Noreh had been amazed by Vickie's telekinetic abilities earlier in the evening, but the member of Grace Squadron wasn't all that impressed with the American woman's handling of the Red Home. In truth, Captain Boyd was acquitting herself well with the large ship, especially as it was her first time piloting it. Mike rarely let anyone but himself or Noreh at the controls, and Vickie's nervousness about him finding out that she'd flown his pride and joy was adding to her already high level of stress.
But Noreh was a trained field medic, and Vickie wasn't. There was no question, then, as to who should spend the trip back to Bertie's flying, and who should be watching the wounded Mike.
In truth, Noreh mused as she stood looking up at her friend, Mike didn't need much tending to. Even allowing for the bacta tending to his wounds, the healing process was proceeding at an astonishing rate. Wounds were knitting together before her eyes, and only the extensive damage suffered by her friend was keeping him in the tank. The computer readout which listed a projected end to the treatment was tripping over itself in the effort to keep up.
The appointment had been set for weeks. Mike had attempted to wriggle out of it, but Corran and Kelly had insisted. The two sat either side of him as he fidgeted in his seat at the end of a long corridor. Kelly could barely keep the grin off her face as Mike rose for the umpteenth time to pace the length of the waiting room and back, and even Corran looked mildly amused, although for Mike's sake he tried to keep it hidden.
Eventually, the time for the meeting came, and the turbolift doors at the end of the corridor hissed open with Imperial speed. A black cloaked figure, dripping wet from one of Coruscant's irregular thunderstorms, stepped out of the turbolift and advanced towards the waiting trio. Mike's heart skipped a beat as the figure stopped in front of them, and swept its hood back from its head. The golden blond hair was the first clue to the figure's identity, and Mike stood frozen as Luke Skywalker, the first Master of the New Jedi Order, offered him his hand.
"Lieutenant Clark," Skywalker said, smiling. "A pleasure to meet you." Belatedly, Mike realised Luke had pronounced it 'Leftenant', as a British army officer would. Mike felt a little more at ease, having a small touchstone on which to build confidence.
In the meantime, Luke greeted Corran and Kelly, the two Jedi clearly at ease with their teacher. Mike was anything but. Months after his temporary Jedi experience, he'd come to try and find out exactly why what had happened, had happened.
And, possibly more importantly, whether it could happen again.
Noreh fretted over the readout. Something had caused the healing process to slow, markedly. While still within normal bacta range, the sudden drop in the healing rate worried her. Her finger was poised over the switch that would activate the ship's comm system, but with only Vickie around to pilot the vessel, Noreh didn't feel comfortable entrusting the flight to the onboard systems. Someone should be there in case of emergency, and landing was just out of the question.
Noreh frowned as she looked at the readout. It was fluctuating now, dipping close to a worrying level, and then rebounding to a safe point. Noreh didn't know enough about the GFFA equipment to understand what it meant, and she was leery of interrupting Mike's session until she had something to go on.
Mike was sat down between Corran and Kelly again, although this time his two friends were sat far enough away so as to not interfere with the device Luke was scanning him with.
"Holographic paddles," the Jedi Master had said. "Wedge discovered them several years ago, and they can be used to scan for Force ability and potential."
"Jedi detectors," Mike said. "One of the Emperor's toys, I presume."
Luke nodded, a great sadness washing over him. "Although we use them for noble purposes now, the Emperor and his subordinates would have used them to scan suspected Jedi, and even non-Jedi Force sensitives would have been at risk."
"Good job they didn't have 'em in Corsec," Corran commented. "Me and my dad would have been in trouble."
"Very much so, Corran," Luke said. "These paddles are believed to be one hundred percent accurate." He paused, and then; "Until now, anyway."
Mike sighed. "What?"
"Curious," was all that Luke would say. He looked at Mike.
"Your Terra Group file, that is accurate, yes?"
Mike shrugged. "As accurate as myself and Sci could make it. Why?"
"I've never seen readings like these before. These paddles simply cannot decide what you are, or rather," Luke paused, and smiled, "obviously you are a human male, but as to your Force potential, there is no clue. As far as these paddles are concerned, you are a Force wild card."
The readings had dropped dangerously low, and Noreh had called Vickie from the cockpit in desperation. The female Jedi had hissed as she was forced to repeat her stressful telekinetic feat, and sweat beaded her brow. But Mike lay sedated on a simple medical couch, his readings stable, but low. As Noreh hurried to resume control of the ship, which was currently hovering over a deserted field, Vickie tried once more to delve into her friend's mind.
Yet again, she found her path blocked. A curse slipped from her lips as she tried to work out how a Jedi mind probe could circumvent whatever blocks her friend had erected.
"Come on Mikey," she said, eyeing the wavering readouts nervously. "Give me something to work with here."
Kelly blinked. "Wild card? How do you mean?"
Luke sat back on the edge of his desk, deactivating the paddles and setting them down beside him. "The readings are... glitchy. Sometimes they say Mike has no Force ability, sometimes they say he has the potential to be a great Jedi. It's... confusing."
"There are three confirmed Jedi in the room," Corran said, smiling at Mike "Could that be confusing the readings?"
"Very possibly, Corran. And yet, I thought that the two of you were outside scanning range. It's strange, because looking at Mike through the Force..."
"Yes?" Kelly asked.
"It's like... static. Sometimes I can see things very clearly, and at other times... I'm afraid I can be of little help to you in your search for answers. The Lieutenant is utterly unique, in my experience at least."
"That's what they all say," Mike replied, with a twisted grin. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Master Skywalker," he said, offering Luke his hand as he stood.
"And you, Lieutenant," Luke said, shaking hands, and repeating the very English pronunciation of Mike's rank. For once, Mike didn't wince at the mention of it.
Noreh's persistent comm checks on Mike's condition had been enough to convince Vickie to trade places with the pilot once again. Now the Grace sat uneasily beside the tank, into which Mike had been replaced.
"You're not making it easy," Noreh said, one hand lightly touching the glass. Inside the tank, Mike's face twitched as whatever he was dreaming wound its way through his mind.
Explosions and fireballs. Death and destruction. Hate and dismay. Pain and betrayal and anger and hurt and loss and fear.
Noreh watched in concern as Mike's face twisted into a grimace. But the medi-readings stayed the same, Mike's gradual return to physical health once again back on track.