Star Wars: Odyssey of the Infinity

by IX404

During a routine safety test, the Slipstream Space Drive of the Infinity malfunctions, catapulting them into unknown space. Little do Lasky and the members of the Infinity know is that they will soon change the fate of a far away galaxy.

17. Politics, Smugglers & Jedi

Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to my Halo/Star Wars redux.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have returned. Having looked at a walkthrough of Jedi Survivor, I and my beta-readers have decided that it's time to continue with the main story. Thank you all for your wonderful patience and support. I hope all of you enjoyed the short stories that we posted as well.

In this chapter, we're going to be seeing a tribute to one the films and books that I have thoroughly enjoyed reading and watching. For those of you that have seen the Hunt for Red October, and read Tom Clancy's novel of the same name, then this chapter's should be an excellent treat for you.

As always, leave a review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo or Star Wars franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Studios, 343 Industries, Bungie, Lucasfilm, 20th Century Fox, Disney Films, etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers, producers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artists.

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UEG Embassy

Pantora City, Pantora

July 17th, 0BBY, 1130 Hrs (February 24th, 2559)

"Now it's onto the next set of authorization forms for the mines," Veronica's assistant muttered. "Damn. You'd think the Pantorans would be grateful enough to remove most of the red tape. Apparently, that was a foolish hope on my part."

Veronica nodded in agreement. There's so much paperwork here that you could choke an elephant to death with it. Still, we've gotten through half of the paperwork for today in just a few hours. "I know the feeling," she said aloud. "It's not as bad as back home, if I'm going to be honest."

Her assistant looked at her as though she'd grown another head. "Really?!"

"Yes, really. Back home, you'd be lucky to have the paperwork done before closing hours, and that's on a relatively good day. Here, I can have all of this paperwork done by three o'clock in the afternoon, which leaves enough time to go get a nice dinner and a very light drink."

"I see," her assistant said. Checking the time, he said, "I should probably liberate your desk of that paperwork and deliver it to whomever it needs to go to."

"Please do," Veronica said. She sighed, letting her arms rest on the desk once it was all cleared off. After a brief moment, she resumed getting the work done.

She looked at the papers that her assistant had placed on her desk. At least the Pantorans allowed us to set up a few jointly owned mines on the planet, she thought. It took them nearly two days to agree on the matter, though. If it weren't for the fact that the Pantoran economy is currently in the middle of a depression, they'd have taken at least a month.

The thought only reminded her of the tense political situation present in the system. Having been attacked twice by pirates due to the UNSC's involvement, some of the Assembly's politicians had become rather conservative when it came to their dealings with the UNSC. I can't blame them, Veronica thought. Once turned, twice cautious, or rather twice burned, four times cautious in this case. Had I been in their position, I might've been just as… slow to act.

Things, she had learned, were different on the military side of things. For the most part, the Pantorans seem quite happy to have the UNSC around. Fleet Admiral Harper's set up a joint training program that should help their militia handle local affairs in a more expedient manner.

She looked at another piece of paper that was on the table. She frowned at the contents, then keyed her desk's personal HoloCOM. Her assistant's hologram appeared almost instantly. "Yes?" he asked.

"Jones, are we scheduled to be signing a 4D8-JR5 form?"

"One sec," the now named Jones said. Looking at his dapatad, he said, "Ah… yes, actually. That form is the one that will allow the construction fleet to make preparations to construct a space elevator. Why?"

Veronica shrugged. "Just curious is all," she said. "I'm surprised that the form is even on my desk in the first place. As far as I know, the Pantoran Assembly hasn't even gotten word of this, unless it's only begun just today."

"Probably," Jones said. "I'd better get back to it, ma'am. The sooner I deliver these forms, the sooner we can get some of the things needed for the UNSC to get settled in done."

"Of course. Sorry to bother you."

Her assistant waved a hand dismissively. "No need, ma'am. You're doing your job, and I'm doing mine. Never apologize for that. See you at lunch break." His hologram quickly faded out.

No sooner had it done so than another call began coming in. Keying it, Veronica was surprised to see Riyo's hologram appear. "Chairman Riyo, what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could speak with you about something," Riyo said.

"Of course. What do you need?"

"I recently heard that the UNSC tends to employ space bridges to move large numbers of goods and personnel from ships to the surface," Riyo said. "There are those of us that believe that the construction of a space elevator would not only waste space that might be used for something more useful, but would also pose a danger to civilians if the elevator was damaged or severed from the ground or station. If I recall correctly, something like that happened during the Covenant-UNSC War roughly nine years ago."

Veronica sighed. She is right, she thought. I remember when the space elevator connecting New Mombasa to the shipyards and space station in orbit snapped. The centripetal force of Earth's rotation ended up flinging the entire contraption into space. "That did happen, though that was due to the extraordinary circumstances that happened at the time. Space Elevators were not designed to withstand the stresses generated by a ship entering Slipspace while in atmosphere. Very few things are, and they are quite costly and expensive. However, we have armored them to where even a turbolaser blast won't sever them immediately."

"Understandable," Riyo said. "Some members of the Assembly, though, want assurances that the elevator won't snap or be damaged, though some of the demands are quite… unreasonable."

"Well, they can discuss them with the engineers that build those space elevators," Veronica grumbled. "That's their field of expertise, not mine. I'm just the person that authorizes the construction of those tethers, with the approval of the Assembly, of course."

"Of course. That's not the reason why I called, though. I called because there are some that are worried that the UNSC might use the joint training exercises as an excuse to begin assimilating the Pantorans into the UEG. As such, they're requesting that the joint exercises be called off."

Veronica was aghast. "Why would they think that!? We're not trying to assimilate them, we're trying to help them protect themselves! What, do they want the pirates to run roughshod over them?!"

"That was my reaction as well," Riyo said. "Unfortunately, they want Pantora to remain independent of any 'outside influence'. They've recently formed what has rapidly become known as the 'Independent' Party, and they're demanding that the UNSC stop 'interfering with local affairs.' They even asked to have all Pantoran crews on the Orbital Defense Platforms, and that's after they had a representative selected for Pantora Orbital Defense Command!"

Veronica shook her head in disbelief. "They would rather have us retract our protection in order to have their independence. I admit that I can understand why they want independence, but the way they're going about it is quite dumb, to say the least. If it wasn't for us, the pirates would run roughshod over all of you. Plus, there is no way that we'll just hand control of the ODPs to them, and they don't have the training for the ODPs."

"That's exactly what I told them," Riyo said. "Unfortunately, they weren't willing to listen, so now they're raising a ruckus about it."

"I hope no one else is listening to their rhetoric."

"Fortunately, they've attracted few followers," Riyo said. "However, they have enough influence that they've stalled some of the bills that we've been moving through on the pretense that they are in favor of the 'militant UNSC overlords.' I can get them moving again, but if there's one thing that I suspect, it's that the pirates and slavers might try to use them as another means of claiming Pantora for themselves."

"Are you certain?" Veronica asked. "If that's the case, then we have to act fast to stomp onto the movement. Otherwise, we'll have an attempted coup on our hands."

"At the moment, I don't have any concrete evidence," Riyo admitted. "It does, however, feel strange for them to pop up so suddenly in the Assembly and have that much influence."

"So you're asking if we could investigate on your behalf?"

"Something like that," Riyo said. "I've got a few people investigating them to see if they're getting outside support from the Empire or the pirates, but at this moment, we have no evidence to suggest that anything untoward is happening. It could be that it's just a local grassroots organization taking advantage of the chaos that the attempted coup and second pirate attack created."

"Possibly," Veronica said. "I'll speak with my superiors on the matter at a later time. For now, I've got a lot of work to do, and not too much time to do it."

"All right, then," Riyo said. "I will leave you to your business. Have a pleasant day."

"You too," Veronica said. When the hologram faded, she buried her head in her hands. Of all the things to happen, this does, she thought. Jones was right; it's a wonder that the Pantorans have gotten anything done, what with all of the new internal divisions that are happening. It's up to men and women like me to handle those affairs without causing another mess…

She was so deep into her work that, by the time she began thinking of going onto her lunch break, she had all but forgotten about what Riyo had told her. The moment she looked at the clock, though, she immediately remembered. Walking back to her desk, she said, "Andrew, are you there?"

The holographic image of a US Senator from the mid 1920's appeared over her desk. "Yes," he said. "What do you need?"

"I need you to get into contact with Fleet Admiral Harper when you can. I've got something to tell him. Ensure that the link is secure. We shouldn't be overheard; the techs swept the room for bugs before work began."

"Understood," Andrew said. "I've just sent him your message to request a short meeting via encrypted HoloCOM channels. He's informed me that he will be speaking to you in ten minutes."

"Good," Veronica said. "The sooner we can find out what the Independent Party is up to, the sooner we can determine if it's a pirate front, or if it's just another grassroots movement headed by idiots."

"Understood."

A response wasn't long in coming. A chirrup from Veronica's HoloCOM caller indicated someone was calling her on an encrypted channel. Opening it, Veronica watched as Fleet Admiral Harper appeared on the COM. "I just received a message indicating that we've got another potential movement by the pirates on Pantora, correct?"

"Yes," Veronica said. "I've gotten word that another party, known as the 'Independent Party,' isn't taking kindly to our activities here. They're demanding that we stop interfering in local affairs and allow the Pantorans to rule themselves. Apparently, they're thinking that we're becoming overlords directing their every affair."

Harper shook his head. "Either they're being funded by someone that doesn't like the UNSC, or they're being incredibly idiotic. If it wasn't for us, the Pantorans would be under the thumb of a pirate kingdom."

"That's what Riyo told them," Veronica said. "Apparently, they didn't get the message, as they're demanding that we leave Pantora. They've even filibustered a few bills just to get their way. Riyo suspects that the pirates and slavers might be giving them the funding needed to get their point across."

"Sounds like it," Harper said. "Normally, I wouldn't involve the UNSC into politics in a heavy way, but given that we were attacked twice by pirates that refused to let the matter drop, I'll see what I can do. ONI can investigate them to their hearts delight. If they really are working with the pirates, then we have to keep a close eye on them. If not, then we'll do what we can to conventionally cause them to fizzle out."

"OK," Veronica said. "Fortunately, the public doesn't seem to be listening to their cause. Only a few Senators have joined their ranks, and even then, I suspect it's for reasons other than wanting an independent Pantora. I'll inform of you any updates that the Chairman sends our way."

"Please do," Harper said. "Something like this can be the precursor for a huge amount of trouble. Have a wonderful day, ma'am."

"You too," Veronica said. Once Harper's hologram faded, she sighed. That's one problem solved, she thought. Now it's on to the other problems. With any luck, they won't involve anything out of the ordinary.

. . .

Approaching the Pantora system was another person that was more concerned with the cargo he was transporting than simple things such as paperwork. If anything happens to it, then I'm screwed, he thought. They didn't really tell me what I was hauling, just that it was dangerous cargo and to mind my own business.

He shrugged. Oh well… I need the money if I'm going to pay off all those debts to the Hutts that I owe. If it involves shipping illegal cargo to Pantora, then no worries. I've got all the stuff I need to handle something like this. Besides, you never want to poke into your employer's business. It never ends well.

A beeping from his console snapped him out of his idle reverie. Almost there, he thought. Once I drop the cargo off, I'm going to get laid at the Pantora Shantyhouse. Not a bad spot. Reaching over, he flipped a lever on the control panel before him.

The foggy blue sight of hyperspace quickly shifted, with the view before him turning into the familiar blackness of space. Stars emerged first as streaks of light, before resolving themselves into tiny points of light ahead of him. More importantly, he could see the planet that was his destination. "Pantora, here we come," he muttered with a smile. He eased the throttle forwards.

The engines on the BFF-1 bulk transport he was piloting rumbled in response. The 120 meter long ship began moving forwards, the engines spewing a bright purple plume behind the ship. Destination time, forty minutes, he thought. Should be a cakewalk to get past the local authorities…

The ship was halfway to it's destination when things changed. Hondo was just about to down a mug of recaf when a loud, insistent beeping sound erupted in the cockpit. Startled, he jumped, splattering himself with the aromatic brown liquid. "Spast!" he snarled, tearing off the shirt before the steaming hot liquid could scald him. "I just had this washed!" He continued to grumble as he threw on a white shirt and a dark brown jacket.

Once he was done tending to the recaf induced wardrobe malfunction, he took in a breath, then hit the COM button. Time to go to work. "This is Captain Hendor Rovak of the bulk freighter Rimward Flight. May I know who I am speaking to."

"Rimward Flight, this is Pantora Space Traffic Control," came the reply. "We have you on sensors. State your intentions please."

"Pantora STC, this is Rimward Flight. I was attempting to contact a privately owned spaceport, not a government one. Sending the spaceport name now."

"Rimward Flight, this is Pantora STC. The spaceport in question was shut down due to suspected criminal activity. Would you like to use another spaceport?"

Damnit! Hondo growled. Looks like it's the government spaceport then. "Understood, Pantora STC. I am currently loaded with cargo inbound for the planet. Requesting a berth at the closest available port."

"Understood," Pantora STC said. "Please transmit identification codes."

Hondo smiled. "Transmitting codes now." He pressed a button on the console, then leaned back in his chair. This is too easy, he thought. Nothing like having cleverly forged paperwork and forged ident codes to go wherever you want to go.

. . .

Unbeknownst to Hondo, it wasn't the same Pantora STC that he was accustomed to dealing with. That old STC had been made a division of the new Joint Pantoran Defense Orbital Command that had been set up by UNICOM as part of the Air Force's responsibility. This meant military oversight and, as a result, military standards.

At the Pantora City Spaceport, number STC workers were busy regulating the traffic that was going to and from Pantora. At one console, the controller in question began running the ident codes. Running it through the computer, he frowned at a message that came up. "Boss, can you come see this?"

His boss, an older Pantoran with graying hair, walked over. "Yes?" he asked in a bored voice.

"I'm getting some odd readings from the ident codes sent to us by the Rimward Traveler. Should I run it by the UNSC?"

The older Pantoran frowned. Ever since the Pantoran Assembly had signed the peace treaty with the UNSC, they had allowed the UNSC to begin regulating the traffic that was coming into the system. Among the agreed-upon changes was that, when it came to ships entering the system, the UNSC had the authority to allow that ship through, or to send it away. "Send it to them," he said. "I'd much rather not have any trouble like last time."

The controller nodded, then sent the ident codes to his assigned partner in the UNSC. "Codes sent. Hopefully, this is just a coincidence."

"Hopefully."

. . .

Onboard the UNSC Infinity, Lieutenant Murphy was busy handling a number of incoming flights to the Infinity. Hard work, but I'd wouldn't want it any other way, he thought. Working on the Infinity's been a dream job, even if it does mean long hours punctuated by moments of sheer terror.

He was about to finish up for lunch break when he heard a beeping sound. Keying his console, he quickly spotted a long series of numbers and letters. Looks like ident codes, he thought. Better run this by Roland. "Roland, are you there?"

"I'm here," Roland said. "What's the hold-up?"

"I'm getting ident codes from controllers at the Joint Pantoran Orbital Defense Command. According to them, there are some odd discrepancies with the codes. You think you could check through them?"

"Me, checking ident codes?" Roland asked. "Ppfffttt, that's easy. I can have it done for you in a jiffy. In fact, I just… Aw, hell!"

"What is it?" Murphy asked.

"I just ran the codes against what the Pantorans use. From what I can gather, the codes the Rimward Flight sent us aren't authentic ident codes. They're fakes, clever ones to be sure, but fakes all the same. I think we might have a pirate scout on our hands!"

Murphy's heart sank when he heard that. "Can you inform the Captain?"

"He already has," came Lasky's voice. "Roland, I need you ready to hack into the Rimward Flight's computer systems ASAP. The moment the captain of that ship finds out were onto him, he'll attempt to jump away from the system if he can't persuade us to take a bribe. I also want you to cross reference all of his identification information to make sure we're talking to who we think we are."

"Understood," Roland said. "Primed and ready for the hack. Should we inform Pantora STC about this?"

"Yes," Lasky said. "They're on the need-to-know list for this sort of thing."

. . .

Onboard the Rimward Flight, Hondo was now having his second cup of recaf for the day. Much better than last time, he thought as he finished sipping his cup. At least I didn't splatter my drink onto the console. That would've been bad.

He frowned as the ship continued to fly closer to Pantora. They should've contacted me by this point, he thought. Either they're really busy handling other ships at the moment, or they're having a recaf break like me. He shrugged and got ready to finish his cup of recaf.

Again, a shrill beeping sound erupted in the cockpit. This time, Hondo didn't even twitch, with the man lazily leaning over and hitting the COM button. "Rimward Flight to Pantora STC control. You ready to allow me to land?"

"I'm afraid we cannot do so," came the reply.

Hondo immediately bolted upright in his chair. "What do you mean, I cannot land?" he asked. "I've got the proper ident codes and I sent them to you. Is there something wrong?"

"Yes. The codes you sent us are either too old, or they are counterfeit codes. Remain at your current position and submit to an inspection of your ship and cargo. Failure to comply will be seen as a hostile act."

Hondo's heart leaped into his throat. Damn! The falsified ident codes didn't work. He took a few breaths to calm himself. Be reasonable, Hondo. Maybe a bribe will get us through. "Surely, we can work something out?" he said. "Perhaps a little tip might persuade you otherwise."

Then a new voice spoke up. "Rimward Flight, this is Rear Admiral Thomas Lasky of the Infinity. You are under arrest for attempted piracy, illegal landing and identity fraud. We will be on hand shortly to begin a boarding inspection of your ship. Remain where you are. Any attempt to flee will be seen as a hostile action, and will be treated accordingly."

That, more than anything, made Hondo panic. I've been made! he realized. I gotta get out of here! Desperate, he reached for the controls… and found that they wouldn't move. Straining with all of his might, he made a futile attempt to budge them. Damn, they're stuck! Looking at the hyperdrive controls, he moved the lever to activate the hyperdrive.

Just as he did, a voice said, "Nah, ah, ah, Captain Hendor. I wouldn't advise trying to activate your hyperdrive. You see, I just disabled it, which means that you've gotta come with us."

"Who are you?!" Hondo demanded.

"I'm Roland, your friendly neighborhood UNSC Smart AI onboard the Infinity. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to tend to. Ta ta."

The moment Hondo heard the acronym, his heart leaped in panic and sweat formed on his scaly face. Oh no! he quietly moaned in despair. The UNSC. I've heard about those guys! They killed off an entire pirate fleet when they attempted a coup!

In his desperation, he began looking for a hiding place. Then an idea burst into the forefront of his mind. Of course! he thought. This ship was outfitted for smugglers, so there are smuggling compartments. I could hide in one of those until they either decide to give up looking, or take the ship to the planet. Then I can deliver my cargo without any fuss. Pulling out his blaster pistol, he began firing at any cameras that were in his section of the ship. Once he was reasonably satisfied, he looked out of the view port.

The sight that greeted him was both unnerving and unwelcome. His eyes went wide as the Infinity exited a portal that had opened in space. Upon seeing the size of the ship, a terrified squeak came from his mouth. Damn, the Infinity''s huge! he realized. It could probably swallow thousands of ships like the one I'm on! I gotta go now! He gulped loudly.

Racing into the halllway, he grabbed at a floor panel and lifted it. Beneath the panel was a shielded compartment that had a small air purifier inside. Dropping inside, he secured the lid of the smuggling compartment and pulled his blaster out. Several muted thumps indicated that something had latched onto his ship. They're reeling me in! he thought. Well, if they want to catch me, they'll have to find me first!

. . .

At Hangar Bay 21-D, Thorne watched as the Rimward Flight was slowly dragged into the Infinity. "Here she comes," he said. "Fireteam Majestic, prepare for boarding action."

"Roger that," Hoya said. "Weapos are primed and loaded. Let's go introduce ourselves."

Thorne keyed his COM. "Roland, what are we looking at here?"

"Potential pirate activity," Roland said. "The Rimward Flight attempted to send falsified identification codes to Pantora STC in an attempt to land on the planet. Pantora STC alerted us to the anomalies in the codes, which led to yours truly investigating them. Lasky's been informed, and we've got military police entering the hangar bay as we speak. If our guest tries anything, he'll be Swiss cheese before he knows it."

"Understood," Thorne said. "Fireteam Majestic, keep your weapons locked and cocked. This guy might not have a disruptor, but better safe than sorry. If your shields go down, put anything you can find between yourself and the shooter. Disruptors can badly damage MJÖLNIR Armor. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" the others said.

"Good."

The Rimward Flight slowly entered the hangar bay, passing through the magcon field that separated ship air from hard vacuum. The docking clamps reached forwards, then latched onto the bulk freighter with grim certainty. Once the ship was fully secured, Roland deployed the ship's landing ramp.

All five members of Fireteam Majestic quickly moved forwards, weapons aimed and ready. Reaching the door, Thorne said, "Roland, pop the door!"

"Opening now!" The door slid open, with all five members quickly filing inside. "Split up!" Thorne said. "Move in teams of two. Anthony, remain at the door! If we get into trouble, radio for assistance ASAP!"

"You got it," Anthony said.

. . .

Deep within the ship, the cargo inside of the cargo bays growled hungrily, light sensing orbs gazing out the tiny transparisteel slit into the cargo bay. Tentacles ending in large club-like appendages pushed against the door, only to feel unyielding durasteel blocking the way, yet… there was something off. Something about the door that seemed… pliable.

The creature inside felt against the door, instinct guiding its efforts. Before long, it felt the door move slightly, not enough to open freely, but enough that a little force could blow it open. The thing rolled backwards, ready to knock the doors down.

It stopped when it heard a pair of voices. Keeping still, it watched as two metallic things walked into the hangar bay. Seeing that they were not of its kind, the creature prepared to strike. It was a patient hunter, and patient hunters almost always got their prey.

. . .

Near the front of the ship, Thorne and Hoya finished sweeping the bridge of the bulk freighter. "No one here," Hoya said. "Maybe they bolted to the escape pods?"

"Negative," Roland said. "No escape pods were jettisoned from the ship. Whoever used the false ident codes is still onboard the ship."

Thorne keyed his TEAMCOM. "Majestic-3, SITREP?"

"Nothing here so far," Grant said. "We've got a pair of cargo bays in the back, but they're solidly locked."

"I'm picking up odd life signs in here," Ray added. "Could it be that we stumbled onto a slaver ship that got lost?"

"At this point, we have to consider all possibilities," Thorne said. "Investigate the cargo bays, but be careful. The last thing we need is a dead Spartan or dead civvies. Majestic-1 out."

"What now?" Hoya asked.

Thorne mulled the situation over. Hando can't have escaped from the ship, he thought. Either he's remotely piloting the ship, or…

His thoughts were interrupted when he thought he heard something. He instinctively raised his MA5D. "You hear that?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hoya said. "Someone's here. Promethean VISR?"

"Good call," Thorne said. "Switching to Promethean VISR." A mental command from his neural lace resulted in the real word being replaced by the computer generated world the enhanced VISR displayed. The dark interior was replaced by a dark blue scan of the entire room. Hoya and the others appeared as green silhouettes, but three of the cargo bays were in gray.

What got his attention was that there was a yellow colored silhouette below the floor. Turning it off, he pointed to a section of the deck. Hoya nodded, then carefully proceeded over to the section of flooring, shotgun in hand. Once he was in position, he sent a green ready signal to Thorne. In an explosion of movement, Thorne punched his fist through the deck plating and pulled back… hard.

Hondo had barely enough time to yelp before an armored hand tore through the deck plating and grabbed him by the shirt. One moment, he was still inside of the compartment, the next he grunted as he landed on the ground, with the floor panel landing just mere inches from him. Seeing the armored men before him, he immediately pulled out his blaster and fired four shots in rapid succession.

Any hope of escape died when the blaster bolts ricocheted off of a gold energy field that shimmered into existence. Terrified, Hondo turned and ran towards the escape pod in the bridge, only for pair of arms to wrap around his torso like a steel vice. "Where do you think you're going?" the armored man said in an almost casual manner. "Hey Hoya, look at this. We've got ourselves a runner."

"Looks like it," the second armored soldier, Hoya, said. Hondo struggled like mad, but stopped when his captor tightened his grip. "I wouldn't struggle if I were you. Spartans have a nasty habit of shooting anyone that tries to run."

Hondo froze when he heard those words. I've heard rumors of the Spartans, he recalled. Armored behemoths that are practically invulnerable without a disruptor on hand. Still, the mere mention of those individuals was enough to crush any remaining hope of escape. "All right," he said. "You've got me. I'm surrendering now." To show he meant it, he dropped his blaster pistol.

"Secure that weapon!" Thorne thundered. Hoya immediately picked it up off the ground and slipped it into an armored pocket on his armor. "Roland, can you get me a scan of this individual? I want to know if he really is who he says he is."

"On it, Majestic," Roland said. A thin cone of blue light came from an aperture on Thorne's helmet, with the beam washing over Hondo. "Well, well… look who we have here. Turns out, this guy isn't who he says he is."

"Cut to the chase, Roland," Thorne growled. "Who is this guy?"

"One Hondo Ohnaka. Apparently, he's something of a two bit gangster and minor criminal. He's got multiple charges of smuggling, various other crimes and he's a noted con artist."

Hondo frowned. "Well, you got me there too."

"That we did," Thorne said. "I'm certain that the UNSC will be gracious to you, since this is your first offense. Once our friends have investigated the cargo bay, we'll be taking you aboard. I'm arresting you on charges of attempted piracy and possible human trafficking."

Down in the cargo bay, Ray and Grant were carefully moving towards the cargo hold doors, weapons locked and at the ready. The doors were massive things held in place by strong locks. They didn't seem to be in good repair, though, as Ray said, "They've got rust on the doors. Any change in those life signs?"

"No," Grant said. "If anything, they've become even more erratic than before. Something's up."

"I agree." Walking to one of the doors, she peered inside. "Maybe we…"

"Maybe we what?" Grant asked. "Ray? Are you -"

"MOVE!" Ray shouted. She threw herself away from the door, nearly colliding with Grant in the process. Grant also threw herself back, M45D aimed at the door.

The moment she took aim, something struck the door with tremendous force. The locking mechanisms screeched loudly as they bent, then they snapped with a loud, metallic POP! The door flew for a good ten meters before coming to rest near the third of the sealed cargo doors.

What rolled out seemed like something of a horror film. Grant watched as a rotund creature of sorts dragged itself out of the chamber it had been locked inside. A number of yellow-green orbs were on parts of its surface, and it had a large, round mouth filled with teeth. A series of tentacles dragged it over the ground, while larger ones ended in club-like appendages.

Spotting the two, the creature roared, then curled up into a ball and rolled towards them. Both Spartans threw themselves out of the way, just in time to see the remaining three doors burst open, letting out more monsters identical to the first. "WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE THINGS?!" Grant shouted.

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE!" Ray shouted. "SHOOT THEM!"

Both Spartan-IVs immediately opened fire, filling the cargo bay with the roars of their firearms. Grant fired her shotgun, scoring a hit on one of the creatures. It only made the creature angry, as it roared, then rolled towards her. She barely got out of the way in time, with the creature smashing against the wall, denting it.

"Team Leader, we have a problem!" Ray shouted into the TEAMCOM.

"What's the matter?" Thorne shouted. "Ray, SITREP!"

"We've been engaged!" Ray shouted. "Requesting immediate aid! We're about to get eaten alive down here…!"

"Copy that," Thorne said, "Hoya, get down there and provide assistance ASAP!" Hoya charged down the hallway, his armored form disappearing out of sight seconds later. "Anthony, signal Roland to get us some help ASAP!" Looking at Hondo, he asked, "What are we dealing with?!"

Hondo's face went wide, or as white as a Weequay's face could. "Oh no!" he gasped. "No no no no no no! It can't be! This can't be! They told me it was weapons and explosives! They didn't tell me what they were hauling!"

"WHAT WERE THEY HAULING?!" Thorne thundered.

"R-Rathars," Hondo whimpered. "They stored Rathars on the ship! Those sons of Gundarks!"

"Bad guy coming out!" Hoya shouted, interrupting Thorne's reply. "I -urg!" Hoya flew around the corner, smashing into the wall. At the same time, the Rathar rolled into view, howling with rage as blood weeped from holes in its rubbery hide.

Thorne, spotting the coming threat, shouted, "Anthony! SEAL THE DOOR!" Tightening his grip on Hondo, he threw himself down onto the ground.

Anthony, hearing the order, immediately moved to comply. Before he could, though, the Rathar, spotting him, rolled forwards and then, in one motion, tried to swallow him whole. "AGH!" Anthony shouted as it's maw closed over him. A steely scrape filled the air as its teeth ground against his armor's energy shields. Screeching in rage, the Rathar, unable to stop its forward momentum, let go and rolled on.

Anthony, pulled along by the creature, smashed into the wall. Dazed, he looked at the door. To his horror, the Rathar flew out the door just as it closed. "Aw, shit!" he groaned…

Outside, Military Police Sergeant Harold Thames was watching the ship when he heard the sound. "What the hell's going on in there?" he asked.

"No idea," his subordinate, Corproral James Gerald, said with a shrug. "Hopefully our guest isn't been too uncooperative. I don't want to use my stun baton if I can help it."

"Me neither, I -" Harold paused, then jumped when a round creature taller than a man flew out of the ship's door with a meaty WHACK. It quickly reoriented itself, then looked at Harold and the others.

"What the hell is that?!" Harold shouted.

"That's a Rathar!" Roland said. "Fireteam Majestic's tied up with them. You need to run and call for help, otherwise the entire ship's gonna become a buffet!"

"Uh, oh…" Gerald whispered. Seeing them, the creature roared, then rolled towards them. "Not good!" he shouted. "Definitely not good!"

"RUN!" Harold yelled. Both men immediately began running pell-mell towards the rest of the hangar bay. "BAD GUY COMING OUT!" Harold shouted. "CLEAR THE HANGAR!" The hangar crew looked at him in confusion, then spotted the thing chasing the two military policemen. One crew member screamed, then turn to ran, only to be devoured by the creature.

Pandemonium instantly ensued. Every member of the hangar crew that saw the creature immediately bolted. Toolboxes, stands and tools were bowled over, or sent flying, as the hangar crew began running for cover like mad. The military police, seeing the creature, immediately opened fire. Bullets pelted the thing as it raced towards them.

"We're not hurting it!" one member of the MP shouted. "We need – AAAAGGGHHH!" His cries of agony were cut short when the Rathar, after swallowing him partly, bit his body in half. The man's legs and lower torso fell to the ground and blood sprayed onto the creature.

"Guns ain't doing shit to this thing!" Gerald shouted. "The bullets are bouncing off! We need something bigger!"

"Hold it off!" Harold shouted. "I'll call for help!" Racing towards the intercom, he vaulted over cargo crates and boxes.

The Rathar, seeing him, screeched and rolled towards him, only for Gerald to distract it. "Hey, asshole!" he shouted. "Come and get me!" Screeching in rage, the creature turned and began chasing him.

Reaching the intercom, Harold immediately mashed the talk button with a fist. "This is Sergeant Harold of the Military Police to anyone on the end of this fucking thing! We need help! We're getting torn up down here…!"

On the other end of the intercom, Lieutenant Command Phillip heard Harold's cries for help. Dashing over, he said, "Sergeant Harold, Lieutenant Command Philip here. Please repeat! Over!"

"We're getting fucking eaten alive down here!" Harold shouted. "Something tore its way out of the ship, and we've got unarmed personnel in here! It's trying to eat us!"

Phillip frowned, then checked the security feed. To his astonishment and horror, he watched as a creature he had never seen before devoured two more hangar deck crew. Mashing the intercom feed, he said, "Sergeant Harold, I'm sending people to your location ASAP! Hang tight! Help's on the way!" Switching intercom frequencies, he said, "Lieutenant Commander Phillip to Lieutenant Colonel Parisa, do you read me? Over!"

"I read you," came Parisa's voice. "What is it?"

"We've got a major situation in Hangar Bay 21-Delta! Unidentified organism is tearing through the crew down there! I need you to get your men and get inside ASAP! I'm locking down the hangar bay to prevent anymore casualties from happening! Your codes should open the doors once you're there!"

"Can you show me what we're facing?" Parisa asked.

"Negative. Standing military orders prevent me from doing so. I can tell you, though, that it's larger than a man, and it's rolling around really fast! Get down there! NOW!"

"Copy that, I'm on my way!" Parisa said. "ODSTs, Marines, with me! We've got a problem to contain!"

Switching frequencies, Phillip said, "Sergeant Harold, help is on the way! Hold out as long as you can…!"

"Copy that," Harold shouted from the other end. "Men! Get that thing away from the civvies! Focus fire!" Each of the Military Police personnel began firing at the creature. "Get the doors locked down! No crew inside!"

Each of the military police immediately acted. Some began pelting the thing with gunfire, while others began herding crew away from the creature. Two MP troops blocked off one of the doors, while others began pushing everyone that wasn't in immediate danger out of the doors before they closed and locked themselves.

Others that were unable to get to the doors in time began to get creative. One man quickly began pulling himself up to the catwalks on the upper levels, while others already up there threw together makeshift barricades from crates and anything else they could find. One man dangled from a cable, while others began climbing up any stacks of crates they could find. Others simply traveled up elevators and froze them part way up.

Harold and the others continued to fire at the creature. A triumphant shout came from Gerald when he blasted off one tentacle with an M6D, only for his face to pale when the creature turned on him. Throwing himself behind a crate, he howled in agony as his legs were crushed by the creature. "MOTHERFUCKER!" he shouted.

The creature turned, roaring as it charged to eat him whole, only for Harold and two more MP's to tackle the thing, sending it rolling away. "COME ON!" Harold shouted as he dragged Gerald away. "I'm not letting some motherfucking bouncy ball eat you alive…!"

Running down the hallway with some Marines and a few ODSTs, Parisa came to the doors to the hangar. Punching in the codes Phillip sent her, she opened the doors. "GO! GO! GO!" she shouted. The men with her quickly entered the hangar bay, with Parisa shutting the doors and locking them.

Turning towards the hangar she quickly saw the creature in question. "Fuck me running!" she heard one of her men shout. "That's one big, ugly motherfucker!"

"LOOK OUT!" Sergeant Stacker shouted, throwing the man out of the way, just as the creature rushed towards them.

Throwing themselves behind cover, Parisa and the others immediately began laying down a fusillade. The Rathar howled in agony and rage as bullets designed to pierce nanolaminate armor tore through its hide. Rolling away, it began throwing things at them with its tendrils. "Watch out!" Parisa shouted, pulling one of her men down.

"Fuck!" a Marine shouted. "Guns ain't working for shit on that thing! I can't get a target!"

"I'll see if I can call for help!" Parisa reached to her earpiece, only for something to bowl her over. Scrambling to her legs, she cursed when she watched the Rathar eat her earpiece. "You fucking asshole!" she shouted. "I NEEDED THAT!"

"DOWN!" Stacker shouted, pulling her to the floor. A tentacle whipped through the air where her head had been. "We're getting chewed up here!"

"We need backup!" Parisa shouted. Seeing the intercom on the other side, she said. "There! The holotable near the intercom! We can use it to call for help!"

"That monster's in the way!" Stacker shouted. "Any ideas?!"

"Yeah," Parisa said, "but y'all are gonna hate me for it!"

"What?!" one of her men shouted. "You're using us as bait for that thing?!"

"Got any better ideas?!" Parisa asked.

"Not at the moment, no!"

"Then that's what we're doing!" Parisa shouted. "Cover me!"

"Copy that!" Stacker shouted. "SUPPRESSING FIRE!"

All of the soldiers behind the barricade immediately let loose while running towards the ship. The Rathar, maddened from the pain, screeched and charged towards them. Seeing her chance, Parisa bolted across the hangar. Boots pounding, lungs burning, she reached the holotable and keyed in her codes. "Lieutenant Colonel Parisa to any UNSC forces! Does anyone copy?! Over!" No answer. "Anyone there?! Come in, damnit!"

Cortana's hologram appeared over the holotable. "Parisa? What's going on?" she asked.

"Take a look, genius!" Parisa shouted. "We're getting massacred in here!"

Cortana looked at the feeds, then gasped with horror. "Got it! I'm contacting the Chief!"

"Make it fast! We're getting torn up over here!" Parisa shouted.

. . .

In his office, Chief was finishing up the last bit of paperwork he had when the holotable chimmed. Proceeding over, he keyed it, with Cortana's avatar appearing. "Cortana. Need me for something?" he asked.

"Chief, we've got a problem!" Cortana said. "A big one!"

"Whoa!" Chief said, raising his hands. "Slow down. What's going on?"

"There's no time to explain!" Cortana shouted. "I need you to contact Lasky now!" To further underscore her point, she pulled up a feed of what was happening.

Chief's face hardened when he saw the Rathar gobble up a Marine. It then tried to get at Parisa, only for a few Marines to sever the tentacles it lashed out at her through sheer volume of fire. "Chief, we need heavier weapons!" Parisa shouted over her frequency. "Our guns ain't working for shit on this thing, and the hangar armories don't have explosives! I -" The feed cut out just as a Rathar smashed into the table.

"Contact Lasky now!" Chief thundered. "I'm declaring General Quarters!"

Alarms rang as Cortana issued the alert. Keying the 'com, Chief thundered, "This is not a drill! This is not a drill! General Quarters! General Quarters! Hostiles in Hangar 21-Delta!" Switching to another frequency, he said, "Blue Team, head to Spartan Deck and get armored up! I'll be with you shortly!"

"Chief, what's going on?" came Lasky's voice. "I… OH SHIT! Get down there! NOW!"

"Hang on!" Lasky shouted. "Gabriela, transfer a Broadsword with full weapons loadout now! Chief, you gotta get down there and kill that thing or this entire ship's gonna be one big all-you-can-eat buffet!"

"Moving now!" Chief said. "Cortana, link up with my armor ASAP."

"Copy that!" Cortana said. "Hold tight, Parisa! Help's on the way!"

. . .

In the adjacent hangar, Robert Jones threw himself into the Broadsword being transferred to Hangar Bay 21-Delta. Throwing on his harness and helmet, he quickly ran through the preflight checklist before giving the flight crew the thumbs up. A rumble ran through the fighter as the lift moved down, then began moving to the right. Keying his COM, he said, "Sir, what are we dealing with?"

"We've got what Roland's calling a Rathar on the loose!" Lasky said. "It's trying to eat the hangar crew alive! Their weapons aren't hurting it fast enough, and they can't use explosives for fear of blowing up the entire hangar. I need you to kill that monster before it turns the entire ship into a buffet!"

"You got it," Robert said. "I'll turn that thing into some roast calamari." Switching frequencies, he said, "Hangar 21-Delta, this is Pilot Robert Jones. Hang tight. I'm on my way…"

"About fucking time!" Parisa shouted. "We're being eaten down here!"

"Get down!" Stacker shouted, tackling her to the ground. The blows from the Rathar's tentacles barely missed their heads by inches. Firing his shotgun, he quickly dissuaded the thing from attacking. "Parisa, LOOK OUT!"

Parisa tried to dodge, only for the Rather to wrap a tentacle around her and begin pulling here in. "Parisa, are you there?!" John shouted. "Parisa?!"

I'm dead, Parisa thought as the creature pulled her closer. Her knife bounced uselessly off the creature's hard hide. "John," she said as the gunfire reached a fever pitch. "I think I'm about to die. Goodbye, John. I love you…" She braced for the inevitable agony and the feeling of teeth crushing her bones.

It never came.

Something slammed into the Rathar, forcing it to let go of Parisa. Tumbling to the ground, she looked up to see a Spartan IV tackling the creature. At the same instant, dozens of Spartan IV's emerged into the hangar, each one fully armored and armed. "Friendlies coming in!" Crimson-1 shouted. "All Spartans, focus fire on the Rathar! Take it down!"

"On it!" the others shouted. Each Spartan IV immediately focused fire on the Rathar, which roared at them in rage. Charging forwards, it took most of the brunt of the attack on its hide.

"Keep shooting!" Locke, the head of Fireteam Osiris, shouted. "We've almost -!"

"LOOK OUT!" Vale shouted.

Before Locke could react, the Rathar turned in his direction and moved. One moment, Locke was firing his BR85N at the Rathar, the next, he found himself being mashed to the ground by the Rathar. When it rolled off, part of his visor had cracked, and he felt as though an Elephant had rolled over him, His weapon flew straight out of his hand, landing just a few feet away. "Ah… piss!" he grumbled.

Buck came into view seconds later. The Spartan-IV's face was hidden, though it was clear from the sounds he was making that he was holding back a laugh. "Are you OK?" he asked.

Locke grumbled. "Fine. Just a little winded." He grabbed the hand Buck offered and stood. Hearing the creature howl, he quickly picked up his BR85N and continued firing. "Where's the damn Broadsword?!" he growled.

He got his answer soon enough. Hearing something, he turned his gaze towards the back of the hangar. A Broadsword slowly rose into view, the lift whirring before it came to a stop. Switching to VTOL mode, Robert quickly fired up the engines. The Broadsword lifted itself into the air with an almost fluid grace. "Target locked," he said as he turned his guns on the Rathar. "Fox Three!"

There was a whir as the MLA's opened fire on the Rathar. The creature howled as 30mm slugs tore through it's body, though it stubbornly clung to life. Then Robert fired the pair of Medusa missile pods on the fighter, sending two Dumb AI guided missiles towards the thing. In an instant, the Rathar was ripped apart by the detonations. Chunks of alien gore, combined with gore from the people it had eaten, tore the thing apart.

Ducking down, Parisa watched as large chunks of gore smacked into the crates and walls. "Hey, did someone order roast calamari?" he heard the pilot ask. "Y'all can relax now. Target has been terminated."

Parisa sighed. "That was way too fucking close." Keying the intra-hangar 'com, she asked, "All right. Who's not dead? Sound off!" Several people shouted their names.

"We've lost around fifty hangar crew, twenty military policemen, five Marines and two ODSTs," Cortana said. "Whatever the hell that thing was, it was tough enough to survive weapons that would've killed ordinary people. Good thing it can't kill anyone now."

"Yeah," Parisa said. Seeing a Warthog lying on its side, she whistled. "Damn thing sent a Warthog flying! Good thing it couldn't resist missiles. I think we're clear."

"Not quite," Cortana said. "Fireteam Majestic's currently handling two more inside of the Rimward Flight. Chief's moving to neutralize them."

"Where the hell is he?!" Parisa asked. In response, the door near her opened, permitting Blue Team inside.

"SITREP?" Chief asked, his body clad from head to toe in MJÖLNIR armor.

"We killed the damn thing, finally," Parisa said. "It ate some of the crew and some of my men." She kicked at the holotable. "Damnit! We should've had explosives in here! Where the hell were the reinforcements!" She hung her head in shame.

She was surprised, as such, when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," Chief said. "We came as quickly as we could." Looking towards the ship, he said, "Cortana, what's Fireteam Majestic's status?"

"I can answer that," Roland said, "They're currently avoiding being eaten alive. It's taking almost all of my efforts to keep them alive. Hondo's trying to help, but his thermal detonators could tear a hole into the ship's hull. We need you to kill the Rathars inside, Chief."

Chief nodded. "Understood. Tell Majestic we're moving to assist. Parisa, get your men to the door and hold position." Before Parisa could protest, Chief handed her an M41 SPNKr. "We can't risk those Rathars escaping. If one reaches the door, shoot it."

"Got it," Parisa said. Taking the rocket launcher, she said, "Everyone, form up on me!"

. . .

Inside the Rimward Flight, Thorne was doing everything he could to keep himself from being eaten alive. Struggling against the Rathar, he roared with effort as he threw the thing towards it's companion, which was molesting Ray. Both Rathar's howled as they were thrown away from the Spartan-IV.

Nearby, Anthony, Hoya and Grant were firing their weapons at the Rathars. Hondo had joined in too, having been given back his Blaster by Hoya. Said blaster chirruping loudly as he fired blaster bolts in rapid succession at the things. "Damnit, we can't kill the things!" he shouted. "We need to pull back!"

"We can't!" Thorne shouted. "Roland just informed me of what happened outside! One of those killed fifty seven people! If they escape, the entire ship is at risk!"

"SPAST!" Hondo shouted. "This wasn't how I planned my day to go! I never wanted this to happen! It was supposed to be an easy job, then this happened! Oh the humanity and all the people!"

At least Hondo has a conscience, Thorne noted, even if it needs some recalibration. "Hold them off!" he shouted. "They're gonna send for help sooner or later!"

"LOOK OUT!" Grant shouted. Turing towards her, Thorne was about to move when a Rathar collided with him, sending him into the wall. Roaring, it began inching it's maw closer to him. Roaring in defiance, Thorne took out a grenade.

Fortunately for him, he would never need it.

Before he could prime the grenade, a shotgun sounded off, blasting the Rathar off of him. Looking left, Thorne watched as Chief and the rest of Blue Team immediately swooped into action. Running towards one of the Rathars, Chief jumped into the air, firing his MA5 into the creature's upper body. The creature howled, then screeched when Chief did exactly what Thorne had tried to do with his grenade. The Rathar howled, then exploded into chunks when the grenade detonated. The other one howled, then charged, only for a missile to intercept it, blasting it into meaty chunks.

The entire cargo bay fell silent as the last of the creature's gore fell to the ground. Thorne, seeing it was dead, began getting to his feet. Seeing a hand, he grabbed it, with Linda hefting him to his feet. "Thanks," he said. "Those Rathars were a handful."

"Anytime," Linda said.

"Fireteam, status?" Chief asked.

"We're all alive, thanks to you," Thorne said. "I… I wish I could say the same for the people out there. I…"

"It was my fault," Anthony said. "I was closing the door when the Rathar tried to eat me. It couldn't hold on, and it threw me against a wall when it let go. I… I couldn't stop it. I…" He bowed his head in shame.

"Cortana?" Chief asked.

"He's right," Cortana said. "I can say, though, that it wasn't his fault. That Rathar was heavy and strong enough to do exactly what he said happened. I just reviewed the feed. There's nothing he could've done."

Chief nodded. A memory from his training under Mendez came to mind. There are time where you can get everything right, and still lose, he heard Mendez's voice say. That's life, 117. "You did what you could," Chief said to Anthony. "Not many can say the same." His gaze shifted to Hondo. "Were you transporting them?"

Hondo's shoulders slumped. "Yes," he said, "but my employers never told me I was hauling Rathars! If I knew what they were doing, I would've told them to take their credits and shove them up their asses before jumping into a Sarlacc pit!" He kicked at the deck in anger. "That's the last time I work for those people!" Looking at Chief with some hope, he said, "Maybe we can cut a deal, some kind of deal that…"

"Spartans, secure the prisoner!" Chief said, interrupting Hondo. Both Fred and Linda quickly secured Hondo, before dragging him away. "What happened was sloppy and avoidable, but not on you parts," Chief told Thorne and the others. "You did what you could, even though it went FUBAR."

"Chief, I -" Anthony began.

"No," Chief interrupted him, his voice softening. "Cortana showed me the feeds. The five of you performed in sub-optimal conditions. You did everything right, and while you couldn't stop seventy seven people from being killed, you did prevent more lives from being lost.

"You did exactly what you were supposed to do: block the enemy and save lives. Sometimes, that's the only victory you can achieve. Head back to your quarters. I'll have you speak with me in my office when we can. Dismissed."

As they left, Chief heard his COM ping. Keying it, he said, "Yes, sir?"

"Has the threat been neutralized?" Lasky asked.

"Affirmative, sir. The 'Rathars' have been terminated. We are currently escorting the Captain of the ship to the brig. He claims to have had no knowledge of what his employers asked him to transport. We'll be working to determine if that is true or not."

"I see," Lasky said. "Report to my office at 1400 hours. We'll need to figure out how this disaster occurred in the first damn place. Dismissed."

. . .

"So, the main reason why we lost so many people was a breakdown in communications between our troops in the hangar and with everyone else, all because of standing military orders?" Lasky asked.

"Yes," Chief said. "Standing Order 35-J4 prohibits the sharing of security footage with any civilian personnel, as well as between different military branches in an effort to prevent intelligence leaks to the enemy. This standing order was put in during the Insurrection, and remained in place during the Covenant-UNSC War as Captains could see boarding actions incoming and call General Quarters without any assistance. However, it is clear from current circumstances that very same military order led to the accident that happened today."

Lasky shook his head and frowned. If there was one thing that rankled him more than anything, it was when the very orders that HIGHCOM issued to save lives backfired in the most horrible fashion possible. "I see," he said. "Damnit! Our own standing orders bit us in the ass!" Pacing, he asked, "How's the cleanup operation in the hangar going?"

"Smoothly," Chief said. "The new members of the hangar crew say they should have the hangar returned to full service within a few hours."

"And the bodies of the dead?"

Chief frowned sympathetically. "We are doing everything we can to ensure they receive a proper service, sir. What happened today was a tragedy, an avoidable one, but one all the same."

Lasky sighed. "I know. It never gets any easier. Still, those crew wouldn't want us to mourn for them forever." Picking up a datapad, he said, "I'll be speaking with HIGHCOM at 1700 hours local time. If we're going to prevent another incident like this from happening, then we need to revise that standing order. You can go now, Chief. Dismissed."

. . .

Thousands of light years away and earlier in the day, Vice Admiral Teron was in his quarters. This is it, he thought with anticipation. Today is the day that our plan goes into effect. With any luck, by the time the Imperials find out what has really happened, it'll be too late for them to do anything about it.

The door opening interrupted his thoughts and made him jump. He relaxed when his XO, Genald, walked through the door. "Damnit, Genald! Don't scare me like that," he grumbled. "You just about gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh, you'll be fine," Genald teased him. "A good fright now and then is a healthy thing, wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose so. I must admit, it does help one remain alert for anything." The two men chuckled at their self-depreciating joke. Becoming serious again, Teron asked, "Is everything ready?"

"Everything is ready. We're just waiting for your go."

"Good," Teron said. "I'll head to the bridge in a moment. I'm about to send off our letter. Once the shuttle that we've chosen as the courier has left, then we will begin." He leaned in closer to Genald. "Do you wish to follow through with me? Once I send this off, there is no turning back."

Genald sighed, mulled the matter over. "I've seen the Republic that we once swore to protect turn into the very thing we sought to destroy. I would not be able to live with myself if I backed off now." He shook his head. "No, I will not back out. There is no going back, not for me."

Teron smiled. "Good. I knew I could count on you, Genald. Inform the others quietly that we're about to be ready." Genald nodded, then proceeded out the door. As it closed, Teron proceeded to a small device next to his personal computer. The device whirred, then spat out a long sheet of flimsiplast. Taking it, he folded it, then placed it inside of a small envelope.

Here we go, he thought. Keying his personal communicator, he said, "T-9604, I would like to speak to you."

The door opened, permitting a single Stormtrooper inside. "Yes, sir?" he asked.

"Would you escort this to Lambda Shuttle LS-395 please?" Teron said. "The pilot has instructions from me to send it to the Imperial Inspectorate HQ along with his usual assignment. It is for Colonel Yularen's eyes only."

The Stormtrooper nodded. "Affirmative," he said. "I'll inform him of his new assignment."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, it is time for me to go onto shift." Without a backwards glance, Teron marched out of his quarters and towards the bridge…

Deep within the bowels of the ship, various technicians and officers monitored the status of the Solar Ionization Reactor that provided power to the engines and only incidentally powered the systems that kept its puny human crew alive and well. Two of the technicians at a crucial panel had their feet up on a small table, each sharing some Corellian Ale.

"And so, the Sergeant bursts in on me, all worried and mad at the same time," one said, "and insists, we come rescue the hapless political attache. Guess he didn't know what he was getting into!" He roared at the pun. "You remember that place, Riken?"

"I do," Riken, the technician's fellow worker, said with a smile. "Zero G Disorientation Training. All four walls, floor and ceiling, perfectly mirrored, with the only thing you had being your uniform and a small jetpack. Did it start off well, at least?"

"It did, initially, but he became so disoriented that he ended up throwing up all over the walls. I had to go in there and drag him out myself. He was actually quite grateful that -"

All manner of conversation immediately ended when the normal working lights went out, filling the entire place with darkness. The emergency lighting snapped on near-instantly, filling the place with a dark red glow. Alarms wailed, nearly deafening everyone inside of the room.

Everyone assigned to the consoles immediately knew something was wrong. "The reactor's malfunctioning!" Chief Engineer Zekar shouted. "Seal off the fuel shafts!"

"The fuel shaft controls aren't responding!" another man shouted. "High levels of radiation detected!"

"Activate secondary reactors!"

"The controls aren't responding!" another crew member shouted.

The curse Zekar muttered was drowned out by the alarms. "EVERYONE OUT!" he shouted. "CLEAR THE COMPARTMENT!" Whistles were blown as everyone in the compartment began running like crazy for their lives…

Up in the bridge, Teron was about to issue orders when the alarms began wailing. Emergency lighting immediately kicked in, drowning the entire bridge in a red glow. "The SIR's malfunctioning!" Holt shouted. "Secondary reactors have failed to activate and the fuel line valves are frozen open!"

Teron cursed. "Shit! That's bad! Genald?!"

"Taking with Zekar right now!" Genald shouted. "Putting him on speakers now!"

There was a click, then Zekar came in loud and clear. "There's been a malfunction of the SIR containment fields, and I'm unable to shut the reactor down! Radiation levels near the fuel have reached lethal levels, and the cooling system has been damaged! Secondary reactors have also been damaged! I believe it might've been sabotage!"

Teron cursed loudly. "All right. Inform the crew of what's happened and let them know we're going to do everything in our power to save them. Genald, how close is the nearest Star Destroyer?"

"A good five sectors away!" Genald said. "It'll take them more than five hours to get to our position. According to Zekar, the SIR is going to go critical in less than three!"

Teron considered his options. We can't jump to hyperspace. The strain the hyperdrive puts on the SIR means that it could go critical faster than two hours, and we can't offload crew onto the nearest Star Destroyer.

He sighed, "Then we have but one option left. Genald, order the crew to abandon ship. Have the Medical Officer and the others escape. Myself, you, Zekar, Holt, Maldir and the others will launch the ship into Hyperspace to get it as far away from the crew as possible. Understood?"

Genald frowned, then nodded. "Understood. You have the 'com."

Slotting in his code cylinder, Teron keyed the shipwide 'com. "Attention all hands, this is Vice Admiral Teron speaking. The Solar Ionization Reactor has suffered a fatal malfunction due to Rebel sabotage. The reactor will go critical in less than three hours, and there are no ships nearby to pick us up.

"As such, I am issuing Situational Code E-35E: we are abandoning ship. I and a few other officers will remain on board to launch the ship into hyperspace once the crew has left. Please evacuate, and it has been an honor." Closing the 'com, he said, "You heard me, ladies and gentlemen, abandon ship."

"What about you, sir?" one young officer asked.

"I will go down with my ship. Better that my life and the lives of my chief officers be sacrificed for the good of you and the rest of the crew's than to have all of us die. Now go."

The young officer took his cap off and rested it on his chest. "It's been an honor, sir."

"Likewise," Teron said. "Now go, before it's too late!" Everyone on the bridge immediately scrambled for the escape pods…

All over the Tenacity, everyone that was in the crew was quickly ushered into the escape pods by Stormtroopers and their officers. "I have to go back for my cooking equipment!" a cook shouted as he desperately pushed against the Stormtroopers. "I need my gear!"

"No time!" one shouted. "If you go back, you'll die! That section's already being flooded with hard radiation!" Before the cook could protest, the Stormtroopers shoved him into the escape pod, then sealed the doors and hit the launch button…

At the bridge, Teron watched as the dozens, if not hundreds, of escape pods onboard the Star Destroyer were launched, one by one, into the cold hard vacuum of space. The timer slowly ticked down from it's starting time of two hours and forty five minutes. We're down to one hour and thirty minutes, he noted. We've got to move faster!

"Sir, all life pods have been ejected!" a crew member shouted. "That leaves us with just the Stormtroopers and the skeleton crew! Orders?!"

"Have the Stormtroopers board any TIE Fighters and Lambda Shuttles they can get into!" Teron thundered. "We have to get everyone off the ship!" Silence reigned as they hurriedly worked at their stations.

"All Stormtroopers and remaining have been evacuated!" Genald reported.

"Sir, malfunction in the ventilation shaft!" Holt shouted. "I'm reading toxic gases flooding into the ship!"

"SPAST!" Genald shouted. "It's the Rebels! They built in a failsafe for their plans!"

"Gas masks on!" Teron shouted. Reaching into a compartment near the holotable, he quickly threw it on and ensured a proper seal. He was just in time, as a milky gray gas came from the ventilation shafts. "Status?!"

"Some of the crew's been knocked out!" Maldir reported. "We're facing a knockout gas of some kind!"

"SPAST!" Teron shouted, shocking the others with his vulgarity. "Zekar, what's the status of the SIR?!"

"We're about to reach the criticality point!" Zekar shouted. "Time to detonation: five minutes!"

"Begin hyperspace jump!" Teron shouted.

"Hyperspace jump plotted!" Hadir shouted. "Jumping in five… four… three… two… one… now…"

Outside, the crew and Stormtroopers watched as the Tenacity leaped into hyperspace. Five minutes later, one shouted and said, "Look! The ship's exploded!" All of them watched as a flash of light erupted into existence five light minutes away. Each crew member took off their hats, while some collapsed and began to cry…

On the bridge of the ship, Teron sighed as the gas finally cleared. Genald, checking a scanner in his hands, said, "We can take our masks off now. It's safe to breath."

Teron gladly did so, casting the thing onto the ground. "Is there anyone the knockout gas caught?"

"A few," Holt said. "Internal feeds show that we've got roughly five dozen crew that failed to make it off in time. They're unconscious, but alive. They should remain that way for a full day."

"Good. It'll take us around one hour to arrive at Geonosis, another hour to check for any hyperspace tracking devices and another things the ISB might've planted and another three hours to get to Pantora. By the time the Imperial Security Bureau learns of what happened, we'll be long gone." Keying the 'com, he asked, "Zekar, how's the skeleton crew performing?"

"Performing well," Zekar replied. "I've got a droid brain hooked up to the SIR systems. It won't last forever, but it should get us to Pantora without trouble. I'll have the entire skeleton crew check for any bugs and tracking devices the ISB planted on the ship before we left port. That way, they won't know what'll have happened until your letter reaches them."

"Good," Teron said. "Inform the skeleton crew that I am proud of their efforts and that we will soon be reaching Pantora."

"Got it, boss. Zekar out."

"So, I guess this is it," Holt said. "We've formally broken away from the Galactic Empire."

"Yes," Teron said. "That we have. Once we're certain the ISB can't track us, we'll be heading to Pantora at flank speed. Just hang in there a little longer."

"That I will, sir. I'll relax once we're out of the Galactic Empire and in UNSC territory."

"That's very wise of you," Teron said. "We may have tricked the crew into leaving, but the hard part has begun."

. . .

Down in the Infinity's brig, Hondo was genuinely regretting what had happened since his arrival. First I get snagged by the UNSC, then the Rathars break loose, he grumbled. Today has just not been my day. It also doesn't help that the prison guards were quite rough. You'd think they'd be a little less rough.

His thoughts were interrupted when his cell door opened. Four ODSTs marched inside, along with a man that had a diamond symbol that was black and white. "Hondo, you're to come with us immediately."

Hondo sighed. He knew better than to fight people that had staved off a war of extinction. Getting up from his bunk, he extended his wrists to them. Once the cuffs had been slapped on, they began to haul him down the hallway.

This isn't good, he thought when he saw members of the crew frown at him. If I don't convince them that I'm useful, then I'm a dead man. I've just pissed off the most powerful ship that exists outside of the Galactic Empire, and the crew wants me dead. He shook his head. Great work, Hondo.

He was so deep in thought that he jumped when they stopped at the door. Opening it up, they dragged him inside, then sat him down firmly in the chair. "Hey, knock it off!" he grumbled reflexively. That earned him a slap to the face from one of his guards. It barely hurt, but the message was loud and clear.

Looking up, he found himself looking at a young man sitting in the chair across from himself. "You going to give us more sass?" the man asked in a tone that made it clear that no malarkey would be tolerated. Hondo nodded. "Good, we can begin." Clearing his throat, he said. "You used false ident codes in an attempt to gain access to the Pantora City Spaceport. Why?"

"I was hauling cargo for my employers," Hondo said, "though now I realize I should've told them to shove their credits up their asses. Nothing's worth hauling Rathars."

"So I've noticed," his interrogator said. "Which leads me to the next question. Who had you hauling Rathars and why?"

"I don't usually talk smack about my employers. It's bad for business, though given their choice of merchandise, I'd say that they'd deserve it. Still, it's bad luck to badmouth them."

The interrogator frowned. "Tell that to my boss." The door opened to permit a woman with brown eyes and black hair inside. Hondo guessed that she was taller than even he was, much to his shock. The one thing that chilled him to the bone were her eyes. The moment they looked at him, he knew he was in for a bad time. Following her in was a man with brown hair and brown eyes and a military uniform that fit him to the tiniest detail.

"Thank you, Ian," the woman said. "You may go now." Sitting down, she said, "Hondo Ohnaka. Con artist, smuggler extraordinaire, gang leader and now the man responsible for the unintentional manslaughter of seventy seven good men and women. I must admit, you've got quite the career."

Hondo frowned. She's trying to unsettle me. "Well, I'm not proud of the last part, to be frank."

"And you shouldn't be," the woman said. "Oh, excuse my poor manners. Allow me to introduce myself. RDML Serin Osman, RADM Lasky's attache from the Office of Naval Intelligence. This is my boss, RADM Thomas Lasky, Commanding Officer of the UNSC Infinity."

Oh, shit! Hondo thought, sweat beading onto his scaled forehead. I'm a dead man! I just pissed off two Rear Admirals and they look like they're gonna kill me!

Lasky looked at Osman. "Osman, I think you broke him."

"I might have," Osman agreed. "However, that is a small price to pay when it comes to interrogating the man that was responsible for seventy seven accidental deaths."

By now, Hondo was beginning to quiver a bit. "Please! I can make it up to you!" he shamelessly begged. "I didn't mean to kill those people! Honest!"

"That much I could gather," Lasky said, "but you still have the deaths of those people on your tab. If I were you, I'd find some way to make it up to them."

"Let me be blunt," Osman said. "Nobody knows you're here, Hondo. You don't exist, which means that if you don't cooperate, there's nothing I can't do to you. Plus, I could hand you over to the Pantoran authorities or CAA Marshals for transporting illegal animals. However, in his infinite wisdom, Lasky here has decided to offer you a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Hondo asked.

"Simple, really," Lasky said. "Normally, we would throw you into the supermax wing of the Infinity's brig and leave you there to rot for life. However, if there's one thing that ONI lacks right now, it's actionable intelligence on the criminal underworld in the galaxy. If you agree to work for us, as both a smuggler and as a part time agent for ONI Section One, you'll provide us with intelligence, goods and resources we can use. In fact, your first mission will be to hand over all information on your employers and find out where they're based at."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then Osman here gets to 'play' with you to her heart's content," Lasky said. "After that, she'll send you off to… oh, I don't know, the secret HIGHCOM facility known as Midnight. You? You just barely meet the qualifications. Plus, under UNSC maritime law, we can summarily execute you without a trial. If you accept the deal, however, I'll make sure you don't end up dead... or worse."

"So, what'll it be?" Osman asked. "Are you going to take the bargain, or end up somewhere even your worst nightmares haven't cooked up? Time to choose."

Hondo's heart began to race. I'm trapped! he realized. If I accept, I get some measure of freedom back, but ONI'll be breathing down my neck! Even the slightest mistake will get me killed! If I refuse, then I'm a dead man, and I'll be tortured to death! Not even agents from the ISB are this terrifying!

Like a bell ringing to announce the time of day, Osman said, "Time to choose, Hondo."

Hondo sighed. Ah, to the Maw with it! he decided. "All right!" he nearly shouted. "I'll take the deal! Just don't kill me!"

Lasky smiled. "Why would we kill our newest employee? That would be bad form, and it'd be a waste of personnel." The door opened to permit the guards inside. "Guards, take him back to his cell, but make sure he's well treated. Give him whatever he wants, aside from the ability to walk around freely for the time being." The guards nodded, then picked Hondo up from the table and dragged him out.

Once the door closed, Lasky chuckled. "You certainly scared the crap out of him, Osman. The moment you made it clear that you were from ONI and a Rear Admiral, he nearly squirmed."

"I do have that effect on people," Osman said, "and for good reason. Still, making Hondo agree was as easy as breaking a toothpick. It helps that his guilt over what happened made things easier."

"That it did," Lasky said. "I'll be certain to -"

"Lasky, we've got a problem," Roland said.

"What now?"

"Sensors have picked up a hyperspace signature near Pantora's defense grid," Roland reported. "LiDAR scans indicate that it's an Imperial Star Destroyer. IFF identifies it as the Tenacity."

Osman looked at Lasky, "No rest for the wicked."

"Apparently. Do we have ships moving to intercept it?"

"We do," Roland said. "Fleet Admiral Harper is moving in with some ships in the fleet. He's requesting the Infinity to be on station."

"Copy that," Lasky said. "We're on the way."

. . .

Onboard the Tenacity, Teron could see the planet of Pantora, and the fleet that was protecting the system. He swallowed involuntarily at the sight. That fleet would be able to challenge any of our own and come out on top, he thought. The only person I can think of getting through this fleet would be Thrawn.

Genald whistled. "Damn… now that's a huge fleet. I'll bet even the Empire wouldn't want to have one of their ships hit by that."

"I'm more concerned about the smaller signatures we're getting closer to the planet," Holt said. "If I had to guess, I'd say those are likely something akin to the Golan Defense Stations at Coruscant. I'd rather not find out, to be honest."

"Me neither," Teron said.

The HoloCOM at the holotable crackled to life, with the image of a man in a military uniform appearing over it. "ISD Tenacity, this is RADM Lasky of the UNSC Epoch. You are trespassing into UNSC held territory. State your intentions and leave immediately. You have one minute to comply."

"Well, we're off to a wonderful start," Genald muttered.

Teron hushed him with a look. Keying his HoloCOM, he said, "This is Vice Admiral Teron of the Imperial Navy. I have come to defect to the UNSC. Do not fire on us. I repeat: don't shoot."

Lasky frowned. "Understood, Vice Admiral Teron. Maintain position while our AI's search your computer systems. We will send a boarding action over shortly. Any aggressive action will be seen as an act of war, and we will respond accordingly. Fleet Admiral Harper out." His hologram faded out.

"I've got intrusion alarms coming up," Holt said. "From the looks of it, the AI's are sweeping through our computer systems. Shall I put in my code cylinder?"

"Do it," Teron said. "If you can open up more information to them, we can convince them that we're telling the truth. I'll put mine in as well." Pulling said code cylinder out, he slotted it in and keyed a few commands…

Onboard the Infinity, Lasky watched as Cortana began accessing the Tenacity's systems. "Anything?" he asked.

"I'm checking right now," Cortana said. "I'm detecting code cylinder use, but they're not closing off systems to me; in fact, they're doing the exact opposite. A person that's not defecting wouldn't do that."

"Check all of the systems onboard and let me know when you have a definitive answer," Lasky said. He settled in for a wait.

Before long, Cortana said, "It's genuine, sir. I just accessed Teron's personal files. From the looks of it, he has no love for the Empire. I've even learned how he managed to break away. Quite clever if you ask me."

"All right, but I'm not taking chances," Lasky said. "Fleet Admiral Harper, are you there?"

"I'm here," Harper said. "I heard the entire exchange. As per naval protocol, I am granting you the authority to accept requests for amnesty. Your orders are to board the Tenacity and to accept Teron's request for asylum."

"Understood," Lasky said…

Onboard the Tenacity, Holt's heart raced as he proceeded to the primary hangar on the Star Destroyer. This is it, he thought. I really hope that the UNSC accepts us. I didn't come this far to die now. He took a few breaths, then proceeded to the hangar bay.

No sooner had he entered than a large number of green colored ships did. They distinctly reminded him of some species he'd seen at Mon Calamari before being transferred to Teron's ship. He gulped, then took a deep breath.

The doors to each of the ships opened, allowing men armored in olive drab and black armor to advance onto the deck. Several heavily armored figures in orange and gray armor advanced out of one ship, while several others in gray, blue did the same. One of them was dressed in olive drab armor. This one advanced towards him. "Are you the Commanding Officer of the ship?" he asked in a gravelly and rough voice.

"No," Holt said. "I've been instructed to escort you to him. Would you kindly follow me, please?" The armored man nodded.

Even as he escorted them through the hallways of the ship, Holt could feel his heart beating against his ribcage. Relax, he told himself. It'll do you no good to be so high strung that you can't think straight. Beating his panic down, he quickly brought them to the turbolifts that would take them to the bridge.

"He's quite tense," Cortana said to Chief. "Then again, most people would be if they were from an government that was semi-hostile/semi-friendly to the UNSC."

Chief nodded. "He's a good officer. He hasn't panicked yet. What's Lasky's status?"

"He's coming aboard to speak with Teron on Harper's behalf. He's got Crimson guarding him."

"Crimson's a good fireteam," Chief said. "I'm confident in their ability to keep Lasky safe."

Any conversation halted when they reached the bridge. Standing near the holotable was a group of four men. Three of them were wearing military uniforms, while the fourth was at a console gazing at them nervously. Leading the group was a man with weathered tan skin, brown and graying dark brown hair. From the way he held himself, it was clear that this man was Teron.

Looking at Zhar, Teron said, "You can disable the alarms now." Zhar punched in a few commands, with the emergency red lighting becoming daylight white once more. Looking at the armored man before him, Teron asked, "Who are you?"

"RDML Sierra-117" Chief said.

"I thought I would be speaking with Rear Admiral Lasky."

"You're aboout to now," came a younger voice. Terron watched as a man with brown hair and eyes walked into view. "Vice Admiral Teron, I take it?"

"Yes. With me is my XO Genald and my subordinates Hadir, Holt, Maldir and Zekar, along with the ship's skeleton crew. I present to you, the Imperial-1 class Star Destroyer Tenacity. I request political asylum within the United Earth Government and military asylum within the United Nations Space command."

"Cortana?" Lasky asked.

"He's telling the truth," Cortana said. "I'm reading no indications of deception from Teron. Judging by his bometrics, and his personal files, I think he's telling the truth."

Lasky nodded. "Indeed." Extending a hand, he said, "I'm Rear Admiral Thomas Lasky of the UNSC Infinity. By the authority vested in me by Fleet Admiral Joseph Harper, I accept your request for asylum within the UNSC."

Teron shook Lasky's hand. "Thank you," he said. "I take it that you have a lot of questions as to what is going on. If so, then I turn myself in to your custody willingly." He extended both wrists.

"Spartans, secure the Admiral and his friends," Lasky ordered. "Have an engineering team come aboard the Tenacity immediately. We've just scored the biggest win since we got here."

. . .

On a planet far away from Pantora, a young man was kneeling within a circle formed from other shapes. He barely stirred as the wind brushed against him, blowing a few strands of reddish-orange hair to the sides of his head. His breathing quickened and became labored as his eyes began moving rapidly.

The image of a young woman with brown hair and green eyes floated before him. She screamed as electric lashes whipped across her back. Defiantly looking at her torturers, she spat at them, earning more lashes to her back. "Cal!" a voice said to him. "Help me! Save me!"

"Jyn!" Cal shouted. "Jyn!"

Images of a city appeared before him. Pedestrians and guards walked down the streets, faces hidden by masks. Traders bartered, criminals threatened and stole, while some looked on, hiding in their homes. The vision changed to that of a gas giant with swirling clouds and a moon far off.

As the vision began to fade, he saw a planet with white clouds, blue oceans and dark brown continents. Before he could speak, an elderly woman with no hair and gray robes appeared before him. "Go, Cal," she said. "Seek this world out. You will find the help you need there."

Cal Kestus gasped as the vision ended abruptly. Heart pounding, he remained in his kneeling position and closed his eyes. There is no emotion, there is peace, he repeated, the mantra echoing in his mind. Before long, his racing heart had settled down.

He stood to his feet. As he did, a woman with silvery-gray hair and pale skin came over. "Cal, are you OK?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'm fine, Merrin. I… I had a vision from the Force just now. Can you gather the others for me?"

"Sure," Merrin said…

A few minutes later, Cal was onboard the Mantis. Sitting at the couch, he recognized the faces of everyone before him. "Is everyone here?" he asked.

"Everyone's here, Cal," Greez said. "Now, what's with the long face?"

"I… had a vision from the Force," Cal said.

"What was in the vision?" Merrin asked.

"I… I saw a woman that I've worked with before, Jyn Erso, being tortured. She was calling for me to save her. Then I saw a city where everyone was wearing masks, from the lowliest citizen, to the richest landlord, as well as a gas giant. I then saw a planet with dark brown continents, white clouds and blue seas. I also saw… I saw her."

"Saw who?" Merrin asked

"Cere. She told me to go to this world, and that I would find the help I need there. Since then, I've been feeling the Force pulling me there."

Everyone began whispering to each other. "Daw, shit!" Greez grumbled. "I know those planets."

"You do?" Cal asked.

"Yep. The first of those planets is Genaris. I've been there before, specifically the city of Dentarr. Among smugglers and pirates alike, it's known as the 'City of Masks.'"

"Why?" Merrin asked.

"Everyone there wears a mask to keep their identities hidden. Lots of grudges in the criminal underworld, and it pays to keep people from knowing what you look like. I've known whole groups of people that hide even their bodies just to avoid being seen. Plus, you have to pay a permit to even do business in that city, and that's a very hefty sum."

"Why did you go there in the first place?" Kata asked

"I did some business there once," Greez said. "It's how I got the Mantis in fact." He sighed. "Still, word to the wise. If you go there, make sure you're ready for a fight. Genaris, and especially Dentarr, is the hub of trade in the criminal underworld. They sell just about everything there, from weapons and explosives, to exotic creatures."

"We'll keep that in mind," Cal decided. "And the other planet?"

"That's Pantora. I've been there on a few trips. The people there are really nice and kind, but that's where I'm concerned."

"Because?" Cal asked.

"You remember that broadcast that was shown across the galaxy?"

Cal nodded. "I do. When I saw the broadcast, I felt a disturbance through the Force. For a minute, and this might sound crazy, for a minute I could hear music, like an band and choir was signing. The Force also seemed… ecstatic and overjoyed for some reason, but there was also a hint of dread and foreboding as well."

"I felt it too," Merrin said. "Whatever is going on, it's clear that the arrival of this 'UNSC' from another galaxy means something big is going to happen. We will have to be cautious."

"And they might be at Pantora," Greez added. "If I were a guy from another galaxy, that would be the perfect place to set up shop. It's isolated, out in the boondocks, and it has little value to the Empire. I've heard rumors that the UNSC's set up shop there, but you know how little I trust rumors."

"Then that's where we need to go," Cal decided. "Greez, you think you can take us there?"

"Pppfftt, definitely," Greez mumbled. "The question is, are they gonna fill us with bullets when we get there? You see the footage? Those guys are no joke."

"I know," Cal said. "Even the Force screamed a warning when I saw them. Still, I believe that they might help us get to Jyn, if she's really there. As strong as my connection to the Force is, I'm not stupid or arrogant enough to think I can rescue her on my own. We'll need help, and a lot of it."

"All right," Greez said. "I'll take you there. Just be ready."

"We will be," Merrin said. "May the Force be with us."

Cal nodded. Hang in there, Jyn, he said. I'm coming as soon as I can.