Once inside his cabin, Commander Severne sealed the duraplast door behind him and pulled a small sensor sweeper out of his pocket. He checked the readings, making sure that all the listening devices were still in their proper places and no new ones were added, and replaced the sweeper in his pocket. He stood in the middle of the room and spoke softly. "Initiate override Kay-One-Five Severne."

He knew now that he had total privacy. The Imperial Intelligence listening devices strung throughout his room were now broadcasting a randomly selected recording of Severne pacing about his quarters, the shuffling of papers, and the occasional incoherent mutter. It had taken him months to install the system, but now, he was eternally grateful for the time he had spent on it.

Slowly, he walked over to his mahogany desk and sat in his high-backed chair. He folded his hands across the desk and became lost in thought. Can I really do this? He wondered. Yes, it has to be done. The Empire is evil. I have seen as much myself.

His gaze flickered over to his personal datapad, lying on the arm of his chair. All the evidence I could ever hope to convince myself with is sitting right there. The course is plotted; I have no choice but to follow it.

Immediately he thought of Weston. "What will Julian think of me?" he mused. What would it do to the boy if he found out his loving mentor is a traitor to the Imperial cause? He wondered whether Weston was more loyal to him, his commander, or to the Empire. Don't flatter yourself, old man; he's been bred to live in fear, like so many other young ones during this time…

For a moment he flirted with the possibility of bringing Weston into this whole operation. With a twinge of regret, he had to dismiss the idea. He won't follow me. Even though he's like a son to me, he wouldn't throw it all away for a traitor.

Severne reached over and depressed a tiny, innocuous button on the side of the desk, one that was shaped like a black dent. A tiny compartment popped out. Severne withdrew the only item in the drawer: a small, red portable comm unit, its transmissions encoded and undetectable by his Star Destroyer's comm systems. He thumbed the device on.

"Severne transmitting."

Within seconds, a blue hologram burst forth from the comm unit. It resolved itself into a tiny representation of a thickly bearded man. He looked to be about twenty years Severne's junior. He was dressed in a uniform of unrecognizable cut; Severne concluded it was a dress native to the man's homeworld.

"Commander Severne. Is everything in place?"

Severne coughed. "Indeed, General Aston. I'm ready to finalize the plan."

The bearded general nodded genially. "Very well. I assume the Subjugator is en route to Bestine?"

"Correct."

"We've managed to pull our resources together and build a gravity well projector. We'll use that to pluck you out of hyperspace before you get to Bestine. It could get messy if other Imperials run to your aid."

Severne snorted. The irony was appalling.

"Once that happens, simulate a power failure. Can you do that?"

"I have the necessary systems in place, yes."

"Excellent. Then just swoop in and we'll pick you up, no harm done to you and your vessel."

Severne tilted his head impassively. "And what about my position in your little army?"

Aston scratched at his beard. "It's still being negotiated. However, since we have need of experienced starship captains such as yourself, your rank will probably be either equal to or greater than your current rank."

"Very well. Severne out."

"Thanks, commander. You're doing the entire galaxy a favor by helping us fight back against the Empire, you know."

"I understand." He was about to sign off when a curious thought popped into his mind. "General, does this organized resistance of yours have a name yet?"

"Yes, we're the Rebel Alliance."

"The Rebel Alliance…" Severne flicked off the comm unit. "I like that."