Star Wars: Remnants, Part Ten, PG-13

by mtruane

Terminus tires to sell World Devastators to the Senate, Rotta the Hutt tries to sell everybody everything and someone near and dear to Phon's heart is murdered right before his eyes. Roehmer turns to glitterstim and Jedi sorcery to brainwash the Alderaanian Senator and it is up to her cousin, Leia, to break her free.

Author's Note: The editors of the Star Wars books do a bang up job of interspersing story threads. For this medium, story threads are published all together. The story threads, happen, basically, concurrently.

Part Ten

Leaving Hutt Space, Outside the Space Lanes

Exos Lucius was very proud of his convoy, the finest in the Pyke Syndicate, led by the updates on his ArquitensB-class light cruiser, Sunder, a belly full of gunships and support ships. "Spice for military surplus on Nal Hutta. Then trade the arms for more POW's and kidnapped Beings too poor for the pirates to ransom. Pick up slaves, POW's from any number of worlds at war or pirates, trade them for Spice, then back again. Making money each time. But we have all those deathsticks now too. Where too now?"

"Cutting in sublight engines. Well off the beaten path as requested. No sign of pursuit. Destination, Boss?"

"Ah, the eternal question. I love that question. Don't you love that question, Lefty? Beholding to no one, no syndicate, no family. And best of all, if we don't know where we are going, the Alliance doesn't know either."

"Yeah. We got a pretty sweet, gig, boss. The part I like is when the slaves on the ship see their enemies being chained up next to them. Fools fighting for loyalty and honor and we clean up three ways selling weapon to both sides."

"I thought your favorite part was the females."

"Yeah. There is that." Lefty laughed. "Course?"

"Today, the choice is obvious. The run to Nal Hutta has been particularly profitable. Donna Fabrizia has filled Sunder's cargo bays with the late, unlamented, Don Cuneo's entire backstock of deathsticks."

"Yeah. No more auctions or lots of little baskets Cueno was always going on about. We buy in bulk like we always wanted."

"And we pass the savings on to our customers." The partners in crime laughed. "Seriously, only Coruscant has a big enough market all these deathsticks. Keep off the lanes. I don't care if takes an extra jump or two."

"Relay point reached. One more jump to Coruscant, system Boss. "

"Good. I've got out list of mid-level buyers all ready."

"Cutting in sublight."

"Contact! Dead ahead."

Exos ran to the window and watched a Mon Cal Cruiser drop out of hyperspace. And another. And Another, this time a Star Destroyer and they kept on coming like watching popkernals. "Stop. Stop! There cannot be this many!"

"It's the Alliance!"

Then a super star destroyer dropped out of hyperspace. "AW you gotta be kidding me!"

"It's the Megador!"

"No Sith, Sherlock! I told you to keep us off the space lanes!"

"I did. I swear."

"This is Admiral Nek Bwua'tu of the Galactic Alliance Fifth Fleet. Power down and prepare to be boarded. "

"Nek? Aw, you gotta be kidding me! Hard about! Sheilds up! We can still out accelerate them. Calculate the jump to light speed. Any escort not docked by then is ordered to fight to death! And let's hope we don't get hit with an ion cannon."

"Speaking of which why aren't the firing boss?"

The forward view window slewed from the fifth fleet to open space "Who cares? All we need is a minute in a lonely system to jettison our cargo of arms and deathsticks. It's a loss but not a ten year stint in a re-education camp. Speaking of which, prepare to jettison the arms and deathsticks! What did I ever do to deserve Nek?"

"I warned you the Deathsticks were badforce."

"Shut up!"

Just then, two MC75 cruiser dropped out of hyperspace ahead of the Sunder, side by side.

"And now we know why they weren't firing."

"How?"

"Damn Chiss trick. Those Star Destroyers transmitted ultra-accurate drop coordinated to those ships in front."

"We're bracketed!"

"No! This is good! Steady as she goes. Those..what? … Mon Cal 75s…are facing away from us. And the Star Destroyers won't fire for fear of hitting their friends."

"I dunno, boss. If we don't make the jump, we collide and fry. The 75's are not turning, just sitting there. Their engines are glowing hot. Damaged?"

"Nek finally overplayed his hand. Those tubs have all their guns up front. They'll will never turn in time. Mon Cal overbuild at the expense of maneuverability. Always a Fishface weak spot. Don't get between them, helm, tack a to port. We should have enough runway that way! All that..what's that streaming between them? Looks like glitter. Sensors?"

"It's…paint."

"Paint? Why would that be pulling paint off of each other?"

"Picking up massive tractor beam energy between the two."

The Mon Cal ship on the portside, slammed into reverse. The one to starboard keep is mains and aux engines into high gear. The result was the starboard MC75, used it sister ship like an anchor, it spun 180 degrees and cut loose with all its four heavy ion cannons.

Magnesium bright, crackling free ions jumped and ran over the Sunder like bright white fleas and asps, dissipating to the hull. Emergency lights kicked in on the Sunder, bathing everything in red.

"So close."

"So what now boss? We fight?"

"Do I look a Mando to you? We are Pyke. We don't fight, we litigate. Exos to all crew. We are dead in space and a murder charge will not help my case. I remind you I know where your families live. Keep your mouth shut. You will live and they will too.

Damn. Cracking the whip with cruisers. Gotta hand it Nek. Shows up with enough ships we have to run for it and then does that. One blast and we can't even jettison. At least we did got caught by the best.

This is captain Exos Lucius of the Sunder. We surrender and await the pleasure of seeing your warrant, Admiral. Lucius out."

"Speaking of which boss, how did her know where to find us?"

"Simple. We have a snitch on board. Someone looking for the LOMAR prize for tipping off our location, I just bet."

Admiral Nek on the bridge of the Alliance Super Star Destroyer Megador watched his Gamma boarding boats, escorted by B-wings fly towards the ship. He turned to his companions, Don Zolamines and Rotta the Hutts. "You are certain we will find deathsticks aboard?"

"And arms and slaves." Rotta let the Don speak. "The homing beaconis placed inside one of the Deathstick containers. Even if they jettisoned, they would return and you would have them."

Nek shook his nuzzle. "Too risky. They'd send flunkies to recover it."

"I bow to the superior tactical mind. Dirty business. Maybe now maybe my people listen to reason, eh?"

"Two eighths of the prize of four million and chattel. Not a bad payday."

"Feh. I light my hookah with that much. But Nal Hutta cannot hold our head up on the Senate while our leaders deal with this scum. We need to move on to real estate, holiday resorts, housing developments, boutique gin, where we can make real money.

"If you care to invest…" From under a fold of skin, Rotta removed a leather valise and deftly drew a folder and proudly offered it to the admiral. "Our prospectus! We plan to offer all-inclusive resorts, Hutt built, Hutt distilled, everything Hutt. We have four resorts in one, one for every stage of life:, trying to make a family friendly, family-friendly, thank-Draffut-the-kids-are-not-here-friendly and eco-friendly where you love everything but people."

"Printed in Bothan? I am flattered. Sadly, it will be a long time before the planets are rebuilt, devongified and our Alliance is ready for vacations."

"Yes. A pity. On the other hand, this the perfect time to invest. Ground floor, blasted ground floor, but ground floor, Haha! Perhaps phase five? Retirement resorts?"

"You cost someone a lot of money. Aren't you worried?"

"There is an old Hutt expression that applies. 'A small loan and the bank owns you. A huge loan and you own the bank."

"Ah! And the Bothan expression is , 'Comeuppance is a dish best served hot, in its own gravy.' Cannot say they will be missed, neh? I'll give this prospectus a look. Hm. Not bad. Insured…guaranteed only license and bonded workers?"

"Only Hutt Union Workers. No scabs. Even Hutts have limits."

"A new Nal Hutta indeed." He waved it. "I'll transmit this. to the Mrs. She in takes care of the money. I take care of the fighting."

"A worthy woman!"

"Very wise."

"Now if you excuse me? I want a closer view, but I can't approach until your ship, the Jewel ,is away."

The Jewel on route to Nal Hutta, Rotta, Don Zolamites

Rotta and his Uncle were enjoying a celebratory frog and swamp grass hookah while streaming death metal so loud it shook the bulkhead. It switched off.

"Incoming message, sir." The Harpan flight engineer Khet, a very husky mercenary who cashed in for steady work and bacta plan said over the intercom.

"On holo." The holotable spun green light shaping itself into an anura, on its back, with a pin it its heart.

"What is that, Uncle?"

"Humph. Kids. It's an old Hutt message. It means Donna Fabrizia sleeps with the anuras. It is safe for you and me to go home. Only true sons and daughters of Nal Hutta are in control."

"I will inform Sorran."

"A very clever human that Sorran. Playing us off by promising his Rejuvenators will build resort property wherever they go, giving us the coordinates or prime property ahead of time. It doesn't cost him one dime."

"We still have to buy that property."

"Just de-Vongiformed property? Sand on the beach. The fools are practically giving it away."

Coruscant, Jedi Temple, Secure Medical Floor, Sandra, Phon, Myri

Leia found her husband in Luke's quarters. "Han! Luke! Come on!"

The two friends followed out of reflex. "Where are we going?"

"Med lab. There was another attempt on Sandra's life. This would be lot easier if you didn't always turn off your commlink."

"My fault." Confessed Luke who was letting his sister lead. "I asked Han to turn it off while he told me about what happened at Jabba's palace."

"You tell him but you won't tell me?"

"The only reason I told Luke is because Rotta already spilled the beans. It's no longer protected by Muerte. I thought I explained about that. Wait." Han kept following his wife. "If it's a medical emergency, why ask for me?"

"Because of your expertise."

In the med lab the previous calm order was replaced by activity, guards were doubled and doctors and technicians hovered over machines, two groups of machines in particular. One machine against the wall, filtering blood and the transfusion station in the middle.

Phon, who had been a simple donor, was now on a gurney, taking in blue blood into this left arm, as well as sharing red blood out his right. Myri hovered on his left. Sandra dosed on his right.

Old friends, long in action split off. Leia to the grey haired nurse, Han to Myri, Luke to the chief guard on duty.

"Sergeant? Where is Knight Skywalker?"

"He left in pursuit of the saboteur. And sir, because the donated blood was suspect, the medics had to use the drained contaminated blood to keep her…and him going, push the blood around, you know? Now both have glitterstim in their blood. The new blood got filtered. It checked out safe. They are using it to replace the tainted blood but they say it cannot be rushed."

"I see. Thank you." He checked his commlink. "No message." He checked the Force. "Not in pain. He'll contact me with results. Sergeant, please request master Horn to the med level immediately."

"Yes, sir!"

Luke joined his friends. "Well?"

"Well, they've both been exposed for several minutes."

Han rubbed his chin. "That could be long time. See, before I went under, I was put through a cleansing ritual. The old Wookie shaman said it would draw out old regrets, like poison from a wound. If I didn't do that well…he made it sound really painful."

"You have no regrets."

"Maybe that's why it didn't have a hold on me. Chewie? His time as a slave really left a mark. He was new Wookie after the ceremony. All it did for me was make me fluent in their language. Maybe the cleansing is some sort of chemical safety net. Maybe it's that the glitterstim was processed and administered in the traditional fashion, not in some crook's cave. But I really think it's because I had my best friend, his family, the tribe, helping me, all in this sacred grove of red cypress. I think I should take you someday."

"The anniversary of his death?"

"Lifeday."

"Sounds good." She hugged him. "I miss the big walking carpet too. Liked hugging him better too. Warmer."

"Hah!"

"Han. About the pain…? I've seen glit-biters before. They don't seem in pain, just the opposite."

"That's the openness. It's telepathy. You feel one with everything. It starts out as psychological addiction. But they are just really avoiding their problems, which makes it worse. It's a downward spiral. That's why only shaman are allowed to administer it and in the right way."

"What way?"

"An enema. The traditional stuff makes you throw up. You see, between that and traditional processing …"

"We get it, Han!"

"Okay. The nurse says they are stable. What do we do now?"

"Corran's on the way. I can calm both their minds for now. IF I can shake the image of Wookie enema, that is! Anyway, that should help with the psychological addiction. Security should be taking the droid down to its nuts and bolts. Stay the course and hope whatever they experienced in the meantime would have lasting harmful effects."

"Han?"

"I can only repeat what the shaman told me and Chewie. Telepathy. Visions."

"Prophecy?" asked Luke. He voice had a dreamy quality.

"If you believe in that stuff, yeah."

Phon felt a pull, drawn like gravity. Then he was someplace warm. The sun burned his skin. He was by the sea. It roared and foamed beneath a ruddy limestone cliff. "Never by the sea and warm before." The yellow-green grass was patchy. Upland were walls and simple square two story house the same color as the cliff. He smelled something citrussy and sweet. It his right was trellis, the kind used to shelter benches, draped with vines of small bright yellow flowers, facing the sea. He heard voices and approached. "Promise you'll wait for me, Sandra."

"Of course, I will, Eric. Do come back safely."

Phon brushed the vines and leaves curled back like fingers, reacting to his touch. Sitting in the swing were Eric Roehmer and Sandra. They both looked younger, teenage. Sandra had her head on Eric's shoulder.

"Oh, Phon! You are just in time. Eric's going off to war. Eric's face was lacking the guile that the old Eric had.

Phon's hand went to his holster. It was heavier. Sandra felt real. Roehmer felt real. The cold metal of the old Defender Blaster of his days as a quartermaster, felt real. "Take a hike."

Roehmer smiled openly. "This is my world. I built it for her."

"Not anymore."

Roehmer looked like he was trying to remember where he put his speeder keys. "I'm not letting her go."

Phon leaned his will into the moment. "You will. I say so."

"My friends are gone." A long barreled defender appeared in his hand, pointed up. He smiled and the teen said flippantly. "I'm going to kill you one, day, you know that? I kill all my enemies. But not today. Soon." Roehmer walked away fading like smoke. "Coming, mommy!"

Sandra said smoothly "Sit down." Phon gave in to the dream. "This was Eric's favorite moment with me. I like it too…now. Nothing but warm breezes and surrounded by mimosa, my favorite." She looked down at the blood tubes connecting the two arms, hers and his. "I like you Phon. You keep me warm. I hate the cold. Stay here. Stay with me forever. No dancing lessons. No books…"

Phon was drawn into her. At first he looked forward to it, a chance to get to know her better, to share more than blood. But then the pull turning into a sucking, like is body was stuck thigh high in marsh mud, like the one time on Deneb with his assault shuttles.

Sandra's voice came from above. "These are my regrets. Eric didn't want to see them. Do you? See the people looking at me? Always looking. I don't mind you. But I know what the looks mean, what they think. I am pretty. I am rich. My life is easy." Like a holo, he saw her audiences, friends family, like ghosts, look at her, then turn away, the smile turning to disappointing frown. "Endless hours and hours of practice from mother. She thinks I need to save New Alderaan culture. Father sees me as Governor or Lead Deputy. I dance less than my brother, can I help it if I am better? I study less but get better grades than all my sisters, can I help it? Why do they resent me? But I don't like thinking about that."

Then he was back on the bench.

"Stay with me here. Nobody else. Just you. You understand? No cold any more. Nothing but the sun and the sea and mimosa. Why are you crying?"

Phon gauged himself. He sensed he had only one hand on the wheel. "We are going somewhere. Somewhere you told me about back on Corellia."

Sandra looked down. She was standing, dressed in fleece. "No! Nowhere cold!"

"You will go because you want to go. Take me to Maseta." The scene changed. It was a flat plateau, Maseta, her father's home transport. Phon has looked it up, simple, rugged, built just after the war, transports taking on and off and it was night. The air was heavy with fuel fumes. "Look up. It's cold. It's night but remember the stars? This is when you told me you first wanted to see the galaxy."

She struggled. "No! No! I want to be warm and smell mimosa!"

"That's Roehmer talking." He grabbed her jaw. "Look! Look! So what do you want? WHAT DO YOU WANT? A BENCH OR THE STARS?"

Phon felt like she was falling away from him, diminishing.

He turned and walked away. He opened his eyes. Myri was looking away, intent on something, distracted. He closed his lids just a bit. Between his lashes he dared so something he never dare to an employee. Her hair was black but not very black, like it was lightened by the sun. He liked the strong line of her jaw and her high cheekbones gave her an exotic look.

Sandra was drawing in. He could feel turmoil coming off of Myri in waves. "She's worried about me. She doesn't want to lose me. She loves me? I'm so lucky." Phon wanted to sip that emotion like fine wine. Then he was hit in the face by a stone wall of Myri's self-loathing. At that moment he felt carried away, to her. He wanted to and he didn't want to but he was there.

Walking among the war dead. Some she killed. Most she did not. The Imperial troops had been merciless, killing women and youngling where they hid, under cabinets, behind beds, burned beyond recognition, curled up in agony, ironically, the same position they were in their mother's wombs.

The Errant Venture: sitting at table with the Terricks. Bouncing Dotter's baby on her knee, Josie, Micki, making careful notes of Terrick's latest rumor/intel for her monthly report to Galactic Intelligence. Collecting her paycheck, knowing she had another waiting for her at GA Intel Bank. Dealing for the leviathans, making more in after-hours games below decks, fleecing smugglers, trading intel for debt, not caring if it got them killed as a snitch.

The smugglers den in space, so romantic as first, peeled back like a rotten onion to reveal the lie. Drugs. Slavery. Violence. Rape. Domestic abuse. No law. No justice. Just force of arms, primitive.

And every day, feeling more like a liar, a false friend. The stink of a smuggler's existence crept in, like mold.

Then the fight. Knife. Gaffi stick. No distance blasting, up close. Knife vs. club. Then she hid. Like the victims hid. Myri knew the shuttle's twin laser was coming. She took the beating. It was the fact Josie's body blocked the light that gave her the idea. "I can use her as a shield. Josie'll break free eventually. Have to grab her late." She counted on the doppler rumbling of the blast to time it. She forced herself to concentrate through the pain. Something moved in her chest. Bright light. "Now!" And as she grabbed Josie, and dragged her into the armored "C" of the operator's station, Phon knew it wasn't to save Josie's life. Myri knew Josie wore body armor and she was used it to protect herself and tried not the think of Miki, Josie's daughter. There, on the cold deck, she was curled up in a ball. "Just like the others."

Suddenly, Phon felt "shoved" to the gala ball and Phon. The scene of him telling stories to the table of kids played over and over in her mind. It was all she ever wanted to think about.

And then it was back to the Errant Venture.

Phon felt his consciousness "dragged" along as Myri as she tried to move through the bad memories away, like walking headfirst into a gales, towards the calm: the street racing, the dojo, coffee as she fed her insight about a world she had visited but he had not.

"Wow. I'm in a lot of them. We did have fun. Kind of what I was doing with Sandra. Common interests, keeping it fun. Must be a Corellian thing."

And then it was back to the Errant Venture and the guilt.

"Oh, Myri. I am so sorry."

In a second, he knew that shared regret was a mistake. Instantly, he fell. As a child, he hated falling. The doctors said he had nightmares of falling so he cried a lot. The treatments for his feet. He could not run with the other little kids. "That was the beginning."

Scoop was there, teaching him that falling meant energy for a climb. "Attitude control son, its' all about attitude control."

Then there were the long hours in the dry cleaners, the steam, the smell, the sweat, the sound of the folding machines. The deliveries. Working days. No time for sports or clubs like the other kids. Studying nights. Falling asleep at the desk, more kaffe in his blood than blood. His youth spent at work, or at school or in offices. Shirts, transports, books, paper. Youth, spent. Youth, gone.

Phon roused again. He looked right. There was Sandra, no make-up, in a paper hospital gown covered in blankets, tubes carrying her blood and still stop-traffic beautiful. He wanted to touch her mink soft brown hair. "She thinks I'm fun. Not after her money or to get her into bed." He concentrated. "And the bad news is…nothing? Huh."

He looked left and up at Myri. She still held his hand. Unlike Sandra, her hand was cold, strong, calloused. "And you, you love me. Me? You should be in love with a man of action, like that Jedi. You like me because I keep telling you the truth. And I'm cute? Okay. And the bad news is…all I do is see her as 'one of the guys' and she wishes I didn't. That's not that bad. A compliment really.

Sandra and I were more intimate than I ever imagined. Myri could be without regret if I got her some glitterstim too. What am I thinking? This stuff is evil! I should not have been in Sandra's head. That's Roehmer! Even if I did drive that last bit away. It's wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I can never speak of what I know.

And Myri? Only good thoughts, none of the bad? Glit chews off the regret? Leaves you nothing but good feelings? But it's a lie. The consequences are never faded. What did mom always say in therapy? "Est autem dolor in valorem. Dictarum curiarum. There is value in toil. Helluva family motto.

No wonder people are addicted to this garbage." Then he looked right and left at two beautiful women who cared for him. "I haven't had a bad life. Totally worth it to be here, with them. I don't deserve either one. Sandra's been here barely a year. She deserves to get her career started. Poor Myri, she's been through the ringer. She needs time to heal. She needs a therapist, not me. I'm not either one's answer. I accept it.

Shame, really." Like glass breaking in his head and heart Phon felt glitterstim's spell break.

"Phon? Did you say something?"

"You are beautiful. I hope you know that." Phon squeezed her hand.

Myri felt her cheeks burn. She looked up. Luke, Corran and the nurse were looking suspiciously away. Not Leia or Han. Myri didn't like the inquisitive raised eyebrows on her Uncle Han's face.

"It's the glitterstim talking."

"Uh-huh." Replied her Aunt, Leia.

Coruscant, Jedi Temple, Secure Medical Floor, Luke, Leia, Han, Ben, Corran, Sandra, Phon, Myri

After the tubes were taken out of him. Phon rested while he let the light-headed feeling leave. Myri let go of his hand and electric blanket was laid on his body. After a short while, he finally felt good enough to sit up. The nurse was right by Sandra's side. His movement caught her attention she gave Phon a reassuring nod. Somebody handed him a juice bulb.

In the corner he saw Myri and the young Jedi looking at a monitor. "Handsome couple."

Past his feet, Phon recognized Grandmaster Skywalker, Master Horn, Leia and a Corellian flyboy if ever there was one who must have been Han Solo.

"How're feeling, kid?"

"Weird. On my hind foot, but good, you know."

With a couple of fingers Han ushered the annoyed Jedi Master Horn over. "Master Horn here was helping you keep your head."

"That was you? Thanks."

"So, um…" Han looked around. Leia was talking to the security guards. "What did you see?"

"Roehmer. He said he built a world for her."

Han looked at Horn. The Master nodded sagely and spoke. "A construct of glamour, a 'lotus trap." Not unlike what Vader did to Utep, Wight and Tano. We've been researching it. Of course, Vader would not need the crutch of glitterstim to fuel the illusion. Create a paradise for the victim and when they can't live without it…and then the holocron says they will do anything to make it real."

"Will she be alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks to you and Myri. Doctor's going to be fine too. Security says it was a combo contact poison. The first part was delivered when he touched that Accident Woman's stylus, the second when he pressed the filter settings. Interior micro pumps were rigged for mechanical failure. No way anyone could detect it. Guaranteed fatal. Smart. She must have known a full transfusion is the best for glitterstim."

"Accident Woman?"

"Right. You want to see her, the Accident Woman?"

"Yeah. Over here, we have her on film, first time ever, come to hear it."

Curiosity gave way to sadness as Solo led him over to the same monitor where Myri and Ben stood. "What'ya guys doing?"

"Ms. Antilles is giving me a crash course in seeing through disguises."

"Really?" Han was intrigued. "Like how?"

"See here. Come over her Senator." Myri squeezed Phon between her and Ben, not noticing how he folded his arms in and held them there. "I want you to see this. This is the woman who almost killed you. Ignore the hair, the clothes, the accent everything. Focus on the gait. Gait means…"

"I know what 'gait' means!" Phone was sharp.

"Okay. Okay." Myri looped it. "There. Just as she enters the transport when she thinks no one is looking, bingo. No longer the delivery agent but a woman with moves of dancer. No one's gait is the same. She could be wearing Stormtrooper armor and you could still spot her in a crowd."

"She's a little short for a Stormtrooper."

"You get the idea."

"It's only a step or two."

"There's more." Myri froze it as the assassin entered. "Look at the bottom of her boots. Look at the wear pattern. See how the interior heel is worn away?"

"Could be used or borrowed boots."

"A big risk for someone who may need to run away at a moment's notice."

"And she did run away fast too! She wasn't out the gate a minute and she was gone, transport abandoned, reported stolen. Security's sniffing it but we don't hold out much hope."

Horn tapped Phon on the shoulder. "The Senator is calling for you two."

Phon and Myri walked over. "Don't look at her." Phon kept his eyes down.

"Phon, Sensei. My cousin, Leia, says that I have you to thank, again."

"That's two you owe me, student."

"Hai, sensei."

Phon noticed the electric blanket was set to 'low.' "Let me turn this up. I know how you hate being cold."

Sandra furrowed her brow. "That's right."

"You all right?"

"Just a little Presque vu. Eric did this, didn't he?"

"We have no…"

"Yes." Luke cut in. "And two very sick Jedi. I hope you'll forgive them."

"I'm not the person you should be asking. My father and mother are on their way. My father makes a lot of noise, but watch my mother. Oh, and cousin, please try and convince papa and mama not to anything rash. Papa has a temper and Eric's mother and mine have had claws out for as long as I can remember. This could get very messy."

"Old Alderaan stuff, huh?"

"Yes. Do we know why…" Sandra blushed. "besides the obvious."

"We suspect he might behind the efforts to infiltrate the New Alderaan Run. Your demands for a deeper investigation meant he had to get your out of the way."

"And he chose this? I feel sick. What did I ever see in him?"

"Leia's import-export program being used to smuggle drugs would practically ensure his election."

"Speaking of which, I've already delayed my next campaign trip to New Alderaan and Han you promised to fly me.

I'll contact your family via holo. It think it's safer that way anyway. Don't want Han and your dad in the same cabin when voices are raised."

"I heartily agree."

Leia turned and left at her usual high rate of speed. Han lingered.

"Out of curiosity. What ship do you think you dad is taking here?"

"That's easy. For this sort of thing? He would take one or both of his Marauder-class corvettes. Loaded with my family too. You couldn't keep them away."

"Tough boats. He should be okay then."

"Why?"

"I don't want to worry you. But this old smuggler says that if hurting you meant your old man would definitely be coming here, it could mean a set up. Or at the very least, they put a hit on him to escape retribution."

"Would Eric really do that?"

"After all this?" Han sagged. "Yeah. To save his own skin, that guy? Yeah. Sorry."

"I'll be sure to warn papa. I cannot promise he'll listen."

"Hey, from what Leia says, he's an old howlrunner and old howlrunners are old for a reason. Hey honey, wait for me."

Sharing knowing looks the Jedi Masters left, Ben in tow.

"Myri, may we have a word alone?"

"Sure."

"Phon. You were in there, weren't you?"

"Not my idea, the glitterstim."

"It was my idea. It was me who pulled you in. I sensed you close and I hoped you'd chase Roehmer out, I think."

"Oh, well that makes feel less like peeping scum."

"I do not associate with scum, Claudius Phon." She held out her hand. He regretted it the moment he took it. It was soft and warm and he wanted to hold it forever. "Well, what do you think?"

"I think you know. You deserve to try out your career. Don't get me wrong. These past months have been some…no, the happiest of my life." He choked. "I think I'll stop talking now." He let her hand drop.

She looked at him in a manner that reminded Phon of his mother looked when he was in the hospital. "You could have stayed with me on the bench. You know that?"

"No. I couldn't. That would put me in the same league with Roehmer! I may be just a dry cleaners' son but…Can I go now?"

Sandra nodded seriously.

Phon turned and left, Myri close behind. "Can I get time by myself now?"

"Sure, just as soon as you can explain why you yelled at me back there."

"Sorry, I thought you knew. I was born with talipes equinovarus, clubfoot."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's how I got my name. 'Claudius' means 'crippled.' So we good? You got a ride? I want to take Baby."

"Wait."

Phon growled but he stayed. "You have two given names. Wait. Like my mom. It's a High Tier Corellian act of modesty. She never used her last name either. What is your name, Phon?"

"Thole. Can I go now?"

Coruscant, High Towers, Roehmer residence

"What's this?"

"Your luggage, Eric. You are going on a vacation."

"Where?"

"Anywhere, New Alderaan, Dathomir, for all I care. You still have your ship, and your private bank account, but I've left you little else. I have just discovered you've been up to no good and now disownment is my only option."

"Mother!"

"Tearee. Show this stranger out."

"I'm your son, your legacy."

"I think my sister's son, Dane, will take you place very well."

"He's an idiot, a goody-two-shoes."

"Exactly." Licia was taller than her son, a fact she used to affect, turn her Aquiline nose up in distain.

Roehmer looked at his mother, dressed in a long gold, embroidered dress, a coiffed of white. "Not a hair out of place when she's throwing her only son out. How typical." Roehmer held off Tearee with open palms. "Wait. Why are you doing this? The Jedi still won't testify. And now that Sandra is dead…"

"She is not. Your Accident Woman failed, your rival, Senator Phon spotted her trap."

"Phon! He's a pebble in my shoe."

"More like a rock. The push to increase security into the New Alderaan Run is back on, intensified even."

"Wait. I have it all figured out! The Jedi won't let the crazy one's testify because it will make the Temple look bad. And even if they do, no one can fail to see they are mad. AlI I have to do plead 'mind trick' to revealing the location of New Alderaan and allowing them set up a Temple on New Alderaan. And if they do connect me to poisoning of Sandra, I can plead mind trick again. I am the victim here. I can the headlines. 'Foreign Jedi mess with the both senator's heads.' It can work."

"Yes, everyone would believe your plea of being 'weak minded." His mother sneered.

"Then why?"

"Sigh. Oh, very well." Tearee relaxed his broad shoulders. "I suppose I am still your mother. You can fool the press, you can fool the law, but you won't be able to fool Burgos Cordona, the Count of Beria. They only way our family still has a shot at merging the families is if I disown you."

"But how could he know? How could she? All she saw of me was the restaurant."

"You were fool! Putting yourself into Sandra's delusions?"

"How could they know about that? Utep assured me it would appear as a favorite fantasy."

"Well, they know! Couldn't be happy with chemical dependence? I told you to stay unemotional, but no. Your penchant for cheating did you in."

"MY cheating?" A strange calm overtook Roehmer. "So that's it. That's worse than if you killed me, you've stripping me of all my dreams, my standing. All the dirty work, you cast me to the howlrunners so you can run a little father."

"Don't kid a kidder, son. It was all about you and you know it. And what do you expect me to do? You want me to lie to Chief of Deputies, Burgos Cordona de Beria? For what? For you? If he doesn't spot my lie, his wife is an Alcanta. We go way back, our families. She'd spot my lie a mile away.

For harming her daughter, she'd peel my nails like teeny-weeny pistachio shells and laugh while doing it. And for what? A brat who could not keep his eyes on the real prize?

You better get going. Our informants tell me they are on their way to Coruscant. I imagine they will want to talk with you after seeing to their daughter."

"Where will I go? Cordona has transports all over the known rims. There is nowhere I could hide."

"You could go to New Alderaan. Do some campaigning. You are right about one, small, thing. There is no concrete evidence. Just the word of mad Jedi.

If he accuses you, face Burgos and challenge him to a duel. Tell him you take the implication that you had anything to do with Sandra as a personal insult. If you win, you are vindicated and the matter is dropped. Much better than letting be played out in the press, don't you think?"

"And the penny drops. A duel means no press. No press means no one can accuse you of involvement. If I win, and Burgos is wounded, our reputation is mended. If I kill him, because those things happen often, you lose a major opponent in the Council of Deputies."

His mother gave away nothing. "In theory, you could even demand court Sandra. I can see that playing very well in the press. As challenged, you can pick blaster, knife or sword. I would pick blaster if I were you. You are rated expert are you not?"

"And if I die, you one connection to the conspiracy is ended and you marry Dane into Cordona Transport."

"The droids will carry your things." Licia turned and walked away. "Tearee, make sure he leaves quickly."

Tearee swelled.

"Cool your jets. You want me out of her fast, like she said? Help with the luggage. Where did you pack the sabredart gun?"

"Like I'd tell you."

"Before I go. Tell Accident Woman I have one more job for her. I'll make it worth her while and yours."

"You really going to New Alderaan?"

"Sure. Why not? It's not like they have any proof that's admissible in a court of law. I'm still a Senator and Leia is only ahead of me by double digits."

Dawn One, Kaleb, Beth

Beth felt cold. She woke up her husband was not there, again. Kaleb had gone for another one of is "runs." She wrapped the blanket around herself. Her little babe wasn't big enough to help her ward off the chill of Spring in the Grande Peninsula. Outside the tent, the glow-beam did not reveal her husband's presence. But it did catch groove in the soft soil. She's seen suck marks before, in sandpits, the marks of Kata drills. She cast her light around the homestead. All the families there were citizens, many were Spacetroopers but all were asleep. The talk with her mother, the warning about the two tattoos, just like the insane Kir Kanos. The baby kicked, lit it knew something was wrong too.

Interdictor, Honor, Fleet Command Office, Kir Kanos

Kanos chrono beep to remind him of a meeting. He hit his comm and a holo Commander Beth spun into view. "Commander."

"Commodore."

"I want to talk your about my husband, Kaleb Underhill, designate Mess-one."

"If it's about his delay in promotion…"

"No. It's personal. Please tell me what you know about his scores."

"That is not my prevue, his sergeant or sergeant major…"

She cut him off. "They said I should talk to you."

Cutting him off told Sorran more than anything. He was silent.

"He doesn't sleep. I do not mean he's restless, he doesn't sleep. In the morning, the men go out and find a day's work already done, boulders it would take three troopers to move, tossed aside, equipment fixed, furlongs of fence laid, bars are bent back into place with bare hands. "

"Insomnia is a matter for the medics."

"Need I remind you about what you one told me about what we owe those who risk their life?"

"The truth. Is this line secure? Is anyone there?"

"No."

"I'm linking to your earpiece. I hate doing this over comms. What your husband is demonstrating, that ability, would have gotten him shipped off to the Crimson Guard."

"So?"

Sorran took a deep breath. "Before that…before the Emperor…it would have gotten him shipped off to the Jedi Temple." Sorran let it sink in. "You husband is not normal. I was hoping it would not come to this."

"To what?"

"The legend is that there is a reason parents let the Jedi take their Force Sensitive children. If they don't the child risks madness and death. I suspect his parents knew this and chose to hide their son from the Jedi. The Errant Venture, always on the move, a den of inequity, would an excellent hiding place."

"But it's just Legend."

"I was hoping it wasn't true, I was hoping just some discipline…or he would not be that strong…"

"And now?"

"It is no exaggeration that Kir Kanos killed hundreds of Troopers at a time. Only Lord Vader came close. Has he demonstrated the ability to see the future yet?"

"He's been talking about what our farm will look like, but everyone is doing that."

"Just his. Like there is no one else owning a farm?"

A chill ran down her spine. "Emperor's name. What will I do?"

"You? You leave. He will see that you know. Take his weapons, his suit if his has one. I will send a shuttle. Come up here. You, me and my wife will figure out something."

"You and your wife?"

"And hurry, like the grain of wheat on a chess board, soon he'll be too big to manage."

Coruscant, Sky Room Banquet Hall, Rotta, Spoon

"What's this about?"

"I don't know may be another drill."

"A full buffet and bar at the Skyroom? Great drill."

Senator Yates of Fondor wasn't stuffing her face. She was casting about trying to discern what all the invitee's had in common. They looked like a mixed bag of planets and economies from far flung locations. "Lobbyists offering free food is not new. The Skyroom is. No one would. I wouldn't especially after…" Then it hit her. "I'd been thinking of them in the past. They are no longer…I am no longer who we were, not after the Vong. Yes. All of us are victims, at least in great part to Vongification."

"Gentlebeings." Rotta the Hutt on his hovercouch floated in to laughter.

"A Hutt! I knew there had to be a catch!"

"Today, I am not a Hutt. I am like you, a victim. I see Senator Yates has caught on, yes. Look around, what do we all have in common?"

"The Vong!" Clamni of Duros shouted. "The damned Vong!"

"Correct."

"So what are you offering Hutt? A hit on whole species? Revenge of some sort?"

"Ah. My dear Senator Koloff. Don't you know the old Hutt expression, 'Living well is the best revenge?" Rotta was handed a goblet of wine by a servo-droid.

The mob shuffled. Voices raised in the crowd.

"Well, today you are lucky."

"Yeah. What's this all about, Hutt?'

"In a moment. May I, introduce my colleagues, Senator Spoon from Deysum III and other the members of the Senate Environmental Recovery Committee?"

Yates recognized Susurrus. A broken Falleen was sight behold but Susurrus seemed, for the first time since the war fill of vinegar, like Yates knew him before the war.

Susurrus took the floor. In Yate's eyes it was like the Susurrus of old, the Bullroarer of the Senate. "When is a senator, not a senator? When they have no planet! Look at us. There was a day when if we wanted the Skyroom, we booked it ourselves. Now look at us, living off the scraps off of species we would not have spat on if they were on fire before! And why? Because we had the bad luck to be in the Vong's way!"

The Brillatian Senator took over. "Oh, the Alliance signed a treaty for the Vong to fix one planet, their planet, Coruscant! And they called it a victory."

The Riflorian, Utrecht, Yates recalled, strode forward. "How many of us have been told to be patient, to forgive the lack of funding 'just one more year?' Well, we say no more! They…Deysum III…" He pointed to Senator Spoon "Have machines, huge machines that can terraform our worlds back in a matter of, not decades, not years, but months!" We have seen it on Deysum III with our own eyes! They are making it a paradise again!"

"And of we can make a paradise there, we can make it anywhere." Spoon cocked her hip and put her hand on it confidently.

Yate noticed the group had stopped eating, except the Hutt.

"Watch." Spoon produced a remote and showed them 70mm glorious surround sound a sales pitch from a company that came highly recommended by Rotta. "They don't sell stuff, they sell dreams." And as Spoon looked on the hundred-odd myriad, slack jawed, homeless Beings…"Have to hand it to the Hutt. He's right again."

"Well?"

"Wait! I know those! That shiny white tile doesn't fool me! I fought those! Those are World Devastators!"

"They have no weapons."

"Doesn't mean they can't print them!"

"Are you insane?"

Rotta waited until the crowd wound down. Susurrus was on. "I know. I fought them too. But these are permanently disarmed. I checked. Lando Calrissian had a disarmed one for decades. A machine is a machine. Don't we have Super Star Destroyers in our fleet? These are not Devastators but Rejuvenators!"

"And these…" added the Riflorian clean everything, down to the microbic level. We all know how long that normally takes."

"Yeah. And the Alliance makes no guarantees. The Undercity is still rife with hostile Vongiform."

"And this is the planet they promised to fix!"

"These will fix everything. Every grain is scrubbed."

"Yeah, but WD's eat as they make. I don't want my planet strip-mined just to get it back to …air quotes…'normal.' The cure is worse than the disease."

Spoon steeped forward, hands open. "That's where Deysum III comes in. You don't need to use your mineral resources. The World Rejuvenators will use our heavy metals and chemical soups, please, you'll be doing us a favor."

"Or, in the case of Duros, even cleaner than before, my old friend, like new." The Riflorian smiled.

"Even if this was true, there has to be a catch."

"Yeah. What's the price?" A rhubarb rose among the crowd.

"A vote, a resolution, to let us help you."

"That's it? A vote?"

"Too good to be true."

Rotta deferred to Susurrus. "The Alliance builds a shiny new Coruscant then told us to wait. So how do you think the senate will react to us using these former weapons to re-make our homes?"

Silence.

"Right. It will stick in their craw. They'll throw words at us, like 'municide' and 'genocide' and even 'environmental impact reports.' While they sleep all warm and cozy in their own worlds, we rot and our younglings cry for food."

"I counted. We are only a little over one-third of the Senate here." Yates said flatly. "I figure we could get another ten percent could agree with us. But it won't be enough. One look at the Devastators would scare any fool to death. I know Hutt's. Your type never proposes anything unless the response is assured. What do you have planned Hutt?"

Jabba laughed. "Me? I have no skin in this game. Nal Hutta, safe in Hutt space, will go ahead, not matter what the senate says."

"We could do that."

"Don't be stupid. The Hutts are sovereign. The Alliance Fleet would attack US the first chance they got."

"Ironic. Because we belong, they can attack us."

"Please! Gentlebeings! My clients asked me to help them, help you. The question here is what do YOU plan?"

"Suss?"

"I don't about you. I'm tired of being a beggar. I say we call in every marker, make any promise, sell the family silver, anything to get those votes. Omit mentioning the tech being based off of Devastators. Just say they are Rejuvenators and new government of Deysum III got off his glutes did what they were subsidized for, which is all true."

"And it won't cost them one thin cred. We are doing Deysum III a favor."

"They can go to bed feeling like saviors."

"Wait." It was Yates. "Can you alter the film? Make them less Devastator looking?"

"Yeah. Art deco would be good. Art deco always played well in my focus groups…before the Vong ate them all."

"I'll get my people on it." Said Rotta. "It's a good idea, actually. They were designed to terrify."

Spoon shrugged. "Why not? Why not put the lotus of the Alliance on it too?"

"Let's not go that far."

"So who will get them first?"

"Ah!" Said Rotta. "The Reclamation Committee has decided that whomever garners the most votes, goes first and so on down the line."

"And we just gave the members of the committee hundred votes each." Yates laughed darkly. Suss shot her wry smile proving her right. "So we better get started."

"Ahem." Rotta cleared his throat. "May I make one small suggestion. If you wish for success, avoid Senator Phon of Corellia."

"Why?"

"Sometimes it's better not to know."

Rotta and the Deysum Council of Neighborhoods watched the new advert with interest. "I have to admit. The week long delay was worth it. Sorran was right again. Allowing the WR's to remake themselves, rather than we alter the images, gives me a much stronger hand to play. He was right. Art deco is efficient and streamlined. Who knew? Award Yates a bonus point!"

"Where did the old Rejuvenators go?"

"Sorran said he had a special project for them."

Rotta frowned and check the Fibonacci math on his datapad. A lot of WR's were disappearing. Oh the work was being done, but not by as WR's as there should be. "There are supposed to be 17,111 now but only 8198 in service. Where are the others?"

The Rejuvenators 'agreed' with Sorran, too, in their way. The Deysum III's WR's reported the double fan, "ox hide' shape of the remodeled main body with the maw at the axis was more efficient and offered more overlapping sheilds and fields of tractoring. The new round legs, with palmetto motif on around the base funneled matter in much more efficiently, with improved cyclonic air flow and less scrubbing corners than the squared tubes before.

Rotta put on a happy face. "Who wouldn't want these remaking their world? Bury the old data."

"Don't worry. On Deysum we know all about burying things so no one will find them. It's what we do."

Shaw's Ice Cream Parlor, Westlake Cistern, balcony

"You shouldn't be here." Myri came out from the parlor. And dismissed Del, the third shift bodyguard.

"Why not? Work's done."

"This is the third time this week. What did I tell you about patterns?" Myri looked at his sundae. "Triple cream blueberry cheesecake and fleas? Keep hitting the dojo."

"I plan too. This is about the only place I relax anymore."

"Heard that. You know what goes great with cheesecake? Laphroig." She withdrew her stainless durasteel flask from her interior jacket pocket."

"And a fine kelp cigar? One of Lando's this time." he removed the hand sized stainless dura steel case from his left breast pocket.

"Lando's? Sign me up." A shared sip and a draft and puffs later Myri broke the silence. "I know when a man is working up to something."

"I was inside your head. Not my fault, I swear, the glitterstim had me swerving all over the place."

"I was afraid of that. Don't worry. I'll resign. Stupid idea anyway."

"Don't say that! It's not! It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me! And you got it wrong. I'm trying to figure a way to fire you and date you afterwards.

"But…? I'm not sure I like the way my heart is pounding."

"AND I'm not sure it's the best thing for either of us. I could not help but feel your pain. The Errant Venture…damn what a corrosive place. I really think I've grown to like you. Mom always said friendship is great place to start. We have a lot in common. But we're so different. I've rehearsed this a hundred times…I'm rambling."

"Shut up."

"Okay."

Myri leaned forward and looked him levelly in his eyes. "I always liked your honesty, Claudius. What feeling were those words trying to wrap around?"

"Do or die time." Phon reached deep. "Let me help?"

Cigar in one hand, ice cream laden spoon in the other, Phon reeled back from kiss on his mouth that set his blood on fire. After an eternity he wished would go on forever, Myri came up for air. "WOW! I guess that's a yes?" Phon gasped.

"So? Where to now?"

"Well, if it's not rushing things, my mother is visiting…'

"And I'm staying with my mom and dad."

"Oh good, we can all get our families together. My mom think they may have some friends in common. What?"

"Aren't you going to invite me someplace?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh." Myri tried not to laugh as the light went on in Phon's attic and he turned as red a Mustafarring pepper. "That."

The two spent a couple of minutes on their comms, one with a resignation, the other with reservations.

Out on front of Shaw's, Myri's aircar, Grai, was still docked but Phon apparently had his pulled up, the valet held the Baby's for him. Myri tried to concentrate on her last duty and scanned the area. She heard the valet say. "Capacitor indicator is a little wonky, senator. You might want to get it checked out."

"Thanks." Phon always tipped heavy.

Myri could take it anymore. She grabbed Phon by the lapels and the two had a great, "see you in a few," quick, macking session. For Myri it whet her appetite. He was short but strong, confident and he didn't rush the kiss, enjoying the romance of it. "Oh I could get to like this."

A polite cough reminded the two there was a line, standing polite distance behind, but a line. "Oh, right, sorry. See you in a few." Smooch.

Walking on air, Myri saw the valet walking away from the restaurant. Something about her, made her hackles rise. "Off duty? It's the busy time. How did she know he was a senator?" Then she saw it. The wear on the inside heels. "Phon! Don't move! Accident Woman! Freeze!" She drew her security DL-44 and took an A stance, the crowd parted or flattened. Just another night in Coruscant.

The valet turned and hissed, facing Myri, spread eagle. Something was in her hand. Myri double tapped, and they something exploded behind her.

Myri got up from the curb of the elevated sidewalk. The soldier and agent knew what to expect behind her. So when Accident Woman, who had somehow survived a light load double tap to her chest, ran on.

Myri took careful aim at the back of her head. Her DL-had telescopic and low light sights. But her hand wavered. People were everywhere. The DL is not light blaster and she had just been knocked to the ground by an air concussion. The long nights making lousy shots into the archery target made her wince. The fear and anger were making her muscles tense, weak. But it also brought the reflex. She knew how to re-center self. She's done it a thousand times before at the dojo.

"No. You are not getting away. Not getting another chance. Not on my Claudius." She sighed, breathed deep and focused on the fact the woman half a block and receding, had tried to kill the man she loved. "I am not a killer. I am a defender." And just like that, her hand steadied. She felt an old strength welling up on her, for some reason she thought of a fireplace.

Through crisscrossing pedestrians and a dagget walker, Myri shot Accident Woman in the center-back of both thighs. Accident Woman face planted into the duracrete with a satisfying crunch, legs akimbo. Immediate threat dealt with, she whirled. "Claudius!"

She ran to the body next to the wreck her mother's words. "We Antilles women have terrible luck with men." Rang in her ears,

Baby was a wreck, foam rubber burned, producing greasy smoke. The aircar had settled on the boarding pad, sizzling blue-white lightning bolts and the ozone made her sneeze, indicating a catastrophic capacitor overload.

Phon was on his back. A foot long yellow painted shard of steel stuck out of his chest above his heart. Careful not to move his spine, Myri, checked his pulse. It was strong.. "Not a bomb then. No bleeding in the chest. The shard must be plugging it. His legs and arms were painted in blood. Medpac!

She looked at Baby. The trunk area looked intact A Medpac was inside. But there as one in Grai too. She chucked her key to a woman dressed in nurse's shoes. "There's a Medpac in the truck of the old red aircar." She snatched the keys, nodded and ran off."

"Oh no. Nonononononono. Not when we were so close. So close."

"Myri? You okay?" Cough. "Ow!"

"Of course I'm okay! What about you?"

"Pretty banged up. All the metal hit me but I think the knife proof vest took care of the worse of it. My arms and legs feel wet, cuts? Good thing..."

"Phon. Don't look but there is a huge hunk of metal sticking out of your chest."

"Really? Funny. I don't feel it."

"It's shock."

"You sure? I feel everything else. Wait." Using his left hand, Phon tugged at his jacket. It was impaled by the hand-span shard sticking out of him. He slipped his right hand under his right lapel. "I think…"

"Stop that! You'll bleed to death!"

"No I won't. See?" Left hand on the shard, right hand under his coat, Phon removed the shard and showed a split steel cigar case. "What do you know? Smoking saved my life! Ha-ha! OW! I think I can sit up." The audience applauded.

The nurse arrived and began bandaging and Myri applied her own field dressing.

"Wait! Wait! You said "'Accident Woman, freeze.'"

"Oh, that's right. You've got her." The nurse nodded and Myri ran off, terrified she'd find nothing but an empty patch of duracrete. But no, there she was, bleeding from both legs and her face, a tooth lay two inches to one side of her wrinkled face. Brown hair, average height, average build, in her late fifties but slim and fit.

"Too many assassinations. Too soon. And two senators? Roehmer must be paying you a fortune." As Myri searched and removed items from the assassin, she noticed a buckle shield projector of the same sort used by her late Auntie, Mara Jade. "That explains why you faced me rather than keep on running. Think I'll keep it. After checking it for traps of course." A security guard was already there. Myri zip-tied the assassin. "Watch her. She's deadlier than she looks." And she chose to spend her time with Phon.

The nurse was bandaging only his arms and legs.

"You got lucky." The nurse said. "Even with the mesh armor we'd be talking broken rib at least without that steel cigar case. No one will believe it."

Phon was jovial, manic. "It's happened before. I remember reading about a prime minister doing the same but it was a steel eyeglass case and slugthrower and a rolled up speech. Say that reminds me. Help me up. Hey folks! I'm okay. This just proves I must be doing something right. Up Corellia!" People cheered. "Ow. Ow."

"Claudius!" Myri hugged Phon.

"OW!"

"Sorry." She kissed him and hugged him more.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Cameras..."

"Forget them... Oh and so happy you're not seriously hurt. Capacitors don't explode so badly. She must have originally be counting on you to be in flight when it blew."

Phon then realized he'd been facing the sunset sky or the crowd until then. "Blew? BABY!" Forgetting his wounds and Myri, Phon spun. "BABY! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he fell to his knees. He wanted to hug his beloved Ride, but his own sense of high voltage arcing on hot metal prevented it.

Coruscant, Presidio, Antilles Residence

When Myri finally made it home, it was already late. Her parents, with the adequate news and texts had already gone to bed. Adrenaline and kaffe still coursed through her veins so she reached for the thing that always relaxed her, the bow.

Myri had sweet talked Phil, the gardener, to let her use the storage beneath the planters in the plaza, so the set up was quicker than when she first started, lugging everything.

"I am not a killer. I am not a liar. I am a defender. A defender. Hearth. Home. Phon. Release. I am not a killer. I am not a liar. I am a defender. A defender. Hearth. Home. Phon. Release…." Everything felt right. One ten ring after another.

High above her, two parents hugged each other. Husband kissed the tears from the mother's eyes. "She's going to be all right."

After she slipped into her pj's, Myri braided her hair. "I like it longer. I can see Phon…Claudius, likes it too." She slipped into bed and snuggled in. "And you, Mister Claudius Phon, have some serious making up to do."

CIC aboard the Echidna, Sorran, Beth, Rotta (remote)

"Commodore Sorran. "I am happy to report that after the redesigning of the WR's for something other than inspiring terror, we've pick up nine more Senate votes."

"I was a good idea, I wish I had hought of it. Perhaps, it would be best if we just built art deco ones, then we can send the terror ones to Nal Hutta. Your people won't mind will they?"

"Oh, no. Hutts are all about results, not appearances, except when dancing girls are involved. Ha-ha. And Dawn One?"

"We've hit a glitch. One of our Spacetroopers appears to have Midichorians Madness and is holding up everything in our prime homestead."

"If you killed him, you might be doing him a favor, I hear."

Beth whimpered.

"I heard that too. But I don't want the dozen or so deaths. And lasers are out of the question We just got the homestead built. And frankly, he was a good soldier. And we'd hate to do that. It's bad for morale."

Beth whimpered.

"See?"

"Sad. Wait. Suppose I were to suggest a treatment?"

"From who, the Jedi?" Sorran sneered.

"Yes and no."

"What will it cost me?"

"Oh, it's not me you have to worry about, for once."

Senatorial Quarter Hospital, Secure Wing, Myri, Phon, Phon's Mom, Den

"Hey Den."

"Senator."

"Den's your new chief bodyguard now."

"Myri, this is my mom. Mom, Myri."

"Mrs. Phon." Myri looked at the woman. Her face was careworn, her shorthair steel grey and she wore simple denims, long sleeve flannel and an insulated vest. No jewelry or make up.

"So. You couldn't tell my son to get away from his car?"

"Mom!"

"It's okay. I didn't know the car was rigged. It could have been anything."

"Her alarm did get me drawing my sidearm."

"And you shot this criminal, and ignored my Claudius."

Phon's tone was soft and apologetic. "Mater, hic salvus erit mulier filii tui anima bis. Mecum es tamquam stultus facit. Tace. Tace. Animæquior esto. Helluva shot. Two of them. Phon's mother folded her hands and bowed her head. "Princeps domina. Intelligo. Ego meum quia unicus matris quoque. Perturberis, si etiam ego meam nocere puer erat." "Et locutus Princeps Inoffensum Corellian?"

"A little. My mother's is a Wessiri. My mom is a widow. She kept her first husband's name."

"Oh." Phon's mom shot her son a look like she had just bit into a grapefruit rind. "We know Wessiri. Scholars of renown is that not so?"

"Indeed. Thank you. Not ruined by the emperor, though like yours. Which we used against him."

"You fly well. And shoot well too'."

"You saw?"

"Everyone has a camera nowadays. I thought she'd be left with stumps." Phon tried to but in.

"When I was a bodyguard, regulations require light loads. Got old 'Flashbang,' Uncle Han's specially modified one back." She drew the gun and showed it turning this way and that. Phon noticed it was bigger. "And how are you Claudius?"

Mother shot her son a knowing look.

Myri pointed to the bacta sleeves on his arms and legs. "Fever? Infections?"

Phon blushed. "First time a girl uses my first name in front of my mom and it's like this. Better. Speaking of which, would you mind, rolling me out? I want to try Lando's advice about kelp cigars getting the bacta taste out."

"Only if I get one too."

"His father smoked kelp too."

"Really?"

"Why do I have to pay you? You're my girlfriend now, right?"

"Who's pushing whom?"

As they got Phon into his wheelchair, Myri, the former agent, didn't miss the nod of approval from mother to son.

When Phon, Myri and Den returned to the hospital room, Phon mother was nowhere to be seen. Phon checked his commlink. "Ha. Mom says she's leaving me in capable hands and going back to my place."

"You think she likes me?"

"After you spoke old Corellian? Golden. And she left us alone…?"

"That's right! Den would you mind guarding the door? The Senator and I have some important business to discuss and we do not want to be disturbed. Not even doctors."

Den raised both brows and looked to Phon, his real boss. He nodded emphatically. As Den left, he heard the deadbolt click.

Coruscant, Residence of Lascivious Skink, Skink, Roehmer

Leaning back in conversation pit, his lady handing him some chilled sparkling wine, Skink could tell from the secret, secure holoprojector built into his hand made cocktail table, Roehmer was broadcasting from the secure station back of his limo.

"Told you holo was the way to go. Eric? To what to I owe the honor? I'd really Iike to NOT know."

"You failed me, Skink."

"I'd agree. IF there was anything I did to lead the activity back to you. We work with people. People are fallible AND it's not like the old days. The Emperor liked people on drugs, so he legalized them, or looked the other way, made them low priority, which you and I know is the same thing. Drugs kept the hoi poli pliant.

Unfortunately, GA Security cares about people and it knows what it is doing, been chipping away at drug smuggling for years."

"You owe me."

"Now you are just talking crazy."

"Fine. I need a homing beacon place on two ships. Maybe two. And then two eyes in the spaceport."

"Do-able, for the right price."

"And some pirates willing to pick up some easy credits."

"Whoa! 2 and 2 add up to work I do not want to do! For three hundred I'll give you the comm of a guy I know, who knows a guy on Courkrus. Lots of people looking for work there nowadays, if you know what I mean. LOMAR's been knocking the stuffing out of them. Whatever you decide to do, I do not want to know about it."

"Fine."

The two worked out the details.

"Eric. One warning. I know it sounds odd. But these guys on Courkrus… do not try lie to them, or shine them or poodoosh them, like you do me. Seriously. Those people have no sense of humor. 'Face' is everything to theme, more than credits."

"I can work with that. Roehmer out."

"Honey, that fool is going to get himself killed."

"As long as the check clears first, hun. Now, let's take a look at last night's receipts."

Coruscant, Secure Wing, Senatorial Sector Hospital, Phon, Phon's mom, Myri, Sandra, Mr. & Mrs. Burgos Alcanta-Cordona de Beria

When Phon woke up in the hospital bed, the first face he saw was his mother, she was dozing in the chair next to him, a familiar purse on her lap. His limbs, ballooned with bacta sleeves could not really move.

The memory of yesterday, in the same fix with Myri brought a smile to his face. "I'm in love? Who knew?"

He felt a light fever that was definitely not Myri. It turned it was his comm buzzing that woke him. As he clumsily reached for it, he saw a wreath of black roses in the corner, sashed with a yellow banner with sky blue lettering that read "Baby. We will never forget you. -Faroe Racing" "Thanks guys. I'm genuinely touched."

Fortunately or unfortunately, the comm did not stop buzzing as he worked his puffy bactapac sleeved arms to get the comm. It was the Corellian Prime Minister.

"Figures. HI, Mary."

"Congratulations Senator Phon."

"On what?"

"You opponent dropped out of the race. I don't know what did it. Either you yelling 'Up Corellia!' after being nearly blow up or you mourning your dearly departed ride. Either way, can't get more Corellian than that.

Heard the poor girl practically cried. In any case, she dropped out. She must figure she has a better chance next year against Winstrum, to which I say HA! As uncontested, you are about to approved by the Legislature."

"I am fine, Mary. How are you?"

"Worried about trade with New Alderaan. I saw the film on you and the bodyguard. A-HEM."

"Sandra and I are cool. We saved her life twice."

"You better be. News crews are on the way. They will be there in about an hour. Is Sandra there yet?"

"Phon!"

"She just arrived."

The Hospital room was cramped so the staff, used to Senatorial hullabaloos, left the cousins in the lobby and prepared to move the Phon party into the press room, Myri pushing him in a wheelchair, arms and legs still in translucent, pillowy bacta sleeves. Fortunately, prepping the press room gave the people more time to get the story straight.

Phon still had not figured out the elaborate Alderaanian naming system, but Sandra's mom seemed well able to orchestrate and Sandra happy to defer and learn at the feet of the Maestra who had spent her life in the public eye.

"She could teach a course in logistics." Phon whispered to Sandra.

In a little less than an hour, the Maestra had Phon, washed by nurses. Sandra offered to shave his face but Sensei Myri said she was more qualified. (another good memory with Myri) and, with the help of Mrs. Dacia, who took orders from the Maestra like Phon wasn't there, dressed him in the 'portrait" suit, sash, gorget and all, Maestra had ordered Dacia to bring over.

At the Maestra's direction, Sandra whisked Myri somewhere and returned her in a half an hour with her washed, new clothes, not a security uniform but a neat jacket, slacks and boots, blue sash with the folding knife tucked in, and hair in a neat short braid and light make up.

"My shield maiden. I wish I could be alone with her again." He sighed. "Right now."

No one else, was in the room at the moment. Phon caught the end of a conversation. Sandra was speaking in a whisper. "Spare me your pity! You won. No need to rub it in."

His mom re-entered on their heels. She too had freshened up.

The Maestra re-entered telling her husband what to do, Burgos nodding.

"And you Phon. When I wave my hand like so. You moan and say you need rest. Then we end the press conference. Capisco?"

"Si, Donna Burgos."

"It's Donna Alcanta-Cordona or Donna de Beria."

"Got it."

"Do you?" She tested. ""You and Sandra are…?"

"Great friends and colleagues who share a special bond Glad I didn't kiss Sandra at the races now. Never thought I'd say that!"

"Not 'who' say 'we' and include Ms. Antilles. And when you say 'special bond?"

"Point to my silver gorget."

"Burgos?"

Burgos sounded bored. "He is like a son to me. We own him a…no, two great favors…us and New Alderaan."

"Ms. Antilles?"

"Senator Alcanta-Cordona is a great asset to the Alliance and I am very proud to have helped her, as I would help any citizen."

"Sandra?"

Sandra didn't look at her mother, she looked directly, flat, without emotion, at Phon.

"What does the Sabbac face mean?"

"Senator Phon has risked his life to save mine. He is a great hero. He helped us uncover a smuggling ring that would have sold poison to our children. He is a great…friend to me and New Alderaan."

Phon tried to make a joke. "Boy, you are a great choreographer."

"Of course."

"Here we go. Smiles everyone! Smiles!"

Courkrus, Roehmer, Dreberts, Veracious Ply, Dolor Malo,

Smoke from a hundred different toxic inhalants fill the air. Roehmer bet he could barely stand up in the private booth his agent had rented. "Rhythm in Motion" was on the jukebox which Roehmer took as good omen. "Twenty thousand now. Twenty in escrow upon completion."

"This could really save my neck!" Was the three pirate captains thoughts but they kept a Sabbac face. The cheap times at Courkrus was gone. The LOMAR's had meant there were more than five times the crews and captains looking to refit, re-arm and re-crew. Inflation was everywhere and the Courkrus' Pyke Syndicate debt collectors, the truly toughest mob on the planet, were out in force.

"It's not enough. Whacking a senator is sure to draw heat."

"A body would have to lie low for years."

"It will cost extra."

"Kiss me first. All of your guys are already wanted by GA, an average of seven system death marks between you. This job won't be any more incentive. However, I have the best ID hacks in the business on my payroll and I can throw in a fresh start for you and your crew. Could make a death mark go away, even."

"Crew? Forget the crew. All they'd do is get me caught."

"Okay. Just new ID for you."

"We'll need ships, equipment."

"Which is what the 20K upfront is for. With all sincere, respect, you four bosses and captains are the third group I have tried to hire. The other guys tried to mark and groat me to death. So I asked for serious pirates. Well?"

"Details. Who are were going after, specifically?"

"Senator Alcanta-Cordona. She'll be on her father's Marauder…"

Whistle. "A Marauder? What kind? Ow!"

"A corvette you idiot. They aren't pirates, like us."

"Well I didn't know!"

"Seriously, an actual Core Sec Marauder Corvette?"

"Maybe two."

"You do not overpay."

"Wait. Is the Cordona Transport Company we are talking about?"

"Yes. And Burgos and his wife and most of the family should be aboard too. Could be a good little payday."

"What good is money if you are not around to spend it?"

"This changes things. One Marauder, okay. But two, no way."

"How about if I double it if he does decide to use the two? I have a man watching the spaceport. Burgos will be making straight from Coruscant to New Alderaan. Unless I miss my guess, he'll insist on getting his daughter to a safe place to… recover."

"Recover from what?"

"An illness. Anyway. You will have time of departure. And maybe, if he files early enough, the flight plan. But I don't want him. You don't have to destroy the ship. I just want the senator confirmed dead. No disintegrations. You fake a holo, I'll know."

"So, you want to make this look like a pirate attack. We can do that."

"Well, it won't be fake."

"With the TOD and flight plan? Might be nice little payday."

"My brother was killed by a Cordona security ship. Might be the same one. Payback would be nice."

"Love to have a Marauder."

"Let's not get our hopes up. Marauders are tough boats. You may have to settle for a holo of that ship she's in blowing up."

"After confirmation of her demise, the balance will be forthcoming."

"A recent holo of the target?" Whistle. The projector change dot Roehmer's copy of the portrait with Sandra in her river-robes of office, sans Phon.

Roehmer sighed heavily. "A souvenir from the time we were together." The fact she was drugged when she gave it to him didn't cross his mind.

"What a beauty! You are SURE you want her dead?"

"Yeah. I made that mistake once before."

"If they do send two Marauders, how will we know which ship she is on?"

"She'll be with her father. He always takes the one with the oversized comm antennae so he can run his business."

"Looks like you have thought of everything. Any thoughts on how this would go down?"

"Do we have a deal? Remember. Muerte."

One right after the other said. "Muerte."

"Glad you asked. I worked as an engineer for Burgos.

Burgos likes to play the hero, just charge right in. Watch out. He is brilliant with any kind of knife. His chief engineer, big bald head guy, Curly, uses the same master passcode for everything. I kept telling him to change it, but I bet he never did. I'm attaching schematics. But they are out of date. Curly always talked about adding quad blasters."

"Just this girl, no one else?"

"Well, there is one guy but I doubt I'd be lucky enough for him to be on board. Senator Claudius Phon." He switched the holo to the one including Phon. It burned him like acid.

The pirates suddenly became animated. "That's where I've seen her before! The holonews!"

"Right! That Phon guy killed her kidnappers and partied with the princess afterwards! Lucky dagget!"

"You keep her! That hard bodied pilot of his? Mmmmm."

"And how about that shooting? Damn I wish my boys would shoot like that!"

"Don't worry, anonymous client, we'll plan better than those laserbrains did."

"Ha!"

"What?"

"You said 'laserbrain' and two of them got shot through the head with that laser of his!"

"That's right!" The table exploded in laughter.

"I'll be in touch. Client out. Thank Draffut, I'm not in the same room. Hm Secure links are better. Skink was right."

Cordona Transport Company's Marauder Corvette, Gwaimalchai, Phon, Myri, Sandra and Family

It was one of the moments in his life Phon wished he could have been rude. But the Alcanta-Cordona's and especially Mary back in Corellia, were having none of it. He was to recover in sunny, safe New Alderaan, courtesy of Sandra's family.

He was supposed to be in the sleeves for another three days, a longer, but less extrusive process than the tank. But the cuts had gone from scabs to pink.

Phon had to admit Myri got along well with Sandra's family. They were big and loud. Phon, never knowing better, had his heart on his sleeve and they respected that. They even compared scars. Which, between guys, made him feel better.

Myri liked to arm wrestle and even took lessons from Burgos on the art of the folding knife. Myri told Phon it reminded her of something called a "Falchion." The cousins and he compared more scars., They didn't seem impressed with the laser rifle. Mrs. Burgos complimented Phon on his scholarship. The Alderaanian ham was food of the gods and Mrs. Burgos made him eat enough for three grown men. Sandra was oddly aloof.

DA-42 Seinar Systems Marauder Class Corvette

When a pirate captain detected a Marauder on his tail, the usual order was VAB, Void All Bowels. Speed plus in space, atmospheric maneuverability, top of the line tractors, space for 12 support fighters and 2 platoons of Marines, the Marauder is a freebooters worst nightmare. Not enough? Four, repeat, four turbo lasers, not lasers, fast firing turbo laser with built in space for factory installed power and weapons packages

It would be a different world for smugglers if the Old Republic had bought them. One SD could pay for a dozen Corvettes and cover more space.

Why didn't the Old Republic buy them? Some Old Republic Navy curmudgeon didn't like the fact it didn't have rear facing sensors.

New Alderaan, en Route, , The Cordona Transport Marauder Gwaimalchai, Phon, Myri, Sandra and Family

"Sleeping" in the central common room of a Cordona ship turned out to be a bit of an oxymoron for Phon but it could not be helped. The cuts from the explosion were still new. Myri would NOT let him out of the wheelchair except for the fresher. The bacta pack heals were still raw and Myri wouldn't let Phon walk for fear of the wounds opening. The dead skin was getting itchy. The only wheelchair friendly cabin in the ship were the fold down cots in the multi-use common room in the center of the ship. Still, Phon did get to meet the family that way.

Phon spectated a "friendly game" of sword circles between cousins. Within the lines painted on the deck, the cousins fought to first blood. Over what? Phon had no idea. But Burgos did inform him that his caste only fought on ships or boats. 'Good for the footing." He nodded.

After a cut. The loser bowed, his daughter slapped a Medpac on the bicep and the victor handed him a bota bag of wine and they toasted. "I love your family, Sandra!" He didn't hear a reply.

Everyone paused as the sublight cut in. Landings and take offs, of any sort, are when accidents tend to occur. They were not disappointed.

The alarm screeched. Burgos and the cousins scrambled. The lack of surprise and practiced speed, surprised Phon. Den beat Myri to the announcement. "They found pirates."

Phon was still awkward in the sleeves, but he clicked on the forward monitor next to this chair. There was a cargo carrier, a big one, with what looked for all the world like yellow jackets attached.

"Hornet Interceptors." Myri announced. "Didn't know any more were around. "Here they go. We are in pursuit."

"We will catch them?"

"We should. A Hornet's big strength is its freaky maneuverability. But those things are so old…"

"Those were just cargo containers. Where did that YT go? That's a YT rig. But I saw rust on the hitch." Said Den, showing why Myri chose him as his replacement. "I don't like this."

"Agreed."

DA-42 The first indication of torpedo fire is, historically, being hit by one.

The Gwaimalchai shook like it got hit by a hammer, spilling Phon of his wheelchair.

"Cussion missile or I'm an Ewok!' Shouted Den. The shipped rocked again and knocked him down again.. "And the hits keep on coming!"

"Damn." Myri picked herself off the deck and swerved the monitor to the rear, all the containers were open. She slammed the comm. "Prepare to repel boarders!"

Another alarm screamed. "What the Sith is happening now?"

The intercom screamed. "The ramp! The ramp is opening!"

Dreberts, Veracious Ply, Dolor Malo

The pirate captains smiled. Dreberts, Veracious Ply, Dolor Malo were on the Gamma Three, the superior Gamma ATR transport model, not the Gamma shuttles, and the last to attack. They were together, though none would admit it, to keep an eye on each other.

"I love when a plan works."

"Have to hand it to Roehmer. He was right. Charged ahead like a bull in a shop that sells fine porcelain. And the ramp code is working

"Keep firing cussion missiles, target those quads. Recall the hornets."

Almost feel bad he didn't bring the second Marauder."

"We might get this Marauder after all." Veracious Ply was almost drooling.

Up the main ramp, side by side, the Gamma Assault Boats swooped up. Pushing the fighters aside, cracking them, spinning them, shoving one atop the other, spilling fuel which sprayed out into space. Then the emergency docking shield slammed down.

"No room." Drebert's feigned disappointment.

"Looks like we stay here." Ply joined him in humor.

"Argh. Hornets. Take out those quads and comms!"

In the centrally located common area, Phon watched the cousins, dressed in riverine blue uniforms and helmets, blasters in hand, vibro jackknife in sash, pour from the part form the parts of the ship and stream towards the rear of the craft. "They don't seem fearless, they seem joyful!""

"Aft quad needing station!" came over the intercom.

"That's my rate." "Said Den.

"Go!"

"Myri! Where are you going!"

"Sorry Phon. The breach is the best place to repel boarders. If they get off the bay, we're screwed!" drawing Flashbang, Myri ran off.

"What now?"

This time a laser hit from above, the ship did more of a tilt. The laser rifle Phon had been showing to his cousins slid out from under his cot to his wheels. "Feels like an accusation."

The assault on the Marauder landing bay with schematics provided by the payee, was working well. The pirates of boat one met the rush of attach and, with a pair of portable shield parting them like the bow of a sailing vessel, shoving them to the sides of the bay, the rest of the pirates dispersed, securing the bay with incidental combat.

Like greyhounds at the slip, boat 2's forty pirates and two slicers jumped, eager, to charge into the heart of the Gwaimalchai and shut down its main reactor. Then the "fun" could being.

Gwaimalchai, Center Common Room

Phon was alone. Noise was coming from the bay. The hull shook with combat but the common room was still, the eye of the storm. "If they get toff the bay we are screwed, huh? Hatch this." Phon disengaged his tubes feeling the bacta sacks on the bacta sacks on the back of his wheelchair to his sleeves. Then and slid off the bactapac sleeves off his arms and legs. He shook the image he caught from Myri of people, passively dying from his head.

The cussion missiles had knocked a lot of stuff loose. So it was relatively easy for Phon stacked his chair and other junk at the send of the corridor. He gingerly strapped on his pistol belt, assembled his laser rifle and found a shooting position, open legs, that did not tug at his new heals so much. He placed the powerpacks carefully into the folds of his river-blue sash and turned off the lights to the bay corridor and the common area. "Thole, non iaculis tellus fomr discordibus. He felt like crying he was so scared. "You can kill me but I won't die a coward. I shouldn't be here. Something is going wrong."

"GO! Go! GO!" With a victorious roar, the Boat 2's pirate band charged down the main corridor.

Phon didn't fumble for the switch. He knew were everything was. Shihan made him practice blindfolded. He turned off the targeting beam of his laser rifle sat on his butt and balanced the rifle on his knee.

Jekel Bes tripped over the body of someone. He looked up and died. The pirates were tripping over bodies. The kill rate and power pack expenditure was linear.

Use to the flash of blaster or even slugthrower, in the dark, the rushing pirates didn't comprehend why the comrades in front of the mob were falling. But, in their exuberance they had fired ahead and the sideblasts did create smoke particles in the air and Phon could see his beams. "Like disco lights. Sith!" When the blasts came, Phon realized they could see his laser too.

As the hail of blaster fire blew his improvised barricade to bits, Phon hid behind the bulkhead.

Some power packs left behind in his retreat, Phon looked to his pistol. "Two packs?" He thought about hiding under the bunk and discarded it. "I am a Thole." Wobbling, he stood. "Why am I wet? Oh. I'm bleeding. The wounds opened. Myri's going to be mad at me.

Need to get more than one at a time. Hey. Maybe it's a good time to try the medium setting." Phon opened the aperture on the pistol and took a low stance, like he was taught, below most beings first vision.

In a V, three non-humans Phon didn't take the time to identify, smashed through his smoldering barricade. Phon shot. He had never used medium before. It shocked him. Acting like a flame thrower, it set the three beings on fire, the petrochemical clothes licked fire and melted on to their flesh. Universally, they raised their hands to their face and screamed. The smell reminded him of a failed Lifeday feast dinner. The next three more pirates faced the same fate.

Then a bronze ball bounced into the common area. 'Thermal detonator!" He ducked beneath the cot and pulled the mattress after him as the beeping intensified, he hugged his rifle close.

DA-42 Hornet Interceptors

Borrowing from form nature, the hornet interceptor was an ironically original and effective design. Usiing an exoskeletal insect at a model, the armor became the exoskeleton. Thrusters in the seams of the exoskeleton and in the "wings" were designed around maneuverability rather than speed. The result was a very inexpensive fighter that jetted along any axis, driving AAA crews mad.

Den looked at the blast door the atmosphere light was red. He popped the locker. The combat veteran didn't even think about how to put on the EVA combat suit and he put it on. He closed the blast door at the end of the access corridor. Vented. The opened the door at the other end. He popped the star belt buckle on the freeze dried corpse and, holding in to the handle of the chair. Heaved it behind him. He ignored the busted transparsteel and breathed a sigh of relief the gunsights were still working.

A hornet interception was hovering right there, covering he boarding form EVA attack. He charged up the gun and counted the seconds. "That's it, watch the shiny, shiny, boarding. Don't look around." He scanned. The other two were circling but not in his range of fire. The charging light turned green. Den slowly moved the yoke and centered on the cockpit and fired. Red bolts shot into the tinted transparsteel of the fighter cockpit, puncturing and detonating within. No fighter ever "died" like that before, it seemed to fold in on itself like a crushed can.

Gwaimalchai, The Bay, Myri

The portable shield generator a pair of pirates in front of her was carrying was frustrating. The only bonus was no one shot back through it. Myri saw the twin of such a device, squeezing the other half of the guards to the other half of half of the landing bay. It were frustrating, Then Myri remembered her dad at the Skyroom yelling, "Focus. Focus all fire where the generator, meets the deck. "She yelled it many times, then the guards saw the red, bleeding through the shield and then poured it on.

Gwaimalchai, Central Common Room, Phon

"I am alive. I can't believe it." The pirates poured in. But in the narrow space of crowded corridors the blade was king. Phon watched as Burgos and his elder sons' vibroknives, at closed quarters proved to have much higher rate of fire than the pirates' blasters, much more reliable and never needed reloading.

Burgos was practically hypnotic. "And his wife is supposed to be the dancer? It's like he knows what they are going to do before they do it. Block. Slice. Block. Slice. Block. Block. Left hand punch in the face. Slice. That guy was good. Damn old man!"

It was Dolor Malo who broke the bad news. "Gamma 2 failed. Guess it's time for the ion cannons." The other two sighed and nodded. The assault shuttle fired and the Gwaimalchai went dark.

Burgos held his vibroknife in his left hand and looked at all the dead around him. The lights had gone red. "Ion cannons! We are on battery! We need to reroute power!"

"But, boss, we need someone to bottle them up."

An unscorched pad flopped down. Phon crawled out from under the cot and showed his rifle. "I got it. You go." Without looking to see if Burgos complied, Phon looked in his case. There were more power packs.

The three hornet fighters had gotten used to the aft quad blaster being dead, Den picked up an easy kill. But soon the other ones were buzzing. Zipping randomly, horizontally, not swooping like the coralskippers he was used to. Zip. Zip. Zip. Miss. Miss. Miss. "Not good." Then the lights went out and his gunsights went dead." The hornet fighter pilot just a couple of meters from his shattered gun port.

The shield melted more than blew and the Gwaimalchai's crew poured into the pirates. Myri focused on putting Flashbang down range on to the opposite shield team. The explosions, smoke and sparks, sent them running.

Then things went dark. The pirates slipped on the lowlight goggles and the infra-red shop lights of a third assault vessel lit up the landing bay, for them. The pirates cheered. Unlike the other two gammas that rammed for space. This assault vessel turned perpendicular to avoid damage.

"Retreat!" firing classic snap shots, the crew of the Gwaimalchai's fled into the side hatches. Myri was the last and sealed the hatch, designed specifically to work without power because that's when one really needs to seal a hatch, behind them.

"What the hell?" The pirate captains watched their personal guard climb over the mound of bodies at the mouth of the main corridor and drop dead, a black gutter burned down their head. "What the hell? With their infra-red telescopic, low-light goggles they could see the flash or report of any weapon,. There was a crude barricade and some movement behind it, but no weapon. Nothing shot or thrown.

"Rodians razors?"

"No. Look at the burns."

"Go on. Get over there." The next pirate's head exploded.

"Infra-red? I bet you can't see my laser, but I can see you." With his telescopic lowlight HUD Phon could see them. He had time to think. He failed last time, because they had time to see his laser in the smoke. "But If I shoot them, just as they pop their head up…"

Another head exploded, this time inside the helmet.

"Helmets don't work."

"Some kind of security device."

"It's a long corridor."

"This is no good. I say we just rig a gamma to blow." Said Dolor Malo.

Dreberts, looked down at the row of exploded heads. "I'm game."

"Oh well," sighed Veracious Ply. "But we blow gamma one. It's an ancient POS Imperial."

"Out! Out! Everyone on Gamma Two!"

Den sat in the dark and hoped his pet dog, Shep, was waiting from him in the afterlife when watched the hornet fighter buzz off. 'Whew. Wait. This is bad."

Myri caught her breath. "These Alderaanians are VERY competent. Not pacifists at all. They fight like they don't have to think about it.

"Hey!" A guard held up a portable camera. "They are leaving." The guards resting in the corridor with her cheered.

"He must have sent up a portable camera. Smart Wait! Wait! This is bad!"

"Phon!"

"Hey, Sandra." With a groan and wince, Phon slung his laser rifle.

"Aren't you going to say I shouldn't be here?"

"Me too. You got your knives?"

She sounded insulted. "Of course!"

"Then you should be here. Your life is on the line too. Unless you want taste you lunch twice, I wouldn't look down. I almost lost it twice already. Your dad is one bad old sithdog."

"Of course he is. Oh, Phon, you are really hurt."

"Haw. It's just the old cuts opening up. It's quiet now. Help me down the corridor. Don't worry, they are running away."

"Your wounds are really opening."

"Figure that out later.

"Check me please. No burns?"

"No."

"That's lucky. We gotta hurry. I got a bad feeling about this."

"Hurry!"

"This dress wasn't made for carrying people!"

"Looks great by the way, well before I got my blood all over it. You look better in earth tones and green."

"Phon, you are losing it."

"Am I?" They reached where the corridor widened to the bay. "Help me over."

"Who killed all these people?"

"I did."

"You and papa?"

"No, just me. Hurry. OH! Take those googles. Gimme one too."

"They smell! And they have…ew! Nothing fits."

"Make do."

In the dark, smoldering corridor, Phon watched the pirates scramble on to just two shuttles, the horizontal one and the starboard one. "Damn. Take me to that shuttle they are abandoning. Hurry!"

Sandra was amazed that so many armed pirates ran past them without even blinking. "This is bad isn't it?"

"The baddest. Last guy here was in such a rush he didn't bother to lock up. Help me inside." Waved his pistol aft and forward. "No one here. You may want to leave. This might get you killed."

"I stand with you!"

"Thank the Force one of us is standing. Getting a little woozy. Get me to the aft."

"But surely the helm…"

"No control rod. Come on."

In the center aft was a small pad with a "C" shaped backrest and a weapons. He sat behind something Sandra thought looked like a blaster. "Damn. The far one would be best. But the near one is in the way. This could really fry our bacon."

"You should get a bow shot. When the horizontal one straightens for exit, Phon."

"Right as always. Woo." Phon shook his head.

Sandra palmed his face and planted a huge smooch on him. "For luck!"

"Of that doesn't get the adrenaline going nothing will. Woo. Got one shot with these things."

"I love you, Phon. It took losing you to make me realize it."

"I love you too."

"Really?"

"Of course, can't toggle love on and off like a switch. You want to try to get your career off to a good footing first. I get it. Speaking of which, help me. Steady me." She hugged his back and steadied his arms. "Good. This is a harpoon gun. Unless I miss my guess, this shuttle's rigged to blow. No other reason to abandon it. We got one shot. If it works, and that's a big 'if' we hit the boss guy, and IF it sticks, he drags this out and blows up. He won't have time for EVA and… hold on…fusion cutters. These cables are….super hard. We hit guy number two, boss comes back and that's bad."

"Phon?"

"I know. You have to help me out of here." The harpoon gun wavered. "You ever shot a big gin…a big gun, before?"

"No."

"Neither have I."

"Oh! It's reversing." Gamma three, three-point turned until it was feet from Phon, carbon scoring the deck. "That's lucky."

"That's stupid. My father would have his manhood if he saw one of his pilots try to maneuver in a crowded bay like that."

"Help me squeeze." Phon felt a recoil and heard a thump. "Did it stick?"

"I think so."

"Get us out of here. Hurry." Sandra was fine but Phon as becoming more and more limp weight. The shuttle began to be dragged backwards. She ended hip heaving out of the front hatch of the shuttle with a bump-bump-bump that made her wince. But he was on the ramp and she followed.

"Ow. I've had better landings."

Sandra watched the lead Gamma get dragged. But the second assault vessel, in its apparent eagerness to distance itself from its "ticking comrade" shoved the lead gamma out and the towed gamma followed. They left thought the emergency shield and Sandra heaved a sigh of relief."

"Sandra? Little help here?" Phon was slipping down the ramp. She knew the emergency sheilds were designed only to hold in air and pressure. Phon would slip into space. Struggling, grabbing, he didn't have the strength to find purchase on the smooth durasteel. He left streaks of blood on the ramp. Closer and closer.

"Phon!" Skittering, feet slipping on his blood, the dancer sprinted to the control panel. "Curly always uses the same code. His anniversary. " She typed in once. Nothing happened. "No power! After the ion cannon, only emergency power will work!"

Phon flailed, his heels grazed the shield making it sparkle. PHON! NO!"

Sandra ran down the ramp, grabbed his rifle and by the strap dragging Phon. But he was heavy, dead weight, and the slick of blood was not making things easier. "Come on Phon, you want to get married don't you?" That got his feet under him. They scrambled.

Finally, they made it to the flat deck and she let him go, kneeling beside him. In the distance, Beings moaned, acrid, blaster-scorched flesh stung her nostrils.

"Thanks. And if it's not too much trouble. Could I get some bandages too? Maybe some water?"

"Sure." The three ships went up and out of her view.

" Hey Sandra?"

"Yes, Phon?" She was at his side.

"If I pass out now, will I die?"

"No, Phon. You won't, I promise."

"Cool." His eyes rolled in his head. "Hey, did you say we are getting married? I forget."

"No. Phon we are not."

"Oh. Shame."

Dreberts, Veracious Ply, Dolor Malo

"Why are we not moving?"

"Tractor beam?"

"Captains, it's Gamma Two! They are telling us to get out of their way."

"Reberts?"

"I'm trying! I'm trying. I can't find out where the drag is coming form is they keep pushing. Order them to stop."

"They are refusing. Malo?"

"Everyone wants to get out of here."

"Damn. Looks like they found a way to jettison Gamma One."

"Just going to have to come back and strafe it. Without power. It may take a while to make sure everything is voided or we hit a vital system."

"Tedious." Malo sighed. "I didn't become a pirate for hard work. Why aren't we moving?" the timer ticked down. "You know that thing is set to blow, right?"

"It's the pushing."

Veracious Ply's eyes went wide. "Wait. Why is it following us?"

Tik. Tik.

"Is someone flying it out?"

Tik. Tik.

"It's not under power, just tumbling."

"Tik Tik."

Then Ply saw the tow cable, rasping on the underside of Gamma Two. "Fusion cutters! We need fusion cutters!"

Bridge of the Gwaimalchai, The Cordona Family

Burgos was grim. His wife bandaged the slice on his right arm, saving the Medpac for the others. Then splinted the two fingers on his left hand. He had gotten enough systems back he was able to watch the two Gamma's depart. "The boat they left will explode. Someone wanted us dead and handsomely for it. Darling?" His wife read his mind. They kissed long and hard.

"Sir? There are three Gammas."

"What? But I was sure…"

All the people on the bridge saw three boats flying very strangely, off balance

"Zoom in. A tow cable! Are they tangled?"

"Their engines are red lining."

"Captain! The auxiliaries are back on line."

"Best speed now!

From an uncomfortably close distance, on a tiny, temporary screen, the Burgos family watched one Gamma explode after the other.

"What happened?"

"Later. Now we find out how bad we are hurt. Captain, get this ship to Alderaan. XO? The wounded."

DA-42 Central Common Rooms

Almost every ship has a central common room. They are utilitarian. They can be used for mess, bunks, drill, assembly areas and med bays.

Phon woke up and saw Sandra. He smiled. He was on a pad, on the deck of the central common room, along with a score of others dress in blue. Hoses connected him and Sandra. "This feels familiar."

"One good turn deserves another." She smiled.

Burgos entered, is right arm in a sling.

"Oh hello, Mister Burgos or Cordona or whatever…."

"Phfft. You can call me Prince of Alcazar for all I care. Do your remember what you did?"

"Uh, shooting. And a harpoon and tow cable with Sandra here." He smiled.

"That is right. You and your laser stacked up the boarding party at the main corridor. You saved my ship."

"Oh, that's good."

You killed by my count forty two pirates, that's almost a whole assault shuttle."

Phon remembered the time dilating. "I did?"

"Yes and after avoiding the worst of a thermal detonator, you and my daughter launched the harpoon gun that tangled and destroyed all the enemy."

"The thermal? I thought I was dead?"

"It was covering yourself with the pad. All pads aboard ship are fireproofed. Last thing we need is burning foam rubber. Oh, yes, they serve as a flotation device in case of water landing too. Got some smoke in your lungs though."

"Good to know." Phon laid back, closed his eyes and remained himself the room was NOT spinning.

"How did you know about their harpoon gun?"

Phon kept his eyes closed. He didn't care if Burgos thought him rude. "It's a Gamma. They all have them for boarding and moving equipment. I equipped them in the war. Wait what?"

"You are a hero, Phon." That was Myri.

That got his eyes open. Myri!" She pushed him down with the flat of her hand. "You okay?"

"Fine. Thanks to you. I think you missed your calling." She kissed him, long, low and tenderly. "I'm glad you're are okay, we saw you, in the bay. But I could not get to you. I'm sorry."

"You can make it up to me later. Burgos?"

"Yes, nephew?"

"This was a hit. Who?"

"Roehmer. It's him or us."

"I vote for him." Phon laid back.

"How do you feel?"

"Angry. I had dream once. He said he was going to kill me. I think it should be the other way around now."

"You rest now. The good news is that most of injury is blood loss for wounds opening. Thanks to Myri's overpacking we have bacta for everybody when we land on New Alderaan. Best health plan in the galaxy."

New Alderaan. Campaign office to elect Earl Eric Roehmer Governor of New Alderaan

Kyle was no Tearee. "Leaked report from our source in Security just came in sir. The Gwaimalchai is en route. All the principals are in adequate health and except for two hornet interceptors, all the pirates area dead or wounded and detained."

"Let me see that. "PHON!"

"Deputy Burgos has been on the net making some very strong accusations."

Kyle stood there as his boss thought. Then Roehmer checked the leaked report one more time. "Yes. This could work out, before he and his wife have a real press conference. Sometimes it's best to rip the bandage off."

New Alderaan, Maseta Space Port, Phon, Myri, Sandra & Family.

Burgos walked down the ramp. Both Myri and Sandra made sure Phon was back in the wheelchair. His bacta sleeves had been burned. Now his arms were mummified in dancer silk dresses, like many of his new "cousins."

Before his eyes had a chance to adjust, Phon heard Burgos growl. "This is convenient." The tone was such that Phon was sure it was Burgos "kill every man in the room" tone.

There was Roehmer. He was surrounded by a battalion of men and women with gold silk sashes and knives.

Men and women, mostly wounded, sashed in blue, cupped Burgos.

Phon had never seen whole space port go silent. But now he did. Blue sashed men and women dropped whatever they were doing and circled the whole scene. There were more in gold but Phon gauged he would not bet against the River Guild for quality. More and more arrived.

"What is he up to?" Ask Myri. "He must know time is not on his side. Soon, he'll be outnumbered."

Sandra gasped. "It's not about numbers. He's waiting for witnesses!"

"Seignior. I am not here to talk." Roehmer threw down a gauntlet. "I have heard the vicious lies you have been spreading about me and I demand satisfaction."

"What the Sith?"

"Shh. It's an honor duel."

Phon whispered to Sandra. "But he can't. His knife arm is wounded."

"That doesn't matter. In the Code, he was supposed to consider that before his spoke."

"Can he get a champion, a proxy?"

"No. Papa knows to fight with his off hand."

"With two broken fingers? I probably saw when he did it too."

Burgos reached for the glove.

"No!" Phon pushed himself up. "No! I accept the challenge."

Burgos was amused. "I thank the Senator for Corellia but this is an Alderaanian matter."

"Leia make me a knight right? And besides, you said, you owe me two favors on the holo for everyone one to see. Well I'm calling in those markers now! Someone needs to kill this sonofasith and it might as well be me! You owe me."

"I do." A pin could have dropped. "Roehmer?"

"Nothing would give me more pleasure."

Sandra looked straight ahead. She was shaking. "As challenged , you have choice of weapon. Phon. Blaster or folding knife. He chooses time and place."

"Blaster."

"Covertine Field. Dawn."

Coruscant, Jedi Temple, Luke, Horn, Ben, Sorran Utep, Wight,

"I am asking you for a mission of mercy."

"For a Remnant?" Horn practically spat it.

"It's your Force that is driving him mad."

"I've heard enough." The Grandmaster spoke. "Utep? Wight? Want do you think?"

"It's what the skill was originally for."

"But only if he truly wants it."

"We could bring him to the Temple, teach him.."

"And his wife and child?"

"He has a point. I've been thinking, Maybe my father would not have turned out the way he didn't if he wasn't separated from his mother at such a young age."

"You are not suggesting…

"I am only saying there might be other ways. The Sith thinks in absolutes. Maybe the Temple isn't for everyone, not at first.

Tell me Commodore, this New Dawn, if we cure this Trooper of yours, do you think there would be a place to establish a Jedi…Abbey? Some place where younger Jedi could run and play with their families until they decided to join or not join the Jedi?"

"I confess, your open gesture puts me on my heels. Yes. I think the Presidium could be persuaded."

"Corran I can think of no one better qualified to lead this effort."