Standby for Liam and his squad meant that they sat in their dark tinted TIE-fighters until the hangar doors opened, so they were forced to stare into the back of each other’s fighters or the ceiling. With part of the TIE cockpit view blocked by the wings he always felt a little cramped, he might end up switching to a TIE-Int eventually along with the rest of the squad. But not anytime soon if he had anything to say about it. Truthfully, he’d love it if he could fly a Delta-7. Despite being outdated, the narrow frame and dynamic coloring had always made them attractive to him.

The coordination beacon in front of Liam lit up suddenly. It was time, two beeps, and then a third slightly prolonged beep.



The space between the Blackstar and the Warhead was painted green and blue as cannon bolts flew towards each other, all of which were being intercepted by the other’s shield; even though the Warhead was several kilometers away the translucent blue glow of their shields were obvious. It was up to either the skill of the Captains or the Pilots to make up the difference in such an even fight. The Blackstar was the only one with visible damage, that explained the earlier shaking; a not so polite greeting from the Warhead.

“Loosen up the formation, I’m giving you all freedom to fly however you want, but whatever you do, don’t fly textbook formations.” O1, Ben, ordered as they all sped out. The Warhead’s fighters weren’t in range yet but looking at the radar Liam could see they were changing their formations too.

That’s right, using something obvious and known by your enemy would get you killed instantly.

Liam shifted himself upwards, allowing Maran and the rest ample room to maneuver, to escape any turbolaser fire, and the fighters themselves. Another fighter had shifted themselves to face him, it seems they at least wanted to be clear about who was fighting whom.
The tactical display showed D5 was still out of range, but he could see his callsign and marked him as a target.

Dagger-5, TIE-Interceptor…

If Liam started shooting now the lasers would lose their power by the time they reached D5, but they would retain most of their particle cohesion and blind the man at least, giving him the opportunity to follow up with a concussion missile. That would destroy him instantly if it hit, and D5 showed no signs of deviating yet.

Liam flicked his thumb upwards, lifting the cover over the missiles, and fired. Without being blinded or obstructed the pilot would easily dodge, then he did, to his port side and dipped downwards. Liam kicked in the throttle, using the full acceleration of his altered TIE, and chased after him. The screeching of the TIE engines was muffled but Liam had grown accustomed to it, even growing to like it in the same way one would just run the engine of a new speeder.

D5 tried to lose him in a dip, he swooped downwards to lose him, then as Liam lined up behind him, he quickly ascended; obviously counting on the normal TIE fighter’s lower agility to leave Liam in the dust.

“But this is no normal TIE…” Liam muttered as he yanked his yoke back up, following D5’s red ion trail. Liam nudged his flight stick to the left and put D5 cockpit pod slightly out of frame and fired. He was hoping to disable either the engines or weapons, but D5 seemed to think he was going for a killing shot and had accidentally placed one of his solar wings within Liam’s crosshairs.

Green flashes erupted from the bottom of Liam’s cockpit pod and splashed against the side of D5’s fighter, causing a surge of energy to ripple throughout the ship. D5’s interceptor sputtered, it’s ion trails flicked on and off before it started drifting.

“O7 here, D5 disabled!”

“Great kid, don’t get cocky!” O6 called out to him.

“I’m older than you!” Liam turned back around to pick out another of Dagger squad. If they can lower their numbers enough, they’d be able to send people at the Warhead, the stalemate between them and the Blackstar wasn’t going to last forever.

Dagger-3

He was following up on O2 too closely, like had had tunnel vision on her rear, but it didn’t seem like O2 could shake him. Another stalemate for today, and far from the last.

“O7, you’re in a good spot, mind if I bring you a friend?”

“Go for it, come by point six-four, I’ll get him!”

Liam swooped ‘upwards’ putting himself outside of both O2 and D3’s field of view for a few seconds, and then arced down as quick as he had risen, putting himself right on D3’s side. A quick burst of green painted the side of the other interceptor, a slightly more violent reaction this time. The side of the int melted and exploded, tossing the int into an uncontrolled spin as his ion engines died. It was probably scary, but either the Blackstar or the Warhead would be able to find him afterwards.

As he thought this another enemy flew down across his path. Liam ratcheted his throttle to full and pivoted his Tie up on its port wing, then corkscrewed down into a roll that brought him onto another interceptor’s trail and fired. He was fast though; Liam only just grazed a wing as the other TIE dipped left and over Liam’s line of sight.

“He lost me too, O7. Slippery.” Jarael, O2, had said.

“That’s fine, O2, we’ll get him.”

Liam pushed his stick left as well, but the Int was flying over and behind him.

Come on, you need a target lock for your missiles, or you need to get close for accurate lasers. I know your ship, and you know mine!

The int quickly closed the gap, now hot on Liam’s tail. Liam centered and yanked his stick all the way to his chest, tightening his turn, the g-forces slammed his body into the back of his seat. Liam’s TIE/LN shot across the int’s line of sight, rolling into a 180 degrees turn. Liam pulled the stick back again and ‘dropped’ into the TIE’s tail, his elongated turn allowed the TIE to miss him by a fair distance.

“I have you now.” Three laser blasts poured over the side, and the same as before happened; leaving another drifting TIE to sort out afterwards.

“Blackstar to fighters, enemy bombers inbound, keep them away from us!”

“They’ll be easy targets!” Blanche said in a guttural voice.

Liam turned to engage them too, three bombers flew out, with an additional group of normal TIEs as escort. He manually selected them as targets, and the computer extrapolated their paths.

Huh?

“It changed?”

Trask turned around as the holographic images of the various ships captains disappeared. He smiled at the various pilots from Gold and Rogue Squadrons. He beckoned them forward. “Welcome aboard the Relentless Endeavour. It’s always a pleasure to host two of the most famous Squadrons from the Rebellion. Apologies for not greeting you in person, we’re in the middle of planning an invasion.” He offered them a smile as he beckoned them around the holotable, turning to Chief Naalwex as he did so. “You can return to your post chief.” The Mon Cala went to walk away, before looking back at the pilots he had escorted here. “They’re going to be assigned here until we have Coruscant, you can get your signature later.” The Mon Calas cheeks went flushed as he rushed out of the room back towards his post.

“You’ll have to excuse him, many of us here fought the Empire hearing stories of both your squadrons. I’m sure you’re used to the fans, it’s why I set you up in the hangar with just you guys and my CAGs squadron so you can have some peace. I’ll have someone show you to your quarters once we’re done here.” He typed in a couple of keys on the table before him, a hologram of the planet Utrost. An image of the fleet appearing in the system in position to attack the Imperial Fleet. “The 62nd will push in above the main Imperial Centre of the planet, taking the brunt of fire. Rogue, Gold and Wolf Squadrons will come in from the other side of the planet escorting the ground forces. Cover them going in, once the LZ is secured Gold and Rogue squadron will push up behind the Imperial force, disabling the Imperial Command ship.” The hologram changed to that of an Imperial vessel.

“Scouting has reported that based on their formations, transport and communication logs that this Secutor Class Star Destroyer is the flagship. She’ll be sat further back, long range is her ally. I’ll give you a full dossier on what we know if its schematics for you to go over. Any questions?”

Marvo stepped forward and nodded towards the holographic vessel. “Disable can mean different things when you need something from Gold Squadron, Admiral.” He smiled at the Bothan and overheard a few in his squadron snickering to themselves. “The question is, what exactly do you prefer we do with this Star Destroyer once we’re behind it? With that strategy it would be easy for us to blow the engines, bomb their bridge to smithereens, or simply unload enough ion torpedoes to send that ship crashing onto the planet’s surface on its own. I just need you to be specific.”

“One moment, please. Before you answer that…” Nareia stepped forward and joined beside Marvo who gave her a curious sideways glance. Unlike her companion, she wasn’t smiling. “We can get your forces down there and clear a path. And Commander Rikks’ confidence speaks for itself…” She glanced towards the man in question and offered him a nod of approval, which he returned, before continuing. “But I’d like to know what we’re to expect when helping secure that landing zone. Did your scouts manage to find out what’s waiting for our forces down there, and if there’s anything we might be able to do before moving on that Destroyer?”

Trask nodded along to both questions. “I’ll get back to you after, Commander Rikks.” He turned back to Nareia as he keyed a couple of commands back into the table. “The LZ is an abandoned Republic Facility. Reports indicate it has a very small Imperial Presence after a local rebel cell tried to set up camp inside it. I need you-” He nodded at Nareia “-to push in slightly ahead of the ships and strafe the facility. It may be shielded, and if so I need Gold Squadron to knock down the shields.”

Trask keyed in a second series of commands, showing the line between the old Republic Facility and the main city. Several spots on the map were highlighted. “From what we know along this approach there are various Turbolaser Tower encampments, hit them on the way to the city clearing the path for ground forces who can then advance on the city. After that path is clear, Wolf Squadron will act as air support while you focus on that destroyer. Once the destroyers dealt with it should be the simple job of cleanup, other than the flagship we’re only facing two destroyers and their escorts.”

Turning his back towards Marvo. “If you can take it out reliably, it’d be a great addition to our growing Navy allowing me to send in the marines. You’re an experienced Squadron Commander, if you use Ion Torpedoes but it looks like that ship is going to kick us in the teeth again I want you to remove from orbit, understood?”

“Understood, sir.” Marvo acknowledged his freedom of choice with a curt nod. “You can expect us to try and put an end to the fleet battle before it’s truly begun. We’ll look to force a surrender. If they leave us no choice, it goes down.”

“And destroying turbolaser towers are one of Rogue Squadron’s many specialties,” Nareia continued from where Marvo left off. That was putting it lightly, but she didn’t come here to compare feats of skill. Vothani’s achievements were impressive, too, and she had confidence in his strategy as the rest did. “I’m with Commander Rikks; we should look for a surrender at the earliest opportunity. We’re not afraid to do what we have to, but Utrost’s defenses are undoubtedly going to be pale compared to Coruscant. Are you willing to offer them a chance as we push towards the LZ?”

There was mixed reception behind her. The murmurs were relatively low, but if one listened closely, they would hear the word surrender being uttered with skepticism. Some were hopeful, and others were not. Not every member joined to talk peace with these Imperials, not until they were sufficiently beaten down to a pulp first. Some of the men and women had frustration to vent and payback to deliver, if not for them then for those they lost in this fight.

Kyrin and Rayce looked to each other, communicating briefly and quietly. Even among Rogue Squadron the opinion on what to do with the Imperials was mixed.

“Enough.” Marvo grumbled over his shoulder. His men and women fell silent, with the other Rogues joining them. Every eye fell on Trask, awaiting his choice.

Trask nodded along to everything the two squadron commanders said. As the murmur of surrender went up Commander Rikks soon silenced it, before Trask had to do it himself. “Should the Imperial Forces surrender we will treat them fairly-” There was a slight murmur from some of the newcomers “-in doing so we hold to our ideals and show that we will not stoop to their level. The ground troops have their orders from the Colonel, if surrender occurs, disarm and secure. The same goes for our operations in space, if a surrender is called cease fire. If it looks like they’re going to try something, target every weapon system you can find.” He cleared his throat nodding as his XO.

“Back to the task at hand-” The holomap changed slightly as it panned over the surface. “-Scouts have reported sightings of several walkers, AT-DPs, STs and ATs are believed to be active though their exact placement is unknown. It seems the local commander isn’t giving us a chance to pinpoint their position. So I want you all to be careful out there.” The door to the rear of the room opened as Ron Duul entered the room. “We jump to lightspeed at 1100HRS tomorrow, ship time. You’ll have full time to review schematics and plans prior to the assault, we expect to be in system by 1130HRS.” He nodded towards the Duros. “This is Commander Ron Duul, commander of my airwing and Wolf-Leader. He’ll show you to your bunks. Should any of you need me before the OP. I’ll be here.”

“Understood.” Nareia took a couple steps back before turning and maneuvering her way through the parting crowd to greet Wolf Leader personally, with Marvo right beside her. Though the murmurs continued, she noticed the uptick in tension fizzled out. Trask’s conditions were reasonable, enough so that neither Marvo nor herself were likely to hear of any complaints once they left the bridge. “Looking forward to working with you, Commander” she said to the Duros.

“Likewise,” Marvo said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure, Commander Duul. Maybe you’d like to tell us a few stories from your side of this campaign? Once we get settled, of course.”

Commander Duul was more than happy to oblige and talked them up before the elevator doors had closed.

Tyrell Omi-Ren, Jedi Master Talia Meetrik, and Jedi Master Luke Skywalker

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Nighthawk rippled through hyperspace, within it her crew went about their duties. Relani sat in the pilot chair browsing through her holodramas, making sure she was up to date on all the latest gossip meanwhile Thriik was in the hold cataloguing their latest find. The old Gotal wasn’t incredibly happy with the idea of handing over some of what they had found to a stranger on a backwater planet, it didn’t matter that he was a war hero and apparently trying to rebuild the Jedi Order. As far as he saw it he had been working with Tali and Tyrell in order to preserve Jedi artifacts, not hand them out. Eventually it came down to a vote, and even then the deal was that only artifacts that had been thoroughly studied and catalogued could be removed from the repository. Even now they didn’t have much, but it was a start.

Tyrell and Talia sat meditating in the common room. Eyes closed, Tyrell felt the flow of life as the Nighthawk passed planets and systems, some mapped and others left behind. He opened his eyes as he felt the ship drop out of hyperspace. Standing up he took the short walk to the cockpit, settling himself into the co-pilot seat beside Relani. He gave her a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Thought you said we’d be here hours ago?”

She flashed a scowl back at him. “I’d like to see you do better.”

“Well maybe if you’d ever let me fly…”

“After last time? No chance you’re flying my ship.” Tyrell feigned a look of horror.

“First of all, not my fault. I was distracted, secondly its technically my ship-” The door behind them opened as Talia walked in.

“Technically young Jedi, you stole it.”

“Commandeered It sounds so much better that way.”

Relani shook her head as she keyed in the cycle to bring them to the fourth moon of Yavin, meanwhile Tyrell spun his chair around to face his master. “So, if this is the real deal and not some Imperial Trick, will that make me a Jedi Knight?”

Talia chuckled. “Yes, I think it will. You’ve faced many trials, far more than what I needed to do to become a Knight.”

“So what will we do next?” As Tyrell asked the question Relani turned slightly as she listened in on the conversation.

A somewhat sad look crossed the aging Jedis face. “A question for another time-” she nodded at the window. “-We have company.” Two X-Wings approached, s-foils in attack position coming up on either side of the freighter.

Tyrell hit the comm button as the transmission came in. “-This is Blue-One to the vessel Nighthawk you are entering restricted Jedi Space. Please identify or leave immediately.”

Once the transmission ended Tyrell responded. “This is Jedi Knight Tyrell Omi-Ren-” He felt a well of pride at the identification of himself as a Jedi Knight. “-alongside Jedi Master Talia Meetrik. We have come to meet Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.”

Luke Skywalker did his best to contain his excitement as he made his way to the landing pad closest to the Great Temple. The X-Wing patrol around Yavin IV had made contact with a ship that claimed to have a pair of Jedi on board. However, he had his doubts about the authenticity of their claims. He knew that some Jedi had managed to survive the Jedi Purge, yet he had encountered so few of them that doubt was planted and allowed to take root. Yet, he remained cautiously optimistic that these two supposed Jedi were exactly who they claimed to be.

He stood near the landing platform as Nighthawk descended, finally gently touching down. Luke took a calming breath as the ramp extended and the pair of Jedi, a man and an older woman made their way from the ship. If the pair had any ill intentions, Luke couldn’t sense it. Instead, he could feel their apprehension about meeting him, and their suspicions about his intentions. Luke smiled jovially as he stepped toward the pair, extending his hand.

“Hello. I’m Luke Skywalker. You must be Tyrell Omi-Ren-” He said to the younger man, before turning his head to regard the older woman. “-and Master Meetrik. Welcome to the Praxeum.”

Talia led the pairing, while Tyrell brought up the rear as was more traditional for the pair of them during their missions as Master and Apprentice. They both bowed their heads and upper torso towards the Jedi before them. He certainly wore the robes, and had the hair of a Jedi. Tyrell probed with his feelings and could find no feelings of ill-intent or betrayal. All his senses picked up nearby was the surrounding wildlife, and the students within the temple. It eased his conscious, for all extensive purposes this was as it was meant to be. An academy for learning, the rebirth of the Jedi Order.

Talia smiled. “Thankyou, Master Skywalker-” She indicated the temple, even from their spot on the landing platform they could see some people working around a nearby hangar, elsewhere in the shadows some of the younger more curious students could be seen trying to see what was going on. “-I never thought I would live to see this day. I felt that the legacy of the Jedi would be to pass on knowledge from Master to Apprentice with no hope for it ever truly rising again. For the chance to return, I thank you.” She bowed again, overcome with emotion.

Tyrell stepped forward. “I heard about you, y’know. While I was being trained, we heard tales right up to before we went into hiding. I’ll be honest, I thought you were just Rebel Propaganda. It is a pleasure to meet you-” He reached into his robe and pulled out a glowing blue cube, ornate golden patterns inlaid around the surface. “-me and my master have sought to preserve the knowledge of the Jedi. We’ve recovered some old tomes, a couple of lightsabers, armours and robes. Though this is one of our prize possessions, which we give to you-”

Talia interrupted. “-On one condition. Only a Jedi can open a Jedi Holocron, I hope you would not find it rude Master Skywalker if you were to prove you are what you say you are.”

“Of course.” Luke said, understanding what the pair of Jedi were asking.

Luke took the glowing cube from Tyrell and nodded. Since the fall of the Empire, Luke had done some extensive traveling through the galaxy searching for Jedi artifacts, anything that could help him in beginning the Jedi Order anew. During those travels he had come across several of these miraculous devices, and as he held the object in his hand, he was reminded of the first of the holocrons that he had encountered. He had found himself on Zeltros following rumors of a virtual treasure trove that had managed to find itself on the planet which had been known for its tendency for over indulgence. When Luke had arrived, he saw the elaborate architecture and the constant revelry and found it hard to believe that such artifacts would be found in such a place. However, on his second day, he had found what he was looking for. Luke had left the confines of the capital city which shared a name with the world, and found himself in a forest. His guide, a male Zeltron who’s name escaped him at the moment, had led him to a small cave. As Luke had stood at the entrance of the cave, he could feel something inside, an echo in the Force, yet he had to admit that the Force presence he felt was much smaller than he had expected. As he feared when he made his way into the cave, illuminating his way with the green glow of his lightsaber, the “vast Jedi treasure” that he found consisted of exactly a single Jedi holocron. While the discovery of the holocron could prove invaluable to him, he had been led to believe that there would be much more. It was difficult not to feel disappointed by the find, yet Luke had been grateful for the lone artifact.

He clutched the small cube in his hand and tried pulling at the various pieces of it, he tried pulling at it, and pushing it, all in an attempt to get it to open...to no avail. Already disappointed in the lack of Jedi artifacts, he began to grow frustrated with his inability to get the device to open. He became aware of his growing frustration and took a deep breath to center himself. He reached out with the Force, and in doing so, he imagined himself in a long hallway, with only one way out: a single door at the end of the hall. He made his way to the door, and using the Force, he willed it to open. The door resisted at first, however, with little effort, the door pushed open. That was when he heard a voice. He opened his eyes to find the glowing blue figure of a Twi’lek male. He was dressed in ornate Jedi robes, and he seemed to radiate confidence in the Force.

“I am Jedi Master Loden Greatstorm…”

Luke suddenly found himself back in the present, and just as it had back on Zeltros, the Jedi holocron that he held now began to open.

Talia chuckled, Tyrell did so too but more out of nerves than anything else. He wasn’t sure why his former master was chuckling, but that was part of the reason why he was doing it. “Forgive me Master Skywalker though you are an interesting phenomenon. In some ways you radiate power and wisdom beyond your years, and what I myself probably hold. Yet in other ways you are like a young padawan learning the ways of the Force for the very first time.” She ignored the holocron, the image of the long dead Jedi Master appearing. Waving her hand nonchalantly the pieces of the holocron locked themselves back into place, appearing once more to be no more than an ornate cube.

Tyrell offered a very sheepish grin. “Don’t worry Master, she tends to do this to everyone-”

Talia scowled at her former padawan before turning her attention back to Luke. “I wish to rejoin the order, Master Skywalker that I never thought I would see again after Palpatine killed all of my comrades. I predict we’ll have much to learn from each other-” She indicated towards Tyrell. “-My former Padawan, with your permission, will continue his mission to recover ancient Jedi Artifacts.”

Tyrell bowed to the both of them. “It would be my honour, to return more Jedi artifacts and history to its rightful place, while helping restore peace and justice where I can.”

“The honor would be mine.” Luke said to the older woman after her request to join the Order. “I believe that if we work together, we can accomplish great things-” he then looked to the younger Jedi. “If there is anything that I can do to help you in your mission, by all means let me know.”

Tyrell clicked his tongue as he looked at the ground, in all honesty he wasn’t sure what was meant to happen now. They had asked to join the order, Luke had agreed. What was supposed to come next? Some form of exciting ceremony?

Talia spoke up next. “Thank you. I have some other artifacts to one day bring here, though our resident scholar wants to make sure this place is secure and that you are what you say you are first. We’ve at least checked one of these things-” She winked at the younger man and Tyrell rolled his eyes. “-I know you are no doubt busy, though perhaps there is someone who could give us a tour of the praxeum?”

Tyrell cleared his throat. “Actually Masters, I have found something more pressing.” He nodded towards Luke. “I have found a lead on Grakkus the Hutt, the infamous Jedi Collector who tried on one occasion to collect you. I believe that in heading to Nar Shaddaa I can locate his stash of Jedi Artifacts and bring them here-” He nudged Talia “-for Archivist Meetrik to catalogue.”

“Of course. I can arrange that.” Luke said to the older Jedi Master as he motioned for one of his students, the Ithorian, Rhoda who was nearby, to join them. As they waited for the student to get to the landing pad, he turned again to face Tyrell.

The mention of Grakkus the Hutt gave the Jedi Master pause. Grakkus was a ruthless criminal, perhaps almost as dangerous as Jabba had been. However, the last he heard, after the Empire had arrested Grakkus, his entire collection had disappeared. There had been rumors, whispers, that Vader had taken possession of the collection himself, but the truth was, that was only rumors. Nobody knew for sure what had actually happened to the collection. However, if Tyrell had a lead on where the collection was, he had to do what he could to see that it was returned to the Jedi Order, where it belonged.

“That’s...that’s incredible news. By all means, go to Nar Shaddaa. But be careful, it’s a dangerous place. You may even want to take some of the students with you-” Luke suggested, -though, I understand if you would rather go on your own.”

Talia walked off with the Ithorian, leaving Tyrell alone with the older (though not by much) Jedi. “I wouldn’t truly be alone, we have a small crew. A former Guardian of the Whills from Jedha, as well as a university professor. Though if you know of someone who could be of use, then by all means, I bow to your wisdom.” Tyrell threw in a small bow for good measure, a mischievous grin on his face letting the Master know that he was trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

“I do have someone in mind, actually. She’s one of my more advanced students, in fact, if this were the old order, she’d have been ready for the Trials some time ago. I think you might find her useful for your mission.” Luke said with a smile, trying not to laugh at Tyrell’s antics.

“Well technically I never have trails, does that mean I’m not a Jedi Knight?” Tyrell raised his eyebrow, the notion of the other Jedi joining them momentarily forgotten. His master had said he was a Jedi Knight, he certainly felt like one. From what he had been told he was pretty much the embodiment of what a Jedi Knight was. Was there some ritual or ceremony missing?

“It seems to me that you have been through an extraordinary journey, one unlike any that had come before you. I believe that you have already passed your trials, and that you are one of the few Jedi Knights that remain in the galaxy.” Luke told the younger man.

Tyrell radiated pride, it was one thing for his master to say it. Another thing for someone entirely new to say it. “Very well, I shall return to the ship and await the Jedi you are sending with us.” with that he bowed to Luke Skywalker, and retreated back to the ship.

Kaylee Starsmore sat cross-legged at the base of a tree near the main temple. As she meditated, she concentrated on the numerous medium sized stones that rotated around her. It was a nice day, if somewhat humid, however, a slight breeze offered some relief.She often found that this spot, at in front of this particular tree was a good place to come and meditate, particularly when she needed to unburden herself.

There is no emotion, there is peace. she thought to herself as she meditated.

However, as hard as she tried, she just couldn’t keep her mind clear. She had been growing tired of the antics of Rush and Horn. Though she had grown to see them as brothers, they had a way of getting under her skin, particularly when they conspired to subject her to their various pranks. Though, the seemingly constant teasing from her two contemporaries wasn’t the only thing that had been bothering her. While she was growing up, she had grown accustomed to traveling as the daughter of a politician. Whether it was a trip with her father while he was on business, or just a simple vacation, she had grown used to traveling. However, it had been over a year since she had last left Yavin IV on a trip to Chandrila for a ceremony to show off the first students of the Jedi Praxeum. Before that, it had been two years before she had left the moon.

As she sat mulling over her current situation, one of the smaller stones that she was levitating began to orbit around one of the larger stones. Suddenly, there was a large cracking sound, like the sound of a tree trunk was being split in two behind her, followed by a loud crash. Before she could react, the trunk of a tree crashed down before her, followed by a massive boulder, burying the stone that she had been concentrating on beneath the debris.

Kaylee just sat there, her mouth agape as she looked at the mess before her. Then there was a flash of annoyance that rippled through her.

“You smelly nerf herder…” She began to say, ready to give Rush, or Horn, whoever it had been that had interrupted her meditation a piece of her mind.

“Now lift your rock again.” Came a voice that belonged to neither.

“Master Skywalker?” Kaylee exclaimed, unable to hide the surprise from her voice. Luke just stood there with a mischievous grin on his face as he regarded her.

“Kaylee, I have a mission for you.” He told her.

“A mission?” Kaylee asked excitedly.

Luke nodded in response.

“I’m sure you’re aware that we had visitors today. They were a Jedi Master from the old order, who had survived the Jedi Purge, and her apprentice. They will be joining us here, however, he believes that he has found a lead that could uncover the location of a massive collection of Jedi artifacts. He is going to travel to Nar Shaddaa to look into this. I want you to go with him.” Luke explained.

“Me, Master?-” She questioned, “-wouldn’t…” Luke cut her off.

“Kaylee, you’re ready. You’ve been ready for a long time now.” He told her.

“Yes Master.” She said.

“Now go, get your things and meet Tyrell at the landing pad.”

“Yes Master.” She said again, this time with a smile as she raced off toward the Temple.

_{Fort Kesslar, Vandor}

---

Dev felt uncomfortable in the coat he was wearing. Of course, Rexa had adamantly insisted, rightfully so, in making sure the two SpecForce soldiers looked more like thugs and mercenaries and less like New Republic forces. Of course, this meant that Rexa made sure that Dev wore a long leather duster and a wide-rimmed hat like he was some sort of mercenary. Hit's attire seemed similarly uncomfortable, with a series of overlapping cloaks covering her form. The two looked like proper vagabonds, and even seemed to fit in. Of course, the clothing also helped to hide that they were both strapped in terms of blasters and explosives. After all... they were going to make quite an entrance.

Fort Kesslar lived in a ravine between two adjoining mesas, with wooden walkways joining different platforms and buildings. Hit and Dev were making their way to one of the larger buildings, where the most noise seemed to be coming from. As the two approached, it became clear that this was some sort of gathering hall. The sounds of carousing were echoing across the ravine walls, with the sound of laughter being the most prevalent. Of course, Dev wasn't there for pleasure. He was eyeing the two guards at the entrance to the hall, and the one posted on the rotary blaster cannon on the third floor balcony. His eyes were also drawn to the side of the hall, where large metal supports were drilled into the icy terrain to keep the building up. Of course, this is where Dev found himself gravitating towards, walking past the guards with a slight nod as he approached the side of the hall. Hit knew her mission, and quickly rounded towards the other side. Captain Arx checked his six to make sure the guards hadn't followed, and smiled as the coast was clear. He reached into his coat and pulled out two detpacks. He pressed two buttons on each of them, and two red lights began to glow faintly on the explosives. When placed inside behind one of the large metal joints in the support structure, Dev heard the detpacks magnetically lock into place. They were armed and ready to go. All that was left was making sure Kesslar was inside.

Dev waited for a few moments, walking over to the railing at the edge of the platform to look down at the ravine below. Once he had figured enough time had passed, the Captain rounded the corner and made his way into the hall. The guards gave no resistance, and simply eyed the stranger as he entered. The hall had two visible tiers, with the first floor serving as a more open tavern while the second floor seemed to have more decked out mercenaries watching the revelry below. Dev's attention turned to the patrons of the first floor. There wasn't a whole army of mercenaries in here... but there had to be about twenty patrons scattered about on this floor. Too many to engage in an all out fight, especially given they were all strapped. And that wasn't including those upstairs. Dev and Hit grabbed a couple seats near a table in the far corner, passing by the eyes of a few curious individuals. Once seated, Dev's attention turned to his slicer. "If he's here, he's gotta be upstairs. Any ideas on how we could get up there?"

The Zabrak shook her head. "I saw stairs near the entrance, but there was a guard at the top. We could try and talk our way into a meeting with Kesslar, pose as mercenaries looking to join up with his band?"

Dev shrugged, taking a look around at the patrons. They all seemed to be minding their own business... but almost intentionally so. And that's when Dev's eyes focused on two mercenaries from the second floor making their way to the stairs. They had their weapons drawn and visible, and were glancing down at the two strangers. Dev's gaze fell back to Hit. "Looks like they're coming for us. Come on." Dev, without another word, got up from his seat and crossed the hall again towards the stairs. Hit followed shortly behind him, and the two stopped as they were greeted by two Zabrak mercenaries at the bottom of the stairs. They simply nodded towards the stairs, and the two Republic soldiers were able to put the pieces together. They followed the two mercenaries up the first set of stairs, and onto the second floor. Tucked away behind that stairwell was another stairwell up to the third floor, where they were being led.

The stairs led up to a small landing with two blast doors and a single chest. Once at the top of the stairs, one of the mercenaries piped up. "Weapons go in the chest. All of them." Dev and Hit shared a knowing glance, and the two reluctantly removed their blasters in compliance. They had both only carried in a blaster pistol and a blaster rifle that were clearly visible upon a quick pat down from the mercenaries. Dev raised an eyebrow to the mercenaries when finished, and they both nodded. One of them gave three quick knocks on the blast door leading towards the center of the building, and a moment later it was opened. Dev and Hit entered a poorly lit, window-less office. As soon as they were inside, the blast doors shut closed behind them.

The only individual in the room was a rather large human wearing space leathers. He had a large eyepatch over his right eye, and had a menacing grin as he looked up at his guests. He remained planted behind it as he motioned towards two chairs in front of the desk. "Please... have a seat. I'd offer you a drink, but I'm sure your commanding officers wouldn't want you drinking on the job."

Hit made a slight, barely audible gasp as her walk tensed up. Dev, on the other hand, seemed rather unphased. Dev remained silent as he walked up and took a seat, with Hit following her Captain's lead. Kesslar raised an eyebrow at this, but his grin remained as he took his own seat. "It's your walk that gives you away. A very rigid, steady pace." Kesslar held up a finger for a moment, before reaching into a drawer of his desk and pulling out a small metal disk. As he set it on the table, a holographic image of a destroyed stealthipede shuttle appeared. "It's a shame about Minister Kaal. I take it the local government has had enough. Reached out to the rebels, willing to sell this planet for their own lives. Imperials have been focusing on cleaning out and waiting for more Imperials to rescue them from this frozen waste, but they've been giving us plenty of credits to do the dirty work of making those scumbag politicians think twice about signing on to join any cause. And that now brings you two right to my door."

Dev's expression was hardened and rather difficult to read, thought Hit was clearly more than a bit nervous. The Captain leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees as he looked Kesslar in the eye. "Are we going to try and work out a deal here, or are things going to get ugly?"

Kesslar's grin faded, his expression growing rather serious as he stared the Captain down. "The only thing that'll be ugly is tossing your corpses down the ravine."

The next moment went by before Hit even had time to react. Kesslar's hand had slipped down to grab a scatter gun lying openly on the desk. Dev was equally quick on the proverbial draw, managing to stand up and grab the scatter gun around its center from across the desk. The Captain reached his other hand forward and wrapped his fingers around the clip of the gun while pointing it down, managing to slip a finger over to the mag release button with lighting fast accuracy. With a quick pull, Dev managed to swipe the magazine from the scatter gun and toss it behind him before Kesslar could fire off a single shot. Of course, this didn't phase Kesslar much, as he managed to shake Dev's grip from the gun so that he could wield it as a small club. Kesslar rushed around the desk and swung the club down towards Dev. Dev responded by sidestepping the swing, but wasn't fast enough to dodge Kesslar's shoulder check. The soldier was knocked back over his chair and onto his back, only able to watch Hit rush in and deliver a quick strike towards Kesslar's jaw with blurred vision. It was a good hit that knocked the mercenary's head back a little, but that just seemed to make him more angry. Kesslar swung his club quickly towards Hit, who managed to lift up her left arm to stop the swing from following through. She stumbled back a step, and Kesslar took the opportunity to swing his right fist towards the Zabrak's gut. She managed to lower her right arm to block the blow, and delivered a quick jab to Kesslar's nose to knock the mercenary back a couple steps.

This gave Dev enough time to quickly reach into his boot and pull out a small vibroknife while getting onto his feet. The Captain rushed forwards as Kesslar was winding back for another swing, and Dev managed to sink the vibrating blade into Kesslar's neck just before the mercenary could swing. The Mercenary grunted and gurgled as he reached up towards the wound, and Dev quickly removed the blade as he got to his feet. Hit quickly grabbed the scatter gun that Kesslar had dropped and used it as a club to knock the mercenary unconscious, leaving him to a less painful death. Dev gave a small nod towards his Zabrak comrade. "You kept your right side guarded." He pat her on the shoulder briefly, and the two soldiers began heading towards the door.

Hit tossed the scatter gun aside as she got in position, with the two soldiers standing on opposite sides of the door. Dev counted down with his fingers while his shoulder hovered over the activation switch. After reaching 1, he quickly shoulder checked the button and the door swung open. The two Zabrak mercenaries didn't even have time to turn around before the Specforce soldiers in unison put them in chokeholds, quickly kicking out their legs to keep them from standing. It was an impressive display, as the two mercenaries were released as soon as their bodies went limp. Dev and Hit quickly opened up the chest, grabbed their blasters, and opened the next door.

Out on the balcony of the third floor, the single guard watching over the rotary blaster quickly spun around upon hearing a noise behind him. His eyes widened as he saw a human and a zabrak with blaster rifles pointed in his direction, and didn't have time to swing the blaster cannon around before he was shot down. Dev nodded towards the railing on the side of the balcony as he fired a quick shot at the door controls, locking the door the old fashioned way behind them. The two soldiers rushed to the railing and pulled at the grappling lines on their belts. After quickly securing it to the rail, they pulled out their blaster pistols and climbed over the edge, rappelling down quickly. Just as they were reaching the bottom, the two guards from the front of the hall circled around to the side and raised their blasters. With a quick exchange of fire between the two sides, the guards were down and Dev had received a grazing hit on his right bicep. He shook it off as best he could, the coursing pain running through his entire arm and shoulder. The two soldiers quickly unclipped their grappling lines and made a dash along the footbridge. They heard commotion behind them as the mercenaries from the hall began emerging with their weapons drawn. Dev and Hit reached towards their belts and pressed a small button on their buckles as the blaster fire from behind began spraying around them. The two soldiers dove onto the connected platform across the ravine as they heard metal twisting and ice cracking behind them as the explosive charges detonated. The mercenaries spun around in horror as they felt the ground beneath them begin to shake, before the whole platform and connecting footbridges began to crumble and break as gravity pulled it down hundreds of meters below. Dev and Hit took only a moment to recover their breath before getting up and making their way along the path to leave Fort Kesslar behind.

Just another small-time mercenary band crossed off the list of New Republic detractors.

Rats. He was detected.

In hindsight, perhaps making use of the Force in some way would have done better, or to have had a false transponder signal to appear as another vessel on scanner, but he was prepared for neither of these. Stealth and secreting oneself quietly into an area were things that his Master was far more proficient in. At best, Tarak could lie and at least move quietly. And to the ship's credit, he was not immediately intercepted at this heavily-patrolled planet, but nevertheless it was not efficient enough. As the Tie Fighters began transmitting, the situation now lay solely in his hands.

What was the better plan? To use this ship's capabilities and lose them on the dark side of the planet in a trench of the city where they had no hope of catching him or even following? No. That will be a contengency. Tarak flipped his comm switch and spoke.

"I am Tarak. I come to battle against the Republic. I come for glory."

He could easily lose these fighters, or destroy them, but Master Diabolus was allowing him to play this as he wished, and he he liked the idea of appealing to the local government's desperate need for aid. If they refused him, they would find his reaction most disturbing...but that was for later. For now, perimeter security would have to be satiated, it seemed. he had hoped to avoid having to go through 'proper channels' and frankly get a drink on the surface before checking out his new territory. Patience was for the unambitious. They had best not delay him long...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



The Crimson Fang appeared out of hyperspace over Nar Shaddaa, a good safe distance from the planet, any shipping/smuggling lanes, etc. As a transporter/smuggler/repairman/saboteur himself, Goggles appreciate the giving and receiving of professional courtesies. "Alrighty...", he said to himself as he worked the ship's controls from his seat. All of the controls were personally customized so that he could reach them properly in his short stature, no problem. As he took them into Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere, the Tynnan kicked the switch for interior comms and held the mic up to his mouth.

"We'll be coming in for a landing now, so if you've anything loose lying around, ya might wanna hold it down 'till we hit the ground."

He switched that off, but then another transmission came in, and when he saw the frequency, he made an "Mmmph" sound as he recognied it. It was Cob Vagos, that Nemoidian crapsack. So full of himself because he use to be big in the Trade Federation in droid production, so angry because he'd gotten a roomful of company execs killed by the TAO-809 combat driod prototype when it went haywire. To this day, he doesn't know that Goggles had taken a job FROM TAO-809 to help him get his circuits fixed, and that his precious robot and bane of his career was a fully-autonomous rogue now. He hit ship communications now to receive.

"Meyran, you diminutive hairball, where are my power converters? I can't offload these refurbished speeders-"

"Heaps of garbage."

"If you had agreed to work on them, they wouldn't BE heaps of garbage!"

"Hah! Ready my pearly-whites, Cob. They're rusted, busted, and over-thrusted. No amount of rewiring is gonna do more than give 'em a couple weeks of use. New power converters'll just blow the manifold after a few good turns."

"That was the POINT, you insufferable-"

He switched him off. Cob was obsessed with building himself back to goods with the Trade Federation by any means necessary, and that included by quick-and-dirty profits. Truth is, Goggles had sold the power converters to another more-legit buyer. As he landed down in his parking space on the planet - premium paid up into next month - he came to Singe's door and knocked.

"You comin' out at all?"

The door opened, a little, and she could see the uncovered amber eye looking down at him.

"I'm tapping into the local net to see what's going on in this world, maybe find a place where I can establish-"

"Another hidey-hole? C'mon, Singe. You're the one who said ya needed to get out, so get out!"

"I dunno..."

"I know a place down the street where the fish is great, The Taste of Mon-Cal, they call it."

"...that sounds like they eat-"

"I know what it sounds like! It's not. Come on out an' eat something that ain't ration."

"Whatever happened to that famous Tynnan common sense?"

"I've been operating outta' this neighborhood a while now and I know all the sweet spots. So uhh...you comin'? 'Cause I'm hungry."

The Sephi sighed and opened the door. Looks like her pilot was taking her to a fish bar...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Meanwhile, on Bespin...

Well, we say Bespin, but it's a gas giant. Let's face it, we mean Cloud City. That huge gas-mining craft hovered over the magnificent view that was Bespin, silently turning in profits and generally being a good place to put your feet up and shoot the breeze.

It is, in fact, where Tsot Hskoss would find his lead, that band of mercenaries that worked with Singe...

In the main cantina of Cloud City, the Trandoshan would indeed find Kiara Tosk kicking back and relaxing, feet up on a table with her Kel Dor crewmates. If Tsot was very observant, throughout the music and the conversations being held in said cantina, he might also note that several IG-Series droids were on location, as well. This was one of the few places they could actually go, because in accordance with the wishes of Lando Calrissian, they DO serve their kind here. Kiara, the somewhat-slim, bald, body-armored mercenary was, in fact, going on about Lando as we speak.

"...I mean, have you ever met the man? I didn't either, not exactly. I saw him at a gambling den on Dandoran, wiping out three of the best card players this side of Nal Hutta, and he was so smooth. I felt like if I tried to talk to him, the horns would just shoot right out of my head."

One of the Kel Dor said something in his own language through the air filter. The other one was piping in his drink.

"A few years back. I wasn't in charge of anything, then, like I am now. But even though I've been through alot between then and now, I don't think there's enough swoon in the galaxy for Lando Calrissian. That face, that smile, that swagger, that style... Whoo..."

The sounds of fists colliding against boxing pads could be heard inside the hangar of the colossal New Republic vessel as the commando attacked them with determination. One hand after another thrust forward in a frantic pace as the Duros wearing the pads on his hands stood his ground firmly. Zena Vale threw a sharp kick into one of them as her entire body shifted, her other leg planted firmly to put the full torque behind her kick. She then athletically maneuvered her form to toss two more rapid punches at the pads. There were a few eyes on them around the duo, including those off a massive Yuzzem who leaned on a crate in otherwise silence. A being of few words Dakkar smirked at the training scene before him between his two squadmates. Above him aboard an X wing sat a Nosaurian, running her finger down a datapad as she read the news briefing on the screen.

"Come on sergeant, you can do better than that. Put some umph into it." Eensil Keeg teased with a laugh, his red eyes narrowed as Zena responded with more aggressive punches at the pads on his hands.

"Please try not to hurt yourselves before we even land planetside." Imik Vebbar exclaimed from behind the others as the squad's medic clipped a few more energy cells to the back of his armor's belt. Alongside a few bacta packs, ideal for blaster wounds. The Mon Calamari was making his final preparations for the operation.

"Oh, relax Veb." Dakkar stated in a deep, placid tone as the medic shook his head as sweat dripped down Zena's face in her training session. It creased through the scar on her cheek but the disciplined soldier fought through the tiredness.

"She's tiring anyway, I think Zena needs some more stamina training. Never know when you might be in a protracted fist fight with a buckethead. Gotta be able to yank that helmet off and pound their skull in." Eeensil said, another directed tease at his superior. In response Zena shifted her stance once more, then sweeped her left leg underneath his own and rapidly moved her foot to the right. As the Duros tumbled down he laid on the ground with another laugh.

"I gun them down before they can get that close, you know that, corporal." Zena stated assertively as a grin slipped onto her face, one of her hands reaching down towards the humbled soldier. Eensil met her hand with his own as she helped him off the hangar floor. As he stood back up he glanced at Dakkar, the massive Yuzzem laughing heartily at the scene.

"Keep laughing furball, I'll remember it next time a blaster is pointed at your ass." He said with a shake of his head as Dakkar continued his laughter. Zena nearly laughing herself as she wiped her brow with a towel, then took a long drink of water.

"I'm the one that has to patch you morons up when you let yourselves get shot up. Always have to pack extra bacta and bandages." The Mon Calamari medic pitched in, now standing with his arms crossed next to Dakkar.

"You might need more than that Veb, we've got another hot drop planetside. They're counting on us to punch a whole in the Imperial defense and carve a path. The man with the most kills gets a drink on me, but if I get the most then you all have to buy me one." Sergeant Vale stated, briefly going over the mission details then placing a wager to liven her well trained team's spirits. The damp tossed over her shoulder, her sleeveless shirt marked with sweat.

"Five Alderaan Twists coming right up. We're gonna have to carry the sarge out of the cantina again." Eensil joked as he leaned against Bima Leapfar's X-Wing, the diminutive Nosaurian having set down her datapad to listen to her commanding officer's speech.

"Bima will probably lead us all again and she doesn't even drink." Imik added.

"That would mean you were all slacking and letting our scout sniper hit those plastic boys before you did," Zena remarked, shooting a nod towards Private Leapfar. "Regardless, we're going to need to bring our A game today. The Empire is on their heels, the New Republic keeps punching at them they will collapse entirely. If their scattered remnants don't eat each other first like starving Krayt dragons."

She was still astounded they had made it this far, the once fledging alliance movement having toppled the fearsome Empire. A true return of democracy and freedom. If only her father could see it, he'd be so damn proud of them all. Her entire family would be proud of her, she just wished she could see them when the job was finally finished. The thought of them once more drew the sadness from her heart, until it shifted to the lust for revenge against the Empire. She would have to clear her mind before the mission launch, as was customary of the driven soldier.

"The flyboys will be giving us and the other ground forces cover, an ample distraction for us to do our job and push on. We'll be landing from a dropship. We have some time to ready up and focus ourselves." Zena stated decisively with a nod, then walked away from her team as she paced towards the Alderaani Fury. As she popped open the cargo compartment and began to put on her battle armor she felt a wave of pride sweep over her. The veteran commando knew it would be another day of victory.

Vice Admiral Vothoni & General Treselang // RELENTLESS ENDEAVOUR // GRIZMALLT ORBIT
^{Co-Starring @Mao Mao}

Trask was still processing when the notification came in that General Treselang had come aboard. He looked to his XO who gave him a shrug of the shoulders. “Did you know anything about this?”

“No Sir-” She turned and walked out of the communication room into the bridge proper to try and gather more information on what was going on. Meanwhile, Trask turned to the man as he entered, offering the man a brief but curt salute he nodded. “Indeed-” He walked forward to the man offering his hand to shake. “-it’s a pleasure to meet you, General. What can we help you with today? Though be advised we are gearing up for a major offensive, and I won’t do anything to disrupt our timetable.”

“Unfortunately, it seemed that command thought otherwise,” Treselang responded with a hint of disappointment before handing the Vice-Admiral the cracked datapad. “It contains their reason and approval for my transfer under your command for this offensive. And according to my second-in-command, headquarters had unscheduled maintenance on their communications leaving both of us ill-informed.”

Trask took the cracked datapad and read through it. Detailing the immediate re-assignment of the General and his forces, with him also put in command of the 67ths ground components. This essentially meant that the entire plan the Colonel had come up with Trask could be out of the window. Trask turned to one of his aides. “Page Colonel Ruk here immediately-” he handed the aide the datapad “-also copy all the data from that pad and print it onto a new device for the General.” He turned back to the General and his adjunct. He wasn’t sure what political favors were in motion here, or what games were being played but this wasn’t normal, even during the days where they were simply the Alliance. A transfer like this didn’t just happen.

“So General, what have you brought with you?”

“The 51st Assault Division,” Treselang responded. “A standard ground force division designed for sieges and battles. But, we were given several AT-APs and AT-TEs, an additional unit of rocket launchers equipped with HH-12s, and a Juggernaut. My men are ready for anything the Imperium throws at them, Admiral. You have my word.”

Trask clicked his fingers and an aide appeared with a datapad and handed it to him, the same aide gave the General his replacement pad. He flicked his way through it. “You bring with you, two old Pelta-Class Frigates, four G75s, and a CR90.” He clicked his tongue beneath his canines. “Transfer your walkers to the Acclamators within my fleet. They’ll carry them down to the LZ tomorrow.” At that moment Colonel Ruk walked in.

“Reporting as ordered Sir.” The Twi’lek was eying the General suspiciously, recognizing the uniform and the insignia denoting him as a superior officer.

“Colonel, meet General Treselang. He’s your new commanding officer, he’s been sent in by high command.”

The Colonel, through instinct, kicked into a salute. Trask continued to speak through the exchange of salutes. “He fought alongside Cham Syndulla on Ryloth and has led many successful operations for me aboard this ship. You couldn’t ask for a better man at your side.”

Treselang nodded and then saluted back at the Colonel. “Good to know that I am standing with someone that fought beside a Syndulla. His daughter is one of the best pilots that I ever witnessed. Now, what were you planning before my arrival?”

The holomap came online again as Trask keyed in the assault. “While I engage the main Imperium force in orbit, ground elements will drop out of hyperspace behind the planet. Break orbit while protected by Gold, Rogue, and Wolf Squadrons and set up positions in an old Republic Base. Once they’ve secured the LZ, the initial idea deposited by Colonel Ruk was to push along this ridge-” markers appeared on the map highlighting the ridge secured by the turbolaser towers “-until you make it into the city. After that, it will depend on the resistance.” This wasn’t his plan, Trask could drop off the dirt runners wherever he wanted, though he liked to do it somewhere they wanted, once they were on the ground it was out of his jurisdiction.

Despite that, he would support his Colonels plan, though if General Treselang sought to change it there wasn’t a lot he could do.

“Is there any way of sending a recon unit quietly? I’d like to know if the old base is secured. I have heard of the Imperium using pre-Republic bases lately. Also, are there any strategic locations on the planet that we should know about?” Treselang asked Trask.

“Local rebel cells indicate that the old base does have a small security presence, but that they are focusing all their efforts on the capitol dome-” he keyed in the console and the hologram changed to that of an I.P.O.F “-in the capital city of Exaron. There are other settlements over the city but none have the same level of Imperial Presence, Exaron is where the Governor is setting up camp. The Republic base is a stone's throw away, but still gives us an easily defendable location far enough away to not worry about any form of artillery.”

Treselang raised an eyebrow and then asked a simple question. “So what did you bring?”

Trask scowled at the General. “Vorn Tiger Squad will move in at 0700HRS Ship time to recon the landing zone ahead of time, should there be heavier resistance they’ll scout for an alternate landing site.” The hologram on the console changed to that of the Acclamators. “Task Force Rancor, which is the name we are now operating under, is equipped with three Acclamator Class vessels. Each vessel currently holds a standing force of around ten thousand men. Various walkers, AT-TEs, DPs, APs, and even a couple of STs. Not to mention several T-1B tanks.” The image changed as he continued to type.

“Leading the charge down on the planet is part of Rogue Squadron- ace X-Wing pilots, Gold Squadron - the best Y-Wing pilots you could ask for and Wolf Squadron who I will personally vouch for. The Acclamators are armed and capable of acting as artillery support once you are on the planet, though to back that up I’m sending two CR90s down with you which bolsters you with an additional two hundred men. Once the Imperium fleet has been dealt with or we’ve punched a whole I will be able to commit an additional ten thousand units to the battle.”

The Admiral looked between the Colonel and the General. “I’ll be putting the Vorn Tigers under your command General, with orders to meet you aboard whatever Acclamator you chose to transfer your flag onto.”

“Sounds good, Admiral.” Treselang breathed a sigh of relief that something went his way for once today. Then, his mood soured when he remembered the assault plan. There wasn’t much time to evaluate every single bit of the planet. So, all he had to trust were promises. “Though I would have done things differently, there isn’t enough time to change the plan without creating problems. I am trusting the lives of my men to you, Admiral.”

Then, he handed the datapad over to his second-in-command and whispered, “Make sure you have someone look closely at the planet for anything valuable to the Imperium. And inform the Vorn Tigers that I will be coming to introduce myself.”

Once he left the room, the General turned towards the Admiral and naturally crossed his arms. “My second-in-command will arrange everything before the ground assault. And I will meet up with the recon unit. But, I would like to request that I remain on board to oversee the attack on the Imperium fleet. I want to make sure that your plan is salvageable if things go south quickly. After that, I will be on the ground with my men to lead the assault on Exaron given that you can breach the fleet.”

“As I am entrusting the lives of my men with you. As such your request is denied, you should be aboard one of the Acclamators in a better position to oversee your, their actions, and the entire situation. Our sensor readings of what is going on down on the planet aren’t going to be as accurate as of that of the ships breaking orbit. I have no intention of risking lives needlessly if things appear to change for the worse, and if it does the fleet will cover your retreat. We’re on a short timetable, and a lot of elements are having to move and adapt quickly. I hope that you can keep up, usually, I would have read your service record but considering you were dropped in my lap mid-operation, that’ll have to wait.” An aide came rushing into the room. “Admiral, priority transmission from Admiral Ackbar.”

Trask nodded. “I have to take this General, please head to your ship. Feel free to contact me if you need anything.”

Treselang immediately noticed the Admiral’s annoyance at the entire situation and it bothered him a little. Especially the part about reading his service record as if he didn’t already prove to be reliable. For now, he needed to move on and focus on the upcoming battle. Perhaps there will be time for a private chat later. “Then, I will take my leave. May the force be with you, Admiral.”

Treselang saluted and then made his way back to the shuttle. There were plenty of things to do before the hyperspace jump.

Trask returned the salute, the hologram turning on showing the image of the Mon Cal Admiral. “Admiral Ackbar.”

“Admiral Vothoni, my old friend. How goes the preparations for Utrost.”

“Good, we’ve only had one minor complication-”

The Mon Cal grimaced slightly. “Yes, I was going to warn you about that. It seems the provincial council and the fledgling senate has already decided to introduce politics to the Military.”

“So he did request this post?” The Mon Cal shook his head.

“From what I know, he didn’t ask for it. He has a friend who felt it would look good on his resumé, I doubt the general even knows…”

Joren and Dono found themselves in the cramped sewers beneath Hutta Town. The sewers were not the cavernous wonders that could be found in holodramas, large enough for large groups of beings to engage in close quarter combat with room to spare. To the contrary, the sewers in Hutta Town proved to be a very tight fit, barely large enough for a full grown human to squeeze through. Slowly, they made their way to their destination:

The Kath Hounds' compound.

The compound itself once belonged to one of Grakkus the Hutt's Consiglieres. It was uniquely equipped to keep intruders out, boasting magnetically sealing blast doors, blaster turrets, and even guard posts at four points around the compound. There was also the issue of motion detectors on the premise of the compound itself.

Getting into the compound for a direct assault was not only impossible, it was a suicide mission. Fortunately, with Nyna's help, Dono had found the schematics for the compound, and discovered a sewer access point inside of the compound itself. The only problem, was that it was across the compound from the detention area. Which meant that Dono and Joren would have to sneak through the corridors of the compound, avoiding the Kaths inside the compound, make their way to the detention area, break in, and then get Kelsa out of her cell and back out of the compound where Nyna would be sitting in a waiting speeder to get them out of there quickly.

“Easy enough.” Joren had said to Dono after the Mandalorian had proposed the plan. Joren knew that it was a long shot, and there was a good chance that more than likely, they'd all end up dead. But it was the only chance they had.

“It'll be no problem. Just wait.” Dono had said, failing to make his friend feel better about their odds.

As tight of a fit as it was, they pushed forward. It seemed as if they had been trudging through the sewers for hours, fighting for every inch forward. Dono led the way through a narrow opening, and then he looked up, shining his light toward the ceiling.

“This should be it.” He said pointing out a small grate, just large enough for a human to fit through directly overhead.

“You're sure?” Joren asked.

“According to the schematics Nyna was able to dig up, yeah. This should put us inside the compound.” He said as he reached up and began to open the grate.

Once up, he reached down and took hold of Joren's hand, pulling him up out of the hole. Once they were both inside the compound, Dono silently motioned for Joren to follow him. Stealthily, they moved down the long, dimly lit corridor until they came to an four way intersection. Dono checked the holomap that Nyna had uploaded the HUD in his helmet and motioned that they needed to take a left. Dono hugged the wall and craned his neck to look around the corner and immediately put his hand up, signaling Joren to stop.

In the hallway just beyond the intersection, stood six Kath Hounds standing guard. Joren was confident that between himself and Dono, they could easily take the gang members standing guard. However, they couldn't do it quietly. If they engaged the thugs, every Kath in the compound would know that they were there, and Kenso would surely kill Kelsa, and this would have all been for nothing.

So they stood silently and waited.

Eventually, four of the Kaths moved on to another section of the compound, leaving just two of the Kaths standing guard in the corridor. Dono made him move before Joren knew what was happening. He crept up behind the pair of thugs, and in a single, fluid motion he sank his hidden vibroknife into the side of the first thug's neck, let go of the blade and grabbed the other in a headlock, and with a swift jerk, snapped his neck. Once the two thugs were taken care of, Dono and Joren stuffed their bodies into a nearby maintenance closet and continued on their way.

The rest of the journey to the detention area was uneventful. In fact, they didn't cross paths with a single Kath Hound. In fact, it went so smoothly that unease radiated through Joren. And it hit him:
Kenso knew that they were there.

He looked to his Mandalorian companion, and it was clear to him that Dono knew it too. It was a trap, and they just walked right into it.

Just as they reached the door to the detention area, they could hear footsteps racing toward them. Joren couldn't tell just how many Kaths were on their way, but he could tell that they were easily outnumbered. They stood ready to fight as more than a dozen Kath Hounds swarmed into the hall in front of the detention area, then, the blast doors that led into the cell block opened, and more men appeared. They were far outnumbered, and they were surrounded.

The staggering odds did not deter Dono. He pointed his blaster at one of the approaching thugs and was prepared to fire. However, Joren knew that if he did, not only would they certainly be killed, but doing so would also seal Kelsa's fate, if she were still alive. So he reached over to Dono, and with his hand pushed his blaster downward. Dono immediately looked at him, as if to ask what he was doing, but he understood Joren's intent, and holstered the blaster.

“Alright, we surrender.” Joren said, raising his hands, a gesture which Dono reluctantly followed suit.

They were grabbed and their arms were bound by several of the Kaths, and they were forced away from the detention center. They were taken down a yet another long corridor, through several blast doors to another section of the compound. They came to a large set of double blast doors, and after the Kath Hound that was leading them punched in a security code, they were brought into brightly lit room which had computer stations set up around the room, and a large holodisplay screen in the center.

And standing before that holodisplay screen, was Kelsa, held at blaster-point by Amaral Kenso.

“You can take those off-” Kenso said, motioning for his man to release the bindings that restrained Joren and Dono's arms. “-That will be all. Thank you.” Kenso said to his thugs, who in turn, made their way out of the room. Though, Joren didn't need the Force to know that they stood just on the other side of the door.

Amaral Kenso dropped the blaster to his side and ran his left hand through his long blonde hair. Kenso was a larger man. Thickly built, he looked as if he could tear a Blurrg apart with his bare hands. Though he was only a few years older than Joren, his features were weathered, his skin was cracked, and he looked much older than he actually was. His apparent aging was mostly due to the lifestyle that he lived. He had lived a life with few rules, he lived fast, and he lived hard, and that had appeared to have taken a toll on him.

“Are you all right?” Joren asked Kelsa, ignoring the gang leader. Kelsa nodded that she was, which was a relief to both Joren and Dono.

“Joren, Joren, Joren.-” Kenso started, clicking his teeth as he shook his head while looking down at the floor, before bringing his gaze back to the duo. “-We have a slight problem, my friend. You owe me 75,000 credits for that stunt you pulled. I checked the chance cubes, they weren't loaded. But I know you cheated. And nobody cheats me.” He said, his voice rising slightly.

“I didn't cheat you, Kenso. And I only took you for twenty-five.” Joren countered.

“Consider the rest interest.-” Kenso said with a grin. “-So, here's how this s going to work. You can pay me what you owe me now, and we'll forget this whole affair.” Kenso paused, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Not going to happen.-” Joren said. “-I don't owe you anything. And even if I did, I don't have that kind of credits.”

“Or...-”Kenso said, drawing out the word as he spoke. “-You belong to me. You and your Mando dog. You do what I say, no questions asked. I give you a job to do, you do it. You are mine until you've paid your debt.”

“Never gonna happen.” Joren said defiantly.

“And you, Mando?” Kenso asked, turning his attention to Dono.

“Sorry.” Dono said flatly.

“Looks like you'll just have to kill us. Or try, anyhow.” Joren said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Kill you? Oh, my friend, I have no intention of killing you. Not yet, at least. So I'm going to make this offer one last time, and I want you to really think about your next words, because if you don't agree to my terms, you will live to regret it.” Kenso said smugly.

“I already gave you my answer Kenso. Get karked,” Joren said, refusing to give in to the gangster.

“Well now, that's really unfortunate.” Kenso said as he raised his blaster and pointed it first at Joren, and then he moved his arm, aiming it directly at Kelsa's head. “I said that you were going to live to regret it. Such a shame to waste such a fine 'specimen.'” He said as he began to squeeze the trigger.

“NO!” Joren shouted as he reached out through the Force, pushing Kenso's arm away, which caused him to fire two blaster bolts harmlessly into the wall.

Without hesitating, Dono lifted his arm, and fired a bolt from his wrist blaster, which hit Kenso between the chest and the shoulder, dropping him in the process. Though he seemed to be un-phased by what he had seen, the truth was that he was in a state of utter disbelief. Had he actually just seen Joren do what it appeared that he did? Could his friend have lied to him about who, and what he was for all of this time? He didn't know what this meant, for him, for their friendship. However, these were concerns for another time, because if they didn't get out of this compound now, it would all be a mute point.

“Joren, this way!” Dono said as he motioned for the blast doors.

Joren ran over to Kenso where Kenso lay, writhing in pain from the surprise blaster shot that he had taken. He reached down and grabbed Kenso's blaster, then, for good measure slammed the butt of the weapon into the gang leader's temple, rendering him unconscious. He then made his way over to Kelsa and ran his hand over her shoulder and down her arm, as if you comfort her as well as making sure that she really was alright.

“You'll have time for that later. We gotta go.” Dono shouted as he activated the blast doors.
Dono immediately opened fire as the trio stepped out of the security room, surprising the Kath Hounds that stood guard. Joren fired off several shots as more Kaths raced toward them. Dono quickly went over to one of the fallen Kaths and retrieved their blasters, which had been confiscated when they were captured, and tossed Joren his. Joren held his blaster and felt a level of comfort with the familiarity with the weapon. He then handed Kelsa the blaster that he had taken from Kenso.

“You might need this.” He said.

“I don't even know how to shoot.” Kelsa protested.

“I can't think of a better time to learn.” He said as he grabbed her hand and led her as they began running down the corridor behind Dono.

“I can...!” Kelsa exclaimed as she followed.

They ran down the corridors, Dono, using the holomap in his HUD led the way. They passed two intersecting corridors, and then when they reached the third, they took a left and came to another intersecting corridor. They took a right, and made it to the door which would lead them out of the compound. However, someone shouted at them from the corridor just to the left of the exit.

“Don't move!” The voice shouted.

Joren looked toward the source of the command, and was shocked to see that it did not come from a member of the Kath Hounds, instead, it was from a white armor clad Imperial Stormtrooper, one of several who had leveled their weapons at the trio as they tried to escape. Joren raised his weapon and fired at the stormtroopers, taking them by surprise. Dono and Kelsa joined in, and by the time the door had opened, all six of the stormtroopers lay motionless on the floor.

“Come! This way!” Dono shouted as he led the other two toward the rendezvous that he and Nyna had agreed on.

“Get in!” Nyna cried as she brought the speeder to a screeching hault just as more Kath Hounds and stormtroopers made their way toward them.

Dono provided cover fire as Kelsa and then Joren jumped in the speeder, before jumping himself, still returning blasterfire at their pursuers.

“GO! GO! GO!” Dono yelled once he was in the speeder.

“Hang on to your seats!” Nyna shouted to the others as she put the speeder in gear and raced upward to the skylanes, where they disappeared into the evening traffic.

Anari inhaled deeply and breathed out slowly as she lowered her macrobinoculars and closed her eyes. The muffled hums of speeders and shuttles in the distance nearly lulled her to sleep. If it weren’t for two Stormtroopers on a distant adjacent platform turning around and returning inside the station, she might’ve succumbed. Her eyes briefly stung before the relief of moisture dulled the pain, and by the time they reopened she once again peered through the filthy window of her shoddy apartment to witness a new pair of white-clad soldiers fill the gaps. It was monotonous watching these grunts “work”—guarding a landing platform that saw no fresh arrivals in over thirty-six hours, slouched and lackadaisical.

But she could work with that. Imperials lax and unaware, believing themselves far from any danger this deep in the Core Worlds. With Coruscant so near and a mighty fleet looming over their heads, with Alsakan towers and monuments decorated with Imperial banners and imagery, one would find it hard to believe that an uprising was about to take place. Under their noses in the bowels of the ancient city, weeks of preparation were about to culminate into an attack that would knock one of the last few legs the Empire could stand on.

She raised her macrobinoculars high above the landing pad and settled on a wide dish angled towards the traffic-filled sky. A heavy flow of information traveled to and from it, helping keep the Empire’s web of communication far-reaching. The amount of transmissions the Alliance could intercept and make use of was incalculable. By planting a unique spike inside that system, High Command hoped that the wealth of knowledge they could obtain as their fleets pressed the attack into the Core could help force a complete and total surrender. Enemy movements could be tracked. False “all clear” signals could be sent to outlying fleets. And best of all, the many worlds still under the grip of Imperial rule would know that the war would soon be over, and the galaxy would know freedom once again.

Lowering her equipment, Anari glanced beneath her to eye a small metallic cup sitting beside her on the windowsill. She took it in hand and brought it to her lips, drinking away the last of the cold and bitter-tasting caf that remained inside. As she set it back down, a gentle chime rang in the darkness behind her.

She spun sharply towards it, her tired eyes struggling to adjust inside the darkened apartment. A hand shot to her left hip and gripped the handle of her scattergun. For the briefest moment she was more alert than she’d been for over a day, her body pumping with a sorely needed rush of adrenaline.

Then, she returned to her senses. She remembered that this rundown apartment without furnishing and any homeliness, with one untouched cot nestled in the corner and a busted light dangling above her, had one unique feature planted in the center of the room: a holoprojector.

It quietly buzzed with power; a blue light was cast from its center and from it the image of a Human male emerged. He wore his rank well on his chest, the color and pattern of General stood out even in holo form. Elik Weinost was a hard and calculating man, the same as the rest of his peers in the Alliance hierarchy. If it weren’t for his dark hair starting to whiten, one might think he was still in his prime. He was built strong with broad shoulders and a buff chest which was joined by an uncharacteristically wide smile.

“Agent Sato,” he started, sounding unusually enthusiastic. Unlike him. “How’s the Alsakan air this evening? It is evening there, isn’t it?”

Anari hesitated in answering. She glanced around the room, taking advantage of the sudden lightning to examine each corner. Nothing around. Not another soul.

“Wouldn’t know… I haven’t gone outside.” She replied in a tired tone, taking one last once-over of the room before allowing her blood to cool. Her hand withdrew from the grip of her scattergun, but she double-checked to make certain her sniper-configured blaster was resting against the wall beside her. As usual, it was. “I don’t have an update to give you.”

“But I do.”

“The fleets are finally in position then?” Anari asked, feigning what little enthusiasm she could muster—and it wasn’t much. “I’ve been waiting for over a week, and I’d like to get started.”

“Your objective hasn’t changed, but the methods you’ll use to get inside has. Furthermore… you’ll be receiving backup in a few hours to see this through.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, both expecting the other to continue the conversation. Elik knew her feelings about accepting aid she didn’t want nor need. It was one thing to be dispatched immediately and know who you’d be dealing with, and another entirely to have it sprung on you after a week’s worth of scouting, watching, and planning all on your own.

She broke the silence. “I clocked every TIE fighter patrol making a pass over that relay. I estimate the exact amount of time I need to reach that platform and get inside undetected. I sat here, I watched, and I waited, for days at a time…” Her voice was calm, but the fire in her eyes betrayed it. “All of it, only for you to tell me you’ve changed your mind and that I need someone to help me do my job?”

“The circumstances have forced undesirable transfers and updated mission parameters for everyone, Anari, not just yourself,” Elik said. “Colonel Trelleck has started to become anxious. Despite my greatest attempts to placate him, he will no longer update us on Moff Gyllard’s movements in the Alsaka Sector. He’s willing to risk his position entirely, but only if a full team is sent in to retrieve him and get him to Chandrila. One operative isn’t enough—and believe me, I talked you up.”

“Undesirable transfers”. “Updated mission parameters”. The Alliance had twenty-four hours in a day—more or less, depending on where they were situated—to plan the push for Coruscant. It was one thing if a fleet needed reinforcing, but it was another to make a solo act a duo or more. She didn’t want to waste her strength arguing the point. If Colonel Telleck wanted a larger safety net, so be it.

“Fine,” Anari muttered through her clenched jaw before turning her back on Elik. She closed the window’s blinds, leaving only the projection to cast light on her lithe figure. “What team have you sent?”

“The Diplomatic Advanced Reconnaissance Team, otherwise known as DART. It’s being led by a Captain Dev Arx, a man of action with the occasional habit of challenging his superior officers. He’s battle-tested and gets results wherever he goes. You’d like him.”

“You said diplomatic?” Anari repeated, skeptical.

“Yes. DART is typically an information-gathering unit; if the New Republic has interests in people, planets, or sectors, they’re one of the best to send in. They’re a capable group of individuals who can fill many different roles if need be. They’re also able to adapt to new and unforeseen circumstances, like this one.”

Her steely eyes returned to Elik’s figure, with her body following. “If this is the condition to get me inside, then so be it. I just don’t want them in the way.”

“Well, Dev is a Captain, so—”

“I don’t care, Weinost, and you know that.” Her disdain for pulling rank was well known. She respected those both capable and cunning, people who could keep a level head in a fight. Dev Arx’s title of Captain was meaningless. He’d prove himself during the operation, and she’d see the type of man he was for herself. “The “updated mission parameters” you mentioned… what’s changing for me?”

Elik’s jaw tensed as he gave her a tight smile, choosing not to let her infamous disregard for her superiors stop him from delving out critical information. Dev had a reputation, too. Maybe putting these two together was a bigger mistake than he realized, but it was too late to cancel DART’s orders.

“Instead of a flyby over the landing pad, Colonel Telleck has insisted that the new plan be entering from the bottom-most entrance of the building. It’s normally under heavy guard—just as you mentioned days prior—so he’s decided to feign orders from Moff Gyllard to fan out and search for insurgents reportedly seen in the area. The sentries will scatter and him with them, and he will use the distraction to meet both you and Cap—… with Dev at the coordinates I’m sending to you now.”

Elik turned and gestured to someone out of view. A notification sounded on her vambrace’s interface, which she examined in silence. Taking those coordinates and combining them with the carefully mapped out terrain above and beneath her, the location for the meeting point was near a shanty town in the poorer part of Alsakan's underworld. It was also conveniently located just a couple miles out from the nearest spaceport.

“You recognize it?” the General asked, eyeing her. “I can never tell what you’re thinking when you go quiet on me.”

“I know the place,” she confirmed, closing the coordinates and letting the projection fade away. “How does his extraction guarantee my entry?” Anari reached for her sniper-configured rifle and knelt down to retrieve a satchel containing its attachments; even with very little lighting, she was able to carefully disassemble the parts and create the pistol configuration, then stowed the parts inside the satchel. “He never gave you the layout inside. He’s holding out.”

“The Colonel claimed the layout was far from complex. He gave no other hint except one: a keycard is required to access the primary console and listening station. Should the mission go south, it can also be used to open the station’s power generator and disable it entirely. He'll provide it when you rendezvous with him.”

“That still doesn’t tell us where to find it,” she pointed out. “The guards go missing and we take the elevator up. What about the men inside to receive and send the signals?”

“An evacuation drill—again claimed to be Moff Gyllard’s orders. The personnel responsible for handling that information will evacuate from the building via a Lambda Shuttle and take off for the nearest planetary garrison. Fortunately for us, it’s far, far away. He guessed you’d have ten minutes or so to enter inside and take control of the relay.”

“He guessed.” She repeated the words, lightly shaking her head. “I prefer facts. What about remaining security inside?”

“Unknown.”

That brought her attention from the weapon in hand straight to Elik. The pistol slid into the holster against her right thigh, and the satchel containing her attachments was brought around her neck and underneath her right arm.

“Do I have to say it?” she asked.

“It’s sketchy. It’s flimsy. It’s treacherous.” Elik agreed, nodding his head with every term. He couldn’t shake the same feeling she did, but refusal meant the Colonel would sound the alarm, thus giving Coruscant time to send additional reinforcements, or simply reinforce what defenses they already possessed. “Treason is death, and once he goes through with his plan of action there won’t be any going back for him. Should we burn him on the extraction with DART, he’ll leave enough unknown variables to risk mission failure. Until he’s safe, he refuses to tell us anything more. Our hands are tied.”

Anari held her stare on Elik for a moment more before resuming her gathering of equipment. She left his view and vanished into the dark, and when she reemerged, she sported a belt containing three grenades across her waist. Under her left arm was a tattered brown cloak with frayed edges and more holes than he’d care to count. With it, she’d be able to blend in in the city slums. There was nothing rich about Alsakan beneath its towers. The underbelly of the world was every bit as cutthroat and dangerous as Coruscant’s.

“DART will be receiving access codes given to us by the Colonel and land at the nearest spaceport. Imperial Customs will be expecting a ship matching the description of their vessel, which he will claim is carrying a rare Alderaanian Wine cache he purchased from a third party to be presented to Moff Gyllard. Customs is ordered to leave them be as he wishes to make the shipment a surprise upon the Moff’s inspection.” Elik hesitated to continue once he noticed Anari’s eyes closed for an unusually long amount of time. “Did you get all that?”

“DART arrives in the system, receives coordinates from you provided by the Colonel, and enters orbit likely escorted by TIE fighters. The Colonel is notified that his shipment of Alderaanian Wine arrives by the spaceport authorities. He then fabricates an order received by Moff Gyllard, the man in charge of their fleet in orbit. He takes a detachment of soldiers, travels down the elevator to the underbelly of the relay tower, then orders every sentry to fan out in search of reported insurgents seen in the area. From there he meets with Dev and myself at the coordinates you’ve just provided to me.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him as though she expected to be corrected.

“That’s correct. It’s the best we could do. Between our dwindling timetable to secure that relay and Colonel Trelleck’s increasing paranoia, it’s the only set of steps he was willing to agree to.” Elik shrugged sheepishly. “It’s congested.”

“It’s sketchy, flimsy, and treacherous…” She shook her head. “Updated mission parameters I'd rather do without.”

“You’re telling me,” Elik agreed, pinching his nose and exhaling from his mouth. “There’s one other thing I forgot to tell you.” He stood straighter and looked over his shoulders, making certain unwanted ears weren’t sat among him. Once satisfied with his environment, he stepped closer to the audio transmitter. The projected image of him expanded. “This man was once one of General Madine’s subordinates—A Storm Commando. He carried out assignments that would make your stomach turn. Now, General Madine believes in second chances. But General Madine saw the kind of man he was and walked away before it was safe. Colonel Trelleck didn’t.”

Anari read between the lines. It was risky for General Weinost to insinuate going against another General’s expressed wishes, but Alliance Intelligence had always operated differently. People like Mon Mothma believed in second chances and redemption, that people had it in them to change if shown the error of their ways. But redemption—the opportunity to change—was a privilege they reserved for a select few.

Colonel Trelleck wasn't worthy. To her, no Imperial was.

“Accidents happen, as you and I both know.” Elik stepped away; his image reduced in size. “Expect DART to arrive in the next few hours. Admiral Ackbar’s fleet will be jumping to lightspeed shortly after they report their arrival.”

Anari nodded curtly. General Weinost’s image vanished and the transmission ended, leaving her to her thoughts. She leaned against the wall beside the window and shut her eyes, listening to the hum of speeders and shuttles outside. Sleep took hold in minutes.

Tyrell Omi-Ren // Nighthawk // Yavin 4

After leaving Master Skywalker Tyrell walked up the ramp and back into the ship, he neglected going to see Thriik and instead headed straight for the cockpit of the freighter. "Hey, Relaaaaani." She turned around in her chair, rolling her eyes before she responded.

"Hey, whaaaaaat?"

Tyrell leaned against one of the consoles near the back of the cockpit. "You can power up the nav computer. We're heading over to your favorite moon in the whole Galaxy." She rolled her eyes again as she turned around again. Tyrell could feel the annoyance radiating from the Twi'lek as she worked her way around the console, flicking switches and pressing buttons.

"I thought Grakkus' hidden cache wasn't on Nar Shadda anymore? When you said that I took it as 'Hey Relani, we won't actually need to go to Nar Shadda as there's nothing there anymore'. Ugh, the filthy moon." Tyrell chuckled, though frankly, her attempt at his voice was a little bit insulting, especially when there was still a slight hint of her Ryloth accent coming through underneath.

He sat down in one of the other chairs, though he wasn't yet quite brave enough to sit in the co-pilot chair as that was easily within striking distance. "I know you're not the biggest fan of Nar Shadda, but while we know Grakkus has a hidden vault somewhere, we also know it has a key. Since Grakkus is in Megalox he can't exactly access it, nor can we go and ask him nicely we'll need to check his place for the key."

Relani turned around in her chair. "Wait, why don't we just go to the Vault, then do the whole lightsaber cut act?" Tyrell gave her a sheepish grin and ducked as she threw her caf cup at him. "You don't even know where it is?!" Tyrell reached his hand out and called the cup up with the Force and into his waiting appendage.

"You know that's not how this works." He closed his eyes, the cup hovering above his hand. Twisting and turning. "We get a lead, we follow the lead and the lead leads us to our destination."

"Ah yes, the echoes in the Force." He nodded as he opened his eyes, causing the cup to drift through the air towards its original point on the console of the ship.

"Yup, and that's how we succeed this time, oh. Before I forget, are the spare quarters decent?"

"Yes, why'd you ask?"

"We're getting a new crewmember."

“They aren’t going for the Blackstar!” Maran said incredulously as he read the trajectory data from his computer, he couldn’t believe his eyes, hardly anybody in Obsidian squad could. The bombers were going for the civilians.

“What they hell are they doing?” Jarael yelled out.

“Not even Blanche is this crazy!” Liam added, every bit as bewildered as his friends.

“Obsidian-1 to Warhead bombers, those are civilians, aren’t they? What are you doing?” Ben shouted into the open comms. A moment had passed, and they hadn’t received anything further.

“Unleash me!” Blanche growled into the radio.

“New orders. O7, O4, engage and disable the bombers. Everybody else, on me, we’re giving cover.” Ben was starting to sound stressed; his voice was lower, and he had left an unintentional pause at the end of his words.

“Understood.” Both Liam and Blanche replied. It might have been imagination, but he could swear he could hear genuine anger in Blanche’s reply.

The bombers…he wants to kill them...

Liam tapped a button several times and swung his sights over the bombers, marking them as targets. He took a deep breath in, exhaled slowly, and then settled his hands over his flight stick. TIE-Bombers, while also unshielded, they had much more armor than fighters.

He twisted his yoke and dropped in behind one of the bombers, their escort fighters peeled away into an arc towards his rear. Putting trust in his friends, Liam stayed his course, and held down the missile lock button. A blue triangle settled over the bomber and a rapid beeping began, it turned to yellow, and Liam’s eyes darted to his radar.

There was a fighter on his tail right now, instinct told him to jerk his hands and move the stick. Get out! His insides screamed, and then the fighter suddenly broke starboard. A stream of green lasers had cut it off, coming too close to the cockpit for the pilot to even think about continuing.

“Stay on target, O7.” Ben had said reassuringly, and Liam sighed in relief. The beeping from his targeting computer had become rapid now, the bomber was shifting from side to side, no longer on an attack vector with the civilian frigate, and had focused on trying to lose him.

“Sorry, but it’s your bad luck being in a bomber.” Liam flicked his thumb and two missiles launched from underneath his cockpit, and violently slammed into the bomber, causing it to buck. Smoke was coming from the engine area and it was maneuvering even slower, giving Liam an easy shot at the solar wings. A burst of green flashing, then a moment later it was swerving into a violent spin away from the battlefield.

That’s one..

Laim set his sights onto another bomber just as it shot past him and the rest of Obsidian. He swiveled on his wing and flew behind it. The pilot had his ship in a spin, making it harder for the computer to lock on, and the civilian ship wasn’t moving for some reason; even if it was there was no doubt even one bomber would cause critical damage.

Once he has that lock…all those people..

“I won’t let you!” Liam kicked his TIE into high speed, he was already too far from the bomber for accurate shots, but he could at least grab his attention. As his TIE screeched towards the bomber Liam held down his trigger finger, the lasers danced close and around the bomber, causing it to brake off to port, and dived into a barrel roll.

Liam followed through on high throttle, he managed to catch a part of the wing as they leveled out, but the bomber dived under him. Liam shoved his stick forward and followed into the bomber’s dive, but he was still travelling at a higher speed, and had to compensate with a broader turn. Allowing the bomber to set his sights on Liam’s rear, but before he could fire, Liam had shifted his stick to the side and ratcheted his throttle all the way down.

His fighter turned only 45 degrees, drifted, and swiftly turned. The bomber was still coming at high speed and zoomed by Liam’s viewport as he painted its sides with laser bolts. The wings surged with ionic energy, but it wasn’t enough, the bomber was still flying. It was now within firing range of the frigate and signaled this by unleashing a stream of green lasers.

Lasers, not bombs, it’s still locking on probably…but..

Instead of the soft blue wavy pattern of shields, sparks and light particle explosions blackened the once red hull of the frigate.
“Dammit!” Liam shouted as he shifted his sights towards the cockpit and squeezed his fingers. A volley of green lasers left his underside, and pocketed holes into the bomber. Both bods of the fighter warped and twisted as plasma erupted outwards, consuming the ship in a fiery explosion.

Liam lined up with Blanche and together they took on the remaining bombers with support from the rest of Obsidian and occasionally Eson. The bombers with increasingly dwindling support had stood no chance against them.

“New contact!” One of the Eson fighters had shouted into the team comms.

“It’s not a TIE!” The same voice continued, suddenly strained.

<Eson-5: Lost>

“That’s an Imperial fighter?”

<Eson-3: Lost>

“Eson, O7, what’s going on?”

“We got most of the TIEs, but this last one is different.” A voice responded, determined.

“We could use some backup! Guaa-“

“O7, engaging new target.” Liam tapped at his computer and brought up the targeting computer on this new threat. The display gave him an image of it. It wasn’t a TIE in any sense, the wings were narrow and triangular, along with the main cockpit area. It was grey and black like other Imperial fighters, but the computer was reading varying engine outputs. Like it was changing every second.

“Roger, O7, forming on you.” Blanche had said.

Liam brought his sights onto the new fighter and started locking his missiles onto him, the pilot tried to break off but support fire form Blanche and the rest of Eson squad boxed it in. As soon as the triangle turned red on his screen, he squeezed the button and the missiles trailed away, but the fighter broke hard to port, causing his missiles to shoot right past.

Liam brought his TIE over and lopped behind it, but as he did that, he somehow lost the fighter and it reappeared in his aft view. Yanking the stick hard to starboard and pulling it back, Liam wrangled his TIE up and to the side, then inverted and rolled hard to the left. His ship jolted slightly as a single bolt managed to burn off the tip of his port wing, sparks jumped from the side of his cockpit as the power momentarily fluctuated.

Damn, I really wish we had shields..

Liam jumped into a roll, bringing the TIE onto the ‘side’ of its port wing, then pulled hard on his stick, yanking the TIE up and away from its original course. The fighter managed to stay with him in a tight arc before pulling hard to starboard as a stream of laser fire chased its ion trails.

“We don’t have time to get shot down, O7!” Blanched growled into the radio, he was getting in on the action now. Looking at the radar, Liam was sure Blanche’s next barrage would nail him, then the fighter just barely pitched right, and back towards him.

Liam held down his trigger, only for the fighter to roll through, then under it and flew right through the gap in his wings.

“He’s playing you guys like fiddles, watch a pro!” O6, Maran, had joined the dogfight, swooping in above both Liam and the new ship, and fired his own barrage. The triangular ship narrowly dodged by pitching ‘downwards’.

“Where’s that pro?” Blanche teased Maran.

“This one’s good, Obsidian, target that Tri-ship.” O1 ordered, apparently having dealt with the rest of the enemies, or at least deeming this one a priority threat. O2 followed his lead and together they shot into the Tri-ship’s tail, unleashing a volley of lasers and a wave of missiles. Liam, Blanche, and Maran surrounded it, boxing it in with their own lasers, but it wasn’t enough. Each time it narrowly dodged the lasers and juked to its sides as the missiles closed in, causing them to miss and fly off.

It came around again for Liam, right on his tail, and then a web of laser fire cut it off. The Tri-fighter seemed to have had enough and jetted away from all of them, they were about to give chase before a new voice came onto the radio.

“Strike squad to Obsidian and Eson. Prepare to receive new orders.” Liam acknowledged them as one of the reserve squads from the Blackstar. Looking at his radar he tracked them, along with their own bomber squadrons. But the Blackstar herself...

“She’s leaving the battlefield?”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The SSD Lazarus, Somewhere in the Unknown Regions

Admiral Lez'Kava'Layro, or as she was known by her Core name, Kava, sat behind her semi circular desk within her personal office. The dark gray durasteel that made up the walls gave the space an uninviting appearance. The office space was completely bereft of decorations. There was no artwork hanging from the walls or otherwise displayed throughout the room. This was in stark contrast to her predecessor, who had also used this space has his personal office. At that time, portraits of the Admiral and his family adorned the walls, as well as certificates and other honors that he had accumulated over his years of service. There were also relics and other keepsakes that he had acquired, including his favorite piece, the tooth of a krayt dragon, which he kept in a transparisteel case on his desk, prominently placed for any who entered his office to see.

However, now there was nothing there that could humanize the Admiral. This was by design. It served as a reminder to anyone who entered the office that had a singular focus, and that was to restore the Galactic Empire to glory.

For five years, her fleet had remained hidden in the Unknown Regions waiting for the right time to strike. During that time, she had been keeping appraised of the situation in the larger galaxy through various means, including sending spies out into the galaxy with the sole purpose of delivering her the information that she needed to plan.

To say that the last five years had been eventful would be an understatement. A New Republic had formed, though it was not as strong as it would like to portray to the galaxy at large. Somewhere in the galaxy, one of the heroes of the Rebellion, the one who had supposedly been responsible for the death of not only the Emperor, but Lord Vader as well, Luke Skywalker, had set out to resurrect the Jedi Order. As for the Empire, it had not so much fallen as it had fractured. Former Imperials setting out on the galaxy, happy to carve out a piece for themselves. Setting themselves up as second rate despots to rule over those who would allow it.

The weak leading the weaker. Kava found it to be a pathetic turn of event.

And then there was Ozzel. He had managed to remain in the seat of power on Coruscant, however, according to her spies, he was content with his current situation. He appeared to have no intention of reclaiming territory that had been lost to the rebels. As far as she was concerned, he might as well be working with the rebels themselves, because his inaction was nothing short of treason.

“The fool.-” Kava spat as she read the information from the datapad in her hands, detailing what her spies had learned of the Imperium's plans, or lack thereof, as it were. “-Old age has not been kind to Ozzel. It;s made him weak. Complacent. This...this is not acceptable.”

“Agreed Admiral.-” Captain Bryce nodded as his superior's words echoes his own thoughts on the matter. “-There were also some reports of the rebel fleet amassing near Utrost. It could be possible that they are planning some sort of attack. Though, I believe such an attack would be foolhardy.”

“No, not in the least. Utrost is just a short jump to Coruscant. It would give the rebels a staging ground for a larger invasion.” Kava retorted without taking her eyes from the datapad.

“You think they're going after Coruscant?” Bryce asked, his voice filled with astonishment.

“Coruscant has been the capital of the ruling government for thousands of years. There are some in the galaxy who are sentimental, and will not accept a new government who rules from another seat of power. So yes, it would make sense for the rebels to make a play for Coruscant.” Kava said, finally bringing her crimson eyes to meet her captain's gaze.

“That is...a good point.” Bryce said finally.

“Captain, contact the Dominus, begin preparations.-” She said as she put the datapad down on the desk. “-I want the fleet mobilized in four hours.” She said with a smile.

“And our destination, Admiral?” Bryce asked, already knowing the answer. His suspicions confirmed when she answered him with a grin.

“We're going home.”

_{The Forward Thrust, Corubalni Spaceport, Vandor}

---

Dev was shocked as the transmission ended over the holotable in the main chamber. Hit seemed ambivalent, but Rexa was pissed. As for the Rodian politician... he immediately began pacing and muttering under his breath. As soon as Rexa took a moment to breathe, she turned to the Rodian and stopped him. "Minister Kaal, we will return as soon as possible. Alright? In fact, as you heard, Republic operatives will be here soon with a more official protection detail. The Republic does not turn their backs on those who reach out for aid."

The Twi'lek's voice seemed comforting enough that the Rodian was able to slowly nod his head. Dev even bothered to chime in as he began moving over to the armory. "The Imperials think you're dead, and Kesslar has been dealt with. If you lie low, you should be fine until Republic operatives find you."

That last voice of confidence was enough for Minister Kaal, who quickly left The Forward Thrust with his hood up to find his way back to his residence. As Dev quickly began moving the weapons into a hidden compartment in the floor of the armory, a quick glance showed that Rexa wasn't buying it. The Captain sighed, got up and motioned for Hit to finish hiding the weapons. Rexa made her way to the cockpit, and Dev followed. "Rexa, we have-"

If that usually bubbly Twi'lek had a look that could kill, the look she flashed her Captain would be it. Even the hardened commando stopped speaking for a moment as the Twi'lek took the pilot's seat. Dev sat down as co-pilot as the Twi'lek was simply shaking her head, her jaw clenched, before speaking. "We aren't done here. We had Kaal right where we wanted him... and now we would have to rebuild that trust. That is, if the Imperials don't catch wind that he's alive or has a connection to the New Republic. And who knows how long it will take-"

"We have orders." While Dev's tone was softer than usual, it was still firm. His eyes were locked on Rexa, who closed her eyes to avoid having to see her Captain staring at her. "Command has ordered us back to base for a mission critical to the New Republic's push for the Core. I understand that you're angry, but I need you and Hit to be on top of your game. We'll have a full debrief on Chandrilla. Once that mission is clear we can return here to finish our work." Dev gave a slight nod and was silent as Rexa began flicking switches and getting the craft ready for takeoff. He began doing his part, and The Forward Thrust was up in no time. But as the ship began pulling away from the rather quiet spaceport, Dev looked back to the woman who had recruited him into the Rebel Alliance nearly a decade earlier. "Are we clear?"

Through gritted teeth, Rexa simply responded, "Crystal clear, Captain."

_{Hangar D7, Republic Command, Chandrilla}

---

Dev watched as the crates were being loaded into his ship, his crew of two lounging on spare crates as they watched on as well. The Captain turned his gaze to Rexa, who seemed to have cooled off upon their arrival at Republic Command. Of course, Dev was able to guess it was because of the covers they were given. Rexa was posing as a freelancer shipper, and the Captain of The Forward Thrust. Though, what he wasn't able to guess was Rexa's investment in taking the core. Especially Coruscant. After all, she had a score to settle... and if this mission was going to get them a step closer to that, then she would do it.

Dev turned to Hit, who was furiously tapping away at a datapad. "Clear the encryption yet?"

After a few more taps, the Zabrak gave a smile. "What do you think I am, a complete amateur? The clearance protocols were still from the rebellion." She held the datapad out to the Captain, who took it with a nod.

Dev paced around as he looked through the files. It was detailed... and looked kind of familiar. "Joined at a young age, worked for intelligence... personality profile shows deep disdain for the Empire and a focus on completing objectives... constantly points out flaws in the fighting style of fellow soldiers..." Rexa and Hit both shared a look as Dev continued on. "Sergeant Sato is a killing machine, it seems. Has a lot of unneeded deaths on her record. Something we'll have to keep an eye on, as our goal is stealth."

Dev handed the datapad back to Hit as he saw the Republic hangar crew giving the thumbs up to signal The Forward Thrust was ready for takeoff. The Captain motioned for his team to follow and board the ship. Hit trailed behind as Rexa rushed up to match Dev's speed. "Captain... what do you think about this? If Colonel Trelleck is compromised..."

The Captain's eyes remained firmly ahead as he boarded the ship, and made his way directly to the crates. As his two subordinates arrived, the Captain began opening up one of the crates and lifting up the cases of wine. He then tapped on the bottom of the crate in the four corners, and a panel opened up revealing two Pyro Denton charges. "Our primary objective is to make sure the Imperial fleet isn't notified of our assault on Alsakan. If Colonel Trelleck holds out on us, or if his intel is incorrect... we've got a last resort. Either way, our orders are to bring Trelleck to Chandrilla once this is over. Whether it's for interrogation or a debriefing, that's out of our hands."

Trycond sat with his eyes close deep in thought as the faint red glow of his Holocron covered both his face and room. Taking slow steady almost unnoticeable breaths as he cleared his mind of distractions delving deeper into the Holocron hovering open before him. He could feel it, change was coming to the galaxy and if he wasn't ready he would part of the old destroyed to make room for the new.

“Show me what I need to do. Show me where I need to go so that I can become more powerful.” He called out in a calm voice that was slowly filled with more emotion. Feeding into his emotions Trycond began to see the rough image of a vision appearing before him. “What is it? tell me.” as he continued to push farther he began to see the image of a long angular ship that seemed as though it was glaring at him. “I need to see more where you are leading me.” as if by command the vision spread out showing him more of the surrounding city. The light suddenly cut off from the Holocron as it fell to the ground with a soft thud. Tryconds eyes shot open with a look of recognition. “Of course. The former empire home. The great city-planet of Coruscant.” rising from his place on the ground Trycond lifted his hand calling the Holocron back to himself as he exited the room.

Reaching the cockpit Trycond took his seat at the helm before turning to his trusted droid. “R5 set course for Coruscant. With any hope, we will be in and out before anyone can pay us any mind.”

Kaylee Starsmore was in her quarters gathering everything that she might need for the mission that Master Skywalker had just tasked her with. Excitement coursed through her as she packed a bag for the journey. She made sure that she had her data pad and her med kit, as well as several sets of civilian clothes. Though Luke hadn't shared with her exactly what the mission would entail, she knew that the existence of the New Jedi Order was still a secret to most, and due to years of the Empire's anti-Jedi propaganda, the general view of the Order itself was complicated at best. So she felt that it was perhaps prudent not to advertise her presence.

As she was placing the last of her things into a duffel bag, there was a knock at her door. She hadn't been expecting anyone, though she suspected that it may have been Master Skywalker coming to give her the final details of her mission.

“Come in.” She called out to whoever had knocked.

No sooner had the words left her lips than Horn and Rush both entered her room. Horn was what many people would consider a good looking man. Tall and powerfully built with long blond hair and a matching, well trimmed beard. Rush was was tall and wiry, with dark hair which was usually pulled back in a high ponytail and sported a short black beard. As usual, both men were sporting their Jedi robes, Horn in his gray and blue wear, and Rush in his black and brown robes.

Wow, it didn't take long for word to spread. Kaylee thought to herself as she regarded her two friends.

“Sneaking off without saying goodbye?” Horn teased, a big grin plastered across his face.

“Not cool.” Rush chimed in with his arms folded over his chest and a look of mock disapproval on his face.

“No, not at all. Lu-Master Skywalker just kind of sprung this on me.” Kaylee told them.

“I'm happy for you. You're ready for this.” Horn told her. Coming from him, that meant a lot. Though they had grown close in the time that they've been training together at the Praxeum, Horn was more than just her friend, he was her mentor. He had almost as much to do with her training as Master Skywalker had, and his word carried a lot of weight. Hearing his words of encouragement helped to calm the fears that she had, the fears that she was not ready, that she was in over her head.

“He's right.-” Rush added. “-you're one of the best Jedi here, and you're ready to take the next step. You've got this.” Rush told her in a more serious way than his normal demeanor.

“Thanks guys. Really, it means a lot.-” She said as she grabbed her bag and headed toward the door. “-but I have to get out to the landing pad, they're expecting me any minute, and I really don't want to be late to my first mission.”

A short time after saying goodbye to her friends, Kaylee made her way to the landing pad where she found the freighter that would be taking her on her mission with the recently arrived Jedi, Tyrell Omi-Ren. She tingled with anticipation as she made her way up the entry ramp, and she stopped just outside of the open door. Not wanting to surprise the occupants of the freighter, she announced her presence.

“Hello?-” She called to anyone inside the ship who might be nearby. “-I'm Kaylee Starsmore, I understand we have a mission.”

The fighters swung around, forming up on the stealth ship matching its course towards the planet itself.

"I am Tarak. I come to battle against the Republic. I come for glory."

Besh rolled his eyes as the response came through. He clicked his comm back onto the local net between his pilots and the resolute. "Place your bets people, Rebel Infiltrator, Bounty Hunter, or Glory Seeker." Before the others could respond he clicked his comm back onto the open channel. "You will be escorted to the Resolute where you will then be questioned. You will be treated fairly, and so long as you do not appear to be a threat to the Grand Imperium. Failure to comply and your ship will be disabled."

---

Captain Micanti sighed as an unexpected blip appeared across his screen. A YT-2000 had entered the system. No transmission was being sent to the fleet, no clearance codes. Nothing. Slowly the Customs vessel crept towards the freighter, already trying to get a tractor beam lock. She nodded to the communications officer who sent a targeting transmission to the vessel.

"Attention unidentified YT-two-thousand. You have breached Grand Imperium space without a permit or transmission codes, transmit codes now or prepare to be boarded."

Captain Lorrange fidgeted with the end of her ponytail with one hand, twirling it in between her fingers.

The fighters are busy with each other, that means we’re safe for now, but we can’t tip the balance like this. Should I send out bombers anyways?

“Ma’am, Warhead just sent out bombers and fighter reinforcements!”

Merril grimly smiled to herself.

Is it inexperience or something else?

“Alert our fighters, standby bomber crews!”

Physically, the Blackstar and the Warhead were the exact same, and neither were fast enough to outmaneuver the other; at least not in the way a starfighter could. A prolonged fight between the two could result in her victory, but with heavy losses, and she can’t just wait and hope for the fighters to cripple the Warhead.

What about Arbya, what does it offer?

“Sensors, tell me about this system.”

“U-uh, one moment ma’am.” The sensor officer looked puzzled and then started working her console, the ship shook slightly.

“A tropical planet, hosting a few small resorts, occasionally universities host a field trip here for the wildlife related professions, or as a diversion for their students.”

“If it’s so nice, why isn’t there more civilization?”

“There’s a system wide hazard warning in place. There are pockets of trionomic gas that escape the planetoid near Arbya, easily avoidable, but highly volatile in contact with weapons fire.” It didn’t quite answer her question, but she was starting to birth an idea, a plan even. She twirled the ends of her hair through her fingers again, and then turned towards the commsman on the right side.

“Launch reserve fighters and bomber squadrons. Tell them to meet us on the other side of the planet Arbya. Then evacuate the ventral hangar and lower decks, tell them to proceed deeper into the ship.”

“Ma’am? Um, Aye!”

“Readjust course, towards the planetoid. Reroute weapons power temporarily, maximum engines, deflectors double rear.”

“Ma’am, are we running?” The helmsman turned and asked, looking troubled.

Is he worried about the fighters, or about being a coward?

“I swear on my honor to you as your Captain, we will never run from a fight, but I will win this one. Now carry out my orders.” Merril said in short fashion, burning her determination into the young man’s eyes.

The next few moments were suspenseful, they were no longer fighting back, appearing every bit as cowardly as her helmsman seemed to think she was. The insides of the ship continued to shake as turbolaser fire crashed into their rear shields, creating a sea of plasma as it splashed off the hemispherical barrier outside.

The planetoid was getting closer and could be seen clearly through the viewport, there were dozens of red splotches across its surface, likely a result of the gas and natural planet activity.

“Ma’am, we’re nearing the planetoid now.”

“Cycle the environmental systems for the ventral hangar and lower levels, we’ll siphon the gas into the ship. But we won’t make it obvious, begin venting drive plasma until I say stop. We’ll get as much as we can on our way around it to the dark side of Arbya.”

“Ma’am, if just one of their weapons hits that gas…”

“That’s what the deflectors are for.”

“Ma’am, if we lose too much plasma, we’ll start to lose engine power.”

“Noted.”

“Captain, I’ve agreed with your decisions thus far. But wouldn’t the Captain of the Warhead see through this? He has the same information you do.” Her executive officer, Mantelli Rousten, who usually stood in the back, had suddenly approached her with a protest.

You too?

“He likely can have it, but I’m counting on his character forcing him into this. He seems to want to use intimidation as his primary tactic, so his bridge crew isn’t likely to interrupt with information.” During her time as a junior officer she had seen Captain’s like that too, even the former captain of the Blackstar had a habit of shutting down his men; which happened to be the lead up to his violent demotion.

“He fired on us first, if we slugged it out our mutual destruction is nearly guaranteed. This tells me he’s arrogant, he believes he can sink us first, or that his fighters can do it for him. He won’t bother to ask, believing this natural phenomenon to be harmless.”

Although, the latter is the same for me regarding damage.

“Lastly, he shot at us for a reason, he wants us. I’ll use that and let him think he has us.” She concluded, her face and posture were confident, but inside she was worried. A mutiny was the last thing she needed.

“Any more concerns?” Merril gazed around the bridge, doing her best to project that confident image she desired. Mantelli seemed to think for a moment, then backed off to the corner, near the defensive station, and nodded. The bridge remained quiet, aside from the beeping of various consoles, and the muffled hum of the environmental systems, until the woman manning the sensor console spoke up.

“Ma’am, gas collection complete, we are now passing the planetoid.”

“Understood, bring us towards the dark side of Arbya.” Merril reiterated her orders. With the additional power from their weapons and lower deck support going into shields and engines, they were faster, and tougher than the Warhead; and those were what they needed to see this through. The ship shuttered, and sparks jumped from some of the consoles around the bridge.

Damage is bleeding through now..

“Shields at thirty percent, ma’am.” The defensive officer in the back said, never taking his eyes off his screen.

“Distance between us and the Warhead?”

“We’ve gained distance, about two kilometers outside their range, but we’re losing speed. We’ll only have a few seconds to ourselves once we’ve reached the dark side of Arbya, Ma’am.” The helmsman replied, with more resolve than he had before.

Looking through the viewport, a large mass had been ‘approaching’ for the last few seconds, plentiful masses of blue and green, with several groups of misty gray blobs adorning the upper hemisphere. It was a pleasant sight, giving Merril the idea of stopping somewhere for shore leave, until a shadow slowly started swallowing the planet. They were losing the light, now hiding behind Arbya.



The Blackstar had turned with its tail between its legs, leaking drive plasma, all the way towards Arbya. They were undoubtably trying to lose the Warhead, but their ships were evenly matched, and whatever lead she had gained she was now losing due to damage. That first unguarded volley had been the key in this battle.

The captain of the Warhead stood right in front of the viewport, his hands crossed behind his back, in a thoughtful pose, and his face held a slight smirk. Confident of his victory.

“It seems the Blackstar’s captain is every bit as cowardly and unworthy as I thought she was. The captain of a star destroyer is no place for an unexperienced woman.” He mused to himself. A couple officers in the data pits looked at each other, and then back down at their computers.

The Blackstar’s leaking drive had been an annoyance, he would have liked to have seen their damaged and smoking body as it ran, but at least he would be able to witness their death when their engines dried up.

“We are now approaching firing range, Sir!” The weapons officer in the back of the bridge announced.”

“Maximum firepower, all guns ahead.”

“Aye, sir!”

Imperium Lord Koren Ozzel // IMPERIAL PALACE // CORUSCANT

Koren sat pouring over data through various datapads. If the Rebels continued to push towards Coruscant he would have to make a counter-move. He couldn't let them take another world and hold it. Things were already in motion, he had contacted who he had needed to contact, ships were on their way from Byss and the deep core to reinforce Coruscant, from there he could send them out to reclaim territory. Including his secret weapons. Koren rubbed his head as he could begin to feel a migraine come on. Things were much more complicated than they had used to be. Under Palpatine life was simple, there was the occasional attempt at a career assassination aimed in his direction but for the most part he was allowed to keep on doing his job to the best of his ability, which was good enough for Palpatine in keeping the Core Systems working an in line with the Empires goals.

In the last five years? He had faced constant scrutiny, undermining and attempts at removing him from power both politically and by more forceful measures. Now he had to worry about losing territory to an enemy force, and if he continued to lose to said enemy force then he would start to lose his own people. Some of them would flee into the New Republic offering information and resources one exchange for immunity, others would try and hide within enemy territory. The more dangerous ones were the ones with grand ambitions, who would steal resources and personnel to try and cut themselves their own little slice of the pie. There was a chime at the door as his aide walked in carrying a cup of caf as well as a datapad. There was a look of tiredness on his face that matched Korens own, that of a boy trying to do the work of a man. He was young, yes, but he didn't have the years of sleep-deprived nights to have him ready for the schedule that Koren was currently keeping. If it could be called that.

"Sir, the communication from Moff Gyllard, Governor Eron and Governor Intran is ready for you in the conference room once you are. All parties are present and are ready to give their daily brief on the situation from their respective situations."

Doing paperwork was one of the most boring parts of his jobs, but it was necessary. When you administered great deals of land more and more paperwork became necessary to keep it afloat. However, while things would become a bit more exciting when the middle aged man flipped to his next page.

Mandalorian pockets are surfacing across the galaxy, many clans seemingly coming out of hiding. Though he had suspected many would reveal themselves with the fracturing of the empire, the number of them at once was surprising. He had thought he had been thorough with his methods, evidently not. This... was a bit of a problem. They would no doubt seek to free their homeworld as well as the surrounding systems. But... couldn't let that happen.

A sigh forced its way through his nose as he stood up from his desk, walking toward the large glasteel window that showed a breathtaking view of the city. The gleaming capital of mandalore, with dark banners hanging off many of the skyscrapers. He would protect this city with his life, to prevent it from being destroyed by those savages. How many times has this world fallen into civil war? How many innocents have died because of those barbarians? Too many. Too many to count. It was his duty to establish peace in this sector, no one else could do it, that was for sure. Drawing his holophone from his pocket, he taps a few buttons and connects to the several star destroyers orbitting the sector. "Begin preparations for departure. We have work to do."

Jedi Knight Tyrell Omi-Ren // NIGHTHAWK // YAVIN 4
^{@nitemare shape}

Tyrell stood as he heard the faint shouting from someone from deeper into the ship. "That'll be our newest crew member."

Relani laughed. "Well, you better go meet her before she meets Thriik." He shrugged his shoulders as he sauntered out.

Deeper into the ship Kaylee was entering shouting. Then out of the shadows came a Gotal, standing at five feet even he looked kind compared to the rest of his species though there was still something menacing about him especially when he came from out in the shadows. "What are you doing here?" Despite his sophisticated clothes, and the way he held himself he still struggled with his Caprinae roots and bleated through his sentences.

"Have you come to take away some of our relics? Confiscate them for your Jedi Order much like your predecessors?