Lieutenant Dalven Kyrell sat in his bunk reading. It took two shifts and sacrificing several ales worth of credits to convince his bunkmates to leave and give him privacy for an "equalizer" – a long nap to make up for lost sleep.

"Two hours, Dalven. That buys you two hours," Ash, the roommate Dalven actually liked, announced.

"Unless those pretty nurses from the Med Bay are around – then it might be longer. Ash has a big crush." That was Persier, the roommate Dalven daydreamed about. His favorite fantasy: A hundred ways to make your roommate disappear.

"Persier, you Lizard Monkey, Ash is a man – not a boy. Men do not get crushes on women. Men develop a curiosity for a woman that requires more: more talking, more time, more intimacy to satisfy that curiosity. Of course, being an emotionally stunted human you are, this leaves you completely unaware of these things, which is why you have yet to score a kiss in the past 8 years, let alone –"

The door slid closed and Dalven looked down from his bunk to see Ash staring up at him, hands on his hips. "Really, Dalven. Do you want the poor guy to shoot himself right out of an airlock?"

"Do I have to answer? I wouldn't want to ruin your positive impression of me."

"Seriously, Dalven, lighten up a little. Sometimes I think being your younger brother would have been –" Ash stopped and brought his hand to his mouth. "I'm so sorry Dalven. I didn't mean to bring up Thane like that. How insensitive of me. Please forgive me."

Dalven was good at this act – the loving brother who lost his younger brother to a freak accident or suicide on Jelucan. He had pulled miles of special considerations, favors – whatever good fortune possible – out of Thane's "final flight."

"Don't sweat it, Ash. Just go have fun and give me some time to catch up on things. They've had me pulling double shifts with the Commander in the Med Bay. I'm beat."

"You got it. In fact, I'll throw in a few more ales to give you a couple extra hours at least. Again, I'm sorry for being insensitive." Ash left the room and Dalven had to smile. Even when I don't try, the gifts keep on giving.

As he pulled out the Commander's journal, a random thought entered his head. He had to be careful around his parents with his commenting. Even his dad nearly dislocated his jaw when he used a "disrespectful" comment – last flight, final flight, or something like that - when Dalven went home for the funeral. His mother ran out of the room crying. After 2-1/2 decades of ignoring her children, suddenly their mother noticed her son after he jumps off a cliff. Dalven thought it was possible he had more of his mother in him that he had thought. She may have been playing up the sympathies to gain some advantage in some way Dalven was unaware.

"Thank the stars I don't ever have to come back to this upside down rock," Dalven said out loud. He had no intentions to change that sentiment unless there was some serious financial benefit attached to it. Like, say, a Will.

Returning to the present. He flipped open the Journal, but started at the beginning. It was quite a surprise that Nash began his Journal during his time at the Academy. It was a fairly heavy, voluminous book. Dalven had heard that some cultures, like those on Alderaan, valued the recording of personal subject matter in writing. They even included this in their teachings. He forgot who told him this or why, but it seems it was true as he was holding the result in his hands. Dalven began to read.

The first pages were dribble – being shocked at the number of new cadets, getting his uniform, meeting his first roommate, his second roommate ringing the door chime to his own quarters… The gathering, speech and mingling afterwards. Meeting the most beautiful girl in the world – A-HA! This is going to be better than I thought.

"Beautiful dark skin, ringlets of hair, chocolate brown eyes that glistened, and a smile so warm it could…"

"Ugh! Moving on!" Dalven declared aloud.

"I met up with Vos and Thane at the -"

Thane? Another Thane? Thane who? Dalven began to flip forward and back and sure enough, there were the words: "Thane Kyrell from Jelucan." Dalven couldn't begin to process the implications of this information, so he started reading at a much more furious pace.

Dalven learned that the beautiful girl was, of course, Ciena Ree. He learned that Ciena and Thane had a falling out and Nash struggled to support Thane while harboring deep, "almost overwhelming" feelings toward Ciena. Nash felt it was his "greatest test of honor to support his good friend while denying his own deepest desires." He had hope that in the future, things would change in such a way he could pursue his feelings for Ciena without hurting anyone.

Now Nash was on the Executor. Lucky him! "What was it with these people around Thane?" Dalven complained. "Ciena is there, too, while Thane is stationed on the secret space station. That's gotta be the Death Star." Dalven paused to imagine it. He kept reading and skimmed to make headway: Nash watches the Death Star destroy Alderaan, his beloved home world. Were it not for Ciena being there with him and steadying him to keep him from reacting and being punished for it, Nash would have "lost it in some measure or fashio

Then it gets strange – Dalvin has to concentrate to make sense of the next section of pages that followed.

"I was sleepwalking into murder. Had my attempt at vengeance not been witnessed and preempted by the Dark Lord, leaving all others unaware of what almost transpired, I shudder to think where I'd be – or if I'd exist to be at all."

Dalvin couldn't believe what he was reading:

"He knows my thoughts. He pulls them from my mind as easily as removing a toy from a box. At first the feeling was overwhelmingly uncomfortable. But as he began to take these truths and teach me the ones I needed to focus on to achieve a much greater purpose – to attain the previously unattainable – I've now begun to relish these sessions…

…Today the Dark Lord revealed my first gift to me. He brought a hooded man into the chamber. His hands were bound and he was unaware of where he was on the ship. From under the hood, I could hear his protests of innocence, and what sounded like crying. He was likely very afraid. This made me uncomfortable, but the Dark Lord sensed this immediately and I felt a feeling of calm wash over me. 'Now, my apprentice, you will determine the fate of this man who has been accused of sending coded messages to a world with a government known to be sympathetic to the Rebels. Begin.'"

"I beg your forgiveness, my Master. I am unclear –"

"Ask him!" Masters voice was booming, deep and mechanical.

Dalven fought the temptation to jump to the ridiculous conclusion that Nash was an apprentice of Darth Vader. The thought was ludicrous. There was another explanation and Dalven would unearth it the more he read.

"I proceeded to ask the hooded man, 'Are you sending coded messages to a world sympathetic to the Rebels?' The man vehemently denied this, and as he did, I felt the most incredible sensation of having feathers lightly stroked across every surface of my skin. It gave me pause, then Master spoke again.

'You must limit the amount of information you ask in each query. Begin with one fact. Try again.'

So I asked, 'Are you sending coded messages?' Once again, the man vehemently denied this. Almost immediately, I felt the feathery feeling again, but it was limited to the back of my neck. Master told me to proceed. 'Are you sending coded messages?' Denials continued and as they did the feathery feeling crept over my shoulders and down my arms to my hands and palms. I needed no prompting from the Dark Lord. 'I'll ask you one last time. Are you sending coded messages?' As he denied for a fourth time, the feathery feeling continued, but where it had began at my neck, it was replaced with a sensation of being scratched from underneath my skin, causing me to wince.

'My apprentice, you have now ignored the clear message the Force has been sending you. This is a weakness and a sign of disrespect for the Force. You feel these sensations because the man is lying to you. You will continue to question him, he will continue to lie, and you will experience the consequences of ignoring the Force when it speaks to you. Ignoring gifts from the Force can bring nothing but pain, loss and destruction. Now continue and learn this lesson. I dare say it will take but this one lesson and you will understand. You will never refuse to heed the power of the Force again.' I did as Master instructed, and he was correct. As I asked each question, regarding each part of the accusation, the repeated denials resulted in the spreading of the scratching sensation, then a burning sensation and, finally, pain. When my lesson was complete, Master asked me, 'Is he guilty?'

I responded, 'Yes, he surely is guilty.' My fear that I would witness the death of this man, a man I did not know and could not see for his being hooded, was overwhelming me. I felt like vomiting and had collapsed on the floor from exhaustion as the burning sensations receded slowly. 'Master, what will happen to this man?'

The Dark Lord replied, 'Nothing.' I was confused, and said this to my Master.

He replied, 'This man is indeed sending communications to a world that sympathizes with the Rebellion. He is doing so on behalf of the Empire. He is not a traitor or a spy for the Rebellion. He is a loyal servant of the Emperor. This did not mean he was telling the truth, and he was instructed to lie regardless of the questions you asked him..' The hooded man was lead out of the chamber by Lord Vader's guard."

"Lord Vader!" Dalven gasped, then shrunk back in his bunk as if someone might have heard him. Commander Windrider was an apprentice of Darth Vader! Dalven began to rejoice at his good fortune in discovering the Journal. He knew it would be full of useful information. Dalven knew that information was worth more than credits or any other strength or skill a person could bring to the bargaining table. In fact, it could pull a reluctant party to the negotiating table against their will.

Dalven flipped through the next sections in which it was all mainly about fitting in his covert lessons with Darth Vader, his frustration with his Master refusing to tell Nash his purpose for him. He then came to a different subject altogether – Thane. Dalvin continued reading.

"I'm bringing Ciena the terrible news that Thane has abandoned his post – or appears to have. She will not take this well. I overhead from some of the other soldiers that Thane and the 'pretty officer' were kissing as he boarded the Watchtower. Thane would never abandon his post and leave Ciena in the dark. For Ciena's sake, I wish for this to not be true. And I do not want Thane harmed. He is on a Spice World. Things can happen in those places – he may be hurt or worse. I better get this over with….

Ciena refuses to believe it. She and Thane shared a holo the other night and both agreed they'd have to stick things out in spite of the challenges. She's speaking to the ISB officer now. Note to self: Hearing they share holo messages is brutal. Try to avoid learning these little details in the future if possible...

Ciena has been sent on a mission to find Thane. The ISB officer said they were short-handed in the aftermath of the destruction of the Death Star. If forced, I would admit I believe this is another of the Empire's tests. Ciena is certainly on the fast track for promotion, so it would be now they'd devise a challenge for her and see if she puts the Empire first."

Dalven thumbed through the next week of flight drills and Nash's lessons with Darth Vader. There was too much "good stuff" – he'd have to just go back and catch up with that. He wanted to know what happened to Thane. And he read all about Ciena's return, her report to the ISB officer, and how Thane had become so despondent he committed suicide. Nash went on and on about how devastated he was to lose his friend, but Dalven wasn't stupid. He knew the only thing on Nash's mind was becoming the savior for Ciena's broken heart.

Dalven was startled by the door chime. He hopped off his bunk, hiding the Journal under his covers, and activated the door control. It slid open to reveal a junior officer standing at attention. "Yes?"

"Sir, I have a message from Commander Windrider. He requests you to meet him in his office without delay, sir."

"Very well. Dismissed." The door was sliding shut before the young man could properly salute. Dalven was too distracted to notice. He was panicked at the thought that the Commander was out of the Med Bay early, which meant he could have noticed his Journal was missing. But, then, how would he have time to Journal as he managed the phalanx of issues, duties, and correspondence that awaited him? No, Dalven had a good shot at returning the Journal, but it would have to be now.

As Dalvin grabbed the Journal it slipped from his hands and landed on the floor. He bent to pick it up and saw four, large words at the top of a page:

"THANE IS ALIVE!"

Dalven's heart raced as he sat back on Ash's bunk and furiously read.

"THANE IS ALIVE! During flight operations we came against a group of Rebel pilots and during the encounter Thayne revealed himself over the com. The scum had the nerve to say, 'Hello old friend!' to me, as if it were a social meeting. I must say that my emotions got the better of me. Ciena was in command, but I could only imagine her reaction and the potential danger her shock was putting her in. I came close to destroying his X-Wing. Ciena got off some good shots. He escaped into hyperspace. I have to help Ciena through this. The humiliation she must feel. The betrayals that the man you love would fake his death then fight for the enemy. The friend I knew might as well have committed suicide. He is dead to me now anyways."

Dalven stood there, frozen. Somewhere deep inside of himself he felt something very foreign to him – relief. He figured he'd want any brother, even one as sorry as Thane, alive. Even if he never cared to see him again, Dalven wasn't a total monster. "What does this mean? Commander Windrider has known about this all along. Is THIS why he arranged my post with him? Was he vetting me for the ISB or was his purpose of a personal nature?" Dalven's mind was racing.

Dalven grabbed the stack of datapads and dusted off his messenger case that was standard issue for assistants and he never used. He put the journal in the messenger bag, and then stacked the datapads on top. Before leaving his quarters, Dalven made the decision that he was on a mission now. His mission could have significant implications for his future in the Empire. If he played this right, he could be giving Commander Windrider orders one day. If he played this wrong, he could be on Trash Compacter duty, or worse, a recipient of whatever dark skills Nash learned while under the tutelage of the Dark Lord himself. With all the risks he was facing as he pulled his plan together, the last was the only one that caused him to feel fear.

He left his quarters walking at a pace that was quite suitable for a devoted Lieutenant. He decided to slow a couple paces to avoid arousing any suspicion.