.

A shiver traced its way down Zannah's spine as she read the name. Was that the answer? Had something killed Alderaan? A holonet blackout was far from conclusive proof. She snapped off the receiver and went to the local comm. There was one other person in the city who could tell her whether she was going crazy or not. Zannah waited impatiently for the tone on the other end to signal a pickup. It beeped softly at her.

"Master..."

"I know, child, I felt it too."

"How did you..?" She frowned, muzzle wrinkling. Master Thorodin might have retired as palace tutor, but the gray furred wolf was as sharp of mind as ever, and a step ahead as always.

"It doesn't matter. Come when you can. We will talk."

"Yes, Master."

Zannah turned off the comm and returned to her bunk, curling herself into a ball. It was impossible not to think about it, and worse that she could not confide in her pilots. They had already pulled through so much together, but this was not something she could share with them. Hey, kids! I think someone or something's gone and blown the frack out of a major planet. How do I know? Oh, I felt it happen. She snorted. They would likely try and have her committed for her own safety if she mentioned anything like that. Gee, Cap, heard you passed out. Hit your head on the way down or something? No. Zannah shook her head. Master Thorodin was the only one she could safely speak to about this. Once she was steady enough to make the trip to his lowcity studio, that was precisely what she would do. Until then, though, she had to try and rest. The medic may not have been as far wrong as she first thought. The vixen sighed, rolled over, and tried to sleep.