The Republic is in a state of turmoil. The ominous presence of the Sith has finally been revealed to Jedi, but their undertakings and schemes have yet to be unveiled. A group pf planetary systems and their leaders, calling themselves the Separatists, no longer believe in the same causes as the Republic. They have defected from it, declaring war on the Republic itself as well as the guardians that keep it – the Jedi Knights.

Little do either party know that this is but a twisted plot to bring the Republic crashing to its knees. Into a time where symbols of justice and peace will become legend and everything held sacred will cease to matter. It is the rise of the Empire and a time where the Dark side of the Force seeks to govern all.

But one chance event – seemingly slight and insignificant – holds the power to destroy these dark, unfolding events. The only question is, will it?

"Loading bay 49, loading bay 49: your cargo has been loaded and is now prepped for transport." boomed out the voice. It echoed loudly against the walls of the large dock, and had no significant effect on the people scuttling to and fro from their stations and vessels. The temporary visitors – for that was what many of them were – were of a variety of species.

Indeed, Feynoor Vaas was an extremely popular galactic spaceport, for many reasons. It did not distinguish between legal vessel identification and a hokey tag number. Its security consisted of slack ex-military personnel who were more concerned about how many Republic credits they could win at the local cantina, and – best of all – one's cargo was considered to be as personal as one's love life. In other words, it was a smuggler's haven.

So why didn't it attract the attention of Republic lawmakers? The spaceport was located far out from the thriving capital, Coruscant. It was almost as far out and maybe even less conspicuous than the dusty planet of Tatooine. Less conspicuous because it was smaller – almost the size of a large moon. Feynoor Vaas was also located amidst a particularly troublesome asteroid field – that served dually as to impede the intrusive arm of the Trade Federation and to bring in some of the best pilots and smugglers in for business.

Business was probably the main reason for a stop on Feynoor Vaas, although other reasons were likely to surface. During some months it could be a hub for those with a gambling streak in their blood. Sometimes the money brought in by gambling on the little planet could easily equal the money pilots paid to station their vehicles overnight. Many had succumbed to the lure of the gambling dens, and had left the planet on public transports having lost their own vessels in desperate attempts to win it all.

One person, who did have quite an affinity for the average card game – but a better relationship with Lady Luck – stood by his vessel, leaning against it while grinning at passers-by. His youthful looks and carefree demeanor barely betrayed his actual age. But looking closely at the graying temples and striking pupils, only a fool would fail to notice the weathered emotions that were subtly peeking through. He was chewing on a rare spice, rolling it around in his mouth without actually biting down on it – letting the full flavor take its time in finding its way to his taste buds. A few moment later he ran a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh.

'Red, I want you to make contact with that kid. We're ready to go with this shipment and he's already late,' he spoke into the comlink that connected him with the droid aboard his ship. 'Oh and open another crate of Tafo, would you? I could do with a bit of drink in me. With the deal I just made – it looks like we can afford to retire. Ten times over.'

'I copy that, sir. Would you like me to relay any additional message to the boy?'

'No. Just tell him that his delightful presence is desired. And that this delight declines as every minute ticks by – he'll get the message.'

'Yes sir. I shan't leave out a single word.'

The man sighed. Protocol droids – Jeez. Tell 'em to walk a yard and they'll go the whole mile. He was just about to walk towards a small portable vendor who was selling dried Pallie when his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure running towards him. Recognizing it immediately, he turned around.

'Hey,' he said to the approaching figure, 'if you consider yourself a tourist you should have probably decided to take the next public transport out of this place.'

The younger man grinned, taking this light-hearted reprimand for what it was, and managed to pant out: 'I came running as soon as I got your second message, Deacon. I couldn't understand the first one, you see, there was this-'

'Yeah, save it kid.' interrupted Deacon looking away from the boy and towards the ship. 'We should make haste – as the Republic senators would say. Make haste before we lose this nice little deal that's found its way into our laps.'

'"Haste lays to waste the best thought out plans." I quote one of the best politicians this side of the galaxy,' replied the boy as the two walked up the ship's ramp. 'Chancellor Palpatine.'

'That may be so, but he ain't on this side of the galaxy. Kid, we're so far out that those quotes don't even apply to this quadrant. You've got to learn to stop talking like this anyway...people around here,' Deacon shook his head and frowned, 'to them – this kind of talk would brand you as an outsider. Now I'm not talking species-wise here. You'd be an outsider among outsiders. Some of the dumber ones might even mistake you for a spy. Someone who's here to crack down on some of the illegal activities going on. And given your situation – I think it'd be best if you tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. In other words: don't be yourself.'

'Gee, you do make me feel all warm and tingly.' quipped the boy. 'I've never felt so welcome in my life.'

As they entered the ship, Deacon looked ahead of him and continued to speak while his hand groped the sides of the wall. It found a small red button that activated the ship's ramp and caused it to retract. 'Hey, it's not my job to make you feel welcome. It's my job to make sure that the Solo family – or what's left of it – doesn't fall down the drain pipes.'

The boy looked down at his boots. 'Is that what you think of my parents' deaths?' he asked quietly.

Deacon closed his eyes and let a small groan escape his lips. Being around tougher folk most of his life, this sudden contrast in the presence of the boy could often make him stumble in his choice of words when it came to sensitive, more emotional issues. 'No, no...Riobhan – I didn't mean it that way. It's just that...what I meant to say is that, I was close to your parents. They were the only people good enough to take me in at a time in my life when my supposed friends shunned me. After all your parents did for me, this is the least I could do to repay them.'

Riobhan looked up and gave the man a lop-sided grin. 'I do believe that that's the most heartfelt, genuine thing you've said in years.'

'Yeah. So don't you make me repeat it. Heartfelt emotion gives me indigestion.'

With that he walked towards the cockpit. Riobhan followed and sat down in the chair next to his older compatriot. He strapped himself in and began punching in buttons on the console before him.

Deacon acknowledged his actions and gave the boy a slight smile. 'A couple more weeks and I think you might be able to make the Kessel run,'

'Really?' exclaimed the boy, eyes wide.

'Settle down – I was just joking.' Seeing the boy's crestfallen face, he added, 'Tell you what though, I'll let you fly us out of the Vaas asteroid field. It's a tricky stunt, but with what I taught you for the past two years, you should be able to scrape by. I meant that figuratively of course...'

'Terrific! Lemme warm up her engines.' said Riobhan, feeling cocky. 'Hey, what was this deal that you were so excited about anyway?'

'To tell you the truth, I'm a little in the dark myself. I've just received instructions to go dock into Alderaan's port where I'm told I'll be given further instructions.'

The boy gave Deacon a bland look. Something that made him often feel rather uncomfortable. Deacon frequently thought hard about this expression – it never really betrayed what the boy was thinking underneath it all. Under other circumstances – this look on someone else's face would immediately warrant mistrust on his part because some of the most dangerous people were the hardest ones to read. Predictability – in such a harsh galaxy – could often come as large advantage in certain situations. But this boy wasn't "someone else", he reminded himself. He was the closest thing to family the older man had. He had to trust him.

'That's the most I know, kid.' said Deacon, somewhat apologetically.

'No slaves though...you know we agreed we weren't going to go into slave trading.' said Riobhan.

'No slaves. That much I'm sure of.'

'But it pays? You're saying this one is big?' questioned Riobhan.

Deacon stopped what he was doing and turned to face the boy. 'You know how your parents always wanted you and your brother to have it all? The best education, the best home...?' Riobhan nodded as Deacon continued. 'Everything that you lost when your folks died, you can now get back. Because of this shipment deal I just made. It's that simple.'

'I can't get back everything...money isn't going to buy me back my family.' He shook his head. 'I dunno, Deacon. If this is something shadier than the usual hocus, I'd rather we sit this one out.'

'You haven't lost your whole family. There's your younger brother, Han. He'll need this when he's older. He'll need something stable to lean on. Do this for him.'

Riobhan looked out the window. Perhaps his friend was right. Besides, at this point in his life, he really wasn't in the position to pick and choose. Anything seemingly good that came his way was one more chance at a better life.

He'd just have to risk it.