"Just a bit more…" Omacar said, seemingly struggling at doing something. "And… Got it!" He shouted finally. He had been prying open a container that he had found in the forest days prior. "Now what do we have here." He lifted open the lid to find the contents of the small wooden box.
Inside was a triangular prism of some sort with markings that he had never personally seen before. Beside it was three small gems, each a different color, but with the same set of markings as the prism. He picked one up and winced as it burned the palm of his hand.
"Omacar. Do you need my assistance?" A protocol droid said from a few feet behind him.
"No C-7, I'm fine. Can you take this?" Omacar closed the box and handed it to C-7. "I need you to take it to my room and secure it somewhere. I need to get going."
"As you wish." The droid said as he turned and walked away.
Omacar stood up from his resting spot in the middle of the clearing. He had been on Solar for the last year with the rest of the rebellion. Throughout all of it, Luke Skywalker had not been there, and he was beginning to be frustrated. He wished more than anything to begin his Jedi training, yet deep in his gut, he felt that Luke would never get around to it.
Upon arriving at the rebel base, he felt something strange. Recently he had begun to sense things again. Luke taught him about the basics of it, but Omacar had always knew what it meant. In his past, when he felt the strange tingles go down the back of his spine, something bad was going to happen. He looked up and down the pathway but found nothing out of the ordinary. That's when he felt the screams of millions of voices in his head from a distant planet as the Death Star had surely just fired.
Kyla was sitting in the cockpit alone reading the navigation charts and checking up on the energy levels, when Luke walked in. She glanced up at him and smiled. "Were about to come out of hyperspace. You look like you've seen a ghost. Is something wrong?"
Luke sat down slowly. He felt the screams like he had felt them all that time ago in his X-Wing above Yavin 4. "The Death Star has destroyed another planet." He said with a grim expression on his face.
She looked at him with an almost confused look. "That can't be possible. Why would they do that at a time like this? The galaxy hates them enough."
"That's exactly it. They continue to assert their dominance because they know no one will test them." He let out a long sigh.
"Then I suppose it's a good time to return to Solara."
They dropped out of hyperspace and gazed upon the beautiful green planet. Three rebel ships were approaching. A red light appeared on the dash of the Comet and Kyla clicked it.
"This is escort lead 103. Please submit clearance papers."
Kyla sent them through as the escort team flew around guiding them towards their landing point. She was glad to be back, but if Luke was right, they were about to be thrusted right back into the center of the war.
Omacar awoke right where he passed out. All he remembered was the distant memory of people screaming in fear and their final calls for help. A single tear fell down his cheek as he began to stand. In the distance he heard frantic running and he saw ships being loaded near the end of the pathway. He sprinted now trying to return to the base as soon as he could.
"That's why we must do something!" Admiral Ackbar shouted at Mon Mothma.
"I know. We are all in distress about this, but acting without planning can critically wound us more than anything. I know planets are suffering, but we can not forget the task at hand."
"The task at hand? What 'task at hand' because last I heard our secondary fleet went up in flames above Kashyyyk, did it not?" A large man said from Mon Mothma's right.
"Yes, this is true, but it is not relevant-"
"This is the most relevant news we have had in a year! We are losing men because of our own unwillingness to engage the heart of the Empire itself, The Death Star." Admiral Ackbar shouted silencing the room.
The whole room was quiet now. Omacar stood at the entrance of the meeting room seemingly shaking at the words.
After a few moments Mon Mothma spoke again. "If you recall the last time we engaged their death machine, we lost thousands of good people. They risked their lives for us, and I don't want to lose any more good men and women because of our own recklessness." She stood from her chair and addressed the room. "We will consider our choices and make a definite decision in the coming week. Until then, find what you can of the survivors and shuttle them here. We will give them a home until further notice."
Omacar turned around and stepped out of the meeting room. He was baffled by this. The rebellion was beginning to split down the middle. Conflicting views would only tear them apart even more, and if the Empire continued to grow, the Rebellion would surely fall apart.