Admiral Ozzel glared out the bridge's viewport. Yuca. Even when looking at it from the Executor, the planet seemed to mock them. He had never even heard of this backwater world until Vader had brought them here, and ever since then, it had been one calamity after another. And now not only the weapon they had been after was destroyed, but the Rebels had somehow gotten a transmission out for their Fleet to come rescue them.

"Admiral Ozzel, we may have a situation."

He turned around. It was a light haired lieutenant; from the apprehension on his face, Ozzel knew it wasn't good. "What's happened now, Lieutenant…?"

"Sheckil, sir. Either the Rebels, or some other party, they've hijacked a number of ships, civilian and Imperial—"

"Unless it's coming from Lord Vader himself," Ozzel interrupted, as he rubbed his aching head, "we're not sending any of our ships down to that planet. I don't give a damn about that Moff says, he's proven incapable of handling Yuca."

The lieutenant gulped. "Sir, we haven't gotten any orders like that yet…but it seems like they're using our own ships to attack civilian settlements."

Ozzel gave a start. "What? Have those Rebels lost their minds? Do they think they'll get us to back down if they destroy a few settlements?"

"Admiral!" said another officer down in the command pit. "We're detecting multiple ships fleeing the planet! They're not slowing down!"

No…surely not…no civilian would be that stupid. But a moment later, the officer looked up, and said, "They're approaching the blockade! Orders, sir?"

Ozzel clenched his fists. So, that was what the Rebels were up to. They had gotten more ruthless than he had given them credit for. "Scramble any TIEs we have left on board!" he barked. "Show no mercy, anyone who attempts to break through the blockade—"

"Admiral!" shouted another officer. "Multiple ships are coming out of hyperspace!"

He looked out the viewport once more. Sure enough, several Mon Calamari cruisers appeared. Once again, Yuca was adding to their list of troubles. Ozzel instinctively grabbed at his neck. He knew that one way or another, Lord Vader would ensure there would be many new Imperial positions available today.

Admiral Ackbar knew as soon as they dropped out of hyperspace that Yuca was going to be chaotic. But what he didn't expect, was a mass swarm of civilian ships rushing the blockade. "Status report!" he barked.

"Admiral!" said a Mon Calamari crewmember, crouched over his scanner. "Civilians are attempting to flee Yuca. And it appears that several Imperial craft are attacking their own ships. Maybe they were commandeered by Commander Skywalker and the others?"

"Perhaps. Try and establish contact with them."

"We're trying, sir, the Imps are making it difficult…got it! Be advised, it's a weak connection!"

To his immense relief, Luke's voice came out of the comm. "Admiral! This is Co—bsskt—Skywalker! We're attempt—krssh—rescue the prisoners of Slave Town!"

Ackbar frowned. "Then you haven't stolen any Imperial starfighters?"

"What? No, we haven't. We'll need—ssksh—provide evacuation once we rescue—krsskh."

"Admiral!" said the crewmember. "We've lost the connection!"

Ackbar rubbed his forehead. "The risks escalate with every new danger he throws himself at. Oh well, he is a Skywalker after all. All Squadrons! Prepare—"

The comm blared with static, causing all hands on the bridge to wince. But then a voice came through. "Attention, Rebel Alliance," it droned. "Am I speaking to anybody of note up there?"

Ackbar straightened in his seat. "This is Admiral Ackbar of the Rebel Fleet," he growled. "I order you to reveal your identity and intentions, at once!"

The voice gave a chuckle that made Ackbar's gills shudder with unease. "Consider us…an interested party in this conflict. I believe it is mutually beneficial for us if your comrades on the surface slip through the Empire's grasp. I have already acquired a number of ships to help you in this battle. But if you'd rather face the blockade on your own, then I will be happy to oblige."

"How do we know we can trust you?!" demanded the Mon Calamari crew member.

The voice gave an impatient growl. "Look for a squad mixed with TIEs and civilian ships. It's approaching your bridge now."

True to his word, the squad approached Home One. But instead of firing at them, the ships took out a squadron of TIE Fighters that flew past the bridge. "Satisfied?" the voice hissed.

Ackbar sighed heavily. "I doubt you're doing this out of goodwill…but we will accept your help, for now. But if I suspect for one moment you'll betray us—"

"Rest assured, Admiral Ackbar, that would go against my best interests. My associates have set up a secure channel, so by all means, command them in this battle as you see fit. And don't worry about Skywalker and the others."

Ackbar felt his insides clench. "Whoever you are, know that if you harm Skywalker or his comrades, with the Force as my witness, I will not rest until—!"

Again, that unsettling chuckle. "Skywalker being killed or captured would work against me. Rest assured, I will do all I can to help him escape. And considering the…obstacles, I'm about to send their way, your concerns would better be used on the Empire. For now, I will let my head pilot take over."

A new rougher and far less eloquent voice spoke on the comm. "I never take orders from anybody…but for now, I have to do as my employer wants. Do you have any plans, Ackbar?"

Ackbar glared out the bridge viewport. Despite the 'employer's' promises, Ackbar had no doubt they were up to no good. But they didn't have a choice right now. And after a quick assessment of the intensifying space battle, Ackbar did indeed have a plan in mind. "That I do. Concentrate all of your pilots on that Interdictor Star Destroyer!"

Even though some of the morning sun had shone on the landing field earlier, it had been hidden behind grey clouds once more. Not that it would have helped his mood. "What's the status on the droids?" Locus growled.

Dromus didn't even look up from his datapad, he was so engrossed in his work. "Half are at the Capital walls now," he replied. "The other half, along with the rest of the IASDs—not counting the trio you called to the Capital—remain at Slave Town. And yes," he added hurriedly, "they've been instructed to bring Skywalker in alive."

"Pray that your droids perform as well as the IASDs, Lieutenant. I would hate to discover your reputation was overexaggerated—"

Then he heard that dreaded breathing sound. "Locus!" snarled Vader, as he marched towards them. "What is this about exterminating the slaves?! Do you intend to deprive the Empire of more resources?!"

As calmly as he could, Locus faced Vader, and said, "No, my Lord. It's incentive to lure Skywalker to us."

He could feel the full force of Vader's gaze burning into him. "Is that so?"

"Yes. I made sure to broadcast it on the open frequency. I'm sure he'll arrive at Slave Town soon. He is Anakin's son, after all."

A moment passed, and then Vader replied, "In that case, continue to guard the Capital, and search for our new adversary." He turned around and walked towards his TIE Advanced. Past it were what spacecraft were left, along with the Revenant, which loomed over them. "I will join your forces at Slave Town—"

A series of beeps interrupted him. It was Locus's arm. He opened his hand and a hologram of a Stormtrooper formed out of it. "This had better be important!" he snapped.

"Moff!" the trooper shouted, and he fired at some unseen opponent. "It's those mutants! They're throwing themselves—" One lunged at the trooper. He barely dodged it, and took it out with a blast to the head. "—there's too many of them! We—!"

Another mutant latched itself to the trooper. He screamed and the hologram faded. Alarms began to go off all over the city. "To the walls!" Vader bellowed, and ignited his lightsaber. As their troops began to head to their positions, Vader glared once more at Locus, and he knew this man was worse than horror on Yuca. "And Locus, I have no more mercy to spare today. Lose the Capital or Skywalker, and Yuca will be your grave."

Orvar heard that it took more muscles to frown than smile. If so, then he wagered he could bite through quadanium. "I didn't know Vader had a sense of humor."

Commander Curia glared at him. "Well, I don't. Just make sure they don't run off. Unless you want to join Tabac?"

Orvar glanced at the new arrivals. From what he had heard, Gunda was a rising star and a good soldier, while Brogan and Anax looked like they would throw them to the Rancors for a few new colorful badges on their uniform. "If they try to run off," he noted, as he looked around at the wonderful weapons lining the armory's walls, "permission to terminate with extreme prejudice?"

Curia smiled thinly and nodded. Gunda stared resolutely ahead while the other two lost what little color they had in their faces. The rest of Orvar's squad chuckled at the 'volunteers' reactions as they restocked on weapons and ammo—

—and then the alarm went off. Orvar looked at Curia as she listened to her comm. "Change of plans!" she told them, and she grabbed a rifle herself. "The Capital is under attack!"

Orvar put on his helmet, grabbed a heavy blaster rifle, and charged out into the hall. As he through the compound, he saw troopers race past him, ready to face whatever enemy was stupid enough to attack this time. Finally, he reached the exit, and braced himself to see Rebel ships and soldiers outside.

But instead, they weren't there. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear the Capital was fine. There were no blasterfire, explosions, or even smoke. Even the fire that had burned down that one hotel had long been extinguished.

A shout brought him back to reality. He saw his squad pile into a gunship, and Curia was gesturing him to get on. He ran onboard, but as the ship took off, he noticed something wrong. "Where's the other recruit? Anax?"

"He's gone," Falco answered. "While we were arming up, the rat made a run for it. Sorry Orvar, but I lost him in the crowd."

Orvar clenched his fist. Fortunately, they were almost at the city wall already. There was nothing like shooting Rebels to relieve some pent up anger. "First, we'll deal with the intruders," said Curia, as the gunship landed. "Then we'll track him down for Lord Vader—"

Gunda fired her blaster. It barely missed Curia and blew a hole in the face of her would be attacker. Orvar vaguely heard the other volunteer, Brogan, whimper, "No, not them again!"

Hideously mutated creatures climbed over the walls, charged down the streets, leaped over rooftops, and stormed into buildings. Civilians ran for their lives, screaming for help. Some weren't so lucky; the mutants leapt on them, and sank their fangs into their flesh while their victims shrieked. Their cries snapped Orvar into action. "Squad!" he roared, and he opened fire. His rifle instantly mowed down half a dozen mutants, but many more scrambled towards them, their eyes filled with bloodlust. "Show no mercy! For the Empire!"

Anax looked around the corner, and then behind him, to make sure nobody was there. Once again, nothing, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Steeling his nerves, he darted out, opened the door, and shot inside.

He was in the small corridor leading to Locus's office. The walls were plastered with items, not one inch had been spared from the Moff's collection. The left wall was comprised of mostly objects from enemies of Locus or the Empire; valuable Serennian cloaks, priceless Neimoidian artwork, a set of Lasat bo-rifles, a Pyke's skull, and an Umbaran suit still stained with blood, to name a few. A door leading to Locus's medical chamber was cramped in the middle of it all.

Then there was the right wall…its items were polished, clean, and shone with triumph, making the opposite wall's pilfered trophies seem smaller and more miserable. Gifts from rescued people of varying importance, mainly of human origin and make, with a few odd exceptions. The majority of it however were a collection of uniforms, armor, and helmets associated with the former Republic. Clone trooper helmets in particular, all different colors and types, made the bulk of it.

But the centerpiece of it all, was Locus's old personal set of armor, perfectly restored from the Umbaran missiles that had crippled the Moff. Despite himself. Anax couldn't help but gulp. It was all black, with the occasional red mixed in. The same was true for the helmet…and what a helmet it was. A modified clone commando helmet, with a few antennas, and a bulky visor over the red T shaped visor, vaguely similar to the helmets of the renowned clones Cody, Doom, and Thorn.

Anax shook his head and barged into Locus's office. Now wasn't the time to get scared of old war relics. He had to find some way to get himself out of this mess, or he would join the ever-growing list of Vader's victims. But as he searched everything, from the other mementos to Locus's desk without success, his desperation escalated—

And then a secret compartment popped open in one of the drawers.

He drew a sharp breath. This could be it…he carefully grabbed ahold of the drawer's contents, and pulled it out. It was a picture of Locus before his injuries…surrounded by Jedi.

The Empire had been thorough wiping out all traces of the Jedi, along with their sympathizers. Yet here the Moff had kept something like this for himself. With some luck, and if he pulled a few strings, Anax might be able to get Locus taken out on charges of treason.

As he pocketed the picture, Anax felt newfound hope and anticipation pump through his veins as he ran through the corridor and past the trophies…but he still felt the Moff's old helmet's glare on his neck the whole way out.

"So," Bariq insisted, as he hopped from one foot to the other, "what kind of score are we looking at here?"

Without looking away from the artifact he was examining, SN gave him a rude hand gesture in reply. They were in the kitchen area in the corner of the lounge, eager to hear about the fruits of their labor. A moment later, SN put the artifact back in the crate, and adjusted the cord connecting him to his power generator as he recharged. "Almost all of the items obtained are of similar quality," SN announced. "Others are even more valuable. We're looking at least a million, probably more."

They all cheered. It was easily one of their biggest scores yet. Zar touched the metal strip covering his eye in growing elation. He could finally afford to get his eye fixed; no more having to keep his eyes hidden in public, no more constantly having to wear his helmet or glasses…

As he scanned his joyful comrades, he noticed someone was missing. "Hey," he asked out loud, "has anyone seen Tor?"

Dendro was too busy as he crammed even more food into his mouth, and Bariq was now dancing in jubilation, so Ru answered him. "Our Rebel wannabe is sulking in his room."

The room's volume dropped a slight notch. Zar pretended not to notice. "Rebel wannabe?"

Ru snorted. "Our noble demolition man didn't want to leave the Rebels after we took the outpost. If his heart gets any bigger, he's going to donate our score to the Alliance."

Zar shook his head. "Come on, Ru. Let's give him the talk…again."

They went into the corridor leading to the cockpit, and Zar knocked on a door with a circular ocean wave on it. "Hey, Tor. Can I come in?"

"Sure," said Tor's voice. "Just checking on my little friends in here."

Zar opened the door and walked in, while Ru leaned against the wall outside. It always amazed Zar how tidy Tor's room was. Everything was arranged with tender loving care, from the various religious mementos sent to him from his clan back home on Karkaris, posters of his favorite podracers, and the thick aquarium filled with different types of coral and fish securely fastened to his table. Tor himself hovered over the tank, muttering to himself as he refilled the food dispenser. "How's the coral doing?" Zar asked as he walked over. "Is it ready to be sent back to Karkaris yet?"

Tor's face scrunched up in thought as he tapped the scanner on the aquarium. After a moment, the results came up, and his expression brightened. "Yes, actually. Isurus will be happy bringing this to the reefs."

"And I hear you might want to join up with the Rebels?"

The Karkarodon glanced at him. "When did I say that?"

Ru walked into the room, hands shoved into his pockets. "When you had one of your noble fits, that's when."

Tor glowered at the Drabatan. "I don't want to join them. But I do think we should have stayed with them longer."

"Why?" asked Zar, and he crossed his arms sternly. "Do I need to remind a certain crew member about certain jobs we took with the Rebels ended? The infiltration on Malastare, perhaps? I still get jumpy whenever a Dug passes by."

"I remember. What about you?"

Zar blinked. "What?"

Tor locked his eyes onto Zar's. He had never seen Tor look so serious before. "You remember what Luke and the others are going to have to deal with, yes?"

"Come on," scoffed Ru. "After the Death Star, or even our recent expedition, a slave compound should be a breeze for them."

"And the blockade? With Vader's flagship aiding them? And the monster himself on Yuca?"

Neither Zar or Ru had a reply for that. Then Bariq's voice spoke over the ship's speaker. "Coming up on a temporary hiding spot for us. I'll need you guys to perform a sweep of the area."

Seizing their reprieve, Zar and Ru headed for the lift. As they arrived in the cargo hold, they felt the ship shudder upon landing, and Bariq's voice spoke up yet again. "Be careful out there…it doesn't look good."

"Can't be worse than Tor's sermons," muttered Ru, and he activated his goggles' scanners.

As they walked outside, it turned it out that it was. They stared out at a small abandoned village, with debris and fires scattered throughout the area. But as Zar looked at it, he felt something about this was off, but he couldn't tell what. Thankfully, he had Ru with him, and the Drabatan was already stalking through the wreckage. "From the angle and size of the blasts," Ru mused, "it was an aerial attack. But it's strange, the blasts didn't hit anything major besides a few speeders and smaller storage buildings…like the attackers didn't want to destroy the village, just scare them enough to drive them out."

Zar checked out one of the intact buildings. It looked like a repair shop, with plenty of expensive ship components still inside. "This shop hasn't been looted," he told Ru. "If the others are the same, then it wasn't pirates or thieves who hit this place. Any ideas who—?"

He broke off at a rustling sound. The duo aimed their weapons around trying to find the source, but there was nothing but the ruined buildings and vehicles, and the trees and foliage surrounding the village. A collection of footsteps sounded behind them, and Zar saw the rest of the Talons join them. "Anyone still here?" asked Dendro, his guns sweeping around. "Or did we miss the party?"

A yellow and black blur shot out into the town's central foyer up ahead, with a red and orange feline predator with four long fangs jutting out of its mouth, chasing after it. They rushed toward the foyer, as screeches and snarls filled the air. Then there was the sound of an engine starting, a clunk, and they saw the feline sprawled on the front of a speeder bike, desperately squealing. The bike flew into an open store, and it exploded, sending debris, rare fried meats, and cat fur everywhere.

"Can't we ever explore a normal planet for once?" Dendro groaned, as they looked around the foyer. But there was nothing but abandoned speeders, crates, and other forgotten items.

"Hey!" Bariq snapped, as he poked his rifle at some crates. "It's not my fault the artifacts old Razorface keep leading us into the Nexu's den—"

His rifle knocked over a crate, and then a bundle of fur flew out, and latched itself to his head. The Jawa squealed with outrage as he tried to pry it off. Dendro rolled his eyes and lumbered over. "Easy, Bariq," he assured their short comrade, as he easily pulled off the assailant. "It's just a Momong."

And that it was. The four armed Trandoshan monkey was a bright yellow color, with a variety of exotic shaped black stripes and spots all over him. Its matching yellow eyes were locked onto Dendro as it swiped at him with all of his arms. SN walked over and ran his large eyes over the monkey. "According to my scans, it's a male, and no signs of infection or disease. So apart from his bruised ego, Bariq should be fine." He raised his Umbaran pistol. "Can I blast it now?"

Bariq nodded furiously as he shouted abuse at the Momong, but Zar shook his head. "No, it was just trying to survive before we barged in on him. Drop him, Dendro."

Dendro shrugged and let go of the monkey. But instead of running off, he darted right for Zar, and clambered up to his shoulder. The Momong chattered as it pointed at Bariq. "I say we cook him!" Bariq demanded. "There's got to be some recipes for Momongs!"

But the Momong clutched at Zar's helmet, his eyes huge. Zar glanced at the monkey's handiwork cooking in the ruins of the shop, and despite Bariq's rants, came to his own decision. "Nah," he said firmly, and gave the monkey a scratch behind his giant ears. "We don't cook our fellow team members."

Ru's eyes actually widened. "Since when were wild animals allowed to be team members?"

Zar walked past and patted Ru on the shoulder. "Since now."