A/N: Ok, apparently my hardliner policy didn't go over so well, so I'm cancelling it. Goes on long, guilt-inspireingrant about how people don't even care enough to spend an extra 10 seconds of their time reviewing And so, without further ado-

Scree knelt down beside Lak's body, reaching out to him with the Force. Miraculously, she still felt something. Lak was alive.

But he was weak. His body couldn't heal the wound on its own. This was something that a medpak couldn't fix. He needed a bacta bath. And fast.

But outside the bridge there were stormtroopers patrolling the winding passages that made up the ship. Of course, that could be changed.

She abruptly stood up and whirled around to face the bridge crew. "Send a message via intercom. Tell everybody to get back to their bunks right the hell NOW!" She couldn't let Lak die. Not when it would be her fault. "And if anybody else has a weapon and does not give it to us immediately, I will personally shoot you."

The Imperial who was responsible for communications, still wondering what was going on, who these lightsaber-wielding stormtroopers were, relayed the order.

There was no time to lose waiting for the order to be carried out. She lifted Lak up with the Force, at the same time ordering the weapons control officer to guide her to the medcenter. It wasn't like he had much to do now anyways, what with the star destroyer's computer shut down. After giving him a quick check for weapons, she roughly shoved him through the hole in the bridge door-normally she would have laughed as the officer did a poor somersault and hit his head on the floor, but recent events had somehow dulled her sense of humor-and followed, guiding Lak through after them.

Somehow, they made it there without encountering anybody. After knocking on the door to the doctor's quarters-he had private ones adjoining the medcenter-he immediately set to work preparing Lak for submersion. People are always eager to help you when you put a gun to their head.

First he stripped off Lak's stormtrooper armor, then the Jedi tunic he wore under that-Scree pointedly looked away and thought that she should have had Grend take him down-before finally submerging him in the tank. Scree breathed a sigh of relief the second he was in. He would live. Bacta could heal almost any wound.

In the distance, she could hear a rumble as a tractor beam forced the hangar doors open-they should have had them opened before shutting down the ship's computer, she thought.

Phase 2 of Operation Rainstorm was underway.