That part of Team Paris that remained approximately alive and unharmed sat in the cockpit of the Red Home, idly scanning instruments and minutely adjusting controls as the auto-pilot steered them back towards Mendellia. The silence was oppressive as they measured the relative success of their mission against the fact that one of their comrades was missing. While Vickie had said that Josh Nolan's disappearance was being investigated by Nick and Kristy, his four team-mates felt that, somehow, by leaving France without him, they were abandoning him.
While the last couple of days had been frantic and, at times, incredibly dangerous, thoughts of Josh had been suppressed. Now that the excitement was past, the four were left thinking about their friend. Given that Brad had other things to worry about as well, given that Becki was still fretting about kissing Josh Cochran, given that both Josh and Vickie were Jedi with deep worries on their mind....
Given all that, it's not surprising that no-one noticed the cockpit door hiss open, and the bead curtain rattle as Mike's astromech slipped out of the cockpit on its way to the medbay.
R5-X3 trundled determinedly through the Red Home's underlit corridors, navigating without conscious thought through the featureless warrens that lay beneath the ship's main hangar.
Since Mike had been brought on board the night before, X3 had made this journey several times, although only when absolutely sure that the Home wasn't going to be crashed into the Eiffel Tower or anything. He wasn't exactly happy about anyone else flying the Red Home, but Mike wasn't in any shape to do it right now.
As X3 passed one of the countless doors that lined the corridor, it hissed open, and a voice called out to him.
"Oh, X3, thank goodness. Could you assist me, please?"
X3 paused, and span his dome to bring his visual sensor to bear on the open doorway. He perceived the unit's protocol droid, Z-3PO, standing in the doorway, looking, as far as a facially inanimate droid could manage, flustered. But flustered was almost ground state for a protocol droid, especially the 3PO series, so X3 turned slowly enough to demonstrate reluctance at being diverted from his task, and followed Zee into the darkened room.
"I simply don't know how humans manage," Zee said. "And to think they do this by choice! By the maker..."
X3 followed Zee to the edge of a bed, on which he could just make out a bundle of cloth. Zee bent forward, and picked up a square of linen, which it added fastidiously to the bundle on the bed.
"I just need your pincer, here... Really, I don't know what Mistress Cheriss was thinking in asking me to look after her child. I'm only a droid, after all, and not very knowledgeable about such things."
X3 lowered its stabilising leg to the ground, and continued the extension process. Slowly, the droid rose up to a point where it could see down onto the bed, and was momentarily nonplussed. Swaddled in the cloth was a human child, not much more than a few days old, if X3 was any judge. He hooted softly, not wanting to wake the sleeping infant.
"The baby was brought aboard at Agen by Mistress Cheriss, of New Republic Intelligence. And I've been sworn to secrecy! But Mistress Cheriss is only a Lieutenant, and if Mistress Boyd were to ask me, I'd be forced to admit the truth. Oh dear, I wasn't programmed to deal with secrets."
X3 keened quietly, offering the opinion that most secrets were better off out in the open, as they could hurt people more if kept secret. He extended his gripping arm to hold the linen square in place as Zee fastened it, creating a nappy.
"Oh dear. Do you think that might be a bit extreme? Perhaps I can keep the secret without anyone finding out and getting hurt."
X3 lowered himself to the floor. As he turned for the door, he noted that the bigger the secret, the more people were likely to be hurt when it was revealed.
As he exited the room, he added that he thought Xtreme was a fine name, and would appreciate being called it from then onwards.
Conditions in the cockpit of the Home hadn't improved. The four team members sat listlessly about, watching the distance-to-Mendellia-counter apparently try to scroll backwards.
The comm unit buzzed, and Becki attempted to tune it to the new signal. What they ended up with was still a large part of static, but the mass of brown hair and intelligent features marked out their caller as Terra One, Kristy Henscheid.
"Hey PK," Becki said, grateful for a chance to take her mind off things. Behind her, the other three members of the group clustered around close so that they could see the screen.
"Hello, my Queen," Kristy replied with a grin. It wavered as she saw Becki blanch, even through the static. "Is something wrong?"
"No, it's okay. Just some hassle we had on the mission."
"I heard. Some of it anyway. Was it so bad you had to grow three new heads to cope?"
Becki managed a wan smile as the other three chorused hellos. "What can we do for you PK?" she asked when they'd quietened down.
"Just wanted to check all you guys were alive," PK said, smiling brightly. "I mean, I know about Crispy..."
"You're taking it well," Josh Cochran said. PK looked at him blankly.
"Is Mike not with you?" PK said, suddenly concerned.
"He was... hurt in Paris. What do you mean you know about Crispy?" Vickie asked. "Is he dead?"
"Dead? Crispy? You mean you haven't heard? Nick and Yarg rescued him! He's in Mendellia now, probably even out of bacta."
In the cabin beneath the hangar, Cheriss' baby awoke at the sounds of the cheering and yelling from the cockpit. Zee did her level best to calm the child, but the cool metal of the droid's body did little to soothe a child only just used to the warmth of its mother's flesh. The wails, when they came, were loud and piercing, loud enough to drown out the cries from the cockpit.
The cheers died out in the cockpit, as the four team-mates all turned to face the new sound.
"What's that?" Vickie asked, her hand on her lightsabre.
"I don't know..." Becki said. Turning back to the comm unit, she said; "PK, speak to you later. Something's up here." Cutting the connection, she stood up.
"You're going to check it out?" Vickie asked.
Becki nodded. "Yes. Anyone with me?"
Josh stood, and held his lightsabre loosely in one hand. "Wouldn't dream of letting you go into possible danger alone. I wouldn't be a very good friend if I did, would I?"
Zee tried everything she knew in her limited databanks on childcare. This pretty much amounted to imitating the motherly growl of a Wookiee female, and didn't have a noticeably soothing effect on her young charge.
So, when the door to the room opened, Zee sighed. She was beginning to suspect Xtreme had been right, and secrets were probably best put out in the open. Not that she had much choice in the matter right now, but she filed it away for future reference.
In the medbay, Mike's eyes slammed open, and he sighed inwardly as he realised that he was once again in bacta. He was beginning to get tired of it.
As his vision adjusted, he could make out the welcome sight of his R5 unit standing patiently beside the tank. That, together with the presence of any bacta at all, let alone enough to fill a tank, let him know he was safe.
He pressed a hand against the tank, eager to find some way to combat the neutral bouyancy of his environment. The cool glass of the tank felt good against his skin, and he shuddered as he thought how close he'd come, once more, to never feeling anything ever again.
Another hand pressed against the outside of the tank, exactly mirroring his own. Mike's eyes tracked up the arm to a mane of golden hair. While the bacta blurred his vision somewhat, he knew of only one person who looked like that. And it wasn't a bad sight to awaken to, all things considered.
Brad turned as the door to the cockpit hissed open. Whatever he was going to say froze on his lips as he took in the tableau of Josh, Becki, and child. Then he grinned.
"I knew you Jedi had special powers," he said. "But that's damned impressive."
Josh held up a hand. "Please, no jokes. This is Cheriss' kid, apparently."
That made Brad and Vickie gawp. "Cheriss? As in the woman we were looking for?" Vickie asked. Josh nodded, sinking into his chair. "Apparently she brought the kid on board in Agen, and gave it to Zee to look after."
"Any idea why?" Vickie asked.
"None," Becki replied, holding the baby gingerly. "Maybe Raymond can tell us. Where is he, anyway?"
"Medbay," Brad replied. "He has some first aid training, which is more than any of us, so..."
"We'll talk to him when we get back," Josh said. "Everything will make sense when we get back.
"You hope," Vickie said, smiling in spite of herself. "At least we were on the right track, if we got that close to Cheriss."
Becki sniffed the air, and grimaced. "As you're so cheerful, you can change it then," she said.
"I would, but I'm about the only qualified pilot here." Vickie said quickly, before realising who she was sharing a cockpit with. "And besides, Mike'd kill me if something happened to his ship," she added smoothly. She turned away quickly, but Becki felt sure that her friend was grinning.
Brad was already staring at a row of switches, and was playing with a big dial Becki felt sure controlled the tilt of his chair. "Big storm front coming in. I need to, uh, help Vickie fly this thing," he said. He looked blankly at the wall over her head as he said it, and refused to look her in the eye.
Becki looked at Josh. Josh looked resolutely away. "Danger, yes," he said, refusing to look her in the eye. The bunching of muscles at the corner of his mouth suggested he was just restraining himself from laughing. "Smelly diapers, you're on your own."
Becki took a deep breath, and immediately wished she hadn't. She sighed, and hit the control to the door. As she headed back towards the cabin where Zee had collected a few things that might be of use to a young baby, she noticed the way something gleamed amid the baby's bundle of cloths. Dipping a hand gingerly into the bundle, she pulled out a necklace with half a locket on one end. Something nagged at her about the design of the locket, but she had more pressing demands on her mind.
And, more to the point, her nose.
Sighing again, she slipped the necklace into a pocket and headed off to clean up someone else's mess.