Freedom and democracy are but a distant memory. Under Emperor Palpatine's rule, the Galactic Empire tighten their grip across the galaxy, with only the growing Rebellion standing in their way.

But despite all of that, life goes on. Those who haven't been enslaved or crushed by the Empire, have accepted the new ruling power, and choose to submit rather than be destroyed.

On a distant station, the pilot Anac Volinar has completed his latest job, and hopes to continue to try and make his way in the universe…

Spice. Smoke. Exotic food. So many different scents mixed together and battled against the foul stench of the client. It was hard to say which was winning out, but regardless, he still felt his head swim. The sights didn't help much either.

"The inspection is complete," said the blue Togruta to her employer. "All cargo is accounted for and no hidden explosives, toxins, other forms of assassination that they could detect."

The cybernetic Hutt took a long breath out of a hookah as tall as him near his throne. He blew it out at them and growled something undoubtedly paranoid in Huttese. A master of her craft, the Togruta replied, "Lord Rancarix, Anac Volinar is not only one of Dipali Jha's best cargo pilots, she raised him herself. I'd trust him as I would any of my own clan."

Anac appreciated the praise, but he didn't savor it just yet. Rancarix was paranoid even for a Hutt, though it was hard to blame him, since a well-hidden explosive left him with more than one mechanical prosthetic. While Rancarix had become a legitimate businessman, he still had tight security, and more than one poor soul had gotten shot to pieces because another seizure of fear had consumed the Hutt.

But then he waved a metal arm, complete with a nasty looking wrist cannon, and opened a locked jar full of living tentacled critters. Whenever he was eating, that meant discussions were over, unless you were tired of living. The Togruta took out a datapad and tapped some numbers. "The payment has been transferred to Dipali Deliveries' account. Once again, thank you for your patience and understanding, Anac."

Before he could reply, a slight alarm sounded behind them, and they turned to look. Immediately, several of the seemingly harmless pretty Togruta servants dogpiled the newcomer, a bulking Devaronian. A storm of fists and well-placed kicks brought him crashing to the ground. A red Togruta tugged on one of his horns, which popped off, and a small blaster slid out.

"No, thank you for not beating me into Jogan paste," said Anac. "Oh, and Dipali Deliveries thanks you for choosing our services, and we hope to help you with your delivery and transport needs…preferably next millennium, but I'll see if I can find something next century."

She gave him a less than professional but genuine smile. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay? You traveled a long way here from Shili."

The Devaronian fumbled back up and swiped at his attackers. Another Togruta leapt up and gripped his neck with her thighs. He futilely tried to tug them off as he collapsed once more to the floor. "I feel like his need for attention is greater than mine," Anac replied, unconsciously raising a hand to his own neck. "But if Aunt Dipali forces, I mean, assigns me to another trip here, then I'll take you up on your offer."

The Togruta smiled sadly, but understandingly. "Of course," she said, and stroked his face. "Safe travels, Anac Volinar."

Anac nodded and made his way to the door, careful not to bump into the Togrutas who continued to beat on the would-be assassin.

Only when he was back in the more open market areas of the Krayt Tooth Station, did he breathe easy again. Normally, most of the clients he delivered to were uneventful, apart from perhaps the Imperials. The only action he sometimes got into was dealing with pirates and other raiders who tried to attack his ship for cargo. It wasn't the easiest job, but it beat being a smuggler for the various criminals across the galaxy, or worse, the Rebellion. With some luck, hopefully he could get Aunt Dipali to make sure he didn't do deliveries for Rancarix anymore. He didn't want to get beaten to an inch of his life because the Hutt suspected that he was another assassin.

The comm on his wrist went off and he answered. "Don't worry, R5, I'm on my way back."

The astromech's floodgates opened and he let loose a tidal wave of curses and oaths. "Ok, next time, you can tell Rancarix the Hutt to hurry up. Who knows, he might make you into his next food jar. Want me to tell you about the slimy living things he was eating?"

There was a pause, and the astromech's reply was grumpy, but subdued. "Good," Anac noted, as he waved and shook his head at a Twi'lek who was waving a plate of her stall's food at him. "Glad there's some common sense in your circuitry. Get the Saber ready to go, and if we return to Shili early, I'll make sure you get that oil bath that Aunt Dipali promised."

A while later, he was in the hangar. A small diner and cantina had been set up for the pilots that arrived in the hangar, so they could have a good meal as soon as they arrived, or before they were about to embark on another long journey. And it was going to be a fairly decent trip back to Shili. With that in mind, Anac sat down at the bar, gave the droid bartender his order, and sat in anticipation for his meal.

Someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around to find a short nervous Sullustan covered with knapsacks staring back at him. "Dipali Deliveries will be happy to help you with all of your delivery needs," Anac grunted. "Now please, can you make an official request to them over the comm? I'm about to have dinner."

The Sullustan, a male from the sound of its voice, jabbered rapidly in his native Sullustese. Anac shook his head exasperatedly. "I don't speak that, but I don't think that meant you're going to put in a call, huh?"

In response, the Sullustan took off one of his knapsacks, and almost shoved it at him. Anac was furious; respectable delivery man or not, he wasn't going to take this. He snapped his fingers at the bartender to get his attention. The droid nodded and spoke into its built in comm, but the alien ran off before he could finish. "My apologies, Mr. Volinar," said the droid, and put the meal in front of him. "I have alerted security; they will try and apprehend that hoodlum. In the meantime, enjoy this meal on the house."

Anac thanked the droid and gulped down half his soup in one gulp. Finally, a small break. "Not sure why he wanted to hire you, Crashlander."

Anac fought the urge to slam the bowl into whoever said that and glanced to his right. A lean Chagrian leered at him over his mug. "He may not have heard of your rep," the alien slurred, and sloppily took another sip of his drink, dripping it all over the floor and bar. "But anyone who has been to Shili knows about Corvala's most infamous pilot student, or his crash landing anyway—"

That was the last straw. Anac grabbed the Chagrian's closest top horn and yanked it down. The alien's big blue head made a satisfying crunch into the bar and he collapsed into a moaning sentient pile. "My apologies," Anac told the bartender, and slid him a few credits.

The droid nodded and waved a dismissive hand. The other bar patrons gave a mix of mean scowls and approving grins at him. Anac did his best to ignore it and made his way to his ship. He could tolerate a lot of things, in no small part thanks to Aunt Dipali's training, but nobody brought up his most humiliating pilot experience and got away with it.

As he arrived at his ship, his anger washed away at the sight of it. A graduation gift from Dipali, it was a sleek triple engine ship, complete with Togruta markings. His red and black astromech was finishing some last minute adjustments on the landing gear when he beeped irritably at his owner. "Because, R5-C8," Anac chided him, "I can get away with it, while you cannot. Well, not in a straight up fight, usually."

R5 gave a defiant blurp at him. "Don't even," said Anac, as they went up the ship ramp. "He didn't know about your gear, and you know it."

They arrived at the cockpit and Anac took a moment to make sure R5 hadn't moved anything again. Sure enough, he had. "If I told you once, I told you a million times," he snapped, as he put the graduation picture of him and his class back in its rightful spot, "leave my stuff alone."

For once, the droid didn't have a comeback, and just sulked as they took off. Anac made sure to check the scanners and their surroundings as they flew out and around the corner towards home. The Krayt Tooth Station had been made out of an old space station that Rancarix had bought and refurbished, complete with a pyramid-like structure on top. Private security starfighters hovered menacingly as other civilian transports flew and from the station—

—where a group of Imperial warships waited nearby.

Anac frowned. What were the Imps doing out here? Rancarix took his legal business seriously, he wouldn't have dared to try and do something that would bring the Empire knocking on his doorstep.

Before he could ponder further, a pair of TIE Interceptors pulled alongside him. "Attention," said a voice over the comm. "We are tracking a Rebel agent that was sighted at this station. State your name, crew, business, and cargo, or prepare to be boarded."

Anac relaxed slightly, but not by much. "Certainly, sir," he answered. "This is the Dipali Delivery vessel, Corvala Saber, piloted by Anac Volinar. Only other passenger is my droid. I just made a delivery of industrial material ordered by the owner of Krayt Station, Rancarix. Was on my back to Shili."

"Standby as we scan your ship. Provided the signal and codes check out, the station owner can vouch for you, and that we detect no other beings on board, you may proceed. Attempt to flee, and we will shoot you down."

Anac unconsciously checked his controls, hoping no sudden error or slip would nudge the ship, otherwise he was history. If the TIEs didn't get him, he didn't fancy his chances against the Gozantis or light cruisers. "Scan complete," the pilot replied. "No anomalies detected, and the station has confirmed your story. You may proceed."

Anac heaved a sigh of relief, gave the pilot his thanks, and flew past the Imperial ships. Once he was back home, a drink was very much in order.

His comm flashed again. Frowning, he flipped a switch, and a hologram of a middle aged Togruta appeared. "Aunt Dipali," said Anac, with a relieved smile. "You had me worried for a second, thought the Imps were going to call me back."

Dipali's normally red face was made blue by the hologram, and it was strained slightly by her worried expression. "Imperials?" she asked. "What happened? I thought you were on your way to Rancarix's station."

"Just left. Managed to deliver his cargo ahead of schedule. Some Imperial ships were waiting on the way out, tracking some criminal."

Her face returned to its normal splendor as she relaxed. "Good. Last thing I want for you is trouble with the Empire. Anyway, there's a new job, and you're the closest pilot to them. They're waiting at a refueling station not too far away."

"Consider it done," he assured her. "Send me the coordinates. With some luck, I'll be back in time for—"

"The anniversary," she chuckled. "Yes, Anac, I remember. I may be getting on in years, but my memory hasn't failed me yet. Coordinates sent. I'll see you again soon. Love you, Anac."

"Love you too, Aunt Dipali," he told her, and the hologram faded.

In no time at all, the coordinates were punched into the navicomputer, and they were on their way to the station. Anac laid back in his chair. He could almost taste the meal he knew was waiting for him.

A bleeping sound woke him up. Anac scrambled awake and fumbled for the controls. "Are we here already?" he yawned at R5.

A short rude beep answered him. "Thought so. Dropping out, now—"

As soon as they dropped out, a starfighter almost clipped the cockpit. Before he could swear, he saw more ships and transports getting blasted apart by TIEs outside the refueling station in the planet's orbit. Then a voice came over the comm before he could do anything else.

"Attention, Corvala Saber. We captured and interrogated the Rebel at Krayt Tooth Station. You are in possession of Imperial property that was formerly in his possession. Surrender now, or we will open fire."

His entire mind and body went numb. Imperial property? Him? But—

Then he checked his pockets and came away with a data chip. The Sullustan must have slipped it in there when he looked away—

The ship trembled and he jolted back into reality. A TIE Interceptor was heading right towards him, guns blazing. Anac let his instincts take over, and went full speed towards the planet. He wasn't going to let the Imps kill him, he hadn't done anything wrong, it was all that Rebel's fault. With some luck, maybe he could lose them on the planet, and then he could find a reasonable Imp to explain this to.

R5 squealed shrilly as they dove through the atmosphere. "I know!" Anac half shouted at him. "Just standby, I'll need you for repairs in case anything goes wrong!"

He had forgotten the name of the planet already, but as they approached the surface, Anac dimly registered that it looked beautiful. Green fields and massive canyons. At least if he died here, he'd have a nice resting place.

Then an idea formed in his mind. "R5, check the scanners. Let me know what they make of those canyons."

The astromech did so without complaint and quickly had an answer. He made his way to the nearest canyon, flying over the locals herding some animals. "Good. Not much choice, but beats getting vaporized—"

Now the droid had an urgent complaint. "I don't care about the interference!" he roared at the droid. "I care about getting shot down, or worse, getting sent to an Imperial work camp! You want to mine spice on Kessel for the rest of your existence?!"

He didn't bother waiting for answer, and flew over the cliff, down into the canyon system. Anac barely avoided some lasers as the TIEs following opened fire, so when the closest available cavern entrance showed up, he gladly soared right in. The inside was huge, filled with abandoned mining equipment, and the walls glittered with strange metals, rocks, and crystals.

Unfortunately, Anac quickly realized why R5 was so against going into the caverns. He quickly tried to fix it, but no matter what he did, the scanners were going haywire. Meaning he was effectively going in blind. R5 gave a sullen bleep, to which he gracefully replied, "Keep it up, and you'll be mining for spice until your insides get clogged with it!"

A green laser shot past them and hit the cavern wall. Then the whole cavern started to shake apart, with rocks, equipment, and dust falling all around them. R5 shrieked as Anac took the ship deeper into one of the cavern tunnels. As he turned a corner, a crane zoomed up to meet them. Anac swore and tilted the ship. He barely fit past it, and he felt the wing clip the ceiling. Anac tried not to think of what Dipali would do to him if he ever saw her again. But then he heard an explosion behind him; one of the TIEs must have run into it. A bit of luck at last.

But as he continued to dart up and down, left and right, tilt the ship in a variety of angles as he flew deeper into the caverns, Anac knew he couldn't keep this up much longer. Whatever TIEs were left hadn't fired again, but it was only a matter of time before they'd risk another shot.

Then they arrived at another cavern, filled with more mining vehicles, ceiling scaffolding, and stalactites, and Anac finally saw an exit out of this nightmare. An idea born of desperation, madness, or both came to him. "Remember the graduation course, R5?!" he shouted. "This is going to be that, but worse!"

He went into a spin and opened fire at the ceiling, and anywhere else that seemed like a good target, avoiding the TIEs own fire by inches. The stalactites and ramps fell from above, and Anac put everything into the engine as he shot past them. The abandoned mining vehicles exploded, belching up smoke that further clouded their vision. Anac thought he heard the other TIEs explode as well, but he wasn't taking any chances. He fired a few more shots at the top of the exit, and flew out back into the sky as the exit collapsed. Thankfully, his equipment was back to normal, and R5 told him that the TIEs were gone. The downside, as the astromech added, was the ship had taken a decent beating from the falling debris.

As if they hadn't been through enough, more TIEs appeared on the scanners. "We'll have to risk a jump," he grunted, as they headed back up into space. "Get us ready for hyperspace, R5."

A small storm of green lasers flew past them, so R5 did his job without comment. But all of that fancy flying from before had taken its toll on Anac; more than one laser landed on the Saber, and he mentally begged the Force for salvation. He had never asked for anything like this to happen; he had been a hard working pilot ever since graduation, he never took bribes, always made sure to his job the best of his ability, and did everything he could to repay Dipali for being there for him. It couldn't end like this—

As if in response to his prayers, R5 squealed with joy and relief, the black void of space blurred into the white-blue tunnel of hyperspace. Anac collapsed into his chair. "Well," he sighed, "that happened. Now what?"

R5 made a hesitant bleep. Anac felt whatever little strength he had left evaporate. "Aunt Dipali…R5, what are we going to tell her?"

Alarms flashed on his controls. Anac read what was happening, and he yelled, "Oh, come on universe! Haven't you screwed us enough already?!"

With a jolt, the ship fell out of hyperspace in the middle of nowhere, and drifted listlessly with only the stars for company. Anac ran a hand across his face. "Apparently not. R5, see what you can do. I'll check on the engines."

He hurried down to the back of the ship. As soon as he saw the engines, he knew they were in trouble. The engines hissed and spluttered with sparks. Anac quickly grabbed some tools and tried to get to work fixing this. He carefully began to prod at the insides to see if there was anything he could fix—

—and then something else in the ship exploded. The whole vessel rocked and the last thing Anac knew was the feeling of his head hitting the wall.

Warmth and comfort. As he came further to, Anac realized that was the opposite of what he last felt. He tried to move, but a firm but soft hand held him down. "Easy, kid," said a female voice. "That was a nasty hit you took. Don't worry, you're safe here."

Safe. Another word that didn't fit…but why didn't it?

Then Anac remembered the fiasco with the Empire. "Aunt Dipali," he groaned. "Have to talk to her—"

The hand held him back again. As his vision returned, he saw an attractive pink humanoid alien looking down at him. A few others were there, along with R5, who let out some joyful beeps, a medical droid, a mix of humans and aliens, including—

"YOU!" Anac roared, and a massive orange Nikto helped the pink lady hold him back.

The Sullustan who had slipped him the data chip let out a torrent of unknowledgeable words. But Anac could see the alien looked resolved. Then there was a crunch and the Sullustan yelped and clutched at his foot. R5 snarled at the alien as he backed away. "Calm down," said the pink alien. "My name is Vui Riqu. I'm the commander of this cell. We found you drifting through space after the battle. Don't worry about your ship; it's in the hangar, and we'll have it back in shape before you know it."

R5 rolled up to the bed and Anac gratefully patted the droid on the head. "I was hoping frog boy over there had bought it. It's the least he could have done after the stunt he pulled."

Vui let out a frustrated sigh and took a long chug out of a flask. "Aren't you Rebels supposed to be military types?" Anac frowned. "Drinking when an Imperial attack could happen at any time doesn't sound very professional."

"I can handle it," she grunted. "I'm a Zeltron. Anyway, our Sullustan friend managed to escape the Imps, and we spirited him away before they could get their hands on him again. Thank you for keeping the chip safe, by the way, the data on it will go a long way to helping us—"

"And all it cost was my life!" Anac snapped. "I'll never be able to go back to Shili now thanks to you!"

The Zeltron looked frustrated but guilty at the same time. She waved the others out and waited until they were alone. "I'm sorry about what happened," she said softly. "But my subordinate had no other choice. I know we can't give you your life back, but we can still help keep you safe from the Empire. My husband is a smuggler; he could use a pilot like you in his crew, that was some flying you did back there—"

Anac buried his face in his hands. His life was ruined. He couldn't go back home, but he'd be damned if he joined some smuggler, especially it meant running jobs for other crooks like the Hutts. As much as he hated it, he only had one option available. "I'll join your cell."

Vui raised her eyebrows. "I've seen smugglers," he explained. "No offense to your husband, but I'd rather stick my head into the nearest engine than work with gangsters or crooks."

She took another swig of her drink, but soon found it was empty. "Some would say we're criminals," she noted, as she tried shaking out the last few drops.

"At least you're idealistic ones. And you don't have some ravenous monsters in the basement like I've heard some of the Hutts do. But I bet you do have some openings for pilots here, especially after your latest run-in with the Empire."

She gave him a long look, then nodded, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Deal," she agreed. "I'll get everything set up. And listen, kid…again, I truly am sorry. We will try and make this up to you, I promise."

Vui walked out, leaving Anac with only R5 for company. The astromech bleeped somberly as he looked out the viewport. Anac turned around as best he could to see what his droid was looking at. No planets, but there was a vivid red and white nebula. Despite everything, it still calmed Anac down. It reminded him of the turu-grass from home. At the first chance he got, he'd try and find a way to send a message to Dipali…somehow—

The door slid open and the duo looked around. A blue Duros with a narrow angular face stood there, holding two cups. "Vui said you joined," he noted in a world-weary voice. "Funny, how despite all their fancy speeches about the Empire ruining our lives, the Rebels are no slouches at it either. It true that Worrt Boy—that's the Sullustan by the way—is responsible for roping in you with the likes of us?"

Anac eyed the Duros warily, unsure of what to make of him. The Duros carefully waved a hand, taking care not to spill what was in it, and pulled up a chair. "I would say don't worry, but that's only if I'm picking your pocket. Unfortunately, I'm guessing that all of your goods are under lock and key, and I don't fancy getting my fingers crushed by Vui's pet Rancor."

He wasn't sure if the Duros was kidding or not, but Anac felt a smile twitch despite himself. The Duros held out one of the cups and Anac took it. "See?" the alien grunted, and took a slug. "Much easier to get people to open up without all of that Sith spit they try and pass for pep talks. Doesn't hurt if you got a Ruby Bliel either. Name is Dreo Dabaro. Yourselves?"

Anac sipped his drink; it was surprisingly good, and further lifted his spirits. "Anac Volinar," he replied. "And this is my astromech, R5-C8. Don't take his comments personally, he's always been a bit foulmouthed since my parents salvaged him."

Dreo raised his cup in a mock toast and Anac clinked his own cup against it. "Pleased to meet you, Anac and R5," he said with a slight smile. "What say we all try and keep each other alive until this craziness they call a Rebellion is done, shall we?"