Entry 009: It's good to have Friends...

Commander Sato instituted the full patrol schedule this week. Up until now, there have been only a few patrols going out. Their job was mostly to keep current intel on the systems we used to get our supplies to us. There weren't any Imperial patrols beyond the normal light cruiser, but a few criminal groups started surfacing.

I understood the Commander's caution at not wanting to move too fast. I lost my entire squadron, but there are times when caution needs to be your second priority. We were doing too much hiding and not enough striking. There is an old Ukian saying: "The Femermaw may bury itself in times of trouble, but that only protects it until it resurfaces to a predator ambush." It sounds better when they say it.

Every patrol began the same way, with the entire flight group jumping into the Lothal System. It was predictable, but also a good "starting point" for the various patrols. Also, it kept the Imperials from getting bored. Our jumps put us at the outskirt of the Imperial Quarantine Zone around the planet, but it was still close enough to perform a general sensor sweep. From there, we would jump to whichever system Commander Sato needed fresh intelligence on. Most of the week was completely quiet, and then it wasn't.

I was pulling a patrol with Twelve to the Oon system. It was a desert planet rimward in the sector that boasted a mining base and not much else. There were notes about some kind of uprising, but they were incomplete. However, what it had during this patrol was a small flight of ships making their way to the surface of the planet.

They weren't Imperial ships, but that didn't put my mind at ease. They were larger freighters that my sensors identified as Aurore-class. They were an older design with a pair of thruster engines, but not much in the way of defenses aside from their heavy armor and single blaster turret. However, even in the Imperial academies they went by another name: Zygerrian Slave Ships.

Slavery is one of the biggest taboos with the Rebels (according to the Declaration of Rebellion) and the Zygerrians were one of the largest slaving empires in the galaxy. I knew the Empire authorized them, but even in the Academy I found it distasteful. Now, after reading some of the reports from various freed slaves, it just made my blood boil.

I did an inspection scan on the ships when they were in range and it caused a knot to form in my stomach. Each ship had a bridge crew of three, except for the lead ship which had five. In their cargo holds, the scan showed fifty lifeforms. They were clustered together so tightly that the scan couldn't identify any of them by species or size.

My scan didn't go unnoticed because the lead ship contacted me. My fighter wasn't equipped with a holographic projector, so I was quite surprised by the full-color image that appeared on my screen. Most slavers tended to hide their identity, but this one looked rather aloof and comfortable in her heavily armored vessel.

Her skin was lavender-hued, with a lighter patch around her face and inside her large, feline ears. She had a long slender neck and very delicate features. Grey makeup decorated her eyelids and lips. However, the most drawing feature was her large golden eyes. It took me a moment to remember that she was a slaver, but I was still drawn completely into her eyes (I've always loved beautiful eyes).

Her voice was exotic with a clipped accent as she spoke. She identified her ship as "Zygerrian Trade Ship Trojan" and demanded to know my business. I responded that we a patrol flight for a planetary militia that was checking the surrounding systems to keep them free of pirate activity. She thanked me for my diligence and asked why I scanned her vessel. I told her that I was just making sure she wasn't up to anything nefarious like piracy or slavery. I let the word ooze out of my mouth in as much of an accusation as a statement.

Her ears lowered, eyes narrowed, and I saw her lip curl into a bit of a sneer. Apparently, I hit a nerve. She told me that she was not slaving and called me a racist for assuming that all Zygerrians were slavers. I smiled and said that if she wasn't slaving, then she'd have no problem setting down away from any city or garrison and allowing her "cargo" to walk out so I could make certain.

She cut the channel and I prepared to dodge the weapon fire from the turret on each of the ships. I would have preferred not to destroy any of them, but still targeted the weapon system on all three ships as a precaution. I sent the target data to Twelve, as well.

A moment later, the Zygerrian appeared with a smile and agreed to the inspection. I was immediately on guard, though. It was too easy. She asked that I follow their ships down to a small oasis along the northern polar region. I scanned the area and saw that it was at least half an hour travel from even the closest outpost with anything resembling a ship.

I signaled Twelve and we pulled in behind and below the craft, out of the firing arc of their blasters. I also told Twelve that if things went sideways, she was to disable the ships and return to the fleet. She protested, but I told her that it was my call. I expected her to do her job and follow my instructions. She acknowledged, but I heard the unspoken defiance in her voice.

The oasis turned out to be a small wet-looking pool of mud ringed by a dozen moisture vaporators. The vaporators all looked to be newly installed and my sensors showed them as being full, which was a major waste of water given the climate. The polar region turned out to be a cool and refreshing thirty-five degrees in the shade of the scrub-like trees around the mud pool. The three transports landed in formation with the oasis behind them and I set down a hundred meters in front of them.

I climbed out of my fighter and brushed my palm lightly across the pistol strapped to my thigh. It was an unconscious gesture to make sure it was there. I visibly unstrapped it, too. I was fifty meters from the closest ship in the group when its ramp opened. I stopped and decided that halfway was good enough for a meeting.

I was quite surprised when I saw the Zygerrian walk down the boarding ramp toward me. She wasn't all that tall, about one and seventy meters, but was lithe. Her stride was graceful, like a dancer or martial artist, even as the wind blew her thin skirt around her legs. I couldn't see her arms through the puffy sleeves of her dress, but her wrists were as slender as her neck in their gauntlets and her hands each ended in thick claws where most humanoids have fingernails. Her ears were also covered in a draped shawl that sported three white spikes on her forehead. I could see that she had the lightest of brown eyebrows.

She greeted me with a half bow and introduced herself as MaDall, extending her hand with a limp wrist. I was exceedingly grateful for the academy training in dealing with royalty. I removed my helmet and held it under my left arm. Taking her hand gently in mine, I raised it to my lips. Her hand smelled slightly of sandalwood and cinnamon and was very soft. Up close, I could also see that the lighter areas of her skin weren't covered by the fleece-like fur.

I introduced myself, adding my rank to my name for effect. She smiled, revealing white teeth with only the barest hint of elongated fangs. As she lowered her hand, it rested gently on an electro-whip clasped on the side of her corset. I likewise loosely rested my free hand on the grip of my pistol, my forefinger tapped just above the trigger for effect.

She smiled again and purred out that I was cuter than she initially guessed with my helmet off, followed quickly with "for a human." I thanked her and returned the compliment about her beauty. The truth is that I could have stared into her eyes until the sun went down. There was just something about them that drew me in. It was also dangerous, because the other two ships hadn't opened up yet and Twelve was still circling in a holding pattern.

She broke the silence between us with an almost flirting suggestion of her having something I wished to inspect. I hid my sudden awkwardness with a smirk. I responded with a similar flirting tone that I was ready to inspect anything she was willing to show. She looked me over, as if appraising me, and absently waved a dismissive gesture toward the ships behind her.

Her eyes never left mine, but I scanned the dropping landing ramps. When they were fully extended, all three ships began to disembark their passengers. I could identify Aqualish, Bith, Duros, Ithorian, Mon Calamari, Rodian, Togruta, Twi'lek, and even a female Wookiee. Mixed among them were humans of every age. The one thing that I didn't see, however, was any slave collars on them. More than that, there were no slavers mixed in with them and they were not walking as if bound in any way.

Several were exiting the ships pushing hovercarts that looked to contain prefab shelters and other gear. A group of the children met beside the ramp to the Trojan and then ran off to play near the muddy oasis. There was even an elderly woman who set up a small chair with a sail over it to relax and watch the younglings.

MaDall shifted her stance to favor the hip with the electro-whip on it, making me grasp my pistol without pulling it. She let out a musical peal of laughter and said that she wanted a holo of my confused face just for the enjoyment the look brought her. With the same smile, she asked if I was satisfied with what I saw. I returned the full once-over she had given me and acknowledged in the positive.

She lifted her hand to her ear and began speaking to whoever was talking into her earpiece. She asked for the information to be relayed to her, then for it to slow down slightly with an annoyed tone. She looked back at me with her eyes full of mirth, as if she knew a joke that I was not in on. I placed my thumb on the safety for the blaster and tensed for a quick draw.

She said my name, my rank, and that I was assigned to Phoenix Squadron under Commander Jun Sato. My smile dropped. She gave my homeworld, my Imperial Service Identification Number, and then mock chided me for a warrant from the Empire for desertion. After that she acknowledged that there was no bounty, almost with disappointment. She ended it with my approval having been given by Fulcrum Agent Ahsoka Tano of Rebel Intelligence. In short, she had access to my entire Rebel dossier.

I let the thought circulate through my mind, realizing the implication, but nodded and said that we needed to talk. My hand relaxed off of my pistol as she agreed and looked skyward to Twelve, still circling the oasis. I heaved a sign, nodded, and spoke into the mouthpiece of my helmet, instructing her to land and assist the new colonists with building their homestead, following it with the safe word to acknowledge it wasn't a ploy. MaDall's smile was infuriating knowing that I had just been played by a Rebel operative.

I followed her to her ship, mentally noting that the sway of her hips as she walked in the light dress was even more impressive from behind for various reasons. Before we got to the ramp, she looked back over her shoulder and caught me staring. She didn't look upset, but her smile grew into something conspiratorial. I had to snap myself out of watching her as we entered the ship, just in case there was an ambush. It was quite difficult, and I didn't know why. Though, walking behind her, I was aware of the spiced incense smell even more.

The bridge of her ship was small. A human man was seated on the right side with a Twi'lek woman on the left. A human infant was on her lap reaching for the various controls and trying to pull them into its mouth. The pilot was Mon Calamari and wearing a similar uniform to the one I saw on Admiral Raddus at the Rebel base on Dantooine. He was finishing up a post-flight checklist before standing. I didn't see a rank insignia on his jacket, but nodded to him in case a salute was warranted. He returned it as the man picked up the child and wrapped an arm around the Twi'lek's waist, following the Mon Cal out.

MaDall did a regal flourish as she sat in the central command couch of the bridge. In truth, the seat was more of a throne on a raised dais than a starship commander's seat. She tapped one of her dark claws on the arm before gracefully sliding her finger across a button that closed the door and dimmed the lights. I placed my helmet on the control board the man vacated, noting that it was a comm station and turned to sit against it with crossed arms.

She asked if she could interest me in a bit of refreshment, adding that she always enjoyed a glass after a successful mission. I nodded and thanked her for her hospitality, on edge because this was nothing like what I had expected. She pulled a pair of glasses and a bottle from beside her seat and poured. It was a very dry and bitter wine, but I politely sipped it to not be rude.

I asked her what was going on outside, seeing the various peoples setting up a small town of prefab structures and catching the sight of Thaema's shaved head and red coverall as she worked on a generator. MaDall explained that she was a slaver, letting it hang in the air as I took another sip of the wine, following it with "according to the Empire." She would travel to Imperial-held worlds, with their permission, and "abduct" the most oppressed population for her personal slave empire. The Empire saw it as a way to control the population and lighten the need for resources, but her plans were not as nefarious as the Empire believed. In truth, she rescued and relocated those members of the population to Oon where she would also set them up with a homestead. In return, they would mine and process the local ores for sales to the Empire (at a marked up rate) as well as to the Rebellion (at a marked down rate).

I asked her why she did it and was rewarded with the same melodic laughter. The scent of sandalwood and cinnamon was also getting stronger in the room; either that or the wine was more intoxicating than I first thought. She explained that it came about after a slave uprising. A Mandalorian girl instigated it and then gave her contact information to someone that could help her and she could help to make a difference.

MaDall then asked me why I left the Imperial service. It was a back and forth with questions for quite a while, and one refill of the wine. I wasn't even paying attention to the time because I was completely lost in the sound of her voice, those golden eyes, and the intoxicating smell that was only getting stronger. It wasn't until a beam of the setting sun shined through the viewport that I realized how late it was.

I asked if I could use her comm station to contact the fleet to report in, the chrono on my gauntlet said I was an hour past when I should have reported. She smiled and said there would be a cost associated with its use, but we could work out the details later. I thanked her and keyed in the frequency for the Liberator, barely noticing her stare as I leaned over the console.

Commander Sato wasn't too pleased that I missed my rendezvous, but his anger abated when I explained that I made contact with a sympathetic planet. He even smiled, which was very odd, when I told him that they already had ties to the Rebellion. He granted me permission to stay for the rest of the day, but to be back to the fleet before the end of my next shift.

I ended the comm and turned to see MaDall speaking with a human woman. She had dark skin and white markings on her forehead. MaDall introduced her to me as her second in command. I greeted her, but she looked at my uniform with distaste. She finished her business with MaDall and left without further acknowledging me. I didn't ask, knowing that not everyone liked the military, or the Rebellion for that matter. As she left, though, she looked at me skeptically, back at MaDall, and then rolled her eyes. The hatch closed behind her.

The sun set faster than I thought it would so far north on the planet. In the time it took for me to finish contacting the fleet, and be introduced to MaDall's second in command, the sunlight was only barely showing through the viewport. The majority of the illumination was coming from the dim safety lights on the consoles, as well as the random lit buttons.

MaDall unwound the shawl from her hesd and set it beside the half-empty bottle of wine. The lavender of her fur blended into the shadows and the brown of her dress gave her the blurred profile of a ghost. The last rays of light through the viewport ignited her golden eyes like a binary in the depths of space. I could barely make out her breathing through the gentle bobbing of those stars and saw that it was faster than before. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon had increased, too, but also had the hint of something floral.

The entire bridge felt suddenly cramped. It was like the jaws of a trap closing around a hapless rodent, and I was the rodent. I carefully suggested that we head outside to check on my wingmate and the progress of the homestead. She said that she was sure they would be able to get along without us. As she said that, I saw the glint of teeth and a sudden flash of movement.

It happened so fast that I tensed after she was already against me. I felt her breath warm on my ear and a purring whisper escaped her lips as she asked what I was afraid of. I was very aware now of the spiced incense and flowers. I cleared my throat and said that I wasn't afraid of anything, but my voice cracked at the end. She pressed her lips to my neck and dragged them up, inhaling the entire time before she whispered that perhaps I should be because she didn't play gently.

I reached up and gripped her shoulders; they were small and firmly muscled. I intended to push her back slightly to get some space between us. As a space opened between our bodies, though, she instead shifted her head too close to mine. She whispered against my lips that I was forgetting the price for using her comm.

I opened my mouth to ask what the price was, but nothing came out. Instead, MaDall took that as an opportunity to plant her lips against mine. They were soft and very warm, but her tongue was quite rough and almost abrasive.

I slid my hands to her upper arms to push her away, but they slipped over some kind of metal under the material of her sleeves. I reached down lower to grasp her arms just above the gauntlets, but she intercepted them and intertwined her fingers with mine, sharp claws tapping the backs of my gloves. She pulled my hands down and behind her.

I leaned backwards, intending to pull out of her kiss, but it only made her press her body tighter against me. She released one of my hands and snaked her arm around the back of my neck and grabbed my vest to as an anchor.

I tried to stand straighter and out of range of her lips, but that caused her to arch her back against me to continue the kiss. She released my other hand to pull herself up. Her legs wrapped around my hips and I naturally grabbed onto her so she wouldn't fall, which was a bit of a mistake seeing as how I was now firmly grasping her seat. It was quite firm. She was much more solid than I first thought, and my balance was thrown off enough to make me pivot on the deck. It was only by luck that I fell into her command couch. Her embrace never wavered even once.

I'm not normally one to pull away from the embrace of an attractive sentient, especially not one that is so insistent on embracing me and smelled so intoxicating. However, my mind kept screaming that there was something wrong with the entire situation. It could have been a trap, it could have been a distraction, or it could even have been an attack. All I knew was that there was a woman of a moderately compatible species moving faster than I did at a Corellian night club. But I didn't really have any say in the matter since she found a new and dexterous way to keep going every time I tried to decline.

Eventually, MaDall ended the kiss. She stood and pulled me to my feet before reengaging. She stumbled around her chair and dragged me with her. I pulled back, giving in to the temptation that was screaming at me, in order to step around the deck and decided to take control a little myself.

I pushed her against the bulkhead beside the hatch and pulled her hands over her head, bracing her crossed gauntlets to the wall with one hand as my other moved down her arm and the side of her body. I removed my lips from hers and bit lightly at the cloth that covered her neck. She let out a purring moan and easily pulled one hand free, ineffectually slapping at the wall twice before finally catching the panel to open the hatch.

Her quarters were adjacent to the cockpit and were as big as mine on the Liberator. There was a small walkway between a dresser to the left and refresher door to the right, but the rest of the room was filled with only a bed. I guessed that I could stretch out in either direction on it and not touch the sides, it was that large. The lighting was still dim, flickering like sputtering flames, and there was a heavier smell of the musky incense than before. The sole blanket on the bed felt like some kind of animal pelt with long, soft fur.

MaDall's hands came from around my neck as our lips were still pressed together. I reached down at the sudden space between us and pulled my gloves, vest, and belt off. Likewise, MaDall dropped her dress on the floor beside them.

I kissed her again as she pulled my flight suit over my shoulders and I was barely able to kick my boots off. The fur of her back was soft and warm, the muscles firm under the fleece of her fur. I leaned my head down to her now bare neck and bit lightly again, her pulse quickening under my mouth. She nudged my head to the side and did the same, her fangs dragging hard along my skin.

I tried to pull off my undershirt, but the Tygerrian proved that her species was deceptively strong. She threw me backwards into the middle of her bed as she stalked up on its raised surface in a crouch. She indeed had metallic clasps over her slender upper arms, a halter that covered her torso but left her midriff uncovered, to include her furless stomach, and an even lighter skirt than before that was slightly translucent in the flame-like light. Her smile turned into bared fangs and her golden eyes narrowed with a feral glint a moment before she pounced like a predator upon its prey.

I awoke the next morning with the relaxing sound of rhythmic purring in my ear. MaDall was still asleep, wrapped around me in the dim light of her cabin. She had her fingers intertwined with mine between our bodies while her other arm was across my chest. She was pressed bodily against me and had a leg arching over mine with her face buried in my neck. She was gently curling her hand around the side of my chest, her claws pressing against my skin, before relaxing. She was kneading the blanket with her other hand, gently squeezing mine at the same time.

I carefully uncurled from her grip, taking extra caution to not wake her when I untwined her leg from mine, and slid off of the bed. I put my flight suit back on, wincing when the material came into contact with my shoulders. I picked up the remains of my undershirt, the back was torn and bloody from the Zygerrian's claws, so I only assumed that my skin was completely shredded. I slid my feet into my boots, grabbed the rest of my gear, and left MaDall's cabin.

It wasn't yet dawn, but I was completely awake. I was used to the ship's clock and this was about the time I normally rose, regardless of the previous night's activities. I dropped my helmet and other gear onto the seat of my A-Wing and decided to take advantage of the atmosphere. I had my starboard pivot mount completely disassembled when Thaema stumbled back to her fighter in her own "walk of shame."

After securing her own gear, she walked over to my ship with her toolkit and helped me lift the cannon out of its housing so I could get a little more in-depth in my maintenance work. She asked if I had a good night, a conspiratorial smile splitting her features. I flexed my shoulders painfully and rubbed at a couple of raw scrapes on my neck with a smile. She acknowledged by saying her too, though probably not with anyone that sported sharp claws and fangs.

We got my laser taken care of by the time the sun rose and began working on her port engine assembly. I didn't even hear MaDall walk up behind me until she breathed a good morning into my ear and pressed herself against my painfully raw back. I glanced over my shoulder to return the greeting and was rewarded with a fanged nibble on my lobe. It wasn't painful, but definitely chiding. I guessed it was because she woke up alone.

I excused myself from Thaema and let MaDall wrap herself around my arm, pulling it in close. She asked if I was planning on leaving without saying goodbye as she led me back to her ship. I told her that I would never dream of it; I just didn't want to wake her because I was still on my ship's time. She understood, but still bumped me with her hip and told me she might not have minded waking up with me. We ended up in the galley opposite her room.

She gave me some kind of bitter tea as she sat across from me. I reached out and took her hand in mine as we sipped it in silence. After a time, she explained that her species were attracted to bravery, which I exhibited when I agreed to meet with her the previous day in what could have been a trap. Beyond that, her species found it difficult to "control" themselves during certain times of the year and that I smelled very good. She lifted my hand to her lips and planted a long kiss on my knuckles while inhaling.

I blushed and pulled her hand to my lips, telling her that she smelled very good too. I let my mouth remain on her skin and felt the heat build as I saw her face darken with a blush. She said that I smelled a natural pheromone that Zygerrians produced when they felt attracted to others. I asked if that meant she liked me and sunk my teeth lightly behind her thumb.

She licked her lips and caught her lower in a bite under a fang. She held it there for a few breaths as if contemplating something. She asked if I enjoyed my tea, noticing that my cup was empty. I nodded, dimly aware that the floral spiced incense smell was filling the small room. A moment later, she swiped both cups to the ground. We both stood and embraced over the small table before I eased her back into it, her sharp claws digging into my shoulders.

It was close to midday when we left the ship again. We had tried twice previously, but it didn't take. The first time, we ended up somehow in the cockpit and the second time in the shower. This time was after a long and lazy cuddle in her bed, completely worn out by our previous attempt at escape.

I was still moving stiffly in my flight suit due to the deep gouges on my back (and arms, chest, and hips after this morning's festivities), but MaDall was kind enough to spray the wounds with bacta. The homestead was completely assembled and another transport had shown up with mining gear sometime since that morning. Thaema was with a small group of colonists doing something to one of the vaporators and the rest were using the gear to do something in the distance.

I promised MaDall that I would be back when my schedule allowed it. She laughed again and told me that if I took too long, she would simply abduct me and keep me as her personal slave. I told her that I might not mind being kept, but whispered close to her ear that I might be tempted to enslave her on occasion. She tensed for a moment, a shudder traveling the length of her body, before arching against me and kissing me deeply, catching my lip in her fangs for a moment before she pulled away. That drew cheers and jeers from some of the children, a few of the colonists, and Thaema.

With that, I collected my wingman and returned to the fleet. I was thankful that we didn't run into any problems, though. It was difficult to concentrate with MaDall's pheromones still thick in the air of my cockpit. It brought pleasant memories while in hyperspace. Also, there was the fact that I couldn't lean back in my seat without my breath catching in pain.

I got back to the Liberator and logged my flight records. I got a message from Serim with a stylized smiling face that highlighted the maintenance report I filled out. It was followed soon-after with a list of other systems to maintain if I ever set-down on a planet again. I saw from the attachments, that every pilot in the squadron had received a similar list.

Commander Sato accepted my report, though he was curious why I didn't have more information in it. I responded that most of the time I was just sorting out details with MaDall. I'm glad he didn't ask for me to go more in-depth. In the end, he told me that he'd be adding Oon to my patrol route at least once a month, with a stop-over, from now on. He said it was to ensure good communication with MaDall's faux slave empire, but also to act as a liaison and recruiter.

I sent MaDall the good news after my debriefing and she replied that she was looking forward to more in-depth liaising. The next time, she would show me around her main city and her private quarters which were far more comfortable than those aboard the Trojan. The idea was quite enticing, to the point that I actually thought what it would be like to leave the cockpit and become a permanent liaison. Not that it would work, as one Imperial inspection would blow the whole ruse.

I hit the refresher after the comm and ended up heading straight to the infirmary. I forgot about the fact that I had more scratches than a Nexu trainer. The 2-1B put bacta strips across most of the deeper gouges and an anti-septic syntheskin spray on the smaller ones. He asked how I received them and just shook his head dismissively when I mentioned they were from a Zygerrian. He then handed me a printed flimsy with preventative measures for relations with other species, specifically between Human and Zygerrian.

I grabbed a meal in the galley. I didn't realize how hungry I was until the first bite. It was the one thing I had forgotten to do when on Oon. Then again, I had other priorities when I was with MaDall. I finished my meal and ended up getting seconds in the way of some nutrient paste.

After food, I headed to the rec room to join in with the rest of the scuttlebutt. I got there in time to see Thaema with Ten, Eleven, and a few of the crew around her. Apparently, she hooked up with a Twi'lek named Calitor. As I walked in, she looked up and said in a loud voice, "but he's the one that was in the Zygerrian's bed the entire time we were on planet."

I glared at her and said she was lying. After a moment of that hanging in the silence, I smiled and said that for a time we were on the table in the galley, her command couch in the cockpit, and even the shower in her refresher. Thus, it was my turn to relate the events of the previous day. Serim also half-heartedly demanded to see my trophies, poking at the healing wounds through my flight suit and vest playfully. In the end, even Tensinal was impressed by the damage I sustained, suggesting an armored back plate the next time I allow myself to be enslaved or perhaps a set of padded gloves for my captor. I think his actually making a joke was more impressive than my wounds, though.

Even as I write this, I can still smell the sandalwood, cinnamon, and flowers. Part of me hopes it never goes away, but another part knows that if it didn't I might just have to become a permanent liaison.