IE XIV: RESTLESS

"Imperial forces remain holding the upperhand of authority during times of unrest on Mon Cala. Its people, swayed by the treacherous thoughts of the Alliance, have grown weary of peaceful order-,"

"Lola has found the town's Stormtrooper! His unwavering look of control shines through dark and night as he keeps guard of the peace around here. Let's ask him if he has seen any footsteps of Mymy the Bogling."

With the faint zaps of HoloVision channels in the background, Eva stares at herself in the damp mirror, naked, as she cleans her teeth with a vibrobrush. Its tiny rod vibrates as she pokes it gently between and over her teeth. With the speeder chase and the gas explosion fresh in her memory, Eva cannot stop seeing it all over again in her own eyes in the reflection. Her eyes slowly drift to the burn wound on her forehead, glimmering in the faint fluorescent light of the refreshing room. The adrenaline has already worn out, but the shivers still remain with each blastershot she remembers.

What happened was so, so unexpected. She thought they were thugs trying to empty the place, but no. They were Rebels. What did Mr Dane owe them? Not a hospital bed, that is for certain.

Eva spits out the toothpaste, flushes her mouth with water, and pulls her panties over her legs and her tank top over her arms. It is deep in the night. Eva should sleep, but even when everything today exhausted her, there is something more important: tomorrow. What is she going to do when sunrise hits? She tries to think but the exhaustion doesn't help as her thoughts drift to nothing.

Eva gazes down at her feet on the cold ceramic tiles, leaning against the sink, and yawns. She almost ruptures her cheek muscles doing so, but she won't let herself sleep until she has figured out what to do next tomorrow. Eva shakes her head and slaps herself on the cheek, trying to get some pain to keep herself awake. Ouch. Okay, stay awake now.

Eva leaves the refreshing room with slumped footsteps and enters the bedroom. She stumbles into the stale air of the motel's room. It is barren and features little—only a double bed, a vidscreen, two chairs and a table, and a small closet. It was the cheapest motel and the cheapest room they could find.

"Nothing on Holo?" Eva asks.

Daxan, lying half-slumped on the double bed with his winter hat still tightly wrapped around his head, shakes his head with the remote in his hand. Mingled between his fingers sits a cigarette, its smoke curling in the air. "No. Except for the children's channel. Lola's Academy is quite good, actually."

Eva smirks thinly as she approaches the bed and drops herself on the hard mattress on her stomach. It feels like a crash on a concrete floor. Eva sighs with disappointment. "And I thought Malstrom had bad beds."

Daxan chuckles. "This one takes the cake, huh?"

Eva hums. After a second or two of blank thoughts, she pushes herself upright with her eyes landing on the vidscreen almost instantly.

The sparkling freckles of Lola are sprinkled around her little face as she reaches out to the giant Stormtrooper towering over her like a giant. The brushed shades of grey implode into the screen with monotony, except for Lola's bright red hair, exploding into Eva's eyes like a solar flare.

"Mr Stormtrooper?" Lola asks. Her voice is like the chirps of a bird. "Have you seen my friend? She is a bunny. Her name is Mymy. I lost her when I was prepping the blasters."

The towering Stormtrooper turns his bulky head to the little girl and bends down a little. "If I have seen your bunny? Hmm…"

Eva shakes her head and points at the screen. "He didn't see anything. Mymy went past him. He only saw a glimpse."

Daxan glances at her as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls in the air. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

Eva shrugs and keeps watching.

The Stormtrooper swivels his bucket. "I thought I saw something like a bunny, though it was in the corner of my eyes…"

Daxan glances at her with a slightly tilted head. "You know this episode from memory, don't you?"

Eva nods. "I watched this all the time when I was eight."

She keeps watching, but the urge of planning out her next steps grows. That is more important than watching Lola finding her pet. She shakes her head. "Put it off, please-, not the pet, the vidscreen."

Daxan smirks and taps the off button of the remote.

Eva takes a deep breath. "Thanks."

Now, back to planning. What should she do tomorrow? Eva closes her eyes, forcing herself to think, but she mostly draws a blank with some puzzle pieces drifting off in her mind. Come on, think of something.

"Trying to think of what to do tomorrow?" Daxan asks.

Eva opens her eyes and nods. "I cannot waste time. I have to plan out our strategy for tomorrow."

Daxan nods and moves his cigarette to her to take. "Want a drag? It always helps me clear my mind."

Eva shakes her head with a smile. "Nah, thank you. I don't smoke. Enjoy."

Daxan hums and moves back his cig. "So, if you want me to help out, better start at what the gentlemen told you about. I'm surely there is something there."

Eva presses her lips. She hesitates since it includes some personal things she would rather keep quiet, but Eva recognises she has to tell him if she wants to make steps. So, Eva tells Daxan about the Artefact, the Padawan, her weapon, the order of knights, and the mysterious Force. Unlike Mr Dane's growing excitement when she told her story, Daxan seems rather nonchalant as if he had heard these things every morning at breakfast.

In the end, Daxan bobs his head up and down, pondering and pondering. "So, we got this super mystical monster, a Jedi. And she wants this Artefact… Okay. What do you want to do to her?"

Eva shrugs. "Kill her, if allowed. Else, capture."

Daxan nods. "Sounds like what you'd do indeed. What do we know of this Jedi?"

Eva gazes at the black vidscreen with a sigh. "Almost nothing," and she ponders. I'll have to understand her if I want to kill her. Yeah, I should start with that—get to know its place, its weaknesses, its origin. Yeah, sounds logical. "We need to understand what we're up against. She has mystical powers, that's what we know, but we have to look further. There must be a weakness we can exploit. There must be something."

Daxan nods. "Jedi. Jedi… I've heard about them. They were just whispers, but what I understood is that they were dangerous, but that they were not invincible."

"Right," Eva responds. Her voice strains. "They have quite the history—existing for millennia and then be wiped out in a single night. There must be something written about them in the library, right?"

"Likely," Daxan responds. "Whether they're available is another thing."

Eva nods. The Empire regulates a lot of media in libraries. She understands why. It can fuel people with the wrong drive of false information. Whether they have something written about them remains the question, but she should at least try. "Yeah. But we should still look. Maybe they overlooked something. We should try the Capital Library."

Daxan's eyes narrow as he thinks over. "Well, that's the one that is likely the most regulated. Maybe we should try a more local library, one where no rat ever comes. There's one at Gaalperlake. It's just outside the ring but quite close. Might be local enough."

That might be better. A local library can possibly be less tightly regulated or inspected by Imperial officers. They might be able to find information there more likely.

Eva agrees. "Yeah. Let's try there."

Daxan nods. "Alright. So that's settled. Second thing in the morning?"

Eva shakes her head. "No, first thing, why?"

"Well, I need to refuel my bike," Daxan responds, "but I guess I can do that after we're done at the library."

Eva nods. Hopefully, she can find information there, at Gaalperlake. If not, it is going to make her fight much harder. The tension rests on her shoulders as Eva clasps her forehead, feeling the stress in her nerves.

"Hey, you're 'right?" Daxan asks.

Eva keeps her face buried in her hands and rubs her eyes. "Just the stress," Eva sighs.

"I'm not surprised," Daxan responds, studying her. "Perhaps you should slow down a little, get distracted for a-,"

"No," Eva snaps. She puts her hands on her lap and glances at him. "I don't have time to slow down. This mission matters to me. I cannot slip."

Daxan presses his lips. He opens his mouth to respond but stops himself. At last, he nods. "Okay. So… library, first thing."

First thing indeed, no question.

Eva pulls the blanket closer to her as the darkness surrounds her. She tries to sleep, but the stress of the mission remains to electrify her nerves and put them on constant alert…

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. A new day…

The next day.

As the fierce sunlight of the morning shines brightly through the white clouds, Peyton's fingers dance over the screen of her datapad. Leaning against the exterior wall of the barracks on the concrete foundation, she runs the final diagnostic with a slightly pounding heart of excitement.

Back in the woods when they were hunting the Twi'lek, Peyton discovered the value of a heat signature sensor on her datapad. If she had that, it would have made the hunt much easier. The sensor would pick up the alien's heat radiation and she would have appeared on her screen as a blob of warmth, hiding among the cold shrubs or the towering trees. It would have been like hunting Tauntauns.

Though she won't be able to use it against the Twi'lek, it might be usual during training or raids. If Peyton gets it working, her device would reveal the position of any enemy, Rebel or cadet. It would make everything much easier. A crooked grin forms on Peyton's face as she realises the massive advantage this cheat will give her.

She hears the metal door creaking behind her. Peyton glances over her shoulder and sees Ecklund stepping out of the barracks with the strands of her hair already tightly braided. Her round glasses twinkle in the morning light like two stars on her face.

"Hey Ecklund," Peyton greets.

Ecklund gives her a nod. "Morning."

"Could you help me with testing this?" Peyton asks, lifting her datapad. "You won't have to do much."

Ecklund tilts her head with intrigue. "Sure. What do you have?"

"Heat signature sensor," Peyton responds. "It can pick up your heat signature through walls, or so I hope."

"Okay. What do I have to do?"

Peyton lifts her shoulders. "Almost nothing. Just get inside and close the door."

Ecklund nods, and as she gets inside and closes the door, Peyton gets up, takes twenty, big steps, and lifts her datapad. She points the sensor in the back of her device at the door, and on her screen, the heat signature of Ecklund appears as a bright red silhouette before the monotone, dull background.

Peyton grins with triumph. "It works. It works."

Peyton keeps watching the screen with amazement, happy that her work paid off with an add-on to her datapad that works wonderfully.

The silhouette shifts and an arm of red slug reaches out to the doorknob. Peyton looks past her datapad and sees the door slightly opening with Ecklund peeking out. "And?"

"It works wonderfully," Peyton responds with a smile. "Yeah, you can come out."

Ecklund walks out towards her. "Astral."

Peyton smiles, but before she can answer, she sees Ashara bursting into view in the corner of her eye. And before she can even glance at her, Ashara's voice interrupts her. "Peyton, you're almost missing the briefing," her voice frantic.

Peyton's heart sinks in her chest and almost drops her datapad with panic. Malmstrom Command is expecting her for the briefing of today's training round. She absolutely cannot miss that. "Dank Ferrik."

She hurries past Ecklund without a glance, bumps into her shoulder, and runs into the barracks. She grasps her helmet and her blaster, ties it to her belt and bolts out the door with her helmet squeezed below her armpit. She can't be a millisecond too late.

With a pounding heart, Peyton hurries past Ecklund again and runs away to the building of Malmstrom Command, leaving a frantic Ashara and a nonchalant Ecklund behind with questions.

Ashara shuffles closer to Ecklund. "She's the LC. How could she have forgotten that?" she asks with a frantic voice.

Ecklund crosses her arms calmly and tilts her head a little. "Double job."

Ashara glances at her. "You think?"

Ecklund nods. Eva might be right after all. Peyton is juggling two jobs at once, causing her to almost miss one of the most important things of a Lieutenant Commander taking over the lead. Had she missed the briefing, she might have gotten a shouting Amitash before her, screaming discipline into her as if she had stolen two candies from a store. It might not be fitting for an LC to be that and something else.

Ashara casts her eyes downward with uncertainty. "I'm not sure. Just-, let's give her more time."

It might be that too…

Anyways, Ecklund should prepare. Every day at Malmstrom is a new one. Ecklund can't be surprised by a sudden turn-up of events, especially now that Peyton is commanding the squad. From deep within, Ecklund hopes Roslin will return soon, but she recognises that this is new to Peyton. She has just started. She can't break someone who tries to learn.

Hopefully, she won't have to…

At the briefing, Peyton is lined up with six other squad commanders, mostly boys, as she holds her arms tightly behind her back. She listens to Captain Amitash explaining the next training session as a holographic map from bird's eye shows the battlefield. Arrows and dots flicker all over the battlefield as Amitash explains their position, the possible approaches of the enemy, and their fall back protocol. Her heart pounds with excitement in her chest since she's never been at such a briefing. Before this, only Roslin appeared here.

However, as the briefing continues, Peyton cannot stop thinking back to yesterday night when Eva left her. Staring at the floor instead of listening, Peyton wonders whether it was a good decision to let her leave. Eva might be better off visiting a doctor or the pharmacy asking for better sleeping pills, or something. Instead, she's off onto a Lasat hunt. It doesn't sit right with her now that Eva is gone, all alone with possibly some sort of scary mental illness infecting her brain.

"Only when the enemy team is completely defeated, victory is assured," says Amitash, and he glances at all the squad commanders with stern eyes. "Move out."

"Sir yes sir!" they chant.

As Peyton prepares to head out and inform Ashara and Ecklund about it, a stern voice suddenly stops her. "Lieutenant Peyton."

Peyton turns back, straightens her back. Doctor Kirbley is leaning slightly over the holotable, his face lit up by the blue glowing surface.

"Sir," Peyton responds.

"I have noticed your squad is missing commander Roslin and Eva," says Kirbley. "I am aware of Roslin's situation, but not of Eva's. Why is she missing?"

Peyton presses her lips. "Sick, sir," she says with a shake of her head.

Kirbley pauses and gazes at her with doubt flickering in his eyes. Almost a smile forms on his face as he presses it away. "Dismissed."

Peyton gives him a curt nod. "Yes sir," and she turns and leaves.

As Peyton walks out and onto the mud of the battlefield, she hopes Ashara's sickness report is sufficient. Hopefully, he believes Eva is gone, and if not, Kirbley may not be pleased by two lying soldiers, covering up insubordination. But Peyton's nerves remain cool as she glances at her helmet. The sky faintly reflects off of its lightly-weathered cladding as she slides it onto her head, her eyes disappearing behind the sharp visor, her fists clenching with determination.

With a mug of steaming hot Caf and white vapour swirling upwards, Kirbley overlooks the training as figures move over the hills like ants. Steel walls surround the entirety of the battlefield, including all of the hills and the trenches and most of the forest. They were erected to catch stray blaster bolts.

A group of figures drop to the ground as blasterfire shrieks over them until they hit the mud further away or the steel walls. From afar, the blaster fire sounds a little like the howls of speeder engines. For some reason, the distant fire sounds calming, and for a moment, Kirbley feels like the tight protocols and procedures of the Imperial Military are distant, as if he's back at where he started: the clacks and the hums of the labs of mental and psychological research

There is a report on a psychological investigation that Kirbley's mind often drifts to at times of comfort. The report itself is not very comforting at all, but very intriguing nonetheless. Scientists of the Imperial Department of Military Research sought to investigate the possibility of creating a soldier without any guilt or moral hesitation. Through intensive neurological reconditioning that rewired the human brain, test subjects were found to show an almost complete lack of guilt when executing hostile actions, from disproportionate torture to violence against civilians, even those that were non-threatening. Neurological rewiring made them unstoppable soldiers.

However, social reintegration became nearly impossible as many developed antisocial behaviour. Their nearly emotionless responses isolated them from the life that existed outside the ranks, at home, at family, at the queue at the supermarket, etc. Life had drifted out of reach. Creating the perfect Imperial, merciless soldier is possible, but comes at a costless price: life.

IDMR's report concludes that further investigation should be done to overcome the issues with reintegration, with returning to the soldier's normal, human state.

As the words of the report drifts back to his mind, Kirbley cannot stop but feel fascinated by how powerful science has become. Rewiring the brain into a machine of war is terrifying, both its actual concept and the fact that it is even possible. It activates his moral alarm within him, blaring as Kirbley knows it is not right to push a soldier so hard it becomes a machine running a code. Soldiers are persons—lives, not computers.

Then, his comlink wails. As a sigh escapes from his mouth, he grasps his comlink from his belt and moves it to his chin. "Doctor Kirbley."

The voice of an officer crackles. "Sir, we are receiving a transmission from the Imperial Center. High Command wishes to speak with you."

Kirbley clenches the comlink and glances away, gazing at the pools of rain water in the muddy ground. High Command on the line… That can only go wrong or right, no possibility of in between. It is not how Kirbley wants his morning to unfold. "Understood," he says at last.

With reluctance, he makes it back to his office. The holotransmitter on his desk blinks red as he puts down his cold mug and sits down on his chair. His heart races slightly in his chest as he tugs the collar of his uniform, checking if everything is right, before he presses the button. The room darkens and the blue figure of a man in a hoverchair appears on his desk, towering over him. It is General Maximilian Veers, officer in charge of the entire Imperial Army, still hooked to his flying throne.

"General," starts Kirbley. "To what do I owe this summonce?"

Veers gives him a curt nod. "Doctor. I have been reviewing the initial report on the performance of the Night Force project's new phase—the Army training. I must say that I am impressed."

Kirbley straightens in his chair. Impressed? A High Command officer? That is rare. "Impressed, sir?" he blurts out.

A flicker of what might almost be approval crosses Veers' face. "Expectations were sufficiently met. I am pleased."

Kirbley's heart speeds up as he almost stumbles over his own words. "T-, Thank you, General."

Veers' expression softens slightly, though still stern and commanding. "Your cadets have demonstrated efficiency and excellent marksmanship. Response time is often swift and maneuvers are executed with a degree of coordination often unseen in cadets so young. The development is in the right direction."

"That-, that is… encouraging to hear, General," Kirbley stammers, still struck with surprise. "I am certain that their tactical skills are only improving with each step of the program."

Veers nods. "I remain doubtless in your expertise, Doctor. But I cannot say that I have no concerns."

Kirbley's shoulders tense slightly. There wouldn't be a meeting with High Command if there weren't concerns.

"While their performance is far superior to the average Academy cadet, the gap remains substantial to battle-hardened, frontline troopers," Veers continues. "We do not only want to create good soldiers. It is about elite soldiers-soldiers capable of breaching enemy defenses and turning the tide of war. From what I see, the Night Force project still has a long way to go."

Kirbley nods. "I understand, General. The Emperor wants results quickly, but I fear that science thinks differently about development speed. We are pushing our cadets to the limits. They are holding themselves together, but it is only because our steps are careful. We do not tread with haste."

Veers' gaze grows sharper. "The caution is appreciated, Doctor, but the Emperor expects results. The war is not won with hesitation or caution. It is won with risks, daring steps into the unknown, bravery. The project promised us a new kind of soldier, but we cannot afford to wait indefinitely just for science to decide its own speed."

Kirbley turns silent, his eyes drifting away as a hint of frustration gnaws his patience away. "General," he says, finally. "I have skipped enough steps to simply catch up with a speed impossible for science to hold onto. I am not certain I can speed up the Night Force project even further."

A sudden, faint sigh escapes Veers as he tilts his head. "Doctor. You have adjusted to our requirements more often than you liked, with positive effects on the project and the standards you met. I am certain that this adjustment will get through."

Kirbley's eyes cast downward, questioning the possibility of skipping steps once more. It has been done before and too much to his liking, but it is no lie that great risks come along. He lets out a faint sigh. "We'll see, General."

Veers remains silent, his stern eyes staring into his soul until he gives him one last, curt nod. "Make work of it, Doctor."

The holotransmitter flickers and Veers' image vanishes. The room is left in total darkness as the window covers slowly slide up. The sunlight rushes back as Kirbley exhales sharply. The tension spills out as his mind races with what is expected from him. Leaning back, he knows he can push his cadets harder, but it is not without risks. In the greater scheme of war, soldiers are tools, but if sharpened too quickly, they can easily break. And if they would break under his guidance, he would not be far behind them.

IDMR would have no problems taking the project over if he goes too far, but so would it be if he is too cautious…

As a restless night passes, Eva and Daxan set out early to travel to Gaalperlake, a town beyond the city borders of the Capital. It is a town she has never visited, so she is intrigued to see what its library offers. She knows from Capital Library that it contains millions of bookworks, ranging from history books to literature, children's books and government papers. Millions and millions of files, all at one central palace. Gaalperlake's library will be much smaller in scale and presence, and hopefully, that can provide her with a gap through the Empire's regulation.

From the highway to the rural roads through the fields, Eva clings tightly onto Daxan's bike, shrieking past Gaalperlake's first homes. They seem old as their concrete outer shells seem weathered. Daxan slows down as they drive into the town center and find the library on the other side of the plaza. It is a barren structure of concrete, covered by the green, rustling leaves of ancient trees. There are few people outside, strolling outside with bags from the local stores as Daxan drives into a parking lot.

Eva hops off. "So… Gaalperlake," she sighs, glancing around. "Always dreamed of visiting it."

Daxan chuckles as he switches off the engine. "Not," he smirks. "First impressions?"

Eva shrugs. "I don't know. The stereotypical rural town… too quiet, too empty."

Daxan smirks. "I know that feeling."

"Alright, let's get inside," says Eva. She walks towards the library's main entrance. "Let's hope they have it."

Eva taps on the door button and as it slides into the wall, they step inside. With Daxan following her, she stumbles into a stale atmosphere as before her, rows, rows and rows of glowing datapads cascade to the other side of the building. The amount of rows this local library has leaves her in awe. She knew the Capital Library had a lot, but she did not expect such a rural library to have almost as many.

"Dank Ferrik," Eva curses. "How are we going to sift through all of that?"

A sudden, mechanical growl erupts into the air. "Hush!"

Eva glances at the reception where a rusty, old droid stands. It has its finger before its metallic mouth, a rectangular gap in its steel face. "Quiet please, madam. This is a library," it says with a garbled voice.

Eva lifts her hand up. "Sorry," she says, softly, and she glances back at Daxan. "Kriffin' droid. There's no one even here."

"Well, what kind of fool would wake up the crickets?" Daxan asks.

Eva smirks. "Shut up. Let's focus on the work. This mission is most important to me, but I'm not going to read all of this just to find information on Jedi shenanigans."

"Same," Daxan responds. "You could ask the droid."

"Are you sure it's gonna help?" Eva asks, glancing at the droid in the corner of her eye. "It's a rust bucket."

"I think it may help," Daxan shrugs.

"Okay, well, go ahead."

"No, no," Daxan stammers. To Eva's surprise, his voice turns shivering. "You-, you ask."

Eva shakes her head with confusion. What? What do you mean?

It almost sounds like Daxan is afraid to ask. But Eva quickly recognises that now is not the right time to ask or discuss. There is work to do. A lot of work.

Without asking further, Eva approaches the rust bucket behind the desk. "Droid."

The droid looks up from its computer screen. It floods one-half of its metal body in a soft, white hue. "Madam," the droid greets with a clunky nod. "How may I be of service to you?"

Eva leans with her hands against the metal desk on which she can see the dust sprinkled around. "How many works have you stored here?"

The droid hums. "Well, let me think," and its processing unit starts whirring inside its head. "I count one million, five hundred and eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and forty-eight files."

Yup. No way that I'm gonna sift through all that.

"And how about history works?" Eva asks.

"Well, we have about six thousand, eight hundred and sixteen works on history," the droid responds, its CPU whirring loudly, "from the declaration of the First Galactic Empire to the most recent development in Imperial weaponry."

Over six thousand works on history. That's better than over one million. Still too much. Hopefully, it's not all about just her Empire. "Okay. And… how about records related to the Jedi?"

Then, all motion stops. With flickering eyes, the droid becomes silent with a dead gaze locked on her.

"Could you help me with that?" Eva stammers. "Droid?" but it gives no sign of any acknowledgement.

Eva glances over her shoulder at Daxan, sensing it won't answer.

Daxan shrugs with confusion. "Ask again?"

I'm not sure.

Eva presses her lips and looks back at the dead droid. She leans over the desk and gives it a tick on its metal head. "Hey, rust buck'."

Then, the droid clasps her wrist in an instant in dead silence. Eva startles, shuddering with terror as she gazes at its dead eyes.

The droid tilts its head. "No works on the CLASSIFIED exist." Its voice turns dark. "Gaalperlake Library apologises."

"Does not exist?" Eva gasps and clasps the droid's hand and tries to pry its cold fingers open, her heart starting to race in her chest. "Let me go you rust buck'!"

Daxan hurries in and forces Eva's arm out of the droid's locked hand. The droid releases her wrist and continues to stare at her. "No works on the CLASSIFIED exist. Gaalperlake Library apologises."

Eva gasps as Daxan pushes her away with urgency. "What's wrong with you!" she cries.

"No works on the CLASSIFIED exist-,"

"Drop dead!"

"Okay okay, easy," Daxan urges and turns Eva away from the droid, pulling her to the back of a tall bookcase.

Staring at the floor, Eva twists her wrist with shock. It did not hurt, but it shocked the shit out of her.

"Hey, you're okay?" Daxan asks.

Eva glances at him. "That droid is kriffin' nuts!" she whispers loudly. "What's wrong with it?"

"Its CPU has probably burned through, don't worry, it's an old clanker," Daxan urges, trying to comfort her.

Eva stares at him with fear still running through her nerves and casts her eyes downward as she slowly feels it vanishing.

"So, as you would say, let's get searching," says Daxan. "There might be references in other works instead of works specifically on the Jedi."

Eva nods, pondering heavily. "With that rust buck in the back? Scary."

"It won't do much," Daxan responds. "It's just an old admin droid. It can't do much else besides computing."

Eva inhales deeply. "Alright. So… History of the Galaxy maybe? We might find something there.."

"Let's start with that, then," Daxan responds.

They get to work. As they locate the datafiles containing History of the Galaxy in the History section, they sit down at one of the long, long tables, so long that it could house a big feast for thirty, filthy rich men. Aside from filthy rich men briefly in her mind, there is also filth in the form of dust everywhere. This library is truly not visited often. The last person to have visited this place must've been a Jedi themselves.

But as they sift through the many editions of the history work, flipping pages and reading passages for hours and hours, Eva finds nothing related to the Jedi. It seems like some passages or pages are missing; the page after seems to abruptly end the page before without any chapter or paragraph mark. It is as if things have been removed, and Eva fears that even here, the claws of her own, beloved Empire is stabbing her in the back. With every chance of a mention of the Jedi slipping past her, Eva feels the sand in the hourglass slowly draining, growing impatient. At last, she cannot take it any longer and stops.

There is nothing mentioning them. Even at such a remote library, the Empire's reach cuts so deeply that nothing slips through their regulation. She is fighting against herself, a fight she knows she cannot win.

Eva clasps her forehead with frustration. "I-, I give up," she sighs. "Nothing. There's just nothing."

Daxan, sifting through the work on the other side of the table, glances at her. "No mention of them here too."

"Dank Ferrik," Eva sighs. "They're good. Even at such a remote library, they still got the regulation right. Yeah, they're good. Kriff this, I'm gone." She stands up and swings her backpack onto her back. "There must be another way."

Daxan stands up and catches up. "Probably."

Eva glances briefly at the droid as they walk back to the main entrance. Its metal fingers clack on the keyboard. "Hey, rust buck'."

The droid looks up from its computer screen flooding its metal head with a white hue.

"Some rat took a dump there. Go clean it." It can't be that dumb to fall for that…

Eva walks out with heavy footsteps and inhales deeply. The fresh scent of leaves prickles in her nose, calming down the turmoil that is brewing within her. "Finding information in the library won't do a thing."

Daxan catches up with her. "How's the old man?"

"Mr Dane? Can't help us," Eva responds. Her stomach starts to growl with hunger. "Dank Ferrik. That reading made me hungry. You said you had to refuel, right?"

Daxan hops onto his bike. "Yeah. I have a quarter of a tank. There's a fuel station not far from here."

As he switches the engine on, Eva hops on and they drive out of Gaalperlake. Eva glances one last time back at the library building. Weird ass droid. Hope to never see you again.

The store at the fuel station is quiet and empty with only a droid at the check-out. While Daxan refuels his speeder bike outside, Eva walks along the aisles to kill the time and find some quick food to eat.

Eva finds a dusty box of breakfast crackers. Hyper processed food, it says on the label. And highly nutritious. Hopefully, filling as well.

Eva takes it from the shelf and holds it against her chest. Now, something for Daxan. He desires something with meat, oddly enough.

Not wanting to judge his diet, Eva searches further. From another aisle, the cashier droid walks into her way. Eva shudders for a moment, seeing its blue, glowing eyes locking onto her.

"Madam, how may I be of service to you?" it mutters, holding its metal arms crossed behind its back.

With her heart briefly pounding in her heart, Eva gasps and calms herself down quickly. That droid in the library truly scared her. She starts to understand why some like Ecklund seem to have a phobia for droids. Old, haywired droids truly are a different kind.

Eva swallows. "I'm looking for something to eat with meat in it."

The droid nods with a metallic clunk. "I know precisely what you are looking for. What pet do you own?"

"Pet?" Eva slips. "It's just for a friend—a human."

"That narrows down my search scope sufficiently," the droid responds. "Please stand by."

The droid turns around and walks slowly to the back of the store and disappears behind the door of the storage room.

"What pet do you own," Eva whispers. She breaks into laughter for a brief moment.

Stupid droid.

As Eva waits for the droid, her eyes land on a box of chocolate crackers with the face of Lola's Academy. The freckles on her face and her fiery red hair instantly jump out.

Dang, did they do a collab' with some food company? That's astral. I'll take that if you don't mind.

As Eva takes it and holds it against her chest, she suddenly sees a man stopping at the end of her aisle. She does not want to bother him with uncomfortable eye contact, but his cold eyes burn on her skin as the unease grows until she can no longer bear it.

Eva glances at the man and makes eye contact. His scanning eyes send a shiver down her spine as his pupils hide something. Eva freezes with uncertainty, unsure of his intention or what to do. Eva holds in her breath and her mind draws a blank as the man keeps studying her with his creepy eyes.

Slowly, Eva's eyes drift down to his waist. There, she notices something. It's a slight bump around his waist, something like a holster.

Eva glances back at his face. The man slowly reaches out for whatever is hanging from his waist. And then, Eva slowly realises what he is reaching out for.

In a heartbeat, Eva drops her stuff, runs back and jumps behind the shelf. A blastershot shrieks past her, barely missing her face. Eva gasps for air as her heart races with anxiety.

"Blast it," Eva curses.

Rebels.

Eva pounds her back into the shelf and draws her blaster. How the hell did they find her? Did those scum follow her? Well, if they respond with violence, so will she.

With a pounding heart, Eva shoots back but misses the Rebel. Quickly, she notices five other Rebels storming out of the door of the storage room with drawn blasters and narrow eyes.

Eva moves back into cover and curses under her breath.

The Rebels start boxing her in. Eva manages to take one down but gets stuck behind a shelf as they close her in. The atmosphere burns as Eva feels her heart pounding as if it is in her throat.

A Rebel moves just past the entrance door on her right while another one skids the wall on her left. The remaining two hold their position in the far back. Eva can sense their presence through the shelves and notices they are coming in. Her heart fills with anxiety, recognising she does not have many chances of winning left. Two boxing her in and two staying put is a difficult, nearly impossible approach she can tackle. Her lungs speed up with fear. She looks slightly above the shelves, looking outside the shop. Daxan, where the hell are you?

Then, Eva sees the door sliding open and footsteps pounding until an unsheathed knife slices through flesh. A scream of agony erupts. The other Rebel stops and moves back, shocked by the sudden scream. They're confused. Now is her moment to strike.

Eva moves to the wall swiftly, sees the other Rebel, shoots him twice in the back, and moves an aisle up. There, at the other end, she sees Daxan, dropping the body of the Rebel on the floor. His hand is dripping in blood as he pulls his knife out of the Rebel's throat. Eva gasps with relief.

He gestures to her to hurry. In his eyes, Eva can see panic flickering in the corners. "Eva, come on. We have to get out of here!"

Eva hurries to his side. They sprint out of the shop with the blasterfire of the remaining Rebels shrieking past them. Eva fires back, hits one, and jumps onto the back of his bike. Daxan turns on the engine and shrieks away. The engine roars with a ferocious growl. With a pounding heart, Eva holds onto the bike tightly with burning nerves.

They emerge onto a busy highway with speeders left and right, whipping past in a blur.

"The hell happened there?" Daxan cries.

"Rebels," Eva cries back. "Damn Rebels, they found us."

"They must have followed us all the way from the library or the motel," Daxan responds.

"How? How did they know that we were there?"

"Don't know, but they're still following us."

Eva's heart sinks in her chest as she glances over her shoulder. In the far distance, bikes passing speedercabs race over the highway towards them, overtaking every vehicle they come across.

Eva curses under her breath. They refuse to give up.

"They really, really want the Artefact. What can you do?" Eva asks, frantic. "Can you lose 'em?"

"I'll try," and Daxan slams the throttle.

Eva almost loses her balance as she clings onto the bike. They race past speeders as the Rebels close in. One of them catches up. Eva looks the driver in the eyes and sees the fire burning in his dark pupils as he is ready to slam them off their speeder. But in a flash, the Rebel crashes into the back of a lorry, sending its debris over the tarmac and into a light pole, bringing it down.

Eva glances back as the other Rebels dodge the traffic. Two remain.

"One down!" Eva cries.

Daxan nods. "Hold on."

In the mirrors, Eva sees the Rebel bikers racing closer. One tails them directly, racing just dozens of meters behind them. Before her, they race towards the back of a speedercab.

"Watch out," says Daxan, and as Eva squeezes the bike's frame until it hurts, he slams on the brakes and lifts the nose up. Eva's stomach turns as they lift from the ground, over the speeder cab.

The Rebel has no time to react and slams into the trunk of the speeder cab, disintegrating within a second.

Daxan then slams the pedal and lands on the tarmac in front of the cab with a bang. The bike swerves and Eva almost loses grip, but Daxan manages to maintain control. With her heart pounding, Eva looks over her shoulder and notices the debris of the Rebel speeder bike scattering across the highway.

One more down. Only one remains now.

As they swerve around traffic, Eva notices the last Rebel is catching up, barely in the corner of her eye. Eva reaches for her blaster and aims with one hand at the Rebel. She fires but misses as Daxan veers around speedercabs, dodging them barely. Their speed and trajectory is so erratic and high that Eva risks losing her balance.

Then, the Rebel takes distance, moving a lane away, and as Eva makes eye contact, she spots the adrenaline in his frantic eyes as his hands on the wheel cramp up. With igniting nerves, Eva realises he is going to pull something off.

Before she can ask herself what, the Rebel yanks his wheel to the left and swerves towards her. Eva shrieks as the Rebel smashes into the back of their bike, nearly hitting her. Eva loses her grip and falls over, until her hand manages to take hold of the bike's frame again. She hangs barely above the tarmac as it flashes past her head. She's able to pull herself straight up as thoughts race through her mind. Holy shit. Had I not regained grip, I might've been dead…

Without warning, the Rebel swerves into them again. Eva holds tightly onto the bike as she's almost yanked off. Daxan is forced onto the exit lane and races off the highway. He veers onto a road piercing through rural fields as the tarmac stretches towards the horizon. In her other hand, she is still holding tightly onto her blaster as she realises that now is the chance to end the Rebel's chase for once and for all.

Eva draws her blaster, aims at the lone driver with a shaking hand and fires. The Rebel tries to dodge the shrieking blasterbolts, but the third shot hits his engine. His bike spins out of control as the driver fights for control, but he hits the pole of a road sign and is thrown off into the ground. His speeder crashes into the soil with a bang and erupts in flames.

"Stop," Eva cries.

Daxan slams on the brakes and comes to a halt.

Eva glances back at the crash site. The wreckage smokes in the tall grass as flames spit out like geysers. The smack that Rebel made felt awful. Her bones shiver as she recalls it. That road sign must have killed him. As the breeze blows through the strands of her hair, Eva closes her eyes and gasps with relief, happy that the chase is over. The fear was real. The speed they had could have killed them both, but they survived, thanks to Daxan's driving skills. Eva opens her eyes and follows the curls of the smoke, rising into the air.

Her eyes then catch something. She sees movement on the ground. Slow movement. Did he survive?

With her heart still pounding in her chest, Eva taps on his shoulder. "Reverse."

Daxan changes gear and reverses to the crash site. With disbelief, Eva sees the misformed debris coming closer. It has been completely obliterated, but there, through the debris, Eva sees the Rebel crawling away, reaching for his leg as his eyes land on her.

Eva jumps off and draws her blaster. She steps towards him with the rage starting to boil her blood. His eyes narrow with hostility as he reaches for the blasterpistol hanging from his belt. He grabs it but before he can fire, Eva pounds her foot on his arm, aims, and blasts off his hand.

The Rebel screams with agony, his voice echoing over the hills. Eva lifts her foot and aims her blaster at his head. "Rebel scum," she hisses. "Drop dead."

"Wait wait wait." Daxan hurries in and pulls back her arm.

Eva steps back and glances at him with the anger burning in her eyes, her cheeks burning red. The hell you're stopping me for?

"Let him live," Daxan urges, his voice soft in her ears. "We might need him."

The urgency to stop her shimmer in the pupils of his eyes as Eva looks back at the Rebel biker. He wraps his hand around his blackened hand with clenched teeth as the pain is engraved in his red eyes.

Behind his swollen eyes, he hides something. He holds information that they might be able to use. He therefore cannot be killed if she wants to succeed in the mission. The library was a lost cause, but here, lying on the ground with half of his hand gone, lies a new opportunity of information. A new, open window.

Eva takes deep gasps and calms down her raging fury. "Okay," she whispers.

She looks back at the Rebel with narrowing eyes. "Let's see what he can tell us."

Slowly, the Rebel's eyes turn fearful as his pupils grow, realising a quick death won't be a given…