Out of the corner of his eyes, Bryan saw two familiar figures walk into his view, one of them actually running very fast in his direction. He knew who she was, and he knew her brother walking slowly behind her. Bryan put up an index finger. "Hang on guys." He turned to the runner. Just in time for her "blur" to crash straight into him, a hug so fierce that he had to fall back onto his right arm on one of the benches to keep from falling over. Bryan hugged her back as hard as he could, smiling blandly and giggling slightly. "Hello Jori."

She didn't respond.

"How are you today?"

"Good," she said, her Russian accent clear.

"Excited?" he asked as she still clung to him. "Well obviously you are, but I mean about the attack?"

"Mmhmm," she responded quietly, her voice dampened by his shoulder.

Bryan held her a moment longer, then pulled away from her. In response, Jori leaned up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on his left cheek. "How you today?" she asked with her thick Russian accent.

"I'm very good thank you."

Jori beamed. "Great. Ready for attack?"

"From who, the Empire or you again?"

Her pretty brown eyes looked to the floor and she blushed.

"What?"

"Nothing," she responded.

"Oh, don't tell me that. You know I won't believe it." Bryan looked up for a second, and saw Justin give him a thumbs ups. In response, Bryan raised his finger to a "wait a moment" position.

Jori mumbled something to the floor.

Smiling to himself, Bryan slowly took a hold of her chin and raised it so that he looked directly into her eyes. "Hmm?"

Jori mumbled again.

"What?"

"I'm afraid," she said, barely any louder.

Bryan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Your afraid? What? No you're not. You? Nah?" He quickly glanced up at her brother Hans. "She's kidding right?"

Hans snickered. "No. She's had nightmares 'bout today for two weeks."

Bryan was once again taken aback by surprise. "Really? What are the–what are the–what are the nightmares about?" he asked Jori.

She pointed up at his face. "You."

"Oh." He paused in an awkward silence. "Lemme guess. I'm dying in it right?"

Jori nodded shyly, looking down again.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" he said, exchanging caring glances with Hans and then both Kenny and Justin. "What's it about? You don't have to–to answer if you don't want to, but I'd thought..." he craned his head in slight embarrassment. "Yeah," he finished.

Jori's lips curled into a cute smile. Then it went back to being straight, and she swallowed. Bryan waited patiently.

"You fighting Darth Vader in middle of...of bal-balance beam. You and him right in the–in the middle." She was making gestures towards the center of the chamber, hands moving up and down almost uncontrollably. And Bryan noticed she was shaking too.

"Yes..."

"And on either side of–of da balance beam are–you...you and—Vader winning...killing you...yes."

Bryan smiled, amused. "Yippee for me."

Jori blushed again a kind-of laughed, but it wasn't noticeable because her head was still down. Swallowing again, she continued. "And on either side of balance beam are...friends of–of both you and Vader."

"Like Maxie, Clara–for me I mean–and ah, and Kenny and Justin and–and you and Hans? Those people?"

Jori nodded. "Yes."

"And lemme guess, on the Imperial side is...um, Admiral Joffandor, Warlord Garrett, Governor Lorgan, Grand Moff Terret, Ali of course, and the Emperor even though he's dead. Right?"

Jori nodded. "And more."

"Got it." He breathed. "Go ahead."

"And you an' Vader continue to fight in–in the middle of tha balance beam. And sometimes you are winning, and sometimes Vader is winning. But it seems that no matter what–either way tha balance beam is never–never in balance. Always aut of balance." She finally looked up. "An' no one ever wins. Like both you 'nd Vader never seem to fully beat the other." She finally looked up at him, eyes much brighter than before. "Which is good thing fur yu."

Bryan broke into a smile. "I certainly hope so." He and Jori laughed slightly. Jori resumed looking at the floor.

Bryan lowered his head so that he at least could see the tops of her eyes. "Is that it?"

She nodded.

The man rose back up to his full height and breathed, looking at Hans. "Interesting dream." He patted Jori on her ponytail sympathetically. "Don't worry my dear. I'm not lettin' Vader beat me anytime soon. Especially not now. I promise you that."

Jori looked up and smiled ever so slightly, still looking very unconvinced. That dream must have had more influence on her than he thought. "You beat him," she said quietly. "Yes, yu kick his ass."

Bryan smiled wider. "Don't worry, I will. For you I will."

She looked up, smiling just as wide as him. Then she proceed to throw her arms around him again and pull him in for another hug. He grunted a laugh and did the same, squeezing her as hard as she was squeezing him, like they good-friends-who-were-also-classmates. And it was a while–after Bryan's numerous attempts to separate–that she finally condoned him to let go.

For a moment, no one said anything. Then Bryan finally gestured, realizing that Hans and Jori had never met his friends, to Justin and Kenny behind them. "Have you guys ever met?"

Hans looked over at them. He pointed to Kenny. "Saw him at Valiance Tours." To Justin. "Don't know you."

"And I don't know you," Justin responded. He stood up and extended his hand. "Justin."

The Russian man shook it. "Hans Fresdevor. This is my sister Jori. We're pilots on the Justice."

"Nice." He shook Jori's hand. "The Justice, isn't that the ship that had the most winners at the Tours this year? I heard you guys kicked ass."

Hans struggled for words and ended up just shrugging his shoulders. "I don know," he chuckled. "If we did, we didn' know. Dey didn–they didn' tell us...anyding." "Oh. Well I heard you guys won like...fifteen competitions, so congratulations."

Hans nodded. "Thank you."

Bryan gestured to Kenny. "And this is Commander Kenny Ferdan, Commander of the Bravery." Kenny stood up and shook both Hans's and Jori's hand. "Nice to meet you guys."

Bryan gazed over at Hans. "So how 'bout you now? You ready for this thing?"

Hans. "Yes, yes, yes. Me have been ready for...for...for very long time. So as she, though it doesn' show."

"Oh, I can guess. I know her well enough." He smiled, jokingly, at Jori, who rolled her eyes, which only made his grin widen.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it's now four-oh-two. Please take your seats, we'd like to begin as soon as we could can because I know a majority of you are anxious to get out there, so please take your seats." Alliance President Taigor Gillia's voice never sounded deeper. His species, the Caldorans, were known for their operas and singers. Most major bands these days had at least one of these pitch-correct creatures in their band.

Bryan looked over to where Gillia stood, in front of numerous Alliance Admirals and officials, some were even from the Alliance Congress, men and woman who rarely showed their faces in public, though Bryan assumed that a briefing chamber on a Calamari Cruiser wasn't exactly public. Who cared though. They never really showed their faces outside of the Congress meeting chamber.

Bryan, Hans, Jori, and Kenny all took seats on the bench in front of them. Justin remained standing. He pointed towards another end of the room, the place with all the Admirals and other command personnel. "Alright then. Time for me to go join the nose-pickers again. Nice meeting you, see you guys later."

The four all said there goodbyes simultaneously, and Justin started for the other side of the room. It didn't take long for everyone to sit down, and the lights soon dimmed after. Just before they did, though, Bryan spotted another one of his friends, former Cleveland Playhouse camper Maya Ranadan, now Lieutenant-Colonel of Alliance Intelligence, sitting near to where Justin was going. They had time to simply smile and exchange waves before the lights dimmed.

President Gillia, tall and tan-skinned, stepped forward to the center holoprojector.

Bryan sighed. "Here comes the speeches," he whispered, mostly to himself.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the chance we've been waiting for, for eleven years, has finally come. Corpagia is vulnerable." A strong murmur escalated in the room.

"Whoa," Kenny stated.

Bryan let his head fall in disappointment. "Oh no. You've got to be kidding me." He looked up at Gillia but kept his voice down. "We're attacking Corpagia?"

"The Imperial government," Gillia continued, "Is in severe, catastrophic breakdown. Radicals have started to rise to power within the ranks of the Empire. Emperor Palpatine's death did more than we could have ever hoped for. Warlord Garrett harshly diminished the Imperial fleet, and our hit-and-run campaign's have been more successful than even our best tacticians could have guessed. My colleagues in the Congress and the military have both concurred–we now have a sufficient enough advantage over the Empire. It is time to strike." The Caldoran walked up to the holopojector and activated it with the push of a small button. With a hum, the machine came to life, projecting an image of the Corpagia system of planets; seven distinct worlds that housed the entire Imperial government. The main center of this hub was Corpagia itself. "Now Corpagia's defenses are mounted around a lock-and-key planetary defense net. Every planet in the system has its own fleet defense and gravity well 'lock.' The 'key' will be to destroy each gravity well projector as we go, as well as any Interdictor Cruisers that may get in the way. Once all the secondary planets and New Coruscant have been bypassed, our fleet will drop out of hyperspace into the Corpagia system and begin the assault." She stepped aside and nodded to Bryan across the room. "General Rawling will be leading the fighter attack." A short round of applause and "whoos" went through the room. Bryan just nodded and smiled at Gillia. He hadn't wanted to lead this fiasco-in-the-making. Gillia turned behind her and nodded at Emilie. "Admiral Rodenski will be commanding the fleet elements. She is the top ranking officer in this operation." Another round of applause. "General Mitza will be leading the ground forces. " A third round of applause. Gillia stepped back and gestured to Emilie. "Admiral."

Emilie rose from her seat and approached the projector. "The strategy here is to attack all in one front."

Bryan looked down and smiled. Always down to business with Admiral Rodenski.

"If everything goes as planned, we will only need to stop and fight at three planets, planet number six, Ikolor, number five, Deetoo, and number three, Poridin. And then New Coruscant, and then Corpagia. I think that once the Empire see's that enormous fleet outside, they'll run back to Corpagia. If all goes well, we won't even have to fight at Ikolor, Deetoo, and Poridin." She pressed another button, and the image changed to one of just Corpagia. "So we're not going to worry about that now." She backed up from the projector and looked all around the room. "The hard part will be when we get to Corpagia. Because first we have to bring down the planetary shield, and then clear a safe path for our invasion force." The image on the projector zoomed in on a portion of space to the left of Corpagia. The next few seconds of the projector was devoted to the Alliance fleet slowly breaking through the Imperial lines until it finally reached the planet. "Once we've cleared a path to the shield, bombers from Hornet Squadron will blow a hole in it. And through that hole, we'll land our assault force." On the projector, black-and-yellow striped Y-Wings bombed the shield around Corpagia, and a hole magically opened, or so it seemed. Immediately, model images of Alliance assault craft poured through the hole and disappeared once they had cleared the shield. "Once deployed, the assault force will attack and destroy the planetary shield's generators, thus bringing the shield offline and opening Corpagia to full-scale assault." The shield covering Corpagia on the projector went down. "If and when that is accomplished, our cruisers were create a perimeter blockade, preventing as many ships as we can from escaping. That is the most important objective at that time." Emilie smiled at the man sitting next where she had sat and gestured to him. "General Mitza will be the ground commander in charge of all assault forces. He will explain the ground attack." She stepped back beside President Gillia. "General."

Mitza, a burly, rather unshaven, brown-haired Italian, stood up, coughed once, and marched over to the projector, a little off balance by his weight. The zit on chin jutted out at everyone in the room probably, by its size and bright red hue. "Thank you Admiral." He coughed loud, making half the people in the room jump. "My men have been instructed to do just one thing," he said, Italian accent strong. "Destroy the shield generators. We have over 3,000 assault craft, and 20,000 assault troops, along with five-hundred air support craft. Our strategy will involve this: take the field to the first generator, on the north continent, by using a Grishom Attack Strategy: pounding the Imperial defense forces into submission. The second generator, on a snow-capped mountain on the fifth continent, will be destroyed by using a Bently maneuver coupled with a Hinesmen Streak Attack Pattern. A knock out blow in probably less than twenty minutes," Mitza cackled. A loud murmur drifted throughout the chamber. Most of the people had barely understood anything the Italian had just said. Bryan, Justin, and Kenny all exchanged "what-the-hell-is-he-talking-about?" looks.

Neither did Emilie apparently. "General, could you please explain...er...elaborate on the maneuver's you just talked about. I don't think everyone understands exactly what they are...er...what they do."

Mitza looked at her like she was crazy. "They don't know the Hinesman and Bently maneuvers?" Mitza stared in chagrin at the pilots and personnel assembled in the room around him. "Well they should. What kind of good soldier doesn't?"

"Excuse me, General," President Gillia intervened. "But most of these people are pilots, not troopers. The Bently and Hinesman are army maneuvers, not flight maneuvers."

Mitza scowled. "Then why did you ask me up here!" he scoffed. He stomped, furiously, back to his bench. "I look like a fool up there!" Another murmur made its way around the room.

Bryan leaned closer to Kenny. "Did you have an idea what he was talking about?"

Kenny shook his head. "Naw."

Bryan hmmmph-ed, then leaned back to Hans and Jori. "How 'bout you two?" As Jori said "no", Bryan asked Hans, "Didn't you take Tactics at the academy on–on Brynna?" Hans nodded solemnly. "Yes. But no understannd him."

"Yeah, like Kenny said, who did?" Bryan said as he turned to face forward again. On the floor, Emilie had stood up again, not looking at Mitza at all. The fat General was furiously speaking to his comrade, Commander Girlaa Fashfio, the cat-like Oredarian.

The pretty Emilie strode up to the holoprojector, and turned it off. For a moment, the room was nearly pitch black, until the lighting kicked in and nearly blinded everyone in the room due to its brightness. "Are there any questions?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bryan spotted Commander Calvin Deravin's hand shoot into the air and knew already that he wasn't going to like what Calvin said. "Admiral, as I'm sure you know, things don't always go as planned, so what if–?"

When he said the first part of that sentence, Emilie reacted as Bryan had expected her too, with hesitation. She wanted to be angry, but was obviously still convinced that she was at fault for what had happened at the Battle of Deil Nine. But it hadn't been her fault. But Calvin was just being an asshole. Nevertheless, he had to be dealt with. "What did you say Calvin? Take that back and apologize to Admiral Rodenski."

Calvin lowered his eyebrows in contempt. "Excuse me sir, but I was talking," he said rudely.

"You don't talk to your commanding officer that way, Commander Deravin, now take it back."

"What did I say wrong to her–?"

"You know what I'm talking about–that sentence about 'as I'm sure you know'? Take it back because I know your talking about Deil Nine when you said it. Now take it back. I order you to take it back."

Calvin surrendered. "Fine. I'm sorry Admiral Rodenski," he said to Emilie. With a quick, disdainful glance at Bryan, he continued. "What if we have more trouble at the secondary planets, like for instance: what if they bring their fleet to say, Poridon, instead of waiting for us to show up to Corpagia? How can we expect the plan to go picture perfect?"

"We can't," Emilie said immediately.

An very awkward silence. Emilie and Calvin stared at each for a few moments.

"That's it?" Calvin after another moment. "That's your answer?"

"Yeah," Emilie responded. "You have a 'perfect' plan Commander Deravin?"

"No, ma'am," he responded. "I just wanted to know."

Emilie acknowledged by nodded. "Any other questions?"

Bryan couldn't think of any questions anyone would want to ask. The plan was pretty clear. And indeed there weren't anymore.

"Good," Emilie continued. "Now if any of you possibly have any questions about the ground assault, ask me personally after this is over. General Mitza has a lot or work to do."

Mitza snorted in his seat, disgusted.

Emilie ignored it, trying to keep the sweet smile on her face. "One last thing." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a datapad. "Would the following officers please stand up." her eyes went down the datapad. "Major Richards, Major Brown, Major Sal'cara, Major Poligard, Major Ihn, Major Berislo, Major Dexters, Major Kerlos, Major Be'la'poar, Major Nerris'sthoff, and Major Norring"

Justin shot up into the air on his name, well more energetic than half of the other men and women called, causing a few girls to giggle. Bryan rolled his eyes and shook his head. He leaned towards Kenny. "You hear those giggles?"

"Yeah, I heard a few," Kenny responded.

"And he claims he doesn't try."

Kenny grinned. "Haha."

Larry Norring stood modestly, looking very tired. Not only was he the tactician aboard the Freedom, he also was directing there at this precise moment in time–the existentialism classic Waiting for Gidot–one hell-of-a play to put on. Good man though. Another old friend of Bryan's, not to mention his mentor in the field of acting and theater.

Back on the floor, Emilie had already begun her next speech. "–your tacticians. They will be coordinating this entire operation. You get all your orders from them–commanders report all their ideas and seek approval from one of these men. You will all be assigned a coordinator. I give the orders, the tacticians dole out the orders, the pilots carry out the orders. The system is that simple." She paused and nodded for the Major's to sit down. "The attack begins in two hours. No drinking, no smoking, nothing to impair your judgement. Have fun and I'll see you in two hours." With a nod, she dismissed them. Conversation struck up like a lightning fire as the pilots rose to their feet and started to vacate the chamber.

Instead of talking, Bryan looked down at the time on his watch. He wanted to see how long this had been. "Ten minutes," he said in surprise. "That's a new record."

"Yeah," Kenny commented. "I kinda miss the multi-hour speeches though, don't you?"

Bryan chuckled. "'Today is a glorious day for the Alliance. For we shall embark on a fantastic journey to victory, a...majestic, courageous, and gallant venture to freedom'–yeah I do like them I guess–"

"I heard that, you jerk," a voice said sharply behind him, making the man jump. He turned to find Emilie Rodenski staring at him, arms crossed above her breasts. "I know that was a impers-imperso–argh—impersonation of–"

"Havin' trouble talkin' there Emilie?"

"Shut up," she said as she giggled. "ImpersoNATION of me!"

"No, you see, that was Gillia. Here's you." He cleared his throat.

And Emilie tried to stop him. "Hey–hey, don't you even–"

"'The a-ttack will be co-mmencing in un-der an hour. Ev'ry flight and ev'ry pilot must be ready at all times. And yes, I am dulling you, I know,'" Bryan smiled over at Emilie. She had scrunched up her face in a snobby looked, like a child who didn't get what she wanted. Bryan eyes transformed from mockery to sympathy. "I'm just kidding, Emilie. Good job up there."

She rolled her eyes at him, then stretched out a small hand. "Come here," she said.

Bryan hesitated. "Um, well, I'd love to, but, um, for fear of my life, I–I—I dare not."

"Get over here."

Bryan still hesitated.

"I order you, Commander, get over here, now."

He and Kenny exchanged glances. "Oh boy," he whispered. "Coming ma'am. See ya later," he said to Kenny. "Come to the Lounge later."

"Alright. See ya."

Bryan sighed passively. "Bye." Pausing for only a moment, he gingerly started for Emilie. He knew she wasn't really going to hurt him in any way. That was assault, but–and this meant no offense to her–he didn't want to stay here much longer. He wanted to go home, spend some time with his friends; anything to keep him distracted until the time came for him to don the cockpit of his X-Wing again. "Yes?" he said when had reached her.

Exasperated, Emilie stared up into his eyes. "Listen, your sweet. Honestly, you are, and I want to thank you for standing for me against Commander Deravin, but I don't need your help anymore."

Bryan paused to let her say more, but it became apparent that she was done. "I know," he said. "But it's an officer's job to make sure his superiors are respected. It is in the Oath after all. And the Oath is like the United States Constitution: people like to break the rules a lot, or at least try anyways."

Emilie smiled warmly. "Nice analogy there," she observed.

Bryan shrugged. "I try."

"Well, just understand. I don't need your help now. I appreciate it though. Thanks again."

Bryan bowed his head to her. "Anytime. I hope you don't think I was trying to undermine your authority? 'Cause if you are, then...sorry."

"Oh, no," Emilie said cheerfully. "Not at all. I don't think you were trying...even though you kinda did."

Bryan scratched the back of his neck. "So that basically means 'yes, I was?'"

She giggled again. "No–I mean, you didn't mean to, you were just being nice."

The Commander nodded. "Yes, yes I was. But I will have to talk to you later because I want my enjoy my next two hours and get as distracted as I possibly can."

Emilie grinned. "Alright. See ya in two, and thanks again."

"Not a problem. Talk to ya later." They parted ways, Bryan heading down the alcove he had entered from fifty minutes earlier. He already knew where he was heading: his quarters first, then to the Starlight Lounge, the local tavern-like establishment where pilots spent most of their downtime.

"So what was that all about?" Justin's voice said from behind. "Looked to me like you tryin' to make a move."

Bryan stopped and turned, irked, as Justin continued. "Not a bad choice either, man."

The other man stared blankly. "She was just thanking me, that's all. For dealing with Deravin's out-of-place remarks."

"Oh, that ass? He has like five suspensions on his record. He's a fucking dick."

"Yeah, he is." A momentary pause. "Good rival though. Gives me a good challenge every time."

"Oh, yeah. I'm not saying he's a bad pilot. He's just the biggest dick I've probably ever seen."

Bryan shrugged. "I don't care. So long as he didn't pull that shit in front of Emilie again."

Justin chuckled. "Or else Bryan the noble with cuss him out."

He craned his head in consideration. "I just might. It depends."

"Yeah, I know. I woulda kicked his ass by now if I didn't get in trouble for it."

"Hmm."

"Hey, you goin' down the Lounge now?"

"Naw, not yet. Goin' back to my room first. I'm a little tired. Need some rest before I get back in that X-Wing."

"Alright, that's cool. I'm gonna head down to the Lounge now though. See ya later."

"Alright. Have fun, don't get drunk. See you there later."

Justin grinned sarcastically. "Me? Drunk? I don't know what your talking about."

Bryan just laughed and headed for the turbolift ahead of him. "We'll just have to see. Bye."

"Bye, man." He disappeared behind a corridor wall, heading in the direction of the Lounge.