A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS: TALES FROM THE OUTER RIM

Luck of the Draw

From the Adventures of Zac Muleer

-3-

The debriefing didn't quite go as planned.

Zac was getting the business end of a good dressing down from the spaceyard administrator for the willful destruction of the Shadow Eclipse. The irony didn't escape Zac that it had probably saved the station. Fayla was next to him getting her own version of the speech for putting 'such a reckless pilot at the helm' of their freighter, 'not to mention just a trainee.' But the fact that the station was grossly unprepared for this type of incident would make him look bad in front of the CorSec chief, and the administrator needed someone to blame.

Right when the administrator was getting to the part about the loss of a full shipment of Tibanna gas, and how Zac's little maneuver destroyed whatever was left of the gas, venting it into space, and what that would do to the shipbuilding schedule, the station received a call from CorSec Command. He was called out and didn't return to the debriefing room.

The cycles ticked by before the Executive Officer finally appeared through the blast doors. "Ensign Muleer. Flight Officer Els'eil. You have a holocall coming through." He tapped a few controls on the central console and promptly turned and left the room. Zac frowned and walked to the comm. Before he could view the ID, a projection appeared in front of him. Two meters tall, chest bristling with medals, and a lopsided grin on his face, the Commander of the Corellian Security Force stood in a translucent bluish hue in front of Zac.

"Ensign Muleer! Can't tell you how glad I am to have you on board that station! Or off that station as the case was."

He knew the commander's dossier: he wasn't a fan of humility. "Thank you, sir. I'm sure you've heard that there are some on this station who feel the same way, Sir," Zac boasted, not doing a good job of suppressing his smile.

"I can only imagine. I hope the station administrator isn't giving you too much trouble." He sneered the word, clearly holding a disdain for administrative bureaucracies.

Fayla's fur was still rippling as she seethed from the dressing down they had received from the station administrator. "Only a little trouble, sir," Zac responded.

"Well, Mr. Muleer, I want to congratulate you, and be the first of many to do so."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Under review by CorSec Command – and ignoring the station administrator's attempt to ground you – you have just been submitted for recognition as one of the youngest Corellians to be awarded the first-class bloodstripe."

Zac blinked. He was utterly speechless. "I, uh, well, thank you sir. I appreciate the thought, but surely there is someone more deserving…." His bravado quickly melted away as he suddenly felt uncomfortable.

The CorSec Commander laughed. "Not so much, Mr. Muleer. The thing about the Bloodstripe is that it's not awarded to individuals who are heroes in the heat of the moment. Your critical thought process and sustained action despite risking your life and career saved the station." He began counting off on his fingers. "That station is a critical asset to Corellia's defense. Your skill saved at least the lives of your training squadron, and likely many others who were on board that station. You knew that damage would be caused to your ship, yet you put yourself in danger anyway. And you pulled off one hell of a flying stunt that was far above what can be taught at the CorSec Flight Academy." He leaned in. "But you can bet we'll be teaching it now!" Leaning back out and rocking on his feet, he turned to recognize Fayla. "I'm glad we have instructors there with the foresight to put experienced trainees in the chase freighter."

So, I get recognized with the planet's highest award for being lucky, Zac thought. He glanced nervously over to Fayla, who was beaming at him, obviously proud of her friend and student. "Surely you're missing more worthy nominees," Zac offered.

"Son, just take the damn nomination." He laughed and pointed at Zac. "Just remember the first rule in the galaxy, Mr. Muleer: no good deed goes unpunished."

"Like awarding a mere student the famed Bloodstripes." Zac bowed his head. "Thank you, sir, but you're going to regret that." He looked back at the holo and grinned.

"Officer Els'eil submitted your flight records to CorSec Command and my aide has shown them to me. I don't think I will, and I'd bet my rank on that." He saluted, and the holo quickly faded out, before Zac could return the salute.

Fayla was grinning and clapping him on the back before he was even able to step away from the holocomm. "Congrats, Zac!" Zac was feeling woozy and he made his way to a console chair to lean against. Fayla was chittering excitedly about Zac's upcoming fame, while Zac was running through the responsibilities and ramifications of being awarded the Bloodstripes. Neither of them heard the station administrator walk back into the room.

"Ahem." He cleared his throat, waiting for the two young pilots to snap back to attention.

Zac and Fayla straightened up, but Zac didn't lose his smirk, and Fayla's fur was rippling. Clearly, this man agitated her, but they both knew he wouldn't do anything after the call from the CorSec commander.

"It seems your actions have given you some renown on the planet, Mr. Muleer," he sneered. "And Ms. Els'eil, your blatant disregard for administrative action on board this station have been completely overlooked." His eye twitched. "Pending an order by CorSec Command, I will process the Commander's request. I don't like it when regulations are not followed, Ms. Els'eil. I expect your files to be in pristine condition when this matter is behind us. Mr. Muleer, you will continue flight training with the rest of your class, but you will not do so in a freighter. You will rejoin your classmates and complete your classes with your cohort. However, I have some good news."

The way he said that did not prepare Zac for good news.

"I will be overseeing the evaluation of your progress from here on out. And if I see anything that costs this station one credit more, or one file that's out of place, I'll have you shipped back to the crystal swamps as slice hound bait. You get me?"

"Yessir." Zac and Fayla both barked.

"Now, listen up. And listen very carefully. Until this investigation is complete, you are both confined to the station. CorSec may have anointed you a hero, but you are administratively incompetent. I want full reports on my desk in two days, and your flight status will be reevaluated in one week." He turned his back toward the door. "Now get out."

Zac and Fayla turned on their heels and hurried out the blast doors on the other side of the room. They got on the lift and headed toward the barracks level. Fayla finally spoke. "I guess this means we have some time on our hands."

"Looks like we've earned ourselves a little staycation," Zac said grinning.

Fayla was smiling as well. "So what do we do first?"

"Well, first I'm going to change out of this flight suit. Get into something respectable."

"Very funny."

"And then, I'm hitting up the sabacc tables in the station's casinos." Zac grinned. "First, an award of honor, and then a week of leave? I'm going to keep this lucky streak going for as long as I can!"