Selling the shuttle was easy enough in the busy spaceport. The transaction proved useful since it gave Mon ready cash to deliver to her new instructor. She didn't trust Cutter Mills. She knew full well she could be walking into a trap but the chance to train with an Imperial Officer was too valuable to pass by. Mon was tired of playing things safe.

She stuffed the cash into a satchel and scanned the shuttle for any remaining items before the new owner took over.

Mon saw Jeanida's shadow from the doorway and turned to her aid.

"I will pay your passage home."

Jeanida still wore her green cloak.

"I will stay with you."

Mon found it hard not to be swayed from her path by Jeanida's loyalty but she had come too far to turn back.

"The criminal you've done business with said we must not receive any further communications but I have one last message for you."

Jeanida crossed the room and placed a small transmitter on the console. Mon looked at the device with as much disgust as she had the bar tender who came onto her only that morning.

"It's from Bail Organa."

Jeanida left the room.

Mon spent at least five minutes gathering her resolve to watch the message. She nearly walked away without turning it on. It would be so easy to make clean break. To leave the shuttle and never look back at her former life. Somewhere deep in her soul the naive Senator of her past broke through her wall of anger. Mon switched on the message.

Bail Organa's noble image appeared. He still wore the robes of Alderaan. The blue hologram flickered and Organa looked into the distance.

"Senator Mothma, your counselor has informed me of your plans."

Mon frowned. She was angry at Organa for starting the message that way and even angrier at Jeanida for sharing her secrets.

"I have..." he searched for the word, "factions popping up everywhere. They lack unity. They need a voice to guide them. I can't unite them alone."

Organa ran a hand over his chin.

"Mon." She had never heard him address her by her first name. "This is a critical time for our cause." He inhaled deeply and the conviction in his next works shook her to the core. "I know you want to fight, but what we need is your voice."

Mon clicked off the message before she reached the end. She rested her hands on the console and closed her eyes. She felt an inner turmoil tearing her in two. She knew Organa needed her but she was weary of leadership. It wasn't just the need to take some physical action that drove her from the Senate. The continual out pouring of hope, wisdom, and strength drained her until all that was left was anger.

She remembered the look on the face of Beru Lars. The woman desperately needed a reassurance of hope and she looked to Mon for it. Mon was out of hope, wisdom, and now her only strength came from thoughts of punching Emperor Palpatine in his ugly face.

Mon flipped on the holo-recorder. She didn't look directly into it.

"Senator Organa. I received your message."

She fought the urge to lower her head in shame.

"I'm sorry but I can't be what you need. Leadership has proved a burden I can't bear. I sincerely wish you the best of luck. May the force be with you."

She stopped the recording. She hesitated only a moment before she sent the transmission to Alderaan. She took the satchel full of money and exited the shuttle.

Jeanida waited for her on the dock. Her eyes followed Mon with a touch of hope.

Mon wasted no time in crushing her hope.

"I replied to Senator Organa. He is on his own."

Jeanida's face fell. Mon wondered at the wisdom of bringing the aid along. Every day she would face the same look of disappointment. Part of thought it a just penance for her decision. She had fail the galaxy in so many ways. Jeanida would serve as a constant reminder of her failure. A reminder never to let it happen again. No matter the cost.

Mon lifted her hood and lead the way back to bay 94. Cutter waited beside the ship's boarding ramp. Mon lifted the sack of money. He rummaged through it then looked up at her with a grin.

"I'll be a Wookie's uncle. Rich kid is full of surprises." He hoisted the satchel over his shoulder. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd come up with the money."

Mon ignored him and took a step up the ramp. Cutter wrapped his hand around her arm. The action ignited her anger.

"Not so fast. Need to do a search. Don't want any weapons or communications devices on board without my knowledge."

He released his grip. Mon complied by handing him her luggage bag. Jeanida did the same. He tossed out a few of Jeanida's items, which the aid objected to. Jeanida was silenced by a scolding look from the officer.

He finished with the bags and turned to Mon.

"Let's see what you got under the cloak."

"Is this necessary?"

"It's not that I don't trust you," Cutter began, "Actually, it is that I don't trust you."

"The feeling is mutual, I assure you."

Mon's reaction seemed to brighten his expression as if he liked her spirit. She ignored the look and removed the cloak.

His eyes took in her body and he staggered backward.

"Hello gorgeous! Not what I expected at all."

Mon felt her cheeks flush. She knew the outfit was a little tight but she didn't expect such a reaction from a man who probably had his pick of women. The passion in his statement left her breathless, which she reproached herself for.

"Where in the world did you get that beautiful, beautiful blaster?"

Mon's eyes fell to the gun at her side. Her cheeks flushed again, this time with embarrassment for her misunderstanding.

"The market."

Cutter tilted his head to the side.

"Someone took pity on you then, Carrots, because that is a grade-A-one-of-a-kind weapon you've got there. I'm happy to allow it on board."

He held out his hand.

"Under lock and key of course."

Mon shook off her embarrassment.

"The gun stays with me or we don't board."

Cutter looked toward the sky and shook his head.

"This is why women are not worth the trouble." He brought his eyes back to hers. "Keep it, then. Probably don't know how to use it anyway."

Mon lifted her chin, proud of winning at least one argument. Cutter turned his attention to Jeanida. The robes beneath her cloak where traditional and Cutter gave her a quick pat down. He discovered another communication device hidden within. He tossed it away.

Mon lifted her eyebrow in surprise. Hiding the transmitter seemed like a bold move for the aid.

"If you can live dangerously so can I." Jeanida said.

"You two are slipperier than wet Mon Calamari." Cutter gestured toward the ship. "Get on board before I change my mind."

Mon and Jeanida had little interaction with the Imperial Officer or his droid for most of the journey. It wasn't until they came out of hyper-drive near Yavin that Mon made her way to the bridge. Jeanida followed her lead. The aid seemed eager not to let Mon out of her sight.

They watched in silence as Yavin and its moons appeared in the window. Cutter swung around in the pilot seat.

"Now ladies," he began. He put his boots on the edge of the console and crossed one over the other. "I'll be taking you to my secret base. The location of which if I tell you I will have to kill you. You can see my dilemma."

The officer had a habit of circling the point before making it. Mon hated to waste time. She had wasted so much already.

"You want some assurance we won't give you away?"

He put his hands behind his head.

"Need to make sure your pretty lips stay sealed."

The comment was offhanded so Mon decided to ignore the compliment about her appearance. She was annoyed at herself for giving it a second thought. It was almost as if she cared if he thought she was pretty but she had trained herself to make that an impossibility.

"What did you have in mind?" Jeanida asked.

Cutter grinned. He lifted a black cloth and let it unravel down his arm.

"You must be joking." Mon kept her eyes on the blindfold.

"Usually, but 'fraid not this time. C-J?"

The droid took the blindfolds and stood behind Mon.

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Jeanida said just before Mon's sight went dark.

The next thing she saw was the enormous open space inside some ancient temple. The space was filled with hundreds of crates, two X-Wings, another cargo ship and several smaller land speeders.

"Home sweet home," Cutter said. He lead them along the corridor that overlooked the storage bay.

Mon guessed they were on one of the moons of Yavin. The ancient temple had long ago been abandoned by the natives. From the size of Cutter's operation Mon suspected he had several business partners. She hoped she hadn't gotten in over her head.

He opened a door to a small compartment complete with a cot and sink.

"It ain't the Governor's Palace, but it's the best I've got."

Mon met his eyes.

"It's fine," she lied. The realization hit her that she would be roughing it for a while. Living the life of a Senator made her used to luxuries most of the Galaxy never experienced. She supposed living like the other half for a while would be good for her.

Cutter took Jeanida to the compartment just across the hall.

"Get some rest. We'll start tomorrow. Bring that blaster of yours."

Mon tossed all night. Nightmarish images of Kashyyk plagued mind. Her stomach sank when flashes of Palpatine's sinister sneer swallowed her dreams. In her soul she knew his evil ran deeper than any of them comprehended. She was relieved when morning arrived.

She splashed cold water on her face and wondered if the ancient temple had a place to take a proper shower. She left her compartment without a word to Jeanida. On her way to the main bay she passed a small but fully equipped wash room and made a note to return later. Part of her rejoiced at the thought of a warm bath. Sand still stuck to her from Tatooine made every inch of her skin crawl.

When she came upon Cutter he was sitting on a tall tool chest. His feet rested on the table and between them was a map. He leaned his elbows on his knees as he studied the map. He looked up at her and took the last bit of an apple.

"Yikes, Carrots. You don't look like a morning person."

In truth Mon liked mornings but her lack of sleep and left over grit must have shown in her appearance.

"You could have pointed out the showers."

Cutter hopped down from the table. He folded the map before she could see what it was and tossed the apple core over his shoulder. She followed the core until in landed on the temple floor. She gave him a look. He rolled his eyes.

"C-J, apparently the lady doesn't like litter. Will you clean that up?"

The droid obeyed but not without comment.

"Next I suppose we'll be installing new drapery."

The sassy robot caught her by surprise again. She hid a grin.

"Alright, Carrots," Cutter slapped his hands together. "You want to fly a ship. What kind of ship?"

X-Wing. She knew the chosen ship of the resistance if there was to be a resistance. X-Wings were older but the Empire paid them no heed since they didn't sense a threat. The new ships, TIE Fighters, were harder to come by. Mon knew her answer but didn't want to give away too much about her plans.

"Aren't they all the same?"

Cutter scoffed and looked offended.

"This is gonna be harder than I thought."

He latched onto her arm and took her on a stroll down the bay.

"You've got your standard cargo ships. These have been modified with weapons." He moved to the land speeders.

"You've got your single carrier vessels, useful for tight spots, and also equipped with guns."

He reached the rusted old X-Wings.

"Then you got your fighter ships. These are old school, nothing like the fighters now, but they get the job done when they work."

He kicked the landing gear of the nearest one. He let go of Mon's arm. She looked up at the ship.

"That is what I want to fly."

Cutter narrowed his eyes at her.

"That exact ship?"

She lifted her chin.

"An X-Wing? You're sure."

"Yes," she snapped.

Cutter's expression turned pleased as if he caught her in some confession. The outburst might have given him an inkling that she had already decided on a ship but nothing more.

"Mind if I ask why?"

Mon slipped on her Senatorial mask of neutrality.

"I do."

Cutter studied her for a minute then the familiar carefree smile returned to his face.

"You got gumption, Carrots. I give you that." He inhaled. "Might as well get started."

Mon moved toward the ship.

"Oh no. We're not even close to ready for that."

He turned and lead her away from the storage bay. They went outside. For the first time Mon realized they were deep in the heart of some ancient jungle. He walked across the clearing. In the distance she saw some rusted barrels and cans piled in the shape of a person or droid.

"Before you learn to fly let's get the concept of shooting under control."

Mon gave him a sidelong look.

"You just want to get your hands on my blaster."

The words slipped out. Mon never joked. She felt as surprised as Cutter looked. After a moment he chuckled.

"Guilty."

She realized then how the uncharacteristic Imperial Officer made her feel uncharacteristic. Senator Mothma was cool, calculating and compassionate. This new person, this warrior she felt coming to life inside was bold, energetic and unpredictable.

She pulled the recently purchased gun from her side and handed it to the officer.

He turned it over in his hands a few times then stopped and fired it. He hit the top can. The head of the imaginary figure flew off into the undergrowth.

"Can't believe you found this in Mos Eisley." Cutter handed the gun back. "You can grip it with both hands if you want until you get used to the kick back."

Mon wrapped her fingers around the handle. Cutter moved behind her and guided her other hand around the weapon.

"Keep both eyes open as you aim. Don't depend too much on the gun sights, especially if your target is moving, which it most likely will be."

She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. The sensation made it hard to focus on what he was saying. Instead of reprimanding herself like she usually did she tempted fate and welcomed the innocent flirtation. It would go nowhere and she desperately needed the distraction from her rain cloud of worries.

"Lift your elbow." He gently touched her arm and she obeyed. "Fire."

Mon hit the target square in the large barrel of its chest. She sent up a silent thank you to her father for the lessons.

Cutter let go of her. She met his eyes which told her he was impressed.

"There may be hope for you yet, Carrots."

He touched her chin with his index finger. Whether he meant anything by the gesture Mon's alarm bells finally triggered. Apparently the proper and honorable Mon Mothma hadn't totally vanished. She took a step back.

"I appreciate the lessons but don't think for a moment I am," Mon searched for the right word, "available." She gave him her coldest glare, one to rival the glaciers of Hoth. "I'm not."

Cutter's genial expression vanished quickly. For the first time she saw anger. It was then he truly looked like an Imperial Officer. She made a note to remember that look each time he turned on his charm. The charm she found herself susceptible to.

"You flatter yourself. Spoiled, rich brats aren't my type."

He walked away.

"What about the lesson?" She called after him.

He kept walking but lifted his arm.

"Practice."

The next few weeks were filled with nothing but practice. Cutter set up several obstacle courses complete with moving targets. He refused to teach Mon the next lesson until she perfectly completed each previous course. Just as she was beginning to think she would never see the inside of an X-Wing, Cutter surprised her.

Instead of taking her to another course in the jungle, they entered the temple and stopped in front of the ship. The cockpit cover was open. Cutter pulled over the step ladder.

"Climb aboard."

Mon fought hard to suppress her excitement. She stepped up the ladder and jumped into the pilot seat. Cutter followed her up the stairs. He rested on arm on the hull and leaned over as he pointed out different controls.

Mon gripped the double pronged steering column with both hands. A rush of adrenaline shot through her. Only a few weeks ago she stood beside Bail Organa and Jeanida Bey in the Senate chamber. The chamber was vast, cold and lifeless compared to the tight, intimate insides of the ship.

She only picked up half of what Cutter was saying.

"...so you won't run out of firepower. That's the good part about X-Wings. The bad part is they can't take a hit. You get hit anywhere and chances are you're toast."

Mon nodded. If she went down in the ship or not, it really didn't matter to her, so long as she took a dozen Imperial ships with her. She heard beeping from below the engine and peered over the hull. A red striped droid rolled up.

"I picked up some old R-2 units a few years ago. This one will help navigate and maintain the ships systems."

Cutter removed his arm from the hull.

"So, you ready to take her for a spin?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

He grinned. She hated to admit that the better she got to know him the more that lazy, mischievous smile appealed to her.

"Let me just load up the two droids and we'll be off."

"We?"

"No way I'm letting you lose without a chaperon. No telling what trouble you'd get yourself into."

Cutter climbed down the ladder. Mon contemplated his comment. There seemed to be another meaning in his word. For the first time she considered the possibility he did know of her plans. That lead her to a more important consideration. If he did find out she wished to destroy the Empire would he turn her in?

She kept the question in the back of her mind as she listened to his chatter over the helmet com. The orange of the visor changed the hue of clouds and earth but brought everything into sharper view once they entered space. For the first time in weeks she got her bearings. Cutter's secret base was on the fourth moon of Yavin. She took it as a good sign that he trusted her enough now to bring her in on their location.

The piloting controls of the X-Wing gave her trouble. The only ships she had driven, transport ships, were much tighter and had a weight that kept them stable. The X-Wing was light, and the controls were sensitive. She had difficulty steadying the ship.

"Carrots, were going to try some basic maneuvers. Follow me."

Cutter took his X-Wing toward the planet's surface. He made a sharp right turn and shot toward one of the moons. Mon followed though with half the grace and none of the style of the hot shot pilot. She smiled to herself. He really was impressive in flight.

Mon's X-Wing training went on for several more weeks. Cutter refused to let Mon try the weapons controls in space afraid that even training fire might draw unwanted attention from the Empire or space pirates. The new flight experience combined with her training as a ground soldier boosted her confidence enough for her to make plans.

One raining evening, after a successful space run, Mon returned from the showers to find Jeanida reading a book in her compartment. The aid had made herself scare the last few weeks mainly occupying her time with helping C-J7 repair land speeders and keep the temple clean.

She even took on laundry duty which Cutter's entire wardrobe, save his Imperial uniform, was in desperate need of. Mon felt a little guilty for ignoring her so she didn't usher Jeanida immediately out of the room. She shut the door behind her and used a towel to dry the water from her hair.

"How is your training proceeding?" Jeanida closed her book.

Mon sat on the other end of the cot.

"Well."

The aid forced a smile though Mon could tell she wasn't truly happy to hear it. Mon made a decision. For the first time since leaving the Senate she let Jeanida into her confidence.

"In fact, I have made plans." She lowered her voice.

"Plans?"

"It's only a matter of time before Cutter is called back on duty. He will have the coordinates for docking with his Star Destroyer."

Mon watched as Jeanida's mind worked to sort out the implications.

"You can't seriously be thinking about attacking a Star Destroyer?"

Mon folded the towel in her lap.

Jeanida moved to the edge of the cot.

"You plan to use your officer to do this? I thought you were friends."

Mon snapped her head up. She gave Jeanida a hard glare.

"I am no friend of the Empire."

Jeanida's eyes softened even under Mon's sharp ones. She reached out but stopped short of touching Mon's hand.

"Mon," the understanding in her voice was irritating. "He's not exactly your traditional soldier. I didn't like him at first but I suspect there is a good soul in there."

The aid tried to get Mon to look at her but Mon avoided her eyes.

"I thought, perhaps, you might even become more than friends."

Jeanida admission caused Mon to let out a gasp somewhere between laughter and astonishment. She finally did look at the older woman. Mon had to admit there was a certain amount of chemistry between her and the officer so she couldn't dismiss Jeanida outright.

"That won't happen for me. I've always known my life, whatever it brings, will be a lonely one."

Mon felt a little melancholy but she resigned herself to such things a long time ago. When she found tears in the eyes of her aid she was truly surprised. Jeanida touched hand.

"It doesn't have to be that way."

Mon's heart softened over the last few weeks. She didn't mind so much the efforts of Jeanida to comfort her.

"The Star Destroyer will fall even I have to give my last breath. Someone must show the Empire, the galaxy, that freedom still has a chance and that there are those willing to sacrifice everything for it."

Jeanida withdrew her hand. Her brow wrinkled.

"You've always been stalwart and wise. They need you to lead them not to die a soldier's death."

Mon started to answer but a knock at the door interrupted them.

"It's open," Mon said, glad for the break in the conversation.

Cutter stuck his head inside.

"Carrots, Aunt J, I have some friends I want you to meet."

Mon exchanged a look with her aid. She could see her own trepidation reflected in Jeanida's eyes. More people meant more chances to be recognized. They followed Cutter to the bay. Mon saw two new ships parked inside. One large cargo ship and a standard Sullustan vessel complete with two weapons cockpits.

Cutter approached a group of three others who all talked quietly between themselves until she arrived. The shorter male was immediately recognizable as Sullustan.

"Guys and lady, this is Carrots I was telling you about, and her aunt Jeanida."

Cutter turned back to Mon.

"Carrots, meet Matches," Cutter gestured toward the five foot two Sullustan. He then moved to the tall human man in the center. "Hunt."

The last introduced was a beautiful female Tholothian. Her dark skin was luminescent. Even the small scar just above her lip couldn't detract from her beauty. Mon took an instant dislike to her.

"And Riggs."

The woman inclined her head. Mon forced a polite smile.

"She's too skinny," the one called Hunt said to Cutter.

"If she's a good pilot what does that matter?" The Tholothian replied.

Hunt looked at Riggs. Something in his eyes lead Mon to think they were together. She didn't dislike the woman so much after that revelation.

"I want to make sure someone's got our backs if something happens."

Mon frowned and turned to Cutter for explanation. He ignored her.

"She's a good pilot, not great, but she'll get the job done," Cutter told his friends.

Matches muttered something in Sullustian but he talked too quickly for Mon to pick up on all of it.

"She is ace with a blaster, and what a blaster!" Cutter reassured Matches.

"It appears I haven't been privy to certain information." Mon sounded so much like a Senator that the four of them and Jeanida all looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and reverence.

"She's got an attitude. I like her," Riggs said with a wink at Mon.

Cutter looked at Mon the longest and with the most troubled expression. He seemed to push passed his hesitation.

"We want to make a smuggling run. We need another pilot to pull it off."

He took her to the map he hid from her the first day she arrived.

"A shipment headed for Tatooine to a gangster called Jabba the Hutt."

The mention of a Hutt immediately turned Mon off the cause.

"No."

All of them looked at her once again. They turned less than pleased eyes on Cutter.

"Carrots, you don't understand. This cargo transport is a gold mine. Food delicacies that would fetch a fortune on the black market, bullion from three different systems, not to mention the rumors of a shipment jewels from Dathomir."

She could see the lust in the eyes of Cutter's friends as he spoke but she had all the material wealth she wanted. Although making sure such wealth didn't end up in the hands of a gangster was a nice thought she wasn't convinced it would be better off in the hands of Cutter and his friends.

"Still, I remain unmoved."

Matches threw up his hands in obvious frustration. Cutter refused to give up.

"Look, Carrots, you do this and I will waive the rest of your training fee. The loot on that ship is worth a thousand times what you owe me."

Mon wanted to say, that's what I'm afraid of but she held her tongue.

"Cutter, looks like your rich girlfriend has morals," Hunt said. He draped an arm over Riggs' shoulder. The woman folded her arms.

"Hunt is right. I think we're going about this the wrong way." Riggs stepped toward Mon.

Mon wasn't used to facing women directly since she was taller than most females she encountered. Riggs stood about eye level and seemed just as self assured as Mon. Part of Mon felt a kinship with the woman because of their similarities.

"You know what else is on that ship, Carrots?" She asked.

Mon was less than pleased that Cutter taught all of his friends to call her by the nickname.

"The Hutts have a taste for the salve girls of Twi'lek. They go through them like kindling. We know there are at least ten on board, maybe more."

Riggs just changed the game. Mon glared at her and looked over the rag-tag group. It was crazy for her to trust any of them, and yet, she felt closer to them than she had to any individuals in such a long time. She turned to Jeanida. The aid's eyes for the first time did not show disapproval. Mon sighed.

"Because I treasure freedom I will join you."

Hunt and Cutter exchanged high fives. The Sullustan laughed, one of the most contagious sounds in the galaxy.

Cutter lifted his eyebrows at Mon.

"Let's go free some slave girls."