Brodey kicked his feet up onto the table and gazed around the dimly lit cantina. The cheers of his fellow Rogue Squadron buddies and numerous members from other squadrons filled the room with a deafening din as they celebrated their recent victory over the Yuuzhan Vong. He managed a small smile while he sipped on his caf. It was only a small victory, one that could be due to sheer luck. It wasn't like him to get excited over small victories when they had such a long way to go before they defeated the Vong, but he did feel a little bit of encouragement from seeing them douse each other in lomin ale. After all, they'd been fighting in this war for longer than he'd been around. Such high morale for a war-weary bunch couldn't be a bad thing.

"Lieutenant!" Cried Gavin Darklighter from over at the bar. "Can I buy you a pint of ale?"

"No thanks, I'm all set," Brodey called out. Some of his fellow officers, already fairly tipsy, groaned at his reply and motioned him over to the bar. He gave them a wave of refusal as he continued to sip on his hot beverage.

He watched with amusement as Wes Janson, commander of the Yellow Aces, "absent mindedly" poured half a bottle of Corellian brew down the back of Face Loran's dress uniform. Face howled angrily, spinning around to swipe at Wes, who had conveniently ducked out of the way and was halfway across the room at that point. A snickering Hobbie Klivian followed closely behind him, serving as Wes's bodyguard and partner in crime. Brodey grinned at the two older men and their antics. It was the sort of thing his younger brother might try and pull on whoever was dumb enough to not watch their back when he was around.

A lull came over the room and Brodey peered over the top of his mug at the tall, dark-haired man who had parted the crowd. The man was clad in a shiny black and silver flight suit and a black cape shimmered behind him like a mist as he walked toward where Brodey was sitting. From the metallic glint at his hip and the smug smile plastered across his face, Brodey had a pretty good idea of who the man was.


"Well kid, I guess this is goodbye for a while," Han said gruffly, clapping Brodey on the shoulder. "Just a word of caution before you go."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Brodey asked as he slung his pack over his shoulder.

"If some jedi in a sparkling black cape comes to bother you, give him hell." Han said simply.

"Will do."


"Whatever it is that you're selling, I'm not interested," Brodey stated after swallowing a mouthful of hot caf. If some flashy-looking jedi pilot thought he could waltz in with his squadron and immediately get Brodey to join him he had something coming to him. And it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Sharp-tongued, defiant by nature," The man observed, the corners of his mouth curling upward in amusement. "Just some of the many things I've heard about you."

"Well, it's great that I'm such a celebrity, but if you'll excuse me I think some of my friends want me to come and join them," Brodey said tensely, bringing his mug down hard on the glass table.

"Wait!" The man cried and Brodey felt a powerful influence pressing on his mind as he got up from his seat. He spun around in annoyance at having his mind forcefully tampered with and shoved back at the man with his own mind. The man's hold on him broke instantly, the force of Brodey's blow nearly knocking him off his feet if not for a table being in the way to stop his fall. The man seemed a bit stunned at Brodey's open demonstration of strength but nothing prepared him for being grabbed by the shirt collar and shoved swiftly against the wall.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you," Brodey hissed in a whisper as he extended out a single claw and placed it near the man's temple. "Now tell me why you're bothering me. Better yet, who the Sith are you?"