Part 3

Tatooine had no industry, minimal pollution and hardly any moisture, which gave its small population one of the clearest night skies of any civilized world. The sand was soft like down beneath seven-year-old Mar Devlek, who laid down to watch the still frame drama of the stars and nebulae above with deep longing. His dirty blonde hair pooled around his head. A portable heater atop a large stone warmed the right side of Mar's face, but he couldn't feel it. The dots and strokes against black canvas captivated him. The boy couldn't count as high as the number of stars and systems he had memorized.

Mar's father was resting against another stone, hewn and rounded by wind to the size of an astromech droid. The old man was looking to the sky as well, stretching out his gray beard. Mar sometimes imagined he could hear his father's beard rustle like the sands. His parents were good to him, and provided as much as moisture farmers could.

On a trip into Mos Espa with his father, Mar once overheard an offworld pilot say to another that keeping his ship running for longer than a week was "like squeezing water from a rock." The pilot's friend had laughed, but Mar didn't. He didn't understand that it was a joke. When his father explained it later, that was when he knew how low his family sat on the galaxy's priority list.

However, when Mar laid like this and allowed the space above to engulf him, he felt like he owned the galaxy. Mar would pick out a system and imagine himself the captain of a small fleet of mercenaries who had just jumped in-system and declared themselves kings. He would listen to his father's blanket of a voice tell story after story about princesses and space pirates, and Mar was often carried home at the end, snoring against his father's rough tunic.

His father took a long breath, and Mar smiled, because that meant a story was coming.

"Far away from here, in the Alzoc system-"

"How far is that?" Mar asked.

"Very, very far. You couldn't get there even if you ran your whole life."

"Dad," little Mar groaned, "I know that, I'm not a baby. If I had a ship, I could hyperspace jump and be there like that!" He snapped his fingers. It sounded like the soft pops the heater sometimes made.

His father couldn't help but smile, "Yeah, you could, but then you wouldn't get to hear the rest of the story."

Mar took the cue and let his father continue, moving his shoulders in the sand to get comfortable.

"Far away, in the Alzoc system, there was a planet with families who worked hard and played and loved each other, and eventually they died, like everyone else. One day, on that planet, the dead decided to stop being dead, and started coming back. But they didn't come back looking like old friends and family, they came back as something else. The things that came back didn't really have a shape to 'em, they were just clouds of blue gas, full of little lightning storms where their guts should be."

The heater popped a couple times and Mar's face grew warmer as he sunk deeper into the story.

"This kept happening for years. Poof, and you could see 'em for just a second, and then someone was gone in a crack of lightning. Eventually they decided enough was enough, they couldn't lose anyone else to these cloud monsters. So a group of them got together, and they climbed up big, snowy mountains for days. I've told you about snow, right?"

"Yeah, it's like windy ice. They got a machine in Wayfar that makes it, I saw it one time."

"That's right, and it made the mountain climb very cold and much more dangerous. Some of them didn't make it. Eventually they made it back down with what they had been looking for."

"What was it," Mar asked.

"They were rocks dug out of the mountain top. The people took the rocks and turned them into a very special metal called "coldiron". They called it that 'cause no matter how long it was in the fire and glowing red, it was always cool to the touch. The coldiron was turned into swords, and they used the swords to cut through the evil clouds. Everyone the monsters took came back in the dark that night, and there was a big party across their whole planet. Nobody disappeared again."

Mar began to feel sleepy. The heater crackled once more and he turned to look. The popping grew in speed and volume and the warm glow exploded into a ring of monstrous flame. He gritted his teeth as the pilot seat nearly shook him to pieces. The canyon-split surface of Dreighton was approaching fast through the hole in the fire. What was left of his B-Wing broke through the atmosphere and the fire gave way to clouds and arid mountains.

Many kilometers above, his CO and old friend Gent Kirby was shouting at him through the radio. "Eject, kid!" Rookie One ripped away the yellow handle and the bullet-like cockpit freed itself from the wide, flat fuselage. The unmanned craft exploded against a massive stone spire, and the shockwave ran through him. At this speed, the ripples in the sand made him feel like he was coasting into an ocean. He heard a scream, and Commander Kirby's tag disappeared from the display, and Rookie One blacked out.

He awoke breathless, an impossible weight on his chest. Rocketing up from the reclined cabin chair, Mar nearly hit his head and the belts pulled him back. He gathered the strength to swallow. Then swallowed again. Then he breathed. The Alliance shuttle was empty save himself, two pilots, and a fighter technician. Years ago, Ru told him that he sometimes spoke during his nightmares. Fortunately, no one in the shuttle was looking at him, so maybe he hadn't said anything.

It was Mar's first trip off-world in two years, and he realized just how much he had missed space. He had idealized it during his drunken, self-imposed exile, and forgotten what it felt like to be so close to the emptiness. After being discharged the first time, Mar spent most of his time bouncing between Tatooine and a couple other systems to help extended family. Staying with them had been exactly what he needed, doing simple, good works for grateful people. He met cousins and nephews he didn't even know about, and taught more than one of them how to get an airspeeder off the ground. With little family of her own, Ru had tagged along, and his family had loved her almost as much as he did.

Weeks before their wedding, the Alliance came calling. Wraith Squadron needed "contractors", skilled pilots and saboteurs who could be brought on to assist in near-by missions on an as-needed basis. It wasn't unusual, many outfits did it, including Rogue Squadron. Mar and Ru both said "yes" with little hesitation, and Commander Murleen and Rookie One were back in the chair, dangerous and madly in love. It became the second-biggest regret of his life.

"Sir, we're here," the co-pilot said.

Through the porthole, Espira looked even drearier than it had on the holo, a ball of deep brown stone with a long chain of massive gray storms covering half of the surface. Just over the planet's crest, Mar spotted the edge of an asteroid field. From this distance, the rocks seemed to shimmer. The pilot guided them down through the edge of one of the storms, and interior lights struggled as powerful winds shook the shuttle's frame.

Beneath the clouds, the planet was nothing but extreme heights and nearly invisible lows. High-peaked canyons formed a web across the planet, hundreds of thousands of tiny rivers constantly running through the crevices below. The color and pattern of the massive stone walls reminded him of a dark, varnished wood.

The hangar was faceted into one of the more vertical cliff faces. Mar saw the last of the hangar door retract into the stone and noticed that they were the same color. He wondered just how close to enemy lines they really were. They touched down, the ramp lowered, and a beautiful young woman with dark skin, a loose-fitting flight suit, and a broad smile was waiting at the bottom.

"Commander Devlek?" she asked as he stepped down.

"Yeah."

She saluted with energy, and extended her hand before the gesture was returned. "Petty Officer Tola Lugarra, sir. We're really excited to have you here."

His brow rose. "When I was your age, we dreaded new CO's. What's wrong with you all?"

"Sir, you're by far the highest-ranking officer to step foot in this hangar."

"You're kidding," Mar grumbled.

"No, sir. Until now, it was Ely- I'm sorry, Ensign Elysar Morolis."

Tola's mood took a sudden, visible dip, but she remained positive. When Mar read in Tola's dossier that she was Tholothian, he had never expected her to be this upbeat.

He asked, "How is Ensign Morolis doing?"

"She was released from medical a couple days ago, sir."

"I know, I have the file. I have all of your files. I asked how she is doing."

"Ely," Tola began, but stopped, turning to look at a badly-damaged X-Wing in the far corner. Two men were using the hangar winch to carry away the remaining half of its upper starboard wing. She looked back to Mar. "I know Ely, sir. She is a survivor."

Mar nodded, then asked, "How bad do the storms get around here?"

"What you saw on your way in is pretty much it. We've had a couple lightning storms, but nothing that would ground us. Just lots and lots of rain."

"You don't sound like you're enjoying your stay."

"I'm more of an outdoors-type, sir. At least I'm pretty sure I am, it's been so long." She laughed, and Mar knew that Tola wasn't going to be his favorite person here.

A few seconds later, Tola realized that her new CO wasn't walking with her anymore. She spotted him closer to the hangar's center. Commander Devlek's hands were on his waist and he was staring at one of the squadron's X-Wings.

Tola approached and said, "That one is yours, sir. Actually, that reminds me..."

She retrieved a datapad from her waist and tapped at it. Mar ignored her, continuing to run his eyes over the fighter's sharp edges. The T-65 X-Wing was a platform that made good pilots great and turned great ones into heroes. He didn't really miss the people, but he had certainly missed the ships. A multi-limbed droid hovered over to Mar's X-Wing and pressed one of its arms against the craft's side, just below its canopy glass. A tiny black cloud puffed out around the droid's arm. It started to paint a tiny, crude TIE Fighters onto the hull.

"No," Mar said, "Shut that thing off. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry if the order or type of ship is wrong, sir. There were some pretty big gaps in your service record, so I had to guess."

"I don't give a damn about that, Ensign. I'm not going to cover my ship in bodies."

Tola was quiet, looking between Mar and his X-Wing. Mar noticed that another pilot and a couple technicians were looking their way. He hadn't meant to shout.

"I'm sorry, sir?" Tola offered.

Mar stalled by swallowing and stretching out his neck. "I said that I don't want a tally on my fighter. I used to do that, collecting them like toy ships. Not anymore, though, and you shouldn't either. In fact," He paused to look around at his impromptu audience. "First order as squadron commander: No kill tallies." Mar gestured at the floating droid. "Get them off any fighter that has them." As the droid hovered away with its task, he said to Tola, "If they're so worried about forgetting the people they've killed, they can get a charm bracelet."