Post 9

The riverbed outside Valdet's capital city sucked up the first drop that seeped through its moisture-starved crevices, barely beginning to satisfy its thirst. As the drops became rivulets, the cracked earth smoothed over, remolding itself, turning silt and clay into muck and forcing loose sediment down towards an L-shaped bend where it merged into the River Styxelin. This bend in the river was where a large amount of debris caught on the opposing shorelines and narrowed the river during the rainy season.

One of the main civil service projects of the city was to determine a clearing method, where all the extra eroding sediment and trash would be gathered and reformed into a large terrafirma project. So far a perfect method had no been devised, and it was up to Ghil Doan to supervise the current experiment. The organic sensory nets, which were, still in their trial period, let fish and mammalia through and stopped all unrecognizable pollutants. As a result, and in theory, the net would also keep the main source of water for the city clean.

From her observation tower built in the middle of the river, Ghil reached for her crackling radio just as a clear, cheery voice bounced off the walls in greeting."

"Evening Ghil. How are things looking?"

"Good K-Toe, as much as it can be being stuck in a three week shift in this rodianratnest. What's been going on out in the real world?"

"Not too much; did Camilo tell you the news when he came last week?"

"About Lady Elbereth's miscarriage? Yea, it's a crying shame--I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. I assume that's why she's been in hiding. It had been so long since she had been seen that even the sludgenews was depending on file photos. I almost believed that she was being poisoned…"

K-Toe's short inhalation was caught in a burst of static. "Not that Tristan--"

"Naw, he's a good man. I bet it's someone from the Senate. You can never take a rumor as full-truths. Most of da time half of 'em are true." A soft pattering against her screen caught Ghil's attention. "Hey K-it's raining, wonder if it'll be a rough night--with the drought it was getting to be a boring shift!"

"Yea, it's pouring here at the land office; at least I get to go home during the day and a sleep--the cots in the that cage aren't fit for a nexu." They talked as the rain began to pound harder. "I bet the runoff is going to hit you any moment now, our little tributary has been rising all day. How are the net's holding up?"

"All right so far, give me a few hours and I'll let you know." Ghil blinked as a light flickered on the panel. Needing to concentrate, she slapped the mute control on the radio and began messing with the sensory controls, and the light disappeared. Minutes ticked by and a flash of light from the land office, a few meters away and actually surrounded by land, flashed in her face. She turned the volume back up on the radio. "K-toe I hate it when you do that! "

"I gotta get a hold of your attention somehow--how are we doing?" he reiterated.

"I'll let you know when the dust settles, " the light blinked again, this time orange and flashing. "Hey look, I think we caught something already!" She pulled up the underwater grid that took readings from the net, and tapped the glowing affected quadrant.

"Anything good?"

"I'm trying to get a handle on the mass readings, whoa--looks like a large hunk of junk--I think we may need a team to go out right now, it's blocking a large portion of the net, it may strain its capacity."

"Give me a minute--I'll go, I love diving in the rain."

She could almost sense him smiling, "Ha! You just like the new underwater modules we got from Mon Cal. "

"Who wouldn't! Ok I'm going to go get suited up--see ya in thirty."

Thirty minutes later, she watched the small, but seaworthy, module dive just meters below her. It would be another twenty minutes for him to reach and examine the specific quadrant, so she turned from the panels, making sure that the mirror behind her would reflect any changes, and idly began flicking the channels on the holotape that K-toe had uploaded from the homebase. Raising the volume a bit she caught the lead in for the newest sludgenews report from earlier in the week. Ugh just what I want to see--Karoli Kantirn instead of Dominic Domitia.

The leggy, and sometimes daft multi-colored female Androison started speaking. "Here's the question of the day--baby lost, the lady isn't looking well--Is Tristan fit to govern both Valdet and Danshitie? Also the question on everyone's mind--Missing for eight days--where is Iker? Foul Play? Was his plan for 'change and the beginning of new order' too much?" The screen flashed an image of the separatist leader, Rafagr split screened with a very somber looking Tristan and a very frail Elbereth. Oh they're smart, they're implying that Tristan had something to do with it…Offworlders!

"Uh--G, we have a problem."

"You bet we do! That annoying ratfaced woman is implying that our Tristan did something to that back-stabbing Rafagr. Now I'm for interaction with the rest of the Galaxy as much as the next gal…but---" Ghil stopped her tirade as she realized that her partner had surfaced after a mere ten minutes. "Sorry, did you snag it already?"

"Yea,I did--Listen you better contact the Headquarters, I think I've got a body."

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If anyone thought the rain would clear the tense atmosphere on Valdet, they were wrong. Instead, like poison, it seeped into the walls tapping into all who were still unaffected, and those teetering on the edge struggled to maintain balance. Iker Rafagr had been found--his body mangled, burnt and scorched beyond recognition, but with enough genetic material to match it up with his profile in the senate database. He had been wrapped in the new unified Danshitie/Valdet flag, lighting the fuse on an already lost situation. Time was running out.

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Never have I felt so suffocated in already hot conditions. The thunder and lightening of Iker's passing fueled brushfires, uncontrollable, the water merely tears against an unstoppable foe.

I couldn't stop the Valdet Freedom Fighters from marching and rallying in my defense. I couldn't stop the Danshitie insurgents from protecting their own. How can I govern a planet when I have no entitlement?

Then there was Elbereth; our last hope from the Core Worlds had sent the blood analysis. According to the galaxy there was no disease, no virus eating away at my wife's body, but yet it was shutting down. We reconciled ourselves to her death, but in one last hope that maybe someone could help us, I wrote a letter. Elbereth, was beyond all aid, but our dream of peace was not. So when she asked me to ask the Jedi for help, there was no way to say no. Some time after I sent the letter, that day arrived.

That day--the day Iker was found-ten days after our Salya left us the first bombs fell, and Elbereth was lost forever."

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The confirmation had only been out for four hours when Tristan realized how silent it was. He hadn't heard a guard change in over two hours, and when he looked through the door to the residence, all he heard was the steady beating of Elbereth's heart monitor, and then a muffled cry outside the main door.

Tristan ran to open it, to confront whomever was talking loud enough so that the sound slipped through the heavy oak doors to his wife's recovery room, but he stopped as a moan from Elbereth made his bones stiffen.

He glanced back and saw her violet eyes, now tinged with yellow, snap open and with a clarity he hadn't heard in a long time she fearfully growled "Run, Tristan, run."

He started back towards her, to hold her hand, when she spoke again, pointing towards the door. "Can't you hear it? Run--" She was interrupted by a thump against the oak doors.

Tristan turned back and threw the open, and stopped shocked as a the barrels of five blasters swung towards him.

One of his honor guards turned to him, with undying loyalty in his eyes. "My lor--" and was cut short when a Valdet Militia guardsman hit him with a bayonet across the back of his forehead.

There was a standoff in the palace hall. Tristan could now understand the noises that they had been hearing. The honor guard must have thought the militia was coming to hurt them; they had always had a problem with overbearing attitudes against the Danshitie. Instantly recognizing the bodies of two Valdet guard members on the floor he glanced up puzzled once again.

"Stand down guardsmen, I'm sure the militia is just here to give me a heads up on the situation in the city."

"No sir, we are not." It was a young, fresh faced recruit with what looked like bright new double stars on his shoulders. "Valdet Militia has by orders of RN379084917 taken control of all Danshitie personnel who have culpable access to Tristan Romani. "

RN 379084917…..Oh Force…"Fine, but why attack your fellow citizens? " Tristan gestured to the unconscious bodies on the floor. Trying to hide a shaking hand, hearing the omission of his wife's name to the protection. "Answer me, now."

"Clearly traitors, my lord, they came to the defense of the Danshitie scum."

"There will be none of that here." Tristan growled, growing angrier with every passing remark. "That is not an excuse, it shows a lack of restraint. And these are my guards; they are trustworthy, Elbereth and I, Elbereth, who is also a member of my family, chose them. I believe in them. "

Ignoring him, the Militiaman continued where he had left off. "The senate has begun demilitarization of Danshitie forces--including all in the Honor Guard. In approximately thirty minutes the first wave of B3259's will reach Morodin Sanctuary eradicating all hostilities at the base." His voice grew louder as a roar of thunder came through the think marble walls from the storm outside.

"We expect retaliation. You need to move to your bunker."

Again the omission of Elbereth. "By whose orders."

"Military Governor Sian Arran. He has evidence of Danshitie involvement in the murder of Iker Rafagr, evidence that proves it was a set up to take over Valdet. Sir, you will accompany me now--"

The guardsman stopped mid-sentence and suddenly grew pale as Tristan felt a clammy hand on his forearm. He whirled around and caught Elbereth as she collapsed into him, her strength holding her up for only the trek across the room. "It's too late.." Her voice echoed throughout the cavernous hallway--"It's too late."

She pointed towards the window--"Tristan..I love…" He barely caught her in time to throw them both behind a marble pillar as flaming shells rocked the palace and capital.

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Hawkbat Station

Most people thought Wes Janson lacked the ability to have a serious thought. In fact, most people believed he had never had one single serious thought in his entire lifetime.

Of course nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, he liked to joke around, but there were three things that Wes would never joke around about.

Number One: For Janson, the mission was important. While he may try to joke his way out of a situation, underneath getting himself and his squadron out alive remained the highest priority. Besides, he also knew that humor often-reduced stress, stress that could get people killed.

Number Two: Janson was serious about death. A day did not pass where he did not think about those he would never see again. On Hawkbat Station, seeing Kell Tainer day in and day out, he never forgot those he did not want to kill, and those who died by his hand nonetheless.

Number Three: Something else Wes was serious about was his schemes, which while based in silliness and goofiness always had their place in the grand story. He always made sure there was the right amount of laughter, and heart; he never wanted to hurt someone's feelings--it was a pride thing. Just as knowing that some of his squadron mates did not understand him well enough to put some pride into their own schemes raised his curiosity. He knew Jade and Donos were hiding something. He could not, in good faith, reward shoddy workmanship.

Ah yes, Wes Janson was serious about Inyri Forge. He hadn't been sure or certain about how he felt until recently, but he knew --right now--that when she walked into a room, his days got brighter.

So maybe there were four things that he was serious about, but not many people knew about the last one just yet.

Wes smiled as he glanced down the hallway, still as empty as it was five minutes earlier. Slowly, he pulled out his doorkit. He wasn't being nosy, he just didn't think that Donos would have a thing for Mara Jade; it wasn't his style. Like Wes had said, it was a pride thing. The door opened with a swoosh, and in a cursory glance Janson smelled a set up. The holo by the tiny bed was Mara and Luke Skywalker's wedding holo with Luke Skywalker cut out of the image--now Wes was sure that something was up. Donos wasn't creepy, and that image was just…creepy. There had to be another holocube chip around here. Looking around he spotted the sniper case by the door. Moving slowly, and taking care not to mess with the order of the room, Wes slowly brought the sniper case closer. Picking the lock was a mission entirely of itself, but despite his earlier performances with doors, he was able to open it in a few minutes, and spotted the cloth wrapped bundle under the eyepiece. Unwrapping the bundle, he grinned as he saw the other chip. Switching it out he watched as the Jedi Master's image was replaced by one which caused Wes' bright triumphant smile to turn pensive.

He knew the young woman on Donos' arm, both of which were sporting matching rings. This woman had a smile that Janson had witnessed in person, briefly, before her death.

Lara Notsil, Gara Petothel, with laughing eyes and red hair in a holo that captured a moment of happiness in what Janson assumed was perhaps a lonely existence when Myn had to leave. The happiness in the snapshot did not hide the small worry lines. Nor did it mask some telltale features that would lead to Lara's death on many worlds if she were found to be alive. A small sigh escaped Wes' lips as he realized that Shalla, Mara and at least two of the other women knew the truth--and were afraid he would have to tell Wedge.

"We are getting old…" But there was one small hitch. Wedge had to all ready know. Why else the silent, almost lacking pomp resignation of Donos? Someone higher up was covering for him, making sure to shoot down any red flags. Someone who, while not actively impeding proper regulations, was skirting just around the edge to make sure the right questions simply disappeared. Why else would the New Republic be allowing someone of Donos' stature to just disappear without a fight?

Wes slipped the chip back in the case, and made sure that the room looked the same as when he entered. Solemnly, he made his way back to the lounge where Kettch and a few pillows guarded his supposedly napping self.

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Mara stood at her room's door and surveyed her handiwork. Earlier she had seen Wes settle in for a nap in the pilot lounge. With everyone else playing sabaac she had to make sure she was set for Wes' next prank.

Based on her Intel, Wes liked public pranks-ones that involved X-wings or large crowds outside private quarters. As a favor, Donos' R2 unit was watching the wing, which left the room open to attack. Setting the cans of paint inside the closet, she made her way to the mess where she hoped to be Janson-less for at least five minutes. Mara smirked and seated herself, starting up her datapad in the process. Wouldn't he be in for a surprise?

Switching gears she brought up some files that she hadn't had a chance to read. Luke would be on his way to Ryloth now with Lusa and Lowie's sister, Sirra. No matter how hard they tried, Skywalker-Solo's definitely remained in the thick of things. Hopefully, though, they could get things together so that when Leia was not there to take care of Jedi problems with governments--there would be some sort of safeguard. The latest data dump had included data on the Jedi of the Old Republic, the Jedi council and what information Luke had been able to recover on its connections to the Government. A memory flittered across Mara's mind.

"Puppets, controlled by their fears. The Jedi Council was useless; they couldn't control the darkness or prevent the Empire from rising. The Sith are the future….the only future…" Darth Vader had said that during one of their missions together, and as usual was punctuated by his regular almost cathartic breathing.

Sighing, the former Emperor's Hand pulled herself away from memories and stretched her neck.

"Do you ever get rest?" Hobbie dropped himself into the booth, placing a tray of unrecognizable mystery soup in front of him. "Whoops, was this seat taken?"

"Now it is, and to answer your question--what exactly is 'it' that I should give a rest?"

"You know--working. All the time I've seen you on base you've been working. Come play a hand with us! Swap stories…!"

If only he knew what I spent half the day doing. "I do stop working once in a while" Mara sniffed, "besides, this isn't work--it's, well, life."

Hobbie's face fell. "Oh it's Jedi stuff." Not to be dissuaded for long he picked up almost immediately, "Hey has anyone told you about Luke during the Rebellion, when he was merely Commander?"

Shaking her head, Mara cleared the datapad and placed it on the table. "No."

"Well, some members of the squadron used to talk about his 'disappearing act.' "

"His what?"

"Well it was something Luke would do--he'd disappear for some time and then come back to volunteer for the most dangerous and difficult missions. Some members of the provisional council even wanted to charge him with desertion--but how could you do that to perhaps the only remaining Jedi in existence? Eventually the stories got back to us--" Hobbie lifted one finger, changing his voice into that of a modulated newscaster.

"Today Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight got attacked by a Wampa Ice Creature, making members of his celebrated Rogue Squadron take time off to go rescue their commander, who by the way spent the night inside a taun-taun."

Mara smiled, "Yea, I know about that one; Han went out and nearly got himself killed."

"Ahh but there's more…After the Battle of Hoth he never met us at the rendezvous point, appearing with Princess Leia from Cloud City without any explanation. Mon Mothma sure was mad about that one, but anyone could see he was beat up about something--losing Solo, his hand and his commission may have been a little too much for that kid to handle. " Giving it a dramatic pause, Hobbie placed a hand on his forehead, "So yet again, Luke Skywalker dodged the bullet."

A female voice interjected, "Oh! He did it again after the Solo Rescue mission on Tatooine--" Shalla slid into the table

"How do you know that? " Mara looked at the woman curiously.

"Wes mentioned it a few years back. We were discussing secret missions in the Rebellion, and how some prominent members of the Alliance always seemed to go off sometimes."

Hobbie grinned, "Yea, by this time it was basically a matter of course. I think, deep down, we all knew that Luke was dedicated to the destruction of the Empire, so we never really questioned his motives. He certainly did his part in the war effort. When he returned from Tatooine, or wherever he had gone to, it created quite a stir. He just walked into the middle of the briefing room before Endor and immediately volunteered for the command crew for the shield generator shuttle. "

Mara smiled softly, thinking about how the events at Endor changed the entire course of her life. For Luke it had been an illumination of not only who he was, but what he was expected to be.

Hobbie saw a slight twitch in Mara's features. "Ahh and then there's the illustrious womp rat incident."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, I just realized that Endor might not have been the best thing to bring up."

Mara opened her hands in a wordless gesture, "Its ok, I was on the other side then, on my way back from a job--like Luke, Endor was a turning point. But what about this womp rat incident?"

Hobbie glanced at Shalla impishly, "Hoth, pre-Endor. Lets just say that Master Skywalker had just as much fun planning pranks as Wes does. Basically he beat Wedge at a simulation run that mimicked the run on the first Death Star, except as a joke the tube down which the missile had to be shot was significantly larger. "

"And Wedge was a little distracted. So, thanks to me, he missed.

"After a round of rations on him, we walked Wedge back to his quarters. Four hours later we hear this yell and slight scream of surprise coming from his room. When Wes and I reached his quarters, your husband, Mrs. Skywalker, was collapsed just inside the door with laughter. " Hobbie shifted in his seat and raised his hands in flourish.

"Picture this--Wedge Antilles, half dressed, the arms of his flight suit hanging towards the floor, upon which the biggest womp rat from Tatooine you had ever seen was attached. It was making all sorts of growling noises and shaking as Wedge tried to pull it off his body with no success. All the while Luke is just laughing and laughing with tears streaming down his face. It was so realistic."

Mara frowned, "It wasn't real?"

"Nope, it was something Luke had borrowed from a friend, refashioned to look like a womp rat, and then jury rigged a vibrating sound and movement system to make it seem realistic. Apparently Wedge had awoken to see just glowing eyes staring at him from where the toy had been attached to his flight suit."

Mara let out a short laugh, "You know, we always thought the Alliance was crazy…" All three of them grinned at each other.

Suddenly changing gears, she grew serious. "Hobbie, can I ask you about Wes?"

His eyes tightened, slightly wary. "Sure."

A low growl escaped Mara's throat. "It sounds as if I'm questioning his honor, but I make a point to not work in hypotheticals. If Wes had to choose between bringing an Imperial criminal to justice or letting them go so that they can live their lives making up for their mistakes, especially when the person has obviously suffered and made attempts at making up for their deeds--what do you think he would do?"

Hobbie stood up and moved around the table so he was standing directly in front of Mara. "Wes is an enigma, one I've had over twenty-five years to decipher. Wes will do the right thing--he's not a stupid man-he doesn't make decisions rashly. But don't try to trick him, because even if you do pull the wool over the taun-tuan's eye, as soon as he catches a whiff of a set up its over. The Game is up. "

Looking her straight in the eye, Hobbie continued. "Yes, I do speak from experience, Only Wedge Antilles is that devious."

Shalla snorted, breaking her silence, "Hobbie, General Antilles is a maniac. "

Mara smiled, still digesting Hobbie's answer. "I think that my husband would agree with that assessment. Iella is just as crazy."

Hobbie's grin grew, "Maniac's stick together eh? Probably why they're friends with two of the craziest Jedi I Know…" he trailed off as Mara glared at him, and Shalla lightly punched Hobbie's forearm. "Ok, Ok, I'm s.." His apology was interrupted.

"Don't worry, based on the plans I have for a certain pilot, I would agree with that assessment."

Any attempt to wheedle the details out of her was interrupted by the klaxxon alarms and the flashing of lights, ushering the pilots to the briefing room.

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The Emperors Plague Depot

The Young Jedi Knights emerged from the munitions bunker, each carrying a pack that held enough explosives to blow up a substantial portion of the depot.

As they'd realized what they were about to do, their lighthearted camaraderie had turned to grim determination.

When Bornan Thul narrowed his eyes, inspecting the companions, Jacen was worried the man might dismiss them as a bunch of kids caught in a dangerous situation. But instead, Raynar's father saw bravery there, and a dedication to purpose. He obviously considered them all, including his own son, to be real Jedi Knights.

Jaina dug in her pack to take inventory of the explosives, the detonators, and the space mines she had stashed there. "We'll have to find strategically vulnerable areas on the asteroid. It'll take plenty of explosives, carefully positioned at specific structural weak points, to bring this place down."

"We'll find the weaknesses," Tenel Ka said.

"Let's split up into teams, " Zekk suggested. "We can go off in different direction and plant more explosives in less time. I want to slag this depot and get out of here before anything goes wrong."

"If anything does go wrong, though, " Jacen said, "We'd better agree to rendezvous in our ships out in space."

…. Somberly, they went in separate directions carrying their explosives. Lowie trudged towards the central plague chamber, Em Teedee clipped to his belt. Zekk and Raynar stayed with Bornan Thul, who was still loading up at the munitions storage room, while Jacen, Jaina and Tenel Ka went off to disperse their detonators at structural weak points in the domes and tunnel junctures.

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Things weren't going well at the Emperor's Little Asteroid Disease Depot. While I was buried beneath rubble, the galaxy was fighting against a Twi'lek who with one turn of her hand, could destroy the entire galaxy. In that one depot there was access to all kinds of diseases. The Young Jedi Knights just beginning their heroic journey had yet to mature, but still they faced the Diversity Alliance's henchman with honor and valor saving the galaxy in the process…at least for a little while.

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Surrounded by hundreds of liters of concentrated death, Nolaa Tarkona experienced the thrill of long anticipation, the payoff of years of searching. At last she had a weapon to exterminate the human vermin for all time. Then alien races could be free. They could work together. They could reclaim their stolen worlds and live with all the glory they were meant to have.

As she stood among the transparisteel containers, she breathed the oh-so-clean-smelling air, sterilized and disinfected. But she knew something was terribly wrong. The sealed door had already been opened, and her guards scoured the plague chamber, searching for evidence of sabotage. They had shouted in outrage when they found dozens of incinerators and thermal detonators strung together, planted at strategic points.

Nolaa moved to the center of the room and found the control box. She could smell Wookiee in the air and she knew that Lowbacca, one of the great traitors to the Diversity Alliance, had been here already. He wanted to destroy this stockpile in the war for alien freedom.

With her rose-quartz eyes, she studied the control box now that she had disconnected the sabotage devices. Then she yanked out the remaining cables before tossing away the useless box. It made a resounding, satisfying clang on the metal floor.

…The little Jedi had been foiled in their plan, and Nolaa would bide her time. They would come to her. Then, with all the plague solution she would ever need, and with the human meddlers all dead, she could begin the great work of her life.

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Ryloth: Diversity Alliance Headquarters

It had been a day of useless wandering. The New Republic Inspection team had been taken on the Diversity Alliance's grand tour, through what was obviously a recently cleaned up operation. Unfortunately there was no way to prove there had been any wrongdoing before the cleanup. The visit to the mines showed only willing Twi'lek's, volunteers mining spice. It appeared that the Alliance had nothing to hide. Luke could tell that the delegation was getting agitated. As Senator Trubor decided to state what side he was on, yet again, Luke realized that he was thinking of ways that the good Senator could be made to shut up. Oh Mara, I thought I'd never see the day, when I realized just how much you've rubbed off on me. He set his face, hiding his pained expression. No matter how much Leia and Mon Mothma talked to him, he'd never be comfortable in the diplomats role.

He brought his mind back to the task at hand.

"I've seen enough," Trubor squeaked, putting his hands on his tiny hips. He perked his wide fanlike ears around as if listening for hidden prisoners cries for help. "There is nothing the least bit suspicious in all these tunnels. I, for one, must say that Nolaa Tarkona's concerns about human prejudice and intolerance seem to have a very firm grounding--especially with what the New Republic has demonstrated here."

Luke used his Jedi senses, but could detect no struggling human prisoners. He hoped that Nolaa Tarkona hadn't ordered their immediate execution upon learning of the inspection teams' visit.

"Is there nothing else we can show you?" Kambrea said.

"Yes!" Lusa snapped. "Show us everything you have hidden."

Luke turned to calm down the centaur female, understanding her frustration. He listened as Sirra suggested that they visit the loading dock, and almost immediately began sensing danger.

His senses prickled as Kambrea led them to one of the main shipping and receiving bays. Stacks of crates stood tall against one wall. Bulky alien workers and numerous droids lifted the crates, cataloged them, and loaded them into small transports.

"You see," Kambrea said with a gesture, "Food and medicinal supplies for alien colonies, settlement worlds the New Republic has abandoned."

Inside Cilghal stifled her annoyance. "Very commendable."

Trubor emphasized the point further. "The New Republic cannot help every world, though we wish we could. The Diversity Alliance serves a good purpose by assisting those we cannot."

Sirra growled curiously as she strode over to the wall of crates. Luke watched her carefully. The Wookiee seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

"I hope you're satisfied," Kambrea said, intent on Trubor. "There's nothing to warrant the treatment we have received. We trust you'll return to your New Republic and report our displeasure to your government."

Sirra gave a challenging bellow. As everyone turned to look, she balled her furry fist and punched in the side of a supply crate marked Fragile: Medicinal Supplies--urgent. The container split open.

Kambrea yelped in astonishment and Sirra stood back as the crate cracked, groaned, and then spilled packaged blaster power -packs and handheld laser rifles out onto the floor. In that instant Luke knew that this diplomatic situation had just lost whatever semblance of organization from before. Sensing danger he began looking for defensible positions.

At that point, all chaos broke loose.

End Post 9

Credit: This is where it is essential that you recognize the work of KJA and RM. This post has two principle sections which, for the most part are all of their words--just cut so that I could get across the intensity of the situation. They did a fantastic job in getting the mindset and the events of the Emperor's Plague depot across. The first section involving the kids removing munitions is from pp83-84 of The Emperor's Plague while the Nolaa Tarkona section is from pp 137-139. The section with The Diversity Alliance on Hoth, is also from TEP, but I added sections to reflect more of Luke's inner thoughts and feelings.

I realized that the section dividers (the tilda's) weren't showing up after Post 8, so I've replaced them with repeating x's.