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Solomon had made a point to pull up what intelligence the Alliance had on Dhomnda A'lainn, known to the Empire as RX-271, once Serena had told him about the time she'd spent there. It was considered backwater, even by outer rim standards, but the Imperial presence had grown there in recent months for unknown reasons.
The concern was plain on Solomon's face. "I can pass that along," he said. "May I ask what you're planning to do there?"
"There are some crystals we are hoping to recover, and I wish to check on the welfare of the people. To that end," Serena added, "I have a favor to ask you."
"Oh?" Solomon said, lifting his eyebrows. "You know you only have to ask."
"I would like to be able to gift some medical supplies to the chieftains I interacted with the most. Nothing too exotic, but bacta and other antibiotics - things of that nature. I know you keep Exodus fairly well stocked, and I was hoping you could be persuaded to meet us on the way..?"
Serena smiled, adding, "Also Morgan thinks a medical shuttle would be a better cover than an empty freighter, in case we are stopped by the Empire."
Solomon's smile deepened with relief. Sending Serena into danger was one thing. Riding into danger alongside her - well, that was just as if the chrono had been turned back thirty years.
"Oh, you'd be surprised where you can go with a medical shuttle and a valid missionary license," he said. "I'll have Exodus prepped and ready to launch as soon as I've had a word with the Council. And believe me..." He looked around at the stale bulkheads surrounding him. "You're doing me a favor."
Some of the tension around her eyes eased, tension that wasn't visible until it was gone. "Then I look forward to seeing you again. May the Force be with you, Sol."
Serena ended the transmission and looked up at Morgan. "Do we need to spend more time purchasing rations to supply Gaoth, or have you been able to find what we need?"
The timer in the right corner of the screen had two minutes left. Serena had kept it brief, which meant the encryption protocol wasn't even close to being taxed. The stack boring brown boxes on a hand truck were packed full of generic ration bars, which Morgan could consume at a frightening pace when active. It was enough food for six people three weeks, just in case. He idly opened a ration bar.
Well, normal people. Morgan ate enough for 2 on a low activity day. Rations were boring. Morgan ate food made from plants and animals given almost any chance, but since they were floating around in space, there wasn't a huge opportunity for fresh food.
"We're full up on the generic boring stuff. Not especially enjoyable, but it will keep us going for about a month. I figure we can get better food on Dhomnda A'lainn."
Morgan gestured at a pallet carrier, loaded with medical equipment. Fold out cots, medical grade tubing, drip devices, scanners, publicly available drugs, gauze, vibro-scalpels, and of course, a hammer.
"Got a surprise for you too." He said, and gnawed on the bar.
Her eyes lit up, and she smiled widely. "That is wonderful, Morgan. Thank you."
Serena got to her feet, straightening her cloak and brushing away an imaginary wrinkle or two. "Sol will be joining us, all that remains is to transmit a rendezvous point to Exodus." She looked at the hand truck and pallet of supplies, adding, "And getting these on board our new ship, of course."
No mess, no fuss. Morgan wasn't sure if that was how the phrase went, but that was how setting up Serena's medbay had gone. The Portal Delta was behaving, too. He'd let Serena do the course plotting, and simply massaged the cranky hardware into working. In the six hours it took to get to the waypoint, they'd set up most of the makeshift medbay into something that looked more static. Serena had cleverly designed it to resist sudden impacts, and anything but loose items would stay put, short of a zero-g scenario.
They were more than halfway to RX-271 from Sluisi space, at a good place to rendezvous with a ship from the wheel, in a charted but unoccupied solar system, with the exception of a mining complex on the other side of the sun.
Morgan prodded the console for the Portal Delta. They were exactly where they were supposed to be.
"Who's a good little Portal Delta? That's right, you are." he said with more than a touch of whimsy.
"Ah, there he is." Morgan added, picking up a fresh new blip on the sensor readout.
The Theta-class medical shuttle crashed down from hyperspace less like a starship and more like a boulder falling into a river. Solomon almost thought he could hear the inertial dampers whining under the dimensional stress, but he knew it was just his imagination. Still, wouldn't hurt to ask Morgan to take a look next time the Exodus was laid up in the Challenger's hangar.
IFF confirmed that his contact was nearby, and he switched on the comm. "This is Exodus calling... how exactly do you pronounce that?"
"Gaoth agus Domhain," Serena said over the comm, her voice tinged with a smile. "Just exactly how it looks." She had been laughing at Morgan's conversation with the Portal Delta when Solomon had hailed them. "Approach at your own pace; we should be able to dock together with little problem, but I'm going to let Morgan take care of that."
Her padawan took the controls, and Serena brushed a loose strand of hair from her face while the two ships maneuvered together. Her stomach felt strange, and she pressed her hands together over her abdomen, as though that would quiet the butterflies within.
The two ships soon engaged in a dance of synchronization. It was possible to let the ship match Solomon's automatically, but Morgan's mind seized the opportunity to do some rather involved real-time math coordinated with very fine motor skills. His hands moved smoothly across the ships controls, and gently coaxed the freighter to dock with angular Theta shuttle.
The ships connected with a surprisingly soft clunk. Morgan double-checked everything before he stood up, and went to welcome Solomon to Serena's new boat, but stopped first to open a box he'd put in the middle of the rations. It was two bottles of wine, one bubbly, one delicious. Bottles in hand, he went to meet the other Jedi who'd spent the most time watching Serena wake up.
Solomon waited in the docking cowl as the two ships exchanged atmosphere, clad in his customary long nerfhide coat over his black shirt and clerical collar. When the airlock finally hissed open, he was surprised to see Morgan holding two bottles of wine.
"Good to see you Morgan. I guess this means the shopping went well?"
Serena took a deep breath, then followed Morgan out of the cockpit and down the passage. She nodded to Solomon, "We were very successful, thanks to Morgan's knowledge of ships."
They lingered at the airlock for a moment, and then she stepped back, "Come in, come in, and welcome aboard."
Morgan smiled in response to Sol.
"Well, now that everyone is here..." Morgan trailed off, and handed Serena the bubbly bottle. It was cool, almost cold to the touch.
"This was very thoughtful of you, Morgan." Serena said, and popped the cork. It bounced off the ceiling, and banked down the hall.
It had been a very long time since Solomon had attended the christening of a new starship. Fortunately, the Faith didn't forbid its ministers from having a little wine every now and then.
Solomon lightly sipped his as Serena and Morgan showed him the clinic they'd raised in the cargo bay. It was simple in the way that speaks of cleanliness and practicality, and, really, you didn't need much more than a few simple tools, a raised, flat surface, and plenty of light to do a world of good to people without access to medical care. Solomon had done it often enough on the grace of a few courses in battlefield medicine.
"I've got supplies for a good week of clinical work," he said as he rifled through the Gaoth's stock. "Also six cases of medicated bandages and common antibiotics. Just one case of bacta, though. It's getting harder and harder to convince medical to part with it."
The preacher stepped around a privacy curtain and carefully set down his cup - not a stemmed glass, which was silly to carry aboard a working starship - on an exam table. "So that should do it for our official business. What else do we have planned?"
He looked Serena gamely in the eye, knowing full well there was an else the Imperials shouldn't know about.
She returned his gaze squarely, her mind suddenly overflowing with memories. "There is a cave system beneath the Cos Briste mountains. I explored it at length a few years after I arrived." Serena waved her hand a bit, as though skipping over a long and boring story. "It is extensive, and there is a cavern that is crusted over with crystals. I tested a few at the time - they are appropriate for lightsabers."
She found herself considering the last time she was in a cave with Sol, and managed to keep her blush to a slight tinge of pink in her cheeks. "With Illum known to the Empire, and the Jedi installation there destroyed, this could be a very important substitute for us. And," she added, "Morgan is constructing his lightsaber."
Serena sipped her champagne, her lips curling up in a secret smile that she couldn't quite contain but hoped to mask with her cup.
"I figured I should learn how to use one by now." Morgan stated. Something was slightly off about Serena's demeanor, but he couldn't place exactly what it was. There were several possibilities. Going back to Dhomnda A'lainn, the new ship... Sol? They were both Old Republic Jedi, it was possible that they knew each other well from the Clone Wars and before.
Morgan sipped the wine. He'd spent a little more than he wanted to, but the product was fantastic. Besides, it wasn't every day a ship was christened.
Serena may have been the empathic one, but that didn't mean Solomon was blind to where her mind was going. Those were powerful memories, even if they seemed a lifetime away. But circumstances had not yet given them the opportunity to decide, together, what to do with them. Which led to an awful lot of coltish glances and awkward smiles unbecoming two seasoned veterans of the Order.
"I couldn't agree more, Morgan," Solomon said. "Any idea where your focus will be? Soresu, like your master?"
Text, subtext... damnation, he couldn't keep this up for long. Maybe the two of them could steal away from Morgan for a few hours and finally put it plain to each other.
Serena sipped the wine again as Morgan and Sol spoke of lightsabers and combat and fighting styles. She rarely partook of alcohol, and was careful not to overdo it, though suppressing the effect of the wine would not be too difficult. That sort of thing usually turned around against the person who tried it, however.
She set her tumbler down, carefully not looking at Sol, and smoothed her clothes. They would be underway soon, heading home.
Home?
She paced along the cabinets built into the bulkhead, her body showing signs of her inward anxiety to be underway. Serena hadn't realized how much she missed the tranquility of Dhomanda A'lainn, but she was becoming excited to be returning.
Morgan rubbed his chin.
"I hadn't given it much thought, although Adia said I'd be very effective at Djem So with my build and strength. Definitely not Vaapad. I don't think I have that sort of intensity."
"I have a lot of experience with a knife, but after watching some of the other Jedi spar and practice with sabers, they're just a different beast. I only know which way to point the thing." Morgan stated with a chuckle.
Solomon chuckled back, a honey-rich sound. "Vaapad masters come once a generation, but there are several Djem So practitioners aboard the Wheel. With Serena's blessing, of course, I'd be honored to assist in your training."
The preacher tipped back the last of his wine - it really was an excellent choice.