The hum of instruments never ceased. The lights never dimmed. The very air was stale and recycled...it tasted metallic and smelled rancid. When she arrived, Omega caught a glimpse of the beautiful outside of Mt. Tannis or the lush landscape of Weyland, and caught a breath of fresh air near the loading bays and hangar, but since then she'd been in the holding cell or the lab. Nala Se had argued for her release as a valuable asset and medical assistant, but the Empire had other ideas. Apparently she was to be "tested" by someone within a day or two.

Pfft. Tested. Whatever.

Omega shook her head and sighed as she looked around the holding cell. She thought she'd never hear the constant mechanical and electric buzzing, see the never-dimming artificial lights, and feel trapped inside a fabricated world when she left Kamino with Hunter, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker all those weeks ago. She thought she had escaped this trapped life. Even when she had to go back to Tipoca City to rescue Hunter, she knew it was only a visit. She remembered feeling bittersweet about the destruction of Kamino. On one hand, she hated her limited world, the endless labs and sterile corridors, and even more sterile attitudes of the Kaminoans. It was still her home world, and she still missed it a tiny bit some days. However, now that she'd experienced life in the wider galaxy, she couldn't stand the artificial setting. Especially in a holding cell. She curled her legs up to her chin, running her hand along the hard bench.

She missed the feel of dirt, the sound of birds, the light and heat of suns, the chill of a gusty breeze. She missed the new tastes and odd smells and sounds, the variety of creatures and cultures, the freedom and unpredictability of life. But mostly she missed her squad...Damra and her brothers...even Crosshair. She felt as if she and Crosshair had finally begun to develop a bond, only to have things fall apart again when that rat of a tail head Anoon tried to bargain for his wife and son with Omega's life. She scowled, then softened her eyes, remembering that his gamble did not pay off, finding pity in her heart that overcame her anger.

Poor Anoon. He betrayed everyone and still lost everything. Only the Empire had won.

Stupid Empire.

It all came down to the stupid Empire. What she wouldn't give to blow this entire place up just so the Empire would have to clean up the mess. Omega smiled a little, thinking about how much Wrecker would love to help. Then she frowned again, thinking about how much she missed him. She sighed as she thought about all the people that might get hurt if she did that...maybe she'd just make a big mess of the cloning projects Nala Se was in charge of instead of trying to destroy the whole facility. She looked around and pondered how best to pull that off. She hadn't gotten very far when Nala Se's voice brought her out of her musings.

"Good morning, Omega," said Nala Se in her slow, lilting voice. Omega looked up and smiled at the tall creature standing in front of the ray shield. She didn't want to admit that she still liked this individual, but it was the truth. Nala Se was the nicest of the Kaminoans, and had protected her for so long. If she had to be in the grasp of the Empire, wherever Nala Se happened to be was probably the safest place. So far Nala Se had made sure Omega was isolated from the other subjects and even given some freedom (although she had an electronic ankle monitor keeping her within reach and a set of commandos escorting her everywhere). She scowled again. Stupid Kaminoans...they were pawns of the stupid Empire. She shook her head, exhausted by the swings in her mood. She wished they would stop, and that the aches in her legs would go away.

"Good Morning," she said, standing up and putting her hands behind her back.

"I would like to have this medical droid examine you," said Nala Se, with as much of a knowing glance as possible, given her lack of real facial expression. Omega cocked an eyebrow, and Nala Se continued. "I do not think you've seen this particular model before." AZI hovered into view as Nala Se lowered the ray shield. Omega's eyes widened in surprise, but the halting look on Nala Se's face gave her enough of a clue, and Omega trusted Nala Se enough, to stop the words of surprise and happiness from falling out of her mouth. Instead, she regained her composure and nodded. Nala Se smiled in affirmation of her behavior and continued. "I have also arranged a visit with a particular geneticist who..." but Nala Se was cut off as the sound of brisk footsteps echoed louder and louder. Officer Dain entered, followed by H8R and...Damra. Again, Omega had to work hard to suppress her impulse to rush over to Damra and greet her enthusiastically. Nala Se's three-fingered hand on her shoulder only confirmed that Omega needed to remain calm and reserved, and act as if nothing interesting happened. Her stomach clenched and then fluttered...this must be it...this must be the rescue! She couldn't help but look around the droids and Damra to see her brothers...Hunter said they were coming. All the hours of worry and doubt faded away as hope and trust burgeoned in her chest.

"Lieutenant Commander Par, this is the clone in question," said Nala Se evenly. "You are aware of many of our experiments with the Jango Fett clones. This is the only Force-sensitive clone we successfully engineered." Then she turned to Omega. "Lieutenant Commander Par wishes to evaluate you ahead of your testing tomorrow," murmured Nala Se. Omega nodded and looked nervously at Damra. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that Damra's face sported hues of purple, green, and pink from bruises that were a day or two old, and she had a half-healed cut on her lip for some reason. Nala Se and Officer Dain began speaking about the current projects, but Omega focused on Damra as she approached solemnly with her hands behind her back. AZI had immediately hovered over to Omega and began his exam without preamble. He was still scanning, poking, and prodding her. Damra looked critically at Omega for a few seconds. Then she spoke.

"This is your Force-sensitive clone?" she called over her shoulder to Nala Se, her voice heavy with skepticism. Nala Se nodded and Dain spoke up.

"So Nala Se claims. But we can't confirm that right now, we can only confirm M count. She needs to be assessed by someone else who is Force-sensitive. Lord Vader will be here within a day or so, then we'll see." she said, with a sideways glare at Nala Se. Dain had no problem displaying her doubts. Nala Se scowled defensively.

"I can assure you she is Force-sensitive," bristled the tall Kaminoan.

"Maybe. But we still can't identify what specifically in the protocol solicited it, even with the new data from Kolac Pru that Par dug up," Dain hissed irritably. "And of the millions of clones you engineered, you have exactly one that you claim is Force-sensitive. The Empire can't really afford that rate of success...or should I say...failure." As Nala Se and Officer Dain began bickering, Damra stepped closer under the pretense of inspecting Omega.

"We're getting you out of here tonight," she breathed. "You will have to convince the guards to let you out."

"How?" murmured Omega, eyes wide with fright. Alema had taught her that most people had a weak mind and could be manipulated with the Force, but she'd never explained how to do it. Omega didn't have a clue where to begin, and she didn't exactly feel super confident in her abilities right now. Hearing Dain voice her doubts about Omega's capabilities, whether directly personal or not, didn't help.

"Tell them with your mind, not just your words," said Damra as she bent over to examine Omega's ankle cuff. "I have no qualms about your abilities. Once you're out, avoid the cameras and head to the hangar," she breathed, before turning away.

"Well?" said Dain, impatiently. As Damra engaged Dain and Nala Se in conversation, AZI floated in front of Omega and began rattling away.

"Greetings! I am AZI-345211896246498721347, your assigned medical assistant," he droned loudly. "I am sure I will see you again," whispered the droid, and one of his eyes flickered in what Omega was certain was a wink. AZI headed for the exit, and Omega simply smiled as she watched him go. Then she turned to the scientists and tuned into their conversation.

"...not sure how that will improve anything," said Damra, eyeing Officer Dain with distinct scrutiny. "If Nala Se's unique protocol yielded the primary objective, it deserves consideration." She began walking towards the exit, and everyone followed. Omega took notice of every camera as she walked, plotting out a route in her mind.

"Nala Se," said Dain, turning to the Kaminoan as she walked. "You said yourself that you cannot pinpoint what specifically within your modified protocol solicited the result, did you not?" Nala Se nodded once in agreement. Dain turned triumphantly to Damra.

"Look," said Damra, patiently, "What you are doing right now isn't even yielding a viable clone. Nothing's even made it out of the tube. If you have 100% failure for viability, you automatically have 100% failure for Midi-chlorian augmentation. You have to start with viability before you can even begin to attempt to augment the M-count." The continued down the hallway, flanked by Omega's ever-present clone detail.

Omega listened attentively, but not to the words. She tried listening to her feelings, like she did when they were on Ryloth and she knew there was a spy, but it was hard with all the cold, lifeless surroundings. She felt like an out-of-tune instrument. She scowled in frustration, the temporary confidence given by Damra slowly deflating like a punctured ball. Damra gave her half a glance, nodded once with a very knowing look, then turned attentively to Nala Se, who had begun speaking.

"Strand-casting is, by definition, unpredictable," she said in her slow cadence. "Following a prescribed protocol would help." Officer Dain frowned a little. Then she turned to Damra.

"What about using nanites to improve viability?" she asked brusquely. Damra smiled internally, grateful for another piece of ammunition to cast about. She'd spent the previous day sowing seeds of mistrust and doubt between Officer Dain and Nala Se. She'd been careful not to take anyone's side, but play the devil's advocate, poking very accurate holes in both of the programs. This sort of sabotage, coupled with bad data, would continue to delay any progress the Imperial Cloning program might gain.

As they entered the cloning lab, Damra rubbed her forehead absently, wincing as she found a bruise, and appeared deep in thought for a moment, when she heard a hissing sigh escape the little girl's nose. Omega's impatience was getting the better of her, and Damra could tell. Under the guise of rubbing her head, Damra turned her shielded eyes and gave Omega a stern raise of the eyebrow. Omega immediately sensed that Damra needed her to pay attention. Omega relaxed and placed her hands behind her back, and Damra gave her the shadow of a wink, before removing her hand from her forehead and looking at Dain.

"That suggestion has merit," said Damra, knowing how the Kaminoans hated nano droids. Nala Se scowled. Damra continued. "We need to at least create viability for starters. I know for a fact the Empire does not tolerate failure."

"And yet here we are, mired in failed specimens," said Rampart, nodding to the stasis tubes filled with grotesquely distorted clones. Damra turned around as quickly as her sore and broken body would allow. Rampart had strolled up with Tarkin and Crosshair in tow.

Omega eyed the men with distaste. Then she attempted, again, to feel that deception she'd noticed on Ryloth...when she sensed the traitor...wondering if Crosshair was truly an ally. All she could sense was a hunger from the Admirals...a savage desire for power and control, a need to win at all costs. She felt nothing from Crosshair...it was like he was an empty shell. Omega's brow furrowed in concern. Could she even use the Force at all?

Damra took a deep steadying breath, somewhat oblivious to Omega's issues; Damra felt too deeply mired in her own problems to notice much else at the moment. She had the distinct impression that, contrary to whatever Tarkin said in the interrogation room, he did NOT trust her. She had to nail this down and eliminate any suspicion.

"I know I can help improve the outcomes of this program. But the Empire needs to change its methodology," she said, idly spinning her thumb ring. Both Rampart and Tarkin exchanged glances.

"You've spent a day and a half scrutinizing our program and integrating your knowledge and new data. What would you suggest first?" said Tarkin, raising an eyebrow.

"First, give up the notion that donor or template M-count has an impact on the strandcast M-count, for starters," she said baldly, placing her hands firmly behind her back, her chin lifted confidently. Both Tarkin and Rampart scowled in cynicism. Damra shored up her argument.

"In the course of my duties, I obtained data from a rogue Kaminoan scientist who spent decades trying to engineer Force-sensitive beings. His research was abandoned a long time ago because Midi-chlorian augmentation failed to yield a viable clone every time, with far fewer variables than this freak show," she said, waving her hands at the various stasis tubes filled with gruesome and distorted strandcasts, all of them non-viable. Rampart's and Tarkin's eyes narrowed in dislike for the truth of their failures, and Damra saw that she'd struck a chord...that she'd cracked the surface and could begin worming her way into their psyches as well.

Acting uninhibited by the reactions, Damra turned and walked to the nearest consol, the Admirals, scientists, and Crosshair trailing behind. H8R had uploaded the modified Kolac Pru data, and Damra pulled it up. She highlighted the outcomes, so that the word "FAILED" shone bright red. As an afterthought, she made them flash annoyingly, reminding anyone looking at the screen of the failures. She scrolled through the endless entries. "Here, look," she said, pointing to the data set. "Each of these specimens were viable in vitro until the Midi-chlorian agent was introduced. The geneticist attempted to enhance M-count as the clone was in development, but even though the smallest amount of agent was introduced, the integration went awry 100% of the time." She turned to the Admirals. "Kolak Pru carefully controlled everything and had no success. This program controls NOTHING except the genetic template and has reached 100% failure as well. It's time to inject some control." Tarkin and Rampart exchanged glances. Damra smirked...she was getting somewhere now.

"The nature of Force-sensitivity is random. The Empire insists on extreme variance in this program to encourage the desired outcome," said Tarkin, slowly and critically.

Oh, so Tarkin wanted to play, did he? "Fine. Bring it, old man," thought Damra.

"Of course, Admiral," replied Damra, nodding and bowing just a little. She had to make sure Tarkin felt superior...she had to feed his ego a little before she could break his walls. Then she straightened up and continued, widening her eyes rather innocently. "But you do have a built-in control, you are simply forgetting about it," she replied calmly. Rampart and Tarkin looked quizzically at Damra. She obliged with a slightly smug answer. "The template is your control, which leads me to my second piece of advice. Officer Dain's right. Get the nanites involved. They can make your strandcast viability numbers improve significantly." Tarkin scowled darkly, eyeing the failed experiments with a slightly sour expression while Rampart puzzled and Dain seemed to vibrate with excitement. Damra knew the Admirals trusted Dain, and she knew Rampart at least still had issues with Nala Se. Rampart seemed to trust Damra but Tarkin was the issue.

"How?" asked Rampart.

"The template is human?" said Damra, turning to Tarkin. He nodded. She turned back to the console and punched up the Kaminoan research data on human clones. "Lucky guy. We have more data on the human genome than any other species," she said, pecking away at the keyboard. After a moment, she spoke. "Here. These are the sections of the genome that can successfully be manipulated and modified without sacrificing viability." She pointed to various lines of genetic code that were lit up in green. She turned to look at the Admirals with a proud smile. They both looked nonplussed.

"And what good is that information?" snapped Tarkin. Damra's expression remained cool and confident as she responded.

"Does it not make sense to cast strands strategically into a genome so as to enhance or augment it, but not destroy viability?" she said, raising her eyebrows. The Admirals both nodded, Tarkin looking somewhat contrite. Damra smiled and continued, pointing at the screen again. "Ok. This is specifically where you need to integrate foreign DNA in your template in order to achieve a viable clone," said Damra patiently. "What you are currently doing impacts viability because you are randomly invading the template's genome. You can still continue inserting random strands of DNA from various species but you can't be flippant about WHERE in the genome you place it. That's where the nanites come in." She turned to the medical officer, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Nanites can specifically remove these presumably non-essential pieces of the template's genome and splice in the strands. You'll get the enhancements without sacrificing viability and you can do it on a massive scale using nanites."

"Viability is an objective, but M-count should not be sacrificed," snapped Tarkin. "I do not wish to employ an unsuccessful methodology..." but Damra interrupted.

"What good is a high M-count in a non-viable specimen, Admiral?" she replied, trying to to sound too brash (it was tough, she wanted to call him an idiot outright). "Begin with getting something that is actually alive, THEN focus on augmentation. At this point, you've not had any success at all, either with the enhanced clone or the augmentation. If you can at least get a viable clone from strandcasting, then you can focus on solving the problem with M-count. Think about it. If you have all of these," she gestured around to all the failed experiments, "As viable specimens, you have so many more opportunities to work the augmentation angle. Right now you have exactly ZERO viable clones to augment. You're guaranteed to fail with ZERO opportunities." Rampart smirked a little, glancing sideways at Tarkin, who appeared to be chewing his tongue. Apparently it tasted bitter. Damra celebrated internally. That was as close to a win as she'd get.

"Nanites can do this?" said Rampart, curiously.

"Officer Dain? Would you care to enlighten everyone?" Damra asked, turning to Officer Dain.

"Of course!" said Dain, nearly shouting in anticipation and excitement.

"Commander," said Nala Se over Dain's shouts, "You should be medically assessed. You have not been evaluated since your injuries." Crosshair looked at the Admirals, both of whom were trying to follow along as Dain yammered on and Damra's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she turned back to the Admirals. They spared him half a glance and nodded, waving him off. As Dain plowed through an excited and somewhat rambling explanation, Crosshair turned to follow Nala Se and Omega, who led the way with AZI to the nearby medical bay while Crosshair covered them all with his sidearm, dismissing the clone commandos. Within a minute they'd entered a large medical bay.

"I'm taking Omega off-world," Crosshair said without preamble. Nala Se slowly turned to face him as Omega whipped around. Omega swiftly walked up to Crosshair and grasped his hand, her eyes shining with tears. He nodded, unsmiling, and turned back to face Nala Se, his jaw set and his eyes fierce.

"I do not think that is safe," she intoned in her soft, slow, lilting voice. "She wears a monitor and will trigger not only alarms, but the life sensors when you exit the facility."

"No," contradicted Crosshair. He briefly explained the plan. Nala Se didn't like it at all. Crosshair persisted. "What's unsafe is leaving her here in the grasp of the Empire. You can't protect her, even with your status." Nala Se finally relented, with a slow and sad nod of her head.

"I would suggest carbonite as a much safer alternative to sedation, as she can remain safely encased nearly indefinitely," said Nala Se, with as much of a caring and tender look as her rigid features would allow. She placed her 3 fingered hand tenderly on Omega's shoulder.

"I can ensure she is safely frozen in carbon for the journey," said AZI. Crosshair and Nala Se nodded.

"Isn't that dangerous?" asked Omega, her eyes a little wide.

"It's safer than walking the line between anesthesia and euthanasia for an undetermined period of time," said Crosshair quietly. "AZI, get her in carbonite and meet me at the loading docks. Don't be late." He turned to leave abruptly.

"CT 9904, I require a moment with you," said Nala Se. Crosshair stopped and turned to face his former owner. "CT 9904, you are a risk to Omega. You have remnants of your inhibitor chip, and are therefore left with a certain loyalty to the Empire," intoned the tall Kaminoan.

"All you've left me with is a headache," hissed Crosshair, narrowing his eyes in dislike.

"Nanites!" shouted Omega. Everyone turned to look at her. She was bouncing excitedly. "Nanites can take out the remnants!" she said. "Nanites can be programmed to seek-and-destroy any material without your genetic code. All foreign bodies can be eliminated without using the surgical pod." She looked proudly at Nala Se, who nodded in affirmation, despite her dislike of the technology.

"It's actually a simple program," said Omega confidently as she walked over to AZI and plugged him into the consol. She began pulling up data on Crosshair's individual genome. "Nala Se," she said without turning around, "Where did you file the genetic code for the part of the chip you removed?" Nala Se gracefully ambled over and helped Omega. Crosshair scowled impatiently.

"Is this really the time?" he hissed.

"Yes," said Omega, not looking at him. "I'm not going to give anyone the chance to intensify anything that might make you try to hurt us...again..." She winced a little, unsure if she'd gone too far. She heard Crosshair hiss through his nose and gave him half a glance. Crosshair was deep in thought. He had nearly declined the offer and left, but those words weighed heavily on him. He did not want to allow any chances for his chip to take control. Admittedly, the exercise on the Wraith, grounding him in who he was, made a huge difference. He felt no loyalty to the Empire and could easily continue this ruse. Every time he felt his familiar neural pathways taking over, leading him to destroy and hate, he focused on his identity...who he truly was...until even the headaches had nearly disappeared. Nearly. Could it be that the chip could still take over? Or was he strong enough in his conviction to overcome it?

"Almost done," whispered Omega, concentrating hard. "Crosshair, get on the table," she ordered. He obliged with a very nasty glare and a pointed huffy sigh. He stared at the ceiling, trying to remain calm. Everyone flinched a little as the door slid open.

"Ah," said Tarkin. "How is the enhanced clone?" he asked Nala Se, placing his hands behind his back and looking at Crosshair. Rampart and Damra walked in behind him. Damra's eyes widened in horror as they fell upon Crosshair, wondering what they'd done to him. She looked sharply at Omega, who had quickly spun around from the console when they had entered, but Omega's surprised features offered no comfort. Crosshair sat up, his legs dangling off the table. His deadpan expression yielded no additional support either. Damra's pulse quickened in fear.

"CT 9904 remains a top specimen," said Nala Se. "He is indicative of the successful experimentation on a single genome." She eyed Tarkin somewhat disparagingly. Tarkin remained aloof.

"His programming remains active?" asked Tarkin. Nala Se nodded. Damra's heart jumped into her throat. Did his programming get enhanced? Nala Se wouldn't do that, would she? Would Omega let it happen?

"Good. Commander, I have secured the transfer you requested," said Tarkin, handing a data card to Crosshair, who got off the table and accepted it wordlessly. "You will find the information you need for your new assignment as well as the location of the ARC-170 on this card. You may depart at your leisure." Crosshair nodded again with a slight scowl. Then, acknowledging dismissal, left quietly. He lightly brushed against Damra as he exited, hoping that he could convey more than just the casual gesture, desperate to communicate with her. Tarkin and Rampart had turned to discuss the nanites and didn't notice, but Damra had leaned ever so slightly into his path as well, and glanced down for the fraction of a second to watch his shoulder brush hers.

"He's ok," she thought.

That night, back in her holding cell, Omega covered herself in a blanket and feigned sleep. They'd spent the rest of the day working with the nanites after having convinced the Admirals of their value to the strand-casting program. Omega knew in her heart that the nanites would only marginally improve the viability of the strand casting program. Damra had left out some key information in her discussion, specifically how much of the human genome could be invaded before losing viability. But with the admirals so eager to see success, and Dain so obviously excited to employ the technology, Omega was sure they'd implement it for at least the foreseeable future until they realized that a mass modification would fail. Nala Se had opposed the nanites from the beginning...Omega hoped she'd be safe from any retribution. While they'd hoped to help her as well, Nala Se refused, saying she'd rather work here than try to return to her homeworld, which was too painful.

Omega remained deep in thought. Her heart skipped a beat as she heard footsteps, and she snapped her eyes wide open. She raised her head a fraction of an inch and slyly glanced towards the ray shield. The steps came clanking closer and closer until H8R came into view. Omega frowned in confusion. Why was H8R here?

"I require access to the clone," said H8R.

"Our orders are to let no one in," said the trooper. H8R merely stood there, glaring (if he could have) at Omega. With a tiny gasp, Omega sat up. This must be her cue! She wasn't quite ready for this, but she took several deep breaths, and then spoke in a quiet but firm voice.

"You will let the droid in," she said. Both troopers startled, looked in at her, then at each other. One of them rattled his helmet a little. Clearly they were confused, but not convinced. Omega frowned a little, but pushed down her anxiety, doubt, and fear in favor of confidence and control. She could feel the Force billowing up in her as she imagined the joy of seeing her brothers again, and she channeled all her energy into the words. She envisioned them leaving her mouth as tendrils of energy, snaking into the minds of the guards. "You will let the droid in." She didn't stop sending her shoots of bright, warm energy, even after the words stopped falling from her mouth. She was telling them with her mind and the Force long after her words had echoed into silence.

"We will let the droid in," said the troopers in unison, turning and lowering the ray shield.

"You will retire from your shift now," said Omega, as H8R stepped inside. Again, the words merely gave form to the powerful energy she sent through their minds. The clones lowered their weapons and departed quickly in unison. Omega imagined her energy following them until they were out of reach, then she exhaled, slumping over. She felt exhausted. That was tough! H8R helped her remove the cuff and placed it on his own ankle. From his chest cavity he drew out another outfit similar to Omegas and donned it, along with a cloak. He handed a similar cloak to Omega and motioned towards the door, asking her to raise the ray shield once she'd left. She obliged as H8R assumed her place on the bench under the covers, looking for all the world like a little girl.

Omega raced to the hangar as quietly as she could. AZI darted out of a corridor and caught her by the arm. She nearly screamed, but managed to stifle it just in time. AZI led her to the carbon freezing unit and with a very high level of trepidation, Omega stepped in.

"See you soon," she whispered to AZI, who nodded, winked, and activated the freezing unit.

Crosshair exited his quarters and headed for the ARC-170. He was unsurprised to see AZI waiting for him in the hangar, standing beside a repulsorlift ladened with cargo. He nodded to the droid, who sailed away, leaving him to load the crates onto the ship. Crosshair secured the cargo and took the pilot's seat with a shaking hand. He powered up the ARC-170. As he lifted off and slowly exited the hangar, comm scan signaled. He maintained his course, provided the info on the data card, and held his breath. He knew this would work, why was he so nervous? He scowled and focused. "Trust her. Trust her. Trust her," he droned internally. He slowly felt his jaw relax and his shoulders drop. He exhaled any doubt, and patiently waited for comm scan to reply.

"Scans indicate you are clear, CT 9904. Safe travels," came the response. Crosshair exhaled again, responded tersely, and quickly exited the atmosphere, jumping to hyperspace as soon as he could without giving up his casual flight pattern. Once he'd made the jump, he set the autopilot and quickly walked to the cargo bay. His heart raced a little, but as he looked at all the green indicators on the carbon-encased little girl, it slowed.

"She's ok," murmured Crosshair quietly to himself. "She's safe." He'd have her carbonite encasing disengaged once they were safely on the Defiance and in the medical bay, with supportive care and technology at the ready, just in case.

He prayed to the maker that Damra was, too. The doubts in his mind surrounding her safe return were not so easily assuaged as the ones for Omega. No matter how hard he tried, Crosshair couldn't shake the worries over the next part of this mission. He had minor misgivings about the plan, but the seed of doubt planted by Nala Se regarding his chip remnants grew like a poisonous fine in his mind...creeping into his psyche and disrupting his confidence. Could he do what he had to? Or would his chip prevent him from following through on the plot against the Empire? Surely not...here he was stealing away with a very prized possession. If he could do this without hesitation or misgivings, he could definitely complete the rest of the mission, couldn't he? He hissed and scowled as a sharp pain throbbed in his temple.

It was technically morning, but for all intents and purposes, it was night. These post-midnight hours didn't really count as hours of the morning as far as Damra was concerned. Mornings meant waking to watch sunrises, drink hot caf, and face the day with intention. It did not mean lying awake in anticipation. She looked at her watch.

It was time.

She leapt from her rack and headed straight for the door. She paused before exiting, steeled herself, and cleared her mind. She needed to stay focused. She leaned forward and exited with purpose. She stole silently through the corridors, evading the patrols, until she reached the armory. She used the access card she'd lifted from one of the troopers to enter, grabbed a pair riot sticks, and sprinted away. They weren't exactly like the tonfa she'd practiced with, but they were a close approximation and she needed all the help she could get for his part of the ruse. As she neared Omega's holding cell, she slowed. It was nearly morning, and the second shift would be arriving shortly. Sure enough, she could hear them trooping down the hallway towards her. She dodged into an adjacent corridor to listen. She heard their footsteps falter from their crips, rhythmic cadence.

"Hey...where are Junkie and Wingnut?" asked one of the approaching troopers.

"Looks like they went AWOL. We're not supposed to leave our post until we're relieved," said the second trooper in a suspicious voice. They had reached the doorway and Damra saw them glance in.

"At least she's still in there," said the first trooper. "Should we report this?" The second trooper sighed heavily.

"I don't want to, do you?" he asked his companion, who shook his head. As they discussed their dilemma in low voices, Damra sprinted out with her batons at the ready, channeling all her energy into making Tech proud. She knocked both of the weapons away from the surprised troopers before they could fire, but now they were both alert to the threat. One had engaged Damra while the other was calling for assistance. She felt like she was fighting Hunter...the trooper was fast, cunning, and not at all put off by her melee weapons. Grunts and shouts echoed through the hallway for several tense moments before Damra was finally able to land a hard knee-strike and bring her opponent down, and finish him with a strong uppercut. The trooper keeled over to reveal his companion bearing down on Damra, his weapon drawn.

"Freeze!" he shouted. Damra ignored him, dived sideways, and felt the hot energy pulse as it just missed her. She rolled up and raised her weapons, ready to take this new challenger. He shot another blaster bolt straight at her, and she raised her forearm reflexively. The blaster bolt deflected off the beskar vambrace hidden beneath her uniform. In confusion, the trooper pulled up short, but that was his downfall. Damra smiled as H8R stunned the trooper from behind. She nodded at her beloved droid and together they made for the hangar. They'd successfully alerted everyone to their escape, now they just needed to actually escape. Within minutes she was dragging a cloaked and hooded H8R up the gangplank and powering up the Pathfinder. Several warning lights flashed and the wail of the sirens seemed to pierce her eardrums. There were now several commandos in pursuit and they began firing on the Wraith. Damra blasted forward as the bay doors closed rapidly.

H8R began screaming in binary and Damra replied "I know, I know, just hang on!" At the last minute she angled the Wraith between the teeth of the bay doors and just escaped, hoping the loud crash and sharp jolt meant only a bump or scratch. "H8R, talk to me," she said nervously as she rocketed away at an unsafe speed given the unknown terrain. H8R informed her of the systems damaged, that there was a homing beacon on the ship, and that three Imperial ships were in pursuit. "Perfect," said Damra, with a wry smile. She streaked skyward, rolling and pitching to avoid the enemy fire. She'd engaged the new shield array, but it wasn't necessary. She easily out-maneuvered the small fighters and was jumping to hyperspace before the Empire could even land a shot. Now...all she had to do was wait until they arrived at the coordinates, and hope that Crosshair was still up for the game. She slipped off her thumb ring and handed it to H8R, who was busy in the lab. "Ok buddy, let's get to work," she said, joining him at the workbench.

She really hoped Crosshair could see this ruse through to the end...and that he could see through this ruse at the end.