Odessen
Official Quarters
0200 Hours

Zolah found a kindred spirit in Malavai Quinn. He worked tirelessly, often joining her in the sitting room after hours to complete some report or another. Though the man never complained, and his intellect was astounding, Zolah got the impression that few tolerated his company as well as she and Vector. Quinn had become one of the few people allowed into Zolah's inner sanctum, and Vector kept them supplied with fresh tea and snacks while they worked.

The flirting surprised Zolah. Quinn didn't aim his affections, stilted though they were, towards her, but at Vector. Even now, while Zolah pretended to be engrossed in her task, Vector leaned over the chair that Quinn occupied and pointed out something in the man's report. Quiet words exchanged, and Quinn corrected the error. It was like watching the graceful dance of two birds, each displaying colorful plumage while being wary of a reproachful peck.

Zolah bit back a smile and tucked her knees closer to her chest so that she could hide behind her datapad. She vowed to stay out of their courtship and let whatever happened do so naturally. Zolah enjoyed having the Imperial around. He was a breath of fresh air in the anarchy that had overtaken the Alliance. Republic chaos infected most of the soldiers who'd joined from the Empire, leaving Zolah with few options for intelligent conversation.

In days, Malavai had streamlined the usage of certain, innocuous materials and increased overall productivity by more than fifteen percent. Not a large number in the grand scheme of the Alliance, but the engineers in waste management were overjoyed with the decrease in their workload. Zolah made a note on the side window of her datapad to thank Empress Acina for her excellent choice in aid.

Vector's comm buzzed, halting the low murmur of conversation. Zolah sat forward while he fished it out, then her heart skipped several beats when Theron's profile appeared above the viewing platform. Scrambling from her chair, Zolah hurried to Vector's side so that she could see their lover for herself. "Where the hell have you been?"

The words were harsher than Zolah intended, but Theron laughed and ran dirty fingers through his hair. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Silently, Quinn stood, tipped his torso in a bow, and exited the room. Zolah stole a look at her husband to see if he'd noticed, but Vector was fixated on Theron. "We've been worried," the Joiner said, lowering himself into the chair that Quinn had vacated. "It's been weeks."

"Has it?" Theron looked behind him, shoving Pierce out of the shot when the soldier crowded in. He muttered something after the man, then looked back at Vector. "It hasn't been as long for us... I don't think. Iokath doesn't have a sun or any means of keeping track of time. I'll explain everything when I get home. Don't suppose you'd be willing to have some caf and food ready for everyone?"

Vector nodded. "We'll see it done. Perhaps a hot shower would be in order too?"

Theron groaned. "That sounds amazing." Looking behind him, the former spy lowered his voice. "I wouldn't mind some company either."

The relief in Vector's smile warmed Zolah. She calculated whether or not she could join them while the men talked. It would be close, but if Theron contacted Fynta, and she and Vector split the rest, there might be a ten-minute window in her day to enjoy Theron's safe return.

Once the men had finished their reunion, Zolah snatched the comm from her husband. "Did you retrieve the Gravestone? What about Vaylin? Were there any casualties?"

Hazel eyes rolled towards the ceiling as Theron counted off on his fingers. "Yes. Escaped. And, SCORPIO. It's, ah, part of the long story. She won't be bothering us anymore, though."

SCORPIO as a casualty gave Zolah pause. She'd fooled them once into believing that she'd been destroyed and Zolah almost didn't stop herself from asking what made Theron so sure this time. It could wait. Now that she knew that the team was en route and relatively safe, her mind turned to the most important question. "How long until you get home?"

Odessen
Alliance Base
Commander's Quarters
0400 Hours

Aric woke with a grunt when something heavy landed on his stomach. He blinked the sleep away until the figure standing over him resolved into an irate Shillet. The memory of the night before flooded back so quickly that Jorgan nearly bolted from the bed to hug her. Only the dubious recollection of righting his clothing kept him beneath the blanket.

"This won't shut up." Shillet jabbed a green finger at Aric's lap where his comm had fallen when he sat up. "Next time, take it with you." She spun on her heel, head tresses fanning out, and started back down the stairs. Being uprooted and smuggled to a secret base on the other side of the galaxy didn't appear to have broken her spirit. It was oddly reassuring.

Aric jumped when the comm buzzed again, but Fynta snagged it before his mind cleared enough to act. "Wolfe," she yawned, checking the time on her wristchrono. "Shab, Theron, the sun's not even up."

"Yeah well, wait until you hear about the night I had." The spy's gruff tone registered with Fynta at the same time as Jorgan. Theron Shan, who had been missing for nearly three weeks, slumped against a wall looking like sleep hadn't been a part of his absence. "We'll be planetside in thirty minutes. Meet me there so that I don't have to explain everything again."

"Already on the way," Fynta answered, tossing the comm to Jorgan when she threw the blanket back. Jorgan grabbed his eye patch, disconnected the call, then followed his wife. Gathering his under armour, Aric moved into the bathroom to change in case Shillet decided to make another surprise appearance. He left the door cracked so that he could keep an ear on the conversation while Fynta went down a list of contacts.

Fynta moved around the room, collecting various items while relaying instructions to Notiac. "Round up what's left of the war council, I'll call Verin." She yanked a shirt over her head. "Let's get in touch with Felix's girl too."

"Is everyone well?" The Jedi asked with a calm that Jorgan couldn't have managed. Her relationship with Lana was no secret, and the Sith had been among the missing, not to mention her ties with Iresso and Master Vaa. Jorgan realized that Notiac might have the most to lose of anyone on the council now.

Fynta shook her head. "No idea. Theron looked wrung out, but—can you feel anything wrong on the ship?"

"There is…" Notiac trailed off, then sighed. "I count enough life forces, but something feels off."

"Noted, I'll see you soon. Thanks, Master Carlo." Fynta ended the call and met Jorgan's gaze as he exited the fresher. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, grimacing when her fingers snagged in the tangles from their lovemaking. While she searched for her brush, Fynta looked over her shoulder. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Crossing the room, Jorgan placed his hands on Fynta's hips. "Remember what we talked about last night." She nodded, and Aric kissed her hair. "I'm going to check on Shillet."

The lights were still out, but instead of the couch as expected, Jorgan found his daughter buried beneath a fort of pillows and blankets. He left Fynta to deal with rounding up the war council and knocked on the wooden table. "Anyone home?"

"Whatever."

Aric lowered to his knees and poked his head into the fort. "This is nice."

Shillet managed an impressive eye roll and continued staring at her datapad. It was new, one of the many that Hylo had acquired on her last run, debugged and untraceable. "I guess you're going now?"

Aric couldn't fit inside the makeshift dwelling, so he settled on his stomach with only his head and shoulders poking through. "It's still my job, kiddo. We're just going to a meeting."

"I understand," Shillet answered with an unconvincing shrug. "I'm not mad, really."

"Then what's bugging you?" Aric knew better than to play word games. He was shit at them, and the teenage girl could talk circles around him.

Shillet finally looked up, then reached out to run her fingers along the strap that held Jorgan's eyepatch in place. "This will get you killed."

"I won't let that happen." Fynta's face appeared in a gap at the top of Shillet's fort. She winked at the girl before slapping Aric's ass. "Come out here, both of you. I've got a surprise."

Aric and Shillet shared a glance, then he backed out while she followed. Fynta stood behind the sofa, a box in each hand, wearing a self-satisfied grin. She waited until both stood before her, then crossed her arms to offer her gifts. "I called in a few favors, perks of being the boss."

Shillet's box was larger than Aric's, and he nodded for her to open it, just as curious about the contents as the girl. Shillet tore off the lid, then broke into a wide grin that displayed her flat teeth. "This is for me?" Aric cast a cautious look at his wife while Shillet lifted a familiar helmet out. It was the one Fynta had worn in the swamp when he'd joined the Alliance. Seeing it again stole the air from his lungs.

Fynta held out her hands. "It's a custom in my culture to pass armor on to the next generation. I don't know when I'll be able to get my hands on proper beskar again, so this will have to do until then." She lowered the helmet, clearly modified to accommodate a Nautolan's head tresses, over Shillet's face. "When I get back, we'll go see that old witch in the woods to have it properly fitted. Until then, you'll be able to access video and comm feeds when we allow it."

Patting the top of the helmet, Fynta nodded in approval. "That way, we'll always be in contact."

Aric wanted to launch into a speech about how there would be no video feeds while in combat and if they ignored her call, she shouldn't worry. But, Shillet was smarter than that, and Fynta knew it. Giving their daughter a method of communication might ease her mind enough to avoid using it. Judging by the softness in Shillet's eyes, it had been the right call.

"Now, for you." Fynta waved at the box still in Jorgan's hands. He pressed his thumb to the bio-lock and squinted inside at the glint of metal. Fishing it out, Aric's brows lifted at the lightweight eyepatch dangling from his fingers. Instead of leather and cloth like his current one, this one featured tech. Expensive judging by the lack of weight.

"Try it on," Fynta urged, turning to take the stairs two at a time. He watched her, torn between asking what was going on and simply following orders.

In the end, Jorgan pulled the leather cover over his head and tossed the old patch to Shillet. He slid the new one into place with practiced ease. The band around his head tightened automatically, followed by a beep and the gentle whir of programs warming up. His wife flounced down the stairs with his sniper rifle in hand.

"Hope you don't mind that I borrowed this while you were recovering." Fynta held it out, bouncing with pent up energy. "Press the blue button."

Aric's breath caught when light flooded his dead eye. Shadows appeared, morphing steadily into the sort of shapes one might see through night vision. He took in the room, noting the way Fynta's eyes shone while Shillet's looked like dark pits. "Look through your scope," Fyna suggested.

Lifting the rifle to his shoulder, Aric took comfort in the familiar feel of the stock against his cheek. His right eye lined up with the optics, then fit into place as the eyepatch and scope met. The rifle vibrated, words sprinting across the screen to inform Jorgan that the patch was calibrating data. A second later, all the information he needed to line up a shot superimposed itself over the muted, green image. He could see. Better still, he could shoot.

Aric lowered the rifle and pulled Fynta into a crushing hug. He wanted to thank her, but there were no words for the gift that she'd given him. Within a single solar cycle, the woman returned his daughter and his sight. Jorgan pressed his face into her hair while he fought emotions he couldn't contain.

Fynta kissed his neck with a smile, pulling away only when Jorgan loosened his hold. She looked around the room and sighed. "Ready to go see what fresh hell Theron's brought us?"

Mandalorian Transport Vessel
The Birikad

"One more word out of you, and you'll find my boot so far up your—"

"Having trouble wrangling the kids, love?" Keshal gazed at Verin from the holo in his hand, not bothering to hide her smirk. The woman was enjoying his irritation more than she had any right to. He almost snapped back, but chose to err on the side of being a decent husband.

Verin gestured at the boy who'd slipped away while he was distracted. "Did anyone do a headcount? Think they'll notice if I arrive on Odessen minus a few?"

Keshal chuckled, then cooed at baby Jodi. The sight of his wife and daughter cooled Verin's rage enough to take a breath. Torian had asked him to get some of the local youth away from camp for a bit. They could experience what it meant to work as a part of a greater force, learning discipline from beings of other walks of life. Verin agreed with it, in theory. If only he hadn't been the di'kut stuck transporting them.

Rubbing a hand down his face, Verin checked the chrono. "We'll be on Odessen by this time tomorrow, and then these kids are Torian's problem. I've paid my debt to the clan." Now that the alor was accounted for, Verin had every intention of making the man take over his unruly verd'ika.

Keshal snorted, and Verin affected a wounded gasp. "You disagree?" It wasn't a real argument, but trading innocent barbs with his wife took Verin's mind off the disaster that awaited him in the mess hall. One of them—no one had claimed responsibility yet—had begun a food fight and the chefs were out for blood. Verin had nearly reached the point of letting them have it and seeing who was left standing at the end.

"Speaking of which," Keshal said, interrupting the new head of steam that Verin had been building. "Where is our son? He hasn't answered his holo in hours."

Verin decided not to point out that Tranx was on a tour with his fiancée and therefore had no desire to speak to his mother at the top of every hour. Instead, he sighed and kept walking. "I'll find him. Thankfully, he wasn't involved in the Great Mess, as they're calling it." Verin would have gotten a personal visit from the captain had his ilk been present.

"Did you ever tell your sister that you were coming for a visit?" Keshal shifted Jodi onto the table. The baby was heavy, well nourished by breasts that Verin hadn't seen for nearly two weeks. He sighed and asked himself again why he'd agreed to Torian's suggestion.

Pushing those thoughts away before they could take root, Verin forced a devious grin. "Nope, and not going to. I'd say Fynta deserves a surprise visit from her big brother." Fynta hated surprises, and Verin couldn't wait.

"Go easy on her," Keshal tisked, but her smile took the authenticity out of it. "She's just become a mother. That's a lot to adjust to."

"And what better way than to heap on seven bored mand'ika?" Verin turned a corner towards the barracks in search of his son. "It'll be good for Shillet to see her heritage up close. And, maybe give Tranx something to do besides mooning over Zula."

Keshal threw her head back and laughed. "Unlikely, he spends too much time with his father."

Verin grinned, then stopped when he heard a noise from the locker room. Rolling his eyes, he whispered to Keshal. "Hold on, riduur." He gripped the handle and yanked the door open with enough force to startle the occupants within.

Tranx and Zula sprang apart, patting hair down and rubbing at lips to hide the evidence of what had been a passionate kiss. Verin sighed, then looked at the holo. "I found your son."

"No, you don't get to call him my son when he's sneaking off with girls." Keshal jabbed a finger at Verin. Jodi babbled too, adding to her mother's accusation. With a warm smile for the babe, Kashel laughed. "Good luck, riduur. We'll talk soon." The call ended, leaving Verin alone with two teens and awkward silence.

"We were just—" Verin held one hand up to stop Tranx's explanation. The boy, now a full head taller than Verin and starting to pack on muscle, rubbed the back of his neck. Zula's cheeks flared a vivid red against her pale skin, but she glared at Verin in defiance.

For his part, Verin tried to keep a straight face. He couldn't be mad; they'd be married in a few months. Of course, had he been in Tranx's shoes, they wouldn't have been caught. Verin supposed he should be grateful for the boy's lack of imagination. Odessen might cause more problems, but at what point should Verin treat Tranx like the man their custom declared him to be? It was a fine line that he hadn't found the end of yet.

Shaking his head, Verin waved the two out of their sanctuary. "Come on, we've got clean-up duty in the mess hall." At least there, Verin could keep an eye on everyone for a couple of hours before they scattered again.

"Oh, and call your mother, boy. She wants a word." Verin heard a squeak at his back as he started down the hall and smiled. Let Keshal put the fear of Ka'ra into them. He had bigger problems to deal with.

Odessen
War Room
Administrative Conference Room

Fynta paused outside the meeting room, staring at Koth's ass where he bent to look around the corner. Silencing her footsteps, she leaned close enough to whisper in the pilot's ear. "Whatcha doing?"

Koth jerked upright with an unmanly squawk and clutched at his chest. The panic left his dark eyes the moment he realized who Fynta was. "Damn it, woman. Don't do that to me."

Fynta laughed harder than she had in weeks, bracing one hand against the wall he'd been sheltered behind. "You're not hiding from your girlfriend, are you?" She asked once she could breathe again. Hirani was going to be furious with the man for vanishing, only because she was too emotionally stunted to express how scared she'd been of losing him.

"He is," Felix called, unwrapping his arm from around his girlfriend's shoulders. The engineer's fingers tightened in Felix's shirt for a second before releasing. Fynta fought back the guilt that she hadn't been involved with this latest disaster, either the ones who went missing or the family left behind.

"Am not," Koth snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets. The man's outburst gave Fynta's thoughts a new direction to go before she could slide into self-doubt. He rocked back on his heels. "Just giving her space. Someone said that she was in the maintenance bay, and Hirani doesn't like to be interrupted when she's working on her ship."

Fynta tweaked Koth's nose. "That, and she might be holding something heavy to swing at your head." The man snorted a laugh and nodded in agreement. Fynta rolled her eyes. "Stop being a coward. She missed you."

"Not yet," Koth muttered as Master Carlo stepped out of the meeting room.

The Jedi Master commanded everyone's attention any time she entered a room. Even without eyes to convey her emotions, the woman's face lit with a smile as she walked to Felix. "I thought I felt your presence."

Felix accepted the Jedi's hands and kissed the back of each one. "Everyone made it home." Nyo'a gripped the older woman's shoulder, tipped her head to Fynta and Koth, then promised to catch up with Felix once his meeting was over. Fynta watched the woman leave, vaguely wondering who she was on the way to chastise for their poor management of her base equipment. The normality of it made her smile.

Notiac pulled Felix into a tight hug. "I'm so relieved that you made it home safely, my old friend." When she released him, it was to touch his face, neck, and shoulders. "You weren't injured?"

"Not a scratch," Felix promised.

"Not from the mission, at least," Pierce added as he swept past. The Imperial soldier rammed his shoulder into Felix with a wicked chuckle.

Felix opened his mouth to reply, but Notiac clucked her tongue. "Don't react, it'll only encourage him." She smoothed down his shirt like a mother preparing her child for school. Fynta left them to catch up, continuing into the room. She'd just crossed the threshold when Pierce's barked laughter brought her up short.

"Well fuck me sideways," Pierce shouted, tucking his thumbs in his belt. "If it isn't old stick-up-his-ass-Quinn."

The Major stood on the other side of the table, his back to the door while he spoke in low tones with Vector, Zolah, and Theron. Fynta noted the stiffening of his spine and remembered Zolah warning her that their latest officer had traveled with Kozen's crew years ago.

Slowly, Quinn turned to offer Pierce a polite nod. "It's been a while since I've heard your dulcet tones, Pierce. How are you?" The words could have been made of durasteel for all the emotion they carried.

Pierce folded his arms, chuckling as he scanned his former comrade. Vette flounced in, chattering with Lana, then stopped mid-word. "Quinn?" Whatever Pierce had planned on adding was drowned in the Twi'lek's joyous exclamation. She all but bounced a circle around the man, poking at the white streaks coloring his sideburns. "About time you stopped dying your hair. This is more dignified."

Red spilled over Quinn's cheeks, though Vette didn't seem to notice. She stopped in front of him and grinned. "It looks good on you."

Quinn managed a tilt of his head. "Thank you, Vette." Fynta noted the white knuckle grip on his datapad and started forward.

"Imagine," Pierce picked up, ignoring the tiny woman standing between him and what Fynta realized was his target. "Of all the places in the galaxy, you had to wander onto my turf."

"Technically," Fynta replied, pulling even with the group and positioning herself by Quinn's side so that she could crane her neck at Pierce. "He's on my turf, with the full backing of Empress Acina. Keep that in mind before starting osik."

Pierce lifted his hands. "Yeah, I hear you." Still, his smirk didn't relent. "But watch this one, boss. We've got history."

"Go sit your ass down, Pierce," Fynta snapped. She wasn't sure how serious of a threat it was until a subtle nod from Zolah confirmed the worst. Fynta resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.

The man chuckled and left to find someone else to harass. Fynta glanced at Quinn, who let out a low breath. Before she could comment, he spoke in quieted tones. "Perhaps we should have that drink, after all, Commander."

"How does after the meeting?" Fynta asked, letting the note of inevitability ride on her voice. Quinn nodded, a curt movement that made Fynta think of someone who'd just been given a terminal diagnosis. She clapped him on the back to take some of the sting out of her words, then leaned around to find Zolah watching. "How about you guys? Fancy a drink later? I get the impression that Quinn wouldn't mind some backup."

Quinn looked startled, but Zolah answered with a wide grin. "I wouldn't miss it."

When Fynta turned, she found herself staring into the yellow glare of the former Wrath. Kaeto had a hand on his arm, and Fynta got the impression that it wasn't for comfort. She made a mental note to keep someone near Quinn at all times. At least, until she understood the depth of his relationship with the Sith.

Jorgan wandered into the meeting room as Zolah called everyone to order. Chairs scraped across the floor while people settled in for what promised to be a long briefing, while others positioned themselves against the walls. Theron stood at the head of the table and tapped on his datapad. The holoconsole bolted to the center flickered to life with a model of a planet unlike anything Fynta had seen before.

Waving his hand, Theron made introductions. "Everyone, meet Iokath. It's a supercomputer the size of a planet, to put it simply, and completely automated." He paused, one finger aloft. "It's also got a worse superiority complex than SCORPIO."

"And eats ships," Koth added, glaring at the ceiling with arms folded across his body. Fynta made another mental note to ask about the Gravestone's wellbeing, if only to stay on the pilot's good side.

"Where did it come from?" Notiac asked, cutting to the point. She stood at the back of the room, hands clasped before her and head titled as if listening to the universe. Fynta often wondered how holo projections translated to a Miraluka, but hadn't found an excuse to ask.

Lana answered this time. "We don't know. There is evidence of a biological population once. Thousands of coffins that we believe were meant to be cryopods. They either malfunctioned or were sabotaged centuries ago. The civilization left behind the machines, who created a society of their own. SCORPIO made contact with an advanced AI who called himself ARIES and considered her inferior. I'm afraid I don't know how to describe the rest."

Images, some still shots, others short videos, played across the table. "I took these whenever we weren't fighting for our lives," Theron added. It looked like a tropical paradise had grown over a duracrete jungle from the past. There were stills of the various forms of machines too, and another video that recorded one of the battles.

Fynta gave a low whistle. "Okay, first question, how did you get out of there?"

Theron grinned. "You're going to like this—Vette?"

A schematic shimmered into existence, and Vette bounced onto the table. Several members of the council lifted their mugs of caf out of the Twi'lek's path while she walked across the surface; no one appeared surprised. "This looks like your average mech, right?" The Twi'lek motioned at Theron, and the figure grew until it was brushing the ceiling. Vette squatted to point out the smaller figures near its feet. "That's us. This thing was massive, and I don't think it's the only one on that planet."

"It was destroyed during our escape," Torian added. He was standing too, arms folded with comm in hand. Fynta wondered if he was waiting on a call, and if it was something she needed to be concerned about. She'd informed Verin that their chief was safe, but maybe they hadn't spoken yet. Or, he was waiting for Noara to return from the creche. Fynta had heard that the reception in the lowest rooms of the base was osik.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Torian's lips when he met Fynta's gaze. "Shame you weren't there, it was a lot of fun to pilot."

Fynta cursed inwardly, but Theron pulled her attention away from the missed opportunity. "There is a lot that we don't understand about this planet, but Vaylin was there too. It imprisoned her, and now she's got a score to settle. If she conquers this world, there is no telling what sort of weaponry she'll possess."

"So, you're saying you want to go on the offensive?" Aric asked. He'd leaned forward, elbow propped on his crossed knee and chin in hand. Fynta saw the trepidation in his eyes; the hardness that begged Theron not to draw them into another fight. "Against an advanced, alien tech that we know nothing about. That sounds a lot like the start of the war with Zakuul."

"Except no one knew Zakuul existed until they struck," Felix added. He shook his head. "There was something about Iokath that felt alive. I can't explain it, but even if Vaylin doesn't go back, we need to keep an eye on it. I don't think it knew that the rest of the galaxy existed before we stumbled in."

Aric nodded and leaned back in his seat while Theron continued. "I'm fine with monitoring it for now, but there needs to be a plan in place for if it becomes hostile towards the rest of the galaxy and—" He cut a glance at Zolah, who nodded. "We need to keep it off the Empire and Republic's radar."

A wave of agreement swept through the room as the meeting descended into numbers and possible outcomes. Hours later, Fynta was mid-yawn when she realized that she'd been flanked by every Force user on the council plus Theron. Lowering her arms, Fynta looked at each of them before speaking. "It wasn't me."

Kaeto chuckled, but the rest looked unmoved. The Togruta lowered herself until she was even with Fynta's chair. "There is more that we could not discuss in front of everyone. Kozen and I had a vision that involved Valkorion and Vaylin. It can not wait."

Sitting up, Fynta nodded. "Alright. Let me handle this situation with Quinn, then we'll meet aboard the Thunderclap, agreed?"

Kozen's lips pressed into a thin line, but Lana nodded. "Agreed. I'll set up a jamming frequency. It might be imperative to invite Zolah and Vector as well. Anyone who knows of your connection to the emperor would benefit from this knowledge."

The group dispersed, leaving Fynta with a sense of dread. Not even a full solar rotation and the next thing had already come up. She caught Zolah's gaze and nodded towards the door. Best to square Quinn away before leaping into the next, big catastrophe.