Jedi Artisan 016

The bridge of the Hammerhead-class cruiser trembled with every impact, the deckplates humming underfoot as crimson warning lights bathed the command deck in a pulsing glow. Alarm klaxons blared constantly, each shriek punctuated by the distant thunder of turbolaser fire slamming into failing shields.

At the center of it all stood Zane fiddling with the hem of his robe, and cool as a cucumber. Calm, relaxed, his nonchalance gave off an almost bored vibe. 

Meanwhile, the bridge crew were mostly silent, each and every one of them kept glancing at the tactical display. Each second that ticked by, the bomber squadron drew closer and closer. Despite the Captain's best efforts to bring them down, the fighter escorts were alternating between one another, using their own ships’ shields to tank a hit or two, then pulling back to recharge. Using this strategy, the ancient battleship's point defense systems, and nearly retired old timers didn't have what it takes to gun them down. 

Zane playfully strummed his harp, wondering what emotions he could evoke in someone. Surely it wasn't limited to happiness, right? Music had such a wide breadth of emotion, he'd like to experiment on these neredewels assaulting the ship. Afterall, a Jedi couldn't commit a war crime if there wasn't a war, right? These were just pirates, scum of the galaxy. 

His hands rested idly on the small harp he had woven from his endless thread. It was a delicate, almost fragile-looking instrument that shimmered faintly with an inner, rose-tinted light. The Kaiburr crystal’s influence still clung to it, forming a quiet resonance in the Force that practically sang of beauty and elegance. 

Another impact rocked the ship, and a console exploded in a shower of sparks along the port side, drawing a gasp from the bridge crew. 

“Shields at forty-two percent and dropping.” One of the officers morosely intoned. 

“Return fire!” Captain Monogan snapped, gripping the arms of her command chair with iron resolve. Her voice was firm, commanding, and utterly unyielding. “Bring our forward batteries to bear on that bomber!”

“Aye, Captain, but-” The tactical officer hesitated, glancing at his readouts. “They’re maneuvering too aggressively. We can’t get a clean lock.”

At the tactical station, a young Garm Bel Iblis leaned forward, jaw tight as he studied the incoming vectors. “The Corona-class frigate has launched missiles at us. I estimate that they'll arrive simultaneously with the bomber's arrival.”

What went unsaid was that once the bomber dropped its payload, and finished their shields off, the missiles would be more than enough to destroy the Hammerhead. 

Another violent shudder rippled through the ship, and Monogan exhaled sharply, then keyed the comm. “Open a channel. Now.”

Static crackled on the bridge, and she began to attempt a little diplomacy. 

“Unidentified vessels.” She said, her tone clipped and authoritative. “This is Captain Monogan of the Republic Judicial Forces. You are engaging a Republic vessel without authorization. Stand down immediately or face annihilation.”

Silence met her, and Monogan clenched the edges of her seat tightly. She then closed her eyes seemingly deep in thought. 

“I need solutions, people. Jedi, you said you had a plan, why haven't you enacted it?” Monogan snapped. 

From behind her, Shaak Ti stepped forward, her lekku swaying slightly with the motion, she glanced at Zane, and at his harp. “I have a method to get in contact with them, it's a longshot, but I can overload their sensors with junk data, and force a faint connection.” 

At that moment, when Monogan was about to rebuke Shaak Ti for that asinine suggestion, Zane plucked a single note on the harp. 

The sound was soft, cutting through the anger and anxiety that plagued the crew. A single, pure tone resonated with the bones of everyone on the bridge, and they felt all their aches and sores temporarily disappear, like how one felt after a day spent at the masseuse. 

Several officers faltered mid-motion. The panic in their expressions dulled, replaced-if only for a heartbeat-by something serene. 

Zane smiled faintly.

“There we go.” He murmured.

Monogan turned sharply, and despite the brief moment of relaxation became somewhat stern. Her duty as Captain of this crew, and personal morals meant that she couldn't surrender herself to flights of Jedi fancy. 

“Jedi, I don’t have time for this frivolous, self aggrandizing, vapid nonsen-” 

“Oh, you do.” Zane said lightly, not even looking at her. His fingers moved again, brushing the strings with a delicate touch. Another note rang out, followed by a gentle cascade of sound.

This time, the effect lingered longer, and instead of peace, brought clarity of mind. Furthermore, like a bard from some fantasy game, this harp provided a ‘buff’ to everyone present, increasing that tenuous, invisible, but all important substance that every team needed to succeed: 

Morale!

The alarms seemed to disappear, and even the gunners who weren't upon the bridge felt something through the bulkheads. Seconds later, one of the ever elusive starfighters was brought down, exploding in a glorious fireball.

“Hit! We've scored a hit!” The Ensign at telemetry raised a fist in cheer. 

Many people breathed out a sigh of relief, they felt like it was possible. For the first time since this ship full of senile veterans, and spoiled rich kids trying to look good with a service record felt like a real, functioning military unit. 

“Shields holding steady at 40%.” Garm stated in disbelief. The Lieutenant watched on as three more red laser beams directly struck the Hammerhead, and yet, the ripple upon their shields was minor at best. 

“What are you doing?” Monogan demanded.

“Winning.” Zane replied smoothly. 

Another volley struck the shields.

“Thirty nine percent.” Garm slowly muttered, unsure whether he should be thankful reality had chosen to reassert itself, or notice that this latest volley should've taken them down 3%, and not 1%. 

Shaak Ti-working on a console nearby-spoke in a low voice to the captain while she made herself busy.

“His instrument, it doesn’t merely soothe. It influences the mind, suggesting others to act to his tune. With the proper focus…it can reach beyond this ship.” She said, trying to convince Monogan that Zane wasn't insane, and at the same time, speaking out of embarrassment, because Zane was doing what Jedi so frequently did…speak & act like a mysterious wizard without offering any concrete solutions. 

Monogan stared at her. “You’re telling me he’s going to play music at them until they stop shooting?”

Shaak Ti’s lips twitched faintly. “In essence, yes. Watch.” 

The sexy red skinned Togruta then finished typing away at several glyphs, and sent out a pulse in the Force. An officer on the faraway frigate subunconsciously had his finger slip, pressing a key he didn't intend to. At that moment, a garbled text of junk code entered his ship's systems, and a channel was opened up between the Hammerhead's bridge, and all comms channels of the enemy fleet. 

Shaak Ti glanced at him, and smiled. “Show them the truth of the Force.” 

Zane very much wanted to take his girlfriend into his arms, kiss her, and praise her for what she had just done, but instead, he decided he'd play a song for her. It was a song from the heart. One of sorrow, loss, melancholy, and despair. One of those songs that you shouldn't listen to often, but damn when you did, did you have a good cry! 

Zane’s fingers plucked along the strings guided by the Force. The melody grew into a layered, intricate, yet impossibly smooth vibration. Each note flowed into the next with hypnotic sorrow, weaving something intangible into the air.

He closed his eyes, and reached out through the Force. Space and time had no meaning to him at that moment as he recalled his transmigration, and the pain of losing his family from Earth. Of learning what it meant to be a Jedi, and all the suffering he had witnessed on numerous worlds since then. 

The bridge fell into a strange stillness despite the battle raging outside. Even the crew, though still working at their stations, moved with an odd, dreamlike focus. Meanwhile, the tactical screen showed that the bomber was drawing ever closer, however, curious enough…it seemed to be wobbling in place, like a drunk driver attempting to maintain control. 

Monogan clenched her jaw. “Helm, bring us about. We cannot afford to be struck by that bomber.” 

“It will reach us in less than five minutes” Garm interjected. “Captain, they’re accelerating. Attack vector locked. They’re coming straight at us.”

Another blast slammed into the shields.

“Twenty-four percent.” Someone whispered. 

Monogan knew that this fight was almost over, and had made her decision.

“Helmsman, set a collision course.” She said in a resolute tone. 

The officer froze. “Captain?”

“You heard me. “Full speed ahead. We ram the bomber before it can release its payload.”

A stunned silence rippled across the bridge. Perhaps since Zane was directing his music outward, the crew weren't as affected as others, and could treat this is some kind of joke. 

“That’s insane. Even if the Hammerhead is rated for ramming maneuvers, it would be more fitting to close with the frigate, not a bunch of starfighters.” Garm said under his breath, eyes flicking between his displays. “They’re too fast. We won’t line it up in time, they’ll slip past us and gut the hull.”

Monogan didn’t look at him as she spoke next. “Then we don’t miss.”

Zane’s melody deepened, becoming stronger as it pulsed through the universe unseen. Invisible waves carried through the Force, slipping into cockpits and command decks beyond the cruiser’s hull, this melody whispered sad truths that punched a metaphorical hole into all who listened to it. 

A flicker of hesitation assailed the minds of the enemy forces. 

A pilot’s grip loosened on his control yoke, making the starfighter corkscrew spiral aimlessly into Mimban's chaotic atmosphere. 

A targeting reticle drifted just slightly off center, making the next volley go over the Hammerhead's bow. 

Shaak Ti’s eyes narrowed as she felt it. “It’s working, but not fast enough.”

She stepped behind him, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. The connection between them was instantaneous, as if they were meant for one another. Her presence in the Force was steady, mature, and focused, acting as a counterbalance to his playful, wandering spirit. 

Together, they pushed the boundaries of this song. The depressing melancholy took on a new turn, as if life might have a bright future if one was only willing to look forward to tomorrow. 

The melody sharpened in the Force, and pierced the psyche of everyone above the space near Mimban. 

“Their speed has slowed.” Garm noted. 

One of the escort starfighters veered slightly off course.

Another drifted a fraction too wide.

The bomber hesitated.

Just for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. 

“Now!” Monogan barked. “Helm, full speed!”

The cruiser surged forward, engines roaring as the massive vessel lunged into the oncoming attack vector.

The bridge crew held their breath.

Outside, the Star Saber bomber loomed into view, and was no longer a tiny speck in the blackness of space, but up close and personal. 

“Ten seconds to impact!” Garm shouted.

Zane’s fingers danced across the harp strings, the melody reaching a fever pitch, creating something beautiful, terrible, irresistible.

Five seconds.

The bomber’s nose dipped, seemingly ready to drop the load. 

Three seconds.

“Shields at twelve percent!”

Monogan leaned forward in her chair, eyes locked ahead. “Hold steady…”

Two seconds.

The bomber pilot hesitated.

“Adjusting vector!” The helmsman cried.

One second.

The bomber and its crew pulled up, and began to fly back towards the frigate. 

A collective gasp filled the bridge, but Monogan was full of doubts. Before she could order someone to find out what the hell was going on, the pirates hit them up on the comms. 

“Republic Judicial Cruiser, we, we surrender. Please treat us with dignity, and we are yours.” The voice said between a sob, and the kind of relief a man feels after coming to the light. 

Zane plucked one final note, then turned around to hug Shaak Ti. 

Cheers erupted across the bridge, and people were clapping like hooligans at a football game. 

Garm let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “They broke formation…they actually broke formation.”

Monogan slowly leaned back in her chair, her grip loosening as the immediate danger passed. Her gaze shifted toward Zane.

He winked at her, and offered a cheeky salute. 

“Told you.” He said lightly, lowering the harp. 

“Winning.”