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Yavin IV



Lahana fiddled with her blaster as she leaned back in her seat aboard Kale's ship. They were currently in hyperspace traveling to the system where they best might find Aren and the whereabouts of the Sith Holocron. The steady hum of the ship was interrupted by her Master calling out to her. "You haven't said a thing since we left, I hope you aren't letting your thoughts fester." Kale stood from his seat at the pilots chair and walked to sit at a table bolted to the floor.

"Usually my mind would be racing... But not right now. A normal person would be kinda disturbed by all of that, right?" She wiped a smudge of blood off her blaster before holstering it. "I guess I'm really too far gone."

"Some people would kill for that level of stoicism you know." Kale said, half in jest. Lahana frowned and stood up.

"Well, they'd be on the right track at least. I'm going to try and get some sleep." She didn't look back as she went went further back into the ship. As she was laying down on a bed her com device beeped to life. "Why could possibly be cal- oh!" She quickly sat up and answered. "A-Alara?" She said, her voice nearly breaking.

“Hey!” Alara greeted so bubbly that you could almost hear her smile through the comlink. “I was just about to come looking for you at the Jedi Temple, but Zee said you were offworld and moving fast. You’re not on Yavin anymore?”

Clearing the clouds above Yavin’s far-reaching jungles, Rogue Group continued on their course to the New Republic base. Gold Squadron already accelerated ahead to return to their hanger bay. This left the four X-wing pilots to continue speaking alone, without threat of being overheard or spied on. A message was likely given to Wedge if he was in a position to receive it: Rogue Squadron returned home and would land in a few minutes. Enough time for them to finalize how to handle Borsk’s threats, his obtaining of the stolen chip, and to get a better understanding of the word “Sith”--the term they were so desperate to hide from those unauthorized to know.

Alara peered through her canopy window at the Jedi Temple as they flew by. Recalling the scarcity of the library inside, information related to Sith may not be in her favor to obtain. She got away with taking books because of Lahana. Without her, the receptionist’s welcome might be anything except warm.

"N-no. me and Master Kale had to go to this flying entertainment district to find some answers about Aren, he's still missing. The good news is we have a lead, the bad news is that terrorists attacked. I'm fine though..." She refrained from mentioning the piles of bodies that had been created. She really needed to learn how to stop making conversations awkward.

There was a noticeable pause while Alara processed the new information. “…Th-that’s good,” she said shakily, trying to refrain from asking about the terrorist encounter. Remaining on topic was of great importance not to just to her, but to her friends flying ahead. They still debated on what to do among themselves. “I’m glad you’re safe. It’s a good thing you train so hard, huh?”

A low groan could be heard from Zee over their communications, leaving Alara to translate for who he deemed a ‘brute’. “Zee… says hi,” she continued, to which Zee rotated his domed head back and forth in denial of such a blatant lie. “He wants to know if you got the training droid repaired before you left.”

Training, right. Lahana wished it was simply due to her Jedi training. The unnatural calm she had stepping over innocent corpses wasn't something you attained from training. "The droid? I asked someone in maintenance to fix it, so unless they're being a lazy twat it should be in working condition by now..." Lahana leaned her back against the wall and pulled her knees close to her. "Did you... Need something from me?" She asked. She couldn't think of any other reason someone would be calling her.

Three low beeps that Alara would describe as mocking were given in return. She cared enough to alert someone with deft hands and higher intelligence to fix the damage she caused, but not enough to oversee the repair herself. That figures, Zee thought.

Alara didn’t know what a twat was, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It sounded a little more vulgar than the language she got to hear in the occasional pazaak game she watched. It was best she doesn’t ask that question.

“Thank you,” she said happily. With business continuing, her smile faltered. “I did have something I wanted to ask you, actually. My friends and I… we did something pretty questionable, and we agreed not to share details with people outside of our circle. This information we found seemed really important, and there’s only one person any of us knew well enough to trust by asking. We don’t know the Jedi very well outside of the stories, but I knew you, and I trust you not to rat us out.”

Taking a breath, Alara let the trust she was placing in Lahana resonate with her a moment longer before continuing. “We found something out from a secret briefing. That thing on Onderon we couldn’t know about… it was a Holocron, like Zsinj said it was, but the word “Sith” was attached to it. Does that word mean anything to you, or your master?”

Lahana wondered as silence filled the ship's cabin what Alara and her crew could have possibly done. Did they blow up a few too many buildings? Splatter a hostile in front of a sensitive official? As for the trust placed in her, she wasn't sure why Alara bothered. Surely there were better Jedi to talk to... Lahana frowned and looked at the ceiling. Or maybe not, there weren't many of them in the first place.

"Sith? Oh, yeah. Master Kale said that would be bad. The Sith are uhm, evil force users. They've conquered a lot of systems in the past or something. A Sith Holocron could be used to bring them back."

A significant pause followed Lahana’s explanation and only the sound of quiet breathing over the line would tell her that they were still connected. Alara was lining up as much information as she could on her own. The explanation for what Sith were left much to be desired, but maybe that was all they were to Lahana—bad people using the Force to conquer worlds and civilizations. If there was more to them than that, time would be set aside to figure it out.

She returned to reality in time to follow Rogue Group’s sharp turn towards the New Republic base. The others must’ve decided on how to handle the events at Bothawui. She wasn’t hailed and so there was no warning given to return to base and face any reprimands for what happened. Borsk didn’t tell a soul, which meant Wedge must’ve been safe.

That was a weight off her shoulders she’d gladly take, but it only shifted to her head as another question joined endless others.

“Did you know already?” she asked suddenly, becoming unsettled. If word got out about the holocron’s origins while they were gone, that entire mission was a waste of time and a scandal in the making for absolutely nothing. “You don’t seem surprised or hesitant at all about what I just told you. I thought the Jedi didn’t know about this?”

Lahana grumbled something about shoving a thermal detonator up a certain Jedi Master's behind as she adjusted her position on the bed.

"Luke and some idiots in the New Republic were keeping it quiet, we had to learn that it was a Holocron the same way you did. Though Luke didn't know it was Sith. Master Kale thought it might be Sith, but wasn't sure. hrmm. Sorry? I'm not really sure what this even means."

“Luke?” Alara repeated softly; she knew of only one “Luke”, and seeing as Lahana didn’t lump him in with the rest of the “idiots” in the New Republic… “Luke Skywalker? The Luke Skywalker, he knew about it?”

The New Republic keeping secrets from them was new to her, but she would never have thought someone as respectable as Luke Skywalker would hide anything from his students and peers. Whether he knew it was Sith in origin or not, the fact he kept that information from them in the first place perplexed her. It stored knowledge and it sounded harmless. But if what Nareia saw on the chip was true, then the New Republic knew about its origin this entire time.

Were they lying to Luke, too?

“Lahana, we didn’t get this information just by asking for it. If they lied to a living legend like Luke Skywalker about it, then what’s a handful of pilots? They even kept it from Wedge.” Swallowing hard, she cut back her throttle and joined the others in hovering over Yavin’s hangers—specifically Rogue Squadron’s. Nareia dipped low first and slid inside, Rayce following close behind. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. The truth is now in the hands of someone I’m not sure we can trust to do right by it, and we’re struggling to figure out how we’re going to approach this—it can’t remain a secret.”

Kyrin was next to drop altitude and enter the hanger bay; Alara followed, struggling to find faith in the organization she fought and suffered for. Lies, secrets—these were Imperial terms, not something the Alliance used and kept against their own!

Struggling to keep her hands still, she squeezed her eyes shut and fought the growing anxiety rising within her chest. “You said something about a terrorist attack?” Alara asked, opening her eyes in time to rotate her craft and eject her landing gear. Setting it down with finesse, she removed her helmet and set it on her lap as her X-wing powered down—Zee’s doing. “Tell me about it.”

There was that reverence for Luke again. She really didn't get it. "I don't know why the attack happened, they seemed like Imperials, and we were on a stolen Star Destroyer. Revenge I guess? They broke it's main weapon then ran away." Lahana looked down to the saber at her hip. That was all Alara needed to know, wasn't it? She didn't need to know that she'd killed people, that she saw children torn apart.

She tilted her head to the side in thought, Alara seemed conflicted. "This must be why Master Kale doesn't want to be so connected to the Republic. Too much sneaky nonsense, lying. What do you think will happen if you expose the truth? Honestly I don't really care, do it if you want."

Imperials attacking a Star Destroyer to destroy its weaponry made sense to her, but she was moreso curious about what led them to board one in the first place. Lahana explained things in such a way that after answering one question, she found herself with two or more questions to follow it. It was delightfully, laughably frustrating, enough so that she beamed and fought against a laughing fit. She wasn’t very good at telling stories, which could only mean that she didn’t read enough of them. They would have to fix that the next time they both caught a break—if there would ever be.

Her lack of care showed a recklessness that could rival Kyrin. For a moment she wondered what Kale would think about the New Republic’s great lie being kept from their most trusted units, but then she remembered that Lahana already explained it for her. Sneaky nonsense, lying… it was hard to disagree with her, especially now.

Catching sight of the others disembarking their fighters before moving to join one another at the entrance, she caught Nareia’s hand motioning for her attention. A message was mouthed to her—five minutes—before she turned to rejoin the men who moved ahead with purpose. The choice had been made.

“We look at it similarly to you, actually,” she started, peering down at her helmet. She gently ran her fingers across the symbols of the Rebellion—two emblems etched on either side. “If we just don’t care at all, that’s it. It’s done. Everyone knows the truth. But I think the tension among the Senators and High Command on how to move forward is starting to become even more dangerous. By exposing the truth of what was on Onderon to those that weren’t privileged enough to know, they might feel just as betrayed as we did.”

Even among their small unit tension was thick. Kyrin wanted to confront Madine directly for holding out on them in the first place, but not before gathering the men and women he fought and bled with to make today possible and telling them what they found, claiming that everyone had a right to know what’s been going on.

Rayce wanted to discover Borsk’s true goal by hanging on to that chip; political gain maybe, or leverage—neither of which bode well for the New Republic’s crumbling unity. The man vastly overstated the amount of damage Rogue Squadron caused. Furthermore, he specifically wanted them to remain silent on what transpired there. The Senator was up to no good, and they needed to act before that man could.

And Nareia’s indecision, her hesitation, and her fear of what she let slip from her finger weighed heavily on her heart. She debated on confessing to what happened and sided with Rayce’s point of view. Rallying the fighting forces of the New Republic against their superiors would only inspire the dissent and panic that their enemies would capitalize on. It would weaken Borsk’s attempt to seize whatever he wanted but would vastly cripple the New Republic’s dying morale even further.

“I care about my friends and the Alliance, and I think we did deserve to know what secret they kept from us,” she confessed with a melancholic tone. “I want to believe that it won’t be so bad if we talk to the Senators and Command. Maybe we’re overreacting. Maybe we’re overthinking it and all this anxiousness, this fear, this anger… it’s just all in our head. But the more I tell myself that everything can become normal again, the more I’m unwilling to believe my own lie, because a lie is what got us to this point. And if we lie and pretend that everything is okay for our own benefit, we’re no better than the people we have to confront.”

If Sith were the evil, world-conquering foes that Lahana described them as, then trying to obtain knowledge from their methods would cause an outcry among anyone still decent and good in the New Republic. The best they could hope for was that not everyone knew about this. Otherwise the Alliance she fought for might be truly dead. Some things were too dangerous to learn, and even more dangerous to apply and practice.

“I might need to borrow some of your strength, Lahana.” Alara sat up in her seat and reached for the button that opened her canopy; at the same time, she worked on getting Zee unmounted by flagging down an engineer getting their ships refueled and examined. The retractable ladder extended from her ship. Their time was nearly up. “I’m… scared, but I don’t want the others to know. I fly well, and I shoot better, but I’m not fearless like they can be.”

"Borrow my strength." Lahana repeated, her voice quiet. "At least you're asking." Lahana realized something as she listened to Alara speak. Her voice ticked her off. What was frustrating was that she couldn't explain why. She sounded like a normal young woman, she wasn't shrill or loud. She was simply laying bare her feelings, without a doubt in her mind Lahana could now say that Alara was a good person. The only thing Lahana knew of politics was that it never helped her, it was a murky bog that she didn't want to enter. Yet Alara was willing to face those in power if need be. She was a good person, so why?

"Hey Lana, what do you want to do when we get out of here?" A voice from nowhere bounced inside of her head. She flinched and drew her knees closer towards her chest. That's right, Alara sounded a lot like her. Both her voice and words were disturbingly nostalgic.

"Please don't rely on me... You'll regret it."

Zee’s removal from his socket in the X-wing overtook the latter portion of what Lahana spoke. Alara waved thanks to the engineer responsible for helping lower him to the ground, saving her the time she would spend having to do so. The others were surely getting restless by now. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t stalling. Lahana’s courage was still taking its time reaching her.

“What was that?” Alara asked over the sound of the mechanical arm delicately lowering Zee to the ground. “I didn’t catch that last part.”

"Um, I uh, said good luck. I hope things work out." Lahana was a terrible liar, though she was typically so awkward she probably sounded like she always did.

“…Me, too.” Alara said, a sliver of hope in her tone. “Thank you.”

With a hesitant flip of a switch in her cockpit, the comm channel was cut. She rose from her seat and set her helmet behind her, then descended the ladder to rejoin the others. Strength was in her step and for the first time since leaving Bothawui her head was kept high.

~-~


The trio of pilots waiting at the mouth of the hangar turned to look at her as she approached. Inclining her head apologetically, Kyrin waved it away while Nareia reached for her comlink. Before she could turn it on, Rayce tapped her arm and jerked his head towards Alara again.

“Info first. We have to know what we’re talking about before we contact Wedge,” he said carefully, trying not to step on her toes. “I know, time and all that, but if we’re not being bombarded by military officials that’s a good sign, right?”

“For now,” Nareia replied quietly before crossing her arm over her chest and looking over her shoulder, trying to spot anything unusual heading their way. No such thing. “Remember when I said we’d laugh about paranoia once we left Bothawui?”

“Nah, be paranoid. Use that,” Kyrin suggested, offering her a nod of reassurance before each of them looked to Alara. “What’d your pal tell you?”

“Sith are bad, world-conquering Force users and whatever is on that holocron might bring about their return. And apparently—”

Borrowing from Lahana’s reservoir of courage meant there would be no more hesitance in giving information that everyone would need. She agreed with Kyrin on one thing, and it was that the people who fought and bled for this New Republic should know the stakes at all times—even if it frightened them like it did her. She spoke firmly, an unwavering gaze given to all three as she recounted everything Lahana told her in so short a time. The search for Aren, while irrelevant to them, was also mentioned partly due to the terrorism Lahana and her master experienced.

All three were momentarily stunned into silence once that verbal sprint came to a halt. They looked among each other as if to make certain they all heard correctly.

“Luke didn’t know?” Rayce asked, to which Alara nodded at him with pursed lips. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, fighting his skepticism. “If they’re willing to lie to him, then we truly aren’t any different, not even Wedge.”

“Why access something by these people?” Nareia asked aloud, looking to each of them. “They knew what it was, the details on that chip confirmed that they already knew its origins. Why did they need something from conquerors?”

“They want to win, and they don’t care how they do it.” Kyrin half-shrugged, taking this far better than the rest of his companions. “I’m not into religions and all that, but when you’re desperate you’ll say and do anything to see tomorrow. Nothing good would come from world-conquering evil Force people, not unless you want to take over the galaxy yourself.”

“The New Republic wants to unite the galaxy, not conquer it,” Nareia argued.

Kyrin directed his stare to her and held it. “The Rebel Alliance wanted that,” he argued back. “A return to democracy and all things good and fair, and we fought to end the Empire that took that away to beat and starve everyone who didn’t fall in line. And if that didn’t work, just enslave them.”

“What are you getting at?” Rayce asked.

“What I’m getting at is that this isn’t the same organization as before. We’re not the underdogs anymore. We’re on top, and the powers that be are wanting to keep it that way, even if it means lying to the people who got you here.” Between Rayce and Nareia, Kyrin wasn’t sure who needed to hear that more. Something bad was happening to the organization they fought for, and if they didn’t course correct soon, they’d be no better than the Empire they all hated for one reason or another.

“Borsk is a problem but he’s not the only problem we’ve got,” Rayce muttered, to which Kyrin nodded. “I get it. But he’s the problem we can deal with right now, and if he’s as well connected as he says he is then we need to act before he does. We have a plan for both outcomes.”

“What about that threat he made, the one about demoting Nareia?” Alara entered the conversation again, stepping forward and looking to each of them with a ray of determination glistening in her eyes. “We’re not letting them do it, are we?”

“Of course not,” Kyrin scoffed; the idea of Borsk telling any of them what to do anywhere off Bothawui was a good joke. “And even if he does ground her, none of us are flying without her. So, if he wants to deprive the New Republic of one of its best pilots, he’s losing the rest of them. Gold, Blue, Gray—doesn’t matter. She’s got the pull here, not Borsk.”

“That’s not my call,” Nareia reminded Kyrin and the others. The lengths they were willing to go for her brought a smile to her face. She feared that their passions might hurt the New Republic more than Borsk, but that was a risk they each seemed willing to take. “And I’ll also remind each of you to fly for the right cause if you’re called up. I’m the only one who should take the fall for this. Not any of you, and not Wedge.”

“Wedge ought to agree with us,” Rayce said. “And take the fall if he has to. A good leader looks after his own.”

“Guess we’re gonna find out.” Kyrin tapped Nareia’s shoulders with his knuckles and nodded towards the base. “Let’s get going.”

The quintet stepped out of the hangar’s mouth and into the rays of Yavin IV’s sun. Nareia drew her comlink and turned it on, making sure the frequency was returned to Rogue Squadron’s personal channel, and spoke.

“Wedge? It’s Nareia. We’re back, and we’ve got a lot to discuss with you.”


The Chase Through Bothawui

collab w/ @Honesty Crow





The split-second look at a pistol pointed in her direction made Nareia withdraw inside, narrowly avoiding the bolt that connected against the doorway. Inhaling sharply, she peered out again and leveled her pistol towards the Quarren’s back, then discovered that they were no longer fleeing on foot but hovering off the ground. Her finger froze on the trigger, and she then opened the door entirely before running outside to try and spot some kind of dropship—anything that could pick them up and provide them a hasty exit.

All she saw was the forest they started retreating further into, followed by the explosion of several X-wings from the corner of her eye. The only X-wing to avoid destruction was her own, which hovered over to her with the ladder and landing gear still extended; Peethree went to her instead, a shrill whistle of alarm heard over the roar of her own engine.

Thinking fast, Nareia looked back towards the forest before glancing at the idle speeders left close by. They sabotaged the X-wings belonging to Zaid as well as the turbo lasers, but the speeders appeared unscathed.

“Peethree, follow my signal over the forest!” she yelled, stowing her DL-44 and retrieving her comlink once again as she hustled to one of the speeders. Hurriedly examining the chassis, no evidence of tampering or sabotage was found. Still, she couldn’t believe she was about to do this. “I’ll follow them from the ground.” Nareia waved her companion away. “Stay with me, then get to the place the others—”

She cut herself short, nearly forgetting they were attempting to rendezvous here. Mounting the speeder and withdrawing her comlink once again, she took the controls with one hand and shifted forward; with a lurch she was off and Peethree followed above the treeline, returning the landing gear and ladder within the ship.

“Rogue Group, stay on the ground!” she yelled into the comlink, following the group of three—no, four as they flew through the forest. The Zabrak, of course. “Does anyone read me!?”

“We read you,”Rayce replied loudly.“We haven’t lifted off yet, are you positive?”

“Yes, they didn’t take any of the ships like I suspected they would, and everything Zaid had in security is disabled or destroyed. I think these men are heading for the capital!” Nareia roared over the rushing wind as she blew past countless trees, ducking and dodging as necessary while attempting to keep pace with the four men. “Gold Group needs to get airborne and circle the city; I don’t know where they’re going but I want ships up just in case they have a shuttle to escape in!”

“They’re on the move,” Rayce said, waving off Gold Leader and the other Y-wings. He could be heard powering down his own X-wing and it could be assumed that Kyrin and Alara were doing the same. “What do you need from us!?”

“I’m on a speeder bike following them, but I can’t shoot and give you orders right now, so listen carefully: one of you needs to alert whatever counts as Drev’starn’s security forces to four criminals who robbed Zaid and stole something vital to the New Republic. The other two need to rendezvous with me and prepare for a fight, I don’t think they’ll hand the chip back peacefully!”

“Understood, Kyrin and I will find you,”Rayce assured her, exchanging looks with the gunslinger who retrieved two pistols from his cockpit before moving to exit his nearby ship. Alara ejected Zee from his slot on her vessel and hovered to the ground with twin rockets emerging from his ‘legs’. As for him, he grabbed the S-5 heavy blaster from his ship’s compartment before exiting it.

“What do they look like?”

Nareia thought back to their races. She didn’t ignore the pile of clothing they left behind after leaving the compound, but she didn’t get a good enough look at their newer getups to properly describe them. And judging from an emptied case left on the ground not far from them, they might’ve rearmed with heavier, stronger weaponry.

“I can’t give you clothing, but I can give you their race: A Twilek with—” Nareia described the tone of his skin “—a Quarren with—” his skin tone was also described “—a Zabrak with—” skin tone and hair—if any—were mentioned like the others “—and a furry one, not too different from a Bothan, but more wolfish.”

“Shistavanen!” Alara quickly surmised over her comlink, hustling out of the hangar with an energetic Zee rolling right behind her. “Twi’lek, Quarren, Zabrak, Shistavanen!” She announced loud and clear for the others. “I’ll find people to alert. Everyone, please be careful!”

“Understood!” Rayce said, hustling after Kyrin towards the city entrance that was closest to the compound. “Nareia, we’re gonna try to cut them off. Keep your head down and keep pushing them towards us if you can!”

“Already on it!” Working the comlink back into her pocket, she could now assume more control of the speeder bike without crashing. Accelerating after the group of four, she released several shots behind the group that were to be narrow misses. In truth, all she wanted to do was encourage them to run until the others could try and cut them off. And failing that, if Drev’starn’s security was made aware of what went on, they would be able to help the New Republic apprehend the thieves.

Alara, Rayce and Kyrin didn't take too long to get to one of the city gates. The city was bustling with people, the majority of which were Bothans. Unfortunately for the trio, spotting the runaways with their skin color and race alone would prove difficult. There were aliens all over the place here and it didn't help that the streets were filled with speeders. Right by the entrance were two Bothan guards being entertained by a couple of Bith street musicians. Next to them was a small crowd of Bothans and other aliens enjoying show. While the cops didn't look 'reputable', it was their best shot at alerting the Bothans.

Meanwhile, Nareia had to put a stop to her speeder as soon as she hit the first entrance. The streets were filled with speeder cars, occupying most of the roads. She saw as the trio cut in between the vehicles and split up once they hit the first intersection. Things had now gotten worse. From her position, two of them, the blue Twi'lek and the Shistavanen had gone left toward a series of towers in the distance while the Quarren and the Zabrak continued toward the center of the city.

“Hey, hey!” Alara shouted over the Bith musician’s rousing performance. She stopped directly in front of the Bothan guards with Rayce and Kyrin beside her, weapons and comlink at the ready. “We need your help. A gang of criminals is on the loose. They’re—”

With precise detail provided to her by Nareia just a minute prior to now, Alara perfectly described not only the race of the assailants, but also the tone of skin each had. A firm mention of Zaid being attacked was given; if the guards didn’t care about the struggles of human visitors, maybe they would care about one of their own being attacked by this gang.

Kyrin watched the guards with a keen eye while Rayce continued to communicate with Nareia close by.

The guards listened, though reluctantly. One of them spoke up the moment Alara finished talking. He wasn't all too pleased that these three humans had interrupted his entertainment.

"Right." He replied, a smile forming on his face. "And I'm the Queen of Naboo. Listen, girl if the Vas'Ah's got robbed, whoever did it is going to have bounty hunters up their ass for the rest of their lives. If you're smart, you'll let this go. Now, if you excuse us, we were enjoying our break." The Bothan security guards moved around Rebel pilots to find a spot as the Bith musicians began to play another number. At that moment, Alara caught the form of a Shistavanen and a Twi'Lek running across the nearby intersection. Both of them matched the description Nareia had given them.

Dumbfounded, Alara tried to say something, anything that would convince these men that Zaid Vas’ah was indeed attacked in his own home. Nothing—not a care in the world, those guards disregarded them without a second thought. “But—”

“Forget them,” Kyrin said firmly, glaring at the men as they passed. “They make the same credits standing around doing nothing as they would doing their jobs. It’s up to us.”

“They split up,”Rayce announced; in the direction Alara was looking in, Rayce caught sight of two men—a Twi’lek and Shistavanen— running by. They were exactly as Nareia described, and in the exact same pair she mentioned them splitting up into. “There!”

Focusing up again, Kyrin nudged Rayce before starting to sprint after them. “Get the other two, I got them!” Before Rayce could argue that going alone was a bad idea, Kyrin was already on their tail.

“Wh-what should I do?” Alara asked nervously. “I-I don’t have a pistol.”

“Find other guards, better ones!” Rayce said hurriedly, giving Alara a nod of support before turning around and moving to cut off the Quarren and Zabrak before Nareia engaged them.

When the Rebel pilots left the guard's side, one of them turned to watch them leave. He gave his companion a knowing gaze and he reached for a commlink in his belt.

"Omega, the runners are being chased by interlopers." The Bothan said, making sure his voice was drowned out by the music and the sounds of the speeders behind him. "They look like Rebel pilots."

"Good to know." A male voice said on the other side. "Inform the Senator. He'll want to know about this."

"Understood." The two Bothans nodded at each other and sprinted across the street to their own speeder. Turning on a pair of sirens, they sped down the street toward the center of town.

Meanwhile, Kyrin began to catch up to the Shistavanen who was the slower of the two. The moment the wolf-like alien saw Rayce he turned and crossed the street trying to avoid being caught in between the two pilots, however when he crossed a speeder ran him over sending the beast into the air and down to the ground with a loud thud. The Twi'lek took the chance and ran into the city center's market. Kyrin saw as the Twi'lek began to push through the crowd. In between the vendor kiosks and tents he spotted the recognizable sigh of a spaceport in the distance. The group was heading toward the city's spaceport for sure. They probably had a ship on standby.

All those years running in Nar Shaddaa’s streets made keeping pace with the aliens in a crowded environment easier. Kyrin weaved between people without stumbling, and to those that couldn’t be maneuvered by he simply barreled past with both blasters visible in hand; if they wanted to complain, they’d best think twice.

As expected, they tried splitting up again. Kyrin closed in on the slower of the two, the Shistavanen, and raised his left blaster to take him out of the picture before he lost sight of the Twi’lek entirely. A speeder barreling by knocked the man airborne and he landed painfully hard. If nothing was broken, then surely something was bruised. He shouldn’t be getting up after that kind of a hit, but just in case…

Leveling his blaster to the fallen man’s nearest thigh, Kyrin loosed two blaster bolts into the exact same spot. Whether he was still conscious or not, the gunslinger didn’t much care. But if the Twi’lek wouldn’t wise up, they needed at least one of these punks alive long enough to question.

Satisfied, Kyrin continued his sprint into the marketplace. Following the curious and startled gazes of the Bothan people, he caught the Twi’leks back just as the spaceport came into view.

He raised his right blaster, took aim at the Twi’lek’s back, and—when absolutely certain he wouldn’t hurt those he ran past—fired a single shot. Not enough to kill him, but enough to make him panic, stumble, and be more likely to give it up while he still could.

The Twi'lek shrieked as the blaster bolt hit him in the back. Aliens and Bothans who were around panicked as soon as they heard the gunshots. It made the crowd scatter in random directions, leaving Kyrin and the injured Twi'lek alone. When Kyrin approached, the Twi'lek turned himself over to look at the man who had shot him.

"You're too late..." He said, panting. "You are picking on an enemy you can't hope to defeat!"

“This enemy have a name?” Kyrin asked the fallen Twi’lek. He stowed his left blaster and crouched beside him, pressing the barrel of his other blaster to his nearest lekku. He patted him down with precision, searching for any hidden pockets in his clothing that might have information that not even the threat of torture would bring him to reveal. “Or are they cowards just like you and your buddy back there?”

He was thorough; if there was something—anything—that might be hidden on this Twi’lek, his gang experience in the past might enable him to find it.

Kyrin found nothing of note other than his dual blasters and a commlink. Before Kyrin could question him further, he heard a loud crunching sound and before he knew it, the Twi'lek was having a seizure and foaming at the mouth. A crowd of concerned onlookers stared at Kyrin and the dying Twi'lek, while some reached for their own commlinks and called the police. Kyrin began to hear sirens in the distance. It was best he link up with the others before the Bothan cops caught up with them.

Kyrin sucked in air between his teeth and shook his head in disappointment. He heard the crunch in his mouth, then stood up with the Twi’lek’s comlink in hand. Suicide—and not the way he’d ever want to go out.

“That answers my question,” he muttered, examining the comlink. “Cowards working for bigger cowards.”

Moving his way past the growing crowd, he hustled back to where he remembered leaving the Shistavanen. It was good to be thorough before he called this in.

When Kyrin arrived, the street had been cordoned off by Bothan security. There armed guards and three police speeders blocking off the road. From where he stood, he could see the Shistavanen's corpse. Same cause of death. Suicide. Standing on the street were more than a dozen cops, armed and armored, seemingly ready for a fight. Lucky for him a crowd had gathered to watch and they were able to hide him from the officers on the street.

The Bothans responded fast when they were motivated, Kyrin thought. He looked past the many shoulders ahead of him, catching sight of the Shistavanen lying dead; some foam was at the mouth, the same as his buddy who was likely still twitching back in the marketplace. The smoke from his thigh wound hadn’t even stopped smoking yet.

Fingering the comlink he lifted from the Twi’lek, he backed away from the crowd and holstered his pistol before starting to hustle back the way he came. He flicked it on.

“Not sure if you third party scumbags can hear me, but your friends are dead. The second I see you, either start getting chatty or start foaming at the mouth like they did. I’m on my way.”

He cut it off and stowed it away, retrieving the comlink shared between Rogue Group and Gold Squadron’s frequency. “The Twi’lek and the Shista dropped dead from suicide. Where are you two?”

On the other side of the city, nearing the spaceport, Nareia and Rayce had caught up to the Zabrak and Quarren. These two were remarkably faster than their counterparts. As they ran, they used their repulsorlift shoes to float over obstacle and stay ahead. The two Rebel pilots were able to catch up them as soon as the guys they were chasing started running on their feet alone. However, by then it was probably too late. They were going to have to catch them before they got to their ship. Going inside the spaceport, Nareia and Rayce had to jump over crates and pass by engineers and pilots working on their ships. As they ran deeper inside the complex, they started hearing sirens behind them and soon, as group of Bothan security was chasing them down.

The spaceport building was large enough to accomodate more than a hundred vessels. It was laid out to give ships and pilots their own small hangar while leaving a large space in the middle to accomodate cargo and small speeders. At one point, the Zabrak and the Quarren split up. They both took cover behind crates and opened fire on the pilots with their own guns. Not too far ahead, the Bothan security agents were starting to catch up, effectively pinning them in between the two.

“In the spaceport and taking fire!” Nareia cried over her comlink as she retreated behind a nearby wall, Rayce huddling up against a crate adjacent to her and hunkering down. Blaster bolts peppered his cover, forcing him to keep his head down. Nareia peered out to get a better look at the enemy’s new positioning, then retreated her head as a bolt hit her cover. “Follow the sound of blaster fire,” she continued, looking back to see a group of Bothans on their way towards them. Multiple sirens blared in the distance. “And sirens, too.”

“I’m on my way!” Kyrin said through pants and frustrated grunts just before the signal on his end closed.

“We need to get the Quarren!” Rayce told her, risking a peek around the corner of his crate and sending a few green bolts towards the Zabrak and his chosen cover. Nareia followed up by loosing shots at the Quarren behind his own, red bolts colliding against his crate to keep the pressure up. “And we don’t have time to explain ourselves to the security forces!”

“I know!” Nareia ducked low and darted from her cover behind a wall towards another crate, moving just past Rayce and advancing as closely as possible to their adversaries. “I don’t think they plan to surrender, so negotiating isn’t going to be an option!”

“And we can’t wait for Kyrin to get here,” Rayce quickly pointed out; he followed after Nareia, exchanging fire between both the Quarren and the Zabrak before shuffling behind another set of conveniently placed crates. Spaceport personnel must’ve panicked from all the commotion and scattered these miscellaneous crates about. “Cover me!”

“Go!”

Nareia peeked over her crate and fired both wildly and unpredictably at both sets of cover in the hopes of keeping the aliens pinned. As she attempted this, Rayce maneuvered around his cover and crouch-walked past her, attempting to get as close as he could beyond the Quarren’s chosen place of cover and take a shot.

More than a dozen Bothan security officers swarmed the spaceport, forcing many there to either flee and seek cover. From where Nareia and Rayce were sitting, they spotted another group of officers coming from behind them. They cops were pinning the two groups down. Soon, there were police drones floating above them recording their every move. Deploying shields, the guards took defensive positions, aiming weapons at both groups.

"This is the Metropolitan Guard! Put your weapons down or we will open fire!" Yelled one of their commanders. The Quarren and the Zabrak looked at each other and placed their weapons on the floor raising their hands in sign of surrender.

Surrounded just as Rayce was moving in position to take the shot, Nareia ceased fire as the announcement was made. The Bothans should understand her side of the story; if Alara was good at anything, it was retelling things she’s read or heard before. With her blaster growing uncomfortably hot and the stress of the situation making her sweat, she didn’t surrender her position until she noticed the third party emerging from their hiding places with hands up and weapons lowered.

She peered at Rayce who peered right back at her. They nodded and did as asked; Nareia’s DL-44 rest on the crate she took cover behind, while Rayce’s S-5 was lowered beside his right foot. Their hands were up, and they would comply.

Behind them, Alara and Zee managed to catch up to the rest of the Bothan security forces and stood by. Kyrin hustled up beside her and quickly read the room, holstering his blaster once witnessing Nareia and Rayce apprehended.

Bothans, wearing armor and shock batons tackled the Quarren and the Zabrak to the ground and did the same for Nareia and Rayce. At that moment, the police line broke and in between the officers emerged Bothan Senator Borrsk Fey'lya along with his security detail. He looked furious. The old Bothan marched toward Nareia and Rayce, recognizing them instantly.

"You!" He shouted, walking up to them with a raised accusatory digit. "What in the world were you thinking!? Who's mission was this? I want to know who caused this... chaos in MY city! Speak!"

Nareia’s eyes lit up, recognizing the old Bothan from Senate meetings on Yavin IV. Choosing to let go of the fact she was tackled with gritted teeth behind her lips, she kept her squirming to a minimum. Rayce knew the drill when it came to a security force just trying to do their job; he wouldn’t complain about their protocols, aggressive as they might be.

“Our mission—my mission—was to get information that only Zaid Vas’ah could give us. It was from a chip with security measures I believed no one else could bypass. It was going well until those two assaulted Zaid and fled with the chip,” she said earnestly, then nodded over her shoulder towards the aliens not too far off. “One of them should still possess the chip on their person. That information is of great importance to the New Republic, Senator Fey’lya. Neither of us wanted it to come to this, I assure you, but they left us no choice.”

Rayce struggled to nod in agreement over the many bodies on top of him.

Fay'lya's right ear twitched as he walked over to the aliens across from the them. "Do you think I'm stupid, pilot?" The Bothan Senator drew a pistol from one of his nearby bodyguards and proceeded to shoot the two alien criminals in the head. Returning the weapon to his bodyguard he ordered the officers to search the bodies until they produced the chip. It didn't take long for one of the cops to find it tucked away in a hidden pocked inside the Quarren's coat. Taking it, Fay'lya inspected it and walked back to the pilots.

"Now, without insulting my intelligence. You are going to tell me what is in this chip. Don't test my patience." Said Fay'lya, glaring at both Nareia and Rayce. He was becoming more agitated by the minute. Not only had these two created chaos and panic in Drev'starn but also dared to lie to his face.

Nareia flinched after the execution was done. Quick, efficient, and seemingly without any remorse; Fey’lya spoke to Rayce and herself as if he didn’t just end two lives in half a second. His glare intimidated her, for a moment forgetting that he was on the side of the New Republic. Judging by how his men still kept them pinned to the ground, he had a funny way of showing his allegiance to them. She wanted answers from those men. Too late for that.

Her eyes wavered from his own and rest on the chip in hand. The contents of it were only a debrief, but it suggested something conniving and dishonest—the values opposite of what the New Republic should stand for. What they hid from the men and women who went to try and save it, what Kale and his apprentice were kept in the dark about, it almost made her retch to speak the New Republic’s deceit into existence.

It occurred to her that the mission to Onderon was from the top, going far above Madine to those in the Senate—a Senate that Fey’lya belonged to. She eyed him with suspicion. Overthinking things was becoming a new hobby of hers. If he knew already, telling the truth here would only confirm his suspicion of them. But if she was wrong, if he didn’t know the exact details of the mission on Onderon, then he would have reason to approach the Senate and bring this to light. The fracture would grow if not split the New Republic’s leadership completely. If Wedge told the truth before she left, coming to blows would be the best outcome for them all.

“Senator Fey’lya,” she said quietly, just audible enough so that he might hear it. There was no getting out of this without giving him something. Neither answer bode well for the New Republic’s crumbling foundation. “I came here after taking that chip with men and women I trusted to get some answers. What’s on that chip suggests something very awful behind the Onderon operation.” She swallowed dryly. “Let me return to Yavin IV in your custody. Allow me to confess to my actions here, take full responsibility for any damage and trauma I may have caused to your people, indirectly or not, and I will tell you what I saw… with the Senate present, if I may.”

It wasn’t what the Senator wanted, but it was something at least. Her only wish was to protect her friends and try to keep this New Republic from breaking apart any further. Whether Fey’lya would agree to these terms or not didn’t matter; he had the option of returning to Zaid’s compound himself and demanding the stunned codebreaker to access it again. He knew this, as did she. The threat of imprisonment didn’t frighten her as much as the Alliance crumbling.

Either all of them knew, a select few, or just one in particular. Both Mon Mothma and General Iblis came to mind. One of them didn’t know about this, she was almost positive.

The older Bothan scoffed at the suggestion, stuffing the chip in the pocket of his expensive silk trousers.

"What you and your friends are going to do is keep your mouth shut. I will handle this. You have caused enough destruction and chaos already. There is no need for you and your band of misfit humans to cause even more damage." Fey'lya spat those words out with disgust. He truly was still angry over what had happened in the city and was holding back from outright executing the pilots. No, he was better than that. They were necessary assets and useful tools when the time came.

He commanded the guards to release them and Nareia and Rayce were promptly freed by the Bothan guards.

"I'm sure you can make up a cover story over why you were out here. And, I don't think I need to warn you over double-crossing me, pilot. I have a great many contacts and friends in the Republic. People who can ensure that you and your friends are demoted to lowly janitors." With a smug smile, he dismissed him with his hand. "Go on. Get out of my city"

Rayce was the first to return to his feet and approach a stunned Nareia, holding out his hand for her; after a pause, she took it and rose. The two exchanged mixed expressions, worry and suspicion the most discernable, but understood the situation enough to know that arguing with a testy Fey’lya wasn’t beneficial to anyone.

Nareia broke her stare with Rayce and nodded at Fey’lya. “Thank you, Senator,” she said softly, allowing his threat of demoting them to remain unchallenged. “We’ll take our leave.”

She kept her head down and retrieved her weapon in silence, noting that Rayce already retrieved his. Holstering it, she stepped past the Senator and his entourage while attempting to appear as meek and intimidated as possible. Past the furred faces and scowls of armed guards looking for any reason to tackle her to the ground again, she caught Kyrin’s hand easing away from his blaster just as the watchful guards begun turning towards him.

Alara’s dark eyes darted from Nareia to the Senator. “Wa—” A firm hand shot to her shoulder and squeezed; she turned and followed it to Kyrin’s look of warning before he brought his entire arm around her.

“Not right now,” he warned through his teeth. Nareia and Rayce gestured in the direction of their hanger bay, and he followed with Alara still wrapped in his arm. An anxious warble left Zee before he rotated and joined the others. “There’s a time and place for this and it’s not here,” he whispered. “You get me?”

“Right…” Alara muttered back with flushed cheeks. No wonder everyone was so silent. “Sorry.”

“You’ll learn.” Patting her back, Kyrin released his grip around her and glanced back at Zee strolling behind them. Through his peripheral vision he spotted a handful of Bothans keeping step; a wide berth was given, but their watchful eyes wouldn’t miss it if they turned another corner and remained on Bothawui. “Keep up, shorty. We’re outta here.”

Chirping nervously, Zee accelerated past each Rogue and took the lead in getting them back to their hanger bay. The Bothans behind them dispersed and returned to their stations once confirmation that they returned to their hanger was given. But even then, Alara noted, no one seemed any more comfortable than before. They quickly and quietly looked their ships over, checking with their R2 units to see if anyone had come inside while they were gone. Each unit said the same thing: no one had come, all was as they left it.

After getting Zee remounted on Alara’s X-wings, the Rogues lifted off one by one. It was only when they cleared Drev’starn and reunited with Gold Leader and the rest of the Y-wings outside the city limits did tension start to lift from their shoulders. Something about Borsk rubbed each of them the wrong way.

They were about four klicks out from Drev’starn when Nareia pitched her X-wing up, with the Rogues and Gold Squadron rising up after her.

“Sorry to waste your time Gold Leader,” Nareia started soberly. “Nothing down there went as I thought it would. None of it. It’s best you know as little as possible about what went on just in case this comes back to bite me. I hope you understand.”

To her relief, Gold Leader understood the circumstances; while he wouldn’t know about the Senator and the loss of the chip right away, something told her that Borsk would make it known when it best suited him. They could all be coming home to more than a disheartened Wedge. She’d rather be on janitorial duty than face him right now.

A notification for a private channel was received which she promptly accepted. “Private channel, go ahead.”

“We can all agree that Senator Fey’lya killing those two was strange, can’t we?” Rayce asked; in saying “we”, Nareia inferred that she was speaking with only the Rogues. Honoring her request, Rayce wouldn’t include the bomber unit in the conversation. “They surrendered just like we did. He could have gotten something out of them, only he didn’t try. Why?”

“Before we get into that,” Kyrin interjected, “the other two died foaming at the mouth and shaking before I could get anything out of them. They were willing to die for whoever sent them in—something about an enemy we can’t hope to defeat. Cryptic stuff.”

“You said suicide earlier, right?” Rayce asked.

“Yeah, nasty business.” Kyrin shrugged in his seat. “Could just be Zann or Black Sun having a new policy on failure.”

“What makes you think either of them are behind it?” Nareia questioned. She had a different theory entirely, but it pained her to even consider it to be true. “We know the Empire isn’t a big fan of diversity, but how could either of those pirates know about the chip and be there precisely when I was to nab it?”

The atmosphere of Bothawui left behind them, the openness of space was laid bare. Coordinates for lightspeed were keyed as they left the gravity well. The return to Yavin wouldn’t be so quiet this time, Nareia believed, as she very much wanted to hear everything her friends gathered for themselves.

She spoke about what she saw on the ground; the scowling Zabrak, the scores of men surrounding Zaid, and the moment her host was betrayed and left unconscious. They each entered hyperspace as the explanation was given. Theories and suspicions continued to formulate and grow.

“I think Borsk was behind it,” Nareia said at last, bringing life to her treacherous thoughts. “Those men cleared the way for an aerial retrieval, but they ran back to the city—to the spaceport, with all those people around. Kyrin, you said the other two took their own lives?”

“Yeah…” Kyrin muttered thoughtfully. “I don’t think they were in the mood to talk.”

“Because Kyrin got them first,” Rayce continued, just as speculative. “But the other two were happy to put their weapons down.”

“Because they were comfortable enough to throw down their weapons surrounded by the city’s lawmen, but not Kyrin, not someone they knew they couldn’t sway… or couldn’t count on to get them out of that jam.”

She knew it was a reach but a damn good one. Unless, of course, this incident was absolutely rife of coincidences. Coincidentally only two could take their lives, coincidentally the two that remained were more than happy to talk. Or maybe, just maybe, they weren’t running to escape, only to buy time for Fey’lya to intervene so they might hand the chip off. They didn’t suspect him of a double-cross, which led to the only payment Fey’lya ever intended to give them: a swift death.

“An enemy we can’t hope to defeat…” said a monotone voice. Alara spoke up for the first time since leaving Drev’starn’s spaceport, her tone low and absentminded. Processing all the information given to her like a droid, she blankly stared at the blue hue of hyperspace beyond the X-wings ahead. “Senator Fey’lya kept the chip… an enemy we can’t hope to defeat…keep your mouth shut, I will handle this—”

“Alara?”

“I don’t think it’s him.” Emerging from her trance, Alara exhaled as though she held her breath for an entire minute. She couldn’t deny that everything pointed towards Senator Fey’lya, but Kyrin’s encounter with the Twi’lek—the final words he gave him—pointed to something they may never have seen before. “I think that…” she trailed off.

After several seconds of silence, Rayce cut in. “Go on, what’ve you got?”

Alara swallowed. “I… I just think that Senator Fey’lya could be using the outrage to make a political move. He took the chip from that man and kept it, and he didn’t want us to talk. He might use the information on that chip to devastate the Senate. It’s not just about what we did, it’s what he can do with that information. And—and the part about having contacts and friends…”

“What?” Kyrin asked.

“Did Wedge get seen taking that chip?” Alara asked aloud. “Contacts and friends in the New Republic… what if… what if Senator Fey’lya isn’t the only one with contacts and friends in the New Republic?”

“You think we’ve got a leak?” Kyrin asked. “Credits talk, but the guy I chased—”

“He believed in the power of whoever sent him, not the credits,” Alara countered. “At least I think so. Senator Fey’lya is probably going to act on what happened with the Senate, that’s why he didn’t want Nareia to talk first. But I think there’s a third party here we might not be considering.”

“And you don’t think it’s Zann or Black Sun?”

“No… maybe, I’m not sure,” Alara shook her head. “Nareia, that word associated with the Holocron. What was it?”

“Sith,” she responded. The name alone made her shiver just saying it. “The holocron was related to this “Sith” thing, or people. Do you recognize it?”

Another several seconds of silence followed. “Alara?”

“Sorry,” Alara said, in the same monotone voice she did before. “I think I remember it from a book, but I need to be sure. I need to speak to someone when we get home.”

“A Jedi?”

“And a new friend.”
Meeting Zaid Vas'ah

collab w/ @Honesty Crow





Zaid's estate had been built in the forests near the planet's capital of Drev'Starn. It was a compound composed of several buildings with a central house in the middle. A space port sat at very edge of the compound within the walls, with a squad of about eight X-Wings. Defending the compound were two heavy turbolaser towers positioned to the sides of the main house.

The moment elements of Rogue Squadron and Gold Squadron approached the compound, all the ships were contacted by a voice over their radios,

"You are entering restricted airspace. State your intentions or be fired upon." The voice sounded robotic and monotone. Probably belonging to one of those IG-series assassin droids.

“We’re closing in on the coordinates,” Nareia announced, putting an end to all immediate chatter on comms. She could make out several buildings enclosed behind large walls, and as they drew closer noticed two turbolaser towers beside the central building. “Our contact isn’t defenseless. Shields up, just in case this goes south.”

Rogue Group doublechecked that their shields were set to full and adjusted course behind Nareia, who veered several feet higher before beginning to encircle the compound. Tilting their ships just enough to keep it in sight at all times, they each started to examine the compound thoroughly. Not a moment later, Nareia’s eyes found familiar ships resting on a landing pad, far from the rest of the buildings.

“Anyone else see that, on the landing pad?” Rayce asked, blinking to make certain his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “He’s got X-wings. Why?”

“I think you mean how,” Kyrin corrected, contemplating opening his S-foils. “Either he stole them, or there’s an entire unit of New Republic Pilots down there that we don’t know about. I don’t like either of those answers.”

“What if he purchased them directly from Incom?” Alara meekly chose to ask, trying to find the less accusatory answer to all this. “We shouldn’t just jump to—”

In the middle of Alara’s sentence, a monotone voice—robotic, Alara could tell more than anyone—opened a line with each of them, demanding they state their business. Each of them maintained visual scanning of the compound; the rotation of those turbolasers and any movement on the landing pad were watched closely. As acting Squadron Leader, Nareia responded to the transmission for the rest of them.

“This is New Republic pilot Nareia Norre requesting to speak to a “Vaid Vas’ah”. We’ve obtained information we can’t retrieve alone, and we’ve been informed by our superiors that there is no one better to crack the ciphers on this item.” A mixture of authority in her tone and flattery in her plea, she hoped her explanation was sincere enough to at least get her a chance to speak to the man himself.

“Forgive our sudden intrusion into your airspace, but this mission was time sensitive. My escort is with me only as a precaution against any unwanted aggressors.”

“Scan the ships. Look for callsigns, and how long their systems have been idle,” Alara whispered to Zee, who chirped twice in response. While Nareia handled the communications personally, Zee would check the status of those X-wings settled below them. If they did belong to any New Republic pilots before, she wanted to know.

"He is expecting you. Only three of you may land. The rest, you must leave our airspace." The monotone voice replied before cutting comms completely. That was a droid with a short temper.

Zee discovered that the X-Wings had just recently landed. What little they could access suggested that someone had either bought the ships brand new from the company or had somehow installed new software into New Republic computers. Either way, those X-Wings were probably not New Republic and were likely there as part of this... Vas'ah guy's security detail. Considering how much external security there was, this guy was either paranoid or very important.

When the comm channel between the compound and herself closed, Nareia swore under her breath. Vaid never answered; pompousness and paranoia weren’t qualities that attracted her whether they be from allies or enemies. Wedge wasn’t happy to point out that this was the only man that came to mind when it came to cracking the data chip. Her hands were tied, and she would have to comply with those rules.

“Why just three?” Kyrin was the first to speak again in their comm channel. “Interesting number.”

“If he asked me to come alone, I’d be less willing to do it. Maybe he knew,” Nareia suggested. “Or maybe he didn’t. That landing pad looks like it can hold just a few more ships, but not all of us.”

“Zee scanned those X-wings,” Alara quickly cut in. “They haven’t been down there long. Nothing ties their systems to the New Republic; there’s no callsign data or coordinates related to any New Republic territories. It could just be coincidence—the X-wing is a fantastic ship; I can’t blame someone for wanting one.”

“Could be system wiped,” Kyrin muttered. “Don’t know if this guy is legit or not. Did Wedge know?”

“If he knew, he would’ve told me.”

“But he was also in a hurry,” Rayce added. “This wasn’t a formal briefing and even minor details are something Wedge would gloss over to save time. If he knew about the X-wings, I don’t see why he wouldn’t warn us. Seems important.”

“Knowing Vaid and meeting Vaid are two different things. Besides, we’re burning time and that makes us look suspicious. I’d rather give him the benefit of the doubt, even if he’s hiding behind a lot of defenses. His house, his rules.” Nareia took another look at the landing pad; those X-wings were becoming a source of paranoia for not only the others, but herself as well. “Gold Leader,” she said loud and clear. “That droid said three could land; I’m tempted to take Rayce and Kyrin with me, but if the worst should happen, I don’t want you alone with only one X-wing to back you up.”

She broke off from her encirclement; the rest of the ships followed, listening intently.

“I’m going to land on my own—Zee will ping my R2 unit every other minute to check in and make sure it isn’t vaporized. If I don’t contact you within twenty minutes, you’ll know something is off.”

“You can’t be serious! You know this guy is shady,” Kyrin argued. “At least let Rayce go with you. Security guard might come in handy down there. Or, yours truly.”

“No, I’m already overthinking this as is. If something goes wrong, the better pilots should stay safe. Keep an eye on Gold Squadron and hope we can all laugh about how paranoid we’ve gotten an hour from now.” With that, Nareia’s X-wing broke off from the group and turned back towards the compound as the others exited its airspace and headed for the nearby capital city's spaceport.

“Nareia—” Rayce started.

“Get going. I’ll get back in touch when I can. Nareia out.” The comm channel fell silent after that; it was for the best, she thought.

She cruised alone to the compound and started her landing sequence; her engine power slowly died, and her landing gear lowered once she found enough space to set down. The power to her shields was the last system with power before it, too, was cut. Taking a deep breath, she removed her helmet and opened the canopy.

“Keep talking to Zee,” she told her R2 unit, reaching into a compartment on her right side and retrieving a blaster as she set the helmet on her empty seat. She doubted they would let her keep it, but maybe by coming alone they would feel less intimidated, allowing her to hold on to it for her own comfort. It was worth a try. “If you see the ships taking off, warn the others.”

Descending the retractable ladder down her ship’s side, she patted her left thigh and felt the shape of the data chip safely tucked inside it before making towards the landing pad’s exit ramp. She expected some sort of escort.

Nareia walked across the barren front yard of the home. To her left was the landing pad full of X-Wings and to her right was one of the massive turbolaser towers. Standing next to it was a Zabrak who was fixing something on one of the tower's control panels. This guy was bluffing. Those towers were probably not even functional. As she passed by, the Zabrak mechanic shot a glare in her direction before closing the panel and going on his way to a nearby storage shed. The house before her had two floors and was filled with antennas and a satellite dish at the very top, ruining the otherwise beautiful mansion. There were also a pair of speeder bikes parked near the main entrance.

When she approached the door, it immediately opened before she could even think of knocking. Standing in front of her was an IG-series assassin droid, painted in different shades of purple.

"You must be the New Republic contact." Said the droid, in a familiar monotone voice. This was the same droid who had 'greeted' them earlier. "Before you go any further..." The droid pointed at her holstered pistol. "Your weapon. Hand it over."

“Of course,” Nareia replied with a forced smile, slowly reaching to her hip and retrieving the blaster. She flipped it upside down before handing it to the droid. “I’ll want that back before I go.”

Taking the pistol, the droid tossed it in a container right by the door drame.

"Follow me and don't wander off."

The IG-series droid led the New Republic pilot through the colossal house, passing through an entry hall and then an interior courtyard. Nareia saw multiple expensive pieces of art like busts, tapestries, and paintings. The interior courtyard had a beautiful garden which surrounded a large statue of a Bothan right in the middle. The IG droid led Nareia into a room to the right side of the statue. Opening a set of double doors, she followed the IG droid into a lounge.

The lounge barely fit the more posh exterior. It reeked of smoke and alcohol and the dimmed lighting made it look like some back alley death stick dealer's den. The droid walked over to a Bothan who was sitting in a circular sofa right in the middle of the room. From the looks of it, this was Zaid Vas'ah, the guy she was supposed to meet. He was surrounded by males of several species. The Bothan's fun time with his 'escorts' was suddenly interrupted by the IG-series droid who leaned in and gestured toward Nareia. Rolling his eyes, Zaid, who was wearing a intricately decorated purpoe bathrobe stood up and walked over to Nareia with a Quarren wrapped around one arm and a Shistavanen on the other.

"So, you're Wedge's contact." Said the Bothan, drawing a chuckle from his Shistavanen escort. "You don't look like much, girl. I hope whatever you brought is worth my time."

Zaid barely made eye contact with the Rebel pilot. He considered her to be beneath him. The pilot was merely a middle man.

No response. Wonderful start.

Between the cheerful disposition of that Zabrak performing maintenance on the turbolaser towers outside and a security droid careless for her belongings, Nareia’s loathing of the mission understandably increased. Her forced smile tightened once the DL-44 was carelessly tossed into the container, but her composure was kept. It wasn’t built for hospitality, and neither were the people she presumed worked for Vaid. With a welcome this warm, she couldn’t fathom what it would be like to deal with the Bothan himself.

Following behind the IG droid, she gave his collection of art a good look; the garden in the courtyard was gorgeous, and the statue of the Bothan were beautiful pieces of work both. If she in a better mood—and her company conversational—she might’ve asked a question about the works they passed. Vaid obviously possessed a great amount of wealth; the art across his home was quality regardless of her personal feelings on their designs. She didn’t need to be Alara to tell that great care went into them.

As she wondered what the other homes in the compound possessed, the IG led her into another room. The sharp stench of strong alcohol and airborne narcotics made her nose wrinkle and her eyebrows furrow. Her eyes narrowed to adjust in the dimmed lighting, several men towards the center of the room catching her eye. Guests? No… upon a closer look, they appeared to be “entertainment”—not the kind she enjoyed, but clearly Vaid’s tastes were quite unlike her own.

She eyed the only Bothan in the room who was seated in the circular sofa, and upon catching sight of his eyes rolling once he noticed her, that tight smile of hers made a reappearance. The feeling was mutual.

Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew the data chip and held it in her left fist as the host approached, backed by two men who—of course—had to come along. He dressed finely, but a well-tailored robe didn’t mask his terrible attitude. The insinuation he made about her not measuring up to his unimportant standards would be dismissed. The mission wasn’t to impress him, and she certainly wasn’t about to waste time trying.

At his mention of Wedge, her eyes narrowed hard into his own. “I didn’t think Wedge would let you know we were coming,” she admitted freely. That explained how he was expecting them. “Anyway…” she raised her hand and opened her fist, the data chip resting on her palm. “I imagine he already explained to you how time-sensitive this is, and arranged fair payment for aiding the New Republic? Because we don’t have a lot of time, and I’m sure you’d love to get back to… them.”

Nareia gestured to the Quarren and the Shistavanen with two nods. “I heard you were good,” she continued, bolstering his inflated ego. “I’m looking forward to seeing how fast you access this.”

"Thank you, girl. I do appreciate when people recognize my genius." He said, giving Nareia a smile and a wink. The Bothan then handed the chip over to the Quarren who took it over to a console at the other end of the room. Zaid followed closely behind his escort who inserted the chip inside a slot in the middle of the computer. The Bothan then stepped forward and started typing in a few codes and finished once the console made a loud beeping sound.

"I'm the best cipher specialist in the known Galaxy. Did you know that? People come to me from all over just so I can break ciphers from both the Empire and your little group of hoodlums and hopefuls. I work for your people more often just because you guys pay me much, much better."

The Bothan paused for a moment, taking a good look at the human woman. She wasn't really his type, but he knew a few who would appreciate her. "Say, girl. I know a few people who would pay good money to have your at their side. I hear the New Republic these days is pretty stagnant. May I suggest a career change? It pays well."

Surprisingly, Zaid gave the chip to the Quarren soon after receiving it. As he turned, so did Zaid; and as Zaid moved to follow the Quarren, she was right beside him. It appeared the Quarren’s only task was to insert the chip into a nearby computer. From there, Zaid took over. She was just about to keep a close eye on where his fingers darted to in the hopes that she might learn a thing or two, but the process seemed to be completed in mere seconds. A loud beep emitted from the computer console, then nothing.

Looking from the computer to Zaid, Nareia’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she said with genuine surprise, nodding in respect. “Wedge sent me to the right guy for the job.”

He chose to speak a little more rather than conclude the business there, talking of cracking both Imperial and New Republic ciphers before. She almost insisted he turn down the Imperials outright, but she was no diplomat. Convincing Zaid to make his skills exclusive to the cause she fought for would need to be the job of someone far more charismatic than herself. A Jedi might fare better, she’d make a note of it.

After a pause, he looked her over with interest he did not have a minute ago. “What?” she asked. He spoke of turning her skills over to the highest bidder instead, to which she smiled; not forced, not sardonic, but genuine. “Sorry, these skills aren’t for sale. You don’t even know what I’m capable of, unless you and Wedge spoke about more than just the chip.”

Now it was her turn to be flattered. It was a fleeting joy before the seriousness of the situation settled right back in. His comments about the New Republic couldn’t be left unchecked.

“The New Republic has hit a few walls but we’re going to survive this,” she said with certainty. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of any pilots looking to get hired in Drev’starn by chance? We could use fresh blood considering recent events.”

She wasn’t talking about Endor, although Zaid could assume as much. Zsinj’s Super Star Destroyer came to mind more than once on the trip to Bothawui.

Zaid couldn't help but to laugh. So naive. It was almost... cute. He didn't elaborate much further on it and turned back to the console to finish the decryption.

"Interesting." The Bothan remarked, as he put up the chip's contents on the display screen. "Looks like a mission briefing." Going over the contents, Zaid laughed again. "Your New Republic friends are messing with forces they barely understand. They were trying to crack open a Sith Holocron. Hah!"

As soon as the screen showed the contents, Nareia saw movement out of the corner of her eye. The Twi'lek male moved away from behind the bar and approached the Shistavasen. Suddenly, the Quarren pulled out a baton from the leather jacker he was wearing, striking the Bothan in the face and knocking him to the ground. Zaid cursed as he hit the floor.

"What the...? What do you think you're doing!?" Shouted Zaid, glancing over to his IG droid who was about to shoot the Quarren before it was disabled by the Shistavanen using an EMP device. The Twi'lek drew two pistols and pointed one at Nareia.

"Don't move, Rebel. This doesn't concern you." He warned, as the Shistavanen drew a gun as well. Zaid chuckled, realizing his situation.

"Fools, the lot of you. Your Emperor is dead! I'll remember this. I've got friends-" Before he could speak anymore, the Twi'lek used the stun mode from one of his pistols, knocking the Bothan unconscious. The other escorts on the couch froze in place, covering their heads as they expected a shootout. The Quarren picked up the decrypted chip from the console and walked over to where the Shistavanen was.

"Let's go." He told the other two, before they ran out of the room. The trio rushed to the exit to make their escape.

Shrugging off his failure to answer her, Nareia returned focus to the screen ahead of them. The decryption was completed and the answer to the questions the Rogues wanted was displayed. However, none of it made sense to her. She knew of the holocron only because Zsinj mentioned it. Alara described it as a storage device used by people with that thing Jedi called the ‘Force’. But the term ‘Sith’ wasn’t familiar to her. Maybe Alara knew something about that, too.

She reached for her comlink to inform the others, but her hand never made it inside her pocket. The approach of one of the men drew her attention, and the blunt sound of metal against flesh caused her to turn in time to see Zaid fall to the floor. The IG droid was dealt with quickly with some sort of EMP device; before she could even question what was happening, the man from the bar pointed a pistol to her face.

“Easy, easy,” Nareia said gently, raising both hands up in surrender. “What is this? Who are you?”

Zaid chuckled and muttered something before promptly being stunned; the Quarren took the chip while those uninvolved in this trap cowered. It was a lot to process and, once the trio of men’s footsteps started to fade, she lowered her arms and hurried to the fallen IG droid.

“Don’t just sit there!” she snapped, shooting a look at those still idle on the couch. “At least get him off the floor and some medical attention—this party is over!”

Gripping the E-11 in one hand, she grabbed her comlink for the other and carefully hurried out of the room. She made for the house’s entrance, watchful for any unknown elements that might identify her as part of the trap against Zaid. “Rogue Group, Gold Group—do you read me!?”

“We hear you!” Rayce immediately replied; reading her tone and not trusting Zaid at all, he was already prepared for a disastrous outcome. “What’s your status?”

“Zaid’s unconscious; some men turned against him—they’ve got the decrypted chip and they’re moving to escape. At least three with them, maybe even more!” Nareia said hastily, glancing over her shoulder to make sure there were no pursuers before continuing forward. She could see the doorway just ahead. “They betrayed him at the drop of a credit, so I need you to assume everything in this compound that can shoot you down will do so!”

“What about those turbolasers?”

Nareia thought back to when she first arrived. The unfriendly Zabrak was messing with the control panel of one of the towers. Whether he was working to fix it or disable it was unknown. She couldn’t take any chances with the lives of her friends and allies.

“Unknown. If they’re active, use your proton torpedoes to bring them down again,” she decided. “Gold Group, prep your ion cannons. I don’t want them to escape with that chip, but I also want some answers if we can get them!”

“On our way!” Rayce announced; the sound of multiple X-wings powering up could be heard over the line.

Nareia changed the com channel as she reached the container at the front doorway, replacing the rifle in her hand for the blaster she was forced to leave behind earlier. Best cipher specialist in the galaxy with the worst security measures in history. Unreal, she thought.

“Peethree, prep the ship for launch!” The R2 unit beeped twice in acknowledgment and initiated her ship’s startup sequence. Pocketing the comlink again, she hugged the doorway wall closely before opening it and risking a peak outside, her DL-44 at the ready.

The trio had rendezvous with the Zabrak who had supplied them with a hidden cache of weapons and proper clothing. Putting it on quickly, the Quarren looked over to the house, seeing the door slightly ajar he shot at it with his pistol.

"Don't follow us!" He shouted. At the same time she heard a whirring noise and soon, the pilot heard the group speed up in the distance. If she stepped outside, she would have seen the four fly off into the distance in some kind of small hover shoe that allowed them to levitate above the ground. Soon after they left, the X-Wings on the platform began to explode one by one. Luckily Nareia had landed far enough for the explosions to not catch her own X-Wing. Upon closer inspection, she also noticed that the turbolaser towers had been deactivated. Whoever did this, they either wanted to send a message or wanted to make sure they weren't going to be followed. In the direction they were going, the group would soon reach the planet's capital city...


A covert request

collab w/ @Honesty Crow


Yavin IV
Gold Squadron Hangar





“You let Kyrin sit at a Pazaak table while he was fuming?” asked a seasoned war veteran whose head was deep in his ship’s cockpit.

Nareia fought the urge to smirk, instead biting the inside of both her lips and looking at a few other Y-wings resting idle nearby. Gold Squadron’s hangar had less variety than the Rogues, but they were just as brave and skilled as any other unit; Marvo was one of just a few members inside, performing a daily system check with an R2 unit inside his craft. Gold Leader didn’t want to take any chances.

“You know,” she started, cocking her head. “Suri said the exact same thing you did, and in almost the exact same tone.”

Marvo glanced over his shoulder and peered at Nareia with suspicion. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” He left his R2 unit to finish its check and descended the Y-wing’s retractable ladder. “People talk more and more, and no one knows how this is going to turn out yet. You really think setting him loose is going to make things any easier?”

“No, but it might get us back to the fight a lot faster,” Nareia said, straightening up. “Besides, Wedge is Rogue Leader, not me. I’m not in charge of anything any of them do.”

“Nareia, when you’re part of a team, it’s up to you to watch their back just as its up to them to watch yours,” Marvo said matter-of-factly. “And it’s also your responsibility to keep them in check when you have to. You know that. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

Nareia’s jaw tensed; she wanted to retort with something clever, or even something he couldn’t deflect. He wasn’t scolding her or pulling rank, and he’d seen more action than any Rogue still living. It was hard to contest someone who disagreed and showed such grace while doing so. Besides, he was right, and she’d be a fool to deny it.

“I know he’s not the only one.”

Nareia blinked. “What?”

“He’s not the only pilot with reservations. This is more than just Rogue Squadron; this thing is in Gold Squadron, too.” Marvo gave a small wave at his R2 unit—who acknowledged with a bleep—before coming around his Y-wing and moving towards the entrance, Nareia close beside him. “Suri also had a lot to say.”

“She did?” Nareia asked. “She never said she agreed.”

“Because I asked her not to—not yet, at least. When word first got out about Zsinj and that Super Star Destroyer, it was like a storm zapped everyone out of indecision.” He shook his head. “You, the Rogues, Suri and I… we knew this wasn’t over. Now, so does the rest of the base. Mon Mothma has to come to a decision and quickly; either she extends a peace offer to the Remnant, or—”

“You can’t seriously believe they’d ever let Endor go.”

“Maybe not, no…” Marvo sighed heavily. “But isn’t it worth trying at least? If we can restore the New Republic, we can also hope for a peaceful solution. An end to all this bloodshed.”

Nareia couldn’t fathom ever shaking hands with an Imperial. The thought of it made her shudder. But her way, she knew, wasn’t the only way to end this war. Marvo had a point; and although she didn’t want to admit it, Mon Mothma’s attempt to seek peace wasn’t wrong, only ill-timed. With Zsinj and that fleet out there, a temporary truce between the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant might have been considered, at least briefly.

She stopped at the hangar’s mouth and stared at the ground. Marvo must’ve noticed her conflict; a strong hand came to her shoulder and squeezed it firmly.

“If we divide now, I’m afraid we may not recover in time to fight if we have to,” he whispered quietly. “Mon Mothma helped start this fight. She had few supporters and even fewer resources at the time, but she helped make the Rebellion possible in the first place. So, I’ll place my faith in her until every fiber of my being can’t sit still any longer. I owe her that much.”

Nareia swallowed, then gently nodded her head. “Well, hard to argue with that,” she conceded with a growing grin. “Why didn’t Wedge pick you up yet?”

“Me?” Marvo smiled tightly. “I’m too old to play with the hotshots and the up-and-comers. Besides, I get more enjoyment out of teaching Alara how to fly B-wings than destroying Imperial targets.” Nareia shot him a look. “…Okay, just a little more.”

The two shared laughter, and by coincidence Nareia caught Wedge’s silhouette walking towards them in the distance. “He’s back,” she pointed out, and Marvo caught the same image. “Wonder how it went.”

“You’re about to find out.” Marvo released her shoulder and gave her a few pats on the back. “Whatever Wedge might have to say, I’ll find out one way or another. I’ll see you later, ‘reia.”

“Thanks,” Nareia said. She watched Marvo turn and step back inside Gold Squadron’s hangar for a moment longer, then moved to meet Wedge halfway towards it. “Any news?”

She sounded desperate for a plan she could believe in, and she was.

When Wedge walked into the hangar, the look he had on his face wasn't promising. At a distance and without context one could have believed his wife had passed. There was a mix of unbridled anger with a hint of despair.

"We should discuss this in private." He said, gesturing for Nareia to follow him. Wedge led them both to a corner in betwern the hangar and an fuel storage warehouse next door. After making sure that no one was around to listen, Wedge took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to relax before speaking.

"General Iblis and Chancellor Mothma fought again. This time, I thought their little groups were going to come to blows. The events at Onderon just made things worse." He paused for a moment, running his hand through his hair before continuing. "For now, Mothma wants to keep us grounded. Again... He wants every available unit defending the New Republic in case Zsinj's forces attack us. It's sound, but unpopular."

Nareia found it difficult to believe that any member of the fledgling Senate—much less High Command—would ever put hands on one another. She also found it difficult to believe that Mon Mothma heard the things she did, and still insisted on lying down while all this was happening. Marvo’s faith in Mon Mothma may be unshaken, as much as it could be these days anyway, but it was hearing things like this that made her a firm believer in what Iblis desired to do.

She took a deep breath and crossed her arms with a disapproving headshake. “Okay…” she started, restraining her temper. “What’s so unpopular about putting our worlds and territories on alert? If Mon Mothma and her entourage won’t agree to a full-scale attack, then the least we can do is shore up our defenses. We can continue to train new pilots and troops in the meantime; Mon Mothma can have peace of mind that we won’t make an attack, but we need to see our forces put to better use than cantina games and routine maintenance checks.”

Scoffing, Nareia smiled at their misfortune; weeks ago, they were more united than they’d been since the destruction of the very first Death Star, and now they were fighting among themselves for power, just as Imperials would.

“I’ll just get newer pilots for early morning training runs,” she continued, defeated. There wasn’t anything wrong with training, but Rogue Squadron’s experience could be better used elsewhere; they were an elite unit, not flight academy staff. “But you know as well as I do that what you told me won’t satisfy everyone… and apparently this isn’t just an issue with Rogue Squadron. Resources are going to waste all over. And if I’m being honest, I’ve had about enough of waiting around doing nothing.”

Rayce and Alara would understand and would play ball, even if they didn’t like it; people like Kyrin and Suri, they were harder pilots to convince. Rayce was right before, they needed a win and badly. Something to rally behind. The high from Endor was no longer going to cut it.

“Not that I hope you threatened to beat anyone up, but did you stress the importance of giving us intelligence?” Nareia asked, hoping his backbone didn’t go missing.

That was the worst part of it all. The secrets. Back then, the Alliance had been fairly open with its information on missions. But now, things had been locked down. While Wedge understood the logic, they had come down way too hard on it. It was eroding the trust of their subordinates. And even his own trust.

"Madine didn't budge on it. He's seemingly gone back to his Imperial roots." Wedge sighed and reached into his pocket pulling out a small data chip. "Take this and don't tell anyone outside Rogue or Gold Squadron. If they won't give us the information, then we'll get it ourselves. I'll cover for you and the others while you're out there."

“Wonderful news,” she replied dryly with a forced smile. Her days of destroying key Imperial targets looked well and truly over. Maybe starting an academy of her own wouldn’t be such a bad idea. At the very least, people under her tutelage would have the privilege of knowing every condition they were going to be flying in; that was the least she could do for people under her care.

She was about to thank Wedge for at least trying to make Madine see reason, but his hand wandering inside his pocket caught her attention. A small chip was retrieved and extended to her, which she took without hesitation. Examining it closely while he instructed her to keep this secret from all others except the Rogues and Gold Squadron, her dark eyes returned to his face. She held her stare for a few seconds before pocketing the chip and looking around, making positively certain that none were nearby to overhear them.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked quietly. Keeping secrets is what got them in this position in the first place; Wedge appeared ready and willing to play the same game Madine was. But perhaps she wasn’t reading the situation properly. Maybe Wedge wasn’t doing what she thought. “You know I’ll do it for you, Wedge, but this means you’re taking a side in the politics you didn’t want to get involved with in the first place. Like it or not, what I think you’re asking of me and the others is something General Iblis would get behind.”

Wedge sighed, looking away for a moment before returning to Nareia.

"I have a family that I want to go back to. But I can't do that if the Empire is still around or if the New Republic falls apart. At the same time, I think we deserve to know what else they're hiding from us and why we were sent out to Onderon in the first place. I want to do right by you first." He pointed at the data chip in her hand. "Those are coordinates. It's an estate on Bothawui. You're going to meet with him and ask him to decode that chip for us. It should have everything we need to know."

Wedge had broken into Madine's office and stolen the secret briefing on the Onderon operation. He wouldn't appreciate it now, but Wedge knew that the General would understand later down the line.

"After that, return here. Make sure you do this quickly. I won't be able to cover for you guys for long."

She could relate in wanting all this to be over, but preferably with democracy back in place. He couldn’t have gotten this chip without something morally questionable, if not treacherous. In other words, something entirely unlike him to do. They were becoming truly desperate if one of the New Republic’s greatest pilots and leaders would resort to something underhanded—all for the greater good, of course.

“And only the contact on Bothawui can accomplish this?” Nareia asked, doubting such a thing. But with time short and only the coordinates themselves being accessible in this chip, Wedge’s options were few. Anyone else he could ask might sell him out the instant he tried. It was better he didn’t take that risk.

“I can mobilize the other Rogues and leave in ten,” she continued, “and it might not be difficult to convince others that Gold Squadron went out on a training exercise with us, but if this was going to be something simple you wouldn’t have mentioned Gold Squadron.”

She believed in preparing for the unexpected, and it was that doctrine that allowed Rogue Squadron to be one of the most versatile units in the New Republic’s arsenal. Informing Gold Squadron to follow them to Bothawui without mentioning Command was suspicious by itself. Respect, however, went a long way, and there were few pilots who wouldn’t throw themselves into the unknown for his sake. As for her…

Nareia reached inside her other pocket and withdrew a comlink. “You told me the planet and the estate. Can you tell me about the person I’ll be dealing with, and why I might need to bring a few Y-wings behind me?”

"His name is Zaid Vas'ah. A member of a wealthy and powerful Bothan Clan on the planet. He's an intelligence specialist who works for the New Republic on occasion. Vas'ah will be able to break through the ciphers on the chip and reveal the briefings and whatever else they hid from us."

Zaid Vas'ah was untrustworthy. Even he knew that the Bothan had connections to the criminal underworld, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If the New Republic wouldn't tell them the truth, then they would have to search for it.

"I'd go with you, but..." He sighed, glancing toward the command center building across the base grounds. "It'll raise the alarm if I go missing after what happened."

The name didn’t ring any bells. She didn’t know how long this Bothan worked with the New Republic and what his ‘occasional’ partnership would cost them. The Rebel Alliance’s work with unsavory types for the greater good wasn’t unusual, although they preferred to keep their noses cleaner now that they evolved into the New Republic. To still have need of someone they couldn’t trust without a bomber unit at their back was a disappointment. After all the Bothan people gave to the Rebel Alliance—making the attack on Endor possible to begin with—she was counting on a peaceful solution to get what Wedge needed.

“I hope he’s in the mood to talk then,” she said, flicking on her comlink and bringing it to her lips. “Rogue Group, we need to talk. Suit up and meet me at our hangar, quickly and quietly.”

“Madine take Rayce up on that flight show on Chandrila idea?” Kyrin laxly responded. “I’ll get right on it.”

“This is Wedge’s request… and Madine doesn’t know,” she added tensely. Rayce and Alara acknowledged and prepared to suit up, with Kyrin whistling sharply before doing the same. Stowing the comlink for now, Nareia maneuvered around Wedge and hustled towards Gold Squadron’s hangar. “Hope you’re as good a storyteller as you are a pilot,” she yelled over her shoulder with a smile.

In twelve minutes following the order from Wedge, Rogue’s Six, Seven, Eight, and Nine took flight one after the other from their hangar; nearby, Gold Leader and three other men took off from their own and formed up behind Rogue Group. Leaving the atmosphere, they flew casually through the defensive fleet positioned over the planet, made the calculations for lightspeed, and jumped not long after.

They emerged from lightspeed in the Both system and continued for Bothawui. The coordinates available on the data chip retrieved by Wedge were uploaded to every individual ship. Despite this, they chose to form up behind Nareia, having decided without her that she would be acting as the squadron leader for this assignment.

The eight starfighters broke atmosphere, were able to admire a change in scenery from Yavin’s endless jungles and temples, then continued towards the estate’s coordinates...
Stunrods and Literature

Collab between @Piercing Light and @SoleAccord

Yavin IV
The Jedi Temple


~-~-~-~-~-~


A series of sharp, high-pitched whistles and shrills escaped the rocking droid beside Alara. Before she could turn and try to calm her companion, the little astromech droid bolted forward as fast as its three leg-wheels could carry it.

“Zee, wait!” Alara called out, but it was too late. The stun rod equipped to one of R6-D6’s arms released a small electric arc between its tiny pincers, then darted towards Lahana’s left knee in frustration.

His master caught up behind it and brought her small arms around its frame, just in case he tried pursuing after the initial strike. “Calm down!” she pleaded, fighting against Zee’s motor.

Lahana flinched as the droid rolled towards her. What was it doing? Was it malfunctioning, did it think she was a threat somehow? She felt a jolt to her leg, a zap that felt a little too familiar. She clenched her teeth and jumped back. She reached out her hand towards her blaster which was sitting next to her lightsabers. She stopped herself from pulling it towards herself as she realized Alara was holding the droid back. "W-what is that thing's problem!?" She yelled with shaky words, her eyes glancing back to the weapons sitting on a table.

She went for the blaster, not her lightsaber. Why?

R6-Z6 released a triumphant whistle and loosed a few sparks of electricity from its stun rod in a threatening display. Its dome-head rotated towards its stationary brother, with a single dark eye focusing on its broken joint. It stopped itself from accelerating forward and focused its eye on Alara, chirping with annoyance.

“I’ll tell her, I’ll tell her!” Alara promised. Only after she said so did the fiery astromech withdraw its stun rod; its ‘face’ returned to Lahana, watching for her next move with calculated precision. One wrong step and it would come after her again.

Standing up again, Alara glanced at the broken joint of Lahana’s training droid and gestured to it with a weak jerk of her wrist. “That set him off,” she explained. “Zee has a lot of pride in being a droid, but not everyone respects them like I do. When he saw you break that droid’s arm, he got upset.” She frowned. “To be fair, you were really going hard at it. I could hear its joints straining from the doorway.”

Her attention moved to Lahana’s leg, examining the small black mark created by Zee’s attack. “Is there any bacta we can rub on that, or will you be okay?”

Lahana looked down at her leg, she raised it and bent her knee a few times. "It's fine..." She mumbled, before looking to Alara's droid. She glanced back to the training machine. "I don't get it, but I'll have someone repair it." The droid didn't have an advanced AI core, it was built simply to move it's hands. She doubted it even had the ability to care that it's arm was broken. But then again, droids weren't exactly her specialty.

Lahana ruffled her hair, letting part of it fall to cover the scarred side of her face. "Did you, uhm, need something?"

“There, you see?” Alara mumbled to Zee, lightly nudging him with her fingers. “She probably didn’t mean it, and they’ll be fixed good as new.”

Zee let out a low groan, its dome looking from Lahana to the training droid’s broken joint. He didn’t believe Lahana would keep her word, but he chose to believe in Alara's request as it would be much nicer than the one he'd give. One more moan left him before he returned to her side.

“Zee’s a tough little guy, but he’s also pretty sensitive,” she explained quietly to Lahana, pressing the palms of her hands together. Whether Lahana understood his feelings or not wouldn’t matter, she only needed to take greater care of her training droids in the future.

In all the excitement she nearly forgot why she wanted to come. “Oh!” She jumped a little, her smile returning. “I was wondering, could you show me to your library? You’re the first person I’ve come across since entering your temple; I didn’t want to bother the guards outside to find someone for me, but the hallways are so long and winding, and so many of your rooms are empty! You guys really need to ask for furniture donations or something!”

Zee rotated his dome head around towards the exit, then rotated his body around with it. He wheeled himself out of there, an impatient whistle loosed from his vocabulator.

Alara glanced back at Zee before motioning towards the doorway. “If it’s not too much trouble, that is. I really tried to find it on my own, I did. Oh, I did find the bathrooms though—three times. I might’ve gone in a circle.”

"The library... right." She could count on one hand the number of times she'd been there. If she were ever curious about something she simply asked her master about it. Still, she was certain she knew where it was. "I need to uh, take a shower first." She had worked up a sweat from her workout, as evidenced by her soaked shirt and disheveled hair. She was thankful that she'd worn something with long sleeves, she didn't need Alara or anyone else seeing her scars. She let out an awkward laugh. "Ha, I got lost a few times when I first got here too."

She walked past Alara, making sure to give her droid a wide breadth as she grabbed her robe. It didn't take long for her to shower and return, now donning her Jedi robe. she motioned for Alara to follow her as she exited the room.

"So... What sort of thing are you looking for anyway? History or something?"

“Anything.” Alara shrugged, still with a smile plastered on her face when Lahana returned. She spent the few minutes during Lahana’s absence talking to Zee about no longer charging at Jedi Padawans—especially those that accidentally hit a droid too hard. Zee—as before—promised nothing. “I’ve never gone into a library or a database knowing quite what I’m after. One minute I’m studying flora and fauna found on Felucia, and the next I’m learning more about Rodian Theater. But, lately, I’ve really been interested in the Wookiee homeworld and their people; I actually wanted to go out there someday!”

After today, she doubted she would get to walk in Kashyyyk’s Shadowlands anytime soon. Wedge needed every talented pilot he could get, and that went double for the New Republic as a whole. Skilled pilots were in demand now more than ever after the losses sustained at Endor.

“I’ve fallen asleep reading more times than I could even begin to count,” she said. “What sort of things do you like reading about? Do you know any languages? What sort of teaching curriculum do you have here?”

"Um..." Lahana narrowed her eyes and averted her gaze from Alara. Why was she asking so many questions, and why was she so excited? Was reading really that fun for her, or maybe it was learning that was enjoyable? "I don't really read much anymore." Lahana grumbled and fiddled with her braid. "The children are given a pretty normal education... at least I think it's normal, it was hard for me." Her mouth quivered, how many languages did she know? "Just Basic. I use a translator for everything else." A bold faced lie, she knew one other language. But it was the tongue of the men that had enslaved her. She hadn't spoken a word of it in years.

They soon reached the entrance to the library. In spite of whatever permission she had, the stuck up receptionist motioned to voice a complaint. Lahana glared in their direction, and they promptly sat down.

“Oh,” Alara mumbled with genuine astonishment; she couldn’t fathom not enjoying a good book from time to time, but as a Jedi it would be understandable that martial training took precedence. As for Lahana’s remarks regarding the curriculum and needing a translator, it was Zee who whistled in a sarcastic fashion only Alara could understand.

“Be nice.” Zee rotated his dome head back and forth—that was a no. Alara smiled at Lahana. “Zee says, ‘Do you beat up your translators, too?’. He might take longer than I thought.” She mouthed the word ‘sensitive’ to her Jedi companion and snickered, then quickly straightened up once she heard Zee’s head rotate in their direction.

Arriving at the temple library, Alara wasn’t blessed by the sight of rows upon rows of holobooks and flimsiplast texts that she imagined. What she instead saw were half-empty shelves across a single floor; rows were filled with a combination of holobooks and paper texts, however the amount of available shelf space far exceeded the space that was filled. It was far from the library she dreamed about seeing someday, yet her eyes still lit up with the possibility of learning something new. The Jedi; their martial practices, their dogma and philosophy, and even the history predating the Empire was almost at her fingertips.

Alara didn’t catch the receptionist’s move to complain. As swiftly and silently as her feet could carry her, she briskly moved for the nearest bookshelf and moved to examine the spines and columns. The biggest challenge was deciding what to dive into first.

“This is so awesome!” she whispered excitedly as Zee pulled up beside her. “Lahana? Lahana, where are the books about combat disciplines?”

Lahana looked down at the droid and tapped at a small device in her left ear. "Only if it ticks me off." She said. She'd forgotten to turn her translator on, it gave off annoying feedback when she used it so she tended to leave it alone.

Alara was enthused by the sight of the library in spite of it's less than impressive selection. Lahana had a similar reaction to seeing the kitchen, so she could relate in a way. "Combat forms..." Lahana mumbled to herself as she tried to remember where the texts were kept. "This way." She knew where those were at least, Kale had her study some forms to cover her shortcomings in handling a lightsaber. "Here's a copy about the history of Shii-Cho. Apparently it's the first form developed for lightsaber combat." She said, motioning to a shelf. "The original text is held somewhere else, it's too fragile to be used constantly." She recited what she was told about the document, she'd never seen it herself. It wasn't as if she'd tried to see it anyhow, after all what would be the point? It's just a dusty old scroll.

Alara willed herself to leave her current selection of books behind and follow after Lahana, a curious Zee keeping pace behind them. Offering a shy wave of the hand to a Rodian who looked up from his own book to see them passing by, she followed her companion around another corner and stood in front of the shelf she gestured to. There, seated among a few other holobooks, sat the one containing information about Shii-Cho.

“The first ever?” Alara asked. “Or the first known?” She took the holobook from its shelf and motioned for a vacant table nearby. She set the book down and explored its contents, swiping her finger up and down, left and right, and maximizing imagery and displays of the form’s motion in action. “Do you use this form?”

Lahana watched as Alara went through the text. Looking at her now, she didn't appear anything like a soldier. Her eyes weren't tired, her voice was soft and filled with passion. "It's known as the first form developed for lightsabers... And yes, I can use it. It's standard for Padawans to learn it." She answered, her tone passive as a thought festered in her mind. "Hey Alara, how many people have you killed?"

Alara bit her tongue; if there were any attempts at creating lightsaber forms before Shii-Cho, it likely wasn’t unearthed from possible ancient Jedi sites and archives. Her interest in a little mystery solving grew with each flick of her fingertips across the holobook’s screen. She was on the verge of asking Lahana what else she knew about lightsaber forms, as well as what kind of work went into creating her own lightsabers, until she asked a question of her own.

Her fingers ceased all taps and swipes, a chill coursing through her body. The thought of war—of killing—wasn’t something she dwelled on. Yes, she’d taken lives before, but never had she thought to keep count of those she was responsible for felling.

“…Ah,” Alara started, smiling weakly. She couldn’t look Lahana in the eye. “I… I-I don’t…” She shook her head and slumped her shoulders, forcing a laugh without breaking the atmosphere of the library. “I-I don’t know, Lahana.”

She resumed scanning the data beneath her, her fingers noticeably slower than before.

Lahana was still for a moment. The question had clearly bothered Alara, but she wasn't sure how to respond. Her suspicions were justified however, Alara was likely the type of person that had a strong aversion to killing. In other words, she wasn't a natural killer like herself. "Me either." Lahana responded, though their reasons were far different. Lahana had simply killed so many people that counting would be impossible.

"Um. Sorry. You just seem so... Normal. I would never guess you were a soldier." She said what she was thinking, maybe that would be right? "I know just looking through those texts won't be enough, so if you want I can show you the forms myself."

“Actually,” Alara countered, “could you talk to me about the places you’ve been, instead?”

The topic of martial skills and disciplines may have given Lahana the wrong idea. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to take her up on the offer of a demonstration. Battles didn’t excite her, not like they did Kyrin; the chance of saving lives, however, was something she would always be enthusiastic about. She wondered if Lahana felt the same kind of relief from saving friends, or even total strangers, but that may be another step backwards in their discussion.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Kashyyyk and Naboo, but I’m afraid if I used any downtime to go and explore, I wouldn’t be there to help my friends.” She powered down the holobook and placed it under her left arm, finally looking up at Lahana. “I heard back before the Empire that Jedi used to go all over the place for peacekeeping missions. What about you?”

"Oh." Lahana was prepared to give a demonstration, but she could answer this at least. "I've been to those places, though I wasn't on Kashyyyk long." She folded her arms and tilted her head in thought. "My homeworld was pretty terrible, the rain was like acid, so what plants did grow were ugly, and buildings were all made of coarse stone. Kashyyyk on the other hand is nothing but big trees. I liked it there. The air was clean, and the wookiees taught me a bit about how to hunt wild animals. Naboo was uh."

Lahana averted her gaze, as if she didn't want to say any more. "What's the word... garish? Maybe the buildings and stuff look nice to other people, but everything is just so bright... I guess I'm just too used to things being grey and dull."

Acid rainfall? ‘Vjun?’, Alara thought, but kept her lips still and allowed Lahana to continue. It was a relief to hear that the Wookiee people were growing welcoming of outsiders—at least the ones that mattered. She knew precious little about Kashyyyk during the Clone Wars, only that they welcomed aid from the Galactic Republic against the Separatist army. The Empire changed a great many things for them; knowing that they were trying to move past their rightful prejudice against humans warmed her heart.

And as for Naboo…

“But isn’t that a good thing?” she asked. “Not having everything be so bleak, I mean. Corulag had a lot of industry, but they kept a few parks around in Curamelle to give it some life… until the Empire needed to make room for more factories. My parents tried fighting to preserve them; there wasn’t enough support, and Corulag was heavily pro-Empire, so they tore them all down.”

Glancing over her shoulders, both left and right, Alara nodded towards another set of shelves. She turned and walked towards a section dedicated to the Jedi’s history; it, too, was largely barren. “I’ll stick to Shii-Cho and return it within the week. I didn’t exactly tell Wedge I’d be taking some for a while, but I hoped Master Skywalker wouldn’t mind. Do you think he’d be against me borrowing a few books and taking them back to base?”

"I guess. My time on different planets isn't usually for fun. Maybe I can change that... later." Lahana could speak much about what happened in the wars, when it came to history she only knew what was relevant for the present. Kale told her learning about the past could make her more wise, but she wasn't sure why. Something about learning from mistakes?

"uhm..." Lahana honestly didn't speak to Luke very often, and when she did she tended to forget to refer to him in a 'respectful' manner. It felt odd, considering he wasn't that much older than she was. "I don't exactly see him reading the texts all that often, I don't think he'd mind."

“He’s probably just busy,” Alara said, running her finger along several holobook spines; one titled “The Jedi Code” caught her eye. She promptly removed it and tucked it beneath her arm beside “The Fundamentals of Shii-Cho”. “I’m only going to take a couple, don’t worry,” she turned to face Lahana. If I wasn’t a Rogue, I might not have gotten the chance to come here to begin with.”

She paused; her eyes narrowed in thought. “Say, what do you know about Luke? What’s he like when you see him?”

"Busy?" Lahana wasn't that familiar with Luke personally. Kale was the one that taught her what she knew. "I've heard about what he did, people say he's a hero. To me he just seems like a guy trying his best to put the Jedi Order back to it's former... glory? He seems to have himself put together at least."

“You’re someone trying their best, too,” Alara pointed out. “I don’t know who you were before you came here, but I think you made the right choice. The Jedi are honorable people… at least that’s what my parents told me. They fought for peace and justice. My parents didn’t believe what the Emperor said all those years ago, and neither do I.”

The attempt on the former Chancellor’s life must’ve been a fabrication. The Jedi had thousands of years to try and seize power for themselves, and they never took it. If anyone knew the truth about what happened, it wasn’t yet publicized information. Maybe Luke was waiting for more students and more masters before letting the knowledge become public.

“But, anyway, before he was a Jedi or Rogue Leader, he was just someone trying to do right. Like us.”

Zee came around the corner and let out a whistle of warning. “Really? Already?” Alara asked, looking from her little friend to her new, bigger one. “Sorry; I told the guy who gave me a ride I wouldn’t take too long and it’s already been close to half an hour. I should probably go.”

"S-sure, bye." Lahana gave a stilted wave to see Alara off, the young woman's words left lingering in her mind. The right choice? She didn't even believe she had one at the time. Luke was a hero, but what did she want to be? Simply surviving was always good enough for her. Surviving... Living... Why was she even alive? Lahana clenched her teeth. It was too quiet here and she didn't want to be left with her thoughts.

“Thanks again, for putting up with me.” Alara bowed her head in thanks and maneuvered past her, clutching the two books closely against her bosom. “I’ll bring them back soon. I promise.”

Zee quickly moved between the two women and ejected a thin arm from one of his sockets, pointing it directly at Lahana, then angling it towards his single, black “eye”. He would be watching her. And should anything else happen to his fellow droids aiding in her training, well…

He flashed his stun rod, then quickly returned it inside his body. “Zee, come on!” Alara whispered from afar, easily picked up by his audio receptors. The astromech unique gave Lahana one last, lingering look before rotating his body and following Alara out of the library.

"You aren't a bother..." Lahana said, though her voice was too quiet to hear. She watched as Alara and her droid left, her eyes squinted at Zee's movements. Was that droid... threatening her? She let out a puff of air as a slight smile creased her face.

A smile? When was the last time she genuinely smiled? Suddenly she didn't mind being left with her thoughts so much.
Does anyone have a need for a Chiss criminal? I need to find some way to slip him in.


This is a very Discord-reliant RP for communication and collaborative purposes.

Check under the "Rules" tab in the original post and join the server if you have a Discord account. If you do not, while not impossible to post without it, it would become difficult to get information in a timely manner and speak to people. I suggest that you get one if you don't.
Yavin IV
Rogue Squadron Hangar


~-~-~-~-~-~


The return to Yavin IV didn’t involve the same enthusiasm as when Rogue Squadron left. Each of them was silent, too busy stewing over the mission with a mixture of emotions to bother with small talk—even Alara, who was notably the most anxious of them all. When they broke lightspeed after the rest of the fleet entered the Yavin system, Nareia briefly contacted Wedge aboard the cruiser and told him of their intention to return to the hangar. No argument was made against it; and there was no witty remark from Kyrin, no congratulatory words from Rayce, and no relieved chatter from Alara. Other than the latter sharing a chilling message between Zsinj and Wedge, none of them had the will or the urge to speak just yet.

The Rogues broke atmosphere and returned to base, and it was only when Alara’s X-wing settled down last did Nareia bother to open her fighter’s canopy, extend her retractable ladder, and descend its rung. The hurried footsteps of a maintenance crew made her blood run hotter, but whether it was anger or shame she didn’t know. Maybe it was both.

“Don’t bother.” She told the crew that ran to attend to her ship, having been met with confused expressions. “A standard system check, just to be safe, but there’s no damage to speak of. We didn’t even fire off a shot.”

Shaking her head and allowing the crew to examine her X-wing, she came around the nose of her ship to see both Kyrin and Rayce moving towards her; Alara was only now powering down her ship, her astromech ZeeZee being removed from his socket as requested.

“Fun time,” Kyrin started bitterly, having felt no calmer since Wedge silenced them. His jaw grew tenser. “Maybe Madine’ll get us to bring the Imperials some cookies and blue milk, just so they’re comfortable while they walk all over us.”

“How much of this operation was Madine really?” Rayce asked next. The silence on the return trip gave all of them time to think; he only needed to know they were placing blame on the right people. “Mon Mothma’s not exactly popular, and he explicitly said that this mission had her backing. General Madine isn’t one to back down from a fight we can win.”

By this time Alara had hustled up to the group with R6-Z6 rolling in behind her. She ran her hands through her hair and shook her head. “The Imperials didn’t do anything either,” she said, following up on Rayce’s comment. “That man—Zsinj—he opened up a link to all of us, but that Admiral Karius never said a word.”

“He didn’t do a thing,” Kyrin agreed. “I thought Madine said he was ruthless. What’s ruthless about a Star Destroyer that wouldn’t turn and face us?”

“Ruthless doesn’t always mean stupid,” Nareia replied. She walked a couple steps backwards before she turned, making for the hangar’s entryway. The others followed beside her. “Madine put a lot of emphasis on that man’s lethality, but our people were extracted without issue. Our ground team did what they were assigned.”

“And that’s another thing. They had no clue what was down there, either.” Rayce inhaled sharply. “They were just as upset as us, and their order is all about controlling negative emotions.”

“They were kept in the dark, too,” Nareia mumbled, stepping out into Yavin’s sunshine. “It hurts to know you don’t have the trust of your own leaders. I doubt the Jedi are any different from us in that regard.”

She came to a stop and turned around to meet their individual faces; Kyrin’s tension and Alara’s sadness struck a chord inside her. Shaking her head in disbelief, she nearly laughed at how quickly things were beginning to change within the New Republic.

“It’s… not good.” Nareia nodded slowly as she said those words. “Mon Mothma? She’s wrong. Madine, too, for looking us in the eye and affirming that none of us are worthy of information. We didn’t even know what we stood to lose down there, and what’s worse is that they took two hours to assemble a team at all.”

“What’s a holocron anyway?” Rayce asked, thinking back on Wedge’s conversation with Zsinj on the bridge. R6-Z6 captured the message between the two; its knack for intercepting messages within allied ships was one of Rogue Squadron’s best kept secrets. Private channels weren’t so private from it. “Why couldn’t we know about it?”

“It’s a device that stores information and is used primarily by Force users,” Alara said quickly. “I don’t know why they couldn’t just tell us that much, at least. Whatever is in that holocron we lost would only be accessible by our Jedi.”

“Why didn’t Luke tell them then?” Kyrin asked.

“I don’t know,” Alara admitted. “The information kept inside could be dangerous. We won’t know unless we reclaim it, or Zsinj finds a way to access it. But to do that, he’d need Luke or one of his students.”

Nareia’s eyes widened. “And that kid, Aren—he’s missing.”

“Gone without a trace. I don’t think Kale lost sight of Aren. I think Aren was either taken, or he was never with us to begin with.”

“That’s a stretch. We don’t know what happened to that kid.” Rayce shook his head. “But, then again, neither did his master.”

“Exactly. So… so maybe Luke didn’t tell any of them because if they knew what was in the holocron, they might be tempted to take the knowledge for themselves.” Alara glanced back at ZeeZee, who chirped supportively at her hypothesis, then looked back to her friends. “Or maybe he always suspected that he might be betrayed. Not everyone entered the Rebel Alliance with clean hands and a just cause. Not all of his Jedi might be good-natured people.”

Kyrin snorted. “What, he’s taking in bad seeds on purpose?”

“You were a smuggler who operated outside of any law. You probably did your share of questionable things before joining the Alliance.”

“I—”

“—did what you had to, to survive,” Alara nodded. “I’m not arguing that you didn’t. I’m only saying… maybe Luke… he saw the good in his students and might’ve ignored their past wrongdoings. It was faith in the good of people that led him to get the numbers he has.”

For a moment, all members of Rogue Group looked among each other in silence. Alara’s theory, while reasonable, was a stretch too thin for any of them to believe in reporting. The possibility was there, but they lacked both the proof and the knowledge about Aren to fully suspect him. The only people who might know about him were in the Jedi Temple that loomed in the distance.

“In any case, we need to focus on what we know, not just what we believe.” Nareia crossed her arms and glanced over her shoulder, directing her gaze towards the Senate building. “What we know is that Mon Mothma is restraining us from striking against all known Imperial targets, especially vulnerable ones that we know we can defeat with minor casualties at best. Madine agrees with her—” she turned back to face her friends “—enough to hold us back, and enough to let a man he seemed concerned with live to fight another day.”

“Madine’s no coward and neither is Wedge,” Rayce reminded them all. “This tension with Mon Mothma and General Iblis might be the reason Madine didn’t want to fight it. We all see our foundation crumbling. So would he.”

“That doesn’t explain why he talked to us like we were gutter trash,” Kyrin hissed. “We bring along Gold Squadron and that Star Destroyer would be through. We all know there can’t be peace—not yet, and especially not after today.” He shot a look at Nareia who was just about to comment. “They hit our people and our facility, and we don’t get retribution. If Tyber Zann got wind of that he’d be knocking on our doors, too. Same goes for Xizor.”

“I’ll take the pirates and the underworld over another Super Star Destroyer. We were lucky on Endor—it took a sacrifice to bring one down, not superior numbers or firepower.” Nareia could still hear Arvel Crynyd’s last moments before he collided with the bridge, ending the threat of Vader’s personal flagship once and for all. “We’re not solving anything like this. We’re stuck speculating and stuck feeling unwanted. We should unwind.”

“You know where to find me,” Kyrin said, tapping Rayce on the shoulder and nodding towards the cantina. “You up for some drinks?”

Rayce nodded. “Right behind you,” he mumbled, exchanging one last look between Nareia and Alara before joining him.

Watching as the two men trotted off to drink their frustrations away and undoubtedly tell the men inside what transpired, Nareia sighed between her teeth before glancing back to Alara. “You?”

“I’ve got a book to finish reading.”

“And I’ve got some fellow pilots to reach out to about all this,” Nareia said, a Sullustan, a Twi’lek, and an aged veteran coming to mind. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!” Alara smiled despite everything and bid Nareia farewell, who turned away and headed for another hangar nearby.

Left alone with only her droid, Alara patted ZeeZee on his dome and started making her way back to her bunk. Before she took several steps, she stopped and turned once again towards the Jedi Temple in the distance. All this speculation made her curious; she debated on going out there and learning more about their order. Maybe her idea about the Jedi was all wrong—maybe the others were, too. But the military matters were usually best left to Nareia.

For her, maybe a little reaching out into the Jedi Temple was her next best step. Learning more about wroshyr trees and Wookiee culture could wait, at least for a few hours more.

R6-Z6 tweeted beside her, rocking from leg to leg impatiently. “Come on,” she said, turning and making her way towards a pilot nearby a speeder, intent on asking one favor out of two.

~-~-~-~-~-~


Yavin IV
The Jedi Temple


Reaching out via a long-range link between her comlink and Wedge’s, Alara requested that he grant her permission to enter the Jedi Temple. Her interest in the Jedi’s library was boundless, and given she was almost always pulled out of some sort of datapad whenever he ran into her, the veteran pilot had no reason to doubt this. It was the truth, well, half of one. If she were to find a Jedi or two inside, she would pick their brain a little bit. She and the rest of Rogue Group—bar Wedge—only knew Luke from stories. He was once just like them; a pilot who wanted to do good, and to fight against the Empire’s tyranny. His destiny called him elsewhere, leaving Wedge to try and continue what they both started years ago.

She managed to ask a speeder pilot to drop both herself and Zee at the temple, and he agreed to wait a while for her to emerge. It turned out he had a friend who was on guard duty that same day, and an excuse to leave the base for a while and chat with a friend was hardly necessary. Plus, he was kind of into her. That helps, too.

“Excuse me—” Alara started but paused, staring at an opened palm instead.

“Alara, right?” the guard asked. “We got the go ahead already. You’re clear to enter.”

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, nearly bouncing on her toes before heading inside with R6-Z6 following close behind her, only to quickly realize that she needed a map of some kind to find her way.

There were no strategically placed signs to tell her where to go, and there were no Jedi tour guides available—not that this was a tour at all—to help her find her way. Deciding it best not to take away one of the guards from their post to help her find the library, she chose to explore it and directed R6-Z6 to try and create a map via scans and the path she herself was taking.

It took her several minutes before she managed to find any sign of life within. The sound of something metallic being battered lured her away from her current path, and the closer she came to the sound, the more anxious she grew.

Finally, she peered inside the doorway to spot a tall—and familiar—person punching away at a stationary droid. Zee creeped up beside her and angled himself just enough to look past Alara with a single dark eye spotting the brutality of a droid being assaulted by an organic.

Outraged, Zee looked to Alara, then back to Lahana. He ejected a stun rod from one of its many panels, daring to give that beast of an organic a real opponent.

“Shh, no!” Alara whispered without looking at Zee, as if sensing his frustration. “Just follow my lead—and be nice.”

Zee rotated his dome left and right before chirping quietly. No promises.

Alara gave her droid another pat on his dome before she entered inside, walking as quietly as she could. “Excuse me,” she tried saying only to discover her throat was dry. She swallowed before trying to continue. “Excuse me!” A little louder this time, she hoped Lahana wouldn’t yell at her for her interruption. “Lahana?”

Zee came up beside her, stun rod still drawn. If Lahana continued to harm a fellow droid, insults would be exchanged, and perhaps a stun rod jabbed in her leg.
Yavin IV,
New Republic Citadel


~-~-~-~-~-~


Witnessing firsthand how fractured High Command was becoming had hit Nareia much harder than she believed possible. She heard the rumors; Mon Mothma’s belief in a peaceful solution was respectable, to say the least, but Garm’s pursuit for absolute victory resonated with her more—as it should with anyone who has fought and bled for the Rebel Alliance. Though she tried to sympathize with the Chancellor’s position, Nareia couldn’t find it in her to take her side on the matter. The Imperial Remnant was a threat not only to them, but to every civilized world that had the courage to defy them. That didn’t change with the victory at Endor.

The meeting abruptly concluded, and she could breathe again. For a moment there, she thought Garm insane enough to separate himself from the New Republic and form his own splinter group. There was enough restlessness in the hangar bays and the barracks to create a sizable attack force, but the resulting recruitment could cause a minor civil war. Garm was a courageous man with many years of tactical experience under his belt. Men and women from all branches of the New Republic’s fighting forces respected him—herself included. If anyone could lead the New Republic to victory, it was him.

“You think he’ll do it?”

Nareia glanced at the man close beside her, shoulder-to-shoulder. “No.”

Rayce gave her a slight nod before peering down at the emptying chamber. The collection of men and women around them were quick to depart and debate among themselves. By trying to cut the conversation short, Mon Mothma only succeeded in starting more. Garm would almost assuredly pull more support between them. If that were to happen…

“I can see why Wedge doesn’t attend these meetings often,” she said softly, her voice barely audible even to Rayce. “If we can’t fight the Empire then we’re just fighting each other. Everyone’s on edge. Sooner or later, people might—"

“Rebel?” Rayce joked somberly. “But you’re right. And if that were to happen, and the Remnant makes a move, the New Republic might collapse before it’s fully risen.”

Nareia drifted from the balcony’s edge and turned away, Rayce instinctively following close beside her. The pair shuffled out of the building together and exchanged pleasantries with the others. None dare bring up the meeting just yet. There would be talk of it later tonight and undoubtedly over a game of pazaak; whiskey was included; rum, too. Whatever Kyrin brought to the table, it wouldn’t leave unless it was emptied.

“I don’t know about Ackbar, but Dodonna and Madine have gotta be itching to end this.” Nareia continued once out of earshot of others. “We’ve got Alara doing patrols with Marvo and Noob wherever she can. Kyrin, well, if there’s a good cantina involved, he’ll be sure to patrol that sector. And Wedge might be looking to add some newer blood.”

“Not much point. We’re grounded.” Rayce shook his head before looking skyward; a pair of X-wings were returning to the Massassi Temple nearby. Another patrol, waiting for anything. “If General Iblis finds something for us to hit, what are you thinking?”

“You mean what side I’m on?” Nareia turned to Rayce while keeping step. “The Remnant can’t be allowed to regain strength; every day we waste here while Mon Mothma tries to find a peaceful solution, they’re rebuilding warships and conscripting more soldiers. Rogue Squadron isn’t the only battle group wasting away out here.”

Rayce nodded thoughtfully. “Kyrin’s been itching to do something bold. Alara’s the complete opposite; she’s content learning the B-wing for now.”

“Gold Squadron.” Nareia reflected on the unit’s skill with bombers; they agreed to take Alara out earlier that morning. “She’s in good hands.”

The two continued their trek across the temple grounds and passed multiple craft; fighters, freighters, and supply ships sat idle. Like the pilots that handled them, these ships—resources for war, and for liberation—wasted away. It pained her to see the New Republic she fought for be in such a sad state.

Entering the hangar bay of Rogue Squadron, Nareia and Rayce cast eyes on their own idle ships, well maintained and in prime condition, before continuing forward. After several addresses between those they knew, the duo approached Wedge Antilles.

“It went just as you thought it would,” Nareia started, “and just like you thought, Mon Mothma and Garm still can’t come to an agreement. We’re stuck here for the foreseeable future.”

“There has to be something for us by now, Wedge.” Rayce’s voice filled with hope. “We all know this isn’t over. Any word from our spies? Anything at all?”
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