She walked with a purpose, people moving out of her way as she approached. Some of them pretending to busy themselves, whereas some of them were actually busy. She didn't care too much. These people were broken anyway, it was evident on all of their faces. Yes they still held true to the dream of the Empire and all that it could hold, but they weren't living in reality. The sooner they recognized that the old Empire was gone the sooner they could build something new, something better, in its place. Walking into the centre of the room she held out her hand. "Inventory report." A holotablet was placed in her hand, and she had to suppress the urge to scowl.

Two Imperial Star Destroyers, the Gladiator and a handful of escorts which was a reasonably sized fleet. Though as she suspected, since the fall of the second Death Star desertions rose through the roof and the ground forces stood at just over ten thousand troops. She could barely fill the two star destroyers she had with troops. Thankfully she still had all the vehicles, around 60 AT-STs and 40 AT-ATs... the problem was that there wasn't any crew to crew them. She sighed as she handed the datapad back over to the officer who had given it to her. It seemed like her second job, filling in for the Governor was beginning to take all her time away from her project, she had been making significant headway till the fool Venuti tried to give up the planet.

"Engsign." The man who was previously at her side stopped and turned around.

"Ma'am?" She just scowled at him. "I mean Sir?"

"Contact Major Conrad. I need to see him immediately."

"Yes sir."

---

Lance slammed the datapad down. "You're kidding me right?" The poor officer didn't really know how to react, but then again Lance was known for keeping a cool head. "We came on a Cruiser full to the brim with troops. Over two thousand men, plus vehicles. To speak nothing for our escort, and you're telling me we're down to one thousand-eight-hundred and fifty three men, a handful of vehicles to mention and so far we've only managed to find Blue, Hawk and Nyx Squadrons with a handful of other pilots from the rest." He rubbed the bridge of hise forhead with his right hand. "It's been two karking months people!" Everyone in the command centre stopped to look at this point. "I know it isn't easy, I know... this-" He indicated to the makeshift command room they had constructed in an old abandoned apartment block "-Isn't exactly what we signed up for. We need to be doing better." He sighed as the put the datapad down.

"Everyone, go get some rest. I'll keep an eye on the comms. There's not a Op running right now anyway." They turned and looked at him and he just waved them away. "That's an order, get out of here you pesky kids." He sat down and leaned back in his chair, letting a groan out of his body. Why High Command, or whatever it was called these days, ever let them come with just a single company of men was beyond him. Ideally they would have brought an entire occupation force, moved in to secure the planet. When it turned out that this was a trap they would then have had the capacity to fight off the Imperials to either a) Still secure the planet or b) to fight their way back out of the system. Instead they had been forced to ground and had spent the last two months moving from place to place.

The latest hideout was an old apartment building, the city above had been torn down in a war long forgotten exposing one face to the sky and plant life grew all over. It probably wasn't the most structurally sound but it gave them access to the air and a place to rest their heads, the nearby buildings also allowed them to set up a rudimentary perimeter so while they wouldn't be holding off any major assaults if the Imperials sent a scout party they'd be able to hold the line long enough to fall back and find somewhere new to hide. He was hoping they'd last longer this time, everytime they had to find a new base they lost more and more men. He wasn't even sure all those he lost were dead, some of them probably just gave up.

He turned his swivel chair around to face the astromech that sat lazily in the corner. "Bleep, I need you to do me a favour. Go find Suri and tell her I need to see her." He turned back around to face his console. "I just got a bad idea, and I need her for a mission."

A small congregation of Rebel personnel—specifically the pilots of any and all squadrons—met under a GR75 transport surrounded by a multitude of their fighter craft. Beneath it, they spoke of individual battles fought prior to their arrival on Taris, shared maneuvers and tactics picked up during their careers, and also spoke of their frustration being grounded. Being where they were now, huddled together with bowls of gruel and whatever rations they had left, military resources either missing or destroyed, and some squadrons having lost wingmen during their hasty retreat to the planet surface, had not been their idea of a successful liberation. They were waiting for the day they could take the fight back to the Empire, and it wasn’t coming quickly enough.

“Suri,”A fair-skinned human male looked across the open space among a few rows of seats. Pilots of all races and backgrounds looked up from their meals, attention moving to a Twi’lek swallowing the last of her meal. “Tell everyone about the first time you flew a Y-wing.”

Suri glanced up, almost immediately narrowing her eyes at him. “Reese, you ask for that story every week. Isn’t it time you asked someone else about their first time?”

“I have been! It’s just not as funny when anyone else talks about it.” Reese grinned, nudging a Zabrak female on the shoulder who had smiled back. “Mostly people just talk about their routine or how ‘okay’ it was—no offense Dagg!—but no one else, no one else—“he stressed hard, “—does what you do on the regular. At least no one I’ve ever flown with.”

“Every pilot sitting here has earned their place, Reese. I don’t need a pedestal.” Suri said. Her cheeks betrayed her humble attitude, turning a smidgen darker. Leave it to a member of her squadron to butter her up in front of other pilots.

“No, you just need a ship. What you do speaks for itself.” Rheese looked around. Other pilots seemed to agree, whether by the gesture of nodding at Suri or softening their stares. Respect in your squadron was one thing, but respect among several different ones was something else entirely. She earned that.

“That goes for everyone else, too.” Suri’s gaze traveled to the different faces surrounding her, having committed all of them to memory in the last two months. “Captain Thereon’s been… taxed lately. If we can’t find a way to turn this around soon, we’ll have to make a way.”

“He’s a Bantha’s ass,” Reese muttered under his breath. A few chuckles near him rang out.

“He’s one of our best chances at contacting High Command—or better yet, actually winning this fight,” Suri said firmly. Those laughing silenced themselves. “We’ve got the ships and the skills, but sometimes that’s not enough.”

“Even for Blue Squadron?”

“This time even for Blue Squadron,” Suri nodded. “Believe me when I say I would like nothing more than for us—Hawk, Nyx, and all other unaccounted for squadrons included—to take it to the Empire head-to-head. We’ve got some of the best the New Republic has to offer down here. All we need—“

The familiar sound of a small astromech unit drew closer to her. Reese’s eyes wandered, as did all other pilots nearby. Suri looked over her shoulder to see Zee, her affectionate astromech unit, approaching quickly. But it wasn’t alone. Followed closely beside Zee was Thereon’s own astromech known as ‘Bleep’.

“We about to have some action?” Reese wondered aloud, standing up and moving closer to Suri.

“With any luck we’ll have something to do at least,” Suri stood up as the two droids closed the distance.

Bleep had begun to relay the message to Suri. Those that could clearly understand Binary felt a surge of excitement, with murmurs going about. Those that could not, like Reese, were left looking to Suri for translation. A squadron leader being called usually meant an assignment, such as scouting or a raid, was being given. Suri, as well as the rest of Blue Squadron, would have taken anything at this point, and that may have gone double for the other pilots with them.

“What’s up?” Reese asked.

“Thereon needs me. I’ll be back.” Suri nodded to Bleep, allowing him to lead the way. Zee had taken it upon herself to follow as well, considering herself just as much a part of this potential briefing as Suri was. “Oh, and Reese,” Suri glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t get your hopes up, but make sure your ship is prepped, just in case.” She turned around, hearing the confirmation of a cheer that brought a smile on her face.

---

Suri nodded at the guards posted outside of the makeshift command center before entering herself, Zee still close beside her. She spotted Thereon at his seat, face glued to the console, and came to a stop in front of the desk. “You wanted to see me, Captain?” A sassy beep from Zee prompted Suri to make a quick correction. “Sorry, us.”

Zee’s head rotated back to Thereon, playfully satisfied.

With a cool wisp of blues and whites, the Defender, accompanied by several smaller vessels of varying purpose were spat out of lightspeed. The Defender’s hull, ravaged with carbon scorches and breaches revealed tales of a recent skirmish. However, while the sight of such devastation looked grim, in reality most of it was merely cosmetic and didn’t impede the ship or its crew to any great extent. – For now.

On the bridge a man wearing the purest white uniform that made snow grey in comparison stood at the main view screen, staring at the distant orb that grew only in millimetres with every passing second.

“Sir! We’ve entered the Taris System.” Called an officer whose face was hidden behind an operator’s terminal, not even looking up to view the person he was speaking to.

“Very good.” The man in white said, his eyes fixed to Taris. “Give me a situation update.”

“Yes, sir.” The officer responded, taking a moment to full read his display. “It seems that our last encounter with rebel forces has caused minor damages to our life support systems. While not an immediate urgency, I do recommend we seek repairs as soon as it is viable to do so.”

“And what of the planet and other Imperial forces?”

“Unknown, I’m trying to hail them now.”

“Very good, take us down into low atmosphere. It’ll be easier to repair life support while we’re not relying on it.”



A shadow casted over the tall skyscrapers of the population centre, the clouds parted and in their wake rested the open hanger entrance of the Defender. Those below looked up in both awe and horror as they feared bombardment from the turbolasers or the bombers that laid dormant. After some time, it was clear that the ship had no ill intentions of the city or its residents below.

“Captain Knight, we have reached low orbit.” The officer cried.

“Very good, launch all TIEs on defensive duty, put a show on for the locals. Let them know we’re not here to subjugate them.” Knight ordered. “Now get those repairs underway and request both Imperial and local support to refill our provisions and resources. Also all non-essential personnel are to be given shore-leave. Let them breathe real air for a while.”

As soon as the orders were given, an estimated fifteen TIE fighters left the three hanger bays and begun to swarm around the Defender and nearby areas, some performing manoeuvres and showing the local population as to how skilled the pilots were, but mainly to show that they meant no harm.

\/

The distinctive scream of a TIE Fighter's Ion drive gave pause to the patrons of The Stranger's Bar as it passed over, their collective attention drawn from their drinks and conversations as tensions rose. In a lonely corner of the bar, a human man in orange-grey armour drained the last of the cheap Corellian whiskey before he looked over to the occupant next to him in the booth.

"HK, We're heading back to the Revenant."

"Agreement: As you wish Khyrr."

As the droid made to get up, the attractive Devaronian with jade-green hair and coppery skin curled against Khyrr's side turned to look at him with a lusty expression in her blood red eyes. The man noticed the expression and smirked as he stood up, her eyes following him, or at least a particular part of him.

"Not right now Vida. If you're still in the mood to... get to know each other a little more, you know where I'm staying."

He winked at her as she gave him a flirty smile before pulling on his helmet and heading out of the bar, tossing an extra few credits as a tip to the bartender. Outside, he stopped and looked up at the hovering shape of a rather beaten Gladiator-class Star Destroyer, a small smirk crawling onto his face. He always like seeing the empire get kicked around because that means more business for a mercenary like himself. Whether it was the Empire looking for a chance to strike back or the Rebellion, or should he say 'New Republic', looking to press the offensive, Money was money and he didn't care who it came from.

The communicator in his helmet beeped and he opened his holo-emitter to see the holographic image of HK-51, his droid co-pilot and partner.
"Statement: The Revenant has been secured. No suspicious objects or personnel detected."

"Copy that HK, heading over now."

It was a fairly short walk from the bar to the hangar where the refurbished and improved Fury-class Interceptor sat proudly. Despite himself, Khyrr stopped to admire the ship. His ship. The same ship that had shot down more than its fair share of fighters and transports, be them Rebel or Imperial, not that either faction knew about them. Walking around the back, the loading ramp lowered with a hiss and the assassin droid stepped down to meet him halfway. Nodding him a wordless greeting, Khyrr followed him to the cockpit and quickly sat down in the pilot's seat as HK-51 did the same. The two quickly ran through a diagnostics check and, once they were sure all the systems were secure, Khyrr left HK-51 to guard the ship as he left for the cheap apartment he had rented in the Population district.

When he arrived, he was greeted with the sight of a familiar Devaronian. He smirked at her as he let himself in and tossed his helmet onto the worn couch as he began to un-clip his armour.

"I see you decided to take me up on my offer..."

Her tongue ran along her top lip accompanied by a lusty gaze as his armour came off to reveal the black shirt and trousers that loosely gripped his arms and legs, just enough to show his lusty audience the line of his body while loose enough to leave enough to the imagination. He turned to face her with another smirk and the coin dropped. Within seconds, the pair were rapidly losing clothes as they moved towards the bedroom, kicking the door shut on the way in...

An Hour and a half later, Khyrr emerged again, this time shirtless and littered with scratches and teeth marks as he re-buckled his belt. If one were to look past him, they would see one disheveled and utterly satified Devaronian sleeping softly under his sheets until he gently closed the door and went about collecting the clothing now scattered across his apartment. He was just slipping on his shirt as he heard the dull thud of someone knocking on his apartment door. Drawing his DE-10 from the holster lying on the couch but leaving it out off sight, he cautiously opened the door with his free hand.

Standing outside on the hull of the Defender, Knight peered down from the clouds onto the population centre as some kind of deity. He could almost feel the tension building from below him. War was coming to Taris and it was to be a bloody one. Millions if not billions of lives would be snuffed out in an instant.

Visions of Knight’s past fell before him. His home planet bombarded by Separatist bombers, his brother’s lifeless body in his arms. The screams... he could still hear them. His hands trembled before him; he could still see the crimson that stained them, an unwashable mark that would plague him for eternity.

“Sir!” A man cried out from behind him, wrapping his arms around himself to protect his overcoat from flapping uncontrollably in the high winds. “Sir!” He repeated as he neared Knight.

Knight turned, his face recomposed and poised.

“What is it Griffen?” Knight replied, his stance unmoved by the winds.

“I was calling out to you for ages! Didn’t you hear me?” Griffen said, now within reasonable distance from Knight.

Knight paused for a moment to look back down at the city below then back to Griffen.

“I was lost in thought. What was it you required from me?”

“I fear that we our open for attack in our current location.”

“How long before the Life Support is operational?”

“Given our rate of progress, it will be a few days.”

Knight though for a while, he knew what Griffen was saying had some merit. Then an idea hit him.

“Then we make ourselves an undesirable target.” Knight responded.

Confused, Griffen asked how that it would be possible.

“It’s simple. We open our doors… well hangers to the public. I remember being a child I always wanted to tour an Imperial warship.”

“But sir? Is that wise. It will leave as vulnerable attack from the inside.” Griffen said, his voice full of concern.

“It does indeed, but imagine the up cry… Rebels attack a ship full of civilians on board. They would quickly lose their support from the system. In such attack we ensure our troops protect the civilians above anything else. The rebels will then become public enemy number one.”

Hours later ships would create a taxi service up to the Defender’s main hanger bay. While many were hesitant at first, actual tours were being given, children were allowed to sit in the cockpit of TIEs, wear the helmets and such amusements like that. Any Rebel attack now would completely destroy support for the rebellion in this population centre.