Shesharile 5 is not a pretty place. In fact, it's a dump. Say the words 'cess pit' to any resident of the Minos Cluster, and they'll think of Shesharile 5. They even sound similar. Kind of. Anyway, even if the name was changed, it'd still be a dump. So please, picture the scene.
Years of pollution have devastated this moon's ecology. Even when it became obvious that the pollution was gaining the upper hand over the various initiatives that had been spawned to combat it, the polluting continued. The efforts of the planet's corrupt government were turned to pleasing the Imperial occupiers, so when they pulled out, the whole place collapsed. Criminal gangs now run Shesharile 5 and its twin 'planet', Shesharile 6. Today happens to be a particularly disgusting one - murky, wet and utterly foul. Shesharile, the gas giant around which the moons orbit, is a big, fat, ugly, muddy smear on the sky. Nobody is in a good mood today.
Especially not Yerkys ne Dago. He is a Twi'lek, he has a foul temper at the best of times, and he is very well muscled. When angry, his left lekku, one of two flexible head appendages packed with sensory organs, 'brain tails' as they are called ('lekku' in the Twi'leki language), flexes. Today, it looks like an enraged and injured Delboan sand snake. Or a violent ysalimiri on spice.
"Sir," began Broa Denan, ne Dago's major domo in a subdued voice, leaning in toward his master. His sentence was abruptly cut short as his master's lekku lashed back into his face, knocking him back and momentarily speechless.
"What happened to those fools? They were my best pilots! And my Dreadnought! Those Republic monkey-lizards are going to pay for this!" The crimelord was seething with fury. He is, after all, used to getting his own way.
His gangs control the Shesharile Twins, and most of the illegal business in the Cluster, in fact. Staying on his good side is a good way to ensure survival. If the pilots were still alive now, he'd probably have torn them apart with his bare hands.
"YOU!" Ne Dago whirled to face Denan, pointing his finger like a blaster. Denan looked at it like it was about to shoot him. "You obtained the information about this Republic taskforce - a single cruiser!"
"Yes, magnificence, yes, and my source is reliable, I swear it! And their mission is to overthrow the Corporation, a single cruiser, yes. Although the latest intelligence says that more craft may now be joining the Destiny for their assault on Javis."
"MORE SHIPS?! Haven't we suffered enough from one? I will not let the Corporation fall, not know I've finally taken full control of it, do you hear me Denan? You tell that to your source!"
"Yes, Yerkysned Ago," began Denan, using the Twi'lek honorific and bowing low. "He knows; he serves aboard Destiny itself, he will not let us down."
Ne Dago stopped moving completely. Denan couldn't even see him breathing. He considered running for the door, but decided that ne Dago would probably just shoot him if he did. "He serves...aboard Destiny?"
"Yes yes, your honour, but he is not a Republic Intelligence plant, I know it, I know the man, he is not, please believe me." The words came out in a rush.
"For your sake, I hope so." Ne Dago stormed out of the room, leaving his assistant trembling. There could be no mistakes. Destiny must be destroyed.
The door chimed. Borath sighed. Only two days into the jump and he was fed up already. Not even the prospect of earning his wings cheered him up. "Yeah, come in," he called. He swung around, his head about a half second behind his body. He glanced up wearily, his eyes widened, and he bolted up, saluting Flight Instructor Bamarz. "General!" he greeted the man.
Bamarz smiled, tiredly. "At ease, Bordan."
Borath forced himself to relax. "Come in, general, have a seat, please." The general nodded his head in thanks, and took a seat. The door swooshed shut, making Borath start. He circled the general warily, like a Jawa edging around a sleeping Krayt dragon, convinced that the beast is about to wake, laugh, and tear him to pieces.
Bamarz just chuckled. "Sit down, Bordan, for goodness sake! You're making me nervous!" Borath did. Cautiously. "Bamarz wasted no further time. "You did well in the final sim, Bordan. No surprise there, then. And to think, just a few days ago I was reprimanding you for careless flying. Well, happens to the best from time to time." Borath looked surprised. "Yes, Bordan, you're one of our best. Both the Wraiths and the Rogues are going to be fighting over you, I think. Your little stunt during the battle for Destiny was unorthodox and incredibly effective. Well done. Just wanted you to know that I'm really proud of you."
Borath didn't quite know what to say. It had never crossed his mind that Bamarz could actually be nice. "It wasn't just my flying, sir. I couldn't have done it without the others. Especially Teskan and Holloway. Not to mention Loran and Horn."
"Mmm, I'm on my way to see Holloway and Teskan now." Bamarz rose, and headed for the door. Then he stopped, hesitating. "I wanted to see you first, and to...warn you. Stay away from Horn and Loran. They're trouble." Bamarz' gruffness had returned. "Force be with you, Bordan."
And before Borath could reply, his former instructor had left.
"And he just left?"
"Yeah. Weird, eh?"
Teskan took another sip of his drink. "The general may have been correct, Borath. Horn and Loran caused a scene on the bridge after the battle - they had shouting match with the Admiral."
"I don't think they're trouble," Kaz spoke again. "Not for us, anyway. They probably have enough influence at Command to get out of this, and they were right, the Admiral was careless."
"Heads up, guys," Borath said jerking his head toward the door of the crowded Fuel Station. The others followed his direction and saw the two pilots walking in. Borath waved. They headed over, pushing their way through the pilots, and threading themselves around the tables. Corran looked particularly haggard.
"Horn," began Borath when they arrived at the table, "you look like you fought your way through a horde of Gran single-handed, only to discover that the barman just ran out of Corellian whisky."
Corran shot a viciously sharp-edged glance at the younger man, which would have been more effective had he not fitted Borath's description perfectly. Face chuckled, smugness etched into his features. "He had to go apologise to Durnick. Nicely. Graciously. I didn't." Corran levelled his gaze at his companion. Face stared right back, and Corran finally grinned.
"Yes, alright! But you should have seen his face. He'd just got off the vid-link to Ackbar. Wedge told me that he was going to get a strip wider than Beggar's Canyon torn off him. He'd just been read the riot act, and all I had to do was apologise!" Corran's grin faded. "I'd rather not have him as an enemy, though. And I think I used up all my favours at Command, too."
"Best behaviour, pilot!" exclaimed Face in booming baritone. All the pilots smiled wanly. They were still suffering the after-effects of the battle.
Borath saw the awkward silence that was hovering over the conversation, ready to descend at a moment's notice, and spoke. "Did General Antilles tell you anything about this mission?" Face also looked expectantly at Corran now, so Borath assumed that he hadn't been told anything either.
"Yes. Sort of. All he knows about the mission is that it will involve a hit-and-hold strike on Javis-12. A small initial strike team of B-wings with A-wing escorts take care of the 'hit', followed by transports and X-wings to execute the 'hold' part. There are bound to be asteroid-related complications, but Wedge doesn't know anything beyond that. It has to be a quick op - we need control of the main control room on Javis before the Corporation gets heavy reinforcements in, or they manage to turn the obligatory hidden defences on us. Another cruiser is joining us at the Cluster itself - it's jumping straight to the edge of the Javis system as backup." Face nodded thoughtfully. Borath was about to raise a hand to ask the piercing question 'Eh?!', but Corran continued.
"There was even less on record about Durnick himself. He served in the Cluster during the War, hence his personal connection and desire to return and sort the place out." Face nodded, and Borath could almost see a light of understanding click on above his head. "That's about it. No other comments, no other notes, practically. Just your average, run-of-the-mill admiral." Corran's eyebrows knitted together. "It's not right, though, there's something about that man..." He shook his head, as if it clear it.
Borath cleared his throat dramatically, raised a finger as if about to make a point of galaxy-shattering importance and, turning to Corran and Face, screwed up his face and asked, "What?"
Both men looked puzzled, but Face twigged first. None of the others knew anything about their mission to the Minos Cluster, other than the name of their destination, nor were they aware of Durnick's strong, personal feelings about the mission. He quickly explained the background - the Old Republic, the deterioration under and after the Empire, the miners, the Corporation, the gangs run by the Twi'lek crime boss Yerkys ne Dago, the Republic's intention to return law and order. Corran snorted, but made no comment.
Borath thought he knew what that meant, although Corran was the last person he would have expected such un-Republic sentiments from. Disagreeing with this mission of spreading the New Republic's influence farther? That must be what losing so many friends makes you realise, he thought. And thinking of those that had already lost their lives for nothing on this mission - Republic and pirate alike - Borath couldn't help wondering if Corran was right.
Right or not, Borath knew that the thought would haunt him for the rest of the jump, and longer. It was going to be a long couple of weeks.