To the six of you who follow this and actually look forward to new chapters, I thank you for your patience. I apologize for the long wait.

Rigid as a statue, Moff Toffee observed the battle on the landing pad below from the flight control deck of Skywynne Airbase.

Clad in specialized, black-colored stealth armor manufactured in the new Imperial factory constructed behind the airbase, utilizing weapons designed by the Septarian Moff himself, the opponents dealt blows against the other with increasing ferocity. One combatant was the highest-ranked officer of Toffee's secret super-commandos, the other, the most recent trainee. The rookie wielded an electrostaff, a more sophisticated and refined version than those used by the Separatist's Magnaguards. The commander, on the other hand, held a fearsome electrohammer. One vertical half of the heavy weapon was almost entirely handle, while the other half, as well as both ends, were edged with crackling electroblades.

These specialized commandos Toffee had created were equipped with these unusual melee weapons instead of blasters for one very specific reason: They were designed for use in combat against lightsaber wielders. To put it simply, these troopers were outfitted for the express purpose of hunting and killing Jedi.

Toffee had bestowed them the designation "purge troopers."

The Moff watched the duel with interest. The rookie, the most recent trooper to complete the intensive training, had some decent skill with his electrostaff. But his defenses were crumbling under the crushing blows dealt by the commander. It was quite obvious that he was quickly tiring.

The commander was a strange being to say the least. Toffee had not expected a Mewman from the ranks of the captured natives to volunteer for his secret project. He expected that this Mewman must have held some beef with the Butterfly family, as the opportunity for selection was offered to the enslaved workers with the opening pitch that the new soliders' first assignment would be to track down Star Butterfly and her companions. That turned out not to be (strictly) the case. On the contrary, this Mewman had a burning hatred for the Jedi.

The woman had once given birth to a boy, a boy whom she had loved and cherished and swore was a gift from the Force itself. But the Force…the child was strong with the Force. Before he had even turned two years old, the Jedi came for him.

She'd been sad, but proud. Her son would grow up to be a protector of the Republic. But now…

…now he was dead.

Toffee watched as the purge trooper commander swung her electrohammer into the deck with devastating power, the weapon's charge dispersing into a rippling shockwave as it contacted the duracrete. The rookie was knocked off his feet, his electrostaff flying from his grip as he crashed to the ground hard on his back. The commander raced forward, electrohammer raised above her head as she jumped toward her opponent, prepared to swing it down with a crushing final blow-

Toffee raised a small trigger device and clicked the control, deactivating the commander's weapon. When the electrohammer came down, it still made contact with the rookie's helmet, but without its electrical charge, the blow was deflected.

"Enough." Toffee's voice reached the combatants through the PA speakers. "The victory is yours, commander."

The commander nodded toward the windows of the flight control deck, and without another word, turned and stalked toward the door beneath the flight control deck windows.

"TL-61," Toffee said, addressing the rookie purge trooper still lying on the ground. "Do you require medical attention?"

The trooper slowly rose to a sitting position. After a moment, it shook its head no.

"Good. Return to your barracks and rest. You will spar again in two hours."

Toffee switched off the PA as the sound of the door sliding open behind him announced the arrival of the purge trooper commander to the control deck. She leaned her electrohammer against the wall and strode over to Toffee's side. The Septarian was still watching the rookie walk off to the barracks, holding a hand to his helmet as if his head were in great pain. "It would be much appreciated if you would stop trying to kill your comrades during these sparring matches," Toffee said calmly, not sparing the commander so much as a glance. "I asked you to help improve their skills, not to put my new elite soldiers at risk of injury or death."

"HA!" The commander laughed. "You asked for tough soldiers! I'm makin' 'em tough! You think the Jedi are gonna hold back when we show up to bash in their skulls?"

"They'll never get the opportunity to face a Jedi if they die by your hand in training, Commander Loveberry, and I cannot be present for every single sparring match to stop you." Toffee finally turned to face the purge trooper commander. "Have I made my point, or do you require further explanation?"

"…No, Sir."

"Then for now, you are dismissed."


"Everything is gonna be fine. Just relax…Stay calm."

"Dude, I am calm," Janna said, her voice, like Rosado's, electronically broadcast from the stormtrooper helmet shielding her head. "I couldn't be any calmer."

"Oh, I wasn't saying that to you. I was saying it to myself."

The pair walked up the dirt road toward the Imperial factory side-by-side, carrying the blaster rifles which matched their captured armor. Despite being merely a factory, even Janna had to admit that the huge building was far more intimidating up close than it was through a pair of macrobinoculars.

"Why are you so nervous?" Janna asked incredulously. "Of the two of us, you're the one who actually used to be an Imperial."

"Yeah, but do you have any idea what they'll do to me if they find out I'm me?"

Janna wanted to give a snarky reply, but they were nearly to the main entrance and likely within earshot of the guards, so she kept her mouth shut.

The main entrance was guarded by a pair of stormtroopers, one standing at attention on each side of the large doorway. A third, armor marked by an orange pauldron designating the trooper as a captain, stood waiting to greet (or, more accurately, to intercept) anyone entering the facility. "Hey! You two!" the captain called as Rosado and Janna approached. "What are you two doing on foot? Where's your speeder?"

Rosado froze inside his disguise. He had not even considered that the stormtroopers they'd relieved of their armor might have had a speeder bike. "Um-"

Before her companion could say something that might blow their cover, Janna quickly spoke up. "The repulsors failed. Bike dropped like a rock and won't move."

The stormtrooper nodded. "Ah. I can't say I'm surprised. Dumb T-15s are always breaking down. They're junk."

"They sure are."

Rosado very nearly breathed a sigh of relief when the captain asked, "Why didn't you call in for a pickup?"

Thinking quickly, Rosado said, "My commlink flew out of my hand when the bike crashed and I lost it."

"And mine has been acting up," Janna added. "I think it's got a faulty power cell."

The trooper seemed to buy this, his helmet bobbing up and down as he nodded and thumbed toward the door. "Well, you better go inform the speeder pool."

"Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir."

The faux stormtroopers hurried through the entry way while trying to appear as though they were not hurrying. Rosado heard two soft, electronic beeps which signaled that the scanner they were passing through had not detected anything out of the ordinary. They made their way to the end of a short corridor and through a set of doors that led into a small, enclosed space. Each of the four walls bore an identical set of doors leading to another area of the facility.

"That was some quick thinking back there," said Rosado.

"You too. So we're in, now where to?"

"The officer's mess is probably on the top level in the barracks behind the officer's quarters, so we need to find a lift."

Janna opened the door directly across from the one they had come through. Beyond was the main factory floor, massive and sprawling. Workers bustled about, welding, cutting, operating machinery. Stormtroopers stood watch on balconies that encircled the entire space. In the center of the floor nearly a hundred meters away was a massive walker the likes of which Janna had never seen. It resembled a massive quadruped, it's main structure appearing as distinct body and head sections perched upon four towering legs.

"Hovis? What the heck is that thing?" Janna pointed to the huge walker.

"Oh…remember when I said this factory was pretty boring?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not so boring anymore apparently. That is an All-Terrain Armored Transport, or AT-AT for short. The latest 'obey or else' technology at the Empire's disposal."

"It's uh…big."

"Yeah. I've seen schematics for them, but this is the first time I've seen one in person." Rosado turned away from the doorway and pointed to the ones to the left. "Let's go this way. Stormtroopers don't typically wander the work floor, we'll be less likely to attract attention."

Shutting the door to the factory floor, Janna followed Rosado through the door to the left. The corridor turned to the right up ahead and opened up into a much wider corridor with a ceiling twice as high. At least two dozen speeder bikes were lined up neatly along the back wall opposite a huge door that opened nearly the entire length of the backside of the building. At least a dozen stormtroopers stood in groups of two or three, most of them working on the bikes.

"I guess this is the speeder pool," Janna said. "Heh. The guy at the door did say to come here."

"We should have gone the other way. Come on."

"TK-567! Where is your speeder bike?"

"Kriff," Janna muttered under her breath as she noticed a rather annoyed looking officer hurrying toward them.

"You were issued a speeder bike this morning for patrol," the grumpy-looking middle-aged man said as he reached them, his expression and posture haughty and self-important. "Now you have returned from patrol, where is the speeder?"

"Apologies, Sir." Rosado quickly stood at attention, doing his best to echo the typically monotone inflection of a stormtrooper. "Our bike suffered a mechanical failure and we had to walk back."

To his surprise, the officer's stern expression softened. "Oh. Can't say I'm surprised." He shook his head. "Lousy T-15's. Why didn't you call it in?"

Rosado relayed their earlier tale about commlink mishaps.

"How unfortunate," the officer said with a shrug. "Well, I suppose I'll send out the retrieval team to fetch it. What are the coordinates?" Both faux stormtroopers stiffened, neither knowing how to answer that question. But then, to the complete shock of both, the officer said, "You know what? The bikes have a positioning locator for a reason. I'll find it on the holomap. You two must be tired from your long walk back. Why don't you head to the mess hall and get some grub?"

"Uh, I, er, yes, Sir, thank you," Rosado stammered. He and Janna saluted the officer and quickly hurried away. "That was, without a doubt, the nicest officer I've ever encountered in the Imperial Army."

Janna agreed. "That dude was almost comically friendly."

They retraced their steps back through the door and passed through the door on the opposite side of the central junction. An identical corridor mirrored the one that had led to the speeder pool. At its end was a warehouse. A few inventory droids zipped back and forth between the rows of neatly stacked crates, but the large space was otherwise void of life.

"Storage. Perfect," said Rosado. "There's almost always direct access to storage from the upper levels."

"I don't see any lift in here."

"It's probably at the far end." A plausible explanation, considering the crates blocked their view of the far wall. "Let's go."

Careful to avoid contact with the inventory droids, they wove their way through the storage room. Once the far wall came into view, so did the concave structure molded onto it, a structure which housed a lift tube.

"Bingo. You were right, Hovis."

Rosado nodded. "Let's just be quick once we get up there. Stormtroopers aren't exactly permitted on the upper levels without an express reason."

The lift arrived. Janna slapped her companion on the back. "Let's not waste any time, then."

Rosado took a deep breath and joined her in the lift car.


Tom looked up from his console screen. "Star, can you please stop pacing? You're gonna wear a groove in the deck."

Star spun on her heel and nearly clobbered Marco, who was seated cross-legged on the cockpit floor, with her mechanical arm. "I can't help it, Tom! What if they've been captured?! Or worse?! We should have heard from them by now! We have to go in and rescue them!"

"Star, it's only been like 15 minutes," Marco said.

"…That's it?! It feels like they've been gone forever!"

Tom stood from the copilot's chair and rested a hand on Star's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay, Star. Pony Head is monitoring the Imperial's communications."

The droid bleeped.

"If she hears anything, we'll race to the rescue. But for now, we have to wait."

Star took a deep breath. "You're right."

Tom smiled and resumed his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Besides, this is Janna we're talking about. She could steal the pelt off a wookie without it ever even knowing she was there."


The lift doors slid open to reveal a wide and mostly vacant corridor. A few officers and troopers crossed between rooms, but the area was by no means crowded.

"Okay, this level is the officer's quarters,"

Rosado said quietly. "Now all we have to do is find the officer's mess and hope that the terminal isn't somewhere different at this particular base."

"That would suck."

"Yes, it would."

Janna and Rosado strolled along side-by-side, each trying to match the other's steps along the polished, black tile floor. Turning the corner at the end of the corridor, Rosado spotted what they were looking for: two doors spaced six meters apart signified the "in" and "out" doors of the officer's mess. "There," he said, subtly motioning with his blaster as they walked. He checked his chronometer. "Perfect timing. Second meal should have stopped being served almost forty-five minutes ago, so it should be empty."

They cautiously made their way to the closer of the two doors. Janna stood back to the wall as if standing guard while Rosado peeked into the mess hall. His gaze fell upon an upright terminal at the back corner of the room.

That was the good news.

The bad news was seated at one of the two-dozen tables.

"Kriff."

"What's up? No console?"

"No, it's there. But so is one officer."

"Double kriff. Now what do we do?"

Rosado thought for a moment, his eyes scanning the hallway for inspiration. On the opposite side of the corridor was another door. The door controls only had keys for open and close functions; no disable function, and definitely no clearance code required to open it. That could only mean one thing: Cleaning supplies.

"I have an idea. Wait here. I'll be right back."

Rosado hurried to the supply closet. The instant the door slid out of his way, his mouth curled into a smile beneath his helmet. "Perfect."

Janna wasn't sure what to expect when Rosado left her standing alone, but she definitely was not expecting him to return with a floor buffer.

"What are you gonna do with that? Polish him to death?"

"Just follow my lead."

With no other option but to go with it, Janna followed her companion as he strode confidently into the officer's mess.

The officer looked up from his tablet. "Troopers? What are you two doing in here? This is the officer's mess."

"Yes, Sir," Rosado replied confidently. "We received orders to wax the floor in here, Sir."

The officer raised an eyebrow. "But the floor was just waxed yesterday."

"Waxing detail yesterday used the wrong wax."

Rosado was thankful for Janna's quick thinking interjection, and was inspired to add, "That's right. Wrong wax. Failed to comply with Imperial walking surface frictional coefficient standards."

The officer seemed to agree and gave a slight nod. "I thought the floor seemed a bit too slick." He waved them away with a flick of his hand. "Well, don't mind me. Carry on with your duties."

Janna and Rosado looked at each other, both thinking the same thing: He's really not going to leave?

Still thinking on her feet, Janna motioned for Rosado to follow her. "Let's move the tables, TK-567."

Catching her plan, Rosado hurried to the far end of the nearest table, picked it up, and assisted Janna in carrying it to the far corner, turning it on its side, and leaning it up against the wall. They hoped the officer would get the idea and leave, but he had returned to staring at his tablet, idly sipping a cup of caf and ignoring the pair completely.

So they continued. They moved another table. Then another. Then they moved all of the chairs and stacked them against the wall.

Finally, they reached the table where the officer sat. They started pulling away the chairs, but the officer still didn't move. When all the chairs but the one in which the officer sat had all been neatly stacked, Rosado decided he had better ask him to move. "Excuse me, Sir?"

The officer looked up from his tablet with such surprise, Rosado wondered if he had been sleeping. "Hmm? Yes, trooper?"

"If you don't mind, we'd like to move this table."

The officer looked around, apparently noticing for the first time that all of the tables and chairs in front of him had vanished. "Oh. Apologies, trooper." He stood. "I'll get out of your way so you can do your job."

"Thank you, Sir." Rosado hoped he didn't let any annoyance deep into his tone.

The officer made his way toward the door. "I think I'd better go reprimand the waxing team from yesterday for failing such a simple assignment," he said, tossing his empty caf cup into the trash.

"That's a good idea, Sir," Janna enthusiastically agreed. "Don't let them off too easy."

"Oh, I won't! Believe me, trooper, they'll be on garbage detail for a month for this!"

And with that, the officer left, leaving two very relieved faux stormtroopers behind.

"Thank the Force!" Janna said under her breath as she hurried to close the doors. "I was starting to think he'd never leave!"

"So did I." Rosado was already making his way to the terminal, pulling off the stormtrooper helmet and setting it on the counter space beside the screen. "Wow, I forgot what it's like to be able to see!"

Janna returned to his side, carrying her helmet under her arm. "I know, right? How can these guys see anything out of these dumb helmets?"

The terminal's screen illuminated as Rosado triggered its wake-up sequence and allowed it to scan his face. Accepting that he was in fact not a droid, it prompted him to insert his code cylinder. He clicked it into the receptacle.

"Okay…I'm in. Let's find us a stealth ship…"


TK-402 strolled into the barracks, his on-duty hours over for the day. He pulled off his helmet, placing it on the rack beside his bunk.

"Hello, Private."

402 jumped, whirling around to find Lieutenant Sherrod leaning against the wall behind him. He quickly snapped to attention. "Lieutenant! Apologies, sir, I did not see you there!"

Sherrod flashed a smug grin, ominously stepping closer. "You're in a heap of trouble, trooper."

"Trouble, sir? For what?" 402 was shocked. He never so much as put a toe out of line and followed his orders to the letter.

"You were on floor detail yesterday, correct?"

"Yes, sir?"

The Lieutenant slunk up alongside the nervous stormtrooper, delighting in how uncomfortable the man was. "You used the wrong wax, Private." He leaned close to 402's ear, whispering, "The wrong. Wax."

The trooper frowned. "But I-"

"So now you've been reassigned! Garbage detail. Private, you're gonna be hauling trash until you're blue in the face every day from now until the Rori sun doesn't rise."

"But sir, I-"

"Don't bother trying to talk your way out of it, Private. Your new duties take effect immediately, so I suggest you put that helmet back on and get to work."

"We only have one wax, Sir."

"…What?"

"We've only ever had one wax, Sir. I couldn't have used the wrong wax because there's only one wax to use."

Sherrod squinted. "Did that trooper lie to me…?"

Now TK-402 was confused. "Sir?"

The Lieutenant quickly turned toward the barracks door. "I need to check something. As you were, trooper."