Kaylee Starsmore/Aboard the NIGHTHAWK/Yavin IV
@sep


As Kaylee made her way through the ship, she was startled when a Gotal suddenly emerged from the shadows, making his presence know. The creature questioned her presence on the ship, and then accused her of being there in order to steal the Jedi relics that they had collected during their time together, then accused the Jedi that had come before of doing much the same.

"What?-" She asked, startled by not only the creature's sudden appearance, but by the accusation as well. "-by the stars, no. I'd never..." her words trailed off for a moment.

The Gotal had taken her by complete surprise. The abruptness that he displayed was not something that she was accustomed to. She wondered to herself why this creature was so hostile toward her. Clearly, he did not trust outsiders, which of course, she was. But there almost seemed to be something else to his line of questioning.

Something deeper.

"I'm sorry, my name is Kaylee Starsmore, Master Skywalker sent me to assist a Tyrell Omi-Ren on his mission." She said, trying to start the introduction over.

Although Merril had only a few space battles under her belt, she really lamented the fact that the captain didn’t have his/her own seat or display; without looking down at her officer’s stations, she had only the view port to look out through. Right now, there was nothing tactical to see, they were on the night side of Arbya, its moon a few dozen kilometers ‘underneath’ them, and nothing but stars everywhere else. Aside from the trailing teal cloud of drive plasma behind them.

She stepped into the datapit, leaned over her helmsman, looked at his screen, and mentally counted the seconds as the symbols representing her ship and the Warhead circled around Arbya.

“Release the trionomic gas and close drive vents. Gunnery station, charge weapons!” Merril ordered and several officers began to go to work. Watching the screen carefully, she could see the Warhead would be within firing range in only a few seconds, but they had lost too much speed, they wouldn’t be able to totally escape the explosion.

“Bring us around, prepare for starboard broadside, rotate deflectors! All, hands, brace for impact!”

“Aye rotate ship, starboard broadside.” Her helmsman acknowledged.

“Aye!” The commsman had switched on the intercom, and the captain heard her order repeated out loud.

“All hands, brace for impact! Secure all equipment, all hands brace!”

Another alarm started blaring, the bridge crew had placed their arms on wall mounts or around their consoles. Merril had attached herself to the navigation computer and awaited the next few moments, while a wave of anxiety washed over her. She felt her heart pounding a hole through her chest and desperately wanted to shut her eyes. But the ship needed her, and that anxiety might just get worse if she did that.

Did I do this right? Will we weather the explosion and the Warhead? Should I have just waited for the fighters?

“Engines losing power, shunting reserves.” The helmsman had said, for a moment, Merril thought she could feel the complicated hydraulics of her engines going to work. The Blackstar’s engines flickered on and off before they finally darkened, leaving the ship to drift port, like it was ‘sliding’ through space.

The Warhead eagerly approached and fired as soon as they were able. Streams of giant green bolts flashed across kilometers of empty space and disappeared into the giant teal cloud. Branches of energy raced excitedly through the plasma and the gas, working with each other and pulsing through it all, sparking a giant incandescent explosion that splashed the front of the Warhead.

A translucent blue barrier shielded it for a moment, but thanks to their earlier battle, it wasn’t enough. The Warhead dipped from the force of the explosion, their hull blackened, and several smaller explosions painted the top side as it was pushed away.

The Blackstar’s own shields appeared for a moment but were blown away, as if scrubbed away by an invisible arm. The entire crew had propped themselves up on whatever they could, and then it came. The raging arm of the explosion, while mitigated by distance and their shields, was enough to make the ship violently shake.

Several stormtroopers were glad to have been donning their armor, having been tossed to the other side of their room or a hallway, dozens of officers had been thrown from their stations, or stumbled while resisting the quaking. Throughout the ship power several power relays close to the shield power conduits spat out sparks as the barrier collapsed, sending jolts all the way up to the generators.

But neither ship was crippled, just dazed, and this time the Blackstar had the advantage.

“Target weapons emplacements, fire!”



“While the Blackstar draws off the Warhead, we are to reunite behind Arbya at point five-five and flank the Warhead. Form up on us, we’re to lead the way for the bombers.” The leader of the reinforcing squads had said.

“Roger, Obsidian, forming up.” O1 said, without further words the rest of the squad had jumped into an arrow like formation, with Liam slightly further in the back.

“O7, that’s not your position, what’s going on?”

Liam started flipping switches on his right side, trying to manage the technical side of his engines, some were either not responding or spat sparks at him for his efforts.

“That weird fighter clipped me earlier, it’s messing with my engines. I can still keep up.”

“Understood, just don’t push it.”

Strike led the way, with Obsidian, the remnants of Eson, and the bombers; all forming ‘waves’ of arrows. Even though fighters were fast and agile, they weren’t that fast compared to capital ship engines, meeting up with the Blackstar was going to take a minute or so. With the empty backdrop of space, this was the perfect time to reflect on the recent encounter, whether he wanted to or not.

That fighter left almost as soon as the Warhead did, if the Blackstar hadn’t drawn it off….

Liam slammed his fist down onto the edge of his console, eliciting a dull thud, and a jolt of pain rushed through his hand. He tried to stop himself from thinking, hoping that venting even a little would help, but it didn’t.

“…We would have died...” His voice said shakily, a soldier must always be prepared for death, he knew that much. But he couldn’t accept how one sided that had been.

Another silent minute passed with just the muffled screeching of his engines to accompany him, before his computer started beeping, new contacts. The Blackstar and Warhead were within sensor range again, and he was surprised at what he was seeing.

The Warhead was drifting slightly, with a cloud of teal mist surrounding it, like it had just tried to fly through a giant cloud of cotton candy. The Blackstar was firing on it, dealing back everything it had suffered double fold, which breathed new life into him. His squad, his friends, his ship were still alive, and he was going to keep it like that.

“Time to do what we were supposed to, target their engines!” O1 ordered the rest of Obsidian, and they all replied with acknowledgement.

“Finally, I can cut lose!” Blanche said with a snarl, obviously thrilled.

“If you got’em, use’em, don’t let those missiles go to waste!” O2 added on excitedly, with even Eson squad joining with incoherent yelling.

Warhead started up again, focusing their guns back onto the Blackstar, but with no more shields between the two, they burned and blasted darkened holes into each other, coating the others’ hull in hundreds of particle explosions. But a few seconds in it was clear they had already lost most of their armament.

The fighters dived down, avoiding the slowly vanishing cloud of plasma, and laid waste to the Warhead’s engines. Missiles, lasers, and proton torpedoes flew from their underbellies, crashing into the engines. As one squad flew back up to make another run, another would come in on their tails hitting the engines in their place, until the bombers came. Their last volley had proven too much for the armored thrusters, causing them to explode, warping and shattering the thrust nozzles like so much space dust.

The Warhead’s return fire was gradually weakening, before gradually ceasing, either on their own, or forced by the Blackstar’s own remaining weaponry.

“All fighters return to the Blackstar. Just watch your step when you come back.” The commsman spoke into the allied radio, giving a sigh of relief before ending the call.

“Wooo! How about that, our first time crippling a Star Destroyer, how about that.” Maran said, relieved.

“Best not to put this one up for an accolade.” Ben replied with a teasing tone.

Liam let his head fall back into his seat as he twisted his TIE around, towards the Blackstar.

“We’ll at least get some shore leave for that right?” Maran continued, sounding like he didn’t have a single worry.

“Constant combat suits me just fine.” Blanche flatly stated.

“You sound like you don’t have work after this, I know I’ll be working on this TIE for ages.” Liam gave a fake sigh as he said that.

It had been a trap all along, the enemy were waiting for them in a makeshift fortified location in a rathole. Several gunmen had taken position on two opposite sides of the room, behind cover. It was a deathtrap, one that was sure to have been a slaughter for the imperial forces. But lucky enough for them, Commander Abzhul was there to put the odds in their favour.

"PRIVATES ARC, SURGE, AND FLASH; PRONE, SET BLASTERS TO AUTO AND LAY COVER FIRE AT THE WEST FLANK. CORPORAL SMOKE AND NOIR, LAY DOWN SMOKES AND FOLLOW MY LEAD." Death Troopers weren't trained to think, they were trained to act. The squad moved in a blur, taking their positions and laying down blaster fire. Smoke began to fill parts of the room once the cannisters hit the ground, Alena and her squad sprinting through the cover, rushing the enemy down with their sidearms. Beskar was capable of resisting heavy blaster fire, especially their thick breast plates. What they weren't proficient in, however, were resisting high caliber slugs at close range. Which is why Alena had personally ordered the unique hand cannons for her squad during the beginning of the Mandalorian uprising.

The sound of a cannon rips through the room, the blast displacing some of the smoke around it revealing a large revolver aimed almost point blank at a mandalorian soldier, sending the poor man or woman flying against the wall. Several more shots ring out, the eastern flank of the room being cleared out of enemy threats in mere moments. With cover secured, the small group took part in a good old fashion blaster fight with the remaining Mandalorians, the fight ending shortly afterword.

"I want the dead piled and I want the wounded tended to and put on the shuttle. They were protecting something here and I want to know what." Commander Abzhul orders her men, her eyes taking stock of the damage. "Commander, i'm reading a large number of life signs in a room to the back." Corporal Noir reports, his eyes glued to a holo-tablet. "I want teams to enter a breaching position on that door, we'll enter on 5."

BOOM. The door is blown right off the hinges, the death trooper flooding in to find... "HOLD YOUR FIRE." The commander says immediately, her eyes adjusting to the dark room, only to find civilians huddled together shaking in fear. "It looks like the heat signatures were non-combatants. Everyone at ease and prepare for evac while I call into command." She quickly informs her squad, walking out of the room.

"Sir, I can report mission success. All Mandalorian combatants have been neutralized, with a party of non-combatants being guarded. Permission to evac?" She spoke into her commlink, her answer coming not long after. "Permission granted, Squad leader. Once you finish up the rest, return the base. I have another mission for you." That...That made her pause for a moment. "Sir, i'm not quite sure I understo-" "Get rid of the remaining terrorists, Commander Abzhul. They are too dangerous to be kept alive." Her hands began to shake, he couldn't be serious could he? "Sir, these are unarmed non-combatants, surely they could be sent to some sort of re-education facility?" She was frantic, she joined the corps to protect the empire from terrorists, not kill civvies, this was wrong beyond all belief. "There are no non-combatants on Mandalore, Commander Abzhul. These are the relatives of terrorists and they will be treated as such. Do I make myself clear, Commander?" The Moff's tone was precise and short, completely sure of himself. As he waited for an answer, Alena's shaking has become uncontrollable now, her teeth lightly chattering under her helmet. A number of scenarios were running through her head, anything that would let her avoid what was about to happen. "Commander?" And yet she understood that they were fruitless. "Crystal, sir." She replies, shutting off her commlink. Turning toward the open door frame, she grips her blaster in her hand, her shaking gone as she steels herself.

"For the Empire."

Alena woke up screaming, sweat covering her body, pouring off her face. It... was just a dream, she slowly begins to realize, quickly curling herself up in a ball to cope with the flood of emotions and thoughts that began swirling into her mind. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" Kina, her mechanic, stands at the doorway with a tablet in her hand. "No, I uh... I'm fine, what is it?" She quickly replies, getting up from the bed. "Well, i've been tracking splicing reports, like you said and i've been finding patterns. What used to be locations from all over the galaxy is now being reduced to a small sphere of the galaxy." "And that is?" "Hutt Space." That made sense, Alena quickly thought heading to her dresser for a change of clothes. "Fly to hutt space and start tightening your search, we're getting closer and soon this girl is going to make a mistake. And when she does, we'll be there."

He waited in irritation, knowing already what the Imperials would do. He despised moments as these, but his Master had said that if they wanted the plan to go well, the best move was Coruscant, and not to have the Empire breathing down his neck just yet. Not unless they made their deaths completely necessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is pointless. You were the one who said the Empire was weak, thanks to Sidious! Why help them at all? Why even to pretend?"

He stood in the room where he had been trained with his Master, a human of light complexion and dark hair, a man with a most inquisitive stare and no end of phyiscal or mental talent, it seemed. From his seat in the corner of the room, the Sith Lord smiled.

"It is BECAUSE they are so weak and frail, Mr. Tarak. That pale and shriveled creature, huddled in the dark like a spider... He used fear, and he manipulated well, but he allowed for no power to rival his own that he could not personally possess, and thus every Imperial person was a weak link in a very long chain. Such things have been known to snare, oh yes, but strength in numbers is not as great as strength in strength, AND numbers. Because they who were strong in the Force were broken, that which their power held together broke, and they will be desperate to latch onto anything which can gain their grip once more. My dear fellow, it is as easy as falling off of a mountain."

"That is a boast only you could make. Why NOT press the Republic instead? They have power and could easily overcome! Surely, they have the resources we desire, as well."

At this, the human smirked and let out a brief snort of amusement.

"At that, they might, but they shall not know if I walk among them or not. It was the Force that held the Empire together, and the Force which broke it. There are Jedi yet still, and for that we take pause. They must be eliminated, and so their allies we will not aid. It is as simple as that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The orders to accompany them to a ship for questioning came through. Tarak grumbled in irritation and simply sent back "Fine." before going along. He glared at the Ties giving him escort angrily.

It would be a simple matter to kill you all.

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



This was not what Goggles had expected, but in a sudden inspiration and amusement, Singe had decided to have a pixelated face. On her way to The Taste of Mon Cal, she started typing on her Slicer deck and wrote a fun little program into her holographic projections. She could already do things like project fake walls which would be highly-convincing as long as she didn't move. Why not have her system take pictures of her face and then project a blurred and pixelated image to give her this jumbled appearance? It was weird and funny, at least to her. The Tynnan, on the other hand, recoiled in shock when he looked up and saw it.

"What the heck is that?!"

"Just a bit of fun."

"You're not gonna eat like that, are you?"

"Why not?"

"Have you SEEN you lately?"

"This is what I do to unwind, Goggles. I fiddle around with things and play around with my machines."

"...you've got some weird hobbies there."

Ironically, if there were any cameras at the restaurant, this would be a little more stand-out-y, in reality, though...mainly because it was weird, not because it was risky, per se. It was, in fact, how she would be eating...all while compiling Imperial-friendly sites in Hutt Space.

The Outer Rim is always quiet, especially when Kott was sent on a patrol. No readings from any source in the last two hours, this routine patrol near Gamorr was teetering on boring. The last few months his superiors had been torturing him with monotonous single fighter patrols. This was strictly punishment for his actions four months ago where Kott refused to an order to fire upon a passenger ship leaving the Chommel Sector for a destination in the Inner Rim. Imperial Spies established a pattern that said these ships were not only carrying passengers but illegal freight. Kott was unsure about shooting down the ship and let it jump to hyperspace before firing upon it. Then ordered back to the Star Destroyer, he was berated right on the flight deck. Kott figured since he had been on the straight and narrow for a while, they wouldn’t execute him. At this point he would welcome a blaster to the face.

Kott shook his head and came back into his shitty reality when a sensor went off. A faint reading, jumping in and out of his equipment had him trying to get a fix. After a few minutes Kott figured out it was a ship with a cloaking device, “Bounty Hunter,” he murmured. His best bet was to try and track it from afar, not knowing if he was out gunned. Kott was not going to call this in either, sometimes Bounty Hunters could crack into the secure Imperial channels. Kott’s Tie Fighter was not standard issue, he had made some modifications unbeknownst to his superiors. Upgrading tracking was essential, and easy to hide unlike a weapons upgrade. Imperials were so stingy when it came to modifications and that did not bode well for a dogfight. Creeping slower than he liked, his system finally caught a good signal and turned on his own jammer, another mod no one knew about.

The ship seemed to be heading towards Gamorr, which was unusual. While Gamorr was inhabited Gamorreans, they aren’t friendly or social. Backing off some more, Kott has no idea what this ship was doing, when a crackle went off in his ear … “Echo Four Papa, Sidoni where the hell did you go? We are not reading your fighter. Quickly, Kott made his decision and turned off his communicator. “Let’s see where this takes me.”

Nyna steered the speeder through traffic, switching lanes multiple times until she was sure that no one was following them. After she confirmed that there was indeed no one chasing them, she settled into a single lane and headed toward the Corellian Sector, each member of the quartet lived. Though she knew that it could be a risk to go back to where they lived, Nyna felt that being on their home turf gave them a slight advantage over anyone who might come looking for them. Although no one seemed to have followed them here, Nyna knew that they needed to find someplace to hide, at least until they had a plan.

“My place is right around the corner. We should ditch this thing and go there.” Joren said from the back seat.

“That's insane. They're looking for us, don't you-” Joren cut Nyna off.

“Exactly. They're looking for us. They'd never think that we're stupid enough to go to our homes.” Joren argued.

Nyna had to admit, even though she didn't like the idea, it did make some modicum of sense. So she took the speeder toward Joren's apartment, then about another block further south where she parked the speeder in an alley that didn't seem to have much foot traffic, and then the four friends made their way back toward the apartment.

The trip back toward Joren's apartment was uneventful. There had been no signs of either the Kath Hounds or the Imperials, and they were able to traverse the city block without any trouble. They moved through the crowd almost as if it were just any normal day, nobody seemed to pay them any mind as they made it to Joren's apartment building. As they reached the front door, Joren reached down and scratched Nara, the stray rib-cat that hung out in the neighborhood on the top of the head and went through the door.

To Joren, the hallway leading toward his apartment seemed darker than usual. The building itself seemed more run down than it normally did. Or perhaps; he thought, that maybe he was finally seeing the place for what it was. Though this building was never what anyone would consider nice, for most of his life, it had been home. It had been the place where his father would play all kinds of games with him as a child, some of which were little more than exercises to hone his skills as a Force wielder. It was where his mother, when she wasn't out on a job, would cook them dinner. It was the last string of connective tissue that he had to his family.

But now, it was his past.

The quartet made their way down the hall and to the turbolift which would bring them to Joren's floor. Like the rest of the building, the turbolift looked to have seen better days. It creaked as they stepped on, and made a mournful whining sound as it made its journey upward, before coming to a stammering halt when it reached its destination. Joren led the way down the hall toward his apartment, passing an Arcona that Joren recognized as Bax, who lived several doors down from him. Joren gave a halfhearted nod of acknowledgment as they passed by, and continued on to the door to his apartment.

Once they went inside, the four friends gathered in the living quarters where they began planning their next move. The truth was, none of them knew what to do or where to go from this point, though they knew that between the Imperials and the Kath Hounds, they wouldn't be able to stay on Nar Shaddaa.

“We need to get off world, we can figure out where we're going once we're on the move. The longer we wait here, the harder it will be for us to get out.” Dono said

“Well, that's a problem itself. We've got no transport off this rock.” Nyna said hopelessly.

“We should go see my dad.-” Kelsa chimed in. “-he's got a couple of freighters that he can smuggle us out on. Then we can figure things out from there.”

As the others agreed to Kelsa's plan, Joren silently excused himself and made his way to his chambers. The room itself seemed dark, almost cold. To Joren, it was strange being in the room where he had slept every night from the time he was a child, knowing that this would be the last time he would be there.

There was something there that he needed to get before he left this cesspool forever. He made his way over to his closet and began rooting through his things. He pushed aside clothes and souvenirs that he had collected over the years, until finally he found it. It was an unassuming durasteel box, however, to him, it may as well been a treasure chest.

He fumbled with the lock until it finally opened. Inside the box there were several things that he'd held dear. There were several notes that his father had written after he had become sick. Some were words of wisdom, lessons of the Force that he wanted to pass on to his son, reminders of the Jedi way. There was one that his father had written just days before he passed away, telling him just how proud his father had been of him, and how it had been his privilege to call him son.

There were also a few other keepsakes, some baubles that his mother had brought back to him after her various “business trips.” There was also his mother's prized necklace. It was a beautiful piece of art, said to be made from songsteel, which gave gave it a certain luminescence. His mother always wore it, or did so whenever she wasn't on a job. He took the necklace out of the box and held it between his fingers for a moment.

Then his eyes fell on his prized possession.

His father's lightsaber. When he held the weapon in his hand, he felt a true connection to his father. He remembered the first time he saw the brilliant blue blade, and how transfixed he was on the glowing blade and the droning humming sound that it made. After his father had passed away, he would take the lightsaber out and just hold it in has hand, occasionally activating it, allowing the blue-white glow and the hum of the weapon to make him feel closer to him.

After a few moments, Joren snapped out of his reverie and closes the lid of the box and tucked it under his arm. He didn't know why he'd been so transfixed on the weapon, or really why he'd been drawn to be box and its contents, particularly the lightsaber. It had been almost as if something had called out to him and led him to it.

He was no Jedi. He had no use for the weapon. Then he realized, it wasn't about the lightsaber at all. It was about maintaining the one thread that still connected him to his parents. Everything in that box was all that remained of his parents, and even though he was leaving his home, he wasn't ready to let go of them just yet.

He made his way back to the living chamber and rejoined his friends. They looked tired and worried, and they appeared to be ready to get as far away from Nar Shaddaa as they could, and put this all behind them.

“Alright, let's get out of here.” Joren said as the others got up and they headed for the door, hoping for an uneventful return to the hidden speeder.

In Orbit Above Widek

Hurried footfalls echoed off of the durasteel floors of the Lazarus' bridge as Admiral Kava stormed to the command center. The Lazerous had been on its way to Coruscant to offer assistance to the so-called Grand Imperium to offer assistance to its leader, Koren Ozzell when it had suddenly been ripped from hyperspace, where it remained now. It was an unexpected, and as Kava saw it, an unacceptable delay. And she wanted to know who was responsible.

“Why have we stopped, Captain Bryce?” She demanded as she approached the captain, who was busy looking at a holodisplay.

“We were pulled out of hypersapce by a gravity well, Ma'am.” The captain started to explain.

“An Indterdictor?” She asked, stunned by the captain's explanation.

“Yes, Admiral. It appears that the Interdictor Vandor has taken up residence in this sector and is detaining anything coming through the Widek Bypass. I was just about to contact them..” Bryce told her.

“Vex.” Kava glowered, her crimson eyes narrowing as she turned to Bryce.

Kava knew the captain of the Vandor, Camus Vex. He was a weasel and a coward, only achieving his rank of captain because of who he is, or more precisely, who his father was. An Imperial noble who was good friends with Wilhuff Tarkin, who had personally assured Vex's rise through the ranks. If it hadn't been for the fact that Tarkin had personally vouched for him, Vex would have found himself on the scrap heap a long time ago.

Apparently there was something to be said for connections in the old Empire.

Now he was an aspiring warlord, in reality, little more than a common pirate on a fancy ship, hiding in open space and plundering any ships that came within range. As little regard that she had for Vex, Kava always had use for another Interdictor. It's captain could always be replaced in time.

“Captain Bryce, hail the Vandor, I want to speak to Vex immediately.” She barked.

“Yes, admiral.” Bryce responded dutifully as he hailed the Interdictor.

Moments later, the the holoscreen came to life. On the screen was a tall, lanky man in an Imperial Officer's uniform. He had slightly graying hair that could be seen around the edge of his captain's hat, and a long, pointed nose and sharp features which gave him an avian like appearance. He stared contemptuously at Captain Bryce with arrogance oozing from his posture.

“What is the meaning of this, Vandor?” Pryde demanded the moment the connection to the Vandor had been made.

“I am merely protecting my territory from invaders. Which begs the question, what are you doing here, Captain. Vex said with a cold disdain.

Before Bryce could answer, Admiral Kava stepped beside him, coming fully into view of the holoscreen. She met Vex's contemptible gaze with one of her own.

“Hello Vex.-” She began, her tone was cold, but not unfriendly. “-We are on our way to Coruscant with an offer for the Imperium. You are more than welcome to join us. It is beyond the time for the Empire to once again unite as one against the Rebels.”

“Tempting offer Admiral Kava. But I must decline. I am doing quite well for myself here, and would hate to ruin a good thing.-” He said with a mock sincerity. “I'm sure you understand.” He finished with a condescending smile.

“Very well. If that is your decision...” She trailed off for a moment. “I wish you the best.”

The holodisplay went dark and she turned to Captain Bryce.

“We can't allow for a rogue Imperial agent like Vex to roam the galaxy. Contact the Dominus, I want all turbolaser batteries to fire on the Vondor on my command.” Kava told him.

“But ma'am, the Dominus is not here-” Bryce was cut off as the Dominus as well as the rest of the fleet dropped out of hyperspace beside them.

Kava simply looked into her captain's eyes and smiled.

“Fire at will, Captain.”

The Imperial corvette silently orbited the crystalline world, once more aligned with the Confederacy albeit a reborn one. The Knight Commander stared at the snow covered planet from his standing position aboard the bridge of the vessel. As Dredar's eyes gazed upon its jagged landscapes he felt a tinge of anxiety flow through him. As he steeled his nerves he felt the Force flow through him, as he reminded himself of the Imperium's natural advantage in the negotiations to come. This new Confederacy was in its infantile stages, while the Imperium could offer practically boundless supplies to aid them should they wisely accept an offer of alliance. He'd depart for the world shortly with a small assortment of dark troopers at his back. Hostilities would not occur here, he had nothing to fear from these upstarts. This planet was where the great Jedi master Ki-Adi Mundi had been slain, gunned down by his own clones on that unforgettable day of their betrayal. His own feelings on it had cooled down since then, though he'd never remove the image of Master Mitrin being similarly cut down from his memory. The helplessness the young Dredar had felt, the coldness which filled his soul as he rabidly ripped apart the clones.

"Knight Commander, the shuttle is ready. What do you command of the Nightfury while the negotiations occur, sir?" Dredar was pulled from his memories by an Imperial officer, Captain Dystra. The stodgy commander of the vessel before its reins had been handed over to Dredar for the mission. The officer's hair had lessened in its amount and grayed in its tone, he'd been in service of the Empire for quite some time.

"I shall depart momentarily, captain. Simply keep the Nightfury in orbit of the world, I will contact you if we need your assistance. I do not expect any rash decisions from the Confederacy, they know better than to try anything risky." He replied, as he glanced at the veteran officer then started past the man.

"Very well, sir." Dystra mumbled to the exiting Force user, then glanced at some of the subordinate bridge crew before he crossed his arms and glanced out the front view of his vessel. He was elated to be in control of the Nightfury again.

A short time later Dredar arrived in the hangar, where the Imperial shuttle awaited. A trio of TIE fighters would escort them to the surface, a small but effective show of force. The scream of TIEs was like music to his ears. As the Knight Commander strolled towards the transport he noticed a quintet of Dark Troopers gathered just outside of the ship. The Knight Commander donned his helmet, with each step his cape flowed behind him. The fearsome sigil of the Grand Imperium printed on its center. As he drew closer to the open back hatch back of the Imperial Lambda the exoskeletoned troopers saluted him firmly. He wordlessly stepped aboard the transport, then the five heavily armed soldiers followed him inside as he sat down. As the shuttle closed its hatch and rose off the hangar floor Dredar felt a smirk seep onto his lips as he thought of this resurrected Confederacy. They pulled themselves from the ashes like the Imperium had, now he hoped they two reborn factions would be able to align.

---

The three TIE fighters roared through the clouded skies as they followed in formation behind the descending shuttle. Headed towards the designated location of their meeting. As Dredar sat quietly in the back, flanked by the hulking dark troopers he heard the pilot speak through the ship's intercom. They would be landing very shortly, though the Knight Commander was unsure of who he'd be speaking with exactly. Lord Ozzel had instructed him to seek out the former Imperials at the front of this new Confederacy, made turncoats by that catastrophic day which splintered the original great Galactic Empire. Either way he had his approach planned, the Imperium holding the strong hand in these negotiations. His eyes drifted towards the dark troopers spread around him, uncomfortably cramped inside the transport. They were a wise suggestion by Ozzel, he had to admit if he was facing them down he'd feel more imposed by them than regular stormtroopers.

"Approaching the landing zone." The pilot stated through the intercom as the Lambda shook slightly, its landing gear deploying as its descent towards the surface began. Dredar rose to his feet as he turned towards the back hatch, ready to make his entrance on these negations. The TIE fighters landed first, the trio setting down a short distance away as the pilots remained seated inside.



Corrin shivered as the cold of the air worked its way into his bones. It was always cold no matter where you were on the planet and temperature control didn’t seem to have any effect. Rubbing his hands together he continued reading the datapad on the desk before him. The pad had a mixture of reports from the war front in the core worlds and a bit of information on the rest of the new Confederacy. A collection of new systems have pledged to the cause since the last he had checked. It also appears the captured Kuat Drive Yards have been working on overtime to provide ships for the new Alliance.

After reading that last report Corrin shook his head and slid the datapad away. While it was nice that their minuscule navy would be getting reinforcements, it also had the stink of politics. Just like in the Empire those with the navy would have the power, and in this case, have a higher chance of being nominated as chairman. The most powerful of the planets have been bickering amongst themselves for the privilege of leading the Confederacy. The leaders of Mygeeto had also wanted to join the competition before Corrin had convinced them keeping their strength hidden would come to aid them later.

With a beep on his communicator pulling him from his quiet complaining he rose from his chair and made his way to the entrance of the office. Corrin pulled a large jacket from a hook near the door and stepped into the hallway while pulling the coat over his shoulders. He had to watch his step as he walked through the tight passageway so as to not trip over any of his crew. He and his fleet had been given a collection of skyscrapers in order to let them off the Star Destroyers in orbit over the planet. His soldiers were scattered throughout the city normally with only a skeleton crew in the ships. While it did leave him open to an attack from outside forces it stopped his men from either going insane or mutinying him out of boredom. Nearly tripping over a stormtrooper on the ground painting his helmet he caught himself on the window that covered the outside wall and scowled at the man on the ground.

“Watch where you’re goin….” As soon as the trooper realized he had been scolding his commanding officer he jumped up to attention and waited to be yelled at. Corrin took a deep breath before he gave in to his urge to yell at the trooper and instead focused on reducing his scowl.

“It’s fine, but I have a job for you. By the time I reach the exit at the bottom of the tower I want a squad of troopers waiting for me, ready for combat.” Turning away from the man Corrin could hear him sprint down the hallway back to his sergeant with his new orders. Halfway through the long hallway, he reached the lift doors and pressed the button to go down. Tapping his foot he could now hear shouting and banging on metal as the sergeant was getting his men ready as fast as possible. The doors opened in front of him and Corrin stepped into the silent tube before it started its descent. Looking out the window he could see the skyline of the crystalline planet and took in the sights. While most of the city was basically the same he could see some new structures off in the distance. Since the Emperor’s death the banking clan had been remaking their droid factories, and they were now nearing full production levels. Looking towards the other side of the city he noticed the motion of fighters in the sky followed by a transport. The ships made their way to the landing platform near the bottom of the tower.

Reaching the bottom of the tower he stepped out of the lift and made his way towards the entrance. The lobby of the tower was filled with hundreds of imperial enlisted relaxing and talking amongst themselves. Before he could make it to the door he saw a squad of troopers exit the faster service lift to his right and jog towards him. Without saying a word they fell into step behind their CO and followed him outside. Once they got outside Corrin could feel the terrible cold drop to below freezing as he walked towards the platform. Picking up his pace so he could get inside as soon as possible he jogged towards the base of the platform then stopped. His men stayed in formation as he waited for the doors of the Lambda to open.

The shuttle doors came open with a hiss, as the warm air from the interior of the transport met the chilled air of Mygeeto. The Knight Commander was the first one to appear from the inside of the Lambda, clad in his distinct armor and helmet, lightsaber hanging from his belt. He was silently followed by the five exoskeletoned dark troopers, each with careful eyes for any surprises set by these new separatists. As Dredar stepped forward his eyes scanned at the greeting party before him, as they hung over the squad of stormtroopers parked behind a man clad in Imperial officer garb. He moved his hands upward and removed his helmet to meet the man face to face.

“I am Knight Commander Dredar Ragant of the Grand Imperium. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance in these troubling times.” The Force user stated with a nod as he clipped his helmet to his belt. His composed breathes were evident in the freezing cold air.

This officer was younger than he had expected, though it was not the most shocking turn of events. The more veteran officers were often the least likely to go rogue. As he glanced over the stormtroopers behind the man he caught notice of their armor, many having discarded the simple uniform designs in favor of more distinct, individualized armor. It reminded him of some of the clones he’d seen during the Clone Wars, where they tried to set themselves out from the masses of soldiers to showcase some personality. He was always intrigued by how these splintered Imperial remnants acted, some changed more radically like this one, while others, like the Imperium tried to maintain the core elements of the great Galactic Empire.

Corrin felt the urge to salute who in the old empire would have been lightyears above him in rank while he looked the man in the eyes. With a nod of his own he returned the greeting to the red armoured man.

“The pleasure is all mine, even out here in the outer rim we hear about the heroic Imperial Knights who protect the Imperium. My name is Admiral Corrin Marks, and I am in charge of the task force stationed at Mygeeto.” Corrin took a second to glance over the emissary's shoulder to peek at his guards. They appeared to be a new model of droid meant to imitate a stormtrooper, and they looked a good bit more frightening than the original. “If you wouldn’t mind I would love for us to head somewhere indoors, even after five years of living on this planet I still can not handle the cold. I have an office just a short walk away if you don’t mind the hassle.”

While he made small talk Corrin was going through the reasons for why the Imperium would send someone out here. Ever since the ship had jumped into the system he had been racking his brain for answers. The only reason he could think of was that Imperial intelligence had discovered the new Confederacy. Whether they were here to stop it or help it he had no clue.

“Of course, Admiral. Can’t say I’m a fan of the cold myself,” Dredar said with a short smile as he walked alongside Corrin. The dark troopers followed behind him silently as they headed inside. “You flatter me too much but it is pleasant to hear word of my Knights’ deeds has made it out here. The Grand Imperium has also heard word of a reborn confederacy, it is what led this meeting to occur.”

“The Grand Imperium seeks an alliance. We have much to offer you in the way of a partnership. The rebels and their damned ‘New Republic’ pose a threat to us both, they won’t stop until they’ve wiped out anyone who opposes them. The only way for us both to stand against them is together.” He added, putting on his most charismatic face to try to sway the remnant Admiral. “I also believe an alliance would serve as a powerful sign to the other scattered Imperial remnants. That all who once swore under the banner of the Emperor need to stand side by side in defiance of the emboldened rebels.”

Corrin felt a small weight lift off his back as he heard the Knight speak of an alliance. “That is a gracious offer I can’t say I was expecting. I am surprised the Lord of the Imperium has noticed such a small faction such as us. We have much to discuss.” As the admiral reached the lift he stepped inside and turned towards his troopers. “Wait here and stand guard. Let everyone know the top floor is off-limits.”

Dredar made the same motion to the dark troopers, leaving his quintet of imposing guards behind. Then followed the man into the elevator to continue their conversation. The massive troopers stood in silence, waiting until the return of the Knight Commander.

As Corrin stood in the lift he let the silence hang in the air for a moment before resuming their conversation. “I am going to be honest with you, as profitable as it would be to become allies, that is something I can not accomplish. With the confederacy so young we have had to gather members from a broad spectrum of ideologies. Not an insignificant portion of them despise the empire, but distrust the republic as well. I do believe we can work some form of deal out though.”

“ I do understand your hesitation, Admiral. But the rebels will come for any threat they see that stands against them. Lord Ozzel is no fool, he will not wage wars he does not believe could be won.” Dredar stated calmly, after listening to the man’s words fully. His dislike of egregious ‘New Republic’ clear as he spoke.

“What is it exactly that you propose as a deal?” He curiously asked, as the lift continued its ascension upwards towards Corrin’s office.

“I believe you are correct in your assessment of the New Republic, much like the past iterations of the republic they will not tolerate independent systems. They are so quick to speak of freedom and a righteous cause when they fight to restore a flawed system that caters to only the wealthiest of planets. While the empire had its issues, they only became true problems after the rebellion began to panic the upper echelon of the government.”

As they reached the top floor the doors opened to a large office with a large glass dome that let one see the dark clouds above. Stepping into the room Corrin gestured to a large circular couch on the left side of the room and made his way there. “We should be more comfortable over here than at my desk.”

After sitting down Corrin continued speaking, “What I propose is a pact of sorts, one that will hopefully prevent either of us being swallowed by the ravenous republic. In the case that either of us is in danger of being destroyed by the Rebels, the other must aid by attacking a vital part of their offensive. While that can mean a frontal assault that can also relate to cutting off supply lines. Anything that will force the republic to turn back from their attack. How does that sound?”

“We are both in danger of being destroyed, Admiral. The rebel scum will take note of your new Confederacy movement, the fact that an Imperial admiral is at the helm will only add to the attention,” The Knight Commander stated first, after having taken in Corrin’s suggestion. It was an interesting proposition. “So a defensive pact?”

“That does sound agreeable. The rebels are now the largest faction. The only way to hurt them is to strike where it will hurt them the most.” He added as he leaned forward in his seated position on the couch.

“It's no secret they will be coming for Coruscant. It is the crown jewel of the galaxy. To take that from the Imperium would be the ultimate statement of their power. Could we count on you in that scenario? If we do agree to this pact?” Dredar inquired, both men knowing how valuable Coruscant truly was. It had been the Republic’s capital for thousands of years for a reason.

Corrin nodded along as Dredar spoke of the importance of Coruscant, “I will have to discuss it with the future chairman of the Confederacy, but if my research is right he isn’t someone to get cold feet doing what must be done. Before you ask I can not tell you who it is going to be, I have to hold on to at least a few state secrets.” The admiral cracked a smile at Dredar and leaned back in his seat. “If we are in agreement of this new pact, I believe our business is over. If you wish to stay the night you are welcome in our humble abode, but if you must leave I wish you good luck. Let's hope neither of us gets shot by a rebel before we next meet.”

“Excellent. I am delighted we could come to an agreement, Admiral.” Dredar replied as he extended a hand to shake Corrin’s. A conclusion to a fruitful meeting between the two galactic powers. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I must depart for Coruscant. I must inform Lord Imperium of our newfound pact.”

“I believe it will be us that will shoot any rebels before they are any wiser.” He added with a smirk as he rose to his feet. While they had not agreed to a full partnership he was glad they had at least established a defensive pact. It was a sound move for both parties in the face of emboldened rebels.

The Hunt lowered itself on the steel bridge of the landing platform, it's boarding ramp soon dropping to unload its passengers. Umbral and her two companions, Fata and Kina, quietly exited their ship and took a deep breath of the foul industrious air of Nar Shaddaa. "Are you sure she'd be in this dump, I mean, that camera footage could have been anyone, Umbral." Kina seemed the most disgusted by the city, obviously not used to an urban planet, especially one so... ill taken care of. Alena, however, had a nice filtering unit in her helmet, which helped to keep out the smell.

"Yes." She replied after a short delay. "I am sure. An urban sprawl is a perfect location for a splicer, especially one as lawless as this moon." Alena uses the holopad on her arm to announce her presence to the bounty guild and begins searching through several jobs on the moon. "Now, while I blend in with the other hunters, I need you two to keep your eyes out. Look for the Tynnan that was with the girl and he'll make finding her that much easier. Find a good location to camp out and splice into the cameras and law enforcement radio. If you encounter any resistance with locals, come back to me instantly, you can find me through your holopad. See you in a bit, girls." The trio separated, Fate quickly heading back into the ship to watch it, while the Alena and Kina went to work.

---------------------------

It wasn't difficult to find a building with holo-net, one of the only good things about these city planets was that there was a number of cafes that offered free access to the net while there. Eating a bagel, Kina quietly began work on her laptop, trying to get into the servers of whatever acted as law enforcement in this area. The Umbarain had several pieces of hardware that would assist with, a lot of it acting as scramblers, tunneling equipment, etc. It helped when you had the payroll of a bounty hunter in your pocket, one of the better perks of their partnership.

Aaaaand, done. It was easy enough, she just managed to make disguise herself as a law enforcement device, so that the servers would let her in. One of the more simple methods of getting some place you weren't supposed to be, but simple methods work just as well as the more complicated ones. With access secured, she sends a message to her partner that her side of the job is finished.

----------------------------

"Please, I can give you credits! Double what they're paying you!" The Gran yelled out, his voice filled with desperation. The Gran, locally known as "Two Eyed Radja" was currently being pressed against a wall by Alena, handcuffs being clipped onto his large hands. "No." She replies firmly, pulling the alien off the wall and guiding him toward the speeder she rented. Just as she's about to start riding, she gets a message on her gauntlet. One informing her that all preparations had been set. "Perfect timing." She mumbles to herself, before riding out to the guild building to return the bail jumper.

Kaylee Starsmore and TyrellOmi-Ren/Aboard the Nighthawk
@sep

Thriik paused as she responded. “So, Jedi Starsmore. Just who exactly is this Master Skywalker? I’ve heard reports about him, but as of now the only Skywalker I know off is one Anakin Skywalker who died with the Jedi Order. I suspect that your Master is merely using his name to gain notoriety-”

“Thriik, that's enough.” Tyrell came walking through the doors to the machine room into the spacious cargo bay. He bowed his head out of respect to the woman present to Thriiks grilling. “Jedi Knight Tyrell Omi-Ren, at your service.” Tyrell then turned to Thriik. “She is our guest on our mission to Nal Hutta, she will help us to find Grakkus’ hidden vault of Jedi artifacts. That’s something you can get behind, right Thriik?”

He grumbled as he stormed out. Tyrell smiled at the Jedi. “Sorry about that, he’s a bit protective over everything we’ve done. Nice to meet you…?” He trailed off in order to allow the Jedi to introduce herself.

“Kaylee Starsmore.” She replied, somewhat taken aback by the Gotal’s sudden interrogation. She wasn’t accustomed to people questioning Master Skywalker’s legitimacy, and she had the urge to defend her master’s honor, as well as her own as the Gotal’s accusation had challenged her legitimacy as well as that of the entire New Jedi Order.

“I’m sorry, Tyrell, did you say that we’re looking for the hidden vault of Grakkus the Hutt?-” Kaylee asked in surprise. She had heard of the Hutt. Master Skywalker had mentioned his own run in with the gangster, but she was under the impression that the artifacts that the Hutt had collected were lost. The thought of taking possession of such a treasure and what it could mean for the Order to reclaim these artifacts excited her. “-Where do we begin?”

Tyrell sensed that she was rattled, offering her a reassuring smile. “Yes we are Kaylee, we’ve had reports from Megalox that Grakkus is claiming that his escape is coming and once he does he will reclaim his place and position as a high ranking member of the hutt cartel thanks to the ‘possessions he has left behind’. Knowing what Grakkus is famed for myself and my master believe that this can only mean more Jedi Artifacts, ones that Darth Vader didn’t manage to confiscate from Grakkus’ palace.” He indicated that she should walk with him through the ship. Walking through the cargo bay she would feel a pull towards one of the escape pods, while it looked like the other pod it was in fact retrofitted into a safe. Full of several Jedi artifacts and as such radiating in the Force.

As they walked through the cargo bay and through the doors to the machine shop she would see various training remotes, wooden practice sabers and trinkets that gave the ship a lived in feel. “Once we’re in the palace we’re going to go to Grakkus chambers and find something, anything, that belonged to him. I have a… unique skill within the Force. It allows me to get images, feelings and impressions from touching an object. We’re hoping that will lead us to the vault.”

The very mention of Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith who had served as the Emperor’s enforcer was enough to send a chill down Kaylee’s spine. She had heard stories of the legendary Sith who had hunted down and killed most of the Jedi who had survived the initial Jedi Purge at the end of the Clone Wars. When she had been a child, and she started to become aware of her attunement to the Force, the fear of being found by the Empire, and specifically Lord Vader himself had kept her up at night. However, she pushed those feelings deep down inside as Tyrell led her through the ship, afterall, Vader and the Emperor were dead, and she no longer had anything to fear from them.

Kaylee listened to Tyrell as he led her through the ship’s cargo hold. She was amazed by how much this particular area of the ship radiated with the Force. Then something that Tyrell said got her attention.

“Like Psychometry?-” Kaylee said, unable to mask her surprise. She was only vaguely familiar with that particular Force gift. She had found some mention of it in one of the tomes that Master Skywalker had collected, however, the information in that particular volume was somewhat limited, and she had never met anyone who professed to possess that particular gift. “-Do you really think that it will lead us to Grakkus’ lost collection?”

Tyrell nodded. “That is what I’ve been told it is called. So yes, exactly like that.” He frowned as they went through the door of the machine shop into the common room. Doors were laid all around it into the various different cabins. “If it doesn’t work we’ll have to go take more old fashioned measures. Though I’m hoping this will work as we’ve tried to get permission to get into Megalox to see Grakkus but we’ve not made much headway, though perhaps with your help we could-” He stroked his chin, not that there was anything more there than just a little bit of stubble. He may have acted older and wiser than he really was at times, but he was still only in his early twenties.

He pointed out a cabin and hit the buttons beside it, opening up to a musty cabin that obviously hadn’t been in use. “This’ll be yours. Feel free to set a lock, and set up shop.” He pointed at one of the doors closer to the cockpit. “That one’s mine, beside it is Relani and Thriik is across from you. The one farthest away from everyone else.”

“Do you think he’ll be alright with that? He doesn’t seem to like me very much.-” Kaylee said. “-but thank you, this will be perfect.” She continued as she opened the door to her cabin to store her bag. Once she had stowed her bag, she turned to Tyrell, who she just realized looked to be about her age, maybe only a couple of years older. She had to admit that she was impressed by the young Jedi Knight, he had been all over the galaxy hunting for Jedi artifacts, seeing and doing things that she could only dream of, while she had been spending her days stranded on Yavin IV, longing to do half of the things that this man had seemingly been doing all along.

“But why would I be able to help get us access to Grakkus in Megalox?” She asked, going back to his earlier statement.

Tyrell shrugged. “He’ll get used to you, besides it's not like we’re putting you right next door. Just don’t do anything to make him think you’re trying to steal any form of artifact and you’ll get along fine. Helps if you get him some form of artifact, or get him talking about the ‘Golden Age of Jedi.” He chuckled slightly to himself. “Just make sure you have a couple of hours.” He stretched as he guided them towards the cockpit.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kaylee said in reference to the less than friendly Gotal. She did hope that Tyrell was right, and that he would come around. Though she found the prospect of sitting down with him and discussing Jedi history with him to be a downright terrifying idea, perhaps the Gotal could provide her with insight that she hadn’t had before, and it might be something worth considering.

“Megalox is one of those interesting prisons that changes with the times, it really belongs to whoever holds Galactic Power. There’s probably still some Separatist criminals in there, and some from before the Clone Wars. Very few people travel down to the surface of Megalox, as you can only go through a highly secure turbolift as the planet’s gravity would crush any ship or anyone trying to enter. You being a Jedi would score us points with the guards who could give us access to Grakkus, and then also bring us back to the surface once we were done.”

At first she was slightly puzzled by Tyrell’s words. Was he not a Jedi? Wouldn’t his showing up at Megalox with his credentials be enough to garner enough favor to get him in to see the Hutt? Just as she was about to say as much, the realization that while he may in fact be a Jedi in the stricter sense of the word, he was not one of Master Skywalker’s Jedi. He was not a member of the New Republic’s Jedi Order, and then it made sense to her.

“I understand.-” She said. “Perhaps we should get on our way then.” She finished, barely able to contain her excitement for the journey ahead.

ISD-Blackstar (Hangar)

“Welcome back, Obsidian, proceed to the starboard hangar and dock there.” A familiar voice spoke over the radio, inviting the squad back inside.

“One more thing, recommend you keep those helmets on when you disembark. Blackstar out.”

Now that they were closer, Liam could see the Blackstar for himself without the help of sensors. Scores of scorch marks painted the hull. He briefly humored the thought that the ship was starting to look like its name.

The starfighters swarmed around the ship for a few moments as they redirected themselves according to fighter control, and as Liam came into dock, he noted that the hangar wasn’t as clean as it used to be. The forcefield keeping the atmosphere was still on, but there was this weird coating of teal and brown powder everywhere.

Equipment and storage boxes were strewn about the hangar, as if a storm and blown through the ship interior. Clean up crews and mechanics were picking up after the mess, rearranging tools, or attending to damaged equipment. Most of the mechanics seemed bothered, their faces furrowed, obviously bothered, and it wasn’t due to the mess.

Maran gave a whistle as he climbed out onto the catwalk. “Seems the Captain was busy.”

“It would have been fine if she just left the fighting to us.” Blanche agreed as he jumped down, meeting Maran along the way towards the entrance way.

“Don’t be so sure of that, whatever she did drew that ship away, that fighter was something else.” Ben held his head in thought.

“I’ll say, that guy was slipperier than a mynock.” Jarael disembarked next and rested herself on a nearby handrail.

“I lost it after it jumped off Liam, did one of you shoot it down?”

The rest of Obsidian, and even passing by pilots from other squads signaled ‘no’ in their own ways.

“Hyperdrive?” Maran said while shrugging his shoulders.

“Could be, I’ll send a request for the sensor logs later.” Ben nodded.

With his body coming down from the dog fighting and recent emotions, Liam gave a sigh before moving to remove his helmet. He disconnected the support tubes and lifted his helmet slightly, before plugging himself back in swiftly. Blanche gave a quick chortle before captain Ben shot him a look.

“Meet you guys at the mess, I’ll change first.”

“That bad huh?” Maran asked, staring right back into Liam’s dark red lens, and Liam nodded.

ISD-Blackstar (Mess hall)

Liam, now dressed in his usual uniform, had planted himself onto a seat near the beverage machines, and the rest of the squad had joined him only moments later. The mess hall wasn’t empty, it was full of hundreds of other off duty officers, complaining about the recent mission from their own points of views. In the meanwhile, Obsidian had started to criticize each other’s meals, from lack of taste, presentation, or nutrients, before the topic shifted back to the previous battle.

“So, what was that thing, it was practically dancing around us, not even our ints move like that.” Maran asked, sending glances around the table.

“No kidding, I was almost vaped.” Liam grumbled as he hunched over his meal, then looked up with a confident smirk.

“I’ve got some ideas for my TIE, maybe next time I can even the score.”

“You’ve got ideas? You mean you wanna bother your favorite mechanic, right?” Jarael taunted him from across the table.

“I'm more of an ideas guy, I'll let someone else do the dirty work.”

Ben Jenson, the squad captain had been vaguely listening at the other end of the table, lost in thought with his bulky arms crossed over one another, before he huffed and finally spoke.

“You know, now that I think about it, I have seen something like that.” He said, nodding.

“The fighter?” Liam exclaimed.

“No, the fighting. Reminds me of the one time we fought with Vader, he went out in his own fighter, never got to hear what it was called. But he was full of tricks, just like this guy.”

Maran furrowed his brows, then pointed his fork accusingly towards Ben. “Wait a minute, old man, we never fought with Vader!”

“We did, well, the old squad with me and O2. Before your time.” Ben gave him a smile, but his gaze seemed to drift away.

“Yeah... those Jedi flew around like that too in those old holovids. It always looked scripted because of how they were able to dodge so well.” Liam said while stroking his chin.

“We’ll be prepared for next time; this kill will be mine.” Blanche rasped from beside Ben.

“Don’t count on it, I plan to pay him back for my ship.” Liam shot a challenging smirk towards Blanche, then someone started tugging at his ear, an arm from across the table, drawing a quick cry of surprise from him.

“Did you forget the part where the only person in Obsidian hit, was you?” Jarael said with fake tenderness, and a sinister smile that showed off her canines.

Maran chuckled at Liam’s suffering, before Jarael pulled at him too.

“Ow, why me!” Maran complained as he tried to fight her hands with his.

“Because I don’t like your smug look!” Jarael said exaggeratedly before letting them both go, just in time for Ben to start speaking again.

“Liam, I know you have an... appreciation for the TIE ln, but switch to an int.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I’m a great pilot, and I can keep up with the rest of you just fine. My formation flying has never been off until now.” Liam said, starting off calmly, and gradually becoming insistent.

“You wouldn’t be here if I thought badly of you, but switch to an interceptor as of now, that’s an order.” Ben insisted, his gaze never leaving Liam’s eyes, and the latter had no choice but to nod.

“Heeyyy, if Liam’s going to start messing around with an int, maybe I could customize mine too. A nice big picture of a dancer on the side would be nice.” Maran interjected before Jarael elbowed him. Ben huffed and then shook his head as he spoke firmly.

“That’s against regulation, and a definite no.” Then he donned a smirk.

“Unless you want to draw all the fire from now on.”

“Um, understood, captain.” Maran fell back into his seat, like he had suddenly been deflated.

ISD Waylander- Above Nar Shaddaa

Captain Dram Cruvee sat behind his desk as he watched the security holo from inside of the base of the Kath Hounds. When he had first brought his Imperial forces to Nar Shaddaa, he was met with fierce resistance. The Hutts had fought hard to keep the remnant of the Empire off of the Smuggler's Moon, employing street gangs and other criminals as foot soldiers to fight their battle. And though Cruvee was happy to engage the criminals, he soon realized that it was a wasteful conflict. Soon after that realization, hoping to avoid any unnecessary bloodshed, he approached the Hutts with an offer of an alliance, which the Hutts eventually agreed to. Once he had the cooperation of the Hutts, he had been able to bring some of the street gangs to heel, and the Kath Hounds had proven to be a valuable asset in enforcing his rule over the moon.

Until today, when two men, a Mandalorian and a street urchin, broke into their compound and released a prisoner that was being held there, costing the lives of not only several of the Kath Hounds, but of a number of stormtroopers as well. And to Cruvee, that was an unacceptable loss, and he was determined to understand what had gone so terribly that two men were able to do so much damage.

His eyes remained glued to the holo as he watched the pair engage with Kenso. The three men spoke to one another, and then Kenso, clearly not pleased with what was said, drew his blaster and pointed it at the prisoner's head. What happened next left the seasoned Imperial speechless, as one of the intruders seemingly knocked Kenso's blaster hand away, with nothing more than his mind.

“Interesting.” Cruvee said to himself as he watched the pair free the girl and make their escape from the compound, however, not before the supposed street urchin used his gifts again, this time on a stormtrooper.

Cruvee pondered what he had just seen as he deactivates the security holo. He had been a young officer in the early days of the Galactic Empire, shortly after the Republic had been reorganized following the end of the Clone Wars. He had heard tales of the Jedi, and the amazing things that they were said to have been capable of. He had even seen it first hand when he witnessed Lord Vader choke the life from one of his superior officers for some perceived failure during the Rebellion. If this street urchin was indeed someone with command over the Force, perhaps if he could be recruited into his ranks, he would give Cruvee the one weapon that would ensure his ascension in the ranks of the Imperial Remnant.

A new Vader. One that would serve him. One that would all but guarantee that not even the Grand Imperium would question his authority.

“Ensign.” Cruvee called to his underling.

“Yes Sir?” The ensign, a young man of slightly darker complexion replied.
“I want you to contact Sargent Dozner on the Moon's surface. I want these men in custody and brought to me by nightfall. Also get word to our underworld friends that I do not want these men harmed.” Cruvee demanded.

“Yes Sir.” The ensign said as he rushed off to complete his superior's bidding.



The speeder raced through the skylanes above Nar Shaddaa towards Kelsa's home, where the quartet of friends had hoped her father would be able to use his underworld connections to get them off of the Smuggler's Moon. However, as they approached the palatial estate that she had called home, their hopes dimmed as they saw a billowing column of thick, black smoke coming from the general vicinity of her home. They rode in silence as they approached, hoping that it was not her home, but a nearby structure that had burned to the ground. However, the closer they got, the more they realized that it was no such coincidence, and something terrible had happened.

Their fears were confirmed when they pulled the speeder up to the smoldering ruins of the home. Nyna had barely brought the speeder to a stop when Kelsa jumped out of the back seat and raced toward what remained of her home. Joren took off after her, not wanting her to go in alone, just in case whoever had done this was still there. Dono and Nyna followed behind Joren, who called after Kelsa to wait for them.

Kelsa entered the house first, going directly into what remained of the greeting chamber, where their worst fears were realized. Laying in the rubble were the charred remains of Dresa, the Sila family servant who had practically raised Kelsa from the time that she was a small child, taking over care for the girl after her mother had passed away. Kelsa stood there in the center of the room staring down at the remains of the woman before Joren rushed over to her, grabbing her and forcing her to look away.

“Don't look.-” He said, shushing her as she began to cry. “-Don't look.” His voice was soothing, however, Kelsa was inconsolable.

“Joren, we've got to get out of here.” Nyna said, her voice cracking at the sight of the servant.

However, suddenly Kelsa broke away from Joren's grip and ran up the broken stairs to what remained of the second floor.

“Dad! Dad!” She cried out as she ran from room to room, avoiding debris as she went. She made her way down to the end of the hall to her father's office, and she went in. Then she let out a blood curdling scream.

When Joren and the others reached her, they were horrified to find Kelsa's father laying on the floor of the office behind his desk, his body still smoking where the blaster bolts had hit him. Kelsa was kneeling by her father's body, cradling his head in her arms, begging him to wake up. Joren's heart broke at the sight. He had also lost both of his parents, and in a way, he knew how she felt. He wanted nothing more than to console her. To grab her and pull her close to him and take her pain away.

However, the sounds of footsteps coming down the hall put an abrupt end to that line of thinking. Dono put a hand on Joren's shoulder and pulled him away from Kelsa.

“Vod'ika, we have to go. They're still here.” He said as he drew his blaster.

“Kelsa, we have to go.-” Joren said to her. “Kelsa, we have to go, now. They're here.” He said again, this time over the sound of blaster fire.

Kelsa looked up, and when she saw the white armor of the stormtroopers entering what had been her father's office, a look of hatred etched itself on her face as she drew the blaster that they had given her while there were escaping the Hounds' compound, and fired several shots.

“They've got us pinned. We can't get past them!” Nyna shouted as she fired on the troopers.

“We don't have to.” Kelsa said, her voice suddenly calm.

“What?” Dono asked, unsure of what she had meant.

“My dad. He has an escape hatch that leads to the landing pad. I just have to get it open.” She explained as she went over to the desk and started to key in commands on the console. After several tense moments, the hatch slid open.

“Let's go!” Joren called as he pushed Kelsa into the narrow corridor that led to the landing pad.

The four friends raced through the winding corridor, dodging stun blasts as they went. Eventually, after rounding one final turn, they emerged from the corridor at the landing pad. There was only a single ship docked on the pad, a Starwind class pleasure yacht.

They reached the ship and managed to get up the boarding ramp just as the stormtroopers emerged from the corridor behind them. Dono and Nyna jumped into the pilot and copilot seats and began the pre-flight checklist.

“No time!-” Joren yelled to his friends as he watched more than a dozen stormtroopers move into the landing pad, making their way toward the ship.

Dono cursed to himself as he fired up the repulsorlifts, and the ship began to lift off even as the Imperials opened fire on it. Within moments, the ship took off, away from Nar Shaddaa and towards the void of open space.

Dram Cruvee watched the small vessel break free of Nar Shadaa's atmosphere. As it moved farther from the moon, it appeared to the Imperial captain that the vessel was actively avoiding engaging with the much larger Imperial Star Destroyer.

“What is that ship and where is it going?” Cruvee asked a deck officer.

“According to the transponder, it's a Starwind class pleasure yacht, the Twilight Dreams. It matches the description of the vessel that just blasted its way out of the Corellian Sector. I was just about to make contact, Sir.” the deck officer, a young man named Pistore, replied.

The Jedi. Cruvee thought to himself before he began barking orders.

“Do not allow that vessel to escape. I want that vessel brought aboard immediately. Have a boarding party ready, and set your weapons to stun. I don't want the occupants harmed. Is that clear?” Cruvee demanded.

“Yes Sir.” Pistore said as he began pressing a series of buttons, preparing the tractor beam.



Aboard the Twilight Dreams

There was a rush of excitement as the ship left the Smuggler's Moon behind. However, excitement soon turned to dread as the sight of the massive Star Destroyer loomed large in front of them. Nyna and Dono, from the co-pilot seats in the cockpit did their best to stay as far away from the ship as possible.

“Nyna...” Joren called out in concern as he watched the Star Destroyer approach their ship.

“Where are we going?” Nyna asked in a panic, her eyes as round as saucers as she too, watched the Star Destroyer draw nearer.

“Away from here!” Kelsa cried out as she kept her eyes on the Imperial ship.

“Starwind vessel Twilight Dreams, this is the Imperial Star Destroyer Waylander. You are in violation of Imperial Space, prepare to be boarded. Acknowledge.” A voice came from the communications system.

Joren watched out the view port as a squadron of TIE fighters left the Waylander, and moving together as if they were a swarm of like minded insects, they converged on the Twilight Dreams. A flash of green laser fire washed over the front view port as one of the TIE fighters fired a warning shot.

“Nyna...!-” Joren called to his friend again. “-Get us out of here!”

“To where?!” Nyna asked, frustrated. She had limited experience in flying a star ship, but she knew that a random jump to hyperspace was risky.

“Anywhere but here!” Joren exclaimed.

“Fine.” Nyna said as she began entering coordinates into the navicomputer.

“No time.” Dono said as he reached over and activated the hyperdrive. Instantly, the stars began to stretch into streaks of light as the Twilight Dreams made the jump to hyperspace.



Dram Cruvee watched as the smaller vessel blinked out of view as it entered hyperspace before the Waylander had been able to activate the tractor beam. He suddenly felt hot as rage boiled beneath the surface. The captain was furious. While the loss of the “Jedi” fueled his anger, it was also the perceived incompetence of his crew. Cruvee wanted to take the officer's datapad and throw it across the bridge, he knew that such a display would do him no good, and would make him appear weak in front of his crew. Instead he stood, staring out of the view port where the ship had been just moments before, and took a deep breath.

“Contact the platoon leader on the moon. Tell them to bring Amaral Kenso to me. I think it's time that we had a chat.” Cruvee said before turning away from the view port and taking his leave of the bridge.

“Yes sir.” Pistore said, relief taking hold as his commanding officer left him to his own devices.



“Where are we?” Joren asked as he looked out the view port at the blue-black void of space which surrounded them. They had dropped out of hyperspace, figuring that they were far enough away from Nar Shaddaa that the Imperials that had been pursuing them wouldn't be a problem, at least for the time being.

“Somewhere in the Mid Rim, I think.-” Dono said as he checked the computer. “-The Arkanis Sector shouldn't be too far.”

“The Arkanis Sector?-” Nyna asked. “That means we're close to the Pii System. We could always go there until we figure out what we're doing.”

“What's in the Pii System?” Kelsa asked.

“Greel wood, and that's about it.” Dono told her.

“Listen, I have family on Naboo. We can go there to lay low for a bit.” Nyna offered.

“No, not Naboo. If the Imperials made us, it won't be safe. They'll track us to Naboo, and that won't end well for any of us. Besides, the place is crawling with Gungans.”

Joren listened as Dono and Nyna discussed their next move. But soon, his attention turned to Kelsa, who was sitting, slumped over a table in the galley area. She was in pain, and he didn't need the Force to recognize that. She had suffered a major loss today, the loss of the woman who had raised her, as well as the loss of her father. Their escape from the Imperials hadn't given her the time she needed to process what had happened, but now that they had gotten away from their pursuers and there had been time enough for the events of the day to begin to sink in, the reality of the situation had finally hit her.

He had wanted nothing more than to comfort her. To tell her that he knew what it was like to lose your family, he wanted to tell her that everything would be alright, even if he didn't know that to be the truth. She needed to hear it. She needed her friends. However, as he began the trek across the lounge to where she was seated, he stopped suddenly.

He felt something that he hadn't felt since he was a child. Something he hadn't felt since...his father. It was as if something, or perhaps someone was reaching out to him. Calling him to...

“Tatooine.” Joren said finally.

“Did you say something, Vod'ika?” Dono asked, almost as if he had forgotten that Joren had been there the entire time.

“Tatooine. We're going to Tatooine.” Joren told them.

Dono and Nyna exchanged puzzled looks, but neither raised any objections. Tatooine wasn't a bad choice, as far as Dono knew, there was currently no Imperial presence on the desert planet, and even if there were, they weren't looking for them there. After several beats, Dono nodded in agreement and entered the coordinates into the navicomputer, and the stars again stretched into lines as the Twilight Dreams made the jump to hyperspace.

((Collab between myself and Sep, Part one...))



The black ship flew along its escort, and the pilots could see more clearly that it did not conform to any design they knew about. It was either purpose-built or customized in some way. As it came towards the Resolute, the tractor beam took hold and guided it into the awaiting bay, where no-doubt an escort of Imperials with guns stood at the ready. The small vessel pulled back its gun-wings and landing gears unfolded, and there it stood, like a creature awaiting that fatal mistake that would allow it to kill. The shaded cockpit opened next, and the pilot stood. Whoever was assigned to take the occupant for questioning would see a figure clearly built for battle, a very savage-looking Zabrak in dark clothing with a hooded coat. Tarak jumped down onto the deck plates, which seemed to resound a little as he did. He sneered at his escort, and said…

"Let it begin, then."

The Hangar was bustling with activity, though a single officer wearing the black of the Imperial Security Bureau with a squad of five troopers approached the strange ship, though more eyes were watching the vessel warily from a distance. The troopers held their weapons in a ready position, though they weren’t quite aiming directly at the towering alien. The ISB officer was the first one to speak. “Identification now. You have entered restricted Imperium Space without proper clearance codes.”

He locked his gaze upon the black-clad officer, marking him as the current focus of his frustrations, and began the merest push of the mental emanations which his Master so-delighted in crippling people with: Fear. They would feel anxious around him, as is, but to better suit his temperament, he wanted that feeling to gradually worsen. It would center upon the ISB Officer, but all within proximity should feel such a twinge, slowly but inexorably gripping their spines, turning their courage and fortitude into jelly. In the meantime, giving little indication that he was more than just an irritated and battle-seeking alien, he did reach into a pocket with deliberate slowness to produce an identity card, one which would be about as useful as vibro-blades situated upon the wings of his craft.

"I do not know how to get the ‘proper clearance codes’."

He handed the man his card, and when it was scanned through a datapad...it would read his name (Tarak), his planet of origin (Iridonia), his ownership of the Cleaving Tusk (the ship behind him), and nothing else. Nothing particularly useful. What he does for a living, where he’s been lately, etc. - these things were not present. No, it was a card obtained for him by Master Diabolus, who simply asked for an ident card to be made, explained what simple details were to be registered, and then ordered him to forget. Enough to fulfill the tedious task of being recognized as a person, but of no official use for anything beyond that, as it was completely unnecessary.

Despite the fear spreading throughout the hangar the officer remained composed. The stormtroopers fidgeted their blasters nervously, several engineers and pilots filed out of the hangar. No longer feeling needed. The Officer took the identification and slotted it into a nearby astromech, holographically displaying the details listed. “You get the ‘proper clearance’ by going through the correct channels ahead of time. Coruscant is deemed a high risk zone, the Rebels would love to cause chaos and destruction down on its surface.” He clicked his fingers and a datapad was brought out to him.

“Reason for visit?”

To the average person, this answer regarding access could have effectively meant anything from ‘You have to go through a tedious process of applying to some administrator over it.’ to ‘It’s not my problem and I don’t care.’ to ‘We don’t want your kind around here.’. Tarak was sure that if he actually had the patience to deal with this bantha fodder that he could easily subvert the will of some useless busybody to okay his travels...but he didn’t care either. Equally, he was not interested in this conversation, but rather in pushing this vexing no-name pain in his backside to the point of soiling himself. Thus, he said nothing until they wanted his explanation for coming here. The pad was set to record his statement, so as the fear sensation began to increase, he gave them this little gem.

"I await the bloody conflict that is to come to your precious world. The Rebels will come to sew chaos, but they will find me waiting, and they will despair as I snap them in half. That is how I earn my keep."

Everything about him indicated he was looking for a fight and geared to profit by it, essentially going with his strengths. There was more to it, of course, but this waste of space needed not glean anything further than the surface of things, at the moment. Even then, if he decided his curiosity out-weighed his sense, he was going to regret it...for about a fraction of a second, and then never again.

“So, bounty hunter? Or simply a maniac.” The Imperial Scoffed lightly, while the fear still spread through him and into the other troopers more visibly, the Agent visibly stood firm. He nodded to the troopers. “Detain him. He’s fine stock, we’ll find work for him somewhere.” HE looked dead into the eyes of the beast, unshaking and unwavering. “Don’t resist. I’d hate to need to clean this floor of your corpse.”

Obviously, the agent was made of sterner stuff than his subordinates. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to keep such a cool face in a situation such as this. Then again, it was equally likely that Tarak’s own mastery of the fear was not as strong as his master. You could say that this was good practice, but not at all like the man who could paralyze with a glance… Nevertheless, the Zabrak chose that moment to put on a nice and terrible grin on his face and returned the man’s stare with a glint of bloodlust in his eyes.

"Oh, I assure you… If I planned to resist, you would not have to worry for the floors."

The ruse had served, for now, but if these Imperial fools did not start marching to his tune, soon enough it would be time to see how well he could auger this ship into the capital or something. Or maybe just take it for his own, fill it with worthless pirates, and command them to burn the galaxy in his name. Whatever the case, for now he would allow them to escort him around. The very second one of them had the courage to touch his weapons, there would be a blazing ignition and a number of heads would fall to the floor. A Sith can only take so much.

Two Stormtroopers moved forward, one of them pulling out stun cuffs, grabbing the beast's left wrist and locking it in. While he was working on moving towards clipping in the right wrist the other trooper was moving to search the Zabraks body and remove any weapons from his possession.

The next thing the Officer knew, the Storm Trooper searching for weapons flew past him as the Zabrak raised his uncuffed hand. Couldn’t tell from that angle whether he’d struck him or not, but it seemed like the trooper was arcing nicely towards the nearest wall. Usually a feat for large beasts, not most humanoids. Of course, the tubular device IN said hand was unmistakable, same going for the one that shot from belt to right hand as the cuffing trooper watched, shortly before it ignited into his chest. The Officer would see both weapons ignite, watch as the blazing orange light was burning through one of his men, and probably realize that something along the same lines as Lord Vader was going on here. His ‘captive’ now smiled at him.

"It seems my lie got carried away. Now then...shall you escort me to the captain of this vessel, or...will you be deprived the luxury of worrying about clean-up as I promised?"

An ultimatum: Obey or die. Even if the Officer knew diddly about Sith and Jedi, it was clear that the situation was not good.

ISD-Blackstar(Hangar-Catwalks)
Maran whistled softly as he leaned on the railing. “That one’s a looker.” He commented. “Definitely a sight for sore eyes.”

“You can’t even see her face from up here, or did you get cyber eyes when I wasn’t looking?” Jarael said, squinting her own eyes as if to test her own statement.

“Who said anything about the face, get a load of th- yeow!” Jarael elbowed him, drawing out a short yelp.

Various crew members had gathered in the catwalks, each of them having heard one way or another that the Blackstar was suddenly taking on passengers. Obsidian stuck together, to gossip more closely, but every spectator in the catwalks were doing the same with their own groups, creating a noticeable buzz. Those on the lower level of the hanger occasionally glanced upwards at them, but largely paid them no mind.

“This is an Imperial vessel, why are we taking on civilians?” Blanche grumbled as he stared downwards, no doubt creating an ominous image of himself. “If they took on damage, we could have sent someone from Imperial Center.”

“The Warhead did some serious damage before we showed up, they wouldn’t have lasted another hour alone.” Ben said flatly, arms crossed, staring at the docked vessel like everyone else.

The ship had been brought into the hanger, connected by the giant umbilical, which kept it in place as the passengers slowly exited.
Liam observed the craft, it looked like one of those old republic consular ships, but with an expanded crew quarters compartment. Dozens of scorch marks painted the once bright red hull, he also noticed larger laser scoring where the communications and weapons emplacements had once been.

“Why would a star destroyer come after a civilian cruiser like this? It’s barely armed in the first place.” Liam crinkled his brows and unconsciously tiled his head, as if trying to get a different angle on the ship.

“This is Imperial territory, no matter what, somebody would have found him. Maybe he was hoping to confront imperials?” Maran said with a shrug.

“I’ve heard of that. Those ‘warlords’ trying to build up allies, that might have been what happened up there.” Ben said, giving his hand a shake and pointing upwards.

“I’m glad the Captain has a pair, staying with the Grand Imperium is the best choice. Someone has to uphold the law in this damn galaxy.” Liam said nodding his head.

Jarael turned her head to him and smirked. “You might want to rethink your phrasing; the Captain is unique in that regard.”

“Hey, you never know! She crippled the Warhead with minimal casualties, she’s got something going on, and it’s not just those perfe-“ Maran eagerly started up with a grin, before he was shut down by a large, firm hand, slamming onto his shoulder.

Ben started to speak in his place. “She’s certainly creative, I know they don’t teach that in officer’s school. Under Captain Koumer we would have gone through a lot more TIEs.” He gave a subtle shake of the end as he mentioned the former Captain.

“Captain Koumer would have finished it. We merely broke the legs. She still has fangs.” Blanche said, still not looking away from the newcomers.

“That’s for the best, the ship didn’t do anything wrong. We change out the Captain and everything’s back to normal.” Liam said smoothly.

ISD-Blackstar(Captain’s ready room)
It was a simple room, just a little bigger than normal crew quarters, not meant to entertain visitors for long. In front of the right side of the door; was a grey desk with a terminal on top, two chairs in front, along with a small bookshelf to the side. On the left side were two couches surrounding a small rectangular table, with a window to space positioned in front.

“It sounds like they’re having a hard time.” The woman sitting behind the desk mused.

“Well, it is a bit unorthodox to take in so many non-imperial vessels so soon. The Z-95 is secured in the fighter compartments to make room for the Overseer. The Overseer itself is in bad shape, but the mechanics have it under control.” The man, Senior Lieutenant Mantelli Rousten, said.

“The chief had his crew pull all-nighters; we should get hyperspace back in just an hour.” Mantelli said before handing over a datapad and nodded.

The Captain perused through it while Mantelli stood silent. “Have you read through this?”

“Yes, Captain.”

The Captain, Merril Lorrange, continued flicking her finger up and down the screen. “A university with a starship? Ah, the Palpatine University.” Merril thought out loud. “But why would a Star Destroyer attack a school ship?”

“Would you like to question the Warhead’s captain personally, Captain?”

Merril paused, keeping her gaze on the datapad. “Let the interrogation droids go through him first, I'll go down tomorrow.”

It might feel good to see him as roughed up as my ship.

“If it were just rebels, I would have given the order to sink them.” Merril sighed. “But it’s not just rebels, I don’t know who on that ship is loyal to the Captain, and who’s loyal to the Empire.”

“And what if none of them are?” The Captain’s brows furrowed, but she spoke up after another moment.

“Have we gotten a response about the Warhead?”

“Grand Imperium says a patrol group will be coming by to take care of her and her crew.” He stated back as flatly as usual, she noticed.

“Then they can handle that.” Merril placed the datapad down and looked up.

“Have the captured pilots said anything?”

“They maintain that they weren’t told anything, just following orders, trying to survive. Interrogation droids?”

The Captain brought a hand up to her chin and looked elsewhere for a moment. “No, this is a matter for ISB, we’ll let them handle it.”

“Captain...they would use droids.”

“They won’t interrogate the Warhead’s entire crew; the Captain is enough.” Merril said, and then locked her eyes onto his, sending a determined glare. “I’ve made a decision.” She added, with a firm undertone.

“Yes, Captain.” He said, rigidly, his gaze straight ahead.

“Dismissed.”

Mantelli saluted, turned on his heels, and walked out. As the door hissed closed behind him, she let out a sigh.

A single starship emerged from the hangar of the Relentless Endeavor, then made a rapid beeline for Utrost. The RM-09 shuttle quickly broke through the clouds of the former Galactic Republic world, shaking gingerly as it ripped through the atmosphere towards the surface. The elite five man commando unit were the only ones nestled in the back of the craft as the pilot loosened their tight grip on the throttle. The early morning sun shined brightly across the plains of the core world, its urban centers still bearing the scars of the wars waged on it. The team's destination sat on the outskirts of the capital city of Exaron. Sergeant Vale knew the closer they got to the city center, and to the Imperial occupation facility, the more intense the enemy's numbers would be. This old base they were assigned to take didn't likely have swarms of stormtroopers stationing it. Either way they were going to tear through every single plastic boy in that old site, though with a healthy dose of stealth to their actions. The last thing they needed was to have the entire Imperial garrison bearing down on their asses.

Zena stood up as the pilot spoke into the shuttle's intercom, indicating they were three minutes from the dropzone. Her team were landing in the rocky hills a ways up from the base, a perfect vantage point to get a drop on any troopers. As she did a final weapons check her team waited in silence around her. Her second in command, Eensil stared silently at the floor with fists clenched as he amped himself up. Silently replaying past mistakes and failures in his mind to motivate himself to success. Private Leapfar pulled fingerless gloves onto her claw tipped fingers as the squad's medic double knotted the laces of his boots. Dakkar wordlessly spoke a prayer of his species, eyes shut as he asked one of Yuzzem's goddesses for a fruitful hunt and a blessing of survival. The head commando thought of fallen family as she placed her helmet over her head, then whispered each of their names to herself.

"Kenall. Wina. Crixian. Oran."

A customary ritual before every operation, to remind herself why she'd taken up arms against the Empire. Why she wouldn't rest until every single world was freed from their tyrannical talons. The pilot spoke again as the shuttle descended, having already flown in low to minimize the chances of detection. It paused in air roughly thirty feet above the surface as the shuttle door slid open. Each member of the five man team stepped forward and clamped their belts to ropes which dropped from the outside top of the shuttle. Then one after another the soldiers repelled downwards, as dust kicked up with each one's soles landing on the hard surface of the world. As the Vorn Tigers unhooked themselves the ropes ascended up, then the shuttle ascended towards the skies and left them on the world to begin their mission.

"Alright my friends, our pilot graciously dropped us off not far from our target. Right across the canyon down range for us. We get a nice scenic walk on our way their. Stealth is on our side, if we see any Imps we take them out quickly and silently. Private Leapfar, I need you to flank to the side and get a higher vantage point on the base. Radio in any signs of Imperium activity that you see."

"Ay, ma'am!" The Nosaurian scout sniper replied with a rapid salute, then jogged to the side where a group of rocks rose above the canyon. Bima was ideal for such a task, she was the quickest on her feet and most compact in size. The markswoman barely stood four and a half feet in height, Zena doubted the Imperials would notice her petite form dashing across the canyon.

"Form up on me, I want blasters silent unless you hear my own go off." The Aldeerani commando stated assertively as her team followed behind her as the quartet moved forward.

Ultrost was a populated world, she pitied the poor denizens that suffered under the Imperium's fist. They'd be freed by the end of the day, when the X-Wings and Y-Wings came hurtling through the skies. She was itching to move onto the next phase of their assignment, the freeing of the prisoners inside the two detention camps on the world. Zena was practically salivating at watching those disgusting prisons burn to the ground, they were a testament to the unending brutality of the Empire. But for the moment she had to keep her thoughts cooled and focused on taking the former republic base. As she lead her team through down the canyons she heard Bima's voice speak over the commlink.

"Sarge, I've made it the vantage point. Have a clear view on the base, I count less than eight stormtroopers stationed outside of it. Two snipers perched on the rooftop, chatting with each other. There's also a patrol duo right near your current location. I can't see inside the base but I do not believe it is very heavily garrisoned." Private Leapfar stated as she laid on the ground, her E-11s poisitioned on a bipod with a clear sight of the target location.

"Excellent work Leapfar. Keep me posted on any Imperium movements, we're moving to take down that patrol then strike the base." Zena replied as she shifted forward, having spotted the two patrolmen her squadmate had spoke of. Both stormtroopers had their backs to them, she could hear them talking to each other, clearly bored.

"As long as we strike rapidly and subtly it should be an easy battle. Even if they managed to radio to reinforcements in the city that would take some time to get here." Bima added as she focused her scope on the two scout troopers on the rooftop. One of them mocking the motion of a club, the two chatting about some sporting event blissfully unaware of the approaching Republic commando unit.

Sergeant Vale drew her vibroknife as she nodded at Corporal Keeg. The Duros copied her own action as he drew his own vibroblade. Both soldiers pushed forward slowly, careful to not make any noise as to not startle the two enemy troopers just in front of them. Zena struck first as she expertly struck the nearest one. Her free hand reached out to grab the stormtrooper's shoulder, then as she faced the surprised man towards her she plunged her knife into his neck. As he crumbled to the floor his compatriot turned towards Zena to react only to receive Eensil's own knife into the back of his skull. The vibrating blade tore through the helmet as the second stormtrooper hit the floor in a heap. As the Duros pulled his knife from the dead man's skull Zena dragged the corpse of the trooper she slain backwards behind a set of rocks, out of view of any potential Imperial eyes. Particularly those currently slacking off snipers on the roof. Eensil did the same as the team then moved forward, inching closer to the base.

"Bima, is there any way we can get inside without alerting all of them?" Zena asked through her commlink as her team tucked behind some ferns and rocks. "I don't mind going loud but I'd rather not if I don't have to."

"Sarge, there's a garage on the side you are approaching from, if you can slip inside there then you could knock out any Imperials inside, wreck their comms and make the stragglers easy targets," Private Leapfar replied as she hovered her scope over the garage, noting another duo of stormtroopers along with a third scrubbing graffiti off a troop transport. "I count three plastics, you should have the drop on them."

"Got it." Zena replied as she raised a hand to tell her team to move forward again, closer to the garage. Several crates were spread outside of it, while the trooper transport was closer the shut garage door. Though a smaller door right next to them offered an avenue to get inside.

"Imik, Vebb, go left. I'll get those two turned away from the third, then you jump on them. Dakkar, stay posted here in case things get hot. I've got the scrubbing soldier." The veteran commando ordered as she reached down to pick up a rock. Just large enough to make a noise to hopefully draw in the two plastic boys. As she pushed right and slipped behind a crate she chucked the rock, out of view of the soldiers with their backs turned. It hit the floor on the left side of the targets.

"Did you hear that?" One of the stormtroopers asked as he drew his blaster, then walked towards the rock as the other soldier followed. The trooper tasked with cleaning just shook his head, thinking it was just some rat scurrying about.

Then Zena struck again, knife drawn as she pulled the solitary trooper backwards. Her vibroblade slammed into his neck, then craved across as she whispered and shushed him. Imik and Eensil struck as efficiently, bringing down both their assigned targets lethally. The Aldeerani once more tucked the dead stormtrooper behind the transport, while her other two squadmates similarly shifted the duo of corpses in the same spot. It wouldn't matter once they cleared out the inside of the base, but there was no such thing as being too sure. The trio then strolled towards the door, Zena smirking as it was unlocked.

"Bima, stay where you are. We've made it inside the base, we're gonna go loud and take out every Imperial inside. The troopers on the outside will start moving. I want you to open fire on them. Dakkar, get an angle on those two snipers. Take them down as soon as the shooting starts. Efficiency is the word here." The sergeant radioed in orders efficiently as the trio snuck inside the base. She drew her blaster rifle as she ended her words, prepared for a forceful entry. Imik and Vebb drew their weapons as well.

They were greeted by another trio of stormtroopers inside the garage, stationed outside of an elevator. If the layout of the base was correct then that lift would take them to the second floor, where the communications center was. They'd knock that out and clear the way for the cavalry, then take out every single damned trooper in the building. Zena leveled her blaster at the three soldiers before them, then squeezed the trigger. The two other Vorn Tigers with her did the same as they blasted bolts towards the unsuspecting enemies.

"Going hot!" Zena exclaimed as the trio went down, then shifted towards the elevator. Imik pulled the helmet off of one of the downed men and heard frantic chatter, other stormtroopers wondering what the hell just happened. As they stepped inside the lift he dropped the helmet, the troopers on the outside reacted and headed for the other door into the building on the opposite side where they'd breached in.

Bima did as was expected of her, as a single shot rang out and struck into one of the stormtroopers. It scattered the others as Dakkar grunted and unleashed his DLT-19 towards the surprised scout troopers. Both snipers went down in shock as the pure barrage of laser fire ripped towards them as both men dropped. Smoke lifted from their armor as the hulking machine gunner turned his weapon towards the other troopers on the outside. Inside the base the elevator rose upwards, taking advantage of the sudden strike.

"They're gonna know we're coming up this way." The Mon Calamari stated cautiously, holding tightly onto his blaster rifle as he looked at the team's commanding officer.

"Let them. They won't know what’s gonna hit them." Sargent Vale smirked underneath her helmet, as the elevator reached the second floor.

Koren Ozzel

Koren sat in the briefing room. Various admirals and generals sat around the table with governors present as holograms, only one seat was left empty. The one belonging to Dredar. Right now the first sector commander was going over details from the Blackstar and a rogue Star Destroying flying under the banner of the Warhead. Technically the Blackstar was slight outwith the borders that the Imperium had set out for itself though working on the outside of Imperium Space to take a look at what was going on and solidify the borders. While Koren didn't extensively want to expand on the conflict and prolong the war. He was going to have to work on expanding their territory back to where they could solidify and maintain their territory.

He picked up his mug of caf and took a sip as he looked over the rim of the mug. "What's the status of our outer worlds?"

Admiral Mosius stood up as a map appeared. "With losing Grizmallt, we're expecting the New Republic to continue pushing in. We've moved forces from the Deep Core to bolster the border. General Rom Mohc has completed his factory ship and is bringing it too Coruscant, he's ready to move forward with the phase two designs and they'll soon bolster our forces." Koren nodded as the Admiral continued to speak. "Our biggest concern is the backlog of civilian ships trying to get into the Imperial Centre. People with permits are getting through as intended, but there's a backlog of civilian refugees trying to get to the planet, and we simply can't search the vessels fast enough-"

General Vizver spoke up next, he was in charge of defending the populace of Coruscant and deal with all the little uprisings that were going on on the planet. "We're diverting what assets we can to help the navy perform the sweeps, but we can't divert military assets that we need elsewhere and stormtroopers don't necessarily always make good police officers-"

"How dare you-" That was General Trunk, head of the Stromtrooper Corps.

Koren raised his hand. "He holds a valid point Atticus. The Corps is designed as a fighting force, and while some of what they do can be consider peacekeeping it's not exactly the presence we need in searching ships."

He sighed. This was going to be a long meeting.

One of the many benefits of a convenient arm-mounted computer is the ease in which its operations may be carried out while amidst some other task, such as eating. She had to admit, the food here was great. It was all seafood, but it was still of good quality and taste. Well, trust the critter who thinks only in terms of common sense. You go where you like the things you’ll be served. That said, Singe would’ve preferred he ate with the utensils… In any case, her browsing of the local Hutt-Net - Yes, they called it that. Shut up. - did turn up some of the things she found necessary to her work. Singe’s programs were complex, created to make sure she would never have to worry about any traces back to her hideout. The false-identifier masks that let her delvings seem like ordinary everyday information packets, the rotating false-origin markers that redirected security inquiries to different locations, the forged independent and Imperial investigator ident keys, the history eraser button, the logic bomb, and so on - these were the tools of a career Slicer, except she didn’t do it for the money because she regularly used somebody else’s accounts for money. That was why mercenaries loved her work. If nothing else, she makes good with the payment, hands down.

All that said…

What’s this?

Someone was using a forged account themselves, letting the system tracers look it over and not find anything because they have no reason to be looking hard. It seemed like there was a bit of a search going on. That was interesting...or trouble. Singe stood up from her meal and told Goggles that she was heading off to the restroom. The Tynnan thought nothing of it, but then...he didn’t see her raised eyebrow through the pixel-face. She headed off to go find a stall and keep an eye on activities, both on the net and in the general camera-observed vicinity.

“She’s still at that diner then?” Alena had just finished returning the bail jumper to the guild and had received her reward. At the moment, she was on her speeder, riding through the cities. “Yes, from what I've seen she hasn’t moved ye- scratch that, she just got up to go somewhere. Her friend is still there, however.”

As she thought. Cameras in the Taste of Mon-Cal and a possible observer of her activities in the system. Sitting in the stall, Singe was no-longer pixel-faced and sitting down with her feet against the door, working her way through the local system and deciding to play a few cards.

Let’s see how intelligent we are...

A nip and tuck, a false timestamp, and voila! She had isolated her prior image - her and her alone - superimposed it on the current activities of the diner, showing her pixel-face self sitting down and fussing with her machines. Smirking at this, she waited to see if somebody busted on in, looking all confused, or indeed if the bandwidth of the security network around here would increase with possible secure chatter. The best part of this was that even if they realize what happened, they might assume ANY part of her being here was a fake.

Parking the speeder, Umbral casually heads toward the diner. “She apparently came back boss, she’s still sitting down at the booth, this should be easy.” Kina reports through the commlink, Alena taking the information in stride as she enters the restaurant, quickly surveying the inside.

Odd. The woman is not where she ought to be, yet the alien remains, eating his meal. Taking this news in stride, Umbral walks toward a booth and sits down, making sure she faces the Tynnan and the booth he was sitting in. She removes her helmet and places it on the table, smiling at the waitress when she arrives, ordering a local fruit juice as well as a small meal.

She was more than willing to wait this out, she’s already seen the Tynnan speak in the video, which led her to believe that the girl was here. She was due to return eventually and if she didn’t, she had a little friend here that would be happy to introduce her.

Hmmm...

So, they were playing this patiently, were they. It wasn’t an Imperial strike team, but it could still be a bounty hunter. Tapping her knee for a second, Singe thought about what to do next. Well, the first thing that was obvious was that Goggles was under observation, and he would hate to be left oblivious to the whole situation. So, she called him via comlink. They would see him look at the thing on his arm irritably and he’d hit the button. That was when he got…

”Talk to me like I’m your Nemoidian contact.”

”You?! When the hell did you get this number?!”

The Tynnan understood he was to be acting almost immediately.

”React as though I’m about to torch your vessel.”

”You even TRY IT and I’ll turn your innards into outtards!”

”Now, head off like your ship’s on fire.”

He paid first. Easiest way to get out was slamming down cred chips and bolting, so there won’t be a pair of angry Mon-Calamari trying to hold him up. From there, the furry little critter would head out on all-fours. Would they follow him on a wild Ton-Ton chase? Or would they stick around and see what else happened?

Alena only frowned as the critter threw money on the table and sprinted out of the diner, her gaze following him until her view was obstructed. That was the last thing she expected was going to happen and it would make a scene if she got up and followed the rodent, especially one that was undoubtedly faster than her. But, on the bright side… it did confirm two things to the Bounty Hunter.

One, she was being watched. It was all too convenient that her quarry’s friend would dash not long after she entered. Especially with her friend missing. And two, that her quarry was most likely still in the building. Alena had seen diversion tactics and wild goose chases many times before in her line of work. As such, she remained firmly stuck in her booth, thanking the waitress when she brought her food, then began eating her meal.

Yes...it would appear that the focus was definitely on her, as nobody seemed interested in Goggles at all. At least, that was what the cameras told her. She didn’t see where he went after leaving the range of the restaurant security grid. It was also difficult to tell who, besides the woman that had entered, was apparently tailing her. Had to assume there were ‘friends’ of hers waiting outside, if she wasn’t a solo bounty hunter. Seemed unlikely, though, unless she was also accomplished at Slicing. See, Singe was fairly sure she could take down the odd tough with a good blaster bolt between the eyes and call that job done, but it would seriously cut into what she was good at, and to that effect, a mercenary - battle-hardened and ready to make alot of people die would find Slicing to be best delegated to a Slicer or an accomplished droid.

This was the hunter, the soldier, the fighter. Someone else had tapped into the cameras. Ergo, someone else was lying in wait, and perhaps not alone. Now, Singe had not seen any of the usual signs of a bounty hunter team. No group of thugs waiting in ambush outside, no quiet insertion of people in the room itself like Kiara preferred to do. No, this was just one person, for now. Likely, the situation would be that if she was spotted, a quick signal would be given to tell her friends to pay attention and watch her, follow her as long as necessary, and then a big confrontation or alot of gunfire would follow. There had to be a way to avoid this, because while she had escape measures, they were strictly last resort. There had to be...ummm....heh heh...heh heh heh heh heh heh… That was a brilliant idea. She called Goggles.

“Hey there! So, you out yet?

”No, still in, but I’ve got an idea… You told me you’ve got a friend on this planet who’d shoot anyone for a bit of cred, right?”

”Oh yeah! My buddy, Morgas, and I go shoot up thugs and infestations for a laugh! Gets a bit of money on the table too.”

”Call ‘im. I’ll leave this channel so you know what’s going on, but in short...I’m pulling a quick reversal.”

She gave the Tynnan long enough to send out his message before calling back and letting him hear everything that happened. Singe hit a button to turn off the cameras, stepped out of the restroom, and calmly walked over to the woman (Alena)...before pointing her gun at her.

“It’s been a long chase, but it’s over now. The Grant Hutt Council is waiting. Don’t try anything foolish. My friends are waiting outside and we have your Slicer friend targeted. I suggest you and I walk out of here peacefully, so that these people can resume their meals and nobody gets shot.”

Her plan...was to act like a bounty hunter with a strike team for the Hutts. No one would interfere with serious Hutt business, so that kept most of the riff-raff out, even if the woman herself didn’t buy it, and she wouldn’t. Even still, there was a definite element of risk here that would depend on what happened in the next few seconds. If only Goggles wasn’t ruining the moment with his chuckling in the earpiece of her comlink…

Alena nonchalantly looked up to the girl that was now pointing a gun at her, not betraying her emotions as she continued to chew her food. With a swallow, she continued in silence for a few moments longer before opening her mouth. “You know, it’s quite rude to point a gun at someone you’ve just met.” Though not unexpected, to say in the least. She takes her napkin and lightly dabs her mouth with it, her face now revealing a grin. “If you fully intend to interrupt my meal, by all means let’s go.” She stands up from the booth, leaving a rather large tip on the table, then lets the small girl lead her out of the diner.

Her reaction was...not the best. She knew this was all a load of Krait droppings, but Singe decided to just be patient with this and let it flow the way it was. She merely said “Rude, but not uncommon.” as she patiently waited for the other woman to do her thing. Her delaying may have made this all feel a little silly, but the fact is that it actually helped in a way. In any case, Alena would find that her quarry wasn’t making any rookie mistakes, at least. She stepped out of arm’s reach, no nervous twitch or exaggerated motions, and she didn’t waggle the gun to indicate which direction to move, but used her free hand to indicate that she was heading to the main entrance first. It was only after they were in motion that the Sephi would ask “So, who sent you?” in a delightful voice.

“No one, but myself.” She responds simply. “You have a very long list of accomplishments, many more I'm sure aren’t even on your record. You were just too interesting to pass up and such a difficult but rewarding catch. I thought I'd have to go through some dastardly chase, but here you are, walking in stride to meet me.”

“I could have done, but in all honesty, I just don’t have the patience for it, right now.”

She was trying to be conversational, but it was clear that she had twelve things on her mind, four of which were probably on the here-and-now. As they made it to the door, Singe continued on by saying…

“Of course, if this is about the Imperial Contract, I’d advise against trying to collect. For one, I’d have to kill you, but if that’s not enough, I should point out there’s a virus in the galactic banking network that will empty any Imperial account that I managed to flag straight into a few hundred different charities and organizations. You’d probably never see the money.”

Now, if anyone was paying much attention to the area around The Taste of Mon-Cal, they’d know that when Goggles left, he did so on an FC-20 compact speeder bike. And if anyone was paying attention now, they might notice him quietly returning soon...with a second FC-20...occupied by a grinning, gun-toting Dug. The Dug wasn’t being quite as subtle here as the Tynnan, but then he was promised a good time shooting things.

“The Imperial Contract is just what I used to track you down, I'm not too interested in that. I’m more interested in you and what you can do. You see, Slicers are a dime a dozen, it’s hard to find one that’s committed to something other than money. Which is exactly why you got my attention. I have something that I want to do and I think you’re a good way to help me get it."

Alena stopped walking as she reached the door, pushing it open. “Now, would you like to sit down and discuss things or would you rather get into a firefight. And you can trust me when I say that you will not get unscathed even with a blaster at my back.”

Alena would hear a quick snort of amusement from behind her, then the telltale sign of a blaster being replaced on one’s belt. Now that they were outside and there was some assurance of not having to deal with someone wanting her in pieces, Singe felt a little more comfortable.

“I wouldn’t get very far, shooting up my clients, now would I?”

If the other woman turned, she’d be able to take her in properly without the low lights of the diner. She didn’t have so much a cocky swagger or a confident stride in her approach as...a willingness to believe in her own methodical nature to bear fruit. You see it all the time in people who are just more practical by habit. The slight motions of her uncovered right eye - which was amber or orange, very unusual for a Sephi - suggested that the left eye was working a tactical device under the eyepatch, probably making sure she couldn’t be snuck up on, all while coordinating her friends. She crossed her arms now.

“You pick the bar, and be prepared to feed the Dug. He sounds unhappy there won’t be any shooting tonight.”

“I’m sure I can find some place with decent enough food and grog. Let me find my friend and tell her everything’s okay, so she doesn’t worry. I’ll send the location later, does that sound good?”

The Sephi just went “Sure, sure.”, as though it were decided already, letting the other woman get on with it.

Kina was frantically typing away at her computer, trying to figure out what was happening. Everything was going fine and all of a sudden her employer was being led out of the diner by gunpoint. She was nearly about to run out of the cafe to try and find her when someone sat at her table, from behind the computer. “Hey, do you mind looking up some nice bars?” Alena calmly asks with a shit eating grin on her face.

---

The hum of the hyperdrive filled Huc Vondar's ears as the intercom alert buzzed in his quarters aboard the Corellian Dawn, rousing him from a deep sleep. He smiled as he listened to his baby purr as it hurtled through hyperspace. The drive had never run better. That capacitor Gor-Nada had picked up on Ord Mantell was as good as he said it would be. Fuel consumption on the ship was down almost ten percent, and that meant everything out here near Wild Space.

Huc liked it out this far from the core, at least when it came to the worlds. Sparsely inhabited and far more interesting from an ecological standpoint. Seeing worlds untouched by the industry that had both ravaged Corellia and made it such a successful economy was freeing. The jungles of his home planet had their own kind of beauty, but it was hard to find vast stretches untouched by mining or the shipyards. But out here the crew of the Dawn could have been the first people to see some of these places.

Back during the days of Imperial rule on Corellia, he had always dreamed of exploring the galaxy like this. He had already seen so much, and had barely scratched the surface of the vast worlds that filled known space.

Once again the buzzer of the intercom went off, and he pressed it to respond, "What is it, Duck?"

"We will be coming out of hyperspace shortly," AC-DK, the commercial pilot droid who now acted as the Dawn's copilot, announced from the cockpit, which he rarely ever left. He had been programmed to constantly be flying Starspeeder 3000s for Star Tours, one of the galaxy's main commercial space travel corporations. Huc had won the droid on a miracle bet during a podrace on Tattooine. He'd never forget the look on the Zabrak's face he won Duck from. His horns seemed to turn upside down to match the frown on his face. Huc still chuckled sometimes when he thought about it. But Duck was an invaluable as a co-pilot, especially since he didn't need to sleep. What he lacked in style, he made up for in dependability.

"Will be right up," he responded to his co-pilot groggily. "I'll grab some caf and meet you in the cockpit."

He stretched out and put his feet on the bantha skin rug he had picked up for his modest quarters aboard the YT-2000 Freighter. There was only about a meter and a half of space between the bed and the door. On the walls were small holo frames that displayed images he had taken on his travels. These sprung to life as he got out of bed. He smiled to see the memories of him and the crew. None of them had ever thought a few years ago that they'd ever be this free.

Huc dressed quickly and stepped out into the main hall of the Corellian Dawn. To his left was the Holonet Terminal and the cockpit, and across the hall was Yu'li's room. He hoped the beast she had picked up recently was in there with her. He didn't need another Fuzzball ambush. He turned to the right and walked past Gor-Nada's room, the rumble of the huge Herglic snoring away emanating out to here. which they had to make by knocking down a wall, sealing off a door, and combining two rooms. Still, the big old guy deserved to be comfortable.

The door to the crew lounge opened, and he made his way eagerly towards the caf machine. He had managed to score some Felucian Roast at their last stop, which was a godsend. Before that he had to make do with the stuff the Republic and the Ewoks were growing on Endor. It just didn't have the same kind of kick.

Once his mug was filled with the steaming liquid, he made his way back to the cockpit and took the pilot's chair next to Duck. The gleaming silver that covered most of the droid's body was almost as good of a pick me up. He still bore the trademark blue and orange detailing and the Star Tours logo on his breast. It was something Huc kept meaning to rectify, but there never seemed to be time to get him a paint job. He stood at about four feet, and was built like a brawler. Star Tours had built a good looking droid with the AC series, that much was certain.

"Sleep well?" the droid asked, taking a quick glance over to him.

"I'll sleep better when we unload this cargo. Moving weapons always makes me nervous," Huc responded, taking a sip of his caf, enjoying the smooth, rich nuttiness. "At least Oga is a reliable fence for this kind of stuff."

"Have you found a suitable fence for me? Since I am stolen property after all," Duck responded without looking over.

"You seriously need to stop saying that," Huc sighed and rubbed his temples. The droid had never been properly reprogrammed, as the skilled needed was over his skill level. He had done enough to ensure that the droid would not run and would perform his job admirably, but the commercial pilot programming in him was stubbornly ingrained. "I won you fair and square."

"I was not property to be wagered!" he protested.

"Well, that's on that Zabrak, not me, pal," Huc smiled mischievously as the Dawn's navicomputer alerted him that they were approaching their final destination of Batuu.

"Shall I wake Yu'li and Gor-Nada?" Duck asked.

"Nah, let them get some more sleep," the pilot shook his head and began running the Dawn through the paces of coming out of hyperspace. "I think the two of us can bring our girl into Black Spire Outpost alone. We've done it enough."

Suddenly, the white blur of hyperspace peeled away from around the cockpit of the Corellian Dawn and the blue-green marble that was Batuu filled their gaze. But that wasn't the only thing that met them. Hovering in orbit above the planet was an Imperial Star Destroyer.

"Uh, Duck?"

"Wake the others?"

"Yea that'd be great."

After a few presses of the comm buttons, Yu'li Tavir and Gor-Nada appeared in the cockpit. Yu'li, Huc's best friend and closest confidant, moved with the grace of a dancer. The Togrutan had always been graceful, even on the battlefield. It didn't hurt that she could shoot the ears of a gundark at fifty meters. Gor-Nada, a hulking Herglic, merely stood in the cockpit, unable to fit comfortably through the door without effort. Gor was the closest thing either Yu'li or Huc had to a parent at this point, with Huc's dead and Yu'li's in parts unknown. Slow to anger and quick to dispense advice, his calm demeanor betrayed his muscular, whale-like appearance.

"Oh crap," was all the Herglic was able to mutter when he saw the enemy craft.

"They can't have known where we were going," Yu shook her head in disbelief, her head tails swaying with a slight delay to match. "We attacked that convoy three systems ago."

She wasn't wrong. If the Empire knew that Batuu was one of the places the Dawn, an officially sanctioned Republic privateer vessel, liked to offload the merch that they took, they'd be in bigger trouble across the galaxy. They had fake transponder codes running for the ship whenever they were outside New Republic space, so they wouldn't be recognized right away. Still, there always was a slight danger.

But Batuu was remote, and little used in these days. At one time it was an important refueling station in the more remote bands of the Outer Rim, but hyperspace lanes had passed it by. It was more likely that whatever the reason was for a Star Destroyer to be here, it was secret.

"I doubt they're here for us," Huc assured them, though not fully sure of that himself. "Probably some two bit Imp captain who ran off with his Destroyer to play war lord. But if there was any wind about us out there, at least we have good fake IDs and a shipping manifest. Still, jump in one of the gun wells, Yu'li. Just in case."

"And what happens if they want to board us?" she asked, cocking an eye at him.

"I'll talk them out of it?"

"How?"

"I can be very persuasive," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"We're doomed," she sighed and headed for the guns.

"Gor, just check that our manifest looks legit. And maybe hide."

"Why?"

"Because if we do get boarded a charging Herglic is bound to scare off a few bucket heads," Huc smiled broadly.

Gor-Nada grumbled something as he turned and headed for the cargo hold.

"Duck, take the stick," he nodded to the droid.

"Why is that?" the co-pilot was surprised. Huc rarely if ever gave up control of the Dawn when he was in the cockpit.

"Because you love to fly boring," the captain shrugged. "Will arouse less suspicion."

"Boring!? I will have you know that my programming allows me to fly any craft at peak galactic regulation-specified levels!"

"Yea," Huc nodded and patted him on his metallic shoulder. "That constitutes boring, buddy."

"You're impossible," Duck shook his head, the slight whir of his neck servos buzzing in the cockpit.

Before long, a hail from the planet came to the Dawn. Huc sighed with relief as he saw that it came from no other than the defacto mayor of Black Spire Outpost, the Blutopian Oga Garra. Black Spire was the planet's largest settlement, and Oga had been the proprietor of the cantina there for longer than anyone could remember. That alone gave her sway over the town, not to mention the black market contacts needed to move the Corellian Dawn's merchandise.

"Oga," Huc smiled and accepted the transmission, "it's been too long."

"You're damn right it'sh been too long!" the slurping of the Blutopian's tentacles marred her speech slightly. "I've been waiting on that Trandossshan ale for far too long!"

"Well, give us a docking berth and we'll break into the first cask together!"

"Docking Bay 9," she transmitted the berthing codes. "Will meet you there."

"Oga coming personally to the docking bay means trouble. She almost never does that," Huc shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this."