-Episode 13: Prelude to War-
Dozens of tiny white wings flap as a small swarm of white Alderaanian butterflies flutters around the famous palace gardens of House Organa. Passing by bushes of dazzlingly flue starflowers and the famed white trees, they fly around the lone person in the middle of this garden. F kneels on the grass as blue petals slowly fall, mixing with the butterflies around her. In a flash, unsheathing her lightsaber, F begins swinging her weapon as practiced hundreds of times before. The very air seemed to be cut by the shining blade. F flows with the Force, now able to easily transition from the focused grace of Form II to the wild acrobatics of Form IV.
She stops with a sharp huff. The butterflies fluttered unharmed beside dozens of burnt leaves, now cut in two by F's blade. That is until one uncut leaf lands on her front hair bang "not good enough," she sighs. It's been three rotations since that meeting, and F has been keenly fulfilling her part so far by hand-picking the team that will follow her into a potential one-way ride. Choosing which lives would follow her into such a risky endeavor was difficult. The thought of anything happening to them under her command worried her deeply.
It's why she was now training in these gardens, seeking the peace of mind the area is renowned for bringing. So far, this expectation was falling short so far, but before continuing, she felt a presence approaching, reminding her that her time in this world was drawing close.
"Would you believe you're not the first Jedi to train in these gardens?" Bail shares, smelling a starflower in hand as he approaches.
"Really?" F asks, turning to him as the butterflies flutter away, "given how I was allowed in, I hope this means we don't have a history of causing a disturbance."
Bail shrugs, "not really, though that family tree over there is still growing back after the last Jedi accidentally chopped it down two hundred years ago."
F chuckles, allowing herself one more pleasant memory here." You wouldn't have to worry about me damaging anything here soon." Switching subjects, F deactivates her saber, "I'm assuming everything is prepped and ready for the Faro mission?"
"They are."
F takes one last look at the flourishing flora, "it's funny," she says, "I've spent so much time traversing the stars to get here. Barely a week later, I'm leaving…likely for a very long time." She hoped to find a new, lasting purpose somewhere on this planet, only to realize it was another step down an unknown path. Still, perhaps at least, she can turn it into a road toward reinitiating her trails of knighthood. The rest of the journey lies somewhere amongst the endless stars out there.
A place she once was connected to and has even lost until now.
"Here to share your farewells?" F asks.
"I was wondering if you'd allow me to accompany you to the takeoff point?" Bail asks respectfully. "As a guest of our house, it's a custom to give you a proper escort and farewell to our world."
She nods, "then I humbly accept. Please lead the way." She usually would refuse out of safety concerns, but knowing Bail is taking the precaution seriously, F figures it will be a less stressful ride. Her previous worries still hung over her. The two leave the grand gardens and up the ornate marble staircase while the sounds of speeders and ships echo afar. "If it's not rude of me, I wish to go over the plan once more before my leave," F says.
"And we surely will," Bail says with a smile, "but I found it best to begin such a discussion with a calm mind, and we'll have a wonderful view of the city on the way."
F feels her impatience growing, but looking out to the clear midday skies as they ascend the tower's stairs, she tries to ease up, "That…would be nice." Soon they reached their destination with two royal guards opening the doors of their craft. It was a high-quality shuttle with a pristine shine and enough relaxing seating to fit a dozen passengers comfortably. Boarding the shuttle and flying by the many ornate structures of the capital roads,
The ship glides through the air, its engines emitting a soft hum, and enters the heart of the capital city. F hesitantly accepts refreshments and soon stumbles with her mask as she tries awkwardly to drink a glass of Alderaanian water. Bail, sitting opposite her, holds back a chuckle or two from her attempts, to which F laughs off and pulls her cloak over her face, feeling slightly embarrassed. 'Hardly proper for me to fumble up something as simple as drinking,' she thought, 'let alone in front of a senator. Her attention soon turned to the view of thousands of Alderaanians going about their lives, and it was a sight to behold.
Soaring the city's skyways, F senses a whirlwind of emotions of the people. The struggling poets and artisans in the city parks, the calm of philosophers and teachers in amphitheaters, and the vibrant energy from engineers and scientists in great halls. It's genuinely a soothing feeling for F to feel the life of each world and its people. "Books don't do worlds like this justice," she shares. It's a type of appreciation F learned from Valco and her Master, Hitoshi. It's lessons which, as a Jedi, were an essential part of valuing life, be it nature or the cultures inhabitants within.
Such quiet moments never seem to last long, however. Switching to a more serious tone, F asks, "if I may ask, I'd like first to ask how is everything on your end?"
With a sigh, Bail sets down his drink, "slower than we hoped…much slower," he answers.
F figures there were hiccups to the plan, but the news was no less troubling. "I've handled mass evacuation before," she says, setting down her glass, "but nearly eighty-seven thousand people will be a daunting mission to fulfill without the proper equipment and ships, Bail." She clenches her hands in great worry, "it's the only way I can see us saving these people."
"We're trying. Breha and I have been carefully wiping small and medium ships suitable for this mission from official records. Older and slower vessels but ones the Empire will not notice. The others, however, are facing more difficult challenges. Riyo informed me that gathering even a handful of small craft within a week would be a miracle."
F understands the thin ice Bail and his allies tread, but one less ship means dozens, if not hundreds, of lives left to certain death, and this she will not allow. "That won't even cover two percent of the insurgents," F sighs, twisting one of her rings in worry. "Once my role begins, the Empire will be coming for Faro and in greater numbers the longer we're there. I can only buy so much time; the more a siege lasts, the more lives will be at risk."
"I know," Bail responds, knowing fully well the cost time brings to war. "Perhaps there's another way to acquire them, but…."
Bail trails off to deep thought, and F senses he's considering any option. Seeing how much the senator's reputation has been lived up, F tells him, "whatever method you come up with, I trust you and your allies will pull through in the end…you have to."
Bail nods and shifts the subject to express a personal concern. "This is certainly too late for me to ask, but is playing the part of the new face of these insurgents truly the best path?"
F straights up, trying to ease her tense hands by responding, "how else am I supposed to shift public and senatorial opinion on Alderaan and its allies? I've experienced on Aradia, Ragoon, and Brentaal how far the Empire will go to destroy a padawan like myself. Imagine thier reaction when they suddenly find me leading an insurgency with mercy mission crew as hostages" She almost chuckles at the absurd narrow-mindedness of the Empire, "a Sith like Palpatine will brush aside anything to vanquish another Jedi and use it to boost his legitimacy."
Bail is silent, knowing too well the Imperial mission to wipe out the Jedi. "I suppose it's still the best way to explain how our many doctors and engineers are on Faro. Where did the idea of making them fake hostages to ward off suspicion come from?"
F sits back as she remembers, "during a covert mission in the Clone Wars, my commandos and I uncovered a Separatist plot to fake a hostage crisis on Bastion. It would've been pinned on the Republic, angering its people and having its bureaucrats join the separatist if we didn't stop it."
"And this plan stuck with you?"
F nods, "in retrospect, it served as a kind of warning of the Empire. It shows how easy it is to manipulate public and governmental opinion for people like Palpatine to grow in power." She grips her blue hakama, trying not to find satisfaction in turning this strategy against a sith like him, for it'll only tempt her to potentially more dangerous actions.
"I do see your logic," Bail amidst, "a public resentful of Jedi seeing you hold a lightsaber to our people's throats? Even the senate would turn heel and think we're as many victims of the insurgents as they are, and we both see how eager they are to think they've squashed the Insurgency."
"Exactly my point. However, the most dangerous part will be this Commodore Montar. Is there anything more about him you can share?"
Bail strokes his hair in worry and warns, "he may only be a man, but he's still a capable fleet leader. Reliant on conventional but effective tactics. This will also be his one chance to attain what he sees as his rightful victory. He'll do anything not to squander this."
"Noted," F mutters, tapping her mask in thought.
"I know there's no turning back now, but I shudder at having to be complacent under Palpatine's senate. Even if it's all just an act."
"We all must play our roles to fulfill the real mission," she reminds him, "saving these people's lives and preserving each of these rebellious cells until it one day finds a way to unite…no matter how long it takes."
Bail looks long and hard outside as they near their destination, slowly accepting that their mission to return democracy and freedom, for now, is a long road ahead. However, a firm hope remains that it will not be an impossible goal to reach. "And what of you?" he asks, "with everything you've done and are about to do, are you prepared for this? To be alone and potentially on the run for years to come?"
F is still like a rock from such a question. She unclips her lightsaber, staring as she feels the crystal inside. It is attuned to her, and she feels the light within still shining brightly through it. "I'll find a way," she answers with an air of uncertainty and a preserving sense of resolve. The shuttle sits inside a building just outside the capital, tucked away from potential imperial eyes. Stepping out, they're greeted by Bail's top captain of his house, Raymus Antilles.
With a quick salute, he informs them, "ships are prepped, and teams are on standby. Everything will be past those Dock 2 doors."
"And what of my request?" F asks.
"It's uhh, slowly on its way–" the captain says before a loud, effeminate robotic voice rings across the room, and two peculiar droids approach.
"Oh, Master Organa!" a gold-plated protocol droid gasps in delight while holding a black case, "it's a pleasant surprise to see you and your Jedi guest early!"
"Bwee–boop!" the blue and white R2 unit chirped.
"O-oh right, total secrecy. Erm, I mean, what Jedi? Do you see a Jedi Artoo? I certainly don't!"
"Oh, by the stars, the facility's already secured you two," Captain Antilles sighs in annoyance. However, Bail got a good chuckle from the droid's antics.
"Here's the package of disguises as requested," C3PO says as he hands the package to F "given the quality of my programming, I'm sure you'll find the fabric and designs top-of-the-line."
"Not a priority but thanks?" F shrugs.
"Breep-deep!" R2 tells his partner.
"Of course, I know it's just to help hide their identity once they're gone. It doesn't excuse poor fashion sense," Threepio argues as F and Bail leave.
She proceeded to Dock two and couldn't help but say, "very…interesting droids your captain has."
"Haha, with those two, 'interesting' is putting it mildly," Bail chuckles. Walking further into the hangar, the large doors of Dock 2 open, unveiling two ships on a landing pad ready for take off. Beside them, the team hand-picked by F that'll be accompanying her for this mission.
"Impressive, is it not?" Bail asks as F approaches the old cruiser named Tantive II. Its age spoke for itself from the bulkier design and no guns apparent, a pattern F recognizes from many High Republic Era ships. "Decommissioned by Breha's grandmother herself over a hundred years ago, only the people here today know it still exists, and others will see it as another ship," Bail explains, "it'll get your team to Faro in no time. The old vessel has been waiting for its final mission after all."
"We'll put it to good use," F assures before turning to the team of eighteen operatives.
The first three of them each gave small salutes to F "ready, commander?" Red asks as Jye and Ivy double-check their commando gear. At first, F didn't wish to put her old comrades at risk, especially after hearing their own agenda of staying with Bail's intelligence network and helping any AWOL clones. Instead, it took the squad's own insistence for F to accept.
"I am, and I know you three will be ready for anything. Simply know that when you're wounded, I'm sending you straight to the med bay."
"As squad medic, leave those decisions to me, commander," Jye points out.
"Besides, who would watch your back if you send us away?" Ivy smirks while loading her blaster.
Red dons his helmet and says, "I worked with and learned from many insurgents during the war. They have a way of leading and strategizing on which we can find common ground. I've read the briefing on who we should expect; let me help speak with them, and we'll convince them of your plan in no time flat."
F concedes and shakes Red's hand, "then let's give it our all one more time."
As Red and the others board, F turns to the captain of the Tantive II and the ten pilots behind her who make up the new Citrus Squadron. "Major Red and Senator Bail spoke highly of each of your piloting records, which is why you've been chosen for this mission," F said commandingly. "Your skills will be crucial for our main objective and in doing our part of defending Faro against any imperial threat. I've sent you an overview of my squadron tactics for starfighter and capital ship combat. My first piece of advice? Don't be a hero out there. You are part of something bigger, and those on Faro will depend on you to survive. Understood?"
"Loud and clear, boss," Patricia Katarn nods as the rest of the pilots salute behind her. Upon witnessing F's proposal to the council, the captain was the first to volunteer. F, in return, sensed the woman's fierce determination to participate in the fight against tyranny, to the point that F wonders what motives are pushing her to fight. As the captain boarded Tantive II with the others, Patrica waved at them, "I look forward to seeing how true those tales about you are."
Finally, F approaches the last four members: their lead medical officer Eliash, her fellow medic, a communication officer, and an engineer. While Jye was their combat medic, F knew they needed a support team to not only aid their team but lend a helping hand to the insurgents. "Support squad, I expect you to coordinate seamlessly and efficiently with our allies on Faro. You are our hands tending to any wounded, our eyes detecting any critical technical error, and our voice to Bail's council at a moment's notice. Understood?"
"Yes, Commander," Eliash salutes, a noticeable nervousness in her voice.
"Something the matter?" F asks.
"Just my first field mission…but don't fret, I swear to be useful like everybody else!"
"You already are, Eliash," F nods, watching as the last of her team board Tantive II.
"I believe you assembled a fine team," Bail affirms.
"I will bring them back to your world," F says quietly, and Bail remains silent. She feels a tug from her cloak and sees RE-1 eagerly waiting beside her. "Are you sure about joining me? You'll be safer here with Bail. He can even locate Valco for you."
RE-1 tilts her head, pondering before remaining where she stands. "It's gonna be just the two of us for a long while, my friend," F cautions.
F begins hopping on her refurbished Z-95, where she finds RE-1 on her seat.
"Bweep!"
"Don't wanna be alone?" F whispers. She accepted the choice with a small smile; Rei was happily on her shoulder. F turns to the senator and gives a slight bow, "I'm sorry my time serving your network is so short," she says.
"You've already done much for a noble cause, F," Bail assures, "why is it that each goodbye is harder than the last with Jedi?"
"We hate long farewells too."
Bail chuckles at F's response. He retained that confident smile as he told F, "I wish I had met your Master Hitoshi to thank him for raising a great student."
"I'm only following what I feel is right."
"Which is why I can tell he taught you well," Bail says sincerely. F feels she can never get used to such compliments but remains respectfully silent as Bail reaches for something in his pocket. He tells her more seriously, "I see how much the weight of your situation affects you, and I want you to know that I believe you will become a great Knight one day."
"That's for the Force to decide, but thank you for the sentiment, Senator."
"Heh, just Bail," he says with a slight smile.
"Ah, right."
Glinting upward, he says, "I hope you find what you're looking for out there and that this will help you along the way," and hands her a white and blue device shaped like a handbook.
F could tell it was a soft but durable leather with her mask's blue insignia on the cover. It was barely the size of her hand and felt lightweight. She flips it over to see a simple screen and blue digital text indicating it's ready for recording. "A pocket datapad?" she mutters.
"Not just any datapad. It's crafted with the best materials on Alderaan. It's as tough as Beskar and as light as a feather. It will last for generations."
"Why? What is it for?"
"To record your tale," he says with a soft smile, "when you spoke before of fearing being the last of your people, it stuck with Breha and me. So we helped create this, speak to it, and it'll record anything you wish to preserve, be it a piece of your past, your culture, or a tale of someone dear to you."
F stares, astonished at the digital journal, momentarily speechless of the sympathetic gift she's been handed. Suddenly, a memory appears like a whisper in her mind. "Remembrance can be as precious as it is painful," she whispers.
"Did you just come up with that?" Bail asks.
F shakes her head, "a Jedi dear to me named Sagiso once told me that. She believed, despite the pain, that being remembered is a truly precious act. Memories keep someone from ever being really gone."
Bail nods warmly, "I couldn't agree more."
With a new wave of vigor in her heart, F tucks her journal underneath her white robes and bows for the final time, "Thank you, I'll use it wisely."
"Thank you for your service to our world," Bail bows back, "House Organa will never forget it."
"Let's go, Rei!" F says, dashing to her refurbished Z-95 starfighter. Hopping in, the engines come to life with a button press. She feels her flight stick rumble as her ship is prepped for takeoff. Rei, on her lap, beeps with anticipation of their flight. F sees Bail's smile beaming with confidence in her mission. "The eyes of the galaxy will look to you, Senator Organa," F tells him, "and I believe voices like yours will be what the people of this galaxy need to push back against the darkness."
If there's one thing F saw eye to eye with the royal family, it is the weight of carrying on the legacy of those gone too soon. Being a leader, the face of a whole rebel movement, was the responsibility of a dear friend, for who better to lead such a noble cause than Amidala? But she's gone now, leaving Bail and co. with this cause and fear. Fear of whether their actions are enough to bring change and honor the fallen. However, F senses Bail's willingness to try, ensuring her that he'll find a way to honor his companion, and one day the Organas will become the leaders it needs.
Bail raises his hand and bids farewell, "may the force be with you, padawan F."
"And to you, Bail Organa," F waves back. With a twist of the wrist, F's starfighter raises to the air along with the Tantive II. The wind blows with great force as both ships take off; F jolts back as the ship begins picking up speed until she soars over the snow peak mountains and high to the clear blue skies. The controls of her ship soon soothe, with both ships now seeing the endless view of stars already there. F looks down momentarily at the blue and green planet, staring before shifting her gaze to her datapad.
"Everything alright, commander?" Red asks from the comms.
"...I made my choice, and I must see it to the end," F answers honestly. Clearing her head, she announces, "prepping jump to lightspeed. On my mark…now!" With a lever thrust, F holds her breath as blue lights reflect off her eyes. Both ships vanish in a blink of an eye as if they were never there. Soon, their journey at incredible speeds to deep space soon takes them to the borders of the core rim until the great heart of the galaxy is entirely behind them.
/-/-/-/-/-/
[Faro - Colonies Rim]
F's ship is the first to come out of hyperspace, smoothly gliding toward the relatively small world of Faro. Its two oceans were of deep blue color, and its three continents were rocky with large patches of bright bioluminescent jungles whose shine can be seen even from space. Checking her Navi-computer from Bail's intelligence data, the hidden fortress is located in the depths of one of these jungles. " Tantive II, any signal of potential Imperial activity out here?" F asks.
"Negative, Commander," Captain Patricia replies.
"Then follow me to the landing point," F orders, shifting her flight stick and quickly descending to the rocky planet. Touching down in a jungle clearing, F and Rei leap out to survey the area as the Tantive II lands beside them.
"Bwee-boop?"
"Well, we haven't been shot at yet, at least," F shrugs, seeing how odd the trees were shaped and their leaves contained a soft green glow. Large species of fungi scattered about beside large depots of crystals. Walking to the Tantive II, she orders, "Commandos, we're moving out. Everybody but Captain Patricia stays on the ship until further orders; sergeant Verlaine will be in charge until then."
"Enjoy it while it lasts, Keyan," Patricia tells her right-hand man, who rolls his eyes smirkingly.
"A few klicks northeast will be where we'll find our insurgents. Let's move," F says and begins their run toward the fortress.
"So it's Asami for now, correct?" Red asks, running beside F.
"Yes. In fact, let's try to keep our military histories to a minimum in front of these guys, especially the Separatist faction here," she cautions.
"And how the hell do we even deal with them?" Ivy asks, "especially since all but one of us is either a Jedi or clone suddenly knocking on their front door."
"It's the one part of the plan we'll have to deal with on the spot," F begrudgingly admits, "but at the very least, we need to convince them that their survival hinges on us staying alive."
"Sure, doesn't sound hard at all," Jye sighs.
"Are we expecting to find the insurgents or for the insurgents to find us?" Patricia asks.
Suddenly, F stops in her tracks, holding up a fist to tell the others to stop, closing her eyes to stretch out her senses toward the dense foliage around them for any danger.
"Something tells me we'll get our answer soon," Red whispers as he grabs something in his pack.
F eyes shoot open as she shouts, "get down!" Heavy blaster fire begins to erupt from the jungle. F pushed the others behind cover with the Force before swiftly hiding behind a large crystal with a startled Rei.
"Okay, yep, they definitely found us!" Patricia coughs out, "and way jumpier than before."
"Cease fire!" Red shouts, pulling out Alderaan's rebel network insignia, "we're with Alderaan!"
"We're operatives under Organa's intelligence network!" Patricia shouts, holding out a symbol of her rank, "so put the blasters down!"
Soon enough, the firing stops, and F sees a few insurgents wearing brown and gray uniforms walk toward them. F's group slowly emerges and greets the leader of this company, a human woman close to Patricia's age, with a patch showing she's 2nd lieutenant Mari Kosan.
"About time we heard from you. It's been kriffing weeks!" Mari groans in annoyance until seeing F and the commandos. "What the…where are the supplies? Is this not a convoy run?"
"There's been a change of plan," Patricia says, having met the Insurgents a few times.
"We request to speak with each of the insurgent leaders." F steps up and demands, "who do you serve under?"
Mari squinted, "And who exactly did those core worlders send?" F glances back at Red before releasing her lightsaber and igniting it, shocking the insurgents.
"You're a Jedi?" Mari gasps.
F nods, "We're here to help you, all of you, from Imperial destruction."
F sees Mari ponder for a moment before pulling out a communicator. "Sir, you're not gonna believe what arrived," Mari says. After a quick exchange, she puts away her comm and extends her hand to shake. "We're the Partisans, Saw Gerrera's group," Mari said as F shook her hand, "He'd agreed to see you, but he's probably not gonna like what you got to say."
"That's why I am here," F says, following the insurgent company back to their base.
"At least one group doesn't hate us," Ivy whispers.
"Yet," Jye cautions.
Red whispers F, "I've heard of this Saw from a captain of the 501st. Let me lead the discussion. Then do your work."
"Sounds like a plan," F says, patting his shoulder as they see the massive fortress before them.
The base complex sat on a small mountain with metal built on stone foundations. A large, thick metallic, square-like tower was in the center of the base. Surrounding it were thick stone walls with a few large bunkers built in them. F notices how these walls had sections in decay or already falling apart. In particular, the east area of the walls housed what appeared to be a giant Ion cannon that was rusted with exposed sections of its gun. She noticed that the manpower here couldn't have built the base's newer areas within less than a year.
They reach the frontline trenches, this section looking ruins of a long abandoned village. It appears primarily made up of trenches that contained defensive fighting positions, bunkers, buoys for republic tanks, and other small structures like pillboxes. There are at least two DF.9 anti-infantry battery torrents per sector of the frontlines. Despite the armament, Red spoke up about what the whole team thought of them, "shoddily made and barely anybody defending them."
"Strangely quiet for a base," Jye adds.
Indeed, F saw that only sixty were present for a section that should contain well over a hundred and fifty soldiers. She sensed many were low on morale, given their recent losses and depletion of supplies. Trenches were still freshly made, the bunker's walls were cracked, and some blaster turrets were hastily put together. In terms of heavy equipment, there were practically none.
Walking a mile further and crossing a second line of trenches, the group reached the steps of the fortress. A short but fortified stone pathway led to the only ray-shielded gates. It was only then, traversing the long and tall halls of the fort, that F realized how this base could possibly exist, 'it's an abandoned separatist base,' she thought. It explained some sections' eerie air with tattered pieces of the separatist insignia and broken power stations for battle droids littered about.
They arrive at the orange banners of the Partisan's halls and find Saw's makeshift war room with a grizzled Lasat guarding the door.
"Hold," Mari told the group, "only two."
F gestures to Rei and the rest to stand outside. The Lasat opens the door for her and Red. Entering, F senses steel nerves and headstrong will from the battle-hardened Gerrera now facing them. He glimpsed at F's lightsaber and padawan braid, "and here I thought I'd never see another Jedi."
"You almost didn't," F responds, remembering the far too many close calls her journey brought. Getting down to business, she continues, "Saw Gerrera, I wanted to speak to you first. We hope our two people's past alliance-"
"On Onderon, during the clone wars," Saw said, gripping some small object. "That time already feels like the distant past. I'm sure you two feel the same."
"...We do," F answers for both of them.
He nods solemnly, "I do remember your people's actions on Onderon," Saw says, "but that was the previous war. I now have new soldiers to feed, arm, and patch up to wage a new war. So unless you are here to help do something about my troops, you'll only be wasting my time."
"Then we'll cut to the chase," Red speaks up, facing Saw from the other end of the hologram table, "the Empire is close to discovering this base. It's only a matter of time before everyone here is bombarded to death, and your war ends before it has a chance to begin. The Empire will occupy your allies' planets when they find their supplies off your dead fingers. Then no one can stop Palpatine and his new order."
F expected Red to be the more brutally blunt of the two, and that approach left the young fighter silent with this new development. "So," Red continues, "do you still feel like we're wasting your time?"
Then, what F didn't expect was for Saw to scoff at Red. "We have a contingency plan for such an occasion," he says, his mind already going through the logistics of this plan.
"But you don't have enough carrier ships," F brings up, "especially after the failed attack on Chardaan."
Saw is briefly silent again, a wince in his brow from the painful memory. "Several ships were destroyed, with over a thousand good people dead. Most of them my own," he recollects, his regret switching to anger. "That idiotic Kreegyr was too aggressive, and Typho's forces became too much of a burden and barely fought. He didn't even look at me after we barely made it out."
"And we're here to prevent that from happening again," F says assuredly, "even with all the ships here now, only a tenth of the total Insurgency could leave."
There's a pause and a stern look from Saw, "but that's more than enough for my people."
"What?" both F and Red blurted out.
"You think these other lost factions were a part of the contingency?" Saw asks, trying to appear cold, but F could sense hesitation buried beneath the contempt he holds. "Every strategic failure and every fallen comrade by them showed that my willingness to join was a naive endeavor. I should've left when those separatist scum led by Kreegyr slivered their way to this organization."
F stops him from reaching his communicator, "but even the separatist should have a chance of–" she says until Red speaks up.
"Gerrera," he says, taking off his helmet, "as one soldier to another, I understand how that hate lingers in you, but you shouldn't let it get to your head. If you do, it'll get you killed someday or worse. That same hate is why my closest brother still serves the Empire…he can't see himself as more than a soldier."
"I am nothing like you clones," Saw said with a look of scorn, "I encountered some who I gave a chance to change. But upon my return, I found Onderonian soldiers and civilians executed by one of them." F flinches from the gruesome story, watching Red grit his teeth in frustration at the tale. "Unlike clones, I am not blind to reality. I don't obey some egomaniacal figurehead of a corrupt state and let them control my destiny."
F looks worried at Red. The argument may devolve while sensing Red's patience thinning. Instead, however, her friend kept his cool. "What about me then? Or the clones who barely saved me from Imperial execution? Are we blind to you too?"
Saw stays silent.
"I'm not absolving the part we played in letting this all happen," Red tells him, "but if you claim to be not blind, then surely you must see that the other thousands here are on your side even if they don't admit it themselves too. Leaving them here to die because of bad blood will ultimately help the Empire, even if some here are total pains in the ass."
"Bad blood? You don't know what I lost because of the separatists," Saw hisses.
"Yes, we don't Saw," F admits, "but we're not here to say that you must let that hate in you go… that's something you must figure out on your own. All I ask is this, would others in your life have agreed to your plan of ditching others to their fates?"
Saw clenches up his shoulders at her question. Turning his back, he looks at the object in his hand. F catching a glimpse, it's a hologram of a woman who shares some features with Saw. He stares at this somber reminder of the past, of his biggest failure. Shutting it off with a begrudging sigh, he tells them, "...unless you have some miraculous plan in mind, it's not changing the fact we don't have enough ships for everyone."
"That's where Organa's people come in," F brings up.
"Ah yes, those core worlders," Saw, his arms crossed, "they must've really screwed up if they're sending one of the last Jedi here." Red and F glance at each other before Saw answers the question in their minds. "Yeah, I heard about the political pressure on Alderaan and talks of occupation for potential treachery. It easily explains the cease of supplies."
"My plan isn't just for them," F firmly clarifies.
"Ah, then give it to me straight, Jedi. Can your wizardry conjure up a miracle for all parties?"
"Something like that, yes," F replies with dry sarcasm, "It will only work if I have everyone's cooperation, and I can't do that unless you allow me an audience with the other faction leaders."
"You all may not be on speaking terms, but we ask only thirty minutes, if even," Red insists.
"And your group loses nothing from cooperation. Everyone will get equal chances at departure, especially the sick and wounded," F assures.
Saw's interest really peaked from that last promise, indicating to F his people might have a notably higher proportion of casualties. He thinks long and hard, finally looking at F, and asks, "thirty full minutes?" She nods, and Saw nods back, "give me an hour," he says.
It wasn't a yes, nor was it a rejection. So F could only say "thank you" before gesturing to Red to leave with her. She senses Red is silently letting out his anger from some of Saw's comments, so she tells the others.
"Well?" Ivy asks upon their return.
F sighs, "we'll see in an hour."
"Oh fark," Jye mutters.
"Doesn't exactly sound great," Patricia says.
"It's better than a no," F suggested.
"But not by much."
"Regardless, our mission is still feasible, and now is the time to start acting on it. Right, Red?" F says commandingly.
He looks tired before putting his helmet back on, "Right. Your orders then, commander?"
F raises her hand, signaling to the Partisan who brought them, "Lieutenant Kosan, we would like to request the rest of our crew to land our ships in this base."
The young rebel mutters to her communicator, "Sir, they're requesting–"
"Just do it, Lieutenant," Saw mutters before cutting the call.
"Yes, sir. I'll tell our people to open dock 4."
"Thank you," F says before turning to Patricia, "Captain, call our people over here and follow Kosan to the hangar. I want you to begin leading our tech specialists to analyze the limits of this base's mechanical and electronic systems. Study how the base and its docking bays will fare during a massive evacuation."
"Deep-Breeep!" Rei chirps, walking up to Patricia.
"Rei's built-in tools should be of help," F says, "use the data you find to get the full logistics of this mission, like how many people will fit in a hanger? How many evacuees should be aimed for daily? How many ships of various sizes can go in and out of here within one rotation?"
"We'll do our best, boss," Patricia salutes, a bit overwhelmed but confident of her ability to fulfill these tasks.
"Jye, head for the general medical ward, your status as a medic should allow you entry. Met the Alderaanian doctors there. Inform them of our mission, catalog crucial medical devices, and check how many are wounded and sick. Eliash should be there soon to help."
"Request to help Jye?" Ivy asks.
"Granted. Now, move out!" F orders, emphasizing with a clap. The two teams run in different directions to complete their tasks, leaving just Red and F patiently waiting for Saw.
F leans against a stone railing, rubbing the temple of her mind and pondering what to say next if they're lucky enough to gain an audience. Red leans back beside her, crossing his arms while looking at her. "What?" she asks.
"You," Red points, "listen to you – you sound like a true leader. Practically nothing like the Jedi I met on Geonosis."
"Where did this come from?" F mumbles.
"Just something I realized while trying to let out steam."
"I see…well, surely I wasn't that much of a novice back then."
"Oh really? I remember how you barely raised your voice that day, even under a hail of blaster fire."
"I still rather not shout."
"Well, that day, I wouldn't have figured you grow up this fast," Red chuckles. "I suppose that's just you, though. Consistently capable of adapting to keep up and survive."
"Yeah, that's just me…." F whispers, a sudden melancholy as a thought crosses her mind. 'This will probably be our last laughs before I'm gone.' Sensing her silence is becoming awkward, she crosses her arms and tries returning to a lighter mood to let this calm downtime last as long as possible. "I'm sure everyone won't miss me bossing them around."
"Haha, well, it's better than Cody from that time on Ryloth. That guy was a stickler with protocol, including shower protocol."
"Given how some of you all smelled, my regiment should've followed his example."
Red scoffs, subtly smelling his armor and causing them to share light laughter. The two old friends spend one hour wisely before the impending fight begins, before the last smoke clears, and both will vanish from each other's lives again.
/-/-/-/-/-/
It's been over an hour now that Red and F have been waiting, putting them in a worrying position that may cost them time. Time was a precious resource they couldn't spare.
It wasn't all quiet, however, as from time to time, the two would receive updates from the others until finally, Patricia arrived to deliver their latest findings. "Our engineers are still looking, but it's not as good as we hoped, commander," she said, "there are three hangars here that'll fit ships the size of the Tantive II, but only one is structurally sound. The others need their take-off pads reasonably repaired unless we want the floor to crack beneath us."
"Then get to repairing fast," F tells her.
"Yes, well, that's not the bad part of our findings. The bad part is that these hangers could comfortably hold up to 500 people each. We can increase this, but that'll mean more difficulty handling crowds and moving equipment elsewhere."
"We can't designate another clearing as a safe landing zone?" Red brings up.
"We can, but we should also expect the worst when the Empire's forces attack," Patricia said, "so if the empire army advances across our lines quickly, then those LZs aren't gonna be safe for much longer."
"I think she's right," F says, "we need to avoid endangering the ships and evacuees as much as possible. What about the ion cannon and the base's shields, then?"
"The guys here told me they've been trying to get it working for weeks," Patricia says in a huff. "The shields are fine but are an older model. It seems the base was abandoned at the onset of the clone wars because I've seen more advanced separatist tech than this."
"Meaning what?" F asks.
"The shields take too long to recharge to survive a constant barrage. So unless we get the Ion Cannon back up and running, the shields alone can't protect this base for long."
"Then the next best strategy is to ward off any Imperial capital ships with the cannon until a bombardment is no longer strategically viable," Red said.
"Thus forcing them into land warfare," F finishes. Despite it being likely the Empire will put up a brutal fight with its armor and larger army, it'll be a slower endeavor that can be stalled. At the very least, it'll also move the main Imperial force away from their evacuation ship paths. There will likely still be enemy fighters, but that's what their escort fighters are there for.
"Focus on fixing that cannon, Captain," F orders, and Patricia returns to the hangar levels.
Finally, steps are heard, and the two find Saw Gerrera entering the hallway, ready to speak. "This way," he says, walking past them as the two follow.
"They agreed to meet?" F asks.
"They agreed not to kill you," Saw answers, pointing at F specifically, "and they'll only meet if you two carry no weapons."
"How about them?" Red demands, but Saw remains silent. He pulls F aside momentarily and whispers, "commander, maybe you should call in the Captain for this. She'll–"
"They're not going to like whoever enters this meeting. It might as well be me," F reasons.
"Or perhaps you can use that mind trick thing on them and–"
"No," F sharply refuses, "using it now would be a gross misuse of the Force and my position as a Jedi. These leaders need to make their own choices, good or bad."
"And I would rather not see you tank another blaster bolt to the chest."
Saw stops, and the two realize they have arrived at the main chamber. Even here, they could hear whispers of people on the other side. "Just the Jedi," he tells them, surprising F. "I'm sorry, but getting them to speak to her was already difficult."
F understood this as a security measure last time, but this was outright ridiculous. Before she could voice a potential alternative, Red turned his back and walked away. "Red," she calls out.
"Look, I gotta check on the squad anyway," he tries brushing it off, "the sooner you convince these people, the faster we all can get out of here, right?" Before F could say anything further, Red was already out of sight, and Saw could only quietly remind her that the other's patience was waning. F's anger ignited at this blatant disrespect, even if the others didn't know about the chips or what he went through. However, F is forced to push these feelings aside for only thirty minutes. She still needed the others' full cooperation if this plan's logistics would work. Getting mad at them won't help her, and Red seems to see that too, which is why he'd walked away rather than argue.
She lets herself, shoving open the doors and walking up the stage of the auditorium-like room, looking up to the audience of thirteen people. Thirteen leaders of insurgent factions, each possessing thousands of troops ready to fight for their people. A smooth hole above lit the room, with the leaders sitting quite far apart. Each of their gazes was already glued to F. When Saw sits with the other leaders, whispers are heard amongst some.
"So it is true," the famed militant Anto Kreegyr proclaims, a rugged man of great girth with carbon scoring on his clothes. Far from the usual Separatist appearance F has encountered. "And here I thought you were pulling our legs, Saw," he continued, "though looking at this conjurer makes me wish you were."
Two leaders, the elderly Christophian Colonel Topha and the Mimbanese Major Loom Carplin, almost left. "Please, just hear me out," F pleads.
"What good will one Jedi do for us if dozens of them could liberate Christophsis from the droids?" the christophsian said.
"Or up and disappearing while their troops suddenly turn against us," a protocol droid translates the Mimban leader's words.
"Klo's right, and why not? I want to hear them out," the Lasat captain Borin sighs.
Lady Senessa Visz of the Mirialan freedom fighters stood up for the group and asked calmly, "state your name and business, Jedi."
F sighs in relief before answering, "I am Padawan learner Asami of the Jedi Order. I'm here because the Empire knows this base. It's only a matter of time before they send a large strike force to completely annihilate your forces and discover your suppliers' rebellious activity. My team is already tending to your wounded and repairing infrastructure important for my plan: a mass evacuation, all eighty-seven thousand of you."
F sees a mix of reactions as some begin whispering amongst each other over this development. Eventually, Dantooine resistance leader Kilo asks, "how much time do we have?"
"I give us a maximum of five days," F answered.
"And you're only now telling us?" the Mantooine leader Major Loom Carplin said.
"This is why we should have focused more on fixing the ion cannon," the Duro commander Siha said accusingly to the Ishi Tib leader Vek Aymeric.
"Oh, and how many parts do we have to accomplish that?" Vek argues.
"Everyone, please calm yourselves. My team and I were sent here to solve this issue," F said.
"How did our location leak?" Anto speaks up, drawing the room's gaze.
F answered honestly, "During an Insurgent rescue mission, a droid probe tracked a ship and matched it to a previous sighting in this system. A Commodore named Montar Harcourt is highly suspicious of Faro being the home to the Insurgency. He's keen on invading as we speak."
"Who was the rescue mission for, exactly?" Anto further asks.
"Why does it matter?" Captain Gergar Typhoe of the Naboo resistance asks.
F knew what he was doing but also saw more harm in lying. "This mission was to rescue me…" she said.
"Essentially speaking, this is all your fault."
And there it was.
"That's out of line, Kreegyr," Gregar said.
"Of course, you would think so, Typho, you republic bootlicker," Anto shot back, "you and your dear senator always spoke peace, yet you two were always close with those corrupt Jedi. This one will kill us like it did, your naive senator."
"How dare you!" Captain Klo said, remembering what the late Amidala had done for Rodia.
"Don't you dare tarnish her name," Gregar snapped.
"I'm only speaking the truth. The Jedi are so incompetent that they got their biggest ally killed amidst their pathetic grab for power."
"It's unwise to take the Emperor's word at face value, Kreegyr," Gerrera said.
"I agree," Lieutenant Isval said, leader of her branch of the larger free Ryloth movement. "If not for the Jedi, Ryloth would've suffered greater losses during the war."
"And yet I'd understand Kreegyr's sentiment," the Mikkian commander Ravis acknowledges, "everywhere the Jedi go, they seem to bring with them as much destruction as they do help. How can we be sure your plan won't bring further pain, Asami?"
It was far from helpful to the current predicament, but Anto wasn't exactly wrong. In a way, F's desperate desire to find the Insurgency to get back at the Empire has made matters direr. Nonetheless, this is no time to let any potential mistake cloud her judgment now nor let it deter her ability to convince the leaders before her. "How you feel about my people and I doesn't matter," F steps up. "Each of you could despise me all you want, but that won't stop me from helping you out of this dire predicament."
"Why? What do you have to gain from helping us?" Siha asks.
"I don't seek to gain anything. I only wish to give the galaxy's future a fighting chance."
"What kind of future?" Isval asks.
"One where the galaxy isn't divided, like how it is in this very room."
"And what of it?" Vek asks, "what would be the point of fighting with these people if they don't care to give a damn about the suffering of my people?"
"Hey, we each suffered too," Borin said, "under the republic, separatist, and now the Empire. The real problem here is that you all want to return to the governments that caused this in the first place."
"At least we agree on one thing," Gerrera said.
"Enough!" F shouts, "see, this is exactly what I'm talking about. For months I've avoided death with the hope the Insurgency I find would become something bigger…but instead, I found two things: a divided cause and seedlings for a better future."
"And your visions foreseen this, Jedi?" Serrera asks.
"No, it's only a simple hope," F explains, "The Clone Wars were destructive beyond what anyone could have imagined. The first galactic war in nearly a thousand years. In the end, no one was the winner except the Emperor, and we all lost something, someplace, or someone to this pointless war." F sees the room suddenly fall silent and gazes downward, conveying that each suffered great loss, even Anto himself.
"It tore the galaxy apart, pitted families against each other, and divided this room," F continued. "There's nothing I can say or do to remedy every strife and bad blood your groups have against one another. Simply speaking, I don't know where even to begin. I'm one Jedi, a learner, no less—one who was consumed by the war, which brought out the worst in me. The only alternative I can give you is to continue the fight. In time, even address and reconcile your past grudges. Only through solidarity formed amongst a united front could you have a chance to topple the Empire."
The room suddenly falls silent. Some leaders look hesitant, while others appear fully onboard with the notion.
"So…unless this room decides otherwise, it'd be best if each of you go your separate ways. I could only hope the best for each of you. Hope that the people of your worlds will, over time, begin seeing the truth of what the empire is and unite to shatter this darkness."
"But since when have the Jedi cared about the people?" Anto asks, "you're more worried about those core worlders and their senators, aren't you? Have you ever thought that an Imperial occupation may open the people of those world's eyes toward rebellion? They don't know war as we do, so perhaps they need a wake-up call."
"I won't let billions suffer," F firmly said, "yes, the core worlds didn't have whole cities destroyed like the rest of the galaxy. It feels unfair because it is. But that doesn't mean there are still good people who believe in equality and democracy as you do."
"I think you still carry one flaw from your order, Jedi," Saw said. "You still worry for those in power. It makes you vulnerable to forgetting about us. We're shedding blood and dying in the mud, not them or their families."
"I have to agree, much to my disgust, with Saw," Anto said, "we left because the Jedi seemingly sided with corporations and an unjust state while advocating for peace rather than the people and workers."
"Dooku's hands were deep in the bank's pockets, too," Isval points out.
"Yet he was still correct in seeing your Order's hypocrisy. You say you care for everyone equally while your robes stink of Alderaanian soap. Don't be fooled by their flattery because helping those in power will eventually make you another pawn, even with good intentions."
"I am no one's pawn," F hisses, showing anger to the crowd for the first time, "merely a survivor trying to find a new purpose in this galaxy. Besides, why would any of you care if I frame myself as an insurgent and enemy to these worlds to fool the Empire? Most of you seem not to care that my people are dying, so what's one more?"
The room again falls silent at F's comment. Only Klo, Gregar, Isval, and Saw looked sympathetic to F, while everyone else was neutral or apathetic to her statement.
"I thought so…" F sighs, a dower looking at the apathy to the Jedi's darkest hour. "I thank the ones who feel otherwise about my people."
"Of course," Gregar says, "now, how will your team accommodate us not having enough ships?"
"The plan is to have Organa's and his allies gather together enough ships for everyone to escape on, all eighty-seven thousand of you," F answers. "It'll be difficult under an Imperial onslaught but not impossible. Each resistance group will return to their homeworlds or systems to continue the fight against tyranny."
"Won't the Empire be suspicious of the extra ships or where they'd be coming from?" Kilo asks.
"The Empire doesn't know how large the Insurgency is. For all they know, they underestimated our size. And though our allies will be forced to cut all ties for the foreseeable future, they're determined to pull off gathering the necessary ships by means that won't get them caught."
"But can you guarantee us they'll fulfill this promise?" Serrera asks
"...no, I can't," F said honestly.
"And from there, we'll be left to fend for ourselves," Klo mutters.
"Yes, but the Empire can't track down and destroy you if you scatter yourselves across the galaxy. They'll be forced into a slow and arduous war. Some cells will survive, some won't, and some new ones will form. However, all will be crucial to weakening the empire." F then gives the last of her thoughts, "the way I see it, you can either stay huddled up in this base until your ship has arrived, or you go out and work together one last time."
Whispers grew among the leaders as F laid out the last of their plans and options. Some still look at her with worry, while others seem more trusting than when she entered. After convening on the matter, Saw spoke for the group, "this coalition is no longer beneficial to all parties. The Insurgency is over…but not without one last fight. Just give the order, Jedi, and we'll fulfill it."
F breathes a sigh of relief, "my first order is to erase any record connecting us with the Core Worlds and begin repairing the docking bays and Ion Cannon."
With their orders, each of the factions leaves.
"The faster I get away from these Jedi and Partisans, the better," Anto mumbles.
"The feeling's mutual, you oxen fool," Saw remarks.
"Oxen?!" Anto shouts before shoving Saw aside and walking away.
F meets Saw outside the room, feeling a headache set in from the arguing and demeaning comments. "You're a stronger person than I," Saw told her, "I'd probably have shot people who made some of those comments."
"Just be sure my soldiers and I are posted away from people like Anto," she requests.
Red soon returns and informs her, "Commander, the 'hostages' are ready to send a message."
'This is gonna be a long day,' F tiredly thought before following Red.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/
[Rendili] - [Core Rim]
Frost enters the room where an important matter is being reviewed.
Montar stands beside holograms of Moff Tarkin and Lord Vader, diligently watching a new message found in Mon Mothma and Riyo Chu-Chi's estates. It was of a hooded Jedi with a mask, standing before two rows of seemingly scared hostages. Insurgents hold blasters to their heads, frightening the hostages, mostly aid workers and doctors. "...and those are my demands, you traitors," F states, "your apathy to the Jedi's destruction has forced me to come to this. Pay our ransom of one million unmarked credits or…." F raises her hand, and Montar gasps as one of the doctors begins gasping for air, "your people will begin to suffer the way we have suffered."
F lets him go, "do not test my patience," she said before ending the message.
"An unusual action for a Jedi," Tarkin observes.
"The dark side is a tempting power for any Jedi," Vader said, "this one appears to hold great darkness within them."
"I believe I know who this is," Montar says with a proud smile, "it seems my forces have whittled down their morale, and they've foolishly roped in the Insurgency to their inevitable downfall."
"You knew of this Jedi?" Vader asks.
"They've been the thorn to the Core Worlds for the past few months, but I will ensure this will be their last act of terror," Montar vows.
"Very well," Tarkin said with a nod, "and from what I heard, Lord Vader, even the Emperor has deemed your previous proposal foolish. Especially after reviewing this message."
"Watch your tongue, Tarkin," Vader warns, "in due time, I'll be the one to present another Jedi corpse to his throne."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll appreciate that," Tarkin says, rolling his eyes.
"Another?" Montar asks.
"Indeed. Vader and I also stumbled upon reports of a Jedi on Mon Cala. It seems they are beginning to strike back. We can not allow this, Commodore. Destroy this Insurgent Jedi, and order will finally arrive at the core rim, perhaps even with a new admiral."
Montar smiles, hungry for a new promotion, and bows his head, "I would be honored, sir. I won't let you down."
"You better," Tarkin threatens, "but if I need some insurance, I had Vader assign one of his underlings to aid in your Jedi hunt."
Montar flinches back, "W-what do you mean?"
"You'll see soon enough, Commodore," Vader said, "eradicate the Jedi, or you'll go down with them."
The meeting ends, and before Montar can further ponder this meaning, his personal officer walks in with a new, looming figure. The armored warrior entered with a dark helmet and black robes. Frost and Montar feel the room suddenly turn cold from the Inquisitor's presence.
"S-sir, this is the 13th Sister. She claims to be sent by Lord Vader himself," Montar's officer nervously states.
"Get out," the dark Jedi told the young officer.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but only Montar can order me to–"
SNAP!
In a blink of an eye, Frost and Montar look in shock as the officer's neck snaps like a stick by the Inquisitor's force power. The poor woman falls lifelessly to the Inquisitor's boots. The 13th Sister steps over the corpse walking up to Montar.
"What the–?!" Frost gasps.
"She should've listened," the 13th sister shrugs. She clenches her hand, using the dark side to lift Montar, slamming him against the wall. "Now you will listen," she said, "this mission is more important to me than you could imagine. You do your job eradicating these insurgents, and I'll kill the Jedi."
"Of…of course," Montar gasps, feeling his whole body tremble from such power.
"And if you or any of your men get in my way or annoy me as she did, I have full authority to terminate your service. Permanently."
"Ack-Acknowledged! Just please let me go!"
The young inquisitor does, watching Montar aching in pain from the force. "Now do your job and ready your forces," she states, turning around to leave when she notices Frost staring at her. "What are you looking at, clone?" she asks eerily, but Frost remains silent, knowing well not to repeat the dead officer's mistake. "At least one of you seems smart," the inquisitor mumbles before returning to her chambers.
Once alone, the inquisitor takes out a holo-projector, the person on the other end being a woman cloaked in darkness. The dark lady asks, "Sidious's apprentice hasn't sensed any disturbance behind your loyalty, right?
"Indeed, my lady. I've sensed Vader's dark mind clouded by immense guilt and anger."
"Your unique power proves itself once more, Acolyte. Have you seen the message?"
"I have, my lady. However, none of what they wore matches your description yet. Are you certain this Jedi is one you know?"
"That's what you're there to figure out," the dark lady responds, "look for a yellow lightsaber, fashioned like a traditional sword and held by a Jedi with blue eyes. I want you to find them…and end them."
"Anything to learn your power, my Lady," the inquisitor vows with a sinister smile.
A/N: First chapter of 2023...finally done! Also, in case you're wondering, F later congratulates that one doctor for his performance of being faked choked. Pretty convincing. To put into perspective this fictional event's scale to real-world examples. The number of troops needing to be evacuated, 86,000+, is based on the number of evacuees saved during the Korean War in the 1950s over ten days.
Now, I've spoken before of how this went through heavy rewrites, and yeah, this was perhaps the more reworked episode yet. In case anybody is interested, this original opening was going to be on Rendili with F, Red, and Patricia conducting a quick bombing of an Imperial Factory. This was replaced with the hostage plan as F's way of drawing the Imperial's attention, and then everything else would happen the same way it did here. However, the whole opening didn't do it for me. I stared at that page for days until I gave up and looked for an alternative.
That's when I came up with an opening, and writing this instantly became easier. Anyway, we're almost done with this 1st saga. Once completed, the next saga will answer long-awaited questions about our titular character. Now we begin an age-old star wars tradition and begin our largest battle yet! Who will live, and who will die?