Hey folks, this is Grubkiller here.

Sorry for the long wait, busy with work, going on vacation, you know how it is.

Here's the latest chapter.

Enjoy

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General Skywalker's Quarters, Imperial Palace.

"Luke?"

The familiar voice came softly but insistently. Pausing amid the familiar landscape of Tatooine - familiar, yet oddly distorted - Luke Skywalker turned to look.

An equally familiar figure stood there watching him. "Hello, Ben," Luke said, his voice sounding sluggish in his ears. "Been a long time."

"It has indeed," Obi-Wan Kenobi said gravely. "And I'm afraid that it may be longer still until the next time. I've come to say good-bye, Luke. And to bring you a warning."

The landscape seemed to tremble; and abruptly, a small part of Luke's mind remembered that he was asleep. Asleep in his suite in the Imperial Palace, and dreaming of Ben Kenobi.

"No, I'm not a dream," Ben assured him, answering Luke's unspoken thought. "But the distances separating us have become too great for me to appear to you in any other way. Now, even this last path is being closed to you."

"No," Luke heard himself say. "You can't leave us, Ben. We need you."

Ben's eyebrows lifted slightly, and a hint of his old smile touched his lips. "You don't need me, Luke. You are a Jedi, strong in the Force." The smile faded, and for a moment his eyes seemed to focus on something Luke couldn't see. "At any rate," he added quietly, "the decision is not mine to make. I have lingered too long already, and can no longer postpone my journey from this life to what lies beyond."

A memory stirred: Yoda on his deathbed, and Luke pleading with him not to die. Strong am I in the Force, the Jedi Master had told him softly. But not that Strong.

"It is the pattern of all life to move on," Ben reminded him. "You, too, will face this same journey one day, as your father is now." Again, his attention drifted away, then returned. "You are strong in the Force, Luke, and with perseverance and discipline you will grow stronger still." His gaze hardened. "There has been an awakening. Can you feel it? A tremor in the Force?"

"I have," Luke said.

"That is why it has become more difficult to contact you. The Emperor may be gone, but the Dark Side is is still powerful, and it clouds everything. Never forget that, and you must never let your guard down."

"I won't," Luke promised.

Ben's face softened, and again he smiled. "You will yet face great dangers, Luke," he said. "But you will also find new allies, at times and places where you expect them least."

"New allies?" Luke echoed. "Who are they? And what dangers are you talking about?"

The vision seemed to waver and become fainter. "And now, farewell," Ben said, as if he hadn't heard the question. "I'm glad I was able to see you again, my boy. I loved you as a son, and as a student, and as a friend. Until we meet again, may the Force be with you."

"Ben-!"

But Ben turned, and the image faded . . . and in the dream, Luke knew he was gone. Then I am alone, he told himself. I am the last of the Jedi.

He seemed to hear Ben's voice, faint and indistinct, as if from a great distance. "Not the last of the old Jedi, Luke. The first of the new."

The voice trailed off into silence, and was gone . . . and Luke woke up.

For a moment he just lay there, staring at the dim lights of the Imperial City playing across the ceiling above his bed and struggling through the sleep-induced disorientation. The disorientation, and an immense weight of sadness that seemed to fill the core of his being. First Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had been murdered; then his childhood friend, Biggs; Yoda; then Anakin Skywalker, his real Father, had sacrificed his own life for Luke's; and now even Ben Kenobi's spirit had been taken away.

Once again, a beloved friend was taken from him too soon.

And for the third time, arguably, he'd been orphaned.

With a sigh, he slid out from under the blankets and pulled on his robes and slippers. His suite contained a small kitchenette, and it took only a few minutes to fix himself a drink, a particularly exotic concoction Lando had introduced him some weeks ago called 'hot chocolate'. Then, attaching his lightsaber to his robe sash, he headed up to the roof.

He had argued strongly against moving the center of the New Republic here to Coruscant. For one, it was too early, and the New Republic needed time to win over 'hearts and minds'. And it sent the wrong message of centralization, when the whole point of the New Republic was to decentralize. But the New Republic insisted on capturing the old image and glory of the Pre-Palpatine Republic. So that included reforming the Galactic Senate in the Grand Convocation Rotunda in the large domed building in the distance

But then came the matter of the old Imperial Palace, which was being used as the military headquarters of the New Republic Defense Force. The symbolism was all wrong, considering the fact that this used to be the Emperor's residency. But even more importantly, this was the former Jedi Temple. It was sacred. But Chancellor Mothma assured him that once the Jedi Order was officially reestablished, all Jedi sites, like as the Temple, would be given government protection. It wsan't an empty promise either. It was an amendment in the New Republic constitution.

But despite all his uncertainty, he had to admit that the view from the top of the Palace was spectacular.

For a few minutes he stood at the roof's edge, leaning against the chest-high wrought stone railing and letting the cool night breeze ruffle his hair. Even in the middle of the night the Imperial City was a bustle of activity, with the lights of vehicles and streets intertwining to form a sort of flowing work of art. Overhead, lit by both the city lights and those of occasional airspeeders flitting through them, the low-lying clouds were a dim sculptured ceiling stretching in all directions, with the same apparent endlessness as the city itself.

He continued gazing at the cityscape when, twenty yards behind him, the door into the Palace was quietly opened. Automatically, his hand moved toward his lightsaber; but the motion had barely begun before it stopped. The sense of the creature coming through the doorway . . . "I'm over here, Threepio," he called.

He turned to see C-3PO shuffling his way across the roof toward him, radiating the his usual mixture of relief and concern. "Hello, Master Luke," he said. "I'm terribly sorry to disturb you."

"That's all right," Luke told him. "I just wanted some fresh air, that's all."

"Are you certain?" Therapy asked. "Though of course I don't mean to pry."

Despite his mood, Luke couldn't help but smile. Threepio's attempts to be simultaneously helpful, inquisitive, and polite never quite came off. Not without looking vaguely comical, anyway. "I'm just a little depressed, I guess," he told the droid, turning back to gaze out over the city again. "Putting together a real functioning government is a lot harder than I expected, too." He hesitated. "Mostly, I guess I'm missing Ben tonight."

For a moment Threepio was silent. "He was always very kind to me," he said at last. "And also to Artoo, of course."

Luke raised his cup to his lips, hiding another smile behind it. "You have a unique perspective on the universe, Threepio," he said.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Threepio stiffen. "I hope I didn't offend you, sir," the droid said anxiously. "That was certainly not my intent."

"You didn't offend me, Luke assured him. "As a matter of fact, you might have just delivered Ben's last lesson to me."

"I beg your pardon?"

Luke sipped at his drink. "Government and entire planets are important, Threepio. But when sift everything down, they're all just made up of people."

There was a brief pause. "Oh," Threepio said.

"In other words," Luke amplified, "a Jedi can't get so caught up in matters of galactic importance that it interferes with his concern for individual people." He looked at Threepio. "Or individual droids."

"Oh. I see." The droid straightened up. "Well, then, sir. If you are indeed all right, I expect I should be on my way."

"Sure. By the way, what made you come up here in the first place?"

"Princess Leia sent me, of course," Threepio answered, clearly surprised that Luke would have to ask. "She said you were in some kind of distress."

Luke smiled and shook his head. Leave it to Leia to find a way to cheer him up when he needed it . . . in her sleep. "Show-off," he murmured.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

Luke waved a hand. "Leia's showing off her new skills, that's all. She's becoming stronger in the Force. Proving that even in the middle of the night she can pick up on my mood."

Threepio's head tilted. "She really did seem concerned about you, sir."

"I know," Luke said. "I'm just joking."

"Oh." Threepio seemed to think about that. "Shall I tell her you're all right, then?"

"Sure," Luke nodded. "And while you're down there, tell her that she should quit worrying about me and get herself back to sleep. Her husband's bad enough, but she has four-year-olds to take care of, so she's tired enough as is."

"I'll deliver the message, sir," Threepio said.

"And," Luke added quietly, "tell her that I love her."

"Yes, sir. Good night, Master Luke."

"Good night, Threepio."

He watched the droid go, and then he shivered, and not from the cold night air. This place is strong in the dark side. Yoda had said that of the cave on Dagobah - the cave where Luke had gone to fight a lightsaber duel a vision of Darth Vader who had turned out to be Luke himself. For weeks afterward the memory of the sheer power and presence of the dark side had haunted his thoughts; only much later had he finally realized that Yoda's primary reason for the exercise had been to show him how far he still had to go.

Still, he'd often wondered how the cave had come to be the way it had. Wondered whether perhaps someone or something strong in the dark side had once lived there.

As the Emperor had once lived here . . . .

He shivered again. The really maddening part of it was that he couldn't sense any such concentration of evil in the Palace. The Council had made a point of asking him about that, in fact, when they'd first considered moving operations here to the former Imperial City. He'd had to grit his teeth and tell them that, no, there seemed to be no residual effects of the Emperor's stay.

But just because he couldn't sense it didn't necessarily mean it wasn't there.

He shook his head. Stop it, he ordered himself firmly. Jumping at shadows wasn't going to gain him anything but paranoia. His recent nightmares and poor sleep were probably nothing more than the stress of watching Leia and the others struggling to turn a military-orientated rebellion into a civilian-based government. Certainly Leia would never have agreed to come anywhere near this place if she'd had any doubts herself about it.

Leia.

With an effort, Luke forced his mind to relax and let his Jedi senses reach outward. Halfay across the palace's upper section he could feel the New Republic's top diplomat, and Jedi in training, in her drowsy presence. Her presence, and that of her scoundrel husband who lay next to her, and the twin children who slept in the next room.

For a moment he held the partial contact, keeping it light enough to hopefully not awake her any further. He also couldn't help but feel the presence of the two children. The Skywalker heritage was indeed with them.

This was something he had wanted to ask Ben about. But then he realized that he wouldn't be able to get that chance anytime soon.

Fighting back sudden tears, he broke the contact. His mug felt cold against his hand; swallowing the rest of the chocolate, he took one last look around. At the city, at the clouds . . . and, in his mind's eye, at the stars that lay beyond them. Stars, around which revolved planets, upon which lived people. Trillions of people. Many of them still waiting for the freedom and light the New Republic had promised them.

He closed his eyes against the bright lights and the equally bright hopes. There was, he thought wearily, no magic wand that could make everything better.

Not even for a Jedi.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Millennium Falcon, hanger bay, Imperial Palace.

The next day, after receiving the briefing for the attack on Mon Cala, Princess Leia Organa Solo, First Senator of the Galactic Congress, the New Republic's top diplomat, was told to join the Republic fleet as it deployed to the Mon Calamari system. While Ackbar's forces dealt with the Imperial Fleet, Leia would go to the Calamari capital on a good faith tour of the planet, to show that the people of Mon Cala weren't going to be forgotten.

She would go aboard the Millennium Falcon, the captain of which was her husband, and the father of her two twin children, Jacen and Jaina.

But before they had to go, they meet with her brother, Luke Skywalker, who was also being offered a new General commission, and then ordered to be deployed to the Obrao-Skai system, and was also dealing with some serious baggage of his own in that regard.

"Luke, Luke," Han said, arm draped around Luke's shoulders, "this general business, there's nothing to it." He probably thought Luke couldn't see that sly half grin of his. "If I could pull it off, you won't have any problems at all."

"If it's such an easy job, why'd you resign?"

"Better things to do, buddy." Han rolled his eyes at Leia. "The Princess's pretty important, but not so important the New Republic can afford having a full general play chauffeur and bodyguard."

"Bodyguard," Leia sniffed. "If you're my bodyguard, how come I keep having to rescue you?"

"It's how you prove you still love me." He grinned at her and turned back to Luke. Seriously, Luke, you can do this. You're easily . . . uh, almost as smart as me - and you're a lot smarter than, say, Lando. All you've got to do is keep your mouth shut and listen to your officers. Don't the squabble, and always pretend you know what to do next. Simple. Tell him, Chewie."

Chewbacca, reclining with hands behind his massive head on the couch by the gaming station, hadn't even opened his eyes. "Aroowrowr. Regular."

"Oh, you're a lot of help. Luke, ignore him anyway - he hates officers."

"I'm not exactly sure I like being one myself."

The offer of a general's commission had come as a complete surprise to Luke, and not a very pleasant one considering the circumstances. He had recently taken a fleet to destroy an Imperial base and kill the Sith Inquisitor that commanded the local forces as warlord. The "Sith" Warlord, who was on the verge of defeat, sent several asteroids crashing into Mindor's surface, that threatened to destroy the planet, and Luke had to organize an evacuation while also dueling The Warlord to the death.

He refused the commission at first, arguing that the best way to serve the New Republic would be as a Jedi, trying to rebuild the Order. But Ackbar and Mothma refused, saying that the Republic needed him. It was then Lando who went to make the offer, and try to convince him to take the commission, saying that he needed him on the mission.

Luke paced around the Falcon's main hold.

Leia and Han and Chewie all sat around, listening intently.

"It's not just about being an officer," Luke said. "Do you know about the holothrillers being produced, about me? They're just making stuff up about me!"

"Yeah, I've seen 'em." Han grinned as he fished a handheld holo-player out of his vest pocket, and tossed it onto the table. "Bought it a couple months ago. Gives me something to do while I'm waiting for Leia to wrap up negotiations somewhere or just, y'know, finish her hair."

Leia rolled her eyes. "No hair jokes, Han. I'm not kidding."

Luke picked up the player and thumbed the controls over the title page. Luke Skywalker and the Dragons of Tatooine. "Oh, will you look at this junk?" He shook his head disgustingly and tossed it back to Han, who snagged it neatly from the air. "That's what I mean. It's all - just so stupid."

"What? There's dragons on Tatooine, right?"

"Yeah, but when have Krayt dragons been able to breath fire?" Luke asked. "And when have I fought one with a lightsaber? On the back of a bantha. And shirtless!"

"Come on, take it easy, Luke." Han hefted the reader, smiling fondly. Thes're for kids, y'know? And I gotta tell you, some of 'em are actually pretty good."

"Especially the ones about you," Leia muttered darkly, to which Han replied with a smirk.

Luke shook his head. "I shudder to imagine your kids growing up with you showing them this garbage."

Han shrugged. "Hey, I'm gonna teach our kids the true value of art with this stuff." He said as he walked over to Leia and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "And it'll make you a good role model for them."

"Oh, you mean like the one called Luke Skywalker and the Jedi's Revenge?"

"Take it easy, Luke. So writers spice things up a little. What's the harm with a little wham-bam to make you look tough?"

"That's not how I want to look. And therein lies the problem. Everyone is watching me. It's like they're trying to figure out who I'll turn out to be. And being a general . . . sending other people where they have to take someone's life, or get themselves killed . . ." Luke shook his head again. "Playing the hero when you're in charge just gets a lot of people hurt."

"Who's playing?" Han asked.

But then Leia elbowed him, signaling to Han that it was her turn.

"Luke, this commission is a wonderful opportunity, and not just for you," Leia put in. "Force powers aren't the only kind of power , and there are ways of helping people that are a lot more effective than hitting something with a lightsaber. As a Jedi, you might save the occasional, well, princess in distress or some such, but as a general, you can save people. You've already done that time and again, from Yavin to Mindor. The Defense Force needs you, Luke. You give people hope, especially the people you lead."

Luke smiled and shook his head. "I can't beat you in an argument, Leia. I'm no politician, and the ag school in Anchorhead didn't have a debate team. But - I'm a Jedi. I'm probably the Jedi. Becoming a general . . . it just doesn't feel right."

"Well, y'know, Obi-Wan was a general too, back in the Clone Wars."

"I know, but he hardly talked about it." Luke said.

"He was always modest," Leia said. "Obi-Wan was a part of so many of the stories my fath - my, ah, adoptive father used to tell. He was a great hero of the Republic. That's why I turned to him when my cover was blown."

Luke shook his head. "It's just not the way I've always seen myself spending my life."

"Oh, is that all?" Han asked. "C'mob, Luke - nobody ends up living their lives the way they expect."

"No?" Luke asked. "I can think of this one guy - got his own ship, resigned his commission, got the military off his back, pretty much does whatever he wants to do, mostly just flying around the galaxy with his co-pilot rescuing princesses and such, accountable to no one but himself-"

"Accountable to no one? Are you kidding me?" Han looked appalled. "Luke, have you ever met your sister? Allow me to introduce Princess Leia Organa Solo of, ouf-!"

"Of the Extremely Sharp Elbow," Leia finished for him, having delivered the sharp elbow in question rather briskly to his ribs.

"Anyway," Han said as he rubbed his sides, "Would the Force have brought you this chance if you weren't supposed to take it?"

Luke was actually stumped by that comment. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Why not ask Kenobi himself, the next time he shows up as that Force-ghost thing he does?"

Luke shook his head. "He . . . he doesn't come around anymore. He's been drifting away for a while, like he's too far to make contact."

"And maybe that means something," Leia said. Luke gave her a sharp look, and she replied with a shrug, "Look, Luke, I know less about being a Jedi than you do about being a politician, but whatever happens, I'm sure that the Force will still guide your path, and you'll end up knowing where your destiny lies then."

"I suppose," Luke said reluctantly, "it doesn't have to be a career . . ."

"Errrrrr," Chewie barked happily as he gave Luke a big hug and lifted him off of the ground.

Leia laughed, and a broad grin rolled halfway onto Han's face. "You're in?"

Luke nodded, his face turning purple. "I guess I am." He then started petting Chewie wrists. "Okay, Chewie, you can put me down."


RSS Liberator, Captured Imperial Star Destroyer, formerly named the ISD Adjudicator, in orbit above Coruscant.

Luke watched as the fleet en route to Mon Cala jumped into hyperspace, and then he was able to make out the Millennium Falcon, which jumped about five minutes later, wanting to arrive after the fleet went in.

But before it did, he placed his palm on the glass, and reached out with the Force, trying to contact Leia. "May the Force be with you, Leia."

Artoo, who was right next to him, whistled in a whining tone.

"Yes, and Threepio too."

That's when Luke heard footsteps nearby and saw a familiar caped figure walking towards them.

"How're you doing you old pilot?" Lando asked, with his arms outstretched. "So good to see you!"

Luke smiled. He then accepted Lando's offer and bro-hugged him. "Hey Lando."

"I'm so glad that you accepted the offer."

"It took some convincing from Han and Leia. Mostly Leia."

"I can imagine. A sister looking out for her brother. It's beautiful actually, much like her." He cracked, before laughing through his toothy smile. He then looked at Artoo. "And how you doing little buddy. You still keepin' Luke here out of trouble?"

Artoo gave a series of excited beeps.

"I thought so," Lando said. He then slapped Luke's shoulder. "Now, where is your Officer's uniform? Those old wigs back there will eat you alive."

"I don't think I should be taking fashion advice from somebody who wears capes . . . and who occasionally dresses as a casino-owner."

Lando shook his head and smiled. "Luke my friend, if looking good is a crime, then I am ready to do life. Now come on. We have a briefing to get to."


After a five minute walk, Lando, Luke, and Artoo made it to the comms center.

"Admiral Kalback," Lando said as stepped onto the bridge.

All eyes rested on him. But then they shifted towards Luke.

"General Calrissian , and General Skywalker." The human admiral said.

Everybody in the room, mostly the younger officers and crewmen, began to cheer and clap, applauding the latest - and youngest - addition to the Republic Officer Corps.

Luke, somewhat bashful smiled and dismissively waved them off. Wedge Antilles, Luke's old wingman from the Red Squadron days, patted him on the shoulder, and Luke did the same in return.

"Alright, at ease," Kalback said, causing the applause to die down. He then saluted the two men, and then shake their hands.

"It's good to have you with us, General Skywalker." Kalback said as he extended his hand to Luke.

"Likewise Admiral," Luke said, accepting it.

"Now let's get you up to speed." He said before nodding to one of the technicians, a young Mon Calamari woman who controlled the hologram projector.

The lights in the room dimmed, and a schematized holo-representation of the galaxy filled the comms center with ghostly, translucent clouds of blue that ever so slowly twisted and spun, merged and parted, moving into and through each other. High in the center of the room hung the dark space that sat to the west of Imperial and Republic space, about the size of a circular dinner table. Imperial space went from about one-quarter of the galaxy to about three-eighths, mostly in the northern quadrant, with some scattered warlords in the southern outer rim. The Republic controlled the rest, but its position was untenable if Thrawn's attacks kept up. Several contested systems flashed from red to blue, and other systems were declaring neutrality, or in some cases switching sides all together.

"As you already know, over the last few weeks, the Imperials have united under one banner and have been launching a renewed offensive against our outlying systems, stretching our fleet thin. They've raided several border systems with specialized Tie Fighters, equipped with hyperdrives, allowing them to move in and out of lightspeed without help from a nearby capital ship. And then they launch a massive naval assault on a nearby system, causing severe damage to the system's military assets. But then they are forced to disengage and retreat, and then disappear long before New Republic reinforcements arrive. But Thrawn appears to be avoiding the Core systems. My theory is that Thrawn doesn't yet have the forces, or resources necessary to launch a major attack on the galactic center. My plan is simple."

Luke then hit a few keys, and the image zoomed in on the border between Imperial space and the Unknown regions.

"I've recently uncovered a supply route between Imperial space and the Unknown regions. If we were to cut it off, we could halt, or delay Imperial offensives, and buy ourselves more time respond, and maybe even find the source of Thrawn's war machine.

Kalback then gestured towards the technician, who turned the hologram off, and allowed the lights to come back on.

"Any question?" Kalback asked.

A few hands went up.

"Yes, Commander Rex?"

A grizzled old Clone from the final days of the Empire, one of the few clone units to defy the new Empire, stood up. "So, do we know have any plans for going into unknown space undetected?"

The admiral shook his head. "I'm glad you asked, son. Fortunately, we standing aboard a captured Imperial Star Destroyer, like several others captured since the victory over Endor. We have two others in fighting shape. With these ships, and a few Imperial codes, we'll have the perfect disguise as we move through Imperial space, as if we were really one of them, and then when we launch our attacks, they'll be caught completely by surprise. And one side bonus, we might even scare a few warlords into thinking they're being attacked by one of their rivals, and break up Thrawn's little alliance, and the backbone of his operation."

"Next?"

He picked Wedge's hand.

"What search pattern's will we be using to navigate unknown space?"

"Once we get inside their supply lanes, we're going to be launching deep-space probes to begin scanning in the direction that their convoys go. Some were already launched a few days ago, but didn't find anything. So we know where not to look. And then X-Wing squadrons will fan out and do the same. Once you find anything, I want you to contact the rest of the task force and we'll gather at your location. Any more questions?"

No hands went up.

"Alright, report to your duty stations once we reach our destination. Until then, dismissed."

As everyone began to leave Luke couldn't help but notice the look that several of the older officers were giving him

But then he noticed that the older officers weren't cheering for him earlier at all, and some of them, he noted, were less than enthused out Luke being here. As a flight officer, that was one thing. But as a general, their superior, they didn't think he belonged here.

Luke knew he didn't look much like a general, or even a soldier. The smooth curves of his face made him look even younger than his 27 standard years; his sandy hair, streaked blond by radiation from dozens of different stars, he was still shaggier than military-strict, and instead of a general's battle dress uniform he wore a simple, close-fitting flight suit, like the star-fighter pilot he had recently been. Only the rank plaque on his chest marked him as a general, and only the remote, shuttered reserve behind his clear blue eyes showed the price he had paid to earn his rank.

His unconventional appearance extended even to his weapon of choice. Instead of a sidearm, it was a weapon that only a handful of generals had gone into battle with since the end of the Clone Wars.

He carried a lightsaber.

Though Luke would never say it, he agreed with the old timers. More than half of them served in the Alliance before Yavin. And a few, like Kalback, even held commands long ago during the Clone Wars.

And the younger officers wouldn't challenge him on anything because they assumed that as a Jedi, he would know everything.

Right now, all he really knew was that he should never have let Han talk him into this.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Home One, en route to Mon Cala.

As the deep-blue tunnel of hyperspace waved past the viewport of the flagship's bridge, Admiral Ackbar sat in his command chair, waiting with baited breath for his ship to come out of hyperspace, where he would then help free his people, once again.

But as he sat in deep thought, an ensign of the same species called out to him. "Admiral Ackbar, sir. We've intercepted a new hyperspace communications channel. It's being beamed between Mon Cala's orbit, and every system in the Galactic Core. It's coming from the Imperial flagship."

Ackbar stepped up from his chair and walked over to the railing, and looked down at the holo-projector. "Patch the image through to the Chancellor's office."

A few moments later, a hologram of Mon Mothma stood next to Ackbar, as well as several other holograms of Republic officers from the other cruisers. They were all gathered around the holo-projector in the center of the bridge.

The images that were being beamed were straight out of a horror film from the HoloNet.

They saw images of the mighty Mon Calamari orbital shipyards reduced to flaming wrecks that turned into meteor showers that sprinkled across the planet.

A trio Imperial Star Destroyers gathered in a wedged formation to use their combined on the surface below. The ensuing orbital bombardment wiped out several cities that were deep beneath the waves.

Golan defense towers were used to blockade the planet, and deploy stormtrooper battalions to the surface, where they fought bloody battles for control of the few Calamari cities that were above sea level.

Then came images of thousands of Calamari and Quarren peoples being moved into slave ships, after the images of millions of dead bodies floating in the sea.

The Mon Calamari people were being punished for their support of the Rebel Alliance.

"Th-. . . this is Genocide!" Mothma softly exclaimed, taken aback by the images of the destruction of Mon Calamari.

"Monsters! Every last one of them." Someone else said.

"The Empire just did us a favor," Ackbar said.

Every holographic officer around him was flabbergasted, even Mothma

"Admiral, are you feeling okay?" Someone asked.

But Ackbar turned his attention to the bridge crew. "Helm! Recalculate our exit from hyperspace at two degrees from the Empire's point of transmission."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Admiral?" A confused officer asked.

But Ackbar continued to give orders. "All cruisers, form up behind Home One. Single battle line."

The other cruiser slowly started to adjust their hyperspace courses so that they would end up in a single file formation once they entered real-space.

"Admiral?!" Mothma asked.

"Yes, Supreme Chancellor?" Ackbar finally answered.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "If you leave hyperspace at those co-ordinates, you'll smash into whatever's sending that signal."

"That's the idea, Chancellor! Just follow my lead," Ackbar said to everyone else as he hit the button to terminate all of the hologram transmissions from the other ships in the fleet.

"Coordinates locked in, Admiral. We'll exit hyperspace in forty-five seconds!" The Helmsman called out.

"Stand by to cut in sub-light engines." Ackbar said as he returned to his command chair. "Prepare to fire all forward batteries on my command."

"YES, SIR!"

At the split second it emerges from hyperspace, Home One unleashed the full destructive power of its forward weapons. The Imperial Star Destroyer Allegiance, source of the gruesome transmissions, is caught with its deflector shields down. The bridge superstructure erupted into a ball of flames, and the rest of the ship was claimed by the planet's gravitational pull.

"Were blasting through the blockade!" Ackbar said over a fleet wide transmission. "All ships, follow our lead!"

"We copy, Home One. We're coming in astern."

Soon, every cruiser in the Republic fleet followed Home One, acting out a tactic created by Ackbar himself.

The Ackbar Slash.

The fleet's heavy capital ships formed a single battle line and carved straight through the Imperial formation, hammering away at Imperial warships on either side with their broadsides.

Star Destroyers that were closest to the Republic battle line were reduced to smoldering wrecks, and the Imperial fleet tried desperately to split apart and reform into two battlegroups to counterattack. But they were soon swarmed by Republic fighters, assault frigates, and blockade runners.

The Liberation of Mon Cala had truly begun.

The last thing the ISD Allegiance transmitted was the arrival of the Republic Navy blasting its way though the Imperial blockade, giving a ray of hope to all of those who were watching with dread just a few minutes ago. Not least of all to the peoples of Mon Cala.

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Imperial Space, near the borders of the unknown regions.

The Imperial captain stood on the bridge of his Victory-class Star Destroyer, an old class of ship dating back to the end of the Clone Wars. At 900-meters long, it was about have the size of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer.

Along with his flagship, he had an Arquitens-class light cruiser and several small frigates, escorting a fleet of tankers and supply ships from the Byss system, to support Thrawn's war against the Rebellion.

Neat and tidy like good Imperial personnel, the decent-sized convoy moved slowly through the nebulas and asteroid fields that riddled the few navigable routes in and out of the unknown regions.

Were it not for the Battle of Endor, he could have been back on Vardos with his wife and family, retired. But the total collapse of the Empire had forced him to stay on, and his family even had to abandon their home. The rebels would pay for what they did, and he would serve in whatever capacity was necessary to help make that happen.

So here he was on an old warship, babysitting some cargo-haulers.

With the Republic fleet scattered, desperately trying to hold off the Grand Admiral's seemingly endless series of attacks all over the galaxy, he wasn't expecting any serious resistance.

That was about to change.

"Sir, two Star destroyers are holding position just outside the nebula." Someone reported to him.

"Well good, we must be getting close to our destination. Get ready to open a channel with them." The captain ordered.

"We have sir, they aren't responding."

The captain was confused. He walked back to the command center and pressed a few keys on the holo-table, bringing up an image of the two massive ships.

"Well that's stran..."

"SIR, They're raising shields and charging weapons!"

No sooner had he said this than the two seemingly friendly Imperial ships began to open fire on the convoy.

"Red alert, tell the convoy to scatter and tell our escorts to follow us! And somebody try to raise the fleet!"

They were still too far away from Poderis, and even though their distress signal was being broadcast, it was all a fruitless gesture. Were there any other Imperial forces in the vicinity? Highly unlikely. Jumping into hyperspace in this dangerous route was ill-advised with all the asteroids and gas giants. So escape wasn't going to be easy.

The guns of the Imperial-class ships showed that their mighty turbolasers were firing, and the Victory-class began to take hits before it, and its escorts returned fire, if only to show they had teeth. But it was barely a whimper in comparison to the attacking Star Destroyers, which merely absorbed the incoming fire with their powerful shields.

Gunships and corvettes evaporated, and the larger ships were pummeled. The few TIE fighters the convoy carried were swatted out of the sky with very little ease.

The light cruiser broke up slowly before an explosion ripped through its hull and blasted its bridge tower and engines into several different directions.

"By the Emperor's black bones!" The captain cursed. "Tell all of our ships to scatter, and keep trying to raise the fleet. They need to be somewhere out there!"

An explosion ripped through the ship, and the captain found himself face down on the deck, before things went black.

One of the last things he saw was the holo-table projecting an image of the battle, which showed the Imperial-class ships blasting away at the remains of the convoy.


When the captain finally came too, he realized that he was in an escape pod, surrounded by some of his officers, most of whom had some type of injury, whether it be a missing limb, like himself, or a bandaged up head or torso.

"Status!" He groaned out.

One officer, with a bandage rapped around the crown of his head gave a salute. "Sir, the two ships have gotten away, and our entire convoy was destroyed or captured. I gave the order to scuttle and then abandon ship. We also received a response to our distress signal."

The captain let his head rest back against the deck and he allowed himself stare up at the bulkhead.

Two hours later, Imperial reinforcements arrived. But their quarry had long vanished.

He was half expecting them to fire upon him.

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Hey Folks, Grubkiller here.

Here's the latest chapter of this story.

Please, enjoy.