Talon sat in his quarters, staring at the cold blue projection of a star chart that almost filled the room. The map was littered with his own annotations, notes of possible enemy patrol routes, sightings of New Republic craft, the location of enemy ships according to the reports they had been given before leaving the fleet, possible hiding places and potential routes home. But from the frown on Talon's face, he was far from satisfied.

He did not even look up as a chime sounded from his door. Instead simply saying.
"Enter." Without breaking his concentration. Jan and Chief Engineer Horton strode in, Talon seemingly not acknowledging them further.
"Staring at it won't change it." Said Jan, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"No." Replied Talon slowly, before looking up at his guests. "But I might see a solution."
"Why not double back the way we came?"
"They were waiting for us Jan, and I have more traitors in my care than loyal men. The Republic ships were tipped off. I have to assume they were given our route. We cannot afford to risk a double back." Replied Talon, with just a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"Then what is the plan?" Talon paused for a moment before replying, as if searching for a better answer but finding none.
"For now, we hide as best we can, shifting from anomaly to anomaly. Blind spot to blind spot. That is until you can give me some good news." He said looking to Horton.
"Good news?" Queried Horton, as if such a concept was a thing of the past.
"You getting the Harrier's main hyperdrive online, rather than just the reserve." Horton had to reign in his incredulity when he answered.
"It's a miracle we have the reserve working, let alone the main drive. Besides, even with crew from the other ships we are short handed. Repairing the Prosecutor and the Harrier would be a significant task even with a full compliment."
"And we can't get home on the reserves?" Queried Jan.
"We could Jan." Cut in Talon. "If there weren't enemy ships between us and the fleet. But to get past them I am going to need top speed from every vessel."
"We will get you the drive back." Assured Horton. "I just can't tell you when."

Talon sighed a little in agitation, reaching over to his desk and picking up the jagged shard of metal he had retrieved from the Resolve, he turned it anxiously between his fingers.
"Time is not on our side Horton. The Republic are using a classic search pattern. It's a classic because it's effective. I learnt enough from Aeron to know how to hide. But I also learnt enough to know we can not hide forever." Gesturing to the map Talon continued. "Even now Flight Lieutenant Revik has taken a shuttle to lay false ion trails to our galactic west. If it works it may buy us an extra day or two. But it is a high risk gambit."
"Revik?" Asked Horton. "I thought I knew all our senior officers."
"He's not one of ours. Formerly of the Elan. But after his home ship was destroyed I have temporarily folded him and the men of the Elan into the Prosecutor's compliment to replace our own casualties."
"I may not be a fly boy." Interjected Jan. "But I know if he gets caught in a shuttle, loaded with excess engine waste, he won't last long against an X wing patrol." Again, Jan seemed to be probing Talon's willingness to jeopardise the lives of his men and his tone of disapproval did little to hide that.
"You are correct Jan. But I have faith in his ability. The man has an excellent record." Jan just folded his arms. "Besides, he volunteered. As I would expect from a man as highly decorated as himself."

Jan remained silent for a few moments as his mind worked through the possibilities, deaf to Horton and Talon discussing the technical details of the Harrier's reserve hyperdrive capabilities.
"The solution is simple." Jan interrupted.
"Simple?" Queried Horton.
"What is your suggestion Major?" Talon was keen to hear this.
"Scuttle the Harrier, then escape at full speed." Stated Jan plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, devoid of any moral complexity.
"I have over thirty thousand prisoners on that ship Jan and.." But Jan sharply cut Talon off.
"And what? They are traitors! Are we going to risk Imperial lives ensuring their safety? We both know the sentence for their crime is death!" Talon's response was understanding but firm.
"Perhaps. But due process should be observed if possible, and intelligence may want a word with them before their termination." Jan however, was not quite ready to back down.
"We have the high value prisoners aboard the Prosecutor, that's all they need."
"It is not only the prisoners that concerns me Major. The Harrier is an important war asset. Our ability to produce these kinds of craft has sharply declined and many key facilities are in the hands of officers who resist the Director's command. If I can save the ship I will." Jan seemed about ready to interrupt but Talon did not allow him the opportunity. "But if the net is closing too tightly around us before the Harrier is ready. I will destroy the ship to save the rest of the flotilla. But not before I have to!"

Keen to drive home the fact that the point was settled Talon moved the conversation on.
"Horton. You may take the engineering crews of the other ships down to skeleton levels. I will ensure the other commanders cooperate. Jan, what is the status of the prisoners?"
"The Harrier is little more than a flying prison now. The traitorous crew from every ship have been segregated. The ring leaders are in our brig. Everyone else is in the Harrier. Locked down in hanger bays, crew quarters, emptied storage or the mess. Vital firing components have been removed from the shipboard weapons just in case. We have transferred compliments from each ship to help keep them under guard."

Talon nodded, it troubled him that so much of their strength had to be bled off into keeping the traitors contained. But other than executing them all, they lacked any alternatives.
"Jan. The traitors from the Prosecutor. Tell me that none of them were from the Resolve." Asked Talon, with something approaching fear in his voice. He felt an invisible hand clutching around his heart. To think that even a single man of his new crew was a turncoat was difficult enough. But the band he had trained with, served with, survived with? If their hearts were fickle, what hearts could be true?
"Not a man of them Talon." Replied Jan, sounding oddly reassuring, even sympathetic. Though it was plain to hear the hint of relief that even he felt at those words. It was a sensation Talon shared, as the knot that had been building up in his heart at that prospect gently released. Traitors in any form was bad enough, but the idea that men he had stood with in the broken hull of the Resolve could turn, such a notion threatened to undo him.
"Then there is little more to do for now." Stated Talon, refocusing his mind and rising to his feet. "We will maintain course until there are further developments. In the meantime, I will learn what I can from our prisoners."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Asked Jan. Before Talon could respond Horton added.
"Commander, I have to agree with the Major. Such things are best left to an intelligence officer."
"We do not have one onboard." Countered Talon.
"Then perhaps it is best left until we reach the fleet. With respect sir, an untrained hand may do more harm than good." It was rare that Horton tried to caution the Commander, and Talon could hear the sincerity in the man's tone.
"How have you reached that conclusion?" Asked Talon, genuinely curious.
"Because." Cut in Jan. "If what we have here are trained rebel spies then at best, they will feed you lies. At worst they will get information out of you!"
"Jan is right sir." Added Horton. "They cannot do any more harm from their cells. They can wait."

Talon could not refute their logic. He was a warfare officer, not an intelligence officer. He was entirely untrained for this sort of thing, and his past performance negotiating with the Rebels above Melvor left something to be desired. But there was something tugging at his mind, something he could not let go of, but that he knew he could not explain, not well enough. It was not really the spies he was interested in, it was the traitors.
"Your points are sensible, I will be careful. But time may be of the essence, an attempt must be made. You are dismissed gentlemen." Jan seemed to pause for just a moment, as if there was something else he wanted to say. But the man held his tongue, turning smartly and exiting with Horton, leaving Talon to his thoughts.

Talon did not pause to think for long. He could not ignore that strange compulsion at the back of his head. It felt similar to that desire men sometimes had at the morgue to pull back the sheet and look at the cadaver, even though they already knew exactly what was there. He was not quite sure what he would find when he entered the coldly sterile interrogation room. A leering monster, a proud fool, a defiant zealot. But a broken man was not one of them. Captain Greggor was unscathed, but utterly crushed. His uniform, once a proud display of strength and tradition, now stripped of its insignia seemed little more than ill-fitting rags. The soul that had given them power, extinguished. The man's face was as fallen as his shoulders, eyes staring emptily straight through the walls. Had this been another ship Greggor could have expected to be confronted with an array of cruel devices. But here there was only a table, two chairs, and his thoughts.

Sitting down across from the fallen Captain Talon tried to look Greggor in the eye, but the man's gaze always seemed to slip away.
"Why did you do it?" But Talon was only answered by silence, as if Greggor had simply not heard him. "Why did you do it?" Pressed Talon again. "Do not try to claim innocence! I have seen the security footage from the Intrepid's bridge. I know you gave the order to turn on the loyalists in your own crew!" But still, only a passive, mournful silence answered him. Talon checked the growing frustration within him, the voice that wanted to grab this man by the collar, haul him over the table and demand answers.

Instead, he simply sighed and leaned back in his chair slightly.
"You know what happens next, don't you?" Still silence. "I know you do. I know you have heard all the same rumours about the intelligence wing that I have. I know you believe more of them than I do. I know from our dinner that you are no fan of the Director. Who do you think I am taking you back to?" That got his attention. The Captain may have remained silent, but at least now he was staring Talon in the eye. "The Director will get any answers she wants. Why not tell me now and spare yourself that future?"
"Do you hear yourself?" Said Greggor at last, a hint of disgust in his voice. "Threatening me with torture if I don't comply."
"I am not threatening you. It is Intelligence that does that, at best I am relaying the message."
"If you hand me over to them, you may as well be controlling the torture droid yourself!" Spite and anger were now making their way into the disgraced Captain's voice. The last little bit of his spirit flaring into life.
"Women like her would not be necessary if men like you did not exist. Something needs to stand against men like you." Stated Talon, coldly.
"Women like her create men like me!" Greggor snapped, straightening in his chair. "Do you have any idea what we used to be?" Now it was Talon's turn to remain quiet, not because he was at a loss for words. But because he wanted Greggor to continue uninterrupted. "We used to be something honourable, something good. But a few years ago, something changed. And ever since the Emperor died it's just become worse. We fight amongst ourselves with ever greater ferocity, and ever greater callousness for the civilians swept up by it." Greggor seemed to deflate just a little as Talon sat there, continuing more calmly. "We lost the war Talon. I know most of this galaxy is still occupied by forces that call themselves Imperial. But we both know there is no such thing as the Empire any more, just warring states that pretend to be something they aren't. But the new Republic. They have a future, and it's better than the one the Director is offering."

Talon's mind turned slowly as he processed Greggor's words. His stomach turned along with it, to hear these things from someone who had worn an Imperial uniform and sworn an oath of service, appalled him. He was tempted to argue with the man, to persuade him that the Empire's cause was righteous, that there was hope for them yet. But he bit his tongue. What point would there have been in it? Greggor was beyond saving, even realising his mistakes and repenting would not spare him from the firing squad now. Fighting him would just have made the man resist, and Talon needed to keep Greggor talking.
"What was the plan Greggor, what was supposed to happen?" The man sighed heavily.
"I don't suppose it makes a difference now. You saw the Harrier turn, the Intrepid was supposed to as well. But we had some crew changes at the last minute and it all fell apart. Every ship was supposed to turn. We had senior staff aboard every craft who wanted to go over to the Republic. We had been looking for our opportunity. Operation Stillwater put so many of us in one place we had to try. When the two Republic craft came, we were supposed to transfer over without firing a shot, the whole battle group would have gone over, with only the need to subdue or imprison a few die-hard Imperials on each ship." Talon raised a sceptical eyebrow.
"What went wrong?"
"It started with the staff transfers, far more than normal. Some men where we knew where they stood suddenly vanished. Often, they were replaced with men we knew had Republic sympathies, we could scarcely believe our luck. But over time, there were more and more unknowns." Talon narrowed his eyes, soaking up every word.
"Still, as operation Stillwater began to take shape, we knew we could do it. Word was sent to our contacts to have ships ready to meet us, just in case. Then, at the last moment, an extra ship gets added. Yours." Greggor sounded almost angry at this, as if he were cursing whatever ill wind had blown Talon into his life.

But, defeated as he was, Greggor continued.
"We quickly identified a few men that we knew sympathised with us from your crew. But it was far from a majority." Talon briefly interjected.
"I am going to need names of course, and how you did it." But Greggor's response was almost indifferent.
"It scarcely matters now Commander, I am sure they are either dead or captured. As for how, it's just knowing the right people. And the right people are dead. More importantly, there were not nearly enough aboard this ship."
"Explain." Pressed Talon, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward slightly.
"There were far too few Republic sympathisers in your crew, particularly in key positions. Raylon and I had hoped you might see reason. That's why I had dinner with you. To sound you out." Greggor sighed deeply. "I don't know how much of what you said you genuinely believe. I don't know what's worse. That you really do believe it, or that you don't. But either way, it was clear you were not going to be joining us. So we had to use our back up plan."
"The mutiny?"
"In part. But no, the bombs. Did you ever wonder why explosives were not missing from your stores?" Talon had to admit to himself that he had not only failed to consider that, but that it had entirely escaped his notice. Greggor gave an empty, humourless snort at the few moments of silence, telling him all he had to know about Talon's ignorance. "They really did send a lamb into the wolf's den didn't they?"
"Need I remind you this lamb has the wolf as it's prisoner!" But Greggor shook his head with an empty smile.
"Oh I am not the wolf my boy."
"Then who is?" But Greggor just sighed and shook his head again.
"You'll see. One day." Talon was tempted to go rushing after this particular trail of breadcrumbs. But Gregor's evasiveness told Talon he was not about to get the answers he wanted. Instead he refocused onto more practical matters.
"Don't change the subject. The explosives."
"I brought them with me! Whilst we were having dinner some sympathisers on this ship were unloading my shuttles cargo. The bombs. I believe the plan was to mark them as simple miscellaneous parts on any inventory." The idea that Talon could not trust his own inventory, that he might have to look at his own trusted crew with vigilance, even suspicion, did not sit easily in his mind. The thought was uncomfortable as it took root, the rest of his mind fighting against it. But it did take root.

"If those bombs had managed to destroy this ship, your sympathisers would have gone with it. Did your comrades know you were sacrificing them?" Pointed out Talon, a hint of indignance in his tone. But Greggor remained passive.
"The blast would have crippled the ship, broken it. But not caused it to outright detonate. They would have had time to make it to escape capsules or just hold out until your craft surrendered. When the bombs did not go off, I can only assume they began improvising."
"And that was it then?" Questioned Talon, incredulously. "You leave with the rebel ships, hand over the craft and what? Hang up your caps?" He could barely contain his scoff.
"No, no. The Republic wanted service from us of course. I do not know in what role though. Trainers, advisors, commanders." Greggor gave a little shrug, the whole thing was academic now. But it was certainly not academic to Talon, whose voice took on a touch of ice.
"You would have turned guns on your own brothers?"
"I have already explained…"
"Not well enough!" Burst out Talon, but the utterly indifferent passivity of Greggor could not help but take the wind from the young Commander's sails. "For pity's sake man, at least stand up for yourself. Show some dignity! You were a bloody officer!"
"Was an officer?" Greggor seemed genuinely confused.
"When they shoot you, they don't let you wear your rank badges." To Talon's consternation Greggor gave an almost amused little snort.
"Huh, it's funny the things you don't think of."

Talon barely took a breath before saying with forced calm.
"There is something else you didn't think of."
"What would that be?"
"Your family. I have too much dignity to threaten them." Then Talon's voice slowed, emphasising each and every word of his next sentence. "But somebody else might." Greggor's response however, was rapid, showing a hint of the worry that lay beneath his dismissiveness.
"There was a plan to get them out. They are safe."
"Do you honestly think the Republic will keep up its end of the bargain, when you failed in yours? I can only assume you and Raylon promised them ships and men. You have delivered neither." For the first time a look of actual fear entered Greggor's eyes. A slowly rising panic restored life to him.
"No. No the Republic will know our effort was genuine. They will carry out the plan."
"Did they have this plan for the family of every crewman aboard each of the ships that turned? All thirty odd thousand of them? That would be one of the greatest operations in history!" For once it was Greggor's turn to be uncertain as Talon pressed on. "Or did you not pause to think of that?" He let the accusation hang in the air, it was one Greggor could only meet with silence.

Talon let the silence reign as the thought crawled into Greggor's head, the turncoat Captain's imagination starting to run wild with panicked imaginings that sharply contrasted with Talon's measured words when he eventually spoke.
"In any event, you would have made a deal with Republic Intelligence I'm sure. I am equally sure they are every bit as…. Pragmatic, as our own. It takes a certain kind of mind to work in that world, irrespective of your uniform." Again, Talon let silence settle in the air just long enough for Greggor to think, but not long enough for the man to reach a conclusion. "But let's focus on your family. A man of your position, I assume you have wife and children." Greggor just nodded as Talon continued. "They did not do anything wrong, there is no need for them to suffer for your crimes. And no, no matter what you do here I will not lay a finger upon them. But, if you are executed as a traitor your wife does not get your pension or benefits. Your children lose their special dispensations, privileged access to the best education. No member of your family will ever be hired to any position that requires any kind of background check. The news will get out, they will be completely cast out from the support network of military families. Cast out from society. In time they will come to place the blame for this where it rightly belongs. Not with the Empire but with you."
"They would never!" Began Greggor.

"Yes they would." Cut across Talon. "After all it is not like they are going to be told the version of the story you told me, where you betrayed everything you swore loyalty to out of some misguided appeal to a higher morality. I believe you when you say those are your reasons. I just think you are… terribly misguided." Talon held his tongue when it came to his true depth of feeling about the evil that Greggor represented, but it was a great effort to do so. "But they will only be told that you selfishly betrayed your brothers in arms and them. If it were up to me, I would give you the honour of honesty at least. But we both know it won't be up to me. You need to deal with that reality."

Talon leant forward on the desk, fixing Greggors eyes with his own.
"But if you cooperate, write everything down in a data pad including all the contacts on the Republic's side and how you did every step of it. I will put in what good words I can. It won't stop your execution. Frankly, I would not try to stop that even if I could. But it can change how it is recorded. You can be killed in battle, fighting off Republic traitors. Your family would still get everything. Nor will they grow old despising a traitor, but instead honouring a hero."

Greggor's face slowly morphed into a look of equal parts horror and appalled as the dawning realization that Talon's offer might be the best way out of this hit the disgraced Captain. Though Talon was a little unsettled himself at the idea that Greggor was just as horrified at Talon, as he was at the situation. In truth, if Greggor did feel that way, Talon shared his thoughts to some extent. He had just levered this man's family against him. True, he had not had the malice to threaten their lives, but what he had done was only one step better. Talon felt as if the temperature had dropped just a few degrees, his skin began to itch. Rising to his feet the Commander walked towards the door, keen to turn his back on the Captain not out of disgust, but to hide his own face. It dawned on him that he had not even thought about utilising the Captain's family. It was not planned or calculated, it was something he just did, as if it were instinct. If those truly were his instincts, he was not sure he wanted them.

"Get this man a data pad." He ordered the guards as he marched out, hands clenched tight behind his back. Almost without thinking he found himself striding down the corridors of the Prosecutor at a faster and far harder pace than normal. Feet moving almost as quickly as his mind. He was not attempting to wrestle with the details of the Captains plot. Even Talon's unease at his own actions fell by the wayside when confronted with the morality and implications of what Captain Greggor had done. He returned hasty salutes as he prowled his ship from prow to stern. But he found himself staring into the eyes of every crewman who looked his way, as if trying to gaze into their souls. Were they loyal, or were they a traitor just waiting for their moment?

It was only by the time that he had completed his circuit that his more sensible mind managed to wrestle dangerous instinct into line. He had to repeat in his thoughts, over and over, that these men had proven their loyalty. The moment of treason had come, and they had stood firm. These people were the crewmen and officers that he thought all Imperial servicemen should be. If he looked with suspicion upon those he had no cause to doubt… that way madness lay.

But there was one traitor that still plagued his mind Eleena Vervain, his adjutant, the woman he had already come to think of as the person he would want to groom for command. She had most displayed the traits of an officer that he admired, yet she had been the one to point a gun at his back. It was her betrayal, more than anyone else's, that caused in him uncertainty and distrust. When he entered her cell his stride was unbroken since leaving the Captain's. But she was an entirely different sight to that defeated shell of a man. Were it not for the removal of her rank badges he could have sworn she was on parade in front of an Admiral. She retained every inch of dignity, professionalism and spine he had so admired when first laying eyes upon her. But now it served only to stoke the fire of fury he was trying so desperately to contain.

"I know your plan." Talon began. "So why don't you spare us both some time and tell me your roll in it."
"Eleena Vervain, Lieutenant, 40-21-3-3- 0002134-V." But Talon just scoffed.
"Even after your treason you stick to protocol?"
"Eleena Vervain, Lieutenant, 40-21-3-3- 0002134-V." Talon was almost impressed with his disgraced adjutant. This is exactly what a captured Imperial officer should do. Even her hard, unerringly neutral tone pleased him. Had she not been a traitor he would have applauded her. Instead, such excellence now served only as a mockery, one that got under Talon's skin.
"Do you really think that will be of any benefit to you when we reach the fleet!"
"Eleena Vervain, Lieutenant, 40-21-3-3- 0002134-V."
"Is this all you can muster your tongue to say?" Palpable frustration crept it's way into Talon's voice.
"Eleena Vervain, Lieutenant, 40-21-3-3- 0002134-V."
"At least tell me why. Why betray everything you swore to defend?"
"Eleena Vervain, Lieutenant, 40-21-3-3- 0002134-V." He was about ready to slam his fist on the table at this display, it took every inch of his self-control to reign himself in and force a clearly disingenuous calm.
"You disappoint me. You more than anyone." He waited, waited for her to say anything, something! Something to explain herself, something he could use to understand all this! She appeared to be on the edge of explanation, a desire to say something. Until she opened her mouth and
"Eleena Vervain, Lieutenant, 40-21-3-3- 0002134-V."

Talon deflated for a moment, genuine disappointment over coming him.
"Then I must leave you to the capable hands of the Director and her staff." As he went to leave the room he lingered for just a few heartbeats, looking into her eyes for some hint of… something! But all he got was the cold dispassion of a professional sabbac player.

A strange sensation came over him as he sloped back to his quarters. One he was not used to. One he had not even felt in the gutted hull of the Resolve. Dejection. It was an emotion he thought he had left behind long ago in those awkward days when boys grow into men. But here it was, all the same. He barely even noticed as he finally reached his cabin and settled down into its sofa. His mind wandered from uncomfortable thought to uncomfortable thought. The hard, unchanging lights of the room giving no clue as to how much time had passed. Nor did he seem to notice as his hands uncorked a bottle and poured himself a drink, his conscious mind only kicking into gear as he stared at the glass in his hand. He didn't know how long he gazed into it, only that it was for far too long. Reaching for his communicator, he realised that there was one more person he needed to talk to.

The moment Lani walked into the room, it was obvious to her all was not well. His quarters were the same as she had ever seen them, Talon was dressed to his usual parade ground T, there was not a hair out of place. But where she would have expected to see a cup of caffa in her Commander's hand she instead saw a glass of cognac. Her eyes went to the bottle nearby, relieved to see that only a single portion seemed to be missing. She had seen far too many people find oblivion at the bottom of one of those things.

"What's wrong?" She bluntly asked the moment she heard the door click shut behind her. Talon for his part cracked an empty smile and poured out another glass for his guest.
"You don't waste time do you? Take a seat." He gave a sigh that was simultaneously relieved and burdened as Lani settled down near him. "Am I that easy to read?"
"Well, I wouldn't recommend you play at any high stakes sabbac tables." Before she added with a chuckle. "You can only bluff when someone is pointing a turbo laser at you."
"Ahh yes! The secret third option. Fight, flight and bluff!" Before adding a little more quietly. "But that last battle didn't involve much bluffing on our end."
"No, but that sucker punch you gave those X wings on Melvor did." Again, Talon couldn't help but let a little smile cross his face at the memory. But something behind it was less than joyful.

Talon was still staring at his drink when he heard the crack of pressure seals breaking. His eyes darted up as Lani placed her anonymous helmet on the desk. This may not have been his first time seeing her face, but it's reveal still had an impact on him. It was nice to remember the woman underneath. To see a face, even a smile. Something a little more human. Talon felt the great tension that had been building in his chest once more break as he looked at her face and fell back in his seat, the sensation was uncomfortable to say the least, but better than letting it build perpetually. He groaned a little with the effort, taking a sip of his cognac as his mind feebly tried to work out what to say.

"Seriously Talon. What's wrong?" She asked again, her voice softer now, a hint of concern creeping into her face.
"We are in a tough spot here Lani. I have more traitors under my command than loyal men, ships that are now little more than floating targets, no clear way home and a capital ship a garbage scow could out run." But Lani's response surprised him.
"If you don't want to tell me then stop so obviously moping about it." Talon looked sharply at her unexpectedly harsh words, his face demanding an explanation. She meanwhile, managed to look both kind and impatient all at once. "Our odds of survival were less than they are now when the Resolve crashed. You didn't act like this then. You didn't sit around with a glass in your hand practically begging for people to ask you what is wrong. So cut the bantha dung Talon. What's wrong?"
"I've barely had a sip!" He began, both in genuine protest and in an effort to inject just a hint of levity into a conversation that was already uncomfortably heavy. But no sooner had he said that, than Lani began to stand up, clearly unwilling to put up with this kind of evasion.

Without thinking Talon's hand shot out, grabbing her gently by the arm. She could have walked away easily enough but paused as Talon let out a small, defeated sigh. Slowly he guided her back down to her seat.
"I have tens of thousands of traitors out there and only a fraction of that number of loyal men. I had bombs in my ship. I had an adjutant I admired point a gun at my back. And I had a traitorous Captain as a guest for dinner!"
"You are worried that you are going to wake up to find a knife in your back?" She asked with an odd softness.
"No…. well yes, but that's not the core of it!" Replied Talon, clearly struggling to find a way to articulate what really bothered him. Lani was visibly confused.
"Then what is?"
Talon seemed to shift a little in frustration, like his body was struggling to express an emotion his words could not. As if to do something with all this energy he rose to his feet and pointed out through a window that was not there.
"I know how to deal with an enemy to my front, an enemy that wears a different uniform to me, that does battle with me openly!" Spinning around to face Lani his eyes were wide, his face seized by some spirit that was as confused as it was angry. "Even when they hide amongst civilians, running guns in civilian freighters, leaving bombs in a waste bin in a crowded public square. I understand!" And almost as soon as it had come, that feeling that bordered on rage flowed out of him, leaving him empty, almost beaten. "But an enemy that stands to my back, wears the same uniform as me, calls me brother and eats dinner with me. That, that I cannot comprehend. Even now, faced with it, relieved of the urgency of battle. It is as if my mind cannot register the reality of it."

Lani looked at him in utter silence for several long seconds, Talon could almost see the cogs turning slowly in her head. But in time, something resembling sadness, even pity, came across her face. Gently, she took his hands in hers, the comfort of the gesture only slightly muted by the impersonal touch of her heavy gloves. Slowly she guided him to sit by her side, like a rider might with a skittish horse. She kept him there, gently squeezing his hand as he calmed. Only when she could hear his breathing settle did she speak.
"You know what I was, before I joined the core. Even if you don't like to think about it." Talon just looked away at those words. She was right of course, he may have had some faith in her rehabilitation, but preferred to think she had never required rehabilitation at all.

"Despite what they say Talon, there is no honour amongst thieves. Even less amongst killers and spice dealers. The people who said they had my back, were almost as likely to rob me or kill me as our rivals, or the law."
"I can tell you're trying to help me Lani. I just can't tell how."
"I made it. You will to." She said reassuringly, but oddly Talon did not seem comforted.
"It's not just a question of making it Lani. These men aren't thieves and killers. They swore an oath!"
"The old killers made promises." She countered. But Talon was not about to accommodate the idea that he should judge Imperial officers by the same standards as under city thugs!
"They put on a uniform!" He insisted, his tone starting to become argumentative. Only for Lani's voice to rise to meet his.
"Do you think a piece of cloth changes a man?"
"Is that all this is, a piece of cloth?"
"What else is it?" That idea almost knocked Talon out of his own head. His thoughts went back to excitedly watching soldiers parade by as a child. The admiration he felt whenever he saw his father in uniform. The pride he felt at that man's deeds. The sense of awe whenever he attended a uniformed party as a growing boy. The certainty that they were all good men, bravely doing right in an ungrateful galaxy. When he had sworn loyalty at his first day at the academy it had felt as if he was making a vow to an ancient god. His uniform at the passing out parade felt not just like armour, but like a heavy weight he was proud to bear.
"It's a symbol, an expression of an idea, it's a badge of honour that you earn and it is a promise not just to the galaxy but to everyone else who wears this uniform!" But Lani's blunt, almost angry reply felt like a punch to the gut.
"Do you hear yourself right now Talon? Do you really hear yourself? Get your head out of your arse!"
"What?" He sharply replied.
"Do you really think." Catching herself she lowered her tone, trying to return calm to the conversation. "Do you really think wearing that uniform transforms the person who wears it? A piece of slime is still a piece of slime no matter what clothes you dress him in."
"Perhaps….perhaps." Like Lani he had no desire to fight her, and despite how appalled he was he did his best to even his tone, focusing on the comfort of her hand. "But the notion that men like that could ever put the uniform on in the first place infuriates me. But it is not what scares me."
"What scares you?"
"I was talking to Greggor, I've read his file. He's not some monster, at least he wasn't always. He has been in service since long before the battle of Yavin. He has commendations and medals to his name. No infractions or anything that would suggest a rotten core to his heart. Yet there he sits, awaiting further interrogation and an eventual execution. Even now he is no earnest fanatic for the Republic. Whilst I would never call what appear to be his motives good, they aren't exactly evil. Just wrong…. Deeply wrong."
"That scares you?" She asked, confused that a man who could take fire without flinching would tremble at this.
"Yes! His recent actions may be monstrous, but he is not a monster. He was a good officer. He wasn't a piece of slime that put on a uniform, to use your example. He was a good man, the kind of man that should have put on the uniform! And he still turned. That's what terrifies me."

Lani sat there for a moment, her face a mask of quiet contemplation. Though she had never put as much stock in the image and idea of the Empire as her Commander, she could not deny the weight of his point. It simply mattered far less to her. But she knew now was not the time to assault his conception of the Empire and duty, but neither could she leave him to let his thoughts rest on his final point.
"You don't know the man he was Talon." She said softly. "You can't measure him just by his record. If you had known him years ago perhaps you would have seen those little tells and giveaways that never make it onto a record. You already know this. Your practicing it right now." Talon looked at her curiously, the expression couldn't help but make her laugh for just a moment. It was an odd sound, he thought it felt gentle but powerful like a river. "If you judged me solely by my record you would have put me off the ship, or assigned me to the lowest rung of waste management. Instead, I lead your scout troopers. I was one of the ones you trusted with the plan against the bombs, you have confided in me. And now, in a low moment, I am alone with you in your cabin. You don't treat me like a convicted criminal Talon."

Even he, in his sullen mood, could not help but give a lingering smile at that.
"Perhaps." A voice in the back of his mind told him that Lani's answer did not entirely satisfy this crisis. But he pushed it down, it provided hope, a log to clutch at in a crashing sea. Perhaps it was not enough, but he would make it enough for now. "But you did something special."
"Oh, and what would that be?" She said with raised eyebrow and a coy smile. "Rush out into an open field under fire, foil a nefarious plot?"
"No, you brought me caffa on a very cold day." Her face instantly became a mask of mock offence that did little to conceal the humour beneath.
"Oh, is that all I'm good for? Well then." She stood up, dramatically snatching away the glasses of cognac and sealing up the bottle.
"Hey!" Talon protested, but his words fell on deaf ears. Instead Lani just went to the side and made up a pair of steaming hot cups of caffa. In truth, she wasn't just having fun with him, but also taking the opportunity to ensure he did not have alcohol anywhere nearby whilst his head was in this kind of space. An amicable, happy man having a drink rarely led to anything too dangerous. But a foul mood and a bottle, she knew that never ended well.

When she returned Talon let out a happy little moan at the smell wafting gently up his nose. Rank had its privileges, one of which was damn good caffa. Settling down next to him, Lani gestured to the space in front of her.
"Come on then. This problem of how in the stars were getting out of here. Talk me through it." She made a show of listening attentively as Talon brought up the holo display and explained the problem. But she barely understood a word of his ramblings about operational ranges, effective cruising speeds and patrol grids. She wondered if he even noticed as she leant up against him just a little. But she couldn't help but smile as the light returned to Talon's eyes.