"So…where are you from?"

"Eres."

Chessa chewed her lower lip and searched her memory "Sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it." She shook her head "Anyway, I'm from Onderon."

"Onderon, huh? Well then, we have something in common."

Chessa turned to Uster and tilted her head "Yeah? What's that?"

"Both of our worlds were ravaged during the Mandalorian Wars. They set fire to our xoxin fields, and they claimed your moon as their territory," Uster said.

"Burning fields seems like kind of a lesser crime there," Chessa replied.

"The fires burned for decades afterwards."

Chessa winced "Ah, sorry. But you know, that did happen almost four-thousand years ago. Are you really still bitter over such an old grudge?"

Uster paused to consider it "No, I suppose not. Still, it's hard to forget."

"You know, I met some Mandalorians once, they seemed like okay guys. Plus, one of my squadmates is a Mandalorian."

Uster snorted "I'm so sorry."

"Ah, you get used to her."

They lapsed back into silence.

After a moment, Uster spoke again "So, what did you do on Onderon? Before you joined the Rebellion?"

That time, Chessa paused before answering "My family owned some land, we raised nerfs. My father taught me how to pilot a Skyhopper."

"So, you made the jump from airspeeder to X-Wing?"

"That's right. They're not so different, you know. Cockpit and controls? Very similar."

Chessa took off her helmet. Her brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, which she promptly undid and shook free. "So, what did you do on Eres?"

"Worked in the fields. Not something I wanted to do though. I always wanted to be a pilot."

"Yeah? Why was that?"

Uster didn't immediately reply. Instead, he reached into a pouch on his uniform, fished out a small chip and tossed it to Chessa. "Because of him."

Chessa paused to examine the device. It was a tradechip, people collected them. They usually depicted sports stars or podracer pilots. Chessa activated the chip, and a small, flickering hologram came into existence. Chessa tilted her head in surprise.

"Plo Koon?"

Uster nodded "Yeah, Plo Koon. When I was a kid, my town was constantly under attack from pirates. They stole and they murdered, everyone was scared. And then one day, he flew into town in his ship. His starfighter was gorgeous, the Delta-6 Sprite class starfighter. He dealt with the pirates, the survivors never troubled us again."

Chessa shrugged "Well, the Jedi were before my time, but he sounds like quite the guy."

Uster nodded "Quite. He came back during the Clone Wars, him and his niece. Saved us again from the Separatists. They were…good people."

"An Imperial admitting that the Jedi were good? Wow, never thought I'd hear that." Chessa said with a laugh.

"We're not all alike, you know. We're not all zealots. We're not all…" Uster stopped, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer "We're not all blind to what the Empire has done."

Chessa inched her way closer to Uster, a confused look on his face "So, why fight for the Empire then?"

"The Galaxy needs order. The Empire provides it."

"Yeah, and slavery and genocide, can't forget that."

"But that can be changed. What the Empire needs is someone who can control it and not succumb to corruption or cruelty. Someone who will do the right thing." Uster's hands were clenched into fists.

Chessa snorted "Somehow I doubt Palpatine's planning on retiring anytime soon."

"He'll die someday. Someday soon," Uster whispered.

Chessa shot him a curious look "What do you mean by that?"

User shook his head "Nothing. Just that he's an old man."

Chessa was not convinced.

Uster was only dimly aware that Chessa was sitting down beside him.