"Jazz Phoenix!" exclaimed Lee Carter in a tone bordering awe. Even after twelve long years, the original Wing Commander of Banshee Squadron still exuded a charismatic and forceful aura that commanded respect and a little fear from those around her, qualities that seemed to have served her well in this place, if the throng of ragged followers surrounding her was any indication. Carter suddenly felt like a raw lieutenant again on her first flight under Phoenix's command. She regained her composure quickly though, and said, "We came because we picked up your distress signal and figured you needed help. I should have known we'd find you in charge of this place!"
Jazz gave no reply however, nor did she lower her weapon. She just stood before Carter staring -- first at Carter, then at Jo, Sam and Alex in turn. Carter couldn't decide whether or not she detected a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but Jazz's gaze eventually returned to her and stayed. Finally and with painful slowness, a look of disbelieving relief born of the realization that finally after all these years someone had heard her transmitted plea for help and come to take her away from this place after almost all hope was beaten down and gone, softened her features until she was almost smiling. "It's good to see you, Lieutenant," she said simply, unable to truly express her feelings at this moment.
Carter pointed to the rank insignia on her right breast and said, "Actually, it's 'Commander' now, Jazz, but it's good to see you too."
And then they were hugging. Sam and Jo limped forward as best they could, still nursing the injuries accumulated during their aborted escape, and took their turns greeting their old friend and Wing Commander. There was much joyous back-pounding and cajoling as Jazz came to grips with being finally rescued, while the others were just happy to see a friend long thought dead.
Alex had stepped back a few paces, not quite sure what to make of all this, and with mixed feelings about this strange charismatic newcomer. Jazz's throng of followers milled about unsure as well, although their suspicions were aimed at the newly-arrived Banshee women and not their long-time leader.
Meanwhile, from her vantage point in the desert outside the prison walls, Max had been watching the developing drama unfold through the spyscope on her rifle, and she showed up now as well, stealthily approaching the crowd unseen until she was among them. She stopped before Jazz, and suddenly all commotion halted and a silence fell over the celebrants. The two old friends each looked into a face neither thought ever to see again. After what seemed like forever, Max said, "Told you I'd come after you, Commander."
"And it only took you ten years."
Max shrugged good-naturedly "Well, better late than never, I always say." But her expression now grew more severe. "So tell me -- what the hell is the matter with you?!?" she berated sternly. "You send a distress signal, and when we land to rescue you this is the reception we get?" She angrily pointed to the general mayhem and destruction Carter's capture and subsequent escape had caused, as well as the dozen dead bodies lying strewn about the prison courtyard.
Jazz's expression darkened as well. "It couldn't be helped. Besides, I never thought it'd be you who showed up. But this is not the right place to discuss this," she said, casting a quick glance around at her fellow ex-inmates. "Come on, this way."
Minutes later, five Banshees and one former Banshee were ensconced in a small building away from the prying ears of the inmates. They were not the least bit happy about being excluded, but fortunately Jazz's will still held sway over them and they grudgingly departed for their own dwellings amid a last flurry of threats and grumblings.
Jazz lit a candle set on the table occupying the center of the room, dispelling a little of the gloom of the dark Lazon night. After that was done, she turned to address Max. "This is better. Now I can explain--"
Carter stepped forward then and interrupted. "Jazz, I realize you and Max were best friends, but I assumed command of Banshee Squadron after your... uh... disappearance. Why don't you tell me whatever you have to say." Carter's tone made it clear that it was more than just a suggestion.
Jazz raised a quizzical eyebrow and snuck a quick glance at Max, who shrugged noncommittally, then sank with a heavy sigh into the only chair in the room. "It's a long story," she said tiredly.
"Dawn won't be for another few hours," replied Carter. "We have time before the natives become restless again."
Jazz sighed again and thought a moment, then decided to change her story. "Actually, it's not a long story at all!" she declared with a mirthless almost-chuckle. Carter leaned against a wall, arms folded across her chest and made herself as comfortable as possible. Jo and Alex, with their injuries, relaxed on the floor while Sam tended to them with their recovered medikit.
"I'd like to know how you survived that attack twelve years ago," said Max. "I saw your fighter get blown to space dust before my very eyes."
"If you say so," replied Jazz. "I'll have to take your word for it, since I wasn't in it anymore. The Jem'Hadar beamed me out just before destroying the Sphinx. As a prisoner of war I got sent to Cardassia Prime for a speedy trial, and after being found guilty of course was sentenced to Lazon II. The War eventually ended, the Cardassians lost, Lazon was abandoned by the garrisons, and we, meaning myself and every other inmate on this planet were left to die."
"Only you didn't die," supplied Max.
"No, I've always planned on living forever," replied Jazz cavalierly, the unpleasant memories of that terrible time darkening her face. "I organized the inmates that would follow me as best I could and we dug in here, fighting off anyone who tried to steal our meager food and supplies. I've tried to keep my people safe and fed, and they've been loyal, in their own way, to me, although some of them, like Halfnose, whom I believe you met, would sometimes get overeager and take matters into their own hands.
"Every now and then starships would drop into orbit or land -- Ferengi or scavengers looking for salvage. Usually the inmates would get them and kill them before I could do anything about it, but a few months ago I managed to get my hands on an emergency transponder from one of these ships. I programmed it with the prefix codes from my Sphinx, switched it on and hoped for the best."
"And just our luck we were conducting training exercises in the area and picked up your signal," interjected Carter.
"It would seem so," said Jazz.
From the rear of the room where her shoulder was being tended by Sam, Alex spoke up in a weak voice. "Well, now that all that's settled, I vote we leave. Asap!"
Jazz cleared her throat. "Ah... Unless you brought the cavalry with you, Commander, leaving here will be a problem. My loyal troops outside aren't just going to let us leave, stranding them all here again. They'll kill us all the second they think we're trying to ditch them."
"Plus there a few thousand other ex-inmates scattered across the face of the planet that we should try to rescue too." This from Jo, always the voice of compassion.
Carter looked at Jo and asked, "That message you sent to SB901 before we landed... Did it get through?"
"Yes, boss."
Turning back to Jazz, Carter smiled and said, "Cavalry's on its way."
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