The following is the property of the Walt Disney Company. Please support the official release.


I knew I should've paid more attention to that girl.

Well, no. I didn't, actually. I blew her off for the big picture, but the devil is in the details and now I'm paying for it.

In my hands, I held a melted and smoking power cell. I could feel the Sergeant looking over my shoulder with a serious air of disapproval. Not necessarily directed at me, because he knew what happened, but neither of us had a way to prove it, so he was annoyed that I wasn't watching my stuff more closely.

"No points, Plite!" Sergeant Taro, a shorter than average man with a very stocky build was glaring at me as I turned to face him. He was also shouting, as was normal when a mistake was made. "Next time, watch your equipment and make sure the parts aren't faulty!"

"Yes, Sergeant," I replied stiffly. I took my eyes off my equipment to look at what Werner was doing for a minute and this is the result. I shouldn't have become distracted.

"Twenty push-ups! Now!" Sergeant Taro barked.

"Assuming forward position, Sergeant," I replied, doing as I was ordered.

After my twenty was complete, he walked off.

What was her name? Starts with an M? She looked very pleased with herself in the corner. She's been over there the whole time, so I can't just up and accuse her even though it was her machinations that caused my equipment failure. I wonder who she got to do her dirty work for her?

Wasn't Werner and it wasn't Ryder and those two were right next to me. Whatever. Not going to waste time going for the revenge play, which is what she's hoping I'll do. Instead, I'm going to work on identifying, oh-him.

Carp something was one of the few people left in our class since it's fallen to about a third of its total. He was my height with blonde hair and green eyes. He looked like the younger version of the guy on every romance holo-novel everywhere. Does not surprise me that what's-her-name was able to get him to do things.

Okay. Now that I've figured that out, time to make sure that he's nowhere near my stuff for future tests. That failure actually cost me the number five spot in the academy, the 'safe-zone' I had designated in my head for making sure I got into the Storm Trooper corps. I seriously doubt that Mir-what's-her-name is going to have the guts to try something herself. I just got to watch out for her minions and build myself back up where appropriate. I've come this far without engaging in petty sabotage, I won't start now.

Whatever, the project is failed, I was free to be as distracted as I want. Sort of. As long as I didn't do anything to look too 'lost in the mists', the Sergeant's wouldn't give me something to do with my time that would involve more PT.

Being in the top five doesn't sound that impactful with thirty students, but being in the top five when the class is only ten students? Now, that's impactful. It meant things. It meant you were a cut above the rest and it looked really, really good to the Corps.

You know, with how large the Corps is, I wonder if the other Academies throughout the Galaxy have lower standards? Does that mean that the standard of the rest of the corps, when I finally get inside the Storm Troopers, will they be significantly laxer than I'm used too?

That's an interesting thought. And a little annoying. I like things to hit a certain standard while I'm working with them. I mean, sure, I'm in the Empire and a lower standard is technically a good thing, but it could get me killed. I don't want to die just because I'm trying to further my education!

…I swear I'll leave at the first major atrocity.

Major. Like shooting civilians for no reason. Minor atrocity, which includes destruction of property and leaving said civilians to pick up the pieces is a minor-you know what, forget it.

I just want to make my friends proud. That's all I want. The Emperor can die in a fire and strung up by a wire, I just want to make my friends proud.

The Blaster Cannon Operation Class came to an end. Points were distributed and Mira jumped from place three to place two and Werner jumped ahead of me to place five and I fell to number six in the class. Not as bad as it could've been, I could've fallen to number seven but she didn't earn enough points to surpass my twenty-point lead.

I watched as everyone filed out of the class. I was the last to leave and we weren't given too much guff now. So long as we weren't doing anything dumb, we were technically on free-time now, seeing as this class was the last of the day.

Mira was talking with Carp, leaning against the wall. I didn't even spare them a glance and as I walked past, Mira started seething internally. Part of it was attraction, sure, hormones did that. But it was mostly her own psychosis. By ignoring her, I'm pressing her berserk button with predictable results. That was all I needed to get the smug satisfaction that she thought I didn't know she existed.

If this is the result I'm getting, I'm more than happy to just keep doing what I'm doing.

I was laughing internally, actually. It was everything I could do to not skip through the hall because I was making someone very, very angry just by existing. It's quite the amazing feeling, really.

The other students were going to the lounge to relax. I rarely stuck around or went to the lounge to play games during free time. I needed to meditate too much to keep myself calm and shed the stress that accumulated from each day. To be honest, I was getting really good at letting go of the stress and just existing. The most liberating thing in the world is taking the stress you're under and just throwing it away and enjoying the good feelings that come.

This is starting to get dangerous.

I knelt beside the Swoop bike I was supposed to ride through the course today and noted that one of the decelerator had been frozen in a stripe pattern. Just one of them, and it had been hastily painted over. The paint had frozen in such a way it was easy to break it off just by rubbing it, but the metal was visibly weakened with a white stripe being cast over it.

It wouldn't stop the swoop from braking, but if I tried to drift, it would blow and I'd crash into a wall. Thank the force that I was able to sense it before I started it. That just meant that I needed to inform Sergeant Iper of the sabotage.

…wait, there's nothing around here that would implicate that I did this intentionally, right? I looked around hastily and could not find either the paint or the carbon freeze.

She was standing watch as the others were mounting the bikes. I walked up to her and stood at attention. "Officer Candidate Plite reporting."

"What it is, Cadidate?" Sergeant Iper was a petite, bald woman with a faded scar running over her forehead. No one quite knew what the story behind the scar was, but rumors were that she was a commando in one of the branches of Imperial Military who came in contact with a rebel cell. She was also one of the 'reasonable' sergeants, in that she didn't raise her voice often, but she could freeze a man's heart solid with a glare and break them with well-placed words.

"I'd like to report equipment sabotage on my swoop, Sergeant," I replied briskly. "One of my decelerators was partially frozen with carbonite."

Sergeant got a deep frown. "Show me."

"Yes Sergeant," I nodded, turning on my heels and leading the way to my swoop.

I knelt down by the decelerator and brushed more of the brittle, frozen paint away with my thumb. "They froze it in stripes and painted over it."

"What?" Sergeant Iper asked sharply.

"They froze it in stripes and painted over it, Sergeant," I hastily amended. Always end your sentences with the rank of the person you're speaking too. Even in the Junior Track, I slipped up on that and got PT'd severely for it.

"I see," Sergeant Iper replied as if she hadn't had to correct me at all. "What were they trying to accomplish during this bit of sabotage, Officer Candidate?"

"When I attempted to drift in the course, the carbonite would cause the decelerator to blow would blow and I'd crash into a wall, Sergeant," I replied, brushing off yet more paint.

"Do you know who's is responsible for this, Officer Candidate?" Iper asked.

"Yes, Sergeant," I nodded.

"Do you have proof?" Iper almost sounded hopeful.

"No, Sergeant," I replied.

She glared into my eyes. "Very well. Twenty points for spotting this sabotage. An investigation will begin as soon as I file the report. You are excused to your barracks until mess. Dismissed, Candidate."

"Thank you, Sergeant," I said, turning on my heels on walking off. It wasn't too surprising that I was sent to my bunk, I could've done the sabotage myself and she needs to make sure I did no such thing and…I think that might've been plan B, actually.

Twenty Points was more than I could've gotten for completing the course normally and I'm usually pretty good at Swoop Biking so…I think I just got handed a break. That's nice, actually.

Let's make sure there's no paint or carbon stashed with my things, shall I?

"Candidate!" Sergeant Ozap, who was talking with Sergeant Tyla, turned to address me. "Report!"

I stood at attention. "Officer Candidate Plite reporting as ordered, Sergeant."

"Where are you going, Candidate?" He asked.

"I was order to my barracks following attempted sabotage of my swoop, sergeant," I answered. I had nothing to hide.

"Very good. Proceed, Candidate," Sergeant Ozap nodded. He didn't even bat an eye. That's almost admirable.

"Yes, Sergeant," I turned to continue on my way.

I made it to the barracks. Azel and Sulliven's bunks had been empty for weeks since they had been removed. It's only attempted murder if you get caught, right? Right.

First, check under everyone's bed. Mine, Azel, Sulliven, Werner's. Nothing. Crack open my foot locker and…welp. She planned to get me caught as plan be. Sitting right on top of my clothes and toiletries was a can of spray-paint and can of frozen carbonite. This isn't good. I need to get rid of it?

If I recall from the reports I used to file, I have to get rid of these things within the hour before an investigation team shows up. I'm an orphan going against some bureaucrat's daughter. In a sane world, everyone would be able to see that there's no way I could've snuck these twin cans to the Swoop Track and then back to my quarters without anyone noticing.

This is the Empire.

I opened the door to look out the hall, seeing if anyone was coming. There was no one.

Okay. Some breathing room, at least. The most likely location they got the paint was from a supply closet two levels down in the basement. Perhaps the carbonite is there as well. But I can't go there without the cameras seeing me acting suspiciously. The only reason I can even move as freely as I can is because Werner's hack to the security camera in our room was still in place, giving the thing a random assortment of loops to play while we were inside.

Dude had guts, let me tell you. Or just an insatiable appetite for card games.

…but there is one thing I can do. On the floor under my bed is a vent cover. The vent itself dropped thirty feet to the basement. I could drop them down there, but if either can is damaged and its product gets everywhere, someone is going to put two and two together and I'll be thrown out. Even worse if there's someone like a maintenance droid down there right now.

Which would solve my 'I need a motive to hate the Empire' thing rather nicely since I won't be a part of it anymore, but I need to do what I set out to do. I need to get into SCAR. I've already put four years of my life into this, I don't want to back out now.

So, it's risk.

But…there is something I can do to mitigate it.

I can use the force to gently float the cans down there and then open the vent into the storage room. In theory. In practice…I don't know if I can. I've never levitated anything before. I've deliberately shunned that part of the force as too visible for the academy. But I'm alone, and that camera's been hacked.

But I have to try.

I grabbed both cans and locked the footlocker back up. I could still fit under my bed, but only barely. On my stomach, I crawled forward to the vent at the end and was thankfully able to lift the cover off. Thanking those before me who had things to hide, I gently placed it on its side.

Now for the hard part.

Close my eyes. Let go of the urgency. Of the fear. That's the first thing to do. Then to feel the cans, their contents pressurized and ready to explode. Then, let the force flow through me. At least I think this is how you do it.

Neither can moved.

Come on.

Please.

I've put four years of my life into this place. I don't want to leave.

No, no. Let go of that dread. Don't fall to the dark side, even though the dark-side would fix this problem guaranteed. Because it's quicker. And I need quick right now. Like…right now. Letting myself fall just a bit to ensure I get what I want.

It's just a bit.

I just need to move these cans.

I just need to not get caught with suspicious materials.

I just want to complete this mad quest I set out to do.

Come on…

My breathing was becoming heavy, which hurt in the confines I was in, as my chest tried to push me up against the underside of the bed.

The path to the dark side leads to madness. I don't want to lose my mind just to move a pair of cans. But I don't want to lose four years of work just because I can't move a pair of cans.

What could it hurt? Just never do it again after this.

It can hurt everything because if I use the dark-side to move cans, I'll end up, maybe not tomorrow, not a week from now, but I could end up being fine using the force to choke someone to death. That was a fantasy of mine before I died. A sick, dark fantasy that I thought about but never thought I could act out.

But I don't want that.

Would the cans even burst from a thirty-foot fall? Yeah. They totally would. These aren't made of durasteel, they're made of a cheap aluminum knock-off that would not only break, but make a lot of noise once they hit the vent cover below. There's someone down there.

Take a breath.

I need to let go.

Of this Academy.

Of the time, I spent here.

I don't want too. I've learned so much. I've become someone. Not a hapless writer trying to make his way by writing stories that may, or may not be of some quality. I'm a candidate to be an officer in the Imperial Military. I'm going to join the Rebellion and bring the war to the Emperor's doorstep.

I'm sixteen years old. My name is Jethro Plite. And…I don't want to fall to the Darkside for this.

I need to let go.

The Empire is…transitory, anyway. It's only a step forward the final goal. A goal which…is honestly in doubt, given that it would make Pyrus and Parter disappointed. Or at least thoroughly furious, combined with confusion at my actions.

Does that mean I…need to leave? Those who fail the Academy just go back to being civilians. I'm too far in. I need to stay. I need to fulfill my mission. I got to be the best soldier the Empire and Rebellion have ever seen.

I just need to move these kriffing cans.

Please let me move these cans.

Just let the Force flow through me.

They're coming.

I've been single-mindedly focused on this one task for so long. I almost don't know what I'd do if I failed. And I'd fail because of this one schutta who's mad because I refused to give her any attention. She tried to kill me and I'm the one who has to scramble to cover things up because she has political connections and I don't. It's so unfair. My life's work down the drain because of this!

…I think I've got my reason to hate the Empire. I imagine this will be one of many.

So, do I let them catch me and throw me out of the Academy? If I do that, where would I go? Tattooine? Find Obi-wan? Yeah, no. That's an entire planet. Even if I start on Mos Eisley, I seriously doubt I'll ever actually be able to find Obi-wan if he doesn't want to be found. Even worse with Dagobah, since there's no actual civilization I could start with. The only way Luke found Yoda in the first place is the Force giving him a nudge in the right direction.

FOCUS!

Just let go.

Let…the force…flow through me.

Just let it do its thing.

I grabbed both cans and positioned them above the vent. With the Force in me, my eyes closed, I dropped them. I could feel them going. But they were going relatively slowly. Just keep the focus. Don't interrupt the Force while it's trying to help me. Just…let it do its thing.

They clanked to the bottom and…maybe I can open the grate at the bottom? It's on a hinge, it's just locked shut by a lever-lock. It's just a small thing. Just push. I can do that. Just let the force do it and…the grate opened, and the cans fell to the floor. To any maintenance personnel or droids, the cans would've just fallen to the floor.

I hope.

I quickly replaced the vent cover and climbed out from under my bed.

With that, I re-made my bed, seeing as my shuffling's under it had messed up the sheets. I laid down on top of the bed and grabbed a datapad and flipped to the section talking about swoop maintenance.

Without warning, the door opened. I stood up as Sergeant Iper and several of the Ensigns on retainer entered. I stood at attention. "Sergeant Iper."

"Officer Candidate," She nodded. "Restate the events of what happened at Swoop practice."

"During my routine inspection of my swoop bike, I saw a paint smudge on the right decelerator," I explained. "I knelt down, brushed some frozen paint aside and discovered that my decelerator had been sabotaged. I immediately went to you, Sergeant, and I was ordered to my barracks. That's my report, Sergeant."

"Do you have anything else to report?" Iper asked with a frown.

"No, Sergeant," I answered.

The Ensign's were looking through everything. I mean, everything. My stuff. Werner's stuff, Azel and Sulliven's Empty bed and trunks. They searched it all. They were thorough. I imagine that Werner was a possible suspect.

"Who do you suspect of this act of sabotage?" Iper asked.

"Mira Targe, and her subordinate Carp Bastiell, Sergeant." I replied with a nod.

"Why do you suspect them?" Iper asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I have heard that Mira despises me because I do not give her attention," I continued. "And Carp is simply chasing Mira's skirt, Sergeant."

"Where did you hear this?" Iper continued her interrogation.

"Werner has warned me about it in recurring discussions, Sergeant."

"When was the first?"

"Nearly eight months ago, Sergeant."

"And the most recent?"

"Yesterday, Sergeant," I replied with a nod.

"Ensign Manag," Iper turned to face the Ensign standing at attention at the end of Azel's old bed. "Have we found anything?"

"No, Sergeant," Ensign Manag replied.

"Alright. Officer Candidate, I believe your story checks out," Iper nodded. "Attend mess when it's time and you will report to Destroyer Class Operations this afternoon."

"Yes Sergeant."

With that, they left and I heaved a great sigh of relief.

I'm seriously doubting whether I actually have it in me to go through this plan.


Final exam. Well, my final exam. Destroyer Class Operations. We were split up into two teams in one of the Academy's many hangars for capture the flag. We were given blasters capable of stunning targets and placed at opposite ends of a maze which had been erected.

The guy who actually captures the flag and plants it at our base gets 100 points. Given that I had fallen to seventh place, I need that thing badly. Everyone else gets twenty points. And I noticed that, once again, getting 'killed' didn't mean you didn't get points. You only lost points if your team didn't capture the flag. You also only got one life.

Making this more difficult was that this exam was merged with two other classes as their numbers had shrunk like ours had, so I didn't know how trustworthy they were.

I think, if I ever-once I defect, I'm going to do so by faking my death and donning a helmet, going around like the rebellions version of Boba Fett with an assumed name until the Empire's been toppled. There is no question of me defecting. None at all. Zero.

…I'm starting to think I need to get out of this whole deal. But I need to persist.

The maze was in front of us, assembled from what looked to be pre-fabricated pieces that reminded me of Tetris. The entrance was lit, showing a t-intersection going left and right. Our flag was outside, in the center of a metal ring which was connected to the maze in front of us by ways of a two-step staircase.

"Begin!" Sergeant Iper's starter blaster sounded and each of us, wearing the black uniform of the academy, ran up to the entrance.

Werner was on my team and someone named David, from one of the other classes was put in command. "Alright. Holly, Brunson and I will stay behind and defend the flag. Werner, Jet, you both take the left passage. Typer, Gyax, Cadre, Ryloss and Quip, you take the right passage."

We're the distraction and David's hoping to pick off the survivors with the flag so he can place it himself. Since it's technically not sabotage if the enemy is all dead, it's a decent plan, at the very least.

"Roger," I nodded.

"Got it," Werner nodded.

Down the left passage we went. Both of us pressed out backs against the wall and sidled to the side. The passage had led to a living room, with plants decorating the corners. Three couches sitting on a rug around a glass caff table in a U pattern, the underside of the pattern facing toward the far entrance. In the far corner was another passage going straight ahead.

"I'll take a position behind the couch," I whispered to Werner. "I'll shoot anyone that comes through here. You got my back?"

"Yeah," Werner nodded. "I'm not throwing myself at the enemy team with just the two of us."

I quickly ran over to the couch on the side of the room opposite us and took cover behind it's arm. From my vantage point, I saw another passage, this one running parallel to the tunnel Werner and I came down, but on the north side instead of the south. Mira's on the other team and I really want to shoot her. She hasn't tried anything since the sabotage stunt. I think she lost her nerve, but you know.

My ears twitched as I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Then whispers. From what I could sense, there were four of them. Four. Signaled to Werner the number and the grip on his weapon tightened.

"On three," I mouthed to him and begun counting on my finger. One, two, three.

I peeked out of cover and saw them. Two were in the process of moving from one of the corridors to the other. Another hiding behind the couch on that side of the room. The last was standing at the corridor.

Barely even taking the time to aim, I raised my rifle and fired. Nailed the two moving from cover on the chest and shoulder, specifically, then hit the one standing in the corridor in the head before ducking behind a trio of stun bolts.

I was heaving, adrenaline was pumping through my head, I could feel it in my temples. Wait, is he trying to get me by moving around the couch? I think he's trying to get me by moving around the couch. I put my rifle around the corner and squeezed the trigger, and was rewarded with the sound of the stunner hitting a target, then the sound of someone falling to the floor.

Making sure there wasn't any more following them by peeking over the couch, and then standing up to see that I had, indeed, caught the last one behind the second couch. "I got them."

"That…was amazing," Werner said, gawking at the unconscious bodies I had been responsible for. "You're a krayt, Plite."

"Thank you," I nodded. "Four down, six to go. I think we should keep our position in this room and watch for any of the enemy to come from that side."

"Right, I agree," Werner nodded. "…maybe we should wait if anyone comes down from there in case they can take out some of the guards?"

"Scared they're going to shoot us if we show up with the flag, huh?" I asked with a smirk.

"I prefer to think of it as preparing for the inevitable," Werner shrugged. "You want to move to the other couch?"

"I really like my spot here," I answered with a sarcastic grin. "You can take that position and I can watch our backs."

Werner gave me an... interesting look. "Alright."

He's thinking about shooting me if he can. That…is honestly depressing. I was almost hoping for another friend, like Parter was. But then, if the Empire's going to incentivize backstabbing, backstabbing will happen.

Speaking of Parter, I wonder how he's doing? I haven't even seen him running around at all. Is he still in the Academy? I hope so.

The sounds of blaster fire echoed from the other entrances into the room. It kept going, and going for several minutes.

"So, you think they kept everyone else back at the flag?" Werner asked with a frown. "We-you just took out four of them."

"I don't know," I said, the blaster fire still going on. "But I'm just hoping Mira survives long enough for me to put a stunner in her obnoxious face."

"If I see her, I'll let you know," Werner nodded.

The blaster-fire finally went down. Werner shifted his position behind his couch to looking down the hall we came from and wouldn't you know it, two of the other team came down the hall and the two of us quickly hid behind our individual couches.

One of them did a combat roll from one side of the exit to the other and it actually saved his life as the blaster bolts soared over him. I never thought I'd see a combat roll that actually worked in my life, but I have now seen it. He probably could've achieved the same result if he had bent over and run, but that is not the point. The point is that the unnecessary combat roll did something.

And it was getting very difficult suppressing my surprised laughter.

One of them went down, a stunner hitting him in the face. The other kept shooting one round, two rounds…and then went forward.

"No, no, no!" I whispered, getting up and sprinting to the exit.

I came to where our flag was being held and right as he was about to pull it out, I put a stunner in his back, and he fell over. The flag pole, which had a blue Imperial Flag hanging from it, actually held his weight as he slid down the pole.

"Alright, you want to stay behind and guard the flag?" I asked him, coming back around the corner and I suddenly leaned back to dodge the stunner aimed at my stomach. My own stunner hit Werner in the arm, causing him to drop the rifle and fall on the couch. "I'll take that as a no."

If my guess is correct, I'm the only one on my team and there's two on their team – one, now that I heard a blaster go off. Alright then. Sergeant Iper is watching from her perch above the maze, taking notes on her datapad.

Alright, let's go find the last person. It's probably Mira, she's the type to shoot people in the back. What a schutta. But alas. So I went back through the way I came and went around to hall going north. If my guess is correct, Mira's the type to wait for trouble to engage her on her terms, since she'd prefer to send others out into danger for her. Can you imagine if there was actually enough evidence to convict someone? It'd be Carp because he did it first and she can disavow any knowledge of the event.

I came to what looked like an armory area, will all of the 'weapons' locked behind metal cage bars and in crates. Multiple walls of crates that could be used to stand on for cover from either this entrance or the other one. I could sense Mira by the flag and it was her.

Like I expected. As I left the armory, I walked forward with my back placed against the wall. I peeked around the wall and went back to cover as a stunner, aimed right for my face, hit the wall behind where I was.

"Of course, it had to be you," Her voice didn't sound bad, either. "Of all the nerf herders in my class, the one thing standing between me and victory is-"

She didn't finish. My stunner hit her in the chest. She fell to the ground and I walked forward, plucking the flag from its stand. Then I walked back, going the other way back. I found Carp unconscious in a barracks area, draped over a bunk. Five on my team were on the other side, and I see what happened. The four on their team got lucky against our five and two got through. Then those two ended up moving forward, taking out the guards with one casualty and I took out the remainder.

I placed the red-teams flag alongside our blue one, and ended the game.

"Officer Candidate Plite," Sergeant Iper stood, hands folded behind her back. "100 points. Congratulations. You have secured the third-rank spot in your class and are guaranteed to make it into the Storm Trooper corps as an officer."

"Thank you, Sergeant," I called up to her.

"Do not thank me," Sergeant Iper replied. "This was well earned. Dismissed."


Author's Note: This chapter was very hard to write. I was trying to figure out how to justify Jet's decision to stay in the Empire once someone tried to kill him and I think that I managed to succeed. Let me know what you think.

I actually finished this chapter on Saturday, but FFnet was being difficult and I couldn't upload it. Sad day.

I will note that a game of capture the flag wasn't the best choice for a final exam as explained by several other readers on the forums. It was meant to act as a simulation and everyone in the place treated it as such, but I could've gone much farther than I did. So there is that.

Shout out too Michael White, the newest member of our circle of patrons. Welcome, buddy. Your presence is much appreciated. Thank you for your contribution, you are amazing.

Shout out also goes out too Melden V, Rohan Kirby, Hackerham, Jeff Potato, Anders Kronquist, Ray Tony Song, makopaulo, Volkogluk, Nepene, Aaron Bjornson, iolande, LushWF, Martin Auguado, Julio, Trevor Fuhlman, Tomer Zwighaft, keefe owens, Jiopaba and Valphrim. You guys are also amazing and have continued to be amazing. Thank you all for being awesome.

If you are interested in helping me produce more content like this, please check out my ! You'll help me out a lot, obtain my undying gratitude and get your name written in the Author's Notes down here, as well as a spot in the end credits as one of my favorite people in the world.

For those of you whom are reading this on FFnet, the link is www dot pa tre on dot com slash fulcon. I am sorry it's not in a better form, FF despises my links and I can't get them to work. Thank you for your interest and I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

Until the next time!

~Fulcon