Hey everyone, a bit of a light chapter, but it's setting up for some bigger stuff. Enjoy, and leave a review!

Chapter 3: Celebrations and Casualties

The darkness of space was beautiful, in its own way. Or so Lieutenant Bryndon Kage believed. Kage looked over from the copilot's seat to the pilot, a cheerful ensign. He couldn't remember the man's name for the life of him, but Bryndon ignored that slightly inconvenient fact.

"Ensign, ETA to Emperor's Task?" He asked.

The ensign replied after checking his boards. "Five minutes, Lieutenant Kage." He paused a moment. "You seem worried, Sir. Is everything all right?"

"Nonsense, Ensign. Relax." The truth was, he was worried. In the year since the Emperor's death, his commander had been increasingly erratic. One of the famed Emperor's Hands, the Task stood as a memory to Palpatine's legacy and his unending reach. As it came into view of the front transparisteel port, he felt a cool shudder run across him. An Imperial-II-class Star Destroyer was no laughing matter. The twin black stripes that ran across the length of the ship proclaimed it as home to one of the many branches of the famed Black Squadron. This one, Abyss Wing, was an excellent unit. The military side of the Task had been exemplary. It was the other units, the operatives, that were suspect.

As the shuttle was towed into the hangar bay of the Task, Kage found himself drumming his fingers. His personal comm sounded once the shuttle had landed. He hated that. "Kage," He said, and he knew who was on the other end.

Sera Falis sat on the large flowform couch in her quarters. Sprawled out, she let herself become enraptured by the mild dose of painkillers she had taken. Kage would be coming soon. The painkillers would help with the inevitable headache that came with dealing with the Intelligence operative.

Sera had been an Emperor's Hand, one of his highest operatives. The Force had been with her, and Palpatine had instructed her in the ways of the Dark Side. However, his death had left her without a master. No new Emperor had risen. Well, no one that could be taken seriously. So, she stayed on the Outer Rim, and she sought to consolidate her power so that she might be able to bring it to whoever she deemed worthy of her service.

A chime sounded, and she drew on the Force to clear her mind. "Enter," She knew it was Kage without even calling on the Force. He was an unimpressive ma. Utterly bland, with a oft-broken nose and a beard unbecoming of a member of Imperial Intelligence. He wore one of those Corellian vests that smugglers seemed to prefer.

"Lieutenant Kage, reporting as ordered, Madam." His voice was low, rough, and echoed throughout her quarters. They were rather bland, besides the flowform furniture and vidscreen. In one corner was a meditation sphere, and her simple bunk in another. In fact, the only real decoration was the shelves of alcohol from various worlds. She had a bottle of Corellian whiskey in front of her, with a ice-filled tumbler next to it.

"Excellent, thank you for reporting so expediently, Kage." She poured some of the whiskey out. It wasn't Whyren's Reserve. She'd never sully that with ice. It was a much cheaper brand, so she didn't feel bad about letting it chill. "I would like to hear your report on what happened to the convoy."

"Rebel scum," He said. He lacked the fine accent that many Imperial officers carried, so the phrase didn't have the unique distaste that she so loved. "We lost four Star Wings trying to defend the convoy."

"Four Star Wings?" She sighed, and then took a long sip of the whiskey. "So you are saying that we are without our resupply?"

Kage frowned. "Yes, Madam."

Sera glared at him. She set the glass down, then continued. "Who were the attackers? Sure we have some data."

"Indeed," He said. "Transmissions received indicate that it was a cruiser, the Vigilance, and assorted fighters and light craft."

"I thought that the Vigilance was a non-threat, Lieutenant. Chal Galia was deemed too cautious, a coward in fact."

Kage swallowed, and she could feel his fear. "The Vigilance did not engage the freighters. It was its fighters, Y-Wings."

"Are you telling me that a wing of Y-Wings took down four Star Wings and an entire convoy? Who was manning those guns?"

"Madam, it was six Y-Wings."

Sera had heard enough. She rose from her seat, and lifted a hand. She applied a force choke to the Lieutenant, and held. She didn't stop until his face was purple and he was most assuredly dead. She downed the rest of her whiskey, then commed the guards outside her room. They entered, saw the scene, and removed Kage's body. Time to find a new head for her Intelligence operatives.

The officer's lounge of the Vigilance was filled with loud, raucous celebrations. Kal Korros and the rest of the Banthas were sitting at one of the corner booths of the bar. They all had large tankards of ale in front of them, some swill that one of the engineering crew brewed. It tasted like crap, but it did the job just fine.

"So," Commander Tarth behan. "We have something to settle. "We have our rookie's first kills to celebrate! With two Star Wings to his name, we have Mister Kal Korros!" The Banthas made various sounds of congratulation. "The Rebllion's in good hands with a Y-Wing pilot who can shoot down superiority pilots."

Kossf offered his own encouragement. "Scorekeeper will be pleased, Kal. You are good hunt leader."

"Yea, where'd they dig you up, farm boy?" Nalen asked. "I mean, I'm an Academy washout at least."

Kal shook his head. "Nothing so fancy. I did flying for my family's hauler and the T-16." He shrugged. "I'm from a backwater, but we heard about Endor same as everyone. I sold my speeder for a ticket off world and joined up."

"That's so sweet I think I'm going to throw up." Tarth made a mock gagging noise. He smirked at Kal. "But hey, you did good work out there. And that work with the concussion missile was some fancy flying. Never seen anything like that."

"Physics." He shrugged. "A few pilots in Starfighter Command training figured it out. Pretty handy?"

"It's good." Surr said. "I'm forwarding it on for Y-Wing units to try in training. We fly with support a lot, so if we can save a few concussion missile hits that way, that would be good."

Silda smirked. "However, farm boy here is forgetting something." She took a swig from the ale. "He's buying us Corellian brandy tonight." The dark-haired woman stood, and she strutted towards the makeshift bar. Kal found himself walking away, which drew chuckles from the assembled Banthas.

"Careful, little hunter," Kossf chided. "She will rip out your throat, and use your bunk as a nesting ground."

Sien chuckled at that. "She's Hapan, Kid. She'll eat you for breakfast."

"Besides," Nalen added. "Sex is rough on those bunks. You'll end up with your exhaust hitting something and having to ice it."

Kal sighed as he looked over at Silda before looking back at his fellow pilots. "I am not that brave a man." He said as he pulled out his credit chips. He got up and headed over to the bar, where Silda was picking out a cask of the best brandy the officer's lounge had. "Making me blow my entire first pay voucher, are you?"

"Oh, don't worry, we'll go easy on you. After you've earned your ace's stripes." Silda smiled at Kal. "Hey, you got two in a Y-Wing. Just...eight more to go." Her smile grew to that Nexu's grin that he had learned to fear. "Speaking of which, good flying today. Really."

Kal smiled, his a bit softer. "Thanks. So, what's up with the Vig not supporting us? Seems like Galia was more interested in covering the exit vectors."

"Chal Galia is a coward. Got the Vigilance because he's someone's brother or something. Sometimes the Rebellion isn't entirely as ideal as we like it to be."

"So what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, his tone less joking than he had intended. "I mean, aren't Hapans sort of isolationists?"

"Most are." She smiled a little. "But as matriarchal as life can be in the Consortium, family politics among nobles can become a prison. Most men, to avoid all that, turn to piracy. I tried that, but I was, well..." She sighed. "Have you ever felt a lack of purpose in your life? Like you did not know what you wanted to do with your life?"

Kal nodded. "Yea, that's what the entirety of growing up on a farm is like." He gestured to the bartender, and ordered a pair of Baradium Bombs. When the drinks came, he pushed one of the shot glasses in front of Silda. "Come on, let's drink so we can forget that we're stuck in the middle of nowhere flying bombers with no fighter support."

There was a distinct lack of bed when Kal woke up. There was also a distinct headache. He took stock of his situation. He was on the deck of his quarters. He was thankfully not in a pool of vomit. He was, however, hung over. Something prodded into his back.

"Go away, I'm going to become one with the Booze Force." Kal grumbled. "Why am I not in my bunk?"

Silda's voice was right in his ear. Way too loud. "You couldn't climb up to your bunk. You hold your liquor well. Until the fifth Baradium bomb." She chuckled, and he felt her step on his back as she crossed the room to the 'fresher. "Thanks for last night, though. The Banthas...we haven't celebrated like that in a while."

Kal collected himself enough to reply. He dare not open his eyes. He could feel the lights still on. "Haven't had too much success?"

"Too many deaths, too many failures." The sanisteam turned on, and while he could hear it warming up, she added. "We may just get off this stanging ship yet. Word is, General Salm got word of your little maneuver."

"Horton stanging Salm?" He opened his eyes. Damn the lights. He looked towards the 'fresher. "What?"

"Yea, wants to make a holocom to congratulate that stunt. And to give us our new mission."

Well, time to work on a hangover cure. Fast.

Chapter 4: Inside the Widow's Head