A young Mansurien girl screamed as an Imperial trooper aimed his blaster at her head. He pulled the trigger--

"No!"

The trooper dropped his gun, the blast going elsewhere, shuddering as he fell to the ground.

Devante ran over to the little girl. "Are you okay?" She nodded. "Good. Now go to the shelters. Now!" She nodded again and ran to the nearest shelter complex. Devante turned to Chaka. "Thanks for the lightning. It was a strong amount this time. You are getting better."

The man inclined his head. "Thank you, Captain, sir."

"Direct more lightning to me, now!"

Chaka obliged without question. Devanted controlled that energy and sent it raging through the bodies of three more troopers.

Devante took his seat. "Good. We are all here. Let us begin."

The captains of the Seven Gifted Squadrons all sat around a circular table. A man on Devante's left with a poorly healed scar on his left cheek stood and looked at Devante.

Devante nodded. "We recognize you, Paytah, Captain of Fire Squadron."

"We are in dire need of more soldiers, even those will little talent at all can still fight. I suggest a conscription requirement. If we are to win this battle, we need greater numbers. If the people want peace, they need to be willing to fight--and even die--to obtain that peace."

Next, to Paytah's left, a stunning woman with intense gray eyes stood and gazed impatiently at Devante, daring him to ignore her.

As Paytah sat down, Devante slowly nodded to the woman. "We recognize you, Gaia, Captain of Earth Squadron."

"I dissagree. Consciption requirements bring in people who have no idea how to direct their affinities and use them in combat. It would be genocide of our own people. You would be laying them out like new born babes. They would be injured and even killed without hesitation."

A lanky man on Devante's right gracefully rose, youthful but wise, in the prime of his life, with deep blue eyes to match the veins that could be seen through his clear skin. He nodded to Gaia and she elegantly took her seat. The lanky man gazed at Devante.

Devante nodded to him. "We recognize you, sir, Zhi, Captain of Healing Squadron."

Zhi cautiously chose his words, finally deciding on simply, "To require a conscription would be mortally devastating to our population." He retook his seat as the others inclined their heads to him."

A muscular woman with a fierce look and a thin unibrow to Gaia's left stood and gazed at Devante.

Devante nodded to her. "We recognize you, Namazzi, Captain of Water Squadron."

"I agree with Captain Paytah." She nodded curtly and sat down.

To her left, another burly man stood and gazed at Devante.

"We recognize you, Bavol, Captain of Air Squadron."

Bavol nodded his head to Namazzi. "As do I. I believe Captain Paytah is correct." As Bavol sat back down, the woman between him and Zhi stood. Fire seemed to flare around her.

Devante nodded to the woman second to his right, cautious of her anger. "We recognize you, Imogene, Captain of Illusion Squadron."

Passionately she stared into the eyes of each Paytah, Namazzi, and Bavol. "Are you all stark mad! You would throw away the lives of your own people!" She turned to intensify her gaze onto Devante. "And what say you!"

Devante slowly rose and gazed at Zhi.

Zhi nodded to Devante. "We recognize you, sir, Devante, Captain of Lightning Squadron."

"If we do not have more warriors, the lives of the people will not matter because they will be dead. The force of the troopers is very strong, stronger than we have planned to ever fight if the need actually arose. We are not ready for this war because we know nothing of war. We are a peacful peoples who use our powers to make life easier." He nodded to Paytah. "While we do need more people..." He nodded to Zhi. "... the consiquences of untrained warriors fighting Imperials would be devastating." He slowly panned his gaze around the table. "But we need the people."

Imogene stood, foregoing all tradition. "So you actually agree!" At an intense glare from both Devante and Zhi, she lowered her head and reseated herself. "Appologies."

Devante, still standing, smiled. "No worries, Captain. Your passion is much needed in these time, and your spirit. Your faithfullness to the people is to be admired as well. But there is a way to mediate. We will conscript, but only those with enough power to be of use. Before they are even sent out to fight, they will go through rigorous training so as not to be throwing their lives away. Also, I suggest opening up the conscription as less of a requirement, and more of a request." He held up his hand to silence Paytah. "For the time being, at least... You'll find people more accommodating if they come into something of their own free will." Devante paused and looked around the room. "Are we agreed... for now?"

All but Imogene nodded and slapped an open palm onto the table. Imogene hesitated, and--for a moment--it looked as if she would lay a closed fist upon the table. But slowly, she nodded and added her open palm to the others'.

Hateya casually took Luke's arm as she joined him in the yard after exercises. "So, Master Sky..."

Ignore it, Luke. Ignore it. Luke smiled cheerfully. "Yes, Hateya?"

She pouted. "You're no fun... Anyway, did you notice the new lightsaber containers, Master Sky?"

"Why, yes, I did, Hateya. Facing west now."

She leaned in close to his ear. "Facing us..." She winked at him. "Ezhno realizes what you're doing, too. I think Alden, as well."

"Well, don't go spreading the word too much until all is in order... please."

Hateya let go of Luke's arm and bowed. "As you wish, Master Sky," she said with a cruel smile.

"You..." Hateya turned around and went off to the Force knows where. There she goes again... He stared after her. If only, if only... He shook his head and went to meditate in his corner.

Leia discreetly elbowed Han to wake him up, then beamed a winning smile to Lorien and the delegates. "Then it's settled. We are allies. A fleet will be ready to assist you in three days. On that third day, that fleet will escort you back to Mansur to help you in your battle against the Imperials."

The group stood from their seats in the meeting chamber and prepared to depart. "Will you be joining that fleet, my lady?" asked Ashon with an air of youthful hope.

Han put his arm around Leia's waist. "Of course she is. We wouldn't be a husband and wife team if she stayed behind, now would we?"

Ashon lowered his eyes and bowed his head. "To be sure." He glanced Lorien, who signaled for The Seventh to lead the delegates from the chamber.

Han leaned in close to Leia's ear. "Finally, some fun!"

Sweat poured down Luke's brow in the dead of night as he concentrated the Force on the clouds above. Even if they've already changed the containers, I still have to keep these sandstorms up so they don't suspect anything... After a while, be took a deep breath and released his hold on the clouds. That should do it...

Someone knelt beside the side of Luke's cot. "Got a moment, Sky?"

Luke sat up and rolled over on his left to face his visitor. "Eron?"

"I may not have much control to speak of when it involves the Force, but I sure as Hell have good senses. I can clearly see what you're doing."

"Oh?"

"Help me sense more below the surface of the complex. I don't have enough control. I want to see what you, Hateya, Ezhno, and Alden have been looking at, but I'm not strong enough. Now, don't give me Yoda Quotes; I know them. I simply don't have enough control. You can sense that. I know you can. You don't have to sugar-coat it for me."

Luke nodded slowly.

... After a couple hours, Luke managed to help Eron find his way through the metal below the complex. Eron tried to catch his breath. "... So... that's your... plan... And that's why... you've been... creating... storms from the east... and holding back... those from the west..."

"Yes."

Eron smiled. "Everyone always suspected you'd be the one to bust us out." He stood. "When you have a plan in order, let us know. We will all stand by your side when you need us without asking any questions."

Luke smiled. "Thanks."

Eron turned around and started walking back to his own cot.

"Eron?"

Eron turned back around to face Luke. "Yeah, Sky?"

"Why?... Why do you trust me? Why does everyone trust me?"

Eron sighed. "It's true that you're powerful, wise, balanced in the Force, and have fought the Dark Side with all your heart and soul--and those are important. Now this may seem cliche, but what truly matters is what you have brought us: hope--something that, before you came, we hadn't had for a very long time." Eron bowed. "Good night, Master Sky."

Note: I skipped the boring political fluff. I don't like political fluff. If you do, too bad. Find political fluff elsewhere, because you won't find it here... because I loathe it... Thank you.