Drugs and Some Space Stuff

by Christian Heg

It is a period of Cold War in the Galaxy! Palpatine is dead, and the New Republic has defined its borders. What's left of the Empire has consolidated into The Empire of the Hand, and has chosen to leave the New Republic alone. However, not all is well in the Galaxy. Crime, espionage, and relics from the era of Palpatine shake up the galactic scene in both small and large ways.

Drugs And Some Space Stuff

By Christian Heg

It has been seven years since the Galactic Empire's crippling defeat at Endor, but all is not well in the galaxy. The fledgling New Republic has failed to live up to the expectations given to it by the Rebel Alliance. Corruption, crime, and drug use are at an all time high. The flame of rebellion is extinguished, and the New Republic struggles to renew faith in its citizens.

Meanwhile, the imperial Grand Admiral Thrawn has annexed many of the galaxy's industrial worlds and unified them under a new banner, The Empire of the Hand. Although this new Empire is not yet openly hostile to the New Republic, peace lies on a razor's edge.

Oblivious to this galactic turmoil, a "simple farmer" living in the New Republic's capital world of Chandrilla attempts to make a delivery.

The Big Leagues

Jaeleno watched the rain come down in thick layers, casting a gloomy haze over the chrome shopping mall. Had it been a clear morning, like the weather forecast had predicted, he would have made his delivery an hour ago. The rain had messed with his speeder's sensors, and he had to navigate all the way from the countryside via eyesight. It had been a treacherous drive.

James P. Abercrombie sat beside Jaeleno. Abercrombie barely stood above two feet tall, and he struggled to see over the dashboard. His eyes were small yet intelligent, and he had two large, floppy ears that were great at eavesdropping on conversations. Every turn made by the speeder sent a spark of fear through him. Jaeleno was a reckless driver at default, in the rain he was a total menace. On one occasion, Abercrombie had to jump on the wheel to prevent a rollover. Something that would have exposed them, and, more importantly, their cargo to both the rain and prying eyes. "See I told you we'd get here in one piece!", exclaimed Jaeleno. "Here comes the hard part".

The wet pavement shone a sickly purple, illuminated by a vibrant neon sign on the edge of an expansive chrome strip mall. The shadows of towering skyscrapers were visible in the distance, contrasted against the rolling storm clouds. The neon sign read Wusha's Paradise. On the sign, a pair of slug-like hutts (one white, and one purple) made the yin-yang symbol. Jaeleno checked there was nobody parked around them and picked up his speeder's encrypted comm set. "My feet are sore and I need some me-time. Is anyone at home?" Immediately, the front doors slid open. Jaeleno cracked a con-man's smile, and James tried not to be sick. Just inside of the sliding crystal doors, barely illuminated by the lights inside, sat Mutsa-Wusha.

Mutsa-Wusha was a hutt, but simply calling her a hutt did not do justice to describe her girth. She barely fit through her own doors, and loomed over the delivery speeder. Mama-Wusha had a back the color of old grape cough syrup and a flamingo pink belly that went all the way up to her gargantuan mouth. She held the two beings in the delivery truck with fluorescent, magenta eyes and took a deep whiff of the air. She smelt excitement on the human, and the little lizard monkey next to him reeked of fear. "The confidence and the brains are sold separately for this package". Mama Wusha mused to herself as she opened an umbrella and slithered out into the rain.

"Aren't you two the most precious little morsels!" exclaimed Mutsa-Wusha. "I'll open up the garage in the back. Y'all follow me". In surprising speed for a hutt, she slithered around the strip mall and typed a passcode into a garage opener. The Sobayaki Farm's delivery speeder promptly pulled in. With a single "Schluppp" Mutsa-Wusha crawled in behind them, leaving a trail of mucus freshly lathered up by the rain. Abercrombie saw the last bit of natural light disappear from outside the garage door and felt even more nauseous. They were trapped in the back garage of a strip mall. If they died, this would be the last place for anyone to check! All around them, Twi'leks, Quarren, and other alien "spa workers" stood watching them. The assortment of firearms on their hips all too noticeable.

The speeder had not even settled to the ground before Jaeleno was outside addressing Mutsa-Wusha and the crowd. "Good lads and lasses, I am Jaeleno Sobayaki. Some of you might know me from The Sobayaki winery and farm. If you don't, you do now" (lifting a box of Sobyaki Farms made wine out of the speeder's trunk) "First, let me thank the mistress of the house, who so graciously accepted my request for a joint business venture. Oh Mutsa-Wusha the profundity of your beauty is not rivaled by the cosmos themselves." James P. Abercrombie cringed inwardly as Jaeleno continued. "I was a regular of this establishment long before I learned that you all are multi professional… professionals. What I offer is a business partnership. Sobayaki farms will provide you with the highest quality "under the table" products that can be distributed on this planet, maybe the galaxy." During this last sentence, Jaeleno held up a Fluffff egg, an extremely powerful hallucinogen and Sobayaki Farms specialty. "First one's on the house, along with the wine, of course."

Mutsa-Wusha leaned down and scooped up the wine and hard drugs from the back of the speeder. With surprising grace. With a pinkie up, she shoveled four crates of edibles into her mouth and washed it down with a bulk container of wine. After depressing her eyes to swallow, she looked Jaeleno and Abercrombie up and down. "My dear honeysuckles", she said with a smile. "Your proposal sounds right as rain!"

Sobayaki Farms

Whenever Jaeleno Sobayaki gets a gut feeling, he tends to be right. It was this gut feeling that told Jaeleno to take over his dad's rotting farm instead of selling it. It was this gut feeling that encouraged Jaeleno to cultivate the bliss weed that infested his father's fields instead of reporting it to the environmental agency. It was this Gut feeling that told him to buy an incredibly well read lizard monkey. Most importantly, it was this gut feeling that told Jaeleno to pursue a business venture with Mutsa-Wusha.

James P. Abercrombie was the complete opposite. His gut instincts were intrinsically bad, and he always second guessed himself. He was born in a Chandrillan pet store and was sold to a professor of Law at the capital's college. For seven years, Abercrombie listened to the professor's lectures from his cage, learning all the exploits of intergalactic policy. When the professor died, Abercrombie took his late master's name for himself and broke out of the college. Barely a day passed before he was apprehended by animal control and put into a pound. Abercrombie was smart, but try as he might, he could not form the syllables needed to speak Galactic Basic. His garbled chirping made him highly suspect to the vets, who thought he was rabid. Therefore, James P. Abercrombie was to be sent to the euphemization clinic. The day before he was to be transferred, Jaeleno had adopted him (going as far as bribing the vet to get him off of the execution block). At that very spot, James P. Abercrombie swore his services to the farmer Jaeleno Sobayaki.

(several weeks after the business proposal with Mutsa Wusha)

The pastoral view from the front yard of the Sobayaki farmhouse was truly a sight to behold. The field stretched for miles westwards, hidden from the gravel road by a double row of willow trees. Several hundred yards from the house stood the old barn. A red, concrete and wood structure that required nearly constant maintenance. Behind the barn was a row of five huge silos, giving the appearance of a heavy turbo laser battery. Of course they weren't. That would have been too obvious. Jaeleno's actual turbo laser was hidden in his property's stagnant pond.

To the east, a road climbed a zig zag path up to the property and curved away northwards far below the view of the farm. The entirety of Sobayaki land sat on a moraine, giving the farm and her fields a certain degree of privacy. Jaeleno's great, great, great grandfather had purchased the property for dirt cheap back when much of Chandrilla was still frontier. The downside had been the poor quality of the soil and the tendency for farming equipment to become jammed on buried rocks. Still, the land could produce profit if one knew where to look and when to act upon it.

"Moving this many shipments is too risky, even if you have a good feeling about it", said Abercrombie. A modified protocol droid's speech synthesizer hung around his neck like a chrome harmonica. It made him sound more posh and jaded than he meant to be, but it beat conveying everything through sticky notes.

"I know the risks on this one buddy", responded Jaeleno. "But we are in the big leagues now. You saw how Mutsa-Wusha gobbled up an entire shipment herself. You may not get the implication, but I do. She expects us to move the product in bulk. If we stop moving in bulk, we no longer turn a profit. That means we become liabilities. Then, the bounty hunters start showing up… Did you get the eggs I asked for?"

"And you don't get the implications of moving so much material so rapidly!" Abercrombie said, passing Jaeleno a basket of Fluffffff eggs. "Sobayaki farms is a pleasure ranch at best. A place for people to carve gourds and feed nerfs. Suddenly having a fleet of delivery speeders doesn't make sense with our income level. It will draw eyes. Lots of them."

Abercrombie was right of course. Chandrilla was having an incredibly wet fall. Farmers who had sunk fortunes into cultivating crops during the placid spring and summer suddenly found themselves with ruined harvests and buried in debt. Buying a ton of new delivery speeders would look suspect, not to mention there would need to be an explanation for what they were actually moving.

"I got a plan, Abercrombie!" Exclaimed Jaeleno "That's why I called you out here. See, I may have made some business decisions without your consent".

"What!" Shouted Abercrombie. This was made all the more bitter sounding coming from the synthesizer. "That's my one condition sir. I need to know what's going on, otherwise I can't plan for when things go wrong".

"Ahh, but you never think outside the box my dear Abercrombie. And if something goes wrong, I'm sure you'll figure out a solution."

"But"

"Ahh, she's here."

The sound of tires could be heard chewing up the gravel road. Beyond the row of willow trees, huge plumes of thermal reactor exhaust were drifting skywards. Then, around the corner, came a Juggernaut heavy transport. "If you're thinking about buying that, it's well outside our price limit." Said Abercrombie. "My dear lizard monkey, I'm not buying the truck", responded Jaeleno. "I'm buying what's in the truck".

The ten wheeled hauler grinded to a stop. Its hydraulic brakes hissing like a great Dragon Snake. 15 feet above the ground, the driver's hatch opened, and a service ladder extended. Two figures slowly climbed out of the cabin. They were both female, but were of different species. One was a Twi'lek with blue skin, mahogany eyes, and a black anaconda pattern going down the two fleshy tails at the back of her head. The symbol for the rebellion (sloppily changed to new republic colors) was tattooed on her chest in a not so subtle way. Jaeleno also noticed a small, crescent shaped birthmark on her jaw as he looked over her face. The other one was a Mimban, and as hard as Jaeleno was trying to hide it, it freaked him out. The Mimban had a scaly carapace the color of rotting pumpkin, its hands ended in dirty yellow claws, and its teeth jutted out jet black from its ajar mouth. To make matters worse, its soulless, angler fish looking eyes made it hard to determine where it was actually looking. "Here stands vice and virtue", mumbled Jaeleno. He picked up the basket of eggs and walked towards them.

A field demotion

(Contested Imperial territory, one year prior)

Rows of ambling asteroids are illuminated by the brilliant white light of a Neutron star. The entire belt is surrounded by a thick, white nebula, giving this remote section of space the appearance of a Hurricane's eye. The pale light also reveals the burnt out husks of several light imperial cruisers, their hulls drifting aimlessly, still glowing white hot from battle damage. Closer to the neutron star and away from the hazardous asteroid belt, two star destroyers are locked in combat. One wearing standard imperial colors and one wearing the blue war stripes of the splinter faction, The Empire of the Hand.

Maximilien de la Château gazed out of the reinforced observation deck of his flagship. His eyes burned with rage, illuminated further by the blue fire coming from his destroyer's ion cannons. Dead ahead sat their target. An older destroyer laying down a broadside volley of green turbolaser fire. The enemy warship's subsystems were crackling with lightning and her engines were sputtering out. "The Dévastation is holding at half shields sir" Said a young bridge officer nervously, "Should we press the attack?" Maximilien looked at the frightened youth and the fire drained from his eyes. "Get me in contact with Moff Perth" he said. "This has gone on long enough". The Dévastation's comms dish to the right of the bridge came to life, sending a tight signal beam to their ailing enemy.

Maximilien adjusted his collar and turned on the hologram. This projected a morbidly obese imperial Moff. His vest was unbuttoned and he was bleeding badly from multiple puncture wounds in the gut. Behind him, the hologram depicted the outlines of engineering officers attempting to stop electrical fires that had consumed their equipment. The rotund figure was the first to speak. "So, the false emperor sends his errand boy to bring me down again. Do not think I am afraid of a backwater admiral like you Château. I was appointed Moff by Palpatine himself!"

The fire returned to Maximilen's eyes. "Emperor Palpatine died choking on his own incompetence. Seems only fitting that you have followed his example for so long. Your engines are down, your shields are down, your life support is failing. Surrender now! Save yourself and your crew."

"I will not be defeated by the likes of you filth! I will sacrifice everything before I give up what is rightfully mine."

Maximilien stared at the disgusting man for several moments, the fire once again building in his eyes. He gave a slight hand gesture to his gunnery captain and turned back to admiral Perth. "I believe you," he said coldly. Two bolts of turbolaser fire shot off from the Dévastation's forward casemate. As it flew towards the command bridge of Perth's destroyer, the man could be seen turning pale through the hologram. "You disgraceful fu….." The hologram went to static. The enemy ship's command bridge let out a massive, ruby colored explosion, giving the appearance of a blossoming flower. After several minutes, the turbolaser fire from the enemy died down, and a shuttle exited its hangar, setting a course for the Dévastation.

"Sir, should we engage the shuttle", asked the gunnery captain. "No" said Maximilien "I know who it is. Have the hanger crew ready for an emergency landing. Also, prepare a boarding party of our own. I want survivors secured and Perth's destroyer restored to operational status. They shouldn't give much resistance, but send in an escort of death troopers just in case. You have the deck captain." And with a mocking salute to his vanquished foe, admiral Maximilien de la Château exited the command bridge to meet an old friend.

Another happy landing

Maximilian strode into the busy hanger, invoking a salute from the nearest flight crews. Damage control teams were busy putting out burning tie fighters and repairing the hanger's deflector shield. Before committing suicide via incompetence, Perth had sent all his bombers to destroy the Dévastation's ventral reactor. Maximilian's cruisers and tie fighters had intercepted most of them, but a single bomber had kamikazed into the hangar, causing more damage than Maximilian would have liked. It was particularly concerning because the aircraft handling equipment (the tractor beam and exterior docking crane) had been knocked out of order. If the incoming shuttle was damaged as badly as Maximilian suspected, it would be a very rough landing.

"Have flight crews clear the deck for an emergency landing" Maximilian told an officer. Outside the blue hue of the hanger's ray shield, the outline of the shuttle could be seen coming in hot, smoke trailing from its starboard engine. "You fool! Reduce your speed!" Maximilian thought to himself, but it was of no use. The shuttle struck the roof of the exterior hangar entrance, losing its dorsal fin in the process. Then, it ricocheted off towards the internal hangar. The shuttle's port fin chipped off and embedded itself in the flight deck's floor while the main body skidded across the hangar. The shuttle's head crumpled and the cockpit's glass broke as it cracked against the far wall. Immediately, damage control teams were putting out additional fires and security droids were prying open the shuttle's doors to rescue survivors. Maximilian ran to the scene. The damage was bad, but he prayed it was only superficial. Upon seeing the admiral on deck, the two security droids redoubled their efforts and successfully pried down the shuttle's bent landing ramp. The interior was charred and a red warning light was flashing. Suddenly, a blue figure emerged from the cockpit. Her knee was bent at an odd angle, she had a black eye, and her anaconda patterned tails were covered in blue blood from a wound on her forehead. "Another happy landing," Vivian said. She took a step forwards and promptly fell flat on her face.

I lie, therefore I am

(20 minutes before the battle - onboard Perth's destroyer)

Vivian Veronica did not particularly enjoy space. She avoided looking out the windows of spacecraft, and often stuck to the interior decks. Nonetheless, Admiral Maximilian had convinced her to take basic flight training. Something she certainly did not regret now. She would need it if she was going to exit Peth's destroyer alive. Just as Vivian was transmitting the location of Perth's fleet, the big man himself rounded the corner and snarled at her. "Miserable creature! I thought I told your kind to restrict your movements to the kitchens and breeding pens!"

"Ohh goodness! Vivian said", feigning shock and surprise. She backed forcefully away from Perth and intentionally crushed the wall mounted transmitter with her shoulder blade. "You surprised me cap'n" she said, putting on the best dopy accent she could. "I had gone and gotten lost in this big ol' ship. Perhaps you could help me find mah way back to mah room." While saying this, Vivian tugged at her slave gown, exposing more of her chest. Perth started sweating milk beads, saying, "I'm sure something can be arranged". He grabbed Vivian by the shoulder and, accompanied by two stormtroopers, led her to a remote bathroom in the belly of the ship.

Vivian was a Twi'lek, and a good looking female by all accounts. She was born on Ryloth during the fall of the republic, but didn't remember much of it other than throwing pebbles at a battle droid and receiving blaster fire in return. When the empire took hold of her planet, vast swaths of the population were forced into slave labor. This was when she became good at lying. Whenever a collection agent came to her house and asked why she wasn't working, she would say something like she was recovering from a twisted ankle or that she was owned by some other imperial officer. If the collections agent insisted, she would offer "specialized services" to get them off her back. During these "special services" she learned things, with no small amount of help from drugs and small talk. She heard quite a bit during the early years of the Empire.

There were rebel agents on Ryloth, and at first she made a regular habit of giving them intel. The imperial guard rotations were sloppy and she could easily sneak recordings past them. She was happy to do her part and idolized the rebellion, especially captain Hera Syndulla, who was a Twi'lek like herself and was rumored to be the best star pilot in the galaxy. Reality caught up with her soon enough.

She had given the location of certain imperial fuel reserves to the rebels and was elated to see they had been blown up by "terrorist insurgents" on the news. This joy faded when her village was rounded up into a courtyard. Moff Perth (who was responsible for Ryloth) climbed on top of an elevated platform in the center of town. His second chin jiggled as he talked. "I know that one of you mewling wretches gave intel to the rebellion, and to prove that I'm serious…" Two stormtrooper stepped onto the platform. They were carrying a badly beaten rebel spy. The same spy Vivian had talked to the night prior. Perth resumed his tirade. "Thus far he has refused to talk. "I'd like to spark his memory". The stormtroopers in the town started to round up all the men and those who resisted were beaten with tazing batons. The Women were herded back away from the town square. Looking down at the rebel spy, Perth continued. "You tell me who gave you the information, or I will kill every single one of these bucks. You know they mean nothing to me." The rebel remained silent. A minute passed, then two. Vivian felt faint. She wanted to say something, but worried the situation would become worse if she did. After all, Perth postured frequently. Most imperials did.

On the third minute, Perth rolled his eyes, and nodded at the stormtrooper captain. The stormtroopers raised their blasters and unloaded into the men. Their aim was bad, but it was impossible to miss at such a close range. The smell of charred flesh and ozone filled the air, and all the town's men fell to the grounds. Amongst them was Vivian's father. Vivian's screams of lament mingled amongst the other women. "Now I will kill the females unless you tell me what you know, rebel slime" purred Perth, putting a blaster to the back of the rebel's head. Vivian saw the rebel was looking directly at her. Tears were streaming down his face, but he remained silent. Perth didn't wait as long this time. "Looks like you really don't have anything to say. Ahh well, this was a fun distraction", said Perth as a blaster bolt entered the rebels head and exited through his jaw. Vivian was still alive, along with the other women, but she would never forgive herself for not stepping forwards that day.

The years that followed were a blur. Vivian started taking different forms of bliss weed to forget her troubles. Two times, her older sister had to resuscitate her from overdoses, and both times Vivian asked to be left to die. "That's a coward's way out" her sister would always reply. Vivian still eloped with her captors, and she still learned things. She caught wind of projects like the Executor and the Endor Pipeline, but these secrets never found their way from her mouth to rebel ears. Ryloth was becoming more and more choked out by the Empire's claws until there was practically no rebel presence on the planet whatsoever. Each night (or at least when she was not stoned seven ways to hell), Vivian sat on her roof, waiting for a rebel fleet to appear overhead. It never did.

In the same year the second Death Star blew up, Perth had his men round up as many Twi'leks as possible onto slave ships and into his personal Star destroyers. Vivian didn't remember it well because she was regularly stoned, but this was when her sister had been had been brought to one of the imperial installations herself, but had been quickly recognized as a junkie and returned to her village (or dumped in the mud outside of it, rather). Whatever the imperials were doing, she was too washed out to be of any use to them.

More and more of her people were gathered up by the imperials. Entire families started to disappear, then entire villages. Vivian had spent these months secluded, going from one high to another. On occasion, she went outside to lay a flower on the mass grave the stormtroopers had dug for the village. Both the rebel spy and her father were buried there. Time passed in a blurr and she became the only one left to visit them.

Vivian had been preparing an injection of concentrated bliss one morning (It was actually the last of her stockpile) when she looked up and noticed a spread line of star destroyers and other capitol ships in the sky along the western horizon. They were parallel to Perth's orbital defense space stations, and were launching their stores of tie fighters. These ships were unusual. She knew the look of star destroyers well. After all, they were the vessels that ripped her people from their homeworld. These ships were different. They seemed thicker and wider. Their underbellies were painted with pairs of twisting, blue snakes. Suddenly, blue fire lit up the sky. These new ships were engaging the orbital platforms! Turbolaser towers across Ryloth's Surface were now opening fire, but were systematically being taken out by precision strikes from blue clad tie bombers. Many of Perth's star destroyers being refitted in the planet's dry docks were now on fire. Their laser batteries rendered useless from ion bombs. Vivian rushed to her basement, locked the door, and injected the bliss.

Vivian didn't recall passing out, but she did recall waking up. Light shone in from outside, and illuminated a soldier in black armor. He took off his gas mask and shouted, "We've got a survivor!" Vivian was carried to a medical tent bearing the same symbol of the two snakes. Overhead, one of the new destroyers hovered solemnly. It was close enough for her to read the ship's name. Dévastation. She was left on a bunk amongst several other wounded Twileks and promptly passed out again. When she woke up, a human nurse was attending her. Vivian bombarded the nurse with questions, particularly regarding her sister, but received no response. Suddenly the nurse looked up past Vivian's shoulder and gave a quick salute. Vivian turned around and saw a man wearing a white commodore's uniform. It looked like he had been freshly cut across the forehead, and his right hand was in a brace. The man met her gaze and began walking towards her bunk. He addressed her directly, his voice betraying a hint of guilt and pain. "My name is Maximilien de la Château, and I assure you, Ryloth will never suffer as it has again."

The Reckoning

( 5 minutes before the battle - Perth's destroyer)

The huffing of Moff Perth echoed across the walls as he speed walked deeper into the star destroyer. "Tell maintenance crews to evacuate the restroom in sub reactor level two" he told one of his stormtroopers. "I need that space more than them". Vivian watched a mouse droid scurry in front of them. During the two months she had spent as a spy on this cursed ship, there was no more dangerous adversary than a mouse droid. They had a habit of scurrying around the corner at the worst times, and she had become well practiced at shooting the little automatrons before they scrambled off. She was even better at finding places to dispose of their little bodies. "Here we are," said perth. As they stood in front of an engineering level bathroom. He turned to the two stormtroopers. "Stand guard, but do not enter unless I give the order." The stormtroopers gave a sloppy salute and said "Yes Sir" out of unison. Perth gave a longing gaze at Vivian. "Let's have ourselves some fun, little doe".

Vivian had been keeping track of the time that passed since she sent Perth's coordinates to Maximilian's fleet. The nearest hyperspace route would take them 15 minutes. She wasn't particularly concerned what Perth would do to her in the bathroom, she was more concerned with keeping him as far away from the bridge, and as distracted from his transmitter as possible. If he got spooked now, and jumped the destroyer into hyperspace, that would be years of planning down the drain.

While Perth was busy, she was formulating a plan to deal with the stormtroopers. Perth carried a blaster (likely the same chrome plated one he used to kill the rebel so many years ago). She would take it off him and use it to dispatch the troopers. As for Perth, he didn't deserve such mercy of a quick death. Vivian's mental timer was nearing zero, but Peth was making it difficult. She wished he would do his business quietly, but it wasn't in his personality. Vivian had reached zero just as perth exclaimed "By Palpatine's holy face!" That was when the alarms sounded.

"Was is goin' on" Vivian exclaimed. "Pirates probably" Perth mumbled. "You stay here". As Perth turned around, buckling his pants, Vivian silently slid Perth's blaster from his holster. The "chink" of the blaster's safety turning off was drowned out by the destroyer's alarms. Just as Perth exited the bathroom, Vivian sent two blaster bolts into the helmets of the stormtroopers guarding the entrance. Perth had not even buttoned his shirt before Vivian was on him. He had turned around and was fumbling for a blaster he no longer had. That was when Vivian ripped out the knife she had concealed in her bodice. She jabbed three times into Perth's belly. Each time the blade connected, she could feel the slight resistance give way as the blade went through his intestines and into his Aorta. She then ran, knowing full well that savoring this moment would mean her death. She turned back and saw the evil man sitting amongst his dead stormtroopers. He was trying to get up, but kept slipping in his own blood. A smile spread across Vivian's face as she ran towards the ship's armory.

Perth's star destroyer was in bad shape. Entire decks were losing power and the artificial gravity was starting to fade. Vivian had managed to climb four decks up to the hanger by the time the lights went out. This forced her to follow the wall until she got to an exit. She would then check the interior for crewmembers. If nobody was home, she would activate the emergency power and check for supplies. She had stumbled across an empty barracks (likely belonging to the flight crew) and had put on a damage control engineer's armor. It wasn't perfectly convincing as her tails still partially jutted out from the back of her helmet, but it was a better disguise than her blood soaked slave gown. Also, the engineering helmet had a flashlight, so she could navigate to the armory faster (or as fast as could be expected in Ship's current condition).

Vivian followed service hallways (avoiding the main crew quarters) until she got to the destroyer's auxiliary hangar. Below her, rows of ATAT and ATST war machines were lined up like livestock in a barn. Suddenly, giant arcs of electricity reached out from the far side of the hangar and plunged into the armored transports, frying their systems and causing several to fall over. Further ahead, near the hangar's exit, flight crews were attempting to repair tie bombers that had been damaged by the surge of electricity. Some were just pushed out into space to make way for other fighters. She descended down a service ladder, and slipped behind a fallen ATAT. She found a freight hauler droid that had short circuited and rewired its logic core to manual. She now had something to carry weapons with. At the very end of the hangar, perhaps 100 ft behind the walkers, was the weapons depot. She pulled the hauler between her and the still active flight crews. She then set to work picking the armory's lock. It was risky, but at this point she was running out of time. Someone would find Perth soon, and he would likely order all the onboard slaves to be executed. A beep sounded and the door's status light turned green. She entered inside and was pleased to see rows of blasters still intact. As she was taking great armfuls and placing them on the hauler, a lanky security droid activated within a charging port behind her. She only noticed it when it pulled on one of her tails and punched her square in the face.

The glass on her visor shattered and a piece lodged itself in her forehead. Her vision in one eye was tinted blue as blood ran down her face and got trapped in her helmet. As the droid advanced, she drew Perth's blaster and emptied the clip into its chest. The lanky figure dropped to its knees, then hit the ground hard. There was no longer a point in wearing the helmet. Vivian took a sterile towel from a nearby medical cabinet and wrapped it around her forehead. She then activated the hauler and started running towards the detention deck.

There was no more time for caution. An execution squad would hit the detention deck any minute now. Vivian loaded a DL-15 heavy machine blaster and attached a silencer as she ran out of the armory. The hauler followed close behind her. Arcs of electricity were now traveling between the walls of the main walkways. This helped keep attention away from her. The service lifts would be down, so she went deeper into the ship looking for stairs. A stormtrooper was standing at the entrance of the service staircase. He had barely uttered "Hey" before Vivian sent a stream of plasma bolts into his helmet. His head went toppling down the stairs, leaving a trail of ash and bone. It then promptly fell between the rungs of the guardrail and made a cracking noise as it hit the ground below. Vivian hoped that the sound of combat had drowned that out.

Vivian had been sprinting for some time and had spilled a couple blasters from the hauler while making the sharp corners of the stairway. Luckily, The lights had completely gone out in this section of the Ship. Vivian took a glow stick from her engineering suit and bent it. The green light illuminated a narrow hallway ending with an armored blast door. Beside the door, a plaque read "Brig". Vivian set the heavy blaster to single fire mode and melted a hole through the center of the door. She then reached her arm through and hit the door's control panel from the inside. The doors opened, revealing a group of 200 or so Twi'leks who sat cowering in the darkness. When they saw her face, one of the men asked in a hushed tone, "Are you with the Rebellion?" Vivian shook her head. "No, but I'm with people that want to help you." as she distributed blasters to the group. She looked the room over. There were a couple tables that had been flipped over for cover. Besides the lights going out, nobody appeared to have been hurt. She handed the group the remainder of her glow sticks and distributed the weapons amongst the people that seemed most able. "Anybody not wearing blue aims to kill you. A rescue party will come for you soon". And with that, she started sprinting back towards the hanger.

She could have stayed with them, but the thought of waiting in darkness to potentially meet her doom didn't sit right with her. Her people weren't fighters. Their best chance was for Maximilian's rescue team to go down and secure them. She had memorized the location of their cell block and was desperate to make sure the rescue team got there quickly. When she reentered the hangar, two more of the ATATs had fallen over, exposed wires and hydraulic fluid lines gave them the appearance of gutted animals. She scanned the flight deck for usable ships. Nothing. The deck was littered with burning tie fighters and downed pilots, but there seemed to be nothing flyable. That's when she saw a service lift had yet to reach the flight deck. She looked over the edge and saw a Lambda class shuttle. "Bingo!" Vivian thought to herself. A tie fighter had fallen into the service lift, but the shuttle's deflector shields seemed to have absorbed most of the damage. Vivian looked around for the elevator's control switch and pressed the up button. Nothing happened. "Dammit!" Vivian exclaimed. She took a moment to appraise her situation, but her thinking was suddenly interrupted by a tremor going through the ship. Something important had just exploded.

Without a second thought, Vivian jumped into the service lift and onto the shuttle's wing, sliding down it. She had hoped this would break her fall, but realized too late that it wouldn't fully. She landed hard on the tie fighter wreckage and twisted her right knee. Both the impact and the jarring pain caused Vivian to bite her tongue, but she got back up, using her machine blaster as a crutch. Vivian spat out a thick glob of blue blood as she limped up the landing ramp. Once inside, she quickly retracted the ramp and sealed all outside entrance ports. She scanned the main holding bay and entered the cockpit. Good. She was alone.

Vivian crossed her fingers and activated the shuttle's control panel. The allspecs report came back mostly green. All systems were good except for the starboard engine. That had been damaged by the tie fighter wreckage. "You're still ok", Vivian reassured herself. She remembered Maximilian telling her that a medium sized ship could compensate for a damaged engine by rerouting power to the exterior repulsor field. She searched the cockpit until she found a red dial. Sure enough it displayed options to compensate for certain damaged aspects of the ship. She set it to compensate for the engine. "Ok. Easy does it", she told herself, as she pulled up on the stick.

The shuttle started to slowly rise out of the elevator. Vivian pressed the flight mode button, and felt the shuttle jerk as debris from the fallen tie fighter tumbled off the starboard wing. Vivian then looked into the cold, dark, lifeless expanse of space. "You're tough, you can do this", she mumbled to herself as she hit the accelerator.

Flying the shuttle was a lot harder than the simulations. The damaged engine made the controls unresponsive, and the ship seemed to maneuver as if it were sliding across an oil slick. She activated the ship's electronic countermeasure grid and attempted to hail the Dévastation. That's when she noticed another problem. The energy for the comms beacon had been drained, along with a slew of secondary systems. She checked the all specs display and realized the repulsor field was draining power fast. If she didn't reach the Dévastation soon, her electric countermeasures would fail, and Perth would be free to blow her ship to bits. Vivian disabled the autopilot and all other non essential systems beside the countermeasure grid. She then set the shuttle's engines to full power. The interior of the shuttle began to shower sparks. The power banks in the rear of the craft had started on fire, and a red warning light had turned on. While keeping a hand on the control stick, Vivian picked up a fire extinguisher and indiscriminately waved it back and forth towards the rear compartment. The shuttle was down to 40% power.

She was approaching the Dévastation too fast, but there was only so much she could do in the damaged shuttle. Vivian shunted power to the port engine, then pulled hard on the stick and attempted to make a drifting maneuver to shed momentum. For a terrifying second, she thought she was going to miss the hanger altogether, but a sudden bang interrupted her thoughts. Vivian had drifted right into the roof of the Dévastation's hanger and had been sent careening towards the flight deck. She could see the terrified faces of service crews looking up at her as she hurtled at them. Luckily, they were all able to jump out of the way in time. The same could not be said for the far hanger wall which stood steady like a cliffside. Vivian closed her eyes, listening to the ear splitting screech of the shuttle grinding against the hanger floor. Then came a deafening crash and Vivian hit her head hard on the control panel.

Vivian lifted herself off the control panel and rubbed her bruised head. She heard the rear of the shuttle ripping open, and looked behind her towards the open landing ramp. There stood a collection of blue clad officers and two cobalt security droids. Amongst them, covered in soot, was admiral Maximilian De La Château. For the first time in several months, Vivian felt relief. With a broad smile stretching over her face she got up and sarcastically exclaimed "Another happy landing". That was when she remembered that her leg was badly broken. She stumbled to the ground.

"Get a medical team over here!" Maximilian shouted across the hangar. He rushed over to Vivian and looked over her injuries. "You look like hell agent Veronica", Maximilian said as a med team walked up the warped shuttle ramp with a stretcher. Vivian smiled, exposing her blood caked teeth. "Wow, straight to the brutal truth Admiral?" She said with a grin. "I thought the standard medical policy was to console and distract?" Maximilian smirked, but his eyes were still full of concern. "It becomes difficult to follow that procedure when the one being consoled can see every white lie thrown her way."

"Fair point", Vivian responded with pain in her voice. The medics fastened her to the stretcher. "I do have a real condoleance though", Maximilian said. "Perth was the final Loyalist warlord, or at least the last one with any notable power. We did it Vivian, we won."

"Oh, don't tempt fate like that, sir."

"You're right. There is still much work for both of us. But first, we need to mend your wounds."

Vivian was about to respond, but stiffened when she saw one of the medics prepare a pain reliever. "I don't need pain medication", she said. There was a shadow of desperation carried in her voice. The medic looked confused. "Once shock wears off, you'll be in a lot of discomfort", he answered. "Don't", Vivian said again. Her voice was more pleading now. "Obey her wishes, but I want her to make a full recovery", Maximilian ordered the medics. A grin spread over his face as he turned back to Vivian (who was being carted off the shuttle). I'll need you ready for another mission.

Farmer's Breakfast

(Present - Chandrillian Capitol Building)

Jaeleno didn't like going behind Abercrombie's back, but he knew the lizard monkey would never agree to such a drastic measure. The endless rain had done a number on their legitimate crops, and the storage rooms for the illegitimate bliss were starting to become waterlogged. If they wanted to make a profit this year, they would have to sell their product fast.

He had found a potential answer with the two who now stood in front of him. Jaeleno had first seen the Twi'lek while reviewing his speeder's security footage from the night he had made a deal with Mutsa-Wusha. She was standing behind the far end of the strip mall and had fled the moment the speeder entered the garage. Jaeleno thought she was a cop or a detective, so he cross referenced her face with a list of the District's officers. Nothing came up. Jaeleno then plugged in a software system that Abercrombie had developed. It was designed to discreetly access Chandrillan birth records, immigration files, and criminal files to develop a profile for potential clients. He enhanced a frame taken from the security cam footage and sent it through the program. The system gave him back a profile of one Vivian Veronica. She was labeled as a refugee from Ryloth and had only been on Chandrila for five months. By all accounts, she was a nobody. Regardless, a nobody could still squeal to the cops if it meant they got a reward.

A week had passed without incident and Jaeleno had started to disregard the problem. He was in his delivery speeder selling breakfasts at the capital's farmer's market. After he was done here, he would make a couple deliveries to his more regular clients, along with Wusha's Paradise. It was an hour till closing time when he heard the customer service bell ring. "Sobayaki farms! Severing up the freshest breakfast you have ever …". Standing outside with her hands crossed and a slight smile upon her lips, stood the Twi'lek. "I'll take a farmer's breakfast without the onions", She said, "I'd also like to speak to the owner of Sobayaki farms."

The weather was nice for once, and the wind carried the scent of bacon from Jaeleno's speeder. The sound of rushing water emanated from the fountain they were sitting next to, and squeals of excitement echoed from a playground a couple blocks away. Every Saturday, the local farmers would enter the city and set up shop near the capitol building. The yard around the towering, marble Capital gave plenty of room for the farmer's market, but they all knew that setting up too close to the actual building would yield a ticket or worse. "This is really good", Vivian said between bites of her omelet. "That's because it's fresh", Jaeleno said with a smile, fingering his boot to make sure his loaded scattergun had not slipped out. Vivian's smile died a little bit, but she resumed eating her omelet. "The way I understand it, you have certain clients who have non restricted access to that building." Vivian pointed to the Capital with her fork. "Perhaps", Jaeleno responded. "Sobayaki farms is quite popular".

"I would like you to introduce me to them", Vivian said. Her face was dead serious.

"At the risk of sounding cliché, what makes you think I need another farmhand", inquired Jaeleno.

"Well, you're understaffed, you're rapidly losing money, and your neighbors are starting to suspect you. Did you think you were the only one to have done their research?"

Jaeleno dropped the old rural charm. "What do you want?" he asked dryly.

" Like I said, I want you to introduce me. I want to be part of your enterprise".

"And what can you bring to the table. I'm not even going to ask why you want to get into the Capitol so badly."

"This is what I have to offer", Vivian said, passing Jaeleno a sealed envelope as she got up. Jaeleno looked down at the envelope and back up at Vivian. She was gone. After returning to his speeder and sealing the door, Jaeleno carefully opened the envelope. Inside was 600,000 credits. More money than Jaeleno had ever seen in one spot before. "Vivian my dear.", said Jaeleno, "Welcome to Sobayaki team".

More than a farmer

His entire life, Jaeleno Sobyaki had moments where his gut told him to do something and he followed it instead of reason. Even when he was young, he was always able to win purely on luck when he and his friends played Sabac. He still performed regular labor around the farm, something no amount of luck could avoid, but his mysterious and unfailing fortuity had kept his childhood enjoyable. He just kept following his gut and it never failed him … until it did. Jaeleno wanted to leave Chandrilla and study chemistry at Corellia. He wanted to rise above the level of a farmer and see the galaxy. However, his blessed luck seemed to have left him the moment he exited his planet's atmosphere. He had passed the entrance exam to the academy easily when he took it on Chandrila, but tests of similar caliber felt impossible to him at Corellia. Jaeleno had saved up readily for tuition, but the civil war started and the price of schooling inflated heavily. Jaeleno did start trying then. He worked harder studying at Corellia than he had done for anything before. He went to late review sessions with his professors, did lab assistant work, and started buying additional study books on credit. During Jaeleno's final year, he received a note stating that his father had passed away. This devastated Jaeleno and his grades fell back into oblivion. He did graduate, but was not nearly at the top of his class. This meant that his outlook for professions on Corellia were limited to the realm of sanitation and lower class engineering, much of which was harder work and less pay than he had received as a farmer. He also faced the risk of conscription, a threat that he had largely been immune to in rural Chandrila. With this in mind, Jaeleno spent what money he had left on a shuttle ride back home.

Jaeleno returned to a farm that had been empty for two years. The fields were jungles of weeds, the barn's roof was caving in, and the house had major water damage. By the look of things, nobody had come to care for the place after his father passed, not even the Mauritius family, who Jaeleno's father claimed to be friends with. This brought tears to Jaeleno's eyes. His father always helped their neighbors, often at personal expense. Now that his father was gone, the farm had been abandoned as if his father and his deeds had never existed. "No", Jaeleno said "I'm not going to let that happen to us." Jaeleno spent that year cleaning up the property and doing what he could to repair the house and barn. His craftsmanship skills were adequate, but there was never enough money, not with his university debt bearing down on him. He needed more.

Jaeleno had been mowing the property's field of weeds when his gut feeling returned to him. It had not felt it for years, not since he left to Corellia. He turned off his mower and looked around. At the edge of the field, between the soil and the treeline, was a broad, leafy shrub. Jaeleno took off a leaf and smelt it. The gut feeling got stronger until it almost felt like a stomach ache. Jaeleno knew what the leaf was, and why his intrinsic gift had led him to it. It was a massive bliss leaf, the raw component of the powerful Fluffffff hallucigen. He looked to the sky and swore, "Whatever money I can make off this, I will use to repair and improve the farm. Dad, I promise you that Sobyaki farms will become the pride of Chandrilla!"

Many years passed, and Sobyaki farms did become renowned throughout the region for good wine, giant pumpkins, and entertaining fall festivities, but Jaeleno was never able to turn a profit without selling Flufffff eggs. Getting Abercrombie had brightened up the place, but Jaeleno still felt like he was caught in some economic limbo. Then, he met Vivian. When he first saw her, his intrinsic sense had flared up like it had never done so before. Whenever she looked at him, it felt like the world had come to peace and everything would be ok. He had suppressed this during their first meeting at the farmer's market, but it gnawed at him until he couldn't take it anymore. One way or another, he was going to get Vivian to stay.

Hired Labor

(Sobayaki Farm)

Jaeleno strode towards the long hauler with a put on confidence. As he approached, Vivian smiled, but the Mimban remained emotionless. "A pleasure to be doing business with you two. Quite a pleasure!" Jaeleno said in a disingenuously positive tone. "Vivian, would you mind introducing your friend here. I don't recall seeing her handsome face last we met." Before Vivian could open her mouth, the creature responded, "Kringa Oorlok, and it pleases me to work for the Sobayaki farms." The Mimban gave what could have passed for a smile and continued. "I once picked pumpkins here when I was a kid. When I heard you were hiring, I couldn't pass up the opportunity". Despite Kringa's appearance, she had a smooth, buttery voice, and it flowed over Jaeleno like a spell. " Seems you got yourself a job little lady!" Jaeleno said. Abercrombie snarled silently to himself. He remembered seeing young Mimbans at his old lecture hall. They were even uglier in youth, being little better than giant maggots. He would have remembered seeing a young Mimban on the farm grounds. He also didn't like how Kringa had gotten Jaeleno to suddenly dance to her tune. Money was the only thing that had done that in the past.

Vivian eyed the basket nervously. She was half certain Jaeleno was going to pull out a machine blaster from it, so she put her hands on her hips and grasped the handle of the hand cannon in her pocket. Jaeleno must have noticed her apprehension because he stopped walking forwards and set the wooden basket on the ground. "A little gift to usher in a lucrative season" he said, taking a couple steps back. "Take a look". Vivian edged forwards and cautiously peaked over the side of the basket. Its contents made her mouth water. Inside the basket sat a clutch of Fluffff eggs. Their bliss chocolate exteriors and intoxicating aroma were no different than what she remembered. They had been her brightest light during the dark times on Ryloth.

Jaeleno saw the starved, longing gaze Vivian had fixed on the Fluffff egg. "So that's why", he thought to himself. "You're just a rich addict." Vivian tenderly set the egg back into the basket. It had taken her years of rigorous military training to fully get clean, and she wasn't about the slide back down that slope. Kringa was another story. "Payday!" She grunted, shoveling one egg after another between her coal black teeth. The spell Kringa's voice had worked over Jaeleno faded as he saw the bright orange bliss caramel ooze out between the disgusting creature's teeth. "Glad to see you're enjoying yourself", Jaeleno said without a hint of actual warmth. "Now. What's in the truck?"

The loading elevator of the Juggernaut slowly descended, making a tangible whining sound as it approached the ground. Packed tight together within the elevator sat crate after crate of old B1 battle droids. They were all painted orange with white stripes on their chest, giving them the appearance of construction cones. Vivian turned around and gave Jaeleno another smile. Further down the field, Abercrombie was hopping over to take a look. "You said you had a distribution problem. Here is my solution." Jaeleno looked over the stationary droids. "I don't know. We really didn't want to attract prying eyes. I feel war robots would definitely do that."

"The use of B1s as laborers is more common than you think. Planets like Fondor have been using them to clean up war damage for years. Besides, I bought them legitimately." Vivian pulled a bulky computer bracelet from one of the crates and strapped it to her hand. A hologram immediately fizzed into life displaying "Mauritius Heavy Workshop". "This is a real business some 40 miles away." Vivian said, looking over the droids. "I have forged receipts for purchasing these B1s along with the Juggernaut. Any paper trails will lead back to Mauritius, not us." And with a click on the computer screen, the droids started crawling out of their shipment crates.

Back in Business

( 40 miles away from the Sobayaki farms)

The town of Bampfa Run had grown large over the years thanks to the Mauritius family. What was once a dinky trading post had evolved into a bustling community with a thriving town center, ample water sports activity, and a largely crimeless community. This all could change in the blink of an eye. Dakwanz Mauritius was the most recent owner of his family's Mining business. However, it didn't perform mining anymore and was barely retaining the description of a business. The Mauritius family had found vast deposits of dunium in a mauraine roughly 40 miles to the south. Some 30 years ago, they had asked the owner of that land, Nagato Sobayaki, for permission to set up a mine. It was a success, however, that man had died more than ten years ago, and so did the future for Mauritius Mining. Sobayaki farms had gone into slight decay in the years following Nagato's death, but made a sudden resurgence when the ownership had been taken up by the old farmer's son (who was offworld when the man died). Dakwanz had stopped by to offer his condolences to the boy. The initial greeting had been fine. The son said his name was Jaeleno and that he had been studying abroad at the Corellian institute of chemistry. They had chatted for hours over the dinner Dakwanz had brought, but the conversation grew steadily darker. It started when Dakwanz had mentioned Nagato's contract with the mining company. Almost immediately, Jaeleno had told Dakwanz to move his mine off the land. Dakwanz had protested, but was left speechless when a lizard monkey hopped into the room carrying the old legal documents that Nagato had signed. Jaeleno had opened exactly to the page he needed, stating, "Sobayaki farms retains the right to moraine land in the event of an ownership change of the premises". Dakwanz had begged, offering kickbacks to Jaeleno in exchange for access to the mine. Nothing had worked.

In the years that followed, Dakwanz had to lay off many of his employees. Bampfa Run stopped growing, and slowly started to show signs of decline. Empty houses were appearing, and the local tackle shop had gone out of business. The parks and recreation department was finding it more and more difficult to maintain the popular beaches and trails. Dakwanz felt that he had let the town down.

However, Mauritius Mines had slowed down the town's regression by reorganizing into Mauritius Heavy Equipment. It had cost most of Dakwanz's savings to build, but the new business was turning a profit. Armored haulers and construction droids were in high demand across the New Republic. However, Dakwanz did not have enough money to hire back all his previous employees. He needed more, but how?

Valentine trudged along the sidewalk of mainstreet, a rain parka hastily draped over his wings and carapace. Compared to Geonosis, Valentine had enjoyed the varied biomes of Chandrila. He loved the rolling hills and endless greenery. On the other hand, he hated the rain. It weighed down his wings and caused his carapace to itch horribly. "I would have never needed to make this walk if we still had our old operation", Valentine thought to himself as he entered the Mauritius heavy equipment garage". It was exceedingly early, but the work lights were on. "Anyone home?" Valentine asked as he turned on the facility's main lights. "Valentine? Is that you?" Dakwanz shouted back. "Come here! I've got great news!"

Valentine had been the chief engineer for the Mauritius Mine. He had worked for the business for years and knew Dakwanz since the guy was a little kid. Dakwanz had always been upbeat, pursuing new ideas with a tireless determination. Having to fire so many of the old employees had dimmed that spark. This made the current excitement in Dakwanz's voice all the more welcome to Valentine, who quickly flew to the other side of the workshop. "What do you have for me?" Valentine asked. His Geonocian accent was thick but understandable. Dakwanz looked up from his workbench. An opened envelope was in his hand. "Valentine! The force just granted us the break we've been praying for. Last night, I made the best business decision since our downsizing."

"Which is?", Valentine responded.

" I was able to sell the old Juggernaut for 20 times the standard asking price. There was this wealthy Twi'lek girl who wanted to buy it off the federal record. You would not believe how long we haggled over price! I was also able to sell the juggernaut, along with the B1s well above market value!" The excitement that had overtaken Valentine quickly turned to dread. The venom spikes on his back started standing up. "Dakwanz, you just did something that could be viewed as highly illegal. A lot of people could get hurt with that equipment if it fell into the wrong hands".

"I got it covered." Dakwanz responded. I reprogrammed the droids myself. They are absolute pacifists. Nothing is going to happen"

"We can't pretend it's that simple though", responded Valentine. "What you just did, regardless of your intentions, has put the company at terrible risk."

The Fruits of our Labors

(3 ABY - Bespin System - 11 years ago)

The Dévastation quietly hovered in high orbit above Bespin. The Amber light from the gas giant below casted a warm glow over the destroyer's hull (still painted in standard imperial colors). The captain's quarters, on the other hand, were dimly lit and on complete lockdown. No light entered the cabin from the outside, and the few candles present in the room barely illuminated the three figures inside, two standing and one lying motionless on a deactivated stasis chamber. The figure on the left side of the table slowly got up and trudged out of the room, revealing that it is a high end medical droid. The other standing figure reaches down and softly grasps the hand of the body on the table.

"You would have loved it here," Maximilien de la Château murmured, barely above a whisper. "The light outside. I… it floods in through the windows and flushes the ship with warmth and light. Something that is so often lacking in space." The figure on the table is now visible. It is a woman wearing the white scrubs of an imperial surgeon. Her blond hair is spread over the table and onto her shoulders. Her hands have been folded onto her chest as if in prayer. Even in the dark light, the bruised discoloration of her neck is visible. The woman is dead.

"What I would give to have you wake, my love. All of this (gesturing to the ship around him) would be worth less than a second of your presence. My beautiful Cynthia, with you gone, the stars are dark and all that was once delicious turns to ash in my mouth. Ahhh Merde (pounding the table)! Forgive me Cynthia! For in my seat of power, I was blind, and it was not until you came back to me that I can now see!" A soft knocking is heard from the door, a voice outside saying, "Captain? We shouldn't linger here. Shall I plot a course back to Malastare?"

The Dévastation and her accompanying cruisers were supposed to be patrolling the Malastare hyperspace junction, but a message from Captain Needa of the star destroyer Pursuer had pulled Maximilian and his crew trillions of lightyears away from their post. Maximilian had left the cruisers at Malastare, but they were vulnerable without star destroyer support. Still, Needa's message seemed desperate, and they had gone to the Naval Academy together. Maximilian thought himself obliged to heed the call.

When the Dévastation reached the amber clouds of Bespin, Needa did not greet them in person. He didn't even send a hologram. Instead, a single shuttle from the Pursuer had landed in the Dévastation's hanger and had solemnly deposited an armored crate. The pilots said nothing and soon departed, leaving both the flight crews and Maximilian puzzled. The cargo container was labeled "For captain's eyes only", so it had been swiftly delivered to Maximilian's cabin. The room was emptied and Maximilian opened the crate himself. Inside was an active stasis chamber which immediately dropped the room's temperature by a couple degrees. It was sealed shut by a magnetic lock, and, set next to the opening mechanism, was a letter from Needa.

---

Captain Maximilian,

You and I both dedicated ourselves to the Empire. To preserve galactic peace and to ensure that the worlds under our watch prosper. Yet, as captains of the Emperor's fiercest dreadnoughts, the fruits of our labor have so often been that of ash and fire. Nonetheless, we bear this burden without protest. We push on through that bleak hellscape, so that the powerless may see a better future. A future that is not marred by predatory terrorists or blackened by the curse of war. A future where there is only peace, prosperity, and hope.

My dear classmate, I have brought you this as a token of our friendship, though I doubt it will remain as such upon your opening. At the very least, you deserve the truth. Much of our class is falling in battle, and the home front seems to be just as dangerous as rebel territory. I do not know how long I have before I join their numbers, so I have taken it upon myself to do some good in what little time I still have. This is a start. When you open this stasis chamber, I ask you to remember what we are fighting for. This is the darkest hour before the morning, for both of us.

My utmost condolences,

Captain Lorth Needa.

---

The code to the lock had been carefully inscribed onto the other side of the letter. Maximilian hesitantly typed it in and took a step back as the stasis chamber opened. When the super chilled vapors cleared, Maximilian fell upon the figure within and started to weep. At the end of that standard rotation, imperial intelligence had marked both captain Lorth Needa and Cynthia de la Château as killed in action.

Mothmatown

(Present - Industrial outskirts of the Chandrillain capitol)

Abercrombie looked out the window of the delivery speeder. It was a cold, overcast day, and the forecast predicted more rain later in the evening. Next to him, driving the speeder as always, was Jaeleno. He seemed to be more invested in the music blasting over the radio than the actual driving. It was a shame autopilots were banned on the smaller roads they so frequently took. In the back of the speeder sat eight B1 "construction and gardening" droids. They bobbed their heads and hummed along with the music. "Next, we have Eric Johnson with his cover of Suugan Essena", chimed the radio. "Ohh this is my jam!", shouted Jaeleno, prompting the droids in the back to all start cheering and clapping. It was not the first time Abercrombie thought he was the smartest person in the room.

The guttural rumble of Eric Johnson poured out the windows as the speeder plunged deeper into a dirty, industrial neighborhood. They passed under a makeshift sign reading "Mothmatown". In the background, breaking yards tore apart imperial star destroyers and tie fighters. The speeder pulled up to a compact house on the edge of the breaking yards. A small garden in front of the house provides some striking contrast to the rusting starships that tower nearby. The mailbox is full and the trash cans have not been emptied in a while. A speeder in a state of disrepair is in the driveway. A bumper sticker reads "I fought for the rebellion".

The moment Abercrombie turned off the radio, lofty chanting could be heard emanating from the house. "I usually come after he's done praying", said Jaeleno to the droids, "He says it builds up his appetite". With a final "Alllommm" the chanting from the house dies off, giving way to the industrial white noise coming from the scrapping yard. "So do we just wait here?", asked one of the droids. "He'll be down in a moment", responded Jaeleno, "He doesn't move that fast anymore". As if on cue, the front door of the house opened slightly before being snagged by a chain lock. The figure inside utters a couple choice curses before finally getting the door open. Then, a huge Mastiff comes running out to greet the intruders.

Abercrombie reflexively jumped on Jaeleno's shoulder as Jaeleno produced a nerf ear from his pocket. "How's it going Dadelous?" Jaeleno asks in a baby voice. He tosses the nerf ear to the other side of the yard, which Dadelous proceeds to obliterate. "My goodness he's gotten big, Yafu!", exclaimed Jaeleno. The figure steps out from inside the house, responding, "Yeah, well you guys haven't been here in a while."

To put it lightly, one would want to be on an empty stomach before paying Yafu Malik a visit. He had once been a dashing young man with expertly kept black hair, soft blue eyes, and a well formed body. He was the absolute posterboy of rebel heroism every time he donned his orange flight suit. Now, Yafu doubted he could get into his old wartime uniform, much less the tight fitting flight suit of a starfighter pilot. As he rolled (yes, rolled) out into the light, it became apparent why. He wore a loose fitting t-shirt that failed to conceal the burn marks going down his arms and ending at his neck. At his waist, he wore a broad, metallic belt with a plethora of filthy tubes going in and out of where his pelvis should have been. Taped to his right hip was an IV bag filled with a disgusting yellow-green liquid that occasionally dribbled down his leg when he moved. As for his legs, they were thin, but made from strong durasteel beams (something a buddy had given him from the breaking yards). His artificial knees bent the opposite direction of what a standard human's should, and his feet were replaced with a pair of well worn, rubber tires that had been ripped off an astromech droid. In other words, Yafu Malik had seen better days.

"Wow. This guy's like us", one of the droids said, triggering an avalanche of "Roger Rogers" from the other droids. Yafu looked the droids over before saying, "Seems to me the intel I gave you about Mutsa Wusha paid off. Where did you get the droids from?"

"A legitimate seller in Bantha Run. We used a third party to purchase them, so it's all very hush hush." Responded Jaeleno. Yafu checked up and down the road. "You all should come inside. Police patrols are getting more frequent in this stretch of Mothmatown". Jaeleno cracked a smile as the droids loaded bag after bag of "fertilizer" into the house. "Can't imagine why", he said as he closed the door behind them.

The interior of Yafu Malik's house was surprisingly clean. A small dinner table stood in the back next to a well used stove and a refrigerator. A rack of freshly washed dishes sat in the sink, and a row of exotic flowers had been placed in the window above it. Opposite of the kitchen was the living room sporting an expensive recliner ( plastic layed down to prevent grease / unnamed liquid stains) and a cabinet filled with carefully arranged medals and starfighter models. "Let me get this for you", Yafu said as he opened the medal closet and gingerly twisted the plastic astromech in a model of a Gold Squadron Y-wing. A distinct "click" sounded and Yafu pulled the entire cabinet forwards, revealing a cellar going down into pitch blackness.

"Care to test the product before we finalize the delivery?", Jaeleno asked. "You know me too well", Yafu responded as he pulled a Fluffff egg from one of the fertilizer bags. He gave it a long sniff and examined the mahogany colored exterior. Without taking his eyes off the egg, he asked, "You changing the recipe on me Sobyaki?" The droids looked at each other as Jaeleno responded. "I have more clients now Yafu. I have to make more product somehow, even if it means changing the recipe slightly. Trust me. Only true connoisseurs like yourself are able to tell the difference". Yafu gingerly set the egg back in the bag as if it were a bomb. "You don't partake of the bliss, do you Jaeleno?" Across the room, Jaeleno shook his head. "Just because I make the stuff doesn't mean I try it. Not good business." Yafu motioned for the droids to deposit the bags in the celler, and as they trudged down the steps, he continued, "I'll be able to sell this stuff in Mothmatown, but you should rectify this situation immediately. As you know, or should know by now, Most of Mutsa Wusha's clients are high end government officials. Clerks, lobbyists, even a couple senators. You should expect them to have tastes equal to or exceeding my own". After the last droid emerged from the cellar, Yafu snapped the award closet back into place and reset the astromech switch on his model. He then briskly rolled over to the fridge and pulled out a Fluffff egg from a previous delivery.

"This is why I recommended you to Mutsa Wusha, '' Yafu said. "This is the Sobayaki quality I know. If you want the big bucks to come rolling down from the heavens, you have to produce the lord's work". With that, Yafu popped the Flufffff egg into his mouth and settled into his recliner. He removed the safety bolts in his hips and took off his legs. "You all can leave now", he said. "It's never a good idea to linger on a delivery with the cops about. Your money is on the table." Abercrombie leaped from Jaeleno's shoulder, counted the credits, and hopped back. Everything looked good. "I'll make sure to give you the first pick of the new batch once I change back the recipe", said Jaeleno. Abercrombie undid the plethora of locks and opened the metal door. Just as they were about to exit, they saw something ominous. Beyond the driveway, stood two police officers, one was glaring in their general direction, the other was petting Dadelous (who was rolled over onto his back) . Abercrombie covertly slammed the door as fast as he could. "Yafu!" Whispered Jaeleno, "Have a mint and put your legs back on. We've got company!"

A fresh body

(Mothmatown Patrol Route)

It didn't matter whether the windows were up or down, Mothmatown always smelt like old reactor leakage and feces. Quietly hissing to himself, Ghaghik Lghghagh picked up his pitcher of coffee from the police speeder's cup holder. He stuck his forked tongue into the liquid and experienced a moment of sweet relief as the strong brew washed away the taste of pestilence. Ghaghik closed his eyes and imagined the honeysweet scents of Trandoshia, and how the soft melodies of songbirds had once been in his ears instead of the constant ear splitting drill of industrial decay. He imagined his brown, scaled hands drawing back on his bow, breathing in, taking sure aim, and… "You ok captain?" Ghaghik opened his orange, slitted eyes and glanced down at the rookie. He towered over her, being 7 feet tall compared to her measly 5.1. He had forgotten to adjust the seat for her, and she was barely able to look over the steering wheel. The sight was almost comical. "Yeah kid", he responded, "I've just grown to hate this patrol route, and one day you will too."

The rookie next to him had introduced herself as Naveen Lukrizia, and she was terrible at her job. Her aim with a stinger pistol was horrendous, ranking in as worse than the standard for an imperial stormtrooper. Her pursuit skills were brazenly sub par (she often forgot police speeders had the right of way), and she was incredibly naive. The first time Ghaghik had let her tag along, she quite literally let the fugitive escape. They had just finished a drug bust, and Ghaghik had personally secured the dealer. It was a grimy, ill tempered Mimban the color of rotting pumpkin. The damn thing put up a fight, and it had taken Ghaghik five minutes to force the wretch into the back of the police speeder (an action that normally would have taken him 30 seconds and only one clawed hand). During the drive back to the precinct, the runt in back kept insisting that they crack the back window open, so it could clear its head. Ghaghik was tired after wrestling with the thing, and he remained largely silent. "Just crack the window open a little", he had said, "We don't need this thing suing us." Unfortunately, Ghaghik's definition of "a little" and Naveen's definition had differed. Ghaghik was jostled away from his report filing to see the Mimban crawling out of the window. The reinforced glass had been lowered nearly two thirds down, and the dealer had managed to get both its head and torso out. Ghaghik had been able to get a hold of the thing's ankle, but it kicked him furiously. Its diseased talons had punctured through its old shoe and went straight into Ghaghik's palm, cracking a couple of his scales and breaking his grip. The Mimban then wriggled out the window. He had told Naveen to stop, but she slowly rolled to a complete halt instead of slamming the breaks. By the time Ghaghik got out of the vehicle, the wretch had successfully crawled its way past a sewer grate. There were things Ghaghik was willing to do for the law, pursuing a Mimban into pitch black sewer muk was not one of them.

That was why they were out in "Mothmatown'' today. Ghaghik had traced a lead to this shining cornerstone of civilization, and was hoping to pick up the mimban's trail. He still had the shoe from the night the Mimban escaped, and he was looking to pick up its scent. Naveen was here for two reasons. The first was for her to practice her driving in the squadcar, the other was that Naveen was the department's new secret weapon.

Of course, saying this out loud would have caused the entire precinct to burst out laughing (the loudest amongst them probably being Ghaghik), but deep in his cold blooded heart, Ghaghik knew what he was working with. Naveen was a mirialan. She appeared very similar to a human besides her green skin and dimple-like facial tattoos. They were common in New Republic space, and were not particularly troublesome or notable. Naveen was notable. The day she walked in for her interview, Ghaghik had smelt it on her. It was a smelly smell that he had not smelled for a long time, not since he was a private detective on Couresont so many years ago. She smelt like a force user.

Ghaghik was uncertain if she knew it herself, and he didn't want to pull the "ugly Trandocian'' and say, "I can smell your super special blood, here, pick up this donut with your mind." He also didn't want to report her presence to the feds upstairs. More than likely, they would send some hooded figure to take her away, depriving the police department of an incredibly useful officer. "Jedi", Ghaghik thought to himself, "All hat and no cattle. They think they're doing the Republic a service by fancifully meditating on a far off planet while people like us do the dirty work. Naveen would be wasted in their robed clutches." Ghaghik was taking another sip of his coffee just as Naveen screamed and slammed the brakes. The seatbelt caught him, but the pitcher's lid broke off on the dash, causing the scalding brown liquid to spill all over Ghaghik's admittedly large belly and seep into his uniform. Ghaghik felt his lips curl back into an involuntary snarl as he growled, "What was that for, Naveen."

Naveen turned so pale she almost looked yellow. She pointed out in front of them and said, "It's a dog sir. It just flew out in front of us." Ghaghik's pupils narrowed as he looked out the window screen. Sure enough, a huge Mastiff had ran into the street where it was currently tearing apart something small and fleshy. "Get your stinger pistol ready Naveen", Ghaghik said, "We don't know if it's rabid". With a practiced hand, Ghaghik undid the strap on his holster, and prepared a public hazzard ticket for whichever bastard owned the dog.

Dodging the Coppers

Jaeleno closed the shades as Abercrombie gathered a pile of mints from his knapsack. Daedalus was being friendly, thank the force, but he was slowly leading the cops over to Yafu's front yard. Normally, they could have just slipped out the back and pretended to be actual gardeners, but one of the cops made that difficult. It was a slightly overweight Transdocian with brown scales and a pair of piercing orange eyes. He was wearing the outfit of a Chandrillan police chief. Both Jaeleno and Abercrombie knew it was Ghaghik Lghghagh, an officer who was responsible for at least 60 drug busts within the last year. Once he picked up the scent of a dealer, he would never forget it. The only way to shake him was to eternally wear overly strong perfume or leave the planet.

If Ghaghik caught wind of either Jaeleno or Abercrombie, it would be the end of the line. The scent of Sobyaki farms was everywhere in the drug trade. If they let him smell them, he would immediately look up their identities, and a raid would be scheduled for the farm. "Abercrombie, Get the hose ready in the back. Wash off the droids first, do yourself, then get ready to spray me off. I'm going to see if Yafu can buy us a little time. With a short nod, Abercrombie scampered off to the rear sliding door. "Wait!", said Jaeleno. Make sure the wind is blowing away from the officers before you step out there, and mute the droids." Abercrombie stuck his finger in his mouth and silently slid it out the back door. The wind was blowing eastwards, towards the destroyers and away from the westbound officers. Jaeleno turned back to Yafu, who was passed out on the recliner, and picked up a handful of mints.

There was a reason Jaeleno did not partake of his own product. Bliss was a powerful hallucinogen and dopamine replicator. It had no long term side effects (if prepared correctly), but its short term effects were powerful, and long lasting. This presented a problem when dealing with a veteran cop.

Yafu was busy shooting lasers out of his fingernails as he rode his recliner through space. Each laser flailed about like a tentacle until it found a tie fighter to plunge into. Instead of blowing up, the fighters turned into bow ties and flew away like butterflies. He was down 300 to 400 in the intergalactic game of "500". The cosmic Lea, clad in armor of pure starlight, threw the football and shouted "200" with the authority of a God. The ball flew forth from her hand, and turned into the Death Star laser beam as it gained momentum. More tie fighters were closing in. They wanted the Death Star, but Yafu wanted it more. He jumped from his chair and caught the laser beam in his cupped hands. The entire rebel fleet emerged out of hyperspace and cheered. Alderaan was saved and he had done it. He was the hero of the Rebellion! However, the laser turned back into a football and grew many tiny hands. It crawled up his arm and stuck its tip in his mouth. Oddly enough, it tasted like mint.

"Snap out of it you old druggie!" Jaeleno said as he shoved a wad of mints into Yafu's mouth. The veteran pilot opened his eyes and asked, "Did I win?"

"Sure Yafu, now put your legs back on and distract the officers for us", Jaeleno responded. The shadows of the two feds were growing larger as they walked closer to the window. "Ohh, they want to speak to the hero of the Rebellion", Yafu said as he lifted himself out of his chair. Unfortunately, he only had attached one leg and toppled over onto the ground with an exasperated cry of despair. Immediately, a pounding came at the door, and a raspy, reptilian voice asked "Sir, are you all right? We might have your dog!" Jaeleno swore and took Dadelous's pooper scooper from its place at the front door. He then used it to smear Yafu's hands and cheeks. It was nasty, but probably the only thing that would sufficiently confuse Ghaghik's sense of smell. Jaeleno then attached Yafu's other leg and slipped out the back door (where Abercrombie was already waiting to spray him down).

Yafu could now stand. The cosmic Lea had instructed him to distract the cops as she bathed in the hose water out back. Furthermore, the dog had found intruders, and Yafu had to keep his treasure safe from them. He made his way to the front door, periodically bumping into the walls. He then pulled an umbrella from his coat rack, mistaking it for a lightsaber, and opened the front door to engage his foes in the ring of honor. "Help how may I you", Said Yafu. The two officers looked at him with the same level of shock as he was accustomed to. He didn't mind. After all, he was looking at something equally as shocking. The two officers were animated! Their proportions were off and they were oddly geometric. "I have fallen into the uncanny valley without a rope", Yafu mumbled to himself.

Ghaghik couldn't take his eyes off the human in front of him. It was like the entirety of Mothmatown had chosen an avatar to possess. The horror that stood in the doorway was a twisted mesh of industrial detritus and atrophied flesh. An IV line of some sort had come loose on the creature's hip and it was oozing a sickly greenish yellow liquid. Ghaghik could pick up the odor of the dog on the man, but he didn't need a heightened sense of smell to know it. The man had feces smeared on his arms and a solid curdle had fastned itself to his cheek. For the first time in years, Ghaghik felt truly sick to his stomach. In fact, he felt that if he opened his mouth, he would spew up his morning coffee. Thank the Scorekeeper for Naveen! She gave one last pet on the dog's flank and read its collar. "Sir, does Dadelous belong to you?" she asked. The man looked down with wide pupils and said, "Yes. He flew far and wide to bring me tidings of your arrival (pointing at Naveen with an umbrella)".

"Alright then, well, we're glad to have returned him to you", Naveen responded, giving Ghaghik a quick, nervous glance.

"Screw the ticket", Ghaghik thought to himself. His nostrils were on fire, and Naveen looked like she was about to cry. "You have yourself a pleasant evening sir", Ghaghik said, "Keep an eye on that dog the next time you let it outside". He was hoping the abomination would just close the door and get back to its foul bidding, but life was never that simple for a police officer. "Look upon me!", the man bellowed, causing them both to turn around and behold him again. "I am a monument to the Rebellion", Yafu said as he opened the umbrella and flailed it around. "I am the wooden shield that was laid low by the imperial warhammer, so that the cosmic Organa could keep fighting. Who are you to judge me?" Ghaghik felt his lip retracting back in another involuntary snarl, which he hated. He could now taste the man as well. "Listen citizen, I was going to give you a public endangerment ticket for a loose dog, but I'm letting you off with a warning on account of your… condition. Don't push your luck!" The man started shaking his head, and silently slid towards them, revealing that he had tires instead of feet because of course he did. He fell from the top stair with a "CLOP" and shakily steadied himself. His metal legs then extended and he stood even taller than Ghaghik. "My luck has been pushed through metal and stars. I push it further as I please." Ghaghik glanced over and saw Naveen had drawn her pistol. "Easy Naveen", he said. "Let's get back to the squad car and settle this later." As the two officers slowly backed away from Yafu, he jiggled violently, spraying more of the sidewalk with his IV fluid. "Hark me as a warning! Thou have been weaned on the fatty milk of peace! Lo and behold the spicer tang War offers at her tit! The two officers left in such a hurry they didn't even notice the wet footprints going out into the road or the fact that a certain farm's delivery speeder had disappeared.

Our imperial Benefactor

The drive back to the farm had been a miserable one. Their clothes were soaking wet and Jaeleno had Abercrombie listen in on the police scanners for the entire drive. Abercrombie also had to keep reminding Jaeleno to drive like a normal citizen instead of nervously swerving in and around traffic. It was already 11:30 at night by the time they arrived back at the farmhouse.

"Abercrombie, get these droids into the barn", Jaeleno said, "I need to change into some clean clothes and brainstorm what we are going to do about our quality insurance". Abercrombie nodded and gave the droids a "follow" instruction. In unison, the B1s lined up single file and tailed Abercrombie to the barn. When Abercrombie reached the thin, metal sliding doors, he noticed soft lamp light emanating from within. He gave the droids a "standby" command and squeezed between the partially ajar doors. What he saw inside puzzled him. Some of the B1s that had been left in their original carrying crates had been activated. There were six or so busying themselves within the barn. They were carrying wood, cutting boards, and climbing up a ladder to repair the ceiling. It was a job Abercrombie was happy not to do, but their unexplained activation perturbed him. There were only supposed to be two active droids on guard duty. The activation of this bunch would have only been triggered by a direct command or a subroutine triggered by a proximity alert. Either way, Abercrombie figured someone else was in the building. He fastened his knapsack tighter and snuck behind a row of rusting tractors.

Abercrombie scampered behind the agricultural equipment, avoiding the sharp, tetanus infused protrusions with practiced ease. He then came across a hole between the wooden wall and dirt floor that had been left by a womp rat infestation several years ago. He got on his hands and knees and started crawling. The act was demeaning, but it was Abercrombie's way of traveling about the farm unnoticed. He had found it particularly useful for disappearing whenever Jaeleno asked him to dance for the visitors during fall hayrides. His current tunnel exited right above the old milk storage tanks in the barn's basement. As Abercrombie poked his head through a crack in the wooden ceiling, it became apparent that this section of the building was in fact occupied.

The old milk tanks had been retrofitted extensively by Jaeleno. The refrigeration generators had been torn out and replaced with industrial level reactor cooling units. The walls were lined with monitors displaying the contents of the tanks along with data on isomerization, theoretical yield, and exact yield of the bliss oil within the tanks. At the end of the room, several clutches of nerf eggs were being injected with bliss oil via automatic mechanical arms protruding from the tanks. Going from the floor to the ceiling, was a cylindrical glass chamber holding the treated eggs in 15 parallel racks. The orange glow of tibanna gas drifted through the glass vessel and wafted into the eggs through tiny induction fans. Vivian and Kringea stood in front of this development chamber.

Vivian was the first Abercrombie heard. "This isn't enough Kringea. I need a product that can get me into the Capitol by next month, otherwise I am wasting my time here. Do you know any other gangs or dealers directly connected to federal workers? The Mimban picked at its teeth while responding haphazardly. "Maybe, Maybe not. I'm not giving any more information until I get more money."

"I've already paid you well past your actual value, Kringea. You'll get your next payment when I get into the capitol, not a moment before."

Kringea stopped fiddling with her teeth and gave Vivian a menacing, black smile. "I don't think you should be the one dictating terms here 'Viv'. I've lived on Chandrila a long time, and I've seen a lot of people take refuge amongst the underworld. It's usually not hard to decipher where they came from. As for you, it's comically simple. No one as wealthy as yourself would bother with these Sobyaki fools, not in person anyways. You know they are amateurs playing in bigger leagues. Huh. Most Twi'leks would simply be happy to have a job near the capitol, but not you. You need to get into the capitol by next month. Whatever for? Is it because Senator Organa will be there? Are you part of a powerful princess fan club, or do you need to send a message back to your red eyed emperor? Now, we have …." Vivian was on Kringea so fast it startled Abercrombie out of his hole. He fell down the wall and landed on his back behind one of the egg filling stations. Luckily, neither of the women had noticed him.

Vivian had pulled out a razor sharp jackknife with a white hot edge and had it pressed firmly to Kringea's jugular. A faint trail of smoke was already coming up from where the knife met Kringea's carapace. Vivian then said, "Do not mistake me for someone to be exploited, I know 150 ways to kill you, and my friends know 250 more. I can let you go in peace if you want to walk out, but the moment you become a liability to us, you will not last a single day. There will be no corner of this planet, no recess of this entire sector that you will ever be safe in." Vivan took the knife away from the Mimban's neck and threw the creature back against the wall. Kringea sputtered for a couple moments before regaining her composure. "I aint a snitch, but you ain't gonna get far without my help "IMP"!" With that, Kringea trudged past the tanks (forcing Abercrombie to hide) and punched open the cellar doors. Surprisingly, the heavy cellar doors flew back as if they had been struck by a drunk driver. Kringea turned around to look at Vivian from the top of the stairs. "Don't think you had me there 'Viv'. I could have laid you out if I wanted to." Kringea then walked on and disappeared from view. Abercrombie stayed in his hiding place under the tank as Vivan followed Kringea out (still with her knife drawn) and turned off the cellar lights.

…

Jaeleno wasn't much for making grandiose plans, but he was quite proud of himself for this one. Yafu was right. The new Tibanna gas treatment had been cutting corners. The bliss oil had two structural isomers, one made people high, the other was a dangerous neurotoxin. Therefore, the bliss eggs had to be fixed in the non harmful isomer before they were sent off. Jaeleno had previously done this with a treatment involving the reactor cooling units he had gotten from a local auction, but they were only able to process one or two eggs every couple hours. They paid for themselves, but not much more. His new system hooked up the cooling units to the old milk tanks to create a broader cooling effect across a bulk storage of Bliss oil. He then filled nerf eggs with the bliss oil and put them in a chamber saturated with tibanna gas. The gas acted as a molecular glue to hold the bliss isomers in place. The yield had been great, but, as Yafu had mentioned, it had an impact on taste. He hoped Mutsa Wusha hadn't yet noticed.

Luckily, Jaeleno had been working on another replacement for a while. He just never had the means to do so before. Now that he had a sizeable number of battle droids, it just might work. That was when Abercrombie scrambled through the dog door Jaeleno had installed for him. "Took your time stowing those droids didn't you Abercrombie", Jaeleno said with a smile. Abercrombie fished out the speech synthesizer he had in his knapsack and placed the strap around his neck. "We have a problem Jaeleno", he said. "I caught Vivian and the Mimban collaborating in our development room." Jaeleno turned his chair to face Abercrombie and listened more intently. Abercrombie continued, "They were arguing about us being able to get Vivian into the capitol by next month. Vivian is considering abandoning us if it means she can get in quicker. Also, they ended on bad terms. Jaeleno, I think Vivian might be imperial." Jaeleno nodded and scratched his chin. "Then we need to produce far more Fluffff eggs and get to know that Twi'lek better. Here, take a look."

Abercrombie Jumped up onto the table and gazed over the scrap paper Jaeleno had been sketching over. The pencil drawing depicted a heavy metal box with slender platinum ribs spanning from the sides and over the top. "This is an imperial stasis chamber", Jaeleno said, "I was able to use a couple when I was in the chemistry institute back on Corellia". Jaeleno folded up the drawing. "It was how I first learned to prevent the bliss oil from isomerizing. Now, point me in the direction of our Imperial benefactor. If she wants to get into the capitol, she'll have to work for it."

Common Goals

Vivian trudged through the recently harvested corn fields. The grainy, amber soil stuck to her boots and made the trek back to the Juggernaut absolutely dreadful. Legions of mosquitoes assaulted her from the stagnant pond in the middle of the field, adding to her misery. She passed by sinking vine posts that reminded her all to much of barbed wire fences. Vivian had parked the Juggernaut well behind the field to keep it out of sight from the main road. It had been a risk to buy the droids, and an even larger one to set up operations on the farm. With Kringea gone, it felt like Vivian was getting nothing back for her investments. She was running out of time.

Vivian felt the soil give way to solid earth as she slipped into the forest behind the field. About 100 feet into the wood stood the Juggernaut like a massive, silent tombstone. Vivian swiped a passcard she had been given by Mauritius and a service lift extended from under the vehicle. She kicked off the muck from her boots and rode the lift into the belly of the armored hauler. Unbeknownst to her, a lizard monkey (carrying what appeared to be a long rifle) scampered upside down along the ventral hull and entered through the service lift just as it was closing.

The last couple of months had been difficult. In the past, Vivian had only been assigned to imperial installations. There she would gain intel, designate targets, and assassinate key personnel. This mission was much more restrictive. She wasn't in a warzone, so she could not take advantage of a chaotic environment. She remembered Maximillian giving her the mission briefing. "You are to insert yourself into the New Republic bureaucracy. Once there, you will attempt to assess the military capabilities and operations of the New Republic Navy. You will also determine whether it poses any new threat to the Empire of the Hand. You may use whatever means you see fit, but we have a set of conditions. First, your priority survey targets are the senators, generals, and admiralty. Don't waste your time with anyone below that. Second, you should stay mobile. Many of the Chandrillan police officers are ex-military, they can see through an alias if you use it too long. The final and most important condition is that nobody, under no circumstance, can know you serve The Empire of the Hand. That could spark war." At present, Vivian was on her way towards failing all three categories.

Vivian activated the Juggernaut's slew of observation devices. She had attempted to infiltrate the Capitol as a cleaning lady, but even positions such as those were closely monitored. She had spent a month cleaning those marbled hallways and was never able to get within 50 feet of a senator. There was always a visor-wearing guard blocking her way. However, she often heard lesser politicians (lobbyists and the like) gossiping about the partying habits of some of the senators. She came to recognize where and when the lobbyists would have lunch and would always make sure to be doing some sort of maintenance activity in their vicinity. Vivian eventually learned that droves of old military personnel were retiring. Nearly all of the old imperial activity in New Republic space had been defeated or expelled (in no small part due to the activities of the Empire of the Hand elsewhere). Therefore, retirement parties were a common sight to behold amongst the glistening skyline of the Capitol. All manner of products were served as party favors, not least of which were Bliss and Flufffff eggs. Vivian had spent dozens of sleepless nights learning about the Chandrillan drug trade. The best materials all seemed to come into the city from the suburbs and farmlands to the west, far beyond the reach of the urban police departments. During this time, Vivian also came to know that she was on the clock. It was rumored that the largest party of the year would be the retirement celebration for admiral Hera Syndulla. It was to be held in the upper levels of the Capitol building and would be the "event of the decade". Key figures like Chancellor Mon Mothma, Leia Organa, and Admiral Wedge Antilles would show up. If Vivian missed this deadline, it would take her years to climb back up to any one of those individuals.

She left her job as a janitor and started scoping out the drug trade immediately. She started by listening in on old veteran meetings (a breeding ground for druggies on Chandrila) and patrolled the less affluent neighborhoods like "Mothmatown". This was when she found Kringea selling Flufff eggs under an overpass. This surprised Vivian. She recognized the product Kringea was selling. After all, it had been everywhere amongst the political elite, but she hadn't expected such a lowly creature to be selling it. Eventually, Vivian hired Kringea as a guide (of sorts) to the Chandrillan underworld. This brought Vivian to Mutsa Wusha, which led to Jaeleno and the Sobayaki farm.

Vivian had mistook Kringea for a dim witted dealer whose mind had been destroyed by the same product she was selling. Everything pointed to it. The black fingernails, the rotting teeth, her apparent aloofness. Vivian had been caught completely off guard when Kringea had correctly guessed that she was serving under the banner of The Hand. She should have seen it coming all the way back to when Kringea had unexpectedly put on a buttery disposition to finalize the deal with Jaeleno. That was something a washed out druggie simply couldn't do. Vivian knew this better than most. After her argument with Kringea, Vivian had attached a Gastro-intestinal intelligence droid to one of the bliss eggs Kringea had been stealing from Sobyaki. The droid was so small and silent that most sentient beings would not notice it even under heavy scrutiny. It was one of the twelve of its kind Maximilian had provided her for high priority targets, but ,in Vivian's eyes, Kringea had just promoted herself. Whatever Kringea was going to say and wherever she would go, Vivian would know.

A motion sensor indicated that someone was approaching the juggernaut. Vivian cut the GI droid feed, slipped a blaster in her back pocket, and peeked out of a reinforced window. The figure stepped into a gap between the trees and the moonlight revealed it to be Jaeleno carrying a vintage bottle of Corellian brandy. Keeping her blaster, Vivian walked over to the cargo lift and lowered it to greet her business partner. "It's starting to get cold out there", Jaeleno said as he kicked the mud off his boots on one of the hauler's wheels. "Mind if I come in?" Vivian checked the man over. She saw the outline of a scattergun in his boot and quickly recognized he was not drunk. Both signs pointed to him planning something. "I'm afraid our contract didn't grant you access to this vehicle, Jaeleno", Vivian said, "You can tell me what you want from here". Jaeleno shrugged. "I just want to talk about things. I wagered this would get me in (gesturing to the booze) if my charming personality failed". Vivian's eyes narrowed. If you leave the firearm in your boot, then you can come in." Jaeleno smiled and bowed his head slightly as he pulled out the scattergun and set it in the grass. "As you wish."

The lift brought them both up to the cargo hold. Vivian set one of the droid crates on its side to act as a table, and locked the doors to the Juggernaut's more sensitive compartments. Jaeleno set up two chairs and two bottles. He opened the liquor and started pouring. "I know ours was a no questions asked agreement. You gave me money and … erm… "manpower", and I gave you a chance to get inside the Capitol and a place to do whatever you do. Well, I just want to make sure our agreement hasn't been altered (passes the drink). I saw Kringea storm off in a hurry, so I thought I'd pay you a visit. To make sure our partnership was not in jeopardy. Jaeleno then took a deep draw from his cup and laughed to himself softly as Vivian eyed her cup cautiously. "The only time I will ever poison someone is if I do so by accident. Please, I wouldn't even defile this Corellian liquor with ice. You either drink it straight or don't drink it at all." Vivian allowed herself to smile and took a shallow sip. "Let's skip the formalities, Jaeleno. I'm busy tonight, so get to your point."

"If I am going to get you into the Capitol, I will need an old imperial stasis chamber".

Vivian set down her drink. "And what makes you think I will be of assistance?"

"(lifting the cup to his lips) I need either a high level imperial keycard or an advanced imperial lockpick. I wager you have one of those two somewhere in this vehicle."

A plasma bolt had gone through Jaeleno's cup before he even had time to duck. Jaeleno gazed at the perfectly round, red hot hole in his ornamental glass. All the brandy inside had been vaporized. "Choose your next words carefully Mr. Sobayaki '', Vivian said from the other side of her blaster. That was when she felt a slight poke at the base of her skull. A robotic voice whispered from directly behind her, "Same goes for you madam". It was Abercrombie with the farm's Cycler rifle.

"Loose the gun madam", Abercrombie said as he poked Vivian's neck with the end of the rifle. Vivian had a knife in her other pocket, but there was no chance of reaching it before the lizard monkey pulled the trigger. "Now, now, Abercrombie", Jaeleno mused, "We are trying to restore faith in our contract. I don't believe that is attainable while we're having this little standoff."

"I agree", Vivian said as she pointed the gun away from Jaeleno, turned on the safety, and tossed it on the floor. Keeping his rifle on Vivian, Abercrombie reached into her pocket and extracted her knife. He then picked up her blastor and took a seat in the corner (keeping the rifle ready at his shoulder).

Vivian's mind was racing. She had no clue that lizard monkeys could handle guns , let alone speak. She had bought herself some time to think while she was tossing away her weapon, but none of her options looked good. "You seem at a loss for words , '' Jaeleno said as he took a swig directly from the bottle. "I don't really care where you start as long as you explain yourself." Her time was up. Vivian would either have to spin a story or she would have to fight, and she didn't like her chances while fully disarmed. "Have you ever heard about the planet Ryloth", she began.

Upon the Crossroads

(Three months before the battle of Endor - eight years ago)

(Private Château property on the industrial world of Kuat)

Captain Maximilian de la Château sat under the broad leaves of an oak tree as he watched commerce vessels pierce through the thick clouds above. To his left stood his family's villa, a broad, steel and marble, two-story building of neoclassical design. To the right and in front of him, spread several miles of winding country peppered with brooks and grottos. Rising endlessly in all directions around the park and the villa stood solemn black and chrome buildings. This property was some of the only green space for miles, and it drew tourists from far and wide (a lucrative venture for the Château family). However, Maximilian no longer cared.

He was not alone underneath the oak tree. Besides him was a small, granite headstone. It read,

---

Cynthia de la Château. Dedicated surgeon, wife, and servant of the Empire.

"Trained Hands Can Save the Dead"

---

The description had been etched onto the headstone, but the quote at the end had been written in flowing letters made of pure vescar steel. The inscription was the motto of the royal medical academy on Coruscant, where Cynthia had graduated with flying colors. The school had donated the inscription during Cynthia's funeral, and Maximilian imagined the expense for it had been high. He wondered how many hundreds of students and professors had chipped in. If they had not remained anonymous, he would have sent them all letters professing his gratitude.

Cythia's skills were well above the level of the standard practitioner, but she always preferred to be amongst the sick and hurt rather than teaching at the pulpit of a lecture hall. This had been what landed her aboard the Executor super star destroyer. The sheer number of crewmembers had been overwhelming the ship's medical staff, so Cynthia had been asked to take the role of the new head medical officer. The day Maximilian saw Cynthia board a shuttle to the Executor was the proudest day of his life. All this pride turned to horror when he received Cynthia's body from captain Needa.

After Maximilian recovered from the shock of Cythia's death, he tried to track down captain Needa. He was furious at Needa and, without a suitable route to direct his rage, blamed her death on him. It didn't take long for the Dévastation's archivist to provide Maximilian an update on Needa's current status. "Deceased. Cause of death REDACTED." This answer had not been good enough for Maximilian, so he pulled all the favors he could. He contacted all the friends he knew in the Imperial Security Beuro, he asked captains who had been escorting the Executor during the Hoth campaign, He even left his first mate in charge of the Dévastation so he could converse with Needa's family. Nothing yielded results.

A year had passed since Cynthia's death and Maximilian was growing desperate. He was spending less and less time on the ship, and when he was onboard, he rarely left his quarters. It had gotten so bad, that the first mate (a comparably young man by the name of McDonnah) was often mistaken for captain Maximilian. One evening, while the Dévastation was patrolling the outskirts of the Maw nebula, Maximilian received a pre-recorded hologram from the department of the navy "Captain Maximilian de la Château. It has come to our attention that you are no longer pursuing your position with utmost passion. This is intolerable and your repeated departures from the Dévastation are in major violation of the clear warnings we have sent you. We gave you time captain. Now we ask that you resign. If you cooperate, we will let you go with full military honors. If not, a court marshall will be in order."

Maximilian was out of time. He had 14 days to give up his position as captain or the security bureau would go after him. These were the last days he would ever be able to get answers, the last days he would be able to find closure. Once he was out of the navy , all his connections would be lost. This called for one final effort. Maximilian picked up his hologram transmitter and called admiral Firmus.

High admiral Firmus was in charge of the Executor, the same dreadnought Cynthia had died on. He had been given command shortly after captain Needa's death and ruled the ship, along with its accompanying fleets, with an iron fist. Any question of Palpatine often ended in swift disciplinary action, and everyone within the admiral's sphere of control knew it. All a captain had to do to advance up the ranks was to grovel at Firmus's feet and praise the emperor. Maximilian had avoided the man for this very reason. The Dévastation was not part of Firmus's task force and the various merits of the ship and Maximilian would likely be lost on the Admiral. Worse yet, Firmus outranked Maximilian by a fair margin. If the admiral didn't like the tone Maximilian was using (which was likely to occur), Maximilian would face a court marshall and perhaps a firing line. A year ago, this would have stayed Maximilian's hand on the hologram transmitter. Now, with ten days left, Maximilian considered himself a dead man. What more did he have to lose?

…

The hologram puck started blinking and Maximilian set it on the floor of his captain's quarters. A full size projection of a communications officer came into view, who gave a short naval salute upon seeing the badge on Maximilian's chest. "What can I do for you sir?", the officer asked. "You can get me in contact with Admiral Firmus ", Maximilian responded.

"I'm sorry sir, but the admiral has a waiting list going back a week".

"Tell Firmus that I will see him in one standard rotation, in person, or he will be missing a chance to recruit a competent destroyer captain to his task force. I hear those are in short supply nowadays."

The officer's eyes showed both apprehension and pity, as if this had happened before and always came to an ugly end. "I'll inform him", he said as he walked out of view.

Maximilian took in the kaleidoscopic view from the Dévastation's bridge as the vessel tore through hyperspace. A navigation officer shouted, "Five minutes until we reach the Executor". First mate McDonnah slowly walked up beside Maximilian and cleared his throat. "This view never ceases to amaze, doesn't it cap'n".

"It surely does not", responded Maximilian. "I suspected it might be the last time I ever behold it". McDonnah turned towards the captain with a furrowed brow. "Cap'n, I've been with you for years. You're a good man, an honest man. We don't need another one of your lot throwing their life away. I don't want it, the crew doesn't want it, Hell, I doubt the admiralty wants it! When you talk to Firmus, you watch what you say. Complete whatever it is you're doing, but come back alive. I like my chances at livin' better with you at the helm." Maximilian let out a short chuckle and clapped McDonnah on the shoulder. "You're a good man McDonnah, and, regardless of what happens when I leave, you'll serve the Dévastation well. Now, I have some grievances to give unto this high admiral."

The Dévastation exited hyperspace high over the mining world of Sullust. The molten lava fields below illuminated the underbelly of Firmus's fleet as the solitary destroyer made its approach. The Executor was a massive ship, dwarfing Maximilian's vessel along with the five other destroyers running escort duty. The Dévastation fell in behind the Executor and Maximilian got on a shuttle bound for the behemoth. While in transit, Maximilian gazed back at the Dévastation. "Goodbye mon cheval de bataille, it was truly an honor." The passenger room of the shuttle went dark as it flew into the shadow casted by the Executor's dorsal cityscape. The shuttle assumed its landing position, and tractor beams guided it into a small hangar bay deep within the Executor's trench network. Once the shuttle came to a halt, Maximilian brushed off his outfit and walked out into the blinding light of the hangar. Two stormtroopers strode out of a nearby security room and escorted Maximilian to a transportation tram.

Despite all her outward grandeur, the inside of the Executor looked cheap. The fighter servicing equipment was dated, and the ray shields keeping out the vacuum of space were in desperate need of repair. The monorail Maximilian took to the admiral's lounge in the command deck screeched and grinded as it crawled along a rusting rail. Maximilian only counted five engineers working on the miles of track between the hangear and conning tower. The command deck itself felt empty, and the officers and captains that remained looked cowed and afraid. The admiral's lounge was different, of course. The chrome walls had recently been polished, and two jet black sofas sat parallel to each other. The sofas were separated by a white coffee table bearing the imperial insignia in black. In the center of the insignia sat a diamond drinking glasses and a bottle of Kashyyyk rum.

The stormtrooper escort left Maximilian just as admiral Firmus entered the room. In one hand, he was holding an electronic record, in the other he was holding a half drained cup of rum. Maximilian gave a formal salute, but the high admiral didn't seem to notice. He looked sleep deprived and overworked. Firmus was the first to speak. "Conquest of Mandalore, conquest of Mimban, elimination of the Jade Brood cartel. Tell me captain Maximilian, why have I not heard of you until now?"

"I wouldn't expect you to. This all took place in the northern reach of the galaxy. There are many notable battles that occurred in the southern reaches that I did not learn about until recently, so one may be forgiven for…."

"That's enough. I'm more interested in what this 'competent destroyer captain' wants from his superior besides a swift lesson in humility. By all means, sit down." Maximilian obliged Firmus's request and went further by pouring himself a glass of the rum. If he was going to risk getting killed, he might as well be comfortable. Maximilian then said, "One year ago, my wife was murdered on this ship. Her spine was snapped and her neck was so bruised, it looked like she was wearing a necklace of coal. I want to know who killed her." Firmus put down his glass and genuinely looked pained as he said, "I read your file and am aware. You truly have my sympathies, but I cannot help you unless I have reassurances."

"Those being?"

"As I'm sure you have noticed, the Executor is no longer what she used to be. Much of my crew is no longer returning from leave, and what's left of my engineering staff is being pulled to Endor. To make matters worse, my escorting destroyers are fresh from the construction line and are filled with novice crews." Firmus pressed a button on the side of his data pad and the steel ceiling pulled away to reveal a moonroof that looked out between the Executor's massive engines. Two standard star destroyers could be seen. One was the Dévastation and the other was a freshly built vessel Maximilian was unfamiliar with. "The destroyer to the right of your Dévastation is the Rampage," Firmus said. "Captain Balao commands that ship. Guess how many battles she has seen?"

"Not many."

"She is fresh from the academy, and has never been in combat. This is why the Empire needs you. I've read your file extensively, captain, and I know the past year has been difficult. However, despite your recent, and forgivable, dereliction of duty, you never abandoned the Empire. That is more than can be said for much of the spineless crew aboard this vessel! Cowards, all of them!"

"I didn't come here for lectures, admiral, I came here for answers. I suspect you are building up to a proposal, and I would like to hear it now." Admiral Firmus pulled out a hologram puck and set it on the table. "This will give you your answers captain", He said. "However, I need you to once again swear yourself to the Empire before you take it. I will also need you to heed the call of my task force when the time comes. The rebel threat has been allowed to exist for far too long, and Emperor Palpatine himself has come up with a plan to defeat them once and for all. My task force is critical for this endeavor, and I need as many men as possible for it to be successful. Will you serve with me?" Maximilian kept his eyes on the hologram puck. "When am I expected to be called?"

"You have time, several months perhaps. We will give you the coordinates for the rendezvous point when we are ready." Firmus handed Maximilian an encrypted transmitter. "Keep this with you at all times. It will tell you when to meet up with the fleet. If you don't come when called, we will hunt you down as a traitor."

"I am free to take the recording?"

"Swear your loyalty to the Empire first, then you can have it." Maximilian stood up and eyed Firmus warrily. He then looked back down at the puck. "I swear to the Empire and the Emperor that I shall uphold the unity and order of the galaxy. I shall live and, if need be, die to preserve both, and to stamp out his majesty's enemies. My life is the Emperor's and my will is his will. Glory unto the Empire."

Firmus handed the hologram puck over to Maximilian and beckoned the stormtroopers to escort him out. The two men exchanged salutes and Maximilian started on his way out of the door. "Captain", Firmus beckoned as Maximilian reached the door. "Where can I expect to find you until we call?"

"Kuat. The Dévastation needs repairs and I have personal matters to attend to."

Several days later, Captain Maximilian approached his homeworld. The vast shipbuilding rings of Kuat were some of the greatest marvels in the galaxy. Rows upon rows of star destroyers were being built in orbit, along with several incomplete super dreadnoughts. There was no vacant room for the Dévastation in these rings, so Maximilian brought the ship down into the planet's atmosphere. From there, he had the planet's flight control scan his starship and was given access to land at a dockyard a mere eight miles from the Château villa. After granting the crew temporary leave, he chose to walk home rather than take a taxi. The familiar sight of the Kuat skyline was a welcome, if temporary distraction from the heavy weight of the hologram puck in his pocket. When Maxamilian arrived home, he immediately walked outside to the old oak tree. Underneath the tree was Cynthia's grave. Maximilian stood there for a long time. The overcast sky turned to rain, and it struck solemnly against the broad leaves above him.

Maximilian looked down on the holograph puck and knelt next to Cynthia's grave, muddying his uniform. "My love", he said, "Forgive me. I should have been there with you." He rested his hand on the grave. "I'm afraid of what comes next. Part of me doesn't want to watch this recording. When I was chasing for leads, it felt like you were just lost not…. gone. Now I have this." Maximilian felt the hologram pock in his pocket. "I don't want this damned recording! I want you alive!" He ran his hand over the granite headstone. "Give me strength, my love, I never had much of my own."

Maximilian walked inside the villa and changed out of his dirty captain's uniform. He put on a dower, black civilian's outfit and took the stairs to the basement. He opened a pearlwood door and locked it from the inside. This room had been Cynthia's study chambers. Old medical books lined wooden shelves all the way to the ceiling, and several plastic anatomical models were propped up along the back wall. In the center of the room was a large, circular table with a hologram projector in the middle. Cynthia had used this to perform holographic simulations or to communicate with other key medical staff of the Empire. Maximilian knew never to bother her when that pearlwood door was closed. Now, the door always stood open.

Maximilian, inserted the hologram puck into the table, and an image sputtered several times before fully materializing. It displayed Cynthia's quarters aboard the Executor. Racks of different medications were bottled along the wall in the back left corner and columns of medical droids stood plugged into an outlet along the left wall. A large operating table occupied most of the space along the right wall, and a heavy blast door was in the back right corner. The door opened and Cynthia walked in. She was wearing the same white scrubs she had while in the stasis chamber, and she had her blond hair in a tight bun (likely to put on a hair net more easily). She was carrying a heavy, backpack sized ventilator and set it down on the operating table with a loud metallic clang. The ventilator was jet black, but had blast marks that revealed the silver steel underneath. Cynthia flipped over the ventilator and walked over to the medication rack to pick up a red iodine infused sponge. The backside of the ventilator had two razor sharp protrusions (likely meant to penetrate the lungs through the patient's back) that were covered in a dark red, tar-like substance. Cynthia walked back with the sponge and started furiously scrubbing away the red gunk. She then bowed her head and sighed. She threw the sponge in a biohazard container and turned towards the camera.

Maximilian caught his breath. Cyhthia's mahogany eyes were alive and vibrant, not like the shadowy imitations he had seen over Bespin. He saw the tiny, crescent shaped birthmark on her right jaw as she turned her head to make sure the blast door was locked. Each action, each small gesture, brought back years of memories for Maximilian. Their honeymoon in Coruscant, the nights they stayed up studying for their respective exams, the long distance conversations they would share when they were lightyears apart. Maximilian's breathing came in stuttered gasps as he dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve. Even after searching for an entire year, he was not sure whether he was ready to see what happened to her. For the moment, he was just overjoyed to see her "alive" again.

Cynthia walked over towards the camera and leaned her hands on a table. She looked tired, but she also seemed nervous and watchful. She looked around as if someone or something would burst through the blast door in the back of the room or through the ventilation in the ceiling. She then began to speak and Maximilian walked towards the hologram as close as he could without obscuring the image. "This is my second recording regarding the Hoth campaign", she began. "The battle casualties were far below the expected projections. It seems we caught the rebels by surprise. However, I cannot help but feel this was still a pyrrhic victory. Too many rebels escaped past the armada, and most rebel personnel who could have given us information were killed or fled before we could question them. This was supposed to be the end of the war, but I fear it will go on for years more… Dammit! The fighting was supposed to stop here!" She paused to regain her composure. I did not create this recording to talk about Hoth, however. There is something else going on in this task force. We have been taking losses outside of combat, losses that I need to stop. There is something on this ship that has been going through our officers like a plague. It killed Admiral Ozzel yesterday. I watched it happen, but nobody seems to care! I need to record this because if I don't, nobody would believe me otherwise!"

Cynthia took a deep breath. She took a step away from the camera and held up her identification. "My name is Cynthia de la Château and I am the head medical officer onboard the super star destroyer Executor. For the last five months, a military enforcer named Vader has been assigned to this ship. I would describe him as a heavily modified human male clad in an armored life support rig. Don't be fooled, Vader is incredibly dangerous. He has taken a false command over this task force, and has been killing loyal servants of the Empire regularly. I should know! I've been assigned to maintain much of his personal life support equipment throughout the Hoth campaign. This has given me a unique position to observe Vader. Despite heavy modifications to his body and capabilities I can only describe as... supernatural, I would still classify Vader biologically as human. Therefore, he remains susceptible to the diseases of the mind that can occur within all of our kind. I have seen Vader perform acts of self mutilation, along with exhibiting frequent bursts of anger and violence. My personal hypothesis is that Vader suffers from a severe case of borderline personality disorder which has been worsened by long term PTSD. I suspect that his physical state, which I can only imagine is agonizing, and his constant presence on the battlefront has prevented him from receiving any meaningful mental or physical aid. That is what he needs and it is what this task force needs as well. Vader has killed no less than 9 individuals on this ship, more if we count the escort vessels. I have made repeated requests to have him transferred to a location where he can receive proper psychological care. None of my requests have made it through." Cynthia put her hand up to her temple and took a shaky breath. "I have come to suspect that my transmissions have been intercepted. Her voice began to shake. "I think I'm going to be the next person Vader kills."

Cynthia took two long breaths and steadies herself. "I don't want to die, and I can't have any more loyal servants of the Empire being killed by Vader. Today, I will dilute his ventilator filters (gesturing to the ventilator on the table) with dioxis. His failing respiratory tract will not be able to take this shock, and his death will be quick. This recording is meant to serve as a confession. If I succeed, I may be portrayed as a rebel sympathizer. I am not. This action is for the good of the Empire, and is meant to save those who cannot stand up to Vader. May the stars give me strength." Cynthia grabbed a tank from the medication rack and fastened it to the respirator. She picked up the respirator, walked out the room, and the recording ended.

"No", Maximilian muttered. "No. That can't be all of it." He ejected the hologram puck and flipped it over. There were no alternate play functions, no filters, nothing. Suddenly, the puck started smoking, causing Maximilian to drop it. White thermite sparks spewed up from the puck and quickly reduced the hologram to a puddle of plastic and charred wires. An entire year's worth of searching had just melted in front of him, leaving Maximilian to simply sit in silence. Rage started to flow through Maximilian's veins like venom. "Firmus, you dog", Maximilian thought to himself. The hologram puck had clearly been rigged to self destruct following a single viewing. However, Maximilian felt grateful for this (in a blistering, distorted way). The fact that Firmus went through the trouble to booby trap the hologram demonstrated that Cynthia's message was genuine. "I will keep my promise to you Firmus", Maximilian said out loud. " I will serve the Empire by killing Vader".

The Empire of the Hand

(Several days later)

Maximilian chose to end his personal leave early to supervise the preparations of the Dévastation. As he walked towards the starport, he kept reviewing different plans of how he was going to kill Vader. The first problem was finding him. Vader was one of the Emperor's key enforcers. He only showed up in places where it was exceedingly safe or exceedingly dangerous. Most of the time, he would lurk within a captain's destroyer as an unofficial security agent. Men had disappeared in his wake before, but Maximilian had always assumed it was due to the dangerous nature of Vader's destinations. Maximilian now saw himself as horribly naive for such thoughts. Although he had never met Vader in person, it still should have been easy enough to read the writing on the wall.

Perhaps Maximilian would request an audience with Vader, similar to what he did with Firmus. He could string his inner vest full of explosives and take them both out. It was a little "rebellious" for Maximilian's taste, so he held the thought. He could lock down the bridge of the Dévastation and blow Vader's transport shuttle out of the sky. "That would endanger all the crew, so no." The final thought sent a shiver through Maximilians spine. He could join the rebellion. "No, absolutely not. The rebels were glorified pirates and marauders. They don't care about the good of the galaxy so long as there was something to steal and helpless merchants to plunder", he thought to himself.

This brainstorming had worsened Maximilian's mood by the time he got to the Dévastation. The ship was parked on one of Kuat's vast runways. It's three massive landing gears gave it the appearance of a giant shelled insect hunched over in the soft morning sun. It also appeared that the "insect" was being torn apart by ants. Thousands of construction workers were boring into the ship's hull and removing key components. Maximilian walked past one of the ship's deflector shields in disbelief. Even when torn from the main body of the vessel, the deflector stood several stories above him. A maintenance project like this would take months and Maximilian didn't want to be labeled a traitor for missing Firmus's deadline. That title would come later.

"Who authorized this refit?!", Maximilian asked one of the higher ranking engineers. The engineer looked at him unphased, "The captain, Who else?"

"I am the Captain, and this is my ship. I did not authorize this!"

"You sure this is yours? We got approval from multiple higher ups."

"Yes I am sure. See that name on the hull (motionion to the bottom of the ship). This is the Dévastation. "Now, scan this (handing over an electronic chain code). Once again, I am the captain of this ship and did not authorize these changes." The engineer read the details brought up by the chain code, but did not seem entirely impressed. He then looked up and said, "The best offer I can give you is to talk to the brass in the operations bunker. It's ten miles down that way". The engineer pointed down the extensive runway. There were three other destroyers getting similar refits and then a massive concrete and steel bunker at the end of the run. The turbolaser towers that flanked the runway gave this bunker and the surrounding field the appearance of some ancient hippodrome. The engineer read something on his hologram and started to turn pale, "Listen, I'm sorry about all of this if you are the captain of the ship, but there have been some recent security changes to this field. We may have made a mistake, and I take full responsibility if we have, but, for now, you'll have to be escorted by these two men.

To the left and right of Maximilian appeared two death troopers. They had managed to sneak up alongside him without so much as warranting a glance from the engineering crews. This made Maximilian immediately suspect they had cloaking gear. They both had heavy cobalt blue armor and would have been impossible to miss in the wide open runway. Regardless, they now stood immediately behind Maximilian, their hands resting on their holsters. Whatever Maximilian had walked into, he would be staying awhile.

The troopers had flagged down a speeder, and they now blazed down the runway towards the bunker. One sat in the front seat operating the craft while the other sat next to Maximilian, its hand still resting on its holster. "What am I being held for?", Maximilian asked. The troopers remained silent. It was no use, Maximilian would need more information before finding a way out. If he tried to escape under the watch of the blue clad soldiers, he would be a dead man. The speeder came to a halt in front of the bunker. The structure's worn, heavy blast doors were already ajar and various cargo juggernauts were moving supply crates over to the parked destroyers. The driving trooper mumbled something indiscernible under its helmet and honked the horn. One of the Juggernauts then rolled from its parked position and the speeder went inside.

The situation perplexed Maximilian. He had first anticipated these troopers to be members of the Imperial Security Bureau, but they had been fairly lackadaisical about hiding their base of operations. They had not blindfolded Maximilian, and they had not tranquilized him (both of which were common tactics for the ISB). Instead, they had only kept their hands on their holsters. Their armor also intrigued Maximilian. The overall design mirrored that of a standard death trooper. They had the same helmet, the same chest mounted shield generator, and the same weapons, but the metallic blue sheen of their armor was unique. Maximilian wagered it was an expensive redesign to improve the functionality of an already effective suit. The two also did not have the standard death trooper "garble talk". Instead, Maximilian could only discern the faint hiss of radio chatter between the two. The helmets must have incorporated a noise canceling device. The troopers dismounted and lead Maximilian to a cargo lift which followed a pair of tracks obliquely down into the base. Other lifts to the left and right carried more boxes of ship supplies. By the time they got to the bottom level, the lights illuminating the corridors had changed from white to red, indicating that the people here were operating on high alert.

Maximilian was taken away from the main cargo path and led through a catacomb of computer rooms, living quarters, and meeting halls. After what had seemed like 20 minutes of walking, they had reached a pair of thick durasteel doors. An engraving of two twisting snakes adorned this door and their likeness was captured on the golden door handles. Maximilian was beckoned inside by one of the troopers and they closed the door behind him. He was alone. The interior of the room featured a thin, marble meeting table with one chair opposite Maximilian and two chairs on his side. The left and right walls displayed various schematics of star destroyers, cruisers, corvettes, and multiple hyperspace maps. There were also projections of standard fuel consumption rates for the various imperial and rebel warships. On the far wall, behind the table, was a collection of artwork, ranging from old Mandalorian stained glass dioramas to rebel graffiti. In the center of the display was a platinum and gold knight's helmet. It looked ancient and Maximilian found himself drawn to it. The inscription underneath the helmet read, "Jedi Crusader helmet - First age of expansion". Maximilian reached out to touch the exquisite work, but a cold voice from behind him stayed his hand.

"That display is fragile, feel free to observe, but refrain from touching it." Maximilian turned around to see a man, or, rather, a humanoid. The figure was wearing the white and gold outfit of a grand admiral (the highest rank in the imperial navy) and had a cobalt medal on the right side of his chest depicting the same snake pattern found on the door. The figure had icy blue skin and blood red eyes. As it spoke, it pronounced each syllable meticulously, as if a single grammatical mistake could mean the difference between life and death. "I would like to apologize for the civilian maintenance crews. They need more time to adjust to some of our updated protocols. Had we caught you sooner, you would have been led here with dignity befitting a captain of the Empire."

"I appreciate the hospitality", Maximilian said dryly, "But the Dévastation has never received overhauls of this magnitude without my consent. With all due respect 'Grand Admiral', who are you and what are you doing on Kuat?"

Unlike many other imperial admirals, the figure did not lash out at Maximilian for questioning his authority. Instead, it kept the same cold, calculating disposition as it answered Maximilian's question. "My name is Mitth'raw'nuruodo, but I accept the name of Thrawn while I am in the service of this empire. It is understandable that you do not know me for I have not been in the larger picture for some years. If it would help to spark your memory, I led my fleet against the rebel sect known as Phoenix Squadron. External circumstances took me out of action before I could strike the final blow, but I had gotten close. Much closer to eliminating the rebel threat than any of my peers in the years that followed." Thrawn paused, as if he was searching for the proper terminology for his next sentence. "I have returned back to this theater of war to find that very little has changed. The Rebellion still grows stronger, and the Empire continues to weaken. What you see around you is my attempt to correct this."

Maximilian furrowed his brow as he tried to process what the blue humanoid had said. The name Thrawn had circulated amongst the Naval academy when Maximilian first applied. It was a topic of somber conversation amongst the older cadets, but it was always abandoned soon after Maximilian joined the conversations. Still, Maximilian thought he remembered the story. "Thrawn… you were the admiral in charge of the Seventh Fleet, weren't you? By the stars, I thought you were dead!"

"It is satisfying to see the legacy of my deeds have endured my departure from the Empire. As for the news of my death, it was exaggerated." Maximilian started to grow nervous. "What do you mean 'departure from the Empire?" Dread started to gnaw at the back of Maximilian's mind. Surely Kuat, the planet that had weaned Maximilian on the Imperial truths of unity, strength, and honor, had not fallen to the ruthless savagery and anarchy of the rebellion.

Thrawn walked around the table to view the art gallery beside Maximilian. He gazed at the rebel graffiti for several moments before he next spoke. "I am not a turncoat for the Rebellion, captain. They would still see me dead if given the chance. No, my goal is the survival of the galaxy, and at this moment, that means the evolution and preservation of the Empire."

The Grand Admiral gestured to the knight helmet Maximilian had been studying. "You have the eye of one who can appreciate history, captain. Thrawn then led Maximilian to a row of three objects near the back of the display. One was a large stone slab with primitive cave drawings upon it, one was a tapestry that had adorned an ancient monastery, and one was a metal vase adorned with a black paint. The centerpiece of each of these artworks was an arrowhead of nine planets. Though their proportions were off and their distances from each other varied greatly from piece to piece, Maximilian recognized the pattern formed as the planets of the Eastern core worlds. These twelve planets had always been the center of civilization for the galaxy. With the destruction of Alderran, the number of planets in the Eastern Core had been reduced to eleven. "Each of these relics depict the height of their respective empires", said Thrawn. "This stone slab dates back to the first Sith kingdoms and the formation of the Jedi knights. The tapestry is from the xenith of the old republic. The vase can be traced back to when Mandalore the Ultimate led his conquests. All of these empires held the cradle of the galaxy without the need to completely destroy a planet. Palpatine was the only person in recorded history to do so. Yet, the galaxy still resists him. It takes a truly feeble leader to fail as spectacularly as he has."

Had Maximilian been nine years younger and fresh out of the Naval academy, he would have reprimanded the Admiral for slander against the Emperor. However, times had changed. Very few people in the imperial Navy had supported the destruction of Alderran. In fact, most of the admiralty thought the Death Star was meant to punch though planetary shields, not to destroy whole planets. Maximilian had known a couple enseignes from Alderaan. Unsurprisingly, they were nowhere to be found after the planet's destruction. The extermination of Alderaan, along with Palpatine's dismissal of the Imperial Senate, had shaken the Empire to the core. Soldiers and pilots had been deserting in droves, and the once mighty imperial fleet had started to weaken. However, the alternative to the Empire was Anarchy. Maximilian had spent much of his time patrolling the smuggling routes and cartel territories around Malastare, and had seen firsthand what lawlessness wrought. The Dévastation had captured several cartel strongholds, and Maximilian had scene evidence of slavery, torture, and butcheries of every sort. When Mon Mothma formed the Rebellion, everyone in the Imperial admiralty suspected she got her weapons and other supplies from cartels, and if she won, the cartels, not the "New Republic", would be the ones to rule the galaxy.

After Alderran, people began to see the ruthless pirates, thugs, smugglers, murderers, and terrorists of the rebellion as the lesser of two evils. Had it not been for his experience in cartel space, Maximilian would have been lured in by the honeyed words of the rebellion as well. "Hope" they called it. Maximilian saw through that. In his eyes, the only things the rebels actually hoped for were opportunities to plunder more imperial cargo ships, to gut newly enlisted crewmembers and to sell the uniforms for cheap booze and drugs. Maximlian had been scowling as he thought the situation over and Thrawn had noticed. The grand admiral was scanning Maximilian's face like one would read a map of terrain prior to launching an assault. He then spoke again. "Palpatine and his fold are the key to this, Captain. If Palpatine could be relieved of duty, deserters would flow back to the empire instead of into the hands of the rebellion. We could salvage what is left of our crumbling domain and build a better, unified galaxy. The fruits of our labors would finally come to bear."

Maximilian froze. "The fruits of our labors." He remembered Needa's letter adorning Cynthia's stasis chamber. He remembered the feeling of powerlessness and how the destroyer around him had become small and insignificant by comparison. Now, after realizing Cynthia had been murdered by Vader, Maximilian felt that he had helped kill her by serving Palpatine. If Maximilian did nothing, the fruits of his labors would only amount to the body in his backyard and the expensive inscription that commemorated a life far more valuable. Maximilian was silent for several long moments. The most important decision of his life was at hand. "Admiral", he began, " I commit myself to your cause. We will reform the Empire and preserve it against those who would see it fall. In doing so, may the galaxy finally know peace. I only ask that if we capture Vader, I be allowed to speak with him before we lay him in front of a firing line." The admiral nodded. "You will need this then." The admiral unbuttoned the pin from his chest and handed it to Maximilian. "This is a Chimera. It is a great serpent that adapts and transforms to match the circumstance. So too must we in these daunting times. Go forth Maximilian de la Château, a captain of The Empire of the Hand.

A New Era

(One week until the battle of Endor - Kuat - Empire of the Hand center of operations)

Maximilian had spent his first several weeks as a captain of the Empire of the Hand learning the extent of their military forces and trying to pick up what had already been done. To Maximilian's great relief, many of the imperial deserters, such as the legions that had abandoned the Executor, had actually reenlisted under Thrawn's banner. He also learned that The Empire of the Hand had been forming discreetly on Kuat for years. Palpatine had been economically exploiting Kuat for decades, and people were tired of it. Many of Kuat's destroyers were bought on imperial credit, and, if the manufacturers protested, they could be disappeared by ISB agents or stormtroopers. However, Much of the planet still loathed the rebellion, especially the ship builders and freight haulers whose product had been stolen to fuel the rebel war machine. One thing was constant though, Kuat seemed to be in a state of indescribable anxiety, like there was a storm coming that could be felt more than seen. Maximilian had picked up on this when he had introduced himself to the other captains and admirals residing in the bunker. They had been cordial enough, but they all seemed distracted. More often than not, the older commanders would spend more time checking their PDAs for time and news updates than they would making eye contact with each other. This wasn't meant to be cruel or shunning, Maximilian had seen that before. These were the signs of men and women with preoccupied minds. Something big was coming, and Maximilian was sure he would be made aware soon enough.

The bulk of Thrawn's high staff were older commanders who had served during the Clone Wars. They had not been indoctrinated by Palpatine's propaganda from a young age, so they still held values of their own. This was not to say there weren't young commanders. Maximilian was relatively young, and there was Captain Balao, who had secretly defected days after Maximilian. There was McDonnah, the Dévastation's first mate, and there was general Veers, who commanded The Empire of the Hand's ground troops.

Maximilian had great respect for Veers. The man had started off as a sergeant of the imperial army, and had managed to rise all the way to the rank of general without the use of political favors. Veers had been the one to orchestrate the siege of the rebel base on Hoth, and it was said that Vader was breathing down his neck throughout the entire operation. The Fact that Veers had remained alive after the botched Hoth campaign was a testament to his military expertise. On the other hand, the presence of captain Balao had surprised Maximilian. He had seen her destroyer, the Rampage, escorting the Executor barely a month ago, so she was freshly deserted. She had only recently graduated from the Naval academy, which demonstrated that Palpatine's propaganda either lost its gravity or she had an especially strong will. Maximilian suspected the latter. Balao was a short woman, being only Five or so feet tall, but she carried herself with an iron determination that filled the room. She reminded Maximilian of a pit fighting dog. Finally there was McDonnah. Apparently, he had turned to Thrawn while acting as the de facto captain of the Dévastation. This was when Maximilian had been trying to find leads on Cynthia's death, so he had no idea that McDonnah, and, by extension, the Dévastation had already turned against Palpatine. According to the Engineering staff, McDonnah was the one who signed off on the Dévastation's refitting. It had been the right move, but the fact that McDonnah had gone behind his back still infuriated Maximilian.

When Maximilian first spotted McDonnah in the bunker's cafeteria, he was determined to make the first mate aware of his feelings. McDonnah had been waiting in line to grab a serving of mashed potatoes when he heard a voice call out from the other side of the cafeteria, "McDonnah, may I have a word!" The first mate turned around and dropped his trey as he saw Maximilian walking across the food court. He sputtered out, "Captain, the new uniform fits you well, see I …" Maximilian grabbed McDonnah by the arm and pulled him in for a hug. Maximilian then released him and said, "I told you you could have the Dévastation when I'm dead. As you can see, I'm not. Was my order confusing to you?"

"No"

"Have you recently developed damage to your frontal cortex?"

"No"

"Then why did you disobey me?"

"Captain, we all know, the crew and myself I mean, we all know you hate the rebels. We just weren't sure how you were going to take the news of a coup. We thought we'd ease you into it as soon as you resolved your personal issues. Judging by the way you were acting when you boarded the Executor, we thought you wouldn't mind much."

"You made both a brilliant decision and a horrible error, McDonnah. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for leading me to this (gesturing around), but never go behind my back again, until you get your own ship that is."

"Aye Aye cap'n"

Suddenly, an all hands address came over the loudspeakers. "All command personnel report to the debriefing hall at 15:00. I repeat, all command personnel report to the debriefing hall at 15:00". McDonnah cracked a grin as he picked up his trey. "Looks like you'll have to finish your tongue lashing some other time, captain. We got places to be."

The debriefing hall was one of the deepest sections of the base. It had thick, concrete support columns descending from the ceiling, and monitors hanging every 50 feet to relay information for those who stood too far away to see the presenters. At the bottom of the hall, was an elevated podium upon which a hologram projector stood. Grand admiral Thrawn and several other commanders (including Veers) stood in the center podium while officers, captains, and lesser admirals filled the seats that rose up several stories above. Maximilian's seat was only three rows away from the presentation platform, so he did not need to use a monitor to see what was being presented. His personal desk had an intercom, a glass of water, a virtual display screen, and a piece of paper for personal notes. Maximilian felt nostalgic in the room. He had not been in a lecture hall like this since his time in the academy.

As the last of the officers filled the seats above, Thrawn started to speak. "For the last several months we have been working tirelessly to improve the star destroyers of our fleet. Thanks to the efforts of our military and civilian crews, we have been able to complete these refits on schedule." The data pad on Maximilians desk lit up with the blueprints of the refurbished vessels as Thrawn continued. "These new destroyers have been outfitted with increased anti starfighter defense systems, heavy torpedo launchers, reinforced armor around the bridge, reactor, and engine, and, most importantly, eight heavy ion cannons. The specific details have been sent to those of you who have been qualified to receive the changes." Maximilian was stunned. No refit this large could have been done in so little time with a standard imperial maintenance crew. Vast swaths of Kuat's shipbuilders must have swarmed in to finish the project. If this was any indication, most of Kuat was on their side.

"Some of you may be wondering why we chose to install heavy ion cannons instead of a more offensive system" Thrawn continued. While our new destroyers can win any engagement with a standard imperial destroyer, we do not have the numbers to win a prolonged conflict. The loyalist fleet (the term The Empire of the Hand used for those who still followed palpatine) still outnumbers us two to one. We need to capture as many ships as possible during our initial operations, otherwise, we won't be able to hold Kuat or any of our captured territories. We will also need these new craft to defend against this". The hologram projector at the base of the lecture hall turned on and emitted a large spherical projection. It had the appearance of a partially melted snowball and had a giant funnel in its northwestern quadrant. It was another Death Star.

An admiral two rows below Maximilian activated his intercom. "This can't be! The Empire could barely afford the construction of the first Death Star, and the loss of that battlestation crippled the Navy! How could Palpatine build another one!"

"An excellent question", Thrawn responded. "Palpatine and Admiral Firmus have been absorbing Shipbuilding companies in Courescont and Corellia. The technicians within these worlds effectively have a blaster to their heads. For the last year, not a single new warship has been made on these worlds. It has all been funneled to the Endor system. I know it sounds irrational, but Palpatine is an irrational person. Make no mistake, there is a new Death Star."

There was outcry in the stands, but it was silenced when Thrawn raised his hand. Our agents at Endor have confirmed that Palpatine plans to use this battlestation to wipe out the rebel fleet. Our few remaining spies aboard the rebel flagships have also confirmed there is a strike planned for a target within the Endor system. Our projected timeframe is seven days." There was a chorus of disgruntled conversations as the men and women in the lecture hall tried to process this. Thrawn let it carry on for a minute before he tapped his microphone and continued. "I fought the rebels, as have most of you. They are competent pilots and are experts in asymmetrical warfare. However, they have never fared well in drawn out naval battles. If the rebel fleet does take the bait and engages Palpatine and Firmus at Endor, they will be wiped out. Palpatine will then be free to use his new battlestation to exact vengeance upon whichever worlds he sees fit. We are not going to let that happen."

Thrawn looked directly at Maximilian and shifted his gaze to captain Balao . "There are two captains amongst us who had accepted Firmus's invitation to Endor prior to defecting. We can use this as a chance to cripple or destroy the new Death Star. During the refit of their ships, the Dévastation and Rampage, we transferred their transponders onto two unaltered star destroyers. The destroyers carrying these transponders are decoys, and will be filled with thermal charges. While Firmus's fleet is occupied with the rebels, these fire ships will be sent in to either cripple or destroy the Death Star." Another picture appeared on the data pad. It was a blue square with a "Yes" and a red square with a "No". Thrawn paused long enough for the people in attendance to notice. "Although this battle station was built in secret, and for an evil purpose, it will still contain many innocent individuals. I do not doubt that some of you may have friends and family who were unknowingly sent to work on the Death Star. This is why we will give you a vote. If the fire ships crash into the main weapon of the Death Star, it will render the station inoperable. We will have to follow up this strike with an invasion of the battlestation, which could still fail, but we would be saving millions of innocent imperial lives. Sending both destroyers into the exposed superstructure of the Death Star will be capable of splitting the battle station in two. Millions will die, but we would eliminate any chance of the weapon being turned against the galaxy. You may take your data pads with you. If we get a higher "Yes'' count, we will attempt to destroy the battlestation. If we get a higher "No" count, we will attempt to cripple it and launch an invasion. You will have until tomorrow evening to cast your vote. After that, your data pads will give you your individual assignments. Dismissed."

It was nighttime by the end of the meeting and Maximilian retired to his chambers in the underbelly of the base. There were no windows, and the walls were bleak concrete, but Maximilian had been too busy to care. He had already been aware of the movement of men and resources out of Corellia and Coruscant to the Endor system, but he anticipated it was Firmus gaining more assets for the fight with the rebel fleet. He would never have guessed that another Death star had been constructed. It had taken nearly 30 years to build the first one. If Thrawn's intel was correct, the second battle station would have gone up in a mere four years! Maximilian prayed that the intel was wrong. He prayed that Endor was just a secret shipyard or that the men being moved there were only meant to keep the ailing warships (like the Executor) running. Even so, the intelligence gathered by the Empire of the Hand had rarely been wrong. It was the reason why neither the Imperial Security Bureau nor the rebellion knew about the organization. Thrawn's spies were trained incredibly well, and his large diversity of agents, along with their plethora of different methods and espionage styles, made it exceedingly difficult to pin them down. It was the secret weapon of the Empire of the Hand, and it had kept them alive. Now, Maximilian had to take their word on something that seemed impossible.

"Very well. What is the harm of sending the fireships", Maximilian said to himself. "Maybe they will take out Vader's transport as well." Still, there posed the question of whether the death star was to be completely destroyed. Maximilian imagined the fear that must have gone through the people of Alderann as their planet vaporized. He wagered the same fear had gone through the crewmembers of the first death star as it exploded over Yavin IV. The thought of helplessly watching as millions of your comrades fell, only for yourself to follow made Maximilian shudder. That concluded his mind. Maximilian walked over to his data pad and clicked "No", indicating to only cripple the battlestation. Perhaps that would be enough to make people truely abandon Palpatine.

The Chimera insignia applied to the ventral side of the Dévastation.

The Formal insignia for the Empire of the Hand

Upon the Precipice

Maximilian spent the next morning studying in the base's viewing pavilion. Outside, blanketed in fog, was the Dévastation. Her last ion turret was being lowered into dorsal barbette, and the last of the ship's warpaint was being applied. Maximilian found the twin snakes or "chimera" representing the Empire of the Hand to be a little dramatic. The twisting snakes could be visible on the destroyer's ventral and dorsal side from orbit, and the dark blue contrasted heavily with the standard white of the destroyer's hull. However, it was still necessary to differentiate the Hand's vessels from the loyalists, and the snakes definitely did the job.

Captain Balao noticed Maximilian and sat next to him. She was carrying several data pads and looked like she was only running on caffeine pills. After an informal exchange of salutes between the two, Balao was the first to speak. "I never thought my ship, or a ship that's supposed to be mine, would be directly responsible for imperial deaths." She shook her head. "Somehow it doesn't feel right. I feel like I've joined the rebellion or something." Maximilian turned towards her and spoke in a clear, serious tone. "No. I've seen what the rebellion really is, and this isn't it. We are fighting to correct the Empire, not to carve it up and devour it." Maximilian took in a slow breath. I've served the Empire for a long time. Not as long as Thrawn or the Clone Wars veterans, but long enough. I used to look up at Palpatine and see a leader, someone who could unify the galaxy and bring lasting peace. I learned the hard way that he is no better than the rebel warlords we have been fighting. This Empire means something. Safety, security, unity. None of that matters to Palpatine. To him, we are just disposable pawns to further his personal games." Balao looked at him. "How do you know though, that Palpatine is only in it for himself ?"

"Vader was sent to supervise the Hoth campaign." Maximilian responded. "After the battle, he killed someone … very dear to me. He never faced justice, even though so many people knew he was a killer. You don't get that level of protection without the Emperor's blessing." Maximilian laughed coldly. "If that's not enough, look at Alderaan, look at Scariff, look at the first death star, look at the conflicting imperial casualty records! We have been fighting a war on two fronts, and it's taken us far too long to notice."

The all hands address blared over the base's loudspeakers and people started to descend back into the debriefing hall. As they got up, Maximilian said, "Good luck captain Balao . No matter what happens here, we'll be fighting to save lives."

By the time Maximilian found his seat in the lecture hall, Grand Admiral Thrawn was already stepping onto the podium. He activated the hologram projector which displayed a chart of the Death Star vote. In total, 21% of people had voted to completely destroy the Death Star and 79% had voted to cripple it. Thrawn didn't need to say anything more. It was decided. The Grand Admiral then turned the hologram slide to a galactic map and started talking. "Once we cripple the Death Star, Firmus's fleet will be our main issue. At present, we are outnumbered. That is why our first strike needs to be swift and deep. When the fighting at Endor begins, we will take Kuat. This should not be difficult. Most of the planet is already faithful to the Empire of the Hand. The only Loyalist strongholds are the capitol and the Sienar manufacturing yards. Both will have to be taken by the army within a single day." A captain way in the back activated his intercom and asked, "What about Coruscant? They still have a sizeable defense fleet. Wouldn't they send a retaliatory strike?"

"An astute observation", Thrawn replied. The hologram projected a loyalist super star destroyer and a 3D map of Kuat and her moon. "This is the Pride of the Core. It is the only operational super star destroyer left in the core systems. Once we expel the loyalists from Kuat, I have no doubt it will be sent here to take out our fleet. That is why we will feign a fleeing maneuver to the far side of the planet, between the rings and the moon. If the crew of this super star destroyer are as inexperienced as I have heard, they will take the bait and pursue. A small group of torpedo ships and escorting destroyers will emerge from the far side of the moon and take out the Pride's engines and repulsorlift systems. The ship will crash onto the moon and will be taken out of combat. That will solidify our hold on Kuat and will rally other core worlds to our cause."

"As for Firmus, his fleet will be an immediate threat. We will need to buy time to repair the Pride of the Core and to finish the other two super star destroyers being constructed in Kuat's rings. This is why two thirds of our fleet will depart Kuat shortly before the fighting at Endor starts. You will be capturing or destroying fuel and ammunition deposits across the southern half of the galaxy, effectively blocking Firumus's route back to the core systems. Firmus cannot navigate through the gravity wells in the deep core, so we will be ignoring Endor's immediate neighbors. Instead, we will strike targets at Sullust, Bespin, Mustafar, Mugaar, Eriadu, and Kelada. Without proper fuel or ammunition stores, Firmus will have to cannibalize from his smaller destroyers. He will either scuttle them or leave them to drift after transferring their assets to the Executor. Either is a win for us. We will send in salvage craft to claim them afterwards. If Firmus does arrive at Kuat, his fleet will be incredibly weak and the Executor will no longer have a capable escort. We will then use our accumulated fleet to tear apart the Executor's bridge and capture the vessel. The capture of the Executor will prompt the remaining Loyalists in Firmus's fleet to surrender. From there, we finalize plans for the siege of the crippled Death Star. Any questions?"

There were questions for about an hour, the bulk of which pertained to the threat of Coruscant and the northern section of the galaxy. Most of Thrawn's answers boiled down to the northern regions being too war torn to pose much of a threat and Coruscant falling to starvation once the other core planets were captured. Overall, the fleet had a solid strategy. It was also during this question session that the officers received their individual missions on their data pads. Maximilian looked down at his PDA and felt a spark of anger tug at his heart when he saw the planet Ryloth depicted. Ryloth was in the southern bisection of the galaxy, but it was on the opposite side to Endor, not to mention it was hundreds of thousands of light years away from Kuat! It was as far away from the action as one could feasibly imagine. There was a snowball's chance in hell that Vader would be in this corner of the galaxy, and Firmus would only go there if he was truly desperate. Maximilian felt like he was being thrown away.

A couple hours after the lecture hall had cleared, Maximilian approached the durasteel doors marking Thrawn's personal meeting room. He was not going to miss out on his chance to exact vengeance on Vader and Firmus. As Maximilian got closer to the doors, two of the cobalt death troopers stepped out from behind him. By now, it was obvious they had cloaking devices. "I would like to speak with the Grand Admiral,'' Maximilian began. "It pertains to my current mission." One of the death troopers deactivated its noise canceller and responded, "The Grand Admiral is in a meeting, you will have to wait." Maximilian obliged and took a seat along a hallway bench. During this time, he reviewed his current assignment.

The mission overview said he was supposed to capture the orbital dockyards around Ryloth, secure the planet's weapon factories, and to apprehend the loyalist admiral Perth if possible. Maximilian was going to read more, but the two death troopers opened the doors and several army personnel (including Veers) walked out. Thrawn was the last to leave the room and silently beckoned Maximilian inside.

"You wish to stay at Kuat?" Thrawn began.

"Yes sir. This is my homeworld, and I am honor-bound to defend it. I also presumed Firmus was our main concern, not Perth." Thrawn took Maximilian's data pad from his hand and plugged it into the hologram projector on the marble table. "Captain Maximilian, you will get a chance to fight Firmus, and perhaps Vader, but it would be foolish to attack them immediately. None of our task forces are expected to engage Firmus's fleet for long if he is encountered in our raids. We don't have the numbers or resources yet. In addition, I am not yet certain how you would respond should Firmus goade you. You do have a record of taking your battles a bit … personally."

Maximilian hated it, but the admiral had a point. Years ago, Maximilian had engaged a rebel attack carrier over Malastare. It had been going well, until rebel bombers started making runs for the Dévastation's bridge. The shield had taken the blasts, but the sheer intrepidity of the rebel pilots (who were taunting the destroyer and her crew over the intercom as they passed by) had nearly driven Maximilian into a frenzy. He had pursued the rebel carrier for hundreds of parsecs across the sector, and had willingly walked into a Rebel trap to finish it off. By the end of the battle, the Dévastation had destroyed two rebel battlecruisers and the carrier, but the ship was badly damaged and Maximilian had lost an escort cruiser. If he showed the same recklessness with Firmus, the Dévastation would fall.

"I understand sir", Maximilian said with no small amount of gravel in his voice. Thrawn turned the page on the data pad and a projection of a slender, yet massive (not Death Star levels of big but still big) ground mounted cannon came into view. "This is a hyper velocity cannon", Thrawn said. "It is a rare weapon once thought impossible to construct. Perth has just proved us wrong. Our probe droids picked up an intense radiation discharge around Ryloth several months ago, and we have been watching the planet ever since. Listening posts in nearby systems tracked wreckage from a Rebel battlecruiser exiting Ryloth space at nearly the speed of light. Only a blast from a projectile traveling at super-light speed would have been able to fragment and hurl a ship in such a manner. We have come to assume that at least one hyper velocity cannon has been completed and is stationed somewhere on Ryloth. Not only is this weapon a superb planetary defense system, but I believe it could help us in our siege of the Death Star." Maximilian and Thrawn both took a seat as the hologram turned to a map of Ryloth. "You do have flaws in your naval combat doctrine, captain. However, your prowess in planetary siege warfare is second to none in our new empire. I am not sending you to Ryloth to escape the fighting, I'm sending you to where the fighting will be the fiercest." Maximilian nodded. "You have my interest sir."

For the next six days, Maximilian prepared for the upcoming battle. He had his battery crews drill like they had never done before. He had his engineering crews run hundreds of engine failure scenarios. He spent hours upon hours memorizing the arid landscape of Ryloth until he could identify regions by the most minimal landmark. Most importantly, he familiarized himself with the people and starships that would be accompanying him for this mission.

The task force responsible for capturing Ryloth was composed of twelve ships. There were three modified star destroyers captained by Maximilian, Balao, and McDonnah. There were four heavy torpedo ships which were there to defend against corvettes or waves of fighters. There were two carriers, whose starfighters would launch ground strikes as the destroyers crippled Perth's orbital platforms. Finally, there were three heavy assault ships, which would ferry Veers and his assault force onto the planet. The destroyers and bombers would prevent Perth's capital ships from launching, the starfighters would clear the way for the assault ships, and Veers would take the hyper velocity cannon and its surrounding facility. The plan was set.

Soon it was time to launch and Maximilian stood underneath the overhang of the Dévastation. All around him, ships were being loaded with weapons and pre-flight checks were being done. The previous night, the transmitter Maximilian had received from Firmus had gone off (as had a similar device held by Balao). It was a sign that the battle of Endor was about to begin. Maximilian looked out over the expansive runway and saw Veers's men board the assault ships. To Maximilian, they looked like a massive wave of jet black wasps entering their hives.

The Empire of the Hand's ground forces were largely composed of imperial army troops, not stormtroopers. The army troopers were distinguishable by their black, heavy armor and gas masks. They were not nearly as nimble as stormtroopers, nor were they as well equipped or trained, but they were better armored. The imperial army had seen much more action than the stormtrooper corps, and there was great animosity between the two branches because of this. The stormtroopers viewed the army like a mob of expendable dolts and the army viewed the stormtroopers like a glorified police force. Needless to say, the ground war was going to be vicious.

General Veers walked up to Maximilian and admired the Dévastation for a moment. He had the same black flack suit he had worn during the Hoth campaign and carried a thick, twisting scar on his face from when a rebel snowspeeder had kamikazed into his command walker. Maximilian and Veers exchanged salutes and Veers was the first to speak. "I have already addressed my troops, but I would like you to throw in a word as well. The men would like to know what kind of person has our backs in orbit, as do I." Maximilian agreed and followed Veers to the assault craft. Inside were rows of ATATs, ATSTs, self propelled guns, and juggernauts. "Officer on deck!", Veers said and the army men stood at attention. "At ease", Maximilian said. He looked around at the group assembled in the ship and spreading out onto the runway. They all looked tired. Old blaster marks could be seen on their armor and old scars adorned every other man. Maximilian took a breath and stepped forwards. "Men, we have been fighting for a long time. Longer than any of us had hoped for. I look around and I see the faces of veterans. I see faces that have been witness to terrors no man, no being should ever see in a lifetime. We all signed up to uphold peace and prosperity across the galaxy, and we paid heavily for it. You (pointing to the troops) are the chevaux de guerre, the warhorses of the galaxy. You have been through more combat, pacified more worlds, and suffered more tragedies than any opponent that has been assembled against you. We fight a war on two fronts. Palpatine is bending the galaxy to his own twisted will while the rebels plunder the worlds left defenseless by his incompetence. We are the last bulwark. As the tide rises to destroy the galaxy, we will hold strong just as we have with the hundreds of battles we have weathered before. Palpatine made a mistake disregarding us as cannon fodder, for in his cradle of power, he is ignorant to the true storm coming his way. Fight for your comrades, for your loved ones, for your homeworlds, for the Galaxy!

Goober fishing

(Some time after Vivian's confession / present - Southern Sobayaki farmland on the Bamptha river)

Jaeleno beheld the white, broiling rapids of the Bamptha river. The sun sat obscured over the hills, and the sound of frogs could be heard reverberating throughout the valley. Behind him, just in front of a thick wood were Abercrombie, Vivian, and Yafu Malik. Abercrombie was stooped over a campfire, cooking thick pancakes on a metal skillet. Nearby, Vivian and Yafu sat on foldable yard chairs. Vivian's juggernaut was a couple hundred feet downstream, near a bend in the river. Its front right tire was being lapped at by the hungry current as construction droids performed some routine mechanical checks.

It had been a couple weeks since Vivian's "intervention". Surprisingly, she had done a fair deal of talking. She told Abercrombie and Jaeleno about her time on Ryloth, about her treatment under loyalist rule, and how the Empire of the Hand had liberated the planet. She said she was a survey agent sent to appraise the likelihood of the New Republic going to war with the new empire. Jaeleno suspected she was only giving a fraction of the story, but he felt that what she did say was sincere. Besides, she seemed more reasonable than Mutsa Wusha and, to the best of his knowledge, Vivian's money was legit. Abercrombie, on the other hand, was leery about working with Vivian. The night after they had a talk in Vivian's juggernaut, he stayed awake in the rafters above Jaeleno's mattress, holding the farm's cycler rifle. He kept expecting Vivian to crawl in through the window or emerge through the floorboards like a Nos Verato of the night, but it never happened, not yet anyway. No matter how much he protested, Jaeleno wouldn't ditch the Twi'lek. In return for her "transparency", Jaeleno let Vivian stay on the Sobayaki property. He also promised her she would be accessing the capital within the month. The two conditions were that she would continue her financial assistance and she would lend them the Juggernaut for a (hopefully) simple job.

Jaeleno cleared his throat as Abercrombie passed everyone breakfast. "I've gathered you all today to take part in a brilliant plan of my own design", he said. "My Fluffffff eggs have been of a poorer quality since I changed the recipe, which is dangerous when one of my clients is an ill tempered Hutt. I will need an imperial stasis chamber if I am to return to my old standard while still being able to produce Fluffff eggs in bulk." He threw down a hologram projector and a shaky picture appeared on the ground. It outlined the breaking yards outside of Yafu Malik's house. "These breaking yards are closed in observance of Alderaan day tomorrow. They will be completely deserted except for a couple security droids. This is where …"

"We know the plan", said Yafu. "You've given this presentation twice already."

"Let him finish", responded Vivian. "He may have changed something again."

Yafu had been told that Vivian was a wealthy Twi'lek prospector and engineer who was looking to mine on Sobyaki land. In exchange, she would launder money for the Sobayaki drug business. So far, Yafu had bought it. "Plans that constantly need change rarely produce success", Yafu remarked. Jaeleno had let Yafu stay on the farm until the cop presence in "Mothmatown" died off. In return, Yafu would help retrieve the stasis chamber. Jaeleno trusted Yafu (and had for the last seven years), but the old pilot's constant pessimism had started to annoy the group. "My previous plans had minor flaws which I have now ironed out", responded Jaeleno. "This is my final iteration, and if you have any constructive criticism, please save it for the end." Yafu crossed his arms as Jaeleno continued.

"The Bamphta run (gesturing behind him) flows east for 61 miles until it joins an estuary by the coast. We will follow the shoreline of this river disguised as very serious gooberfish hunters, or I guess you'd call them goober fishermen. Abercrombie has prepared some convincing IDs for the plant and wildlife service should they spot us." Abercrombie hopped in front of Vivian and Yafu and handed them their fake fishing licenses (giving Vivian a dirty eye while doing so). The gooberfish or Opee sea killer, as it was lesser known, was an invasive species that had been introduced into Chandrillan waters from Naboo. They never stopped growing and ravaged entire ecosystems. In response, the Chandrillan plant and wildlife service started giving out Goober Fishing licenses. The government paid 50 credits per 100 pounds of goober landed and killed. Ever since they started giving out these licenses, more and more extreme methods had been employed to land a goober. It was not entirely uncommon to see old rebel battlecruisers out on the water with cannons refitted to fire harpoons. With this in mind, a juggernaut trundling along a river would not look that suspicious. There was a problem though. Getting an ID would mean submitting one's address to the feds. Jaeleno didn't want this, so he had Abercrombie create the four fake IDs. They all led back to an affluent neighborhood hundreds of miles to the north, far away from Sobayaki business.

Vivian studied her ID closely. It wasn't the quality she was used to, but for a small fish in a big pond, Abercrombie had done an excellent job at making the IDs convincing. "How long did it take you to make this, Abercrombie?", she asked. Abercrombie fumbled for the switch on his translator before responding, "Three days of paperwork and plastic smithing, 10 years of law study. Vivian smiled slightly as she carefully slipped the ID into her pocket. She didn't dislike Abercrombie, in fact, she found the lizard monkey adorable with his little knapsack and his refined etiquette. However, she would not underestimate his intellect again. If she had to turn on these drug dealers, he would be the first she would have to deal with.

"This will be the easy part", Jaeleno announced. "Vivian and I will sit on top of the Juggernaut and look like fishermen while Yafu and Abercrombie drive. This way, there will be less suspicion about what we are actually doing. It will be noon by the time we hit the estuary. Abercrombie and I will cook up whatever goobers we catch while we wait for dark. Yafu will then take us under."

"This plan is idiotic", Yafu interrupted. "I have friends that can get us into the scrapping yards as part of a tour group. I'll stage a medical episode and you guys just start walking off the path. Bang! You're in the scrapping yards with no strings attached."

"There are plenty of strings attached", Vivian responded. She was annoyed by Yafu much more severely than either Abercrombie or Jaeleno. He reminded Vivian of herself before she became a spy (and went clean) and she hated him for it. "That path will be monitored by security cameras, we will be given tracking bracelets, and we will have a direct escort of security droids", Vivian continued. "I'd prefer to slip in unnoticed altogether." Yafu threw up his hands and said "Fine, overly complicated plan it is then."

Jaeleno was silent for several moments to make sure the two were done. He then pressed a button on the hologram projector which revealed a path going down the coastline from the estuary to the breaking yards. "At sunset, we will descend into the water and follow this path that Abercrombie has charted for us. It will avoid the common commercial fishing routes and we should be well clear of federal patrol craft. Well, for most of it anyway. That is where Ms. Vivian's Juggernaut truly comes into its own. Her "company" has equipped the vehicle with an electronic countermeasure room which she will operate to keep unwanted eyes off us. Yafu, your skill as a starfighter pilot will serve us well as we navigate the treacherous terrain. After an hour or so, we will emerge from the water right into the hanger of one of the more intact destroyers and ascend through a maintenance tunnel to the engine deck. We will then travel to the medical ward. From there, the construction droids will help us haul the stasis chamber back down to the juggernaut. With any luck, we will be back here by next evening. Back in business and ready for a major fish fry!"

Despite the fact that the group didn't quite share Jaeleno's optimism, they packed up their breakfast and walked over to the Juggernaut. On top of the hauler was a platform with railings, fishing lines, a recently added heavy cargo crane, and several umbrellas to make it look more like an actual civilian vessel. Inside, the construction droids deactivated themselves and sat charging. Jaeleno had completed the imperative function of packing the Juggernaut's cooler with water, sodas, and the remainder of the Corellian brandy. He had also stowed his portable grill and other cooking supplies amongst the droids in the cargo hold. The group stepped onto the lift and were slowly pulled into the juggernaut. "You all are crazy", Yafu said, but he was chuckling to himself as he said it.

The Juggernaut followed the country roads along the Bamptha river. It was a large vehicle, but not so large as to prevent other commuters from passing. Whenever a line of nimbler vehicles appeared behind them, Abercrombie would pull over and let them pass. No reason attracting unwanted attention with road rage incidents. The group followed these roads for nearly fifty miles, and it had gone surprisingly smoothly. Most of the rural townsfolk who saw them didn't seem particularly alarmed. On two occasions, little kids made the honk symbol with their arm and Abercrombie happily obliged. By the time they reached the estuary, Jaeleno was beaming. His plan had been flawless thus far. Abercrombie's driving had been good, bystanders hadn't been as annoyed as he thought they would have been, and he was being given a chance to strike up a conversation with Vivian. One could even say that getting to know Vivian was the main objective of the mission, not the star destroyer of the stasis pod.

Fish On

It was 10:40 A.M. by the time they got to the federal park surrounding the estuary. Just beyond a thin, wooden fence stood a dense mat of mangrove swamp. Even if they wanted to, they would not be able to plow through such a dense forest. They would have to enter the normal way through the park's main gate. Yafu made a tight right turn and they pulled up next to a ticket booth badly in need of a new siding. A college aged attendee walked out and gawked at the juggernaut. Jaeleno exited out of the service lift to greet him. "Hello there! We're here to do some goober fishing! The going rate for this beach is still 25 credits per person, right?" The youth took his eyes off the juggernaut to face Jaeleno. Just by the look on the kid's face, Jaeleno knew he was in for some bad news. "Sorry sir", the attendant said with a voice crack. "This beach is closed through the weekend in observance of Alderaan Day."

"Is that so?", Jaeleno responded. "You see, we are also here because of Alderaan day. My father in law was from Alderaan, you know."

"My God, I'm so sorry", the attendee replied.

"See, he lost his legs serving the rebellion as a starfighter pilot, but I don't mean to shove that down your throat." Jaeleno leaned closer to the kid, put on a lower, more somber tone, and glanced up at the juggernaut as if he didn't want those inside to hear anything. "My father in law is suffering from memory loss and we want to give him a really good time before he forgets us. I heard we could see the fireworks from this beach, and we thought we'd avoid the large crowds at the capitol. We didn't want to frighten him with a lot of people." Jaeleon gave a performative sigh. "We also didn't know this beach was closed today, otherwise we would have scheduled earlier. The attendee looked down at the ground as he considered this "news". After a couple moments he vanished back inside the ticket booth. Jaeleno's blood turned to ice. He thought that he had been convincing enough. He was even willing to shell out a substantial bribe. Now, he was worried that the youth was calling the authorities.

Abercrombie rolled down the Juggernaut's window and gave Jaeleno a concerned look. If push came to shove, they would have to leave quickly. The attendee walked out from the ticket booth carrying some type of receipt printer. "So, I'm not really supposed to do this", he said. "But, by the force, I'm not going to let an Alderrani veteran be turned away, no sir! If I can get a picture of him with this, along with his fishing licence, I'll print you out an access card. We'll just say you folk came in yesterday though." The ice in Jaeleno's veins melted somewhat. They had their foot in the door, but the camera on the attendee's ticket printer was suspicious. Jaeleno didn't want to leave a paper trail. Unfortunately, Yafu Malik, who had been listening to the entire conversation from his driver's seat, descended down the cargo lift and made the decision for Jaeleno.

"Hello young man!", Yafu began. "You are too kind, truly an exemplary citizen of the New Republic. You make me proud to have served! Now. let's get this picture taken."

"You're quite welcome", the attendee replied. He had briefly looked down at Yafu's legs and now kept his eyes glued firmly to his face. "Would you stand over by the side of the ticket booth so I can get a clear picture?" Yafu nodded, handed over his fake fishing licence, and rolled over to one of the peeling walls. He smiled and the attendee took the picture. A ticket was then printed from the attendee's device and he handed it to Yafu. The attendee scrutinized the ID for a moment before returning it to Yafu with a smile. "Enjoy your fishing today, but please don't go too far out if you decide to swim. There's only me present tonight and I won't be able to hear you from my booth if you get in trouble". Both Yafu and Jaeleno thanked the attendee and rode the cargo lift back into the juggernaut. Once the vehicle started moving again, Jaeleno let loose on Yafu.

"You fool! Now they have a record of us being here! If you would have let me talk that guy over, we would have been in without leaving behind a paper trail!" Before Yafu could respond, Vivian walked into the cabin and answered for him. "That wouldn't have worked, Jaeleno. Offering a bribe would have made that attendee more suspicious of us. Yafu went down there because I asked him to."

"I can never deny the request of the ladies", joked Yafu. Vivian stared daggers into the back of Yafu's skull as she continued. While you were talking, I snuck around the back over to the ticket booth's transformer." She looked at one of the juggernaut's time displays before continuing. "I meddled with the data link so the system will shut down and reboot the moment he tries to upload Yafu's picture into a larger network. Considering the condition of the ticket booth, our attendee will probably equate this to a routine error in the system." With that, Vivian exited the cab and climbed back onto the roof of the vehicle.

Yafu raised an eyebrow as he addressed Jaeleno. "Where the hell did you find a specimen like her?" Jaeleno closed the cabin door before responding. "I must have sold my Fluffff eggs to the right business firm. They sent her along with their conditions to launder my money." Yafu got back into the driver's seat. "Take it from me", he said. "Never trust someone who's that well trained."

"Trust has nothing to do with it", Jaeleno responded. "Not yet anyway."

The juggernaut followed a tiny (at least for their vehicle) road through the dense mangrove forest. Several times, thick branches from the trees above would collide with the roof and come crashing down to the pavement. This occurred for several miles until the vehicle emerged from the wood onto an empty beach. To their left, the Bamptha river poured into the ocean. To their right, the mangrove swamp extended for miles. In front of them, the rolling waves of the ocean caught the light of the afternoon sun as they crashed upon the rocky shore. Far off to the North, the breaking yards stood out like decrepit, metal mountains. "This will do nicely!", Jaeleno exclaimed. "Yafu, pull the juggernaut right up to the coast. We can't raid a breaking yard on an empty stomach!" The juggernaut hissed to a stop ten feet from the water. Yafu and Abercrombie took to setting up the grill while Jaeleno rushed to the top of the vehicle with a crate full of expired nerf meat. To Jaeleno's great disappointment, Vivian was not on the roof when he emerged through the dorsal hatch. He knew it wasn't necessary to have two fishermen on top of the juggernaut to sell the act, but it was disappointing to not see her nonetheless. In all honesty, they could have left now and just waited underwater for the sun to go down, but Jaeleno had included this fishing time into his plan specifically to get to know Vivian better.

Jaeleno took a rib of nerf and pressed a button on the Juggernaut's cargo crane control. The hook at the end of the crane passed overhead and Jaeleno waited for it to stop swinging as it lowered to his level. Then, he took the nerf meat and slid the cargo hook between two ribs. This was when the dorsal hatch opened and Vivian emerged. "Where have you been for the last couple minutes?", Jaeleno asked lightly. "I was beginning to think you were running away on us." Vivian gave a lifeless chortle as she unpacked a foldable chair next to the crane. "I was setting up scuttling charges in case we get cornered. It's a process I can't rush."

"Ohh", Jaeleno responded. "Well, uhh, I assume you know how to fish?" Vivian looked up at the cargo crane and then turned her eyes to Jaeleno. "No. I don't actually.. Is this a standard technique?"

"Hardly", responded Jaeleno. We usually use fishing rods only a meter or so long. This equipment is meant for goobers. Wait a second. Isn't Ryloth known for giant, vicious creatures. I thought for sure you would have some death defying fishing story?" A genuine smile appeared on Vivian's face. "You're correct for the first part", she said. "When I was young, I helped my father construct a watchtower for our village. He kept some pretty nasty things away from us with his rifle." A distant look washed over Vivian's face. "That was twenty years ago." Jaeleno noticed Vivian's demeanor change and decided to turn the conversation onto a brighter track. "You know, I've never been to Ryloth. I heard it's beautiful. What can you tell me that doesn't come with a complementary blaster bolt to the head?

"Well, it's great if you like hiking."

"I do hike a bit on my land."

"Ha! Are you talking about your little moraine? I've seen ant hills bigger than that on Ryloth.

"Hold on a second there, what?", Jaeleno asked as he swung the crane in a circle around the juggernaut. He released the hook and let it fly several hundred feet out into the outflow of the Bamtha river. His response to Vivian's claim carried more astonishment than he actually felt, but she either didn't seem to notice or didn't care. "Yeah", she responded. "Ryloth ants are huge and blind as a sarlacc, so they navigate by sound. We could always tell they were coming because of their chirping." Jaeleno tried to piece together the scene Vivian was giving and decided he didn't like it. "Ok, that's a horror story that I'm glad I've never experienced. What do you, the Twi'leks I mean, do to pass the time there? Besides fighting monsters." Vivian looked up and pondered for a moment. "Have you ever ridden a blurrg?" Jaeleno shook his head. "Don't suppose I ever got the chance. I took care of a couple mares for my neighbor a while back. They never let me ride them." Jaeleno could tell that Vivian was dropping her defense slightly. She seemed more relaxed and open than she had the past couple weeks. He was not a spy, but he was a people person enough to notice it. "You probably overfed them", Vivian said. They get lethargic and ornery on full stomachs. "As do I", Jaeleno responded. They both laughed.

Abercrombie attached the fuel tank to the side of the grill and stepped back to observe his work. It was an old grill, but big enough to cook a generous meal on. Yafu stood in the background tightening a loose bolt on his prosthetic leg. In Abercrombie's eyes, Yafu looked disgusting and vulgar, but he also was an excellent businessman for his trade. If it were not for his distribution efforts, the Sobyaki farms would never have gotten off its feet. Besides, he was fairly likable if one got to know him. Abercrombie propped his bamboo fishing rod against the side of the juggernaut as he tied the bait to its line. Back when Abercrombie was a classroom pet at the capitol college, he was able to listen in to a wide variety of lectures. His favorite subjects, besides law, were marine biology and music study. Now, as Abercrombie sat in front of the rolling water, he was able to indulge both those interests. He cast off along the rocky coast of the outflow and waited until the current drew the line taut. He then stuck the rod between several stones and sat down on a nearby park bench. He pulled out his harmonica (a gift Jaeleno had gotten him years ago) and started playing. Meanwhile, he could hear Jaeleno and Vivian laughing on top of the Juggernaut. He thought nothing of it. Jaeleno was probably trying to extract information from the Twi'lek. The more dirt they had on her, the more options they would have if she chose to turn on them.

Yafu limped over and sat down on the other side of the bench. He let Abercrombie finish playing his song before speaking. "I don't know why you all want to wait on this beach, but what do I have to complain about?" Yafu looked around at the mangroves around him and then turned his eyes up towards the evening sky. "How long have I been doing business with you two? Five years? Six years? I honestly can't remember…. Hmph! Time. Amazing how it passes so fast.. Did you overhear Jaeleno's cover story about me?! By the force, what an imagination he has! He should do improv. It'd make him some legal money." There was a moment of silence before Yafu continued. "Listen to me, Abercrombie, you and Jaeleno are young. Too young to be dedicating your lives to this business. After the job is done, I think I'm out for good." Yafu began violently coughing and replaced a battery in his hip. "Look at this place. Imagine being able to come here regularly, without having to bribe the park manager or lie our way across the planet. It would be heaven." Abercrombie watched Yafu with concern. It wasn't like him to be this profound.

Yafu coughed again before continuing. "I know you're good with secrets, so that's why I'm telling you this. I need to get it off my chest. I'm dying. That damn fibber Jaeleno was basically telling the truth back there. We live in an age where planet killers and space wizards apparently exist, but having half your body melted off is still going to take a toll on you. (Coughing again) You know what else will reduce one's life span, Abercrombie? Working with Mutsa Wusha. I recommended her to you guys because I thought you were prepared to move your product in bulk for a short time. Guess I was wrong. You need to understand me, Abercrombie. She's had people killed for late or poor quality shipments before. I'm here because I don't want you guys to keep working for her beyond this delivery. That's how you end up like me. Well, everything besides the legs. You guys need to complete this shipment, go in, get paid, and get out. Nothing else. You have more to live for besides that gilded hutt."

Abercrombie turned on his translator. "I'm sorry to hear that Yafu," he said. "How long do you have?" Yafu dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief before responding. "Five weeks if I'm lucky."

"Five weeks", Abercrombie exclaimed. Isn't there anything the doctors can do? When I was at the university, I heard medical school students talk about regrowing entire bodies."

"Won't work. I'm fused to this thing (hitting his legs). When I was shot down, my cockpit melted around me. It burnt away my muscle and fused to my bone. The benefit is I probably have the largest "medal" of any rebel pilot out there. Not one day has gone by that I am not reminded of my service. Not a single day. You guys helped me escape that reality, and I really have to thank you for that."

Abercrombie stowed his harmonica in his knapsack. "What was the rebellion like, Yafu? I don't mean the tabloid reports on the news. What was it really like?" Yafu stared hard at the water before responding. "Long. Long and bloody. People hear about Alderran of course, but no one really understands how close we were to losing … at every stage of the war. All it would take was one miscalculation, one error in encryption and the entire imperial fleet would be upon us. If a pilot wasn't scared shitless when going out on a mission, then they were either novices or just plain crazy. War, violence even, is not something to aspire to Abercrombie. You got land, you got a farm. Try to make that peaceful life self-sufficient while you can." They were both silent. Abercrombie had never shot anyone, and his decent aim with the farm's cycler rifle was only from hitting soda cans out in the field. He didn't think he could stomach the act of killing a person, and Yafu made the prospect of taking a life all the more horrifying. Yafu was right. Abercrombie and Jaeleno had land. They just needed to find a way to make more money. The sooner they could get out of the drug trade, the better.

Abercrombie was jostled out of his ponderings by a sharp snapping sound. Off to their left, his fishing rod had been split in two and the top half could be seen floating out past the river's outflow. Something had definitely grabbed onto the bait. Yafu pulled out a pair of binoculars and started scanning the water. Meanwhile, Abercrombie leapt off the bench and scampered into the Juggernaut. He skittered from floor to floor until he emerged through the roof's access port. Already on top were Vivian and Jaeleno, who were deep in conversation. Abercrombie cleared his throat and they both turned to face him. "Something big just snapped my line", Abercrombie said. "You might want to be ready with that crane". Jaeleno shot to the cargo crane's control panel and gently tugged back on the control rod. The heavy metal cable started to be slowly drawn back, carrying thick strips of seaweed.

"Shouldn't we leave the bait where it is?" Vivian asked "It would be closer to whatever is out there."

"That works with some fish, but not goobers", Jaeleno responded. "They hunt based on motion and sound. If something is moving, they will be much more likely to bite it. This should be convincing enough." A minute passed, then two. All that could be heard was the metallic grinding of the cable and the SPLAT of seaweed hitting the hull. Then, the nerf rib emerged from the water and bounced from rock to rock before the cable came to a stop. They were green and slimy, but not bitten. "Karrablast.", Jaeleno muttered. "I thought we had it." He then took up the slack, and started rotating the crane around the Juggernaut to build up momentum for another cast. "Come on you crustaceous glutton, this ain't Naboo, and you ain't welcome here!" Jaeleno let the hook loose and it went sailing into the far outlet of the river with a resonating splash. "Nice cast Jaeleno!", Yafu called up from his bench. "Thanks", Jaeleno responded. "I think I could have gotten it out a little further if I had…" "BANG!"

A shudder traveled through the Juggernaut. The crane started swaying wildly as the line flailed back and forth. A loud crack sounded below them and the Juggernaut inched closer to the water. "That was your parking brake that just snapped!", Yafu called out from below. "I can see hydraulic fluid dripping all over your wheels!" Jaeleno, Vivian, and Abercrombie sprinted down two decks in a desperate attempt to get the hauler's main power plant started. Vivian was the most athletic and got to the control panel well before them. She then looked at the ignition slot and almost screamed out in anger. "Where are my keys!". Abercrombie was the second to arrive. He heard her ahead of time and fumbled through his knapsack. The keys weren't in there. It was bad enough that a fish was pulling the Juggernaut in. What was worse was Vivian towering over him. She looked ready to kill something. "I...I don't have the keys", Abercrombie squeaked. "Yafu might have been tightening a screw in his leg with them." Jaeleno then entered the room and asked, "Why aren't we moving?" Without saying anything, Vivian pushed Jaeleno aside and sprinted for the cargo lift. They heard Vivian shout out in fury downstairs and heavy footsteps started back towards the cabin. They also heard a string of venomous Twi'lek exclamations coming from her as she drew closer. Neither Jaeleno nor Abercrombie spoke the language, but they knew it didn't say anything good. Vivian entered the cabin looking like a blue baked potato. "Listen up, she said, "Yafu doesn't have the keys and I'm not going to have my only mobile bunker ruined by damn fish. Help me outside with the tow cable."

By the time they all exited the juggernaut, one of its front tires was hanging off the rocky coast. Vivian undid a manual release mechanism at the rear of the vehicle and a heavy tow cable came unhitched and fell to the ground. "Ok everybody", Vivian began. "We need to loop this cable around the trees back there. We all have to lift it together. Ready? One, two, three!" All of them (except for Abercrombie) bent down and heaved the ponderous hook off the ground. Behind them, the juggernaut's second pair of tires had caught on the rocky coast, giving them some time to secure the cable.

Jaeleno was altogether unhappy with their current situation. It had put a damper on an otherwise enjoyable fishing trip, and he doubted he would be having any pleasant interactions with Vivian for the next couple of weeks. He also didn't like the amount of noise they were giving off. The broken parking brakes screeched as they grinded against the hauler's wheels, and the crane made an eerie metallic BOING sound as it strained against the weight of the fish. It was loud enough to be unpleasant to them, but was it loud enough for the park attendant to hear further up the trail? They neared the border of the swamp and started wrapping the tow cable around several thick Palmetto trees. As they navigated over the soggy, uneven terrain, Jaeleno noticed something about Vivian. She seemed to favor her left leg slightly as she trudged under the weight of the tow cable. They pulled the cable tight around the Palmettos and Jaeleno secured the safety hook. Once this was done, the tow cable immediately snapped tight and the trees cracked and groaned under the added pressure.

Meanwhile, Abercrombie had climbed on top of the Juggernaut with a heavy, diamond tipped saw. Jaeleno had brought it as a backup in case Vivian was unable to open the destroyer's security doors. None of them had really intended to use it, much less Abercrombie, but circumstances had changed. Abercrombie approached the base of the cargo crane. Its metal ribbing was badly warped and the safety bolts holding the crane to the Juggernaut's roof were threatening to give way. This would rip a massive section of the roof off the Juggernaut and compromise the mission. It would also ruin their best, and last chance to tap into the vast credit reserves Vivian had access to. This called for desperate measures well above Abercrombie's usual pay grade. He slung the circular saw onto his back and started climbing the crane.

Abercrombie had seen many terrifying things in his life. These ranged from the demonous ghuls that frequented the farm's fall hay rides to the more appalling business partners Jaeleno had become fond of lately. However, there was nothing more terrifying than what he saw as he reached the top of the crane. The cable had been pulled all the way out and was drawn tight as it descended into the water. On the other side, lurking in the deepest recess of the estuary was a Gooberfish. Its stalk-like, blood red eyes peered directly at abercrombie. Below those eyes sat a massive, oblong mouth with two rows of spear-like teeth. The cable stopped moving as the fish silently appraised Abercromvie. With ice cold fear in his veins, Abercrombie shimmied out to the edge of the crane's metal rigging, unslung the saw, and began cutting.

The fish did not like this. It's cavernous mouth erupted out of the water and took hold of another ten yards of cable. As the creature fell back into the waves, the juggernaut lurched forward. Two more wheels went over the rocky ledge and into the water before the vessel once again came to a halt. The Palmetto trees attached to the vessel's tow cable uprooted partially, causing the three others to suddenly back away further into the treeline. The cable bucked and spiraled underneath Abercrombie. This caused him to lose his progress on the cable as the saw bounced on the wire. With trembling hands, Abercrombie pulled himself further out over the water until he found his previous cut. He then held himself fast to the wire with his legs and used both his arms to plunge the saw down.

Vivian had given up on anchoring the juggernaut to the trees. She now held her hand cannon and focused down its scope. What she saw surprised her immensely. Hanging out on the cable was the tiny shape of Abercrombie, who was making entire 360 degrees rotations as the cable twirled about like a jump rope. In his hands, was their steel cutting saw, which spewed out sparks as Abercrombie held it to the wire. Vivian had intended to sever the cable with a couple well placed shots, but she highly doubted she would be able to hit the same spot twice (something required to melt through the thick, steel cable). Now, she was doubly concerned about hitting Abercrombe. Still, the juggernaut had to be saved. Vivian liften her blaster, adjusted her sights, breathed in… POINNNG! Vivian put down her blaster. She had not pulled the trigger.

The cable split in two where Abercrombie had been cutting, the recoil of which launched him well over the Juggernaut and into the trees. On the other side, the sluggish leviathan slurped up the rest of the line before slinking off to deeper water. Jaeleno ran to get Abercrombie as Yafu and Vivian used the tow cable to wrench the Juggernaut back onto dry land.

Watching this from the cover of the swamp, beyond the sight of the Sobyaki gang, stood a molted orange figure. In one disgusting, clawed hand, it fiddled with a deactivated Imperial GI spy droid. In its other hand was clutched a heavy durasteel ignition key. Upon seeing the juggernaut set free, the figure swore and threw the keys out into the water. Its emotionless, buggy eyes scanned the juggernaut one last time. "Until we meet again 'Viv'", Kringea Oorlok gurgled.

Unwarranted Paranoia

The sun was descending past the watery horizon, causing the juggernaut to cast a thick shadow over the beach. In between the vehicle's massive tires, Yafu and Vivian were hard at work repairing the damaged brakes. Abercrombie ferried various repair tools to the two from within the vehicle. Meanwhile, Jaeleno was keeping the park attendee occupied by pleasant conversation.

"This may look like a warzone, but you have my word it was nothing but a little old fun", Jaeleno quipped as the attendee approached the beach. "Is anyone hurt?", the youth shouted as he ran closer to the damaged hauler. "We're all fine. A little shook up, but fine." Jaeleno quickly responded." The attendee walked around the juggernaut and got a view of the damage. While he was doing so, Yafu and Vivian walked out from between the wheels (covered in grease) and greeted him. Vivian opened her mouth to speak but was quickly drowned out by Yafu. "My son in law speaks the truth. I underestimated how large that fish was. Nearly pulled us in! HAHA!" Vivian and Jaeleno cringed inwardly as Yafu continued his performance. "So there we were, caught on the line like a Y-wing in a tractor beam. The fish would have had its way with us if it were not for the heroics of our dear little lizard monkey." As Yafu finished this statement, he pointed to the lowering service lift of the Juggernaut, where Abercrombie stood hunched over, carrying a box of tools too big for himself.

The park attendee was not amused. In fact, he had lost every ounce of youthful approachableness that he had possessed when they entered the park. Now, he appeared colder and more distant. "You all seem ok," he began, "but I can't be sure until I get a medical team to look at you." The attendee reached into his pocket and pulled out a cheap hologram transmitter. Immediately, Jaeleno intervened. "There really is no need to involve anyone else. It would simply complicate matters for all parties involved. After all, the beach isn't supposed to be open today. You said that yourself. Let us finish up our repairs and enjoy the fireworks. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for checking on us, but, as you can see, we are fine. Why don't you enjoy yourself next time you have a day off." After saying this, Jaeleno handed the Attendee a stack of 30 credits. This was a very small bribe for those familiar with the drug trade, but for an underpaid park employee, it was quite a lot. After seeing Jaeleno flash the credits, Vivian's eyes went stone cold. "If you would excuse me for a moment, I think I left a hydrospanner turned on", Vivian said before turning around and heading back towards the juggernaut.

The attendee's hand still clutched the transmitter in an iron grip. Disgust was now creeping into his voice. "Sir", he began, "Money or not, I have to report this. Some of you may be injured and just not notice it yet. Shock will do that. Besides, Goober fishing lines are supposed to have an auto release function for fish that exceed their weight limit. Why didn't yours?" Jaeleno quickly answered before Yafu could get in a word. "Our line was taken out of storage recently. It must have been damaged by womp rats or rust. Could have been … Hey! Put down that transmitter!" The attendee had started dialing midway through Jaeleno's completely believable story. Before the youth could click the send button, Yafu slapped it out of his hands. "Oh no", Yafu said, " I am having a seizure." With that, Yafu fell to the ground and started violently spasming. One of his legs 'coincidentally' kicked the transmitter towards the juggernaut, where it rolled to a stop near the vehicle's cargo lift. Both Jaeleno and the attendee started sprinting after it. Unfortunately for Jaeleno, the Attendee was faster.

"My father in law is dying out there and your first instinct is to run after the transmitter?!" Jaeleno shouted as the attendee pulled ahead. "You aren't going to play me for a fool any more!", the kid said. "I knew there was something suspicious about that fishing license! You all are poachers aren't you! Is your 'Pa' even a veteran or did you just hire some homeless dude to play the part!

"Dammit kid", Jaeleno responded (obviously winded), "he is a veteran. Just slow down and let's talk."

"No!" You all are going to kill me, aren't you. Well, I ain't gonna let that happen!

"Come here you paranoid joker!"

Jaeleno put on another burst of speed as they both neared the transmitter. At the same time, Abercrombie descended from the cargo lift, this time carrying a wrench nearly as large as himself. "Abercrombie," Jaeleno shouted. "Whatever you do, do not eat that transmitter!" Abercrombie looked at Jaeleno with a thoroughly confused face, but then he followed the gaze of Jaeleno and understood. He dropped the wrench and dove for the transmitter. The attendee tried snatching up Abercrombie, but the lizard monkey was too quick. He jumped onto one of the Juggernaut's tires and scampered up the side of the vehicle, well out of the attendee's reach.

Jaeleno was about to fork over another 50 credits to the kid, but the rascal took off for the forest road before he could catch up. The kid started hollering, "Help! We've got poachers!" as Jaeleno sped after him. "We aren't poachers, kid!" Jaeleno called from behind, "We just don't Goober fish that often. My only crime is making my own fishing line. You can't blame a man for trying to save a few credits?!" The attendee looked back as he responded, " Ohh yeah, I bet you thought you could save a couple credits with that fake ID as well. They only cost a couple dollars, so you must be trying to stay off record. I ain't falling for your sweet talk, poacher!"

The attendee was pulling well ahead and both Jaeleno's thighs and lungs burnt. He bent over and wheezed, "Just… just hang on a moment you crazy kid!" It was all falling apart. They could have left by now, but Jaeleno's desire to impress Vivian had nearly ruined the mission and, perhaps, the entire Sobyaki farms operation. The attendee had very nearly reached his ticket booth, and there was nothing Jaeleno could do. Even with Vivian's tampering, the booth probably had spare transmitters. The kid stopped at the door, fumbling with his keys. This was when an electric blue circle, roughly the size and width of a smoke ring, came whizzing down the forest road. It followed a straight line past Jaeleno's head and into the attendee's neck. The kid staggered, dropped his keys, and fell over backwards.

Jaeleno turned around and saw Vivian kneeling behind a fallen log. In her hands was a DLT-19X sniper rifle, a piece of equipment far beyond Jaeleno's salary. Vivian slung the rifle over her shoulder and jogged up to the fallen attendee. She held two fingers to the youth's necks and gave a sigh of relief. "He's alive", she said, "This rifle isn't supposed to fire stun rounds. Help me get him into the building." Jaeleno picked up the keys and unlocked the door. From there, the two picked up the unconscious attendee and propped him in a rusty, foldable chair. Jaeleno looked around the interior of the ticket booth. In the middle, there was a small table with a credit safe. In the rear, there was a computer terminal that was powered down, in the upper right hand corner there was… Jaeleno froze. "Vivian, there's a security camera looking right at us!" Vivian walked across the booth and unsheathed a slender, curved jack knife. She then used it to pry open a protective casing just below the lens. "This will take a moment", Vivian said as she pulled out a simple mechanical brain from the camera and began fiddling with the wiring. "Would you please go back to the juggernaut and bring back the brandy? I am going to need it to cover our tracks."

Abercrombie and Yafu were waiting for Jaeleno when he got back to the juggernaut. "So", Yafu began, "Did she kill him?"

"What?", Jaeleno Responded, "No. He's just stunned."

"Good. Did you know she had that rifle?"

"I would have been surprised if she didn't. This hauler is her's after all."

"What company did you say she worked for again?"

"She's an agent for INCOM. As I said before, they wanted to mine on my land so we reached an agreement…"

"I'm going to stop you there. INCOM is a New Republic company through and through. They don't mine under the table, especially not on Chandrila. I figured she was just another one of Mutsa Wusha's minions, but now, I'm beginning to think she's something worse.

"I don't have time for this. Abercrombie, go inside and fetch the Corellian brandy. I stored it behind the cockpit. As for you, Yafu. I take it you have fixed the brakes. Can you hotwire this thing?"

Yafu looked up at the juggernaut. "Yeah I can, but it will take me at least half an hour."

"We might not have that long", Jaeleno said as Abercrombie returned with the brandy. Yafu turned around and boarded the cargo lift. "Jaeleno", he said, "That sniper rifle is imperial built, and I don't think she bought it." Jaeleno started back down the road to the ticket booth. When he was out of earshot of the juggernaut, he muttered, "I know".

"Tell me you have someone getting the Juggernaut started.", Vivian said as Jaeleno walked in through the ticket booth's off kilter door. "Yeah, Yafu is working on it now", Jaeleno responded as he handed her the brandy. "What do you need this for?"

"Are you familiar with a police chief named Ghaghikh Lghghagh"

"Yeah, we've met. Well, I mean I've seen him from a distance."

Vivian started pouring the liquor over the computer controls, onto the camera, and onto the unconscious attendee until the bottle was nearly empty. She then used the rest to wash off the scent of her hand from the bottle itself. Carefully, she placed the empty bottle next to the attendee. "Let's get out of here before he wakes up", she said, picking up her rifle.

They began walking back up the road, but did not have to go far. The familiar rumble of superheavy tires, and the sight of thermal exhaust greeted them as the juggernaut trundled to a halt in front of them. Yafu unrolled his window and stuck out his head so he could be properly heard. "I expect a whole hell of a lot of fluffff eggs after this gig, Jaeleno. I think I've earned them. Without a word, Jaeleno and Vivian boarded the cargo lift and were pulled into the (mostly) airtight vehicle.

The Dive

The sun was setting as the crew readied the juggernaut for the plunge into the water. Abercrombie and Yafu had done a suitable job inspecting the hull for damage, but there was no way to be sure whether they had sealed the vehicle until they went under the waves. If they had more time, Vivian would have released the construction droids and had them take a look at the damage, but that time had been squandered by Jaeleno's idiotic fishing venture.

Vivian silently reprimanded herself for allowing Jaeleno to go through with such an unnecessary risk. However, their detour had not been completely fruitless. Jaeleno was skilled at concealing his motives, but Vivian had lived her entire life lying and had been tutored by the best infiltration instructors available. She was able to see his true intent. He had fallen for her.

This wasn't a revelation to Vivian. In fact, she was surprised it had taken this long for Jaeleno to give into her charm. Every minute she had spent "small talking" with Jaeleno was a hammer swing forging a better ally for her mission. If he loved her, that meant he wasn't going to compromise her plans. It also meant she wouldn't have to kill him. Of course, she would do so if she had to, but she never enjoyed eliminating civilian targets.

"And off we go", Yafu muttered to himself as he gently pressed forwards on the accelerator. The Juggernaut lurched forwards as the engine kicked into gear. They had chosen a relatively flat section of beach further upstream to ease the juggernaut into the water. As they got closer and closer to the water's edge, the sand started to pool and flow around the hauler's wheels, causing them to fishtail off to their left. Yafu quickly engaged traction control and the juggernaut steadied itself. Yafu pressed his wheeled foot to the accelerator and the vehicle lifted up a wake as it plowed into the river.

The water rose all the way to the cockpit, casting a strange dichotomy between the radiance of the setting sun and the murky, green water. Yafu gingerly backed the hauler up to orient it parallel with the two banks of the river, double checked that the traction control was on, and started creeping forwards. As they ventured off closer to the ocean, the water level continued to rise until the entirety of the juggernaut was submerged. Even after Yafu turned on the low power running lights, they could only see about 20 feet in front of them. Floating sediment and other detritus obscured anything further.

"I'm going to make sure we have no major leaks", Vivian said, excusing herself. She exited the cockpit into the main cargo hold. There were no discernible leakages in this section. Good. Vivian then climbed up towards the rear of the vehicle, where she had set up her communication and supply rooms. After entering a 27 digit code, she stepped inside and sealed the doors behind her. She first looked for leaks. Nothing. She then double checked that the signal scrambler was still intact. It was.

Vivian inspected her other sensitive belongings. She had left her most important supplies buried on Sobyaki property, but she still had enough Imperial grade scanners, communication devices, and weaponry in this room to give away her identity. If they were cornered, she would scuttle the juggernaut and find another base of operations. However, Jaeleno's mission to the star destroyer was worth the risk.

It was a matter of weeks before the political elite of Chandrilla would gather for Admiral Syndulla's retirement party. Jaeleno said he could get Vivian in before that deadline, but she had started to doubt it. Since then, she had made several contingency plans to gather information in other ways. One of the more lucrative methods was to break into one of the scrapped star destroyers and obtain its flight recorder. The ship's online computer would have made a detailed analysis of the breaking yards, and the Empire of the Hand could use this to learn what the destroyers were being dismantled for. After all, it wasn't unusual for the Rebellion, now the New Republic, to make new vessels out of the corpses of old imperial ships. She had considered this idea when she first saw the breaking yards, but had thought better on it. The security there had been just as tight as the higher rungs of the capitol building, if not more so. Plus, she had not been ordered to infiltrate the breaking yards, only to spy on politicians. Still, a golden opportunity had presented itself when Jaeleno drew up the plan, so she was going to take it.

Vivian looked out of an armored porthole into the dark abyss. She felt goosebumps pop up along the back of her neck and took a step away from the glass. She hated space, but this, this was worse. In space, she knew there was nothing but a cold void. Here, they weren't alone, and it terrified Vivian. The one and only benefit of taking the underwater approach was stealth. Many of the scanners along the borders of the breaking yards were targeting computers taken off rebel ships. These computers were excellent at detecting threats from far away, but they were meant for space and high altitude combat. Their current approach was neither. The scanners were also designed to pick up the drive signatures of starships. The juggernaut gave off less heat than a standard starfighter, and, especially with Vivian's sensor jammer, made less noise. The odds of them arriving undetected were acceptable to Vivian.

The hauler lurched to the side and Vivian caught the edge of a workbench to steady herself. She waited for several moments, glued to the bench before she allowed herself to move again. She then put on some light armor underneath her shirt and strapped on a belt containing a wide array of lock picks, stun grenades, console slicers, and anything else one might need for a mission of this calibre. She exited the room and rejoined the crew in the cockpit.

Yafu was sweating beads. He had not piloted a military vehicle for years, and his current task was no cake walk. The terrain was treacherous with a wide array of sudden drop offs, razor sharp reefs, and strong currents that were made all the more hazardous by the near darkness. The sun was setting. Yafu was certain of this at least. Their only illumination was provided by the juggernaut's low level running lights. They had more powerful strobe lights on the vehicle, but that would easily give away their position to breaking yard patrols. Therefore, Yafu relied almost entirely on instruments, a task that he was well familiar with. He checked sonar, and muttered a curse at what he saw.

For the most part, the juggernaut had been keeping to the shallows to avoid any more encounters with Gooberfish. However, they were rapidly approaching an abyss. It wasn't a surprise. The coastline was heavily dredged around the breaking yards to enable starships with damaged or missing landing gears to land. It was something that both Abercrombie and Jaeleno had known about, and they had planned accordingly. There were effectively four pits that had been dredged for the breaking yard's four dry docks. Between each of these pits were massive, underwater sand dunes that had been kicked up by the dredging process. The destroyer they were going for was in the second dry dock. It had been landed recently and was not yet fully pulled from the water. Yafu would have to follow the sand dune for several hundred feet to get to its (presumably) submerged hanger. It was a simple enough maneuver, but the thought of traveling along a thin sand dune still gave Yafu a shiver.

Suddenly, the Juggernaut lurched to the side, waking up Jaeleno and prompting Abercrombie to jump into the co-pilot's chair. "What was that?!" Jaeleno asked in a rough, shaken voice. Yafu pulled up an all specs display. "Sure, Why not," Yafu mumbled. "We must have hit a piece of debris from the destroyer. Probably an I-beam or a support column that was buried in the sand." Jaeleno glanced out the window. "How bad is it?" Yafu massaged his non-existent thighs and sighed. "The transmission is still working and the hull integrity seems fine, but the impact knocked the traction control computer off line. "Can you fix it", Jaeleno asked. There was a long pause where the only thing that could be heard was the faint "Ping'' of the juggernaut's makeshift sonar. "Yeah." Yafu said, getting out of his chair. "Jaeleno, you stay here. If the parking brake fails, you call me back up here. Abercrombie, come with me. I'll need someone with nimble hands.

Abercrombie was not ready for this kind of work. He knew how to follow the rules of the road, and how to pilot most speeders or trucks, but he had never been great at keeping them running. All of this played through his head as he sat wedged three feet below the cargo bay floor. Yafu was above him, giving directions and holding a flashlight. "Right, you'll want to reset the tertiary transformer with a hydrospanner", Yafu shouted down to Abercrombie. "It's right next to your foot." Abercrombie picked up what looked like an oversized dentist drill and carefully extended its point into a bundle of wires. He double checked that he still had a fire extinguisher behind him and touched the device to what he presumed to be the transformer. Immediately, thin arcs of purple electricity flew from the transformer and started the cables on fire. Abercrombie leapt back, and frantically waved the fire extinguisher until the maintenance hole was entirely clouded up.

At the same time, Vivian stepped out of her personal compartments and triple checked it was locked. She started walking for the bridge before noticing Yafu knelt over a smoking service hatch. "What did we break this time?", she said, descending a ladder into the cargo hold. Yafu lifted Abercrombie out of the pit (who scampered away) as he answered. "We hit something and knocked our traction control offline. I want it back up before we cross the path over the abyss." Vivian peered through the thinning extinguisher smoke and saw the charred transformer. "This Juggernaut is an older model, it's not built to accept hydrospanner use", she said as she squeezed into the hole. Yafu shined the flashlight over her shoulder as she unplugged and cleaned the wiring by hand.

Yafu cleared his throat before speaking. "I saw your New Republic tattoo. Did you serve or are you just patriotic?" Vivian continued working as she answered. "Both, I guess. I was a Rebel informant back on Ryloth during the start of the war. I moved to Chandrilla and began working for INCOM a couple months before the Empire rounding up my people."

"I'm sorry", Yafu said. He was earnest in spite of his suspicion. "We won the war didn't we?", Vivian responded. "Palpatine died and Ryloth can heal". Her eyes grew cloudy as she completed her repair work. "Still", Yafu continued. "It's a shame Thrawn's vultures took the planet. The Rebellion would have granted Ryloth the freedom it deserved if it could have gotten there in time." Vivian reattached the electrical cables and exited the maintenance tunnel. "But it didn't", she said icily as she turned back to the cabin.

"What part of the destroyer do you think this is?" Jaeleno asked Abercrombie as they both looked out the cockpit. "Seems like the reactor fell out." Abercrombie leaned forwards. "No, it looks more like a reef than something that would come from a ship." The object they were appraising was large, chitinous, and roughly oblong. The running lights illuminated its outline, but it was too far out in the abyss to be properly made out. Jaeleno and Abercrombie had been spending the last five minutes trying to determine what it was while Yafu and Vivian finished the repairs. "Hey Abercrombie", Jaeleno said. "Does it look like that thing is moving to you?"

"It might just be drifting… wait…" Abercrombie saw two red, bioluminescent lights on the object, and they were slowly getting brighter as the object drifted closer. Abercrombie had seen these lights before. They had been staring at him while he was cutting the Juggernaut's fishing cable. "Jaeleno, Get Yafu up here. We have to move." Jaeleno opened his mouth for a second as if he was going to protest, but he closed it as the figure's outline became more apparent. He then rocketed from his seat and ran to the cargo hold. At the same time, Abercrombie quietly disengaged the parking brake and kept the juggernaut on idle. The figure had now fully ascended out of the abyss and was studying the Juggernaut motionlessly.

Yafu and Vivian sprinted into the cockpit soon after. Yafu's legs made an ear splitting screech as he dove into the driver's seat. He then double checked the sonar and looked out the window. Without taking his eyes off the Gooberfish, he overclocked the engine and set the Juggernaut's shields to full front. The water in front of the cockpit started shimmering as the juggernaut's shields stacked on each other. "Do you have weapons on this thing, Vivian?", he asked in a calm voice. Vivian stared out the window and terror wracked her soul. "No", she said in a shaky voice. It was the first time she had displayed emotional weakness to the crew, which prompted Jaeleno and Abercrombie to exchange nervous glances. "Ok", Yafu responded. "I want you and Jaeleno to activate the droids and get them ready to repair damage. Abercrombie, grab a fire extinguisher and stay in the cabin. I can't operate this vehicle if the controls start burning. "What is your plan?", Vivian asked Yafu. "That fish is going to lunge any moment now. I want us to have some momentum when it does, now get to those droids!"

Jaeleno and Vivian rushed downstairs while Abercrombie grabbed the fire extinguisher and strapped in next to Yafu. "We just have to make it to the destroyer before it does", Yafu said to himself. He then slammed the accelerator and the Juggernaut sped forwards.

Sand flew up all around them as they thundered closer and closer to the abyss. Yafu checked the sonar one more time, then locked his eyes straight ahead. "I don't see the dune!" Abercrombie chirped as they neared the edge. "It's there", Yafu responded. The Goober fish moved. "Ahhhhh (not the translator)! It's coming right for us!" Abercrombie squealed. The outline of the gooberfish rapidly got larger and its sickly, pink jaws detached and shot forwards just as the juggernaut cleared the edge. The creature made contact on the top right corner of the cockpit and Abercrombie got a front seat view of a spear sized tooth bear straight at the front window only to be knocked out of the creature's jaw by the shield. Immediately, the right side of the control panel showered sparks and started on fire. "We just lost our shields… for good," Yafu said emotionlessly. The echoes of straining metal could be heard throughout the entire hauler. Immediately, Abercrombie was suffocating the fire with a generous application of the extinguisher while Yafu remained glued to the path impact had caused the juggernaut to fishtail badly off to the right, and they plunged off the side into the darkness below.

"PHOOM"! The front of the juggernaut landed nearly perpendicular to the dune some ten feet below the drop off. However, more than half of the vehicle was dangling over the edge and the hauler was rapidly losing its purchase on the sand. As the juggernaut slid into the abyss, Abercrombie saw night sky shing far above. In those couple seconds, Abercrombie could see the back of the star destroyer along with an entire barrage of fireworks over what must have been the capitol. Abercrombie made a silent promise then and there that he would find a way for the farm to go clean, he would never take a life, and he would never complain about entertaining children during the fall hay rides ever again… if he survived.

Yafu feathered the accelerator several times and the juggernaut climbed over the edge like a great caterpillar. He then slammed on the gas harder than he had ever done in all his years as a pilot. The juggernaut struggled to get purchase on the loose sand, and the dune around them started to sink and deform as they moved forwards. Even so, the juggernaut did gain ground and it was soon plowing towards the destroyer, casting a wake of shifting sand like a speedboat on the surface. At the edge of the abyss, the Gooberfish lay motionless on the ground. Never in its long life had it encountered prey with such a punch. Hundreds of its spear-like teeth littered the ground and its jaw now sat at an irregular, oblique angle. The fish used its massive, bony fins to push itself off the bottom and slowly swam off, leaving a trail of thick black blood from its gills and mouth as it vanished into the charcoal water.

"Is it still after us?" Abercrombie asked. His eyes were wide and he was hanging on the starboard porthole of the juggernaut trying to look behind them. "Don't know", Yafu responded. "We hit it with enough force to deflect an asteroid. If it's still after us, there's nothing we can do. Why don't you check on Jaeleno and Vivian. I don't know how much damage the rest of this hauler took, but they probably need help.

Yafu's hypothesis held true. As Abercrombie opened the cockpit door and stepped into the cargo hold, he was met with a faceful of water. A long, thin gash had been made on the ceiling, and water was surging down at an alarming rate. Already, and inch or two had accumulated on the cargo hold's floor and was sloshing about with the juggernaut's movement. Vivian was securing a door with a welder and Jaeleno was patching the gash in the roof with a rivet gun. Both of them were wearing respirators and were covered in grease. Meanwhile, Four B-1 construction droids had been activated and were attempting to fix a major breach in the floor. The maintenance hatch Abercrombie had worked in earlier had been flooded, and a pungent steam emerged as the water rushed in and interacted with the engine below.

Vivian finished bracing the door and turned to the cockpit. "We have to stop the engine soon or we're going to run out of oxygen." She then ran to another door that was starting to bulge. "Abercrombie!", shouted Jaeleno. "I need you to toss me another pack of rivets. I've run dry. There should be an extra pack in a box by the cockpit door." Abercrombie turned around and rummaged through a small, plastic container. There were batteries, rust remover, empty cans of sealant, and … rivets! Abercrombie picked up the heavy pack and began to descend the stairs to the cargo hold. "No!", Jaeleno shouted. Don't get near that reactor breach! Just toss em!" Abercrombie wound his arm back and whipped the rivets through the air with all his might. The pack followed an arc through the falling water and crashed at the base of the ladder. Upon impact, the package came undone and rivets scattered out across the flooded floor. The desperation of their predicament was mirrored well by the despair that then crept onto Jaeleno's face.

"None of this was supposed to happen'', Jaeleno thought this to himself as he stood paralyzed on the ladder, watching the rivets disappear into the churning water below. He had thought that he was being clever when he drew up this plan. He had thought they would be in and out in a couple hours. Instead, he was standing on a ladder in a flooding room only 8 meters away from a leaking reactor. He had just as much control over this mission as his empty rivet gun had over the massive gash in the ceiling. Jaeleno looked up at the metal patch he had bolted down. Water still dribbled out the sides of the patch and cascaded through the unpatched sections of the roof. Suddenly, the juggernaut bucked up and knocked him off the ladder. A floor above, Vivian and Abercrombie had to grab onto guardrails to prevent them from being knocked into the water below. Jaeleno had landed against the rear wall of the cargo hold and now sat with his legs completely submerged. Jaeleno looked ahead at the column of toxic smoke rising from the maintenance hole. "What am I supposed to do?", he said to himself.

He then felt something sharp against his right leg and lifted it out of the water. It was one of the rivets that had spilled out of the packet. This snapped Jaeleno back to reality. He fed the rivet into the gun and combed the water for more. He could only find three, but it was a start. Jaeleno then righted the ladder, grabbed another metal patch, and ascended against the torrent above. He pressed the patch firmly to the ceiling and was about to turn the safety off the rivet gun when the water miraculously stopped gushing in. The humm of the juggernaut's reactor also died down, as did the column of toxic steam emerging from the hole. The only thing that could be heard was the dripping of water and the sloshing of the construction droids as they continued their work. Yafu then limped out of the cockpit and looked over the room. "This was a stupid plan, Jaeleno", he said. "But we made it. Welcome to the breaking yards."

Plundering a Destroyer

The crew ascended to the dorsal hatch of the juggernaut and carefully opened it. The back of the hauler only rose a couple feet out of the silent water around them, and what they saw was no more reassuring than the juggernaut's interior. The fishing crane had been completely sheared off and the vehicle appeared like it had almost been torn in two lengthwise. The outer layer of protective durasteel had been peeled away, revealing charred subsystems and support beams. Wedged into various sections of the hull were five spear-like teeth easily taller than any of them. "We got lucky", Yafu muttered. "Very lucky".

They had emerged into the main hangar of a star destroyer. The walls were covered in rust and peeling paint, the air stunk like old industrial oil, and they had very minimal light. To the right of the juggernaut, a barge carrying various disassembled tie fighters was fastened to the hangar wall. It's running lights had been left on and were the only source of light besides the juggernaut. Vivian studied the barge with concern then turned to Yafu. "Are you sure this ship is empty?" Yafu nodded. "Yeah, Alderaan day is a mandated holiday. The only things here with us are the breaking yard security droids, and their patrol routes don't enter the destroyers. They're deemed too valuable to lose in these unstable structures. That running light was probably left on by mistake."

"I don't think we should take any chances'', Jaeleno said, pulling out several pairs of nitrile gloves. "I brought these just in case the breaking yards report missing materials. We don't need Ghagh Lghghagh picking up wind of us, especially you Yafu. ,"

"I'm not going with you on this one," Yafu said. "This destroyer really isn't all that stable and I'd just slow you down with my legs. I'll stay in the hangar and try to get the juggernaut ready for our trip back." Jaeleno nodded and asked, "How many of the construction droids will you need?"

"Hard to say. The four you activated seem to be holding the vehicle together, but I could use three more to help me gather supplies for the repairs."

"Done. We'll activate the remaining five to help carry the stasis chamber back over here. Vivian? Would you mind unfastening the barge over there and pulling it up next to us? I think you are the only one who can make the jump over there."

Vivian nodded and walked over to the hangar wall closest to the juggernaut. She clung to an I beam supporting the ceiling and climbed up to a rusting observation deck a couple stories above them. She then walked to the other side of the hangar and slid down another I beam onto the barge. While she was doing this, Jaeleno had activated the five spare construction droids and herded them onto the back of the juggernaut. Vivian tossed the rope she had unfastened from the barge's mooring and Jaeleno snagged it out of the motionless water. The construction droids then began lethargically pulling the barge in. After a couple minutes of heaving, the barge had settled next to the juggernaut and formed a bridge to the main flight deck. Abercrombie fastened the rope to one of the teeth protruding from the back of the hauler, and they made their way into the destroyer.

"Watch your step and follow me", Vivian said. "We don't know how badly this ship was torn up before they sent it here." The interior hanger was unsettlingly empty. Charging stalls that once held ATATs and ATSTs were empty and the tie fighter racks above were dormant and rusting. Vivian looked over the side of a service lift (not unlike the one she had commandeered a shuttle from the year prior) and saw that the lift had been removed and the elevator well had flooded. Vivian walked past an empty armory and through a doorless passageway that led to one of the maintenance hallways. The monotonous marching of the construction droids and the erratic scampering of abercrombie echoed hauntingly down the pitch black corridor. Vivian, Jaeleno, and Abercrombie lit up their flashlights while the droids continued behind them.

The further they traveled into the destroyer, the more flashbacks came to Vivian. The pitch blackness of these service tunnels brought back images of cowering Twi'leks in the dark of Admiral Perth's ship and of all the other trials she had gone through in her previous mission. It was comforting in a way. She was back in a military-esque scenario. Jaeleno and Abercrombie may have known more about civilian customs and the drug trade than she did, but here, she held the reins.

They neared the end of the corridor and their flashlights illuminated a rectangular, twisting staircase ascending to the upper levels. "If we follow that staircase five stories up, we will enter the crew quarters", Vivian announced to the group. "From there, we will cross over to the medical deck, and I'll try to unlock a few doors the scrappers might not have broken into. We still have the saw, right?" One of the droids held up the circular saw and declared, "Roger Roger!" The sound boomed down the vast corridors and caused Vivian, Jaeleno, and Abercrombie to freeze and look around. A moment passed. Nothing. Jaeleno walked over next to Vivian. "If there was anything here, we would hear it coming. I don't hear anything." Vivan silently agreed and they continued onwards.

The stairs sat at the head of a T-intersection in the ship, and the hallways to their left and right were just as dark as the one they had emerged from. Vivian checked the intersection with her flashlight and saw nothing but peeled bulkheads and exposed wiring. Still, something was not right. Every time Vivian turned her flashlight away, tiny, barely visible orbs of light appeared in the darkness. When Vivian shone her light back, they were gone. "Are fireflies common on this planet?" Vivian asked Jaeleno. "Yeah, but I don't see why they would be in here." They both loosened their holsters.

The climb up the stairs went alright. Only a couple steps were missing and the guardrails were still intact. A problem did present itself when they entered the crew quarters. A massive hole had been melted through the starboard wall, revealing two other decaying destroyers, the slums of "Mothmatown", and the brilliant lights of the capitol. The fireworks were still going off. Vivian deactivated her flashlight and turned to Jaeleno. "There's not much cover with that hole in the wall. We should turn off our flashlights just in case anyone is casting an eye this way. Reluctantly, both Jaeleno and Abercrombie obliged. As they passed the hole, they were made aware of its grizzly origin. The durasteel around the hole curved inwards and appeared to pool on the floor. Bed frames and stormtrooper armor had melted along with it and gave the appearance of melted wax. Vivian wagered it was a proton torpedo strike, and kept it to herself that everyone on this deck would have been killed by depressurization. They silently moved onwards.

They walked endlessly through the rows of empty bunks and came to their first locked door. Vivian furrowed her brow as she studied the lock. "Weird", she said, "The scrappers should have broken in here by now." She then pulled out her lock picking supplies and set to work on the door. As she was working, Abercrombie activated his translator. "I wouldn't be surprised. There are demilitarization ordinances going out all across the New Republic. The first thing they take are the shields and turbolasers so they can fall out of supply. That's what most of these yards are meant for. This entire medical deck is probably worth less than one cannon under current legislation."

"You don't say", Vivian chimed (obviously surprised) and unlatched the door.

The door didn't have power to operate on, so Jaeleno had two of the construction droids pry it open. The grinding noise created by the door prompted all of them to do a quick 360 degrees check of the room. They were still alone. Once the door opened, Vivian shone her light into the new compartment. It definitely was a medical deck, and, sure enough, it had not been touched. Rows of prosthetic arms, spoiled tanks of bacta solution, and deactivated medical droids stood motionless in the shadows. Vivian didn't like it. The claustrophobic clutter of this deck made it hard to see where they were going, and several times she had almost knocked into surgical trays containing rusting scalpels. Other times, she barely avoided stepping on piles of shattered glass. This wasn't right. She should have been more focused, but something about this deck had an effect on her. She looked at an automated surgical bed and felt herself start to lose balance. The scalpels, syringes, and deactivated automatrons in this room made something in the back of her mind flare up. She hadn't felt this sick since she overdosed on Bliss weed back on Ryloth. She leaned against a chipped wall and tried not to throw up.

"Abercrombie! Bring the droids up here!" Jaeleno called from the end of the medical deck. He had walked ahead of the group and had found a promising room shooting off from the main operation floor. A set of armored sliding doors had been knocked partially open by a section of ceiling that had fallen down. Jaeleno shone his flashlight into the exposed floor above him, but the only thing the light revealed was a slow trickle of water falling from somewhere further above. Jaeleno then turned his flashlight back to the room. Next to the damaged door, a plaque read, "Cold Storage". Jaeleno excitedly shone his flashlight through the opening and was immensely pleased with what he saw. In the center of the room, just out of reach, was an imperial stasis chamber.

Abercrombie and the droids came up behind Jaeleno and Abercrombie let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness", he said, "I was worried we would have to go deeper into this derelict vessel. Is the door jammed?" Jaeleno walked past the fallen section of roof and examined the damaged door. He gently tugged on its handle and let go. "Yeah. The door must have been forced in place by this structural collapse. See if the droids can pry it open." Two of the B-1 units grasped the door from the bottom and began tugging. Very, very slowly, the two metal sheets started to part, and Jaeleno was overcome with joy. His plan had worked! He, a civilian, had snuck into one of the most secure sites in the capitol region. Once he had the stasis chamber installed in his lab, he would be able to rebuild the farm seven, no, nine times over. That was when Jaeleno started to hear a crackling. It began as a faint sound, no different than ripping apart velcro, but it grew in strength until it mirrored the sound of snapping twigs. Jaeleno had deduced the source too late and only had time to grab abercrombie before the fallen section of roof ripped through the floor.

The droids had been getting the door open, but the more they pulled, the less support the fallen section of ceiling had. Jaeleno realized too late that the section of floor near the doors was little more than a pile of rust, and the moment the fallen roof lost its support, it detached and ripped straight through. Jaeleno tiptoed to the edge of the new hole and his previous jubilation turned to dread. Below him, the section of roof was still falling, along with the two droids that had been working on the door. Worse yet, nothing was below them for hundreds upon hundreds of feet. A section had been cut out of the destroyer like a bite out of an apple, exposing the ship's massive reactor and hundreds of thick power conduits. At least 20 scrapping / construction walkers were perched within this cut, looking like tall, skeletal scavengers that had been gorging themselves on the ship's carcass. They were all deactivated, and Jaeleno didn't see anyone walking between the dry docks, but, in the end, this really didn't matter.

The droids hit the reactor plating with enough force to shatter them, but the section of roof stayed in one piece. The impact with the reactor plating had sent it bouncing down towards the side of the dry dock. Jaeleno held his breath. The debris bounced over one walker, narrowly avoided a second, and then plowed straight into the side of a third. Whatever the walker had been obtaining from the power conduits must have been flammable because the walker tipped over, fell another 50 feet into a bed of tubing, and ceremoniously exploded. Speeder sirens all across Mothmatown started blaring, house lights were turned on en masse, and the fireworks over the capitol stopped. In the distance, Jaeleno could hear an air raid siren start to go off. "Well", he said, "That's not good".

The line in the sand

Yafu was having a miserable time. He was covered in grease, his arms ached, and his right joint actuator was spasming due to the wet interior of the juggernaut. Yafu had started his repair job by taking TIE fighter wings and welding them over the damaged sections of the hull. Although they were fragile in combat, the durasteel wings of the TIEs would be sufficient to resist the water pressure of their next dive. In lieu of a pump, he had five of the construction droids form a bucket brigade to unflood the Juggernaut. He had sent the other two construction droids out into the hangar to gather spare electrical supplies, but they had not yet returned. When Yafu checked on the juggernaut's reactor, he was hit with a scalding blast of air. This was a strong indication that the water had shorted out the reactor's cooling system. If he didn't get that repaired, he doubted the juggernaut would make it back to dry land, much less the farm.

There were other problems. Sparks were periodically showering from the damaged ceiling, and Yafu had been unable to determine which subsystem it had been coming from. He was aware that Vivian had installed scuttling charges in the juggernaut, but he was not sure where they were placed throughout the ship. If a spark made contact with one of these charges, the juggernaut would be lost. That was the problem Yafu was currently trying to correct. He was going from room to room, listening for the telltale hum of a detonite charge. Thus far, he had found three charges safely insulated in the forward end of the hauler, but suspected there were far more.

There was also the matter of sealed doors. Vivian had claimed that she had to seal several flooded compartments, but Yafu didn't buy it. He knew what pressure damage looked like (both positive and negative) and the doors didn't show it. He took a heavy wrench from the cockpit tool case, pressed his ear to a sealed door and smacked it several times. The echo from inside didn't indicate that the room was flooded, so why did Vivian seal it? Yafu already suspected the answer, and it was the greatest shock he had ever received since he had taken up civilian life. Vivian was likely an imperial operative. At least that much he knew. He didn't know which imperial warlord she worked for or what her exact purpose was, but he wasn't going to let her fulfill it.

Yafu had recognized that Vivian was well trained when she first intervened at the park. He had suspected she was one of Mutsa Wusha's enforcers, and he was still willing to shrug it off as another one of Jaeleno's risky business ventures. However, he didn't just recognize Vivian's DLT-19X sniper rifle, he recognized her stance, the way she braced the stock, and the way she had attached her sights. Only imperial death troopers and ISB agents were so precise.

This led to another question. Did Jaeleno know? Yafu knew that Jaeleno often followed his wallet instead of his better judgment, so it was possible Vivian bought his loyalty. Still, he hoped this wasn't true. Jaeleno had been one of the few people to routinely visit Yafu after the war ended. Over the hundreds of routine deliveries Jaeleno had made to Yafu's house, they had become (at least Yafu hoped) friends. Yafu also knew that neither Abercrombie, nor Jaeleno wanted to stay in the drug business. If they were in the know about Vivian's identity, then perhaps it was their final cash grab on the way out of the underworld. Still, there were lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Yafu knew he wasn't an upstanding citizen of the New Republic, none of his acquaintances were. He had fallen far since he first started taking Bliss, but he hadn't fallen so far as to help an imperial. He wasn't about to disgrace his brothers and sisters in arms who had died fighting the imps, not while there was still life in his mangled body.

Yafu twisted off the cap of one of Vivian's scuttling charges and started separating the components of the explosive into three less powerful charges. He carefully rolled the detonite putty between his fingers to form slender, black strips. Then, he removed a wire from the juggernaut's control panel and frayed it at the end to feed each of the three charges. He walked over to the sealed door and pasted the strips along where he suspected the hinges to be. He retreated back to the cockpit and applied a current to the wire.

The juggernaut gently rocked in the water, casting a tiny wave in the silent hangar pool. Inside, Yafu looked out from the cockpit to see the guardrail opposite the sealed room blown outwards. The doors themselves had imploded inwards, giving Yafu just enough space to squeeze through. Before he did this, he unplugged his catheter bag and tossed it into the room. There were no alarms, no automated security droids, nothing. Yafu then leaned his torso through the door, detached his legs one at a time, and reattached them inside. He turned on a lantern on his hip and reattached the catheter that had been lying on the floor.

The inside was little more than a storage room. A weapons locker was bolted to the floor on the right hand side, and a small computer terminal sat on the left. Yafu reached through the hole in the door and grabbed the rivet gun. He then used it to punch through the lock on the right. He opened the locker and sifted through its contents. There were DL-15 machine guns, more DLT-19X rifles, and magazine upon magazine of ammo. Yafu wasn't satisfied. Though rare, these weapons could be found in black markets across the New Republic. He needed something more telling. There was a secondary lockbox in the bottom of the locker. Yafu used the rivet gun to break the lock and then opened the dented lid. Inside was something that he had not seen before. It was a squat, heavy blaster with a thick stock and heat shield. It had what appeared to be an underbarrel grenade launcher and some sort of thermal sensitive scope. It looked new, expensive, and imperial.

Yafu took the blaster and rolled over to the computer terminal. He had never been much of a slicer, but he knew his way around the basic mechanics of a computer system. The main terminal was likely user sensitive, so Yafu avoided it altogether. He didn't need it self destructing on him. Instead, Yafu went straight to a hologram projector to the left of the computer. He thoroughly checked the system over. It was a civilian model and did not appear to have any modifications. He then took a screwdriver from his tool belt and gently loosened the bearings holding the crystalline projector in place. The projector then popped loose and Yafu gingerly grasped it by the edges. He didn't need to hack the computer. Everything he needed was in his hand. "Sorry Jaeleno", Yafu said, "I'm not playing along with this anymore". Yafu then popped open the dorsal hatch of the Juggernaut and disappeared into the depths of the destroyer.

Tralalog Smith Lee Jenkins

Vivian still leaned against the wall with her head in her hands. She had never been incapacitated like this before. Was it the contaminants leaking from the ship? Did she injure herself in the Juggernaut? Vivian made a mental note to run a thorough self diagnostic once she returned to the farm. That was when she heard the explosion. It reverberated through the ship and caused the medical vials around her to fall and shatter. Further up ahead, she could hear Abercrombie swearing.

"Forget the bloody stasis chamber!" said Abercrombie. "We don't even know if that room is stable, not to mention the police will be here soon!" Jaeleno had tiptoed around the massive hole in the floor and was pressed against the door, cutting the remaining obstructions away with the circular saw. Jaeleno answered without taking his eyes off his work. "That stasis chamber is the best chance the farm has to become successful. I'm not going to let a little rust come between us and success."

"Forget success", Abercrombie responded, "I want you to get out of this alive. I want us to get out of this without entering a jail cell!"

"My mind is set, Abercrombie. Hand me a screwdriver and have the remaining three droids ready to receive the chamber." Jaeleno removed the saw from the door and gave it a light push. The two slabs of steel fell backwards and landed in front of the stasis chamber, still glowing hot from the saw. Jaeleno then reached his hand out for the screwdriver. Abercrombie muttered another curse and handed Jaeleno what he wanted.

The interior of the cold storage room was claustrophobic and muggy. Hundreds of vials were stacked along the walls. Whatever they once held had become so rotten and putrid that it was impossible to guess what they once were. Jaeleno held his sleeve over his mouth and nose as he unscrewed the chamber from the floor. If he got the stasis chamber back to the farm, he would sanitize it thoroughly. "Abercrombie, send those droids in here one at a time", he shouted against the rushing of the wind coming from the newly formed hole in the floor. One by one, the three remaining droids shimmied into the room. All four of them (including Jaeleno) took corners and began removing the chamber from the room.

"You won't fit on the ledge like this", Jaeleno told the droids as they neared the end of the room. "Try to get under the chamber." With surprising eloquence, the construction droids squatted down and rotated their arms 90* to hold the chamber above their heads. "We've got this sir, you need not endanger yourself", said the droid closest to Jaeleno. He accepted and stepped back to the safety of solid ground. Now that the droids had analyzed the condition of the floor, they traversed it with ease. They all stepped in unison and locked their joints each time a gust of wind threatened to topple over the stasis chamber. They continued walking until they were 20 feet away from the hole, then reoriented themselves to carry the chamber at waist height.

This was the point where Vivian caught up with them. "Do either of you know what that tremor was?", she said as she caught her breath. "Yeah, we're in some trouble", responded Jaeleno, "Some of the floor gave way up ahead. The explosion you heard was debris totalling a construction walker below us."

"Pretty much all of Chandrilla knows we're here", added Abercrombie.

"Right", Vivian sighed. "You two follow the droids back to the juggernaut, I have to get something out of this ship first. Help Yafu finish the repairs when you get to the hangar. Cut corners if you have to."

"Wait! We don't have time to split up!"Abercrombie shouted as Vivian ran past the crew quarters and out of sight.

The path back down was substantially more difficult than the path up. The ship groaned as the droids carried their heavy cargo down the staircase. Jaeleno and Abercrombie could hear the distant sound of police sirens and smelt burning oil. They knew they had overstayed their welcome. The lead droid extended its leg onto the second to last step of the staircase and suddenly fell forwards (letting loose a short exclamation in binary). Jaeleno rushed to take the droid's place but was too late. The heavy capsule hit the floor hard and skidded to a halt in the center of the pitch black hallway. Behind the capsule's base trailed a trip wire which the droid had fallen upon. There was scampering emanating from the darkness.

Jaeleno swiftly pulled his scattergun to his shoulder and crouched behind the stasis chamber. The droids did the same but had no weapons to work with. "Abercrombie, I can't see anything from this angle. Grab the flashlight and tell us what's out there", Jaeleno whispered. Abercrombie grabbed the flashlight and peaked out from behind the chamber's frame. "I see the orbs again. They're getting closer!"

"Dissipate and let us pass!", shouted Jaeleno (his voice echoing off the hallways). "We are heavily armed and well trained." Neither of these claims were true. The group's only weapon was Jaeleno's old scattergun, and when Jaeleno had asked the droids (in a whispered tone) if they could fight, they had all shook their heads in unison. However, Jaeleno's statement had worked. Abercrombie reported that the orbs were no longer advancing.

"We believe you" came a voice from down the hallway to their right. It was wearied and high pitched but came off in a measured tone that reminded Jaeleno of himself when he was proposing business ventures. "Then you know to leave!" Jaeleno responded, "And no harm shall come to you". There was a malstrom of high pitched laughter echoing from the darkness. "Sir", said the voice, "What makes you think you hold the cards in this situation? Now, I give you permission to relieve yourself of your weaponry and to deactivate your droids before we are forced to resort to less civilized means of persuasion." That was when Jaeleno saw it.

The being that now approached them had started off as another cluster of orbs in the darkness, but gained a form as it entered the range of Abercrombie's flashlight. The steel floor reverberated with each of its thunderous steps, and sparks emitted each time its heavy feet scratched against the steel floor. Those feet reflected Jaeleno's flashlight and illuminated the being's thick, metal legs. These legs were covered in an exterior plating resembling the armor on an ATAT, below this exterior layer, were rows and rows of pulsating hydraulic lines which mirrored the appearance of bulging quadriceps. The waist was little more than an excavator's slew ring with holes drilled in to accept the legs. Chain mail discolored with grease was draped around the waist and onto its thighs. It's main body was hulking and took up most of the hallway. It had the appearance of an engine block from an antiquated ocean liner. The arms were just as thick as the legs and similarly armored. They ended in three drill tipped claws that may have once been grasping attachments for a junkyard crane. The figure fully stepped into the light and Jaeleno saw the creature's head in the center of it's chest. Attached to an assortment of cables, conduits and wires, was a rectangular Gonk droid. It beheld the two organisms and three droids before it and merrily said, "GonK!" Riding on top of this terrifying beast was a short humanoid with two glowing yellow eyes and a long red cloak. It's furry hands grasped an old revolver that was pointed straight at Jaeleno's head. "My name is Tralalaog Smith Lee Jenkins, and this is Yorg. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Tralalog appeared to be an old Jawa, and although the specifics of his face were obscured behind his hood, long, white whiskers protruded from his nose and above his eyebrows. Normally, a jawa would not have intimidated Jaeleno, but Yorg, the steel thing that stood before them, did. "Well, I can see when I'm outmatched", Jaeleno said as he stared up at Tralalog. He dropped his scattergun on the floor and kicked it to the wall. He then instructed Abercrombie to shut down the droids. "To tell you the honest truth, sir", Jaeleno continued, my crew and I did not mean to disturb your territory. We were searching for this stasis chamber (gesturing behind him) and nothing else." Tralalog scratched his furry chin. "I am not yet certain if you are attempting to deceive me. What do you think, Yorg?"

"Gong, Gonk, Gong, Gong, Gonk, Gong, Gong, Gonk."

"Hmm. Very well, I will humor this idea until further evidence surfaces."

"Great", said Jaeleno, "In that case, we will go on our merry way and leave you and your clan in peace."

"Unfortunately, that's not on the table", Tralalog responded. "You see, we know that the commotion you caused upstairs has attracted the attention of the police, and, if I am to be honest myself, my family and I are scrapping this destroyer for every ounce of value it had before the breaking yards got to it. To some, this might be seen as illegal. You are going to help me and my family out of this situation." Jaeleno was starting to sweat. "I'm not sure how I'd be able to do that. If you want I can offer a substantial kickback to you and your kin for the inconvenience I've caused."

"Keep your money, and consider yourself in our care for a while." With a slight hand signal from Tralalog, hundreds of blaster safeties were turned off and Jaeleno and Abercrombie were ushered further into the ship.

Vivian rested her hands on her knees and caught her breath. She had just ascended 14 stories to get to the bridge and had thoroughly exhausted herself. If their position had not been compromised, she would have taken more time to recover. Unfortunately, she didn't have that time. As Vivian suspected, the bridge had been thoroughly cleaned through. This would have been a priority for New Republic scroungers who were always searching for imperial data. There was no point in looking for the flight recorder in the main control room, that would have been taken. Instead, Vivian entered the captain's quarters.

The room had also been cleaned out, but more hastily. The captain's desk still remained, along with a coat rack and a broken hologram table. Vivian then got out a data pad and fine tuned it to search for electrical impulses. The destroyer hadn't run on its own power for years, yet the device still picked up the faint electronic heartbeat of Vivian's objective. The signature originated somewhere nearby, and it grew steadily more powerful as Vivian neared the coat rack. She picked up the wooden hangar and examined it. There were no holes, no buttons, nothing to interact with. However, the electronic signature was still radiating from this location.

Vivian held her blaster to the tip of the coat rack and fired. The wood shattered and started to burn furiously, but Vivian smothered the end of the rack against the floor and examined the section she had exposed. A tiny, metal tube had been inserted into the middle of the coat rack, like a pill in a crumb of bread. Vivian inserted her lock pick and poked around until she felt the end of a rectangular object roughly the size of a pencil. She then pressed against the object's side and pulled it out of its hiding spot. The rectangle appeared to be made of vescar and was covered in miniscule engravings and power lights. The pattern seemed to be some form of binary language, but Vivian could not read it. She gingerly placed the object in her front pocket and buttoned it shut. The cylinder matched the descriptions she had received of tertiary flight recorders, but she would need to send the data back to Maximilian for it to be properly analyzed.

"I always thought the electrical readings in this room were off", said a voice behind Vivian. It had not been said in galactic basic, rather it contained the rapid squeaks of Jawa. Vivian turned around and drew her blaster so fast that the Jawa behind her phumbled his weapon. They both watched the cheap blaster slide across the floor to the wall and turned to face each other again. "Do you understand basic?" Vivian said coldly. The Jawa nodded furiously. Vivian was able to tell that the Jawa was young, probably no older than seven. This made Vivian dread what she would have to do, but Jawas never traveled alone. "Listen, '' she said, "You are going to be an assurance that my crew and I can get off this ship alive." Vivian walked up to the terrified rodent and scooped him up with one of her arms. She quickly patted him over and confirmed that he had no weapons, only various bits of scrap tucked into his robe. "As long as you remain calm, you will be fine", Vivian said as she briskly walked out of the captain's quarters and began her way back to the juggernaut.

Her assumption had been correct. The moment she set foot outside the bridge, hundreds of the orbs appeared in the darkness around her. This time, however, they didn't slink away when she shone her flashlight at them. Instead, the beam of light revealed hordes of heavily armed jawas. They squealed at the light, but continued following her through the vents and bulkheads of the ship, each holding either an old imperial weapon that had been taken from the destroyer or weapons of their own odd design. Whenever they got too close, Vivian would tilt her blaster closer to the back of her hostage and they would give her room.

She felt uncomfortable taking a civilian hostage and she was still unbalanced from her migraine in the medical deck. In addition, the Jawa in her arm was getting too panicked for her to consistently control. To calm both herself and her hostage, Vivian began talking. Her Jawa was not great, but it was a required language to know in order to become an infiltrator. She started by calmly asking her hostage his name. The Jawa looked up at her with both confusion and surprise. Its luminous eyes were still full of fear, but it no longer was squirming. "Loog", the Jawa responded, "What's yours?"

"Call me 'V'", Vivian responded. "Do you make a habit of sneaking up on people?" The jawa shook his head and nervously wrung his hands. "No mahm, I was just surprised to see someone up there. Nobody enters the upper levels of the ship anymore, except for my family and I. My grandad sent me up there a couple weeks ago to find a hidden piece of tech the rest of the clan couldn't locate. He said I had an eye for hidden bits."

"Is that so", Vivian said. " I'm afraid I'll have to hang onto this little keepsake. I traveled a long way to acquire it. Still, you shouldn't go empty handed." Vivian took her index finger off her blaster and removed one of her lock picks from her belt. It was a simple pick, nothing to rival her more complicated devices, but the Jawa was mesmerized by it nonetheless. Vivian felt like a load had been taken off her shoulders when she saw the fear disappear from the young Jawa's eyes. Perhaps she wouldn't need to use her blaster after all. Vivian had made it all the way back to the medial deck when she heard a gravelly, reptilian voice on a megaphone outside.

Disturbance of the Peace

Ghaghikh Lghghagh stood in the precinct's rec room sipping on a cold cup of coffee and listening to the police scanner. Crime always took a slight upturn on Alderaan Day. Businesses would close for the day and leave themselves wide open to looters and vandals. Meanwhile, most of the capitol's middle class and wealthy would be paying homage to Alderran by attending a nighttime vigil preceded by fairground festivities. The irony behind the jubilant fairground celebrations (fireworks, rides, food, etc.) and the somber origin of this holiday was not lost on Ghaghikh. He had been to Alderran long ago while following up on a missing person case. The planet was serene and peaceful and the people were welcoming. It was hard to believe it no longer existed.

Ghaghikh looked out the rec room's window. Fireworks were being launched over the coastal fairgrounds, illuminating the chrome and marble skyscrapers that surrounded the precinct. The festivities bathed the capitol in warm light, adding to the sounds of Alderrani music and the smell of Alderrani food emanating through the air. The capital was taking a day off from its troubles, Ghaghikh wasn't. Beyond the fairgrounds was a small bay that separated the glistening metropolis of the capitol from the slums of "Mothmatown". Despite the light from the fireworks, the breaking yards stood silent and imposing. The destroyers looked like massive crustaceous beasts emerging from the ocean to lay siege to the distracted capitol. Ghaghidih frowned. He felt in his bones that he would be needed tonight.

Ghaghikh had let Naveen off for the weekend. She had volunteered to work during the Alderaan day festivities, but Ghaghikh could tell that she had wanted the weekend off. It wasn't like she would have been much use anyway. Ghaghikh imagined the fireworks distracting her from her duty to the point where she would get shot. He knew she wasn't ready for police work, but he wasn't about to let a force user slip away, not when their precinct was woefully under equipped against Chandrilla's organized crime groups.

Ghaghikh drained the rest of his coffee and turned up the volume on the scanner. There were several small scale drug busts going on in "Mothmatown", but there had been few promising leads towards the major dealers. Except for one. The disgusting human Ghaghikh and Naveen had run into several weeks ago was definitely on a powerful hallucinogen, and Ghaghikh had spent much of his time after that unpleasant interaction securing a warrant to search the house. The man's name was Yafu Malik and he had once been a bomber pilot for the Rebellion. It was difficult to touch the old military types, but Ghaghikh recognized the tell-tale signs of Fluffff egg consumption. If the man could afford such an expensive drug without any indication of having a job, then he was probably a dealer. Now, all Ghaghikh had to do was get in. The decrepit nature of the man's house and the fact that he let his dog run loose meant that Ghaghikh could obtain a warrant on public endangerment charges, but permission for the warrant was coming dreadfully slow from upstairs. Ghaghikh had hoped he could raid Yafu's house today, but it looked like he would have to wait until next week.

At first, night had been going better than Ghaghikh expected. Crime had been way down compared to previous years and there had only been a couple misdemeanors between drunken fairgoers. They had done a thorough sweep of the fairgrounds and snipers (with stun rounds) had been positioned for when chancellor Mothma and senator Organa would appear to make their speeches. Ghaghikh was walking back to the coffee machine to refill his cup (hopefully less cold this time), but the sound of an explosion (much louder than the fireworks) prompted him to rush back to the rec room's window. He scanned the fairground from his window, but couldn't see any fire damage. People were panicking and fleeing en masse, but there didn't seem to be any sign of an attack. Then, something caught his attention from the other side of the bay. One of the destroyers was on fire. "I've got a 10-33", Ghaghikh growled into his transmitter. I want fire control ready and officers en route with containment deflectors. The breaking yards are about to go up in flames.

Ghaghikh plowed into the precinct's garage and entered his armored speeder. He turned on his sirens, opened the door, and sped towards the distant glow of the destroyer. There were three possible explanations for the fire going through Ghaghikh's head. One, the breaking yards were not planned out particularly well, and the fire was a result of gross negligence on the part of the workers and owners. Two, it was a preliminary strike by a crime syndicate or an imperial remnant to draw forces away from the capitol. Three, someone had a vendetta against the Sienar corporation and found this to be the best way to convey their thoughts. Ghaghikh had his money on either the first or third guess.

Nobody in Chandrila, much less in "Mothmatown", liked the Sienar corporation. Raith Sienar had been close friends with Emperor Palpatine and had helped design the TIE fighter, along with the Death Stars. Raith had been staying in his penthouse on Kuat during the secession of the Empire of the Hand, and it had ended poorly for him. Sienar fleet systems had been one of the few organizations to fight this change of powers and they were utterly crushed by the Hand's army. Nobody in the New Republic knew exactly what happened to Raith when the army troops stormed his penthouse. Some believe he took his life before they reached him, others believe he was given to his civilian workers and lynched. The only constant was that Raith's family fled to Chandrilla afterwards looking for sanctuary. They no longer had their wealth, but the Sienar family did possess the skills needed to accelerate the construction of the New Republic's brand new battleships. Without their contribution, a number of decisive victories would not have occurred and the war would have gone on much longer. Years later, the Seinar built battleships were still a major deterrent against Thrawn's ever growing fleet and what few independent imperial warlords remained.

However, many in the New Republic still loathed the Seinar family. They had helped build war machines that had taken countless lives, and they had only changed sides when their own lives were in danger. Many people in the capital, both politicians and common workers, viewed the Sienar breaking yards as a blemish on Chandrila and one that would do well to burn away. Now, they might get their wish.

By the time Ghaghikh got to the breaking yards many of his officers and fire control units were already there. Ghaghikh stepped out of his speeder and ran up to one of his lieutenants. She was a tall, heavy Ithorian who was carrying several 200 pound containment deflectors. Upon seeing the captain approach, the lieutenant set down the deflectors and gave a quick salute. "We found the source of the fire," the Ithorian said, " debris from the second destroyer came loose and impacted one of the walkers below. More fire control teams are en route from the capital, but we have to assume the ship's fuel lines are ready to blow."

"Is there anyone still in the destroyer?" Asked Ghaghikh.

"I questioned the automated security, and they said no, but their patrol routes don't cover much of the destroyer's interior."

"Leave it up to Seinar to disregard commonplace safety protocol. Finish placing those deflectors, I'll run the perimeter of the ship. If there's anyone in the outer levels of this hulk, I'll notice them."

Ghaghikh then ran back to his speeder and began coasting along the exterior of the destroyer's hull. As he traveled along the thousands of feet of wharf, Ghaghikh's eyes narrowed to slits and his tongue feathered in and out of his mouth. To him, the destroyer was a mass of cold, blue steel. Any warm blooded lifeforms in or on the structure would give off a yellow hue. The predominant smell of the breaking yards was rust and burning oil, but there was something else. The faint scent of womp rat was in the air, obscured behind the more powerful aromas. If Ghaghikh had been younger, he would have missed it entirely. "No", Ghaghikh mumbled. "Not womp rats, Jawas".

Ghaghikh floored his speeder back down the dry dock and skidded to a halt next to his lieutenant. "There's an entire colony of Jawas in that ship, and if we don't want to see their charred bodies on the planetary news tomorrow, we have to start evacuating them now". The lieutenant looked up at the smoking hulk. It towered above them taller than some of the skyscrapers in the capitol. "That's a lot of ship to cover sir", she said, ``We're going to need more men."

"Are the deflectors in place", Ghaghikh asked.

"Yeah, but the fire teams think we'll need more. If the flames reach the reactor's central fuel hub, this destroyer is going to explode."

Ghaghikh snarled to himself. "Why wasn't draining the reactor's fuel tanks the first priority for these Seinar fools!" The lieutenant chuckled to herself mirthlessly. If you have an issue with Seinar, you might as well find a spot in line. I'm going to pull up some more bodies to get the evacuation going." Ghaghikh jogged to the back of his speeder and opened the hatch. Sitting in the back was a applicant can of bacta solution, a set of flash and smoke grenades, Ghaghikh's personal concussion rifle, an empty box of spicy porg legs, handcuffs tailored to a wide assortment of species, body armor, and , "AHA", his megaphone. Ghaghikh turned the device on and cringed as it whined into life. He then took a deep breath and started barking at the destroyer.

Dodging the Coppers Part II

Jaeleno and Abercrombie were not pleased with their situation. The Jawas had bound their hands with plastic zip ties and were ushering them through the pitch black underbelly of the destroyer. For good measure, they had been blind folded with oily rags. Abercrombie could tell from the echo of dripping water emanating around them that they were traveling along a walkway through a large, empty room, but he was otherwise oblivious. They heard their new pal Tralalog announce "Uwatta martini!" and Jaeleno felt something small, cold and sharp rub against his hands. "Listen Tralalog", Jaeleno said nervously, "There really is no reason for us to get feisty here. I am still perfectly willing to pay you and your kin extra if you let us go in peace. I am a man of my…" The plastic zip type snapped open and fell to the ground and the jawa with the knife slinked back into the darkness. Jaeleno rubbed his wrists as they released Abercrombie. Both their blind folds were taken off.

High above them, Jawas were turning on low power lanterns, revealing that they were inside a cavernous, oblong room. Based on the extreme levels of rust on the walls and the fact that conduits spread out from every direction, Jaeleno assumed they were in the ship's old water storage tanks. That didn't help much since he didn't know where that was in a star destroyer, but it was a start if he could contact Yafu. Unfortunately, the Jawas had taken his transmitter, and were now disassembling it and fiddling with its internal wiring. Yorg had ripped off the heads of the droids and a tide of Jawas were now inspecting their interior mechanisms as well. Jaeleno took a closer look around as his eyes adjusted to the low light. Attached to the walls, conduits, and ceiling were an assortment of metal and wooden huts. Hundreds of eyes were looking down at them from shoddily crafted windows and splintering porches.

Tralalog stepped onto Yorg's hand and was set on the ground before Jaeleno and Abercrombie.

"I told you that I will not accept a bribe", Yorg said. "So let me tell you what I know. There are three of you on the ship, one of which is female and more predatory than you two. I know that you came here for several pieces of pre reconstruction tech. You two went for the stasis chamber and the girl went for something in the captain's quarters. Based on that information, I would assume you are scrappers after some particularly rare and expensive gear. However, three questions remain on my mind. How did you get on this ship, what type of lockpick device is your friend using, and why do your droids have recording devices installed in them?"

"I beg your pardon", Jaeleno responded. "Our droids have WHAT in them?!"

"Gonk Gonk Gonk goong Gonk?" Gong gong Gongk. Gong Gong Whiirrrr Gonk", mumbled Yorg from behind Tralalog. The old jawa stared into Jaeleno's eyes for a whole five seconds before talking next. It is impossible for me to tell whether you are lying or not. You have the voice of a liar, but the eyes of a truthful man. Let me see if your companion is as complicated."

Abercrombie glanced at Jaeleo nervously and began fiddling with his translator to find the Jawa setting. "That will not be necessary", said Tralalog. "Let us converse in the language of the kings." Tralalog and Abercrombie then began talking in a high pitch, shrill language reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard. As they conversed, Jaeleno's shirt started to get soaked with sweat. Abercrombie was using arm gestures quite frequently while talking to Tralalog, which Jaeleno recognized from every time Abercrombie had given him a scathing lecture about bad business decisions. The decorum between the Jawa and the lizard monkey definitely portrayed the same energy. Tralalog, Yorg, and the surrounding horde of Jawas were steadily getting more agitated. "Abercrombie, please don't antagonize our hosts", Jaeleno squeaked behind a forced smile. Abercrombie looked at Jaeleno with furious eyes and said something he didn't understand. That was when they heard the deafening boom of a megaphone.

"This is Ghaghikh Lghghagh of the capitol police department! The premises is on the verge of complete structural collapse! We are sending in officers and paramedics to evacuate you!" Jaeleno wrung his hands. "I don't think it would be beneficial for either party if the law found us. I will offer you 100,000 credits right now if you let us go." Tralalog shook his head. "You really are a one trick pony aren't you? No thanks, I will take your associate's offer instead."

"That being?" Jaeleno responded, surprised.

"You don't understand your own second without a translator? So be it, We are taking your Juggernaut to your property. The way Mr. Abercrombie describes it, we will be far from the gaze of the law. Consider yourself lucky Mr. Jaeleno. The alternative was us claiming you were imperial terrorists and buying ourselves time to escape by turning you in. Abercrombie's idea is far superior, won't you agree?"

Jaeleno had some choice words for both Abercrombie and Tralalog but was interrupted by the sound of breaching charges going off all across the hull. "That would be the police", Tralalog said. "We should get moving". With that, the entire room started to flow with Jawas. They descended from their makeshift huts carrying various generators, droid parts, and industrial mechanisms Jaeleno did not recognize. "Wait, where did you stash my stasis chamber!" Jaeleno shouted to Tralalog over the thunder of scampering feet. "Fear not, Yorg has it", the Jawa responded. In the back of the room, Yorg grabbed the stasis chamber with one clawed hand and slung it over his shoulder. "Gonk", he said.

"Now, where might your juggernaut be?" Tralalog asked. Jaeleno took a moment to weigh out whether he could lose the Jawa horde while still escaping the destroyer with the stasis chamber. No he probably couldn't. He sighed then answered. "It's partially submerged in the main hangar. We got here by driving along the dredged zones." Tralalog started twirling one of his whiskers. "Those waters are infested with gooberfish! How desparte were you for this thing (pointing at the stasis chamber)!"

"Desperate enough to take the same route out of here. We should hurry."

Despite Jaeleno and Abercrombie's best efforts, they did not actually hurry down the hallways. The Jawas had not seen it fit to light their path, so the two frequently bumped into the walls, tripped over debris, and accidentally knocked over Jawas. After being plowed over for the third time, Trallalog gave in. "I've had enough of this'', he said, "Yorg!" The iron thing then silently reached out from behind Abercrombie and Jaeleno and began carrying them behind the stream of Jawas. They had been moved along in this fashion for around five minutes and had ascended several flights of stairs when they reached the T-intersection they had crossed earlier. They weren't alone. A single flashlight blinded them from the top of the stairs. "Utawawa", Tralalog shouted, and the Jawas dove into vents, through crevaces, and hid behind bulkhead doors. Yorg set Jaeleno and Abercrombie down before curling up and blending in with the litter of industrial junk. The flashlight shone down the hallway and came to rest on Yorg. A familiar voice then echoed down the hallway. "If you want me to return this little one in good faith, you will clear my path and return my crewmates to me. I know you have them."

"Nah, we're pretty good, Vivian", Jaeleno shouted from down the hallway. "We're actually taking these guys with us onto the juggernaut." They could now see Vivian's outline behind the flashlight. She was holding a jawa in one arm and grasping her blaster and flashlight in the other. This did not please the Jawa's around them. Tralalgog shouted something in Jawa to Vivian's hostage and Vivian responded in the same language. Meanwhile, Yorg leaned over and picked up a jagged beam of rusting iron. All around them, Jawas were unfastening their weapons.

This wasn't an ideal situation. Vivian had lost radio contact with Yafu, Jaeleno, and Abercrombie ever since she had left the bridge. She suspected they had been delayed by jawas. Loog (still held in her arm) had been a means to get them back. However, she had not accounted for just how many jawas were on the ship. She estimated no less than 200 flowing in from the hallway, not to mention the 20 or so that had been following her. She also had not accounted for the fact that Jaeleno had already made a deal with them. Jawas were notoriously loose-lipped and she didn't need them settling into her Juggernaut.

"Here's what we are going to do", Vivian shouted in Jawa. You are going to release my two crewmates and their stasis chamber, we are going to board our transport without you, then you will receive Loog unharmed. If we do this calmly, nobody will get hurt. Tralalog walked forwards out of the crowd and addressed Vivian personally. "We will comply with your requests. You have my word. But know this. Any harm you do to my grandson will be repaid upon you seventy-fold."

"Acknowledged", Vivian said, "let us through".

It was high time they left. Vivian could smell ozone, which meant that the destroyer's fuel rods had started to heat. If they met an open flame, they would explode and the ship would topple down on top of them. Hopefully, the New Republic rescue teams would get to the Jawas before that happened. Yorg stepped forwards and gently set the stasis chamber in the center of the T intersection. From there, Jaeleno and Abercrombie attempted to pick it up. Jaeleno got his side up, Abercrombie didn't. Vivian briskly walked down the stairs to join them. "Abercrombie", she said, " hold this blaster and make sure Loog doesn't run off. I'll take this end."

Abercrombie turned on his translator and began protesting, but Vivian shoved the blaster in his hands and set down Loog. "Keep an eye on him", Vivian reminded Abercrombie as she lifted up her end of the stasis chamber. They began back down the dark hallway they had initially entered from. It was much slower going than Vivian would have tolerated under normal circumstances, but they were in a tight spot. At least Abercrombie was doing his job. He kept the hand cannon pointed firmly at Loog (who was still being cooperative) but he kept saying sorry, over and over again. Further back, the outlines of the Jawas disappeared and their eyes were once again the only things visible.

Without the droids to help them, their going was slow. It had taken eight more minutes to reach the hangar, and the smell of ozone had grown stronger. The water around the Juggernaut had started to boil, and both Vivian and Jaeleno almost scalded their feet as they walked over the soaked barge and onto the hauler. Abercrombie and Loog had stayed on the solid ground of the hangar's flight deck. Though Abercrombe still held the blaster, he no longer had it pointed at his hostage.

"By the force", Abercrombie thought to himself. "This is real." He let the blaster drop as he stared hopelessly at the boiling water in front of him. "This ship is falling apart, our juggernaut is heavily damaged, and we still have to risk running into a goober. All this for a stasis chamber that will plunge us further into the underworld. Well, I'm not having it." Abercrombie turned to look at Loog. The Jawa was equally as terrified, He fiddled with a lock pick in his hands similar to how Abercrombie fiddled with a mechanical pencil when faced with the Sobayaki farm's especially egregious paper trails. If Abercrombie was going to die on this cursed ship, he wasn't going to go down with a hostage. Abercrombie cleared his throat and tapped on Loog's shoulder to get his attention. "Listen, You're free to go fella. Try to find the rescue teams and get off this ship. Even if it means you might be in legal trouble for trespassing, at least you'll be alive. Now go!" Loog scampered up the flight deck and disappeared around a corner. Abercrombie sat criss crossed there on the flight deck. Was it his fault that he let Jaeleno lead them this far? Was he just a bystander or did his own greed lead them to this industrial hellscape as well. He had promised the force and any gods that may govern it that he would steer the farm in the right direction if they survived, and it seemed like it had succeeded with the gooberfish attack. Now, Abercrombie found himself praying again.

Abercrombie heard a muffled shout come from the Juggernaut. It was Vivian and she sounded completely distressed. Jaeleno then emerged from the dorsal hatch of the Juggernaut and jogged over to him. "We've got some bad news and worse news", Jaeleon said. Vivian thinks that Yafu has stolen something from her." Abercrombie gazed lifelessly at the water. "What did Yafu say?", he asked. "That's the worse news. He's not in the juggernaut, and he took the droids with him. Vivian says the Juggernaut is barely repaired from when we arrived. She's trying to fix it now, but I think we might be screwed."

"I let the hostage go" Abercrombie said in a daze. Jaeleno put a hand on Abercrombie's shoulder. "I don't blame you. It wasn't right for Vivian to force that on you." There was a long pause before Jaeleon spoke again. "I gotta admit, this is an awesome way for the Sobayaki drug dealers to get caught. In the center of an exploding destroyer. I bet it would make news planetwide." Abercrombie smiled and stuck out his hand. "It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Jaeleno Sobyaki."

"The feeling is mutual Abercrombie."

"This doesn't have to be the end, you know", came a voice from the service lift behind the two. With a series of booming reverberations, Yorg crawled out of the elevator shaft with Tralalog on his back. The old Jawa slid off the droid's shoulder and walked up to the two drug dealers. "I overheard you just now, and, to be frank, I already guessed that you were peddlers of illegal merchandise. I can help. My family and I worked for these breaking yards for years before we finally had enough of the Seinars. There is no system we are not aware of, no machine we cannot fix, except for a star destroyer beyond its reactor meltdown threshold. My grandson told me what you said, Mr. Abercrombie. I would sooner take my chances on this ship than find myself and my family at the mercy of the law. The Seinar bunch have power within the capitol, and my family would not be safe in custody. Therefore, I do humbly offer my services to your cause if you allow my family and I to flee our impending doom on this destroyer. If you tell us to run, we shall sprint, If you instruct us to jump, we shall ask how high. Please, just let us catch a ride off this ship."

…

"You absolute idiot!" Vivain screamed at herself. She was attempting to lock down the juggernaut's engine breach, but her mind was preoccupied elsewhere and the monkey wrench in her hands kept slipping into the waist high water. Taking risks was necessary in spy work, and bringing Yafu along for this mission was a big one. She had hoped that Yafu's dependence on Jaeleno's drugs would have rendered him complacent and non questionative, but she had been wrong. Ever since she had brought out her sniper rifle at the beach, Yafu had been onto her. She now looked up at what was left of the door sealing her personal quarters. Yafu must have jerry rigged some of the scuttling detonators into breaching charges. He had then stolen several of her more expensive (and imperial) weapons and had made off with the crystal lense to her hologram projector. If the lense was given over to a proper analysis device, it could provide impressions from the most recent hologram transmissions. In Vivian's case, it would show a status update directly to Maximilian.

Vivian would have pursued Yafu, but he had a head start by a matter of several hours. Even if she found him, she would still have to worry about the destroyer exploding and, more importantly, the New Republic rescue teams. Yafu had also left the Juggernaut in a state of disrepair. He had plugged most of the external breaches, but the water level had still risen up to Vivian's waist. The engine breach they had entered the destroyer with also had not been mended, and the Juggernaut was no longer capable of starting. Vivian picked up the wrench and tossed it at the far wall. The sound of its collision rang through the hauler like the sound of a church bell before it plopped unceremoniously into the water. "That's it", Vivian though, "I'll have to scuttle the juggernaut and swim for it. If Yafu has already gotten away, there's no need for me to worry about Jaeleno and Abercrombie. They'll either keep up or the rescue teams will find them." She climbed out of the main cargo hold soaking wet and leaned her head against the cockpit door.

She wished she was back on the Dévastation. She wished that Maximilian had given her another mission. Disposing of the loyalist warlords like Perth was certainly more dangerous, but it helped that they were almost all idiotic, driven by faith in Palpatine and ruthlessness rather than cunning. The New Republic was different. Outwardly, they were weak. Everyone in the Empire of the Hand knew this. The New Republic had a small navy, barely capable of defending their own borders, and they struggled to find enough fuel to sustain it. Still, they were strong inwardly. Had Chandrilla been controlled by a loyalist warlord, Vivian would have already been offworld with the figurative keys to the planet. Instead, the immense security around the capitol and the breaking yards had forced Vivian to partner with two self proclaimed farmers who probably didn't even know how to till a field, and a rebel junkie who had just run off with some incriminating info. She would have to leave the planet soon.

The dorsal hatch opened and Vivian felt a gust of hot air blow in from the boiling pool above her. Jaeleno stood looking down at her with a half smile on his face. "I take it from the sound of lament coming from down there, you didn't get the reactor patched up?" Vivian glared at him and exhaled between her clenched teeth. "We might actually get out of this ship alive if you helped me instead of sulking outside. If we can't repair the Juggernaut, and I don't think we can, I'll have to scuttle it. That means we are in for a swim. "Jaeleno looked around at the boiling water, perplexed. "Through this?" He said. "Are you joking? What about the stasis chamber?"

"It goes down with the ship, and we'd be lucky not to be in New Republic custody."

"Though taking a dip in boiling, irradiated, goober infested water does sound tempting, I may have a counter proposal for you." Jaeleno turned around and was handed something from the barge (though Vivian did not see who was handing him the object). When Jaeleno turned back to face Vivian, he was holding one side of a vacuum tube that may have once been a hydraulic line for an ATAT. The other side was held by Tralalog.

Vivian shook her head and grasped the handle of the throwing knife in her back pocket. "I thought Abercrombie was keeping them away until we could fix the Juggernaut", she said.

"Yeah, we kinda let that one go", Jaeleno responded. "Plus, you said it yourself, we can't fix this transport, but they might be able to." Tralalog tipped his head in a bow. "Miss, I understand that this transport is yours and that you may not trust a clan of Jawas near your personal articles. I understand that we might have met on the wrong foot, taking members of our respective parties hostage and such. However, our current situation changes things. I can repair your juggernaut and promise complete secrecy regarding whatever is inside if my family and I can get a ride out of these breaking yards. Vivian stared coldly at Tralalog. Jawas were notorious thieves and snitches (for the right price), but, if Yafu had already escaped with incriminating information, what else did she have to lose.

"We don't have time to brood on this issue", Jaeleno said, "I think the ceiling is starting to melt." Vivian knew what she had to do and felt like every iota of professionalism as a spy had left her. The only remaining way to salvage her mission was to get the flight recorder to Maximilian. Even if she survived the dive through the boiling water, it wouldn't be beyond her luck that she would be attacked by a Gooberfish within feet of shore. To hell with secrecy! To hell with the capitol! She just wanted to get off this world with a modicum of success and find a new mission that better suited her. "Ok, just be careful. We have an engine breach on the bottom floor." Tralalg bowed his head again and thanked Vivian profusely. He then turned to the flight deck (now completely filled with Jawas) and shouted, "Yulickilicki!"

The jawas came in droves. Jaeleno and Tralalaog had lowered the vacuum tube into the flooded cargo hold and had attached it to the bilge pump of the barge. The Jawas had then taken an ion thruster from a TIE and used it to send the pump's expeller at incredibly high speeds. Was it safe? No, but they didn't have much time left. Vivian made sure her weapons locker was actually locked and her computer terminal was shut down. She then guided the young and elderly jawas into her personal quarters. Putting them there kept them dry and far away from the engine breach. Yorg walked back and forth from the hangar to the barge, carrying support columns he had ripped from the destroyer's walls. He would then use his massive claws to cut these bars to size and carefully lower them from the dorsal hatch. Once inside, teams of Jawas (20 to 30) would cut these beams further down and use them to support the gashed ceiling. Segments of TIE fighter wings were lowered in and bolted on top of the minor leaks. By this point, the juggernaut's cargo hold had been drained of water. Above them, the roof of the hangar was glowing a soft, dull shade of red. The destroyer was about to cave in on itself.

Tralalog rubbed a grease of unknown origin into his fur and over his cloak. He then climbed into the maintenance tunnel towards the Juggernaut's engine breach. The jawas formed a line from this maintenance tunnel all the way out into the hangar resembling a giant nerve cell. Whenever tralalog shouted for a part, the message was carried along the line into the hangar, and a part returned a minute later. Five minutes passed, then ten. Abercrombie and Jaeleno looked up nervously as the hangar roof started to sag. Finally, Tralalog emerged. His red cloak was charred black and the grease he had put on caused his whiskers to smoke. "You all pushed this hauler to its limits", he said, "You were lucky not to have stalled out before reaching the surface. Regardless, our work is complete, let's depart."

The collection of jawas flowed into the hauler like oil flowing through a funnel. All and all, several hundred of the little rodents were jammed into the Juggernaut. Every conceivable space was packed with them. There were layers of them suspended from the support beams in the cargo hold, rows upon rows in the second level walkway, and loads more in the smaller rooms. The Cockpit itself housed some 20 Jawas even though Vivian was pretty sure the room's maximum occupancy was six. Yorg could not fit through the dorsal hatch so he sat on top of the hauler strapped down with bungee cords. In the cockpit, Tralalog rubbed his hand together before shoving his arm into the exposed wiring surrounding the steering column. With Yafu gone, Vivian was behind the main steering wheel, Abercrombie was the copilot, and Jaeleno was navigator. None of them were looking forward to it. The engine whined several times, coughed, then died. "If you excuse me for a moment", Tralalog said. He then calmly walked out of the dorsal hatch, crossed the barge, and started looking for something in the hangar. Meanwhile, Vivian Jaeleno, and the cockpit jawas all eyed the hangar roof. It was now glowing a bright yellow, and golf ball sized globs of molten steel were starting to fall into the water and adorn the top of the juggernaut.

They could see Tralalog in the back of the hangar with the head of an R2 droid. He had just pried a small, conical shaft from the exposed neck of the droid when they saw movement at the other side of the hanger. Inside rushed four police officers and ten paramedics. They were covered in soot and their uniforms were soaked through with sweat. Leading this group was a thoroughly tired Transdocian, whom the Sobayaki crew immediately recognized. It was Ghaghikh Lghghagh! Jaeleno didn't bother poking his head up through the dorsal hatch. He simply shouted, "Run for it Tralalog!"

Tralalog placed the piece of machinery between his teeth and tightened his cloak around his waist. He then dropped to all fours and began an all out sprint to the juggernaut. "Stop!" Ghaghikh shouted (out of breath and with one hand on his knee). "We are here to rescue you! This entire destroyer is about to come down!" Tralalog did not pay the old lizard any attention and hopped onto the barge. Yorg unfastened one of the bungee cords strapping him in place and grabbed the section of the barge moored to the juggernaut. Once Tralalog was inside and the dorsal hatch was closed, Yorg heaved the barge to the other side of the boiling pool. The juggernaut was now isolated from the feds.

"What was that?" Abercrombie asked as Tralalog pushed his way back into the cockpit. "Is the destroyer starting to give way?" Tralalog shook his head as he lined up the astromech part perpendicular with the juggernaut's accelerator pedal. "Soon, but not yet. Yorg is buying us some time to get out of here", Tralalog answered. Outside, Ghaghikh was shouting something into his loudspeaker, but they could not hear him behind the roar of boiling water. Loog emerged from the cargo hold and handed Tralalog a monkey wrench and a crowbar. Tralalog then pulled apart the floor around the accelerator and squeezed into the hydraulics and wiring below the driver's chair (prompting Vivian to move her legs to the dash). Tralalog stuck his head out and gestured for the monkey wrench. He disappeared back into the floor with the astromech part and the wrench then came back up drenched with more grease. "I think a damaged motivator next to the forwards shield generator was sapping power from the rest of the vehicle. If a new motivator doesn't fix this, We'll have to cut out most of the control panel before its fixed. Tralalog reached into the steering column and the Juggernaut hummed back to life. It sounded more like a sick gargle than the steady purr they had first descended into the waves with, but it was preferable to staying put.

A speeder bike sized slab of molten steel oozed from the hangar's ceiling and splashed into the water with a massive column of steam. This created a hole in the ceiling through wich the floors above were visible. They were burning furiously and a steady stream of molten steel continued to ooze through. This prompted Ghaghikh and his accompanying officers to retreat with the paramedics. Ghaghikh turned back and casted one last look at the juggernaut before fleeing the hangar. Vivian read his expression before he turned away. He looked tired, confused, and a little sad. She saw his lips silently speak "We could have saved you!" If this was any indication, he did not know that she was here nor that she was imperial, not yet anyway. "Now might be a good time to start driving", Tralalog squeaked. All the Jawas had their eyes on Vivian and were nervously wringing their hands. Vivian took a deep breath, put her hands on the steering wheel and slipped the juggernaut under the boiling water.

If Vivian had one credit for every time she fled a burning destroyer in a damaged vehicle, she would only have two credits, but it was still odd that she found herself doing it twice. Vivian activated the single running light that still worked, but she doubted she would need it right away. Straight ahead and above them, a short distance from the dredged out abyss, was the reactor's bulbous exterior plating. It was burning so hot that the water around it churned and bubbled. Huge sections of the destroyer's underbelly were coming loose as their bearings melted and were embedding themselves into the seabed around the juggernaut. Vivian kept her eyes moving between the melting destroyer, the abyss, and her flickering sonar as she sped along. "Tralalog, were you able to repair the shield generator enough that it could deflect some of this debris?", She asked. Tralalog's answer came quickly and frantically. "No! Don't turn on the shield! That motivator swap was a quick job. If you input a shield activation request, we might lose power altogether!"

"Ok", Vivian said too quietly for anyone to hear.

Vivian was now sweating heavily. During her escape from Perth's destroyer, she at least knew her path and what was wrong with her vehicle. Here, she was in the dark. "Remember, we destroyed the dune bridge on our way in '', Abercrombie said after peeking at the sonar. "We should make a left to the next dredge site and cross there." Vivian pressed her foot to the break, causing the jawas and Jaeleno to pile up behind and next to her. She made a sharp left turn and carefully cruised between the side of the docks and the abyss of the dredged zones. A tapping then came from the roof of the juggernaut. At first Vivian thought it was debris from the destroyer, but she suddenly recognized it to be morse. Yorg was sending a message from his vantage on top of the Juggernaut. "[ Destroyer reactor about to fall out of socket - Advise additional speed and preparation for massive concussive force]". Tralalog climbed over the other Jawas and was about to tell Vivian what Yorg had just said, but she quietly muttered, "I heard him".

Apparently, Abercrombie could also understand morse because he turned towards Jaeleno and instructed him to grab onto something. Tralalaog traveled into the rear of juggernaut and began instructing the other jawas to brace themselves. They were coming up on the second dune bridge and Vivian applied the brakes before making a sluggish right turn away from the docks. She hated taking up this extra time to break, but the unstable sand could give way if she didn't. It was taking every ounce of control she had not to slam onto the accelerator, but she had to make sure they were properly aligned with the dune before flooring it. She then hear Yorg tap "[Critical reactor has detached from hull, 16 seconds to impact]"

"Screw it". Vivian floored the accelerator and the juggernaut surged forwards. The sudden acceleration caused several of the hull's breach points to start leaking again (which the jawas immediately set to repairing). Vivian could feel some sluggishness in the front right wheel. Even if she knew what that problem was, she could not do anything about it. Now, there was nothing but the fire of adrenaline pumping through her and the bleak darkness in front of the cabin. Her eyes followed the narrowing dune as if it were a screen of targeting computers. She drowned out the tapping of Yorg and the praying of Abercrombie, and simply kept her eyes locked in front of her. She could see the open seabed ahead. They were 50 meters away, now 20 meters, now… "PHOOOOOM". The back of the juggernaut rose until Vivian was only driving on two wheels. They were propelled across the dune bridge like this, but the shockwave did not stop there. The front of the hauler jammed into the ocean sediment like a plow's blade and they came to a dead stop. Jawas were flung all over And Vivian's head was thrown against the control panel… hard. Jaeleno lost his grip and did an unintentional backwards flip over Abercrombie's copilot seat. Vivian tried to push herself off the console but was too weak to do so. She felt her forehead and looked at her hand. Her vision was blurry, but she could still see the dark blue color of her blood. She also felt it flowing down her nose and dripping onto the dash. "No, not again, not like this' ', Vivian mumbled to herself. She tried to push herself up, but felt her eyes roll back as she passed out.

A Professional Farewell

"Mennahg Dieg Mehhag. Ughull Allisch Angh Mehhag"

"Run swiftly with the light, my child, for the night pursues with ravenous hunger"

Vivian felt like she had a terrible hangover. Her head throbbed and moving made her sick to her stomach. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. She had been propped up in a spring bed with several layers of blankets over her. A bacta infused towel was wrapped around her forehead. As she took it off, she found a bandage was fastened to the wound underneath. She scanned the room for her gear and found it propped next to a closet near the foot of the bed. The room had ashwood floors and a black iron fireplace that still smoldered lightly. There was a thick glass window above her that let in sunlight, but obscured the image coming in from outside. Vivian pulled the covers off and saw she was still wearing the clothes from the destroyer. They were discolored blue from her injuries. She swung her legs over and winced as her right knee flared up. Whatever trauma she had endured from the crash must have done some damage to her bad leg. She quickly did a self diagnostic. She was bruised, and felt disoriented, but her vitals all seemed stable. Vivian put on her holster and jacket, then opened the door.

The bedroom opened up into a small, carpeted living room. There were pictures on the wall of a middle aged man holding up a large green and orange game fowl with a young boy beside him. A cycler rifle was slung over the younger one's shoulder and an array of rifle slugs were stuffed into his pocket. Vivian recognized the make of the cycler rifle. It had been the same one Abercrombie had pointed at her when she had been confronted on the juggernaut several weeks ago. Heaps of paperwork were piled on an ornate cedar coffee table in the center of the room, and a terrarium of several colorful mushrooms and different flora was plugged into a heater below one of the windows. Vivian heard the unlatching of a door and silently backtracked into an adjacent bathroom. She stayed there and looked out the crack of the door into the living room.

The sound of footsteps came from somewhere to Vivian's right, and she saw a shadow casted by the windows. It turned and began making its way to the room Vivian had been unconscious in. The figure passed the bathroom intoVivian's field of view. She let her own tension go when she saw it was Jaeleno. He was carrying a cup of Bantha milk and an omelet similar to the one she had ordered when they had first met. He was struggling to open the latch while still holding onto the food, but he managed to get it open with his elbow. He then quietly swore to himself when he saw the room was empty. He set the food on the coffee table and gathered a couple pieces of paperwork before turning towards the stairs.

"Wait", vivian said as she walked out of the bathroom. Jaeleno jumped and wheeled around to face Vivian. "How long were you lurking in there?!" He said. "Not long", Vivian responded, "Are we back on your property?"

"Yeah. We got here around seven this morning."

"And what time is it now?"

"Around noon. Do you have time to stay for a late breakfast? I kept the griddle going for you… That is if you're feeling well enough to eat?"

Vivian nodded and sat down on one of the chairs around the coffee table. Jaeleno sat across from her. She took several sips from the glass, but was still feeling too ill to eat. Vivian looked up at Jaeleno and asked, "How did we get back after the crash?"

"The Jawas helped." Yorg was able to pull the juggernaut out of the muck and Tralalog started a high pressure pump to prevent the vehicle from flooding again . We lost the last headlight so I had Abercrombie mann the sonar while I drove us to a boat launch. It took us hours to find one that was abandoned, and we nearly crushed a poor guy's fishing trawler. But, after that, we weaved our way into the backroads of moraine country and vanished into the woodland trails leading to my property. The juggernaut still runs if you want it?"

"I'm better off letting you keep it. Chandrilla is going to be scouring this region for a 'used' juggernaut. It's not going to do me any good anymore."

Jaeleno nodded and picked up a remote control for a television next to the terrarium. "Speaking of which", he said as he clicked the remote. The television fizzled into life, displaying an aerial view of the breaking yards. Bulbous Mon Cala cruisers were hovering over the site, dumping tons of fire retardant over the smoldering wreckage. The harbor beyond the breaking yards had been shut down and gooberfish (amongst other marine life) were seen floating on the surface, killed by the radiation from the explosion. "Some of the reporters have been calling it a terrorist attack", Jaeleno said sourly. "A loose womp rat could have done the same amount of damage that we … I did to that ship. If you need to lay low for a couple weeks, you're welcome to that bedroom (gesturing to the room Vivian had woken up in). Vivian laughed softly. "I appreciate that Jaeleno, I really do", she said. "But I have to leave. My purpose on this planet was to determine whether the New Republic wanted war, not to stir one up. If you give me some time, I'll see to it that suitable compensation comes your way." Jaeleno shook his head. "There's no need", he said. "I got the stasis chamber hooked up in the barn. With Tralalog handling the mechanical bugs, it will work out quite well."

"You're keeping the Jawas then?"

"Why not, they proved their worth several times over. Plus, I'm growing fond of them."

There was a lull in conversation as they both watched the news coverage. "One last thing I thought you might want to know", Jaeleno said. Vivian looked up from her glass and motioned for him to continue. "You were mumbling something when you passed out." Vivian set down the glass and looked Jaeleno over plainly. "Did I say something that would make you a liability", she asked. Jaeleno gave a hearty laugh and a smile crept back onto Vivian's face. "No", Jaeleno said mirthfully. "It was some gobbly gook none of us understood. Even Abercrombie's translator didn't pick up anything."

"Well, I appreciate the heads up. Next time I'll make an effort not to become unconscious on the job." Vivian got up from the chair and double checked her gear. "I should be on my way", she said. She extended her hand and Jaeleno grasped it in a handshake. "It was my honor doing business with you", he said. "The feeling is mutual", she responded. Vivian then pulled herself forwards and kissed Jaeleno. "Good fortunes to you, Mr Sobyaki", she said before walking upstairs and leaving the farmhouse.

Wusha's Paradise

(The Next Day)

"You're saying she just walked out the door without me noticing?" Abercrombie said in a fluster as Jaeleno drove the delivery speeder down the highway. "That basically sums it up", he responded. Abercrombie double checked that the blanket they had put over the crates in the back had not come undone before continuing his tirade. "So, at the very least she gave us a final payment before going?"

"One might be coming in the mail,"

"In the mail? IN THE MAIL! She played you like a damn kloo horn Jaeleno! We could have gotten another hundred thousand credits from her before she went. Instead, you just let her slip away scott free. This may be new to you, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life working for Mutsa Wusha!"

"Calm down Abercrombie. The worst is behind us now. If I counted correctly, we have about 900 high quality fluff eggs in the back. That's more than enough to make up for Vivian not giving us a farewell gift. Besides, we should be relieved. The police are withdrawing from the suburbs and flooding into Mothmatown after the destroyer explosion. We won't have to be as worried about making routine deliveries to Wusha's Paradise anymore."

"No. We should still be plenty worried. We lost all of the droids getting the stasis chamber, and I don't think the Jawas are going to be keen on showing their faces in the city again. It's just us making deliveries, and I want to minimize the amount of times we visit that hutt in person."

They turned off from the highway and pulled into the strip mall's parking lot. The sun rose up from the East and casted long, riblike shadows from the skyscrapers. It was a cloudless morning, but the smoke made it look overcast. The time was 8:00 A.M., later than they had hoped to arrive, but it had taken all of yesterday to finish making the new batch of Flufffff eggs. Jaeleno had sworn that the spa only got busy after 11:00 A.M., but he was decidedly wrong. The parking lot was nearly full, and the majority of the vehicles were parked around Wusha's Paradise. A pink, plastic sign was propped up against the window reading, "Alderaan Day weekend special. Get a haircut and your next massage is 50% off!". Jaeleno turned off the ignition and double checked that their cargo was still concealed. "Stay with the car Abercrombie", he said. "I'll only be a minute".

Jaeleno passed through the crystal sliding doors and underneath the glowing neon sign of the spa. The inside was separated into three different rooms coming together to form a Y shape. The room closest to Jaeleno was filled with different species getting their haircut (or whatever passed for hair for some of them). The room off to the left had various different massage beds with a large assortment of multi armed droids and alien masseuses. The right room had different tubs filled with hot water, mud, and other types of non solid matter. Going from room to room were servers giving out orderves and beverages custom ordered by the individual being pampered. It was bustling with activity.

Jaeleno found an empty seat in the waiting room. Normally, he would have used his transmitter to give a clearance code, but the Jawas had not yet repaired it from the night on the destroyer. Therefore, Jaeleno hoped that the cashier would know who he was. He leaned back to get a look at whom he would be dealing with. The cashier was a thin, middle aged human with glossy brown hair, and a flower patterned T-Shirt. He looked like an oblivious college student. Jaeleno rubbed his eyes and groaned. He was feeling the after effects of adrenaline and not sleeping properly for two days. He didn't think it would affect his professional demeanor with Mutsa Wusah, but the gut feeling that usually told him things would be all right wasn't there today.

"Looks like you really need this", a female voice said from the seat next to him. Jaeleno looked over and saw a green skinned mirialan woman who appeared several years younger than himself. Jaeleno smiled and gave a fake laugh, buying himself time to formulate a story if he should need one. He usually didn't mind interacting with the sociable types, he was one himself, it was just that now wasn't the best time. "Yeah, this has been long overdue", he said. "Who would have guessed that Alderran weekend could be so taxing."

"I know, Especially with the breaking yards accident! Amazing how a single event can transform a weekend, maybe even a year! "

"I heard! Real shame for that to happen. There's still smoke coming up from the site I think. Wonder what would have caused it."

"I'm sure I'll find out soon", said the woman. "I'm an officer for the capitol precinct. I've been trying to help out at the blast site, but my captain won't let me near it. He thinks I'm too inexperienced." The woman paused for a moment. "I also talk too much when I'm nervous. Sorry"

"No problem Jaeleno said, trying to hide his own nervousness. Please continue if you want." Jaeleno really didn't want the girl to continue, but she did anyway. "My captain has been using my inexperience as an excuse to keep me away from the places where I can do the most good. But how can I get better if he keeps sheltering me?"

"Wow. I'm sorry to hear that", said Jaeleno. "Bosses can suck sometimes, right?"

"My captain isn't a bad guy, it's just… he doesn't let me do anything meaningful. I should be helping in the blast site, but my requests have all been denied. It's been driving me crazy! I guess I've been hoping some time here might calm me down until I finally get an assignment."

Jaeleno's mind was now fully awake. He wondered if he could get any news on the whereabouts of Yafu from smalltalk with this officer, but decided against it. The line was shortened down to two people, and he didn't want to keep Abercrombie or Mutsa Wusha waiting. "I'm really sorry to hear all that", he said, "But I'm sure you'll get your chance to make a difference, we all do eventually." The officer smiled and extended her hand. "I'm Naveen by the way", she said. "I've been shaking a lot of hands this weekend", Jaeleno thought as he accepted the hand shake. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance", he responded. When Jaeleno's hand grasped Naveen's, her arm performed an involuntary jerk, as if she had been stung by an insect. "Are you all right?" Jaeleno asked, legitimate concern in his voice. Naveen looked around, dazed, and then back at Jaeleno. "Yeah. Guess I'm just tired. You have a good one." The woman awkwardly walked away to an adjacent ladies room.

Jaeleno approached the reception booth and tried to hide the concern on his face. The cashier looked up from the register with a broad smile of blinding, white teeth. "Welcome to Wusha's Paradise", he said in a cheerful voice Jaeleno found souless and agitating. "How might we make your day more enjoyable?" Jaeleno returned the smile and steadied his nerves. "My feet are sore and I need some me-time. Is anyone at home?" The cashier pressed something on his register and gave Jaeleno another blinding smile. "Ah yes", he said. "I will get someone to take care of you. Just a second." A quarren girl wearing dark red, silk robes walked over from the massage parlor and strode up behind the register. "Please follow Tugra to get your massage", The cashier said.

Jaeleno wasn't sure whether his catch phrase had been recognized or not, and he certainly didn't want to waste time getting a massage while hundreds of thousands of credits worth of drugs were sitting in the parking lot. "So, is Ms. Wusha here today?" Jaeleno inquired of the masseuse. "Why yes she is", the quarren responded in perfect basic. "However, she isn't taking visitors at this moment. You can stop by later tonight if you want to book us out." Jaeleno was led to a medium sized massage table and the quarren started taking off his shoes. Jaeleno checked that there were no people within immediate earshot and then leaned in closer to the masseuse. I have some supplies for this establishment waiting outside. I'm wondering if Wusha has time to talk about it. The quarren did not break from her massage routine, but as she worked up closer to Jaeleno's shoulder blades, she whispered in his ear. "You missed your delivery deadline this morning. You'll have to come back after hours. Until then, try to enjoy yourself.'' As much as Jaeleno was distressed to hear that he would have to wait, it was hard not to savor the next couple hours.

The Task Force

(Seven years ago, - In hyperspace at the edge of the Arkanis Sector- Southeast quadrant of the galaxy)

Maximilian de la Château leaned against the railing in the Dévastation's bridge. To the left and right of him, officers were relaying and receiving messages from engineering and combat decks. The officers in the command trenches were often overlooked by the more cruel and ignorant captains. They were seen as disposable menials, barely above droids. However, the vital importance of the bridge's command staff was not lost on Maximilian, nor was it lost on any of the other captains in the task force. Every movement of the destroyer, every message intercepted, every flight vector calculated ultimately originated from the black uniformed men and women packed into the bridge. They were some of the brightest minds in the Empire, and they had to be.

A minute error in hyperspace jump calculations could result in the destroyer being pulled into a planet's gravity well. Without proper time to calibrate the repulsorlift systems, the ship would wreck upon a planet's surface. This was a very real concern for this mission. The task force had to exit hyper space incredibly close to Ryloth in order to maximize the amount of time they had while the hyper velocity cannon was on the other side of the planet. If they dropped out earlier, Perth would have time to scramble his fighters, launch his ships, and give a firing solution to the cannon. Ryloth did have a moon that could conceal the task force, but it was too far away from the planet to offer any tangible protection once the task force was engaged. Considering they had to get troops on the ground, retreat wasn't a desirable option.

Maximilian looked out of the reinforced bridge of the Dévastation. The task force had made the initial jump scattered to disguise their true numbers and destination, but had rendezvoused with each other halfway to Ryloth. Now, the task force traveled as one unit through hyperspace. The Dévastation was in the center of the unit, and 9 kilometers ahead, flanking the Dévastation, were Balao's Rampage to starboard and McDonnah's Faithful to port. Maximilian had served with Mcdonnah a long time, and he trusted the man's capabilities as a captain. Balao was the rogue variable. Maximilian was under the impression she was fresh out of the academy, and it puzzled him that one with so little experience was given access to such a new and expensive destroyer. She had certainly put in the work outside of combat, scoring near the top on simulation after simulation, but things tended to change for new captains once they actually hit the grinder.

Rampage, Faithful, and two Victory class torpedo ships formed the vanguard of the task force. It was their job to lay fire into the orbital stations over Ryloth and to blunt any fighter sorties launched in return. The second line was the Dévastation and two light carriers. The carriers, under the protection of the Dévastation, would launch their bombers to soften up ground targets for the invasion force. These bombers would also hinder the launch of any destroyers undergoing maintenance on the planet's surface. The fighters would be used to escort the bombers and larger ships of the task force and to make sure the army troopers made it to the ground alive. The third line was composed of two more torpedo ships and the assault ships. The torpedo ships would guard the far flanks and the carriers, while the assault ships would detach once the orbital battle began and offload the army near the cannon. This was not the largest task force Maximilian had ever been a part of, but it certainly was the largest force he had ever been responsible for.

"Does anyone have questions regarding our strategy?" Maximilian asked from the captain's quarters. Holographic projections of McDonnah and Balao stood on the other side of the projection table. Mcdonnah shook his head while Balao reviewed the formation displayed on the table. "I have two", she said. "We are expecting Perth to be fielding three destroyers near the orbital stations, but I've been receiving conflicting reports about his reserves. I don't think we've been properly briefed on how many destroyers he has planetside." Maximilian flicked the holographic screen to a picture taken by a probe droid several days earlier. "I would expect at least five additional star destroyers to be stationed down there. However, I do not believe they are fully rigged for combat. Ryloth is a mineral rich world. Most of the damaged warships in this arm of the galaxy go to Ryloth to make repairs rather than wasting fuel to reach the core worlds. Not all of the ships should be combat ready. If the enemy ships do manage to launch from the planet, our new destroyers still outrange and outgun them. Hopefully they come at us one at a time in a desperate, uncoordinated attempt to retake the orbital stations. We will then focus fire and disable them. If they manage to regroup in force, the destroyers will have to take the brunt of the attack, not the torpedo ships or carriers." Balao put away her notepad. "That was all, sir", she said.

Maximilian grinned. "It's going to take some time for me to get used to that." Mcdonnah chuckled to himself. "What? You're already tired of your new rank, commodore? Because I know someone who could use the position if you're too uncomfortable." Maximilian appreciated McDonnah's attempt at humor. It did nothing to make them less nervous about the upcoming battle, but it was still a worthwhile effort from the newly promoted captain. "I'll keep that in mind, McDonnah, but it really depends on whether or not you impress me today."

"Have I ever been a disappointment?"

"We are about to find out."

A ranking communications officer knocked on the door and Maximilian temporarily shut down the hologram. He opened the door and received a newly formed report. After closing the door, Maximilian turned the hologram display back on. "Any updates we should be aware of?" Balao asked. Maximilian scanned over the report for several minutes before responding. "Let's see, this is a report from our decoys at Endor. The entire rebel fleet has been drawn out from the Sullust system. From the looks of it, most of their capital ships are there, along with… practically all of their ranking command staff. Our decoys will not make their suicide run on the death star until the fighting gets more chaotic." Maximilian read the rest of the report. "The rebel fleet is about to be completely obliterated. They're heavily outnumbered, outgunned, and have just been trapped by interdiction fields. Very soon, The Empire of the Hand will be the only faction fighting against Palapatine."

There was quiet in the room. Neither Balao nor McDonnah knew how to respond to that information. Maximilian spoke again. " I despise the Rebel Alliance, you both know that. They are a collection of pirates, marauders, and anarchists masquerading as New Republicans. However, I don't wish upon anyone what they are about to face. Palpatine is not a forgiving man, neither is Admiral Firmus. For once in my life, I feel sorry for the rebel bastards. Their luck finally ran out. I suspect we will have a battle report from Endor come in after we are already engaged over Ryloth. However, we would do well not to dwell on this news. Let's focus on the job at hand.

The task force was now 15 minutes from Ryloth. Every ship had double checked their fuel tanks, weapon batteries, and launch bays. The shields were tested and the fighters were inspected. Inside the assault ships, soldiers prepared their gear for combat. For Maximilian, the most terrifying aspect of this upcoming battle was the fact that he would have to address Perth and his forces as an enemy not dissimilar to the rebels. He strode back and forth on the command deck, trying to come up with something to say. "Moth Peth", Maximilian mumbled to himself, "We are relieving you of your post. Surrender… As if he would just surrender his territory. Surrender, and we will show you leniency!" Two officers looked up from their positions underneath Maximilian with concern. Maximilian saw this and walked over to them. "You two are responsible for shield distribution are you not? The officers saluted and responded "Sir, yes sir".

"At ease. There is a great deal implied in that duty. You are responsible for the safety of the Dévastation, and I trust you with that responsibility. Forgive me for rehearsing my message to our enemy. It is not my area of expertise. Like you, my main objective is to keep this crew and this task force safe while we complete our duty, not to show bedside manner to Perth and his forces. I expect that the humm of our deflector shields and the flowing melody of our ion fire will be a message concise enough, and elegant enough for Perth to understand. Good luck today gentlemen."

The task force was now five minutes from Ryloth. Maximilian rapped his fingers on the railing of the bridge nervously and hummed a tune Cynthia had come back singing from her first time performing field work as a medical officer.

Victory class torpedo ship

Escort Carrier

Heavy Assault Ship

The Battle Over Ryloth

(4.95 minutes later)

"Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one." The vortex of light died away as the Dévastation entered realspace. Maximilian looked over the bridge's holographic battle display, and saw that the entire task force had dropped out of hyperspace in formation. Good, the navigational officers had done their job. Ahead of them was the planet of Ryloth, one of the largest terrestrial worlds in the galaxy. Its surface was dominated by vast, rocky supercontinents, and leagues of dry grassland gave the planet a thirsty, yellow-green hue. It's few seas and rivers attracted industrialized colonies, giving the appearance of festered gashes in Ryloth's surface. The task force passed by the planet's relatively small moon undetected and got their first look at the opposing force.

Three orbital stations hovered over the planet in a line parallel to the distant equator. The largest of the stations was a ring of reinforced durasteel plating. Even from a distance, Maximilian could see dozens of hangars and hundreds of turbolaser batteries. Around the station's circumference, two star destroyers were held in place by massive docking clamps. A stream of smaller transports were coming up from the planet and entering the docked destroyers, ferrying supplies directly from the surface. The two smaller orbital platforms were of the Golan design. These octahedral battlestations were too small to launch star destroyer sized ships, but they were amongst the most heavily armed and armored space stations for their size. They also had a slew of well protected starfighter bays that would make things difficult. Surprisingly, only one destroyer and a handful of fighters were running patrol duty around the stations. Maximilian had expected Perth to at least have two destroyers prepped for defensive action.

"I have a bearing on the hyper velocity cannon sir", said an officer from the Dévastation's command trench. "We have 28 hours until it is in position to fire."

"Let's get to work then", Maximilian responded. He activated his transmitter and addressed the entire task force. "28 hours from now, we will be under fire from the ground mounted cannon. It is our job to keep the aerial defenses away from the army while they secure the facility. Let's get this done." A tight beam transmitter was then aimed at the orbital stations. "Moff Perth", Maximilian said. "Palpatine has led our Empire to the brink of collapse. We give you the option to join us in recreating it into something better. All you have to do is tell your forces to surrender." Panicked scrambling could be heard on the other side of the transmission, but Perth did not send an answer. "You have the option to save many lives today, Perth. I suggest you take it." Maximilian turned off the transmitter and the task force started accelerating forwards.

"The task force burned ahead at flank speed towards the battlestations. Already, the docked destroyers were powering up their engines for take off. The stream of civilian cargo vessels scattered like a frightened school of fish as the stargoing leviathans closed in on each other. Maximilian received a report saying that the Dévastation's first wave of fighters had been launched. From the Bridge, Maximilian saw the Rampage and Faithful launch their escort of blue TIE fighters as well. The bulkier TIE bombers from the carriers all pulled away from the fleet and turned to port as they began their attack on the planetside dockyards. "Sir, our formation is in ion cannon range of the space stations", said a gunnery officer. "Have us go down to quarter speed", Maximilian responded. "We outrange them for now. I want all three destroyers concentrating ion fire on the battlestation's hangers. If we can short out their ray shields and force the emergency blast doors closed, the stations will be unable to launch enough fighters to deter us. Maximilian heard a communications officer relaying the order in the back of the bridge, and prepared himself for the spectacle.

The ion cannons along the dorsal and ventral spines of the three destroyers swiveled in their barbettes until they pointed towards the orbital stations. Then, a barrage of ice blue hellfire was let loose on the stationary targets. The communications officer put her hand up to the side of her bulky helmet before giving an update. "The Faithful is reporting three successful hangar kills, Rampage is counting two." Maximilian nodded. "What of our bombers?" He asked. The officer relayed the question to the squadron commanders. While she was receiving a response, a voice from the right command trench shouted up to Maximilian, "No less than 40 enemy TIE fighers have broken free from the stations. They are currently in an attack vector to engage the Faithful."

"Did you hear that McDonnah?" Maximilian asked over the intercom. "Hard to miss", the captain responded. "They aint alone. I just saw two of Perth's destroyers pull free from the central dock. They didn't even finish launching procedures." Sure enough, the loyalist destroyers had set their thrusters on full power and literally tore away from the docks. A massive mooring clamp was still attached to one of the ships as they came abreast of each other. The two ships then began racing towards Maximilian's task force with their escort of fighters in tow.

"All point defense mounts stick to your designated quadrants. I don't want any two cannons firing on the same target. Torpedo ships, engage the enemy starfighters at will." The armored sides of the Victory torpedo ships opened, exposing a honeycombed array of torpedo tubes. Then, the two torpedo ships flanking Balao and Mcdonnah let the warheads fly. At least 80 torpedoes had been launched and sped towards the cluster of enemy TIE fighters. The torpedoes encircled the fighters from both port and starboard. Their red smoke trails gave the appearance of massive tentacles penetrating a school of fish. Several of the more skilled loyalist pilots were able to fire on the warheads before they detonated, but the result was inevitable with so many torpedoes going their way. From his position on the bridge, Maximilian could only see tiny flashes of light from the exploding warheads, like embers rising up from a fire. He knew the TIEs had been hit hard.

For each explosion amongst the TIEs, thousands of razor sharp strips of shrapnel spread outwards. The TIEs not incinerated in the explosions were literally torn to shreds. Those further away received critical damage to their controls and crashed into each other. A squadron of enemy TIE bombers went up in flames after the lead bomber's payload was sliced through by shrapnel. "The Victories report the enemy starfighter force has sustained a 28% strength loss", said the communications officer. With their silos empty, the front line torpedo boats dipped down below the destroyers and came to a stop. The rear line torpedo boats then moved up and switched positions with their sister ships.

The Dévastation's starfighter defense weapons rotated in their bearings to find a firing solution on the surviving TIEs. However, they were not yet necessary. The two fresh torpedo boats let loose another volley into the swarm of fighters. This time, the torpedoes followed a more spread out pattern as the enemy fighters scattered to avoid the blast. Their evasion efforts were only partially successful. Maximilian could now see the carnage in detail. Around each explosion, a handful of TIEs erupted into fireballs, dozens more started trailing smoke as their hulls were maimed by shrapnel. Some fighters lost power and drifted towards the planet, others kept pressing towards the task force with chipped wings and fractured cockpits. "The enemy fighter complement has been reduced to 56% strength", said the communications officer. She held her hand to her helmet as she received more information. "The planetary bombing missions have also been largely successful. Only one loyalist destroyer has been able to launch, and it is too damaged to leave the atmosphere."

"This is the best chance we have then", Maximilian said to himself. He activated the intercom to the task force.

"Escort fighters, engage the enemy. Prioritize the bombers and undamaged fighters. Our point defense weaponry will finish off the damaged craft. Assault ships, now is your best chance to reach the surface unscathed. I'm sending one of the Victories with you to provide cover." The heavy assault craft tipped their noses to port and began descending to the planet below. The rear torpedo ship on the port side of the formation broke off with them, along with a small detachment of escorting fighters.

A point defense cannon to the right of the Dévastation's bridge began firing. It's two barrels kicking back and forth like a recruit running in place. Thousands of laser bolts were now raining from the task force. Meanwhile, blue clad TIE fighters and interceptors were charging down the enemy from both port and starboard, intercepting the enemy fighters as they attempted to evade the defensive fire from the capitol ships. Maximilian saw one of the friendly fighters take a hit between the cockpit and the wing from an enemy interceptor. It spiraled down towards the planet. Another friendly took out half a squad of enemy bombers, but was downed by a light missile. "Enemy fighter strength is down to 30%", said the communications officer. "The enemy fighters are beginning to rout." It was true. With so much of their forces obliterated by the torpedo ships, the enemy fighters had been under-equipped to handle an engagement with other fighters. They began to retreat back to the loyalist destroyers and space stations to re-arm and repair. Maximilian opened the tight beam channel and hailed the two loyalist destroyers closing in. "Captains, we do not need to fight. Our goal is to correct the incompetence and brutality enacted by Palpatine's regime. Surrender, and we will treat you with the honor befitting captains of the Empire." This time, the response was immediate, and the voice of Moff Perth gurgled out of the speaker. "You claim to be imperial, yet you betray your Emperor. You claim benevolence, yet you were the first to open fire. I will not surrender to the likes of you, whoever you are. Palpatine selected me to hold this planet, and that is what I shall do, be it against rebels, or traitorous slime like yourself." The transmission ended.

"Six minutes until we are in range of the enemy's long range weaponry", said one of the Dévastation's shield control officers. "Understood", responded Maximilian as he walked over to a hologram table at the rear of the bridge. Holograms of McDonnah and Balao buzzed into life, and McDonnah began talking before his picture had fully materialized. "I performed an all specs scan of the space stations and cross referenced it with Balao. Our ion fire has wreaked havoc on the stations' critical systems. In their current state, Balao thinks we might be able to knock one of the Golan platforms out of orbit."

"Have you already run the calculations?" Maximilian asked Balao.

"Twice already", she responded. The Golan defense platforms have fuel rods located along their docking towers on the dorsal side. All we would need to do is advance far enough for our turbolaser batteries to open fire. Destroying the fuel roads should create enough force to push the station into an unsustainable orbit".

"A very resourceful idea", Maximilian said, a sly smile spreading over his lips. "Unfortunately, our objective was to capture all three stations if possible… but Perth does not know that. Well done captains."

The holograms fizzled out and Maximilian hailed the enemy destroyers once more. "We have won perth! Your orbital battlestations are disabled. One big hit, and we can knock them from orbit. Tell your men to surrender, and we can stop this bloodshed." The channel remained silent for several minutes, and the two enemy destroyers continued closing in "You've won nothing!" Perth finally responded. "I will take my victory in destroying as many of you as possible. This planet does not belong to you. It does not belong to me. It belongs to Palpatine, and he will have you gutted from the heights of Courescont for this treachery!"

"You would sacrifice the lives of your men in those stations, the lives of your men in your destroyer? Do they mean nothing to you?"

"Like all pieces of the Emperor's utopia, they are expendable. Now, shut up and fight, worm!"

The channel was closed and Maximiian stared ahead at the destroyers rocketing towards them at flak speed. It was a suicidal run. There was no means that the two older destroyers could take on the task force. Even a single one of Maximilian's torpedo ships could maim the star destroyers beyond repair, yet Perth chose this. "Is he stupid, or evil?" Maximilian thought to himself. Scalding anger was building up in his chest like a reactor breach. "All hands prepare to engage", Maximilian said. "Let's make quick work of them."

Despite the apparent insanity of Perth, the enemy destroyer captains were not stupid. The moment they were in range, both vessels concentrated fire on the port side torpedo ship. Maximilian swore to himself. In his attempts to get Perth to surrender, he had forgotten to call the weakly armored Victory class ships from the front line. It irritated him that the captains of the Victory class had not said anything, but this error was ultimately on Maximilian. "Victory one and two, come to a full halt and pull yourselves out of range of those destroyers. Do what damage you can on the way." This order had been given too late. The concentrated firepower of the two enemy star destroyers were repelled by the port torpedo ship's shield only briefly. The communications officer reported a 50% shield drop in less than a minute. If the barrage reached the Victory's payload, few people on the ship would survive the detonation.

Maximilian hailed the Faithful and Rampage. "McDonnah, divert all fire to the port side destroyer, the Dévastation will take the one off to starboard. Balao, keep those battlestations disabled. I don't want them to launch reinforcements." Maximilian felt himself pushed against the floor as the Dévastation swerved on its axis to intercept the enemy destroyers. Some distance ahead, Mcdonnah did the same. The Torpedo boats had launched their payload at the two destroyers, but the anti starfighter torpedoes had still been loaded. They penetrated the shields of the enemy ships, but did little more than damage periphery sensors and depressurize non vital crew compartments. Meanwhile, the maelstrom of heavy turbolaser fire from the enemy had finally depleted the port side Victory's shields. The ship's hull began to erode. Entire sections of the armored torpedo tubes were carved off, and an engine ring went floating away. McDonnah and Maximilian were already opening fire in response. A dichotomy of blue ion fire and green turbolaser pelted Perth's vessels. Wherever the ion fire struck, the enemy's shields would recede. Then, a tight cluster of turbolaser bolts would pass through and sink deep into the enemy's hull. The two captains prioritized the weapon mounts while a group of friendly bombers sent a barrage of ordnance into the enemy's ventral reactors. The enemy ships were quickly rendered shieldless and the blue flame of their engines were dying out. The friendly torpedo ship was blackened and badly mauled. It only had one engine left, and a massive gash had been carved into its dorsal side. However, it still had enough hull integrity to launch one last volley of torpedoes before retreating behind the Dévastation. This time, the torpedoes had the appropriate ordnance attached. Two clusters of 20 heavy proton torpedoes snaked their way around the Dévastation and plunged into the bridge sections of the enemy ships. The result was nothing short of spectacular. The torpedoes slammed through the outer decks of the ships' dorsal command towers. There was a muffled shockwave from within the two ships that blew out every single reinforced window in their dorsal casemates. The command towers then began smoking so intensely, they became completely concealed behind a veil of thick, oily fog. Without gravity, this billowed outwards and engulfed the vanguard of the task force as well.

The unintentional smoke screen obscured a shuttle escaping through a charred hangar of one of the enemy destroyers. It fled towards the planet below with what few TIE fighters had been able to launch with it. Maximilian was hunched over the hologram projector trying to get a read on the battle amongst the oily smoke when the communications officer walked up to him. "Sir, I'm getting transmissions from the enemy destroyers. Their crews are surrendering."

"Did you hear anything from Perth?" Maximilian asked. "No sir", the officer responded. "Last I checked, his signal was coming from one of the command towers. I don't think he survived." The task force had begun launching TIE reaper dropships to rescue survivors (on both sides) and to prevent the two enemy destroyers from going into a decaying orbit. The Ion engines of the medium sized craft also helped to whisk away the murky ink the two destroyers had given off in their death throes. "You seeing that", came the voice of McDonnah over the intercom. "A shuttle is fleeing to the surface, and Commodore, it sure as hell isn't one of ours."

"It appears Perth is the army's problem now. Maximilian growled. I'm leaving you in charge of securing those wrecks. Balao and I are going to convince the orbital stations that surrender is their best option. Once these tasks are done, the only thing left will be the cannon." At least from orbit, the battle of Ryloth had been won.

The Landing

(First Corps: Ignis Company: Onboard the assault ship Naboo)

The hull of the massive assault ship reverberated as it bore through the atmosphere. From a tiny porthole in the starboard side of the main launch bay, one army trooper watched the battle unfold above. His name was Hammond Blucher, a demolitions specialist for the newly formed Ignis Company. Hammond was one of the 20 demolition specialists selected for the company, as if it was a high honor. He had been a miner prior to enlisting in the army, and he knew his way around a stick of detonite powder. He had enlisted to get out of the back breaking labor and low pay of mining work, but he hadn't anticipated that his background would place him in some of the most dangerous combat scenarios in the galaxy.

After the destruction of Alderran, Hammond had deserted his position in the stormtrooper corps. All the death and carnage he had fought through felt meaningless after the Empire employed the Death Star. What good was a peace keeping force if the brass at the top were just going to blow up the planets they pacified? Hammond was able to go several months before an Imperial Security Bureau agent found him. That agent transferred him to Kuat, where the Empire of the Hand had done a fine job making one of their largest recruiting centers look like a functional military prison. That was how many of the soldiers joined. They became disillusioned with Palpatine and sought their own path. In most cases, the Empire of the Hand found them before the real ISB or rebels did. Entire companies had been reported as destroyed when fighting against rebel guerrillas when, in actuality, they had defected to Admiral Thrawn's side. Veers, the general leading the groundside operations for this battle had been reported dead for two years after an "assasination" by rebels on the planet Sullust. No such assasination ever took place.

This came with drawbacks, of course. Armies had to be formed from a collection of mismatched imperial units, and they never seemed to have enough time, or equipment to be properly retrained. The Empire of the Hand didn't have the huge parade grounds or battle simulators that the academies on Corescont and Carida offered. There was also only so much fuel and ammo that Kuat could offer the mechanized infantry before the loyalist governors started to take notice. That being said, most of the troops making up the assault force were veterans. Out of the 120,000 troopers who would be landing on Ryloth, less than 10,000 were novices. Ignis Company certainly wasn't the exception. There were veterans from the Hoth campaign and the Unification Wars. There were men and women who had dug trenches at Mimban alongside others who had fought through the dark jungles of Kashyyyk. In comparison, the loyalist stormtroopers seemed like a glorified police force, preying on (and often losing to) poorly armed civilians. Hammond could hear the landing gears extending from the hull. Once the assault ships unloaded, there would be a reckoning on this planet the likes of which had not been seen in decades.

The sky took on a blue tint, indicating they were firmly within the atmosphere. From his porthole in the dorsal-aft section of the ship, Hammond could see the two massive engine plumes angle downwards as the assault ship began shedding momentum. "Strike force pheta, report to your landing craft", sounded the ship's speakers through the crew quarters. A tall, broad shouldered man in a black gas mask walked up next to Hammond and chuckled before speaking. "Hear that? The special forces are taking off. En route to pretend they can do our jobs for us. I'm laying down 20 credits saying they all are going to find a way to get themselves killed."

"20 more credits says we will find them in a prison cell once we take the cannon", Hammond responded. The two firmly shook hands on the wager. The man in the gas mask went by the name Jug. He was one of the heavy weapons guys in Hammond's squad. If there was something that Hammond had to deconstruct, Jug was there to cover his back. He had gotten that nickname for two main reasons. One, his actual name was too exotic and Outer rim sounding for most of the squad to pronounce. Two, he had an irregular habit of wearing his gear, including his gas mask, wherever he went. He claimed that "space ship air" could make you sick if you breathed it too long. It was his one and only eccentricity. He was otherwise a dependable soldier and well liked.

Along the opposite wall, on the other side of Ignis company's designated staging quarters, was a dark skinned, heavily scarred woman. She was attempting to fill her armored backpack with more medical supplies than it had been designed to carry. Her name was Samantha, though most people called her Sunny. She was anything but. She had been a medic with the first waves of infantry in the Hoth campaign. Most of her squad had been wounded by a friendly fire incident with an ATST, and it had shattered her snow trooper armor. Despite her personal injuries, She had used all her medical supplies on her squadmates, and had attempted to retreat back to the forward operating base for more. While she was getting the supplies, an officer accused her of deserting. She managed to convince him otherwise, but the interaction had cost too much time. She had come back to a squad of frozen bodies, and her damaged suit had caused massive harm to her as well. She may have once been beautiful, but frostbite had taken away her lips, leaving a thin, haunting smile of scar tissue that stood out on her brown face. She was reclusive, but there were few other medics Hammond would rather have by his side.

Their sergeant was a tall, gaunt man named Cartwright. Rumors had spread not only amongst Hammond's squad, but through the entirety of Ignis Company that Cartwright had once been a high ranking officer who defended the military installation at Scariff when the rebels stole the first death star plans. In a desperate effort to kill the rebels, imperial high command had glassed half of Scariff with the very weapon Cartwright had been fighting to safeguard. The rebels got away with their objective while hundreds of thousands of imperial lives were lost. For nothing. This changed Cartwright from a loyal officer of the Emperor to someone whose life mission had become exacting justice on the Loyalist brass who had betrayed him. When Ignis Company was still being put together, he had been serving as an interrogator within the Empire of the Hand's main compound on Kuat. Rather than being assigned to this operation, Cartwright had volunteered.

There were ten members of Hammond's squad, but he interacted with these four the most, and had grown to trust them more than the others. To be perfectly honest, he knew very few people on the ship other than this group. The three assault ships carried three corps, a single corps, 40,000 men each. Under the overall command of general Veers, the three corps would encircle and capture the loyalist hyper velocity cannon before spreading outwards and pacifying pockets of resistance. If they took the cannon, commodore Maximilian would be able to assist them with orbital firepower.

Far above Hammond and Jug, a handful of TIE reapers were ascending through the assault ship's dorsal hangar bay. "Good luck you superior bastards!" Jug called out from behind his gas mask. "We have a lot of money riding on you!" This shouting caught the attention of Sunny, who slung her backpack and started across towards the two. "Look alive", Hammond said as she closed in. Jug shifted from foot to foot nervously. Sunny approached with her gastly grin and looked through the vision ports of Jug's gas mask. "Is there anything I can help you with Samantha?" Jug asked timidly. "40 credits", she said.

"What?"

"40 credits says we will meet them in the heart of the enemy compound… alive and fighting."

"There's no take backs", said Hammond, giving Jug a brief respite from Sunny's gaze. "Agreed", she said, sticking out her hand. Hammond grasped it and thought he caught genuine smile lines creased into the edges of Sunny's eyes.

They stood there in silence for several minutes. Both Hammond and Jug had already prepped their equipment. Hammond's heavy blast armor was set in a pile, alongside his ordnance and defusing equipment. Jug already wore his grey, reinforced trench coat over his black metal body armor. He also had his DL-15 machine blaster strapped over his shoulder. Sunny had finally given up on fitting the last package of bandages into her pack and began rereading their mission parameters. Meanwhile, A Gozonti cruiser was pulled up on a vast service elevator and six chicken-like ATSTs were being secured underneath the craft for quick transport to the battlefield. "We're probably going to be launched in the same wave as them", Hammond said, pointing to the transport vessel and the two legged walkers. "That follows", Sunny said without looking up from her data pad. "We are going to be responsible for taking out the light anti aircraft weaponry within the mountain range surrounding the facility. First company will then be able to land more heavy armor to press the attack. Jug looked at the other two assault ships from the porthole before talking again. "I don't get it", he said. This invasion force is nearly as large as what was left to secure Kuat, and it's all for just an outer rim gun installation. I don't mind, but I think we might be a bit overprepared.``

"You are underestimating the value of this target", came a voice from the direction of the ATSTs. It was Cartwright, which prompted the three to get up and salute. "This cannon might be our best chance to counter Palpatine's planet killer at Endor. Are you familiar with the Eckhart's Ladder effect?" The three didn't answer, so Cartwright kept talking. "A vessel that enters hyperspace cannot impact objects in real space unless there is a catastrophic, and immensely unpredictable, failure in its hyperdrive. This is why the rebel alliance doesn't just bombard us with cheap hyperspace capable transport ships, thank the stars. However, each hyperdrive has a very brief moment where it transitions between real space and hyperspace. It has been said that if one carefully marries different hyperdrives to each other, a ship can theoretically prolong its time spent in this transitional reality. This is called climbing Eckhart's Ladder. It was deemed impossible."

"Until this cannon came into the picture?" Hammond interjected.

"Precisely. An object traveling at hyper velocity while still carrying the mass of its real space counterpart could do catastrophic damage to any space faring vessel, even a Death Star. We are overly prepared for this mission because it could mean the difference between having a defense against a planet killer or suffering mightily at its hands."

Hammond silently wondered how much of that intel Cartwright had wrung out of loyalist commanders. The other seven members of the squad had assembled upon seeing the sergeant, and a TIE reaper dropship was being lowered from an overhead crane for their departure. "You have all been given mission briefs, so I'll make this short", Cartwright said. First Corps have been assigned with capturing the southern approach to the cannon. Second and Third Corps will push in from the garrison to the East and the starport to the north. There is a river that flows to the west of the cannon which acts as a natural barrier. We hope the loyalist storm troopers will surrender once they realize they're trapped. As for Ignis company, we will be amongst the first waves to hit the ground. Our goal is to take out the fortified AA guns surrounding the facility. Then, the assault ships can send heavy armor to drive through the outer defenses. Questions can be asked in the dropship. It's time for us to go."

The blue hue of the TIE reaper's engines burned into life as the pilot raised the landing ramp. Ten other TIE reapers were being loaded in adjacent hangars, carrying the remainder of Ignis company. The Gozonti heavy transport behind them began ascending through the massive dorsal hangars, along with two other armor carriers. Then, a red light turned on in the squad's dropship, and it darted out a smaller opening in the side of the assault ship.

Once outside, the squad could see that the massive assault ship was in the process of landing. It's ten landing gears were spread out like a sprawled spider, and hundreds of different vessels were pouring from its collection of hangar bays. Further off to the northeast and northwest, the assault ships carrying the second and third Corps were doing the same. The TIE Reapers carrying Ignis company flew together in staggered lines of five ships each. Two other companies were carried to their right in a similar fashion. The Gozonti transports followed shortly behind them, the legs of Their ATSTs curled up as the ships hurtled through the air. "We must be going at max speed", Hammond thought to himself as he watched the arid landscape pass by at a ridiculous pace. The dropships were going as low as possible to conceal themselves from the anti air emplacements around the cannon. This was dangerous work since the pilots had to bank and weave through the canyons and ravines of Ryloth's alien landscape. They passed over a farm village of Twi'leks who appeared little more than colorful dots on the ground. "Sergeant, should we expect any trouble from the locals?" Hammond shouted over the whine of the engines. "Not for our purposes", Cartwright shouted back. "Perth spent years beating the local population into submission. Those with any fight left in them are either in the ground or off world. Keep your distance if you can though. I doubt they are overly welcoming of strangers."

The pilot turned on his intercom and quickly leaned back from his control console. "We are nearly in range of their AA mounts. I am going to set you fellas down in this ravine. Good luck." The reaper hummed as it lowered itself into a dry creek bed near the foot of the ravine, and the other dropships carrying Ignis Company did the same. The front ramp opened and Hammond jumped out into the dry, sweltering air. The final member of their squad had only just hopped out when the Reaper turned around and zoomed back to the assault ship. The heavier Gozonti transports could not fit into the base of the ravine, so they remained hovering as the ATSTs were let loose. The six walkers hit the ground with enough force to cause the creek bed to fragment and splinter, but their long legs bent and absorbed the impact of the landings. The crews opened the top hatches and looked around, shaken but unharmed. They were met with cheers from Ignis company, who were glad they had not just lost their armor support. The ponderous Gozonti transport then ascended out of the ravine and began its return to the assault ships. "All right, squad, we're on the clock", said Cartwright.

The Foothills

(30 minutes since initial landing)

The company moved ahead as fast as the rocky terrain could enable. Twenty men (including Cartwright's squad) scouted ahead of the walkers while the 60 other troops took up the rear. They had been sticking to the cover of the ravine as long as they could, but were nearing the end of it. They stopped at the last outcropping of rock while the company figured out what to do. The dry creek bed made something of a sunken road that progressed in the northwestern direction towards a large river several miles away. This could provide some cover for the infantry, but not the walkers. The first loyalist AA gun was a mere 500 meters northeast from their current location. It was a quad barreled laser cannon that was aggressively swiveling back and forth as more landing ships came in. Around this emplacement were two TIE Reaper wrecks smoldering on the ground. Their cracked batteries had caused small grass fires, and the bodies of allied troops were stacked near both crashes. Cartwright looked through the scope of his rifle. "What do you see down there?" Jug whispered. "The loyalists have three manned anti-tank guns and at least four machine gun pits in front of that AA emplacement. The trench work is shoddy though. They must have dug it recently." Cartwright paused as he looked at the dropship crash sites. "Some of the bodies near that wreckage have blaster holes in their helmets. They were executed." Hammond ground his teeth and gently felt the pin of one of his thermal imploders. "Barbarians", he muttered to himself.

The company's captain descended from the lead walker and silently walked up behind Cartwright. He was younger than the sergeant, but wore a hideous burn mark down the left side of his neck, indicating he had seen combat before. "We can't stay here forever, Cartwright '', he said. "Have your squad advance down the creek bed and eliminate the leftmost AT gun crews. The walkers will then handle the AA gun and the remaining infantry." Cartwright nodded and gave a hand gesture telling the squad to form up on him. "Stay low and quiet until I give the word", he said.

The squad crawled down the creek bed as silently as they could. This was not an easy task considering some of them were wearing more than 40 pounds of armor and equipment. They had covered 200 meters like this until they came up behind a dead tree and several wilting bushes. Jug propped his machine blaster through one of the bushes while Cartwright checked on the enemy position with his scope. They had outflanked the anti tank guns and were now peering at the stormtroopers manning them from the side. The machine gun pits were spread out and could open fire on their position, but the guards remained focused on the mouth of the ravine. "They were expecting us all right", Jug mumbled as he adjusted his gas mask to get a better view down his sights. "Not that it's going to do them much good."

"Ok, I want our machine blasters to take out the two closest AT crews", Cartwright said quietly. He adjusted the scope on his rifle. "I'll keep the last gun occupied. Everyone else stays in cover. We don't need to burn through our ammunition yet. Ready? Fire!"

Jug and several other heavy troopers let their automatic blasters loose, and the torrent of red plasma bolts rushed over to the unsuspecting anti tank crews. Their white armor was burnt black and melted away as they fell over. The ammunition for the rear AT gun was struck by a green blast from Cartwright's sniper rifle and the conical cannon was thrown into the air with so much force that the AA gun tracked it for several seconds. Hammond got out a short range transmitter and contacted the armor back at the ravine. "The anti tank guns are crewless. You are free to engage."

The stormtroopers in the machine gun nests returned fire. Jug had barely time to roll back into the creek bed as the enemy fire cut through the bush. Cartwright swore as a stray bolt made contact with the end of his rifle, melting it. "Get back to cover", he said, and the remainder of the heavy troopers ducked down. The lip of the creek was being worn away by the heavy blaster fire, and the red bolts were cutting ever closer to their heads.

Hammond grinned to himself. Behind the jackhammer sound of the machine gun pits, he could hear the hydraulic whine of the ATSTs moving into position. He unfasted a trench periscope from his equipment belt and looked over the smoldering edge of the creek. Two of the walkers had cleared the ravine. The walker on the right leveled its twin blaster cannons and rotary grenade launcher at the machine gun pits. The one on the left launched an armor piercing missile at the AA gun. The stormtroopers manning the machine guns disintegrated as the cannon bolts and grenades made contact, scattering white armor fragments all the way to the creek bed. Hammond could hear a Loyalist commander redirecting men to the anti tank cannons, but he was too late. The missile from the other walker followed a parabolic curve to the base of the AA cannon. It penetrated through the ground, reaching the cannon's ammunition before exploding. This caused a scarlet plume of fire to erupt from the cannon. The concrete entrances around the AA gun also began smoking, and blackened, smoking storm troopers sprinted out before collapsing on the ground. The other four walkers stepped out from the ravine, followed by the rest of Ignis company. This prompted the surviving stormtroopers to throw away their weapons and put their hands up.

The AA gun had been so badly scorched by the hellfire that it more closely resembled a public art display than an instrument of war. Five members of the squad stood watch over the disarmed stormtroopers as Jug and Hammond observed the thick trail of smoke from the explosion. It traveled up over the rocky ravine, and joined at least a dozen other smoke columns in the eastward breeze. Hammond was attempting to count how many AA mounts 1st Corps had destroyed when his eye caught something else dominating the skyline. Poking over the edge of the surrounding foothills was the hyper velocity cannon. Only the barrel could be seen over the hills, but it was still massive. Hammond guessed that it spanned thousands of feet from end to end. It was angled roughly 30* from vertical, facing eastwards. The barrel bore a striking resemblance to a metal smokestack for an oil refinery. If it were not for the plethora of radiators and heat conduits steaming as the cannon prepped to fire, one could mistake it as just a normal imperial refinery. "Cartwright, How much longer do we have before that cannon can fire on the fleet?!" Hammond shouted to his sergeant. "Eighteen hours and counting", Cartwright shouted back. "Gather the squad. The captain wants us"

Ignis company gathered around their captain as the ATSTs patrolled further ahead. 'There has been a complication regarding our mission', The captain began. "A loyalist star destroyer was able to launch several hundred miles north of here. Almost all of the operational enemy landing craft have rallied behind it. Friendly bomber squadrons are engaging these forces as we speak, but they are coming our way fast. We have to assume any ground troops the destroyer and her escorts are carrying will be in marching range of the cannon, whether or not the ships crash land. The good news is the second and third corps will be the ones to deal with this. The bad news is this means the first corps may have to take the cannon with only minimal assistance. The company mumbled to itself. Without reinforcements from the north and east, the cannon's defenders would be able to concentrate more of their firepower on Ignis and her sister companies. "There is some actual good news though", the captain continued. "Most of the initial strikes went as planned. We will be able to receive super heavy armor from the Naboo before we join the main assault on the cannon. It should be here any moment."

As if on cue, three Gozonti transports soared over the crest of the ravine and descended into the clearing. One of the Gozontis was ladened with two ATAT walkers. The other two, which were flying incredibly sluggishly, were carrying a single juggernaut assault tank secured by a network of heavy support cables. The reinforcements touched down near the creek bed to distance themselves from the burning AA gun and the ravine walls. The two ATATs were let go immediately, and the Gozonti transport lumbered off back to the assault ship. Five men got out of the juggernaut and detached the cables from between the juggernaut's 50 ton tires. Soon, the outlines of the other two Gozontis were disappearing over the ravine as well.

One of the figures that had freed the juggernaut strode up to Ignis company. He was escorted by two blue clad death troopers and wore the reinforced communication suit of command personnel. Hammond recognized who it was and gave a salute, as did the rest of Ignis company. "General Veers", the captain began, "It is an honor to have you here in person." The general looked over Ignis company and the surrounding landscape. A twisting scar going down his face seemed to dance and writhe as it was illuminated by the fire nearby. "Well done on taking this landing zone, captain", the general said. "How much time do your men need to prepare before moving out?"

"We are ready now", the captain responded. Veers' eyes scanned the foothills to the north and came to rest on the great spire that dominated the horizon. "Very well, the general said. "I want your company to escort our walkers through those foothills (pointing to the Northeast). Get as close to the cannon as you can without engaging, and make sure the loyalists are not preparing a counterattack. I will meet you down there with more reinforcements (looks at watch) in one hour. I Want to gather as much of the First Corps as possible before storming the base. Good luck."

Hammond wiped his brow as he advanced through the parched landscape of the foothills. The trees around them were rock solid and leafless, having endured the arid landscape around them for time uncounted. To his left, a towering ATAT crushed one of the trees, shattering it into fragments that stuck to the ground with a dark green sap. Cartwright stooped down and picked up one of the fragments. He stuck his finger into the sap, smelt it, then liked it. "These trees have a high water content, '' he said to the squad. If you get separated from the assault force and your rations run dry, cut off a branch and suck on it."

"Probably just gave himself an intestinal parasite", Jug muttered from Hammond's right. Further ahead, the scout walkers formed the vanguard with several other squads. Cartwright's men stayed by the two ATATs to scan for land mines or camouflaged saboteurs that the forward forces may have missed. Thus far, they had found nothing.

They began passing through an old garrison town. The sandstone houses were all abandoned, and a mine bored into the side of one of the hills had partially collapsed. The town may have once had a wall made of the same rock solid wood they had encountered earlier, but it had fallen out of repair. There were also several watchtowers that had collapsed in on themselves. Hammond felt someone tap his shoulder and turned his head. It was Sunny. "There's something big buried on the side of the road a couple houses ahead. You should take a look at it".

Hammond raised a hand in sight of the lead ATAT and it stopped walking. "Bomb threat?" Cartwright asked as Hammond walked ahead with his blast helmet on. "Could be a torpedo warhead", Hammond answered. "I'm seeing a thermal display coming from a large pit up ahead." Cartwright nodded and raised his sniper rifle (freshly replaced) to cover the numerous glassless windows of the village. Sunny and Jug did the same with their weapons. Hammond knelt next to the thermal signature, and used his helmet to zoom in on the ground around it. Without any grass growing, it was easy to decipher where the dirt had been disturbed. It was a rectangle roughly eight feet by sixteen feet. Hammond adjusted his visor so it could give him a better view of the heat signature underneath. There was only one reading and Hammond recognized it as handheld thermal detonators.

"A small explosive may prime a larger one", Hammond reminded himself as he started sifting through the dirt. He had activated a small ion field generator in his backpack, so the explosive could not be detonated remotely. Still, he had to be careful not to activate a tripwire. The men behind the ATATs were getting restless, but they could not afford to advance their heavy armor until this bomb threat was cleared. Hammond's fingers started to make contact with objects underneath the dirt; it felt soft and rubbery underneath Hammond's padded gloves. Perhaps it was some sort of organic explosive that was primed by the hand held grenade. That was when Hammond saw a face.

Hammond wanted to recoil at the sight of it, but held himself in check. Any rapid movements could set off the bomb. The face was gaunt and rotting. Its cheeks had sunken into its mouth and several teeth protruded from the sparse skin. Its eyelids were open, but the eyes had long been rotten away. Below those lifeless sockets was a perfectly round hole burnt through the neck. The body had remnants of hair surrounding an entry wound melted in the skull. It was a human corpse. Sweating heavily, Hammond brushed away more dirt until he came to the body's waist. He uncovered more hands, arms, and legs as he dug. Unlike the first body, these were all Twi'lek. "This is a bloody mass grave!" Hammond thought to himself as he continued his work.

Hammond finally unearthed the section that had been displayed on his visor. It was a small bag that had been hanging from the human's belt. He gently unzipped it and shone a flashlight inside. His visor illuminated the outline of explosives tucked into a hidden pouch in the corner of the bag. Hammond used his fingers to search for an opening. He felt a hair thin sliver in the side of the bag and gently pulled on it. There were three thermal detonators sitting within the compartment, all dark and rusted. Hammond softly picked them up one by one and set them further away from the road. He pushed back the dirt he had dug up and gave an all clear signal to the walkers.

"What was that?" Cartwright asked as Hammond rejoined the formation. "A grave", Hammond responded. "I think the local garrison of stormtroopers found a rebel saboteur and killed him… along with the rest of this village. They didn't even give the rebel a thorough search though. He was buried with an extra set of detonators." Cartwright scowled. "This is why our empire is collapsing", he growled. Parasites like these stormtroopers terrorize populations, alienate entire worlds, and then fail at any basic military integrity. If you capture any stormtrooper officers today, make an effort to bring them back to me unspoiled. I have several new interrogation methods I'd like to try.

The formation continued its way down from the foothills without incident. The enemy picket positions and checkpoints had all been abandoned in a hurry. "They're falling back to stronger defenses", Hammond thought. "They must have some idea of how many of us are out here by now. Cartwright raised a hand and the squad stopped, as did the ATATs behind them. The vanguard had halted ahead of them and now stood silently within the forested cover of two small hills. This was the last cover they would have. Ahead was a circular valley roughly 20 miles across. The hills and mountains looped around to the east and north, and the river they had seen earlier traveled northwards from the west. In the center of this valley was the cannon.

Hammond now understood why three corps had originally been deployed to take this location. It was some of the best defenses he had ever seen. The river had been dammed in segments as it traveled through the valley. The flood waters had mixed in with the clay and sand surrounding the cannon to create a blood red swamp that spanned the entire valley floor. Three elevated roads stretched from the base. One went south, one northeast, and one due north. Every two miles, a pair of heavy turbolaser cannons rose up out of the muck on either side of the roads. Five pairs of cannons defended the ten miles of road to the base, fifteen cannons total in the valley. They were all trained towards the sky, and smoking wreckage of TIE fighters and dropships partly buried in the swamp indicated they had been effective in keeping the landing force at a distance. Between each pair of cannons, steel spikes had been raised diagonally off the road in a V formation. If a transport hit these at any notable speed, it would either be impaled or careen off into the swamp.

The base itself was surrounded by a thick durasteel wall. Pillboxes had been built along the wall's perimeter to defend the three main gates. Above them, the tiny white outlines of stormtroopers were preparing anti infantry weapons, still dwarfed by the massive hyper velocity cannon erected behind the walls. Hammond got out his binoculars to get a better look. He saw a light blue shimmer rise perpendicular to the road about 500 feet from the final pair of turbolasers

It was a one way shield. They would not be able to do damage to the base itself until they had crossed the exposed swampland and elevated road. "You're telling me we have less than 18 hours to take that?!" Jug exclaimed as he climbed up the hill next to Hammond. "Yeah, and We're the first wave", Hammond responded.

The Swamp

Ignis company waited behind the cover of the foothills for nearly an hour. During this time, the other elements of the first Corps arrived en masse. The captain had briefed them that Ignis would join up with six other companies to take the left flank through the swamp. They would go around the main southbound road, do what damage they could to the infantry guarding the turbolaser cannons, and destroy the pillboxes on the left side of the main south gate. With any luck, they would be able to keep their walker support. There were some in the company who disliked this plan of action greatly, Jug being the chieftest amongst them. He had asked Sunny if there were any parasites on Ryloth that might dwell in swamplands like this, and she had made the blunt reply, "Yes, yes there are". The going would be slow through the muck and the wounded would be especially at risk. The upside was that they would have a great deal more cover than the poor souls who would have to take the main road. They also had the liberty of spreading out, something that Sunny was especially happy about.

"The men on the road are going to be slaughtered", she said as she double checked her medical supplies. "The only cover up there are the vehicle obstacles, and that won't help much. The turbolaser cannons along the road excel at taking out massed infantry". Hammond didn't say anything, but he knew she was speaking from experience. "The shield only extends 500 feet from the main walls", Hammond said. If we get enough artillery in these foothills, we might be able to destroy the cannons before they become much of a problem. We just have to get it in range." He was looking at a group of three SPG walkers that had recently arrived with another company. They had the legs of the normal ATSTs, but lacked a cabin. Instead, their "head" was dominated by a single massive mortar. Exposed crewmembers were sitting around this cannon passing a flask of something.

Jug gazed out at the pillboxes through his blaster's scope. The muddied, concrete structures had large, central slits housing huge anti tank cannons and many smaller peripheral slits with machine blasters. "Do you guys think the spec ops troops got into the base?" Jug asked as he eyed the battlefield warily. Hammond laughed and Sunny remained quiet. "Take a look at the dropship wreckage near the turbolasers", Hammond said. "Those are probably our spec ops friends."

"Do you see any bodies?" Sunny asked. "No, just wreckage", Jug responded as he swiveled his scope to get a better view. Sunny climbed up to get a view for herself before responding. "If they were dead, the stormtroopers would have displayed them. I think they are still alive."

A rumbling started to come over the hills behind them, prompting the company to raise their guns and swivel around. The rectangular outline of a juggernaut tank then rolled between two of the nearby hills, chewing up the dirt path as it went through. It was the same juggernaut general Veers had arrived in. The sky over the southern mountains had been absolutely filled with armor and infantry transports ever since the perimeter AA cannons had been eliminated. If the first Corps was fully deployed, there would be nearly 40,000 men making this charge, not counting their numerous supporting armor.

"Our orders are unchanged", Cartwright said as he walked back from the juggernaut. We are going over the top in twenty minutes. Hammond felt his stomach twist into a little ball. The base had been sitting there ominously for the last hour, but the certainty of Cartwright's statement had allowed Hammond's repressed fear to fully materialize. They had twenty minutes before they marched through the jaws of death. They may have been veterans, but it still was a terrifying prospect.

Jug slid down from his position overlooking the base and joined the rest of the squad. "Well, this is the closest I've ever been to soiling my uniform before a battle. I'd rather we had something to distract our minds instead of sitting here in quiet dread. The large soldier unfastened a strap around his neck and took off his gas mask. He had a short black beard, black hair, and green eyes. It had been one of the few times Hammond had seen the man's face. He then took a deep breath and started singing in a deep but gentle voice.

"Farewell my love farewell my friend

Farewell my mother and father

I venture off to seas unknown

Then venture ever farther

A whale! A whale! A whalefish cries!

A whalefish of the ocean.

A whale! A whale! A whalefish cries!

Upon the rolling water."

Jug's voice attracted the rest of Ignis company, and drew the eyes of the other companies along the foothills. It flowed over the solemn outlines of the ATSTs and ATATs, and rolled across the swamp, whispering through the humm of the base's shield. The stormtroopers on the walls stopped momentarily to listen before their officers forced them back to work. It was a song about a fisherman who set out to sea to hunt a great whale. After years of sailing, the fisherman caught his quarry and plotted a chart back home. However, he had sailed so hard and so far that he had lost his storesand had to eat the whale on the return trip. By the time he got home, he had nothing to show for himself except for whale bones. He felt defeated, as if his errand had been fruitless, but his town (more aged than when he left) embraced him anyway. It ended with the village constructing a mighty new longboat from the bones he had brought back. Hammond had heard neither the tune nor the song before and imagined an oceanic outer rim world far away from the fighting. At length, Jug finished the song and put his gas mask back on.

"Ignis company, prepare for deployment!" The captain shouted. The 250 men and women of the company trudged towards the forward most foothill. They were amongst the first companies to arrive on the designated approach. Stationed around these foothills was a group of 13,000 men and women, roughly a third of the first Corps. Hammond counted eight ATATs and at least twelve ATSTs. The artillery walkers were being bolted to the ground and the gun crews were elevating the cannons to engage the first line of enemy turbolasers . "Five minutes!" The captain shouted over the overarching clamor. Hammond triple checked his gear. He had three thermal imploders, four detonite charges, and four thermal detonators. He had three extra magazines for his E-11 rifle, and Jug had two more in case he ran out. Hammond didn't know what Sunny had in her bag, but he knew she was well prepared. Hammond put on his blast proof helmet, turned off his safety, and held his breath. This was it.

"PHOOOM, PHOOOM, PHOOOM." The Artillery walkers launched their first volley of the battle. Purple globs of energy followed a floaty arc over the foothills and out of Hammond's View. There was silence for several seconds then the ear splitting shriek of melting steel. Hammond saw a smoke cloud come up from the valley and knew the artillery had struck home. A cheer came from the companies at the front line and spread all the way back to the reserve. Sergeant Cartwright watched the captain intensely, as did every other member of Ignis company. The captain looked down from his ATST and shouted down to the troops, " Remember to spread out on the field and to give cover for the demolition teams on the road! Twenty seconds!" The artillery had just elevated their cannons enough to engage the second line of defenses when the whistle blew.

The troopers surged forwards out of cover like a wave engulfing a stone on the shore. ATSTs cut massive gouges into the ground as they strode over the foothills and advanced. The heavy footfalls of the ATATs kicked up behind Hammond, and the pilots blared their warhorns. One company crossed over the foothill, then two. Hammond heard a hailstorm of blaster bolts being fired and already could pick out the shrikes of wounded men. "Already?!" He thought to himself. His legs carried him forwards with his squad as if they had an agency of their own. He was ten meters from the crest, then five, then…

He slid down the slope of the hill and into the open. To the right, the first pair of roadside turbolasers burned. Allied demolition crews had already advanced to remove the road obstacles while ATSTs stepped over them to push the assault down the middle. Charred stormtroopers were strewn across this first checkpoint. Another arc of purple energy projectiles traced overhead and bore into the second pair of roadside turbolasers. Both cannons glew white hot around and toppled over. They had not gotten a chance to fire. Hammond felt the ground go soft as he crossed into the amber swamp. There was plenty of cover on their approach in the form of dead bushes and thick leafless trees, but very little protection for the larger walkers. This was demonstrated when one of the enemy's pillbox cannons swiveled in its bearing and fired a long bolt of green energy at an exposed ATST. The bolt penetrated the walker's head and the entire cockpit exploded with a green flame. The legs of the vehicle fell forwards mid stride.

The remaining ATSTs crouched as close to the ground as the engineering would enable and continued forwards. Another green bolt zoomed from the base and missed one of the walkers (that had just changed configuration). The bolt continued its path over the infantry's heads and blackened the side of one of the hills beyond. The infantry had now advanced to the second destroyed set of cannons and hunkered down in what soggy cover they could find. In front of them, the ATSTs had launched smoke grenades to obscure their movements from the pillboxes. The heavy ATATs behind them had just reached the swamp, and a nasty "SCHOOOP" could be heard across the battlefield each time a heavy walker pulled its leg from the red muck. They had stopped advancing.

On Hammond's immediate right was the remains of one of the roadside turbolasers. Astonishingly, a squad of stormtroopers had survived the bombardment more or less in tact. Several of the stormtroopers were carrying handheld rockets and had their eyes glued to the advancing armor. Hammond shouted to Jug, who set up his bipod and swiveled to face the new threat. He was too late. A stormtrooper managed to launch a rocket at an advancing ATST. The rocket flew straight into the cockpit and an explosion blew out each of the walker's windows. The walker remained standing, but burned so furiously that the metal around the cabin glowed red. The rocket trooper did not have time to appreciate his kill. Jug sent a short burst of plasma into the trooper's waist and then fanned over the rest of the enemy squad. The stormtroopers had been so focused on the walkers that Jug was able to take out half the squad. Hammond primed one of his thermal detonators and threw it into a recess in the wreckage the stormtroopers were using as cover. He heard the explosion and waited for return fire. The wreckage remained silent.

More ATSTs moved up the road, finishing off what enemy infantry remained. However, they had extended beyond the concealment of the smokescreen. Another green bolt dashed from a pillbox towards the road. It punctured one of the walkers at the knee and sent the vehicle tumbling into the swamp some distance ahead of Hammond's squad. "Secure that wreckage!" Cartwright shouted over the roar of combat. The squad climbed from ditch to muddy ditch, through the smokescreen until they reached the motionless walker. There were two pilots sitting behind the wreck by the time the squad had reached it.

Sunny immediately set to work on the two. The pilot on the left said he was fine, but Sunny felt the man's forearm and said (in a very matter of fact tone), "Your humerus is shattered. Try to hold still while I check your copilot." Sunny looked over the other pilot and found nothing beyond temporary bruising. While she worked, Cartwright monitored the progress of the siege from a small holographic projector nailed into the ground. "Those pillbox cannons are doing more damage to our scout walkers than we anticipated. This means command is sending in the ATATs before the ATSTs can press the attack. They believe the heavier walkers can withstand the firepower from those cannons long enough to get within the base's shield. However, the ATATs will need their own shields angled full frontal in order to remain undamaged against such firepower. If the ATATs get hit with any anti tank weaponry from the sides or rear, they might go down." He paused and read a short blip on the map. "Our artillery (pointing back to the foothills) is repositioning under the cover of the smoke screen. They should be within range of the remaining roadside cannons soon. We will hold our position until then."

Other elements of Ignis company had also advanced beyond the cover of the smokescreen and had started to entrench in what solid earth they could find. Some simply laid down in the red muck amongst the vegetation. Hammond considered himself lucky. Cartwright's squad had found solid cover behind the ATST wreck and had no need to hunker down and get soaked in the disgusting terrain. Nonetheless, Cartwright had them dig foxholes on either side and behind the ATST in case they were required to repulse a counterattack. In the end, this had been a good idea.

Ten minutes passed since the assault had grinded to a halt. Cartwright expected the next volley of artillery fire to come within the next five minutes or sooner, but he was uncertain of when the allied ATATs would emerge from the smoke screen. Hammond had occupied himself during this lapse in combat by helping the two pilots remove ordnance from the fallen walker. The healthy pilot and Hammond fished explosives and plasma batteries from the wreck while the wounded pilot (arm now firmly in a cast) organized the ammo types into piles that the infantry could use in their recoilless rifles and grenade launchers. They had stored the munitions in a deep foxhole 30 feet from the walker. That way, the entire squad would not be taken out if one of the munitions somehow ignited. Hammond was setting a crate full of concussion grenades into the foxhole when Cartwright called him from the front.

"The Gates are opening", said Cartwright as Hammond slid into a foxhole next to the walker. To his right, roughly two hundred feet behind, were the remains of the second set of wrecked turbolasers. Elements of another friendly company had occupied this wreckage and also had their eyes focused ahead. The two heavy durasteel gates of the base squealed open on muddied hinges. Even though it was miles away, Hammond heard (or more felt) what emerged before actually seeing it. A tremor reverberated through the ground with every footfall of the mechanical terror that walked from the gates. It was nearly double the height of a normal ATAT and substantially heavier. Its forearms were thick with reinforced armor and its cockpit appeared to be as large as an entire ATST. There was a cylindrical dish on the thing's hunched back that was slowly elevating upwards as the walker advanced. Massive radiators extended from the thing's cabin, giving the appearance of fangs. The walker continued marching forwards until it stood just outside the base's shield. "Any idea what that machine is?" Hammond asked both Jug and Cartwright. "No idea", said Jug as Cartwright kept his eyes pressed to his binoculars. "There's more coming", he said.

Other figures emerged from the base as the monstrous walker advanced to the fifth and final pair of turbolasers. The new figures were jet black and vaguely humanoid. They were a head taller than a man, but moved as if they weighed nothing. The figures jumped from the elevated road into the swamp, steadied themselves on the uneven terrain, and began marching forwards. They did all this in perfect unison. Hammond had taken out his binoculars and now saw the humanoids in full, terrifying detail. They had black, reflective armor covering their heads, chest, legs, and shoulders. They were top heavy with massive arms dangling from equally massive shoulders. The legs were not as wide, but were still tall and immensely dense. The heads were the most frightening part. They had massive optical sensors on either side of a gas filter, giving the appearance of monstrous carrion flies. The figures also did not turn their heads, as they seemed to be bolted to a metal, rectangular spine that stretched down their backs. Hammond could now see cylindrical blaster cannons extending from the things' forearms. "Stars save us", exclaimed Sunny as she looked through her binoculars. The things started sprinting towards them.

"Fire in short bursts!" Cartwright shouted as the squad opened fire. "Switch to full automatic when they get closer. Jug and the other heavy troopers did just that. They held the trigger of their machine blasters for several seconds, adjusted aim, then repeated. It didn't seem to be much use. Hundreds of plasma bolts straddled the black figures as they closed in, and Hammond saw dozens of shots hit their mark. The plasma splashed off the armor like rain drops hitting a windshield at high speed. The other squads of Ignis company also opened fire, along with the companies occupying the road and further off in the swamp. Hammond saw one thing's head get slammed out of socket by a green sniper bolt, yet it kept limping forwards with its head dangling from a cable of wires, oozing blood red oil. Out of the dozens that had been deployed on this side of the battlefield, this had been the only casualty.

Hammond heard another sound over the repetitive beat of blaster bolts. Out of context, he would have described it as a slide whistle. The real source was much more concerning. The dish on the back of the enemy walker had started to accumulate bright red arcs of energy around its central spire. These tendrils of energy focused into a single point reminiscent of a blood drop. The last of the energy tendrils were sucked into this focal point and the ball of energy was released. The ball flared over their heads like a falling comet, washing the battlefield in a red light. It landed in the road where allied troops had taken cover then radiated outwards in a wave of energy . The substance washed through cover, and disintegrated men and weapons alike. Hamond grabbed Jug and pulled him to the other side of the ATST wreckage before the wave of energy poured over the side of the road and boiled the ground next to them. "Bloody Hell!" Jug gasped. "Thanks Hammond."

The second checkpoint of the elevated road had been fully melted down into a puddle of red hot steel and ash. This left a 20 foot gash that would have to be repaired before reinforcements could cross. Ahead, the enemy walker stood motionless. The outlines of stormtroopers could be seen cycling through power cells around the cannon on the walker's back. A more immediate concern was upon them though. The dark figures were now within 100 feet of their position. Three of the figures had turned off and started advancing straight for the ATST wreckage. "Switch to full auto!" Cartwright ordered. "Aim for the head!" The heavy troopers adjusted their machine blasters and tore into the dark machines. The things' black arms immediately rose to protect their face. However, the armor along the arms started to heat under the concentrated fire and began slowly dripping to the ground. This exposed hydraulic lines, and wiring that fizzled and cracked under the heat, yet the things still advanced. The figure on the left (the one that had received the least fire) pulled its arm away from its face, crouched, and pointed both arms at a foxhole to the left of Hammond and Jug. A torrent of thick green turbolaser fire shot from the thing's forearms, and embedded into two of the squad's heavy troopers. One trooper was hit in the face and dropped immediately. The other trooper's magazine was struck, and his blaster exploded into his chest. Cartwright returned fire with a single sniper bolt into the thing's eye. The black golem staggered, then fell.

Jug had emptied his magazine into one of the two remaining things, and had succeeded in melting one of its arms into a useless peg, but it had not sustained enough damage to break off its advance. Any second, it would be standing over their foxhole. "We need to fall back!" Hammond shouted to Jug. He primed a thermal imploder and chucked it at the two figures. The figure that Jug had been firing on swatted at the imploder with its melted arm like a baseball player swatting at a ball. Luckily, Hammond had set the grenade to detonate on impact. He felt a pressure build up in his ears and the battlefield went silent as a dome of orange energy radiated out from the grenade. It engulfed the two figures, before retracting with a massive thermobaric force. The two figures no longer had their original black color, but were now hulks of silver, deformed steel. The one that had swatted at the grenaded struggled to push itself forwards using only one operable leg. The other got back on its twisted legs and hobbled towards them.

Jug and Hammond had just climbed into the second foxhole when the thing reached the ATST wreckage. Two especially careless (or heroic?) squadmates rushed into the freshly vacated foxhole and now realized why it had been emptied. They opened fire at the standing thing's misshapen head and were able to melt off its last remaining armor, exposing a hideous splotch of human flesh and wires. Before it could be killed, the thing plunged down on the first soldier head with its club-like arm. The trooper's helmet went flying off along with a considerable portion of his skull. The thing then backhanded the other trooper and pinned him against the side of the foxhole. The second trooper's chest drooped forwards to his feet as he fell to join his comrade. The thing adjusted its arm to point straight at Jug. Despite all the damage it had withstood, it still had a single operating cannon. Both Hammond and Jug ducked into cover. "CRASH!" A crater blew itself into the front of the foxhole, and superheated fragments of rock and soil embedded in their armor. Before the thing could fire again, Jug popped up through the crater it had created, and fired a stream of plasma bolts into its exposed, semi-human face. As Jug did this, a trickle of blood traveled from where he laid propped against his blaster. At this range, the thing did not have time to react. It fell onto its back, and a delicate trail of smoke emanated from its burning eyes and mouth. Jug then shot at the disabled one. Without arms to shield itself, the second abomination's face went up in smoke as well.

"That's one way to do it, Jug!" Hammond exclaimed, patting his friend on the back. There was no response. Instead, Jug reached out and grasped Hammond's hand. Hammond now saw why. While Hammond's heavy blast armor had protected him from the shrapnel, Jug had not been so lucky. A slender, jagged stone had embedded below Jug's gasmask and had sunk itself into his neck. "SUNNY!" Hammond howled. Jug's grip was getting tighter, and he was no longer moving. Sunny emerged from the foxhole with the other injured heavy trooper. Her light body armor was stained red and she carried her open medical bag in hand. She slid into Hammond's foxhole, and took off Jug's gas mask. Jug's eyes were open and the edge of his mouth was bent upwards in a blood wreathed smile. His hand was still in Hammond's. Sunny got out a handheld respirator before pulling out the stone. She then inserted several needle thin cauterizers, and reset the respirator in place. Her watery eyes betrayed the futility of this action. Jug had died before she reached the foxhole.

"The enemy walker is preparing to fire again! We have to move! NOW!" Cartwright shouted from the other side of the ATST wreckage. Hammond grabbed Jug's body underneath the arms and hauled it from the foxhole while the rest of the squad (and the two pilots) ran off to the left, away from the road. Hammond heard a desperate cry come from Sunny as he left his foxhole. "Hammond! This one is still alive!" She was pointing at the heavy trooper who's magazine had detonated under him. His chest plate was badly fractured and he was burnt to the point of being unrecognizable, but he was still breathing. Sunny had put a stretcher under the man, but it required two people to handle. Hammond slung Jug over his shoulders and struggled to pick up his end of the stretcher. Meanwhile, the slide whistle sound of the enemy walker was building up again. "He's dead Hammond!" Sunny exclaimed as he struggled to lift the combined weight of his friend and the stretcher. Nonetheless, Hammond heaved and the stretcher went up.

They hobbled over the uneven, soggy ground as the second red comet was launched from the enemy walker. They were close to cover. Another squad from Ignis company had found a stretch of solid ground and had managed to dig a short stretch of chest high trenches. They just had to reach it. Hammond felt the impact of the second blast travel through the ground, felt heat radiating behind him and biting into the back of his neck. He saw dread etched onto Sunny's face as she saw what came behind him. They were so close.

Hammond slid into the trench (still carrying the stretcher) and tucked himself into cover behind a bend in the trench work. Jug slid lifelessly to the ground beside him. A wave of heat washed over them, but they had escaped the kill zone of the projectile. Sunny collapsed next to the stretcher and held her head for several seconds, but she quickly gathered herself and set to work on the wounded soldier. Another medic from the new squad crouched beside Sunny and helped her clean the man's wounds. Hammond looked back. The ATST wreckage was gone, along with its ordnance. In its place was a puddle of slag surrounded by a black splotch of charred earth. The red slime of the swamp was already flowing into this depression, covering what had once been a solid defensive position.

Out of the ten original members of Cartwright's squad, six remained (including the wounded soldier). Hammond stared at the ground next to Jug's boot. He didn't want to look up and see his friend's face again. Those eyes. They had been so still when Sunny had pulled off the gas mask. Jug had seen nothing and heard nothing. The reality settled over Hammond and hit him like a rocket. He was dead. Hammond forced himself to look up. He lifted his dirt encrusted glove and closed his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry", he muttered to Jug's deaf ears.

Hammond turned his head to look down the trench. This squad had been hit less hard than his own, but they were not without casualty. There was a man on the far end of the trench who had been skewered by one of the robotic abominations. He wore the same thick blast armor as Hammond, and had pressed his entire satchel of explosives against the thing's neck. The resulting explosion had disintegrated the thing's head and its entire back had ripped open. Yet, it still had been able to send its arm through the trooper's chest plate and kill him.

"We weren't briefed about this!" The sergeant of the new squad exclaimed to no one in particular. He cowered below the edge of the trench. Cartwright knelt next to the frightened sergeant and scanned the battlefield for more hostiles. "If command knew these things existed, they would have told us", he said. "We still have a job to do. We will do right by them (pointing at the bodies of Jug and the unknown demolition specialist)". A familiar streak of purple then crested over the smokescreen. The artillery had finally gotten in range. The purple energy shells plunged into the third set of turbolaser cannons, and another volley went straight for the fourth pair. Hulking, steel war machines stepped from the smoke screen. The friendly ATATs had arrived.

"HMMMMMMMMMM!" The warhorns of four friendly ATATs sounded from behind the two squads. Many of the smaller ATST also emerged, though they stuck within the shields of the larger walkers. Every single allied war machine turned and launched a barrage of hellfire at the enemy walker. Far off to the right, on the other side of the road, four more ATATs (with their own escort of ATSTs) emerged through the smoke and did the same. The enemy walker's shield went from clear to a light purple as it became overtaxed. The walker was now retreating back to the protection of the base's shield, but it was incredibly slow marching in reverse. The color of its shield then went from light purple, to red, then disappeared entirely. The barrage from the friendly walkers connected with the target. One of the enemy's chin mounted radiators was struck, causing the two blaster cannons under the cabin to pop out of socket in a burst of slag. Another heavy blaster bolt struck the dish on the walker's back, wreathing its entire backside in flame. The rear legs of the enemy walker were going through the base's shield, but its entire frontside was now blackened and smoking from the barrage. Its front left leg no longer functioned, and created a massive gash in the road as it limped back like a beaten dog. The windows in its cabin blew inwards, and its head began smoking furiously. The walker finally pulled itself into the protection of the shield, gored by the combined cannon fire within an inch of its mechanical life. The momentum of the battle had just switched.

The enemy pillbox cannons opened fire again, casting long green bolts low over the battlefield. One of these bolts struck the nearest ATAT. The walker's shield peeled away the outer energy layers of the bolt , causing the plasma within to release early. This caused a blob of green plasma to wreath the hull of the walker, but it did nothing more than blacken the armor. Still, the walker's shield had been tinted purple and it badly fluctuated around the impact site. The allied ATATs could endure the enemy fire from the pillbox cannons for now, but anything more would take them down. "We still have a job to do!" Shouted Cartwright to the two squads. "We need to take out the last set of turbolasers, and make sure enemy infantry doesn't get a chance to damage our armor. Do we still have communication with the rest of Ignis company?"

As it turned out, they didn't need to. Wave after wave of heavily armed troopers clad in muddy armor charged from the smoke screen. At the head of this charge was the captain. He had demounted his ATST (in fact it had been shot out from under him) and now carried a rotary grenade launcher that had been attached to the vehicle's cabin. He brandished the weapon and shouted, "Forwards men of Ignis company! Forwards for your comrades! Forwards for your families! Forwards for the Empire!" Hammond took his spare E-11 magazines from Jug's body and briefly laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. He then vaulted over the side of the trench.

The Gate

The First Corps advanced through the swampland in a tide of black infantry and silver vehicles. The few robotic things that had been left were now in full retreat. The captain spotted one of the abominations running some 60 meters away and sent two grenades arcing toward its back. The impact knocked the thing to the ground, and the entire assembly of charging infantry fired into its fractured backside. For good measure, An ATAT obliterated what remained of the thing with a cannon blast. Still, many units of the robotic infantry were able to slip behind the protection of the shield and retreat past the base's gates.

In place of the mechanical horrors, two companies of stormtroopers emerged from the front gate. They spread out and took up defensive positions near their damaged walker and the last pair of turbolasers. "They know they can't hold the walls", Hammond thought to himself. "They're sending the expendable troops to stall us." The friendly walkers had saved the infantry when they exited the smokescreen, but were now at great risk. Already, two of the walkers had their shields at critical. If the roadside turbolasers engaged them, the shields would drop. Ignis had been the closest company to the road on the left. Since the road had been damaged, stalling the center assault force, they were now responsible for taking out the last turbolaser on the left. Way behind them, near the smoldering remains of the second checkpoint, engineers worked to repair the gap in the road. Other companies had taken Ignis's example and were charging as well. They were now within a mile of the base, and everything on or near the walls opened fire.

Death descended upon them in every shade, shape, and size. A light mortar round struck several meters to Hammond's right, and he could feel the shrapnel battering his armor. Heavy repeating blasters on the top of the walls sent torrents of red plasma bolts over their heads, and the stormtroopers sent literal waves of blaster fire into them. Naturally, the men of Ignis company scattered and dove for cover. From his position behind a fallen tree, Cartwright shouted for Sunny to prepare a smoke grenade. The medic from the other squad caught on and prepped one as well. The two disk-like grenades were flung simultaneously, and bounced off the base's shield before embedding in the soft ground. They casted up a cloud of grey smoke, and this wafted in through the shield and obscured the view from the turbolaser and the wall. "Take point, Hammond!" Cartwright shouted as the advance resumed.

With the benefit of hindsight, the infantry may have been better off not advancing in force as it did. The repeating guns on the wall, accompanied by the hundreds of stormtroopers resulted in the chargers taking heavy casualties. Hammond saw a squad far off to the left storm a pillbox cannon with a satchel of explosives. They had barely crossed the shield when an automatic blaster on top of the wall shredded apart their bodies and detonated the explosives prematurely. Enemy snipers on top of the wall and scattered amongst the final set of turbolasers were also picking men off. Two individuals from Hammond's squad were struck with green sniper bolts. One bolt went through a trooper's neck, the other completely melted a trooper's knee. Sunny grabbed the trooper that was still alive by his backpack and pulled him into a crater. She motioned for the squad to keep going without her.

The turbolaser was now firing on the most damaged friendly walker, and the effects were immediate. Combined with the fire from the heavy pillbox cannons, the turbolaser succeeded in peeling away the walker's shield. The next shot from the pillbox cannon badly warped the walker's leg and sent it hurtling to the ground. A tidal wave of red mush was casted up where the cabin plunged into the swamp.

The squad passed through the base's shield as silently as they could. Ahead, the outline of the turbolaser was revealed through the smoke each time it fired. Hammond pulled out a single shot ordnance launcher from his pack and tried to estimate how far the turbolaser was from them. It couldn't be more than 150 meters, barely shorter than the max length of his ordnance launcher. He removed a thermal imploder from his pack and began screwing on an armor piercing cap to one of its ends. Meanwhile, the remnants of the two squads set up a defensive perimeter within the boundary of the smoke screen. They were in the ditch next to the road, so they couldn't directly see the stormtroopers, but they could hear hundreds of frantic voices barking orders at each other immediately above them. Once Hammond sent a grenade away, they would have to be ready to repel a significantly larger force until the other elements of Ignis company caught up. Hammond set the capped thermal imploder into the ordnance launcher then slid in a cylinder of smokeless propellant through a breach in the back. He assumed he would need a 43* elevation to reach the turbolaser, and his helmet display notified him that there was no wind. His surviving squadmates casted nervous glances towards him as he stared down his sights.

"FWIPP!" The cylindrical grenade flew from the launcher and left a hole in the smoke screen as it vaulted towards the turbolaser. Even while the ordnance was airborne, Hammond opened the breach of his launcher to slide in another imploder. With shaking hands, he lifted the other imploder to the barrel. "BOUNNUNG!" The first imploder detonated, and Hammond dropped the second imploder into the mud. "Damn it!" He exclaimed. His hands had been shaking so bad that the shock wave from the explosion had caused him to lose his grip. He looked up briefly to see if he had been successful in destroying the turbolaser. He hadn't.

The turbolaser stood beside a crater of melted steel and concrete. Its base had been warped by the thermal imploder, but it was still plenty operational. It had stopped firing on the walkers and was rapidly swiveling towards the smoke screen. Hammond didn't even have time to fish his last thermal imploder from the mud before the turbolaser opened fire. Two laser bolts penetrated the mound of mud Hammond had been kneeling on. The blast sent him spiraling through the air, through the shield, and he landed hard on his back 30 feet away. Had it not been for the swamp muck cushioning his fall, he probably would have broken his spine. Hammond no longer felt his ordnance launcher in his hand and looked over to see if it had landed close by. He could barely see through his mud smeared helmet, but he found the launcher next to his arm (more through touch than anything else). He could tell from simply feeling the barrel that it was broken beyond repair. The breach no longer closed, and it was too clogged with mud to be of use anyway. Movement in Hammond's periphery vision snapped him back to full attention. Someone was approaching him, but he couldn't see who. He began squirming in the mud in an effort to get his sidearm free.

"You flew pretty far just now", Sunny said as she grabbed the collar of Hammond's armor and pulled him from the muck. With his arms free, Hammond wiped his visor clean and looked around. The turbolaser tower was still blindly firing into the smoke screen, and several detachments of stormtroopers were converging on the road near the position of his squad. He then looked down. His leg pads had been scorched pitch black. For some miracle, the blast that had scored his armor did not travel far enough to detonate the numerous explosives he still wore around his belt. He had been immensely, indescribably lucky. He hoped that luck would hold.

"I have to help them", Hammond said as he began walking back towards the smoke screen, priming a thermal detonator. Sunny kept her hand on his armor and pulled him back. "Not before I look at you", she said. While Sunny was checking Hammond for injuries, something happened that surprised both of them. It started as a disruption near the very tip of the hyper velocity cannon and spread towards the ground, like a massive bubble being popped. The base's shield had gone down. The stormtroopers defending the gates looked up in disbelief. The only defense that had been sparing them, and their artillery from the walkers had just gone out. There was a pause, then the Emperor's finest began to rout. Hundreds of the white clad troopers sprinted towards the gate, which was already starting to close. Meanwhile, a battlecry from tens of thousands of black clad army troopers went up across the road and swampland. The ATATs blared their warhorns once more, and now fired directly into the base. The pillbox cannons that had previously been invulnerable behind the shield now received their reckoning from the entirety of the assembled armor. Hundreds of missiles and plasma bolts melted the guns and shattered their concrete casings. The turbolaser that nearly killed Hammond was obliterated in an instant by an ATAT.

The hulking enemy walker attempted to defend itself with its one remaining blaster cannon, but its feet were shot out from underneath it. The walker that had stood so imposing moments ago fell on its side into the swamp. Both Hammond and Sunny watched this play out in mesmerized silence. You're a lucky man, Hammond, Sunny said, finishing her examination. "You only have some minor bruising". She looked back up at the shieldless base. "You owe me 40 credits by the way,'' she said with no small amount of amusement in her voice. They both ran to rejoin the squad.

"You are the luckiest trooper I have ever seen," Cartwright said as he lifted Hammond onto the elevated road. This wasn't an exaggeration. The two squads had been decimated by the turbolaser, and those who remained were covered in mud and had heavily dented armor. There was now only Cartwright, Sunny, Hammond, and the other squad's medic. Hammond felt his stomach drop. That had been his fault. If he had hit the turbolaser, he could have prevented those deaths. Cartwright seemed to read Hammond's expression. "You were close", he said. "There's nothing for it now".

To their right, the wreck of the enemy walker smoked in a shallow, muddy grave. Behind them, other friendly squads were hoisting themselves onto the road. Ignis company as a whole did not fare particularly well during the charge. Hammond had seen many squads meet fates just as bad as his. However, there were still enough men left in the company to secure the section of road nearest the gate. The fact that Ignis had been the ones to first reach the gate would probably sit very well with the captain.

Hammond looked up at the steel walls with his blaster held at the ready. The top of the wall had been practically abandoned when the shield went down. The stormtroopers who didn't flee from the walls were either incinerated by the ATATs and ATSTs or were taken out by rifle fire. Some of the stragglers knelt with their hands behind their heads and surrendered. Now, it was disturbingly quiet. Some men were searching the wreckage of the enemy walker. They had not found any survivors. On the other side of the road, Cartwright grasped the hand of the captain and hauled him up out of the swamp. The man had lost his grenade launcher and was thoroughly caked with mud, but he looked to be in good spirits nonetheless. "By the time we're done here", He said, "You all will be getting medallions of honor and RR time." He paused and checked a data tab. "Command is sending in a juggernaut to break open the gate. We hold this position until then, no matter what the loyalists send at us."

The men of Ignis company stood in tense silence. Almost all of them had run into the enemy's robotic infantry, and they knew more of those terrifying things were waiting for them on the other side of the gate. The ATATs had stopped marching several hundred feet from the walls. More army troopers descended from the sides of these vehicles on heavy cable elevators, along with fresh ammo and medical supplies. Meanwhile, The ATSTs made rounds around the south side of the base and took out the remaining pillbox cannons. It looked like a victory, but didn't feel like one. Contributing to this feeling of uneasiness was the fact that they only had seven more hours until the fleet was in range of the hyper velocity cannon. They may have taken the walls, but the massive cannon still stood above them, silent and imposing.

"Any news about the enemy destroyer to the north?" Cartwright asked the captain. "It crash landed 50 miles from here," The Captain responded. If it were not for the mountains, we would be able to see it. The Second and Third Corps prevented it from landing any closer, and bombers from the fleet have been harassing infantry breaking out from the wreckage. It is no longer as large a threat as we thought it was. The other Corps should be able to join us within two or three hours, not that we need the help any more." The captain was right. With the shields down, the base was defenseless. It would only be a matter of time before the loyalists inside realized their situation was hopeless. At least, that was what Hammond wished the loyalists were thinking.

A familiar rumble prompted the men of Ignis company to look back down the elevated road. In the distance, General Veer's juggernaut rolled towards them at full power. "Clear the road!" The captain shouted and the troopers quickly obliged. The Juggernaut crossed over a hastily crafted steel bridge set up by the engineers and passed the third pair of burning turbolasers. Two rectangular missile launchers extended from the juggernaut's sides and fired a cluster of super heavy missiles at the gate. Each missile burrowed into the hinges of the gate before exploding. This cracked the frame around the structure, but did not open it. This was when the more detailed features of the juggernaut came into view. Fastened below the cabin was a massive battering ram that caused the front suspension to ride low. Huge columns of thermal exhaust billowed out the top of the vehicle, indicating it was running at full power. The Juggernaut passed between the fourth set of cannons, and Hammond dimmed the noise level in his helmet in preparation for the impact. The head of the battering ram made contact with the doors, and the two huge durasteel slabs flew off their hinges. The path was open, and Ignis company charged through with the rest of the First Corps right behind them.

Priced Explanations

(Present: The Monday after the breaking yards explosion)

(Chandrila Capitol Precinct)

A low, brick building stands on one end of a city square. Compared to the other towering structures of the Capital, it was fairly small. A short, green skinned woman is at the door of this building, wearing a light officer's jacket adorned with a thin powder of snow. In her hands, she carries a stack of cardboard packages too large for herself.

Naveen Lucrizia struggled to balance a stack of doughnuts that went well above her head. Every time she reached out for the cold metal handle of the precinct's doors, the boxes would start tilting, and she would have to let the handle go to steady them. A thin layer of snow had fallen during the night, preventing her from setting the boxes on the sidewalk. Naveen had been working on the door for half a minute, and felt somewhat embarrassed.

This added to her overall sense of uselessness. Naveen had not been allowed onto the breaking yards site, and still wasn't able to go on patrols by herself. Adding to this, she was always supervised, be it by Captain Ghaghikh Lghghagh or by his chief Lieutenant. Naveen was not dumb. She had aced the written word and multiple choice aspects of the police academy tests, and she could speak several of the more common languages of New Republic space. Her problem was that she folded like a wet napkin under pressure, and that was what people always saw.

Naveen caught the door handle at long last, and rushed into the precinct before she lost her grip on the doughnuts. An officer named Smitheee was stationed behind a blast proof security window between the outer and inner doors. He looked up at naveen and smiled. "Need any help carrying those Naveen?" He asked. His voice was carried through a transmitter in the window. "I'm ok", Naveen responded, adjusting her grip as she fished in her pocket for her ID. "I'll need to scan those boxes. Just a second." Smitheee said as a low power laser grid wove up and down across Naveen. "OK, you're good to go." Smitheee pressed a button and the magnetic locks on the inner doors deactivated.

"Do you want one of these before the rest of the precinct gets to them?" Naveen asked before she went through the door. Smitheee opened the blast proof window slightly and Naveen set down the top box in front of him. He opened it, and rubbed his chin as he looked over the massive selection of doughnuts Naveen had picked out. He ignored the more exotic varieties that Naveeen had selected for the non-humanoid officers and settled on a simple glazed doughnut. "Daring today aren't we?" Naveen teased as he pulled the doughnut out of the box. "Thanks Naveen", Smithee responded as he closed the window. "Now get in before I have to scan you again."

Naveen walked into the precinct and set the doughnuts next to a coffee machine in the rec room. She did this every Monday as a way to thank the more experienced officers who had been showing her the ropes. When she looked out the precinct window, her eyes came to rest on the breaking yards across the bay. A StarHawk battleship hovered over the site, looking like a massive nautical anchor suspended high in the air. It was oriented perpendicular to the ground and its bow mounted tractor beam scooped large clumps of mechanical wreckage and dead fish from the water. Naveen closed the shades and set her hands on the rec room table. A massive migraine went over her and she closed her eyes tight waiting for it to pass. It felt like waves of "wrongness" were radiating from the breaking yards and burrowing into her mind. She turned away and dismissed it as a stress related trigger.

Still, she had been suffering from these episodes more often. The other day, she had made a fool of herself at Wusha's Paradise, her favorite spa. She had struck up a conversation with a handsome male human who looked like he had been having just as bad a day as her. It had been a cordial exchange, but she suffered a brief, piercing migraine when she shook the man's hand. This had also been accompanied by a mental image that still festered behind Naveen's eyes. She had seen Wusha's Paradise burn as a deep, bloodcurdling scream tore at her ears. It sounded as if something big had been killed in a drawn out, agonizing way. She had left the spa shortly after…. "It's just stress, nothing more", Naveen whispered to herself.

She crossed the rec room and had just swiped her time card when the Lieutenant rounded the corner. She was an imposing eight foot tall ithorian with arms and legs nearly as wide as Naveen's waist. However, the lieutenant had kind eyes at the top of her tall, flat head, and was generally more accepting of Naveen's lackluster performance than the other officers. "Morning Naveen", the lieutenant said through her translator. Her real voice was a low garble coming from multiple mouths on the side of her head. "Morning", Naveen responded energetically (trying to hide how tired she felt), "There's doughnuts in the rec room".

"Thank you. Hey, do you want to sit in on an interrogation?" Naveen paused. "Is that allowed?" She asked. "The captain said it was", the Lieutenant responded, beckoning Naveen to follow her to the precinct's detention center. "Ghaghikh just started questioning this guy", said the lieutenant as they walked down a tall, brick hallway. "You haven't missed much yet, but this one is talkative. It'll be a good start for you. By the way, Ghaghikh said you encountered him before." The Lieutenant held her ID to a chip reader and a magnetically sealed door swung open. The two walked into a small, dim observation room parallel to an interrogation chamber. There were several officers already watching the interrogation behind a one way mirror. One of the officers was holding the leash of an enormous mastiff, which was happily gnawing on a ham bone. The dog's collar gave the name Daedalus. Naveen recognized the dog immediately and knew who was behind the glass.

Yafu Malik sat opposite of Ghaghikh Lghghagh. Unlike the first time Naveen had seen Yafu, he now looked comparably clean. He wore a brand new white T-shirt provided by the precinct, and had recently combed his black hair. He had shorts pulled up over his waist, so that the disgusting tubes jutting out of his pelvis were not exposed. He also did not show the same crazed demeanor that he had when they first met, but he definitely looked like he was going through withdrawals. At the moment, he was having a clear, articulate conversation with Ghaghikh. Naveen found a seat near the back of the room and listened in.

Ghaghikh was the first of the two Naveen heard. "This is the final warning Mr. Malik. I recommend you obtain a lawyer before saying anything else."

"Your recommendation is noted and disregarded", Yafu responded. "I want to talk to you directly, without the time consumption involved with the standard avenues of this legal process." Ghaghikh shifted in his chair before speaking. "It is my duty to notify you that anything you say in this room can be used against you.."

"Yes, Yes, I know, and I admit to being a drug abuser and lower rung drug dealer. More importantly, I admit to being present at the breaking yards the night of the explosion." Naveen leaned forwards. This was big news, really big news. Yafu took a short breath before continuing. "I was there with two of my colleagues and a third individual we hired as a guide." It was evident that Ghaghikh was paying close attention. His pupils narrowed to slits as he scanned Yafu's face for signs of dishonesty. If he noticed anything, he didn't mention it. "I am here to make a deal with you", Yafu continued. "My associates are also dealers, but they hold no tangible position within the underworld. They make excellent drugs, but that is the extent of their wrongdoings. I want to barter for their protection."

Ghaghikh scratched his scaly chin with one of his claws. "This isn't Corellia, Mr. Malik. You cannot pay off our precinct."

"I'm not using money, I'm using information." There was a pause. "Consider me interested, but only just", Ghaghikh said. " I will not make any promises until I hear more."

"I became concerned with this guide my associates acquired for our last job"

"That job being?"

"Removing an imperial grade stasis chamber from the breaking yards."

"So I presume your associates are in the Flufffff egg trade?" Yafu went silent. There was a hint of shock on his face for Ghaghikh having correctly guessed that on the turn of a dime. Ghaghikh cracked a toothy grin. He didn't press the matter. Yafu's reaction was an answer in itself. "Please go on", Ghaghikh said in a calm voice. Yafu seemed more guarded now, but he continued his story.

"I've done regrettable things with my life. However, I will never fall to the point where I betray the New Republic. That is the reason why I am here today. I believe my associates unknowingly hired an Imperial spy."

"That's a heavy accusation." Ghaghikh said, getting up from his chair. "Give me a moment." The captain exited the interrogation chamber and entered the observation room. He made sure the door closed behind him before addressing the officers present there. "What this man said, and is going to say, does not leave this room without my approval. We don't want to frighten the public any more than it already is. I need to know that you understand this." The officers all nodded their heads. Ghaghikh's eyes rested on Naveen longer than the other officers before he went back into the interrogation room.

"What are your demands for the information?" Ghaghikh said as he sat back down. "To start, I want this precinct to adopt Daedalus", Yafu responded.

"You want us to have your dog?"

"I don't have much time left in this world, and I don't want Daedalus to be put down in a grimy pound. He's a good boy. I'm sure he'll take police training well. As for my second request, I want a safety net for my associates. I've already sent them a letter saying what to do if they get caught, they are to send a message to my transmitter, which you should still have in storage. I want you to be ready for this call, and send them free once you confirm their identity."

"You are asking a lot from us", Ghaghikh sighed.

"It is worth your time though. I only have these two requests, and I already have a downpayment… of sorts… ready to make our deal more alluring."

"What is your down payment?"

"The moment I realized our third party was a spy,.."

"Alleged spy, yes."

"... I snagged some possessions off her Juggernaut."

Ghaghikh held up a hand and seemed to become more interested. "Do you know what model juggernaut she had and where she got it from?"

"Yes, I do. However, we will have to come to terms before I tell you." Ghaghikh was struggling to conceal his excitement. He had caught signs on Yafu's face indicating he was leaving out sections of the story, but this testimony was now starting to line up with what Ghaghikh had seen the night of the breaking yard explosion. A Juggernaut had slipped under the waves shortly before the destroyer had gone up. "Consider me very interested Mr. Malik, but I need to know what else you are offering before we can come to terms". Yafu nodded. "I can give you the Imp's name, her scent, her blaster, and the manufacturer of her juggernaut. I also have hidden two heavily incriminating pieces of evidence against her to hold in reserve in case you go back on your word to pardon my associates."

"Give me everything besides your reserved evidence now, and we'll have ourselves a deal." Yafu stuck out his hand, and Ghaghik shook it. "Let's start with the basics", Yafu began. "Her name is Vivian, She's a blue twi'lek with black splotches on her tails and a crescent shaped birthmark on her chin. She rented her juggernaut from Mauritius Heavy Equipment, and I have two of her blasters that are probably still covered in her scent.

The Throne of Mutsa Wusha

It was 11:00 P.M. in Wusha's Paradise, and the strip mall was a shapeless blob of dark buildings and empty asphalt. Jaeleno had just pulled into the back garage of the spa like he had the first time he made a delivery. This time, however, he felt overwhelming concern. The garage door slammed shut behind the delivery speeder and the ceiling lit up with three parallel rows of work lights. This illuminated a semicircle of armed spa workers who closed in around the speeder. Jaeleno unrolled the driver's side window. "Would you prefer me to stay in the vehicle or get out during this delivery?" He asked. "We want you to exit it slowly, with your hands up", said the Quarren masseuse who had worked on Jaeleno earlier. She now held an ornate coral pistol that was pointing at Jaeleno.

"OK, I can see there's a problem", Jaeleno said as he got out of the speeder, "Though I am not yet sure what it is." Abercrombie exited the speeder on his side and used both hands to close the door. He looked around in dread at the assembly around them. He didn't need Jaeleno's gut feeling to know something was wrong, and he hated that they had escaped the fires of the breaking yard only to fall back into the Jaws of Mutsa's minions. He walked around the car to Jaeleno's side with his hands up.

"You deceived us, Jaeleno Sobayaki", said the Quarren. "You said that you had the facilities to supply Wusha's Paradise with enough Flufff eggs to outcompete our competitors. You said that your deal would be beneficial to us both."

"And it will be!" Jaeleno cut in (prompting the guards to raise their blasters). This delivery contains the finest assortment of Flufff eggs I have ever made, and I went to great lengths to ensure this." There were several guards removing the tarp from the speeder's trunk. They seemed impressed by the number of drugs that were piled up underneath. "Follow me", The Quarren said lifelessly. The guards lowered their weapons while Jaeleno and Abercrombie went deeper into Wusha's Paradise.

A section of the garage flooring was lifted up by silent hydraulic pistons, revealing a carved jade staircase with ruby railings. The stairs were wide enough for two delivery speeders to drive through abreast of each other, and it descended in a spiral far below the floor. There were hundreds of incredibly short steps that made the stairs feel more like a ramp. "This must be meant to accommodate Mutsa Wusha", Abercrombie thought to himself. Jaeleno (with Abercrombie now on his shoulder) was forced down these stairs by a swift prod of a blaster barrel. The Quarren girl was in front of them, two guards were on either side of them, and two watched from the rear. All the others had stayed upstairs to unpackage the shipment. Jaeleno was half expecting to hear medieval sounds of torture emanate from below as he continued along the spiraling staircase, but what he actually heard surprised him. There was music, and lots of it. It was robotic, fast paced music that Jaeleno recognized from block parties he had sold his merchandise at before. He preferred the deep lyrics and voice of Eric Johnson to this new stuff, but at least it meant that they were being dragged to some public place rather than a torture chamber. A dance hall or rave pit perhaps? Mutsa wouldn't be able to punish them that severely if it would offset the vibe of the party.

They turned the last corner of the staircase and Jaeleno was proven wrong. The room had similar dimensions to Jaeleno's machine shed back on the farm (that is to say, it was large), and it was illuminated by pink and red strobe lights. It had jade walls that formed an arched roof and a ruby floor that reflected the strobelights. There were many padded couches and recliners strewn throughout the room where people snorted lines of spice off credit cards and each other. There were crowded bar counters lining the walls to the left and right, and there were fighting pits as well … lots of them. These pits were small (only fitting two people) and hemispherical. They were made of the same jade material as the walls and were covered by a loose mesh of chains. Around the edge of these pits were massive crowds of stoned, drunk, and otherwise unwholesome individuals who were cheering loudly and betting credits. Jaeleno and Abercrombie passed close by one of the pits and saw a wookie being beaten savagely by an old B-2 Battle Droid. They passed another pit that had people at the edge paying to enter. The moment Abercrombie saw the people entering take off their clothes, he averted his eyes. Suspended from the ceiling were cages containing Twi'lek dancers. There were also statues hanging from hair thin strings. The statues displayed humanoids participating in different physical activities, ranging from dancing, to fighting, to more intimate activities. Jaeleno recognized the sheen of carbonite on the suspended artworks and feared they weren't just statues. "What kind of place is this?" Abercrombie said without bothering to activate his translator.

A vast velvet bed was erected at the end of the room upon which Mutsa Wusha was coiled. Behind her was a large rectangular aquarium with just as many sentient species held within as animals. There were also crystal letters laid into the floor at the foot of the bed. They shone with the same pink, neon light as the Wusha's Paradise sign in the parking lot above. The letters spelt, "Pride, Pleasure, Providence". Mutsa Wusha's eyes were closed at the moment. She held a large amphibian twice the size of Abercrombie between her jaws. With a jerk of her arm, she ripped the amphibian's head off and tossed the carcass into the fish tank (where the inhabitants fought for it). She opened her eyelids, and her fluorescent, magenta eyes rolled in their sockets to look at the Jaeleno and Abercrombie.

"You two darlings climb up and we'll have ourselves a chat", Mutsa wusha said as she patted the bed with her tail. Abercrombie looked at Jaeleno's face from the perch on his shoulder. There was no hint of confidence in the man, and Abercrombie himself had no plan at the moment. They were completely at the mercy of the Hutt. Jaeleno walked forwards with a pace he thought wouldn't be too brazen or too cowardly, and sat at the edge of the bed as far away from Mutsa Wusha as he could without seeming rude. A smell like bananas was casted from Mutsa Wusha's mucousy girth. This made Abercrombie sick to his stomach, but he dared not throw up on the crime lord's velvet throne. "Give us some silence would you?" Mutsa Wusha asked the quarren, who walked to a small control panel near the base of the bed and started pressing buttons. Suddenly, a cylindrical oil colored ray shield descended around the bed, and nearly cut off Jaeleno's toe where it made contact with the ground. The music and cheering around them died to a murmur though the people around them were still perfectly visible. Behind Mutsa wusha, the beings in the fish tank were still tearing into the corpse.

Mutsa Wusha spoke. "Drugs can be lost and remade, hardware can be broken and repaired, muscle (pointing to a fighting pit) can be expended and bought. When you live as I do, there is only one thing that matters in the end. Reputation. If I had not personally screened your last crate of Flufff eggs, I would have given some of my more important customers a substandard product. I would have made things right of course. I would have sent them two replacement shipments of higher quality products. It would have cost me money, but, as I've said, drugs can be lost and remade." Mutsa Wusha's pupils dilated and she slithered closer to the two terrified "farmers". "The damage that would have done to my reputation, on the other hand, would have been irreplaceable, and I blame that on YOU."

"Ohh Mutsa Wusha, our most benevolent employer", said Jaeleno. "I admit to this mistake, and I have been spending the last several weeks toiling to rectify it. Even now, There is a speeder full of the highest quality Sobayaki Farm Flufff eggs sitting in your garage. I went to great lengths to make sure none of my products fall below standard again."

"Or so I've heard", Mutsa Wusha said as the fissure of her mouth widened in a grin. "In fact, you two honeysuckles spared no expense getting your quality up! Tell me, how much did it cost to get your imperial friend on board with your latest scheme?"

Jaeleno and Abercrombie were absolutely dumbstruck. There was no possible way Mutsa Wusha knew this, and yet she did. "How did you come to know this, and how long have you known?" Jaeleno asked in astonishment. Mutsa Wusha gave a deep, gurgling chortle, "I wish I could say it was difficult", she said, "But it wasn't". She pointed behind Jaeleno. When the farmer turned around, he saw two familiar angler-fish eyes. Just beyond the ray shield was Kringea Oorlok.

Kringea's sickly orange carapace glittered as she walked through the ray shield. This took Jaeleno and Abercrombie by surprise, and they recoiled further up the bed. It was an act that no humanoid should be physically able to do. "You would do well to show off less frequently", chastened Mutsa Wusah. "But I suppose you earned this moment." Abercrombie remembered the night Kringea parted ways with Vivian. He remembered how she had thrown open the heavy barn doors like they were nothing. Now they watched as she forced her way through a ray shield that probably offered several tons of resistance. Clearly she was augmented, but Abercrombie didn't have any idea how.

"The 'Twi' cow tried to stick me with one of these", Kringea said in her buttery voice. She held up something that looked like a dead ant with a metallic sheen. "Some sort of spy droid", Kringea continued. "Should fetch a lot of credits to the right buyer, as would they (gesturing to Jaeleno and Abercrombie)." Jaeleno's fear was starting to give way to rage. He knew his cooking skills were good, probably the best in Chandrila. He was not going to be threatened by a mannerless druggie, no matter how powerful she was. "Ok, I'm going to venture off on a limb and suppose that Sobayaki Farms are still of use to you two (gesturing to Mutsa Wusha and Kringea). Otherwise, why are Abercrombie and I still alive?" Kringea hissed and parted her molting gums. "Calm yourself Kringea", said Mutsa Wusah gently, "Mr. Sobayaki speaks the truth." Mutsa Wusha grabbed another amphibian from a cauldron next to the bed, and shoved it in her mouth. The amphibian emitted a gut wrenching crunch as it was swallowed. "Jaeleno Sobayaki, you do create the best Flufff eggs I have ever sampled in my long years on this planet, but that is not what is keeping you alive right now. No, it's your imperial benefactor, Viveeen, which I am eager to obtain."

"It is actually pronounced 'Vivian', Mistress", Kringea said, but she went silent when the hutt casted a stern glare at her. "Anything and everything has a price, Jaeleno", said the hutt, "And I want to purchase your Vivian". Jaeleno pursed his lips as he came up with something to say . He settled on, "Why?"

"She would be a valuable asset to me, serving many, many different roles. I need not say more."

"But, if you have all of this (gesturing to the guards and obvious affluence around them) why don't you just take her yourself?"

"Huh, Huh, Huh. I am mighty indeed. I have enough men to storm your farm and claim what I want twenty times over. But, that would not be wise in this circumstance, for the New Republic and Empire of the Hand are mightier still. I would have to cover too many loose ends if I went after Vivian with more than a handful of hunters. That is why only you will track her down. Once You find her, I'll send Kringea to do the rest."

Jaeleno shook his head. "I'm not a fighter, Mutsa Wusha. I'm not even a great tracker. Vivian would be out of my league. I would be of no use to you."

"I suspect you know your own land like the back of your hand, and you have already demonstrated that you are resourceful. I find it unlikely that your Vivian has moved elsewhere, what with the whole planet on high alert. She's still within your grasp, I know it. Plus, I'm giving you good incentive." Mutsa Wusha shifted her glance to Kringea. "Fetch me the lizard monkey." Kringea launched onto the bed in a single bound and plucked Abercrombie from his perch on Jaeleno's shoulder. Abercrombie chirped and kicked in her grasp, but it was useless. "Unhand me you Cretin!" Abercrombie's translator blared, but Kringea simply tore out the battery and handed Abercrombie to Mutsa Wusha. Jaeleno moved to pry Abercrombie out of Mutsa Wusha's grasp, but Kringea lifted a blaster pistol to his chest. Mutsa Wusha chortled again.

Abercrombie felt the massive, slimy fingers of Mutsa Wusha tighten around his body, and the disgusting aroma of bananas washed over him. Abercrombie's stomach gave in, and he threw up over Mutsa Wusha's hand and across the bed. This prompted Mutsa Wusha to drop Abercrombie and Kringea moved in to catch him (making sure to avoid the puddle of puke). "Get this little wretch into a cage!" Mutsa Wusha boomed. Abercrombie glanced back at Jaeleno one last time before the rayshild was opened and Kringea whisked him away.

Jaeleno was left in shocked silence. They had taken his associate, and it was his fault. Abercrombie was right. Making the delivery in person had been a bad idea. "Now", Mutsa Wusha said, shaking the puke off her hand. "You are going to deliver me that imperial friend of yours or your other associate will come to a long, painful end. Get to work and leave my sight!" The ray shield completely dropped and Kringea gestured towards the exit with her pistol. Jaeleno looked around, but saw no sign of Abercrombie. This irritated Mutsa Wusha immensely. "If you stay here any longer, Jaeleno Sobyaki, I will start cutting pieces off of your associate to feed to my pets. Go!" Jaeleno turned from the massive bed and began pushing his way through the crowd towards the stairs. Kringea escorted him out with a lingering grin on her face.

A Change of Orders

(Hotel Bordeou, Chandrillain Capitol)

Vivian scrutinized the power outlet on the side of the hotel wall. It was an expensive model, designed to accommodate a wide variety of technologies brought by wealthy offworld tourists. Still, the new republic was on high alert after the breaking yards explosion, and Vivian worried that they may be monitoring power usage for long range hologram projectors. She used up the last of her credits to buy a new hologram lens and to secure a hotel room on the north side of the capitol. She wasn't far from the city center and could see sky scrapers illuminated outside her window. Further off, a MC80 cruiser was making rounds over the breaking yards as a StarHawk battleship moved the remains of the exploded destroyer into an undamaged dock.

Vivian closed the drapes to her hotel room and double checked that her door was locked. She had been spending the last two hours proofing the room for surveillance equipment, and she had finally become satisfied with her work. She took her chances, plugging in the hologram projector into the outlet and stood back from the lens. A New Republic televised auction came on, and Vivian examined the projected image. There were a pair of diamond earrings on display. This meant the hologram had been successfully recieved. "Call 05572499 to purchase this pair of exquisite Kaleesh earrings!" Chimed the projection. Vivian typed the passcode backwards into her projector and then quietly spoke to the projection. "Seven men set out to sea for renewed want of water. Never do they reach their goal and sail forever farther." The projection shimmered and reformed into the image of Admiral Maximilian de la Château. He looked around the room and back at Vivian. "Is it soundproof?" He asked quietly. "Yes", Vivian responded. "This is a business suite, it was built to be soundproof. I have also quadruple-checked the room and have found no security threats. We are alone."

"Good", Maximilian said, speaking a little louder. He seemed visibly relieved to see Vivian safe. "What have you found during your months in Chandrila?"

"Not as much as I would have liked. I was unable to penetrate the upper political workings of the capitol. Their security is too tight. However, I was able to insert myself into the Chandrilan drug trade and have attempted to infiltrate the corrupted underbelly of the capitol.

"That route sounds risky. Were you successful?"

Vivian clenched her teeth together. This had been the first mission in years in which she had failed her primary objective, and she knew failure on this mission could be especially perilous for the Empire of the Hand. "Not entirely sir", she said in a voice poorly concealing her nervousness. I believe I have blown my cover and I request immediate extraction."

"Blown your cover? How so? Are you safe?" The concern in Maximilian's voice seemed more geared for Vivian's welfare than for the failure of her mission.

"I'm safe", Vivian said. "However, I fear that I can no longer access the higher rungs of the capitol. I misjudged a potential ally. However, my efforts were not completely useless." Vivian pulled out the vescar flight recorder she had obtained from the star destroyer and held it up for Maximilian to see. "Agent Vivian, you did not fail in your mission", Maximilian said as he stared at the flight recorder. He walked out of view of the projector and an audible click could be heard. The light of the hologram went from blue to a barely visible red.

"Sorry about the low visibility", Maximilian said from offscreen. He walked back into view of the projection, but was visible only as a formless apparition. "The encoding we just added to this transmission tends to obscure visuals. I take it you obtained that flight recorder from the Seinar breaking yards?"

"I did. Retrieving it was noisier than I would have liked"

"That is an understatement. However, it doesn't seem like the New Republic knows you were involved, not yet anyway. My people have been monitoring New Republic communications along the border worlds, and their fleet movements have remained constant. If they thought we were responsible for the breaking yard incident, they would have taken on a more aggressive pattern. That being said, What you did was no small risk.

"I understand sir."

"And I need you to fix it."

"Sir?"

"The added security around Chandrila will make it impossible to extract you without some planning. It will take several weeks if we are being optimistic. During that time, I want you to find a way to dig yourself out from the hole you've fallen into. Find a way to disappear along with any evidence that will compromise us. In the meantime, you are excused from your responsibilities regarding the capitol."

"Understood sir, though some citizens within this city will recognize my face and scent."

"Then find some long lasting body paint and cologne, and an alias. I need you to solve this Vivian. Now, insert the flight recorder into the transmitter. I'd rather we transferred the data sooner than later."

Vivian pulled open a small shelf near the base of the transmitter, and placed the flight recorder within it. A mechanical arm zipped past the flight recorder, trailing an array of sensors. Maximilian was hailed by an officer offscreen and said something indiscernible before addressing Vivian again. "We have received all the data we need from the flight recorder. This will keep our analysts busy for a while. There should be a diamond shaped button at the bottom of the recorder, next to a circuit bundle. Hold that down for a minute or two, and the recorder will self-liquify. I suggest you do this over a sink or in a bathtub."

"Is that all then, sir." Vivian responded distantly. She had desperately wanted to get off Chandrila and was distraught to hear that she was to remain. Even so, she was already forming a plan to find Yafu and to erase whatever leads he may have given the police.

The blue coloring returned to the hologram and Maximilian's figure came back into focus. Although Maximilian's presence as an admiral was meant to inspire feelings of power and certainty, his eyes displayed concern and sadness. Those eyes had never changed since Vivian first met him. "Be careful Vivian", Maximilian said as the hologram flickered off.

The Realm of Mutsa Wusha

(Wusha's Paradise)

Abercrombie was a particularly nervous individual, but after his encounter with the gooberfish and his escape from the breaking yards explosion, he was feeling more tired and disappointed than afraid.

Kringea had grabbed him by the neck and carried him to a gated passageway behind Mutsa Wusha's aquarium. The walls were moist in this section of the Wusha's Paradise, and the air was stale and musky. There were only several red lights along the ceiling that illuminated the heavy barred cages that lined the hallway. Abercrombie could hear growls and barks coming from the cages, but the minimal light did not illuminate the inhabitants within. Kringea strolled leisurely through the hallway, the baying and screeching going silent as she passed. This activated Abercrombie's overactive mind. "Kringea is likely the most powerful being in this facility. Perhaps she is Mutsa Wusha's main enforcer, she definitely acts like it. However , Vivian had Kringea at her mercy, and we outwitted Vivian. Perhaps there is still a chance for Jaeleno and myself."

Kringea opened a cage no larger than a laundry chute and stuffed Abercrombie inside. "Nighty Night", Kringea said mockingly as she slammed the bars shut. Abercrombie felt around the cage with his hands. It was too cramped for him to stand up fully, but he could lay down completely. The cage smelt like rabbit (or perhaps gerbil?), and Abercrombie wondered if it had housed feeding animals before it was vacated. He pushed the thought from his mind before he could get caught on it. He needed his undivided attention focused on the situation immediately before him.

Vivian was not on Sobayaki land anymore. Jaeleno had made that incredibly clear. Even if Jaeleno found Vivian, Abercrombie still doubted she would show her face anywhere near the capitol again. If Vivian wasn't found, bad things would happen to him. Abercrombie didn't like that, and the prospect of his life being completely in Jaeleno's hands was even worse. He would have to find a way out himself.

The entrance to the prison hallway had been sealed by a complex iron door and mechanical lock system. Abercrombie suspected the door operated through an automated face recognition system or from an operator elsewhere in Wusha's Paradise. Kringea had passed through without needing to do anything, after all. This was a start. Abercrombie stuck his arms through the bars in his cage and felt for a lock. There was a simple physical lock on his cage and Abercrombie's spirit lifted a little. He was beginning to develop a plan.

Abercrombie spent what felt like hours practicing the motion of threading his tail through the bars. His old owner at the capitol college had taught him how to use his tail like a third hand, and Abercrombie was particularly good at it. If Kringea (or any other guard) walked past again, he just might be able to steal a key chain off them. From there, he would have to find a cage to hide in until the door to the hallway opened again.

Abercrombie quickly lost track of time. He knew he had been in the cramped darkness for a while, but didn't know whether it was early in the morning or still night time. A guard (not Kringea) had passed, and Abercrombie had heard the clinging of a key chain on them. Another guard had passed and Abercrombie thought he saw the glint of a key chain on their hip. Now, he heard the footsteps of a third guard. He quietly slipped his tail through the bars and let it lie against the wall beneath his cage. The guard passed by without noticing and Abercrombie made his move. His tail wrapped around the key chain, and a quick jerk removed it from the guard's belt. Abercrombie was astonished. It had actually worked! He pulled back his tail and grabbed the key chain. Unfortunately, the bundle of keys did not fit between the bars, so Abercrombie had no time to conceal his catch. If he was spotted, he was done. If he dropped the keys, he was done. Abercrombie was understandably nervous.

There were at least 15 keys on the keychain, and it was painfully obvious sticking out of Abercrombie's cage into the hallway. Abercrombie inserted the first key and twisted it in both directions. Nothing happened. His hands began to shake as he inserted the second key into the port. He twisted it, and the lock didn't budge. The keys made an audible jingle as Abercrombie's hands continued to shake. He twisted the third key, and the cage cracked open. Abercrombie counted himself incredibly lucky.

Abercrombie peaked out of the cage down the hallway. To the right, the light from the main party room crept in underneath the hallway's steel door. To the left, an armed guard sat in front of a security terminal. A low desk was pocketed with visors displaying live feeds from most of the large cages. Below these visors were a slew of tiny black buttons. Abercrombie was too far away to know what any of the buttons did, but he was willing to find out. The guard was the quarren girl they had met earlier. At the moment, she was in the process of cleaning her coral blaster pistol, and was only casting an eye at the monitors every minute or so. This was as good a chance as any.

Abercrombie made a short jump onto the floor and began sneaking towards the guard. If he was lucky, there might be a release mechanism for all the cages on the terminal. He could escape by distracting Kringea, Mutsa Wusha, and their ilk with a riot. All he would have to do is get past the guard. Abercrombie silently crawled towards the terminal, hugging the right edge of the wall. He was getting closer. Ten feet left, now six. The guard's attention was still glued to her weapon. Abercrombie had already guessed that the release controls were several medium sized iron knobs on the right side of the terminal. All he would have to do is jump up, and turn as many of the knobs as possible. Sure, the guard might notice him, but it wasn't Kringea. That meant that he could get away before she could react.

Abercrombie approached the terminal, hugging the floor as much as possible. In the low light he appeared little more than a shadow. He was about to jump onto the terminal when a jolt of panic shot through him. Five large fingers had closed around his tail. Abercrombie suppressed a squeal as a muscular, furred arm pulled him between the bars of a large cage on the right side of the hallway. Hearing this commotion, the guard turned around, but there was nothing left in the hallway to be seen.

Once Abercrombie was pulled through the bars, another hand came down and held his beak like a vice grip. In the low light, Abercrombie could only see the dark brown fur going up the arms and two reflective eyes staring back at him. He was carried to a cheap cot in the back of the cell and set down. The first hand released his body, but the second one stayed on his beak. Abercrombie could now see the outline of the being cut out against the hallway light. It was tall, at least seven feet, and had matted brown and black fur. A section of the being's upper lip had been cut off in a fight, exposing a pearly white canine. Its eyes were inquisitive and nervous, and it moved as if it wanted to minimize the amount of noise made by its bulky frame. "Mrghhhhhh", it said quietly poking at Abercrombie's non functioning translator. It was a wookie, and Abercrombie prayed their reputation as civilized folk would hold true in this scenario.

The wookie stopped fiddling with Abercrombie's translator when it found that the battery had been removed. It then held a finger to its lip in a gesture for Abercrombie to be quiet. The second hand released Abercrombie's beak and returned to the wookie's side. "Arghhhg mrghh mrarrrrah?" Abercrombie rubbed his hands together as he tried to decipher what the wookie had said. He had talked to wookies before, but had relied on his translator. This meant he could only pick up fragments. "Fool … understand danger?" Abercrombie pointed at the keys then pointed at the security terminal. It took the wookie a few moments to understand what Abercrombie was showing, and it didn't seem impressed. " Release of prisoners … endangerment for prisoners… no escape." The wookie grasped the key chain in one hand and pried Abercrombie's hands off it with the other. Abercrombie watched in horror as the wookie stuck its arm between the bars and set the keys in the center of the hallway. The jingle of the keys hitting the ground attracted the attention of the guard, who looked away from her blaster and down the hallway. The guard saw the wookie's hand slipping between the bars and then saw the keys. She pushed a small, ornate magazine into her freshly cleaned blaster and ran to the cage. "Were you trying to get at my keys, Fifa?" The guard asked as she pointed her blaster at the wookie. "Ghhrrrhr muraggh", the wookie responded. The guard kept her blaster leveled at the wookie as she bent down and picked up the keys. "Don't do that again. Mutsa Wusah would punish both of us if you escaped." The guard reattached the keychain to her belt and returned to her terminal.

Abercrombie took a deep breath. He had hid under the cot after the wookie had drawn the attention of the guard, and counted himself lucky he had not been seen in the low light. However, he was not so lucky as to avoid the wookie's vice grip as it reached under the cot and picked him up again. The wookie leaned against the side of the cage and saw that the guard was once again focused on cleaning her pistol. The wookie then walked to the back of the cage and moved the cot into a corner. It stepped onto the cot and used a claw to pry open a tiny ventilation duct. Abercrombie and the wookie looked at each other. The wookie's eyes seemed to say, "I'm sorry". It whispered "Krrghg - get help" as it pushed Abercrombie into the vents. It was an incredibly tight fit, even for Abercrombie. The air was dusty and stung Abercrombie's nose. Behind him, the wookie replaced the vent and complete darkness fell upon him. "Stars save me", Abercrombie thought to himself as he started to crawl forwards.

A "Bang, Bang, Bang" emanated from the aluminum bottom of the vent with each of Abercrombie's movements. Naturally, this was undesirable for Abercrombie, so he opted to pull himself along on his belly instead of crawling. It was slow, dirty, tiring work. The vent continued straight ahead for some distance (it was hard to tell in the dark) before suddenly making a turn straight upwards. Abercrombie only noticed this change in direction after he smacked his head on the side of the vent and felt around for the new opening with his hands. He dug his claws into the sides of the vent and began climbing upwards. The higher Abercrombie rose, the less the air stunk. That was a good sign at least. After several minutes of climbing, Abercrombie could also make out a faint light at the top of the shaft. This lifted his spirits and he climbed with renewed vigor.

At least 20 minutes had passed by Abercrombie's counting. It was incredibly difficult climbing up the smooth sides of the aluminum shaft, and he had lost his grip on several occasions, causing him to slide back down to the bottom. On his fourth try, Abercrombie managed to reach the top. The shaft made a 90 degrees turn into a cleaner horizontal section. There were now many decorative air exchange units along the bottom of the vent, and Abercrombie was able to look down through them and get his bearings. He was above a pool of black, volcanic mud. Several gamorians and a sullustain were wallowing in it and being served horderves by a protocol droid. "So the dungeon and the spa share the same air conditioning unit", Abercrombie thought to himself, "Interesting."

Abercrombie lied on his stomach again and resumed pulling himself forwards. It was quiet, but not quiet enough. One of the spa goers in the mud bath briefly looked up at the vent before returning to its meal. Abercrombie noticed this and reduced his speed. For every five minutes, he crawled along a meter or two, and it was absolutely terrifying. The spa was full of people, both staff and customers. If Abercrombie made any noise above a whisper, he would be detected, and he wagered that Mutsa Wusha knew this ventilation line was connected to the prison levels. She would take any scuttling within it very seriously.

Speaking of Mutsa Wusha, Abercrombie could see the hutt lounging on a jade slab in the center of the Y-shaped spa. Her eyes were closed while she puffed on a long, slender death stick… and the ventilation shaft went right over her. Abercrombie was silent as a shadow as he crawled past the air exchange that cooled Mutsa Wusha. If she looked up, she would probably see him. Abercrombie just had to go a couple meters further. "Great Madam", a servant said to Mutsa Wusha, "I have something that you should know. Abercrombie went motionless. The servant talking to Mutsa Wusha was the Quarren guard he had just escaped from.

"What do you have for me, Honey?" Mutsa wusha said as her heavy eyelids slid open.

"This concerns our 'stockroom'. We seem to be missing a lizard Monkey." A puff of smoke escaped Mutsa Wusha's nose in a heavy cough, and she removed the death stick from her cavernous mouth. "I beg your pardon?" She said, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"We've closed the lower levels. No one goes in or out without being searched."

"Lower your voice", Mutsa Wusha said in a forced whisper. "Station guards around the perimeter of the building. And fan out to the highway. Disguise them as advertisers for our Alderaan weekend special, but make it clear that I want that lizard monkey found, oh and monitor the vents. I want cameras installed on all the exterior air intakes."

Abercrombie's spirit sunk, he would not be leaving Wusaha's Paradise so easily it would seem. "One more thing", Mutsa Wusha said to the guard. "Notify me when Kringea locates Yafu Malik. She gets a little trigger happy, and I would rather she took him alive." Abercrombie looked down at the Hutt, her workers, and the spa goers in disgust. This was open, unabashed, violent criminal activity and none of the spa goers seemed to care (or were simply too stupid to notice). At least Sobyaki farms went through the decency of concealing their illicit practices. Here, Mutsa Wusha gave orders and operated the most morally bankrupt operation Abercrombie had ever seen in broad daylight. Abercrombie swore that he would find a way out of Wusha's Paradise, and he would bring this disgusting operation down.

Awake, And Behold.

(Capitol Police Precinct)

Yafu Malik absent mindedly watched the monitor installed in the corner of his cell. Behind it, moonlight filtered in through his room's only window. A reporter was walking through speeder sized chunks of durasteel that had been thrown from the destroyer and embedded in the outskirts of Mothamatown. The monitor was too quiet for him to discern what the reporter was saying, and Yafu was grateful for it. Guilt had been tugging at his heart ever since he realized he had been helping the imperial.

Yafu had considered telling the officers the identity of Jaeleno and Abercrombie, so they might be forgiven right away. However, he still suspected that the two farmers were doing business with Mutsa Wusha. If he told the officers who they were, Mutsa would consider them liabilities. Yafu had sold drugs under Mutsa Wusha for years, and he had seen the hutt murder people for less.

He considered the Sobayaki dealers to be his friends. Was that feeling mutual between them? Yafu didn't know. Perhaps he was doing this act of "charity" to make amends for the sins he had committed both during the war, and during his drug dealing days after. Yafu felt the unyielding pain in his hips and craved a flufff egg now more than ever. It wasn't just the pain the drugs held at bay, but also the guilt and grief he carried with him. How many lives had he ended? Hundreds? Thousands if he counted capital ships? In his high flying days, Yafu considered the loss of life necessary to create a better galaxy, and to protect those who could not protect themselves. Now that his flying days were over, it crushed him like a tungsten yoke.

A brisk, light knock rapped at the door, and a voice came through the cell's intercom. "Mind if I come in? I brought coffee?" It was officer Naveen's voice. "Half a moment", Yafu responded through his side of the intercom. He double checked that his more appalling bionics were properly concealed, and that his cell was in proper order. He may have been a druggie, but he didn't want to give the appearance of an absolute cretin. After a moment, the cell door slid open and Naveen walked in. In her left hand were two steaming cups of coffee, and in the other hand was a foldable metal chair. Naveen set up the chair in the corner nearest the door. "I thought you could use this", she said, handing Yafu his cup.

Yafu took the cup of joe from Naveen. He didn't need to be an officer to know she was a novice. She carried herself with a willful optimism he had possessed when he first became a starfighter pilot. "Thank you officer", Yafu said, giving a short toast with his cup. "To the New Republic."

"To the New Republic", said Naveen, returning the gesture. Yafu took a deep drought of the coffee, it wasn't a Flufff egg, but it still was something. He looked up at Naveen who had not yet touched her cup. "They really shouldn't be sending you in here alone Naveen", Yafu said bluntly. You don't know if I could be dangerous." Naveen gave a confused smile. "I don't think you're dangerous, Yafu. Even if you were, there's a security camera above the door. The other officers would be here in a second if they thought something was wrong." Yafu took another sip and felt more of his withdrawal symptoms vanish. "So why are you here Naveen? '' He asked.

Naveen set her untouched coffee on the floor and checked her watch. "Ghaghikh thought I might be able to get more information about the breaking yards incident in a conversational manner. The coffee was my own idea though. There was an uncomfortable silence before Naveen spoke again. "I saw on your record that you were a pilot for Gold Squadron… is it true that you were at the battle of Yavin IV?" Yafu drained the rest of his coffee before responding. "Yes, I was there." Naveen looked at Yafu with wonder in her eyes. "Thank you for your service, really. If it hadn't been for the destruction of the Death Star, I'm sure we all would still be under the rule of Palpatine." Yafu shook his head. "You forget that the Empire was able to build another Death Star in only four years. Gold Squadron didn't even succeed in our attack run, that was Red Squadron."

"That doesn't matter, you are still a hero."

"Ha! No. I definitely am not. If you define a hero only based on what someone does in wartime, then I recommend that you change your definition. Much of my life has been spent lying, cheating, and bribing others. You shouldn't form your opinion of me based on two hours of my life. I am not a good person."

Naveen looked down at the concrete floor and pondered what Yafu had said. Her coffee was now cold, but she took a sip from it anyway. "You know, my brother joined the Rebellion after hearing about the battle of Yavin. He's flying for Vanguard Squadron now. Before that, we kept our heads low and counted ourselves lucky the Empire had not yet settled on Mirial. When we heard that less than a hundred star fighter pilots took down the most destructive superweapon in the galaxy, it inspired us. It gave our entire planet hope."

"Hope." Yafu phrased the word dryly. "Hope didn't win the battle of Yavin, Naveen. Luck and desperation did. Do you think the Empire lacked hope? Because I sure don't think so. Please do not prop me up as an idol. I've done nothing worthy of praise since the war ended. Ask me what you were instructed to ask and let that be the end of it."

"You're selling yourself short", naveen hastily responded . "You came to us when you could have walked away. I think you did this because, at heart, you still are a good person. You still care about the New Republic and you still want to do the right thing." She paused and listened. There was someone outside. "I'm conducting an interrogation", Naveen said over the intercom. "Unless it's important, could you please come back later?" The cell doors opened, revealing officer Smithee. A look of absolute despair had crept onto his face upon hearing Naveen's voice. Behind him, an imposing figure stood with its scalpel like claws millimeters from Smithee's neck. The light in the hallway outside had been turned off, so that the figure was only illuminated by moonlight beaming in through the cell's transparisteel window. The figure's anglerfish like eyes reflected that same moonlight as it parted its gums in a toothy, molted smile.

"Smith, Smith, Smithee", the figure chastened venomously. "You told me our dear old Yafu Malik would be all by himself this evening. Why am I looking at this Mirialan woman?" Naveen drew her stinger pistol and thanked the force that it didn't slip from her hand. She turned off the safety and took a breath. "I am officer Naveen Lukrizia of the capitol police and I command you to release your hostage. Put your hands behind your back. Do it or I will shoot!" The figure chuckled softly to itself. "That's cute, sweetie," it purred, but I think you better put the blaster down. You don't want your coworker here to get hurt, do you?" Naveen tightened her grip on the pistol.

"Kringea, listen to me", Yafu said to the figure. "I can see you didn't bother wearing gloves. If you harm either of these officers, the entire precinct will be combing Chandrila for you. You know Ghaghik Lghghagh never forgets a scent. Kringea let out a shrill, gurgling laugh. "Ohhh ohoh, You are mistaken Yafu. My little Smithee here has a lot to lose if my tracks aren't covered. How do you think I got this far into the precinct in the first place? As for the scent, I'm not too bothered. I could take that old lizard in a fight." Naveen's pistol made a jingling sound as it shook in her hands. "Smithee? What is she saying?" Naveen was barely able to contain the fear that was washing over her. Smithee mouthed the words to something, but Naveen was unable to read it in the low light. "Telling secrets are we?" Kringea said, as she pushed the tips of her claws slowly into the back of Smithee's neck. The officer winced in pain, but he mouthed the words again. This time, Naveen understood what he was saying. "Take the shot".

A golden bolt of energy flew from Naveen's stinger pistol and lit up the interior of the dark cell. It flew over Smithee's shoulder and burrowed into Kringea's left eye, creating a tiny, smoking hole. Instead of toppling over, Kringea merely stumbled backwards and cupped her hand to her eye. "Congratulations", she said, "You are now responsible for the death of three people." Still clutching her eye, Kringea swept at Smithee's neck with her free hand. "Schluppp!" The officer's head fell from his shoulders and his body collapsed onto the ground. Naveen screamed and stumbled back. She could see a puddle of blood pooling around Smithee's severed neck, and his head was still rocking back and forth on the ground. It was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. Naveen took another shot at Kringea, and the bolt illuminated the room again, bringing Smithee's body into full focus. However, Kringea was ready this time. She crouched below the bolt, and snarled as she pounced at the officer. Naveen closed her eyes as the disgusting creature surged at her. However, the impact she anticipated never arrived.

Naveen heard a loud "Phuttt", as if something fleshy had been hit hard with a steel beam, and opened her eyes. Yafu Malik had removed a large battery from his right leg (evident by how he was now limping) and was wielding it like a shock club. Kringea had been knocked to the floor by an overhand strike and arcs of electricity were now traveling across her spasming body. "Naveen, get behind me and call for help!"Yafu shouted. "I don't know how long Kringea will stay down!" Naveen got out her transmitter and cursed herself for not activating it earlier. "I have a code three in the north detention wing. An officer has been killed and a heavily armed individual is still on the premises. I need backup now!"

"So this is how I'm going to die", Yafu thought to himself. His makeshift club was draining power from his legs fast, and he could already see Kringea regaining control of her body. Behind him, Naveen was struggling to reload her stinger pistol with one hand, while operating the transmitter in the other. Kringea may have been trying to capture him, but the disgusting creature was in kill mode now. Yafu didn't want the death of Naveen on his hands. If he was going to die, he was going to take Mutsa Wusha's evil enforcer with him. Yafu turned off the shock function of his battery, redirecting power back to his legs. He then kicked Kringea in the chest. This sent her back to the doorway, but she was on her feet even before she stopped sliding. "Mutsa Wusha wanted me to take you alive, Yafu", Kringea hissed, "But I don't think I'm going to do that" Yafu tested the hydraulics in both of his legs and thanked the force they still worked. He stared into Kringea's soulless eyes and said, "All of Chandrilla knows you're here now. Back down!"

"Back down? My dear Yafu, all that these pigs will find when they get here are your bodies! Now Die!" Kringea ran at Yafu almost faster than he could react. As she lunged for him with her razor-like claws, Yafu feigned another overhand strike and kicked her in the gut with every iota of strength he had to offer. The hydraulics in his legs burst as the kick impacted Kringea, and Yafu fell to the ground. Kringea stooped, reeling from the hit. Her shirt was ripped where Yafu's foot had impacted her gut, and her exoskeleton was falling out in fleshy clumps. It should have been enough to kill most creatures, but Kringea was not most creatures. Exposed bionics implanted in Kringea's abdominal cavity caught the moonlight, as she pulled a thin, red needle from her belt. "You just cost me … more credits than you … can possibly imagine", she said between gasps. Yafu desperately ran his fingers over his legs, attempting to reroute enough power to move. Deep down, he knew this was the end.

Kringea stuck the needle deep into the side of her neck and injected its amber contents into an artery. Almost immediately, the flesh and exoskeleton around her gutt writhed and weaved back over the bionic implants. Her biceps, pectorals, and quadriceps all bulged and she doubled over again in what seemed like a seizure. When she looked up at Yafu, the hole that Naveen's stinger pistol had made was mended, and a white foam drizzled from Kringea's mouth. She lunged for Yafu again.

Yafu raised his power converter club in an attempt to parry the blow, but Kringea caught the weapon as if it were a foam softball bat. She effortlessly ripped it from Yafu's grip and raised it up, every muscle in her body tensing for the blow. Four golden bolts of energy zipped from the back of the room into Kringea's chest, each hitting their mark. Kringea looked up to see Naveen still pressing the trigger to her now empty gun. "You all are pathetic!", Kringea shouted. The wounds in her chest were already healing. She heaved the club and brought it down with full force.

Yafu raised up his hand to shield his face as his own battery careened towards him. He felt the cold of the metal as it connected with his forearm. Heard the shattering of his radius and ulna as it simply went through the bones, and lost his breath as the club caved in his chest. The world suddenly went quiet, and Yafu could no longer experience the pain in his hips, nor the craving for Flufff eggs. All was still, all was at peace.

Naveen screamed again and backed into the corner as Kringea mauled Yafu. Then, something happened. It was a peculiar feeling, as if Naveen had opened a window keeping out a raging typhoon. All her feelings of uselessness, her desperation for acceptance, now, her feelings of fear and ice cold shock all welled up. The disgusting thing that had just mauled Yafu and Smithee looked up at her and smiled, foam still dripping from the corners of its mouth. "All that shooting of yours has made this very personal", it said, but its smile faded the moment it looked Naveen in the eyes. The thing's face betrayed a semblance of fear. It ripped the power converter from Yafu's chest and darted at her. Naveen put her arms up to shield herself, just as Yafu had. She knew it was a pointless gesture, but what else was she going to do? "Get back!" she shouted, closing her eyes.

"CRASH!" The sound of shattering concrete and tearing steel filled the room. Naveen opened her eyes and caught her breath at what she saw. The figure was no longer in the cell with her. In its place, was a broad, dark smear of orange blood that led out the door. The door's durasteel frame was badly bent and globs of carapace were dripping to the floor. There was a blood stain that spread across the far wall like an interpretive painting. A hole had been made in its epicenter that went through several feet of concrete and steel columns before exiting into the dark winter night. The creature was gone.

Naveen heard the lock to the detention wing's main entrance pop open with the application of a battering ram and recognized the garble of her fellow officer's transmitters. The door must have been locked. Safe. She was safe. Naveen slid down the wall to the cell's floor. Cold perspiration had settled on her forehead, and she felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to shut her eyes, and wait to be rescued, but a soft wheeze pulled her back into reality. Yafu was still conscious. "In here! We're in here!" Naveen shouted. Yafu's shirt was soaked with blood and Naveen tried to staunch the bleeding in his chest. It was pointless. "There's so much! There's so much!" Naveen frantically said to herself as the crimson liquid welled up past her fingers. Yafu lightly grasped Naveen's hands and tried to say something, but he no longer had the air in his lungs to speak, nor the feeling in his lips to make the words. Naveen looked into the dying eyes of a man that had once helped save the galaxy, and cursed herself that she didn't know what to do. "Thank the stars you're safe", Yafu was trying to say. He was absolutely mesmerized at having seen the force in action. He had heard stories about it, but was always a disbeliever. It was an irony that one of the greatest mysteries in the galaxy had just been unveiled to him moments before he expired. A final choking wheeze escaped the star fighter pilot, and he died on the cell floor.

The Gathering Storm

( Along the edge of Sobayaki property)

The Sobayaki farms delivery speeder sped along an overgrown, forested trail in the shadow of a moss covered rock face. Attached to the speeder was an additional wagon hauling a rusted, disassembled turbolaser. In all his years on the farm, Jaeleno Sobyaki had never figured out how to get the thing working, but tonight, he felt like giving it another go. It was twilight and the edge of the trail blurred with the surrounding forest at the speeds Jaeleno was operating his vehicle. If Abercrombie was there, he would have reprimanded Jaeleno for his ludicrous driving. That was the problem though, Abercrombie wasn't there.

The trail widened into a deforested clearing several city blocks wide. The rock face continued into this clearing, and a massive, circular entrance shaft had been carved into the rock. Further down the trail was a frozen pound that still had old boring equipment from the days the old mining site was active. If one looked close enough, tire tracks had been pressed into the floor of the clearing just below a fresh layer of snow. This gave away the fact that Vivian's Juggernaut was now being hidden in the old Mauritius mine.

Jaeleno's speeder turned into the cavernous entrance of the old mine. Even with the speeder's headlights on, it was dark, with only the ground immediately in front of the speeder clearly visible. There were many smaller tunnels branching off from the main shaft, like capillaries to an artery. Unlike the main shaft, these smaller tunnels held the warm glow of campfire and lamp light. The mine was anything but abandoned. This did not bother Jaeleno because he knew exactly who was squatting here.

The main shaft curved right into a large, rectangular dig site. Here and there, silver veins of dunium cut through the rock. Along the far wall, amidst a pile of dysfunctional mining equipment was Vivian's juggernaut… or what was left of it. The Jawas were scampering over the juggernaut like ants over a corpse. They had stripped the vehicle to just the engine and chassis, and were now in the process of separating those as well. Yorg stood on top of the chassis, and pried the engine block from its bearings. Riding the monstrous droid was Tralalog, who shouted "Mutuittti Uwa" when he saw Jaeleno's speeder slip into the chamber. The jawas swarmed off the juggernaut and approached the speeder. Yorg jumped from its perch, and shook the cavern as it impacted the floor. It then took a knee and Tralalog slid down to greet Jaeleno in person.

"I hope you don't mind us tearing up the juggernaut early", Tralalog said. "Best to leave no trace of it for the feds to follow." Another Jawa handed Tralalog a cloth which he used to scrub his head and hands. When he was done, it was black with grease and rust. Jaeleno glanced up at Yorg and then to the assembly of Jawas around him. "This will do", he thought to himself. "I need your help Tralalog", Yafu said in a dead serious tone. " I'm listening", Tralalog responded. His yellow, luminescent eyes looked up at Jaeleno inquisitively. "Do you know about a Hutt named Mutsa Wusha", Jaeleno asked.

"No. Does it owe you money?"

"The other way around. I made several stupid decisions and now she is holding Abercrombie hostage. I need your help breaking into a beauty salon on the outskirts of the capitol to rescue him." Tralalog stroked his whiskers. "My family and I are in your debt from the breaking yard, but I can't risk the Seinars finding us. You will receive help, but only Yorg, myself and a couple others will accompany you." Jaeleno nodded. "That will do", he said.

Tralalog shouted something to the assembled crowd and five overweight Jawas scurried over. They surprised Jaeleno by procuring tape measures and taking readings on every angle of his body. "What are you guys doing?" Jaeleno asked in a measured tone, concealing his annoyance, as the jawas went about their work. "Taking precautions, '' Tralalog said. " If you die, it will draw attention to your land. I don't want that, you don't want that, and the family doesn't want it. So, we are going to rig up some armor for you."

"Have you ever done that before", Jaeleno asked nervously. Tralaog's eyes displayed a hint of amusement. "No", he said in a tone indicating it was not up for debate.

The tape measure jawas scurried away deeper into the mine as Jaeleno and Tralalog walked over to the delivery speeder's wagon. Inside was a heavy, rusted pipe attached to an equally corroded power assembly. Broken tubing and random screws were piled everywhere else in the wagon. "What do we have here?" Tralalaog said, hopping up the side of the wagon to get a better look. "It's an old turbolaser", Jaeleno answered. "I got it from an antique sale in Bantha Run." Tralalog chuckled to himself. "That would explain its condition. You have a busted turbo pump, the plasma condenser needs cleaning, You're missing your magnetic array, and I think that is a sewer pipe, not an actual cannon barrel." Jaeleno was silent for a second. "Can you get it to work?" He asked. Tralalog's chuckle grew into a full laugh. "Sure! But do you really want me to? This thing will be heavy, loud, and bright. It's not going to be concealable by any measure." Jaeleno ran his hand over the corroding barrel. "Do it", he said.

"Give us a hand Yorg!" Tralalog shouted. After hearing its name, the iron golem stomped over to the wagon and hefted the deteriorating turbolaser in one hand. "Have Loog and his boys look at that, and make sure not to break it on your way there", Tralalog said in Jawa. "Gonk! GonK! GeeeonKKKK!", Yorg stated enthusiastically as it marched over to a heavy machinery maintenance rack near the juggernaut. "I haven't seen Yorg this excited in years", Tralallog said to nobody in particular. "Sometimes I worry if I've given him too much battle droid code. He does so yearn for combat." The hulking figure deposited the turbolaser in the maintenance rack, and Loog, leading a group of oil stained jawas, began transplanting components from the juggernaut onto the cannon's oxidized frame.

"Has Yorg ever had to fight anything?" Jaeleno asked, trying to gauge the effectiveness of the crew he was assembling, "You make it sound like he has".

"Oh, yes", Tralalog responded. "Before we cut ties with the Seinars, our job was to crawl into the wrecks and see what was worth salvaging and what was damaged beyond repair. They only ever sent us in with New Republic security droids as protection, slow as tar and dumb as a Gungan. Those droids were useless. On one job, I was going through an armory, and this big, black robot walked out of a charging port in the wall. I still remember it having a metal face like an insect's. Anyway, it splits the two security droids in half with a single punch. We all scatter, and shoot it with our ion launchers, but to no avail. So, I lead this thing away from the family to one of the docking bays. At this point, I'm exhausted and the thing is gaining on me. If Loog hadn't impaled it with a forklift, I wouldn't be talking with you right now. You know, I think there are still elements of that forklift powering Yorg's left claw."

Tralalog continues talking about his adventures in the breaking Yards, but Jaeleno wasn't listening. His mind was elsewhere as he watched Loog recreate a very real weapon of war on the other side of the chamber. "Why did I ever buy that piece of junk?" Jaeleno thought to himself. He genuinely never wanted to use it, and he knew he didn't have the expertise to fix it. Was it an impulse buy or did he somehow know that he was going to need it one day? Jaeleno looked down at the uneven, rocky ground of the chamber. He wondered how things might have turned out differently if he had let the Mauritius mine stay. He hated the Maurituses for leaving his father's property to rot while they grew rich off of the land, but what good did shooing them away do? How much money had Daquanz offered him to keep the mine running 50,000 credits per year, maybe more? Could the farm have prospered legally if he had let them stay? Jaeleno felt his hands shaking as the reality of the situation washed over him like a black tide. People could get hurt, and it would be on him. How sweet it would be if all of this could have been avoided.

"… And Yorg pulled the beak right from the pit of the sarlacc… oh look, Your armor is ready" The obese Jawas returned carrying different pieces of grey, heavy plate armor. Jaeleno picked up what looked like a breastplate and was amazed by how heavy it was. The discoloration from the spot welds were still fresh, and the unpainted durasteel was still warm to the touch. It looked crude, resembling the rectangular patchwork the Jawas did on the Juggernaut, but it was undoubtedly sturdy. The inside was lined with rubber from the juggernaut's tires and several kitchen sponges on the innermost layer to counter blunt impacts. "Wow", Jaeleno says out loud, "You all work fast." Tralalog nodded. The Jawa had already adorned his own set of black durasteel plate armor and was testing the straps. "Why don't you try it on", he says, "Abercrombie still needs our help."

Jaeleno began to heave the breastplate onto his chest, but one of the tape measure jawas pulled it away from him, saying something indistinguishable. "You have to put an exoskeleton on in order to carry all that weight," said Tralalog. The Jawas slid a metal hoop up Jaeleno's legs , and (despite his protestations) personally fasten it to his waist. They then put a sturdy plastic and durasteel collar across his shoulders and around his neck. Four metal spines (two on Jaeleno's front, two on his back) are set in place to connect the metal ring and the collar. Four more are used to transfer the weight of the assembly to his legs. The Jawas then begin to attach the plate armor to this scaffolding. They start with Jaeleno's legs and work up with astonishing swiftness. Soon, the breastplate is attached, and all that is left is the helmet.

Jaeleno looks down at the helmet. The lower section is a mess of tubes and hydraulic pistons "You will need those if you want to turn your head", Tralalog said without prompt. The weak components around the neck are protected by strands of thick, metal plate that drape down the edges of the hemet. The sides and rear of the helmet are made of a single strip of durasteel with portholes made of the same substance as the Juggernaut's viewports. The front of the helmet has a single porthole and a tiny red sensor hub. The top of the helmet is made from overlapping steel slabs that gives the appearance of scales. Jaeleno is taken aback by how much the Jawas were able to create in less than an hour.

He attached the helm and heard a hiss as the hydraulic lines connect. Just in front of his nose is a radar display he recognizes from the Juggernaut. The entire helmet is padded with pillows, rags, and other soft things that seem like afterthoughts compared to the meticulous engineering of the durasteel exterior. He picks up the strong aroma of rubber and can see it lining the port holes. It is a claustrophobic, sweaty interior, but Jaeleno's conviction to save Abercrombie pushes the discomfort aside. "Well, he's not suffocating", Tralalog says to the assembled jawas. "See if the locomotion units works." Jaeleno heard a metallic whining coming from the metal ring around his waist. A similar noise emanates from the collar around his neck. The radar display lights up red and the portholes give off a soft glow from within. "Take a step forwards", Tralalaog instructs. Jaeleno does so and his left leg gets stuck in the bent position. He unceremoniously falls sideways onto the ground. "Hmm, You're going to need more power. Yorg!"

The iron golem stomped over and set Jaeleno against the speeder like a kid realigning an action figure. As Jaeleno is propped up, he notices a rusted, cylindrical shape grafted to Yorg's right arm. "You got the turbo laser working already?" Jaeleno asks through the helm. "Gonk GOnK", Yorg said as it detached a tube from its chest and fastened it to the suit. Jaeleno's leg snaps back into place with alarming speed and the light in the helmet glows brighter. "Try it again", Tralalalog says. Jaeleno takes a step forward, and the servo motor keeps pace. The heavy armor makes a 'PHUMP, PHUMP' as it successfully transverses the ground… at the pace of a protocol droid. "Can this move any faster?" Jaeleno asks as he trundles along much slower than he imagined himself doing. "Not unless we get more droid servos", Tralalog answers, "We used most of our old supply repairing Yorg from the breaking yards explosion." Jaeleno tests the movement of his arms and is satisfied by that at least. He grabs the door to the speeder and the handle comes off in his hand.

Jaeleno tosses the handle away (which is picked up by a jawa) and moves to the other side of the vehicle. He opens the other door more carefully and gazes at his scattergun in the cup holder. In his entire career, Jaeleno had never had to fire it at a person. Now, he'd be willing to make an exception for the Gilded hutt and her court. Jaeleno thrusts two shells of buckshot into his firearm and snapps it shut, He turns to the Jawas. "Alright", he says, "For those of you who are interested in fighting an evil hutt and getting Abercrombie back, get in".

Storming Paradise

(The next morning)

The early morning sunlight reflected off the freshly snowed roads and parking lots around the strip mall. All across the complex, the "PIP, PIP" of melting icicles could be heard splattering against the pavement. Pulling in from the not yet plowed highway, was the over encumbered Sobyaki delivery speeder. The speeder pulled a metal wagon with a bulging tarp covering more than double the standard occupying space. The old repulsors on the bottom of the wagon were drooping dangerously close to the pavement, and the speeder was starting to rattle from the strain of pulling such a load. Jaeleno thanked the stars that an officer hadn't pulled him over for his obviously overfilled vehicle. There would have been no way to conceal what he had stuffed within it.

The main speeder housed the four Jawas who had deigned to go with him. There was Tralalaog, of course, Loog, and two others who seemed to be fighters. They all had similar looking plate armor and carried old T-21 blaster rifles and ion shooters that seemed too big for them. In the back, buried under the tarp and a layer of bliss weed, was Yorg. Even with the modifications the Jawas did to the wagon's repulsors, Jaeleno still marveled that it could carry so much weight. The speeder pulled into the drifted parking lot and Jaeleno's stomach lurched as the wagon nearly fell over while going over the uneven ground. Jaeleno unstrapped his communication device and wet his dry lips.

"My feet are sore and I need some me time?" The radio spoke back immediately with the voice of the quarren masseuse who had pulled a gun on Jaeleno earlier. "You made it on time for a change. What's in the wagon?"

"Is this line secure?", Jaelno asked.

"Naturally"

"I have everything I use to make fluffff eggs, along with the person Mutsa Wusha wanted me to bring".

"I'll get the back opened for you"

The delivery speeder made the circle around Wusha's Paradise like it had before. While Jaeleno was making the turn, one of the Jawas put on his helmet. The garage door creaked open and Jaeleno just managed to back the speeder and the wagon inside (making sure the speeder was facing the exit). An assortment of Muta Wusha's guards materialized out of the woodwork of the poorly lit garage and began to encircle the speeder. Two began untying the straps that held the tarp in place.

Jaeleno felt the scattergun on his waist and undid the holster. He saw the Quarren girl approaching and felt his mouth go dry. The moment she got to the window, she would see Jaeleno's little buddies inside. They would then be on the clock. Jaeleno pressed the muzzle of his scattergun to the edge of his door, and tried his best to aim for the quarren's legs. One of the two spa guards in back had just flung open the tarp and whistled. "That sure is a lot of bliss weed back here! I wonder if … Ackkkkk!" A monstrous metal claw emerged from a pile of the weed and impaled the guard through the torso and abdomen. The claws spread apart, and the guard was split into three dark red clumps. This drew the attention of the room and distracted the guards from the gun barrels being slid through the windows of the speeder. Jaeleno took a breath and pulled the trigger.

'PHOOM!' a cluster of ten steel balls penetrated out the side of Jeleno's door and cut into the waist of quarren masseuse. She fell to the ground in a puddle of black ink as the Jawas in back opened fire. Three of their shots found targets, but one guard (a pig-like gamorrean) managed to dive behind the cover of a metal dumpster. Even from within the speeder, the guard could be heard squealing for reinforcements. "I just shot someone", Jaeleno thought to himself as he looked at the quarren girl writhing in her own ink. "What have I done?" A long, green blaster bolt went through Jaeleno's window and sent molten glass spraying against his plate armor. That stirred him. He kicked the door open and took a semi blind shot in the general direction of the shooter. A puff of orange powder went up from a bag of spice the shooter had been using for cover. This prompted a fit of coughing from behind it. Jaeleno took cover behind a tool bin a couple meters away from the speeder and cycled two more shells into his gun's chambers.

Yorg was up now and had devastated what was left of the wagon when he launched himself from it. The iron golem sprinted for the dumpster where the gamorrean guard remained calling for help. Yorg punched the dumpster so hard that the guard was squished against the wall. Meanwhile, the jawas had disembarked, and were fanning out across the room. The guard behind the spice bag made a run for it, but Tralalog put a hole in the back of his leg before he could get far. Three more guards entered the garage from the main spa, but were each shot down by the other jawas. Jaeleno hobbled (given the slow nature of his suit) over to the downed guard and flipped him onto his back with the barrel of his shotgun. The guard surprised Jaeleno by shooting him point blank in the chest with a blaster pistol. It didn't go through the armor, but the heat still stung like a sunnofagun. Jaeleno reactively shot the man in the chest and suppressed the urge the throw up after seeing what a mess it had made of him. Jaeleno really hadn't wanted to execute this guard, he just wanted him to open the secret chamber to the dungeon downstairs. Of course, there were still options left.

"Yorg!" Jaeleno shouted. "Follow me and get the door to the basement open!" Yorg turned suddenly and gave a merry "GOnk" as he stomped over to Jaeleno, blood dripping from his claws. Jaeleno hobbled around the floor and spat out a list of profanity as he searched. A minute passes. No major reinforcements had arrived… yet. Finally, Jaeleno caught sight of a miniscule fissure in the back corner of the garage that formed a large rectangle. Had Jaeleno not seen the hidden door open the first time, he would have missed this indicator entirely. "Ok Yorg, can you get this open", he said. A green light flashed on Yorg's face, and an induction fan could be heard buzzing at the base of the turbolaser grafted onto his right arm. "GonkkkK GEONk", Yorg uttered before pointing the turbolaser at the door. A filthy column of orange plasma spewed from the turbolaser barrel. It had the appearance of the flame from an old industrial furnace. The smell of ozone pervaded the room and the door melted and caved in on itself. The turbolaser's barrel glew red hot, and blobs of superheated metal spattered from its barrel to the floor. Yorg deactivated the weapon and looked down at the hole he had made with what could be interpreted as glee. "GONk!" He said.

Three of the jawas scurried over (Loog still keeping watch over the delivery speeder). As Tralalog approached, he appraised the tunnel and whistled. "If my eyes don't deceive me, your 'friends' have an entire stairway made of Nal Hutta Jade." Tralalog ran his hand over the ruby handrail (hutts engraved at the top) "This is Mustafarian ruby, very rare, very expensive." Without saying anything, Yorg ripped a great chunk of the hand rail from the staircase and tossed it over to the speeder. Loog began picking up the shattered pieces and stowing them in the vehicle. "Enough!" Jaeleno shouted. "Our goal is to find Abercrombie! Follow me." With that, Jaeleno took the lead into the dark pit of Mutsa Wusha's realm.

The stomping of Jaeleno's armor and Yorg's heavy footfalls dominated the enclosed staircase. Jaeleno glanced back at Yorg, who was crushing the jade stairs with each step, and considered himself lucky that the tunnel had been built to Mutsa Wusha's gargantuan dimensions. Speaking of which, Jaeleno felt in the pit of his stomach that the gilded hutt would be down there waiting for them. The four of them neared the bottom of the stairway with no opposition, and Jaeleno noticed there was no music being played, and no sounds of merrymaking coming from the room ahead. Of course, why would there be? They didn't exactly go in quietly.

"That's far enough, honey!" a familiar voice boomed as Jaeleno reached the final step. "So she is here after all", Jaelen thought to himself, unsurprised. "Tell your little friends and their war machine to go back the way they came", the voice of Mutsa Wusha continued. "Or I will blow up that staircase on top of you." Despite the threat, Jaeleno picked up a small amount of concern in the hutt's voice. "What's the matter", he responded, "did you not expect me to retaliate after you took my partner?" Mutsa Wusha gave a tellingly fake laugh before answering. "Ohh, I expected you to do something stupid allright, my little honeysuckle, and you didn't disappoint. I will admit, I have no clue where you got your mercs from, but they are of no consequence. There are 30 guards in here to protect me and my interests. All of them are well trained. Mark my words, you and your little band have no chance." Jaeleno peeked into the larger chamber, and saw that the hutt wasn't lying. Armed guards lined both of the bars, training heavy machine blasters and blaster pistols at the entrance. Even a couple of the aquatic species from the hutt's aquarium were out with rifles. A couple non combative types fled for exits in the back of the room, leaving just the guards and Mutsa Wusha. Jaeleno cursed and pulled back into cover.

"I just want Abercrombie back", Jaeleno said with a rising voice. "If you hand him over, we'll leave in peace." There was an icy silence. Then, Mutsa Wusha answered. "I cannot give him to you, Sobayaki, but you can go on your way regardless."

"That's not going to happen."

"Of course it will"

"What makes you say that?"

A new voice entered the conversation that sent shivers down Jaeleno's spine. "I am the reason for that". The voice had come from the top of the stairway, which prompted all four of them to turn on their heels. Even before he got a look in the dim stairway lighting, Jaeleno knew who it was. Descending down the stairs, holding Loog's neck in a vice grip, was Kringea.

The entire group pointed their weapons at Kringea (although Yorg's turbolaser may have been a bit overkill in the confined space). Jaeleno was the first to address her. "Put down your hostage, and we will not blow your skull open." Kringea laughed, then coughed up a thick blob of orange blood. "Try It", she said. "Fighting will only make your end worse." Jaeleno slid two solid slugs into his scattergun. His arms were shaking slightly underneath the armor. Kringea took another step closer and was illuminated under one of the staircase's overhead lights. She looked terrible. Her back was hunched, her arms were bent, and there were cancerous growths leaking out of punctures in her exoskeleton and eyes. Her mouth was caked with white froth that dribbled onto Loog as she spoke. "I will break this little runt open if you don't leave our property."

Jaeleno felt the exact same feeling he had after the Gooberfish attack. Things were getting out of hand. Everything started to play out in slow motion. Tralalog's eyes dimmed, and his spirit seemed to break instantaneously. Loog had been left to guard the speeder because it was the least dangerous place for him. All things considered, he shouldn't have gone with them, but he had insisted. If Tralalog relented, the other Jawas and Yorg would as well. Jaeleno would be left alone against Mutsa Wusha and her minions.

Then, Jaeleno caught movement from Loog. The little Jawa had gotten one of his hands free and had silently grabbed the handle of the ion launcher concealed in his robes. Jaeleno held his breath and thanked the stars he had a helmet on to conceal his expression. He watched in horror as the jawa got the ion launcher behind his back and raised it just below Kringea's jaw, all without her noticing. Jaeleno was certain it wouldn't do anything but piss Kringea off. "PHTTT", a dense cloud of blue sparks burrowed into Kringea's chin. Jaeleno expected her to break Loog's neck, but, instead blue arcs of electricity started traveling across her body and she fell to the ground spasming. Loog was out of her grasp like a dug on a race track, and he ran over to join Jaeleno by the entrance. "That was really brave of you, good job", Jaeleno said to Loog, and the Jawa looked up at him as if he did not really understand what Jaeleno had said. Then the roof exploded.

Two massive chunks of Jade stairs came tumbling down. Jaeleno reflexively ducked and covered his head (as if it would do anything). However, the impact never came. Jaeleno looked up, and saw Yorg holding the collapsing roof, the hydraulic lines in his legs and arms hissing. "Goooooonk", Yorg said with effort. "Yorg says he can buy us a couple minutes before his power converters overheat!" Shouted Tralalog. They all glanced up the stairs and saw the way they had entered had collapsed. Then, the jade rubble started to shift, and the broken, bloody figure of Kringea emerged … and began running.

It was a terrifying sight. Kringea's legs were both broken, yet she sprinted at full speed, breaking them further. Jaeleno turned to meet her in his dreadfully slow armor, as did all the jawas. Yorg could do nothing but watch as he held up the ceiling. "Shoot that mudscuffer!" Jaeleno practically screamed. He loosed a slug from his scattergun and watched it embed in Kringea's gut. The blood that oozed from the wound immediately thickened into a cancerous growth similar to the others covering her body. Tralalog planted a rifle blast into her shoulder, which threw her arm out of place, but did nothing to stop her. Loog and the two other jawas were firing now, and when the blue sparks from Loog's ion launcher connected with Kringea, she staggered and fell. Now that she was more or less motionless, the entire crew (save Yorg) emptied their magazines into her. Even with her uncanny durability, that was enough to end her. She was now a crispy, shapeless, motionless thing. "I think she's dead", Jaeleno said out of breath. "Only 30 more to go."

From the perspective of Mutsa Wusha and her goons, it was uncertain whether Kringea had finished off the trespassers . They hadn't heard a shot for the last minute or so, and a collection of five guards advanced to the mouth of the main stairway to check things out. A small, metal, spikey ball suddenly rolled out from the stairway to greet them. One of the guards realized what it was too late and had barely shouted "BOMB!" before it detonated and sent rusted nails into three of the five guards, killing them on the spot. Armored figures then emerged from the green jade dust of the entrance.

Jaeleno's panicked respirations were louder than anything outside his helmet. He took aim at a weekquay guard who was swinging his weapon around and pulled the trigger. A solid slug caved in the guard's chest and ripped away his back. Jaeleno quickly fired at a second guard who had the sense to dive for cover behind an overturned table. Jaeleno missed him entirely. That's when the room finally opened up on them. Volleys of blaster fire came from behind the bar stands on either side of the room and carpeted Jaeleno. At least six bolts impacted Jaeleno. Even with the armor, it felt like being punched by a wookie. There was nothing for it though. Jaeleno endured several more blows before he jumped face first into a small fighting pit on the left side of the room. The Jawas did the same on the right. Tralalog tossed another one of his spike grenades, and managed to nail a handful of guards behind the right side bar (also spilling a considerable amount of priceless booze). Jaeleno risked a peak out of the pit, and several bolts zipped past his helmet. Mutsa Wusah was still there, though she was perfectly safe behind her bed's ray shield.

There were roughly ten guards behind the bar to the left, seven on the right, and five in the middle. The guards Tralalog's grenade had just killed had been in the process of setting up a heavy blaster turret, and more rushed in to take their place. Jaeleno slammed the pump of his scattergun, forgetting that he had buckshot loaded in the magazine, and took a quick shot at the turret. The pellets maimed a guard further back in the room and made a mess of several liquor bottles, but did not take out the turret operator. The heavy blaster immediately opened fire, and Jaeleno was knocked back into the fighting pit as the first bolt contacted the top of his head. The heat was unbearable, and the smell of burning rubber filled the helmet, so Jaeleno ripped it off and threw it aside. The top of the helmet now featured a red hot fissure that had fused several of the iron links together However, the bolt had not gone through. Jaeleno felt his head, and was amazed that it was all still there.

"Give up Mr. Sobayaki", Mutsa Wusha shouted from her bed. "You have used up all of your tricks."

. "I'm not leaving until you give me back Abercrombie!" He shouted back.

"I do not have your Abercrombie, you insufferable man! I am giving you a chance to leave in peace. If you don't, it seems you must die!" In response, Jaeleno poked his scattergun over the rim of the fighting pit and blindly shot at the left bar stand. Judging by the pained squeals that erupted after he pulled the trigger, he must have hit something.

"Kill them all!" Mutsa Wusha boomed. Four impact grenade launchers were pulled from under the bar stands and volleys of the high explosives were launched into the fighting pits. Jaeleno dove for his helmet and barely had time to get it on before the grenades detonated. Shrapnel pelted Jaeleno. It felt like hundreds of roundhouse kicks were racking his body, but the armor (however dented and singed it was) kept him alive. Jaeleno clicked a radio in the side of his helm with his nose, and was relieved to hear that the Jawas were also still all alive. However, the stream of impact grenades was unending, and It would only be a matter of time before they were all too battered to fight.

A mighty rumble sounded from the staircase, and a plume of jade dust swept through the entire room. Jaeleno heard the guards coughing, and was thankful that he was no longer being pelted by high explosives. He held up what was left of his scattergun (its wooden stock was all but destroyed), and readied himself to reenter the fight. "GONONONONONON! GNGAONK!" The jade dust had allowed Yorg to charge into the room unmolested, and he made the most of it. He pointed his titanic forearm at the bar on the right side of the room, and smothered it in a column of filthy plasma fire from the turbolaser. The wooden bar stand disintegrated into flame immediately, and the crystal liquor bottles melted, dribbling to the floor. Most of the guard on that side of the room were obliterated, There was no ash, no burn marks, they simply were gone. However, the antique turbolaser finally suffered enough abuse, and a moment before Yorg could turn it on the left hand bar, the barrel melted into a molten glob that ran over his forearm. "Gonk gonk", Yorg said with audible disappointment.

Recovering from their surprise, the guards in the center and along the left bar stand focused fire on Yorg. The small arms fire did little to harm Yorg, but the grenade launchers severed wires and popped hydraulic lines in his limbs. Yorg fell to the ground, leaking light brown oil from his knees and elbows. Jaeleno took this moment to climb out of the fighting pit, and crawl behind an overturned marble table much closer to the bar stand. The jawas were advancing similarly to take cover behind the couches and tables in the center of the room.

The right wall was now completely ablaze, which illuminated the guards. Mutsa Wusha stared at the flames with shock on her face. The ray shields around her bed were starting to show signs of stress in repelling the heat. Jaeleno peeked out from behind the table and was pleased to see that he had a line of sight straight behind the bar stand. He grasped what was left of the scattergun and loosed his last two shells into the now exposed guards. The pellets killed two instantly, and seemed to wound four jawas then opened up on the guards in the center of the room, and were able to dispatch three of them.

Jaeleno felt around his dented armor for a sidearm. It had been in a hoster along his left hip, but neither the hoster, nor the weapon remained. Jaeleno cursed and realized it must have been blasted off in the fighting pit. He began crawling back to his previous position, taking blaster fire from the guards who had been made painfully aware of his position. As Jaeleno approached the fighting pit, he realized it wasn't empty. The guard who Jaeleno had missed when they first began fighting now cowered in it. When he saw Jaeleno approaching, he put up his hands and started crying. "Please, Please don't kill me!" He said. "I'm just here to work off my debt to the hutt!" The guard tossed away his weapon, and upon closer inspection, Jaeleno recognized him. It was the same brown haired cashier Jaeleno had talked to several days before.

The rush of the moment drained from Jaeleno. These guards were people, no matter how foul some of them might be. He picked up the cashier's sidearm, an expensive rodian pistol, and looked over the man. Jaeleno pointed to the remaining guards. "How many of those guys are also fighting to pay off their debts?" The cashier blinked several times as if he was struggling to decipher what Jaeleno was saying. Then, he suddenly seemed to get the idea. "Almost all of us", he said. I think you guys have already killed most of Mutsa Wusha's loyal servants.

"You've killed most of them", Jaeleno thought to himself and struggled against the urge to be sick in his helmet. He had to end this. Jaeleno turned back to the edge of the fighting pit and started shouting over the chaos of the battle.

"Everyone, Stop shooting!" He shouted. The jawas were the first to react, pulling back into cover and taking the time to cycle in fresh magazines. The guards were slower to respond, but as Jaeleno kept shouting, the blaster fire from the bar stands died down. "Are you really willing to lay down your lives for this hutt?" Jaeleno said. "Or are you fighting out of fear for what she would do to you if you don't? If you all stand down, no harm will come to you from us, and I will ensure that Mutsa Wusha won't hurt you. You have my word." A wave of uncertainty spread through the guards. Some exchanged words, some glanced between Jaeleno's party, then to Mutsa Wusha. In the relative silence, Jaeleno could hear the crying of wounded over the burning liquor and it sent shivers down his spine. This was his doing, and he doubted he was ever going to forget it.

Then it happened. A single guard dropped his blaster, then another. Soon, the entire room echoed with the sound of abandoned weapons. Of course, Mutsa Wusha didn't like this. "Defend me, filth!" she boomed. "Your lives will come to a much worse end if you abandon me! I will send the best bounty hunters in the galaxy to find you and bring me your spines! Do you hear me!" The guards cowered at her words as if she had lashed them with a whip. Some bent down to pick up their weapons again. "Wait!" Jaeleno bellowed. "Did I not just promise you that no harm will come to you at the hands of this hutt! If you stand aside, there will be no need to watch your back for her assassins. You all will be free."

"Ohh, and how are you going to do that Mr. Sobyaki?" Mutsa Wusha interjected. "Are you going to kill me?, Huh? Well, hear this, farmer. You cannot kill a hutt. My brethren will come for you if you lay but a finger on me. Many of my relatives are not as merciful as I. HUH! HUH! HUH! And that is not all, my honeysuckle. Tell me, do you think it odd that an operation as large as mine could have flourished so close to the capitol? Do you think it odd that captain Ghaghikh has not found me out yet? It is because I am worth more to the New Republic than every other wretch on this planet. My share of cartel freighters keeps New Republic worlds fed and supplied. Do you understand? The New Republic barely has enough money to maintain their own merchant fleet, so they contracted it out to myself and my kin! Without me, our contract would be void, and those planets would starve. I am not some hopeless distributor like yourself, Jaeleno. I own this planet, and you would be wise to back the kruggg off!"

"You finished?" Jaeleno said in a growling voice. "For an operation that claims to be so powerful, your defenses fell pretty fast, and I've spent enough time bullshitting people to know when they are bullshitting me. Now that I think of it, has your operation actually done any fighting or do you just rely on intimidation and knives in the dark?" There was a pause, and when Jaeleno resumed his voice took on a darker tone. "You're afraid, aren't you? I can feel that in my gut. You didn't expect me to fight back, and now that I'm here, you are terrified. Let me tell you, I've bartered for my life several times before, so let me give you some advice. Threatening people sure ain't the way to go about it." Jaeleno turned to address the guards. "You all can go. Any blame from the hutt cartel will fall on my shoulders, not yours. Don't throw your lifes away (pointing at Mutsa Wusha) for this… this thing."

There was a charged moment of silence, then the guards began dispersing. They picked up their wounded, holstered their weapons, and all began filtering out through doors in the rear of the room. Mutsa Wusha looked around at her dispersing guards and went pale. Jaeleno turned around and saw the cashier was still in the fighting pit with him. "How do you intend to keep Mutsa Wusha from killing us?" He asked. "Peacefully if I can", Jaeleno responded. He then shrugged with the blaster pistol in his hand. "Violently if I can't."

Loog and Tralalog administered aid to Yorg while the other two Jawas kept watch. Behind them, the fire engulfing the right side bar had nearly reached the ceiling. Jaeleno slowly marched towards Mutsa Wusha's shielded bed, and looked up at her through his helmet. She was sweating hard, and she beheld him with dilated, fearful pupils. "Are you looking for a ransom?" she asked plainly. "No", Jaeleno responded, "I'm looking for Abercrombie." Mutsa Wusha shook her gargantuan head. "I don't know where he is. He escaped his cage, and my people weren't able to find him."

"I don't buy that for a second", Jaeleno said, rage building in his voice. "WHERE IS HE?!"

"I told you I do not know. How hard is it to get that information through your thick skull?"

Jaeleno was usually a man to lower the tensions of a situation. However, standing in front of a despicable slug that might have killed his partner broke him, and set out a demon he had never before displayed. "Yorg! I got a job for you!" He shouted. The iron golem looked up and rose to one knee. Tralalog extracted a wrench from Yorg's other leg, and the droid shakily got up. "Gonk Gonk GoonK?" Yorg asked. "Do me a favor and take that ray shield down", Jaeleno said. "GOnK!" Yorg exclaimed, cracking its massive, industrial grade knuckles. "You harm me and you won't live through the month!" Mutsa Wusha shouted from behind the shield. Her voice was shaky and she was turning pale.

Yorg planted his feet, fracturing the ruby floor, and began beating the ray shield like a boxer on the practice bag. The shield fizzled and caved inwards with each punch. After a minute or so of giving the shield hell, Yorg's first passed through. His clawed hand reached up to the velvet bed and grasped Mutsa Wusha by the throat. "Turn off the shield", Jaeleno ordered. Mutsa Wusha clicked a switch hidden into the headdress of the bed, and the shield went down. "I am going to ask you this one last time", Jaeleno said. "Where is Abercrombie?"

"He was in the holding pens", Mutsa Wusha said between gasps. She scratched at her neck and eyed Yorg with fear and loathing. "I'll open it for you." She clicked another switch and the steel door behind her aquarium slid open. "Keep your blasters leveled, and none of you get too close to her '', Jaeleno instructed. "Yorg, see if you can put out the fire with that fish tank." Jaeleno walked over to the now open prison cells. Behind him, Yorg heaved Mutsa Wusha's fish tank from its base and flung it at the burning bar. The fire was quenched in a shower of water, expensive fish, and acrylic.

Jaeleno entered a narrow hallway poorly lit by a couple red lights. If he hadn't been wearing a mask, Jaeleno probably would have wretched at the smell. There were cells lining both sides of the hallway, and they were most certainly full. Various noises emanated from these cells and many different hands grasped the bars as Jaelno went past. It was too dark to see within the cages, and Jaeleno tried activating a flashlight built into his helmet. Of course, it had been shattered in the battle. "Abercrombie! Are you in here?!" Jaeleno shouted. "I'm here! I'm here! I'm here!" Different voices came from all the cells. "The poor bastards must be desperate", thought Jaeleno. "Have any of you seen a lizard monkey, little less than three feet tall? He had a broken translator on him." There was another corus of "Yes he's in here" and "The lizard is with meeeee" as Jaeleno scanned the black cells hopelessly for his partner. A deep, feral roar shook the room, and made the other prisoners go silent. It had come from the back of the hallway, from a cell with bars substantially thicker than the others. The metallic marching of Jaeleno's armor was eerily prominent in the newly made silence. Jaeleno felt his heart beating faster as he neared the cage.

The being inside was tall, at least seven feet, and muscular. It walked towards the thick bars showing deep brown and black fur. Its face moved into the light, showing a scarred upper lip, and intelligent eyes. It was a wookie. "Yruuughh krghha?" The wookie barked. Jaeleno shook his head. "Sorry", he said, "I don't speak your language."

"You should take the time to learn", said a staticy, robotic voice from deeper in the cell. A small shape descended from a cot and stepped into the light. "They really are fine people", said Abercrombie.

The Sacking of Paradise

Jaeleno took off his helmet exposing the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. "Thank the stars, the angels, and the force you're alive", Jaeleno said in a quivering voice. "I am so, so very sorry I got you into this." Abercrombie was taken aback. Not only because Jaeleno's face was bruised and his nose was bleeding, but beause of the sincerity in his voice. Abercrombie had expected Jaeleno to say something like, "See, I always have everything under control", but not in this case. Here, Jaeleno seemed to be genuinely sorry. Abercrombie tapped at his newly fixed translator until the static cleared then addressed Jaeleno. "You have nothing to be sorry for", he said, "We all make mistakes, and you came back to correct yours. Thank you. Thank you for saving me." Jaeleno smiled, a broad, genuine smile that seemed to light up the oppressive hallway, and Abercrombie couldn't help but return it.

"Where are my manners?"Abercrombie continued. "This is Fifa, she fixed my translator and helped keep me hidden while I was trapped in here." The wookie bowed her head. Jaeleno returned the gesture and thanked her profusely. Abercrombie then scampered over to the cell's cott and reached under the mattress. While he had been stuck in this abominable spa, Abercrombie had been able to swipe two priority access I.D. cards from the guards, and he had developed a good idea about where they could be used. "What do you have there?" Jaeleno asked as Abercrombie walked back into the light and squeezed between the bars. "Our ticket into Mutsa Wusha's storerooms", Abercrombie answered. "I've been doing some eavesdropping, and pickpocketing. There should be two saferooms down here. Shouldn't be hard to find them."

"You've been busy", Jaeleno chuckled. "As have you", Abercrombie responded. "I take it the Jawas made that armor?"

"They did. It saved my life."

"Just barely. You look like hell"

"Yeah, I feel like hell. Let's hope there's enough credits down here to buy a bacta tank, huh?"

"I'm sure there will be a lot more than that."

Abercrombie jumped onto the security console at the end of the hallway and pressed a button. Nothing happened. "Grahahha Nrgghgh?" Fifa whimpered. Abercrombie cursed. "I feared as much", he said. "The guards must have triggered a total lockdown when you guys busted in. It's beyond my skill to override it." Jaelno looked at the cells with concern. "No offense to Fifa, but how do we know these prisoners won't turn on us once they are released?"

"We don't", responded Abercrombie, "But they are no friends of Mutsa Wusha, and I feel like that's a positive in our situation."

"I'll have one of the Jawas take a look at it."

Jaeleno and Abercrombie walked around the now empty fish tank stand, into the main room. Upon seeing Abercrombie, the jawas all gave out a cheer and Yorg gonked happily. Mutsa Wusha said nothing and stared daggers at them. Abercrmombie ignored the hutt and had a brief, non-translator mediated chat with Tralalog. The old timer nodded as they spoke, and issued a command to Yorg. The droid walked over to the burnt out bar stand, and Tralalog walked over to the prison cells. "What are you doing?" Mutsa Wusha asked with concern. None of them answered her. Yorg plowed through the ashen remains of the right hand bar and sunk his steel claws into the wall. With a heave, he ripped a large section of the ruby wall away, exposing a safe nearly as tall as a man. Jaeleno whistled. "That looks important", he said in a matter of fact sort of way.

Yorg grasped the safe's door by the edge and peeled it off like a kid playing with stickers. He then marched off to the other side of the room and repeated the process there. "You have no right…", Mutsa Wusha began, but a warning shot at the base of the bed shut her up. Jaeleno and Abercrombie walked inside, and a smile spread across both their faces. Heavy silk bags of new republic credits lined the safe's wall. In the center, solid bricks of precious metals stood stacked like glistening monoliths. There was Corellian platinum, ultra refined chromium, various rare conductors, vescar, and a mysterious case sitting on top. Abercrombie opened this case with a keycard, revealing a pile of multi-colored crystals that seemed to shine with their own light. Tralalog walked over and took in the scene silently. The old Jawa held some sort of simple remote in his hand. "The poor souls in those cells will be released once I click this here", he said, jiggling the remote in his hand. Jaeleno nodded. "Have any idea what these are?" he asked, showing Tralalog the case. "Bless my whiskers", Tralalog exclaimed, and his eyes seemed to visibility light up. "Those are Kyber crystals! In all my years, I've never seen one in person."

"I imagine they're valuable?" inquired Jaeleno. "Immensely." A smile had spread to Tralalog's face as well. "You could buy your own planet with that!"

"I think you mean 'we' could buy our own planet with that", Jaeleno said. "Do you think your boys could help us carry this stuff up to the speeder?"

"Gladly."

"Bang, Bang Bang." The door to the other safe went skidding across the floor as Yorg tore it open. In this safe, there was only one object, an ornate dragonbone filing cabinet that stood about waist high. Abercrombie felt the lock on the cabinet and tried one of his sequestered keycards. Nothing happened. He switched cards and the file cabinet opened. Inside were various papers which Abercrombie briefly skimmed through. As he did so, he began chuckling to himself. "Anything good?" Jaeleno asked. "Depends on if we are willing to use them or not", Abercrombie answered. "Let's see. There's trade records, income rates at the breaking yards - looks like there was money laundering going on there, lots of names, a couple test tubes of some red liquid … have no idea what that is. Hello, what have we here?" Abercrombie had reached the final shelf of the cabinet, and was now paging through formal documents that bore the New Republic crest. "This must be how Mutsa Wusha keeps her leverage over the capital politicians", said Abercrombie. "That hutt had dirt on a lot of people down here. Even senator Organa has a file. Looks like it's a transcription of an old Rebel holotape."

"We might as well take it as protection from Wusha." Jaeleno said. "We can feed her this stuff back if she promises to play nice." Abercrombie began snickering again. "What?" Jaeleno asked in good humor. Abercrombie struggled to answer over his sudden wave of laughter. "It… It's just… so ironic that we come across this stuff like three days after Vivian bails on us. Patience is a virtue isn't it! HAahahah!"

"Huh, I suppose that is ironic." Jaeleno didn't know if it was just the sudden, massive relief of stress, or if it was actually funny, but he laughed along with Abercrombie for a long while.

By the time Jaeleno and Abercrombie carted the filing cabinet into the main room, Yorg was already in the process of clearing the collapsed stairwell back up to the garage. Tralalog and Loog had also been busy tearing apart the bar stands to create makeshift crates for the loot. They had worked fast. Three freshly built crates were already filled to the brim with precious metals and credits. On top of one of these glistening piles was the ray shield they had pried from Mutsa Wusha's bed. The hutt watched this occur with absolute contempt. "Was this all an elaborate plan to rob me blind?" She hissed. Jaeleno chuckled again. "No, but I'm willing to roll with it", he responded.

Tralalog walked back from the stairwell cradling his remote delicately. He seemed concerned. "We have a couple problems, Jaeleno", he said. "Yorg wasn't able to find the Mimban's body."

"Karrablast", Jaeleno cursed. That ruined the levity fast.

"You ran into Kringea?" Abercrombie asked. "I though you guys made it this far because she wasn't here!"

"You knew that thing?" Tralalog said with surprise. Jaeleno nodded. "Yeah, and she knew us well enough that her not being dead is a problem."

"Nothing could have survived what we did to that thing", Tralalog muttered to himself, "Nothing!"

"Oh no!" Abercrombie's blood ran cold. He had forgotten what the quarren guard had said about Yafu. "I'm such an idiot!" Abercrombie exclaimed. "Mutsa Wusha sent Kringea to capture Yafu. I heard a guard talking about it. But Yafu would have recognized us if he was imprisoned here." Jaelno's face soured behind his mask. "Let's have a chat with our slimy friend", he growled.

"Hey hutt, where is Yafu Malik?" Jaeleno shouted.

"Yafu? I'm insulted that you would think I'd stoop so low as to bother with him." She scoffed.

"That's a sodding lie", Abercrombie said. He was hissing behind his translator. Slowly, purposely, Jaelno got out his blaster. He raised it, turned off the safety, and calmly shot Mutsa Wusha's belly. The blaster bolt burrowed deep into her and fried her flesh a light gray around the entry wound. Mucous and green blood boiled out of the freshly made hole. "You barbarian!" Mutsa Wusha howled. "I'll have you killed for that!" Jaeleno took the threat silently and looked up at the hutt for a couple moments. This must have been a new experience for her. Jaeleno shot her again.

This time, the blaster bolt penetrated at an angle along her tail, leaving a long sizzling gash. "Stop! Stop!" Mutsa Wusha screamed. "Yafu Malik turned himself in to the capitol police after the breaking Yards explosion. I thought you knew! I thought he was going to compromise my operation as a way to spite me before he died."

"What do you mean 'before he died' Jaeleno asked through his clenched teeth."

"How well did you even know this guy!"Mutsa Wusha exclaimed. Her breathing was now becoming labored. "His implants were killing him. He barely had a year to live."

"That's true" Abercrombie said, "He told me when we were at the beach. "

"So where is he now?!", Jaeleno boomed, leveling his pistol at Mutsa Wusha again. He had never taken such a violent tone before in his life.

"Don't shoot!" Mutsa Wusha screamed. She was hyperventilating, and viscous, green blood was soaking through her expensive velvet bed. "You struck me as a man of your word, Jaeleno Sobayaki. Swear that you will not harm me, and I will tell you everything else I know."

"Deal", Jaeleno said and holstered his weapon.

"One of the precinct's officers owed me money", Mutsa Wusha began. "Kringea used him to access Yafu Malik's cell. He was supposed to be alone!"

"What does that mean!" Jaeleno shouted. "It means that things got out of hand!", Mutsa Wusha answered frantically. "There was another officer there who shot Kringea. I lost control of her after that. She disobeyed my orders!" There was a pause. "If it's a consolation, Yafu died quickly."

Jaeleno heard his heart beating in his ears. He could see Mutsa wusha's lips still moving, but no sound reached him, only the 'THUMP, THUMP' of rage coursing through his veins. Yafu had been his first major customer, and, over time, had become a close friend and advisor. For all Yafu's behavioral shortcomings, and disgusting appearance, Jaeleno had been fond of him. "Yafu Malik deserved better." Jaeleno's delivery of that sentence sent a chill down the spine of everyone in the room. Even Abercrombie looked at him with concern. Jaeleno then walked up to the hutt until he was standing at the foot of her bed. He could smell the blood, an odd bouquet of iron and pungent sweetness. Jaeleno took off his helmet, and started Mutsa Wusha in the eyes. Despite her towering over him, Mutsa Wusha cowered under that gaze. "You said if I laid so much as a finger on you, I'd be a dead man, so this situation really can't get much worse for me." Mutsa licked her dry lips. "You promised not to hurt me any more." Jaeleno laughed. It was a cold, dead sound. "I did, didn't I. Very well. Good day and good bye, Mutsa Wusha. Jaeleno turned around and began walking towards Abercrombie and the Jawas. "Let's go", he said.

"What about the prisoners?", Tralalog asked as he fell in behind Jaeleno. "Shall I release them now?"

"Not yet", Jaeleno answered. "We have a couple things to do before involving them."

Jaeleno approached Yorg (who had just finished clearing the debris from the stairs and had started carting the goods back up to the speeder). The iron golem put down its wooden crates of treasure and addressed Jaeleno with a curios "Gonk?".

"You know, when I was young, my father raised porgs", Jaeleno said to nobody in particular. "They were a risky investment, and my father spent three year's salary on them, but they produced eggs life nothing else. We were quickly en route to breaking even for purchasing them. Unfortunately, a month after we bought them, a fox broke into their enclosure and killed a couple. My dad told me to deal with it, so I laid out a snare trap. It took a while, but I caught it. The poor fox was shivering and squealing. I couldn't finish it off. I cut it loose and watched it scamper off into the woods. The next day, I went out to feed the porgs again. They were dead, all of them. The fox had come back and ripped out all their throats."

" I showed it mercy, but all it remembered was the pain of the snare trap." He was silent for a chilling second. "My father and I nearly went hungry that winter". Jaeleno looked up at Yorg. "Could you do me a favor", he asked. He casually pointed at Mutsa Wusha. "She is our fox, and we can't have her coming back.." The sensors on Yorg's head dimmed to a dark red. He flexed his clawed hands and the hydraulics in his arms whirred as if changing gears. "GNK! GNK! GNK!" He sounded off with glee and stomped over to the hutt. Jaeleno started climbing up the fractured staircase, twirling a kyber crystal between his fingers. He had no intention of watching things unfold, hearing it would suffice. Mutsa Wusha's voice echoed up the staircase. She was saying something desperate to the droid, whether it was a bribe or a threat didn't matter. Her voice then rose to a deafening, primal cry, like a large animal being dragged to a slaughter pen. There were other noises too. Violent, wet, bloody noises that Jaeleno paid no heed to. Once it went quiet, Jaeleno turned to a stunned Abercrombie. "Tell Tralalog to release the prisoners", he said. "We'll need their help burning the body".

A Bystander No More

(Mauritius Heavy Equipment - Bamptha Run)

"A devastating fire consumed the suburban spa, Wusha's Paradise yesterday", crackled the grease caked news transmitter in the corner of Dakquanz's repair shop. "Hey Valentine! I thought this was a music channel!", Daquanz shouted from underneath a dysfunctional skiff speeder. "This is a music channel!" Valentine shouted back. "They're playing this everywhere." Dakquanz wiped his hands on a paper towel and climbed out from underneath the skiff. "I don't think her repulsor is the problem", he said, gesturing to the skiff. "Let's take a break then check her power assembly."

Dakquanz exited the garage and welcomed the rush of heat against his chilled bones as he walked into his office. There, he activated a slightly less dirty transmitter hoping to catch some music. "... Wusha was a community philanthropist, and police have yet to confirm the cause of death", the transmitter said. Dakquanz shut it off and pulled a cold jerky stick from his office's cooler. He sat down behind a cheap plastic desk and looked over the month's tab. Mauritius Heavy Repair was finally back on its feet. Selling the juggernaut had given the shop enough surplus cash to overhaul the garage to fit small spacecraft, and to hire back some of the old mine workers. Since then, they had been making a steady profit. It didn't rake in as many credits as the mine, but there was room to grow from here.

The building's front doorbell rang, and Dakquanz got up from his desk. He might just have enough staff now to take on another repair job. Hopefully the person at the door had a small project for them. As Dakquanz approached the front door, he skimmed over a coat rack for something relatively clean to wear. He settled on a frizzled, gray sweater and put it on before opening the door. When it opened, it wasn't a customer standing along main street.

It was an old, brown scaled transdocian wearing a police officer's uniform. "Hello, I'm captain Ghaghikh Lghghagh of the capitol precinct", the transdocian said, showing a badge. "May I come in?".

"Certainly", Dakquanz said automatically. He had a sinking feeling that he knew why the officer was here. "There's a conference room down the hall on the left, Daqaunz said as he led Ghaghikh further into the shop. I'll get my associate and we can talk there. Can I get you anything. Coffee maybe?" Gghaghikh shook his head. "No, I don't think I'll be staying long", he said. Dakquanz nodded and tried to keep a casual pace as he walked towards the garage to fetch Valentine.

"I told you this would happen", Valentine shouted, reverting to some ugly sounding geonosian curses. "There's nothing for us to do except tell the truth here." Dakquanz looked over his shoulder to the garage entrance. He didn't see the transdocian, and he prayed the officer couldn't hear them. "Listen", he said, "We've sold off a couple smaller juggernauts in the past, and I can produce the paperwork for them. As long as we don't draw attention to ourselves, the officer will be on his way in no time." Valentine shook his head and followed Dakquanz back into the conference room.

"Sorry about that delay", Dakquanz said as he opened the door to the conference room. "This is my associate." Valentine bowed his head towards the officer in greeting. Ghaghikh had been glowering at a police transmitter when they had entered, but he quickly put it away and cleared his throat as they entered. He produced several picture slides from his jacket pocket. "I know you two are busy, so I'll put this bluntly", he began. "Last week, a star destroyer exploded in the Seinar breaking yards. My officers have been working on gathering possible suspects, and I've encountered a lead that involves your business." Dakquanz felt his heart speed up and a shiver spread down his spine. Ghaghikh's pupils narrowed. He had noticed this.

Valentine stepped in and saved Dakquanz from the officer's close scrutiny. "What is the lead?" He asked. Ghaghikh's pupils dilated as he turned to address Valentine. "An industrial grade juggernaut fled the destroyer briefly before the explosion. It was an older, more expensive model. One that the Seinar family denies ever having used at their breaking yards.

"Do you believe them?" Valentine asked. Ghaghikh's pupils narrowed again. Valentine was cold blooded, and it was frustratingly hard to get a read on him. Dakquanz, on the other hand, was already singing with mammalian signs of stress.

Ghaghikh turned over to Dakquanz and addressed him directly. "One of the suspects turned himself in recently. He claims that his associates purchased an industrial grade juggernaut that originated from this shop. I was wondering if you have anything to add to this development. Dakquanz swallowed. "We've sold juggernauts out of this location in the past, he said. They were surplus from the Mauritius Mining Company, my parent's company, that went under a couple years ago." Ghaghikh nodded and procured a notepad. As he began transcribing what Dakquanz had said, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a warrant. "May I take a look at your records regarding those purchases?" He asked calmly.

Dakquanz's hands were shaking badly as he pulled a cardboard filing box from a shelf in his office. He was keenly aware of Ghaghikh watching him as he paged through transaction summaries. He found the documents describing the two juggernauts he had sold legally during the past couple years and handed them to the officer. Ghaghikh paged through the documents and looked back up at Dakquanz with those unnerving, slit-like eyes. "Both of these juggernauts are post Empire models. They don't fit the description of the vehicle present at the breaking yards. Are you sure these are the only two you sold? Dakquanzed was sweating, when he sold the last juggernaut, he had been so proud. He thought it had been the break the company needed to get back on track. Now, he was face to face with the consequence of his naivety. "No", Dakquanz said in a sigh. "I sold a pre empire industrial grade juggernaut to a woman last month. I don't have any paperwork to show for it."

Ghaghikh scrutinized the man in front of him. All the biological markers indicated Dakquanz was telling the truth. "You do realize that selling heavy machinery off record is illegal on this planet?" Ghaghikh said. Dakquanz nodded. He couldn't make eye contact with the officer. "Sir", he began, "I needed the money. I was watching everything my family worked to build bleed away through my fingers, it was a stupid decision in the heat of desperation. Please, I…"

Ghaghikh raised his hand, prompting Dakquanz to stop. "Son", Ghaghikh said softly, I said it was illegal, I didn't say I was going to report it. If you describe the woman you sold this vehicle to, we can forget about charges. Dakquanz nodded and tried to regain some of his composure. Part of him wanted to start crying from the overwhelming relief of it all. "Well, she was a Twi'lek with blue skin", he began.

Hokey Religions and Ancient Weapons

(Hotel Bordeou, Chandrillain Capitol)

Vivian viewed herself in her hotel room's bathroom mirror. A light green face looked back. Piled in the bathtub next to her were boxes upon boxes of empty model paints along with empty bottles of hunting grade deodorizer. Vivian had spent the better part of three hours fully applying the stuff, and was approaching her fourth hour waiting for it to dry. In the bedroom was a plastic shopping bag containing an old cloak she bought at a thrift store, a bronze piece of pipe she obtained at a hardware store, and a soldering iron she had obtained from a tech shop. Next to it was the empty packaging for a tiny, ludicrously expensive medical grade tractor beam system. Getting all of this stuff while staying undetected had proved challenging beyond belief. Vivian had spent the last couple sleepless nights monitoring streetway security footage and discreetly obscuring images of herself that looked detailed enough to be compromising. The automated security measures she had broken through to do so had been far more sophisticated than anything she had run into amongst the loyalist remnants. Part of her worried that she had somehow missed a step, and that the city's cyber security personnel were onto her. It was a job that should have taken weeks, maybe months, to do correctly but time was no longer a luxury she had.

Admiral Maximillian had excused her from intel gathering duties at the capitol party, instead, she was on a tight schedule to shut up Yafu Malik. Vivian had been probing the capitol police station's transmitter chatter and she was certain Yafu was being held there. A peculiar silence in intra-structural communications had appeared in the precinct's detention wing, as if the officers had something important stationed there that they didn't want slicers to know about. The silence was a deafening indicator that Yafu (or someone of importance) was being held on site.

A timer went off next to the bathroom sink and Vivian set her arms against her side. They were stiff and burning from being held away from her body so long, but the result was worth it. Vivian had done a thorough job with her new disguise, she had painted herself a solid green with no distinct markings. The anaconda pattern running down her tails was gone, as was the birthmark on her chin. She could feel the oily deodorizer on her skin even through the paint and decided, she would need to obscure it with a more common perfume. She didn't want to take a chance at Ghaghikh recognizing a more dedicated anti odor agent.

She went to the robe and applied a generous amount of perfume, a cheap sullustan made brand. Vivan had taken special care to buy something that originated off-world, but it had still been worryingly abundant at the public markets. As for the cloak, it was bantha wool, incredibly itchy and uncomfortable. Still, it was a convincing part of her new disguise. "Now for the final screw in the starship", Vivian muttered to herself as she pulled out the bronze pipe and set it on the hotel's tiny kitchen table. She placed the soldering iron next to it, rubbed her eyes, and sighed. She doubted there'd be time for sleep, there was just so much left to do…

"All available units, Report to the precinct! We are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack!"

Vivian's head bolted up from where it had been resting on the kitchen table and she instinctively drew her blaster pistol at the police scanner. She was still alone. The scanner showed that it was 9:00 at night. She had only been out for a couple hours. Vivian then looked down and swore. The soldering iron had still been on when she had fallen asleep, and it had burnt a hole in the kitchen table. "You're getting sloppy", she said to herself as she quickly turned the iron off and got a glass of water from the table. Starting a hotel fire was pretty far down on her list of objectives. "... Extensive damage to the detention wing… multiple fatalities" the police scanner continued. Vivian sighed "It's now or never."

…

The bright morning sun stung Vivian's sleep deprived eyes as it filtered between the skyscrapers. She pulled her wool cloak over her head and continued along. A shiver crawled down her back. It was brutally cold out, and the old cloak barely served its purpose keeping her warm. She flexed her left hand and grit her teeth as a line of stitches stretched and bent. She looked down at her wrist and was reassured that nothing was visible. She had done good work considering the limited time she had available.

The disguise made Vivian stand out more than she would have normally liked. She looked like a homeless woman when compared to the business types and tourists roaming about the capitol, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. She could feel glances boring into her back as she passed along the sidewalk.

The precinct was nestled between two large, chrome skyscrapers. It was comparably unimpressive, being only three stories tall and made of old brown brick. However, a section of the building's front face was composed of a newer, lighter material. Vivian assumed this sections had been replaced when the imperial insignia had been removed from the building. By the looks of things, that would not be the last of the building in need of remodeling. A parking lot stretched along the left side of the structure. Police tape was applied liberally around the lot, and a wooden traffic stopper had been set up at the entrance. There was an abundance of officers and detectives milling about the area. Vivian walked further down the block to get a better look. There was notable damage at the back of the lot. The precinct's heavy brick wall had been ripped open, as if an armor piercing shell had been launched from inside. The parking lot was littered with crumbled bricks, and… (Vivian squinted to get a better look) what appeared to be orange blood.

A lightly armored police speeder emerged from one of the westbound roads and parked along the gutter next to the precinct. An overweight, brown scaled transdocian emerged and asked for a status update from a tall, muscular ithorian. "So that's Ghaghikh and his lieutenant", noted Vivian. Entering an active crime scene was hardly a risk free move, but Vivian made it anyway. She crossed the street and took several long, deep breaths to steady her heart rate. By the time she was on the sidewalk next to the precinct, she was fully prepared to commit to her new character.

A young human officer approached her from the traffic stop. "That's far enough, miss", he said through the scarf around his chin. "This is an active crime scene". Vivian looked up at the officer from under her hood, the practiced ease of impersonation was returning to her. "I am Jedi knight Alida Rospas. I am here to speak with captain Ghaghikh Lghghagh?" The officer looked puzzled. "You're a what?" He asked.

Vivian didn't need to elaborate. As she had anticipated, Ghaghikh had overheard them and was already walking over. It was always hard to read the faces of non mammalian humanoids, and transdocians were no exception. Vivian speculated that Ghaghikh's mental state ranged between anger and nervousness as she examined his expression. "You can go back to your post, deputy", he said to the young officer. "I'll handle this." Ghaghikh extended his arm in a handshake and Vivian returned it. "Captain Ghaghikh Lghghagh", he said with a flat face. "Alida Rospas", Vivian said with a well practiced, inviting smile. Ghaghikh frowned. "Forgive my lack of pomp, it's been a while since I've seen a Jedi." Vivian could read the message behind that statement. Ghaghikh didn't want her here, he was skeptical, and he wanted to know what she was doing. "Trust me, captain", she began, "I take your lack of pomp as a favor. Do we have a place to talk in private?"

"We do", Ghaghikh responded bluntly and began walking towards the undamaged side of the precinct. The cops, detectives, and paramedics situated around the site gave Vivian sideways glances as she trailed behind Ghaghikh. They entered the front door of the precinct and Ghaghikh nodded to a deputy behind a blast proof window. "Scan this one please", he said, and an array of sensor beams scrolled up and down Vivian. "Mahm, you are not allowed to bring weapons in here", the deputy behind the glass said. Vivian thought he sounded nervous. As she pulled back her robe at the waist, showing her belt, Ghaghikh's fingers inched closer to his holster. Vivian smiled at the deputy and handed over her 'weapon'. It was a highly pressurized acetylene torch hidden within a length of copper tubing, a clear downgrade over most sidearms. However, Vivian had customized the exterior of the torch with rows of accessory wires, a steel nozzle, and a silver switch near the bottom. To everybody short of an actual Jedi, it looked like a lightsaber. "Be careful where you touch this", Vivian said with a put on air of importance, "It doesn't have a safety." A chrome shelf extended from below the window, and vivian gently placed the 'lightsaber' into it. The shelf retracted and the deputy buzzed them through. The heavy magnetic locks slammed open with a "CLICK" and Vivian followed Ghaghikh further into the precinct.

Ghaghikh Lghghagh was distinctly aware of his breathing. In, out, then in again. Focusing on small, insignificant details like that was a tactic he had learned long ago. It prevented force sensitives from homing in on one's more sensitive thoughts and motives. Jedi. Ghaghikh had not heard that word said out loud for nearly 40 years. Now, he was leading one straight into his precinct. She was wearing too much perfume, some exotic off world brand. Ghaghikh couldn't pick up the scent of a force user on her. Perhaps that was the point. He led the woman on for a while, carefully avoiding the damaged detention wing. He then opened a steel door leading into an observation chamber along one of the interrogation rooms, and gestured for Alida to follow him in. Once they were both inside, he locked the door.

"Do you prefer knight, master, sifu…", Ghaghikh began. "Alida is fine", the jedi interrupted. There was annoyance in her voice. Ghaghikh wasn't having it. "Listen to me closely, Alida. This has been one of the worst weeks in this precinct's history. I barely have the time to do my job, so you might forgive me for placing the whims of a jedi fairly low on my to do list. I am willing to hear you out, but you are neither a god I need to kowtow to nor a federal agent I need to follow. Know that whatever power you have here is what I give you, nothing more.

Alida nodded and gave a short shrug. "I did not come here to boss you around, captain. Honestly, I shouldn't be here at all. Master Skywalker has forbidden all but his most experienced students from attending matters outside the Jedi academy. I am not one of these students, not anymore. I came here because I was sick of sitting on the sidelines." Ghaghikh's pupils narrowed as he scanned the Jedi's body heat and expression for signs of dishonesty. He found none. She seemed to be fully earnest in her dealings with him. Her use of the name Skywalker also had authority to it. Few enough people knew that Jedi still existed, fewer still knew that the war hero Luke Skywalker was one. Ghaghikh understood Alida's message. She was posturing, showing that she was the real deal. "How do you want to help us?" Ghaghikh asked cautiously. Alida looked around the room. "Are you certain this place is secure?" Ghaghikh nodded. "As secure as you'll get in this city."

The Jedi looked at him with a dead serious expression. "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room", she said. "Yeah, we'll see about that", Ghaghikh thought to himself. Alida raised an eyebrow. Ghaghikh began focusing on his breathing again. Had she heard him? If so, what else did she already know? Ghaghikh pictured Naveen in the break room. That had been where he had left her. Was that why the Jedi was here? "Hello? Are you still with me, Captain?" Alida asked, snapping her fingers. Ghaghikh blinked and focused back on her. "What do you have to say, Alida?"

"Do you know what a premonition is, captain?" she said. Ghaghikh nodded. "Is that why you are here? Because you saw something that was going to happen?" Alida looked up at him silently. There was a tinge of excitement in her expression. It was subtle, too subtle for a human to pick up, but Ghaghikh saw it. "What I'm about to tell you I have told nobody else, not even Master Luke", she said. "I've been having very specific visions. There's another Twi'lek on Chandrila, one I think I'm supposed to confront. I've seen her over and over again in my dreams. She's blue, has black splotches running down her tails, and has a crescent shaped birthmark on her chin. For weeks, I've had visions of this girl putting a blaster to chancellor Mothma's head.

Ghaghikh had already pulled out a notepad and was vigorously scribbling out what Alida had said. Her description of a Twi'lek girl matched the descriptions he had gotten from Dakquanz and Yafu perfectly. "If the chancellor's life is in danger, isn't Skywalker doing anything about it?" Ghaghikh asked. "Why are you here instead of him?" Alida took a breath and Ghaghikh noticed the ever so tiny expression of nervousness in her face. His eyes narrowed to slits as he focused every fiber of his concentration on the woman. He could hear her breathing, feel her heartbeat through the floor, sense heat bleed from her body. If there was an ounce of dishonesty within her, he would catch it. "I often saw Master Skywalker in these dreams", she began. "It always felt like he did things right, found the woman quickly, but…" (She paused).

"But what?" Ghaghikh interjected.

"Every time Master Skywalker got involved, the woman pulled the trigger.

A gifted officer

(Capitol Precinct)

Naveen sat on the edge of a wooden stool in the break room. She was clutching a transmitter so tightly that her knuckles were turning yellow. She had just contacted her mother on Mirial, and had insisted everything was all right. She didn't want her mother coming over to the capital, not when it was getting so dangerous. Besides, telling someone else that everything was ok gave Naveen a fleeting sense that everything was. That, of course, was a lie. Technically she should have been in an interrogation room. She was the only witness to the murder of Smithee and Yafu, yet Ghaghikh had insisted she didn't require such harsh treatment. She appreciated that, but things had gotten so much worse for her since last night. Naveen still didn't understand what she had done. One moment Kringea was there ready to kill her, the other, she was gone and a hole had been punched through the wall. That wasn't the end of it. She had tried to save Yafu, but there was nothing that could have been done. His entire chest had been caved in! Since then, Naveen's hands hadn't stopped shaking. She still felt like they were covered in blood.

Officer Smithee's family had been contacted about his death, but they hadn't been allowed to pick up the body. The medical examiner and detectives were still hanging on to it. Naveen could hear the family outside, a wife and a daughter, arguing with the officers on guard to be let in. Naveen's trembling hands dropped the transmitter and she curled them into fists to try and stop the shaking. Once again, she didn't know how she had saved herself from Kringea, but she hated herself that she had not been able to do it sooner. If she had, Yafu and Smithee would still be alive.

"How are you holding up kid?" Ghaghikh asked from behind Naveen, startling her. The old transdocian closed the door to the break room and handed her a bottle of water. He pulled up another stool beside her. "Do you think you're ready to talk about what happened again?" Naveen nodded. "Just start from the beginning and take your time", Ghaghikh said. Naveen licked her lips and took a shallow breath before starting. "I went to talk to Yafu, like you told me."

"And you did this in his cell?"

"Yes."

"I told you to do it in an interrogation room."

"It was my mistake, I'm sorry. I thought that would be rude."

Ghaghikh waved his hand dismissively. "So you were in his cell talking to him."

"Yes, but smithee opened the door before I got anywhere. There was someone behind him. The lights had gone out, so it was hard to get details, but it looked like an adult Mimban. I think it was female."

"Any distinct markings? Anything to tell this person apart from others of its species?"

"Not at first, no, but it began to change when we fought back."

"How so?"

"I shot it in the eye. I mean, it should have been a kill shot but it didn't even phase her. She killed Smithee then. She would have killed me, but Yafu jumped in. He kicked her, and her scales or exoskeleton, whatever it was, started falling off. It was really too dark to be sure, but I swear I saw steel implants in her."

Ghaghikh was writing this all down. "Sounds like she was injured. What happened next?"

"She injected something into her neck, and her wounds just started healing. Then she disarmed Yafu. I tried to help, but, but she…" Naveen started crying. Ghaghikh put down his notepad and looked down at the young officer in front of him. "You don't need to say anything else, Naveen. I understand."

"I could have saved them!" Naveen sobbed. Ghaghikh tried to figure out the best thing to say. He already knew what Naveen was talking about. It was just a matter of breaking it to her in a way she would understand. "You're talking about the crater in the wall, aren't you." Naveen looked up and wiped at her eyes with her shirt. She stared at Ghaghikh as if he would provide an answer she didn't have herself.

"This is what you get for not telling the girl sooner", Ghaghikh thought before he spoke next. "Naveen, when I hired you for this job, I wasn't being entirely honest. See, I'm older than I look, and many years ago, I knew a group of people who could do extraordinary things. These people could read emotions like a book, they could run faster and jump higher than anyone else. They could even move objects without touching them. These people called themselves Jedi. Are you familiar with that term?" Naveen nodded. "My mom talked about angels called Jedi. She thought they would come from deep space to free the galaxy from the empire."

"Well, in my experience, none of them were angels. They were just people. People like you. Naveen, I hired you because I thought you would be an incredibly gifted officer, and I was not wrong."

"I don't understand", Naveen said in a shallow voice. "I think you do", Ghaghikh responded. Have you ever experienced anything strange, anything you can't explain? I don't claim to be a jedi, but I think I know what a jedi is better than most. I'll try to answer what I can."

Naveen looked at the ground. "I told Kringea to get back, and… she was just gone. I don't know how it happened."

"Like I said, Jedi can move objects without touching them. You were just defending yourself."

"You can't pretend this is normal!"

"I'm not saying it is, but it is not as uncommon as you might think. Jedi used to be more abundant in the Galaxy." Naveen was silent. She kept wringing her hands together, and wouldn't meet Ghaghikh's eyes.

"Naveen?"

"Yes sir?"

"Have you had any other abnormal experiences while employed here? If you have, now is the time to tell me."

Naveen took a deep breath. "Ever since the breaking yards explosion, I've been having migraines. I've never had migraines before."

"Anything else?"

"I saw something. I thought it was a stress induced hallucination, but I'm not sure anymore"

"Could you share it with me?"

"I was at a spa, Wusha's Paradise. It was brief, but I saw the spa burning, and I heard someone screaming."

Ghaghikh stopped writing in his notebook. "When did you experience this vision Naveen?"

"The weekend of the explosion. Why?"

"Because Wusha's Paradise burnt down yesterday, not long after the precinct was attacked. I guess nobody told you."

"What? Ohh no, no, no."

"Well, that confirms it. Naveen, if you are ok with getting back to work, I would like you by my side on the breaking yards case."

"How do you trust me? There was nobody in that room but me. I…"

"Because you haven't lied to me. I don't think you ever have."

Naveen shakily got up from the stool and took a breath. She was still racked with guilt and fear, but it was a small relief to get some sort of explanation from Ghaghikh. She looked out the break room's window and saw the far off crests of the breaking yards. She remembered how useless she felt when the explosion occurred. She didn't want to feel that way anymore. "What do you need me to do?" She asked.

Ghaghikh gave an earnest grin of razor sharp teeth. "I want you to follow me to the capitol. All you have to do is tell me if you feel anything sketchy. Naveen nodded. "When do we start?" She asked.

"This Friday", Ghaghikh responded. "We've been invited to talk with the chancellor."

"Wait, you mean Mon Mothma?"

"Yes."

"That's… that's quite a promotion."

"It is, but I need to stress something to you."

"Sir?"

"Nobody knows what you are, Naveen, and I'd prefer it to stay that way. At least until after we catch the crooks who have been running around the capitol. They're lodged in deep, like a wood tick, and I think they will burrow deeper if they know a force sensitive is after them."

"Anything else sir?"

There was a pause as Ghaghikh thought back on the last couple days. He had almost forgotten about the Jedi, the actual Jedi. "Naveen, a Twi'lek woman will accompany us to the capitol. Her name is Alida Rospas. She claims to be a private investigator from offworld. I think she has credible information regarding the breaking yards incident, but I don't know if I can trust her beyond that. If you can, try to get an impression on her."

"I'm not entirely sure I understand what you're asking?"

"It's because I don't really know how to ask it. I want you to tell me if you get any weird feelings concerning this woman. If she so much as irritates you, I want you to talk to me.

"I'll do that, sir."

Ghaghikh got up from his stool and handed Naveen her stinger pistol back. "Wonderful, I'll get you more thoroughly debriefed. Then, we'll meet the chancellor", he said.

Outwards Expansion

(Capitol Museum District)

Winter had set in early on Chandrila. Ice piled up along the coast, grinding against piers and climbing over beaches like a lethargic white tide. Flurries hung in the air, and coated the breaking yards (now closed until further notice) in a white blanket. Construction crews hung from the high balconies of skyscrapers, removing icicles that had built up overnight. Along the northern coast of the capitol, a shimmering glass and steel aerospace museum overlooked the frozen water. Maintenance droids were brushing snow off the outside exhibits and the exterior water lines were being checked for signs of freezing. It was early enough that the museum was still closed, and the parking lot only housed two speeders. The curator's vehicle, and an expensive black and green delivery speeder.

Abercrombie sat on the hood of the Sobayaki Farms' new speeder. It was a brand new YT model, a clear upgrade over their old delivery speeder. It was a respectable vehicle with a large carrying capacity and expansive trunk, yet it was not so expensive as to draw eyes. Jaeleno had told the Jawas to scrap the old speeder. Too many people had seen it limping away from the burning wreckage of Wusha's Paradise. However, Jaeleno had stripped the part time food truck of all its cooking supplies. That cooking supplies was now stacked into the back of their new speeder, along with a wide array of brand new culinary equipment.

Jaeleno was currently inside the aerospace museum, and Abercrombie could see him conversing with the museum curator through the glass door. The curator was an old man with long gray hair, and thin rimmed glasses riding on his nose. He seemed to be in good humor. Abercrombie saw both men laugh at something and assumed Jaeleno was close to finalizing a deal. Jaeleno wanted to purchase a storage building that sat on the museum grounds. It was a two floored structure located between the main museum and a park further eastward. The building had sat there forever. It had rotting wooden walls, two stained crystal windows, and a blue ceramite plaque sat in front stating it had once been a boat launch. There were oxidized rails that led down from the rear of the building to the water, and clusters of barnacles were fastened to the crumbling stone foundation. It was a window's break away from being considered a public hazard, but the museum staff didn't have the time to repair it, nor the heart to tear it down. For some baffling reason, Jaeleno thought it would make a nice site for a restaurant. Inside the museum, Jaeleno and the curator shook hands and Jaeleno strolled outside.

"How'd it go?" Abercrombie asked as Jaeleno neared the delivery speeder. Jaeleno smiled and pulled a rusted key from his pocket. "We have the property!" He said. "Nrghghg mrgfm", came a bark from the back of the speeder. Abercrombie felt the vehicle rock as Fifa got up from where she had been sitting on the rear fender. She had offered to join the Sobayaki crew until she figured out where else to go, and Nobody had argued with her. Abercrombie clicked a button on his translator, and Fifa's statement replayed in basic. "Mr. Sobyaki, forgive me, but what was it you promised the curator? I have a foreboding feeling that this is going too well. Is it possible that man suspects us and is calling the authorities as we speak?"

"I don't think so", Jaeleno said, opening up the trunk. "I haggled a bit, but gave him a lot more money than the property's worth. I think I convinced him I was an amature entrepreneur. Besides, I am going to pay for their Y-wing restorations. "YOU DID WHAT?" Abercrombie and Fifia asked. Jaeleno raised up his hands and smiled apologetically. "It came up in conversation! All of their Y wings are rusting down to nothing, and the museum needs money to restore them. Some of them are original Gold Squadron bombers. Look, it's not uncommon for some of the old legacy farm owners to be incredibly rich, so I played into it. I mean, it's not like we're poor any more."

"At least tell me you used an alias", Abercrombie asked bluntly. "Jaeleno paused, as if he were looking for the proper way to answer. "I saw no need to use one", he said at length. Abercrombie rubbed his forehead. "Fifa, could you take those keys and start moving these kitchen supplies to the shed?" The wookie heaved a medium sized oven into her left arm and grasped the rusting key in her right hand. She began plodding across the snow over to the prospective restaurant. Abercrombie waited until she was out of earshot before he began talking again. "You're donating to the museum because of Yafu, aren't you?" Jaeleno looked back at the museum and sniffed. "Yafu deserved more. A lot more. His obituary was on the news yesterday, did you know that?" Abercrombie kept silent. "You saw his letter, right?" Abercrombie nodded. "He was willing to turn himself in to grant us immunity. Why would he do that? He was being so bleeding dumb!" Jaeleno kicked the side of the speeder. "Now he's dead because of me."

"Its not your fault", Abercrombie butted in. "Kringea and Mutsa Wusha must have known what he was doing before we did. I wager they wanted him dead for a long time. There was no way we could have stopped it. Look, the news struck us both hard, and we're still trying to cope with it."

"Do you think I made a mistake at the spa, having Mutsa Wusha killed?" Jaeleno asked. Abercrombie looked down at the pavement silently. "I think", he began cautiously. "That we would have needed Mutsa Wusha out of the picture no matter what. She would have either continued to exploit us or she would have had us killed like Yafu. However, I think you were overcome by emotion when you ordered Yorg… to do what he did to her, and I never recommend acting based purely on feelings. In any sense, I believe it came down to her or us, and you merely cut out the steps in between. We have to focus on the present and future now. I have no doubt someone will come to claim Mutsa Wusha's riches, and they're probably going to come prepared. Not to mention Kringea is still lurking out there somewhere. Our next course of action, besides setting up this money laundry (gesturing to the shed), is to find allies in high places."

Jaeleno picked up a couple pots and gave a slight grin at Abercrombie. "Who says this is a money laundry? I always wanted to own a restaurant, and both of us can cook."

"Yeah, if we have time outside of everything else we've gotten involved in."

"You're of little faith, Abercrombie. I think we can afford to relax for at least a couple days. Besides, I know where to find friends in high places." Jaeleno pointed to the skyline to their south. Barely poking up above its steel neighbors was the capital building. Its marble sides made it appear like a titanic snow structure amongst its durasteel and brick neighbors. "We need to find a way into that party Vivian was talking about", Jaeleno said.

Trapped

(Seven Years ago - Ignis Company- On the planet Ryloth)

Hammond could taste blood in his mouth as he lay sprawled on the ground. There were dozens of armored bodies around him, crushed and mangled under a thick layer of concrete and steel. Some were still alive and struggling to climb free, many had died on the spot. Hammond was one of the lucky ones. He had only survived because his blast armor had taken the impact. Now, he could hear his armor groaning as a heavy metal support beam slowly crushed him. It was difficult to breathe, in a couple minutes, he thought he would suffocate.

Ignis Company had been the first wave to breach the loyalist base. They had gone about securing prisoners and capturing machine gun pits without incident. However, none of them had been at ease. The hypervelocity cannon still towered above them, and it was very much operational. The cannon was a truly titanic structure, more like a skyscraper than a weapon of war. The barrel was attached to a ball turret that slowly swiveled in a massive socket that vibrated the ground as it moved. Hammond wagered the turret went a kilometer into the earth, and the armor to the weapon must have been indescribably thick. While the turret swiveled, the barrel raked the sky restlessly. It had annerved them all, seeing the cannon make trajectory corrections, patiently waiting for the planet to rotate far enough for the fleet to be in range. They had seven hours left until that happened. That's when the first explosion went off.

Stormtroopers had begun detonating the tunnels leading into the cannon itself. The first couple explosions collapsed the main entrance ways for base personnel. These routes crumbled before Ignis could push through. The stormtroopers' goals had become clear to the company, and they began sprinting along the cannon's vast perimeter trying to find a way inside. Other companies followed suit, and the first Corps split in two, enveloping the cannon, trying to find a way in. On the West side, Ignis was the tip of the spear. More explosions went off and less entrances become available. The desperation within the soldiers steadily increased. Finally, they had found an undetonated entrance, a wide, heavily reinforced cargo tunnel. They had lost so many men just securing an entrance to the tunnel. Two friendly ATSTs had already been destroyed by rocket fire and now laid burning at the entrance. Sending more would clog the tunnel to the point of uselessness. It fell to the infantry, of which Ignis company was the lead.

Slowly, the army troopers drove off the loyalist stormtroopers. Every meter of ground exacted a heavy toll as the loyalist fell back from defended position to defended position. Regardless, the tunnel was running out of defenders. The loyalist withdrawal became a rout and Ignis company charged deeper into the cannon. Without warning the roof exploded, and the tunnel collapsed, burying both Ignis and the sister companies charging in behind her.

Hammon set his hands below the lip of the support beam. He heaved with all his might, but to no avail. His lungs stung from a lack of oxygen, and his vision blirred. He gasped and frantically looked around. He could hear shouting nearby.

"We can't hold this position!"

"Just a little longer!

"Reinforcements aren't coming sir!"

"We've got contacts coming from the vents!"

"Damn it! Secure the wounded and find cover!

The edge of Hammond's vision was going dark. He could hear footsteps nearing his position. Someone was coming. By the stars, he hoped they could help him. Flashes of red and green lit up the room. Hammond could smell scorched flesh in what scant air he could get. Blaster fire had drowned out the sound of footsteps. Hammond closed his eyes and the darkness start to take him.

The support beam tumbled off of him. Hammond gasped and coughed up blood into his helmet's visor. He felt cold steel slip under his armor and shirt, and press against his skin. He began to panic and reached for his blaster. A warm, slippery hand grasped his wrist. "It's me, Hammond", said Sunny. She reached her hand underneath Hammond's helmet and took it off him. The combat medic was covered in gore. Her white medic's armor had splotches of dark red smeared across her chest and shoulder pads. Her short cut hair was also stained, along with a surgical mask she now wore. "Don't move", she instructed, and slid the metal object further up Hammond's chest. Hammond looked down, and saw a hydraulic scissors held firmly in Sunny's hand. She pressed a button and Hammond's chest plate split in two. It fell off his chest and rattled to the floor.

There was now pain. Deep, crushing pain that took the breath out of Hammond again. Sunny unslung her pack and rummaged through it. "You have a collapsed lung", she said, "I'm going to try and relieve the pressure". She grabbed Hammond by the shoulder and rolled him onto his side. There was more pain. Sunny procured a plastic tube from her pack and attached a long, slender needle to the tip of it. She fastened a plunger to the other side then slid the needle between the ribs in Hammond's back.

Hammond gasped again as Sunny pulled on the plunger and air returned to his lungs. Sunny then removed the needle, which auto cauterized the puncture in Hammond's back as it slipped out. "You have two broken ribs", Sunny said. "I can't help with that right now". She handed Hammond an E-11 rifle, and propped him against a rectangular concrete slab. "Cover me", she said as she ran further into the debris from the collapse.

Hammond clenched his jaw as he staggered to his feet. There was still a lot of pain, but he would have to fight through it. The room he now stood in had been a nexus of cargo tunnels. Now, there was only one path left unclogged by the collapse, straight ahead, and the enemy was doing their all to make sure Ignis company went no farther. Rows upon rows of hulking black cyborgs were dropping through torn open vents in the ceiling and walls. There were at least a couple dozen of them and more were coming. Hammond rapidly looked around for allies. Very few remained.

The explosion had caused a semicircle of debris to spill out onto the concrete ground, and the remainder of Ignis company was trying to take cover in it. There had once been over 200 men and women in this company. Now, Hammond saw no more than 30. The robotic things were already at the front line of their makeshift perimeter where they slaughtered at will. Very quickly, Ignis Company was reduced to less than 20 men.

Hammond touched his belt. He had one explosive left, a particularly muddied and battered thermal imploder. He swore as he ducked back into cover. He must have lost the rest of his ordnance during the collapse. He crawled on his hands and knees looking for anything else he could use. There was nothing there but rubble. Hammond poked his head out of cover. A couple meters ahead, there was another demolition specialist. Her cover was a pile of fractured concrete, and it was being rapidly deteriorated by precise cannon fire from the robotic things. There was barely a centimeter between her back and the steady torrent of green blaster bolts. Next to the woman's leg were two thermal detonators and an imploder, but there was too little room behind cover for her to grab the grenades. If she moved at all, the robotic things would be able to shoot her. "Don't scuff this up Hammond!" He thought to himself as he twisted the primer on his last thermal imploder and lobbed the explosive at the things.

One of the cyborgs caught the explosive and prepared to toss it back. It was a second too slow. The imploder had only just left its hand when it went off. The dimly lit interior of the room lit up with a blinding orange light, and Hammond's ears popped as pressure built up around the explosion. "PHOOOOOM!" The front line of the things melted and toppled on top of each other. This prompted a salvo of rifle fire from Hammond's fellow army troopers which dispatched the damaged cyborgs, and staggered the second row. The things quickly responded, and Hammond saw two more men killed. The Woman in front of Hammond took this distraction as an opportunity to crawl over to a twisted steel beam on her left. She had gotten her head and torso behind the beam when one of the second line cyborgs fired at her. Its target lock had not been broken by the explosion, and a torrent of cannon bolts burrowed into the side of her waist, between her chest plate and leg armor, and ripped her in half.

Hammond averted his eyes and tried not to look at her body. Then the smell of charred flesh from the woman's corpse reached him. Hammond vomited onto the dust caked ground and winced as his chest screamed in pain. "Focus, Damn you! Focus!" Hammond growled to himself as he spat out sour bile. The woman's thermal detonators still rested by her feet, and he suspected they were the last pieces of heavy ordnance the company possessed. Hammond laid flat on the ground (ignoring the stinging in his chest) and began pushing aside the smaller pieces of rubble that separated his cover from the woman's body. He risked glancing up again. They had managed to kill five of the things, but more and more kept pouring out of the vents further down the passageway. There were too many of them for Hammond to waste time counting.

Hammond pushed aside what rubble he could and inched his way to the woman's body. He resisted the urge to look at her as he gathered the explosives. That's when he noticed she still had an ordnance launcher strapped to her hip. Hammond clenched his teeth and pulled the launcher over to him. The stock was soaked with blood and still warm to the touch, but it seemed searched the woman's body for an armor piercing cap to put on the imploder. He found a couple scattered around her left hip. "This isn't going to be like the turbolaser", Hammond thought to himself as he screwed the cap onto the imploder. "Do it right".

Hammond inserted the capped imploder into the ordnance launcher, pressed it to his shoulder and rose out of cover. Time stood still for a moment. Hammond could see the second line of things readjust their wrist mounted cannons at him. He saw the glare of their eyes as they switched targets. The smell of the eviscerated woman was all too strong in his nostrils, and part of him wondered what he would smell like after he was blasted open. Hammond lined up the iron sights with one of the ceiling vents the things were descending from and pulled the trigger. He didn't bother bracing for the recoil and let it kick him back to the ground as the things opened fire. He saw burning green bolts of cannon fire travel centimeters past his face and felt blisters form on his cheeks and forehead as the peripheral heat cooked him. He had exhausted his last option. This was it.

"PHOOOOM!" The imploder went off outside of hammond's vision. Then, the room began to shake. A crack appeared in the ceiling above Hammond. He closed his eyes and held his breath. Huge slabs of concrete and steel toppled down on top of the things and crushed their ranks. The cave in spread closer and closer until it reached the mound of rubble the army troopers were huddled in. Hammond didn't know weather it was the fact that the ceiling had already given way on top of them or if they were just lucky, but the cave in stopped shortly after it reached Ignis company.

The second cave in had taken out what few ceiling lights remained, and dust now floated in the air like a thick fog. The company survivors attached flashlights to their rifles and scanned the room. Hammond felt a cold pit in his stomach. He only saw five flashlights. The flashlight beams revealed the result of Hammond's actions. The entire hallway had given way on top of the things. Here and there, black metal arms, legs, and heads protruded from the rubble. None of them were moving. Hammond turned up the intensity of his flashlight and aimed it down the collapsed hallway. The debris continued for about 50 feet before it met with the ceiling. "Karrablast!" Hammond cursed. He may have saved them from the things (for now), but the blast had completely sealed them in.

A lifeless, white light radiated from the left side of the room. It took Hammond's eyes a couple seconds to adjust before he was able to decipher what it was. "Who is still with us?" Sergeant Cartwright said as he turned down the brightness of a hand held lamp. Hammond looked around again. There were bodies, lots of them. He saw Sunny vaulting over the rubble from wounded to wounded. She had Two fresh medic packs draped over her shoulders, and there was a bandage she had wrapped around her left forearm. It was obvious that she had been hit, but it had been a glancing blow. On the right side of the room, a heavy trooper lifted himself out of cover using his machine blaster as a crutch. His armor was badly scored, and his leg was in a splint, but he was able to move around well enough. For a second, Hammond thought the trooper was Jug, then he remembered. A rifleman with wrinkled skin and graying hair climbed down from the debris behind Hammond and patted his shoulder. "That was a spot of brilliance you just had, bringing the roof down on em' I mean. Well done lad."

Five. Five members of Ignis Company were left combat capable. Sunny was still sprinting through the rubble trying to save the wounded, but it was pushing her to the edge of her skill. There were maybe eight troops she had stabilized, but they weren't going to be moving any time soon, and Sunny believed many of them could still die if she left them. Cartwright knelt next to the lamp he had set beyond the rubble. A transmitter was pressed against his ear, and he held a digital watch in his hand. Hammond found the company captain face down in the rubble with most of his head missing. It was a disheartening sight, but it didn't make things much worse than they already were. In truth, there was a morbid silver lining to the death of the captain. Hammond had rolled him over and found that he still was gripping a rotary grenade launcher. Hammond pried the weapon from the stiff hands and found that four grenades were left in the six round magazine, and a spare rifle magazine was on the captain's belt. Against his better judgment, Hammond felt irritated. The Captain's weapon would have been invaluable in fighting the things, and he had only gotten off two shots. It couldn't be helped though, and the captain had gone down fighting at least.

The injured Heavy trooper had introduced himself as Reuter. He had been completely separated from his squad during the first cave in, and had lost use of his left leg in the process. His splint was little more than a crude, plastic patchwork, but it seemed to hold his weight. Despite his current condition, Reuter was currently limping through the rubble in search of spare ammunition. Six magazines were dangling from his belt and shoved into his ammo pack. Even in the minimal light of Cartwrigh's lantern, Hammond could see the sheen of blood trickling down his white splint.

The rifleman was named Edward. His squad had been decimated by enemy artillery fire early in the battle, but they had made it to the cannon regardless. What was left of his squad had been finished off moments ago by the things. Hammond didn't think Edward was taking it well. The man was talking in an upbeat tone, but his eyes were dark and vengeful. Hammond was the same way. Jug's death still weighed heavily on him, along with the deaths he could have prevented at the turbolaser. They stung him as much as his broken ribs, and it still was very close to consuming his focus. "Concentrate", Hammond said to himself. "You still have a job to do."

The three of them gathered around Cartwright. With the captain dead, Cartwright was now the raking officer. Hammond didn't mind that, and if the two other soldiers didn't object. They hadn't bothered to get Sunny's attention. Her efforts were better spent on saving the wounded.

Cartwright hooked his transmitter to his belt and regarded the survivors. They all looked horrible, caked with dust and carrying bloody equipment. That was why Cartwright's smile took Hammond by surprise. "I've got good news", the sergeant said.

"How? How is any of this good?", Reuter asked, gesturing around to the rubble and bodies.

"Good news being relative", Cartwright conceded. "I haven't been able to get a transmission out of this thing", he said, holding up the fractured transmitter. "However, I've been able to receive transmissions from our side. All three Corps have converged on the cannon. What's left of the stormtrooper garrisons outside are surrendering."

A sense of relief washed over the survivors. If the outside battle had been won, they could defend the wounded until a rescue team arrived. With 120,000 men here (disregarding the casualties), someone was bound to find them. "There's a problem", Cartwright said with audible disappointment as he listened to the transmitter. The feeling amongst the group sank as quickly as it had risen. "Reports have come in that a large starship hangar has opened up in the swampland north of the cannon. Scouts are saying there's a star destroyer inside." There was silence. "Has the fleet been made aware?" Asked Hammond.

"They have", responded Cartwright. "We got a message directly from the man in charge." Cartwright pressed a button on his transmitter and set it on a floor. A hologram popped up, appearing ghost-like in the dusty air. It depicted a white shirted commodore standing at the bridge of a star destroyer. "This is Maximilian De la Château, commodore of task force eleven," the hologram said. "We are aware of the development on the ground, and are rearming our bombers for a run on the enemy destroyer." The commodore paused. "It will take time to get the bombers ready, however. We need the army to do all it can to stall the enemy from launching. We believe the loyalist Moff, a man named Perth, has fled the orbital battle to your general location. I suspect he is leaving the planet on this destroyer. Spare as many forces as you deem applicable to interfere with that destroyer's launch while still being able to capture the cannon."

The hologram sputtered out and Cartwright hooked the transmitter back onto his belt. "This doesn't change things", he said. "As far as I know, the loyalists collapsed all main entrances to the cannon. Engineers are attempting to drill in, but I don't know how long they will be." Cartwright looked down at his electronic watch again. The army has less than five hours to take this structure, otherwise the fleet is going to be screwed.

Edward looked down at Cartwright's watch and paled. "There has to be more of the bleeding army in this cannon than us." Cartwright solemnly shook his head. "As far as I know, we are the only troops who made it inside". Hammond felt his ribs flare up as if they were responding to the news. Edward muttered a curse and began pacing around the rubble. Reuter leaned heavily on his machine blaster and stared lifelessly at the floor. Cartwright sighed and wiped the sweat and dust from his forehead. "The engineers might be able to tunnel through the debris in time. Hammond, you know this better than I do. How long until they get through?"

Hammond talked through the pain in his side. "Too long", he said. "I'd suspect a straight dig would take them three two hours with all the durasteel in the wreckage. Realistically, it would take them much longer if they wanted to avoid triggering another collapse. You want my opinion? The army is going to rush for the docked destroyer instead of wasting time digging. If the destroyer is an evacuation vessel like the commodore thinks, there must be some sort of passageway into the main cannon from where it's moored." Cartwright nodded. "Right, give me a couple minutes to get a better picture of the situation out there. In the meantime, gather what supplies you need. Be ready for us to move out soon. If we are the only troopers who made it inside this facility, we might as well make the most of it."

Hammond had already done a thorough sweep of the debris for explosives, so he climbed through the wreckage over to Sunny (who had her hands in an unconscious person's gut). Sunny was the first to speak. "No, I'm not going with you guys. If you want medical supplies, there is a patch kit next to a corpse ten feet that way." She pointed towards the edge of the rubble with a gore strewn hand. Hammond nodded. Unsure of what else to say, he said, "Good luck, Sunny". She looked up briefly. "Yeah, you too."

Hammond climbed through the rubble until he found the corpse Sunny had pointed out. It was a mess strewn about beside a burnt out cyborg. The corpse was a pulp of red with ribbons of shattered medic armor. He or she had been maimed in gruesome hand to hand combat trying to keep one of the thing away from a downed rifleman. It hadn't worked, so the medic had pulled his or her patient's grenade string.

Hammond held his breath as he reached down and grabbed a small patch kit that had been tossed from the medic's hand. A side of the kit was spattered with blood, but Hammond hoped the interior was insulated enough that it wouldn't be a problem. He stuffed the kit in his pack and climbed back to cartwright.

The sergeant had his ear pressed to the transmitter. A look of heavy weariness was upon his face. Reuter was beside him, tightening the belt that kept his splint on. Edward was staring hatefully at one of the dead things while cleaning his rifle. "Second and Third Corps have reached the hangar", Cartwright said. "But are getting pushed back by large amounts of 'exotic weaponry'."

"What do you mean by that?" Hammond asked.

"I don't know. Our reception down here was bad to begin with, but it's even worse with three Corps trying to talk over each other. Damn! You'd think more of us would use different frequencies!

"What can you make out?"

"More of those robotic bastards are charging out of the hangar. It seems like they are abandoning the cannon to make sure the destroyer escapes. There's organic soldiers amongst them as well… bizzare weapon descriptions… no, that doesn't make any sense. Apparently we've already lost four ATATs…."

Hammond's blood ran cold, and it felt as if his lung would collapse again. "The loyalists are going to blow up the cannon" He said, interrupting Cartwright. "That's why they are pulling back all their forces to the destroyer." The captain didn't say anything. He merely nodded.

"Ok then", Edward said, smacking a magazine into his rifle loud enough to startle them. "I'm guessing we're off to stop that, aren't we?

"We are the only ones left who can". "You all gather your gear. It's up to us to save this operation.

The Complex

The makeshift squad of four walked up the pile of rubble and destroyed things. Cartwright took point with Hammond while Reuter and Edward held the rear. Hammond's feet shifted as rubble went clattering down the pile, uncovering the arm of one of the things. He stood there with his E-11 pointed at the arm. It didn't move. "Up here, Hammond", Cartwright called from the top of the cave in. Hammond readjusted the armor he had salvaged from the other demolitions specialist and continued up the pile. He reached a large ventilation shaft. It had a whirring blade propelling air down into the room, and was about as wide as Cartwright's outstretched arms. "Think you can blow this open?" The sergeant asked.

Hammond nodded and screwed open a cap from one of his thermal detonators. He wasn't about to use a full charge with how much damage the room had already suffered. The cap came off and Hammond cut off the end of the detonite putty. He pasted this as close to the interior rim of the fan as he could and trailed a wire down the mound of rubble. The other three men stepped back and Hammond sent a current from his backpack down the wire.

The fan blade went flying off its bearing in a puff of black smoke and yellow flame. It embedded in the wall some distance to Hammond's left. "That was sloppy work", Hammond thought to himself, but it was the best he could do in the circumstance. Cartwright did not seem bothered, however. He shone his barrel mounted flashlight into the still smoldering vent and nodded to them. "It's clear", he said, and pulled himself in.

They had just finished pulling Reuter into the ventilation shaft when a tremor went through the facility. "Another cave in?" Edward asked, sounding more tired than afraid. "Possibly", said Hammond, "It's nowhere near us though."

It might be the fighting outside" Cartwright said, listening to his transmitter. In the sheer blackness of the vent, Cartwright's transmitter painted them all a light blue. "Our artillery has reached the enemy destroyer. It's being shelled right now." The facility shook again as if to affirm Cartwright's statement. "Come on, we don't have much time", the sergeant said as he walked northwards in the rough direction of the cannon's center.

Cartwright had led them on for several hundred meters before the shaft split. One branch went due east, the other north. Since they had entered on the southwestern side of the cannon, the east facing branch offered a better chance of going deeper into the facility. They followed this path for a while, carefully skirting around the air exchange blades in the floor. Eventually, they could hear voices below. Voices sounding like a mix of droid speak and organic gargling. There were also able to recognize the heavy footfalls of the things as they marched in the hallway below them.

Hammond, Cartwright, and Edward had managed to skirt around the air exchange unnoticed when Hammond heard a faint "Pttt, Pttt, Pttt". He turned around, and gently turned the safety off his blaster. Behind them, Reuter was kiting around the air exchange. The blood tracing down his leg was not. It had been pooling beside the air exchange, now, a gentle trickle was falling into the blade, spraying the hallway below them. The marching stopped.

A torrent of green cannon bolts poured into the vent, blinding Hammond and quite literally disintegrating Reuter from the head down. "Move!" Shouted Cartwright, and they scurried along like rats whose nest had been discovered. Another volley of cannon bolts melted through the section of vent they had just been standing in. Hammond made the mistake of looking back and saw the faint red glow of one of the thing's oculars as it pulled itself through the melted floor of the vent. He had barely leveled his grenade launcher when the thing pointed its wrist mounted cannon and fired.

A hand was suddenly around the collar of Hammond's armor and pulled him into an offshoot going down and to the right. It was a tiny space, barely wider than Hammond's shoulders, but at the moment, it was the best thing in the universe. The hand let go of Hammond's armor and rested on his shoulder. "Enough heroics for one day, eh kid?" Said Edward. "You almost missed your turn."

"Right. Thanks Edward", Hammond said, out of breath and understandably stunned."Give me a second to slow them down." Hammond primed one of his thermal detonators and banked it against the far wall of the larger vent. "Let's get out of here", he said moments before the grenade detonated.

This time, the clever placement of a grenade did not do much to stop the things. Hammond could hear the scraping of metal hands and knees as more of the robotic abominations crawled after them. All that was left was to lose them in the catacomb of tiny supporting vents. Hammond and Edward ran into Cartwright a couple meters ahead. The sergeant was tying one of the patch kits around his arm, barely covering a sizable laceration on his shoulder. As they approached him, Cartwright merely nodded, and kept crawling onwards as if nothing had happened. However, the briskness in the squad's pace and the distant scratching of metal hands behind them spoke otherwise.

The three men crawled until their knees stung under their pads and their hands blistered under their gloves. Cartwright and Hammond were injured, while Edward was altogether too old for this much activity. The only reason they had stayed ahead was that the vents were a bit too small for their mechanical pursuers to keep pace. However, the troopers were slowing down as well and they knew they might soon be overtaken. "This isn't working", Cartwright said out of breath. "Those robotic bastards probably have thermal optics and chemoreceptors. I'm leaving a perfect trail for them." The sergeant put a hand over his bandage and pulled it away. He scowled at the blood dripping from his fingers as if it had disappointed him. "Hammond", He said. "I need you to find another branch in this damned vent. One with enough residual heat to conceal you two. I'm going to take another path and see if I can lead those things on a wild nerf chase. "Here, take this", the sergeant handed them the remainder of his medical kits and spare ammunition.

"Sergent, with due respect, this is idiotic", said Hammond. We need as much manpower as we can get to fight our way to the reactor and control rooms. We…"

"We had all the manpower we could muster a while back, and we were still slaughtered. This is the only way I think we can save this operation." Cartwright looked back down the vent. The sound of crawling metal hands was getting louder. "Right now, you two are the most important men in this army. Find the reactor or find a control room. Prevent these loyalist mudscuffers from blowing the cannon up or firing it. I'll give you a head start." The sergeant turned around and began crawling back towards the things. Hammond wanted to stop him, but it was no use. Cartwright was gone.

Hammond felt around the vent until his hand pressed against a conduit. It was barely warmer than the vent floor, but it was a start. "This way", Hammond said to Edward, and they began crawling in the opposite direction of the sergeant. After a couple minutes of crawling, the temperature around them increased. They crawled some more, and it increased further. Hammond took off his gloves turned his palms over. They were blistering. Behind him, Edward was not holding up well. His face glistened with perspiration, and his arms shook. Hammond caught him moments before he could fall onto the searing floor. "It's hot in here, Hammond", the old rifleman said.

"Hang in there. Something important must be nearby for it to be this hot. There has to be a source for all of it. I need you ready to give me cover for when we find it.

"Aye aye, Miracle man", Edward wheezed. He was moments away from passing out.

Hammond dragged Edward further on until he found himself at a junction where the vent widened and went straight upwards and downwards. Above them, the vent went on into bleak darkness. Below them, the vent traveled straight down before bending away. Intense orange light was reflecting off this bend, and the smell of ozone followed it. "I… think we are in … a reactor's cooling outlet." Hammond said between gasps. He didn't mention that the smell of ozone indicated heavy, potentially lethal levels of radiation. Hammond looked down at the rifleman he had been dragging. Edward's legs and arms were full of blisters. His body hung lifelessly in Hammond's arms. He was barely breathing.

"No." Hammond mumbled. His own hands were blackened and riddled with blisters. His lungs were on fire, and his vision was blurring. He edged closer to the vertical shaft and the scent of ozone stung his nostrils. "Stay with me old man", Hammond mumbled. He grabbed the laser sight from Edward's rifle and pointed it upwards in the vertical shaft. The reflection from the laser illuminated a cluster of smaller conduits circling the shaft like a massive metal sphincter. "That might be a heat regulator,'' Hammond said to the unresponsive rifleman. I wager it's filled with super chilled liquid. Hammond unslung his grenade launcher, and leveled it at the heat regulator. "Please don't detonate in the barrel", he said to the grenade as he pulled the trigger.

The grenade zipped through the air and punctured the cooling unit before exploding in a puff of white steam. Freezing white liquid poured from the bursted conduits down towards the burning light below, and it's effects were immediate. The drop in temperature was jarring, at least by 20 degrees, maybe more. Still, it was blissful relief from the near lethal heat. There was no time to take in the relief though. The loyalists were bound to notice damage in one of their cooling toweres, and the things or stormtroopers would soon be en route. Hammond had to get himself and Edward out of here before it happened. He swung around so that his legs were dangling over the side and began to kick the far wall of the shaft. Hammond hoped the coolant had frozen this section of wall. With a little luck, it would be brittle enough to kick down. The first kick caused searing pain in Hammond's feet. It was indescribably cold. Hammond ignored it and kicked again. This time, he felt nothing in his feet at all, but a single fissure had appeared. On the third kick, the solid iron wall shattered like a dropped wine glass. Beyond was a nest of electric cables traveling parallel to the shaft.

Under other circumstances, Hammond would have thought he wouldn't be able to fit into such a cramped space, but he was running out of time. He first hooked Edwards hands around his back and pinned them to his chest with one of his own hands. He then leaned forwards and took a firm grasp of the most structurally sound cables. Hammond planted his feet on the edge of the vent and half pulled, half jumped his way across the reactor outlet. The cables snapped and he fell into the darkness below.

…

When Hammond opened his eyes, he was keenly aware of two things. One, he hurt. He still couldn't feel his feet, his ankles were sore and swollen, and he couldn't open one of his eye lids. He could, however, feel the burns all across his body, and his blackened hands stugn. The other thing he noticed was that there was a tugging sensation in his back. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt. In front of him, his armor was stacked sloppily in a pile. "I'd wager we have an hour before the loyalists screw the fleet or their own cannon", came the old, tired voice of Edward from over Hammond's shoulder. Hammond began turning around, but a sharp pain in his back prevented him. Edward put a hand on Hammond's shoulder blade to prevent him from moving any further. "I'm trying to stitch up your back, Miracle Man. These hands shake bad enough as it is without you flopping around. Hammond groaned. While sunny had been quick and efficient, Edward was slow and meanderous. "We don't have time for this Edward. We have to get moving." Hammond said. "And how far do you expect to move with your back cracked open, son?" Hammond was silent. "How bad is it?" He asked.

Edward sighed. "When I came to, I was on top of you covered in frayed wires and blood. I knew right quick it wasn't mine because I saw a line of pipe going right through you. So, I pulled you free, dragged you for who knows how long, parked you here, stripped off your armor, and tried to follow the instructions in these blasted field kits to put you back together. Hammond felt his belly to the right of his abs. There was a knotted hole roughly stitched closed. It stung like all hell when he touched it. "Don't do that", Edward said as Hammond gasped. "I'm no doctor, but I don't think that's a hole you don't want to reopen."

"I figured."

"Hold tight, I'm just about finished."

Hammond felt the thread in his back get cut and grimaced as he sat back upright. As Edward packaged up what little medical supplies they still had left, Hammond looked around to asses their environment. It was a large sanitation storeroom. Bottles of cleaning supplies lined the shelves, and protective chem suits hung from the ceiling. The door was a simple sliding mechanism with a non powered lock. If someone wanted to get in, there was nothing stopping them. Opposite of them was a group of decontamination showers with large air intakes. One of the intakes was missing a fan, and a streak of blood went from it down the shower, across the floor, and to where Hammond now sat propped against a locker. "Thank you Edward", he said. "Don't mention it", the old rifleman responded. "You did the same for me. Now, get what's left of your armor and armaments. If nobody else in the sodding army can find a way to deactivate this cannon, then it's up to us to give it a shot.

Things Change

(Aboard the Devastation in orbit above Ryloth)

Maximilian stood at the bridge reading battle reports. The fighting in orbit had ended about an hour ago when the last of the space stations had surrendered. The galactic marines attached to Maximilian's fleet had boarded the three space stations in orbit above Ryloth and had encountered relatively little resistance. The marines reported that a small mutiny amongst the loyalist crews had occurred, but what was puzzling was that it seemed to have started some time before the fleet had arrived. The mutiny didn't much bother Maximilian. Its origins could be uncovered later. Right now, only three things mattered. Maintaining control of the space stations, ensuring the army captured the hyper velocity cannon, and capturing Moff Perth.

The fleet had already reconfigured itself into a diamond configuration around the space stations; half of the ships faced Ryloth, ready to intercept any loyalists who dared approach from the planet's surface. The other half faced the hyperspace lane just beyond Ryloth's moon. If any reinforcements arrived from afar, they would be jumping straight into the fire of the fleet's guns. As for the cannon, the army had gotten all the way to the surrounding facilities. All that was left was to enter the structure itself and deactivate it. The behemoth's shields and much of the surrounding anti-aircraft weaponry had been destroyed. Yet time was rushing by. Maximilian had given the order for the fleet's TIE bomber squadrons to rearm for an ion strike on the cannon, but it had not yet been carried out. Most of the bombers were still planetside, completing their attacks on grounded loyalist destroyers. The ones that had returned would have to be rearmed and serviced. This would take time. Too much time. As for Perth…

"Sir, the army is reporting that a loyalist star destroyer is preparing to launch from the cannon facility", Said a communications officer from her post in the command trench. "That's him. I'm confident that's Perth", Maximilian thought to himself. He wanted Perth in a cell, preferably one with an experienced interrogator. The man had been willing to kill scores of his own crew, but had fled the moment he was personally in danger. Maximilian ground his teeth. If he couldn't exact his vengeance on Vader, Perth would do for now. "Hail our carriers", Maximilian said. "I want squadrons of Tie bombers with ion ordnance ready to finish off the cannon and this fleeing destroyer." The communications officer imputed a pattern into her computer and frowned at the message that had been sent in return. "Sir, the carriers think they can launch the next wave in twenty minutes."

"Tell them they have ten", Maximilian said. His tone of voice was measured, but his scowl was starting to betray his irritation. He would have rather closed Perth's escape route with the fleet's capital ships, but he couldn't do anything about it while the hyper velocity cannon remained functional. What was taking the army so long? They had secured the base within hours. Why couldn't they close the noose?

"Another message for you sir", the communications officer said after some time. "It's coming from Fleet Command on Kuat. "I'll take it in my cabin", Maximilian responded, checking his watch. They had about three hours before the cannon got in range, so this meeting was an unwelcome waste of time. Maximilian's scowl deepened as he closed the doors to his cabin.

A blue hued hologram buzzed into existence the moment Maximilian closed the doors. He hadn't bothered wiping the scowl from his face, but he now wished he had. "Encountering difficulties, commodore?" Grand Admiral Thrawn asked. The admiral's voice retained its biting coldness even through the hologram, and his blood red eyes seemed to indicate he already knew much of what was going on at Ryloth, "Grand admiral", Maximilian responded. "The orbital battle has gone well. The space stations are ours, and we have disabled or destroyed the bulk of the loyalist fleet. All that we have to do now is secure the cannon and prevent the loyalists from retreating offworld."

Thrawn nodded. "Veers has kept me updated on the status of the ground battle. It is my opinion that his army will not be able to reach the cannon's reactor or control room in time. To correct this issue, I've given both you and Veers authority to destroy the cannon before it can damage your fleet or the orbital platforms you have captured."

Maximilian furrowed his brow in confusion. "With respect, thousands of men have already died trying to take this cannon, not to mention the billions of credits worth of fuel and ammunition expended. Why are we suddenly willing to destroy it when we were prepared to go to great lengths to ensure its capture?"

"Because, captain, the orbital stations have become more important to us, and I do not want to risk the hyper velocity cannon destroying them."

"But sir, I am about to send a wave of tie bombers to attack the cannon. With enough amassed ion ordnance, surely we will be able to disable it?" The admiral shook his head. "I've read the army's perimeter scans of that cannon. It does not seem to operate on a conventional reactor system like I had anticipated. Whatever energy source feeds it is alien to me. I fear the ion bombs you will employ might not be effective. If you run out of time, the cannon must be destroyed."

"What about the Death Star? If either Veers or I destroy the cannon, we might not be able to reproduce the technology. The Death Star…

"Is gone , commodore. Which is what I am here to tell you. Rebel starfighters infiltrated the Death Star's frame and detonated its reactor. The entire station is gone.

Maximilian blinked. It simply wasn't possible. The rebel fleet had been outnumbered fifteen to one. They had been trapped, the loyalists knew they were coming. If anyone was going to destroy the second Death Star, it would have been the Empire of the Hand. "No", Maximilian murmured. "No, I don't believe that is true." He activated a transmitter to the Devastation's electronic warfare division. "This is Commodore Maximilian, I want the ship's sensor log locked and searched for fraudulent transmissions, malware, spyware, everything. We may have received a fake transmission."

"This is the truth commodore. Carry out your data sweeps if you must, but do not break this transmission. There is more I need you to know." Thrawn said this in a deathly serious tone. The hologram switched to a picture of a steel debris field. Miles upon miles of charred durasteel plating were being pulled from a dense epicenter into a decaying orbit around a forested planet. Rebel battlecruisers were pushing through this wreckage, harrying a group of badly damaged Imperial star destroyers. One by one, the imperial vessels were fleeing into hyperspace. "This is being recorded from our surviving fire ship, the other was lost to the Rebel bombers in the fighting", said Thrawn. "This is the footage we were able to capture." The hologram sped through the scenes of the battle. It showed, Admiral Firmus's flagship, the Executor, plummeting into the Death Star. It showed the battlestation's shield failing. It showed the explosion. Maximilian was taken aback. Even though the static filled, blue hued medium of the hologram, the explosion felt titanic. Trillions upon trillions of pounds of armor, weaponry and men gone in an instant. Nothing else Maximilian had seen compared to it. Even if this were a fake, it would have taken months upon months to render in such detail. If that were the case, the Loyalists or Rebellion, whoever was sending it, already knew too much about the Empire of the Hand for much more damage to be done. "Belay my previous order", Maximilian said over the transmitter.

The hologram flickered back to Thrawn, who didn't look to be in much better spirits than Maximilian. "With Admiral Firmus killed and the Death Star destroyed, the Loyalist fleet will already be fleeing back towards the core worlds. They think they will be rushing towards rendezvous and resupply sites, in actuality, they will be fleeing back to us. This is a dangerous game we are about to play, and one that could have used more preparation time. We need to acquire what is left of the loyalist fleet before it is scuttled or captured by the Rebels. The last thing I want is a Star Destroyer in the hands of competent rebel captains. This is why you must prioritize Ryloth's space stations over the cannon. Those stations are one of the only refueling and repair depots in this arm of the galaxy. If they fall, the loyalists all across the Southeastern octant of the galaxy will devolve into independent warlords. They won't have the fuel to jump from system to system, making them ideal targets for a Rebellion that will no doubt be growing in numbers and coordination. We need to fortify what is left of the Empire before the Rebels pick us off one by one. That means we need hardpoints to defend. We need fuel, ammunition, and rations. We no longer need a superweapon, Maximilian. We need everything else.

Maximilian shifted his stance and cleared his throat. It had grown dry since Thrawn had started talking about the dire state of the galaxy. "What about the loyalist compliance, Grand Admiral? They fought like demons against us. What makes you think they would unify with The Empire of the Hand? In their eyes, we might as well be in X-Wings and MC-80s.

Thrawn paused as if in thought. "Emperor Palpatine was onboard the Death Star when the battle at Endor started. It is simply too illogical for him to have died there. Palpatine may rely on imbeciles and brutes to do his personal bidding, but I never considered him to be amongst their number. He would have had an escape route prepared…

"Several probably", Maximilian butted in, "Which is why you are about to order me to join our other fleets in an intercept mission, after everything is sorted out on Ryloth, of course. You want us to capture palpatine while he is relatively unprotected. If we got our hands on him, we could make him our puppet. We could make the loyalists dance to our tune."

"Not entirely."

"Excuse me?"

"You have most of it commodore, Commodore, but I am ordering Captain Balao and a quarter of your supporting vessels to join the hunt for palpatine. You will stay at Ryloth and ensure all of its assets fall into our hands."

"Sir, I have to protest. I joined the Empire of the Hand to get revenge for what Vader did to my family. He is bound to be protecting Palpatine. Please, let me go instead of Balao."

"Commodore, emotion should never make its way into a battle, especially not one that has to be as surgical as this. We need to capture Palpatine alive, which means we will have to measure our return fire closely. Your personal conflicts with Vader, and, by extension, Palpatine does not make you the best candidate for this mission. I need you where you are the most valuable, and that is at Ryloth."

Maximilian clenched his jaw. He wanted to preserve the Empire, and the ideals it once stood for, but he couldn't help but feel robbed. He wanted to see Vader defeated, by his hand if possible. He wanted the suffering Vader had inflicted on him and Cynthia returned a thousand fold. Rage was building behind Maximilian's eyes when he next spoke.

"Grand admiral, I promise you that I will abide by whatever rule of engagement you set out for this hunt. I stake it on my position. Captain McDonough is a competent leader. He can watch over Ryloth in my stead. Please, let me go."

"No", Thrawn responded with that icy voice. "And this is why. There is no guarantee we will find Palpatine. Our spies do not have his exact location pinned down. Therefore, can not send all of our veteran commanders off into the unknown. I am sending Balao instead of you because she is less critical to the Ryloth campaign."

"Campaign? Sir, this planet is already ours. We have grounded nearly every ship and secured the orbital stations. I hope we capture the cannon and detain the few loyalists who are fleeing, but even if we fail at both, Ryloth will still be ours. Maintaining the planet is a job for the engineers and reserve fleet. It is a job for Balao, not for me. Sure, Palpatine might not be found right away, but wouldn't it be better to have me hunting for him rather than diddling my thumbs here?"

"You are not diddling your thumbs." Thrawn responded with disgust. "Since you are ignorant of the true significance of this planet, let me give it to you plainly. Ryloth is not just a strategic asset, it is a political asset as well. The Rebels all but freed this planet from the Empire about 10 years ago. Their activity on Ryloth had progressed so far that multiple attempts on Palpatine's life were staged here. The first attempt failed, but went unnoticed, the second attempt also failed, but it drew Palpatine's attention. After that, communications from Ryloth went dark, the local ports were closed, and the orbital platforms you have just now captured were built. How do you think the loyalists were able to create their hyper velocity cannon without the rebels noticing? This once insignificant outer rim planet was made one of the most closely guarded imperial held territories in the galaxy. Palpatine has been able to do whatever he wants to the people of this world with complete secrecy for the past decade. That means he has more personal assets here than just the cannon, I guarantee it."

A subconscious shiver ran down Maximilian's spine. He had known relatively little about Palpatine before he joined the Empire of the hand, but in the past month, he had caught glimpses at who the Emperor actually was through declassified reports and recordings. Palpatine was a cruel, unstable man. The native population of Ryloth, the Twi'leks, would have suffered tremendously over those ten years, and Maximlian feared he would have to see the results of that suffering sooner rather than later. "I imagine the rebels still want this planet?" Maximilian asked, trying to keep the conversation going rather than letting himself think too much about what the loyalists may have done.

"They want it desperately", Thrawn responded. "The Empire's reoccupation of Ryloth was one of the Rebellion's greatest failures. Several Rebel commanders, chiefly admiral Hera Syndullla, have vowed to retake it. If we allowed them to do this, not only would they have access to all of the imperial installations that have been built over the last decade, they would have a powerful arsenal of political weaponry. If the Rebels took Ryloth, it would depict them as liberators, and news of Ryloth's suffering would spread all across the galaxy. That would complicate diplomatic relations for our new empire. I do not want it to happen."

"Very well, Grand Admiral, I will guard Ryloth for the Empire of the Hand, but remember my condition."

"Do remind me."

"When you capture Vader, I want the chance to speak with him. Then, I want to be on the firing line that kills him.

"We will have years worth of questioning for Vader. Even if we find him, you would have to wait."

"I"ve already been waiting years for a chance to set things straight with that monster. I can wait a bit longer. Just make sure I recieve the loaded rifle." Maximilian raised his hand to his forehead in a formal salute. "Until then, consider Ryloth in competent hand

…

Maximilian paced the deck of the command bridge, the anxious thudding of his steps filling the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the deck. Farther behind him, the holograms of the fleet's two most senior carrier captains stood at attention. Both of them were older than Maximilian. One sported short black hair and a graying beard, the other was clean shaven with an old scar on his chin. Everything considered, they had probably been in the navy a good fifteen years longer than Maximilian, so their input on the fleet's current predicament was as valuable as anybody's.

The captains reported that the carriers had been able to prepare seven squadrons worth of ion bombers in less time than was normally allotted to prepare three. It had been a risky, exhausting procedure, but it had been completed without incident. It was a marvel, a masterwork of coordination between the flight crews and mechanics of the carriers. Now, Maximilian had to decide how to utilize this miracle.

"We have ourselves a choice gentlemen", Maximilian said to the two captains. Our first potential target is the loyalist Star Destroyer taking off from the swamplands near the cannon. The loyalists have made every effort to ensure it launches, including the total deployment of their remaining war machines. Thus far, they are succeeding, and have prevented our ground forces from encircling the ship and bringing our AA cannons to bear. This leads me to believe the destroyer is ferrying key command personnel, such as Moff Perth, and exotic technology from the cannon. Under other, more lenient circumstances, it would have been our primary target."

"Regrettably, our second target complicates things." A hologram of the hyper velocity cannon appeared between Maximilian and the two captains. "As you two are already well aware", Maximilian began, "We were sent by high command to capture this structure. The army was able to take the surrounding facilities but the cannon itself still lies in loyalist control. We have about two hours until this cannon has a targeting solution on our fleet and the orbital stations. Grand Admiral Thrawn has given general Veers and myself the authority to destroy the cannon. Thrawn believes that the cannon will be resistant to ion weaponry, and that its complete destruction is the only way to safeguard our current holdings. However, that claim has yet to be tested."

Maximilian took a breath and rubbed his forehead in exhaustion. "Despite the miracle you and your crews have achieved in readying seven squadrons in such a short time, I don't think we will have enough ion ordnance to disable both targets. I would like your input on which one to strike. The captain with the scar was the first one to speak. "Sir, my flight crews and the crews of captain Moltke (gesturing towards the bearded captain) have plenty of experience taking out capital ships. I can say with certainty that if you sent us after the destroyer, we would disable it." The other captain nodded, then spoke. "I never like going into the unknown. If Grand Admiral Thrawn believes the loyalist's cannon will be resistant to ion ordnance, then I think it would be better if we attacked a target we know we can disable."

"Very well", Maximilian said with more than a hint of tired resignation in his voice. "I'll inform General Veers of our decision. Gentlemen, you are free to launch your squadrons."

Veers was no happier of the decision than Maximilian. The general looked even more tired than the commodore. Dark circles clung under his eyes, and his index finger nervously tapped the rim of his belt. Maximilian had hailed Veers from within the captain's cabin in the Devastation. This way, the general could speak his mind free of prying eyes and ears. "Do you want to receive our updated casualty report?" The general asked in a sullen, nearly whispered voice. Maximilian nodded. "Keep it brief if you can", he said. Veers took a shaky breath. We lost 17,000 troopers today. Not casualties, these are confirmed deaths. Maximilian clenched his teeth. The imperial army had suffered worse casualties in other battles, but they weren't serving under Palpatine's callous whip anymore. This was a very high death count. "And overall casualties?", Maximilian asked, not wanting the answer. "30,000 wounded or missing", the general said, "I haven't seen casualties this high since Hoth."

"And it could get worse soon if we don't act", Maximilian responded. There was a sudden flame of anger in the commodore's voice, and it wasn't hard for Veers to pick up. "Those casualties are not on your hands, Maximilian, they're on mine. Veers took a sharp breath and wiped something away from his right eye. "You want me to destroy the cannon." He stated more than asked. For the second time, Maximilian nodded. "We are running out of time, general. Moff Perth and those who are still fighting for him are fanatics. I suspect we've both served with their kind. We know what they are capable of. Their own orbital stations will be their first target, not our fleet. At the moment, those stations are worth more to us than the cannon." Veers rubbed his hands together and nodded. "I have men inside the cannon, you know. A company made it in before the loyalists blocked the entrances, and a squad of our elite Death Troopers infiltrated the facility before that."

"Clarify something for me", Maximilian said. "Do we have communication with them right now?"

"No."

"Do you think they possess sufficient numbers to fight their way to the cannon's reactor or control room?"

"The Death Troopers managed to turn off the shield, they must have gotten close."

"Yes, but that was several hours ago. All of the reports I've received say the cannon is still functional."

"That is correct."

There was a quiet between the two commanders. At length, Maximilian spoke. "How long would it take your artillery to damage the cannon beyond its operational integrity?"

"An hour of heavy shelling to be on the safe side", Veers responded. Maximilian looked down at his watch. An hour and a half remained before the cannon had a firing solution on the stations. "We have 25 minutes to wait for a miracle.", the commodore said with a less than confident voice. "After that, do what you have to."

…

"Remember your targets people!"

"Squad one - two leader, we have the starboard shield generator."

"Squad three - four leader, targeting the port shield generator."

"Squad five - seven leader, flanking venterally for a pass on the reactor.

Numerous hologram projections fed into the Devastation's control bridge. They depicted the seven tie bomber squadrons that had been launched to intercept the enemy destroyer. Veers had pulled the army back into a defensive perimeter once it had been established that the navy would handle the destroyer. Without further impedance from the army's heavy guns, the loyalist destroyer had launched quickly. However, it had not launched uninjured.

An armor piercing shell from one of Veer's heavy guns had plummeted through the moored vessel's shields and had detonated within the dorsal casemate. Smoke billowed out of every gunroom, missile launcher, and broken window around the shell's entry hole. It would have been a killing blow if the destroyer had been in vacuum. Considering the loyalist destroyer was willing to take a steep path towards the planet's atmosphere, it was likely the crew had time to seal off the damaged decks.

The tie bombers were en route to intercept the vessel the moment it broke free of the planet's atmosphere. Traveling through the atmosphere would leave the destroyer with relatively weak shields. It was a perfect target. "Contact in two minutes, arm ion torpedoes", said leader 1-2. The sound of warhead safety's being clicked off filled the transmissions. The first volley from squads one through 4 was away. The solid propellant in the warheads left brilliant white trails as the torpedoes rocketed towards the destroyer. The first couple warheads detonated against the destroyer's shields, quickly changing the coloration from transparent, to red before popping the shields around the bridge entirely. The second volly found their mark. The torpedoes penetrated the bulbous shield generators. And thick tendrils of icy blue lightning spread across the ship's bridge. Both shield generators blackened and died. The ship was defenseless.

Squads five through seven were ready for this. They had already dipped below the ailing destroyer, locking on to its now shieldless reactor bulb. The click of safeties being deactivated filled the transmission again, and Maximilian couldn't help but smile. There was nothing Perth could do. He was theirs.

"This is squad 5-7 leader to command. We're getting an odd readout on our targeting computers. Some of our bombers are registering a blip on their systems. We should have picked it up on visual scanning by now."

Maximilian furrowed his brow as he read over the instrument reports from the bombers. "It could be a film of atmospheric particles evaporating off the destroyer's hull", he broadcasted to the pilots. It shouldn't interfere with your torpedoes' accuracy. Stay alert nonetheless."

"Acknowledged", responded 5-7 leader. "Approaching engagement range. Fire on my…" The feed to 5-7 leader went black, along with the feed of six other bombers and all but one of the tie fighter escorts. The pict feeds from the remaining starships became chaos.

"What was that thing?"
"Bank right! Bank right! Don't let it get behind you!"

"My wings clipped! I can't control her!"

"There's a missile lock on me!"

"Lose your payload and start dogfighting!"

"What happened to our escort!?"

"Torpedoes away!"

"My magazine's breached!"

More and more of the bomber feeds went dark, causing a coldness to spread through Maximilian. His heart was racing. These were good pilots, some of the best in the empire. What was ripping them apart? An electronics officer paused a frame from one of the bomber's video feeds and enlarged the image. The image was still fairly grainy, but it was detailed enough to make out some specifics. There was only one enemy ship. It was roughly triangular in shape and seemed to be a couple meters longer than an imperial shuttle. Its rear compartment was composed of a heavily armored sphere and two armored wings (similar to that on a tie fighter). The triangular bow ended briefly before coming to a point in what appeared to be a slew of sensors and torpedo tubes. Two heavy ion engines sat just behind the sphere (Maximilian assumed it to be the cockpit) and glowed with an angry green hue. Maximilian had never seen a ship of dogfighting capability like it before.

"I took the liberty of … cross referencing this image with … our database", said someone behind Maximilian. The voice was light, hoarse, and interrupted with heavy breaths. Maximilian turned and saw a tall female officer whose uniform was soaked through around the collar with sweat. Her badge indicated she was from the intelligence department of the ship, four decks below the bridge. Obviously, she had gotten here in a hurry. In her hand she held a thin document folder.

"You would have saved time by sending a copy of whatever this is to my cabin", Maximilian said.

"It's… A classified document, sir", was her response. "I thought… bringing it in person would demonstrate its… authenticity "

"All right, what am I looking at?" Maximilian asked.

The officer took out a collection of meticulously drawn blueprints. "Sienar fleet systems made blueprints for a combat shuttle matching the dimensions of this unknown vessel. Only one model was commissioned… for Emperor Palpatine no less. Its called the Scimitar. It has a cloak, capital ship grade weaponry. Seeing one in action is quite a development. I've been searching for it for a long time actually. Was starting to think Seinar hadn't ever gotten past the testing phase of development." The officer was obviously excited at seeing the craft, even as it was eviscerating the friendly bomber squadron. Maximilian held up his hand, silencing her. "Relay any weaknesses you know of this thing to the bridge crews." The intelligence officer nodded briskly and ran off. Maximilian pointed at the communications officer who had been watching the conversation. "Be ready to send that information to our pilots. As for the moment, transmit command code "Overwhelming Odds" to the hangar. They will know what to do with it. Also, I want you to contact McDonnah. Tell him he has fleet command for now." With that, Maximilian excited the command deck and began making his way to the Devastatoion's hangar.

TIE Defender

Maximilian stood in seething, rageful silence as one of the Devastation's elevators carried him down to the hangar. He had abandoned his commodore's coat and now wore the pressure sleeve of a tie fighter pilot. The silence was periodically interrupted as Maximilian struggled with his suit. He hadn't worn a pilot's outfit in years and was on his third try attempting to get the life support system fastened to his chest. With an audible click, the commodore finally succeeded in getting his suit on, and not a moment too soon.

The elevator doors opened abruptly and the deafening sound of the hangar rushed in. There was the shouting of flight crews and the whirring of hydraulic claws hoisting damaged fighters up into the repair decks. An angle grinder was screeching near the front of the hangar as a mechanic freed a pilot from a crashed TIE fighter. Maximilian jogged through this until he reached the back of the hangar. There, a hydraulic claw descended from a large, rectangular shaft in the ceiling. A small group of engineers, pilots, and ensigns were gathered around the shaft, watching what was being lowered into a steel inspection rigging.

In many ways, the craft suspended in front of Maximilian resembled a TIE fighter. It had a spherical cockpit with a prominent front facing viewport and a pair of ion thrusters in the rear. It also had the iconic solar panel array given to all TIE starfighters. The differences, however, were very noticeable. Unlike a standard TIE, this craft had three "wings" (solar panel arrays) which forked off into six heavy laser cannons. Between the three pairs of cannons were high velocity torpedo tubes, along with a slew of intricate maneuvering systems. At the rear of the craft, between the two ion thrusters, was a heavy, conical shield generator. In fact, the entire craft was incredibly heavy for a TIE. It was just as tall as a standard TIE fighter, but half a wing longer. The hydraulic claw struggled against the weight as it finalized the craft's descent into the inspection rigging. The rigging itself warped slightly under the craft's unconventional weight. Maximilian clenched his fists as he stared up at the craft. He could almost feel his own rage being reflected off of the thing. It looked like a truly wrathful instrument of war.

"Sir, your TIE Defender will be prepped in three minutes, '' said an old flight control officer who had walked up beside the vessel. Maximilian nodded. It was the first time he had heard the vessel's actual name used outside of classified debriefings, and he suspected it was the first time the flight control officer had ever worked on one. Maximilian had only One Defender in the Devastation's hold for testing purposes. It had been given to the task force in hopes that it could be compared with other space superiority star fighters (both loyalist and rebel) in a controlled environment. Maximilian had read some of the files on the starfighter (mainly the control scheme) before the task force had been in transit to Ryloth. As he climbed into the cockpit, he wished he had spent more time looking over the manuals.

"There is an urgent message for you sir, coming from the Faithful", said the flight control officer, handing up a hologram puck. Maximilian frowned under his pilot's helmet. He didn't need this distraction. The hologram buzzed into life, displaying an incredibly angry Mcdonnah. "What the hell are you doing Maximilian?!" The captain said without bothering to salute.

"I'm going to clear the way for our bombers. Their TIE fighter escort is all but destroyed, and Perth stands on the brink of escape."

"Right. So what's your plan exactly? Send a single prototype fighter and pretend it will make a difference. Commodore, the Faithful and Rampage have already sent their own fighter escorts. We don't need to risk losing the Defender or you."

"I appreciate your counsel, McDonnah, but my decision is final."
"Your decision is lunacy! When is the last time you've been in a starfighter?"

"A simulation last week."

"Ok. What about an actual starfighter?"

There was a pause as Maximilian switched on the Defender's power plant. The vessel gave a soft, low humm, and an oily film appeared along the hull as Maximilian charged up its shields. The inspection rigging groaned as the Defender's repulsor lift systems took more and more of the ship's weight. "The last time I was in a tie fighter was … a little less than two years ago. For a hull inspection."

"Bloody hell commodore!" Send one of your best pilots instead of yourself. This risk isn't necessary!"

"It is McDonnah!" Maximilian snarled. "My best pilots are already out there, and they are getting ripped apart! I'm not going to leave them. I'm not letting Perth get away."

"Is that the only reason?" McDonnah asked. "Because you seem completely unhinged right now."

"I will hear no more of this McDonnah" Take good care of the fleet while I'm away."

"McDonnah looked down and gave a frustrated sigh. "Don't die on me", he said and ended the transmission.

McDonnah was right, of course. There was another motive fueling Maximilian's rage. Emperor Palpatine had been described as a deeply distrusting person. If the Empire of the Hand's intelligence was correct and the Scimitar was one of his personal vessels, then who would have the authority to pilot it? His guards, perhaps, but they rarely left his side. What other enforcers did Palpatine trust enough to give his personal toys to. They would have to be exceedingly loyal, and a good pilot to boot. One name had surfaced in Maximilian's head and fed a flame of wrath like a brick of magnesium in a furnace. Vader. It pulsed in Maximilian's head over and over again. Vader was supposed to be at Endor, but, even if there was the slightest chance it was him, Maximilian was willing to leap at it.

Maximilian gently tugged on the joystick in front of him, causing the Defender to rise out of the inspection rigging entirely. The low humming in the cockpit had become a fierce growl. Maximilian set his helmet display to dampen the noise as he stared out of the hangar into space. Out of the corner of the hangar, Maximilian could see Ryloth. Smoke pillars were visible even from orbit, the sites of burning destroyers and bombed fascilities. On the far eastern horizon, one vast cloud of smoke eclipsed the others. It spread miles and miles before pooling in the planet's lower atmosphere. Maximilian knew what fed that fire. Veers had followed his orders. The shelling of the cannon had begun.

The voice of the flight control officer suddenly played through the transmitter in Maximilian's helmet. "Sir, your Defender is cleared for launch. Good luck". Maximilian gripped the joystick tightly. Goosebumps spread down his neck as the pressure tight hatch was sealed above him. "Alright, let's see what we have here." Maximilian cycled through the system display on the dashboard in front of him. Engines were green, cannons were green, torpedo magazines were full, shields were charged, internal cockpit pressure was good, dampener fields were functional. The list went on. Everything was good. The ship was now hovering above the inspection rigging. More and more of the hangar staff had turned to watch the fighter launch. Maximilian tilted the joystick gently forwards and the defender lept out of the hangar into the darkness of space.

The ship was fast. Very fast. Already, the Devastation appeared as little more than a toy in the distance. Maximilian hadn't even put the Defender's engines to full bore yet. "All right Girl", Maximilian whispered through his helmet, "Win me an engagement". He shunted power to full engines and leaned on the joystick. The Defender rocketed forwards, easily passing the friendly TIE fighters sent from the Rampage and Faithful. "This is Commodore Maximilian De La Chateau to all available fighter squadrons. Leave the Scimitar to me. We need to draw fire away from our bombers as they make their approach. This is our last chance to prevent that loyalist destroyer from leaving the system. Understood?" There was a long list of non vocal confirmations in the bottom right of Maximilian's visor. The commodore smiled grimly. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed this.

"Keep your eyes on your targeting computers", Maximilian broadcasted to the pilots behind him. The sensor blip that had played over the bomber's pict feed occured conveniently before the Scimitar had engaged. It may have been invisible to the unaided eye, but not entirely, it seemed, to their sensors. That hadn't been enough to save the bombers though. Out of the seven squadrons that had launched, barely three remained. Most were flying tight circles, trying to get a lock on the Scimitar. Every couple of minutes, a bomber would go up in flames, killed by their unseen enemy. This prompting the remaining squads to frantically fire off their lazer cannons into space. To Maximilian, it looked like a school of fish being preyed upon by a hidden predator. It wasn't a dog fight, it was a slaughter.

Even so, many of the bomber pilots had completed the mission to the best of their ability. The loyalist destroyer had suffered heavy damage. Both its shield generators were gone and numerous craters had been punched through the ship's hull. Even as far out as Maximilian was, he could see the destroyer venting atmosphere. It was barely a space worthy vessel anymore. Yet the destroyer's engines and reactor remained intact. It was still capable of making the jump to hyperspace, and Maximilian knew Perth would be willing to attempt it.

Before Maximilian reached the bombers, he cut his engines entirely. The Defender was still hurtling through space leagues faster than any TIE fighter, but now it was doing so silently. Performing this maneuver was a grave risk, of course. If the Scimitar somehow managed to lock onto Maximilian, there would only be a split second to maneuver. Also, the reinforcements from the fleet were still minutes away. Maximilian was alone. His eyes darted between the targeting computer and the cockpit's viewports as sweat began to accumulate between his scalp and his helmet. His hands shook as they maneuvered the cockpit's instruments. He was now drifting over the besieged bomber squadrons. They had not noticed him, perhaps the Scimitar had not either.

"Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep." The targeting computer had caught a miniscule blip behind the Defender. It was close. Without fully realizing he had done so, Maximilian twisted the joystick. The Defender made a sharp barrel roll to the right as a purple jet of propellant whizzed through the space he had just been occupying. It had been a high grade proton torpedo. Shields or no, it would have killed him.

Maximilian had lost his element of surprise. All that mattered now was that he kept moving until he could get another target lock. He accelerated to full speed almost immediately, and the Defender's power plant roared. Maximilian felt a tingling sensation as the ship's damper field labored to fend off the lethal G-forces working on his body. He pitched the Defender into another tight turn in an attempt to get a target lock. There was nothing in front of him but the thin trail of smoke left by the torpedo.

Half a second passed, and Maximilian was readying to make another sharp turn, but something caught his eye. The torpedo's smoke trail parted ever so briefly 40 degrees left of the Defender's forward end, as if a gentle wind had blown through it. Maximilian's hands flew over the controls and the Defender snapped to the coordinates lightning quick. Maximilian squeezed the two triggers installed on the joystick so hard his knuckles turned white under his gloves. A torrent of wrathful, jade cannonfire and glaring rockets erupted from the Defender's weapon systems. It did not look like a starfighter engaging a target, it looked like a full broadside salvo from a corvette.

Most of the ordinance passed harmlessly into space, but two rockets found their mark. Two filthy, oily explosions lit up the space in front of the ship. Maximilian's heart jumped. Had he done it? The Scimitar answered that for him. A barrage of the brightest canon fire he had ever seen erupted from in front of him. Then, a stream of blinding scarlet hurtled several meters from the cockpit. Even with his helmet's auto darkening features, Maximilian was left blind for several seconds. Once he regained his senses, Maximilian heard Alarmas flared up around him, and his eyes darted to the hull integrity display. At first he thought his eyesight hadn't fully returned. The readout couldn't be right, but the longer he looked, the more real it became. It was bad. The starboard wing was little more than a melted stump, and the cockpit had been seared so badly that molten durasteel had flowed over the starboard viewport to the rear of the craft and was now clogging the engines. Maximilian couldn't believe it. The Defender had shields that could withstand capitol ship grade turbolaser fire, but they had been completely cooked off. Not from a direct hit, but from proximity cannon fire alone. The Scimitar's missed salvo had been a hair's width away from killing him.

After taking a couple more seconds pressing responseless buttons along the dash, Maximilian closed his eyes and sunk into the cockpit chair. There was nothing he could do now. The follow up salvo would get him. He knew he didn't have enough control surfaces left to maneuver quick enough, nor engine power to flee. Even if he did, it seemed he couldn't out pilot the Scimitar. McDonnah had been right. This had been a mistake. Maximilian waited in his durasteel casket. He wondered if he would see Cynthia again. He wondered how he was going to apologize to her… for everything. After some time, he got irritated. The Scimitar should have finished him off by now. Had the bastard gone back for the bombers?

Rage flowed back into Maximilian, replacing his fatalism entirely. "That cocky bastard!" He said aloud. Maximilian re checked his displays. The electrical systems in the dorsal wing had been fried, so it was useless. He didn't have a starboard wing anymore, nor engines. However, he still had weapon systems and maneuvering surfaces on the port side wing. "Screw it." Maximilian mumbled. He bent the joystick and the defender began to ponderously turn starboard, following direction of the Scimitar's pass. Ever so slowly the ship turned, and Maximilian waited with his fingers over the trigger. As the Defender turned to take in a wider view, Maximilian noticed the bombers were gone. Perhaps he had bought them enough time to reach the enemy destroyer. That is, if the Scimitar hadn't just chased them to a new killing ground. The smoke lingering around the Defender became darker and more oily. It was pouring viciously from somewhere. Maximilian didn't dare hope, but his finger lined the trigger more loosely. That was when he saw his foe. Or what was left of it.

It was clear why the Scimitar had missed. The fearsome vessel had taken a hit directly to the cockpit and port wing. It slowly drifted, uncloaked, past the Defender, so close that Maximilian worried the two ships might collide. He could see the interior of the spherical cockpit through the crater the Defender's rocket had made. Warning lights were flashing on and off with all the brilliance of a vessel that still thought itself operational. Maximilian tried to find a pilot, but the crater passed from his vision as the Scimitar rotated along its axis. Massive rotary cannons glowed red hot between the vessel's armored wings. They were so close that Maximimilian could still see the multi-barreled weapons spinning in their sockets. He wondered if the pilot was still holding down the trigger. He wished desperately that the pilot had been Vader.

"Beeeep….. Beeeep….". Maximilian realized that the transmission notifier in his helmet had been going off this entire time, but had been drowned out by the plethora of other alarms and buzzers in the cabin. With justifiably shaky hands, he pressed the side of his flight helmet to let the transmission through. "Your combat footage just made the highlight reel around here!" Exclaimed a familiar voice through the transmitter. Maximilian grinned. It was McDonnah. "I'm going to be straight with you Maximilian", The captain continued. "There are safer ways to fish for promotions than this. You started playing sabacc with the devil the moment you stepped into the Defender, and, frankly, it began lookin' like you were going to lose the pot. Hang tight. We'll send a shuttle for you, and before you tell me, yes, we will send a salvage vessel for the Scimitar.

Maximilian leaned his head against the cockpit's headrest. His heart was still beating obscenely fast, and he couldn't keep his hands from shaking. He just wanted to sit there in the dark and await rescue. He had done enough, hadn't he? "McDonnah, Give me an update on the loyalist destroyer. Have our bombers managed to disable it?"

"About that, our bombers resumed their chase the moment you engaged the Scimitar, but, well, see for yourself."

A small pict feed was projected on the inside of Maximilian's helmet. It displayed the last couple bomber squadrons rallying with the fighter escorts from the fleet. They had careened towards the loyalist destroyer at full bore, and had already selected attack vectors. Torpedoes had been locked and sent, but it had been too late. The destroyer's engines flashed a brilliant white and the vessel disappeared into hyperspace. Maximilian sat there in silence, the Defender drifting into view of Ryloth. There, hundreds upon hundreds of miles below him was the cannon. It was burning so ferociously Maximilian had to squint. The defender continued drifting until Maximilian saw the fleet. It seemed tiny, almost irrelevant compared to the massive bonfire on the planet's surface. Veers had upheld his duty, Maximilian, on the other hand, had failed. As the rescue shuttle approached the Defender, Maximilian punched the Defender's hull so hard his knuckles broke.

Greener Pastures

(Seven years later, Chandrilla's capitol museum district, Gold Leader family restaurant)

"Can I get another triple bossy deluxe?" Asked an unbelievably irritating, gravelly voice through the drive through speaker. "Sure! What else can I get you today?" Abercrombie asked with his expensive new translator. "Yeah, do you carry any… uhh… blue milk? I need four, no, seven cartens." Abercrombie typed the request into the register. It was the 19th item this customer had ordered, and a long line of speeders and ground vehicles had accumulated all the way out into the street.

As it turned out, finding reliable workers for Jaeleno's restaurant had proven quite difficult. Any slip up, any commotion would attract the police's attention, and the fledgling business did not yet have the assets to fully hide the fact that it was indeed a money laundry. The basement safe literally had several million credits in it, a good deal more than any small restaurant should ever make in its first couple days of business.

Jaeleno had originally wanted to cook everything himself, but had gotten completely burnt out after the first day of business. "I didn't expect my food to be this popular!'' He had told Abercrombie after the first, unreasonably long shift. After that terrible first day, they quickly scrounged up a skeleton crew from some of their more inconspicuous associates. Jaeleno had fathered many terrible plans, but this was without a doubt the most tiring and ill prepared of them.

"Anything else?" Abercrombie asked again. "Nah. We fine." The voice answered. It seemed amused with itself. A ludicrously expensive, glossy black land cruiser full of blinged up weekquay then pulled up to the window. The driver seemed far too old to drive, and Abercrombie could see his cataracts behind the thick rimmed goggles he wore. Nonetheless, the driver seemed perfectly at ease operating the vehicle and the ten burly passengers in the back seemed completely comfortable with the oldster driving. It wasn't hard to notice the holsters and suspicious bulges in the passenger's garments.

The oldster took off his goggles and squinted at Abercrombie. "Hey pal", he began with that annoying voice "Are my eyes deceiving me, or are you a lizard monkey?" Abercrombie wanted to say "No, I'm a wampa" but he held his tongue. Instead, he nodded and said, "I am".

"Hmmm", the old weekqay said, as he stared down at abercrombie. A smile spead over his wrinkled lips. He began wheezing with laughter. "My goodness ! Your kind can talk! Such a thing I never suspected! HA! HA!" Abercrombie sat there behind the drive through window uncertain of how to respond. He settled with saying, "Your food will be ready in a moment. Please pull up around the corner and we will deliver it to you."

The old timer took a long time to stop laughing. When he spoke next, there was still mirth in his voice, but it carried an undertone of seriousness. Abercrombie had come to recognize that tone from the bliss trade. "Actually, my boys and I will take it in the parking lot. Your boss, Jaelen. No… Jaeleno wanted a word with us. Might as well save the time and bring the food with him. Until then, farewell Mr. literate lizard monkey. With a thick plume of exhaust, the camper and its inhabitants pulled away without paying.

"What did you do this time Jaeleno!" Abercrombie shouted as he stormed into Jaeleno's office near the back of the kitchen "Abercrombie, would it ever hurt you to knock?" Jaeleno sighed. He was in the process of stuffing credits into the vase of a plastic plant he had next to his desk, along with what looked like a pocket knife and a blaster pistol. "Smooth" abercrombie grumbled, closing the door. "You know, we have enough money for a lock."

"But not enough time it would seem." Jaeleno rocked the base of the plant and seemed satisfied that it didn't give off the rattling of loose credits. He nodded to himself satisfactorily. "Onto the topic of what I did this time", he then said. "What got here first, the wine truck or the pirates?"

"It's a bunch of degenerates in a camper."

"Was it a land cruiser, something big that looked like it was Corellian built?"

"I mean, yeah, it was expensive looking, but they really didn't…"

"Yep, that would be the pirates. Let's not keep them waiting."

The land cruiser was parked diagonally through five of the reserved employee parking spots in the back lot. The old driver was outside, leaning against the exquisitely painted black and silver hull. The moment Jaeleno exited the restaurant (carrying a large plastic bag of food), the old timer gave a conman's smile. Jaeleno returned it in kind and strode over.

"Ahh, you must be Jaeleno Sobyaki, a model entrepreneur if ever I've met one."

"You are too kind. I presume I am talking with Captain Hondo Onaka. Who else would carry himself and his crew with such unparalleled suaveness!"

"Ha! You are attempting to flatter us , and we humbly accept the gesture! Well, Mr. Sobayaki, Hand over the food and let us discuss our rates."

Jaeleno handed over the plastic bag, which the weequay dug into with all the pomp and relish befitting a pirate crew. When they all had their respective vittles, Hondo resumed the conversation. "I will not lie to you Mr. Sobayaki, my services will be expensive. You see, a business partner of mine has recently met an unfortunate end, and my crew and I are losing incentive to stay on this planet. Not to mention, talk of imperial espionage is flooding the streets, ruining people's appetites so to speak. If I recall your message correctly, you were willing to pay us handsomely for a quick and easy job. I must admit, that sparked my interest, but anyone can make broad boasts like that. Tell me, why should we stay on Chandrila?"

Abercrombie could see Jaeleno swallow. There was something about the way Hondo talked that indicated he was a lot more intelligent than he was letting on. Abercrombie didn't know how Jaeleno had found this pirate in the first place, but chances were he had not been nearly careful enough. Jaeleno took a breath and began. "I can provide you with 700,000 republic credits, half of which will be up front. As you've already mentioned, the job I have in mind will be easy. It's a quick smuggling operation really. I doubt you will even have to fire your weapons. How does that sound?" There was a murmer amongst the pirates. Onaka gave a disingenuous laugh before responding.

"It sounds like you're wasting our time. 700,000 republic credits. Let's see. You factor in fuel, food, women for all my men, combine that with the inflation that's been going around and it wouldn't last us a week. Is it worth it to stay in Chandrila for this? I think not."

"What would make it worth your time then?"

"A lot more money! If you are thinking we'll bait on 700,000 credits, you are thinking like a fool! Let's see. Our lowest rate would be , hmmm, 5 million credits for the barest or services."

"Jaeleno, can I have a word", Abercrombie jutted in. Jaeleno gave him an irritated glance but conceded. "A moment gentlemen'', he said to the pirates. Hondo shrugged. "We are still eating, take your time", he replied. Once the two were a sufficient distance from the pirates, Abercrombie opened up on Jaeleno. "These hicks are scamming us, Jaeleno. What are they even for?"

"Abercrombie, we have a lot of credits and very little protection. I don't know how liked Mutsa Wusha was amongst the Hutts, but I'd rather have more friends with guns on our side before they start sending bounty hunters to investigate."

"You do know the Hutt cartels are richer than us, right? Even with everything we took from Wusha, we barely have a fraction of their wealth. Hiring these hicks will only result with a knife in our backs. All the Hutts would need to do is give these pirates a better deal and they would turn on us in a heartbeat."

"But we only need them for one job. Sure, the Hutt cartels are a lot richer than us, but, if I am any judge of character, Mutsa wusha was keeping things from them. We may have an advantage yet.

"Ok. What advantage might that be?"

"Information. How many of Wusha's paper files were you able to go over?"

"Not many. I've been too busy making a record of our credits, precious metal assets, and making sure this new business doesn't fall apart. You know, the stuff that both of us should be concerned with right now.

"But in doing so, you missed our ace in the hole. Mutsa Wusha had information on hundreds of senators, and other chandrillan dignitaries. It must have been how she stayed politically immune. Stars above, there was even dirt, and not passing dirt, big stuff, on chancellor Mothma and senator Organa in there. I've memorized it all! Abercrombie, we only need to use these pirates once. Captain Onaka over there supplied weapons to the Rebellion. I've even heard he's cozy with Admiral Syndulla! We use him to smuggle us into the capitol during the admiral's party, have him wait around to smuggle us out, and I'll do the rest. Imagine! We could coax the senators into granting us amnesty while also acquiring some militarily grade security. It might be the only lasting insurance we have right now. Think about it! All the senators will want us alive so they can purchase information about each other. It couldn't go wrong!

Abercrombie rubbed his hands together. "Or", he began, "The senators send bounty hunters of their own to shut us up." Jaeleno stroked his chin thoughtfully as he looked up at the distant capitol building. He said nothing.

"It sounds like we've gotten desperate", Abercrombie muttered. Jaeleno chuckled softly to himself. "Yeah, we have."

The two walked back over to the assembled pirates. Eerily enough, Captain Onaka had been watching them the entire time. Abercrombie wondered if he had somehow heard them. The captain stirred. "You know, we are willing to discuss prices to match the requirements of the job", Onaka said. "If this job truly is as quick and easy as you are making it out to be, then I suppose quick credits are better than no credits." The pirates all nodded, murmuring as if Onaka's word was providence. "Give us your full proposal, and we may give you an updated price."

Jaeleno stepped forwards and the motley crew of weequay glanced up at him between bites of food and sips of blue milk. Onaka was the only one who held Jaeleno with unbroken eye contact.

"I need to get into the capitol building for Admiral Hera Syndulla's retirement party, and I need a safe way out. I heard you guys helped the rebellion during the war. Perhaps, someone in the capital still owes you a favor. I need to capitalize on that favor." Onaka nodded slowly. "None of us are secretive souls, but I am left wondering. How is it you know our business?"

"I did some homework on the senators. You guys popped up on more than a couple occasions. Listen, that's not important to me. I need to be at the party. You seem like my only hope at getting in there without being arrested."

"Your only hope?" Ooh that sounds expensive! Yet again, it hasn't been the first time I've gotten into the capitol, and we've all certainly done worse jobs for less. Could your 'humble' diner part with…four million credits."

Jaeleno smirked. "Three million, otherwise I might as well attempt this myself." Onkaka gave the smirk right back. "It looks like you might have to. Of course, I wonder how much more difficult that would be. It gets me thinking, how much would stunning Ms. Syndulla be willing to pay in order to know who's coming to her retirement party uninvited. I wouldn't be surprised if her offer looked a bit better than yours." Jaeleno's smirk disappeared. He held Onkaka's stare for several moments, like a sabaak player trying to guess the move of his opponent. It didn't take long for him to cave.

"Four million credits it is", Jaeleno said with fake positivity. All the pirates raised their plastic milk jugs and soft drinks to Jaeleno. Some of them started cheering. Onaka gave a wide smile of golden teeth and pulled out a diamond studded liquor flask from his vest pocket. "A toast then, to our new client". The captain then undid the lid and drank heavily. The entire crew burst out into cheers, and began toasting each other with their plastic cups. "I'll go get the money", Abercrombie sighed as he trudged back to the restaurant.

Inside The Capitol

Vivian stood in the dry cold of the police station's morgue. Just in front of her was a dark green plastic body bag. A name tag was dangling from the bag's zipper. It read, "Case 01932 - Yafu Malik". Vivian checked her electronic watch. She had six minutes before the Morgue's cameras came back online, plenty of time to confirm what she had overheard. She double checked that her nylon gloves were tear free before she pulled back on the zipper.

The first thing she saw were his metal legs. One was badly warped. A patch of carbon scoring flowed from a power socket where the thigh would have been. The other leg was more or less intact, but both were covered in dark red (nearly black) lines of dried blood. Vivian pulled the zipper back further, exposing the rest of Yauf's corpse. It was a ghastly sight. His mechanical waist was completely covered in a film of coagulated blood, which originated from a gaping hole through his sternum. His lifeless eyes were open and he was staring up at the ceiling with a wistful expression.

Vivian zipped the body bag closed. It was taking all her concentration to suppress the flight or fight response so as to not start sweating. Ghaghikh was still somewhere in the building after all. She had come to this precinct knowing she would have to silence Yafu by any means necessary, but seeing his corpse still didn't bode well with her. It hadn't been a clean death, and she admired that Yafu had gone down fighting. Vivian couldn't help but feel sorry for the crippled pilot. He had survived the war, and for what? To die as a washed up drug dealer? She shivered. How close had she been to meeting the same fate? Vivian closed the zipper and walked away from the body bag. Silently, she opened the morgue's steel door (held open by a carefully placed ID card) and slipped out into the hallway. By the time the cameras were back on, she was already in the first floor break room.

Captain Ghaghikh Lghaghg walked into the break room shortly afterwards, a green skinned Merialian woman was trailing behind him. They both looked at Vivian quizzically. "Alida, where were you just now?" Ghaghikh asked. Vivian got up from her seat smoothly. She had plenty of time to come up with an answer. "The bathroom", she said with 110% confidence. That disarmed Ghaghikh. "My apologies then." He cleared his throat. "While you were indisposed, you happened to miss today's briefing. Listen, you may operate on your own timetable elsewhere, but if you want to stay as an observer in this precinct, you have to follow our procedures."

"Duly noted and sorry about that.", Vivian said. She worked in an apologetic tone to her voice that was intended to display earnesty and trigger a guilt response in the accuser. She couldn't tell whether Ghaghikh had bought it. "Nothing to be done about it now", the transdocian gruffly responded. "We're going to the capitol building to explain everything that's happened this month to the chancellor. If you have anything useful to add, you're allowed to accompany us."

"Gladly", Vivian said as she got up from her seat. "Will it just be the three of us then?"

"No, There will be the chancellor's honor guard, the precinct detectives, and the medical examiner.

"Splendid", Vivian said, walking over to the two officers. "I believe we will have this imperial spy cornered soon enough."

"One can hope", Ghaghikh grumbled as he unlocked the precinct's garage

Naveen didn't know what to think of this Twi'lek woman. "What was her name again?" she thought to herself. "Alida. It was Alida." She didn't know why Ghaghikh would bring an outside agent into the case when things were so hot. Yet again, she didn't have much personal experience to speak of. Maybe this was normal. Regardless, Naveen found it concerning how Alida managed to get under the captain's skin. She noticed him glancing over his shoulder at the Twi'lek, controlling his breathing and being otherwise worrisome. What was even more concerning was the fact Ghaghikh wanted Naveen to keep an eye on Alida, even in the light of Yafu's murder. Ok, so Alida couldn't be trusted, but then why was she coming with them to see the Chancellor in the first place?

Naveen followed Ghaghikh into the garage. There, the precinct's armored transport speeder sat like a great black bear. When Naveen had first applied she had been giddy about the chance of riding in it. Now, she felt nothing as she climbed into its armored hull. She took the front passenger seat next to Ghaghikh, and watched Alida through the rear view mirror. The Twilek noticed Naveen and smiled at her through the mirror. Naveen returned it, but quickly looked away. That smile seemed genuine enough, but Naveen couldn't help but worry. There was something wrong about this.

The speeder left the garage and began making its way through the maze of stop lights and pedestrian crossings that was the city center. The capitol building was only five miles away, but it might as well have been 20 with the traffic. "Since you missed the briefing, I'll try to get you up to speed". Ghaghikh said to Alida. We will be escorted to the chancellor's office by the capitol honor guard. They will leave us in a lobby on the 521st floor. Once we get there, I will enter the chancellor's office with the medical examiner. Do not come in until I call you. Got it?" Naveen nodded and Alida gave another smile in the back. "Loud and clear", she said.

The traffic crawled to a standstill causing Ghaghikh to snarl. "It's a Sunday! Why is everyone out?" More time passed and Ghaghikh began nervously glancing at the speeder's electronic clock. "Scorekeeper's talons", he muttered, "We're going to be late." The expansive line of cars finally rerouted northwards towards the museum district, and the armored speeder was free to run down the last three blocks to the capitol. Naveen gazed out the window at the giant marble structure in front of her. Towering columns ribbed the sides of the building, And circular, ivy-covered atrium crowned the upper levels. The building was not much larger than its neighbors, but it certainly made up for that in its regal appearance. Naveen had always wanted to get inside the capitol, and despite the terror she had experienced this week, it was still a joyful experience knowing she might be able to see the Chancellor today. Her heartbeat quickened as the speeder neared the capitol's base.

A rectangular slab of marble swung down, into the capitol's foundation. Ghaghikh made a right turn and drove the speeder off the street, into the building. Once they were in, a valet droid walked up to the speeder. "Hello", it said in a cheerful voice. "Can I park your vehicle for…"

"No", Ghaghikh interrupted. "Just tell us where to go."

"Six floors down, next to the elevator. Parking spot designation 189."

Ghaghikh began making loops lower and lower into the parking structure. "You should have taken the valet's offer", Alida said from the back.

"I don't trust droids", Ghaghikh responded. "You never know if they've been tampered with."

"Fair point", Alida said, reclining further into her seat.

After several more minutes of driving, Ghaghikh found their designated spot. Two armored honor guards were waiting for them there. "Look at these eggheads", Ghaghikh growled quietly as he powered down the speeder. The moment he opened the door, one of the guards spoke. "On account of rising instability in the city, we cannot allow you to enter the inner capitol armed". Ghaghikh stared daggers at the two guards. "You do realize I am a captain of the capitol police?" He asked. "We do", the guard responded. Hand over your weapons, all of you."

Naveen handed over her stinger pistol. She didn't mind parting with it. The fact that she was still allowed a weapon surprised her. The other two weren't taking it as well. Alida grasped an ornamental length of copper tubing gingerly in her hands. Naveen didn't know what it was. "I want this back the moment we're done", Alida said to the guard after handing it over. Ghaghikh held a well worn stinger pistol. "I've been in the police force for 30 years, you know. I guarantee I know how to use this better than you two." The guard said nothing and held out his palm. Ghaghikh relinquished his weapon.

The two guards took positions in front of the group and led them deeper into the parking garage. Naveen took the time to glance around. The garage was utterly packed with vehicles. Some of them were simple speeders, probably belonging to lower level clerks or janitorial staff, others were incredibly luxurious. Naveen glanced up at a jet black and brilliant silver land cruiser parked perpendicularly through five parking spots. The paint on the massive luxury vehicle glistened as if it were lined with diamond. "Who does this belong to?" Naveen asked as they passed the vehicle. "I haven't seen anything like it before." One of the guards looked up at the expensive camper. "Belongs to a catering service", he said gruffly. "It's not supposed to be parked like that though."

The five of them reached the corner of the expansive parking lot. Carved into the marble wall was an arch with two heavy gold doors. At the peak of this arch was a ruby insignia of the New Republic. The guards took up posts on either side of the arch. "The lift is programmed to take you all the way up to the chancellor's office", one of them said. "We will return your weapons when you return." The ruby insignia glowed with an amber light and the doors slid open.

The elevator had a marble base, but was otherwise made of either an especially strong glass or transparisteel. It was large, easily capable of fitting a medium sized speeder, and tall enough that two wookies could have stood on top of each other with room to spare. Naveen followed Ghaghikh and Alida into the lift and looked down through the transparent sides. The interior of the capitol was made up of hundreds of concentric floors ending with a semicircular marble roof. A smooth , cylindrical waterfall fell from the top floor all the way to a deep fountain at the base of the building. Naveen was impressed. It was truely gorgeous architecture. Each ring held offices, conference rooms, plazas, and some even had restaurants. In the hollow center of the buildings, other ornate elevators floated up and down, circling the waterfall, ferrying politicians and supplies between levels. The gold plated doors of their elevator closed and they began to ascend.

Alida walked up next to Naveen and took in the spectacle of the capitol's inner architecture with appreciative, if a bit calculating eyes. "Ghaghikh, are there any other ways up or down in this building?" She asked. The captain shook his head. "No. It's a security feature. It Lets the guards know who is on which floor at all times. Nobody gets up or down unchecked." Alida nodded and crossed her arms. "Impressive", she said.

Naveen glanced up at Alida. There was something about the way she was scrutinizing the capitol interior that looked wrong. To Naveen, it almost felt like she was looking for ways out. "Ptinng!" The elevator chimed and an almost inaudible click sound as they docked with the topmost floor. They stepped out of the elevator onto a relatively small balcony. A marble fountain gurgled in the center of the balcony which traveled through channels in the floor to feed the waterfall that cascaded below them. Several exotic species of flowering vine were growing across the railings. There were meticulously carved wooden chairs assembled around the fountain, each one specifically curtailed to certain species. Opposite the fountain was a spherical golden door worked into the capitol's marble wall. The door had the insignia of the New republic etched upon it. On either side of this door, stood two honor guards.

Ghaghikh checked his watch and tried to push back his nervousness. They were late. The medical examiner and detectives had already been here for a good 15 minutes. The chancellor was a pragmatic woman, she would give him enough time to give her an update. Still, he knew her schedule wasn't infinite, and her patience wasn't either. The capital city had gone to hell in the last months. The breaking yards explosion, the fire at Wusha's Paradise, overall murder and overdose rates increasing, an attack on the precinct and signs of corruption amongst some of the officers. Ghaghikh wagered he was going to get chewed out for it one way or another.

Ghaghikh looked back at Naveen and Alida. He wished he didn't have to bring them. They complicated the situation too much. Alida was a mystery. She claimed to be a jedi and knew Luke Skywalker, and yet Ghaghikh hadn't caught the scent of a force user on her. "Damn her perfume", Ghaghikh thought. He had mentioned this to the chancellor when they last spoke, and she had insisted that he bring the "jedi" to the capitol. The chancellor said she might be able to tell if Alida's claims were authentic. If she couldn't decide, she had friends who would know for certain. The Chancellor also had mentioned she would have security on high alert just in case. Ghaghikh smirked as he looked at the double stationing of honor guards at the doors. The chancellor had not been bluffing.

"You two will want to get comfortable", Ghaghikh said to Alida and Naveen. "I'll go in first and talk to the chancellor, then I will have you called in as needed."

"Fair enough", Alida said, shrugging. Naveen gave a shallow nod as she stared at the door. "Ok then", Ghaghikh said. He turned back to the gold doors and took a breath. The guards opened the doors outward and he walked inside. In contrast to the rest of the capitol, the chancellor's office was sparsely decorated. Book shelves and transmitters lined both walls and a nice but not overly ornamental pearlwood table took up most of the space in the center of the room. On the far side of the room, an oval window looked out northwards towards the city's museum district and the ocean. Ghaghikh was thankful it was not facing the breaking yards. Sitting at the table closest to Ghaghikh were the precinct's two detectives (both human) and their short,sullustan medical examiner. On the far side of the table was a tall woman with fair skin and red hair. As Ghaghikh walked in, she looked up from a pile of documents and smiled at him earnestly.

"Take a seat captain, you didn't miss too much", the chancellor said in a calm voice. Ghaghikh pulled out a wooden chair and seated himself next to the medical examiner. "The chancellor closed the documents and rested her hands on top of them. "These gentlemen tell me you lost your only witness to the breaking yards fiesco", the chancellor said, still maintaining her calm. "Yes ma'am", Ghaghikh responded. He paused. "Did they tell you how it happened?"

"Yes, but I was hoping to hear your take of the story as well. Could you humor me and start at the beginning, the destroyer explosion I mean. I would like to have as much information as I can before having to address this event in public again." Ghaghikh wet his lips. "Following the initial signs of an explosion, my men and I rushed to the burning destroyer and attempted to evacuate survivors. At first, I thought it was only a local colony of Jawas. They had set up their colony in the destroyer's water tanks, but it had been abandoned by the time we found it. We spread out and searched more of the ship. The fire had already spread to the ship's reactor, and we had to hasten our search. We caught up to the Jawas just before the reactor reached its meltdown threshold, they were fleeing through a flooded hangar bay. I am confident their escape vehicle was an industrial grade juggernaut."

"Is it possible the Jawas may have stolen their juggernaut from the breaking yards, and that they were simply fleeing on their own accord?"

"Unlikely ma'am. The Seinars uses refitted combat juggernauts in their breaking yard. This was an older design. I was able to tell from looking at the cockpit and conversing with its suspected sellers."

"And has this vehicle been found?"

"No. Tracks were found leading up a clay bottom boat launch some 20 miles to the south of the destroyer, but we lost the trail once it hit the highway."

"And your witness? If I am not mistaken, he turned himself in?"

"That is correct. Yafu Malik. We found him near the entrance to the breaking yards. He is a known drug abuser, but deemed cognitiant at the time. To reiterate, there were no drugs in his system, and he displayed no signs of mental illness. After some interrogation, he told us he had been at the breaking yards as part of an illegal scrapping mission. I have strong suspicions his party was attempting to steal an imperial stasis chamber for a Bliss lab. However, Yafu claimed a member of the scrapping crew was an imperial spy whose purpose there was unknown to him. He stole a number of her belongings and turned himself in with them."

"I have the list here, actually." Said the Chancellor. "Several DL-50 cartridges, the type not produced in New Republic space, A carbine of unknown origin, and detonite charges that share similarities with several known imperial designs." The chancellor set the list down. "Am I missing anything?"

"Yafu said he was holding additional pieces of evidence in reserve as a bartering tool to grant his friends legal amnesty. I am sure my detectives have told you we are still searching the breaking yards for these other objects."

"I can appreciate the effort, captain, but your men are looking for imperial artifacts in a breaking yard for imperial vessels. Can I expect them to find this additional evidence in a timely manner?"

"Most likely not ma'am"

"Right. I had a little talk with the Seinar engineers about the cause of the explosion. They said it was due to a punctured fuel line near the destroyer's reactor. Why the ship wasn't drained of fuel in the first place is beyond me, but that is a topic for another day. Do you think the explosion was intentional? Perhaps a threat from the imperial remnants or their sympathizers?

"I'm not sure. If the explosion was a terrorist attack, it was executed sloppily. The bulk of the blast was absorbed by the two neighboring destroyers and the dry dock itself. There were no civilian casualties whatsoever. None that we know of anyway. Also, we reviewed the security footage of the breaking yards before the explosion. There was no evidence of charge placement on or near the fuel lines. For all we know, it could have been triggered by something as simple as falling debris."

"Did Yafu have any opinion on this?"

"He said he wasn't there when the reactor cascade started, though he suspects the imperial was covering her tracks. His claims do make sense. Perhaps the goal of this imperial was to make sure the Seinar scrapping teams didn't find something on that ship. At this point though, it's just speculation."

"Dr. Kneubb (gesturing to the M.E.) gave me the details on Yafu's death. Do you think the imperial had him killed?"

"I don't know. As I'm sure our detectives have already told you, the circumstances of Yafu's murder were also sloppy. For the imperial to have stayed on Chandrila this long, she would have to be a professional. Whoever killed Yafu was anything but. He or she preferred brute force. Also, the tissue samples collected from the crime scene aren't Twi'lek. The imperial was supposed to be Twi'lek according to Yafu. The tissue matches a code for a Mimban drug peddler named Kringea Orlok. She has been in and out of custody several times. It would not surprise me if Yafu's death was cartel related rather than at the hands of this imperial spy."

"So a streetside drug dealer infiltrated your precinct, killed a guard, killed your suspect, and got away? How does that happen exactly?!"

There it was. Ghaghikh had seen the chancellor's stress building for the duration of the conversation. He couldn't say he blamed her. He was frustrated with himself. Stuff like this wasn't supposed to happen, not on his watch.

"Officer Smithee Fnderleu may have owed the cartel money, or his family did at least. We are still looking into it. He was stationed on guard duty that night. We believe he let Kringea into the precinct and locked down the detention wing to slow the arrival of backup."

"You have to be kidding…. You're not, are you? Ghaghikh, how many of your officers can I trust? My God, understand how important this is! Chandrila is the capital of the New Republic! Every foothold we give to the cartels and syndicates invalidates our own standing in the galaxy. We are already on the verge of bankruptcy, we literally cannot afford our reputation to fall further!" The chancellor took a breath and put on a more measured tone. "I want you to figure out who you can trust. Then, I order you to clean up this city. I will give you my honor guard to bolster your ranks. We can rely on them at least."

There was a tense silence where the chancellor filed through the documents the precinct had provided for her. "You all may go", she said kindly but with authority. The ME and detectives got up and made for the door. They gave Ghaghikh concerned glances as they passed. He had stayed in his seat. "You have something else for me, captain?" The chancellor asked without looking up.

"Yes, ma'am. It's about the Jedi."

"Oh yes! That almost slipped my mind!" The chancellor's demeanor seemed to brighten. "I haven't seen a jedi in, hmm lets see, a bit more than four years! There were times where I thought I'd never see one again."

"Chancellor, I need to remind you that I never caught the scent of a force user on this woman."

"Yes, but you did say she knew Luke Skywalker and came with a lightsaber." The chancellor chuckled as she slipped a sapphire ring onto her finger. Ghaghikh caught the nearly imperceptible scent of ozone that accompanied a personal shield. "Besides", the chancellor continued, "It should be rather quick work to see whether this jedi is real or not."

The Chancellor's Office.

Three routes of escape. Vivian had only identified three routes of escape should things go wrong. She could take the elevators back down, a risky move if security caught on quick enough. She could hop from one floor to the next until she caught someone exiting the building in a personal speeder. She had seen several balcony hangars built into the mid level floors meant for such things. Lastly, there was a small vertical shaft for maintenance droids that likely spanned the entire building. It had been cleverly concealed as it passed through marble columns from floor to floor, but she noticed it nonetheless.

That was the worse case scenario. If everything went well, she would walk through those imposing golden doors as an honored guest. She just had to play her part flawlessly. That had become difficult. Part of her mind was screaming for her to get out before biting off more than she could chew. Yafu was no longer a threat and Maximilian had waved away her duties to infiltrate the capitol. Still, she wasn't going to pass up an opportunity like this, especially not after spending so long trying to get here in the first place.

Vivian had won more from the gamble of the Jedi disguise than she would have anticipated. She had been counting on Ghaghikh being old enough to know what a jedi was, and versed enough in current politics to know they were being brought back from the brink. However, she hadn't anticipated him actually being afraid of her, or of Jedi, rather. It had taken some time for her to recognize fear in the old reptile's voice, but his actions had spoken louder than words. She had been at the precinct for less than a week, and now he was already bringing her along to see the chancellor. Ghaghikh wasn't dumb, so why would he make such a reckless decision? The answer was simple enough. He needed answers about her, and the only one who could provide them was the chancellor.

Vivian did a mental review of everything she knew about the New Republic's chancellor. Her name was Mon Mothma, preferred Mon in familiar company, and had been a senator for Chandrila during both the Republic and the Empire. She had funded the early rebel military, and had avoided Palpatine's assasins for eight years after her discovery as a traitor. Anyone who could do that was going to take skill to fool. Mothma's relation with the jedi was shakier ground. The Empire of the Hand had some records on the subject, but it was a fraction of the information Vivian was used to when preparing for a role. As an anti war advocate, the chancellor had not gotten along with the jedi during the Clone Wars, however, it was rumored she had helped some Jedi escape from the Empire following the war.

Mothma was also good friends with Leia Organa, who had confirmed connections to at least two (maybe three) jedi. The most influential of these jedi was Luke Skywalker, a known rebel war hero, though a less known jedi. As the head of the rebellion, Mothma would absolutely know that he was a jedi. The problem was Vivian didn't know much else about Luke skywalker. He had no living relatives, no confirmed residences. He always disappeared before agents could begin following him. There were several different sightings of Skywalker in the past year, and it was assumed that he was looking for force sensitive individuals, but whether he found them and where it was he brought them was a mystery. If Mothma asked about Skywalker, Vivian would have to improvise.

"You're going to get caught", the voice in the back of her mind said. Vivian reached into the pockets of her cloak and felt the smooth backs of the GI spy droids she had smuggled in. She could drop them in a flower pot and leave. They could easily listen in through those big golden doors, and Vivian wouldn't have to risk exposing herself to another professional. Despite her efforts, sweat was starting to collect on the back of her neck. Vivian was used to dealing with idiots, what if her standards had been lowered? What if Mothma saw right through her? Panic was clawing at Vivian's mind. She was unraveling. Why was she here? She had been excused from this duty. Why had she continued to prod the bear when she should have left it well enough alone?

"Are you alright, Alida?" A voice asked. Vivian looked over at the green skinned Mirialin officer who sat to her right. What was her name again? Vivian grabbed hold of the panic she was feeling and struggled to bury it.

"Yeah, I'm fine", Alida said. "A little nervous, maybe." She took a steadying breath. "You are deputy Naveen, right?" Naveen nodded. After a couple moments, Alida filled in the silence. Naveen, do you ever have moments where you know how things ought to go, but when you get there, you realize you don't know what to do at all? Naveen looked up at the Twi'lek girl. Her voice had been uncharacteristically soft, and her eyes that had been cold earlier now seemed frightened and bashful. Naveen saw her own worries reflected in those eyes.

"Completely", she responded. "When I first applied for a position at the precinct, I didn't have any clue what I was signing up for. It was my calling, and I felt like I might be useful, but I really wasn't. I got in people's way, missed most of my shots at the range, and I'm probably too passive for police work anyway. I never imagined I'd end up getting involved in everything that's been going on. I didn't think I'd end up testifying in the capitol, much less in front of the chancellor."

"If you don't mind me asking, How long have you been with the precinct?"

"Seven months next week. It feels a lot longer than that though. What about you? Ghaghikh says you're a private investigator. How long have you been serving?"

Alida laughed. "He said I was a private investigator? I suppose that's not too far from the truth. Yeah, I find people, try to prevent small problems from escalating into larger conflicts. Sometimes I get to save people from dangerous situations. Did Ghaghikh say anything about that?"

"No, this is all news to me." Naveen paused. "I'm sorry for prying, but who do you work for? I don't think anyone at the precinct knows you."

"That's a valid question. It probably feels odd that I just showed up."

"A little bit, yeah."

"I apprentice to a man named Luke Skywalker. Myself and other people like me sort of act like an intelligence gathering agency. We work for the New Republic, but aren't federally owned. I'm here to investigate whether the breaking yards explosion has any connections to a fugitive I've been tracking."

"Luke Skywalker? Wait… you don't mean the hero of Yavin, Luke Skywalker?

"Yeah, I mean that one."

Naveen gawked at Alida, which caused Alida to shift uncomfortably in her seat. "I've read all about Mr. Skywalker", Naveen said in awe. Wait… does that mean?" Vivian could see the words beginning to form on the young officer's lips, and regretted having continued the conversation beyond a couple words. "Are you a Jedi?" Naveen asked.

"Well, I haven't reached the rank of jedi knight, not yet anyway, but yeah, I am."

Vivian could tell that the officer was about to unleash a torrent of enthusiastic follow up questions, but the rumble of heavy hinges interrupted her. Vivian was almost relieved when the doors to the chancellor's office opened. Ghaghikh was standing there, looking very uncomfortable. "Alida, the chancellor wants to see you", he Said. Alida got up from her seat and smiled at Naveen. "Another time", she said. "Of course", Naveen responded, still gawking. With the threat of panic buried as far as she could manage, Alida walked through the doors into the chancellor's office.

The doors closed ominously behind her, and Alida resisted the temptation to look back. She scanned the room ahead of her for escape routes. She could see air intakes in the ceiling, but they were much too small for her. There was a large window at the back of the room, but it did not connect to any landing pad. Instead, there was just a straight drop to the street far below. There were guards as well, at least four of them tucked away in the corners of the room. The honor guards looked idiotic with their egg shaped helmets, but all of them had scars and intense eyes that spoke to the fact that they were combat veterans. They were also armed, and she wasn't.

Then there was the chancellor. She was seated at the center of an old wooden table next to captain Ghaghikh. The chancellor was watching Alida with a pair of dangerously intelligent blue eyes. Alida smiled and gave a short bow. "It is an honor to meet you chancellor, it truly is. The chancellor gave an earnest smile of her own, but those eyes still bore into Alida like searchlights through fog. "Dear, the honor is all mine!" The chancellor responded, chuckling. "Ghaghikh tells me that you're a jedi knight."

"I'm not a knight quite yet, ma'am. Technically, I am still an apprentice."

"Oh, my mistake. Would you prefer Alida or maybe just Jedi?

"Alida is fine ma'am"

"Well Alida, take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Perhaps I can get you something to drink?"

Alida sat opposite the chancellor. "No thank you ma'am, I try to avoid alcohol on the job."

"A good habit. I try to as well." The chancellor then turned to one of her guards. "Perhaps we can get some water. I suspect this could be a long chat and we all will need it." Alida watched one of the guards slip out between the golden doors. The three remaining were still watching her.

"Alida. That is a beautiful name", said the chancellor. "If I may ask, is it a traditional name for your people?"

"No ma'am. My adoptive father was human. He gave me this name."

"Forgive me for prying, but I thought Jedi weren't supposed to know their parents?"

"This is a new age chancellor. Master Skywalker has done away with a lot of the… less than useful dogma of the past."

"Oh, how is Luke by the way? I haven't seen him in years."

"He's fine ma'am. Busy though. Finding new apprentices has proven to be rather difficult."

"I should imagine. You know, he doesn't have to do this alone. There are people in the New Republic who would gladly help with his cause."

"I appreciate that Ma'am, but I believe master skywalker knows this. We are trying to keep a low profile."

"Indeed. Still, it's a shame he's become so secretive. A lot of people miss him."

"I'll convey that to him."

"You'll convey it to him? Hmm, that's the issue isn't it? Ghaghikh told me you are here to save my life from an imperial assassin. I can't help but feel a little hurt that Luke didn't deem this important enough to come himself. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why did he send you?"

"I have a particular gift for premonition ma'am, one that exceeds master Skywalker's in a way. He would trust me to keep you safe, but he isn't here right now because he can't know." There was a pause and the chancellor's eyebrow raised. "I should probably explain further," Alida said. "I can see things that are going to happen very clearly, and my most recent vision concerns you ma'am. There was an assassin, one I've seen before in my dreams. She was a Twi'lek like myself but with blue skin and a birthmark. I saw her point a blaster at you during a party, and I feel it is going to happen soon. I'm sure Master Skywalker would want to help. He would probably be here right now if I told him, but he's had a part in my dreams as well. If master skywalker arrives at that party, events play out in a way where neither of us can save you." There was silence. The guard came back with three filled crystal glasses and a pitcher of water. It sat on the table untouched.

"This party", the chancellor said thoughtfully, "Could you describe it to me? Where was it?"

"It was on a rooftop patio. I could see the capitol skyline, so I know it is somewhere in this city, somewhere nearby probably. Admiral Syndulla was there, Captain Antilles, a lot of senators, and a number of faces I didn't recognize."

"Have you met Syndulla and Antilles before?"

"No Ma'am, but I've read about them extensively, and I recognize them from pictures."

"This is… disturbing. Tell me, Alida, did you know that Admiral Syndulla is retiring?"

"I heard that she might be, ma'am."

"As it so happens, we are holding a retirement party for her next Friday. On the rooftop patio of this very building. It is a fairly exclusive event. Security would be high, and I would know everyone there, but your description of this premonition certainly doesn't raise my confidence in the matter of security. Hmm. Would you be able to recognize this spy in a crowd?"

"Absolutely."

"Consider yourself invited then." The chancellor glanced at a clock embedded in one of the room's book cases. "Unfortunately, there are other important duties that I have quite forgotten about. We may have to resume this conversation another time. Before we all depart though." She slid one of the crystal cups over to Alida. "Could you pick this up for me, dear? Without using your hands that is."

Alida's eyes flicked to the chancellor and then to the cup. "With the force, you mean", she said. The chancellor gave an apologetic smile and nodded. Alida stuck out her left hand and took a breath. For several seconds, nothing happened, then, the cup sprang from the table and hit alida's palm hard. The impact sent water spraying all over Alida and the Chancellor. Several of the guards had upholstered their weapons. "That won't be necessary!" The chancellor shouted. "She did exactly what I asked."

"I'm so sorry", Alida said sheepishly. I haven't mastered object manipulation yet."

"That's all right Alida, the chancellor said with a broad smile. I just had to make sure you actually were a Jedi. Your poor cloak though. That's going to take ages to dry."

"That's alright ma'am, I have spares."
"Still, let me provide you with something so you don't freeze on your way out." The chancellor snapped her fingers and the guard who had fetched the water went back out the doors again. The chancellor looked at the clock and sighed. She picked up her glass and took a quick sip. Looks like my meeting with the freemason council will have to wait a little longer. Alida, dear, it was an honor meeting you, but I fear that concludes our little visit. There's a vacant suite a couple floors down that you can use for the foreseeable future. Gregory, my guard, will show you there."

Alida turned around and saw a guard standing in the doorway. A snow white cloak was draped over his arm and he nodded. "Please follow me, Jedi", he said." Before leaving, Alida turned back to the chancellor and bowed deeply. "Thank you ma'am", she said.

The door closed heavily behind Alida as she exited the room, leaving Ghaghikh and the chancellor standing there in their wet clothing. "I didn't think she was going to to pull it off", the chancellor said. Ghaghikh glanced at her nervously. "So what do you think? Is she a Jedi?"

"That is a very important question." The chancellor said in a distracted voice. "And its consequences could prove dire if we assume incorrectly. At first, I didn't think so. In my experience, Jedi don't take fondly to parting with their lightsabers. Alida left hers with the guards downstairs, or so I've been told. If I recall your report correctly, she also parted with it at your precinct." Ghaghikh scowled. "Is there any way to verify if it's a real lightsaber? Next time she parts with it, could I have someone look at it?"

"If it has to come to that. However, I don't want us taking her saber without a solid warrant."

"Understood ma'am. Was there anything else that seemed off?"

"Yes, actually, Alida said she 'apprenticed' under Luke. I don't think Jedi use that term. From what limited experience I have with the Jedi, It seemed that their students were always referred to as padawans. It could be a personal preference of Alida's not to be called that. I could see it as something allowed by Luke, but… I don't know." She looked at Ghaghikh with a furrowed brow. "This doesn't seem right."

"Ma'am, can't we just ask Skywalker if this is one of his." The chancellor laughed. "Captain, I wasn't lying when I said I haven't seen Luke for years. When he left, he said he would stay in touch, but he did not give any of us a means to contact him. I have no clue where he is."

"What about Senator Organa? She was close with him, right?"

"Ha! Yes she was. You've been doing your homework Ghaghikh."
"Just doing my best ma'am."

"Indeed. Let me see (typing into a transmitter set on the desk) what was her number again? You see captain, unlike Luke, Leia Organa still picks up the transmitter when I call her."

Lots of Wine

(Sobayaki Farm)

"Back it up, back it up. You're good, you're good. Ok, STOP!" Jaeleno let out a sigh of relief as the semi trailer came to a halt in front of him. It just barely fit into the barn, and Abercrombie had gotten pretty close to backing the trailer through the barn's rotting wall. Even for a rental, the trailer and its contents were expensive. A year ago, a purchase like this would have bankrupted them. Obviously, it wouldn't any more. Jaeleno flipped a switch near the tailgate and the sides of the trailer began to fold away, exposing an imposing, cylindrical machine of chrome tubing, glass cylinders, and air vents. Jaeleno rubbed his hands together excitedly. "I've always wanted to use one of these things!" He said.

Abercrombie hopped out of the driver seat and looked the machine over. "Do we have any guarantee this thing is safe?" He asked. Jaeleno procured a receipt from his coat pocket. "Bactoid has a Money back guarantee if we can provide proof of food poisoning", he said jokingly. "Don't worry. Even when I was in college, Bactoid was a respectable company. They wouldn't sell us junk. Now, have the Jawas gotten the stuff we need?"

"We have", Tralalog said, pushing a wagon into the barn. Tralalog had recently gotten his whiskers trimmed and wore a brand new embroidered red cloak. The other two Jawas who were pushing it with him had also seen the same type of upwards mobility. The wagon they were pushing / pulling was filled with a plethora of different Sobayaki® wines and a tower of unfilled bottles.

"Where's Yorg, old timer?" Jaeleno asked. "I thought you'd have him pull this for you?" Tralalog held up a finger and caught his breath. "The family is doing maintenance on Yorg. He's in the mine right now. After his… performance at Wusha's paradise, I thought it might be better to make him a little smarter, less unpredictable."

"If you need money for parts, just ask me."

"I might take you up on that offer. Now, what have you got here?"

"Something expensive and hard to hide", Abercrombie muttered.

Tralalog looked over the giant machine. "Some sort of molecular replicator?" He asked. Jaeleno nodded. "Yep, we're going to use this bad boy to brew up a whole lot more of our wine stock. We'll need to if we want to pass as respectable entrepreneurs at the capitol party." Tralalog's eyes brightened up from under his hood. "So you got in?" he asked.

"Well, I would say there's a pretty good chance we have a foot in the door. We're working with some other professionals to iron out the hiccups that might occur with security."

"They are no professionals", Abercrombie butted in, "They're hicks."

"Weathered professionals, Abercrombie", Jaeleno responded, "Let's practice being polite. I wouldn't want you being rude with them while we're at the capitol."

"Rude, polite, they'd betray us in an instant if it meant they got a higher check. I don't trust them, and you shouldn't trust them either."

"Abercrombie, we are now, without exaggeration, the richest people on Chandrila, and I believe captain Onaka and his crew know this. They would not kill the goose that lays golden eggs." Abercrombie scoffed. "No, but they could sell that goose for an extraordinary price."

"If I may ask?" Tralalog began. "Have you already agreed to pay, what did you call him, captain Onaka."

"Yes, we have", Jaeleno said before Abercrombie could get in a word.

"Seems to me you ought to carry through with it then." Tralalog continued. "Onaka will be more likely to turn on you if you don't give him his full cut. Now, where do you want these bottles?"

"Oh, of course. Sorry to keep you waiting with those. There's 40 or so output nozzles by the tailgate. If you could leave the empty bottles on the ground there, Abercrombie and I will take care of the rest."

The Jawas did just that, leaving Jaeleno and Abercrombie alone. As Jaeleno screwed in the last of the empty bottles, he looked back up at Abercrombie and sighed. "If you have something else to say, say it", he said. Abercrombie hopped down from the machine so that he was sitting on the tailgate next to Jaeleno. "When is this going to be over?" Abercrombie asked. "If we keep doing 'one more job' after 'one more job' we're going to get ourselves killed. Or worse. We could become Mutsa Wushas ourselves. You've read Yafu's letter. If we identify ourselves to the feds, there's a good chance we will get legal amnesty. Isn't that worth looking at?"

"Abercrombie, you're talking about the same precinct that allowed Yafu to get murdered. What makes you think they would honor anything he says?" Abercrombie was silent as Jaeleno continued. "I would much rather have my freedom forcibly stripped from me than have it taken when I'm on my knees. I understand your concerns, Abercrombie, but I'm not out of this yet. If you want out, I'll give you half our savings and you can be free to go."

"Wow. Just like that? I keep you from killing yourself for ten years and you are willing to leave me without a second word!"

"No. Not at all! I understand you no longer want this, so I am allowing you to go. You can still visit if you want." Abercrombie picked up one of the empty wine bottles and tossed it against the barn wall. It shattered into a spray of crystal shards. "Don't do that again." Jaeleno said "I don't want to go back to the store for more of those" Abercrombie picked up another bottle, but set it back down. "And I don't want you to die!" He responded. We've all been pushing our luck, you especially. Isn't Yafu's offer at least worth looking into before we go around poking senators? I feel like if we try our luck one more time, it's not going to hold."

"For all we know, the precinct could just be owned by another cartel. The evidence all points to it. Tralalog seems to think the Seinar family has it in their pocket. Mutsa Wusha must have had contacts there. Abercrombie you're supposed to be smart. Isn't it obvious that they're crooks like us?"

"No, It's not obvious. I've read the mortuary report in the paper. An officer died with Yafu. If Yafu trusted the people in that precinct, I think we should explore the possibility of trusting them as well."

"Things are already in motion, Abercrombie. I can't call off my role in the capital job any more. If you want to walk into the precinct and expect them to honor a deal they made with a man who died under their roof, I don't suppose I can stop you." They were both silent for some time. The sound of bottles sliding into the replicator's faucets filled the barn like a solo xylophone. "Would you hand me our summer blend", Jaeleno said in a dower voice.

Abercrombie picked up the full wine bottle, but didn't let go when Jaeleno grabbed onto it. "If I help you make it through the capitol party", Abercrombie said, would you allow me to write an anonymous letter to the precinct for both of us, after the job of course." Jaeleno nodded and Abercrombie let go of the bottle. An hour later, both Abercrombie and Jaeleno were sticky, colored slightly red, and smelt like wine. A padded boxed wagon in the corner of the barn housed a little over a thousand full wine bottles, and Abercrombie was double checking that it could be hitched to the delivery speeder. "Looks like we're good", Abercrombie said out of breath. Jaeleno nodded and procured the one bottle of wine he hadn't run through the replicator. "Let's see here", he began, "I think this was the first recipe I was able to successfully brew"

"The pumpkin stuff", Abercrombie asked with no small amount of humor in his voice. "Exactly", Jaeleno said as he popped off the cork.

"There was a reason why that stuff didn't sell", Abercrombie said, chuckling.

"Yeah, it's because most of this planet doesn't know artisanal flavor if it slapped them across the cheek." Jaeleno took a long draught from the bottle and coughed. "That's, that's not how I remember it."

"Oh, I bet it's exactly how I remember it. Hand it over." Abercrombie took a couple swings and grimaced. "That's wretched, but no more than it ever was."

"Well, don't be hogging it then, pass it back over"

"Gladly."

Half an hour later, Jaeleno was doing a drunken jig with the wine bottle as Abercrombie played a semi decent song on his harmonica. They didn't hear the ground shaking footfalls that approached the barn until it was right on top of them. Jaeleno was the first to notice. "Hey! You fixed Yorg! I knew you could do it, Tralalog me boy!" Abercrombie began playing an impromptu victory tune, but stopped a couple seconds in. There was something dreadfully wrong with Tralalog's expression. "We have a problem, he said."

"We always do, but they always work themselves out in the end", Jaeleno said, dropping the bottle. "What's the issue this time?"

"This". Tralalog said as he gestured for Yorg to come closer. The robot was holding something in its right claw, something alive and squirming. As the robot stepped into the barn's light, it revealed the terrified, but relatively unharmed figure of Dequanz Mauritius in its grasp. "We caught him snooping around the mine", Tralalog began. "When Yorg caught this guy, he said he knew you, so we thought it better to bring him here than to… you know."

"I do", Jaeleno responded (less shakily this time). "Set him down." Yorg dropped Daquanz onto the barn floor. "Stars above! Not like that!", Jaeleno exclaimed. He grabbed Daquanz's hand and helped him to his feet. "What were you doing snooping around on my land Daquanz? You could have gotten hurt." Daquanz stared daggers at Jaeleno. "I was trying to find a family photo that was left when we gave the mine to you. Didn't know you recently took up tenants."

"Family photo? How long ago did we take our land back from you guys? Six years? Not to mention we gave you people a good long while to draw out of there. I can't help but think that this family photo story is a bluff."

"It's not. I lost it during the move out. I've been going there, trying to find it for years."

"I think he's telling the truth", Abercrombie said.

Jaeleno looked back at Daquanz and smiled. It was the same smile he put on whenever he did business but robbed of any charm by the wine. "Tralalog, did Daquanz see anything important during his little venture into our property?" He asked.

"Yorg, obviously. But there's a good chance he saw some of our work stations."

"All right Daquanz, now is the time for you to tell me exactly what you saw. I'd urge you to be honest." Daquanz held Jaeleno's gaze. He was frightened, but there was a defiance in his eyes as he responded. I saw nothing besides these Jawas and their droid. I swear it." There was a tense silence between the two. Jaeleno reached his hand into his pocket, and, for a second, Abercrombie worried he would pull out a blaster. Instead Jaeleno procured a notepad from his wallet. "How much was that mine worth to you?" He asked.

"Everything." Daquanz growled. "My family sunk everything we had into it, but you know that don't you. What are you playing at?" Jaeleno sighed. "And how much is everything worth to you in round figures?"

We were pulling a couple hundred credits worth of dunium out of the ground yearly. The vein would have been worth millions."

"How many millions?"

"I can see where this is going. Jaeleno, you can barely keep your farm together. There's not a chance in hell you'd be able to afford the equipment necessary to start mining."

Jaeleno laughed. "That's not my point. How much is that mine worth to you?"

"We could have gotten two or three million credits of ore out of it." Daquanz said, more confused this time.

"Two million? Alright. Daquanz, how well did you know my father?"

"My parents knew him. I didn't, but I don't see what this has to do…"

"It has everything to do with this situation! This was my father's land, and he let you people on as friends, as neighbors.

"We were."

Abercrombie was the first one who noticed it, a subtle grinding in Jaeleon's jaw. The fake smile he wore was starting to fade, along with whatever smooth talking he had intended for Daquanz. Now, there was just alcohol fueled hate.

"Really?" Jaeleno began. "Because after my father passed, I came back to a disintegrating barn, a rotting house, and swamped fields. All in all, what was left of the property barely topped eleven thousand credits. You know, at first I didn't resent you or your family, but every day that passed, I looked to the north and saw smoke rising from your sodding, mine!" Jaeleno stumbled slightly as he leaned closer. "You were suckling on the land my father gave you without giving us anything back! So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to buy that mine from you even though it's my land. In a couple business days, you are going to find an envelope with money in your mailbox. You're going to take that money Discreetly. After that, you're not going to come crawling back to my mine. You hear me? You aren't going to talk about this to the cops. You are going to use the money I'm giving you to find success elsewhere. If you don't follow these simple instructions, my boys will find you and I'm going to put a slug in your head. Do we have an agreement?

Daquanz nodded. The indignation that had been present in his gaze was swiftly being swapped by total fear. "Now scamper back home", Jaeleno growled.

Daquanz did just that.

Aftermath

(Ryloth - Seven years ago - The Devastation in low orbit)

The Devastation sliced through the smoke plumes clouding Ryloth's sky like a plow through soil. The edges of the warship still glowed softly from its entrance through the atmosphere. Commodore Maximilian watched this through a view port in the ship's medical wing. His hand was in a light plastic brace, and a medical robot was attending to a series of minor burns across his right shoulder. Nearby, a hologram of Captain Mcdonnah was pacing back and forth. "You Don't have to be a glory hound, commodore", he said. "The Faithful is just as capable as the Devastation. You could have sent us to secure the cannon's wreckage."

Maximilian shook his head. "The Faithful would be more useful in orbit. She saw some pretty heavy action after all. There is no need for us to test our luck with her Repulsors. Besides, I need to see what happened down there. You needn't worry. There's nothing left on this planet that can harm us."

"As you wish commodore", McDonnah said. "Any updates from Veers?"

"Yes. Loyalist garrisons across the planet have been mobilized. He thinks they are in route to retake the cannon." Maximilian chuckled. "Fail to retake the cannon that is with us in the picture." The Devastation cut through the final layer of smoke crowding the dark sky. Below, the remains of the hyper velocity cannon smoldered. The wreck was composed of several miles of durasteel piled on top of each other. Some sections were visibly melted, giving off a dull red glow. Others were warped beyond recognition. The barrel to the cannon had snapped off and had crushed the southern wall of the facility. Secondary explosions had reduced the east wall to a gradual hill of concrete and ash. It no longer bore any similarities to the powerful defensible position it had once been.

That was why the Devastation was there. The loyalists had lost almost all their air support, leaving the star destroyer unthreatened. If a loyalist army was en route to retake the cannon, they would be taught a bloody lesion by the warship. Besides, the Devasatation's medical facilities were mostly vacant, and Veer's medical corps could use as much help as they could get. The last casualty update listed 38,000 dead or missing and another 60,000 injured. All that mattered now was saving as many more troops as possible.

There was one last motive driving Maximilian. Guilt. Thousands dead over the struggle for the cannon and for what? There was no saying whether the smoldering heap that was once the cannon could be salvaged, and Moff Perth had escaped. A lot of people had died for nothing. "Stay in touch McDonnah", Maximilian said, "Let me know if anything happens in orbit." The hologram of McDonnah nodded and flickered out. Nearby, the Devastation's communications officer stood at attention, ready to relay instructions from the commodore to the ship. It suddenly struck Maximilian that he didn't even know her name. "What is your name, officer?" Maximilian asked. "Fia", the officer responded, still at attention, "Fia Brookwater, sir."

I want to thank you for your steadfast service in this engagement, Fia. You made the Empire proud."

"Thank you sir, really… Was there anything else?"

Maximilian groaned as he stood from the cot he had been sitting on. The synthetic skin that had been plastered over his burns stretched and stung. "Yes. Prepare my shuttle for a flight to Veers command point. I think we are about ready to start taking some of his wounded. "Understood sir", Fia responded. As she relayed the order, Maximilian glanced out the view port one more time. He could see twisting black lines traveling from the ruined cannon to the foothills surrounding it. He knew they were troopers ferrying the dead, dying and injured away from the battlefield. Part of him wished this was as close as he would get.

…

The shuttle touched down softly in the center of a forward command post. Columns of juggernaut tanks made a rough perimeter, and other vehicles lumbered between them to reach maintenance yards or to deposit wounded into an extensive tent city. Everything was caked in mud, from the vehicles, to the tents, to the personnel who rushed between them. The Empire of the Hand had won a victory on Ryloth, but it certainly didn't feel like it here.

Veers was already waiting on the shuttle pad when the landing ramp dropped. Maximilian and him exchanged silent salutes and then made their way into the nearest parked Juggernaut. Inside there was a hologram display of the cannon (or what was left of it) and surrounding geography. Colored lines indicated troop movement and orders. Maximilian noticed immediately that the air was much clearer in the Juggernaut. He also noticed the massive stack of medals that had been freshly opened from a cardboard crate in the corner.

"I'm glad you brought your destroyer", Veers said with a hoarse voice. It was clear he had been shouting orders for a long time. The troops need to see it. They need to know we did the right thing by glassing that damned cannon."

"We did", Maximilian said plainly. "There was no other way around it. This sacrifice, and I do not say sacrifice lightly, saved the operation."

"Really?" Veers laughed. "Because I feel like I've seen this all before. We talk about victory and sacrifice, but this feels no different than Hoth! We allowed Perth to get away with who knows what, and everything we bled to capture now lies in ruins! It feels like I'm still serving under Vader.

"Do not compare me to Vader!" Maximilian snarled. Veers looked up, surprised, and his expression softened. "Shit. I didn't mean it like that…Did he…? Who did you lose?" Maximilian didn't expect that sudden question and was at a momentary loss for words. "It... It doesn't matter. Listen, this is different from Hoth. We have Ryloth's orbital stations, and the fleet remains intact. We can still salvage something from the cannon, but what's truly important is that this planet is ours, and it actually means something this time.

"Agreed. I apologize commodore, I'm just not used to suffering casualties like this. My outburst was uncalled for." There was a pause as they both stared solemnly at the hologram. Maximilian was the first to interrupt the silence. "It was my wife. Vader killed her aboard the Executor and Admiral Firmus covered it up. What made you suspect?"

"I served under Vader longer than I would have liked. You spend enough time in the shadow of that monster and you begin to recognize the damage he leaves in his wake. Once again, I am sorry. I truly am." Maximilian nodded and bit down to hide the quivering in the edge of his lip. "Thank you,'' he said with a voice that did not completely hide his grief. There was another pause. "This situation is actually kind of ironic." Maximilian said with forced humor. "For a while, I thought Vader was up there dogfighting us. Can you imagine? Right place, right time and all that?

"But it wasn't Vader?"

"No, it was some kid who had just earned his gold stripes. He was flying an expensive ship, something I've never seen before. Had he been in anything else, we would have flamed him in minutes. I was a fool for thinking it was Vader." There was another pause. "Right, let's get to work." Maximilian gestured at the hologram. "This can't all be for casualties. I take it you've already sent salvage teams in?"

Veers nodded. "It was a lot easier to drill through the cannon's shell after our bombardment. The upper levels are all slag, but some of the lower levels survived. We're looking for any surviving data vaults or power generators, anything that might be of value. We are also beginning to find survivors from Ignis Company.

"How many do you estimate?"

"No more than a couple dozen. They were bled hard before entering the cannon and were alone when the cave in occurred. Still, their performance today demonstrates that they were one of the best companies in this army. I plan on giving all the survivors their medals personally." Maximilian gestured to the stack in the corner. "That's a lot of medals." Veers nodded. "It is. We won't be using all of them."

"What about the death troopers that went in before the assault? Have you found any of them?" Veers shrugged. "I don't know. We lost contact with them well before Ignis went in. Haven't found any bodies yet."

"Ok. How far have your people gotten into the facility?"

"A couple hundred feet. We'll have access to every section of that ruin come morning, provided the engineers don't get interrupted." Veers flicked the hologram so it displayed the mountain range to the East. "I've sent pickets out into the surrounding mountains. They'll designage choke points and enemy movement, but we still have an entire planet's worth of loyalist troops mobilized against us."

Maximilian grunted. "Without air support, they won't be able to get anywhere near the Devastation. And now that the orbital stations have been captured, I'll have enough ammunition to glass anything that gets within 50 miles of this position indefinitely."

"Good. You're opening up the ship's med bays as well, right?"

"Yes. I can probably get a couple thousand up there."

"You will want to discuss that with Dr. Bijil. He's our chief medical supervisor. He will be able to better allocate medical resources than I. Follow me." Veers gestured for Maximilian to follow him outside the Juggernaut and back into the mud. An escort of death troopers formed behind them. "So this doctor doesn't have a transmitter?" Maximilian asked, annoyed, as he followed Veers into the camp. Veers didn't turn around or slow his pace as he answered. "I've tried it in the past. He is usually too busy to pick up. It's a lot easier just to ask him in person."

"Or send a runner", Maximilian thought. The two commanders walked further through the camp, an escort of death troopers falling in behind them. They passed engineers patching up the melted carcasses of walkers, and artillerymen unloading shells from bulk loaders. Most were too busy to take notice. Maximilian cringed as the sound of industrial tools gave way to the sound of screaming wounded. "We're here", Veers said.

Maximilian noticed they had reached the field hospital the moment the mud had picked up a more prominent red hue. There were rows upon rows of long enclosed tents. Every couple hundred feet a generator of air exchange poked out the sides. Medical droids walked from tent to tent on slender wooden planks that rose above the mud. Every time they opened a tent flap, the wailing from inside would escape briefly. Part of Maximilian desperately didn't want to go inside, but he pushed in behind Veers anyway.

Lines of bunks were stacked up upon each other, thousands of them. Not a single one was vacant for more than a couple minutes. These bunks were connected by elevated steel pathways that held rails for wheeled medical droids who skittered about incredibly fast, carrying pain relievers, blood transfusions, stents, and bacta soluiton. Maximilian and veers moved aside as one zipped past them. "I expected more nurses", Maximilian said aloud. "Most of the nurses are at the triage station closer to the front", responded Veers. "This is surgery. Dr. Bijil should be just ahead."

The two made their way further in unimpeded. Some troopers recognized them and gave salutes which Veers and Maximilian returned. At the center of the tent was a medical droid that towered over the others. It had 16 arms that protruded from its back and sides like a metallic tree. Each arm ended in a different medical utensil, be it staplers, cauterizers, injectors, or bone saws. Giant glass cylinders of blood and bacta solution were attached to its shoulders and bubbled as they drained into several of the needle tipped operating arms. The entire topheavy thing was held in place by a pair of trapezoidal tracks that were caked in reddened mud. A conveyer of groaning wounded entered from outside and ended at the base of the machine, where they were treated, and the smaller droids ferried the bodies elsewhere. Maximilian didn't want to look at the thing longer than he had to and began skirting around it. An elderly voice stopped him.

"Ah, commodore Maximilian, well met! I suspected you might come down to lend a hand. Maximilian turned around and made an effort not to gag. Attached to the front of the machine by a collection of cables and wires was a human head. "I am Frideric Bijil", it said, "I oversee intensive care here". Even as Bijil talked, it kept operating on the man in front of it. Maximilian watched as it plucked out shrapnel from the man's back, disinfected, and stapled the wounds at a jackhammer pace. Soon one of the droids swooped in to pick the wounded man up. The next one was rolled in front of Bijil by the conveyor. "This looks grizzly, I know", Bijil said, "But it saves lives. As for the transmitter, I apologize. In the past it has distracted me to the point of 8 percent wastefulness." Without being asked, Bijil pointed further down the tent, past the conveyer. "We have a stasis freezer back in the right hand corner for patients with cranial damage. They take too long for me to put back together, so we save them for later. Problem is the freezer is almost full. I understand you brought your destroyer into orbit. Good. They can be cared for there. Maximilian nodded and took out his own transmitter back to the Devastation. "Thank you kindly", Bijil said and his head turned back to the body in front of him. He said nothing else. "We better be on our way", Veers murmured.

The two commanders stood outside the field hospital as a number of shuttles descended from the Devastation. Dr. Bijil had provided coordinates to a nearby landing pad , and a group of his medical droids were already moving frozen bodies into position as the first shuttle landed. I just got a report from pickets to the east", Veers said abruptly. "The Loyalist army has halted just 20 beyond the mountain range. Looks like they saw your destroyer. Maximilian nodded. He had been watching the ventral gun batteries of the Devastation swivel eastwards and several flights of TIE bombers had been deployed in that direction as well. The Loyalists hadn't yet made their next play, and Maximilian was content waiting for more data to arrive on their movement. While the Devastation would have the most devastating impact on the loyalists, should they engage, the fleet in orbit would also be able to assist by using targeting vectors provided by both Veer's pickets and the TIE fighters running reconnaissance. The loyalists were standing on the gallows, but nobody wanted to close the noose yet. There had been enough fighting today.

"Do you smoke commodore?" Veers asked, pulling out a pack of thin plastic cylinders. Maximilian shook his head. "I drink from time to time, but I never was particularly fond of Death Sticks."

"To each his own", Veers said, lighting one of the sticks and taking a long drag. He blew a column of purple vapor up into the sky, where it mingled amongst the smoke from the battle. He took several more drags, burning through the stick quickly and then stamped it out in the mud. "Alright then", Maximilian mumbled as he checked a watch underneath one of his sleeves. "I should be returning to the Devastation soon."

"What's keeping you then?" Veers asked as he took out another Death Stick.

"The troops. I should go see more of them, thank them for their service"

"Be my guest." Veers said between drags. "The survivors of Ignis Company are just across the road. I'll join you once I finish this."

Maximilian crossed the mud road that went between the surgery and recovery tents. He opened the flap and a short nurse walked over to meet him. "What can I do for you sir?" She seemed rushed but her tone was earnest. "I was hoping to speak to some of these wounded", Maximilian said.

"Of course sir", The nurse responded. "We are cleaning wounds in the eighth and ninth rows, and are taking on some new patients in the tenth, but that is all in the rear of the tent. Everything else should be open for you."

"Thank you… By chance, are there survivors from Ignis Company here?"

"I wouldn't know sir."

"Alright. I won't keep you longer."

The nurse nodded and walked away, leaving Maximilian alone with the wounded. They had been watching him. Part of Maximilian chastised himself for committing to this. He wasn't prepared and the stares of the wounded weighed on him like a tractor beam, but the shame of leaving without acknowledging their sacrifice would be worse. Maximilian knelt next to the bunk closest to him. The wounded soldier possessed injuries that were surprisingly similar to those Maximilian had acquired from the Defender wreck. His arm was in a heavy cast, and obvious patches of synth skin had been applied over some atrocious burns.

"What is your name, soldier?" Maximilian asked gently.

"Connor Lyst, sir."

"You're a brave man Connor"

"Thank you, sir."

Maximilian tried to keep the interactions brief. As he went from soldier to soldier, he asked their name, and thanked them for their service. There were some occasions where he asked a soldier's name and received no response. If it weren't for a heart rate being displayed above each bunk, he would have mistaken some for dead. He thanked them anyway. He had stood up from one such soldier and was seriously considering going back to the Devastation when he heard footsteps approaching behind him. "Are you the commodore?" Someone asked. Maximilian turned around and saw a dark skinned woman in field medic's armor. It looked like she was freshly out of combat. Her light armor was heavily dented, and streaks or red had splattered upon her shoulder pads and chest plate. When Maximilian looked at her face, he quickly noticed she had no lips, and a gastly permanent smile of scar tissue was splayed out in their place. Maximilian quickly refocused on her eyes. He hadn't seen her amongst the bunks, and that worried him.

It wasn't unheard of for PTSD to make soldiers unpredictably violent, and Maximilian didn't like that this woman had snuck up on him. His free hand inched closer to the small blaster pistol on his hip. He also noticed a death trooper near the tent's entrance take aim at the back of the woman's head. "I am", Maximilian said. The woman's eyes momentarily shifted to his blaster and she snapped into a crisp salute. "Samantha Montross of Ignis Company" , she said. Maximilian's hand relaxed. "Apologies for my forwardness, sir", Samantha said, "But I heard you were moving some of the critically wounded to your destroyer."

"You heard correctly. My shuttle crews are transferring them right now… Veers told me that your company fought valiantly. I suspect you all will be getting medals."

"I am not here for that sir."

"I didn't suppose you were."

"Permission to speak plainly sir?"

"You've been speaking plainly already, but granted."

"When Ignis entered the cannon, my squad had to split up. I learned that some wounded had been found in the lower levels of the facility and were transferred to the surgery tent. I wasn't allowed in to check on them." Maximilian thought it had to do something with her muddy, gore spattered armor but he kept that to himself. "I need to know whether my squadmates are alive or not", she said.

"I won't be able to let you onboard the Devastation, but I can certainly notify you if we find any members of Ignis. What names do you have for me?"

"I need you to look for two people, everyone else was killed."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"We knew the risks… My sergeant was a man named Cartwright. He was tall, black haired. He never told me his first name."

"The other?"

"A demolitions specialist named Hammond Blucher. He had short blond hair, stubble, a couple inches shorter than myself. He was suffering from a broken rib and I mended his punctured lung the last time we met."

Maximilian had imputed this information onto a data pad he had procured from his pocket. "Ok, I'm looking for a Sergeant Cartwright and a demolitions specialist named Hammond Blucher. If they are amongst the wounded we are taking onboard, I'll let you know."

"Thank you sir"

"No, thank you. The Empire needs more people with your devotion." There was a silence which was left unfilled. Samantha gave another salute which Maximilian returned and she walked off.

…

After the 200th soldier, Maximilian simply couldn't do it any more. He was earnest, but his little words of encouragement began feeling stale in his mouth. The transfer of wounded to the Devastation was also nearly complete, and it was the excuse he needed to get out of the mud. He exited the tent and checked his transmitter for updates. The largest orbital station was being prepared to house the Victory torpedo ship that had been damaged in the fighting, and negotiations were being planned with the planetary governors. That had been a surprise. The loyalist military was still kicking, but it looked like the politicians Palpatine had installed to run the planet could see that continued resistance was useless. Maximilian would have to speak with them eventually.

There were other updates as well. A couple hours ago, Kuat had successfully seceded from Courescont, and Grand Admiral Thrawn had repelled a sizable loyalist fleet that had been sent in to regain control. The other task forces sent out by the Empire of The Hand had also taken most of their objectives across the galaxy. The tide of loyalists fleeing from Endor had forced some allied task forces to retreat in the southwestern arm of the galaxy, but the overall loyalist movements were being closely monitored. If they posed a tangible threat, they would be dealt with.

The situation with the Rebels had gotten worse. The destruction of the Death Star had emboldened and empowered them. Armed violence had broken out across Lothal, Mon Cala, and Chandrilla. With the loyalist fleet in disarray, Palpatine missing, and the Empire of the Hand occupied, there was a good chance those planets would fall into Rebel hands. "It could be worse", Maximilian thought. All three of those planets were bread baskets, but only Mon Cala possessed shipyards of appreciable size. If the planets fell, the Rebels would certainly grow more powerful, but their industrial capabilities would still be far outside the capabilities of Kuat. Regardless, the rebels had been competent (or lucky) enough to destroy not one but both Death Stars. Maximilian didn't like thinking about what they could do with purpose built warships.

The transmitter lit up again and a message played out from the Devastation. It was Fia, the communications officer. "Sir, the medical deck is at capacity. Flight control wants to know if you are returning to the ship."

"Have a shuttle prepared. I will be leaving within the hour."

"Understood sir."

Maximilian could already see his shuttle being launched high above in the Devastation's ventral hangar. He felt his shoulders relax (their being tense he hadn't been aware of until now) and began trudging through the mud towards the shuttle pad. Veers joined Maximilian halfway back to the shuttle. "The loyalist army is turning back", Veers said. "Looks like they're not insane enough to run your gauntlet. Veers snorted. "Though I would have liked to see them try." Maximilian shrugged. "They still might. Ryloth hasn't formally surrendered yet. This is still a warzone."

"Don't I know it", Veers responded wearily. "There's one more thing you should know. The army found a couple local villages nearby, Twi'lek villages I mean. There's no way they didn't know about the cannon. It was clearly visible from the villages."

"What did you do with them?"

"There's another tent a little ways ahead. We promised to feed them and provide medical care as long as they were willing to answer a couple questions."

"And those who refused?"

"Are being watched. I suspect the stragglers will change their minds once the others come back unharmed. We're passing the tent now. To the right."

Maximilian looked at a broad, open walled tent housing thirty or so non-humans. The Twi'leks had the same general morphology as humans, but two fleshy, hairless tails jutted out from the back of their skulls. There was also a great deal more variety in skin tone amongst the species. There were yellow, blue, green, and purple individuals amongst the aliens. However, all of them shared the same emaciated features that came with the pressures of starvation. There were other similarities within the group as well.

"Why are they all female?" Maximilian asked after glancing over the group.

"Are you serious? Commodore, you saw action against pirates in the Malastare sector, right?"

"I did, Though I rarely ran into Twi'leks in my patrol routes. More Weequay than anything else."

"The academy didn't tell you then?"

"Tell me what?"

"Female Twi'leks are sold off as sex slaves. Stars above! Perth was probably turning a massive profit selling Ryloth's female population off to underworld scum. Disgust dripped from Veer's words like venom. "This lot (gesturing to the Twi'leks under the tent) has been saying that stormtroopers killed all the men in their villages. Ever since then, Perth has been moving them offworld."

Maximilian's blood ran cold. He knew better than most that the empire protected some insane and cruel individuals, but there had always been the excuse of keeping peace and order behind their madness. This had no excuse. It wasn't just evil. It was criminally evil. Maximilian looked back at his watch to take his eyes off of those emaciated faces. "I'm meeting with the planetary governors soon", Maximilian growled. "When I do, there will be questions regarding… this." Anger was washing over him in crashing waves, and Maximilian clenched his fists so hard his fingernails drew blood on his palms. This time, his anger wasn't fueled by loss or grief it was fueled by shame.

"I can't bear to look at this any longer." Maximilian muttered as he turned away.

"Eventually you get used to it", Veers responded, barely any louder.

Maximilian turned away from the Twi'leks and began walking towards the shuttle pad at a brisk pace. He wanted nothing more than to leave this stinking planet, and return to the clean, secure bulkheads and corridors of the Devastation. He had seen enough. It had been a mistake to leave the ship. If Veers had picked up on Maximilian's mood, he didn't comment on it. The two of them trudged through the mud in silence.

"Please stop."

Maximilian froze dead in his tracks. He recognized that voice. "Commodore, what's wrong?" Veers asked, concerned. "I heard something", Maximiliain responded distantly. He turned around and looked over the tents and mud desperately. Where did it come from? Maximilian began walking back the way he came. Veers followed and had the escort of death troopers take up a tighter formation. The voice that had been so clear now mingled amongst the various sounds of the camp. Maximilian's pace picked up. It was there. Maximilian could swear it was still there. "Commodore! Give me an update! What's the situation?!" Veers shouted as he matched Maximilian's pace. Suddenly the voice stopped. Maximilian was left turning around blindly, trying to catch that sound again.

Veers hand was suddenly on Maximilian's shoulder. "Commodore", Veers said slowly, "Your shuttle should be here soon. Whatever this problem is, I'll have my men take care of it. Tell me what you're hearing."

"I heard Cynthia's voice", Maximilian said in almost a whisper. The relative silence had washed back upon him like a tide, and he now felt embarrassed at having led Veers around like a startled chicken fleeing its keeper. "My apologies, General", Maximilian said, turning around. "I seem to have lost my composure." Veers nodded. "People hear things in places like this. There's so many voices that blend together, take on tones and inflections you could swear you recognize. It's happened to me once or twice… Cynthia. She's your wife I imagine?"

"She was." Maximilian shook his head. "She's been buried on Kuat for four years, but I could have sworn she was right behind me just now." Veers stayed silent for a couple moments as they turned back for the shuttle pad. "I lost my brother in the Clone Wars," he said suddenly. I heard him a couple times while on duty. It never helped. Can I offer you some advice Commodore?"

"I'm listening."

"Treat the past with reverence, but don't dwell on it. No good comes from that"

They passed by the Twi'lek refugee tent again, and Maximilian forced himself to look at the emaciated beings again. Some looked back at him with sunken, dower eyes. It took an effort not to turn away when they did. Then the voice returned. Maximilian laughed, but it didn't hide the desperation in his voice. "Veers, I'll be damned, but I'm hearing it again."

"Try to ignore it. She's not here commodore."

But Maximilian couldn't ignore it. He swore he could hear Cynthia speaking nearby; it was close enough to make out works.

"Listen, my sister has to be here. She would have found a way to escape Perth… Description? Umm, Purple skin. She has my eyes but is taller than me, very tall actually. You couldn't miss her…"

"Veers, this will haunt me if I don't investigate", Maximilian said. "I can hear her as we speak." Veers shrugged. "I don't recommend making a habit of this, Commodore, but do what you think you have to" He gave a silent salute (which Maximiliain returned) and walked off with half of the death trooper escort. That left Maximilian in front of the refugee tent with the voice of his wife. Maximilian walked through the tent, putting on a facade of routine inspection (barring the fact that a commodore inspecting a refugee tent was hardly routine). Some of the twi'leks stared at him, but looked away after he met their gaze. Though Maximilian didn't mean it, his expression was fierce and desparte. He had instructed the remaining death troopers to wait outside, which they did, but it hardly seemed to make a difference to the Twi'leks. They all were watching Maximilian and his escort with nervous eyes.

"There has to be something. Records, ship manifests anything! I lived under Perth's shadow for years. He's a monster, but not an intelligent monster. I swear I will tell you everything I know about this place. I just need to find my sister!"

The voice was so close now. Maximilian's pace quickened and he looked around more rapidly (which caused some of the more skittish - or abused - Twi'leks to cower). He sped past a cluster of medical droids, and then… he saw her.

A blue skinned Twi'lek woman sat propped up on a flimsy bunk. She was emaciated, like the others, but the dark bags under her eyes were especially prominent, and the veins along her arms stood out against her skin. She was trying to get the attention of the nurse taking her vitals, pleading for information about her sister. Maximilian walked closer and saw the girl in better detail. "Stars above", He exclaimed quietly to himself in a quivering voice. The Twi'lek woman had a crescent shaped birthmark on the right side of her Jaw, and her mahogany eyes shone in stark contrast to her blue face. The same birthmark and eyes had belonged to Cynthia.

The Nurse noticed Maximilian first and gave a quick salute before getting back to her duties. The Twi'lek girl stopped talking and turned to face him. Maximilian's blood ran cold. It was as if he was seeing her again. He walked forwards and thought of something to say, something appropriate for the situation.

"My name is Maximilien de la Château, and I assure you, Ryloth will never suffer as it has again", he said. Maximilian immediately thought it sounded cliche and predictable, like a line of propaganda, so he quickly added, "We will do everything we can to find your sister." The Twi'lek woman said nothing and looked up at him inquisitively. "You're wearing an imperial commodore's uniform", she said plainly, almost disappointedly. "That doesn't make sense. Are you a rebel defector?" Maximilian shook his head. "No, none of us are (gesturing around). We're all imperial, just fed up with Palpatine and his goons. We're looking to install a new Emperor. The girl gave a short laugh. "I'm sorry", she said. "This is just so surreal. Are you working with the rebellion at least?"

Maximilian shook his head again. "No", he said. There is no chance Mothma's rebels could have taken this planet. They simply don't have the necessary men or resources. A deep sadness seemed to work its way onto the girl's face. "I think you might be right", she said and wiped her eyes. Tears soaked her sleeves. "I thought they would though."

The girl looked like she was on the Verge of breaking down entirely, and Maximilian desperately didn't want that to happen. He was barely holding it together himself. "If you're comfortable answering, can I ask you your name?"

"How formal!" The girl teased, trying to hide the sadness that had crept into her face and voice a moment ago. "I'm Vivian." Maximilian smiled (the first completely genuine smile he had put on in a long time). "Well Vivian, Let's see if we can find your sister."

An Empty Grave

(Below the ruins of the hypervelocity cannon.)

Hammond pulled himself through the pitch black with his one working arm. His other arm had been shattered so badly that it trailed behind him on bloody cords of muscle and sinew. "Edward! Are you there?! He shouted in a pained, hoarse voice. Dust and smoke were slowly choking him and his awareness was starting to fade. How much blood had he lost? In the darkness, it was impossible to tell, but the remnants of his cracked armor held a pool of liquid which he could hear sloshing around as he crawled forwards. "Edward! Do you still have the med pack?!" He called again, this time breaking into a violent coughing fit.

Hammond and Edward had desperately searched for the reactor in the underbelly of this damned cannon, but there was only so much two people could do. They had been getting close. The bulkheads and armored doors they had snuck (and sometimes blasted) through had been getting thicker and thicker the further they went in. This change in structure indicated an internal layer of radiation shielding. They had been right on top of the reactor, but were too slow.

The first artillery volleys shook the facility to its core. Cracks began appearing in some of the walls. Concrete spalling forced them to duck and weave through the hallways. They had started running then, giving up any attempts at stealth. There might still be a chance they could shut down the reactor before the artillery destroyed the cannon entirely. They had sacrificed too much to do anything less.

The two army troopers would have been noticed immediately if it were not for the loyalists who were also sprinting with them. Scientists, stormtroopers, even some of the cyborg things were all fleeing for their lives, trying to get out of the facility. In the confusion, they blended into the crowd quite well, almost well enough to have reached the reactor.

An incredibly heavy blast door was coming up in front of them at the end of a cracking concrete hallway. Heavy power conduits went through the walls leading to this door, visibly venting as the strain from the artillery barrage opened up leaks. The door was partly open, and loyalist engineers and scientists were rushing in and out. Beyond the open door, Hammond could see a massive room dominated by a mess of black conduits and a silver spherical reaction chamber. Much like the conduits outside, this structure was belching steam and seemed on the verge of collapse. They had found it. They had found the reactor.

"We have to be quick", Hammond said to Edward, pointing to the open door. Edward nodded. "I hope it's not too much to ask for another miracle", the old soldier said wearily. They began sprinting towards the door. A ten second dash was all it would take to get inside the reactor room. Ten seconds to salvage this operation. They were seven seconds from reaching the door when Hammond's breath caught in his mouth. They had been running down a hallway perpendicular to the door, but just before reaching it, another hallway cut through their path. Along this hallway, the reactor's entrance was flanked by two crimson Royal Guards. All around them were the bodies of cobalt clad death troopers. The same death troopers Hammond had seen deploy from the assault ship some 20 hours ago. Their armor had been cleaved through as if it were warm butter, and their heads had been placed along the walls almost ceremoniously. Hammond counted 12 heads on the floor. It was clear they had been killed trying to get past the blast doors.

The Royal Guards hadn't dispatched the death troopers easily though. Both of the guards had carbon scoring all across their crimson armor, and their cloaks were chewed through with burn holes. One of the guard's visors was cracked, the other had a chunk of his helmet melted off. Suddenly, one of the guards' visors turned. Hammond and Edward had been identified. Without slowing, Hammond pulled a thermal detonator from his armor and cocked his arm back. Edward pressed his rifle to his shoulder. Both of them were injured, and were about to face the most elite warrior class fielded by the Empire. They engaged undaunted.

The guard on the left had an expensive blaster pistol out before Hammond even had a chance to throw the detonator. A plasma bolt bored into the explosive and it detonated in Hammond's hand, ripping his entire arm apart. The other guard shot Edward in the center of the chest. Hammond didn't see whether Edward's armor had saved him. They both fell to the floor simultaneously. The guards holstered their weapons and sprang over, drawing their chrome vibrostaffs. They were deceptively quick, and were standing over Hammond and Edward in a heartbeat. The royal guards raised their glinting weapons and prepared to add another two bodies to the pile. Before the staffs fell, a deafening roar went through the concrete. The floor rattled violently and broke apart from under them. Hammond fell past the guard into one of the widening fissures and darkness rushed in around him.

That had led Hammond here, crawling half dead through the stifling dark. He no longer had the capacity to call out Edwards name. It was taking everything to keep moving. The cannon shook again and Hammond heard the sound of falling concrete. It was close. He dug into the rubble in front of him more forcefully and began crawling a little faster. It wasn't fast enough. The rubble cracked and shattered under him again and he fell even deeper.

He was airborne for much longer than last time and landed hard on his side. There was an audible crack and Hammond found himself unable to draw breath. He suspected his lung had collapsed again. Hammond tried to move his good arm, but he couldn't feel it. In other circumstances, he would have checked to see if it was there in one piece but the light was completely gone and his other arm was a shredded mess.

His mind was foggy, and his heart began to slow down. After everything he had done to get here, it didn't seem right for him to go now. He had been so incredibly close. He had almost completed the mission. He raged against the dark, sputtering and frothing at the mouth, but no amount of willpower would save him now. His eyes closed, a tear cleaning a path down his grime smeared face. "I did all I could", he thought to himself. After suffering so much abuse to his body, Hammond had reached his limit. "Thump… Thump….. His heart stopped and Hammond Blucher died in the dark.

"Mennahg Dieg Mehhag. Ughull Allisch Angh Mehhag"

"Run swiftly with the light, for the night pursues with ravenous hunger"

Hammond's eyes shot open and a rasping gasp filled his lungs. A soft white light was shining overhead, which took his eyes some time to adjust to. "Take it slow soldier, you have been unconscious for 2.6 days", said a robotic voice off to Hammond's right. He turned his head and blinked a couple more times. As his vision cleared, he saw a humanoid medical droid tapping away at a computer terminal. "Your identification says you are Hammond Blucher, a demolition specialist of Ignis Company. Is this correct?" The medical droid asked. It didn't bother looking at him and kept typing into the terminal. "It is", Hammond responded, "Where am I?"

Past the droid were rows of high end medical bunks. The ceiling and walls were all reinforced, polished durasteel, and the medical implements Hammond saw being carted around were far more advanced than what he had seen in field hospitals before. "You are receiving care in the medical deck of the ISD Devastation. You were transferred here from planetside yesterday." Hammond didn't respond; he had just noticed his right arm was back. He couldn't stop looking at it. "I take it this is a prosthetic?" He asked. The droid turned its head and its oculars zoomed in and out with a mechanical whine. "I don't understand your meaning", It said quizzically.

"My arm, the right one. I lost it in combat. Is this a prosthetic?"

"When you were found, your body exhibited 98.4% integrity. Apart from minor lacerations, you still had your arms and legs about you. At present, we are treating you for radiation sickness."

"That can't be right", Hammond said as he flexed his arms. I know I was hurt badly."

"You were found by sergeant Cartwright of Ignis company. His reports state that you were relatively uninjured, though displaying severe signs of radiation sickness."

"Cartwright found me! Where is he? Have any other members of my squad been found?"

"Sergeant Lawrence Cartwright is currently being cared for in the planetside field hospital. Combat medic Samantha Montross is also stationed there. I apologize. That is the extent of your unit that I know survived."

"There was another soldier, a rifleman named Edward. He was from a different squad but we fought together. We were both from Ignis company. Do you have any information on him?"

"A moment", the droid said, tapping at his computer. As the droid typed away Hammond surveyed his bunk. There was a collection of different IV bags hanging from the wall above him. They all weaved into import needles which were inserted into his arms, legs and chest. He presumed it was the treatment for radiation poisoning. He noticed something else. All the other patients appeared comatose. The droid must have seen him staring because it said, "The Devastation has been taking on individuals with nerve damage and other injuries that require complex treatment, such as your radiation sickness. You are the first on this deck to regain consciousness. Congratulations."

Hammond didn't respond. He didn't feel like he was in much of a position to be congratulated for anything. "Here we are!" The droid exclaimed suddenly. "Edward Sneide… Deceased… I'm sorry..

"Dammit", Hammond cursed, putting a hand over his eyes. "I was hoping he made it. Just…. God Dammit!" Hammond took a breath and tried to get a hold of himself. "Are you able to tell me what his cause of death was?"

"Processing. A blaster bolt destroyed his left ventricle. It is presumed he died seconds after the injury. Were you close?"

"I hardly knew him", Hammond admitted. "But he saved my life twice." Hammond scowled and cursed again.

"Perhaps I can get you in contact with your sergeant", the droid asked. "He wanted to know if you recovered fully." Hammond nodded. At this point, he needed to see that there were survivors. "I'll check whether sergeant Lawrence Cartwright is available '', the droid said. I believe Samantha Montross also expressed interest in making sure you were recovering. Would it be permissible if I notified her of your current status?"

"Go ahead."

"Thank you. Hmm, that was quick." The droid turned from the computer and its eyes dilated. A light blue hologram projected from the droid's eyes and materialized next to Hammond's bunk. It depicted Cartwright on a much cheaper medical bunk. Hammond recognized the scarring of synthetic skin over the sergeant's shoulders and chest, and a heavy oxygen intake mask was over Cartwright's mouth. Despite all of this, Hammond could see the edges of Cartwright's lips behind the mask. He was smiling.

"I'll be damned, you don't have a scratch on you!" Cartwright exclaimed.

"The meds planetside must be a real shitshow then", Hammond said, half jokingly.

"Ahh, It's not that bad. They're well stocked in pain relievers which is all I really care about, but Sunny might have some stronger words on this topic than I."

"I'm glad both of you are alive at least. What happened to you after we got separated?

"Cartwright grunted from behind his oxygen mask. "I did a lot of crawling and a lot of hiding. When the bombardment hit, the cyborg things stopped following me, thank the stars. I was able to escape while the loyalists were busy evacuating. What happened to you? I didn't get a chance to ask."

"Edward and I found ourselves in a similar circumstance with the bombardment. Hell, we were able to get all the way to the reactor doors by just blending in with the crowd of panicking loyalists. I think we could have gotten in, but we were engaged by Royal Guards. There was nothing we could do about it." There was a slight pause before Cartwright responded.

"When you say royal guards, what do you mean?"

"I mean the bastards with the red armor. The ones people don't see much."

"... That's pretty big news. Those guys rarely leave Palpatine's side. What were they doing when you found them?"

"Guarding a heavy blast door. It looked thick enough to be the entrance to the reactor room, but I never got inside." Hammond paused, racking his memory. "There were signs of a fight though. I think the Royal Guards killed the death trooper squads that had been sent in before us. I counted twelve bodies." Hammond's scowl deepened. "Those evil bastards decapitated them. We tried to fight, but the guards took us by surprise. They killed Edward and wounded me badly." Hammond looked down at his healthy body. "I could have sworn I was missing an arm."

Cartwright nodded slowly. "I'm not saying I doubt you Hammond, but when I found you, you were wandering the swamps just to the west of the cannon. It was sheer luck that my escape route crossed yours. At the time, you were so delirious that I couldn't even get a coherent response from you. Sounded like you were talking in tongues. Do you remember any of that?"

Hammond shook his head. "No I don't."

"Once again, I believe you saw all this, but the lower levels of the Cannon are all caved in. I don't think you could have made it back if you were anywhere near the reactor. I've been told you were exposed to a lot of radiation after we split, is it possible that you might have seen things that weren't there?

"Illusions and delirium are a symptom of radiation sickness." Said the droid. "Do you recall anything that may have exposed you to the radiation?"

"Yeah, yeah I do." Hammond said in a distant voice. "Edward and I passed through the roots of some kind of cooling tower when we tried to lose our pursuers. That wasn't long after Cartwright left to lure the things away. Half an hour maybe? Edward passed out from the heat, so I carried him to safety, then I passed out. I remember smelling ozone in the air. Sure, that could have been radiation.

Hammond's voice was getting more frantic. "But Edward woke back up and got us out of there. We had found our way to the lower levels through a vent in a sanitation room. My memories can't all be a radiation induced hallucination. Everything was too vivid!" Hammond looked back down at his arm. He wasn't even fully swayed by his argument. "Edward was with me up until the end", he said with desperation. "Where did they find his body?" The last question was meant for the droid.

"Edward Sneide's body was recovered by an excavation team six hours ago. He was found in what is being termed F level, the deepest layer of the cannon facility yet explored. However, it is hard to determine where he actually died. The structural collapse has mixed several levels of the facility. It is probable that Edward Sneide died much higher up and then fell to his recovery site as the cannon collapsed. He was the only known casualty found in F level. We have yet to find any bodies of death troopers or royal guards that might corroborate your story."

Cartwright's expression was that of earnest pity, and Hammond hated it. He didn't feel like explaining himself further, not when it seemed futile. Perhaps he was suffering from radiation induced hallucinations, he did have both arms after all, but it was still infuriating to have all the trauma he suffered in the facility be a lie. Cartwright must have noticed Hammond's change in demeanor because he altered the topic of conversation to the state of the invasion overall. "Well, Ryloth has been taken if there's any silver lining to this. The local governors have formally surrendered, and are transferring control of the remaining planetary defense systems to us. There were pockets of resistance from loyalist garrisions, but those are being dealt with…

Hammond tried his best to make it look like he was paying attention. Some time passed and a nurse appeared in Cartwright's projection. "Looks like I have to end this here", Cartwright said. "Take care of yourself Hammond." The transmission went dark.

"Very bizarre", the droid mumbled after a couple minutes of typing on its computer. "I've taken the liberty of looking into Samantha Montross's post battle medical reports. She states you suffered from a collapsed right lung and two broken ribs. I'm cross referencing your previous examinations, along with my own sensor suite, but I'm not seeing those injuries. Just for recording purposes, would you mind confirming that Samantha made a mistake in this diagnosis?

Hammond's eyes widened. "No, I remember her operating on me. It felt like something had been broken in my side, and it was difficult for me to breathe. That was before I was exposed to radiation."

"But you have no signs of broken ribs, and neither your pleural space nor lungs have been disturbed. I've run the diagnostic three times already."

"I know what happened to me."

Unable to acknowledge this new data, the droid went quiet and returned to its computer. Hammond stared up at the steel ceiling above him. He was tired, so tired. He knew he should contact Sunny, but he hoped it could wait until tomorrow. The chat with Cartwright hadn't left him in good spirits, and he didn't want it to carry over to a conversation with Sunny. Tomorrow will be better. He just needed to rest and clear his head.

Several hours passed and the overhead lights in the medical wing dimmed to simulate night. Many of the medical droids had returned to charging ports in the walls except for a couple who made rounds up and down the deck. There were quiet beeps of electrocardiogram readings, soft puffing of respirator masks, the semi-regular typing of droids on computers. It was during these quiet hours that Hammond woke up.

His lips were dry and his throat was sore. Reflexively, he checked his arm, IV lines shifted as he moved. His limb was still there. A medical droid passed and he tried getting its attention. "Can I get some water?" He asked. His voice trailed off as the droid passed without acknowledging him. Hammond gave a dry cough and waited for another droid to pass. Ten minutes went by, then fifteen, then thirty. Hammond gave up on the droids and closed his eyes again.

The next time he woke up, the main lights in the medical ward were off entirely. Only the green pulse displays from the surrounding electrocardiograms lit up the surroundings. "BEEP…BEEP…BEEP." The lighting in the medical ward pulsed with a green rhythmic pattern. The immoble bodies of the other patients lit up, then went dark, lit up, then went dark. It was eerie, not least of which because Hammond didn't see any activity on the deck. Everyone else was either comatose or sleeping. It felt like he was the only one actually there.

Hammond had forced his eyes closed for several minutes before something struck him as odd. "Why are they all going off at the same time?" He opened his eyes again. All the electrocardiograms were beeping at the exact same pace. That shouldn't happen. It would mean that everyone on this deck had the exact same heartbeat. "Hey, there's a technical error with the displays on this deck!" Hammond shouted. Nothing. "Hello!" He shouted again before breaking up into a coughing fit. His throat was still parched and sore.

Something moved and Hammond found himself frozen on his bunk. Lit up just on the periphery of his vision was a tall figure. Perhaps it was a nurse or someone from the engineering crew here to fix the problem with ECG displays. It began walking closer. "Beep", darkness, "Beep", darkness. The figure got closer and closer. With every "Beep", it became more and more apparent that the figure wasn't a nurse.

It wore a simple black mourning cloak that dragged behind it. It made absolutely no noise as it moved, and its cloak didn't so much as ripple. It went from bunk to bunk, leaning down and staring at the comatose bodies of soldiers. As it left, the electrocardiogram displays went silent, as if they had been cut off from their power supply. The figure was saying something over and over to itself. Its voice sounded like wind blowing through razor tipped mountaintops.

"Mennahg Dieg Mehhag. Ughull Allisch Angh Mehhag"

"Mennahg Dieg Mehhag. Ughull Allisch Angh Mehhag"

"Mennahg Dieg Mehhag. Ughull Allisch Angh Mehhag"

As it drew closer, more of its features became apparent in the weaning green light. Its hands were as intangible as thin wisps of smoke and they bore the appearance of fleshless bones. One of these hands lightly grasped a short length of thin rusted tubing that seemed to be perpetually crumbling apart and falling to the ground. Before the rust flakes hit the ground, they would disappear.

Then there was its face, or what very little Hamond could see of it. The only thing visible underneath the hood was the protuberance of two jet black bone eye sockets. The darkness that these sockets held was infinitely more frightening. Darker and emptier than a starless void, it felt like something that was never supposed to be seen by human eyes. Waves of "wrongness" seemed to be pulsing from those empty sockets.

"This is a dream", Hammond told himself. The thing stopped and noiselessly turned its head to look straight at him. "This is a radiation induced nightmare", Hammond continued. He tried getting up but his body wouldn't respond. "This isn't real."

"No Hammond, it is." The voice that said this didn't belong to the figure. It had come from Hammond's right shoulder. A gloved hand rested there. The glove was standard issue imperial army pattern, and it attached to a battered elbow guard and shoulder plate. The other hand held a DL-50 machine blaster leveled at the figure. With that hand at his shoulder, Hammond realized he was able to move again. He recognized the voice but didn't believe it was really there, not any more than the terrible figure further down the hall. Hammond turned his head and saw Jug.

The trooper was still wearing his heavy armor, but his gas mask was gone. Hammond saw the contour of Jug's black beared in the flashing green light. He saw the hole in Jug's neck where shrapnel had killed him. A large stain of black, dried blood surrounded that wound and stained the armor below. His machine blaster was still pointed at the figure who was still standing there motionless.

"Hammond, listen to me very carefully", Jug said. "I wasn't told exactly what that thing is", but I do know it is completely, irreversibly evil. You had the misfortune of stumbling right in front of its grave before you died. It'll be following you now."
"Wait, I'm dead?" Hammond stammered.

"Only a little. You're less dead than me anyway." Without taking his eyes off the figure jug moved his hand from Hammond's shoulder and set up the bipod for his machine blaster. He knelt and supported the blaster on the bunk to Hammond's right. "Make sure you're paying attention", Jug said with a deathly serious tone. I want you to remember what it looks like and what it sounds like because it's never going to stop hunting you. Edward, myself, and a bunch of other dead schmucks will try to keep you safe, but I doubt we can do it indefinitely. You have to help us figure out what this thing is and, more importantly, how to kill it. Now, get those IV lines out of your arms and run.

Hammond had already gotten the IV lines out, but he lingered at the edge of the bed. "Jug, I don't know if any of this is real, but whether or not it is, I am so sorry I couldn't save you." Jug laughed. "You can make it up to me by leaving 40 credits on my grave. Now run!

The moment Hammond started running, Jug opened fire on the figure. Hammond saw the first few bolts punch into its cloak and exit through the other side as puffs of mist. The figure staggered but didn't fall. The rusting tube in its hand ignited in a blood red blade that illuminated the deck. Hammond began running faster. As he sprinted down the deck, he saw Edward lean up against a wall further back. The old man was taking long range shots at the figure with his E-11 rifle. A visible hole had been burned in his chest armor. As Hammond flew past him, the dead rifleman smiled."Good luck, Miracle Man", he said.

A Twi'lek Woman

(Intelligence Department - The Devastation - Three days after the shelling of the cannon)

Maximilian swiped through an electronic dossier that had been given over to him by an intelligence officer. He was sitting on an uncomfortable metal stool erected underneath a nondescript metal table. Vivian, the Twi'lek woman he had met two days ago, sat opposite of him. She had an electronic dossier as well, though the data within hers was heavily censored. An adhesive patch had been fastened to her shoulder which gave a small, constant dose of neuro stimulant that fended off her withdrawal symptoms. It had taken quite a bit of convincing from Maximilian to get the medical deck to part with it.

They were technically in the intelligence department's lounge, though it felt more like a large prison cell with some pleasant afterthoughts. An ancient coffee machine was bolted to one of the tables, and some of the seats had pillows bearing pictures of cats or popular pod racing team logos. These scarce elements of confort were the property of the intelligence staff that seemed to frequent this lounge once every blue moon when they could find time away from their duties. The remoteness of this room was why Maximilian had set up here. It was freely accessible, but nobody really showed up in practice. It was a way Maximilian could dodge the implications that might accompany bringing Vivian to the captain's quarters. It was also a heavily monitored and guarded section of the ship. If Vivian tried to run, she wouldn't get far.

The loyalist governors had given Maximilian access to all Ryloth's commercial flight data. The comings and goings of military vessels were more difficult to to find, but they could be predicted through the documented movement of less confidential support vessels. Along with completing all his other duties, Maximilian had spent the last couple sleepless nights trying to help Vivian find her sister.

This night, Maximilian was looking through cargo manifestos regarding a number of colliers that had been servicing the loyalist destroyers in orbit. The give away for a slave ship was an excessive food and water supply, and Maximilian had hunted through the manifestos looking for this sign. Thus far, he had found four destroyers that had received more rations than were normally utilized in imperial standard operations. They had departed at four different times throughout this year, and would be difficult to find. However, one of them had been disabled in the orbital battle before it managed to leave the system. The current survivor records did not indicate that Vivian's sister was onboard.

Vivian was reviewing survivor records gathered by the army from the surrounding towns and villages. Maximilian made sure it wasn't data that would compromise the fleet, but the fact that he had given formal records to this woman was still unprecedented.

"This used to be a town of five thousand people", Vivian said as she looked at a report regarding a ghost town to the south of the Cannon. It says they didn't find a single person. Maximilian saw a tear fall from Vivian's nose onto the data pad. She wiped it away as she swiped the page.

Maximilian thought he should try to say something. "It takes time to properly survey a settlement. It's possible the scouts missed a couple people on their first pass. There's bound to be survivors hiding somewhere."

"Do you really think five thousand people could squeeze into a couple basements?" Vivian asked with venom. "It's been the same town after town." Vivian set down the dossier and put her head in her hands. "I know Perth was raping our planet, but this! It's too much!" She began quietly sobbing into her hands, leaving Maximilian at a loss for words. What could possibly be said to console a person who had lost everything. Maximilian settled for the simplest consolation available.

"Vivian. I am so sorry for what the Empire did to you and your people." Vivian looked up. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks and chin were moistened with tears. When she spoke there was a depth of pain in her voice that Maximlian had never heard from another person before. "How?" She asked. "How can you be sorry?!" You're imperial! How did you not know this was happening?!"

"I…" Maximilian stammered. "...Ryloth was never my sector. I patrolled the Malastare hyper space junction. I made sure traffic got from one jump point to the next without being attacked by pirates or rebels. From my view, it looked like the Empire was doing the right thing… When I heard otherwise, I chalked it up to the mistakes of poor commanders or over blown rumors spread by rebel sympathizers." It sounded idiotic to Maximilian even as he said it. "I had a very narrow view of the galaxy, and by the time I realized my mistake, it was already too late."

Vivian leaned in. She was feeling so much grief herself that she needed to be distracted by another person's story, even if that person was, or had been, imperial. Anything to take her away from the terrible weight of the present. The drugs had made her oblivious for a long, long time, and part of her wished she had remained so, but there was no going back to that now. Vivian couldn't allow herself to.

There was also something in the commodore's voice, something they shared. Pain. She could tell he was trying desperately to hide it, but it bled through nonetheless. Something had happened that broke the commodore's faith in the Empire, and Vivian welcomed the distraction of figuring out what it was.

"What changed your mind about the Empire", she asked. She thought she might as well start with a simple question. Maximilian leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before responding.

"I lost a person I loved", he said with a forcibly neutral voice.

"I'm sorry…. Both for your loss and, well, for being a hypocrite just now. I shouldn't have chewed you out when you apologized to me."

"No. You are still in the right to be furious, both at me and Perth. I should have done something about the state of the galaxy earlier, years earlier, but I was blind and my blindness allowed this to happen… Evil is like a wound. It needs to be left in the dark in order to fester."

"Hmm, that's the first time I've heard a saying like that. Did you have some medical background before your military career?"

"None myself. My wife did. She was a brilliant surgeon. I learned a lot of medical jargon from her."

Vivian nodded and gave the commodore a second to compose himself. His act was wavering.

"What was her name?" Vivian asked. Her voice had become more gentle.

"...Cynthia…. Her name was Cynthia…."

Maximilian fought back the wave of emotion that had almost overtaken him. He was a commodore of the Empire of the Hand, dammit! He wasn't going to let himself appear so weak, especially not in front of a woman he barely knew and couldn't necessarily trust. But that was the thing. He did know this woman, at least in a certain way. Disregarding the blue skin and the fleshy tails instead of hair, Vivian looked exactly like Cynthia, from the mahogany eyes to the birth mark on her chin, to the face structure. It was the same. Her voice, stars above, her voice was Cythia's as well. Maximilian had never been a particularly superstitious man, but finding this woman at this time, on this world was such a miniscule chance that it was nothing short of a miracle.

After a while looking at their respective dossiers, Vivian spoke again.

"Commodore, I don't mean to be rude, but I have to ask this. Why am I here?"

Maximilian's brow furrowed slightly as he spoke. "When I saw you and some of the other Twi'leks, it shocked me. I realized I needed to consult with someone who had lived through Perth's rule to help me set things straight. I couldn't pass by, not after seeing what had happened to all of you. Even if it was just one Twi'lek, I needed to start helping somehow. I know this sounds hardly professional, but the shame that came with what Perth did, what the Empire did, would have crushed me if I hadn't done something, anything to counteract it.

Vivian stared at Maximilian for an uncomfortably long moment, then she spoke again.

"Take this as constructive criticism commodore, but you are probably the worst liar I have ever met."

"What? No. I meant what I said."

"Oh, I believe it's part of the reason, but only a part, and I'm pretty sure you made it up for yourself after the fact. Look, I'm not convinced that you had me whisked up to your ship solely because you felt guilt for Perth's actions. No, there's something more to this. Commodore, am I supposed to be some sort of comfort woman for you? There's no shame in saying yes, and it's not going to change my opinion of you. I just need to understand why you brought me here."

Maximilian blushed, much to his personal horror. He dropped the dossier and held up his hands slightly as if Vivian had pointed a blaster pistol at him. "No, that is not the case whatsoever." He said hastily. Vivian smiled and, despite her initial effort not to, began laughing. "It's the truth!" Maximilian said indignantly.

"You sure?" Vivian asked, still smiling. "Because your face is telling me otherwise."

"You misconstrue my meaning. You're not here to be my courtesan or anything like that.

"Courtesan? How polite of you to use the fancy term for it."

"Vivian, please allow me to explain myself."

"Go ahead commodore, but remember what I said. You are a terrible liar. It'll be fun watching you ramble through excuses, each one getting less believable than the last."

"To the truth of it then."

Maximilian rummaged through his coat pocket and grasped a small plastic ID card. He placed it face down on the table so that Vivian couldn't see what was on it. "Vivian, are you religious? Do you believe in fate or miracles?"

"No, I don't", Vivian said immediately. "I lost all of that when Perth arrived?"

"I was the same way for most of my life. I always preferred science and mathematics to shed light on the galaxy. However, an event happened recently that seemed so incredibly rare to me that I can't help but think it was some sort of miracle."

"What are you trying to say, Commodore? Am I supposed to be a miracle to you?"

Vivian saw the commodore's face twitch. He was struggling to reign in himself again. She watched as he slowly flipped over the ID card and slid it across the table to her. "This was my wife's identification card back when she was a medical student at Courescont. The last time I saw her alive, she gave it to me as a farewell gift, something to remember her by while we were apart. Does it look familiar?"

Vivian picked up the id and looked at the little picture that had been imprinted on it. There was a human woman who looked to be in her late twenties. She had long golden hair and a beaming white smile. She had mahogany eyes and… a crescent shaped birthmark on her chin. Vivian reflexively touched her own birthmark. It was like she was looking in a mirror.

"I don't know what to say.", Vivian gasped, handing back the Id. Maximilian set it gingerly in his coat pocket. "My wife has been dead for four years", Maximilian said. "And it was my fault, my own willful ignorance of what the Empire had become. I got her killed. Vivian looked into the commodore's eyes. He was telling the truth. "I never got a chance to say goodbye to her, nor a chance to tell her I was sorry. When I saw her body, what they had done to her…. My world crumbled around me. I…..I…"

Vivian noticed a wet film appear over the Commodore's eyes. His brow furrowed further, the careful measure he put on his voice eroded. Within seconds, all the commodore's mental fortifications fell apart. "I would have done anything to see her again!" Maximilian sobbed. "And I know you're not her, but how I wish you were!" The commodore broke down entirely. Vivian could see him trying to reign back in control, but it was too much for him. His weeping would die down for a moment only to come back with a vengeance.

"Please stop", Vivian said in a shaking voice of her own. She didn't mean it in a rude way. The commodore's display was tearing down her own mental resolve. Tears began trickling down her face again. "Please…. Stop…" She found herself sobbing again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry", The commodore was repeating whenever he could find breath for it.

Without knowing whether it would be the correct thing to do, Vivian got up and walked around the table to the commodore. He was still leaning on the table sobbing. "I'm sorry…. I'm so sorry". Tears streaming down her own face, Vivian wrapped her arms around the commodore. "I know you are", she said.

An Overstayed Welcome

(Chancellor's room, Chandrillain capitol building, present)

Chancellor Mothma and Captain Ghaghikh Lghghah sat across from each other at the chancellor's meeting table. Outside, a maintenance droid was clearing ice from the window. In the four corners of the relatively small room, honor guards stood at attention, though the circumstances of this meeting made them visibly nervous. In the center of the table, being projected by a high end hologram emitter was the livid image of Senator Leia Organa.

"You allowed this stranger into the chancellor's office?!" Organna shouted at Captain Ghaghikh. "Did you not think to schedule a meeting between Alida Rospas and 'Mon' (a nickname Organna had for the chancellor - they were close friends) via hologram?"

"I… I didn't want to risk giving away the Jedi's identity to message tappers." Ghaghikh stammered.

"Whoever this woman is, she is not a jedi!" Leia exclaimed, visibly furious. Luke would not send one of his pupils to the seat of New Republic power unannounced." Organna turned to the chancellor. "Mon, did you not see the red flags? A jedi who claims to have "unparalleled" powers of premonition shows up after two major disasters hit the capitol. Why didn't she stop those from happening? Why didn't she give you all a warning? This woman has no relation to Luke in any capacity, and I doubt she's even loyal to the New Republic."

"Are you saying that she might be the imperial spy?" Ghaghikh asked.

"How did you ever manage to achieve your position?! Leia said, shaking her head. "This should be obvious?! Yafu Malik blew the spy's cover, so she had to change her strategy. She puts on a little makeup, assembles an imitation lightsaber, and poses as a jedi so that she can get into the capitol. With the help of your incompetence, captain, she's already compromised the security of this building. You need to scan every millimeter and I mean every single millimeter for spy droids. I have no doubt she's planted a couple somewhere."

It was the chancellor's turn to speak. "If Luke Skywalker actually kept in touch with us, perhaps this problem would have been avoided altogether." The chancellor's own temper was rising. "We've dealt with spy droids before, senator. If this woman has left any, we'll find them. Also, It was my idea to see Alida in person, not Ghaghikh's. There still is a chance this woman is what she says she is. Perhaps Alida is an independent force wielder who used Luke's name to make sure she got an audience with me. She says I will die at this party. Wouldn't it be a stroke of irony if we had her arrested, and some imperial assassin actually does show up to send me on my way.

"This is not something to joke about, and I guarantee Alida is not force sensitive", Organna interrupted.

"And even if she's not, we can gain so much by having a spy around who thinks we aren't on to her. A good spy uses some truth in every lie she tells. So, we press this individual. We bombard her with questions and difficult situations she can't entirely squeeze her way out of. She won't tell us her entire story, sure, but we can pick up some valuable information before locking her up. Of course, we keep an eye on her at all times. By the end of this, I believe we will know who this woman is and who she works for. And maybe, just maybe, we can keep her around long enough for Luke to deign to show up and take a look himself."

"Luke has done so much for the New Republic. You don't need to insult him like that."

"He calls himself a jedi right? I'll stop insulting him when he does a better job than his predecessors at keeping the Republic safe."

"He already has", Organna sighed.

"If I may interrupt", Ghaghikh said, "My new deputy, Naveen Lukrizia. Is completely loyal to us. Her performance this month demonstrates it. She's also quite skilled with people in a more civilian kind of way. She might prove useful in luling this alleged spy into a false sense of security."

"No. Keep your deputy as far away from that spy as possible", Organna said immediately. This caused the chancellor to raise an eyebrow, but she let Organna speak. "I've read the file on Yafu Malik's murder. Your corrupt precinct almost got Naveen killed along with him, I'm not going to let it happen again."

"With due respect, she is my deputy, and it's her choice as well."

"Then let me give her more options. Where is Naveen right now?"

"She's at the precinct, but why is this so important to you, senator?"

"Because your deputy is force sensitive and you know it. You've been hiding her from us."

That caused Ghaghikh's blood to run colder than usual. His jaw worked but no sound came out. How did senator Organa know this?

"My God, your deputy was force sensitive this entire time?!" The chancellor exclaimed. "Captain, how long have you kept this from us?" Ghaghikh finally managed to find his voice. "Since I employed her, maam." The chancellor was silent for a moment before she turned back to Organa. "How powerful is she?"

"Very. Right now, she is a danger to herself and those around her. I'm certain Luke will show up soon to pick her up." That angered Ghaghikh so much that he snarled and interrupted them. "So let me get this straight. Skywalker won't show up to help with the breaking yards, the spy, or the crime syndicates, but the moment he hears I have a force user in my precinct, he comes running like starved mangy mutt!" Ghaghikh tore off his badge and slammed it on the table. "The Jedi ignore our problems until it's convenient for them. Have you two ever driven through Mothmatown? Have you braved burning buildings to save the souls inside. Have you ever actually seen what criminals in this city are capable of with your own eyes? ANSWER ME! The room remained silent, so Ghaghikh continued. They've gotten more bold, more powerful, more intelligent. I need force users to level the playing field." His anger had just expended itself and he went silent.

"Pick up your badge Ghaghikh", said the chancellor. "Now, I want you to retrieve deputy Naveen and bring her to the capitol building where she can be kept safe. I'll have Alida transferred somewhere else soon. When this is all over, I want to see you back here." There was a silent addendum to that order that Ghagikh could hear in the chancellor's voice all too well. It caused a slight grin to spread across his face. The chancellor had agreed with him. The Jedi needed to get more involved.

…

Five floors below the chancellor's office was a lavish guest suite. There, Vivian listened in on the conversation between Ghaghikh, Organa, and the chancellor through a tiny, earpiece. She had no doubt there was a camera hidden somewhere in her room, so she pretended to sleep as she listened. Her GI spy droids were finally fulfilling their purpose. This filled Vivian with sweet satisfaction. Even though Maximilian had excused her, she had still completed her original mission. The security of the Chandrillian Capitol building, the seat of power in the New Republic, had been compromised, and Vivian reveled in it. The chancellor and senator Organa were welcome to scrounge every millimeter of the capitol for spy droids. They'd never find them. One droid was safely burrowed in the lining of the chancellor's intestine, the others were circulating through the other levels of the Capitol like germs.

It was almost laughable to Vivian. She had used one of the oldest tricks in the book to get the droids in place. Sleight of hand. Vivian had installed a surgical grade tractor beam into her left arm. The slender power pack was tucked between the muscles in her forearm and the emitter was just under the skin of her palm. It was a weak, short range tractor beam, barely capable of lifting anything more than a pitcher of water, but it had paid for itself a hundred times over.

When the chancellor had asked her to move the cup of water, Vivian had done just so with the tractor beam. As the conversation upstairs indicated, it hadn't fooled the chancellor for long, but it had distracted her, her guards, and Ghaghikh from what Vivian was actually doing at the time. While the water cup was flying into Vivian's left hand, and everyone's eyes were upon it, Vivian had reached into her cloak with her right hand, had undone a secret zipper in her pocket, and had tossed her entire supply of tiny GI droids into the chancellor's pitcher of water. The droids might have been visible against a solid surface, but in a liquid, they were all but invisible.

The chancellor had drunk from this pitcher and it had been brought (and refilled) from meeting to meeting. It would take a little time for Vivian to identify who exactly the droids had embedded in, but she had already gotten eight units monitoring targets. She could quite literally walk out the Capitol door right now and call her mission a success. As bad as Vivian felt thinking it, it was a stroke of luck that Yafu was no longer around to complicate things. He had died before he could hand over the more telling evidence regarding Vivian and her mission, but even if that stuff was found, it wouldn't reveal much more than the chancellor and senator already suspected.

Suddenly, there was a light tap at Vivian's door. She walked up to it and looked through the observation port. Deputy Naveen Lukriza was standing out there, looking pensive and lost. Naveen seriously considered leaving the door closed until Naveen wandered off, but it didn't look like the deputy was going anywhere. A shame too, Vivian was just about to leave.

…

Naveen leaned on a railing and watched the indoor waterfall cascade to the floor far below. Ghaghikh had asked her to return to the precinct, but she had decided to use up her lunch hour to visit Alida. She had so many questions she wanted to ask the Jedi. However, Naveen was getting concerned. It had been four minutes since she had knocked on the door to Alida's suite, and there still hadn't been an answer. Was she sleeping? Was she even home? Naveen knew it was rude but she needed someone to talk to who knew about Jedi stuff. Ghaghikh knew a little, but it wasn't enough. Naveen had to see a professional. She knocked on the door again, and, to her surprise, it opened immediately.

"What can I do for you, deputy?"Alida asked.

"Sorry to disturb you. May I come in?"

Alida looked concerned. "I thought Ghaghikh had sent you back to the precinct?"

"Ohh, umm, yeah he did, but I'm on my break right now. I need to talk to you about something."

Alida held Naveen's gaze for a couple moments, then she relented. "Ok", she said, "But try to make this quick. I don't want to get in trouble with your captain."

"Thank you so much!" Naveen said as she rushed inside.

The interior of the room was composed of a bedroom and a living room furnished with several padded recliners and a small coffee table. A single south facing window let in light from outside. Unfortunately, it also showed the wreckage of the breaking yards. Naveen averted her eyes from the yards before she could get a headache again.

"Feel free to take a seat", alida said invitingly, gesturing to the chairs laid out around the coffee table. Naveen chose the one facing away from the breaking yards. "Can I get you something to drink?" Alida asked. The room had been stocked with considerable supply of beverages, alcoholic and otherwise. "I'm still technically on duty", Naveen responded quickly. "I don't need anything, but thank you" Alida nodded and took the seat facing the breaking yards. "So Naveen, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Naveen wrung her hands together. "Did Ghaghikh tell you about what happened to our precinct last week?"

I tried not to press it. From what I picked up, a cartel sent some agent to kill a liability of theirs. Do I have that right?" Naveen nodded.

"I was trying to get information from him when it happened", she said. He was an inmate named Yafu Malik. I didn't think he was a bad person, just lost, but the creature that broke in wanted him dead. I tried to fight back but it killed officer smithee. Then it killed Yafu, and it would have killed me, but I think I used the force to save myself."

Alida rested her elbows on her knees and leaned in. Tell me what happened next. Feel free to go as slow as you want, but I want you to give it to me in detail."

I told the creature to get back, and then it felt like, I don't know, all my panic rushed through me at once. When I opened my eyes, it was gone. I think I threw it through the precinct wall. That was the force, right?"

Alida looked thoughtfully at Naveen. "Yes, it sounds like you used the force to me." Naveen gave a sigh of relief. "Thanks", she said. "You don't know how hard it's been to carry around that moment not being able to explain what happened to myself." Naveen kept wringing her hands together. "I don't know how to control it, and I'm worried I might end up hurting someone. You said you knew Luke Skywalker. Would it be too much to ask him to help me?"

"It would be my pleasure to." Alida said with a smile. "I can't contact him while I'm on the job, but the moment I get off world, I'll send a message straight to him. If I play my cards right, I might be able to talk to him next week. He'll be able to give you more answers than myself."

Alida then stood up, prompting Naveen to do so as well. "I wish I could tell you more, Naveen, but it's not my place to recruit new Jedi. You have my word that I will talk to Luke about you though." Naveen beamed. It felt like a heavy weight had been taken off her shoulders. "Thank you Alida! Thank you so much!" She said, and leaned in to hug the surprised Jedi.

That had been a mistake. The moment Naveen had made contact with Alida, the world around her started to spin and go fuzzy. She heard Alida say, "Are you all right Naveen… Naveen?!" This was worse than any migraine Navee had gotten before. She felt herself falling, falling into darkness. A burning cold hand grabbed her by the neck and pulled her away from the Capitol building, through the wall and towards the breaking yards. She wasn't in Alida's room anymore, but some kind of derelict cold storage freezer. She was laid out in an old imperial stasis chamber, surrounded by rotting, fleshy things in clouded jars. Both the walls and ceiling were rusted and the floor groaned from under her. She heard a screeching and looked to her left. A human was cutting open the doors to the storage room. Wait. She had seen him before. It was the same man she had met at Wusha's Paradise before it burnt down. Jaeleno. That was his name.

"Hey! Help me!" She shouted, pounding on the glass of the stasis chamber. The man didn't hear her. She felt the burning hand on her neck again, and started to choke. Her pounding on the glass grew weaker. Then, something terrible whispered in her ear. It was a dead voice, like wind blowing through razor sharp peaks.

"Mennahg Dieg Mehhag. Ughull Allisch Angh Mehhag"

"Run swiftly with the light, for the darkness pursues with ravenous hunger"

…

"Come on Naveen!" Vivian shouted. She was forcefully pressing on the deputy's chest. Naveen had suddenly stopped breathing and had collapsed onto the floor. "Come on! You can't die. It's going to make me stay on this stupid planet longer! Vivian blew into Naveen's mouth and resumed pressing on her chest. The deputy suddenly gasped, and Vivian found herself tossed into the wall by an invisible shockwave. Vivian landed on her feet in a combat stance and slowly inched back towards Naveen. The deputy was breathing, but wasn't awake.

Vivian looked at the door and then back towards Naveen. She had the option to leave. Someone would come across Naveen eventually, and by that time Vivian would be long gone. However, the fact that the deputy wasn't waking up worried Vivan. What if she stopped breathing again and nobody was around to help her. "Dammit!" Vivian exclaimed. She opened the door to her suite and began calling for help.

Sobayaki Catering

(The night of Admiral Syndulla's retirement party - Chandrillain Capitol building)

Jaeleno and Abercrombie rode in a crystal elevator to the Capitol's uppermost patio. The Sobayaki Wine truck had already been unloaded and the capitol guards, at least those who had been identified as crooked by the Weequay pirates, had been bribed. All that was left was to keep up appearances. Both of them wore tuxedos. Jaeleno had even considered putting on a monocle, but had thought better of it at the last minute. The fancy bar that had actually been meant to cater the party had mysteriously closed down for renovations, and the capitol had to scramble for a new source of alcohol. As it so happened, the Sobayaki Farms had been willing to accept such a responsibility.

The elevator doors opened to a spacious, open roofed garden. It was still early in the evening, and though it should have been bitingly cold, a deflector shield kept the rooftop comfortably warm. Chairs were being set up and tables were still being laid out. The garden was roughly hemispherical, with a small stone fountain in the middle surrounded by a large, ivy covered dancing pavilion. Concentric floors went up around this central pavilion, housing tables, drink trays, and lavish observation platforms. In the background, standing over all of this was a giant statue of a gold clad woman holding a saber to the sky. It marked the very top of the capitol building.

Abercrombie whistled and pointed to the statue. "In case you're interested, that thing is called Spirit of The Rebellion. Building it almost caused an economic collapse five years ago. Luckily, the New Republic found money to pay for it in the end. Abercrombie's eyes darted to the folder Jaeleno carried. They had brought no less than 50 documents that would make even the most seasoned politicians uncomfortable. Mutsa Wusha had big dirt on a lot of powerful people, and it was up to Abercrombie and Jaeleno to capitalize on it.

The Bar was located on the same level with the fountain and dancing pavilion. Jaeleno looked up again and realized with some amusement that the bar was located underneath a fold in the billowing skirt of the statue. "Much obliged madam", Jaeleno said to the immoble golden figure as they passed underneath it.

A guard was waiting for them at the bar. "I'm gonna need to see some identification", He said. As they drew closer, it became apparent that he was of the weequay pirates Jaeleno had hired. "How did you even..?" Abercrombie didn't bother finishing the thought. He procured a liquor license he had forged for Jaeleno and himself the night prior, and handed it over to the 'guard'. "Umm Hmm, I see", said the weequay as he looked at the ID. Abercrombie hoped nobody would notice that the guard was currently reading the ID upside down. Luckily, the weequay was quick with his performance and handed back the ID. "Enjoy your night gentlemen", he said. Just for good measure, Jaeleno slipped a couple hundred more credits into the guard's hand as they passed.

The bar was already stocked with the wine Jaeleno and Abercrombie had replicated a couple nights prior. There were also two protocol droids already at the bar that had been programmed on how to properly pour and describe the Sobayaki Farm selection. However, Abercrombie had insisted that at least one of them remain at the Bar to keep up the appearance of a self respecting catering service. Jaeleno had reluctantly agreed. They would take shifts behind the bar while the other would wander around bartering off the documents.

They spent the next hour making sure everything looked convincing. Jaeleno had also purchased a hefty supply of other liquors if someone wanted a mixed drink. He'd leave making them to the protocol droids though. There was also the topic of price. Due to the New Republic's lackluster economy, catering services made a profit from individual purchases at capitol events rather than a single bulk payment. Abercrombie had spent a long time creating artificial prices that might represent a competitive, real, catering service. In actuality, finding the liquor for this stunt had hardly made a dent in their finances.

"Look alive", Jaeleno whispered to Abercrombie. The first couple party goers had arrived. It was a Twi'lek woman in an admiral's outfit with a small entourage of other military types. They were all dressed in their parade uniforms, and it didn't take a genius to guess who they were. "That's the New Republic brass right there", Jaeleno said. Abercrombie didn't really think he needed the clarification, but he let Jaeleno continue. "The one in the admiral's jacket is Syndulla. Hmm, the one next to her with the black hair and dower face is captain Antilles, blah blah blah, don't know those three, and the old geezer trailing behind them is general Dodonnah. Abercrombie and Jaeleno had agreed not to bother any in that group. As members of the New Republic's military, they were sort of removed from the corrupt underbelly of New Republic politics. Therefore, they'd be less likely to need the political ammunition Jaeleno had in his folder. Also, Jaeleno didn't think Admiral Syndulla would take kindly to information peddlers scampering around her retirement party. It would be better if she continued to believe they were here just to sell alcohol.

More people started to arrive. These were senators, dignitaries, and lobbyists. The kind of people who would exchange political favors for the information in a heartbeat. "That's our cue", said abercrombie. "Do you want to take the first shift or should I?" Jaeleno set the folder just underneath the bar. He then looked up at the crowd and began flipping through pages. "See the short sullustan over there", he said. "The one with the big eyes and droopy cheeks. That's Senator Numb. He's running for reelection next month." Jaeleno procured a sheet from the folder and handed it to Abercrombie. "Numb is pretty clean, but his opponent isn't. Give this to him and say that Sobyaki Farms supports his campaign. Don't ask for anything right away. Wait until he offers. All right, quickly! Before he finds someone in this crowd to talk to.

Abercrombie folded the piece of paper into his knapsack and scampered off into the crowd. Just in time too. The partygoers had started meandering towards the bar like a herd of livestock towards a feeding troth. Jaeleno gave a polished smile and tucked the folder further out of sight. The first person to show up at the bar was captain Antilles.

"Mr. Antilles I presume", Jaeleno said in his most professional demeanor. Antilles gave a professional nod and picked up a cocktail menu sitting on the counter. After a moment of reading he looked back up at Jaeleno. There was something in his expression that Jaeleno didn't like. "Sobayaki Winery (he had read it on the brand labels), Is this the first time you've catered at one of these events?"

"Yes, but not for a lack of trying", Jaeleno said. Antilles gave a thin smile which evaporated quickly and he went back to the cocktail menu. Jaeleno was starting to think Antilles wasn't much of a people person. The captain looked up again. "Sobayaki. I know that name."

"Ohh, you do?" Jaeleno asked, doing his best to disguise his nervousness "Where from?"

"I keep in touch with the aerospace museum a couple miles north of here. Someone named Jaeleno Sobyaki made a large donation towards the museum's Y-wing restorations. We would have lost several historically significant ships if he hadn't." Jaeleno chuckled.

"It really was no problem."

"You're him?"

"Jaeleno Sobayaki, at your service."

Captain Antilles reached across the bar and shook Jaeleno's hand. "Small galaxy isn't it?" Antilles said. "I've been trying to get those Y-wings restored for years, but it's impossible with a New Republic military salary. On top of that, nobody seems to want to donate, everyone except you it seems."

"Half a moment", Jaeleno said as he poured a drink for a random dignitary next to Antilles. "All right, continue."

"Like I was saying", Antilles continued. "We couldn't find enough money to save those ships, and it's not some insignificant collection either. A couple of the Y-wings your money saved saw action at both Death Stars, so you have my deepest thanks. Anyway, it looks like I'm holding up the line. I'll take a brand old fashioned and be on my way.

Jaeleno pretended to get started on the drink (which he actually had no clue on how to make), and whispered to one of the nearby protocol droids to take care of it. The droid slapped together an amalgamation of bitters, brandy, orange slices, and granulated sugar and handed back some gritty looking cocktail. Jaeleno hoped it was what Antilles ordered. Luckily, the captain seemed satisfied with it. Before Antilles got out the credits for the drink, Jaeleno stopped him. "I intend to rob the politicians blind with these prices", he said. "But you're not one of them. You don't need to pay for this."

"I appreciate the gesture", Antilles responded, "but I'm no less entitled to pay than anyone else here." He left the credits on the counter and walked off.

An hour passed, and Jaeleno was becoming properly winded from passing out drinks. He was also getting irritated with the clientele. They all seemed to make an effort to ask him what was in his wine and cocktails personally. There were cocktail menus on the counter for a reason! It was a welcome relief when he saw Abercrombie scampered back over.

"Well, how did it go?" Jaeleno asked.

"Senator Numb took the document and thanked me for my support, but he never made mention of a reward or political immunity or anything like that."

"Give it time. Ok, my turn I suppose."

Jaeleno scanned the crowd for a victim. He saw one sitting alone several rows up. "Target acquired", Jaeleno muttered to himself.

"Who is it?" Abercrimbie asked. Jaeleno briefly pointed to the woman he had in mind.

"You better be careful with her", Abercrombie said. "From what I've heard, she's deadly smart and has a pretty short fuse."

"Don't worry. I'll be charming", responded Jaeleno. "Good luck with the drinks".

Jaeleno paged through his folder and found the document he was looking for. He folded it into his pocket and walked towards the tables. The woman was seated at an empty table for two. She wore a relatively plain white dress and had her brown hair pulled back into a single bun. She was looking up at the twilight sky thoughtfully before she noticed Jaeleno approaching, and her eyes looked over him uneasily as if he might pull out a gun.

"Beautiful evening isn't it", Jaeleno said.

"It is.", The woman responded. "I thought there might be snow, but it looks like I was mistaken."

"Would you mind if I took a seat for a moment?"

"Sorry. I'm saving this table for my husband."

"Ah, if that's the case, I'll remain standing. Ma'am, I apologize for interrupting but are you Leia Organa?"

The woman shifted uncomfortably. "I thought you might have recognized me", she said, "What can I do for you?"

"First off, I'm Jaeleno, and It's a real pleasure meeting you. Umm, I'm providing the drinks at this event in case you're wondering."

"Well, your craft does not disappoint" Organna said, lifting up a small glass of wine in a polite gesture.

"Thank you, and out of respect for you and your husband I will make my intrusion as brief as possible. You see, in addition to wine craft, I collect and trade military memorabilia."

"Is that so?" Organna's tone was still pleasant, but Jaelneo could tell she didn't give a womp rat's behind. She would soon. "I believe you might be interested in one of my most recent finds." Jaeleno pulled the document from his pocket and unfolded it. He handed it over to the senator. "Now, to me, this looks like an automatically generated recording of a Rebel hyperspace transmission. I suspect it's a copy of the original document, but that's besides the fact. I thought you'd find it interesting. Organna looked over the document and it satisfied Jaeleno to see her turn just a little bit more pale. "Where did you find this?" she asked.

"A friend of mine willed it to me after she passed", Jaeleno said. "As for how she acquired it or why she had it collecting dust is beyond me. I thought the right thing would be to return it to you."

"I'm not fooled by that story, so let's cut the formalities. Are you attempting to blackmail me?"

"Of course not. I'm trying to get your attention is all. You see, I understand that you might have some connections left with the Hutt families, and I was wondering if you could put in a good word with them on my account." The weight of Organna's stare was almost painful as it bore into Jaeleno. "You killed one of the Hutts, didn't you?"

"What!" That took Jaeleno by surprise. "No…. I mean they might think I did, but I actually didn't."

"Whatever you say." Organna took a sip from her cup and folded up the document. "I won't be of any use to you. While you're correct that I have diplomatic connections in Hutt space, they don't like me any more than they would like you. "If you want any advice, find an office to run for. The Hutts can't disappear people of political significance, not easily anyway. Considering that you managed to climb all the way up here (gesturing to the capitol building), you should be able to find a position quick enough to save yourself." Organna handed the document back to Jaeleno. "You might as well hold on to this until you find a better use for it. Now, if you would excuse us, my husband is here.

"Behind you pal", said some raunchy looking dude as he pushed past Jaeleno and took a seat next to Organa. The moment had passed. "You two enjoy yourselves", Jaeleno said as he slinked away. Before he was fully out of earshot, he turned back to the table. "You know senator, I've always supported your policies. You're a good politician, and it shouldn't be marred by who your father was or what he did." It was only a little bit of a threat.

Jaeleno returned to the bar in a dark demeanor. Abercrombie was there, pouring out a bottle of wine by elevating it on his shoulder. When he was done dispensing the drink, he scampered back over to Jaeleno. "It didn't go as planned, did it?" Abercrombie said.

"It did not", Jaeleno sighed. "She didn't even take the bloody document".

"Yeah. That sounds like something Leia Organa would do… So, who are we going for next?"

A Retirement Party

The fact that Ghaghikh Lghghagh still had a job was nothing short of a miracle. He had heard Alida call for help, and the moment he arrived at her suite several floors below the chancellor's room, he almost had a heart attack. Deputy Naveen had been placed on a stretcher, her breathing barely perceptible even to Ghaghikh's heightened senses. Naveen had been sent to intensive care and had spent the last several days there with no changes in her condition. The doctors said she was stable, but only just.

At first, Ghaghikh was certain that Alida had caused Naveen's injuries, but the security footage from the room indicated that Alida had done nothing to harm Naveen. In fact, Alida had administered CPR to the unconscious deputy, and quite possibly saved her life. Alida had muttered some suspicious things about "having to stay on this stupid planet longer", but it was hardly enough to arrest someone for.

Nonetheless, Ghaghikh attempted to catch Alida lying. He grilled her for hours with questions regarding the circumstance of Naveen's visit. Not once did he catch her lying. In fact, Alida seemed just as confused and frustrated with circumstances as Ghaghikh did himself. That wasn't the end of things. Both the chancellor and senator Organa gave Ghaghikh a tongue lashing, Organna going as far to call him as useful as a blind nerf herder. He had offered up his resignation again, but the chancellor refused him. "I am going to give you one last chance, captain", she said. "I want you present at Admiral Syndulla's party, not with any sort of authority, but I want you there nonetheless. I just need you to keep an eye on Alida and a nose to the air. Your performance at the party will determine whether or not you'll keep your badge for the foreseeable future."

So here he was. Dressed in his best civilian attire, lurking amongst a bunch of blissfully unaware politicians. Ghaghikh's pupils were razor slits, and his tongue was constantly fethering in and out of his mouth. Not only did his career depend on doing things right this time, so did his honor. His reputation had been tarnished so terribly this month, that he couldn't bear for it to fall further. Nothing out of ordinary would happen tonight without his explicit permission.

Ghaghikh had an eye constantly watching Alida, and he was ready to pounce on her at all moments. Unfortunately, she wasn't doing anything suspicious. She was just drinking, chatting, and acting normal. Ghaghikh hated that. The only thing more infuriating than the fact that he couldn't trust her was the fact that he couldn't prove anything yet.

For a split second, his eyes flicked to the Chancellor. She was talking with Senator Organa and her husband, a trio of egghead honor guards stood at attention around them. He hissed quietly to himself as he surveyed the outer walls of the rooftop garden. His eyes came to rest on the golden statue that loomed in the background. A sniper could be hidden underneath its golden skirt or in any of the numerous flower bushes that stretched here and there. Ghaghikh blinked and felt the heat sensing glands underneath his nose wake up. He looked back over the bushes, walls, and statue. All of them were cold, no signs of body heat.

Still the stress of everything was driving him to the brink of ferality. His heart was racing, venom was filling his fangs, his tongue was lashing in and out of his mouth like a jackhammer. Something was going to go wrong, he knew it would, and he would be there to stop it. Then, he caught the taste of something in the air. He recognized it. The scent of manure, foliage, and high grade chemicals. Scorekeeper's talons! There were drug dealers amongst the crowd, he was sure of it. The same two wretches whose scent was everywhere in Mothmatown. The same scent he had caught trace amounts of in the breaking yards and ruins of Wusha's paradise.

Ghaghikh eyes flicked over to Alida. He was certain she was watching him as well. The moment he'd take his eyes off her, she'd make a move. Very well. He'd play this game. Ghaghikh began slowly weaving through the crowd, following the scent as he kept an eye on Alida. He wasn't going to lose his prey this time.

…

Vivian was done with this planet. The only reason she hadn't bailed already was because Captain Ghaghikh Lghghahg had started watching her. The most offensive part about it was that he wasn't being subtle. For the last couple days, she could hear his reptilian breathing somewhere close by and barely out of sight. "God damn it, Naveen", Vivian cursed. Saving the deputy had guaranteed her access to the party, but she knew well enough that she wasn't trusted in the slightest. The chancellor didn't trust her, Senator Organa didn't trust her, Ghaghikh sure as hell didn't trust her.

Therefore, there was nothing left for her to do, but wait and blend in. If she attempted any further intelligence gathering, she would be caught. If she tried to escape, she would be caught. If she so much as put her hand in her cloak pocket too quickly, Ghaghikh would probably pounce her. "To Hell with it", Vivian thought to herself. "This is a party isn't it? I might as well have some fun."

She walked over to the bar and decided to try whatever expensive garbage the political elite around her were having. There was a long line full of pretentious twats who stood around giggling about their barely functional trade routes and planetary defense forces. Vivian didn't bother concealing her irritation. Chandrilla was a joke. Sure it had tight security in certain easily avoidable places, but it was otherwise laughably weak. Vivian had broken into two of the most highly guarded locations on the planet within a single month. She literally walked into the capitol precinct with some face paint, deodorizer, and a rudimentary implant and simply let the mistakes of others carry her to her goal. Incompetence, confusion, and overarching lack of cohesion in the New Republic government had allowed her to run rampant across the planet. How had the Rebellion devolved into this?

Vivan looked back at the Chancellor, at the senators and the New Republic brass. It made her want to spit. Maximilian had been right. There was no chance in the universe that this collection of dreamers, card players, and glorified stunt pilots could have taken Ryloth from the Loyalists. Sure, the Rebellion had blown up both Death Stars, but two particularly lucky battles against incompetent Loyalist admirals did not seem to translate well to successful governing. If Chandrilla was any indicator, the people who benefitted the most from Rebel rule were criminals and their beneficiaries. Vivian was glad Ryloth didn't share the same fate.

Vivan had finally gotten up to the bar, and she hadn't bothered wiping the scowl from her face. She picked up the cocktail menu and absentmindedly paged through the overpriced drinks. Her finger paused on one brand name. "Sobayaki Winery" she knew that name.

"Having a rough night?" An electronic voice asked her. She looked up and her heart skipped a beat. Polishing a glass not much smaller than himself was Abercrombie.

"Yeah, It's been a rough month." She said, "I don't care what you give me. Just make sure it's strong."

…

"Oh no", Abercrombie thought to himself. He almost dropped the glass in his hands as he stared at the woman in front of him. He had seen her walking through the crowd and had wondered why she looked so familiar. Now he knew. Abercrombie turned off his translator and let out a quiet string of curses. He then activated it again, making sure it was set on the most quiet setting.

"I thought you were supposed to be gone by now."

"Me too. Unfortunately things change."

"Yes they do... For what it's worth, you look good in green."

Vivian gave Abercrombie her best 'be careful' glare. "Too good it seems. I've picked up an admirer", she said.

"You're not talking about Jaeleno are you?"

"Are you serious? No. Look at my five o'clock.

Abercrombie leaned down to pick up another glass. As he came back up, his eyes surveyed the crowd. There, standing like a rabid guard dog in a political junk yard was captain Ghaghikh Lghghahg. Well, that was scary. Abercrombie and Jaeleno had put on cologne, but not to such a ludicrous degree as was necessary to dodge the nose of the precinct captain. Jaeleno and Abercrombie had been ahead of that old lizard for so long that they had sort of forgotten he was still looking for them. "Shit." Abercrombie said.

"Pour me a drink and make this look more natural." Vivian said quietly. "He's going to take notice otherwise." Abercrombie took that advice to heart and made a show of grabbing an expensive red wine from the stand behind him. It was the last of their fall blend. The rest had been completely drained. Abercrombie filled Vivian's glass and recorked the bottle. "Why the hell not", he said and poured a shot glass full for himself.

"So I assume you're here on your own business?" Abercrombie said, taking a sip of wine.

Vivian nodded. "I'm leaving soon. I just had some things to take care of."

"And have those things been taken care of?" Abercrmbie flicked his eyes to Ghaghikh.

"Soon they will be."

"I might regret saying this, but I'm wondering if I can interest you in another little business arrangement."

Vivian chuckled. "Abercrombie, it's unlike you to offer business proposals. I thought that was Jaeleno's stock and trade?"
"If it is then he needs to reinvest. Listen, we're in some trouble. How are… your friends' relations with the Hutts?

"That depends on what you mean by relations." Vivian paused to take a drink. The hutts are scared stiff of my friends if that's what you were looking for."

"Ok, that's good enough. Jaeleno and I happen to be in the market for some sort of hutt repellant."

Vivian looked down at her drink thoughtfully and took another long swig. She leaned in closer and Abercrombie refilled her glass. "Wusha's Paradise?" She asked.

"We were forced into a corner", Abercrombie said. "But the hutts won't see it that way."

"No, no they won't… The only suggestion I can give is for you to move out of New Republic space. Try Ryloth. We could always use more farmers, and the cartels don't have a presence there anymore."

"I was hoping we could find an option where we don't have to leave Chandrila. Jaeleno has some attachments to this place."

Vivian shrugged. "I don't know what to say. I'm fond of you and Jaeleno, but you're just not that significant in the grand scheme of things. My friends won't help you if you're not worth the effort.``

Abercrombie began making a peculiar chirping sound. It took Vivian a moment to realize it was laughter.

"You should go talk to Jaeleno about our significance", he said. "Things change after all. Now, you might want to get going. You're holding up the line."

…

Jaeleno was not enjoying himself. He was supposed to be getting somewhere by now, but every senator, dignitary, or person of even remote political value had either turned him down or taken their documents without so much as a hint of gratitude. It was exhausting. Jaeleno put a hand in his pocket. The document Senator Organa had returned to him was still folded up there. "Why hadn't she accepted it?" The information that document contained could have ruined her political career, surely she knew this.

"You might as well hold onto this until you find a better use for it." That was what she told him. It made absolutely no sense. Any self preserving politician would have taken it. Had the senator simply been too stubborn to accept a bribe? Jaeleno crumpled the document in his hand. What was he doing here?

Cheering interrupted Jaeleno's thoughts. A slightly larger crowd was forming on the south side of the garden. With few notable senators left to pester, Jaeleno thought he might as well give it a look. He nudged his way as far as he could into the crowd and asked a random person what all the fuss was about.

"Eric Johnson has arrived", the person said excitedly. That was enough to get Jaeleno's attention. He hadn't even known that the rock singer was attending. Jaeleno's disappointment faded as he edged around the crowd to get a better look. A sound stage had been set up along the garden wall. There, three burly human musicians were in the process of setting up their instruments (an electric guitar, a drum set, and a two stringed tovshurr). Then, Eric Johnson walked on stage.

There was a hearty round of applause and a couple cheers. Jaeleno noted that Admiral Syndulla's voice was amongst them. Eric Johnson was a massive human, both obese and vastly muscular. "What a privilege to be here!" He exclaimed in his deep melodious voice. Eric Johnson took a deep bow, where he came face to face with Jaeleno (who had practically crawled through the crowd to the base of the stage). "Can I get an autograph?" Jaeleno asked, holding up a pen he had swiped from somewhere in the crowd and the document concerning Senator Organa.

"Be'd my pleasure!" Eric Johnson said, picking up the document and the paper. He flipped the document over to its blank side and scribbled out his name. "Here's you are!" He said as he returned the document. For Jaeleno, the night had suddenly gone from mildly disappointing to worth it as he admired the signature that bled into the other side of the document. He had found a use for it after all.

After an appropriately long time admiring the signature, Jaeleno refolded the document and put it in his pocket. To his surprise, a green Twi'lek woman had been right in front of him. At first, Jaeleno thought it was Admiral Syndulla, but no, this one looked younger. He felt like he knew her from somewhere.

"How are you doing Jaeleno?" Vivian asked with a broad smile.

"Stars Above! I thought…how are? … You cannot believe how glad I am to see you right now Vivian!"

"Call me Alida." Vivian said in a hushed tone.

"Alida? Yeah, I can do that. Guess I shouldn't be surprised you stuck around after all."

"You know me. I couldn't miss an event this big."

"Oh. Is that all of it? You're not here to catch up with one of your business associates."

Vivian laughed. "If my plan was to catch up with you, I would have searched all the gutters of Mothmatown, then your farm before coming here."

"It sounds like your opinion of me has risen considerably since the last time we met."

"Ha! You could say that. Listen, I talked with Abercrombie a little while ago. He says you're having hutt problems."

"Abercrombie told you? It's unlike him to take the initiative like that. A little misunderstanding happened between us and Mutsa Wusha. One thing lead to another, and, yeah, we might have a problem with the hutt family real soon. Are you offering a solution?"

"That depends on how valuable you can make yourself to my friends. Abercrombie was implying you might have something for me."

"I suppose I do", Jaeleno said as he handed over the document.

Vivian took a minute or two to read the document. "Jaeleno, if this is real, we will happily take it, but If you want us to send a threat to the hutts, we're going to need more."

"That can be arranged. Out of curiosity? Do you need to be anywhere tonight?"

"Far away from this damned Capital building would be nice."

"That can be arranged. We can discuss business after we put some distance between us and…."

A tall, scaled figure was now behind Vivian. Its lips were parted in a razor sharp smile and its tongue feathered in and out of its mouth as it hissed. "Mr. Sobayaki", it said. "I don't think we ever had the chance to be formally introduced. We've encountered each other before though. After all, your scent is so incredibly unique that I couldn't miss it. How rude that you never stuck around long enough for me to get your name. But for once, it looks like I've caught you unaware. So, let me introduce myself. I am Ghaghikh Lghagh of the Capitol precinct, and you, Jaeleno Sobyaki, are under arrest on charges of drug peddling, arson, and murder."

"You have the wrong guy", Jaelno said.

…

Vivian slowly turned around. She didn't want to spark any of Ghaghikh's predator reactions with quick movement. "Captain, this is a misunderstanding", she said. "Mr. Sobyaki has been helping me survey Chandrilla's criminal underworld. Just because he is versed in such things does not make him…"

"He called you Vivian. I assume that is a part of your full name, Vivian Veronica?"

"No, you didn't hear him say that. This is a large crowd. It's easy to mistake what's being said."

"Mistake? The only mistake I've been making is trusting the wrong people. I may be older and slower than I was in my youth, but I'm still fast enough to catch you two if you try to run. You'd be the ones making a mistake continuing to test me. Do you have any idea how much damage you have done to this city, to my reputation?! It would be my pleasure running you down."

"And how many credits would your reputation be worth to you?" Jaeleno asked. Ghaghikh snarled at him, venom was pooling in his lips. "Do Not Test Me", he hissed.

Vivan walked closer to Ghaghikh and put on her best indignant tone. "Once master Skywalker gets word of this, he is going to be very displeased." Ghaghikh leaned in closer. "Even if you were his padawan, and I know you're not, Skywalker isn't here. Now, you two are going to accompany me to the precinct. I'll have further questions for you there."

…

Abercrombie was tired of pouring drinks. It was hard work handling the massive bottles of wine or running to and fro getting the ingredients for cocktails. Where the hell was Jaeleno? Abercrombie looked over to the south side of the garden. A stage had been set up there with four burly performers. Abercrombie squinted. Not just any performers. That was Eric Johnson. Jaeleno was probably soliciting the rock singer for an autograph. Abercrombie shook his head and grumbled. That might be the only thing they got out of this party. He jumped down to grab a couple more cherries from the underbar refrigerator. When he jumped back up he noticed something. Ghaghikh had moved. Abercrombie had been keeping an eye on the captain, and suddenly not seeing him was concerning.

Abercrombie did a quick 360* survey of his surroundings. He half expected Ghaghikh to jump out at him from the skirt of the statue, but no such thing happened. Where had that old lizard gone? He continued searching the crowd, and began to feel a pit form in his stomach. Where were Jaeleno and Vivian? They had to be somewhere….. "Oh NO", Abercrombie gasped.

Ghaghikh had trapped Jaeleno and Vivian against the Eric Johnson crowd. Abercrombie could see both of them working their mouths, but Ghaghikh was having none of it. Damn it! Why hadn't they packed more deodorizer? Abercrombie nervously rubbed his hands together. Jaeleno and Vivian might be able to take on the officer, but it would still expose them. What about the pirates? Abercrombie could still see a couple pretending to be guards.

No, Abercrombie didn't trust them. He could even see a couple of the guards watching the event play out, smirking and exchanging bets. It looked like it was up to him. Abercrombie grabbed two napkins from the bar and stuffed them in his ears. He then took off his translator and fiddled with the volume setting. He chanced a glance back at the crowd. Ghaghikh was getting more agitated. He would have to work faster. "Please don't blow up, please don't blow up, please don't blow up", Abercrombie prayed as he activated the translator.

An ungodly screech played out across the garden, and every single admiral, general, senator, dignitary, freeloader, spy, pirate, and drug dealer turned their head to look at Abercrombie. "My apologies ladies and gentlemen", abercrombie boomed through the translator, "I wanted to get your attention. You see, tonight we celebrate not just the sunset on a particularly successful military career, but also the heroism, the great deeds, the strength of mind and body that allowed us all to be here celebrating tonight. Admiral Syndulla, you have my utmost thanks for doing more than anyone could think possible in helping make this New Republic a reality."

There was thunderous applause and Abercrombie let it play out. He still needed this to appear somewhat normal if he was to trigger the response he wanted. "I would also like to thank Captain Antilles and General Dodonna." There was another round of thunderous applause. Abercrombie was glad Yafu had taught him those names. This stunt might not have worked otherwise. "Lastly, I would like to thank the unsung heroes of the Rebellion. One of whom was Yafu Malik, a very close friend of mine. Yafu was a Y-wing pilot for Gold Squadron, and he was one of the dauntless few who stood up to the Empire and the first Death Star at the battle of Yavin IV. Unfortunately, for me and the New Republic, he has recently passed away. I'm sure he would have been proud of us, and how we continue to carry the New Republic to a better future.

There were more cheers but they weren't as loud as last time. Abercrombie was losing the audience. He'd have to finish this quickly. "Yafu Malik was many things. He was intelligent, he was kind, and he was utterly devoted to the spirit of the Rebellion. He also was a big fan of alcohol, for the artismal aspects of it of course." A couple people in the crowd laughed. Abercrombie hoped this would work. "To Honor Yafu Malik tonight, and all the Rebel heroes who history might forget, everything at this bar will be completely free for the next twenty minutes. Now who wants to pay their respects?!"

Run

"That's my boy!" Jaeleno thought to himself as Abercrombie concluded his little speech. The effects were immediate. The vast majority of partygoers were already pushing past each other to get to the bar. Vivian had caught on immediately. The moment the crowd started to surge, she gave a powerful kick to Ghaghikh's left ankle, breaking it thoroughly and sending the captain tumbling to the floor. The oblivious crowd began trampling him in their desperation for cheap liquor.

Disguised in this tide, Vivian and Jaeleno began making their way to the elevator on the North side of the garden. They avoided the bar entirely by looping around the perimeter of the garden. Their sprinting caught some wary eyes from the senators, but nobody bothered to follow them. Jaeleno heard the iconic first drum notes of Eric Johnson's cover of Suugaan Essena and looked back wistfully. If only this all could have played out a couple minutes later. At any rate, the attention garnered by Eric Johnson's performance also seemed to take attention away from them. For that, Jaeleno was thankful.

They approached the north side elevator where Abercrombie was waiting for them with the document folder, along with Captain Onaka and some of his men. "You are leaving so soon Jaeleno?" Asked the pirate. "Jaeleno reached into his pocket and pulled out a small purse. He tossed it to Onaka, who caught the purse and opened it with relish. "HAHa! I did not know you were paying me in Keiber!" Onaka exclaimed, biting one of the crystals (which promptly gave him an electrical shock). "Is this the end of our dealings then?"

"Not quite." Jaeleno said as pressed the elevator call button. "There's an angry lizard after us. I'll leave a couple more Keiber crystals underneath your camper if you can stall him. Also your welcome to any wine that's left. I'm not coming back for it."

Onaka gave an impromptu salute. "Consider it done, Mr. Sobayaki."

The elevator finally arrived and Jaeleno thanked the force. He scrambled inside with Vivian and Abercrombie, and hammered the ground level button. The elevator doors closed the moment Ghaghikh Lghahg emerged from the crowd. His foot was still bent at an odd angle and his forehead was bleeding from being trampled, but didn't appear to notice.

…

"Won't let them Escape. Won't let them Escape. Won't let them Escape." That was the only higher level thought in Ghaghikh's mind at the moment. Everything else had devolved to pure adrenaline fueled instinct. His prey were already in the elevator. He had to get to them before it descended too far. "Stop the elevator", he shouted at the guards. "This situation is under control", said one of the guards. "Please return to your merrimaking."

Ghaghikh roared and charged. One of the guards tried to stop him, but Ghaghikh grabbed him by the waist and threw him into a wall. The other two tried tackling him. Ghaghikh swatted them to the floor like annoying bugs. The last guard shrugged and walked past Ghaghikh towards the bar. The elevator carrying his prey had already descended twelve feet into the open chasm of the Capitol building's interior. Ghaghikh didn't care. He jumped off the ledge and plummeted towards the floating elevator.

Ghaghikh enjoyed seeing the terrified eyes of his prey as he careened towards the transparent elevator. He struck the top, and the elevator wobbled. The roof cracked under the impact, along with his forearms. It didn't matter. His bones would mend themselves eventually. All that mattered was catching his prey. He dug his claws into the fissures along the elevator's roof and heaved. A splinter of crystal came loose and he tossed it away. He'd just need to pry a little more loose and then he'd be in.

…

"Do either of you have weapons?" Vivian asked. Jaeleno shook his head and Abercrombie desperately rummaged in his knapsack. He laughed nervously to himself and pulled out a half melted Fluff Egg. "I forgot to take it out before we arrived", he said. "Thank goodness they didn't search me that well!" Vivan grinned. It was more likely the Capitol security were used to Fluff eggs being sent up to the Senators. "Thank goodness indeed", she said, taking the fluff egg from Abercrombie and rolling it into a thin cylinder. She watched Ghaghikh pry open more of the elevator. It was amazing (and terrifying) how he had lost all form of control. He was more animal than sentient being now. That would give Vivan an opening, but just a small one. If she mistimed this…. She didn't want to think about it.

Get ready to restrain Ghaghikh . She told Jaeleno even though it was hopeful thinking that he could do anything. Abercrombie nodded as well. Ghaghikh widened the hole in the elevator further and, with a roar, jumped inside. Vivian extended her forearm, and the tractor beam she had inserted into her palm pulled Ghaghikh off balance. He fell to the floor and both Jaeleno and Abercrombie jumped on him. It was an awfully brave move for two civilians. Vivian knew they wouldn't be able to keep Ghaghikh pinned there. They just had to slow him down.

…

"What the hell am I doing!" Abercrombie found himself saying out loud. He was next to Jaeleno, trying to keep one of Ghaghikh's arms pinned down. He felt like he was back on the wire with the Gooberfish. Ghaghikh's flailing was sending Abercrombie up and down, and he was barely keeping a grip on the Captian's arm. Jaeleno wasn't faring much better. He was on Ghaghikh's back, but had no idea how to properly restrain him. The captain's legs were kicking and his fanged jaws were snapping at the air. It was a damn miracle none of them had been bitten or cut yet.

Ghaghikh had gone full Komodo. He was drooling venom infused saliva and making loud animalistic screeches. If he wasn't so old, he would have killed them already, although Abercrombie also wagered Vivian had played a major part in keeping them alive. He watched her vault over Jaeleno and place a hand over Ghaghikh's snout. She then took the cylinder of melted Fluff egg and rammed it into one of Ghaghikh's nostrils. For good measure, she punched Ghaghikh's nostril which caused him to snort and cough.

…

Jaeleno wished the elevator would go faster. He was losing grip on the feral lizard man. The fact that Abercrombie kept saying, "Careful, he's venomous", did not help. What did help was Vivian's quick wit, and the old Fluff egg in Abercrombie's knapsack. The captain was still fighting, but he was getting slower and less focused.

"I think we might pull this off!" Jaeleno said just as Ghaghikh elbowed him in the sternum, forcing Jaeleno to roll off and gasp for breath. Vivian tried to go for Ghaghikh's ankle again, but he sidestepped and caught her by the throat, primal rage and bliss oil making his pupils dilate and contract randomly. Jaeleno wasn't having it. Even though he couldn't breath, he shot out his leg in a desperate kick. It caught Ghaghikh between the legs and the transdocian howled.

In his pain, Ghaghikh didn't notice Abercrombie crawl up his arm onto his shoulder. Jaeleno's watched his little associate slam his translator into the lizzard's ear. An ungodly screeching emitted from the translator before abercrombie screamed, "YOU! Everyone's ears were left ringing after that, but it had an especially profound effect on Ghaghikh. He swiped at his own ears, tossing away Abercrombie's translator (which Abercrombie caught) and bloodying himself. Orange blood ran down the sides of Ghaghikh's head and yet he kept clawing. He shook his head, hissed and spat. Jaeleno almost felt sorry for him as he rolled out of the way of Ghaghikh's random flailing. "You have reached parking level 15", the elevator chimed. The Sobayaki crew tiptoed around Ghaghikh and ran out into the parking garage.

…

Ghaghikh cowered in the elevator. Even though he had clawed his eardrums into oblivion, he could still hear the roaring. "RWWWRGG" Outside, hundreds of thousands of wookies emerged from their vehicles. Some were tiny, some were massive, some were animated, some were visceral with gore. Ghaghikh pushed himself further into the corner of the elevator and hissed. It was the pathetic kind of hiss that a transdocian gave when defeated. Ghaghikh gave it over and over again, but still the wookies approached, each one pulling out a lightsaber from their matted coats. Ghaghikh pressed the close door function on the elevator over and over again, but the wookies held it open and began stalking inside.

Hours later, when the elevator was recalled to the rooftop garden to extract the partygoers, Ghaghikh was found there, still howling.

…

Vivian had never been in a vehicle (conscious) while Jaeleno was behind the wheel. It was certainly a new experience. He weaved through the night time traffic like a madman. If Vivian still had a serviceable alibi, she would have asked Jaeleno to slow down, but she ultimately shared his desire to get the hell out of the capital city. Vivian fished out a small plastic key chain from her cloak, and pressed the alarm button on it free times. A reassuring "PHOOM" sounded in the distance. Her hologram transmitter and direct link with Maximilian had just exploded, along with everything else incriminating she had in her hotel room. The blast wouldn't be powerful enough to immediately harm the people in the other rooms, but it certainly would be powerful enough to draw the attention of both the police and fire department. On top of tying up her last couple loose ends, it would hopefully take attention away from Jaeleno's driving. Besides, she had another transmitter that she had left buried on Jaeleno's land. It was now a matter of when, not if she was going home.

The Unyielding Present

(The Great Shipbuilding Rings of Kuat, - Present)

Admiral Maximilian De La Chateau stood in a dockyard observation tower with a data slate in his hand. In front of him, past the several feet of transparisteel keeping out the void, Was Kuat and her rings. The sight never ceased to amaze Maximilian. The steel rings stretched 30 thousands miles around Kuat's equator. Every means of vessel was being built, refitted, or scrapped upon them. As far as Maximilian was concerned, it was the industrial heart of the galaxy.

An update flipped into existence from the data pad. The Devastation would be ready to launch within the hour. Maximilian stared fondly at his warship. It was moored on the interior ring only ten miles from the observation tower, receiving hull patches and rearming. As a fleet Admiral, Maximilian had the authority to transfer to a different flagship, but he never had. Even when given the opportunity to set up in a newly constructed Bellator class super star destroyer. He had refused. The Devastation may have been an aging ship, but it was his. Maximilian intended to reside in it until his career expired.

Speaking of aging ships, the rings had received a new tenant within the last couple years. Moored directly across from the Devastation, and monitored by several dozen of the ring's heavy turbo laser towers was a Rebel… New Republic warship. It was massive, comparable in length and width to the Devastation, but close to double its height and quadruple its weight. The vessel was a Star Hawk battleship, and it was likely the most powerful class of warship the rebellion had ever constructed. Maximilian despised it.

The Star Hawk was a frankenstein ship made out of star destroyer corpses and parts from scuttled space stations. The entire thing looked like a giant, poorly maintained nautical anchor, and its bridge, situated on top of a gargantuan tractor beam emitter, gave it the face of a giant basking fish. Its looks didn't fool anybody though. The Star Hawk had been instrumental in securing the New Republic's current borders from the loyalists, and whenever one appeared in a fleet battle, it was a near guarantee that attrition rates would increase dramatically. It was one of the reasons why The Empire of the Hand didn't just invade the New Republic, not when diplomacy was on the table.

Maximilian grunted as he stared at the hideous vessel. In a one on one battle, it could certainly take out the Devastation, and probably a significant number of other capital ships that were being serviced at Kuat. It was, for all intensive purposes, a super weapon. However, it was no match for the supreme weapon now fielded by the Empire of the Hand, a good economy.

The New Republic quite literally did not have the money to refuel and maintain that behemoth, or many of their other large capital ships for that matter. Therefore, a trade agreement had been settled. New republic warships would be allowed to refuel and rearm at Kuat if they paid for themselves with food. Despite Kuat being the industrial heart of the galaxy, it was hardly a bread basket. Unfortunately, that was a duty the New Republic excelled at.

"If looks could kill, I'm sure the Albemarle would be a burning wreck right now", said an annoying, chipper voice off to Maximilian's right. The person that voice belonged to lounged in one of the observation tower's padded seats. He was tall and lanky with black hair and a pristine orange and white captain's jacket over his relatively unceremonious flight suit. His name was Charlie Lindra and was the captain of the monstrosity that was currently the subject of Maximilian's intense scrutiny.

This was one of Maximilian's less enjoyable duties. The observation tower held command staff from both imperial and New Republic vessels. Maximilian thought of it as a mutual hostage taking to make sure nobody started firing on each other across the ring. Since the New Republic had been supplying Kuat with food for years now, Maximilian had been forced to endure captain Charlie Lindra's insufferable optimism countless times.

Maximilian sometimes wondered if Charlie was a standard representation of New Republic commanders. Happy go lucky, sociable, energetic, and quite possibly insane. He imagined Charlie making quips and frolicking across the bridge of the Albemarle while ripping super star destroyers in half with his ship's tractor beam. It was an uncomfortable thought.

"Captain Lindra, with the way rust is spreading between the grafts in your ship's hull, I wouldn't be surprised if a particularly stern gaze did kill your ship", Maximilian said without turning to Charlie. It was supposed to be cutting, but the captain laughed it off. "Rust builds character! We also got you guys to repair it. After all, you pseudo imperials do want to earn your vittles, right?"

That irritated Maximilian enough to lower himself to talk to Charlie face to face. "The Empire of the Hand is not some pet doing tricks for food. We have chosen to work with you, not for you. The sooner you realize this, the better. Charlie kept a grin on his face, but his eyes grew darker and more serious. "Oh, I'm aware, admiral. By my count, there are currently 24 heavy turbo lasers trained on my ship, along with the three heavy ion cannons mounted on your Devastation over there. Considering the fact that I have to keep the Albemarle's shields deactivated per treaty regulations, I'd assume you'd render my ship a useless hulk within four minutes. How's my math there?"

Maximilian didn't say anything. The Devastation's onboard computer simulators had predicted the Albemarle would fall in six and a half minutes under the same circumstances. The New Republic captain was selling himself short, probably on purpose as well. Charlie stretched and got up. He joined Maximilian at the window. "What I'm trying to get across", he said, "Is that nobody in the New Republic wants another war. What you see down there. It's called diplomacy. As much as we pretend to still hate each other, both our governments need to cooperate to survive. It's actually amazing how similar we are. I mean, we basically are both rebels, aren't we?"

"No", Maximilian responded instantly. "Do not call me a Rebel. The Empire of the Hand rose during a short, professional military coup. The Rebellion was little more than a loose alliance of terrorists and thieves bound together by greed and desperation. The only reason the New Republic exists is because of Palpatine's incompetence."

That actually seemed to hurt Charlie's feelings and Maximilian had to glance away to conceal his amusement.

"So we're playing like that today?" Charlie asked, his voice containing a little less merriment than usual. "Because the way I see it, the Rebellion fought Palpatine for 30 long and bloody years. I openly admit that we were forced to do some pretty nasty things to keep going, but I think we can both agree that Palpatine was worse." Maximilian didn't respond, and Charlie took the silence as an agreement. "Besides", he said, "The Empire of the Hand only joined the fight after the Rebel Alliance had done all the heavy lifting."

Maximilian had heard enough. He needed to get out of there before he did something undiplomatic to captain Lindra. Luckily, he wasn't above pulling rank in such circumstances. Maximilian scrolled through a list of available imperial captains and found Balao was comparably unoccupied, surely she wouldn't mind captain Lindra's energetic company.

Maximilian made his way towards the tower's lift. "If you'll excuse me", he said, "I have places to be."

"On your way to invade the New Republic?" Charlie asked jokingly. Maximilian smirked. "If The Empire of the Hand was invading the New Republic, command would fall to someone well below my station."

…

The airlock to the Devastation's dorsal casemate hissed as Maximilian entered from one of the many exterior boarding tunnels. The intelligence department and Maximilian's office wouldn't be a far walk from here. Fia Brookwater, the ship's communication officer quickly filed in behind him. "Sir, you have updates from Chandrilla waiting in your quarters." Maximilian nodded. "Very good. What else?"

"Water and food storage have been topped off, fuel is sitting at 97%, all weapons and shields are in the green."

"Well then it looks like we are good to go. Tell the captain our heading is Coruscant. It's our turn to relieve the security fleet there." The officer gave a quick salute and relayed the command. Maximilian walked up to a porthole and watched the Devastation release from her moorings. Three light cruisers were similarly released and pulled in behind as an escort. One by one, the vessels passed by the rebel behemoth still moored to the ring. Despite Maximilian's disdain for that ship, and the New Republic, he had no desire to fight ethier.

…

Maximilian checked his watch as he looked over the waterfall of updates at his desk. Most of them were minor border disputes or supply issues, stuff that could be saved for later. Maximilian's main concern was an urgent message he had gotten from Vivian. She had used up the last of her cover, but had succeeded in eliminating the hard evidence linking her back to the Empire of the Hand. She had also secured some documents that might be of marginal use as political leverage over the New Republic, and had set up about a dozen spy droids in the New Republic Capitol building. Once she was back onboard the Devastation, Maximilian would have access to both. However, the truly important part of all of this was that she was safe.

At times, Maximilian had wondered if he had given her too hard a mission. He always tried to steer her away from the truly dangerous ops, but it couldn't be avoided entirely. The Chandrilla job looked like the safest option when Maximilian had selected it. Now, reading over Vivian's extensive reports, Maximilian began to suspect the opposite had been true. She deserved R and R after this. Lots of it. Maximilian just had to make sure he found another task for her before high command assigned her something truly dangerous to do. They had gotten close in the past, but never close enough.

Besides, Maximilian always tried to steer Vivian in a direction where she might find her sister, even if it was just the knowledge of what happened to her. That had partially been the case with Chandrilla. Maximilian had half expected Vivian's sister to be living somewhere near the capitol. Despite its many other flaws, a benefit of the New Republic was that it had no tolerance for slavery (slavery that they could identify anyway). If Vivian's sister had found herself in New Republic space, there was a good chance she was now a free woman. This was one of the reasons Vivian didn't use a full alibi as often as her contemporaries in the Empire of the Hand's spy network. There was always a hope that her sister would recognize her. Considering the amount of damage Vivian had left in her wake during this mission, and the fact that her name had been leaked, there was a very high chance that her sister would take notice if she was indeed on Chandrila.

Maximilian swiped the page of Vivian's report. She had encountered two Chandrillan civilians who might be of further use as long term informants. They were farmers and wine entrepreneurs named Jaeleno Sobyaki and James P. Abercrombie. Vivian had stressed that those two would become particularly trustworthy assets if the Empire of the Hand simply "cleared up" some misunderstandings they had with the Hutts.

Perhaps it was worth it. Vivian didn't trust people easily, and one could never have too many sources of information in the capital of one's enemy. Maximilian made a note of those two in his personal records. He then checked his watch. The Devastation would be passing Chandrila soon on its way to Courescont. It was about time he got to the hangar.

…

The Key difference between Palpatine's regime and the Empire of the Hand was that those in the Hand were capable of learning. Maximilian thought this as the reverse engineered Scimitar was hoisted onto the Devastation's hangar floor by two overhead cranes. It had been redesigned a little, featuring a larger, more rectangular body and better troop carrying capacity, but it was otherwise a copy of the vessel Maximilian had fought over Ryloth almost a decade ago. A small squad of death troopers were already boarding just in case they had to hold a perimeter when the ship landed. There was also a medic and some routine testing equipment Vivian would have to be subject to before she returned to the Devastation. Maximilian wagered the Scimitar was fast enough to extract Vivian and return to the fleet just before it arrived at Courescont. It wouldn't even be noticeable to the New Republic.

Maximilian ducked his head as he entered the spherical cockpit of the Scimitar. Almost all the systems were automated, but he always preferred to take off and land on at least partially manual controls. Maximilian eased the joystick and the vessel noiselessly rose and slipped out of the hangar into hyperspace. Once they were free from the Devastation, Maximilian set a new course for Chandrilla.

Before finalizing the jump, Maximilian activated the ships stealth drive. The Scimitar slowly became invisible from the wings inward. Maximilian adjusted the spectrum filtered through the viewport so that he could still see where the boundaries of his ship were. They would likely be flying near obstacles. No need to take chances.

The Scimitar exited hyperspace on the outskirts of Chandrillain space. Even this far out, Maximilian was picking up X-wing patrols on the allspec. However, none of them were altering their course. They were as of yet undetected.

The Scimitar was a fast ship both in and out of hyperspace. It hurtled towards the green and blue orb of Chandrilla at a pace even a Rebel A-Wing would struggle to keep up with. They passed the scant few space stations the capitol world of the New Republic had for its own capital ships and weaved in between bulbous cargo freighters. The Scimitar's computer had already plotted a descent path that minimized the risk of detectability. Maximilian made sure the ship slowed to a crawl as it went through the Atmosphere. The cloak on the Scimitar was advanced, but not advanced enough to hide the signs of a quick reentry. The rolling hills and vast greenery of Chandrila stretched out below them. Somewhere in all of that was Vivian.

A Second Farewell

(Border of Sobayaki land - Deep in the Moraine forest - The day after the party)

Despite what Abercrombie might think, Jaeleno wasn't a complete idiot. Since Ghaghikh now knew Jaeleno's name, there was no point in sheltering Vivian in the farm house. Sooner or later, the feds would arrive. Instead, Jaeleno had gathered his old camping supplies and had proposed a little hiking trip out into the woods. There was a clearing on a hill some five miles away that Jaeleno sometimes went out to (it was where his father was buried, but he didn't mention that). It was a perfect landing zone for a small to medium sized shuttle. Surprisingly, Vivian had agreed.

They hiked through the morning and into the afternoon before they reached the clearing. There, Jaeleno and Abercrombie set up three tents (Abercrombie's having been originally meant for a dog), and began waiting. Vivian said that even a high priority extraction would take at least a day to prepare, so Jaeleno set up an electric grill as Abercrombie assembled a lightweight foldable table. Jaeleno had hiked to this clearing heavily laden with cooking supplies, drinks, and cutlery. He wanted to make Vivian's last night here memorable. After an hour or so of cooking, they sat around the cheap table, and Jaeleno dished out the food. It was Porg Cordon Bleu with sprouts on the side. Jaeleno wagered he had done a suitable job with it.

Before they ate, Abercrombie poured out one of their best bottles of red wine. Considering that the farm would soon be found, there was no point keeping the wine around for a future date. Vivian looked at the food and wine with a contemplative face. "Jaeleno, this was not necessary. If anything, I owe you two for helping me get away from Ghaghikh."

Jaeleno shook his head. "Nonsense." He said, "We were merely repaying you for your help earlier this year. Besides, I've forgotten how much I enjoyed cooking food for small groups. Restaurant work just isn't the same, wouldn't you agree, Abercrombie."

"That's an understatement", Abercrombie said.

As they ate, Vivan continued looking contemplative. "Do you still intend to stay on Chandrila?" She asked. "You know the entire planet is going to be looking for you."

Jaeleno gave a hearty laugh. "Who cares? Abercrombie and I still have a couple aces up our sleeves. I don't think the feds will be too much trouble in the end. The hutts on the other hand…"

"Will be taken care of", Vivian said. "To the best of our ability anyway."

"Thank you for that", Jaeleno said, looking visibly relieved.

"Well, thank you for the documents. Where did you find them anyway?"

"I found them in Mutsa Wusha's den of scum and villainy", Abercrombie said. "As for where she got them, one can only speculate."

"Vivan shook her head and smiled. "This planet is hopeless. Completely, irrecoverably hopeless." She looked back at Jaeleno. "Are you sure you wouldn't want to move to Ryloth? I wasn't lying when I said we could use more farmers."

"I appreciate the offer, but I have to refuse. This land, this farm is too important to me. Somehow I feel I'm meant to be here, even if it looks like everything is caving in around me."

Abercrombie cleared his throat.

"Around us I mean." Jaeleno paused. And looked around the clearing. A quartz headstone stood propped up on the far side. Vivian had undoubtedly noticed, but she hadn't commented on it.

"Do you mind if I monologue a little here?" Jaeleno asked.

"Hang on", Vivian said. She made a show of draining the rest of her wine, and Abercrombie did the same. "Ok, go ahead."

"My father worked this land his entire life. He knew the moraine was terrible for farming, but it wasn't in him to quit, so he kept trying new things, over and over again until something worked. In my opinion, hope is when someone is willing to experiment. It's when someone is willing to invent, to struggle, to think, to change in order to succeed. Hopelessness is when someone just accepts a problem as insurmountable and decays under it. As much as Chandrilla probably hates me now, it's still my home. This planet is trying to figure out what works, much like how Abercrombie and I tried to figure out how to get the farm to work. For it to truly be hopeless, everyone would just have to accept that nothing is wrong, and I don't think that's the case. It might take another decade, maybe two, but I believe that the best days of Chandrilla and Sobayaki farms are yet to come."

Abercrombie gave a round of applause that was only partially mocking, and Vivian looked like she was trying not to laugh.

"Was it really that bad?" Jaeleno asked, a little hurt.

"Oh no, of course not", Vivian giggled. "It was beautiful."

"How long did you practice that one, Jaeleno?" Abercrombie asked.

"I'll have you know that it was completely spontaneous", Jaeleno said as he refilled all their cups. "Now, how about a toast? If not to hope, then to things getting better."

"To things getting better", Vivian said, holding out her cup.

"To things getting better… eventually", Abercrombie said.

…

That night, Abercrombie volunteered to keep watch. He could see better in the dim light than either Jaeleno or Vivian, and none of them wanted to give away their position to snooping police patrols with flashlights or fires. Besides, Vivian's ride wouldn't be arriving until early the next morning. If Jaeleno had anything else to say to the Twi'lek woman between now and then, he was welcome to do so. Abercrombie, on the other hand, was content listening to the relative silence of the forest. He looked up at the stars from his perch on top of his tent. Some stars were moving, freighters or space stations, something like that. Abercrombie had heard a lot of fuss about what happened up there, but despite all of it, he would be perfectly content if he never left Chandrilla. He would see things out with Jaeleno to the end.

A rustling disturbed Abercrombie and he looked towards the other two tents. Vivan had been attempting to get around to Jaeleno's tent, but had caught herself on one of the anchor lines holding down the tarp. It amused Abercrombie to watch this elite imperial spy stumble around in the dark cursing. The alcohol probably contributed to this, but still. Eventually, she found the entrance to Jaeleno's tent and started searching for the zipper. Abercrombie was beginning to wonder whether he should jump down and help her when the zipper opened from the inside. Jaeleno said something and Vivian quietly stepped inside. "How unfortunate", Abercrombie thought as he glanced back up towards the stars. "The silence had been enjoyable while it lasted."

…

Vivian woke up early the next morning and happily watched Jaeleno sleep beside her. For a civilian, he really was quite impressive. If only she could have gotten him to leave this planet with her. She stood up, making sure not to wake him, and got dressed. She picked up the folder of New Republic documents and slowly unzipped the tent. As she stepped outside, she noticed that Abercrombie was perched on top of his tent fast asleep. That didn't matter to Vivian. She would have heard if anybody had approached them during the night. She pulled a watch from her pocket. Her ride back home should be here soon.

There was a slight change in the breeze and three deep indentations suddenly made a large triangular pattern in the grass in front of her. "Follow me, Agent Veronica", a familiar voice said in front of her. The speaker was invisible, but Vivian could tell exactly who it was. "You took your time, Admiral", Vivian said. "On The contrary", Maximilian responded, guiding her to the just barely visible entrance ramp to the extraction ship. "Considering the sensitive diplomatic nature of this planet, one could say I even rushed this little evacuation mission.

Vivian could see the outline of Maximimilian in the morning sunlight. He was paused just at the entrance ramp of the ship. "Did the civilians make up their mind?" He asked. Vivian nodded. "They're staying here", she said.

"I suppose that can be useful for us. Come. We should leave before they wake up." Vivan glanced back at the rolling hills and forests of Chandrilla. As the ship rose out of the clearing, she could just barely make out the capitol. It was an odd feeling. She would miss this place as much as she would have nightmares of it.

…

Jaeleno looked mournfully at the imprints left in the grass. Vivian's ship had arrived and had left all without so much as waking him up. Abercrombie was still perched on top of his tent. He hadn't been woken up either. There was nothing to be done for it though. Jaeleno started getting out the materials for a small breakfast. As he cooked, he reminisced about the night before. If nothing else, Vivian had certainly given him a memorable farewell.

The smell of cooking sausage roused Abercrombie from his sleep and he looked around confused. "Is she gone?" He asked.

"Looks like it", Jaeleno responded wistfully. "Hey, do you want one sausage link or two?"

"One will be fine. I'll start getting the tents packed up….. Do you think that's the last we will see of Vivian?"

"No, something tells me we'll keep in touch."

"And what is that something?"

"A gut feeling."

EPILOGUE

(The Devastation - Above the neutral planet of Courescont)

The Scimitar had docked with the Devastation right on the edge of the Coruscant system. No New Republic security forces had noticed. It had been a clean extraction. Per protocol, Vivian had been scanned for counter intelligence devices, bombs, viruses, the whole suite of potential hazards. She had come back clean. Maximilian had offered her a shuttle ride to a number of pleasant imperial controlled worlds for R and R, but she elected to stay on the Devastation, for now anyway.

Maximilian's current task force was assigned to patrol the imperial side of the Coruscant demilitarized zone. The old capital planet of Palpatine's empire and the old Republic now acted as a meeting ground between the Empire of the Hand and the New Republic. It was where the two governments could air their grievances, and collaborate on galaxy wide issues. It was also where many believed the next war would ultimately start. Maximilian didn't think that was likely. Nobody wanted war, even if everyone's blood was running a bit hotter today.

A hologram in Maximilian's quarters depicted a debate that was unfolding in the old Galactic Senate Chamber. Several New Republic senators were accusing the Empire of the Hand of assisting in a string of terrorist attacks across the Chandrillain capitol. Grand Admiral Thrawn had chosen to debunk these claims himself, and he was doing a wondrous job of it. Every bombing, every fire, every act of violence brought up by the New Republic senators could be explained by the multitude of flaws in the New Republic's domestic policy and the rampant criminal activity that plagued Chandrilla. The New Republic grievances seemed like little more than hearsay, and without any tangible evidence, nobody would act upon this news. It was politics as usual.

Maximilian walked over to a small cabinet along the side of his office. He moved around some paperwork and uncovered the old bottle of Kashyyyk rum he had been saving from his days as a captain. Getting Vivian back without sparking a galactic crisis was certainly worth a drink. Maximilian walked back over to his desk and pondered contacting Vivian. She deserved to share in the celebration. That's when the lights went out.

"We are out of time, Admiral." It was a raspy, dead voice. The lights flickered back on and… a corpse was in Maximilian's chair. It wore scraps of imperial army demolition armor. Its chest and belly had been burned full of blaster holes and its skin was a sickly shade of bluish white. Its eyes were clouded over and didn't focus on Maximilian as it spoke. "Take a seat Admiral", it said, and one of the chairs at Maximilian's desk skidded over to him. "Do you know who I was?" The corpse asked.

Maximilian silently shook his head.

"I once had the name Hammond Blucher. I was a demolition specialist for Ignis company. I died fighting for you and Veers at Ryloth. You briefly interred me onboard this ship. Do you remember none of it?"

Once again Maximilian shook his head and found himself talking to the corpse despite the absurdity of it. "A lot of people died on Ryloth. I can't commit all their names and faces to memory.

"The corpse gave a guttural laugh. But you will remember this face, right?" It leaned in. "You must listen to me. Have you examined the data from the flight recorder your Twi'lek spy found on Chandrila?"
"My intelligence department is still working on it."

"They're not working fast enough. Admiral, it's the same ship you let get away at Ryloth, and it carried the residue of something evil, a parasite of the soul, a wound in the force. I myself have encountered it, and even though I'm dead, it nearly killed me. I fear the actions of your spy have woken this thing up, and allowed it to feed."

Maximilian's hands tightened into fists. " You listen to me. I don't care if you're real or not", Maximilian said. "If you harm Vivian, I will find a way to kill you."

A smile spread across the corpse's face in jerky twitches. "I would not hurt her unless I was forced to motivate you. Admiral, this evil has found a new host on Chandrila, a very strong and dangerous host. I can feel its power growing like a poison in the veins of the galaxy. You must help me find it. You must help me kill it."

"What the hell is this thing anyway?!" Maximilian yelled.

"It calls itself Nihlus, and it is a destroyer of worlds."

To be continued in Book Two

FIN