Anya Dariss approached the door to Admiral Nane's office. She sighed deeply, and slowly walked up to the door. She had been in his office only once before. If she had a choice about going in there, she would not. Screwing up her courage, she walked in. Admiral Nane looked up at her, with the sternest expression she had ever seen on his face.
"You were late to the bridge." It was not a question. "You were late to the bridge, during a battle situation. Why?"
"I slept in, sir."
"You slept in? Do you understand the rules for serving on this Star Destroyer Lieutenant Dariss?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you understand the penalty for violating those rules, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir."
"I know you are a fine officer. But I can not allow you to get away with this. As a result, I am switching your position with that of Lieutenant Gillins."
"Yes, sir." Anya inwardly winced. To be taken away from flying the ship . . . that's the only reason she was here.
"If you can prove yourself to be a reliable officer, I will consider reassigning you. Dismissed."
Anya Dariss walked out of there, and headed towards her quarters. Her roommate wasn't there, thankfully. Checking through communiqués for signs of Rebel activity? While that Gillins had her post? What point was there to be in the Imperial fleet then? She wanted to cry, she wanted to tell the entire galaxy she thought it was unfair, but she couldn't. Instead, she went up to the bridge for her next shift, acting as if nothing was wrong.
Anya sat down at the communications station, and began sifting through communiqué after communiqué. Shortly after Gillins came up. As he walked towards the helm, he shot her a smug look from his collection. She didn't even acknowledge it. These communiqués were so boring. The chances the Rebels would have a message in here was slim at best. After what seemed like forever, but was in fact only a few hours, her shift ended and she was able to leave the bridge. Upon seeing Gillins head for the mess hall, she decided to run a check up on her shuttle, before she ate. That way the chances were fewer that she would run into Gillins.
It didn't take Anya more than ten minutes to get to the bay. There was the shuttle she flew, standing proud, and calling to her as if she were one of them. She paused a moment, taking in the breathless beauty of the elegantly defined lines on the Imperial shuttle. It stood there, with wings folded, a white bird waiting for the signal to fly. Shaking herself from her reverie, Anya walked towards it quickly and quietly. Stopping at the door of the shuttle, she quickly keyed in the code, and waited for the door to open with its familiar whoosh. But it stayed shut. She frowned and furrowed her brow. She knew the code, hadn't she entered it in many times over the past two years? With a sigh she tried it again. Still no luck. And again. What was wrong? After spending a good five or ten minutes trying code after code, she gave up in disgust, and headed towards the mess hall. Maybe she could think clearer after she ate.
Lieutenant Kyle Dowlin looked up to see Anya enter. He motioned her over to his table, and she nodded in response. After she picked up her dinner she went to sit by him.
"Late in getting here?" he asked.
"Went to check out my shuttle first," she said simply. "But I must have forgotten the entrance code."
Dowlin looked at her in surprise. "You mean you didn't hear?"
"Hear what?" she asked.
"Nane decided to give responsibility and "ownership" of the shuttle to Lieutenant Frank Gillins. It's been buzzing all over. You must have heard it."
"Nane? To Gillins?" Anya set her jaw furiously. How could he do that?
"Yeah. Gillins has been bragging about it to everyone."
"That was my ship!" she exploded.
"Calm down Dariss." Then he looked at her closely. "You seriously didn't know? Nane didn't tell you?"
"That's it," Anya said, slamming her fist into the table and standing up. "I've had enough of the games Nane is playing. I'm going to find out what's going on."
"Hey! Wait! Dariss . . ." but his call died on his lips, as she stormed out of the mess hall and headed to the Admiral's offices.
Anya Dariss strode purposefully down the hall and entered Admiral Nane's office. He looked up, and his eyebrows rose, but that was all. Without waiting for any type of acknowledgement, Anya began her tirade.
"Why did you give Gillins my ship? You never told me. You could have told me! What did I do to deserve this? You already took my post away on the bridge! You could have at least left me with this!"
"Dariss," he said coolly, his eyes narrowing. "You said you knew what the regulations are. Questioning a superior officer violates those regulations."
"I don't care," stormed Anya. "You never told me you were giving my ship away. You had no right to do that!"
"Lieutenant! That is enough. You will not question the decisions I made. I did what I did, and my reasons are not for you to know. You are confined to quarters til further notice, and you are not to speak with Lieutenant Gillins. Dismissed."
Anya turned and strode out of there, furious and angry. As she walked down the hall to her quarters, she saw Frank Gillins. And all at once the anger and frustration and hatred that she had kept the lid on came boiling over. He glanced at her, and smirked.
"So," he said. "I hear that you can't fly your shi . . ."
He did not get any farther. Next thing he knew something was coming towards him. Anya had punched him right under the nose as hard as she possibly could. He went flying backwards, and hit his head on a protruding corner of the corridor wall. Anya walked over and stood over him.
"That is the last time you will insult me or my ship, Gillins. That is the last time you will mess up my affairs."
"You're right, it is," came the voice of another officer. Anya turned around and came face to face with Captain Glearis, Gillins' cousin. "You won't get away with that Dariss." Then he raised his fist, ready to punch her, but he didn't count on the swiftness of her wrath. Before he even knew what was happening, she had slugged him as well. As he fell to the ground, he managed to call to security.
Within seconds security guards came in, and grabbed Anya's arms. Not too long later Admiral Nane appeared.
"What is going on here?" asked Nane sternly.
"That, girl," hissed Glearis carefully. "Punched both Gillins, and me."
"Did you strike a superior officer?" Nane said to Anya.
"Yes."
Nane turned towards one of the security guards. "Call up medical. Lieutenant Gillins needs attention. Then he turned back to Anya. "I warned you Dariss. I told you of the regulations, and you said you knew them. And then you do this." He frowned. "You have the potential to be a wonderful officer. Yet you let your temper fly too often. Well, this time has been once too often. I hereby place you, Anya Dariss, under arrest, and sentence you to be court martialed by the Imperial Court of the ship." He nodded at the guards. "Take her away."
