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I Remember Me


Lesaberisa

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It was hard to read Jorgan’s magazine with my hands shaking the way they were, but I did the best I could, same as always. I briefly contemplated getting ahold of Rissa or Drav, just to talk about things, but I decided against it given my present condition. The bottle of whiskey was better company, anyway – didn’t talk too much and wasn’t likely to ask any uncomfortable questions I either didn’t have the answers to or wouldn’t want to answer even if I did. Only problem was that a single bottle cost damn near half of a week’s pay, but I could figure out a way around that too.

 

I wasn’t too surprised when Fillo was the first thing to pop into my head after I went to sleep; even in death, there was likely nothing he’d rather do than make my life as miserable as possible. I wondered how I had missed it for all those years – he couldn’t have been that good at hiding his true nature, and yet I had never even suspected anything. He had been a friendly neighbor and mayor, and then a close family friend – he’d been there at our best days and also on our worst. He’d also been there the day the Jedi had come for Pa, the day they’d needed him for ‘one last mission’. A mission he’d never returned from…perhaps I should have realized then.

 

Mostly, I wondered if Fillo was burning in whatever hell the Maker had sent him to. I hoped he was suffering even more than just that.

 

We jumped out of lightspeed a half hour away from the ship Intelligence had helpfully labeled as ‘Tavus’ Ship’; I really had to hand it to the SIS when it came to creativity. According to Garza, reliable sources had placed Tavus on the ship, though I couldn’t imagine how they could have come by that information on short notice. Something still didn’t feel quite right, and for once it wasn’t all the Rodian food I’d had back on Nar Shaddaa. The rest of the squad was uneasy too – Jorgan grinding his teeth, Elara absentmindedly arranging and rearranging loose hairs and Forex shuffling on what passed for its feet. We all suspected the same thing, but we couldn’t afford to operate afraid. We had a job to do as soldiers of the Republic.

 

The ship was a standard issue bulk cruiser, which would fit Tavus’ MO perfectly – low-profile and easy to overlook. Of course, if someone was setting us up, it’d be the perfect way to make it seem/i] like Tavus was on board, or at least involved, as well. No matter, we’d find out one way or another soon enough. Scans showed that there were life forms on board the cruiser, but some kind of interference was keeping us from getting any kind of definitive results; troublesome, but nothing we hadn’t overcome in the past. I took a deep breath. You’re ready for this. Everyone is.

 

I had Forex take the lead as we boarded Tavus’ ship; better for his armored frame to take the initial hits rather than my slightly less impenetrable armor. We weren’t greeted by any shots, though, just eerie silence and an empty airlock that looked like it hadn’t been touched since the day the ship first left whatever shipyards had constructed it. The hairs on the back of my neck were fully raised now; no one was that compulsive about keeping things in order, not even Elara. The readings on my scanners were off the charts too – the interference the Thunderclap’s sensors had run into had been increased by several degrees. Whatever was waiting for wasn’t Tavus, and it wasn’t going to be anything good.

 

“Jorgan – head back to the ship. You’ve got the most flight experience and we may need to make a quick getaway. Entire thing reeks of a trap.” I was relieved when he nodded sharply and immediately turned back to the airlock; I had neither the time nor inclination to fight about it. I hated to lose Jorgan’s firepower if there was a fight ahead of us, but if things got nasty, I wanted to know we might have a shot of getting off the ship. And it’s not as if he’s any happier about it, either. I turned to the droid next. “Forex, you’ll have to proceed to the auxiliary entrance on your own. I don’t want any heroics. I don’t want any surprises. Monitor enemy movements and keep us apprised of any changes in the situation.”

 

The droid nodded enthusiastically. “Affirmative, Sir! I eagerly look forward to bringing righteous justice to the Imperial vermin that must surely infest this ship. Why, my very circuits spark at –“

 

I covered its “mouth” with my hand, trying my best to ignore Elara’s muffled laughter over the comm. “That’s great, Forex, but let’s just worry about completing the mission and getting home in one piece, first. We can plan our future heroics later, I think.” I removed my hand from its face and gave what would have been an encouraging slap on the shoulder had Forex been humanoid. “The SIS reported that they suspected Tavus had stolen Republic equipment on board, so we’ll start by sweeping the cargo bay and move on from there. Our first priority is preserving unit integrity though.”

 

Forex nodded and shuffled off down the starboard corridor, leaving Elara and me standing just outside of the airlock. “I have every confidence in your plan, Sir. We will either have Tavus in custody or strike a major blow against his operation, I am sure.” Elara’s voice was normal and her words pleasant, but I detected a slight undercurrent of…something. Something I didn’t like, or didn’t think I liked, at least. I filed it away as something to talk about with her later, when things were less hairy.

 

We moved further into the ship, out of the exterior docking area and toward the main cargo holding stations. I was getting some kind of anomalous reading from the main cargo bay that I wanted to investigate more closely – if Tavus had something special cooked up for us or whatever force the Republic sent, I had a suspicion it would be there.

 

Elara and I were halfway down the main cargo access hallway when the entire ship suddenly shuddered and the lights went out. I was pondering calling for Forex to meet us back at the ship when the lights flickered back on just as randomly as they had went out, only this time there was a maze of what looked like finely tuned lasers blocking our way forward. I sighed heavily into the comm despite trying my best to remain calm.

 

“A maze of killer lasers? Who even does that?” I threw my arms up; apparently Tavus had seen one too many cheesy old spy holos. I was about to continue my rant, but Elara cleared her throat loudly. I refocused myself and looked more closely at the devices that were powering the maze. It took only a few moments of study to find the weak point in the system, which was self-powered. A mistake. Ninety seconds later, the hallway was clear again – the two of us hoofed it the rest of the way to get to the main entrance to the cargo bay; there was no need to tempt fate any further.

 

The bay was almost entirely empty except for a few randomly placed cargo containers and some kind of device in the center that had power cords coming in and out of it in a way that reminded me of the human cardiovascular system. Neither Elara nor I could recognize the design, though, and Forex only offered more vaguely comprehensible Republic propaganda. I uploaded some images and video to Jorgan back on the Thunderclap, but he was no help either and ended up simply forwarding the information on to headquarters for Garza’s staff to look at.

 

There were computer consoles arrayed along the room’s walls as well, but nothing else that stood out. Most importantly, there was no sign of Tavus or any of his people.

 

“Sir, that console over there appears to be activated.”

 

Elara was right – one of the consoles on the far wall had suddenly come alive with light as various panels began displaying data, too quickly for me to recognize or make sense out of. We edged closer to it, cautiously in case this was another of Tavus games. When we got within ten feet of the machinery, the flashing stopped and the holo-transmitter activated, revealing a familiar face.

 

“Sergeant Martell, I have to say I’m honored Garza would send her attempt at making another Havoc after me. I had no idea she was that desperate to bring me into custody.” Tavus folded his arms across his chest. “Or were you sent to kill me, silence me before I could reveal what I know about Garza’s games.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t recognize your companion – I don’t suppose that’s Lieutenant Jorgan, is it?”

 

I was fortunate enough to control myself before I spat at him, seeing as spitting while wearing a helmet tended to not work too well. “She’s a finer soldier than you ever were, traitor.”

 

Tavus cleared his throat before responding. “I wanted to give you a chance to fight for your life before my new associates killed you. You deserve that much.”

 

My temper flared, now fully out of control. “Your new Imperial associates, you spineless coward. I taught your mad scientist a lesson on Taris, I’ll teach these bastards one, too. I ain’t afraid of any Imperial goons you’ve sent after us.” I tapped the comm twice, to let Jorgan and Forex know to expect trouble. “Doesn’t surprise me that you were too scared to be here in person. Must have taken up what little nerve you had left to join the Empire, old man.”

 

He flushed and visibly lost his composure, pointing a finger in my direction. “You don’t understand a damn thing, Sergeant. You weren’t there on Ando Prime, you weren’t there fighting in the trenches for the Republic, only to have them stab us in the back.”

 

I laughed at him, enjoying it as his face turned a shade of purple. “I understand that you’re a gutless coward and that you’ve already forgotten how to read Republic ranks. It’s Lieutenant Martell, and you’re next on my lists after I deal with your Imperial friends.”

 

Tavus’ voice had a hint of smug derision to it when he responded. “Unlikely. You are about to meet the Shadow Fist, who fought my Havoc Squad to a standstill so many times in the past. You haven’t got a chance.” I was pleased to hear the note of anger in his voice, less so when I couldn’t get through to Forex over the comm. I hoped that it was merely a malfunction.

 

Two doors on either side of the room opened in unison and I managed to catch a glimpse of people slipping into the bay as the lights cut out. I managed to alert Jorgan before I forcibly shoved Elara behind a crate for cover. I was already breathing heavily, though I tried to tell myself it was just the heavy breakfast I’d had rather than genuine fear.

 

Two, three shots flashed passed my head, burying themselves in wall and leaving scorch marks alongside the holes. Judging from the angles there were probably at least six of the Imperials out there, unless they’d radically altered their tactical procedures. Probably a double squad given Tavus’ comments, which meant up to sixteen total; I barked out another warning to Forex and then shifted to a direct comm with Elara.

 

“We’ve got to clear out the ones to our left quickly, before the can draw the net in over us. Keep me covered, I’ll handle it.” She nodded, though I noticed she was paying more attention to her kolto probes than her pistol. Oh, ye of little faith.

 

I pushed away from the crate, staying hunched over and close to the ground. I heard Elara’s pistol discharging, followed by some heartwarming yelling from a couple of the Imperials. They’re good, but not good enough. Just have to get the odds more in our favor. More shots rang out, this time also from the Imperials, which lit up the room just enough for me to make my move.

 

The first Imperial had no idea I was there, possibly never knew until I fired the shot to his head that ended his life; I winced slightly at the smoke rising from his helmet. His partner was still spinning to face me when I took her out with a couple of rifle bursts. She fell silently to the ground as the sound of the shots echoed through the bay. I head Elara firing again; it sounded like she hit something, but it also sounded like the shots were being fired over shorter distances. They were closing in; I wasn’t moving fast enough.

 

Maker be damned, you are not going to let anything happen to your squad. Move your ***, you worthless piece of crap.

 

The next pair were even easier to take down, since they were providing covering fire of their own for their compatriots that were advancing on Elara. I wasn’t going to let them continue, wasn’t going to let them hurt her. I clubbed the closer of the two over the head with the butt of my rifle and turned his scream into gurgling wetness with a slash from my combat knife. The second Imperial commando was faster to react, but I was too close for him to swing his rifle into position, so he dropped it and started to pull his pistol from its holster.

 

I stepped toward him, closing the remaining distance in the span of a breath, and grabbed him roughly around the wrist. He depressed the trigger, but my grip was too strong, and the shots went flying off past my shoulder. Recognizing the hopelessness of the situation, he knelt slightly and tried to shift his weight to throw me off balance. I grunted as I exerted from the effort of staying on my feet, but I managed to keep his wrists within my grasp. More shots rang out in the background. You have to end this.

 

So, I did. I twisted his wrist with a sharp move. The Imperial cried out in pain and dropped his gun; I took full advantage and threw him against the nearby cargo container. As he staggered around from the impact, I drew my pistol and fired twice into his helmet. He fell without a sound.

 

The rate of fire from the rest of the cargo bay had slowed down considerably I tried not to think too much about what they might mean. I cut down another commando as I dashed back toward Elara, firing two shots into his back, and finishing him off with a shot to the face as I ran past his falling body. I kept running, trying not to let my rising panic at the utter silence in the room distract me. There was another Imperial lying face down halfway to Elara, a second was sprawled over some boxed with two smoking holes in his chest.

 

I caught up to the last one as he closed in on Elara. He was wearing some ornamented armor, some kind of frilly design that marked him as the unit’s commander. Elara was down on the ground, looked like she’d taken a hit to the side based on the dark crease in her armor, and her pistol lay several feet out of range. I didn’t need any more motivation than that.

 

Somehow, the man heard my soft footsteps. He managed to roll out of the way of my first two shots, but I kept closing the distance. My third shot caught him high in the chest, but somehow didn’t do any kind of lasting damage. Some kind of special armor. Damn it. He finally had his chance to fire, but he merely winged a shot past my helmet and missed completely with his second as I closed in. We grappled on the ground for what felt like forever. As we fought, the Imperial’s helmet slipped off, revealing the middle-aged face of someone that might have been an ordinary man but instead decided to serve monsters.

 

“Sir?”

 

Elara’s voice sounded weak over the comm and made my mind up for me more easily than anything else could. I shrugged off a weak punch aimed at my head and caught him flush in the face with an elbow that left him groggy as hell, flat on the floor. Before he could react, I slipped my knife back out and stabbed him through the throat. “You. Will. Not. Hurt. Her!" Somoene screamed at the Imperial, I wasn’t sure who. I stabbed him again, just to be safe.

 

“Sir?”

 

Wake up, idiot. Elara needs you.

 

I cleaned my knife off as best I could and sprinted over to her, trying to ignore the faint burning smell that seemed to be coming from her armor. She was sitting up, braced against a cargo container. I slipped an arm behind her back and gently cradled her. “Elara, Elara can you hear me?” When she didn’t respond immediately, I felt something gripping my intestines, twisting them into a knot. “Elara, don’t do this to me. You can’t do this to me.” I shifted my weight slightly, and softened my voice. “C’mon Elara, who’s going to do all the paperwork for me if you’re holed up in the hospital, Jorgan?”

 

That seemed to jolt her a bit, as she moved slightly in my arms. “Sir, I do not believe the wound is severe, but it feels as if there is a piece of my armor twisted into it. We’ll need to get back to the ship so that either you or Jorgan can perform the necessary work to remove it.” I tried not to notice when she rested a hand against my armored chest as I lifted her up, and tried not to feel good about the way she felt against me as we made our way out of the room..

 

Everyone was a bit subdued when we returned to the ship, other than Forex, who spent the better part of half an hour discussing his – its – heroic fight against the rest of the Imperial squad. Jorgan was assisting Elara with the minor operation on her wound, which left me to report in to Garza, who seemed more interested in Tavus than the health of my squad. It took all the patience I had not to snap as she asked a billion questions about what color Tavus’ nose hair had been and not a single one about the people who’d put their lives on the line to be there.

 

Fortunately, the conversation was shorter than most, and I was left to my thoughts and the bottle of Alderaanian brandy I’d acquired – we had a day to recuperate before we were supposed to head to a place called Tatooine, and I planned to use it.

 

I was so engrossed in catching up on the latest in the Galactic Huttball League that I didn’t hear Elara enter my cabin. I didn’t hear her stand at attention, either, but I somehow felt her there anyway. I sprang from my chair, smoothly knocking the bottle of alcohol over. We both watched in stupefied silence as it rolled off the table and crashed to the floor, spilling what remained of its contents all over.

 

“I, I didn’t hear you come in El-Sergeant. I trust our resident grumpy Cathar took care of your wound?”

 

Elara snickered but nodded. “I must thank you for saving me – I am not sure what would have happened otherwise.”

 

“Me neither.” Truth be told, I didn’t want to think or talk about it, the thought of losing her was overwhelming enough as it was. Of losing anyone, not just her, of course. “You’ll be mission-ready going forward?”

 

She took a step forward and nodded. “The wound was more painful than it was deep or serious. I will be fully operational by tomorrow.”

 

Stars, she smells nice.

 

Elara looked real nice too, wearing the thin shirt and athletic pants that most of us had on while relaxing off-duty. It took all of my self-control not to look too closely or admiringly at her, even as I took in her scent – something fruity but not overwhelmingly so. It was feeling kind of hot too, enough so that I could feel some sweat pouring down my neck and soaking the back of my shirt. I decided I was more comfortable facing an Imperial firing squad than Elara Dorne.

 

“Um, so that’s good to hear. You scared me there, Elara, scared me pretty bad.” I shifted my weight against my right leg, bracing myself against the desk. “I meant what I said about the paperwork. Stuff’s beyond me and Jorgan. Life would be pretty scary without you.”

 

She smiled brightly. “I’m well aware of that, Sir. In any case, I merely wished to report on my condition." We had another of those awkward silences that made me wish I could crawl into a hole and die. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you be to your mysterious activities.”

 

There were about a million things I wanted to tell her, but I was still that coward deep down, and I just shook my head and smiled. When she left and the door was safely locked, I punished myself appropriately for my failure, slamming my head against the desk three or four times.

 

After the dizziness wore off, I fired off a message to Uncle Demetrius to let him know about Fillo. He must have already known, but I wanted the old bastard to know I’d done it, that I’d proven I could do what was necessary no matter how much he had doubted me. I was just about to log off the system and head to bed when I got an incoming call from Dravis. He looked tired, worn-out, the same way Balkar had looked on Nar Shaddaa.

 

“Ayrs, how are you?” His words were friendly but Drav never called me anything but ‘chum’ unless something was wrong.

 

“Fine, Drav, bit tired. Long mission, can’t really talk about it, but…”

 

He frowned slightly. “Yeah, I hear you. You just got off Nar Shaddaa, didn’t you?”

 

“Yep.” I spoke slowly, deliberately. “We did some good work there with the help of your friend Jonas Balkar.”

 

Drav didn’t smile. In fact, he hadn’t smiled the entire time. “Funny thing is, Fillo MacTyre was on Nar Shaddaa at the same time. Died there too.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Pretty strange, huh?”

 

I was standing on the precipice of disaster. But, no matter how good a friend Drav was, I had to pull myself back. “I wish I’d been there to pull the trigger myself. Bastard won’t ever get what’s coming to him now. Who did it?” I clenched my fists.

 

My friend eyed me suspiciously for a moment. “We don’t know, not yet at least. Imps are crawling over the place. Word has it they even sent a Sith Lord in to investigate.”

 

I hoped like hell that Drav couldn’t see me sweating over the holo. “You find anything else out, let me know Drav. I’d…I’d like to know anything I can. I’m sure the bastards back on Kuat that I’m related to would as well.”

 

The old Drav reappeared for a moment with a swaggering grin. “I bet they would, chum. You take care of that sergeant of yours though.” He winked and hung up before I could un-swallow my tongue.

 

The room was silent, finally, as I sat there, my toes just reaching the puddle of brandy that had started to stink the place up. It’d been a long few days, and I couldn’t imagine things getting any easier, but I figured my luck had to turn around at some point. Then I remembered that I now had two talking droids to go with Jorgan and I felt all terrible again.

 

I decided to clean up the next morning, and went to bed dreaming up new terrible deaths for Fillo MacTyre. In some of the dreams, the more pleasant ones, I killed the protocol droid too.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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The next night, as we traveled to Tatooine, I dreamed of home again.

 

It was Life Day, the first one after…after we lost Pop to whatever mission his Jedi friends had needed him for; we would never learn where it had been or what he had been doing. The celebrations had been far more subdued than usual, though Mom had tried her best to keep everyone’s spirits up with extra presents and a rum cake. Neither helped, really, but we muddled our way through the routine as best we could. Just before lunch, the door chimed as our first guest arrived – Fillo MacTyre. He handed presents to the four of us kids and gave Mom a hug, smiling apologetically after he caught me glaring at him.

 

“I have so much planned for you,” he had told us. “So much to look forward to.”

 

I woke up with a roar, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Karking bastard was still a pain in the *** even now. Glancing at my chrono revealed it was earlier than I’d have liked to get up by, but no matter how hard I tried, he kept returning to me every time I tried to get back to sleep. I accepted defeat, and slid the covers off, shivering as the cold air in the Thunderclap hit me full force. Time to wear something more than boxers to bed, I guess. I stood in front of the mirror for a minute, tracing the scars and lines that marked my years like a tree’s rings did.

 

With nothing else to do but sulk in my room, I slipped a shirt and pants on, and made my way toward the mess. One good thing about being up this early was that I’d have first crack at any of the pancakes we had left, or else Jorgan would finish them off. My mouth was watering as I turned the last corner and found the room empty; a quick check of the freezer revealed that my prize awaited me. I tore through the packaging and plopped the pancakes on the pan, carefully heating up the stove as I did so. It took longer than I expected, but every moment was enjoyable simply because of the anticipation.

 

There was a lovely hiss as the cooking began, loud enough that I didn’t hear the footsteps of impending doom.

 

“Sir, are you alright?” I’d been around Elara long enough to recognize the hidden depths to her speech, no matter how mild she sounded. “I thought I heard you call out.”

 

I narrowed my eyes slightly, processing everything at half speed; I wasn’t much of a morning person. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a bit hungry. Figured I’d get a crack at the pancakes before Jorgan got to them. I’ll need that special goodness before I call Garza, too. I figured I’d get off to a good start before I find out what we’ll be up to on this Tatooine place.” Apparently, I’d also figured I would make a fool of myself.

 

“You’ve been sweating, profusely.” Her gaze wasn’t entirely a medical one, though, which somehow made me feel even more uncomfortable. “And why are you talking like that?” She gave what almost appeared to be a mischievous smile. “Sir.”

 

“Talking like what? I’m just talking like I normally am.” Defense mechanisms shot into place, and I managed to shut up before I did any further damage.

 

“Sir, I’m just making sure that you’re not suffering from any medical problemss. Your wounds from Nar Shaddaa could have been far worse, and it is possible that you are experiencing the side effects of having had only a limited recovery period.” She inched closer, until she was only a few feet away from me, though she seemed strangely shy about looking directly at me. “Please, Sir, there’s no reason to be nervous about any medical condition you might be suffering from.”

 

It took a moment to process that, but that moment proved to be sufficient time to escalate matters alarmingly. I reached out with my hand to gently clasp Elara’s left shoulder, but instead found myself slightly off balance, and flailed wildly as I missed my target. Instead of my carefully planned movement, I found myself grasping Elara around the waist with both of my hands, involuntarily pulling her even closer as I struggled to regain my footing. The room was suddenly about a billion degrees warm, and I wondered how red my face was.

 

“Sir?” Elara sounded confused by – strangely – I couldn’t detect even a hint of a negative reaction. “Is…everything okay?” Suddenly, she seemed as flustered as I was. I decided that staring intently at the wall behind her would be a good way not to notice that she was a damn fine sight for someone who'd just woken up unexpectedly.

 

“Elara, I –“ You what, idiot? You have a schoolboy crush on her, which you won’t act on because it’s an awful thing to do to her just as things are going well for her?

 

I was still formulating my next poorly-thought out move when Forex came around the corner, far more stealthily than I would have imagined was possible for a massive war droid.

 

“Sir! It is good to see you this morning! I -.” The droid’s voice cut off as it took in the scene in front of it; I blushed more deeply and quickly released Elara from my grip, stepping backward as far as I could go until I ran myself painfully into the stove. Forex simply began retreating the way it came, shuffling backwards and muttering something about wartime morale. After a half-minute, my reprieve was over, and I found myself staring at a curious and confused Elara yet again. Kark.

 

“Yeah, I’m just fine Elara, trust me. I'm great. Really great. Just a lot of paperwork to do.” I cringed as the last words came out of my mouth without my brain’s approval.

 

“I don’t recall having any extra paperwork as of late, Sir. What do you mean?” If I hadn't known better, I would have thought her smile was almost smug.

 

“Uh, I’m going to head back to my cabin and catch a little more sleep while I can.” I did a graceful spin move around her and began speed-walking to my cabin.

 

“What about your pancakes, Sir? And General Garza’s briefing?”

 

“Garza can wait,” I replied – unconvincingly. “And the pancakes….are all yours.” Having learned nothing from the previous few minutes, I winked at her as my cabin’s door closed and then locked with a satisfying click.

 

I spent the next forty-five minutes recovering from the ordeal under a steady stream of cold water in my shower.

 

Garza’s briefing was a bit more awkward than usual; I was partially at fault due to constantly shuffling to ensure that at least one of Forex and Jorgan remained between me and Elara. My brilliant strategy was working, though, as it left he runnable to force me into an awkward situation.

 

“Lieutenant?” I shook my head and turned back to Garza’s holo. “Good to see you’re so intrigued by your mission parameters. Perhaps you would like to fill me and your squad in on what sort of strategic and tactical considerations you are pondering.”

 

I nervously fingered the collar of my shirt. “Uh, no Sir! Paying attention, Sir!” Jorgan gave me a side eye glance.

 

“Your contact will be a civilian – the Republic has no official jurisdiction on Coruscant, so we’ll make do with unofficial contacts. In this case, the civilian leader of Anchorhead, a Mayor Oleg Klerren. He was a merchant trader and pilot for many years – Republic aligned – and he provided a local Republic contact with some information that suggests your former squad mate Fuse may be on Tatooine.”

 

Hmm. “They caught sight of a rat-faced Zabrak running around the sand dunes?”

 

“No, Lieutenant.” Garza shook her head, as if in disbelief that I had said that. “Anchorhead has been hit by a series of bombs that bear a signature similar to a model that Sergeant Bazren was developing during his time in Havoc. You are to rendezvous with Mayor Klerren, gather any further intel you require, and report back to me for further consultation. If Fuse is on Tatooine, we will assess his operation and deal with it appropriately. If not, we have other assignments we can place Havoc on.”

 

My squad and I saluted as her holo faded, though I cut mine short by a second so I could get a head start toward my cabin before the rest could react.

 

We landed on Tatooine two hours later. Place was hot as hell, even with the air conditioning in our armor turned on. Forex got a few dirty looks from the locals, most of whom looked like criminals, but otherwise it looked like the weather was the worst of our problems for now. Not that that helped much when a bath in molten lava seemed like a preferable alternative to the blazing suns and heat. Nobody said much as we trudged to the mayor’s office, but I imagined they were all as displeased with the weather as I was.

 

Klerren turned out to be a real good guy for a politician – it was obvious he’d spent time living and working with real people, not just campaigning for office on the back of a large inherited fortune and a fancy name. Hell, he could have fit right in back home on Ithaca. Unfortunately, the information he had was a lot more unpleasant than he was.

 

“We don’t know who’s behind the attacks, but they’ve been increasing in intensity and frequency over the past week. I’ve tried to protect civilian areas with the militia, but they’re not equipped for dealing with these kinds of situations, and they’re also distracted by their concern for their own families and friends. I passed along the information I had to the local Republic representative – a man named Fauler – and eventually they told me that they were sending Havoc Squad to assist. I can’t deny I’m curious as to why they would send such a famous unit to a non-aligned world like Tatooine.” His eyes asked the question that he never voiced.

 

“We’re actually on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan, but decided to stop by to assist since we were in the area.”

 

Silence filled the room. I would never have guessed I would find myself in a situation even close to as awkward as things had been with Elara earlier that morning, but I found a way.

 

“Yes. Of course.” Klerren regarded me with a look that suggested I was slightly insane; Jorgan was doing the same, only his glare made it clear that he thought I was beyond merely ‘slightly’ crazy. “If you would like, I can provide you with the information – .“ He was cut off by the loud wail of an alarm going off, a blaring sound that reminded me of the air raid sirens that they used on Ithaca to run emergency drills. Klerren frantically tapped at the console on his desk. “They’re reporting a major blast in an apartment building several blocks from here. If you hurry, maybe you can find something.”

 

“Or help the victims,” I noted as I popped my helmet back on.

 

The rest of the squad filed in behind me as I moved swiftly out of the office and building, heading in the direction of the apartment complex that had been hit. Even if he hadn’t plotted the location on our map, though, the thick plume of black smoke made our destination all too obvious. I grimaced thinking about the kind of casualties we’d likely be encountering with explosives of that magnitude, hoping I’d be proven wrong once we arrived.

 

Unfortunately, I wasn’t – there were mutilated bodies strewn about the complex, parts of bodies, blood everywhere. I wondered if Ithaca had looked like this, then angrily pushed that thought aside – these people were counting on me to help them, not wallow in selfish self-pity over a world I couldn’t save. They all seemed to stop and stare as we entered the area, though I wasn't completely sure why.

 

I pushed past a small group of militia soldiers checking on a survivor and made my way to what had been the grassy center of the apartment complex, now a horror show brought to life. A young woman with what looked like a serious wound to her abdomen waved me over; I obliged, and Elara followed to begin taking a look at the injury.

 

“They, they came out of nowhere!” Her eyes would have been pretty had they not been so wide and glassy from the shock and pain.

 

I gripped her shoulder firmly but gently with my left hand as I turned her head to face me with my right. “Easy there, we’re going to get you patched up and back to normal in no time. Isn’t that right, Dorne?”

 

“Right as always, Sir!”

 

I bit my tongue trying to puzzle out the strange intonation of Elara’s voice, then focused on the woman again. “Who came from nowhere? Were they Imperials?”

 

Her eyes grew wider and uncontrollable fear replaced the pain as she looked over my shoulder. I turned my head, following her gaze, and found myself staring directly at a protocol droid with a blinking red light in its chassis. “Greetings citizens, we are here to help!” There were more of them around the complex, all with the same blinking light. Oh, kark. The bastards loaded them with explosives.

 

“Havoc, open fire on the droids. Take them out before they get to the civilians. Go, go, go!”

 

I winced at the woman’s reaction as we opened up – no doubt our fire reminded her of the explosive terror she had just experienced – but there was nothing we could do. Forex launched itself at a pair of the protocol droids, wiping them out with a single attack. Jorgan’s cannon ravaged several more, and even Elara picked off a pair. That left the rest to me, and that suited me just fine. I activated the hydraulics in my boots for a burst of speed and winged the first with my rifle. A sticky grenade tore the second apart and badly damaged its compatriot. I finished that one off with a flurry of shots from my gun, and destroyed the last droid with a pulse of ion energy.

 

Then, I took a breath and took stock of the situation. The squad was okay, and it looked like we’d kept the droids away from the civilians just fine, though the young woman was crying out until Elara got back to her. I bent over the charred remains of one of the droids, inspecting it to piece together anything I could about them before I reported back to Klerren and Garza. I didn’t recognize much of the circuitry but the explosives were definitely the work of someone that knew what they were doing, and it seemed unlikely that the Imperials had so many explosive experts around that they could afford to send one other than Fuse to a place like this.

 

Send him here so he could design bombs to kill innocent people. That piece of **** coward. I suddenly understood the stares from before.

 

I was still fuming when we got back to the mayor’s office, where he was already talking to Garza’s holo as we entered. They were engrossed in their conversation, so the four of us took up station by the door until Garza noticed we were there and signaled that information to Klerren.

 

“Lieutenant, any news on the explosives?”

 

Typical Garza, not giving a damn about the people so long as her missions are accomplished. “We saved what civilians we could, got the rest to medical care as well. The bombs were being transported within protocol droids, which explains how they were able to get into heavily populated areas without arousing suspicion.” I saw the mayor mouth bastards as I spoke. “The explosives are pretty sophisticated. Can’t say it’s Fuse with one hundred percent certainty, but I’d be shocked if it wasn’t him. I’m going to upload the data I pulled to you now.”

 

Garza nodded curtly. “Very well, Lieutenant. I will review the data and contact you with further instructions.” Then, before either the mayor or I could get a word in edgewise, she ended the call and faded away.

 

“Not much for socializing, is she?” Klerren grinned slightly. “Guess I can’t judge, I’m sure a Special Forces general has all sorts of crazy things going on.”

 

“That she does, mayor.” I was tempted to offer additional commentary on Garza, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor. “In the meantime, I’m going to find a place for my squad to bunk that isn’t our crappy ship, since we might be here for a while.”

 

“Sir, another call coming in.” Jorgan sounded almost excited, as if he knew whoever was calling would be someone interesting.

 

I’d just managed to turn back toward the projector when karking Fuse appeared, shimmering into view. He was still shuffling his feet nervously, still so scared of his own shadow that I wondered how he made it through each day. Bastard’s probably calling to gloat about his little show over at the residential complex.

 

“Uh, Lieutenant, hi.” Conversations with the Zabrak back on Ord Mantell had been painful enough, this was like pulling teeth. “I realize you probably aren’t…aren’t all that happy to hear from me. Not right now. Maybe not ever.”

 

“You’re damn right I’m not happy to hear from you. Why did you call anyway, Fuse, so you could gloat about the civilians you butchered a few blocks over? Hiding explosives in droids was a neat trick, what’s next, putting them in children’s toys and sending them to orphanages?” From Elara and the mayor’s reactions, I was talking too loudly, but

 

I didn’t really care. “I never figured you for such a gutless coward.”

 

Fuse flinched visibly at that last word, as if he was surprised and hurt someone would think that. He and Tavus are alike, too damn stupid to understand or accept the consequences of their actions. “N-no, Sir. Lieutenant. I never meant for that – I mean, that’s not what was supposed to happen.”

 

I cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. “Don’t call me Sir, you traitor. And don’t give me this “wasn’t meant to happen” ********. You wanted to impress your Imperial masters, so you decided to sic your fancy toys on a bunch of innocent civilians.” I bared my teeth at him. “You’ll be lucky to survive long enough to make it into Republic custody.”

 

Elara surreptitiously reached for my shoulder, but I shrugged her hand off.

 

The Zabrak had turned a pleasant shade of green. Good, I’m getting to him. “You don’t understand, it’s Colonel Gorik who’s sending the droids into Anchorhead. I tried to stop him, but he caught me and had me imprisoned until he gets the clearance from higher up to have me killed.”

 

I laughed harshly. “If that’s true, how are you talking to me right now?”

 

“I managed to hack into their communications network, but I don’t have much time.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Look, Lieutenant, I don’t blame you for hating me. Hell, I hate me a lot, too. I can never make things right, but I can at least try to do something right. I’m ready to face whatever fate is ahead of me, but I want to do what I can here, first.”

 

The room was silent for a while.

 

“Fine. Give me something concrete to prove you’re not just bull******** me.”

 

He pursed his lips and glanced off camera for a moment. “The Imperials are going to hit Outpost Largona with a two pronged attack, using some conscripted gangsters and Imperial troops out of uniform. The attack is scheduled to hit around 11 am local time.” Fused looked off camera again; I guessed his captors were closing in. “I have to go, but please believe me, Lieutenant. Let me do what little I can before…whatever happens, happens.”

 

I crossed my arms over my chest, but didn’t reply before his imaged faded and we were left with the mayor and a lot of unanswered and unanswerable questions.

 

“Should I know him?” Klerren’s voice was curious, not accusatory.

 

Jorgan shook his head silently, and I was forced to agree – Klerren seemed to be a solid guy, but we couldn’t be completely sure yet, and he was also a civilian. At least Balkar had been SIS.

 

“Afraid that’s classified right now, Mayor, but maybe I can shed a bit more light on it after the next time I speak to General Garza.” I flashed him an apologetic smile. “Just think of it this way – we might have just scored a huge break in ending the threat to your people if his information checks out.”

 

“And if it doesn’t?”

 

I let Jorgan answer by making a slashing gesture across his throat.

 

Klerren paled slightly. ”I…I see. Well, for his sake I hope the information is correct, then.”

 

“So do I.” Weird thing is, I think I meant it.

 

After we finished with the formalities, the mayor helpfully pointed us to where Republic Representative Fauler spent most of his time, a nondescript building in northeastern Anchorhead that had once been used for cargo storage. Klerren seemed convinced Fauler was nothing more than a minor Republic diplomat assigned to this dump of a world as punishment for some offense, but somehow I suspected there was a good deal more to the man than that – anyone with his grasp of military contingencies was more likely to be something other than a diplomat, probably SIS if I had to guess.

 

Fauler’s place was easy enough to find, right past a cantina that Jorgan and I both took careful note of. It did take forever to get down to the main level, though, thanks to the interminable wait for the elevator, which moved stupidly slow itself. I made a mental note to mention it in the suggestions box back at the Senate tower on Coruscant. I did notice the motion detectors, advanced security system and pair of dead guards, though – we were armed and prepped for action by the time the elevator reached our destination.

 

Forex took point, but we realized we’d missed the action after a few moments when a dark-skinned man – Fauler, as it turned out – jauntily walked over to greet us.

 

“I’m Fauler, SIS. If I’d known Havoc Squad was going to be passing by, I’d have saved my job for you.”

 

I slipped my helmet off – people seemed to be discomfited by talking to me when I was wearing one – and cocked an eyebrow. “Job?”

 

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, Czerka Corporation has something big going on out in the desert, something scary. Ended up hiring an independent contractor to help me out instead.”

 

“Independent contractor? You mean bounty hunter?” I covered my face in the palm of my hand. “If this is such a big threat, why didn’t you call for official backup?”

 

“Not a bounty hunter, a smuggler.” Fauler winced. “As for going through channels…I didn’t know if it would get here in time, and I can’t be sure we haven’t been compromised either. Now that I know you’re here, I’ll keep you in the loop. She seemed more than capable, but it’s always nice to have an extra pair of hands to help.” He surveyed my squad. “Or three pairs.” His eyes shifted to Forex. “Uh and a droid.”

 

I heard Jorgan sigh loudly and decided to beat a hasty retreat before things got any weirder. We had a lot to do - the liquor at the cantina wouldn’t drink itself.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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Ayrs is genre-savvy! ;)

 

Minor note: My smuggler appears, but no in-game spoilers other than companions.

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The Imperials hit Outpost Largona the next day, just like Fuse had said. I still wasn’t entirely sure if we could trust him – it would hardly be surprising if the local Imperial commander was willing to throw away troops to set us up with the false hope of inside help – but it was a start. I couldn’t help but be more polite the next time the Zabrak called into Klerren’s office, no matter how hard I tried to keep that scowl plastered on.

 

“ Fuse, good to see you; you’re looking well for a double agent.” I smirked as he flushed and started muttering something under his breath. “We managed to surprise the Imperials at the outpost, had to call in some extra units though. They onto you at all?”

 

“No, no. At least I don’t think so, Lieutenant.” He paused, scratching the back of his head, and glancing furtively over his shoulder. “Why? Did you hear that my cover was blown?”

 

It took all of my self-control to keep from face-palming at him. I wasn’t sure how well the kid would hold up under the pressure of feeding us info behind the Imperials’ back – as time went on, I was becoming more and more convinced that he probably scared himself half to death just looking in the mirror to get ready every day. I hadn’t seen anyone that skittish since I told Jorgan I wanted to get a dog for the ship.

 

“Easy there, Fuse. It was just a question; as far as we know you’re still clear. And we’ll be sure to have you back in Republic custody before that changes.” Republic custody, nice euphemism for Republic stuncuffs. “Is there anything you can tell us about the explosives this Colonel Gorik is putting in the droids? Specifically, anything we can do to pre-emptively detect them before they’re blowing up civilians?”

 

Fuse was silent for what felt like forever, but the awkward look on his face told me all he needed to – someone was going to overhear what we didn’t want them to if the Zabrak kept talking. I stood in place, patiently waiting for him to find a safe moment to speak again, passing the time by staring blankly at the wall anywhere in the room except in the direction of Elara or Jorgan. When the excitement from that wore off, I began reminiscing about the spy holovids I used to watch, only I was there instead of their respective main characters and suddenly Elara was there in that dress she had worn on Nar Shaddaa…

 

“Um, Lieutenant? It’s safe to speak now.”

 

“Of course, Fuse. Uh, carry on.” I rubbed the back of my neck carefully, just to let everyone know I had developed a life-threatening crick in it.

 

“Unfortunately, there isn’t any tell-tale sign of radiation or other materials, that’s how Garza wanted them designed. So the Republic could strike against Imperial targets without warning, particularly in cases where we were fighting a guerilla style conflict.” Fuse shrugged helplessly. “I did manage to hack into the colonel’s secure files long enough to find the location of his safe house. It doesn’t have everything of value, but he keeps the vast majority of his materials at that location. If you could take it out, it would dramatically affect his ability to continue these tests. Might even convince him to pull the plug on the entire program.”

 

That sounded all well and good, but it wasn’t exactly the ideal solution. “That doesn’t help us if he simply goes off world to test these and other explosives there – we’d have to start all over again, only without the element of surprise or any of the intel that got us to where we are now. We need to clean house right here, right now.” I let that sink in for a moment. “We need the location of Gorik’s HQ, so we can blow the entire operation.”

 

I’d hoped to inspire agreement from Fuse, but he merely shook his head nervously. “I wish it were that easy, Lieutenant, but it’s not. Not by a longshot.” He furrowed his brow as he suddenly concentrated all of his attention on what he was saying. “Gorik’s careful – in addition to having me confined to quarters, he’s kept his system clear of any useful information about our exact whereabouts – I’ve been trying to break through his security systems, but I haven’t had much luck. At least if you hit his safe house you’ll do some real, tangible, damage to his organization though, and maybe I can figure something out while you do.” Fuse awkwardly looked at each of my squad’s members in turn. “If you put everything into discovering the Colonel’s main base, you might end up with nothing.”

 

“And if we hit the safe house, Gorik may realize what you’re up to and keep you from ever giving us the information we need.” For once, it was hard to read Jorgan’s voice as he spoke – I would have thought he would be glad to be rid of Fuse either way, but he didn’t sound too happy as he described the traitor’s possible death. “Fat lot of good that would do us.”

 

I nodded along. “Jorgan’s right. We’re taking a bit risk either way, but if you get caught...” My voice trailed off as I tried to figure out what that would actually make me feel like. “If you get caught, there is no backup. There is no rescue.” I took a breath. “If we play this hand, we’re stuck with it – no going back. Gorik seems like the kind of guy that’s not going to miss the fact that he had his attack on Largona stopped and then had his safe house of supplies taken out. It’s only natural that he’s going to focus his suspicions on you.”

 

Fuse smiled wanly. “He’s onto me already, Lieutenant, though I appreciate you thinking of me. We got into an argument about his choice of targets – I tried to point him toward testing the explosives on dummies in deserted areas. The colonel disagreed, vehemently." Fuse took a deep breath, apparently steeling himself for his next words. "I’d rather hit him with everything we can now, while we still can, and let the chips fall where they may. I’m going to send over the coordinates, and leave it up to you, though. Sir.”

 

After we went through the formalities of finishing the conversation, I took a long look at Elara and Jorgan. Elara was, unsurprisingly, in favor of protecting Fuse by sitting on his intel for the moment, while Jorgan wanted to jump right on the safe house and take it out, consequences be damned. I couldn’t help but agree with Jorgan – Fuse’s cover was going to be blown soon, regardless, and we were here to secure as many military objectives, not play superheroes to save a traitor. On the other hand, Fuse is just a dumb kid that got caught up with a bunch of karking cowardly traitors. I swallowed hard, hoping that the gulping sound wasn’t as loud to everyone else as it was to me.

 

“We’re going to hit the Imperial facility. Fuse is right – his cover’s going to be blown sooner or later anyway, and we need to take that place out while we have the chance. Hopefully he’ll be to transmit his coordinates in time. If not…we’ll figure something out.”

 

My communicator beeped loudly. Incoming call from “Representative” Fauler.

 

“Lieutenant Martell, I hope I’m not reaching you at a bad time.”

 

I grimaced. Whenever the SIS was involved it always seemed like a bad time. “No, not at all. I was hoping to hear from you.”

 

“Really?” Fauler made no attempt to hide the surprise in his voice.

 

“Uh, no.” I didn’t really have anything else to say, so I didn’t say anything. I soon discovered that he didn’t have anything to say either, so we enjoyed a nice, long, awkward silence that stretched and stretched until I’d have rather been talking to the protocol droid. “So, uh, what can I do for you? Representative.”

 

“Yeah. Well, the independent contractor we spoke about wanted to arrange a meeting with their potential backup for the potential operation we might have discussed during the meeting I would officially deny if pressed on.”

 

Karking intelligence agents.

 

“Great. Where’s the meet up? Or can you not tell me that either?”

 

“Cantina two blocks south of my office, you can’t miss it. Just follow the smell of vomit and fresh corpses. Fauler out.”

 

It was just as well that he hung up then, because I hadn’t the faintest idea how to respond to that, beyond asking how I was to tell that smell apart from Jorgan’s natural scent.

 

As always, we managed. Despite us not being lost, Elara forced us to stop for directions along the way. Forex got some more dirty looks from the civilians, but they were happy enough to help us out when I waved some credits at them. The place was about as bad as Fauler had implied, full of riffraff and miscreants, the kind of people I’d have probably ended up like if things hadn’t turned out as well as they had. It was a sobering thought – as much as I liked to ***** and complain about the administration at the academy, they’d given me another chance where they could have cut me loose. I shivered, then turned to my two companions, Forex remaining outside to avoid any issues.

 

“Let’s find this ‘independent contractor’ as quickly as we can. With our luck, he’s probably some buck-toothed nerf herder with a massive ego that dwarfs his intellect.” Jorgan’s snort was interrupted by a bark of melodious laughter from behind me. It was surprisingly pleasant given that it was clearly directed at me.

 

“Hope that isn’t anyone I know, hot shot.” She was a Mirialan, wearing a casual shirt unbuttoned enough to offer a generous display of her cleavage, tight jeans that clung to her curves, and an attitude that seemed guaranteed to mean trouble for me. “Course, I could make an exception for someone like you, Handsome.” She winked salaciously. Elara and Jorgan seemed to be rolling their eyes.

 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I just didn’t expect my contact to be someone like you. A Mirialan. Because you’re usually Jedi and stuff. I think.” I winced and locked my jaw to avoid digging myself any deeper.

 

The smuggler merely laughed at that. “My only beliefs are in the almighty credit and a good blaster.” She paused, eyeing me closer. “You’re even cuter than farm boy over there.” She let out a sharp whistle; a harried looking man with a crew cut came rushing over holding a pair of bottles. The Mirialan leaned back against the bar and jerked a thumb in his direction. “This here’s Corso Riggs. Certified all-Republic farm boy. Kinda like you, actually, only without the charm. If you know what I mean, handsome.” She winked again.

 

Elara sounded suspiciously like she was clearing her throat, but I decided to ignore it.

 

“Well then, Mr. Riggs and Miss...?”

 

“Name’s Teela, but you can call me T, Handsome. T for tempting.” She was practically purring instead of speaking. Teela leaned in closer, until her body was practically pressed against mine and my hands brushed her waist.

 

I suddenly felt really warm under my collar, but I kept my cool. “More like T for Trouble, if you ask me.” I winked at Elara, who rolled her eyes, as I regained control of the situation. “Much as I’d like to get to know the both of you better, our mutual acquaintance informed me that you’re working a job for him. One that’s a bit more trouble than making your Wookie backup.”

 

Teela grinned, genuinely amused rather than sarcastic. “Poor Bowdaar’s not one for keeping a low profile, I guess. But he’s not my main backup.”

 

I nodded toward a brunette sitting at a booth behind her. “No, that’d be the lovely woman with the hold-out blaster under her coat sitting at that table.”

 

“Oh boy, you’re a lot of fun, Handsome. Think I could trade Corso in for you?” She gave her companion a playful shove toward me. “Least the Republic can do for my loyal service an’ all.”

 

“C’mon Captain, you don’t really mean that.” Riggs sounded almost as depressed as I had when I had found out that Jorgan had been assigned to Havoc. “I mean, I forget what we were talking about.”

 

Teela rolled her eyes and snorted. “He doesn’t even swoon properly. Could you swoon for me?”

 

“I can swoon,” Riggs retorted indignantly. “You never asked me to is all.” I snickered at his desperation.

 

“Swooning violates multiple sections of proper protocol for military interactions with civilians, Sir.” Elara’s voice snapped me out of it. “I would suggest focusing on the task at hand lest you get…distracted.” Jorgan didn’t say anything. He just laughed. Because he’s an ******e.

 

I nodded sagely and swallowed hard. “Anyway, our mutual friend mentioned that you might require some backup and suggested we get in touch with you. Not sure what all you’re planning, but I can give you our comm frequencies so you can keep us looped in as needed. Not sure how easily we could get to you, since we have our own mission, but a friendly blaster never hurts.”

 

Teela shifted her feet to give me a better view, good enough that I had to focus on a spot on the wall right behind her to stay focused. “I could get used to this kind of attention. Maybe you could give me your private frequency too.”

 

I laughed and carefully extricated myself from the situation. “You’d probably just sell it on the HoloNet to the highest bidder. I’ll pass, regretfully.” I took another two steps back to open some distance. “Anyway, we gotta head out, have some things to take care of things. Trooper things. Top secret, way above Mr. Riggs’ pay grade.” I pretended to slick my hair back with my hand. “You know how it is.”

 

“Yeah, you should be going. Going to do your things, and all. See you later.” Riggs sounded positively thrilled to see us leave. Teela gave a little wave and blew me a kiss. I tried not to notice.

 

Nobody really said much during the trip back to the building that passed for our barracks, which was probably for the best. Teela hadn’t been exactly what I expected based on Fauler’s description, and I needed to center myself a bit so she didn’t throw me off balance – she might be working for Republic interests in general, but she was still a smuggler and a criminal that would be willing to look past that if she could make some quick and easy credits by taking advantage of our trust. Not that I’d mind working with her, of course. Or working in close proximity to her, right? Idiot.

 

We suited up in our standard armor for these kind of ops – no markings of any kind, generic build to pass for mercenaries. I uploaded Fuse’s information into our system, while Elara procured a large bulk speeder – we needed the cover to hide the fact we were lugging around a massive war droid – somehow, I doubted we’d be able to pass Forex off as anything but a machine built for mayhem and destruction. “In the name of our glorious Republic!” echoed in my head.

 

One benefit of Gorik’s desire for the convenience of a single warehouse was that it was far more exposed than it would have been had he stored everything in Imperial territory. In particular, I could not deny the visceral thrill of noting half-strength patrols around the building Fuse had pinpointed, and a generations-old security system that would be laughably easy to hack. Fuse had been unable to supply us with a floor plan of the building, but I recognized the basic layout easily enough from classes I’d taken at the academy. I sent Forex around back to hold off any Imperial trying to flee, then moved toward the main entrance, flanked on either side by Elara and Jorgan.

 

I took out the nearest patrol with a single mortar volley, wincing slightly at the sight of their mangled corpses lying on the side of the road. They might have been normal folks born on the wrong side of the border, they might have been monsters – either way, it was never easy to see what modern weaponry could do up and personal like that. The second patrol suffered less, but not much so. The lead trooper, wearing a ridiculously large backpack that must have contained some kind of sensor array or something, took a pair of shots to the face and fell to the ground, her body twitching slightly. Her two companions were finished off by a hail of bolts from Jorgan’s cannon, which he swung back around to cover me while I took care of the security system.

 

I wasn’t an engineer by trade or training, but I knew more than enough to disable the system Gorik had in place for his stash – it was a Dialatus Mark III, the kind of garbage that we handled for fun back on Ithaca. How the colonel expected that to hold off any kind of determined or trained infiltrator, I didn’t know. Maybe he simply never even considered the possibility that it would ever even be a possibility. We placed a couple of heavy explosives up against the door and retreated to a safe distance. After the door had been blown to pieces by a satisfyingly large explosion, we pushed our way in. I covered our approach and Elara protected the rear; I’d have preferred having more firepower to cover us, but Jorgan was the best with the kind of heavy ordinance we had brought along to take the place out.

 

“Enemy troops have entered the base! Enemy troops have entered the base!” The warning rang out over and over on the base’s intercom. Damned Imperials had caught on quicker than I had expected; I only hoped that Gorik’s main base wasn’t close enough to send reinforcements in time to stop us.

 

Jorgan blew away another pair of Imperials that stormed in to try to stop us, but we secured the rest of the area without encountering any kind of significant resistance. I could hear the sounds of fighting from further ahead, where Forex should have been, but the droid didn’t respond to the comm, and we didn’t have time to worry about it until after we’d placed our demolition charges and hauled *** out of there. I set Jorgan to work as soon as we were in position. I covered the doors as best I could, while Elara huddled behind some containers, ready to support whichever of us got into trouble.

 

I was relieved that neither of us did. The place was frightening enough as it was, with row after row of containers filled with explosives, components, and the droids to deliver their deadly cargo. It seemed as if Gorik was willing to kill all of Anchorhead if he had to. Not surprising for a karking Imperial, but it’s still hard to believe in these atrocities until you actually see them. We finally got a message from Forex, but it was impossible to make out except for some garbled nonsense about striking a blow for the Republic against the vicious dogs of the Empire. I made a mental note to reprogram the droid once we had the opportunity.

 

After Jorgan finished with his work, we slipped out of the main storage area and made our way to the rear entrance, where Forex was still holding position according to my scanner. I called out over the comm to avoid having it try to blast us to smithereens as we exited the building, then motioned for my two companions to follow me.

 

The building had been dark and unnaturally cool, so it was rather unpleasant to be blasted by the Tatooine air even through our filtration systems. Something stunk, too. I realized a moment later that it was the pile of Imperial corpses lying strewn about the area, which was being covered by Forex’s cannons.

 

“Sir! I am thrilled to see you have struck another massive blow against the tyrannical rule of the Empire! According to my analysis, I completed my part of the mission at an efficiency rate of over 92%! With this sort of success, we will defeat the Empire and have its servants crawling on their hands and knees and begging for mercy in no time!”

 

I saw Jorgan shaking his head out of the corner of my eye.

 

“That’s, uh, great Forex. How about we worry about getting to a safe distance, blowing the place up, and getting home in one piece. Then we can compare our efficiency rates.”

 

“I bet the lieutenant loves discussing his ‘efficiency rate’. If you know what I mean.” Jorgan looked entirely too pleased with himself, so I shut him down with a harsh glare.

 

The trip back to Anchorhead was rather pleasant, especially with the brilliant explosion providing a scenic backdrop for our voyage. I half wished we’d hired a camera crew to document our experiences, since we’d probably never even see bonus pay for it, let alone a medal or other publicity-attracting benefit.

 

“Sir, mind joining me at the range tomorrow morning?” Jorgan’s voice was suspiciously normal. It scared me.

 

“Yeah, sure. Got something in particular you’re trying out? I don’t remember seeing any particularly interesting ordinance in Klerren’s or Fauler’s inventory.”

 

The Cathar flashed a wicked grin. “While you were busy being blinded by that smuggler’s headlights, I managed to do some smuggling of my own off that Riggs guy.” He drew a blaster pistol from one of his holsters – it was a bit flashy but looked sleek and dangerous. “Want to try this baby out before they figure out who took it.”

 

Elara sputtered at that, but I cut off her speech on the inappropriate nature of illegally appropriating goods from civilians affiliated with Republic operations by offering to fill out the necessary paperwork for the compensation Teela would be owed. Damned if I knew how to fill that out, but I figured it couldn’t be that difficult.

 

No any more so than sneaking into enemy facilities and blowing them up while dealing with a psychopathically patriotic war droid, at least.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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I can totally believe that Jorgan was able to steal that gun off Corso. He's waaaaaaaay too trusting of Republic officers. And I like the James Bond fantasies.

 

And why do I get the feeling that Arys' enslaved sister is your Inquisitor?

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So sorry I didn't reply to this sooner Xakthul -

 

 

And why do I get the feeling that Arys' enslaved sister is your Inquisitor?

 

Because she is ;)

 

In my first drafts that was going to be a big twist, but it only works as a twist if the readers aren't aware of it (otherwise the effect is kind of lost)...so it wouldn't work with me writing both of their stories at the same time. I thought about writing Ayrs' story to that point, then writing Veresia's to catch up, but that would have been annoying for me (and anyone reading). It was a bit clunky to explain why - if they share the same parents - she is Force sensitive and he isn't, so I went with the tried and true "just because" approach.

 

Their topics/stories will intersect around Voss, and then again later on.

 

 

Jorgan met me at the firing range first thing the next morning. He’d already been at it for at least ten, twenty, minutes judging from the way his fur was matted down by sweat. Damned place is hot as hell, how can anyone live here? I sniffed the air cautiously; something told me Jorgan might have been there even longer than I had thought.

 

“That smuggler was…interesting,” the Cathar noted laconically as he fired off a couple more shots at the one of the moving targets with Riggs’ pistol. “She sure seemed fond of you.”

 

I grit my teeth and forced myself to ignore the temptation to slap him. “Yeah, she sure made that outfit look good. Can’t trust those types though, y’know? You think you’re in for one thing, next thing you know you’re unconscious in a ditch and your wallet and pants are missing.”

 

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Jorgan casually raised his eyebrow.

 

“Don’t push your luck, Sergeant. I’m a better shot than you, even with your gun already in hand.” I snorted at his shocked expression on his face and took my place next to him and unhooked my standard-issue pistol; it couldn’t possibly match a carefully modified blaster like Riggs’, but good enough for some casual shooting. “You see the news from the Rim?”

 

Jorgan nodded soberly. “Reports of Imperial mobilizations in multiple sectors. You think something’s up?”

 

Too much. Like always. “Wouldn’t doubt it. The Empire’s not like us, it’s a colossal war machine masquerading as a political entity. Give it too long without a war, and it’ll start coming apart at the seams. A theocracy led by a bunch of sociopathic murderers is not a stable form of government.”

 

“Didn’t know you moonlighted as a political commentator, sir.” He let out a derisive snort and fired another couple of shots.

 

“Didn’t know you moonlighted as a professional pain in the ***, Jorgan.” He laughed. “Oh wait, I did.” I smiled cheerfully in his direction before changing the topic. “How’s the gun holding up? Wouldn’t want to do anything bad to it, would probably break Riggs more than that smuggler has.”

 

“Too light, doesn’t feel right, if you know what i mean. ‘Course it’s hard to accurately judge a weapon when it isn’t yours. I’m used to my weapons being like extensions of my body. This one doesn't, probably won't unless I decide to keep it." His near-perpetual scowl was back, reassuring me that all was right with the world. And Aric Jorgan.

 

“So, Jorgan, what were you up to before you joined the Deadeyes? Scuttlebutt has it that you were a burlesque dancer at a club on Ithor until they realized you were scaring away more tourists than you were bringing in.”

 

It sounded like he was grinding his teeth. “No, sir. Knew I was going to join up from the moment I was born, knew it was what I was meant for. Not just because the Republic needs good soldiers, not just because the Empire has to be stopped, but also because the service of people like me help make sure the Cathar have a place here.”

It was probably the longest sentence I’d ever heard from Jorgan. Unsurprisingly, it was also the most revealing.

 

“The Cathar will always have a place in the Republic, that’s what makes it the Republic, after all.” I paused, trying to figure out how to follow up on a political platitude. “And, for what it’s worth – if the quality of your service was up for analysis you’d be rated about as high as a ******* ever could.”

 

We shared a loud laugh that startled a passing pack of womprats. I stared at the animals, curiously, and decided I would try to hunt down a plush version for Elara. To scare her with in pranks, of course.

 

“What about you, sir? I know about your…” Jorgan looked distinctively uncomfortable. “I know you grew up on Ithaca. And the whole family back on Kuat. What made you join up?”

 

I frowned slightly, chewing on the question for a moment as I mulled it over in my head. “Born to do it too, I guess. Mom was a trooper too, started as a grunt right before the Sith hit us at the start of the War, joined SpecOps later on. I think she served under Garza, from the way the general talks about her and puts up with all the **** I pull." I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and keep my heart from beating its way out of my chest. "Mom was the only recruitment poster I ever needed. I knew I wanted to be out there fighting for the people that need it, like she did”

 

I still remembered when we had found out about the Treaty of Coruscant. Mom hadn’t slept for a couple of days and she’d had that look she always had on when someone had done something real stupid. I'd known then that the Republic would need me too.

 

“I see.” I wasn’t sure if he did, but I figured it was about as good an explanation as I could give. “What about your father? If you don’t mind me asking, sir.”

 

“Nah, don’t mind. He was a Jedi, actually.” I saw Jorgan’s eyes bug out a little, so I decided to quash things before they got out of hand. “I’m not Force-sensitive they checked. The Force is weak in this one.” I smiled at my own joke. Of course, you always smile at your own jokes.

 

“Ever wish you were? Force sensitive, I mean.”

 

I chewed on that one for a bit. “Once in a while, I guess, but I like being able to live a normal life. None of those Jedi rules, no ugly robes…no Force directing my every step. Sometimes I’d watch my sister and be amazed, though.”

 

“Veresia.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my head, wondering if I’d ever see her again. Wondering if I’d be able to recognize her if I did. “I’ll just have to keep an eye out for brunette Sith with a unhealthy level for snark. Maybe I can ask our friend Balkar to help, right?” I grinned at him, but wasn’t really feeling happy about anything.

 

Jorgan turned back to his target and began plugging away again, which worked just as well for me too. Some people you’d want to sit and talk to for hours. Some people you could just fire some blasters with and it was all well and good. Not like Jorgan was much of a conversationalist, anyway. Not like Elara, at least. And the way her eyes sparkle when she’s laughing at one of your jokes…

 

I shook my head. Wasn’t going to get outshot by karking Jorgan because I let myself get distracted, no matter how nice that distraction was. Besides, nothing’s going to happen so there’s nothing to distract yourself with. You’re distracting yourself by imagining a distraction. I nodded along with thought – sometimes I was real profound.

 

“You sure like to cradle your rifle, sir.” Jorgan was talking again, and also proving my point about his social skills. “Interesting the way you caress it, like a lover.”

 

Weak. “You’re one to talk. Lugging around with that massive assault cannon, always polishing it. I’m surprised you haven’t done any internal damage with all that cleaning fluid. I heard that can make your gun start to fire blanks.”

 

Jorgan stared daggers at me. “Yeah, but my arsenal’s ready for action. Judging from that pistol you have holstered, I’d be surprised if you could fire much of anything.”

 

I smirked; he was way too obvious about this. “Maybe, but it also seems to me that you’re constantly replacing equipment because you’re always messing yours up. It’s not how pretty it looks that matters, it’s how you use it. I’m pretty sure your equipment doesn’t get used very often before it gets replaced by a better model.”

 

He stood there for a moment, quivering slightly as he desperately attempted to come up with a response. When he finally did, it was a beautiful thing. “I hate you.”

 

“I hate you….?” I folded my arms across my chest.

 

“I hate you, Sir.” He stormed off, muttering something about nerf-herders under his breath. I merely stood there, basking in the Tatooine sun and the glory of my victory.

 

“Sir?” There was a soft voice behind me, and an even softer touch on my shoulder. “Representative Fauler wished to speak with you on an urgent matter. I believe it may be regarding Czerka’s activities on this planet.” I counted to ten before I turned to face her, just to be safe.

 

Elara was still in what passed for casual clothes for her, white shirt that was both modest and enticing at the same time, the same tight khaki-colored pants that she’d been wearing when I first met her back on Taris. My mouth felt pretty dry. “I’ll get ahold of him.”

 

She nodded slightly. “Very good, sir. I’ll return to the ship and inform the rest of the squad.”

 

“You look good out of the uniform, Elara.” I called out as she left, mostly because I was stupid and didn’t know when to keep my mouth shut. “I mean, not that you don’t look good in the uniform either. You keep your armor in really good shape. Very polished, shiny, looks brand-new. I'm sure you're right up to regs with that.”

 

I simultaneously winced and grimaced as she stopped to nod and smile strangely at me before returning to her original path.

 

“Of course, it’s not that I judge your looks in or out of the uniform, really. Or that I ignore them.” I felt a bead of sweat forming on my forehead and I could have sworn there was a vein pulsing as well. “Boy, it’s hot as hell here. I mean because of the two suns, blinding, awful. I hear it’s unhealthy to stare. At the sun.”

 

She paused again, turned and gave me an amused look, but turned back toward the ship without any commentary. I was pretty sure she was laughing at me. To be fair, I’d have been laughing at me too.

 

Kark. Kark. Kark. Kark. Kark. Kark.

 

I still didn’t understand why I acted that way around her, and I wished I did so I could stop. Acting the fool around someone like that smuggler didn’t bother me too much. Hell, that was almost fun. Being unable to communicate properly with Elara was stupid as could be. I made a mental note to meditate on the situation later, or possibly never, whichever came first.

 

Elara and Jorgan were already prepped and ready to go by the time I returned to the ship, so I was unable to use my years of infiltration and stealth training to evade notice. Jorgan was still scowling about the range, like he was about 95% of the time, and I couldn’t quite read Elara’s expression or her smile. It was troubling. I decided to meditate on that at some point of my life, too.

 

Fauler’s face was an unwelcome sight as it flickered out of the projector. I wasn’t a fan of spooks – Balkar and Drav being rare exceptions – and Fauler’d done nothing but make trouble for us since we landed, starting with his decision to involve a civilian in what should have been a military operation. I’d spared him from Garza’s wrath by holding back from sending in my report on the matter, but it didn’t mean I liked putting people’s lives in danger because an operation was being run by an amateur.

 

“Lieutenant, good to see you.” I gave him and the weasel-faced guy next to him the least genuine smile I could. “Kamus here was able to decrypt some old Czerka information and we’ve got a situation here. It turns out Czerka was digging out in the Dune Sea and uncovered some kind of device.”

 

“Some kind of device? You’re not so good at the whole briefing thing, Fauler.” I tapped my chronometer demonstratively. “I’ve got a priority op that could go down at any minute, what do you need?”

 

Fauler suddenly looked like a child that had received an ugly pair of socks on Life Day. “Uh, yes. Of course. It turns out that Czerka unlocked some kind of powerful ancient device under the desert, in an abandoned facility of some kind. They weren’t sure of what it did, exactly, but it killed off almost the entire Czerka staff. We managed to track down a survivor with Kamus’ help, and his data turned out to be enough to help us locate the abandoned facility. I sent in the private contractor…err Teela…the smuggler. You know what I mean.”

 

“And now she needs our help?” I decided to be generous and held back the long, exasperated, sigh that had been slowly gestating since he had started talking.

 

“Uh, yes. Once I was able to tune out that Riggs man, it sounded like they’d encountered some nasty stuff. She specifically requested to be rescued by the most capable and handsome Republic officer on Tatooine. Only she didn’t say rescued, she called it “reinforced to avoid a potentially disastrous situation”. Either way, We need you.”

 

I glanced over at Jorgan. “Take heart, Sergeant, that still leaves you as the second most handsome soldier on Tatooine.” He scowled, but Elara killed off any residual amusement with a loud hacking cough. “We’ll head right out Fauler, but it has to be quick, I’ve got my primary mission to attend to, and I can’t let that slide for this. You’d better scrounge up another posse in case it’s needed.”

 

He nodded. “Understood. I’m forwarding you the coordinates now. Thank you for your assistance. I’m sure she’ll thank you too, you lucky dog.”

 

I hurried to my cabin to suit up so none of my squad would get a good look at my face after that. Five minutes later, we were locked and loaded, and on our way in the cargo lifter. Things were a bit cramped with the 4X unit in there, but it sounded like we’d need our maximum firepower, and I didn’t want it left in Anchorhead if the situation got hairy or the situation with Fuse changed. I only wished that Tatooine was more interesting to look at, instead of simply a barren wasteland full of sand, some more sand and additional sand. Occasional cliffs and rocky outcroppings did little to diversify the landscape, and the strange hooting and cries from far away only added to the desolate feeling around us.

 

Fauler’s coordinates pointed us to the southwest corner of the Dune Sea, scanners detected the facility miles away. Strange readings too, the structure’s composition is about the same as many modern buildings’ have. I tried comming Teela as we pulled up to a safe spot to keep the speeder, but got no response on either of the two channels Fauler had said she’d be using. Bad sign, most likely, but there might be interference within the facility, and if Fauler’s information on what the device was even remotely accurate, someone needed to deal with that thing.

 

“Sir! I look forward to eradicating the menace that lies within this facility. I will gladly annihilate any threat to the Republic, even if it is not Imperial! Should Czerka prove to be a danger to the Republic and its great freedoms and citizens, I would stop at nothing to destroy the entire organization and wreak justice upon its members. Why, my very circuits quiver in rage when I consider the number of never-do-wells that seek to undermine our great society.”

 

The three of us stared at 4X for a moment.

 

“Uh, I think i'll just go ahead and take point on this one 4X. Jorgan, Elara, keep me covered. 4X, cover the rear, and…uh…don’t start any interstellar wars if you don’t have to.”

 

The place was a mess, with the ruined remains of droids both ancient and new scattered all over the place. There were blaster marks in some of them, and scorch marks on the walls behind them. Firefight, recent one too. But was it Teela and her crew, or someone else too? I hoped the smuggler was alright – it looked like things had gone bad right out of the gate, and I couldn’t imagine they’d have gotten any easier as they got closer to the ancient device.

 

We moved on in silence. I kept our lights off even as the rooms and corridors darkened as we got further from the surface – perfect vision of our surroundings would have been great, but I sensed trouble ahead, and there was no sense in giving ourselves away before we were in position. The entire place was…wrong…somehow. Too different than the rest of the area around it, too structured and ordered…it didn’t feel right, even if I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, or put it into words.

 

The squad was about five minutes into the facility when we heard the sounds of blaster fire coming from an adjacent area. I sprinted down the corridor and positioned myself behind an overturned crate for some cover. Jorgan crossed the corridor and took up a spot on the other side of the opening, while Elara hovered behind me to provide support and 4X covered us from any surprises from behind. I motioned to Jorgan and counted down from three on my hand. Then I tossed a flash bang and charged in behind the blinding burst of light.

 

I found Teela and her crew in a fierce fight with some weird shambling creatures that spat some kind of goo at them. Teela herself was firing from cover, but it looked Riggs had managed to get caught out in the open and the Wookie had restored to meleeing the things with a nasty looking vibroblade. The Mirialan was slapping them with kolto packs as best she could, but things were going to fall apart sooner rather than later. I couldn’t see the brunette from the cantina, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

 

Course, now the Republic heroes are here.

 

“Elara, keep them patched up. Jorgan, 4X, circle behind Riggs and provide him support. I’m going to help the Wookie. Don’t know what these things are, but they ain’t friendly and I ain’t interested in finding out. Let’s move!”

 

I jumped right into the action, smashing one of the shamblers in the face with the butt of my rifle and taking out a pack just entering the room with a grenade. I heard the Wookie make a sound like the air had been knocked out of him, so I rolled over to his position and blasted a pair of the things attacking him square in the face. The rest of the fight was a lot easier – 4X and Jorgan wiped out the group that had been focused on Riggs with a beautiful display of blaster fire that lit the room up. When it was over, Jorgan grabbed Riggs by the arm and dragged him off the ground.

 

“You fight like this all the time, Riggs? If you do, you’ll end up dumb, ugly and dead.” The Cathar shook his head in disgusted disbelief.

 

“Unfortunately, he’s only got two of those three covered right now,” Teela purred as she sauntered over to me. “Nice to see you again, Handsome. Think you can help me out with blowing some stuff up in the next room?” She motioned toward the door where the additional shamblers had come in. “These…things…drove us back when we tried to approach. With your squad here, we can push them back and take out the shield generators for the device. Maybe figure this whole mess out and make some credits off of it.”

 

I rolled my eyes as she winked at me and rubbed her hands together. “Let’s figure out what the damn thing is before we get ahead of ourselves.”

 

“Indeed. Per Regulation 43(b), subsection III, the device would fall under the category of ‘assets seized by the Republic military under threat of hostile action’. That would make the device Republic property.” Elara sounded real proud of herself as she cut Teela off at the knees. “You would still be compensated, of course, but at a fair value.”

 

The two woman stared at each other, Elara practically daring the smuggler to come up with a reply. She couldn’t, though, and remained still with her mouth twitching slightly.

 

“Anyway, let’s go blow some stuff up?” I slipped in between them and motioned toward our actual target. “We’ll send 4X in first, have him draw their fire, then proceed to the shield generators one at a time. Slower going, but safer. No sense in losing people for no reason, especially when we don’t know what the thing is and what it might be capable of doing.”

 

That worked well enough for everyone, and the going was a lot easier once we’d worked out our formation; the shamblers didn’t stand a chance against that kind of concentrated firepower, and both of the shield generators went down easy enough. Elara took some samples off the spitting things to do some tests when we got back, while the rest of us patched up some small scrapes and bruises.

 

Teela pointed out the main console, which had some kind of strange obelisk hovering between two pillars behind it.

 

“Come to me. Come closer and we are one.” I glanced around the group and was relieved to see that I wasn’t the only one hearing the voice. I decided to take point instead of the droid, and cautiously made my way toward the obelisk. “You are capable, strange one. Few have the power to resist us. We may share words.”

A hologram suddenly appeared, of a strange looking creature with eyes attached to either side of its head by tendrils of flesh.

 

“Uh, hello. I’m Lieutenant Ayrs Martell. Republic Special Forces. And you are?”

 

Damned thing ignored my question and went straight into supervillain rant mode. “We are the Infinite Empire. We are here, we are everywhere. None will resist us, none will stand against us. Join us, for we will lift you above your pathetic shells.”

 

I glanced over to Elara, Jorgan and Teela in turn; pointlessly given the helmets the first two were wearing. “Yeah, we don’t really need any uplifting. What do you want?”

 

“We will rebuild the Infinite Empire, reshape the galaxy in our image. We do not fear you. We do not f-“ The transmission cut out as Teela blasted the obelisk with a series of shots from her blaster.

 

When I looked over at her, she shrugged innocently. “Boring conversation anyway.”

 

I looked over the smoking remains of the obelisk in dismay. The thing had sounded dangerous, but Fauler was still going to be pretty pissed about having his pet project ruined like this. I imagined his SIS superiors would too; probably would blame the military like they always did in these kinds of situations. I was puzzling over what I would say when a harsh voice from behind me interrupted my thoughts. “You destroyed it?! You damned Mirialan fool, how could you?!”

 

Teela’s smooth voice took on a decidedly menacing tone this time as she replied to the speaker, a young man with extensive cybernetic enhancements. He was flanked on either side by an armed woman with a shaved head. “Leksende. Come here to die?”

 

Leksende, whoever he was, seemed infuriated by the comment. He also seemed pretty stupid, with the way he was waving that blaster around in front of a much larger group of trained fighters. “Czerka invested so much into this project and it’s all for nothing because of you.” He jabbed a finger at Teela’s face. “Do you have any idea what you have cost the corporation? What you have cost me?”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess you completely missed what she just did to your precious obelisk?” Teela’s shot took him right in the forehead. His two guards dropped their weapons and raised their arms in the air. Truth be told, they looked visibly relieved. “I’ve got no quarrel with you. Find a better employer next time.”

 

One of them nodded, then both ran off toward the building entrance.

 

“Well, soldier boy. What’re your plans now?” I tried not to notice how much closer Teela was to me all of a sudden. “Seems to me that we have a victory to celebrate.”

 

“It seems to me this guy went and stole Flashy!” Riggs was pointing an accusative finger in Jorgan’s face. It was a gesture I had made in the Cathar’s direction more than once, myself. “I see it right here. Give it back!”

 

Teela sighed and rolled her eyes as she glanced over. I shrugged at Jorgan and did my best to contain my laughter. Elara seemed distracted by something on her scanner, but I didn’t want to let that get in the way of my fun.

 

“You want it back? What are you prepared to do for it?” Jorgan jabbed Riggs in the chest, half-playfully, half-forcefully. “Man should never get separated from his weapon.”

 

Riggs looked about ready to cry. “You Republic troops were supposed to be heroic and defend people and stuff. Not steal their things.”

 

I sighed along with Jorgan, who sounded utterly disgusted when he replied. “You’re as bad as Fuse was.”

 

Fuse….

 

As Elara sprinted over to me, it occurred to me that she hadn’t been looking at the scanner, she’d been downloading a message.

 

“Sir, we received a priority message from Fuse – Mayor Klerren’s office intercepted a communication that was sent in the clear and forwarded it on.” In the clear? Kark, Fuse knows better than that. Unless… “Colonel Gorik discovered Fuse’s role in our previous operations and will be executing him shortly. There are coordinates included in the message, but it will require us to head there immediately.”

 

I didn’t need any time to make my decision, anyway.

 

“We don’t leave our people behind.” Jorgan removed his helmet and gave me an irritated look. I shook my head at him. “When they screw up, it’s up to us to pick them up.” I pointed a finger in the vague direction of the outside world. “Fuse needs us to pick him up right now. Let’s go bring him home.”

Edited by Lesaberisa
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Gorik’s compound was also located in the Dune Sea – a convenient bit of luck for us since we were going to have to hoof it to get there in time at all. Fuse’s message had been cut off before he could provide much in the way of details, but we weren’t Havoc for nothing. We’d find a way to bust him out of whatever trouble he was in, take out Colonel Gorik and his men, and nobody’d be the wiser. I could deal with Garza’s complaining in our after-action report; she liked success enough that I couldn’t imagine her being any trouble.

 

I activated the autopilot on our speeder for a moment as I turned to the rest of the squad to give my patented pre-mission inspirational speech. “I know Fuse betrayed the Republic on Ord Mantell – he’ll pay for that within our system, by our laws. Right now, he’s our brother-in-arms, and he needs our help. We’re going to kick the Imperials’ door down, and get him out of whatever mess he’s in. Then we’re going to take out the rest of Gorik’s arsenal and, Maker willing, we’ll take the colonel back with us too. Any questions?”

 

Elara shook her head, though a slight twitch by her facial muscles revealed nervousness about something. 4X merely regarded me with cold, unfeeling, eyes. Jorgan was staring daggers at me, but he shook his head. I wasn’t sure if he’d actually accepted my decision or was just waiting for a better time to chew me out about it, but I didn’t really care. We had a mission to complete, one that didn’t leave any time for second guessing. Even if second guessing is what makes Jorgan’s life worth living to him.

 

We dropped the speeder off two clicks from the target site – Fuse had messed with their sensor profiles, giving us a large enough gap to make our way to the entrance. The going was slow, but that couldn’t be helped - it wouldn’t do anyone any good for us to be spotted before we even got inside. I took point, since Forex was about as far from inconspicuous as you could get. Jorgan was next, following slightly to my right so he’d have a clearer field for fire, while Elara kept both of us covered. The droid brought up the rear again, safely out of my sight and fully capable of protecting us from anyone stupid enough to try to sneak in behind us.

 

The Imperials weren’t operating openly, presumably to avoid trouble with the locals. I still found it a bit odd, though, since the militia wasn’t likely to give much of a damn and couldn’t really do anything to stop it, anyway. Wasn’t like it took much of a genius to figure out who might be sending explosive droids into a Republic-affiliated settlement, anyway. It was another small bit of good luck, though, since it meant I wouldn’t have to explain myself quite as much to Garza afterward. Can’t blame me for going after a group of unaffiliated terrorists launching attacks on what was ostensibly Republic territory, after all.

 

As we neared the main entrance to the bunker, I shot off a quick message to Fauler to let him know how things had gone down in the abandoned Czerka facility. I assumed Teela and her crew would make it out fine – even Riggs, despite his shortcomings – but the SIS needed to know about the abandoned machine with the ranting supervillain for a holographic message. I trusted Teela about as far as anyone in her line of work – not at all – and I didn’t want something that dangerous getting out at all, let alone making it into the hands of someone who would turn it against the Republic or innocent civilians. It took a few moments to clear the electronic hurdles Fauler had in place for reaching him, but I finally managed to get through.

 

“Fauler? It’s Martell. We secured the chamber and saved your contractor and her people, but we found an unpleasant device lying in the main chamber. It got shot up pretty good, but you’re going to want to send some people over there to make sure it’s taken care of properly, if you get my meaning.”

 

“I don’t have people.” Fauler sounded annoyed with me, which was hardly the first time I’d run into that reaction.

 

“Well, hire another smuggler then. You seem real close to the black market types around here, surely you can work your magic again.”

 

I couldn’t tell if the sound that followed was a rude noise or merely interference. “Fine. I’ll arrange something. Thank you for your help.”

 

“Anything for my friends in the SIS. I love you guys.” I wished Fauler were with me in person so I could have offered a gesture of my feelings about him, but since he wasn’t I was forced to resort to painfully dry sarcasm. “I’ve got an important op to run, though, so I’ll have to continue this chat some other time. Or not, you know how these things are.”

 

Elara hissed something under her breath over the tactical channel.

 

“What kind of op?” Fauler sounded suspiciously like Mom for a second. I couldn’t think of a proper reply quickly, so I just disconnected from the channel, making sure to adjust the vocabulator slightly to send some authentic-sounding static Fauler’s way.

 

“You seem to be acquiring personality traits from your favorite smuggler, Sir. I best prepare myself for additional paperwork that Fauler will surely send our way.” I imagined the smug smile on Elara’s face and scowled, but it wasn’t really worth picking a fight over during a mission. Especially when she’s right. Instead, I motioned the squad forward, trying not to wince as I heard Forex creaking its way after us. I made a mental note to assign Jorgan to oiling its joints after we got back to Anchorhead.

 

There was only a pair of guards outside the complex, inexperienced ones judging from the way they were both looking in the same direction, with their weapons uselessly balanced against the wall behind them. I almost felt bad about taking them out, until I remembered what they and their ilk would do to Fuse and trillions like him if they had the chance. The average Imperial was probably a decent sort, hell some of them were probably almost as great as Elara, but I didn’t have the luxury of getting to know them in the middle of a firefight. Sometimes you just had to grit

your teeth and do what needed to be done.

 

We disposed of the two bodies behind a part of the wall that jutted out from the rest; not much of a hiding place, but good enough to last as long as we needed it to. The security system was easy enough to break, as well – Fuse had been smart enough to leave us a back door when he had opened up the path for us to get in. I deactivated the critical areas, leaving enough up to avoid immediate detection, then input a command to set off a drill for the Imperial personnel in five minutes. It might end up increasing the number of Imperials traveling around, but it’d also throw them off base and hopefully keep them from organizing any kind of substantive defense before it was too late. In theory, at least. I slipped through the deactivated security door and dispatched a pasty-faced lieutenant that was staring off into space at the desk in the first room. He dropped a data pad as he fell silently to the ground, which Jorgan sprinted over to pick up.

 

“Looks like they’re going to execute Fuse, sir. Guess Gorik found out what the trai-kid was up to and decided to take matters into his own hands. We better move quickly if we’re going to save that sorry son of a *****.”

I glared in the Cathar’s direction for a moment, but decided he was right. We didn’t have to dick around arguing about what nouns Jorgan used to describe Fuse. Even if we did, he’d have lost the fight, anyway. It was like picking on a small kid, only small kids were a lot cuter than Jorgan was.

 

We passed through a narrow hallway with empty communication rooms to either side – it looked as though they’d had their equipment stripped for at least a day or two. Something’s not right about this. Just not sure what. The gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach only intensified as we found the next series of rooms in similar condition and didn’t spot the first organized group of Imperials until we got to an engineering section a full three minutes into our visit. It hit me like a fist to the face – the Imperials weren’t just going to execute Fuse, they were pulling out all together. They must have learned everything they needed to and decided to cut bait on Fuse, even if it alienated Tavus and the rest of his crew.

 

“We need to move fast, people. It’s not just that they’re going to execute Fuse shortly, they’re heading off world as well. My guess is they got the information they could out of him and are going to take whatever designs and other equipment they gave back into Imperial space. Assuming that’s true, our primary objective has changed – we must stop that information from getting to the Empire. I expect us to do that and save Fuse. Move out.”

 

This time I let 4X take the lead as he entered the engineering room, drawing scattered fire from what looked like Imperial technicians. The shots didn’t do a damned thing, though, since their hold-out blasters were nowhere near strong enough to do anything to the shields 4X had. Moments later, his automatic cannons had lifted them both in the air and left their corpses straddling the consoles they had been working at only a moment before. There was a single Imperial trooper on the far size of the room, but he had barely even begun tracking 4X in his gun’s sights when I dropped him with a shot from my rifle. We kept moving, in silence.

 

There was finally some resistance two rooms further in, an otherwise mostly barren room that was the important point in the base where multiple major hallways all intersected. The Imperials had set up a barricade and placed an anti-personnel turret behind it, flanking it on either side with three troopers. A significant obstacle…if we were a squad made up only of organics.

 

I heard one of the Imperials – their lieutenant, I think – call out, “Delta Squad, open fire! For the Empire!” Then, 4X moved in and simply obliterated their makeshift holdout. It pushed the barricade aside with its foremost leg, and swept the area behind what had once been safe cover with blaster fire. The remaining Imperials, wise enough to know that their plan had failed before they could even execute it, tried to roll out of the droid’s way so they could find another refuge. Had 4X been on its own, that might have prolonged the fight a few minutes, but with the rest of the squad primed for action it was a massacre.

 

Jorgan eviscerated the two surviving Imperials to our right, shredding them with a hail of bullets that left them dead before I could even process the sight. Elara winged one on the other side in the shoulder, then blew him away with a shot to the head when he staggered from the first blow. Remind me never to get on her bad side. I finished the last two Imperials myself, catching one with a shot through the weak spot of his armor in his armpit and clubbing the already-wounded lieutenant across the face with the butt of my rifle heartbeats later.

 

Fuse was in the room after that one, locked in some sort of jury-rigged cell, a powerful energy barrier blocking entry or exit. It looked like they’d roughed him up pretty bad too – nasty bruises all over his face and dried blood on his clothes. I couldn’t help but notice the Imperial insignia on his right sleeve. Judging from the low growl over the comm, Jorgan had noticed, too. I slipped into position so that he couldn’t see Fuse any more, and made sure not to give him any openings to do any talking.

 

“Lieutenant? Sir! It’s good to see you.” Fuse sounded thrilled to see me. A little too thrilled, given the circumstances that had brought us to this point. “If you can just get to the command center and input the shutdown codes, you can bring the barrier down and...do whatever you intend to do with me.”

 

I actually wasn’t entirely sure what I intended to do with him – the Thunderclap wasn’t exactly intended for holding prisoners, and Garza would surely want him delivered into her hands as soon as possible – I didn’t intend to fly all the way back to Coruscant so we could be sure Fuse was being babysat according to regulations.

 

“You hang tight here Fuse.” I started to scratch my head, only to remember I still had my armor on. “Where’s Colonel Gorik? The Imperials are pulling out sometime real soon, possibly immediately once they figure out Havoc is here. We need to capture him and secure the – your – bomb designs so he doesn’t use them against the Republic.”

 

He frowned slightly, then nodded. “That makes sense. Things were pretty hectic around here.” I bit my tongue as I refrained from questioning how he had ever made it onto Havoc with those kinds of observational skills. “Gorik’s probably up in the launch area, second floor, opposite side from where we are now. He has his office there and, I’m guessing, all of the materials you’re looking for.”

 

I nodded. “We’ll take care of Gorik first – our priority is protecting the Republic and its citizens first, then I’m coming back for you. Just don’t do anything stupid while you’re locked in there, and we’ll have you back in Republic hands in no time.” I left what the Republic would do at that point unsaid, and not just because I wasn’t completely sure myself. “How many men does Gorik have in here, anyway? We only ran into an under-strength squad and –“ I was cut off by the sudden wail of an alarm in the previous room. “The hell is that?”

 

Fuse tapped a few buttons on a data pad he somehow had in there and paled until he was lighter than Elara when he saw whatever the data was. “Gorik’s activated the failsafe in my cell’s door – it’s rigged to explode….any minute now.”

 

Well, ****.

 

“I can send someone to deactivate that device in the command center while the rest of us take care of Gorik and his men. Same plan as before; we’re Havoc…we can handle this.” I didn’t feel quite as certain as I tried to sound, though.

 

Fuse shook his head. “Not worth the risk…you….you need everyone you have to make sure you stop Gorik. He’s got at least three squads with him. Go…go on ahead, there will be plenty of time based on my readings. Take care of Gorik. I’ll still be here.”

 

I gave the Zabrak one last, lingering, look as we left the room and retraced our steps back to the hub. There was something about the way he said all of that that rubbed me wrong, but I couldn’t tell what his angle was. Didn’t really matter, though, we had to stop Gorik before we could head back down to the control room. Faster we got our business done, the faster we could get back to helping Fuse out.

 

The trip up to the second level was surprisingly easy, not even the barest hint of resistance from the Imperials. The rooms we passed were cleared out as well, further convincing me that we’d gotten lucky as hell to arrive when we did. Another few hours, even, and Gorik and his crew would have been off to another planet to test Fuse’s devices on, another planet with innocent people to kill. I wouldn’t allow that to happen.

 

We found the first of Gorik’s squads arrayed against us in the ready room for the crews of the ships that went in and out of the hangar ahead. Eight troopers and an officer, no barricade or repeating blaster, but thicker armor than the last group and entrenched behind cover. I guessed Gorik had guessed at our capabilities, if not our identity, and was going to rely on these soldiers to hold out long enough to launch whatever birds he had in the hanger. It was our job to blow that plan up.

 

I took lead this time, since using 4X as a mechanical battering ram wouldn’t be as useful in this case. I grabbed a pair of grenades out of my belt and pulled the pin on both of them, tossing one to the left and another to the right. As smoothly as a well-tuned symphony playing a favorite orchestra, the rest of my squad followed suit with their own assigned tasks. Jorgan threw a grenade of his own before bombarding the Imperials with back-to-back rounds of mortar fire. While the Imperials were engaged with him, 4X advanced on them, inexorably closing the distance until it was in melee range, and able to bring its mechanical superiority into play. I watched it stomp one Imperial in the gut with a leg and grimaced slightly, almost sympathizing with my enemy. The droid was calling out stuff that sounded straight from Republic propaganda films as it fought, too. “For the Republic! I will drive you villainous Imperial scum back to the dark abyss that spawned you!” seemed to be a personal favorite of whoever programmed it.

 

It was only moments later that I was punished for daydreaming like that, as one of the dying Imperials managed to hit me with a glancing shot to my right side. I heard Elara shouting something about letting her help me, which I didn’t understand. It wasn’t until I turned slightly to finish my attacker off and exposed the wounded area to her that I realized she needed a clearer shot at the injury. I winced as her injection of kolto hit me, but I relaxed as I felt its soothing embrace against my burnt skin.

 

The fight was over less than two minutes later. All of the Imperials were down and I was the only one on our side to get hit. Elara tried to insist on inspecting the wound, but we didn’t have time for that – Gorik might be gone at any minute, and Fuse’s timer couldn’t be all that long either. I shook my head as she kept arguing, broadcasting my response over the tactical channel “I’ll let you inspect me when we get back to the ship instead.” Not for the first time, I was thankful for the protection of the armor covering my face.

 

Gorik and his remaining men were clustered around a pair of personnel shuttles in the hangar. Apparently, his evacuation wasn’t quite as far-gone as I had thought, because the entire area was littered with boxes and containers full of material and there were multiple portable computer terminals still active, processing what looked to be bomb designs. The colonel, a balding man whose face had seen better days, didn’t see us enter at first.

 

“Colonel Gorik, I place you under arrest on behalf of Mayor Klerren and the Anchorhead Provisional Authority .” I decided it would be best to not mention our Republic affiliation for the moment.

 

The colonel and several of his men began to laugh. I wanted to shoot the one with the annoying, high-pitched, tittering laugh.“So you’re the one that has been interfering with my operation. That turned my explosives specialist. I hope you understand the amount of trouble you have caused, so you will understand the commiserate punishment I am about to inflict. You have set my program back by weeks, and forced me to both replace my designer and find an entirely new planet full of irrelevant organics to test them on.”

 

“This is your last chance, Colonel. You have committed gross crimes against the local population. If you and your men do not lay down your weapons, my men and I will be forced to open fire.” I clicked my comm twice on the tactical channel, letting the rest of the squad know that action was imminent. I hadn’t expected Gorik to listen to reason, but his attitude made it perfectly clear what kind of man he was...and wasn’t.

 

The Imperials opened fire first, one of Gorik’s captains taking a shot me with his pistol. The rest of the Imperials followed suit, lighting the hanger deck up with red and green light. They weren’t very good shots, though, as most of their bolts were nowhere near me or 4X, the only two members of the squad even partially exposed. I also noticed that Gorik had made a beeline for a safe haven behind several stacks of cargo containers. I was disgusted at how he’d abandoned his own men, but it would make taking him in alive that much easier.

 

We didn’t need any kind of sophisticated battle plan to take care of what was left of Gorik’s forces, even with their enhanced armor. Our remaining grenades killed several and flushed most of the rest out of cover. One of the other officers, armored this time, also made a dash for the safety of a shuttle; I took off after him, secure in the knowledge that the rest of my squad could handle the remnants of Gorik’s troops.

 

I caught him several steps short from the ramp, and hammered him in the face twice with my armored gauntlets. He didn’t learn, though, trying to swivel his hips to roll out from under me. I kicked him in the knee, and was rewarded with a howl of pain, but the man refused to accept when he was beaten. He drew his pistol and fired a series of shots, but I was able to grab his wrist after the first and kept him from aiming anywhere near me. I was too close for my rifle, though, and I was leaning with all my weight upon my own pistol. That left only one option; I drew my knife and brought it down with all the force I could, straight into his throat. I didn’t look at the results. Didn’t need to. Didn’t want to.

 

Jorgan dragged Gorik over to me by the collar of his uniform. All of his previous swagger and arrogance was gone, replaced by fear. No doubt, he assumed that he was going to be summarily executed by the well-armed thugs assigned to the task by the Anchorhead authorities. I was about to question him when my comm beeped. Fuse.

 

“Fuse? What’s the situation down there? We have Gorik in custody, so we should be on our way back down.”

 

His voice was distant, strained. “No joy, Lieutenant. The override has already been activated. There’s nothing you can do. Take Gorik and his designs back to the Republic…and remember me…as well as you can.”

 

That wasn’t right. “We still have time, Fuse. Just tell me how to get to the command center. We’ll crack the password on the override and stop it. We can get you out of there, Fuse.”

 

“No. No, you can’t. It’s okay though, Lieutenant. I’ve made my mistakes, I’ve tried to make up for them. Sometimes, you can’t.”

 

Fatalism was a load of crap, and I wasn’t going to give up on him that easily. “Damn it, Fuse, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” I’d barely finished the sentence when the entire structure started shaking and a dull roar started. It’s too late. You left him behind. I swallowed hard. “After whatever happens,happens, I’m coming down there, Fuse.”

 

“I don’t think it’ll matter, Lieutenant. It’s okay though. I’m just sorry I couldn’t serve under someone worthy of the Havoc name and rank, like you.”

 

I tried to say something, but couldn’t. The roar got louder, and the shaking intensified. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was all over.

 

“Fuse?" I paused, giving him a chance to respond. " Lieutenant Bazren?” My voice sounded weak to my ears, like a small boy’s. “Vanto?”

 

Nothing but static. And rage. I stormed over to where Jorgan was watching Gorik and pushed past the Cathar, firmly enough that I heard the start of a protest over the comm. I gripped the colonel on either side of his collar and threw him against the wall, holding him in place while he squirmed helplessly.

 

“G*d damn it! He was just a karking kid. A damn kid who got his head turned by a Republic hero scum like you managed to coerce and corrupt. And now he’s dead. On my watch.” My fists roared as loudly as my voice as I hit him in the face, and then all over. “You vile piece of ****. You’re the reason why the galaxy isn’t a safe place for the people that matter the most.” I could almost picture Gorik on Ithaca, too.

 

“Was that the Zabrak?” He laughed as he coughed up some blood. “So typical of an alien. Weak-minded, easily tricked. It’s a wonder we haven’t domesticated his species for use as farm animals.”

 

This time, my fist caught his jaw just right and he slipped into unconsciousness. It was just as well, too, because my feet didn’t feel connected to the ground beneath me. Another person that was counting on you dead because of it. Another person you couldn’t save. Another notch on your list of failures.

 

I didn’t feel myself angrily carving the Maker's shield into the wall to remember Fuse by, didn't see Jorgan pulling me aside or directing me back to the speeder, didn’t hear Elara going through the psychological checklist with me, and didn’t see 4 X picking the colonel up as easily as a child carries a ragdoll. The last one was probably a good thing, because I don’t think Gorik would have survived the ride back to Anchorhead.

 

The next thing I remembered was sitting on my bed, back in my cabin aboard the Thunderclap. It was dark; lights and vidscreen off, silent as a tomb too. It was better this way, easier to forget all the **** I’d failed at. Fuse had screwed up back on Ord Mantell, but he’d also been a stupid kid that hadn’t known better. And now, he was dead. Because I wasn’t smart enough to figure out what was going on, because I wasn’t fast enough to stop it anyway, because whenever I got to know someone, there was a good chance they’d end up dead sooner rather than later.

 

There was a light knocking at my door. Without thinking, I whispered “Come on in,” realizing too late that I didn’t want anyone else there with me. Especially not her.

 

Elara seemed caught between two thoughts, as she started toward the bed, but then stopped and hovered just inside the doorway, a concerned expression on her face. “Sir, you haven’t left your cabin for twelve hours. I-we – were concerned.” Her eyes said a lot more than that, though. She’s wondering if you’re going to let her down too. If she’s going to pay the price for your failures.

 

“I’m fine. Just stressed.” I tried to casually push the bottle under the bed further back with my foot, but misjudged the amount of force needed and gave the game up with a loud clank.

 

This time, Elara didn’t hesitate. She moved to the bed in one smooth motion, and sat down next to me. Normally that would have set me on edge more than any mission could, but I wasn’t really in the mood for reacting to anything. “Sir, you are not well. Please, this isn’t the time for heroics.”

 

I laughed crazily. “Heroics, ha. If I were capable of heroics we wouldn’t be here right now. Some karking hero I am. Ask my mom if I’m a hero. Or my dad.” My voice rose as I got on a roll. “Or my sisters or my brother or Ariel or my friends or all of gosh darn Ithaca. Ask Fuse what good my heroics are, or the people in Anchorhead that got blown to pieces. I’m no karking hero, Elara, far from it.”

 

She put her hand across my back, resting it on my right shoulder. I leaned in, instinctively more than anything else, and took in a breath of her sweet-smelling perfume.

 

“Sir, I realize what happened to Fuse was upsetting, but it was not your fault. What happened to your family was not your fault, either. You were not in a position to do anything, and could not have done anything even if you had been.” She took a deep breath, the same kind I did when I was about to say something stupid, which was quite often. “You are an exemplary officer in so many ways, Sir, and your squad…looks up to you because of it. We want to help you however we can, but we cannot help you if you take on every burden as your own.”

 

I stared at the wall. I wasn’t really sure what to say to that, anyway.

 

“I – we – the squad, I mean…we have seen you in action. We know that you put your best effort in every time, that you have devoted yourself to serving others.” She bit on her slip before continuing. “But you should not do that by wholly abandoning your duties to yourself…or your ability to value the things and people around you.”

 

“You don’t think I do that?” I eyed her curiously, even more so after I caught the faintest hint of a blush spreading across her cheeks.

 

“I think…I think that is, perhaps, a topic I am not suited to discuss.”

 

I’d never known her to be evasive like this. “I don’t understand. You obviously have an opinion on this, Elara. I’d like to hear it. I value what you have to say.”

 

She smiled prettily for a moment before returning the serious expression to her face. “I believe you may have decided that the best way to avoid reliving the pain of what happened to you is to avoid emotional attachments whenever you can. Only, you are not an unemotional person. You are warm and caring, and you naturally make others want to be close to you even when you do not mean to.”

 

“So you’re sayin’ I care too much, even when I try not to care at all. I guess I’m a failure at my own neuroses, too.”

 

“No, Sir. I just mean…you are afraid of getting hurt, but end up being hurt anyway because you take in only the bad and refuse to accept the good when it comes to your interpersonal relationships.” She paled somewhat. “I apologize if I have overstepped my bounds.”

 

“No. Not at all.” I wished I had something clever to say. To make her think I was smart, to make her laugh, anything to let her know what I felt. She’s more right than you want to admit. “Anyway, I better get some sleep. Briefing with Garza and all. Plus we have your meeting with Kalor too, don’t we?”

 

“You remembered.” She sounded almost breathless as she smiled. I slipped under the sheets while she regained her composure. “Do not be afraid to reach out to us, Sir. Your support, your kindness and humanity…they mean more to me than you realize. To us. The squad.”

 

I smiled slightly as she reminded me of myself.

 

“I will let you rest, Sir. I hope you realize that I am only here to support you, and not to be a burden.” I shook my head at her to let her know that she needn’t worry about that. As I lay back, I felt her weight removed from my bed, but also felt her move toward me instead of the door. I felt something warm on my forehead, I wasn’t sure what. “Please take care of yourself, Sir. You are worth more than you let yourself realize.” Her voice was suddenly back to business after that. “Good night.”

 

She was gone before I could say anything.

 

Just as well. I rarely had anything intelligent to say anyway.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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Different colored text is Ayrs dreaming. Mild sexual references in one of them.

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It was surprisingly cold for a desert planet that night - some part of me suspected that Jorgan was behind that, but I'd have to inspect the air filters in my cabin when I was more awake. Regardless of the reason, it was only uneasily that I drifted off to deeper sleep.

 

I was at the top of Pike’s Hill, where I used to take in the sunsets whenever I could. I was sitting there, just staring into space, when I felt an armored hand on my shoulder. Startled, I jumped up and turned to find Mom in her old SpecForces gear, helmet cradled in her left arm – she’d let her hair down, but otherwise looked like she had the day I left Ithaca. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug to make up for the thousands I had been unable to give.

 

“I missed you too, Ayrs.” She smiled as she patted me lightly on the back. Her voice was as warm as I remembered it, far warmer than anyone else’s had ever been. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

 

“You have? I don’t understand.”

 

Mom laughed and ruffled my hair to annoy me, like she always used to do. She made a sweeping gesture upwards and outwards, to the shining stars above. “Do you remember what I taught you?”

 

I gave her a sly grin. “Don’t stay out too late, or the night wolves will eat me?”

 

She snorted and cuffed me across the back of my head. “You were born for bigger things than picking fruit and loitering in Penelope, Ayrs. There’s a galaxy out there that needs people like you to serve and protect it.”

 

"Yeah, I remember." We stood there in silence as I surveyed the twinkling stars and chewed on my lip. “But what if there isn’t anything out there for me?”

 

“Even then, Ayrs.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulder, resting her hand on my bicep. “There are good people out there fighting and dying for what they believe in and what they love every day. You owe it to them to keep fighting, and you owe it to yourself.” She forcibly turned me to face her. “I didn’t raise you to let down the people around you. They’re counting on you to do your part.” She relinquished her grip with a faint smile. "Besides, you're the one choosing not to have anything to fight for, aren't you?"

 

I shrugged. “I’m doing my best. It’s just hard sometimes.”

 

“Life’s hard, darling. People like you can make it easier for the rest of us, though. Even when times are rough. Especially when times are rough.” She pulled me in for another hug, slapping me roughly on the back. “Don’t make me cry in front of your dad, though.”

 

I hadn't noticed his arrival. He stood there, watching us impassively in his brown Jedi robes. I didn’t need the Force to recognize the twitch of his lips and warmth in his eyes, though.

 

“Your mom’s right, Ayrs. She’ll never live it down if I see her like that.” He winked conspiratorially at Mom; she merely snorted derisively. “She’s also right that you’re only doing more harm by letting yourself be governed by your fear.”

 

“I –,” I didn’t know what to say.

 

He drew his saber and activated it, letting the blue glow wash over us as the blade hummed. “We have always served in our own ways – as Jedi, as soldiers, as peacekeepers, however the galaxy needed us. Who would defend those in need if we will not?” He turned and looked at me questioningly. “You may not be a Jedi, but you have the potential to be your own beacon of light in the midst of great darkness. But you never will be if you do not learn to let go of your pain, and grow from it instead.”

 

“That’s easier said than done, Pa.” My voice was wobbly, untrustworthy. “I can’t just flip a switch. It’s not like I have your Jedi voodoo training.”

 

Pa smiled. “Somehow I think we’re better off without you waving a lightsaber around.” Mom joined him in laughing at that; I remained silent as I tried to decide whether to be insulted or not. “We’ll always be here with you, Ayrs. Always behind you, always supporting you, always serving as an example that you’ll ignore since you enjoy making your life difficult.”

 

I winced and grinned ruefully. “You know me too well, Pa.”

 

He nodded. “I do. And I know you aren’t the kind of man to drown in your own sorrows while others suffer. I know you’re not the kind of person to deny others the warmth of your company and love. You just need to know that yourself.” Pa glanced over at Mom, a furtive look that I couldn’t identify. “You know, your mother still expects you to give her grandkids.”

 

Mom slapped the back of his head, but she was still smiling. “Don’t listen to your father about that. All the time locked away in that Jedi Temple scrambled his brains. Do listen to the rest sweetheart – we didn’t raise you to doubt yourself and cause yourself pain. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you – don’t be afraid to live it.”

 

Pa smiled. "Don't stop living just because we did. That's not how the Force would want it. That's not how we want it." He glanced down and tapped his chronometer. “Time to go, I’m afraid. Make us proud, Ayrs.” He tossed a jaunty salute before interlocking his elbow with Mom’s. They turned and began walking toward the horizon, fading slowly into the light fog that was rolling in as the afternoon made way for early evening.

 

I was breathing faster now, I always did whenever I remembered Mom. She’d been the one to convince me to join up, the one whose shoulder I had cried on when Ariel and I fought, the one that patched up my scrapes and bruises and the one that made sure I understood real good when those scrapes and bruises were my fault.

 

When I closed my eyes again, Mom was gone, replaced by the person in the galaxy I'd let down most of all.

 

“Ver, I -.” You what? You’re sorry you let her get enslaved by the Empire? “I can’t believe it’s you.”

 

She looked different than when I had last seen her – her hair was down, bangs draped over part of her face. Her eyes were bright and lively, but she looked completely worn out by her whatever trials she had faced…or was facing. But she was alive, and we were together again, even if we weren’t, really.

 

“You remember me.” It was a statement, not question. “I worried you might forget with the high profile life of a Republic war hero distracting you. That would have been disappointing.”

 

I frowned, unable to tell if she was just being herself or if I was somehow missing something. Veresia merely smiled mischievously as she contemplated my reaction.

 

“Of course I haven’t forgotten, Ver, how could I? You, most of all.”

 

She snorted. “Ariel, most of all, Ayrs. Not that I blame you, who would take their annoying little sister over the attractive redhead from next door.” The lines on her face seemed to disappear, replaced by the wry smile that Veresia had always worn back on Ithaca when she knew something you didn’t.

 

Two can play at this game. “That’s not true, Ver. I preferred Ally to both of you.” I crossed my arms across my chest and stuck my tongue out at…whatever was passing for my sister. “Besides, she always knew I was scared of you.”

 

Veresia smiled sadly. “If only a snarky younger sister was the only thing to be scared of in the galaxy. We learned otherwise the day that fire rained from the sky.”

 

“I should have been there to fight for you,” my answer was a monotone whisper. “My place was with my family.”

 

She placed a gentle hand on the back of my neck. “Your place is still with your family. But also with those you learn to love along the way. You can’t anchor yourself in the past, Ayrs, or you’ll drown yourself in it. And who will find me, if you are not there to look?”

 

There really wasn't much of an answer to that. “I will find you. I promised you I would, and I am a man of my word.”

 

Veresia stood up, and brushed some dust off her clothes, now some sort of black, hooded, robe. “Then learn to let go of what holds you back and find a future as you find me. You can’t bring the rest back, but we can be family, along with anyone else you are willing to open yourself to.” She disengaged her hand from mine and began walking away. It almost looked like she was floating.

 

“Will I ever see you again?” I winced as I asked. Stupid question. Pointless question. An Ayrs question.

 

“If I have anything to say about it, we will.” She smirked slightly. “As long as you stop moping about all the time and learn to live a little.” She winked, and was gone.

 

I woke with a start, drenched in sweat. Unconsciously, my hand fumbled with the locket around my neck, the sword and shield of the Maker, inscribed with His words.

 

Offer compassion to those in need. Protect those too weak to protect themselves. Seek justice for those that are wronged. Be brave in the face of fear. Serve as an example to those around you.

 

Pretty words, words that were easy to say you wanted to live by, but I had never been quite sure if they were anything beyond that. I had never truly been comfortable with my faith, not like Mom or many of the others I grew up around. For them, their beliefs were something that they integrated seamlessly into the fabric of their lives as a whole; for me, it was a wound that remained open and festered. It wasn’t that going to services was a bad thing, though, it was that I never felt like I was entirely sure if I believed too...or if I only wanted to pretend that I did.

 

For years, I’d wanted to blame my ignorance and uncertainty on being a young, dumb, kid….but now I was an older, dumb, adult, and nothing had changed. If anything, losing Ithaca had only piled on more t because doubts and questions. If the Maker was real, why had He allowed it to happen? Was there some ‘greater plan’, like the cleric at the academy had told me? Was He indifferent to the everyday events of the galaxy, even terrible ones?

 

Half a decade later, I still didn’t have any more answers, just a symbol of something I didn’t necessarily even believe in hanging around my neck. Did I wear it because I believed in the Maker and everything related to Him? Because I believed in the message it carried, if not everything else? Or, maybe you wear it because it might be the last thing you have to remember your family by. I hoped that wasn’t true – my sister was out there, somewhere. I was going to find her. I am going to find her.

 

In the meantime, I kept that locket right where it was. The message was worth something, even if I didn’t know whether the rest of it was. I still hoped to get some answers, someday, but I recognized that early morning on Tatooine was neither the time nor the place for philosophical musings. There would always be another time for figuring this stuff out, anyway. Unless there isn’t. That thought reminded me of my last, greatest, failure with Ariel as I drifted back to sleep.

 

And then, she was there, waiting for me by the cherry tree. We used to meet there after school every day, our little way of ensuring a moment of sanity and happiness on even the worst day. She was wearing her favorite blue dress, which always seemed to go so well with her brilliant red hair – she looked as though I’d never left her. Her blue eyes shone with life that reminded me of better times. I felt Ariel’s warmth against me as she hugged me and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me gently on the lips. It’d been so many years since I’d last held her, so long since I’d last seen her smile. I’d thought Rissa could replace her, but all I’d been doing was lying to myself and being an ******e to Ris.

 

“Ayrs, I’m glad we’re finally together again.” She motioned for me to sit down next to her on the overturned tree trunk that was suddenly there. “It feels like forever since we last sat down and really talked.”

 

“Sure does,” I replied stupidly as I played for time. “I never...” I wasn’t up to saying anything more, so I sat down beside her and hunched over. She leaned against me like she always used to do, sighing softly I sighed along with her. “I never meant to hurt you, Ariel. I never wanted you to think I didn’t care, even after I left.” I hung my head, feeling the weight of years of knowing how badly I’d screwed everything up.

 

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Ayrs. People change, that’s how life works.” She laughed heartily. “Besides, now I get to see you as the real Republic hero you always wanted to be.” She followed her statement up with a playful elbow to my ribs. Judging from the way it dug into my midsection, I probably needed to cut back on the nerf burgers a bit.

 

“Some hero, though. Wasn’t around when you needed me, wasn’t the man you needed even before that.” I chuckled grimly. “What kind of hero leaves his girl to die? His family too. Some karking hero I am.” I twisted my body around a bit so she wouldn’t see my hands shaking. “I loved you, Ariel, and I didn’t show it like I should have.”

 

Ariel simply smiled as she frantically readjusted the hair I’d clumsily messed up. “You always played the martyr too often, Ayrs.” Her comment stung, mostly because it was true. “Did what happened change the good times we had together? Does your self-loathing make you feel better than that week your mom went to the capital for the treaty negotiations?”

 

I suddenly felt really hot under my collar. “Uh, no. I guess not.”

 

She caressed my cheek slowly and softly with her hand. “We meant a lot to each other, Ayrs, and that doesn’t end simply because we’re not together any more. You shouldn’t forget the good of what we had because of some bad that happened afterward.”

 

“It wasn’t just some bad, Ariel. I left you on Ithaca, discarded you like you meant nothing to me. When you reached out I was too much of an ******e to reach back until it was too late. Until you were gone.” I slumped back over, as my head suddenly felt really heavy. “I should have been there for you. With you. You deserved better.”

 

Ariel sighed softly. “I was happy when we were together. When you left, it hurt me a lot, but that didn’t mean I forgot about the good times we had.” Her voice got quieter and a little accusatory at the same time. “It didn’t mean we had to stop being friends, either. It felt like you were avoiding me…or avoiding anything that reminded you of what we had.” She gave me a mournful look that made me feel guilty as hell.

 

“I…I didn’t want it to be like that.” That much was true, but I’d let it be like that, anyway. “Guess I was feeling too sorry for myself to pull my head out of my ***.” I smiled ruefully as I gently caressed her cheek with the back of my hand. “You always did say that was a habit of mine.”

 

She laughed at that, though she covered her mouth with her hand to deny me a complete victory. “Why aren’t you making another girl laugh like this now, Ayrs?”

 

I quailed under her suddenly very direct and intense stare. “Well…it’s just been kind of awkward lately. With all the missions, and all. It’s not like I haven’t been looking or anything.” I paused, then decided to double down on my deception. “Besides, I had something for a while, it just didn’t work out.”

 

“Uh huh.” Ariel had always been great at making you feel as dubious about what you had just said as she did. “And how much of that was you latching on to someone to paper over what was really bothering you?” She arched her eyebrow at me and stared. “After all, we know you’re so good about talking about your feelings.” She rolled her eyes and huffed with feigned annoyance.

 

“Maybe I don’t like talking about my feelings, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know when I care about someone.” She gave me a look. “Alright, maybe I wasn’t honest with myself about what I had with Rissa, that doesn’t mean I’m going to lie to myself in the future.”

 

Ariel laughed lightly as she ruffled my hair. “You have to stop being afraid, Ayrs, or you’ll always be wondering what might have been. You will never find love again if you are afraid to open your eyes and look for it.” She stood up and began heading back to her house. "If it's my memory that stops you, don't let it Ayrs. I want you to love. I want you to live."

 

She was gone before I could think of anything to say. Instead, I mulled over what she had said, which was harder than it would seem given that she was right. Completely right, damn it.

 

I rolled over in bed, eager to escape the endless parade of questions.

 

There was something in the bed with me, though. I wrapped my arm around it, trying to puzzle out what it was without turning on the lights. Not something. Someone, Her quiet gasp and soft, warm, skin told me all I needed to know.

 

“El-Sergeant? Elara? What the kark are you doing here?” I was paralyzed by indecision.

 

She had had her back facing me, but turned around so we were looking at each other. I couldn’t help but appreciate the way her tank top and shorts clung to her, or notice that she almost seemed to be glowing. I couldn’t see every detail of her face, but it was as if her very being was a light. I felt a sudden tightness in my throat.

 

“Sir, I hope I’m not intruding.” She gave a sly smile, which only confused me more. As of late, it felt like Elara always confused me, no matter where I ran into her. Her voice suddenly became rather husky. “I thought you might…debrief me.”

 

I felt a sudden tightness in my throat – and my pants. “Uh, what do you – sure?” I scrunched my face up as I wondered what my subconscious was trying to tell me.

 

Elara slid her hand under the sheets and fastened itself around my lower back, pulling me in a bit closer. “I fear you have been guilty of inappropriately neglecting to inform me of our situation.”

 

“Our…situation?”

 

She placed her right index finger over my mouth, making a shushing noise as she did so. I was vaguely reminded of life as a misbehaving school kid. “It occurred to me that you have been harboring romantic feelings for me, Sir, yet you have gone out of your way to avoid admitting it.”

 

My subconscious was rapidly approaching C2-N2 on my list of things I hated.

 

“In fact,” she continued, “It has become increasingly clear that you are afraid to admit it even to yourself.” She abruptly dropped the seductive act and grew quite serious. “I have felt the same way about you for some time but I – I feared I would only make things worse for you.” She moved her finger away from my mouth and rested a soft, delicate, hand on my chest. I hoped she couldn’t feel how fast my heart was beating. “You bear a great burden, made worse by your attempts to deny it. I would like to be there for you, if you would let me.”

 

There was only one thing left to do. I gripped her around the waist and pulled her in, undoing her bun with one hand while I explored with the other. She let a small squeal of delight slip out as I started, before largely mirroring my movements. Our lips met, and – for once – I suddenly felt whole. I felt like the clumsy teenager that had fumbled around with the buttons on Ariel’s blouse our first time, but I somehow knew Elara wouldn’t care. I didn’t care either. I felt Elara move her hands underneath my shirt, and let her pull it off and toss it aside, gasping a bit as I then felt her dig her nails into my back as we kissed.

 

“I should have told you sooner, Elara,” I managed to squeak out when I pulled her off of me for a moment. “But I was afraid…afraid to get hurt. Afraid to hurt someone else. Afraid to lose another person I cared about. I didn’t want to hurt again.” I realized I’d hurt her, anyway, when I looked into her eyes. “All I did was kark things up, though.” I bit my lip, then took the plunge. “But if you’ll still have me, I’m your commander. I mean, man.”

 

She looked at me with her brilliant green eyes and offered a comforting smile. “As long as we have each other, then we will face whatever the galaxy throws at us together.” I barely even noticed that she’d removed both of our shorts. I didn’t say anything, just slipped my hands under her tank top and started to lift it over her shoulders and head. As I kissed her again and tossed her top onto the floor, I let her guide me in with her hands, her grip firm and gentle all at once. The look in her eyes let me know all I needed to.

 

“Elara, I want you to know. I think I lo-,” I cut myself off as I realized that she smelled different. She felt different, too. She felt…furry.

 

I opened my eyes and found myself face to face with Jorgan.

 

We screamed in unison.

 

Jorgan recovered his composure first. “Sir, I admire you as a leader, but this….this is not what I signed up for.” He wrinkled his brow and quickly rolled off the bed and began striding purposefully to the door. He stopped a couple of feet away. “What the hell were you thinking, Sir?”

 

“I thought you were Elara.” I frowned, realizing what that sounded like. “I mean I was with Elara. Then I was with you, I don’t know why.”

 

“Get yourself together, Sir.” Jorgan shook his head in disgust, and was gone.

 

I was covered in sweat and breathing heavily when I woke. I double checked for fur, but was relieved to find none. My shirt was off, though, lying on the floor where Elara had thrown it in the dream. Karking literal-*** dreams. I thought only the karking Jedi were supposed to get those. I forced the covers off of me and shivered as naked skin met cold air.

 

I’d never been one to believe the stories of the Maker talking to someone or the Maker granting a particularly devout person their greatest wish, but I knew that there’d been something different about those dreams. Not wrong, though. If anything, I felt like I’d gained back some of the time that I’d lost when I’d been more interested in sabotaging myself than finding a way to build a new life. I didn’t know what any of it meant, but I did realize that I had taken a step toward making things right. Now I just needed to begin walking that path, no matter how perilous it was.

 

I decided to go for a walk to clear my head, but stopped by the mirror first, looking over my reflection as I contemplated all of the contradictory feelings flowing through me. After a couple of minutes, I pointed an accusatory finger at my reflection, aiming it at whatever dark corner of my mind had put me through that ordeal. “Go **** yourself.”

 

I felt a little better after that.

 

As I left the ship, I paused as I passed the squad’s bunk room and contemplated the woman inside. I had feelings for her - there was no real point in denying it – but I was still scared beyond belief. It was one thing to admit it to yourself, it’s quite another to admit it to the person that matters. Especially when it might not just be your own life you’re karking up by doing it. The moment of insanity passed, and I kept moving. Down the ramp, off the ship, out of the spaceport.

 

The twin suns of Tatooine were just beginning their ascent over the horizon, presenting me with an absolutely breathtaking view as I stood out in the deserted street off of the hangar area. I walked toward the city limits, away from the buildings and lights and everything unnatural that might interfere with the view, and found a small outcropping of rock to use as vantage point.

 

I didn’t know why I had had those dreams, didn’t know if I would ever find out. In truth, it didn’t really matter, either. Whatever they were, why ever they had come, I recognized the truth in what they had told me. It didn’t make sense that I could more easily face an Imperial firing squad than my own feelings. That I could tell a thousand terrible jokes to a complete stranger but couldn’t let the people around me know that I appreciated and cared for them. First, I would need to figure out what, specifically, I needed to do to fix that, but I needed to do it.

 

Life was too short to be a karking coward about the things that actually mattered. What was the point of braving impossible missions if I didn’t have the guts to build the kind of relationships that were worth fighting for? Why should I bother claiming to search for Veresia if I was too afraid to deal with what I might find. More importantly, why the hell did Jorgan show up, and do I need to kill him for it?

 

“Come here often?” I heard from behind me. Klerren. He smiled wanly as he stood next to me. “I come here every morning to remind myself of why I’m here and what I’m here to do.” He squinted as he looked in my direction. “What about you, soldier?”

 

“The same, I think.” No, that wasn’t entirely true. “Sometimes it’s nice to get some fresh air to think about things, too.”

 

“Have a certain sergeant distracting you?”

 

“What?” Kark, was it really that obvious? “No, nothing like that. Just have a lot on my mind.” I took a breath. “You ever…feel like you’re being followed by your past?”

 

The mayor laughed heartily. “Every time another lawyer calls about alimony. But I don’t think that’s what you mean. Not exactly, at least.”

 

I shook my head. “I lost almost everyone I cared about a few years ago, and it feels like I’ve never quite managed to get past that.”

 

Klerren gave an uncertain shrug. “Doesn’t sound like the kind of thing you get past easily, son. There’s nothing wrong with that, either. That’s what friends and the people around you are for.”

 

“I know. It’s been so long since I tried to actually face it that I almost became another person. Afraid to get close to anyone in case I let them down or lost them too. Afraid to admit when I needed help. Afraid to admit I was afraid, even.” I laughed nervously. Why the hell was I telling Klerren of all people? “Guess I got lucky that I had the right people around me to pick me up whenever I stumbled.”

 

He slapped me on the back playfully. “You’ve also got a good head on your shoulders. You’re a good man, don’t ever convince yourself otherwise. Most people would have gladly let a few of my people die to get their mission accomplished a little easier, or wouldn’t have given a damn about the Zabrak kid. Don’t sell yourself short. The Republic is lucky to have you.”

 

“I appreciate it, Sir. I think I’m coming to realize some of that myself. Realize and accept it more importantly.”

 

“Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow.

 

“For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not thinking of simply getting through the day one moment at a time. I’m not thinking about my family only as something I lost and feel badly about – I remember the good times we had and the love that we shared. I don’t feel quite so afraid.”

 

He smiled but didn’t say anything, and the silence somehow compelled me to let it all out.

 

“I remember the boy that wasn’t afraid to dream of being something more. I remember exploring the world around me without being held back by doubt and fear. I remember wanting to be a leader for those around me, wanting to push myself to ever-greater heights, no matter how hard it was to do. I remember not being afraid to tell someone I loved them, or letting them know that ‘friend’ didn't come close to describing how much they meant to me. I remember not being so afraid of life that I was afraid to live.”

 

Klerren didn't say anything as I surveyed the scene in front of me; the pink-orange glow was worth a thousand words. Finally coming to grips with yourself, far more. Remembering what life had been like before you became more frightened of it than dying....most of all.

 

"I remember me.”

Edited by Lesaberisa
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Arys had n interesting way of coming to grips with everything.

 

The idea first came to me awhile ago, actually, in a story I did in the Short Fic thread (last story in this post), where Ayrs would go through some of this on Voss during the vision quest, but it ended up coming too late in the (in-game) story for me - I didn't want Ayrs to be all mopey and self-sabotaging for that long. It's just not interesting to see him repeating the same experiences/reactions over and over. So, I let it kind of die and put it on my list of "maybe i'll use this in some other way".

 

I reworked the Tatooine stuff (ingame, Ayrs saves Fuse), and then had to figure out how Ayrs would actually get from "I'm getting tired of this ****" to "so I have to change things". Almost everyone he would talk to are dead except his sister (unavailable) and Elara (too early, since they're still at the "damnit, just kiss already" stage). Jorgan isn't one to have a meaningful talk about things with, Ayrs doesn't trust or like psychologists, and he doesn't get along with the rest of his family on Kuat.

 

He's not "fixed" or all better, but now I can focus more on Ayrs being constructive about his life rather than constantly reacting negatively/self-destructively to things around him. He just needed a little push, whether it was from the Force, the Maker, his own subconscious self, or his writer that wants to move on to more amusing/happier stuff with him ;)

Edited by Lesaberisa
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When I got back to the ship, I discovered that Fauler had scheduled a debriefing for us at ten that morning. I felt a pang of irritation run up and down my spine – we’d have little to add that Teela and her crew couldn’t speak about – but I had the feeling the SIS man was already annoyed with us and didn’t want to make anything else. It’d probably help Elara with whatever paperwork she needed to do, anyway, and would push back needing to talk to Kalor and Garza as well.

 

Kark – Garza. Going to be a real joy explaining all of this to her.

 

Somehow, it didn’t really feel like that mattered, though. I wasn’t feeling good, though, more like better because I didn’t have that ten ton anvil resting on my chest. It made a lot of things easier, though. I didn’t flinch quite as much at the sight of 4X running through its daily diagnostics and even managed to get through a short conversation with Jorgan without resorting to amateur antics. Hell, I even made it through Elara looking at me without feeling like my intestines were twisting all over themselves or like the floor was giving out below me. I barely even stuttered, which brightened my mood even more.

 

Progress.

 

I felt a slight spring in my step as we took a speeder over to Fauler’s office, leaving 4X behind to avoid further alienating the local populace. There were a couple of staffers in the foyer this time, but neither of them paid us much attention after they saw the logos on our armor. After we got off on the underground level, I took a quick peek at Fauler’s briefing area and was pleased to see the weasel-faced Czerka employee wasn’t around. Even if he’d jumped ship to help us out, he’d always given me the creeps.

 

“Ah, Lieutenant, good to see you.” Fauler waved us over with a remarkable lack of enthusiasm.

 

“Heya, handsome.” A lack of enthusiasm that Teela more than made up for. I wished I had my helmet on, but it might hamper communications. I settled on nodding briskly at her and then staring anywhere but in her direction.

 

“Representative Fauler. Teela. Crew.” I nodded at the others, glancing curiously at Riggs. He looked a little redder than the last time we’d seen him, and he was staring daggers at Jorgan. I guessed he wasn’t as over having his gun taken from him as the Cathar had hoped. “How the hell are you guys doing?” I gave them all a warm, convincing, grin as I carefully placed Jorgan between Riggs and me.

 

“That ‘soldier’ stole my gun!” Riggs’ voice took on an annoying nasal tone when he got upset, which didn’t improve my initial impression of him at all. “I thought Republic soldiers were supposed to protect people, not steal their property.”

 

“He’s sorry. Very sorry.” I held my smile a little longer, hoping it would convince someone of something.

 

Elara was a lifesaver, as always. “Per regulations, you will be adequately compensated for Sergeant Jorgan’s actions. Rest assured, the incident will be part of the official report.”

 

“There’s an official report?” I gave Elara a puzzled look. She seemed unusually annoyed by my question.

 

“I don’t want it in no official report. I want an apology.” Riggs’ jaw was firmly set, and his posture suggested he wasn’t bluffing, as much as the situation suddenly felt like something from grade school. “He didn’t have any right to take Flashy from me like that.”

 

It sounded like Teela’s eyes had rolled out of their sockets.

 

“Say you’re sorry to the nice man, Jorgan.” I elbowed the sergeant in the ribs, hoping he’d turn and face me to see my expression. Sadly, my hopes were dashed – he merely scowled at Riggs and remained silent. “Please, so we can focus on more important things, like what we’re having for lunch.”

 

Elara coughed softly as Jorgan finally roused himself to respond. “I am sorry you allowed me to take your gun, Riggs.”

 

“Well, that was just peachy. My heart’s warmed already.” Teela – gently – wrapped her arm around Riggs’ shoulder and directed him back into place with her crew. “Now, let’s get this ‘debriefing’ out of the way, so I can get paid.”

Fauler gave her a look that suggested more than mere annoyance. “Yes. Let’s discuss the Czerka facility. My sources reported explosions and a significant amount of blaster fire.”

 

“That sounds about right.” Teela gave him a smug smile. “So, since that’s over with, time to talk pay.”

 

“This is not over with.” Fauler raised a fist in frustration, before calming down slightly and leaving it dangling by his side. “I want to know what the hell you people did down there and whether there’s any kind of blowback I need to worry about.”

 

“We found some kind of alien device, ancient. It had a holo-projector that displayed some kind of advanced virtual intelligence, too.” Teela recited the events as if they were the minutes from a particularly boring meeting of a Huttball uniform knitting club. “It started babbling something about taking over the galaxy, so I blew it up.”

 

“You blew it up.” Fauler was either extremely good at deadpan delivery or he was dead inside.

 

“Yep!” Teela gave him a cheerful grin. “We also killed the son of one of Czerka’s top executives, too. That was pretty impressive work by me and Soldier Boy over there.”

 

“Soldier Boy?” For once, Jorgan and I spoke with one voice.

 

“Not you, Grumpy. Handsome.” She winked at me, and it took all of my self-control not to flinch. “Anything else you need to know, Fauler, or can I get paid? I’ve got blockades to run, shipments to make…you know how it is.”

 

I got the distinct impression Fauler was in danger of swallowing his own tongue. “Let me get this straight. You found a potentially valuable artifact and blew it up. One of his soldiers decided to steal one of your crew’s weapons as a prank. And you killed the son of a Czerka executive. Anything else I missed?”

 

“Killing the son was self-defense,” I noted helpfully.

 

He gave me a baleful look. “Regardless, you’ve made a hell of a mess here, but it sounds like you did the best you could, given the circumstances. I’m going to have a fun time explaining this to my supervisors, though.” Fauler rubbed his forehead – he looked to have aged a decade I the past ten minutes

 

“Just as long as I get paid,” Teela piped in. The rest of her crew was getting restless, too, especially Riggs. He had a squirrely look about him that I didn’t quite like.

 

“Yes, I’ll forward your payment immediately.” He made an irritated gesture in her general direction. “I’d thank you for your service, but I’m sure you’d charge me for that too.”

 

Teela merely smiled innocently at him as she moved toward the elevator back up . Her crew followed her, and I was about to as well, until Fauler motioned for me to wait. I halted immediately, and waited as the smuggler and her people faded from view as the lift rose to the main level.

 

“I have some information from a mutual friend, Lieutenant.” Fauler’s tone was suddenly friendly, almost conspiratorial. “Senior Agent Tallin wanted you to know that he managed to find one of Sergeant Jorgan’s former squad members, and they’re on Tatooine.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

 

“Yes, a Lieutenant Torve. We’ve tracked him to some kind of Imperial facility to the south – we assume it’s some kind of processing facility for prisoners, but we can’t be sure. Senior Agent Tallin thought you might be interested.”

 

“I am. We are.” I turned to Jorgan. “Who’s this Torve guy?”

 

Jorgan’s jaw was working itself into a frenzy. “Good man, good soldier. He was my XO when I was still with the Deadeyes. I don’t understand how he could let himself get captured like that. Or his unit.” He balled his hands into fists. “I trained him better than that.”

 

“I’m sure you did your best, Jorgan. But don’t sell him – or your training – short; we don’t know what exactly happened to him or his men. We should wait until we get the full story first.” Jorgan growled but nodded his agreement, so I returned my attention to Fauler. “How’d you get this information, anyway? Last I heard, Senior Agent Zane was obstructing things.”

 

Fauler’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I can’t really speak to that, outside my area of involvement.” His posture suggested there was something he wasn’t saying, but I could also tell it was something I wouldn’t get out of him without resorting to tactics I wouldn’t inflict on my worst enemy. “Torve might have more answers for you, but I can’t say for sure. Just passing along what Tallin had for me. Beyond that, you’re on your own.” He grimaced as he reviewed the datapad Teela had provided him. “Perhaps it’s best I’m not involved, anyway. Between you and that smuggler…”

 

I heard someone – Jorgan, I think – suppress a laugh behind their hand.

 

“Well, we’ll go check this info out, see if it’s accurate. Either way, we’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” I surveyed his receding hairline and gave him a playful grin. “Assuming you don’t rurn out first, of course.”

 

Fauler merely gave an exasperated sigh and handed over a data pad.

 

Though Garza had given us her tacit blessing to pursue leads on Jorgan’s former unit, I knew relying on intelligence gathered thanks to personal favors I’d called in might cross the line for her, and didn’t want to court trouble by making things any more complicated than they needed to be. With that in mind, I commed 4X back at the ship and let it know to remain on guard there – the rest of us should be able to handle a minor Imperial outpost on our own. And, if not, you won’t be in command of Havoc long enough to have to worry about the consequences.

 

Jorgan piloted our speeder south out of Anchorhead, following the established path as best he could – the local support staff had warned us that straying too far out of it would often lead to engine fatigue in speeders, causing them to malfunction – I didn’t relish the idea of trying to hoof it back to Anchorhead from the middle of the damn desert.

 

The trip itself was not much of an adventure, thankfully, since Jorgan managed to keep us on course. The only real excitement came when we passed a small Imperial base that had several massive cannons arrayed around it as protection. There were a couple of Sith there, too, and they’d tried to keep up with us – one even chased us on foot and kept Force jumping after us. Strange people, the Sith. We shook him easily enough, though, and continued on our way without any further complications beyond having to navigate around a wandering dewback.

 

Fauler’s information pointed to Torve being held in a small facility built into a series of hills far to the south of Anchorhead and not far from the Imperial-run settlement of Mos Ila. I was less than pleased when our scanners revealed around a dozen people inside – even if Torve was in there, a protracted firefight would increase the chances of having our mission interrupted by some friends from Mos Ila. I frowned, calculating the possibilities in my head, and not liking any of them.

 

I owe at least an effort to Jorgan, though.

 

Elara and I hopped out of the speeder as he parked it, carefully surveying the scene to make sure we hadn’t been spotted already. The rocks provided some cover from both of the suns, which helped reduce the temperature from face-melting to merely face-burning. Still, I would take whatever breaks I could, this far from friendly territory. Further scans of the facility didn’t reveal much of value, except that the life signs were congregated away from the entrance – another small victory.

 

I led the squad in, using my shoulder to force the main door open, and my right hand to catch it before it could slam against the wall and alert the Imperials inside to our presence. Elara and Jorgan followed close behind as I sprinted across the narrow corridor, trying to ignore the glaringly bright lights above. I could hear voices in the room beyond, so I motioned to my squad mates, who nodded their understanding and took up positions to either side and behind me. I whispered a countdown from three and then kicked in the door, spraying fire at the two Imperials inside and dropping them to the ground.

 

We pressed on.

 

There was another pair of unprepared Imperials in the next room; this time it was Jorgan that took care of them. We found Torve and some of his men in the large room beyond the previous one, being guarded by an officer and two enlisted men. The Imperials managed to react to us this time, overturning a pair of tables to use for cover.

 

“You had better lay down your weapons, Republic scum. This is Imperial territory, and I’ll not have it tainted by your presence.” Great, a blowhard. “Surrender now and perhaps I will show you mercy. I can make no guarantees otherwise.”

 

I was quite satisfied when Jorgan’s mortar round disintegrated his improvised cover and threw him against the far wall. He might have been dead instead of unconscious, but I didn’t really care – too much to take care of to bother with the fate of a single Imperial moron. The other two Imperials were standing and gawking at his body, but had dropped their weapons where they stood. I waved at Jorgan to get him to stand down, then motioned at him to tie the two Imperials up with Elara’s help. The shorter one – a woman with voice that sounded like Elara’s without all the warmth and wonderfulness to it – made a small scene, but they were both safely tied up and out of our way quickly enough.

 

After locking the Imperials in the large room, we returned to the entryway. Torve and his men seemed almost nervous about talking to us – he stood unsteadily across from me, while his squad seemed to be trying to hide behind him. The patented ‘hide four men behind a single thing one’ trick.

 

“Torve?” I tried to smile at him, but I wasn’t all that convincing about it. “We’re here to rescue you.”

 

The slim man regarded me as if I had sworn an oath of loyalty to the Emperor, then shifted his attention over my shoulder to Jorgan. “Lieutenant Jorgan, Sir? What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be coming for a few months.”

 

Sergeant now, Torve.” Jorgan seemed angry about something other than his demotion, though. “What are you doing here? How did you let your unit get captured?”

 

Strangely, his former subordinate was looking more and more confused as the conversation continued. “You mean you’re not with…you came on your own?”

 

I exchanged a look with Jorgan. Who else could we possibly have been with? “What do you mean, Torve? Of course we came on our own.”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t say any more then, Sir.” Torve straightened noticeably, as if to convince himself what he was saying and doing was right. “It’s classified.”

 

“How the hell is it classified, soldier? What the hell is going on?” I decided to let Jorgan do the talking; we seemed to be on the same wavelength, anyway.

 

“It’s…classified. I can’t talk about it, Sir. I’m sorry.” Torve was starting to irritate me, but I kept quiet.

 

“Lieutenant Torve, I really should see to you and your men’s condition-“ Elara got no further before Jorgan cut her off.

 

“You tell me what the hell is going on now, Lieutenant. I didn’t name you my successor so you could weasel out of taking responsibility for your own actions or the lives of your men. Lieutenant Martell, Sergeant Dorne and I all put our necks out on the line for you. The least you can do is respect that. Spit it out, soldier.”

 

“Well, uh, you see…Sir. This was all an SIS plan.”

 

I grabbed his shoulder as he began to waver. “This was an SIS plan? The hell are you talking about, soldier?” I sensed Elara and Jorgan tensing up as well.

 

“We…we were supposed to allow ourselves to get captured by the Imps so they could track us. They were hoping to figure out where some of the more secretive Imperial prison facilities were. Follow the prisoners, find the prison.” He idly scratched his cheek. “I thought you were part of their plan when you showed up.”

 

Jorgan sighed softly and groaned. “Typical SIS, put the troops in danger and don’t do a damn thing to help them once they’re in trouble. Who put you up this?”

 

“It was a Senior Agent Zane, Sir."

 

The three of us shared a grim look. Zane’s obfuscation and hostility back on Nr Shaddaa suddenly made a lot more sense.

 

Elara interjected before we could continue. “We should get these men back to Anchorhead for treatment, and to avoid being surprised by any Imperial attempts to investigate. I suggest calling in for support now – we can discuss the details of this SIS mission later, in a safer context. I am sure General Garza would be most interested.

 

She made a lot of sense to me. “Jorgan, organize an evac for Torve and his men – Elara and I will cover for you. Keep 4X back at Anchorhead though, in case someone’s watching our ship. I don’t want them to catch onto the fact that we’re up to something.” I fell silent for a minute to consider the bigger picture. “Tell 4X to contact Garza, though. We need to talk to her as soon as we get back.”

 

I let Torve ride back to Anchorhead with Jorgan, hoping it might rekindle their sense of camaraderie. Judging from Jorgan’s expression once we got back to the hanger, the plan failed about as spectacularly as all of my others.

 

“He’s not the Torve I remember from the Deadeyes, Sir. Zane must have gotten to him…or something.” The Cathar bared his teeth in frustration and hissed. “Damn SIS always finds a way to screw things up.”

 

I shrugged. “We’ll see what Garza says about it. If the SIS is up to something, we don’t exactly have the authority to shut it down just because it offends us.” He gave me a look. “Even if it’s as stupid as this idea sounds.”

 

Garza was ready for us when we dialed her up on the holo.

 

“Lieutenant, I’m glad to see you found time to report in. I received Sergeant Dorne’s after-action report regarding Fuse and was hoping to review it with you.”

 

Unconsciously, I glanced across at Elara, who had filled out the report despite me not asking her to. “Uh, yes sir. I feel the report comprehensively describes what happened on the mission, and would be more than glad to supplement it with any further detail you are looking for.”

 

She gave me a wry grin. “In other words, you think the report should be good enough for me?” She held a hand out as I began to speak. “Don’t answer that, Lieutenant, it was a rhetorical question. I don’t think I’d want to hear your answer, anyway.” There was a large, completely uncalled-for, laugh from behind me. “In your estimation, then, there was nothing you could have done to save Fuse?”

 

“No, Sir. Gorik set things up perfectly – either we had to stop him and recover the bomb designs and materials, or we could save Fuse. Not both.” I took a breath, but found I did not need as much steadying as I thought I had. “I wish we could have brought him with us, back to the Republic I mean. He might have made a big mistake to go with Tavus, but his heart was is in the right place.”

 

Garza was watching me through slits for eyes. “Having your heart in the right place rarely is enough to see the tough missions out, Lieutenant. While I take no pleasure from his death, Fuse was the one responsible for putting himself in that situation, and no one else. I respect that you sympathize with a man you view as having been trying to redeem himself, but the Republic will not be saved by sentiment alone.”

 

I shrugged slightly – not much I could say to that, really.

 

“An agent from the SIS informed me that you assisted with an operation in coordination with a privateer. From the reports I was given, it appears you destroyed an alien artifact that might have had considerable value to the Republic.”

 

“Technically, I didn’t destroy it. Sir. And it was also a threat to the Republic – some kind of advanced VI that threatened the entire galaxy with the return of its original masters. Given the situation on the ground, I felt it was prudent to eliminate the potential danger then and there, rather than allow it to possibly grow in magnitude.”

 

The general looked at me for a long moment as a stray gray hair fluttered in front of her eye. “Very well, Lieutenant. I trust your judgment.” There was a collective releasing of held breaths in the Thunderclap. “Is there anything else you need to bring to my attention?”

 

“Yes, Sir. We were given a significant lead on Sergeant Jorgan’s former unit and tracked them down to an Imperial facility on Tatooine. After rescuing them, we were told that they had been captured as part of an SIS plan to track Republic prisoners to help locate Imperial prisons.”

 

I waited for an explosion of noise, but Garza did not comply. “I see.”

 

“Should we stay hands off on this for now, Sir?” I had never seen Garza so hesitant to speak her mind – it was unnerving. “I’d like to find the rest of his people, but not at the expense of wrecking our relationship with the SIS.”

 

“Agreed.” She pursed her lips as she considered the situation. “Avoid any direct involvement for now, and I will see what kind of information I can obtain on my end. Maintain a low profile, Lieutenant.”

 

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

 

“I have been receiving reports from Alderaan that suggest another of your former squad mates is presently there and operating on Tavus’ behalf. Gearbox has apparently been assigned there to assist the Empire with its proxy war on the planet. When I acquire all the information on the situation that I need, I will inform you further. Dismissed.” She faded from view.

 

“I don’t like this, sir.” Jorgan’s voice was a dull growl. “Leaving my people – and others – hanging out to dry to protect a political relationship.”

 

“An important relationship, though. I agree that this isn’t ideal, but we’ll have to see what we can do to make it work. In the meantime, don’t speak of anything we do on this to anyone else.” Elara and Jorgan agreed, the latter doing so as he was heading for the door. “Sergeant Dorne and I have to speak with her…liaison…at the Personnel office, we’ll join you in the mess hall in a few.”

 

“Personnel office, sir?” Jorgan. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Elara isn’t an official Republic citizen at the moment, so she’s treated…differently than I would like. That’s about all I will say, feel free to talk to her if you want more details though. Not my place to do it for her.”

 

“That’s a load of ********, sir. If she’s good enough to be in Havoc, if she can risk her life for the Republic…it’s crap that they treat her like a spy.” I hadn’t heard Jorgan this fired up in some time. “If there’s anything I can do…?”

 

Elara smiled at him. “I thank you for your passionate defense, Sergeant Jorgan, but I am more than willing to accept whatever conditions are necessary in order to serve the Republic. Minor inconveniences are a small price to pay for a clean conscience.”

 

Jorgan gave her a lingering look that I couldn’t read, then nodded and left the room. I slipped in front of Elara and punched in Captain Kalor’s contact code, giving her a reassuring smile as I stepped back to stand next to her. My least favorite Mirialan in the galaxy shimmered into view a moment later.

 

“Captain Kalor. This is Sergeant Elara Dorne, personnel number 22-795, reporting in.”

 

He chuckled slightly. “Always the whole mess, eh Elara?” I bristled at his comment, though there was no hostility to it. “Yes, I was hoping we could speak about the situation with your brother. You and Lieutenant Martell did a great job in convincing him and his squad to defect to the Empire but…some of my colleagues believe there may be more information of value that you haven’t shared yet.” He looked at her expectantly, while Elara turned a faint shade of green.

 

“Sir, I have communicated all the relevant information I had to you. I have nothing else of value to add.” I noticed the barest hint of hesitance to her speech, and the slight echo of uncertainty in her words. It was stupid as hell, but the man was able to rattle her because of the hold he had over her future and her career.

 

“Of course.” His voice suggested the very opposite of understanding or agreement. “Still, now would be a good time to come in to provide any intel you have on the Empire, your brother, or any other topics you feel you have something to share about. It would reflect well on your record, and help convince some of my colleagues that you are indeed sharing everything you can.”

 

I suddenly realized I hated the man. And that I wanted him to know that.

 

“Elara has shared everything of value that she knew, and is now an extremely valuable member of Havoc Squad. I don’t have the time or luxury of having her constantly distracted by these kinds of questions when we have missions to complete and a Republic to save. Surely there are other people you could focus your attention on other than a decorated soldier with an impeccable record.”

 

“An ‘impeccable’ record that includes Imperial service,” Kalor noted icily. “We’ll talk another time, Elara, after you’ve had time to consider my words and reconsider yours. Kalor out.”

 

We stood there in silence after the call ended. I wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, let her know that I would be with her against whatever Kalor threw at her. But I couldn’t – I was her commanding officer, and nothing more.

 

“Elara, I –“

 

“It is not a problem, Sir. Clearly, there are still concerns about my status in the Republic. It is something I have come to accept, and so I will continue to accept it. I wish I could convince them otherwise, but I would prefer not to become any greater of a burden on your command.” She looked at me without really looking at me. “Perhaps it would be best if we returned to duty. We can speak later, Sir.”

 

She fled before I could say anything, not that I could have said anything to make her feel better.

 

I retreated to my cabin and began reviewing my hard copies of the regulations and manuals I’d been provided with way back at the academy. I knew what kind of soldier Elara was – I saw her in action, I’d seen her record. More importantly, I knew what kind of person she was, and she was the kind of person who deserved every bit of help and happiness that she could get. Even from a pitiful legal mind like mine. I was forced to shoo both her and Jorgan away when they came to my door to remind me to eat.

 

I was so engrossed in the policies and procedures of the Personnel office that I almost missed the tapping at my door. Fearing that it might be Elara, I hastily covered up the materials on my desk and lounged back in my chair and looked really casual. “Come in.”

 

It wasn’t Elara, or Jorgan even. M1-4X scuttled its way into my cabin, invading my space and threatening my peace of mind. “Sir! I received a priority message while the squad was away and I felt it was appropriate to inform you and allow you to view it!”

 

Damned droids.

 

“Sure, 4X, who’s it from?”

 

“An Aleksei Dorne, Sir. Sergeant Dorne’s brother, I believe.”

 

The hell is he doing sending her messages through the karking droid?

 

“Why are you here, then? Elara’s in the mess hall.” I waited for it to leave, but it didn’t.

 

“The message is not for her, Sir. It is for you.”

 

“Play it.” I was completely confused, and there was only one thing I could do to change that.

 

Aleksei Dorne, perfect blond hair and all, appeared in holographic form from a projector in 4X’ chassis. His speech was as clipped and perfect as Elara’s. “Lieutenant Martell, I hope this reaches you in good health and spirits.”

 

Okay.

 

“When we were engaged in combat on Nar Shaddaa, you told me something that resonated with me – that I needed to earn the devotion and trust that my sister had for me. At the time, I was rather put out by your statement, but it was not the time for questioning you. After the engagement, I realized you were correct – Elara had gone to great lengths on my behalf, and I owe it to her to put forth my best efforts to justify it.”

 

I agreed with him, though I did not see why I needed to be told any of that.

 

His eyes shone a little brighter as he looked up. “You must do the same. My sister…has grown close to you. She trusts you both on and off the battlefield, and has come to rely on you in more ways than you realize. If you betray that trust…I will end you. With that in mind, I trust you know how best to proceed. Good day, Lieutenant. Do give my regards to Elara.”

 

He disappeared from view, but I continued staring where the image had been for some time afterward.

 

“4X?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“Delete the message. Pretend you never saw it.” I bit down on my lip. “And have C2-N2 find me something extremely alcoholic in the mess hall.”

 

“Yes, Sir!”

Edited by Lesaberisa
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  • 3 weeks later...

Apologies for the delay - was out of town for the holidays and had my parents/boyfriend/family hovering around whenever I tried to sneak away ;)

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I noticed the droid was hanging around after I finished the bottle of brandy it’d managed to find somewhere in the mess. I eyed it suspiciously as it hovered in the door, unwilling to leave unless I commanded it to. Normally, I’d have been all too glad to get rid of it, but I wondered if there was something more to its persistence.

 

“C2, can I help you with something? You seem awfully…” I struggled through alcohol-induced cobwebs to find the right word. “…awfully fond of my doorway. It’s almost like you want me to deactivate you, or something.”

 

The droid, sporting what seemed to be a new coat of paint, shuffled its feet as its vocabulator sprang into life. I found it strange that it took so long, considering how fond the machine was of hearing its own voice. “I am always glad to serve you in every way possible, master. It is only natural that I gravitate to where ever you might be. May I do something to assist you in some way?”

 

Other than turn yourself into scrap? I’d have loved to give that command, but I knew it wouldn’t be worth the consequences, especially since Elara seemed unreasonably fond of the thing. I grimaced, more to myself than anyone or anything else. Thinking about Elara and fond feelings reminded me of the message her brother had sent, and I suddenly felt like I needed another drink.

 

“That’s great, C2, but I don’t need to have a protocol droid following me around anywhere I go.” I reflected on things for a moment. “For that matter, I don’t remember you ever doing this before. I distinctly remember you being smart enough to stay out of my way when your presence wasn’t required. Yet here you are, lodged in the door to my cabin. Presence. Not. Required.”

 

One of the droid’s eyes blinked off before turning back on. I wondered if the accursed thing was blinking at me for some reason. “I am simply here to ensure your happiness, master. Nothing gives me greater joy than to see you functioning at peak efficiency.”

 

The word ‘efficiency’ stuck out to me for some reason. “Elara, err Sergeant Dorne sent you, didn’t she?” I raised an eyebrow at the thing, even though the gesture meant nothing to a machine.

 

“Only to monitor your health, master. It is not a matter for concern, I assure you.”

 

“Uh huh.” I jerked a finger toward the hall outside my cabin. “How about you get lost before I give you a matter to be concerned about?” The droid did not move. “As in, before I scrap you and sell the parts to a Hutt.”

 

This time, the protocol droid did take the hint, and began shuffling off, muttering something about finding an alternate method for human-droid interactions. I paid it no more attention, though, since worrying about the hurt ‘feelings’ of a protocol droid ranked somewhere around joining the Darth Marr Fan Club on my list of things to accomplish in my life. If Garza wanted to saddle the unit with that metallic monstrosity, that was her choice, but damned if I was going to waste any unnecessary energy or attention on it. Sure, it came in handy when Elara was flooded with paperwork to fill out, but I’d have rather gotten another soldier on my team than this blasted thing.

 

“Sir?”

 

I grit my teeth in frustration as the irritating droid was replaced by the frightening one. “Yes, Forex?” I closed my eyes and counted to ten, but when I reopened them, the droid was still there.

 

“Sir, I was wondering if you had a moment to speak with me in private.”

 

The droid wants to have a private conversation with me?

 

I waved it into my cabin, glancing longingly at my bottle of brandy that lay just out of reach. “What can I do for you, Forex?” Maybe it wants to be deactivated, maybe it wants to be transferred to another unit. My mind reeled from the possibilities.

 

“Sir, if I may?”

 

“Go ahead.” I frowned slightly – the droid was almost playing coy, or something, and sounded a lot like Elara had when she’d first joined the squad.

 

“I was curious if you were disappointed in my performance while on missions.” It sounded….sad?

 

“No, Forex, I have no problems with your mission performances – you’ve performed admirably given your unorthodox insertion into this squad.” I paused and rotated my chair to face it. “But, you already knew that. You’re even worse than Elara when it comes to writing up evaluations and reports and what not. Frankly, I’m not sure why you think I’d have a problem with the way you’ve done on missions in the first place.”

 

The droid was silent for nearly a minute, the longest either of the machines onboard had ever gone without saying something to get on my nerves.

 

“Sir – I have noticed that you are more distant with me than with Sergeants Jorgan and Dorne. I was wondering if I had failed in my duties as a soldier of the Republic in some way.”

 

I bit down on my tongue and shifted in my chair as my mind raced for a response. Who knew a karking droid could be so sensitive over nothing? “I didn’t see any problem with socializing with Jorgan or Dorne, Forex. I also didn’t realize that you would be interested in distinctly organic activities like drinking at a cantina.”

 

“Sir – if I may?”

 

I repeated my hand wave from before, only more agitatedly. I didn’t have time to play droid psychologist when I had enough problems of my own.

 

“Perhaps you are troubled by the fact that I am a droid.”

 

It was surprisingly difficult to find the right words to deny a statement you knew to be true.

 

“I’m not sure I understand, Forex. You’ve been an excellent addition to our combat team. As I said before, I have no complaints about you having my back, and I trust you have no concerns about me having yours. Well, your rear chassis. Such as is it.” I nervously gulped down the last few drops of brandy.

 

“Sir – I feel I can be a part of this squad off of the battlefield as well. Perhaps not partaking in every activity, but I would gladly socialize with fellow soldiers of the Republic, defending truth and justice in the galaxy against the menace of the Empire!” With every word, its voice rose with excitement I did not feel.

 

“Fine. Next time we’re off-duty, I’ll try to find a way to include you. Hopefully that satisfies your desire to be involved in our…socialization.” I returned my seat to its initial position facing my holo-projector. “Is there anything else, Forex? If not, feel free to see yourself out.”

 

“Shall I inform Sergeant Jorgan of our new arrangement, Sir?”

 

I turned back to face the droid, raising a questioning eyebrow as I did so. “Why Jorgan, specifically?”

 

“Sergeant Jorgan has been unusually tense around me since I joined the squad, Sir.”

 

Jorgan, unusually tense? Unbidden, a small smile creased my lips. I killed it before I responded. “Not too surprising. If I remember correctly, you were shooting at us the first time we met you. And the second.”

 

The droid was silent again. “You and Sergeant Jorgan do not trust me because I’m a droid.”

 

“I trust you because your programming was fixed and secured. As long as that remains the case, I don’t think we’ll have any problems.” I eyed it closely for a moment. “Is that sufficient?”

 

“I am a loyal servant of the Republic, Sir! I was unfairly reprogrammed by the vile traitors working for Commander Tavus at the time. I would never willingly serve the enemy, not when they threaten everything that we fight for and every principle that we seek to defend.”

 

“That’s good to hear Forex." I grit my teeth in frustration. "Since we’ve clarified the situation, then, is there anything else you feel the need to speak to me about?” My tone was unintentionally icy, but I wanted the thing gone.

 

“Sir, I feel that you may harbor feelings about my presence as well. Perhaps similar to those of Sergeant Jorgan.”

 

I put my hands out in front of me in an unconsciously defensive gesture. “Look, Forex…I wasn’t entirely thrilled with you being assigned to my squad, but a lot of that was also because of security. Jorgan, Dorne…they rely on me to make the decisions that complete missions and get everyone home safely. Having a war droid that had to be reprogrammed after attacking us added to the squad isn’t conducive to maintaining that sense of comfort and trust.”

 

“I see.” The droid’s speech was quieter – whoever had programmed it had done a decent job at having it affect reactions. “I shall endeavor to demonstrate my firm commitment to the Republic and its brave soldiers. A commitment that has never wavered.”

 

“It wavered when you were reprogrammed by Andrik and his thugs. Not your fault, but that’s the risk with using droids in combat roles. Or any role, really. It wasn’t something you chose to do, but it was a choice you could do nothing to reject. I think the reasons for people being somewhat nervous around you are pretty sound, given that.”

 

The droid pondered that for a moment. “Sir, I understand your concerns, but I was also able to work around the traitors’ programming and alert you to the necessary tactics for disabling me as a threat.”

 

“And what if Andrik and his men had been a little better at reprogramming you? Or if they’d just wiped Jorgan and Dorne and me from your databanks and made you think we were Imperials or something? Hell, Elara already has the accent and the over-the-top suspicion from Personnel Division.”

 

“If Sergeant Dorne can serve in Havoc Squad after demonstrating her undeniable loyalty and spirit of service, I believe I can as well.” Forex almost sounded frustrated.

 

I sighed softly. “You’re here, aren’t you?” I realized I was coming across more brusquely than I intended, so I took a breath to sort things out. “I’m not going to pretend I’m thrilled by the fact we have a war droid on the squad, but as long as you maintain the appropriate level of security and oversight on your programming, I’m willing to put faith in your ability to serve the Republic.”

 

“That is great to hear, Sir!” Forex’ voice was loud again, echoing across the walls of my cramped cabin. “I look forward to crushing the Empire beneath us, until they surrender to the superiority of the Republic.”

 

“Don’t. Don’t think of the Imperials like that.” I wagged a single, disapproving, finger at Forex. “Do you really think we should celebrate wiping Imperials out when they’re probably just as likely to be good people like Elara or her brother as they are to be a goose-stepping Sith lackey? The moment we look at the people in the Empire as nothing more than targets to be destroyed is the moment we become just like the karking Sith and other monsters over there we’re fighting.”

 

Forex ‘nodded’ – at least I thought it did. “I understand the limitations of my programming, Sir. I will endeavor to follow your lead in such matters.”

 

“Good. Because the people that programmed you won’t.” I sighed, knowing I was about to say more than I needed to, but also realizing I was going to say it anyway. “That’s the problem with their reliance on war droids and other automated units – it makes it easy for the people doing the programming to lose touch with what war really means and forget the principles we fight those wars for.”

 

“I don’t understand, Sir.”

 

It felt more than a little strange to be explaining my personal ethos to a war droid that couldn’t possibly comprehend it, but I’d never been one to shut up once I got rolling, even in the best of times.

 

“When you send out actual troops to do the fighting, it’s harder to write things off as ‘collateral damage’ or ‘acceptable losses’ – those are real people out there with families and friends that will remember them and demand justice if you do something wrong. When you use droids…it’s easier to take risks that put other lives in danger, it’s easier to end up with enemy civilians being harmed because the droids don’t understand that just because swearing an oath to another government doesn’t forfeit someone’s right to live."

 

I paused to take a breath, but Forex had nothing to say.

 

"Wars are awful things; yes, we fight the Empire to defend our way of life, but we also fight because we have to. The Empire isn’t content with living peacefully – it only knows how to dominate and subjugate, to bend things and people to its will. That doesn’t mean we can’t work with specific people in the Empire, though. Droids don’t understand that. Officers that rely on droids don’t want to understand it.”

 

“I see…Sir.” The droid’s intonation suggested it did not.

 

“Let me put it this way, Forex…wars have consequences beyond those we intend them to. The more you rely on technology to fight those wars, the more removed you get from those consequences.” I closed my eyes as I imagined what the Imperials and their friends must have done to Ithaca, and so many other worlds. “War is an ugly thing to begin with. War without recognizing consequences is truly horrifying. It’s something the Sith would approve of, but it’s not something I’ll ever accept.”

 

“If I may, Sir – I am not programmed to ignore the rules of war.”

 

“That wasn’t aimed at you, specifically, Forex. It was a general statement – I don’t like what war droids represent to too many officers.”

 

“War droids also take the place of ordinary soldiers, Sir. I would gladly sacrifice myself to allow even a single Republic soldier to live another day.”

 

I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sure you would. War droids aren’t all bad; you sure ain’t. Like I said, I value you as a member of the squad, just in a different way than I do Dorne or Jorgan.”

 

Forex didn’t respond at first; instead, it turned and began heading back toward the corridor. As it left, slowly shuffling through the narrow passage, it called out one last time. “I will speak with Sergeant Dorne in order to better incorporate your ethical stance into my programmed subroutines.”

 

“Just don’t mention you talked to me about them!” I smirked as the image of Forex pestering Elara about wartime morality popped into my head. As long as she doesn’t find out it’s your fault, you’re in the clear. I smiled smugly as I reclined in my seat, pre-emptively admiring my handiwork. Then, I nearly fell out of my chair when the comm buzzed loudly from my desk.

 

“Sir, it’s General Garza. She’s ready to brief us on our next assignment.” I noted how much more grating Jorgan’s voice was over the comm than in person, which was saying something. “We’ve assembled by the holocomm, whenever you’re ready.”

 

“I’ll be right there, Jorgan. Thanks.” I groaned and pushed myself up from the chair – it wasn’t as if the thing was all that comfortable, but it was a damn sight better than standing awkwardly at attention while the old battle axe droned on and on about mercilessly eradicating everyone and everything related to Harron Tavus. She was pissed off about the defection, I understood that – hell, we all were. There was more to her anger than that, though, she’d made things personal. That was dangerous – it meant her decisions might be clouded by emotion, and that she was likely to ask me to take my squad into dangerous or ethically questionable circumstances to accomplish what she wanted.

 

Nothing you can do about it now, though, and delaying things by moping around your cabin won’t help.

 

Jorgan hadn’t been kidding – he, Elara and Forex were all standing at attention in perfect formation when I got into the main room, and holo-Garza was standing right in front of them, hands at her hips and the unmistakable air of frustration about her as she tracked my progress.

 

“Lieutenant Martell, so nice of you to join us.” The sarcasm in her voice reminded me of Veresia for a moment. I felt a painful pang in my heart at that. “If you’re ready to begin?”

 

I snapped off a salute as I slid into position next to Elara, who was regarding me with a curious look out of the corner of her eye – half eye-roll, half-amusement. “My apologies for the delay, Sir. I am ready to begin the briefing.”

 

Garza half-smiled at my sudden attention to protocol, then was back to business as a holographic image of a world – Alderaan, if I was looking at it right – appeared next to her. “Intelligence assets have confirmed that Bex Kolos, a.k.a. ‘Gearbox’, has been assigned to Alderaan by Tavus and his Imperial handlers. As such, I am assigning you and your squad to identify and then eliminate his operations on the planet.”

 

“And Gearbox himself?” Jorgan cleared his throat as I asked.

 

“If you can bring him in alive, that is preferable, but your primary objective is to disrupt his operations on Alderaan and Tavus’ operations in general. If that requires lethal force, then so be it.” She paused before continuing. “How knowledgeable are you about the political situation on Alderaan, Lieutenant?”

 

I tried to ignore the heat and slight flush from my cheeks. “I know enough to get myself into trouble, Sir – the ruling family seceded from the Republic and there’s a nasty civil war going on right now. Couldn’t tell you who all is on which side, though, Sir.”

 

This time Garza’s smile was less hidden and more wry. “That describes Alderaan’s political situation about as well as anyone can, Lieutenant. The Panteers – the ruling family – did take their world out of the Republic, but House Organa and its allies fight on in the Republic’s name, seeking to rejoin our galactic community. The Empire – secretly, and through proxies – has been supporting House Thul, Organa’s greatest rival.”

 

Jorgan leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Bunch of squabbling nobles, sounds right up our alley, Sir.” I had to bite down on my tongue to avoid laughing, especially after Elara shushed him.

 

“Is something the matter, Lieutenant?” Garza had her angry face on again.

 

“No, Sir. Just clearing my throat. Had a hairball in it.” This time, it was Elara’s turn to stifle laughter, while Jorgan shot daggers at me with his eyes.

 

“I see.” Judging from her expression, she didn’t, but I wasn’t going to question her on this, of all things. “In any case, the situation is extremely delicate. We obviously want to support our allies in House Organa, but we do not want to over-involve ourselves such that we alienate the other houses. The Republic wants Alderaan to become a member again, but is taking the long view on the issue.”

 

“Understood, Sir.” That worked fine by me – I didn’t have any interest in playing the diplomat if it meant dealing with a bunch of stuck-up nobles that didn’t know the business end of a blaster from a nerf’s ***. “Who’s our contact with the Organas?”

 

“Recently, there was an attempt on the life of Duke Organa himself. His guards managed to secure the would-be assassin, who is now in Organa custody. The officer in charge of his imprisonment – a Captain Balic Cormac – contacted a local Republic representative, suggesting that the prisoner has information on Thul activities that might prove useful.”

 

I frowned at that. “Won’t the Organas be something less than pleased with us working with a man that tried to kill their duke?”

 

“I don’t doubt they will be upset. That’s why I’m expecting you and your squad to be on your best behavior once you arrive on Alderaan.” She glared at me. “Your best behavior.”

 

“Yes, Sir.” I kept my tone as even and innocent as I could.

 

“Good. Report in once you have a substantive update.” Her image faded away, leaving the four of us in silence. Near silence, rather – the protocol droid was busy shuffling around uselessly again.

 

Elara left first, quietly murmuring something about reviewing some documentation while we traveled to Alderaan. Forex was the next to go, heading for the cockpit to get us underway. That left me with my favorite person in the galaxy.

 

“There a reason Garza was so insistent on you ‘behaving’, Sir? I realize we’re a bit…unconventional…at times, but she seemed unusually insistent on it.”

 

I grinned sheepishly as I nervously ran a hand up and down my neck. “This isn’t the first time my family’s had dealings with the Organas.”

 

Jorgan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

“My great-grandfather arranged a marriage with one for my grandmother – my mother’s mother.”

 

“How’d that turn out?” Jorgan seemed unusually curious.

 

“Remember the time I mentioned having family on Alderaan?." Jorgan shook his head. "Me neither.”

 

He grimaced slightly, then coughed as he cleared his throat. “That bad?”

 

“She ran off to Ithaca instead – that should say enough. I’m not sure how much of that the Organas will remember, of course. Hell, I don’t know if they’ll care even if they do remember. But between that and my…somewhat lacking…diplomatic skills, I guess Garza is concerned it might make an already delicate situation that much worse.”

 

The Cathar chewed on that for a moment. “What’re you going to do then, Sir?”

 

I gave him a ****-eating grin. “If she wants me to be the epitome of the finest the Republic has to offer, then I can do that.” And maybe Elara will see I’m not just a colossal ****up. That thought made me feel a disorienting combination of hope and fear.

 

“Is it really worth bending over backwards for a planet that turned its back on us once they thought it was in their best interest?”

 

“Maybe, maybe not…but the Republic won’t last if we only reach our hand out to those that stand by us through thick and thin. Even if that means dealing with a bunch of prissy nobles that have their heads up their asses.”

 

Jorgan laughed. “True enough.” He turned to leave. “Going to check on our ordinance to make sure everything is in order.”

 

I nodded and meandered over to the med bay, where I found Elara hunched over her desk, reading something on her view screen. Before knocking on the door to let her know I was there, I stopped to admire the view - I'd never quite noticed how good regulation pants could look until I'd met Elara. If only I could find a way to tell her how I feel without ruining everything… Then, shaking my head at my own hormonal reaction, I cleared my throat to get her attention. Unfortunately, my stealthy approach meant that she jumped about a foot into the air from the surprise.

 

“Sir, I apologize for my reaction. I did not hear you there.” She was cute when she was flustered, especially with the slight blush creeping across her cheeks like clouds in the sky on a spring day.

 

“Fault is mine, El-Dorne. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything else when it comes to the resident idiot in Personnel Division.”

 

She flashed, then quickly hid, a warm smile. “No, Sir. I have not heard from Captain Kalor or anyone else in his office. I imagine he must be reviewing what information he has to determine how to proceed. I have to admit, I am slightly concerned.”

 

I threw my arms out in a cocky gesture of self-confidence. “Have some faith, Elara. You’ve got me in your corner, what could possibly go wrong.”

 

Her smile returned, though it was spiced with a hint of sarcasm. “In that case, I am more than slightly concerned.”

 

I put on an air of wounded dignity which neither of us bought. “Your words hurt me. You should know I’m always here for you. When it comes to important matters, that is. Personnel Division matters.” That ever-present drop of sweat was forming at the top of my forehead. “Anyway, I was wondering if there was anything you wanted to see on Alderaan; I was looking at some places I thought you might like on the HoloNet.” I stopped, a cold tingling feeling creeping up my spine. Then, having already approached the precipice, I decided to take the final plunge. “I figured you might like to see them, while you had the chance.” After I finished, I made a cursory glance of the med bay to find a window to throw myself out of.

 

Fortunately, she just smiled shyly as her cheeks reddened. “I will gladly review the sites you were looking at.” I gave her a puzzled look as her trademark Sir did not arrive. “I should really get back to work but…I think that would be nice…Ayrs.”

 

I nodded, then made my escape. For some reason, I felt like jumping and clicking my heels as I floated back to my cabin, high on a feeling I had thought lost to me so long ago.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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  • 3 weeks later...

Hello! Putting this in spoiler tags since it's a bit long.

 

 

Yes. I'm leveling an 'Ayrs' to match his story as best I can. The same is true for my inquisitor, though the game story doesn't come close to how she'd actually act (not the writers' fault, you wouldn't expect the inquisitor to be the enslaved sister of your trooper ;)). I'd say ingame Ayrs is about...70% of what story Ayrs is, Veresia's pretty far off other than being extremely sarcastic and violently anti-Sith/Imperial (as far as you can be, at least).

 

Here's Ayrs: http://25.media.tumblr.com/bb3c06201f7f3c86c52e4e4b7c127242/tumblr_myy46e63q71slgh2wo2_1280.jpg

 

Here's Veresia: http://31.media.tumblr.com/539a156704e9b96a371e9294f9261689/tumblr_mxkhu1q6Jc1slgh2wo5_1280.jpg

 

I'm not totally happy with how she turned out, but I'm also not really thrilled with the idea of restarting her story or paying money to change her appearance :o

 

If you'd like to see more pictures, I also have them tagged on my tumblr site ("oc: Ayrs" and "OC: Veresia" respectively). That site is lesabear.tumblr.com. Cheers!

 

 

As for my other loyal readers, I apologize for the delay. As I mentioned in my inquisitor story, I've been extremely busy at work due to some turnover with my team.

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The trip to Alderaan went pretty smoothly, mostly because we stayed out of each other’s way. By which you mean that you managed to get out of your own way for once.

 

I scowled. I never liked being nagged about something, let alone by myself. Still, I couldn’t really complain about some peace and quiet; once you’ve gotten out into the field, you realize the value of enjoying the calm before the storm. We hadn’t been entirely unproductive, either – Jorgan and I had convinced Elara to put in a requisition for a target dummy that we could use even while on the move, so we wouldn’t get rusty or use a squad made for target practice. It’d take a while for delivery, since it was deemed a luxury item, but it was still something to look forward to.

 

It was unfortunate I couldn’t say the same about the situation on Alderaan, which had deteriorated even further since Garza had briefed us. House Organa, our biggest ally, was being hard-pressed by the Imperial-backed House Thul, which also appeared to be getting financial and material support from several other houses. All the politicking made my head hurt; it was the kind of thing that caused infinitely more suffering than it was worth. Today, it was the people of Alderaan that were feeling the effects, tomorrow it might be anyone.

 

Enough already. Nobody gives a damn about your naïve political beliefs, you idiot.

 

Sighing, I suited up and made my way to the cockpit as Jorgan steered us into our hangar at the spaceport. Some Alderaanian genius had failed to fortify the area between the spaceport and the nearby palace and lands belonging to House Organa, so we were greeted by some small-arms fire from the Thul forces in the area. Karking idiots. Other than the unwelcome welcoming committee, the place seemed okay, though – clean, organized.. If it weren’t for the reverberation of the artillery outside, things might have even seemed normal.

 

General Garza hadn’t given us much to go on other than pointing me to Captain Cormac, so we found our way over to an information kiosk to find where to acquire speeders. The clerk, an irritating man with an even more irritating goatee, directed us outside but only after making a comment about riffraff like Jorgan being allowed to sully such a fine area. I’d been too busy stifling my laughter to respond, so I had left that to Jorgan. Unsurprisingly, an angry Cathar’s fangs could be quite persuasive.

 

The speeder stand outside was suspiciously deserted for my taste, ‘manned’ only by a protocol droid that reminded me of the blasted thing back on the ship. I shuddered; and I wasn’t alone. I noticed an involuntary reaction from Jorgan, too. Elara, of course, remained perfectly in control.

 

Stars, she looks pretty with the sun hitting her hair like that.

 

I shook my head; no time for stray thoughts like that, wherever it had come from. I approached the droid, not wanting to deal with it but knowing I had to. “Hey, droid, we need a couple of speeders to get to the palace.”

 

The machine was silent for a moment before responding. Had It been a person, I’d have assumed it was coming up with a lie. “I am sorry, sir, but the speeder service is currently unavailable due to the ongoing hostilities in the area. It would not be prudent to risk speeders and personnel in such an environment.” The droid creaked and squeaked as it adjusted its position to face in the general direction of the palace. “Perhaps if someone were to drive away the vile Thul invaders that could change.”

 

I gave the droid a side-eye glance as I contemplated its response. Unfortunately, the delay in responding gave it time to process further information.

 

“Lieutenant, sir. I have a priority message incoming from General Kashim. Please hold while I transfer the signal.”

 

I glanced back at Elara and shrugged; she merely glared at me and motioned to pay attention with her eyes. As my shoulders slumped in a mini-pout, I returned to facing the droid, just in time as it turned out. The Duros general flickered into view, emerging from a holographic projector someone had attached to the droid’s chest.

 

“Lieutenant Martell, let me say that it is good to know that the Republic is sending units of your caliber to assist with our operations.”

 

“Uh, well, you see…” I felt a bit hot under my collar. “We’re actually here on a priority mission for General Garza and the Special Forces division, not anything else. If there’s something we can assist you with without compromising our mission and its timetable, I’d be more than glad to throw my squad in where I can.”

 

“Indeed, Sirs! We must demonstrate to the Empire and its misguided allies that we will not stand for this wretched, blatant, attempt at usurping the legitimate and glorious authority of the Republic on Alderaan. We will stand as a gleaming beacon of truth and justice and will serve as an example for House Organa on Alderaan and all of the Republics allies across the galaxy!”

 

This time, it was everyone that was side-eyeing Forex.

 

“ Yes…of course.” Kashim seemed rattled for a moment. “In any case, we could use your assistance in clearing a path from the spaceport to the Palace. Thul forces launched a surprise offensive in the area and have littered the area with baradium explosives. IF you and your squad could clear the path of those explosives, it would allow House Organa to stabilize the situation.”

 

As much as I wanted to tell the general that we were too busy going after Gearbox to do anything, but I couldn’t lie if it meant putting the lives of Republic allies at stake. The prissy Alderaanian nobles meant nothing to me, but that didn’t mean their people did as well.

 

“My squad and I will get right on it, Sir. We’ll report in once we’ve arrived at the palace.”

 

The Duros’ image faded away, leaving me with the unpleasant view of the protocol droid again. I swiveled my hips so I was facing the squad.

 

“Okay, then. We’ve got a job to do before we report in to Genera Kashim or Captain Cormac. We don’t have the time or manpower to clear the path out entirely, so we’ll focus on opening a corridor for other units to follow into and clear out further. Forex, you’ve got point. Jorgan – you follow and disarm explosives as we encounter them. I’ll bring up the rear, keeping you covered as you do so. Elara will make sure our pretty faces remain intact until we get to the Organas.”

 

Forex muttered its understanding and Jorgan nodded - both began finalizing the gearing process so we could head out. That left me alone with Elara, a situation that would have been problematic in the best of times. This certainly was not one of those times. “You look really great.”

 

Elara reacted immediately, looking back at me with a strange look in her eyes as a slight flush spread across her cheeks. Fortunately, that presented me with a golden opportunity to use my rapier-like wit to talk my way out of another perilous situation.

 

“Alderaan looks great, I mean.” I was smooth, completely in command of the situation. “It must be nice for you, since you’ve never been here. Not that I have, either, of course. But it’s nice for me too. It’s great. Really scenic views.” I ran a hand through my hair to show how unconcerned I was with everything going on. “Anyway, we should get going. Things to do, places to go.” I went to join Jorgan and Forex, not bothering to wait for Elara’s reaction – it seemed to mostly involve continued blushing and then putting her helmet on, anyway.

 

Fortunately, the work of disarming the explosives while taking heavy fire from House Thul forces entrenched throughout the hills around us proved to be a lot easier to handle than talking to Elara. Forex’s armor was more than enough to handle the small-arms fire they were able to put out, and a series of grenades from my satchel and Jorgan’s cannon fire quickly took care of the rest.

 

The scenic journey gave me plenty of time to mull things over, though, and I wasn’t quite sure I liked what I came up with. Forex was difficult to work with because it was a droid – it didn’t understand how the galaxy truly operated. It was one thing to be programmed to process things in a certain way; it was quite another to actually grasp why they worked the way they did. Especially when those ‘things’ were people, who generally weren’t logical or robotic. Jorgan could be a handful because he was a huge ******e. I could deal with that. But Elara…

 

Elara confounded me. Not because of anything she did or said, except for when she had me fill out one of her forms that I didn’t quite understand the purpose of. No – Elara confused me simply by being and by how I suddenly felt like a complete karking moron whenever I was around her. I wasn’t stupid – I’d known what trouble I might be in for from the moment I’d first seen her. Of course, back then she’d just been a pretty face with a strangely Imperial accent, now she was so much more.

 

I felt my stomach twist itself into knots and do a roll to the right.

 

When I’d first met Ariel, I’d felt the same way. Only when I’d first met Ariel, I hadn’t lost all of my baby teeth yet. This…this was different. And scary. Maker, is it scary. It was one thing to fall for the girl next door when it was something innocent and naïve. Quite another when…when you thought you’d never feel that way about anyone or anything again. Ever since Rissa and I had fallen apart, I’d always assumed I’d just blunder my way through things; now I realized that might entail more than I expected. Especially when it entails the kind of woman you’d dreamed about.

 

I frowned, trying to push that thought aside. It wasn’t love. Not yet, at least. Not that that mattered much, not when I felt like I was going to explode from the internal pressure building up inside of me. Just wish it was as easy to resolve as it is to think about resolving it. Truth be told, I didn’t have a damned clue about what to do – I’d be a real piece of **** to say or do anything to make her uncomfortable, even worse if it screwed up her career. Better to just play it safe, see what happened. What was the worst that can happen?

 

Quite a bit, probably.

 

We were coming up to the Organas' palace now, so I decided to worry about my romantic problems another time. Last thing I needed was to have to deal with these preening Organa idiots while distracted by the way Elara’s hips swayed even in the heaviest of armor or how her eyes glowed whenever the light hit them just right or sometimes even when there wasn’t any light at all. Or by the way her smallest of smiles made my knees feel as weak and malleable as putty. Or the way she makes you feel like the galaxy’s biggest hero whenever you make her happy.

 

I slapped myself in the face, returning myself to reality.

 

Get a grip. You’re a karking idiot.

 

The Organa forces around the perimeter of the palace waved us through eagerly, almost like we were celebrities or something. Seemed strange to me – they’d been fighting the Thuls for months themselves, so it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen combat. Apparently, whatever action they’d seen wasn’t enough for the locals, though. I made a mental note to see if that earned us any perks.

 

“Let’s try to keep things diplomatic while we’re here – the Organas are our closest allies since the Panteers withdrew Alderaan from the Republic.” I coughed before continuing. “Of course, we’re also ordered to ‘promote friendly relations’ with the Panteers as well.”

 

Jorgan snorted loudly at that one, and I couldn’t blame him for it. Alderaan had always been a proud member of the Republic…until the Panteers had decided to take it out of the Republic, as if status as an independent world would matter to the Empire, or would somehow make the lives of the Alderaanian people better in some nebulous way. People like that never ceased to piss me off – first ones looking to jump off when the going got rough, first ones scrambling to get back on when things looked good. I wasn’t sure what the Republic had planned for them or their planet, but I hoped I wasn’t going to be involved with it.

 

House Organa’s palace was almost stupidly opulent, with all sorts of fancy architecture and fountains; the kinds of things that wowed the people coming from more rural areas, enough so that they wouldn’t realize that all of their tax money was being spent on it. Our erstwhile allies were well armed, though – plenty of what looked like late-war era war droids and multiple squads of moderately armored infantry. Were it not for the reverberation of heavy artillery from further south, it would almost have seemed like some kind of twisted take on an idyllic sunny afternoon.

 

We made our way to the palace in relative silence, though Forex interrupted that pleasant atmosphere with several comments about eradicating Imperials and establishing Republic domination over the galaxy in the name of truth and justice and all sorts of other propagandistic crap. I finally had to draw the line when we reached the entrance to the palace, when it referred to its desire to render all Imperial personnel “dumb, ugly and dead.” I had little patience for Forex’ over the top exuberance in the best of times, and even less when it was parroting lines from a smuggler’s pathetic lackey. We left Forex behind there, informing it that rumors were circulating that Imperial spies were attempting to sneak into the palace disguised as tumbleweeds.

 

That will keep it busy.

 

I took Elara and Jorgan up to the command center to report in to General Kashim first – I figured Captain Cormac would understand the need to appease the brass with their shiny medals, especially if it meant keeping he Duros off my back for the rest of our stay on Alderaan. Getting there was a real pain in the ***, though – the place was as overdesigned as everything outside. I made sure to scuff up the floors, just to set things right.

 

General Kashim was standing with his back to us as we entered the command center, concentrating on something his companion was saying to him. I narrowed my eyes at the other man, realizing I was looking at Duke Charle Organa, the current head of House Organa. And the man your grandmother was supposed to marry. Until she didn’t, of course. I studied him closely – he still had the stupid pencil mustache from the few holos I’d seen of him; apart from a few wrinkles he looked as if he hadn’t aged more than a few years, really. I hoped he didn’t know who I was.

 

I cleared my throat as we stepped into the room, drawing both men’s attention, then directed my squad to face them from across the holo-projector that was busy displaying the tactical situation around the palace and its surrounding areas. It looked like things had stabilized, and I could even see increasing numbers of green-tinged markers along the path the squad had cleared.

 

The Duros spoke first. “Lieutenant Martell, good to see you. Your efforts in clearing the transportation corridor to the spaceport are greatly appreciated.”

 

“My squad’s efforts, Sir.” I couldn’t help but notice Organa’s eyebrow arch up at the sound of my name.

 

“Of course, of course.” The general smoothed over a non-existent crease in his uniform, a gesture that was all too familiar to me. “I am reluctant to ask any more of you…” His voice trailed off for a moment, pointlessly. You are reluctant to ask more of us, but you’re going to do it anyway. Just get it over with. Finally, he did. “The Thul forces have launched a major offensive against a series of fortifications known as the Spears of Organa. If they fall, the palace itself will be placed within range of the Thul artillery. The military consequences of that would be severe; the political ones disastrous. We must demonstrate our ability to support our allies.”

 

The duke followed up before I could get a word in. “I understand that you are here on a classified mission for Special Forces division and so have already made a great sacrifice to assist us at all. I, too, regret having to call on you to perform yet another mission on my behalf.” He paused placed both of his hands behind his back, like a pontificating politician would. “But while this is a trial, it is also an opportunity. We can demonstrate the steadfastness of House Organa, the potential that Alderaan has as a part of the Republic, and the futility of supporting House Thul. All in one grand gesture.” He pumped his fist emphatically. I stifled a yawn.

 

“We’ll do all we can, Duke.” I nodded informally at him, so he knew I wasn’t objecting because I knew there was no point in doing so, not because I was particularly keen on putting my people’s lives on the line because he and his kind were as weak-willed as the Panteers. “Just have your people send us the relevant data, and we’ll work out an operational plan for our strike. If that’s all?” I hoped my irritation wasn’t apparent in my voice.

 

“Of course.” The duke motioned us toward the door. “Actually, Lieutenant, may I have a word with you?” Organa glanced over at Kashim and smiled apologetically. “In private.”

 

The Duros gazed at the duke first, then me, but followed my squad out of the room without a sound. That left me standing across the projector from the epitome of the life my family had left behind. I was somewhat relieved to see the duke appeared as uncomfortable as I was.

 

“Lieutenant, I fear that this is somewhat inappropriate of me, but I could not help but notice your name. As you might be aware, your grandmother and I were once to be wed.”

 

“Yes, arranged by her father, if I’m not mistaken.” I left the ‘sir’ off; he wasn’t my superior and hadn’t done anything to deserve it as an honorific. “She mentioned you several times, even kept a few of your holos around.” For our amusement, though.

 

Unsurprisingly, he completely whiffed on what I’d actually meant. Instead, his face brightened, and the stress lines that had creased his forehead suddenly disappeared. “Really? Truly, I thought we would have made a great match. Even my father was beaming with excitement at our prospects.”

 

I wrinkled my nose but managed to keep my mouth shut. Biting down hard on my tongue seemed to help with that.

 

“Tell me, how is Allyria? Does she still speak of me?”

 

I felt increasing pressure on my chest, but managed a timely response. “She died during the War.”

 

His mouth tightened. “I see. My apologies for bringing up a sore subject. I…uh….I had always hoped for the best for her, even after she made her choice.”

 

“Of course.” My voice was as tight as my throat was feeling.

 

“Is the rest of your family well?” The guy was trying, but only making things worse.

 

“Dead.” My jaw clenched involuntarily, and I had to hide my hands so he wouldn’t see them balled into fists. “All dead. There’s some of the original family back on Kuat, that’s about it. I’m sure they’d be happy to hear from you, though.”

 

To his credit, the duke’s reaction was damn near real, as he sunk back into a chair, his chin in his right hand. “I….I am at a loss for words. I never meant –“

 

I clicked my heels. “You never meant to pick at that wound, I know. If I may, I believe my squad needs me?”

 

He nodded silently and slunk further into his chair. I did feel his eyes boring into my back as I left, like lasers. I ignored that, just like I ignored the questioning stare from Kashim as I left the Duke’s office. I found Elara and Jorgan sitting in a conference room a few doors down, and attracted their attention by knocking on the door. Jorgan merely raised an eyebrow at me, which I dispensed with by giving him a sheepish half-smile. He nodded, and proceeded into the hallway. Elara was not so easily swayed, instead moving to stand within whispering distance of me.

 

Everything suddenly felt really hot.

 

“Is everything all right, Sir? You appear troubled.” So did she, actually, her pretty features scrunched into a look of perplexed worry. I felt my stomach tie itself into a knot as I realized I’d made her worry about me yet again.

 

“Fine, El-Sergeant. Just a personal matter, one that I’ve resolved.” I tried to give her a reassuring smile to prove my point, but couldn’t quite manage it for once.

 

So she gave me one instead, a furtive one that disappeared almost as quickly as it had formed, but it’d been there just the same. It didn’t fix anything but damned if it didn’t make me feel a good sight better about everything in general. I was still puzzling out how to respond when I noticed her cheeks were slightly red; before I could figure out what to say to that, she slipped past me and into the hallway next to Jorgan.

 

The Cather merely stood there silently, glowering at me.

 

Paying him no attention, I led them down to the detention level, where Garza’s information had said Captain Cormac would be. The man’s biography had been somewhat sparse in details, but what little I had read suggested Balic Cormac was a man I’d be able to deal squarely with – regular guy with some choice things to say about the nobility that served the people loyally in the Organas’ name nonetheless.

 

We encountered him in front of a row of prison cells; he was a hulking man that made even me look small. Bald – by choice rather than nature’s – and even more muscular than I was. He smiled uncertainly as he saw us approach, and his salute and handshake were both shaky and nervous.

 

“Easy there, Captain. We’re just soldiers like you, not celebrities.” He grinned a bit at that. “Did you receive the briefing materials from General Garza? She informed me that the pertinent information should have been forwarded to your office.”

 

Cormac rubbed the top of his head as he nodded, I wasn’t sure why. “We did. I haven’t heard anything about anyone named Gearbox, but maybe our friend in the cell over there will be more helpful.” He jerked a thumb toward a man in his forties. From my limited view it looked like he had some pretty serious bruises on his face, too. “We tried to get some answers out of him, but haven’t had much luck.”

 

I narrowed my eyes at the man. “By ‘get some answers’, do you mean you beat him? Sure doesn’t look like he’s been treated according to regs to me.” I heard Elara angrily shuffle her feet behind me.

 

“I…uh…yes, one of the Organas was in here earlier. They’re pretty angry about the attempt on the duke’s life, and they took it out on the guy.”

 

“Great. Did they bother to consider the fact that he’s a lot less likely to be cooperative if they treat him like crap? Why didn’t you put a stop to it?” I regretted asking the question, because I suspected I already knew the answer, and it was easier to question a man like Cormac with the safety and ease of hindsight than it was to be a man like him in a situation like that.

 

“I should have, sir. I apologize.” Cormac suddenly looked almost ready to cry. My guilt squeezed even harder on my chest.

 

“Just remember it next time, Captain. You can’t trust those noble types, right?” To prove I wasn’t angry, I gave him a conspiratorial grin, which he mirrored. Then, I motioned to the prisoner. “Alright if I go and talk to the Thul now?”

 

Cormac nodded, so I moved toward the imprisoned man, leaving the rest of the squad to exchange uncomfortable banter. Then again, I don’t think Jorgan’s banter is ever anything but uncomfortable.

 

Markus Thul looked to be your typical imprisoned , beaten-up, noble prisoner with too high an opinion of himself. So much so that I had to rely on biting my tongue again to avoid a spontaneous burst of girlish giggling. There was no amusement in his eyes, though, only cool disdain.

 

“Are you the new Republic lapdog, here to do Organa’s dirty work?”

 

I shook my head lackadaisically. “No, I’m here to find someone working for your house. I’ve been authorized to work with your captors to ensure you get better treatment, so long as you assist us with our project. If you can’t help us, I can’t help you, of course, but I suspect we can work something out.”

 

He narrowed his eyes. “Why should I help you? The Organas are my enemy, so you are mine.” I shrugged and turned, as if to leave. He broke quicker than anyone had a right to. “Wait. Wait.

 

I turned back and gave him one of my winning smiles. “I’m here because you can make my life easier and I can make yours easier too. Tell me what you know about Bex Kolos, codename Gearbox.”

 

Thul furrowed his brow as he pondered that over. “And, in exchange you’ll do what I ask of you?”

 

“Possibly. I’d need to hear what it is, first.” Truth be told, I was a little nervous about what it might be at this point.

 

“I want my family safe and presented before me. If you can give me that, then I can help provide the information you need. I will not lie – I cannot give you the man himself, but I can give you the information you will need to get him.” It all sounded so reasonable when he put it that way.

 

“What’s the catch? Surely you wouldn’t need my help with this if there wasn’t one.”

 

Thul sighed heavily. “They’re currently well within my house’s territory, locked down alongside the other civilians. You would need to devise a way to infiltrate the area and abscond with them without any of the thousands of troops around knowing.”

 

The “Havoc does the impossible” refrain died on my lips before it could escape. “You’re asking a lot. I’ll have to consider this and consult my CO. Is there anything else you would consider as appropriate compensation in its place if we can’t safely pull them out?”

 

He shook his head. “My family’s safety is paramount. If I assist you with your mission, the consequences would be fatal for them.”

 

I nodded in understanding. “Family is what matters, I get it. Give me some time to see what I can do.”

 

Thul nodded, then returned to lying down on his hard prison bed. I exited the cell area through the doorway I’d entered and rejoined Cormac and my squad.

 

“I spoke with him, and I’ll need to talk to Garza before we proceed.” I turned to Cormac. “Can you ensure that he isn’t touched while I’m away?”

 

Cormac nodded. “I’ll double the guard and command it personally. Going to be difficult if the duke himself shows up, but I’ll manage until you get back.”

 

I slapped him on the back and grinned. “Good. We’re going out on a mission for that dear ol’ duke of yours, then I’ll connect with my CO and see what she has to say about what Thul told me. Hopefully, it shouldn’t take too long to resolve the situation and get this entire mess off your hands.”

 

The captain merely nodded and moved to a comm to call in the additional guards.

 

Elara and Jorgan dropped into step behind me as I left the detention center and wove my way back toward the main entrance. Neither said anything as we walked, though I could tell they both desperately wanted to. It was Jorgan who broke first.

 

“What did Thul want, sir? Is it really bad enough that we have to clear it with Garza?”

 

I gave them both a cheerful grin. “He only wants us to infiltrate the Thul palace and smuggle his family out of the area without anyone noticing.” Jorgan grimaced at that, while Elara merely had a pensive look to her. “In the meantime, we’ve got a mission to take care of first. I’ve downloaded the data Duke Organa gave us, and I want a mission plan put together within the hour.”

 

They both saluted and continued on their way.

 

As I watched Elara departing - surreptitiously, and from behind, of course - I decided I had to do some of my own mission planning as well.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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Long chapter! I love Forex, but then I always love Forex.

 

His bumbling with the great views is adorable, and cringe-inducing, and so very believable.

 

I have to say it's satisfying to see a nobleman brought to a standstill, even if it takes something as extreme as Ayrs' family background.

 

And, finally, it says a lot about him that he doesn't even consider leaning hard on Markus for the information he wants.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Some commentary on part of what Bright said over on tumblr here

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We cleaned up the Thul forces at the ‘Spears of Organa’ with the help of some of Kashim’s forces that he sent as assistance. It wasn’t anything impressive – the Thul troops seemed to mostly be local recruits, easy to drive into a full-out panic. I felt almost guilty by the time we’d cleared the last of the Thul forces from the area. We were here to track down a traitor and bring him to justice, not to kill a bunch of green kids sent by one prissy noble because he was having a spat with another. It wasn’t as if the politicians in the Republic were much better, but at least you could vote them out of office if they did something stupid. People like Charle Organa were free to ruin lives all they wanted to.

 

And wear stupid mustaches. Maker save me, what the hell is he thinking with that thing?

 

I smiled uneasily across the table at the duke as he peered curiously in my direction – his façade of earnestness made me more than a little nauseous, so I was doing my best to keep my cool. It helped that Elara was more than happy to dig her elbow into my stomach on the odd occasion that I seemed about ready to say something stupid. Turned out that was more often than I would have guessed.

 

“Your work at the Spears of Organa has revitalized our war efforts,” the Duke was droning on again. “You have provided living proof of the Republic’s commitment to House Organa specifically and Alderaan as a whole. Our allies are emboldened, knowing that House Thul’s aggression will be met by righteous defiance. No one in House Organa will rest so long as the shadow of Thul treachery and tyranny threatens the light.”

 

Silently, I wondered if the Duke was secretly Forex’s twin brother or something.

 

Kashim nodded along with Organa’s speechifying. “Yes, it was a strong blow against House Thul’s offensive in the area – they have pulled back a considerable distance and intelligence reports suggest they are planning an even more substantial withdrawal over the next few days.” He paused, giving me hope that I might well be done with this proxy war – I needed to talk to Garza, and we had a mission to complete. “However, we also have reports of the Wolf Baron being present at a Thul advance base nearby.”

 

I didn’t like where the conversation was inevitably going, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. If I hadn’t wanted to get involved, I should have kept my mouth in the first place and not volunteered my squad. Now that I’d gotten us roped into helping Kashim and Organa with their battles, it made it hard to claim we no longer had the time to assist.

 

You still do have a mission you need to focus on, though.

 

“Sir, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Havoc is on Alderaan as part of a time-critical operation, and I do need to attend to that, as well. It isn’t that I don’t want to help as best we can, but I can’t fail my objectives because I’m off on an unsanctioned mission. Sorry.” I wasn’t sorry, though, and I didn’t know why I bothered throwing the insincere sentiment in.

 

“Of course.” Kashim’s voice was tinged with disappointment, but it didn’t sound like he was going to pick a fight over it. “Our assets are still determining the Wolf Baron’s precise location, in any case, so we have no need of you or Havoc Squad at the moment. Please, feel free to proceed with your own mission in the meantime; I will contact you when we know more about the Wolf Baron’s location.”

 

I nodded slightly and performed a perfunctory salute – Jorgan did the same, but Elara snapped off a salute that would have made the drill instructors back on Corulag proud. I raised an eyebrow at her as she turned to leave the room, but she seemed to be ignoring me. Jorgan just shrugged, continuing his proud tradition of being of absolutely no assistance to me whatsoever. After I took a moment to ensure Kashim and Organa weren’t exiting as well, I followed my squad mates out the door.

 

“’Wolf Baron’.” I could barely keep from cracking up. “What kind of pretentious twit names himself the ‘Wolf Baron’?" I stopped and shared a laugh with Jorgan. "I guess we can’t expect too much from the great House Thul, though.” I noted that Elara was still ignoring me. Or was really angry. Or both. Kark.

 

“You know how these nobles are – the fancier the name, the more impressive they think they sound.” Jorgan made a jerking motion with his hand, though he kept it safely hidden from view by others. “Anyway, time for our briefing with Garza?”

 

I nodded and led the way into another, private, conference room. The general hadn’t commented on Markus Thul or his request since I had submitted the information, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. My gut told me that she wasn’t going to be fond of the idea of bending over backwards to accommodate someone that had attempted to assassinate a valued ally of the Republic, and that left me feeling a bit uneasy. I wasn’t much for resorting to thuggery to begin with, but it seemed especially unlikely to produce the results we needed when the Organas had already tried and failed in their own attempts at it.

 

Then again, they probably tried to bore him to death with their stupid titles. And were probably feeding him some kind of state-of-the-art diet off the hydroponics farm or something.

 

After Elara and Jorgan had settled into position behind me, I activated the console and dialed the general’s office. Briefly, I worried that Forex might be getting overzealous with his pursuit of the “Thul collaborators” in the palace, but it was too late for that. Haven’t heard any complaints so far, either. Screw it.

 

Garza flickered into view just as that thought faded away. The quality wasn’t as good as it was on the Thunderclap, but I could already make out the stress lines on her forehead and the slight creases at either end of her mouth. I couldn’t be sure if our mission was the cause for it, but it didn’t really matter much either way if she was getting pushback from some other quarter. Just means more negativity thrown our way. I sighed softly, hoping Garza wouldn’t hear.

 

“I’m so glad to see you as eager for this briefing as I am, Lieutenant.” Her tone was sarcastic, but not overly so – we were probably safe. “I have reviewed the information you forwarded to me, and have only one question. Have you consulted with anyone from House Organa about your potential plans with Markus Thul?”

 

I shook my head. “I haven’t, Sir. I did not feel it would be a good idea to alert them to the possibility we would be exchanging favors with him – they’d react badly, and the entire situation would get more complicated than any one of us wants it to be.” I smile slightly. “After all, Sir, easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”

 

Someone – I wasn’t sure who – cleared their throat loudly behind me, but Garza merely smiled in response. “My thoughts exactly, Lieutenant.” She fell silent for a moment, reviewing a data pad that must have contained my report on the conversation with Thul. “After reviewing your summary of the conversation, I feel it is an acceptable risk to work with the man if you feel he can provide sufficient intelligence for it to be worthwhile. Avoid antagonizing the Organas. Do not put Thul above getting the mission complete. Otherwise, I am comfortable with you operating at your discretion.”

 

Even I could be surprised sometimes. “I, uh. Thank you, Sir. I’ll head over to the detention center and see what we can hammer out. If we run into any difficulties, I’ll inform you right away.”

 

“Very good. I look forward to any updates you may have going forward.” She disconnected from the call and disappeared before I could respond.

 

The three of us stood in silence, though we did shift so we were all facing one another. I gave the others a quick glance, trying to ignore that creeping sense of awkwardness that seemed to be my ever-present companion.

 

“We should probably make our way over to the detention center, Sir.” Elara sounded slightly less annoyed than she had been so far today, which I was thankful for. Then, it took on a decidedly amused tone. “You did just say as much to General Garza, after all.”

 

I looked to Jorgan for moral support, but he had suddenly found a very interesting spot on the wall to stare at, so I was out of luck. I gave Elara a smile, which I halted when I realized it might be awkward. Then I realized getting rid of my smile might send the wrong message, so I plastered it back on my face. You’re quick on your feet like that. Sharp reflexes. Keen sense of social awareness.

 

With my throat suddenly devoid of any moisture whatsoever, I motioned for the two of them to follow me as I wound my way back down the interminable number of stairs back down to the detention area. Captain Cormac was still standing where we’d last left him, feet rooted to the spot as if his very existence revolved around him being at the exact same spot to talk to me whenever I deigned to show up. We exchanged solutes before I left Elara and Jorgan to keep him busy.

 

Thul looked about as bad as he had the previous time – the bruises didn’t seem to be healing, and his breath was shallow. He groaned with every moment, and it looked like he was feeling more than a little weak, too – I guessed they weren’t exactly feeding him with the prison’s finest cuisine. He did perk up when he saw me, though, so I hoped we could resolve things quickly. To show I intended the meeting to be a friendly one, I dropped the security field and sat down next to him.

 

“I spoke with my superiors, and they’ve granted me the power to make a deal with you, so long as I deem it to be a fair one for the Republic.” I gave him a long, impassive, look to emphasize that I wasn’t going to be swayed by sob stories about his family. This was business, not personal, which was also why we could make a deal at all. “You said you wanted your wife and daughter back. That’s fine by me, so it’s fine by my CO, too. But it isn’t going to happen unless you play ball with us.”

 

His gaze had never dropped from meeting my own until that moment, when his eyes suddenly shifted to the floor before him. “I suppose that is a fair enough arrangement. However, I must have some assurances about my family’s safety – I hope you realize that I cannot simply rely on Organa’s minions to watch over them.

 

I sighed. Spoiled children, all of them. This guy tries to murder someone and gets a sweet deal because of what he knows. The other nobles sit around in these massive palaces while good people are out there fighting and dying for them. Or wasting away, like Cormac.

 

“Fine. What kind of assurances? I’m not in a position to place them under my protection and I won’t be turning to the Republic to supply bodyguards or anything, either.”

 

Thul shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that.” He must have realized how annoyed his request had made me, because he extended a hand in a calming gesture. “I trust you, Lieutenant, so I would have you bring them in personally. As far as their safety within the palace – I am willing to rely on one of the more humane guards, like Captain Cormac.”

 

Too good to be true. “And that’s it? You’ll give us the information we need to track down Kolos?”

 

“I can give you some information now – information on the structure of his organization here on Alderaan, tactical data, that sort of thing. I will only provide the specific details of work – the ones I know, of course – when my family is safely here at with the Organas.” He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms in front of him, as if to signify the end of the debate.

 

Thing was, he had pretty much ended it. Without his information, we would be flying blind going after Gearbox. Maybe we’d never find him at all.

 

“Fair enough. You provide the details to Captain Cormac – he’s my liaison, so that’s good enough as far as people to talk to goes.” I chewed on a particular problematic pocket of air for a moment. “You mentioned your family is at House Thul itself, though. How do you plan on getting them out of there? And will they come with my squad even if we can get there?”

 

Thul smiled slightly. “Captain Cormac will be able to provide you with a pair of disguises that will allow them to pass themselves off as servants, as long as nobody looks too closely.” His smile grew slightly. "It might be best to have them avoid talking, too, since they might not be up to keeping up pretenses. Particularly Valyn.”

 

“Valyn?” This was getting more complicated than I had anticipated.

 

“My daughter. Her mother’s name is Altana. When you arrive at their residence, use the code word ‘Tyrovan’ when you speak with the latter – that will let her know that your mission has my blessing.” I didn’t have anything to add, so I got up and headed for Cormac and my squad. As I reactivated the field, I heard Markus Thul calling out his thanks.

 

Cormac was more than willing to provide us with a couple of servants’ uniforms to disguise the Thul women in, but disguising our armor was a bit more of a headache. He first offered us some standard House Thul armor, but I couldn’t stand how stupid the helmets looked. Neither Elara nor Jorgan were particularly convinced by that argument, but it also lacked the reinforced armor our current suits had. Jorgan wanted to simply paint over our current sets, but Cormac had said that wouldn’t work, either, because it was too advanced and the Thul troops would realize we couldn’t possibly be with them.

 

It was Elara that split the difference and solved our problem – rather than give our armor Thul colors, we would use Imperial colors. The Thul forces would be unlikely to challenge their Imperial allies – particularly impressive-looking Imperial allies, and we’d be able to keep our standard armor. I did momentarily wonder if wearing the Imperial black and red might bother Elara, even if she’d been the one to suggest it, but I couldn’t think of any better ideas and I wanted to get the mission over with as soon as possible. It meant we had to leave Forex behind, but the benefits of not having to explain its presence far outweighed its potential usefulness.

 

Better to just get this over with, anyway. The faster we’re away from the Organas and Thuls and their petty little wars, the better. If the Alderaanian nobles want to squabble over meaningless grudges and feuds while the galaxy burns, screw ‘em.

 

The Organas managed to be useful for once and scrounged together a support squad made up of the biggest idiots this side of the Galactic Senate and a transport that looked about ready to fall apart at any moment. It wasn’t exactly the most impressive show of support for our mission or the Republic, but I supposed it would have to do. The pilot – a gangly man who looked like the kind of guy that drank starship fuel with breakfast – didn’t seem keen on the mission, though, and insisted on dropping us off in a wooded area outside of Thul-controlled territory, forcing us to rely on our speeders to get us closer in. He’d have to be braver on the way out, or else we’d be stuck at our extraction point deep in Thul territory. I grimaced slightly, considering that possibility – this late in the day, and we’d also be dealing with the encroaching darkness.

 

We drove the speeders up the winding path toward House Thul. It was a shame the planet was being torn apart by a civil war between useless nobles – it was actually pretty nice to look at when you weren’t dodging blaster bolts and artillery fire. Or those damned Killiks, judging from the stories they tell back at camp. I almost felt bad when our little sojourn was over and we pulled up to the outermost line of Thul outposts. A tall woman with flaxen hair and piercing blue eyes stepped out into the road to halt our progress, with her half-dozen subordinates forming a line behind her, rifles leveled.

 

“Halt.” She was all business, so I decided not to bother with my usual charm offensive. “Identify yourselves. Immediately.

 

I opened my mouth to speak, and –

 

“Are you quite insane? Can you not see who you are speaking to?” Elara’s voice was kind of scary when she talked like an Imperial would. Stressing words differently and making it clear that the person she was talking to was worth less than the mud underneath our boots. “We have no time to deal with lackeys and idiots, fool. Move aside so we may attend to our meeting at the palace.”

 

I desperately wanted to look over in Elara’s direction but managed to contain myself – not that it would have done a lot of good with our helmets on, anyway.

 

“I-uh-I hadn’t realized…” Whatever strength the Thul soldier had had seemed long gone now – she was stammering even worse than I did when I talked to Elara.

 

“If you were in the Empire, we would have had you shot for your incompetence. Your family would have been lined up and executed as well, to emphasize the depths of your stupidity. Do you not realize how fortunate you are not to be subjected to such treatment?”

 

“I-I’m sorry. It-it-it won’t happen again.” The poor woman was a sickly shade of green now.

 

“Of course not, idiot. You should consider yourself lucky that I have too much essential work to complete on behalf of the Empire to report this to your superiors, and that I am feeling generous as well. Move aside and I shall attempt to forget this incident ever happened. Otherwise, there will be unpleasant consequences. Most unpleasant.”

 

The woman and her squad hastily returned to their previous positions, scattering so fast it was a miracle that they didn’t run into each other. With that obstacle out of our way, we resumed our tour of Thul-infested Alderaan – they had a palace nearly as ostentatious as the Organas, and just as overrun by military buildup; endless soldiers in stupid hats, mechanized infantry, and military vehicles all over the place. If it weren’t for the hats and their politics, it would have been hard to tell the Thuls apart from their Organa counterparts.

 

Fortunately, Markus Thul had provided us with specific directions to where his wife and daughter were staying, so we were able to head straight there instead of taking the scenic route through the entire Thul army. The tower they were located in was about as blatant a phallic symbol as anything I’d seen on Alderaan, and it left me wondering if one or more of the Thuls was compensating for something. Perhaps all of them were.

 

Jorgan swung himself off of his speeder first, slinking his way toward the tower’s entrance. I made to follow him, until I realized that Elara was still sitting on her vehicle, and looked to be breathing heavier than usual. I halted immediately and walked over next to her instead.

 

“Everything alright, Elara?” I didn’t bother correcting my use of her name this time. Wasn’t the time or place for that kind of crap, not when I needed to know she was okay.

 

“I’ll be fine, Sir. It was simply…unpleasant…to even pretend to be like one of the officers that drove me to defect. No one should be subjected to that kind of treatment.”

 

Unwittingly, I put my arm around her back and rested my hand on her shoulder, stroking it gently even though she couldn’t possibly feel it. “That’s not who you are, Elara. Never was who you were either. The fact even faking being like that bothers you so much proves it.”

 

She shifted slightly and looked up at me – even though we both had helmets on I knew she was smiling at me, which felt pretty good. “Thank you Sir, you’re quite right. I apologize for delaying us.”

 

“Don’t worry about it El-Sergeant.” I noticed Jorgan eyeing us with a look that was half-hostile and half-curious. “I’ll just have to make a note of it for our next meeting with dear old Captain Kalor.” She simply snorted at that and didn’t say anything. “Anyway, time for us to be dashing heroes and rescue the ladies Thul.” I winked at her, stupidly, and led her over to Jorgan, who then fell into step as we approached the door.

 

We stood in front of the door for what felt like forever – were we supposed to ring a bell? Knock? Scream ‘Tyrovan’?

 

Finally, my impatience outweighed my critical thinking skills, and I slammed a fist against the door. There were some shuffling sounds from inside, then the door slid open and I was confronted with the terrifying sight of a teenage girl with a ridiculous haircut and an even more ridiculous expression on her face. I removed my helmet to reveal my hopefully friendly-looking face, but that didn’t help things.

 

“Oh mum! Come look at these soldiers at the door, how exciting to have visitors!”

 

What. The. Kark.

 

An older woman shifted into view behind her, severe-looking, but obviously related to the girl in front of us. Her eyes were narrow and suspicious as she shifted her view from her daughter to the three of us. “Valyn, get back from there. You don’t know who these people are.” She seized her daughter around the shoulders and threw the girl behind her. “Look at them, they aren’t even Thul soldiers.”

 

“Ma’am, I’m here to –“

 

“Oh my!” The woman – Altana, if I remembered correctly – interrupted me before I could even finish my sentence. “That accent – they aren’t Imperials, either. They’re Republic brutes, come to sell us into slavery.”

 

“Ma’am, I’m only-“

 

“Oh, mum, don’t be such a killjoy.” The girl – Valyn, I guess – was moving around in a motion I could only describe as frolicking. “They’re going to steal us away from House Thul. What an adventure!”

 

“Ma’am, if you would-“

 

“Valyn, please! Don’t be absurd – this is no time for games. Our very lives are in danger, and all you can think are your silly adventures.”

 

Just like Veresia would have.

 

“Ladies I’m actually here because of Markus.” I finally managed to squeeze out, which quieted them down. “He sent me here to get you out of House Thul, so you could be together again. In Organa custody, I guess.” I tried to find a spot on the wall to focus on. “Yep.”

 

Altana Thul skewered me with a harsh glare. “So you think you can convince us to go with you based on an obvious fabrication? Markus would never ask us to betray our house like this, you cur.”

 

“Oh, mum, you need to appreciate how exciting this is. To be brought as unwilling captives into the heart of the enemy’s palace!” Valyn’s face lit up as she pranced around the room like one of the characters in the vids my sisters used to watch. “I’ve always dreamed of this day.”

 

“You’ve always dreamed of being spirited away to captivity by enemy soldiers? Foolish girl.” Altana Thul seemed to be getting more upset by the minute, and we weren’t blessed with a lot of time to begin with.

 

Then, the part of me known as the brain woke up.

 

“Tyrovan. Markus told me to tell you Tyrovan, so you would know that he really did send us.” I grinned triumphantly as her expression softened somewhat. “So, will you come with me now? Please?”

 

“Markus…Markus really did send you, then.” She gave her daughter a furtive glance before looking back at me. “How will we make our way out of here? The guards will surely wonder why we are leaving.”

 

“That will be half the fun of it,” Valyn exclaimed, loudly enough to hurt my ear. “We shall venture forth into the great unknown and discover new lands and people!”

 

“Or you’ll be in Organa custody while we work things out with your father,” Jorgan deadpanned. “In the meantime, put on these outfits so you’ll be less conspicuous.” He exchanged a knowing glance with me, then slipped his helmet back on. So did Elara, and then I did too.

 

“We’ll be picked up by a transport a short walk from here, so I’d like to get there as quickly as possible.” I paused, trying to think of how best to keep the excitable girl under control. “If we can avoid unnecessary chatter while we’re on the way, that’d be great. I doubt the local forces would be able to ignore something like that.” I felt an absurd pang of guilt as Valyn’s face fell. “Sorry.” I’m not, though. Not really.

 

We managed to hoof it to the extraction point in a few minutes, helped by the fact that Valyn actually managed to restrain from making more than a couple of comments about the wonderful excitement of adventuring with strangers taking her from the only home she’d ever known to spend time in the custody of those that were her family’s enemy.

 

Small victories.

 

Until we got on the transport itself, at least.

 

“Have you fought many battles for the Republic, sir?” Valyn peered curiously at me, like I was some kind of scientific specimen or a display at a museum. “You have that scar, so I do wonder where you got it from. Scars on a man are –“

 

“Usually a sign of a wound that didn’t heal properly.” I sighed, thankful I’d cut her off in time. “All three of us have served with the Republic for several years now.”

 

“You must be quite decorated!” By the Maker, how does she have so much energy? “To be assigned to such a risky mission behind enemy lines, I mean. Don’t you think, mum?”

 

Her mother merely rolled her eyes.

 

“Something like that. We try to do our best, for everyone involved.” I took the risk of looking at her and was met by expectant eyes. “We’re not here to be heroes. Just make sure that we get the job done without doing any more damage than we have to. There are good people on both sides, it’s important to remember that.”

 

The last bit piqued Altana’s attention for a moment, but she quickly returned to feigning complete indifference.

 

“Oh, what a lovely sentiment! If you weren’t a brutish soldier of the dastardly Republic, well…” Valyn’s eyes flitted between the elder Thul and me; I could just see the hearts popping up from them. I decided not to look in Elara’s direction for a while.

 

“Uh, sure. I do what I can.” My armor was feeling tight around the neck, but there wasn’t anything I could do. Especially since the pilot was apparently taking the long way back to House Organa.

 

“Your family must be quite proud of you,” Valyn added, almost absentmindedly.

 

“I hope they are.”

 

She gave me a look, but managed to take the hint and began bothering Jorgan about things instead. He didn’t look much happier about it than I must have, but I’d rather she be his problem than mine. I dozed off the rest of the way back; sleep was sometimes hard to come by when you had so much **** going on.

 

When we finally landed, it was Valyn Thul that led the charge out of the transport, landing on the ground with a subdued thump and gazing up with wonder at the pair of tall Organa soldiers that were flanking Captain Cormac as he stood, waiting for us. Not wanting to risk a major incident, I motioned for him to lead us to the detention center so the Thuls could have a heartwarming reunion they would sing songs of.

 

Altana dropped her act the moment we came into view of her husband. She slipped out of her servant’s garb, and sprang forward. “Markus – Markus! You’re alive!” The force field that kept them apart physically did little to hide their emotional connection – it almost reminded me of my parents, before…before everything that had happened had happened. “This…soldier…and his squad brought us here, he said we would be allowed to be together.”

 

Markus nodded. “We will – I have made arrangements with the lieutenant, and he has agreed to that arrangement. I am…grateful…for that.” He looked in my direction and dipped his head slightly. “Lieutenant – I shall provide you with the information you need tomorrow.” He would have said more, but Cormac deactivated the force field, and he was suddenly swarmed over by his female family members.

 

The squad and I took the hint, and slipped back into the commander center for the prison, where Cormac was waiting for us.

 

“Thanks for your assistance, captain. It looks like we’re on the right track with finding out where Gearbox is and taking him down.”

 

Cormac nodded, then covered a yawn with the palm of his hand. “Glad to hear it. If you don’t mind, we’re going to be bringing in the night shift shortly, so I’m going to hit the rack for a few hours of sleep.”

 

I laughed. “No problem, captain. We’ll be doing the same ourselves. We’ll meet here tomorrow morning, say 900 hours, and see what our esteemed guest has to say.” The captain nodded and left. Jorgan and Elara moved to follow, but stopped when they realized I wasn’t joining them.

 

“Are you coming, Sir?” Elara’s voice was back to its usual, measured, tone.

 

“No, not yet. Just going to check a couple of things out, first.” I smiled reassuringly at them, which was good enough for Jorgan. Elara’s gaze lingered on my face for a moment, the barest hint of concern present in her sparkling green eyes, but eventually she also accepted what I had said.

 

I positioned myself across from the Thuls, where neither they nor the remaining Organa guards could see me. And then I watched. I watched as Valyn regaled her father with some kind of story that left him almost in tears from his laughter, and even managed to spawn a smile on her mother’s face. There were quieter moments, too, where the family members seemed more interested in just taking in the fact they were together again, and nothing else needed to be said or done. The smiles, the tears, even the nagging. It was all so familiar, and yet all too distant from me.

 

After a few minutes, I realized I’d seen all I needed to see. Too much, really.

 

I stumbled my way to the quarters Duke Organa had provided for me and plopped myself down on my bed, staring blankly into space. It was one thing to see Elara reunited with her brother. Elara was probably the best person I’d ever met, and she deserved every bit of happiness she had the chance to enjoy. Maker knew she’s suffered enough for doing the right thing.

 

But the Thuls? I felt my fists forming before they ever did. Why did they deserve this? Why should Markus Thul get the chance to laugh and smile and be with his family as he grew older?

 

Why the **** should he be so lucky? Why him? Why not me?

 

The cooler with the small bottles of alcohol was close, too close. I forced myself to lie back in bed, feeling pretty ****** for feeling that way about a man that was doing his part to help.

 

And then I cried.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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  • 3 weeks later...

I mentioned this on tumblr, but if I ever have spare time I might write a few Valyn Thul/Forex stories, they're fun! Also - spoiler tagged for size - our own Kabeone drew a picture of Ayrs for me :D

 

http://25.media.tumblr.com/4580eaa801c5cb82dada061353dec815/tumblr_n1iguan0Xi1rc6qsko1_500.png

 

 

I woke to the sound of fervent tapping at my door. After a brief struggle with the blankets and a near-death experience when I tripped over the bottle lying at the floor by the foot of the bed, I stumbled my way to the door. I quickly patted myself down to make sure I had a shirt and at least shorts on, and then slapped the control panel to open the damn thing.

 

The door had barely begun to hiss in reaction to being opened when something fast and hard hit me square in the chest. It didn’t hit with enough force to move me, but I heard a muffled squeak. A familiar-sounding one, at that.

 

“Oh, oh my. My apologies to you, I was just so excited to be visiting a dashing commander of the villainous Republic forces.” Valyn scrunched up her facial features into what looked like a rough approximation of a particularly angry rancor. “Right into the belly of the beast, as it were. Quite the adventure, if I do say so myself. Mum will never believe all the excitement I've had this morning.”

 

I prayed that the vein in my forehead was not as close to popping out of my face as it felt.

 

“Of course. Is there something I can do for you, Miss Thul?” I tried my best to twist my lips into a friendly smile but couldn’t quite do it.

 

“Nothing in particular, I suppose.” She flitted about the room, coming perilously close to the same bottle I’d tripped over and paying particularly close attention to my wardrobe. “You must look so dashing in your dress uniform. Mother always said it was an abomination and a crime against fashionistas everywhere, but I don’t agree. I think it is positively marvelous.” She turned back to me and flashed a huge smile.

 

“Marvelous. Naturally.” I wrinkled my nose. “How did you get up here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in special quarters, or with your father?”

 

“Father is such a bore at this hour.” She sighed sadly. “You wouldn’t believe what he said when I told him so, too.”

 

“I think I can believe it just fine, actually.” I quickly glanced away as she shot a suspicious look in my direction. “So, I take it you’ll be serving as my alarm clock during my stay here on Alderaan?” I grimaced and rubbed my forehead ruefully as I started feeling last night.

 

“I wanted to hear stories about your adventures! Being stuck under armed guard in House Organa is barely more exciting than being under armed guard in House Thul. I want to explore this wonderful world and discover all of its wonders!”

 

“Hmm. You don’t seem to be under much of a guard now.”

 

That seemed to break her out of her routine. “True, but those loutish brutes are just around every corner.”

 

“Uh huh.” I narrowed my eyes and considered my companion for a moment. The girl was excitable, annoying and a menace to hung-over soldiers everywhere, but I couldn’t quite find it inside me to send her away. “Tell you what, you give me five minutes to get freshened up and I’ll give you a short tour of the palace. How’s that sound?”

 

Her face lit up like a million Life Day lights and the smile plastered on her face could have stretched from Alderaan to the Outer Rim. “Oh that would be wonderful. Do hurry up then!”

 

I scowled slightly before regaining my composure. “After which, I’m returning you to your parents. Maker knows what the Organas will make of you running around like some kind of honored guest instead of a prisoner. Of sorts.”

 

For once, she didn’t say anything; instead, she quickly made her way out of my quarters and began tapping her foot excitably right outside. I thought about asking her exactly how she’d convinced the palace guards down on the detention level to let her out, then thought better of it. No reason to give her another reason to start her whole act again. Instead, I quickly slipped on my standard tunic and pants. It took a minute longer to find my boots, but once I’d gotten those on I had no more excuses for delay.

 

She was leaning against the wall as I exited my quarters, but practically jumped to the ceiling once she saw me. For a moment, I wondered if I’d have been this crazy at her age if I were brought to a place like this, but I hoped I would have been clever enough to have escape being dragged to somewhere like the Organa palace.

 

Luckily, she was easily entertained, though I didn’t need firsthand experience with giving a tour to know that. She gaped at the garish paintings, made strange noises when we walked through the gallery of absurdly stupid-looking sculptures and seemed in awe of the fact that the Organas had included a marble staircase in their palace. We got a few strange looks – mostly Valyn, of course – but there were no interruptions, no respite for me. I learned all about her studies, her family, even her favorite animated adventure series on the HoloNet. I hadn’t felt his lost since the time my first date with Muriel Vance ended up being a trip to her neighbors’ farm so we could tip their Barasian cattle.

 

We were just finishing up the first floor and were heading toward the main stairs for another half-hour of mind-melting fun when I spotted the most unlikely of potential saviors.

 

“Forex. Hey, Forex!” I waved the droid over and – for once – was thrilled to see it motoring as fast as possible to where Valyn and I were standing. I waited until it was closer to us before continuing. “I have a new mission for you, Forex. A top priority one, but strictly off the books. Do you think you can handle that kind of responsibility, Forex?”

 

The droid’s ‘eyes’ dimmed for a moment as it considered the question carefully. At least, that’s what I was assuming it was doing.

 

“Yes sir! Of course, Sir!” It sounded as excitable as ever. “One small matter, Sir. I was unable to locate any prowling Imperials on the grounds of the palace. Not in humanoid form, or even pretending to be tumbleweeds like you suggested.”

 

I cleared my throat loudly to keep from smiling. “Really? That’s unfortunate, Forex. Perhaps you’ve driven them to ground, though.”

 

Its lights for eyes shone brightly at that consideration. “I should hope so, sir! Why it burns my very circuits to think of the vile servants of the Empire tainting a place such as this, even if its denizens are not entirely appreciative of the heroic lengths to which we go in order to defend our glorious Republic.”

 

“Oh my, is this a war droid? It is simply splendid, I haven’t ever seen anything like it,” Valyn interjected unhelpfully.

 

“No, I imagine not.” I grit my teeth and returned my attention to Forex. “What happened, Forex? Did you have problems with the civilians?” I suddenly realized the potential folly of unleashing a maniacally patriotic war droid on the prats here at Organa’s palace.

 

“A few vociferous disagreements, Sir! Why, one group of potential saboteurs even had the gall to resort to physical violence when confronted with their suspicious doings.”

 

Oh, Stars.

 

“What happened, Forex? Was someone hurt?”

 

The droid shook its head. “No, Sir. I forcefully reminded them of their inherent duty to obey the Republic and respect its chain of command and communicated my need for cooperation in my investigation of potential sedition.” The droid continued before I could get a word in. “After I demonstrated the essential nature of my mission and emphasized my desire to achieve results in the minimum amount of time, they were more than happy to comply with my requests.”

 

All sorts of horrible images passed through my head, and I began to regret my earlier decision.

 

“Uh, that’s great Forex. I hope you taught those ne’er-do-wells a lesson about Republic ethics, too.” The droid didn’t respond. “Or, at least, I hope you didn’t violate too many regs. Otherwise, Elara will have my head.”

 

“Sergeant Dorne? Oh, I’d love to talk to her.” Valyn Thul was talking again, much to my dismay. “I could tell from her accent that she is from the Empire and she must have such an enthralling story to tell!”

 

I eyed each of them in turn, trying to contain the blush that resulted when I realized that I’d referred to Elara by her first name to someone other than her. “Hey, you two. I just had a wonderful idea.” I waited for a moment to judge their reactions; judging from the rapt expression on the girl’s face, I knew I had at least one of them interested. "Forex, why don’t you show Miss Thul around the palace and introduce her to the Republic’s ideals, Forex? It would be a good opportunity for you to expand on your contributions to the squad.”

 

“Sir! That sounds like an ex-“ Forex never got the chance to finish, as Valyn sprung toward him with the energy of a hungry rancor sensing its first meal in a long time.

 

“Oh this will be a story to tell! The brave but secretly frightened girl in the custody of a fierce and terrifyingly vicious Republic machine of death, deep in the heart of the enemy stronghold. What will she uncover? Will she survive? This is truly extraordinary!”

 

I stared at her for a moment, the only sounds her excited breathing and my teeth grinding away.

 

“Yes, exactly like that. Anyway, I’ll see you guys later.” It took all of my self-control not to sprint away, but I did allow myself to break into a brisk power walk toward the detention center. As I made my way to the access corridor, I noticed a familiar figure with blonde hair in the distance heading toward one of the dining halls; it took even more self-control not to sprint after her.

 

Thul was alone by the time I got to his cell; I assumed his wife had either gone to get breakfast, or was trying to pawn her daughter off on some unsuspecting Organa noble as part of a deal to get her husband out of prison. The detention center was fairly empty at this hour, so we’d be left in peace, just how I wanted it. Idiot Organa soldiers were all too happy about letting us know what they really wanted to do to the man. We needed his info quickly, so we could transfer him somewhere safer, where the local yokels weren’t likely to rip him to shreds.

 

“I’m here for your info,” I offered as I deactivated the field and entered his cell. “Faster we get this done, the faster we can get you and your family somewhere where there aren’t a bunch of people wanting to see you knocked around real good. Or worse.”

 

I didn’t see any new bruises or marks, but he looked a little more haggard than he had the previous day, and there was a sense of weariness around him – the kind you get when you’ve had the fight beaten out of you.

 

“Yes. Yes, of course.” He motioned for me to sit across from him but I demurred with a simple shake of my head.

 

“You want to know about this Gearbox’s activities on Alderaan, yes?”

 

I nodded. “Yes. You can save any other confessions for your Republic debriefing officer.”

 

“Fair enough.” Thul snorted to cover up a chuckle. “I was not made aware of the entirety of his plans, and I cannot point you to his specific location, but I know enough for you to get there on your own given your capability.” I handed over the data pad he’d requested and watched in silence as he created a detailed map of some highlands to the northeast, marking several locations. “We built an extensive power generation network in the mountains at the locations I’ve marked, all tethered to central generator at a Thul fortification here.” He tapped a red circle on his map. “Take out that generator and you should read a massive loss of energy output wherever his facility is located.”

 

“Seems simple enough.” I chewed on that for a moment. Seeming simple and being simple in practice were often two entirely different things. “What if there’s a backup generator or a second facility for him to move to?”

 

He shook his head. “There wasn’t time or money enough for that, I can be sure of it. We had barely enough time to build that system. It’s possible they’ve been working on the backups you are concerned about, but it would be several weeks, at least, until they’re online.”

 

I nodded along with him, carefully comparing the map he had provided with the recon imagery we had of Thul forces in the area. They matched about as well as I could hope – no secret armies or emplacements to block our way or natural obstacles either. By all appearances, Thul’s info was on the up and up, another good moment, but also one I wasn’t too comfortable believing. Part of me wanted to assume it was an honest effort to uphold his part of the bargain, but I could not shake the suspicion that he might also be taking advantage of that good feeling to lure us into a trap.

 

“Looks good. I’m off, then.” I didn’t really feel like exchanging any small talk with him, so I angled my way for the exit. It seemed Thul was more or less of the same mind, apparently, because he didn’t even offer so much as a goodbye. Fine by me. He might be helping us right now, but he wasn’t our friend.

 

Once I determined it was safe to enter, I headed into the dining room to enjoy a delicious, if over-the-top, meal provided by one of the thousands of cooks that seemed to populate the palace. There was a brief hint of trouble when she asked me about nerf steak, but after I realized she meant no offense, I chowed down on the meat just as much as the rest of the dishes.

 

Elara and Jorgan were waiting for me at our designated briefing room, as prompt as always. I wished I could say the same for myself, but it ended up taking a couple of minutes to make sure my appearance was up to par. For regulatory purposes, of course.

 

The operational plan was a simple one – several Organa units would cover our approach and then provide the necessary distraction to keep potential reinforcements from interfering with our work. Captain Cormac arranged for two of his best platoons to go with us, which I appreciated, even if I wasn’t quite sure if it was meant as a gesture of generosity, or one to get us out of his proverbial hair faster. I supposed it doesn’t matter much, anyway, since I wanted off Alderaan as soon as possible.

 

It took until we were nearly at the staging area for me to realize that Forex hadn’t responded to its summon. Truth be told, keeping Valyn Thul occupied was probably a herculean enough task for it, but I wanted the extra firepower in case things got difficult at the power generator. Even if Markus Thul’s information was correct, it was still going to be somewhat out of date, and there was always the possibility that he might have underestimated the strength of the forces we’d be facing.

 

“Forex? Do you copy?”

 

It felt like forever before I got the droid’s reply. “Sir, I will be arriving at the designated departure zone momentarily!”

 

“Okay.” I clicked the comm off before my curiosity got the better of me and I reactivated it. “Is there a problem of some kind, Forex? Possibly a bipedal one?”

 

“No Sir! Miss Thul has proven to be a most invigorating companion, even as I have imparted the wisdom of the Republic’s egalitarian policies to her. I have no doubt that she will likewise share the glorious truth of the Republic way of life to her entire social circle!”

 

“Uh huh.” I clicked the comm back off as I Felt my head start to throb. Elara must have noticed, too, because she slipped away from the main group to come over to me.

 

“Is everything all right, Sir? You appear a bit stressed.” She sounded strangely amused instead of worried, though.

 

“Fine, fine. Just some of the usual nonsense from Forex, with a dash of Valyn Thul.” I made a face, away from the rest of the group so only she could see it.

 

“It sounds like you might be jealous.” Elara’s smile was a subtle one, but it got my heart racing a bit all the same. “She did seem rather fond of you, Sir.”

 

I didn’t quite like the mischievous note to her voice. “Naw, you know how it is.” I scratched at the scar on my cheek nervously, realizing I’d gotten myself into another situation again. It burned with every scratching motion, but it was all I could do to avoid conversation.

 

“Perhaps,” she allowed as she let the topic drop and switching her attentions to my scar. “Sir, you really should avoid picking at that scar.” She made a move to grab my hand away from my face, but I deftly dodged her maneuver, causing her finger to gently trace my face along the scar. For such a delicate touch, her finger shot a huge bolt of electricity through my body. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice, though she did seem embarrassed by what had happened. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean –“

 

I put my hands out between us. “Don’t worry Elara. I mean, Sergeant. We’ll find some time later. To talk.” Performing some necessary triage, I stormed off toward the transport we had been assigned.

 

Kark. Kark. Kark. Kark. Kark. Kark. Kark.

 

Forex was waiting for us onboard. I was distressed to notice that it had a pink heart painted onto its chassis, surrounded by what appeared to be multicolored sparkles. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and did not deign to ask it any questions about what it and/or Valyn had been up to. I settled into my seat across from the Organa pilot and spent the entire trip avoiding looking at or thinking about any of my squad. Especially Jorgan, who was trying to shoot death rays at me with his eyes from across the transport.

 

The mission proved to be even easier than Thul’s information had made it seem it would be. Three of the heavy guns that Thul had expected to be defending the approach weren’t even installed when we arrived, and most of the soldiers defending the exterior of the facility were of no better quality than the ones we’d fought at the Spears of Organa. It was another reminder that it was the normal folk of Alderaan that were fighting and dying for an entire class that didn’t give a damn about anyone else except for viewing them as means to the end they sought.

 

When we reached the generator controls I sent Forex on ahead to interface with them – it was about as close to an engineering guru that we had, and while I still didn’t trust it much, I trusted it a whole hell of a lot more than the Organas’ man they’d send along.

 

He called himself “Chuckles”, but I hadn’t seen the man so much as crack a grin and there was a certain grimness to him that made me uneasy. It wasn’t .like anything I’d seen with Havoc or the 23rd. Cormac hadn’t seemed too fond of him either – specifically mentioning that Pallos Organa had personally assigned the man to the mission. It smacked of interference, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what their goal was, and I couldn’t afford to turn down the assistance without offending the Republic’s most valued allies.

 

I sighed and sidled over to Jorgan when “Chuckles” gave me another scowl.

 

“What do you think of this Chuckles guy, Jorgan? Something doesn’t sit right with me, makes me wonder what Pallos’ end game is.”

 

“Is there a question there, Sir?” Jorgan seemed unusually reticent to give his opinion.

 

“Maybe.” I casually swept my hand over mouth to keep any of the Alderaanians from catching on. “The Duke seems to be on the up and up, but I have a feeling more than a few of the others would be more than happy to cut us off at the knees if they could.”

 

Jorgan nodded slightly. “Not just the usual bureaucratic crap, either.”

 

“Keep an eye out on this Chuckles guy. I’m concerned that he and/or his masters might be up to something we won’t like. They weren’t happy about us working with Thul. They’re probably even less happy knowing we’re dealing fairly with him.”

 

“Can’t say I’m too happy we’re doing it, either.”

 

I nodded slightly. “I understand. But we’re doing it, anyway. He’ll get what’s coming to him in Republic custody. That should be enough.” I took a deep breath and surveyed the scene, ensuring we didn’t have anyone listening in. When I was convinced we were in the clear, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “We know that the Organas have their own interests. We know they roughed up Thul before. I won’t let them do it again, especially with his family around now.”

 

“Got it, sir.” Jorgan nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on the guy.”

 

Everything else seemed to be under control, thankfully. Forex was still cheerfully discussing Republic political philosophy with one of the Organa soldiers, no doubt trying to convince her that our system was not merely a beacon of light in a galaxy of darkness but also downright splendorific. Jorgan was doing his best to appear casual and Elara…Elara was coming right at me at the speed of sound, a worried look on her face.

 

“Sir, I have a priority message from Captain Cormac over the secondary tactical channel.”

 

I grimaced, nodded, and reactivated the rest of my comm system. “I read you, captain. What’s going on.”

 

“Lieutenant…Lieutenant M-Martell.” His voice was as high as a school girl’s.

 

“Yes, that’s my name. Calm down, captain, and tell me what’s going on.”

 

“Th-they have the Duke. The Wolf Baron does.” There was an audible intake of air before Cormac continued. “Sorry, lieutenant. After your team left the palace, Duke Charle admitted that the Wolf Baron communicated with him and General Kashim. The baron had taken several hundred hostages and was threatening to kill them unless…”

 

It suddenly felt like there was a never-ending pit where my stomach had been. “Unless…”

 

Cormac swallowed hard. “Unless the Duke turned himself over to Thul custody. Which he did.”

 

“What the ****?”

 

“He said he had to, lieutenant.” Cormac paused again, obviously having difficulty explaining it. “He said he couldn’t expect people to follow and die for a leader that would not do the same for them. He said he needed to prove to everyone that House Organa stood for something more than petty politics and power struggles.”

 

Son of a *****. Karking naïve noble with no karking common sense. The hell is he trying to prove, anyway?

 

I seethed in silence as the vein in my forehead came perilously close to popping out. “What’s the status of the Duke and the hostages now? We’ve just about finished here and can provide assistance as needed.”

 

“The hostages are safely in our custody, Lieutenant Martell. The Duke…is in Thul hands at a compound about an hour from your position. I can –“

 

“You can send us the layout and provide us with as much ground support as you can while we get him out of there. That’s what you can do.” It suddenly felt like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. “We’ll head in immediately with everything we’ve got.”

 

“Acknowledged.”

 

The channel cut off and I heard the sound of data being uploaded into the tactical displays of everyone around me. Small bunker, nothing too complex. Didn’t look to be too many soldiers guarding it either, probably some kind of temporary holding facility while the ‘Wolf Baron’ decided how best to use his new hostage. It gave us a window to do something about it, but only a small one, and we could ill-afford to screw anything up along the way.

 

Once Forex had confirmed that the generator was set to blow, we all cleared the hell out of there. The Organas piled into their two transports, while the four of us hopped on the lighter model that Cormac had scrounged up for us. The three vehicles lifted up in unison, kicking up a huge dust cloud that only began settling over the wreckage of the Thul defenders as the scene faded from view.

 

We were still about twenty minutes out from the target site when I noticed that the other two Organa ships break off from the formation and head back north, in what looked to be the direction of the palace. I commed each pilot in turn, then Chuckles, but got no reply. None of our attempts to get through to Kashim or Cormac made it through, either. I didn’t like it; I knew something was wrong.

 

Can’t do a damned thing about it right now, though. The karking duke needs you first.

 

We landed a mile out of the bunker, the whining of our repulsorlifts drowned out by the roar of gunfire from up ahead. Judging from the sound, the Organa forces were putting up a hell of a fight against the defenders; I only hoped it would be enough of a distraction to see us into the bunker.

 

I took point – normally I’d have had Forex take the lead, but its metal chassis would be too noticeable from too far away. Instead, I had the droid take up the rear, with Jorgan and Elara filling in either end of the diamond formation. We clambered our way slowly through the dense foliage of our approach route, coming at the bunker from a hilly area to the northeast where there wasn’t much fighting. It was a gamble – if the Thul forces recognized the suspicious nature of an entire corridor being left open…

 

Best not to think of that right now. Mission to accomplish. Prissy noble to save.

 

The Maker was with me, at least this once. With us. There was no fire directed at us as we entered the perimeter of the bunker, no hostile forces, and no security mechanisms. I had to wing a random guard that happened to pick the wrong time to come out of a side door, but we reached an auxiliary entrance without any kind of fight. I had the rest of the squad brace themselves a safe distance away and left a thermite device to announce our entrance. I sprinted back to join the rest of the squad.

 

“Three. Two. One.” I flipped the triggering device open and smashed the button. The device blew the door to kingdom come, and the roar filled my ears even through the helmet. After things died down, I turned my attention back to the squad. “Alright. Clean sweep. In and out. We get the duke out safe and sound, and we all get back to the palace safe and sound.” Elara and Jorgan nodded, and then we were out of time.

 

There wasn’t any time for niceties like taking prisoners or offering to let the Thul soldiers blocking our way surrender or walk away from the fight. I wasn’t sure if I would have been able to make that work even if we weren’t scrambling, but...

 

Thankfully, the majority of the defenders were tied up dealing with the Organa forces to the north and northwest. We took out all of a half dozen sentries as he made our way to the command center, and the lifesign readings revealed only a handful of other potential enemies ahead. Jorgan and I opened the firefight with our usual routine – a pair of thermal grenades followed by a curtain of bolts from his assault cannon. The Thul forces returned fire, but they managed only a smattering of blaster bolts before Forex’s weaponry took out the pair to our left and my own shot took out the survivor to our right.

 

Which left only the two lifeforms behind the blast door opposite us. It didn’t surprise me that the baron had run and hid – it was about all you could expect from these kinds of people. Unfortunately, if he felt like he had no other options, it also meant he might go and do something stupid. Or worse.

 

Forex plugged itself into the system jack adjacent to the door and began overriding the lock as I fiddled with the communication system. I wasn’t sure if the lock was that good or whether my hacking skills had somehow measurably improved, but I finished quickly, while Forex was still getting started. I activated the private channel to the room beyond, not really sure what to expect.

 

“This is Lieutenant Ayrs Martell, Republic Special Forces. I’m prepared to allow you a peaceful surrender into my custody if you release Duke Organa.”

 

There was a slight hiss of static before I heard the voice of an appropriately uptight-sounding man on the channel. “Who is this? A mere lieutenant thinks to threaten me? I am the Wolf Baron, not some minor functionary.”

 

Maker save me.

 

“What you are is surrounded. Your forces are otherwise engaged, and we’ll be through the door momentarily. If you agree to surrender, it’ll be easier for everyone.”

 

Another pause.

 

“I shall not allow myself to be bullied like this. I will hold until my last breath, but my reinforcements will be here to recover the situation and end your pathetic life.” He cut the channel with an audible huff of annoyance.

 

Fortunately, it was at that exact moment that Forex secured the override. The door lifted to the ceiling with a flourish and I found myself standing across the room from the infamous Wolf Baron, who ended up being a middle aged man with an aggressively stupid goatee and an even more offensively stupid hat. When his shock wore off, he tightened the grip his arm had around Duke Organa’s neck and dug his gun’s barrel into Organa’s cheek. I sighed and drew my pistol – not Mom’s DV-22, but the standard issue Mark 14 blaster they gave you fresh out of the academy. I didn’t even bother to approach him; I just pointed it straight at his head.

 

“I don’t have time for this ****, Thul. I’m giving you until the count of three to release the duke and surrender yourself into my custody. If you don’t, well..” I shrugged helplessly at him.

 

“You…you couldn’t possibly hit me from that range,” Thul sputtered.

 

“I grew up learning to shoot, you idiot. Mom was a trooper, I was a hunter. How happy would you be to lose this gamble, right here, right now?” I tensed and did my final positioning. “Three.”

 

“Well, I would-“

 

“Two.”

 

“You wouldn’t-“

 

One.”

 

“I surrender, I surrender!” I had to keep from laughing as he threw away his gun with a disgusted look and fell to his knees, and again when Jorgan dragged him outside while I checked on the duke with Elara. He seemed to be in decent shape, even offered a wan smile when I removed my helmet to greet him.

 

“Lieutenant, I am quite glad to see you were in command of my rescue. You are as capable a soldier as I have ever met, not the least of which because you could make a shot like that.”

 

I laughed nervously. “What if I said I couldn’t have made that shot if my own life depended on it?” Both Elara and the duke glared at me like Mom used to. The room suddenly felt real hot. “I mean, maybe I could have. Probably not. Stupid Mark 14s, they’ve got such terrible weighting to them. Anyway, we should get you back to the palace.”

 

“You…you have that other pistol.” I couldn’t say so but I appreciated how well he was taking it.

 

I fingered Mom’s DV-22 in its holster. “Yeah, but that one’s so old I’d be lucky to get a single shot out of it, and if I did...” My voice trailed off for a moment, stolen by memories. It was a hoarse whisper when I got it back. “That shot is meant for someone else.”

 

They didn't say anything the entire way back to the transport.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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  • 3 weeks later...

I let Elara handle the Duke’s people on the flight back to the palace. I’d been more than happy to see them swooping in on our LZ with a couple of armored carriers, but dealing with fussy diplomatic types was more of her thing than mine, anyway. Not like you can put Jorgan or 4X on the job, either. Elara looked happy enough to do it, anyway, probably since the Organa bureaucrats actually gave her a challenge for once.

 

Mostly, I was concerned about what the withdrawal of the Organa commandos we’d hit the power generator with meant. They’d peeled off and returned to the palace instead of assisting with the rescue op for their own duke; it made no damn sense, which only worried me even more. Not every Organa was the kind of person the Republic would want to associate with, after all, and the vibe those men and women had given off had been…off. Wrong, in the way that Nar Shaddaa had felt.

 

You’ll find out soon enough, Ayrs. No point stressing out about it now.

 

I tapped Jorgan on the shoulder, then tapped my ear, letting him know I wanted him to pop his helmet on. I did the same.

 

“Your thoughts on the op, Jorgan?” The Cathar wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but he was an acceptable distraction from stressing out about Alderaanian and intergalactic political relations, and wouldn't sugarcoat his feelings about the Alderaanians. Forex would be able to overhear us on the channel, of course, but I figured it would understand to keep its version of a mouth shut.

 

“Smooth, smoother than I expected. Those Organa troops weren’t the screw-ups I expected.” He licked his lips before continuing. “Hopefully we didn’t use up all our good luck on that one run. Especially with that pistol stunt of yours.”

 

“Ha.” I snorted loudly. “What did you make of the Duke’s own stunt?”

 

I could almost hear Jorgan smirking through his helmet. “Are you asking what I think of what he did, sir, or what I think of our initial judgments of the man?”

 

My judgment, not yours, Jorgan.” I grimaced. “But since I’ll need to file a report on our unscheduled adventure, I figure I might as well get input from the squad.”

 

“You mean since Dorne will need to file a report for you, sir?” Jorgan’s tone was as close to innocence as was possible, only strengthening my desire to strangle him.

 

“Yeah, whatever. Just remember that if you were on the squad because of your sense of humor, you’d have been dishonorably discharged a few years ago.”

 

I heard a bark of laughter over the comm before Jorgan fell silent. Somehow, despite everything else, it was reassuring to know that I wasn’t the only one with concerns about certain elements of our Organa allies. I realized that it wasn’t as if we could only ally with people that doubled as saints, but the internecine fighting on this planet seemed to breed a particular breed of nastiness. If that wasn’t enough, there –

 

“Sir! A question, if I may.” Forex’s loud, overly excited, voice boomed over the comm. It hurt my ears, and I could see Jorgan rubbing the side of his helmet ruefully as well.

 

“Go ahead, Forex. Not so loudly, though, if you please.”

 

“Affirmative, sir! I am receiving a distress signal from Valyn Thul on a secondary channel.”

 

“You’re what?” Jorgan doubled over again, attracting unwanted attention. “You gave a potentially hostile civilian access to a comm channel to communicate with you?”

 

Forex bobbed its head up and down. “Of course, Sir! She assured me that she was entirely onboard with our glorious project of bringing democracy and freedom to the enslaved peoples of the Empire! In fact, she generously offered her services in designing and distributing informative pamphlets for distribution among the Thul population in order to better disseminate our political stances. I have calculated the odds for success and I believe them to be quite good!”

 

I discovered that my right hand was shaking, and felt a vein in my forehead nearly pop, and found myself speaking through gritted teeth once I had composed myself. “And that message she sent?”

 

“Oh, of course Sir! It is an automated distress signal.”

 

The possibilities flashed through my mind like a montage on a holoshow, numerous possibilities but only one that seemed likely. The Organa troops that had left us after the power generator, sent by the hot-headed Pallos Organa…and they’d left their duke behind to return to the palace mid-op.

 

****.

 

I unstrapped myself from the chair and scrambled up to the cockpit. We were still nearly half an hour away from the palace, but that was at our current cruising speed. We could go faster, we needed to go faster. I needed the crew to understand.

 

“Pilot? We have a priority situation back at the palace. I need you to push this bird as hard as you can.”

 

The pilot gave me a look that suggested he’d rather push me off the ship than do what I’d said. “We have procedures for this, Lieutenant. We go as fast as they tell me to.”

 

I slammed a fist down on the control panel, drawing angry looks from the pilot and his partner. “I don’t have time for your damn procedures, and trust me, I’m well acquainted with procedures and this would be a good time to shove them firmly up your ***.”

 

“This is an Organa vessel, Lieutenant. I recommend you retake your sit and we’ll get there when we get there.”

 

I heard the shuffling behind me only a moment before the smooth Alderaanian voice. “And the duke recommends you listen to Lieutenant Martell and expedite our return. Surely you would not want procedural matters to interfere with the duke’s wishes, would you?” I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see a petite, middle-aged, woman. I still found her more intimidating than anyone outside of Garza. Or Elara, when you try to talk to her. Idiot. “If you don’t mind, Lieutenant, please return to your seat. The mind boggles at how dangerous travel at such speeds might be.”

 

Then she winked at me. I simply gulped and slipped back into the passenger area. I carefully avoided looking like I was looking at anyone, especially the woman that had rescued me in the cockpit. I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the way it’d felt like she was watching me from behind as I had returned to my seat, and I definitely didn’t like the way she was looking at me now.

 

We put down at the palace fifteen minutes later, but got delayed by protocol requiring that the duke be taken off the ship before we could disembark. The minutes it took for him and his entourage to get off felt like hours, and I was feeling more than a little antsy as it was. We followed right on the heels of the duke’s entourage, double timing it from the landing platform toward the palace. Forex wasn’t getting anything else from Valyn Thul over the comm, and there was a lot of static on the standard comm channels when we tried patching into the local defense network. It wasn’t until we were nearly to the main palace that I heard the familiar voice of Captain Cormac.

 

“Lieu--- --tell, do you –py?”

 

I grimaced – anything that was able to create that kind of interference on a Republic channel was probably serious business, and if the Organas weren’t reacting to it – and the relaxed posture of the guards we passed suggested they weren’t – then it was an inside, approved, job. Which means our suspicions were right and we’re about to be in real trouble.

 

“Captain Cormac, this is Lieutenant Martell. I read your signal, but we’re running into a lot of interference. Is there an issue in the detention center? Do you need assistance?”

 

There was a loud burst of static before the reply came through. “—los Organa ---- ---- Markus --- women. Require ---sistance.”

 

No real point in continuing half a conversation, so I gave a quick hand signal to the rest of the squad and redirected all of us to the detention level. For a moment, I wondered what Pallos Organa might possibly want with Markus Thul and his family; then I realized it was all too obvious. Worried, I signaled to the squad that we needed to move even faster, the lowered my head to lead the way. I tried not to notice the strange looks from the people we passed along the way.

 

We halted our progress just outside the detention center – I could hear raised voices from inside the room, and I didn’t want to walk into any surprised. On the other hand, it wasn’t like we could storm in with weapons at the ready. *********** Alderaanians. Always finding a way to make things difficult. We needed to be planning our next move against Gearbox, not wasting time on petty squabbles. Damnit.

 

I peered around the corner and didn’t like what I saw at all. ‘Chuckles’ and the rest of the unit that had been with us on the op were arrayed in two lines facing the cell area; their backs were to us, but their hostility was palpable. Across from them was Captain Cormac, with a pair of his unit to either side. Behind them were Altana and Valyn Thul, standing as tall and proud as ever, but the elder woman wore a concerned look that suggested we’d arrived just in time. Judging from the noticeable absence of Markus Thul, I just hoped we were not too late.

 

Time to make a decision on how to play this.

 

I suspected Chuckles and his troops would not be receptive to talking, but coming in with weapons drawn would be too damn risky; one frayed nerve or misunderstanding later, and we could all end up dead. No, we’d have to keep things professional, and hope the situation could be resolved without overt threats. Fortunately, I suspected I had an answer for that problem. With nothing else to debate, I strode boldly into the room, feeling the reassuring presence of my squad and the slightly less reassuring one of Forex, sweeping in behind me.

 

“Chuckles, I’m surprised to see you and your men here. After all, I would have thought that rescuing the duke would be more of a priority for you than harassing Captain Cormac and intimidating a prisoner’s family.” I folded my arms across my chest as he and his entire group swiveled on their feet to face us. I was relieved to see they all had holstered their weapons as well, but the look in his eye was troubling. “Perhaps we can speak about this in private, away from here.”

 

He shook his head. “I’ve got orders, straight from the Organas. I intend to follow them, regardless of what you or your Republic wants.”

 

Pallos. He didn’t need to say it. “What will it take you to leave this place now, without any trouble?” I didn’t expect to like his answer, so I subtly shrugged my right shoulder to signal my squad to be ready. I still hoped to avoid a fight, but….

 

“You don’t understand, do you? Stupid Republic types.” I sensed Jorgan and Elara stiffening at that. “Why don’t you just leave, before you break a nail?”

 

I sighed – the problem with these types is that they never understood perspective, only the pathological need to follow their boss’ orders to the letter, mistakenly thinking that that somehow made them more valuable, or even more capable.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” I was also afraid that we’d already wasted too much time. Where ever Markus Thul was, I suspected he was being mistreated, possibly eve tortured. Depending on how angry Pallos Organa was, perhaps he was even dead. We needed to end things now, before that became any more likely. “I’m going to need to take you and your men into custody and remove the Thuls from yours.”

 

“Ha.” There wasn’t any mirth evident in his voice, though. “You have no authority here, Republic dog.”

 

I straightened slightly and almost wished being a soldier didn’t mandate wearing a helmet so I could have given Elara a knowing glance as I started. “If that’s how you want to play things, fine. Captain Cormac?”

 

The big man snapped to attention. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

 

“You and your men are to take these soldiers into custody; feel free to detain them in the cells behind you..” I paused, as a deathly silence filled the room. “Sergeant Dorne, you and Forex will escort the Thuls back to the spaceport and ensure they safely arrive at the Republic post there. Inform Captain Ingvar that he can expect an update from me shortly.”

 

“Understood, Sir!”

 

Elara made a move toward the cells, but found herself blocked by the Organa thugs. Chuckles simply laughed at the scene.

 

“You’ve got no authority here, you stupid piece of ****. We’re not part of your damn Republic any more, we’re independent Your ‘orders’ are meaningless.”

 

I drew my pistol, but left it hanging by my side. “You are mistaken. While it is true that the Republic has no official jurisdiction on Alderaan at the moment, I have jurisdiction over you..” The Organa men looked more confused than anything else. “You see, by engaging in a military operation with Havoc Squad you became an auxiliary force under the Treaty of Onderon. Alderaan, while no longer a member of the Republic, is a signatory of that treaty, isn’t it?”

 

Chuckles responded to my cheerfully offered question with brooding silence. I made a show of pretending to look up the answer.

 

“In fact, it is! Given that is the case, let me see if my memory holds up…Section 4, addendum 3(b) notes that ‘auxiliary forces shall be considered within the operational jurisdiction of their affiliated partners with regards to conduct directed at appropriately identified prisoners.’.” I let my slight smirk grow into a ****-eating grin. “As it happens, Markus Thul and his family are appropriately identified prisoners, and – as such – your conduct falls within my purview as the highest ranking Republic officer on the scene.”

 

The rest of the squad were ready for action, but it was pretty clear none of the Organas was.

 

“Captain Cormac?” I reduced my voice back to its normal self. The captain nodded. “You will disarm these soldiers and detain them here until such time that a properly constituted board of inquiry can be convened. Sergeant Dorne and Forex will assist in the process.”

 

One of Chuckles’ men looked about ready to do something stupid.

 

“If you are given any trouble, you are authorized to use any appropriate measures to ensure the completion of your task. Up to and including deadly force.” I let the implications of that sink in. “You will also place the two Thuls into protective custody until I return, at which point they will be transferred to Republic hands along with…where is Markus Thul?” I grimaced slightly as I stumbled over my own words.

 

“He took them upstairs, Lieutenant. Third floor, personal quarters.”

 

I nodded. “You have your orders, Captain.”

 

I watched impassively as the last flickers of resistance died after Cormac began his work. Chuckles was one of the last to be cuffed and prodded into the cells, but even he looked shell shocked. I suddenly realized why people found Elara so intimidating – much harder to fight against something you didn’t understand or know how to deal with, and men like Chuckles knew nothing of legalities and treaties. He’s a brute, nothing more.

 

Once I was comfortable things were under control, I tapped Jorgan on the shoulder, and we both took off for Pallos Organa’s quarters at a dead sprint. I didn’t really give a damn if it violated protocols or if having drawn weapons might frighten some of our precious Organa allies. I was not going to let some scummy noble do anything to someone under my protection.

 

He had three guards outside his door, one on either side and the third standing right out front. The latter stepped forward as we approached, with his hand out in front of him. I didn’t have time for that, so I shoved him aside and brushed off the other two. Judging from their only half-hearted attempt to stop us, it seemed like even they were having misgivings about what their boss was up to. Judging from the muffled sounds I heard through the closed double doors in the suite, it should have been more than misgivings.

 

I slammed the door open with a sharp kick of my right leg and found Pallos Organa leaning menacingly over Markus Thul, who was strapped into a chair that had all kinds of nasty-looking attachments on it. Thul had a bad cut above his right eye, which was also so swollen that it was nearly shut, and the rest of him didn’t look much better.

 

No.

 

I launched myself at Organa, who only had time to turn halfway in my direction before I slammed into him with everything I had. His audible “oof” was like music to my ears, as was the noise of all of the air going out of him as he crashed into the floor. I freed my right arm and slammed an armored fist into his face twice, then picked his upper body up by gripping either side of his shirt’s collar.

 

“How does it feel?” It was a rhetorical question, and not one I wasted time waiting for an answer to. I hit him again. “Won’t risk your noble *** out there in the field with the people fighting and dying for you, but you’ll creep down to the prison so you can abuse a prisoner and intimidate his family?”

 

“What do you know about it?” He sneered at me through the blood and wincing. “Do you even know who you are dealing with? I am Pallos Thessius Or-“

 

I hit him again.

 

“Or how about you shut up right about now?”

 

I didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, I got back to my feet and pulled him up by his collar, ripping the expensive fabric slightly. Not like I gave a damn about that, though. It looked like I’d probably knocked out a couple of teeth, and any spirit he had left in him. Good. I want him a little humble.

 

“Thul needs some medical aid. We should probably have Dorne come up here,” Jorgan noted.

 

“Negative.” Thul wouldn’t be safe here. Neither would his wife or daughter. “We need to get him out of here and to the spaceport under Republic guard. His family, too. Just…be gentle.” I grimaced – Forex was more likely to be gentle than the angriest Cathar in the galaxy.

 

We got even more strange looks heading back down to the detention center, especially from the people that recognized Pallos Organa, but Cormac had been thinking ahead and sent some reinforcements. They didn’t look all that pleased with what we were up to, either, but the captain seemed to have a good handle on his troops, and we managed the trip without running into any trouble. Thul didn’t look very good, though, and Elara hurried over to him when she saw us arriving. I slid over to Cormac.

 

“Captain, I’m taking the Thuls back to the spaceport. It’s not safe for them here, and I need to be able to guarantee their safety. I need you to hold station here until I can get a squad up here from the ‘volunteers’ the Republic sent.”

 

He didn’t look okay, so I clasped his shoulder. “Cormac, I know you’re an Organa man, but I also know you want to do this the right way. You’re not alone. I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

 

After a moment, Cormac shook his head and seemed to snap out of it. He looked me directly in the eyes, and I could see the steel beneath the uncertainty as his jaw set in place. “You can count on me, Lieutenant. We’ll hold the fort down.”

 

Cormac had a couple of his people lead us out through a secondary exit, to avoid any potential trouble with other Organa troops that might be more loyal to Pallos than the principles the duke claimed to be fighting for. Not that I could blame him for that – not after what he’d done, but it was a lot easier for a man to stand for something than to get an entire population behind it. Everyone has their own agenda and biases and goals and when you throw them in with a group of people just like them…

 

I took a deep breath and sighed in relief as we turned the corner of the palace and found the small shuttlecraft Cormac had arranged for us. Nothing fancy, but we needed a safe ride out of dodge, not anything that would draw attention. Markus Thul, supported by Jorgan, got on first, followed by his wife and daughter. Dorne followed after shooting me a look that meant nothing to me coming from behind a helmet, and I jumped on last. Forex was too large for the light craft’s passenger compartment, but it was able to attach itself to the hull magnetically; Valyn Thul had apparently convinced it was a good idea.

 

The Thuls looked pretty shaken up as we flew west to the spaceport, but intact. Mostly, at least – Markus was banged up pretty badly even with Elara’s intervention, and Altana looked almost as bad just from the worrying. Almost reminded me of my own family, only from the opposite side of things, politically. For a moment, I wondered how Valyn was holding up, but after I glanced in her direction and saw her excitedly yelling questions at the pilot, I realized it was another time when discretion was the better part of valor.

 

She’ll be all right. Whatever else she is, she’s tougher than she looks.

 

I tried not to think about how much she reminded me of Ally.

 

We touched down a few minutes later, with Elara and Jorgan helping the elder Thuls off the craft and leading them to the medical center. Forex disengaged from the shuttle and made some comment about locating Imperial infiltrators; it wasn’t until after it was too far gone that I realized the precarious situation I had left myself in.

 

“Lieutenant Martell?” She wasn’t her usual, ebullient, self. Poor girl must have been scared as hell after what those thugs did. “I…um…was wondering if I…um…could ask a question.”

 

I gave her a quick smile, hoping to settle her nerves a bit. “Of course, Miss Thul. What can I do for you?” I removed my helmet and leaned against the shuttle, hoping to further put her at ease.

 

“Why did you do it?”

 

“Why did I do what?” I frowned slightly, wondering what she meant.

 

“You imprisoned your own allies and threatened an important noble from House Organa, all to protect my parents and me.” Her eyes were narrower than usual, and lacked the flash of excitement that usually partnered with her excessive volubility.

 

Ally was always getting into trouble – exploring places she shouldn’t be in, saying things she should have kept to herself, always being exactly where you least wanted her to be when it mattered the most.

 

I shrugged slightly. “It was the right thing to do I guess. Your family was under my protection, in my custody. That means I owed it to you.” I picked my words like a kid picks at their meal – trying to find the bits that were just right.

“Well, I can say we are all very appreciative of your efforts. It is far better treatment than we would expect someone to offer their enemy.”

 

Ally never met someone she couldn’t befriend, not even if they tried to avoid it.

 

“You aren't my enemy, Valyn. The people in the Empire that want to destroy everything the Republic stands for and the Sith, those are the kind of people that are my enemy. You’re just a girl trying to grow up as normally as you can on this rock. Must be hard as hell with all the crazy nobles running around.” I gave her another smile. “Hell, if you can find it in you to like that droid of mine, I’m sure you’re destined to do other amazing things.”

 

The girl twisted at the waist to look outside of the spaceport for a moment, scrunching her face up. “Do you think it’ll ever be over? Not just here on Alderaan, I mean, but the fighting in the galaxy.”

 

She was twelve when they hit Ithaca. Young enough to be innocent, old enough to dream of her future. Far too young to die.

 

“It comes and goes. Ain’t never going to get rid of people fighting over some planet or another, especially with the karking Sith around.” She flinched at the curse, causing me to blush somewhat. “Sorry. My manners aren’t quite what they used to be.” I grinned sheepishly and pulled myself back together a bit. “I learned a while ago not to dream about ending wars. It’s not about anything like that, it’s about finding something in your life worth fighting for.”

 

“That is something mum says, too. It’s why I like to learn about so many things. Have you found something? To fight for, I mean.” She gave me a nervous look.

 

I flinched again at the memories. “I had a family. I hope like hell to have one again. Until I do, helping out overly curious girls like you will have to do.”

 

She looked at me with guileless brown eyes, sad somehow, even if the rest of her face betrayed no emotion. “I’m sorry. It was rather foolish of me to bring up your family. I’m so terribly clumsy about such things.”

 

So was Ally.

 

“It’s alright. You remind me of them, anyway. Of my sister I mean.” I looked down at the ground.

 

She suddenly leaped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a firm hug, whispering something about being sorry again into my armor. When she pulled away, she gave a shy smile. “I would have liked to have a brother like you. We could have had so much fun with mum.”

 

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t avoid smiling at her. For an overly talkative Imperial-aligned noble, she wasn’t so bad. I decided to play along, messing up her hair with a couple of playful sweeps of my hand. “You better go check on your parents, they’ll be worried about you. Especially if they find out you’re spending time with the likes of me.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t quite say that – mum may be a worrier, but -.” She cut herself off, displaying a level of self-awareness I was almost proud of. “I better go then.”

 

I smiled slightly as she left, before my thoughts returned to the situation at hand. Gearbox was still out there, doing whatever it was he’d agreed to do, and now I’d possibly lost the support of House Organa because I wanted to do the right thing.

 

What was it Garza had said, again? We make the unpleasant choices so that no one else has to?

 

I wondered if this might have been one of the times an unpleasant choice needed to be made – protecting the Thuls had been the right thing to do, but I wasn’t sure it had been the correct one given why we were here. Even if the duke was sympathetic to our side of the story, he was going to be facing a lot of angry members of his own house because of what I’d done. We’d be lucky if he helped out at all with the final strike.

 

Maker save me if I’ve ruined Organa-Republic relations.

 

I heard Jorgan’s footsteps before he even came into view.

 

“Sir, Captain Ingvar’s people are almost ready to head out.” He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “And General Garza’s asking after you. Has Duke Organa on comm.” Jorgan bared his teeth in a pained grimace.

 

“I really ****ed things up, didn’t I?” The Cather remained silent. “But I had to stop them. I couldn’t let them do to the Thuls what the Imps did to my family. No alliance is worth that to me.”

 

“You made your call,” he began, cryptically. “It’s the one I would have made, though. Thul’s been cooperative, the Organa troops haven’t done much. And we had to bail them out. Seems to me you were only asking them to respect your authority, too.”

 

“Maybe. Won’t do us a damn bit of good of the Organas decide to take it out on the Republic though.”

 

Jorgan shook his head. “You’ll be fine, Sir.”

 

“And if I’m not? I don’t exactly have that many career opportunities if this soldiering thing doesn’t work out. “ I frowned. “And I ain’t got anything to fight for other than the Republic.”

 

“There’s your sister,” he noted. “If what that MacTyre guy said was true.”

 

I grimaced at that and gave him an awkward shrug as I made my way to the command center.

 

As I got out of range, I heard him call out after me. “Besides, if you survived me for this long, I’m sure you can survive this.” It sounded like he was holding back a laugh.

 

I glanced back at him over my shoulder and was presented with the terrifying sight of a fangs-bared Cathar smile. I returned the favor with a smirk and marched away, passing the med center as I did. When I glanced inside, Elara happened to be looking straight at me. She offered a warm smile as a flush spread across her cheeks and mine.

 

Feeling strangely reinvigorated, I strode toward my impending doom, whistling a tune from Ithaca.

Edited by Lesaberisa
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  • 2 weeks later...

The ops officer had Garza and the duke already on display as I entered the command center, neither one looking all that happy. The foolishly optimistic part of me hoped that their ire might be directed at someone other than me, but that was the kind of prayer that would have gotten me laughed out of Temple as a kid. Not that it mattered much, anyway. I’d known that working with someone like Markus Thul might be problematic from the start – what good was it to wring my hands over the consequences now? The man deserved to be tried for his actions, but he did not deserve to be beaten and humiliated while his family was forced to watch and was threatened as well.

 

I faced Garza’s hologram and came to a full stop, drawing myself up and snapping to attention. “Lieutenant Ayrs Martell, reporting in per orders, Sir.” Normally I wasn’t much for following protocol so strictly, but it was good for catching my breath.

 

“Yes, Lieutenant, we have a good deal to talk about.” Her brow furrowed slightly, but I didn’t see her trademark frown – possibly a good sign, but not one I wanted to put too much stock into just yet. “The duke was just filling me in on his understanding of the events that took place this afternoon and evening.”

 

I swiveled slightly and gave the duke a small nod of respect. It looked like most of his wounds – largely superficial to begin with – had healed, but he shared Garza’s troubled expression.

 

“I’m glad to see you in one piece, Duke Organa. You had us worried there for a moment or two.”

Organa surprised me with a rakish smile. “It seems I had little to worry about with you and your squad here to support us. Would that I could say the same for my own soldiers.”

 

Huh?

 

“Agreed,” Garza was saying. “It’s not entirely surprising that there would be problems with any kind of deal made with a Thul prisoner, let alone one accused of attempted assassination, though.”

 

I felt like they were speaking gibberish – hadn’t they called this meeting so they could berate me for my actions and try to salvage what was left of the Republic-Organa relationship?

 

“True.” The duke rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That doesn’t make what happened any more palatable.” He paused and looked in my direction, as if suddenly remembering I was there. “Perhaps we should hear the lieutenant’s report first, though.”

 

“Yes, I agree.” Garza peered down her nose at me.

 

“Understood, Sir.” I straightened up again. “At approximately 1530 local time, we completed our planned op to disable the power generator Markus Thul had identified as being responsible for powering Gearbox’s operation for the Imperials. During the return trip, both Havoc and the auxiliary forces provided by House Organa…sorry, by Pallos Organa...were informed of a developing situation with the duke.” I nodded in the man’s direction. “We redirected to assist Organa forces in rescuing the duke, but…”

 

“Pallos’ forces returned to the palace instead,” Organa finished. “

 

“Yes, exactly.” I swallowed hard, hoping the gulping of saliva wasn’t as loud as it sounded to me. “After we rescued the duke from Thul custody, I had our transport return us to the palace. When we landed, I received an interrupted distress call from Valyn Thul, the daughter of Markus Thul; that report was corroborated by Captain Cormac from the security forces. Upon arriving at the scene, I determined that the Organa forces reporting to Pallos Organa were in the middle of attacking Markus Thul and intimidating his family. Per the Treaty of Onderon, I had Captain Cormac detain them and removed the Thuls from the palace grounds for their own safety.”

 

“I see.” Garza’s voice was such that I could not tell what she was thinking.

 

“In my opinion, Lieutenant Martell acted well within his rights, both as a Republic soldier and a Special Forces squad commander. I deeply regret the actions of both Pallos and his mean, and I intend to see them punished appropriately.”

 

 

“You do?” I grimaced as I realized I'd spoken the question instead of just thinking it, a mistake that led to a sharp look from Garza.

 

“I appreciate all of your efforts, Duke Organa. In the meantime, I will coordinate with Lieutenant Martell to ensure the situation is defused as quickly and harmlessly as is possible. Rest assured, I do not wish to see the Organa-Republic relationship damaged in any way.” I’d never heard the general speak so…politically…before. “Is there anything either of us can do in addition to that?”

 

“No, no.” The duke shook his head vigorously. “I suggest we reassess the situation tomorrow sometimes.”

 

“Agreed. Good night, gentlemen.” Garza nodded sharply in my direction, so I snapped off another salute and waited for their holograms to disappear. Only, it was just the due that went away, and I suddenly found myself staring at a now-furious Garza.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you’ve caused, Lieutenant Martell? The kind of **** you’ve stepped into?” Her face was alarmingly red for a blue and white holo. “I thought I made myself clear about the importance of the relationship between House Organa and the Republic, but apparently you decided to ignore it completely.”

 

“No Sir.” I knew I needed to tread carefully, but damned if I was going to roll over without a fight. “I brought the plan of using Markus Thul’s intelligence to you, and you agreed that that idea had merit. Any actions I undertook tonight were merely in furtherance of that agreed-upon course of action.”

 

“You threatened a key member of House Organa! You also alienated several key units of Organa commandos, which are now no longer available for joint operations, at least for the time being.”

 

I grimaced at that – I didn’t give a **** about Pallos Organa, but his house’s soldiers were good at their job, and their absence would likely be noticed sooner rather than later. I only hoped that it would not prove fatal. “I didn’t realize that, Sir.”

 

“Of course you didn’t.” Garza planted her hands balled up and at her hips. “I thought I made it clear that military objectives are of paramount importance when making command decisions. In fact, I believe I’ve made that clear on several occasions.”

 

“You have, Sir. And, if I am not mistaken, I believe I replied that I would be unwilling to ignore moral and ethical imperatives to do so, each time. If the Organas are so sensitive about having their nose rubbed in their mess, then maybe they should reconsider getting into the whole prisoner and civilian abuse game. Maker knows that the Empire does enough work there.” She was giving me the kind of look that Ris or Ariel or – Maker save me- Mom would have when I did something wrong. “If you are uncomfortable with that being the case going forward, I have previously offered to be reassigned and will continue to do so. I am who I am. I can’t be anyone else. Sir.”

 

Some part of me flashed back to the blown up building on Nar Shaddaa, but I pushed that thought aside.

 

“You do remind me so much of your mother sometimes,” Garza mused, her voice suddenly sad even as her lips formed a small smile. “You certainly cause a lot more trouble than she ever did, though.”

 

I coughed nervously and hoped there wasn’t a blush creeping across my suddenly red-hot face.

 

“Very well. I will work with Duke Organa to rectify the…consequences of your decisions. In the meantime, I trust you have news to report on Gearbox?”

 

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded, more relieved than anything else. “After blowing the power facility, we traced the energy signature of his bunker to the mountains east of the royal palace, which is currently being occupied by Bouris Ulgo, if the Organas’ intelligence is correct. I was going to launch a quick strike against Gearbox after our initial mission, but things got hairy with the Duke and we lost our window of opportunity. I’m currently re-evaluating the situation, as I have to assume Gearbox has either reinforced his position or is in the process of doing so.”

 

“Agreed.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I believe I can get you additional troops – Captain Cormac has proven reliable, and I believe there are some additional resources on the planet I can speak to. Have your squad get a good night’s sleep, Lieutenant. I will contact you in seven hours time.”

 

I glanced down at my chronometer to gauge when that would be, then nodded. “Understood, Sir. We’ll be ready.”

She nodded in return, then signed off too quickly for me to salute. Then again, Garza had never struck me as the kind of officer that gave much of a damn about formalities like that. Worked fine for me, since I didn’t give a damn either.

 

I retraced my steps out of the command center and turn toward the med center. Inside, I found Elara quietly reading a data pad while sneaking peeks at the Thuls every few moments. For a second or two, I thought about surprising her from behind, but I realized that would probably end with her breaking my nose. Or stabbing me with one of those needles. I shuddered as I peered at the syringes.

 

“El-Sergeant Dorne.” I corrected myself mid-sentence as I noticed the Thuls glancing over in my direction. “Just spoke with General Garza, and we’ll be briefed in seven hours or so. Best get some rack time so we’re all ready to go.”

 

She nodded briskly, and I took the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat over to where I’d left Jorgan – I figured the key to avoiding putting my foot in my mouth was to limit my opportunities to do so. The Cathar was right where I expected, though he wore a strangely pensive look on his face as he looked into the night sky. The stars were alive, though some were the drives of various ships coming and going on their various missions and routines.

 

“Finished talking to General Garza,” I interrupted mildly. “Don’t want to break up your séance, but our briefing’s in a little less than seven hours, so you’ll probably want to grab some sleep.”

 

“On it, sir.” As I started to turn to leave, he spoke up again. “Ever wonder about where you’re headed, Lieutenant?”

“Ayrs.” I waved away the formality. “What do you mean?”

 

Jorgan gestured at the sky above us. “My people have suffered greatly over the years, and sometimes I wonder if they have a place in the Republic. If I do, even.”

 

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, not quite sure how serious his concern was. “The Cathar always have a place in the Republic, Jorgan. That’s what makes the Republic what it is, and what makes the Empire what it isn’t. And as for you…” I let my voice trail off ominously to screw with him. “Don’t care if you’re a Cathar or a Bothan or even a Hutt. If you fight well and you don’t violate the principles we’re fighting for, I don’t give a damn about who or what you are.”

 

He grunted.

 

“Hell, look at our squad. Perpetual ****up Ayrs Martell, boldly commanding the ever-proper Imperial defector, the perpetually grouchy Cathar and the overly patriotic war droid. If that isn’t proof of Republic inclusiveness, I don’t know what is.”

 

“True enough.” I heard Jorgan chuckle slightly at the mental image his mind must have conjured up. “I’ll go find a bunk somewhere. See you in the morning, sir.”

 

I took a moment to take in the night sky myself. It wasn’t the same as it’d been back on Ithaca…with Ariel…but the twinkling stars reminded me of a time where it didn’t feel like I had a ten ton weight on my chest and when family meant something more than a painful memory. The moment passed. What was done was done, and there were too many people out there counting on me to dwell on the past. Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I found a spare bunk in the command center and drifted off to pleasantly uneventful sleep.

 

I woke up six hours later, leaving me my usual window to get ready. It was a stupid habit that my friends had always made fun of back home, but I liked to be a step ahead when I could – it made me feel like I was a leg up on whatever was about to come. The water in the fresher was cold as hell, but it did the job of waking me up real fast. Will save the mess hall some of its caf supply, at least. As I exited the room, I nearly ran directly into Elara, who was already armored up and ready to go, sans the helmet she cradled under her left arm.

 

“El-Sergeant. Uh, good morning. Wasn’t expecting you to be up already.”

 

She gave me a curious look, and something flashed in her eyes. “I discovered your habit of getting up earlier than necessary, Sir, and felt it was a good idea. However, I felt that I could be even more efficient than you are.” I felt my mouth open and close, but nothing came out. “I will see you at the briefing, Sir.”

 

I tried to ignore the gaping from a couple of the spaceport workers that had seen the limited exchanging. Was Elara developing a playful sense of humor? If so, I was in for even more trouble than I could ever have imagined.

Breakfast was a lot like Jorgan – cold, bitter and hair all over – but it filled me up well enough for the day ahead. I pushed away from the table and, for what felt like the millionth time, walked toward the command center’s briefing room. In contrast to the scene from last night’s meeting, it felt surprisingly light and cheery in the room. I nodded my head in greeting to Captain Cormac and was just shifting my attention to the familiar brunette next to him when –

 

“Ayrs! I mean, Lieutenant Martell.” Amitia swept me into a brief and – thanks to our armor – uncomfortable hug. Her eyes twinkled a bit as she spoke again. “If I’d known we’d have to help you out again, I’d have charged more for my help.”

 

“If I’d known we needed Jedi help to get this mission done, I’d have found a safer line of work,” I replied weakly, before offering Kira a small smile. She didn’t reply immediately, instead rolling her eyes at her partner, before smiling in return. “You both know Sergeants Dorne and Jorgan from Taris. And this is…our wardroid, M1-4X. If you have any propaganda needs, Forex is the droid for you.”

 

Amitia eyed the droid suspiciously, but Garza’s hologram suddenly appeared and killed off our repartee.

 

“Lieutenant Martell, I’m glad to see everyone is assembled. I will be brief, as time is of the essence.” I nodded to indicate understanding. “The Jedi have their own business on Alderaan, but they have generously offered their services for the mission. They will provide direct support for your squad as it engages Gearbox and eliminates the threat he poses. Captain Cormac and his soldiers have been provided courtesy of Duke Organa, and will provide cover for the entire operation, intercepting any reinforcements before they can present a problem.”

 

“Seems pretty simple.” Too simple. “Do we have any intel on what Gearbox might have in there, Sir?”

 

“I’ll let Captain Cormac speak to that.”

 

The burly man stepped forward, hands clasped in front of his stomach. “Our sources within House Thul report a garrison of approximately fifty Thul soldiers, plus a pair of medium APCs. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to give us much on what Gearbox might have as part of his personal force. Maybe we’ll get lucky in that regard.

 

I frowned – as the saying went, an absence of evidence was not evidence of absence. Assuming that Gearbox wouldn’t have anything more up his sleeve was the kind of thinking that would get us all killed if and when he did have a surprise saved up. Then again, it’s easy to say that when you aren’t facing a mission that has to be completed. We have to stop whatever it is Gearbox has planned.

 

“That’s not ideal, but we can make do, General. We’ll head out immediately.”

 

“Good luck, Lieutenant.”

 

We exchanged perfunctory salutes, and her image faded away. I turned to Cormac.

 

“I am guessing I won’t like the answer, but how many troops did the duke send with you?”

 

He grimaced. “Twelve. Good soldiers, though. We’ll do the job.”

 

Thirteen Organa soldiers, the four of us and two Jedi against an entrenched force at least three times our size, which might also have one or more surprises waiting for us inside the actual facility. Terrific. Nothing to be done about it now, though – not when these were the kinds of missions that Havoc had been formed for. It wasn’t like I could ask another squad to go die in our place.

 

“We lift off in ten, be sure you’re ready.”

 

Everyone slowly filed out of the room, though I noticed that Jorgan made a point of waiting so he could follow the two Jedi out. I smiled slightly, since I didn’t imagine either of them as the fangs and fur type. That bounty hunter back on Nar Shaddaa, though… My smile grew into a fierce grin, and I felt better about the mission ahead because of it, stupid as that was.

 

Once I was confident I was in the clear, I dropped to a knee and quickly recited a prayer to the Maker, one my mother had taught me about seeking aid before battle. It wasn’t something I was entirely comfortable with – my faith had never been as well-defined as hers had been – but it felt reassuring nonetheless. I repeated it for each of my squad members, and then for those that had joined us. In the end, it might not mean a damn thing, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt, either.

 

Everyone was there waiting for me when I made my way to the departure area. We were using two Republic-issue hover-carriers, repainted to Organa’s colors. Two big Celestial-class ones, too. Cormac and his squad took one, while the two Jedi clambered on board ours. The ships were obviously built for larger deployments, but I wasn’t going to complain about having extra space, to say nothing of thicker armor and more robust defenses.

 

The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon to the east – a good omen, if I’d been inclined to believe in those sorts of things, of course. If our timing was right, we’d hit the Thul forces right before they woke up, leaving them particularly vulnerable to a surprise attack. If not…well, I didn’t really want to have to worry about that. We had enough to deal with as it was.

 

It was still mostly dark as we came into range of the area Gearbox was based out of. Scanners showed large concentrations of armed forces and machines throughout the valley as we approached, causing the pilots to nervously hover hands over the instruments that would allow them to begin evasive maneuvers. Maybe we were flying over friendlies, maybe they were enemies asleep on the job, or maybe we were just lucky, but we didn’t take even a single shot during the approach. Or maybe the Maker really is watching over you.

 

A sobering thought, but not one that was appropriate for a combat situation.

 

Cormac’s squad dropped first, surprising the lone Thul soldier on watch at our landing zone. The Organa forces fanned out in a standard formation, quickly sweeping the entire platform and ensuring it was clear of any further resistance. Amitia and Kira followed them, and then Forex and the rest of my squad. Once everyone was in position, I jumped down after them, landing with an unfortunate screech as my boots skidded for a moment on the pad.

 

The specs for the place that Cormac had given us ended up being spot on, and we eliminated the small amount of organized resistance the Thuls put up in the external portion of the base. Things progressed smoothly until we encountered a squad of defenders hunched behind an overturned table they were using as a barricade, flanked on either side by one of their anti-personnel turrets. They pinned us down for a couple of minutes, but then one of Cormac’s people tossed a jury-rigged EMP into their midst. The Thuls were just a bunch of corpses with two smoking shells where the turrets had been soon after.

 

We split up when we hit the inner complex. Cormac and his people established a perimeter there, to form a choke point against any of the garrison that tried to make their way to the central command area where whatever Gearbox was working on would be. After a moment’s reflection, I left the two Jedi with them – not that I didn’t want to have their sabers with us, but they’d do a lot more good helping out Cormac and his people. Everything was just about in order when the holoterminal in the middle of the room lit up.

 

Gearbox.

 

“Hey, kid! Good to see you again.” I felt my mouth tighten as he glanced at the rest of my squad. “There’s the grumpy Cathar liaison officer, Jovin? Jordan?”

 

“Jorgan,” he replied through clenched teeth.

 

“Whatever.” Gearbox paid Forex no real attention, instead zeroing in on the two Jedi for a moment, before ending at Elara. “And who do we have here? Looks like Havoc Squad has picked up some fine new candidates.”

 

“Any squad would be improved by you leaving,” I replied coldly. I’d liked Gearbox when I’d met him back on Ord Mantell. At least, I thought I had – now it seemed like everything might have been just an act to sucker me in. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to surrender to save yourself and your troops unnecessary bloodshed?”

 

He laughed heartily. “Always knew you had a sense of humor. You’re almost as funny as me, kid. Why don’t you and your squad come visit me in the control center? We can…talk…more there.”

 

Kolos’ image faded away before any of us could say anything; the only sound we were left with was that of Jorgan’s teeth grinding some more. Cormac spoke first.

 

“Sounds like he has something nasty planned for you, Lieutenant. Are you sure you don’t want any of my soldiers? Or the Jedi?”

 

I shook my head. “No, you’ll be hit by everything else he has – Gearbox wants us to make the mistake of assuming otherwise. My guess is he’s got one of his crazy gadgets waiting for us, something to keep us occupied while his troops overwhelm everyone else. We’ll handle it.”

 

We exchanged nods. Then the four of us turned to the northern corridor and began making our way to Gearbox…and whatever he had waiting for us. There were no Thul soldiers waiting for us, which was strange. Even more so when we heard blaster fire ringing out from behind us and Cormac’s voice reporting heavy fighting over the comm. Everything on our end was a suspicious calm, the kind that always seems to come about right before something crazy happens.

 

The command center was empty as we entered, and the large door on the far side of the room was slammed shut, with an ominously blinking light on either side of it. I ignored the door for the moment, and focused on the panel ahead of us instead. Another light was blinking there, indicating an incoming message. I motioned at the squad, letting them know to take up position on either side of the room, then strode forward to see what Gearbox had to say.

 

“Hey kid, good to see you again.” His voice was tinged with the usual amusement, but there was a darker undertone to it. “I wish you’d brought more of your friends with you, but your squad will have to do.”

I got no chance to respond. Instead, I heard a roar as the large door suddenly slammed open.

 

Kark me.

 

I wasn’t quite sure what it was other than a really big robot, big enough that I guessed that Gearbox had to be inside. I didn’t recognize the model – maybe it was a special design – but that didn’t really matter; what mattered was figuring a way to take it out.

 

“Forex, create a distraction for us. Jorgan, right flank. Dorne, keep us all covered. I’ve got left.”

 

Their acknowledgements rang out over the comm, then there was no more time for talking. The droid focused its fire on Forex, like I had known it would – Gearbox likely hadn’t been briefed on what it could do, so he was scrambling. Forex sprayed fire from both of its cannons at the larger machine, then did some sort of gymnastics-like maneuver to draw Gearbox’s attention away from the rest of us. It was an amateur mistake to make. And a fatal one.

 

Jorgan and I both locked onto the hydraulics of the battle droid’s back right ‘leg’, with a pulse from the Cathar’s assault cannon frying the circuitry and throwing the entire monstrosity off balance. Too late, Gearbox seemed to realize his mistake of focusing on Forex, and he shifted his machine back in the squad’s direction. It did so ponderously, and not before a round from my rifle disintegrated the lower portion of the back left leg. The machine fell forward as gracefully as an off-balance Hutt, toppling forward so only one of its turrets could be brought to bear. It tracked my movement with staccato bursts of fire, but a grenade from Forex and another round from Jorgan’s cannon silenced it.

 

Smoke was billowing out from just about everywhere on Gearbox’s creation, so we approached it carefully. Losing someone to its death throes would be a pretty poor way to wrap up the mission, and I couldn’t be sure that Gearbox wouldn’t do something stupid to avoid capture. He had to know what to expect if he was returned to Republic custody.

 

After a minute had passed, a hatch at the top of the machine popped open and Gearbox’ large frame rolled out. He was cut above his right eye, but it seemed to be one of those wounds that looked worse than it actually was. He seemed somehow smaller than when I had first met him back on Ord Mantell – perhaps the time spent with the Empire’s rot was more than moral.

 

“Heh. Might have taken you a full squad, but I guess you managed to take my new toy out.” He tried to grin, but ended up grimacing from the pain. “Afraid I can’t just let you walk out of here.”

 

I laughed. “Don’t think that’s up to you, Kolos. Only question is whether you’re making it out of here alive or dead. I’m fine with either.” I kept my rifle leveled directly at him, as he eyed me closely.

 

“Really, just like that? Haven’t I earned a fair fight?”

 

“Traitorous filth like Tavus and the rest of you aren’t owed anything,” Jorgan interjected.

 

I put my hand out. “It’s fine. I’ll even let him take the first blow in.”

 

“Really?” Jorgan and Gearbox replied at the same time, then shared a look. I simply waved the latter toward me.

 

He obliged, swaggering forward with a confidence that seemed wholly unwarranted. Once he’d gotten closer, he balled his hands into fists and strode forward with a purpose. He got into range and swung one of those fists at the vulnerable spot where my helmet met my armor. I caught his blow with an outstretched arm, then hit him in the stomach with a punch of my own. The air went out of him with a loud whoof, and he fell to his knees, gasping.

 

“You-you said I’d get the first blow.”

 

“I lied.” I smirked at Elara, who didn’t seem too impressed or amused, mostly because my expression was hard to see under a helmet. “Uh, Jorgan. Forex. Take him into custody.”

 

“Kark that!”

 

Gearbox was already moving for a blaster on the ground, but never made it; Jorgan’s cannon cut him down several paces away. Gearbox’ corpse twitched a few times, then was still, leaving us in a room that was suddenly eerily quiet.

 

“Damn it, we could have used him for more intel.” I scowled slightly, before catching myself. “Thanks for the save, Jorgan.”

 

“No problem, chief.”

 

I took a breath and glanced at Gearbox’ corpse. I could understand why he’d decided to go down fighting, but I still was no closer to understanding why he and the others had defected in the first place, not really at least.

 

It was no time for navel-gazing, though. Jorgan moved toward the corridor we’d entered from, recognizing that we needed to reconnect with Cormac and assess the situation. I noted that Elara had already pulled the data from Gearbox’s system, which meant it was time for all of us to go.

 

“Havoc, roll out.” Once they’d all acknowledged the message, I swapped channels to the private one Cormac had set up for us. “Captain Cormac? We’ve neutralized Gearbox and are heading your way. What’s the situation on your end?”

 

“All clear, Lieutenant. We convinced the Thul soldiers that they didn’t need to die for your traitor, so they’re locked in their quarters for the time being. We’re ready to withdraw when you are.” Cormac either laughed or coughed – I couldn’t quite tell. “Then we’ll send our Thul friends the code to get out of their barracks.”

 

I chuckled. “Roger that. We’ll be right there.”

 

“You know what this means, Sir?” Jorgan’s voice rang out over the squad channel.

 

“Garza will be happy with us?” I wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at.

 

“Drinks at the cantina.” He slapped me on the back. “And you’re paying.”

Edited by Lesaberisa
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  • 2 weeks later...

The cantina by the Republic camp wasn’t much to write home about, but it wasn’t like we needed anything fancy, and everyone from Garza and the duke on down had agreed it wouldn’t be a good idea to show my face again at the palace any time soon. Fine by me, anyway, since I hated the damn place – much better to spend my recreational time where I belonged, with the closest thing I had to friends on this miserable planet. Well, except for one.

 

Elara had politely declined my – our – invitation to come, saying she preferred a quiet night on the ship to unwind from our mission to drinking. I’d tried to change her mind, but after a bit I’d realized a stupid bout of alcoholism wasn’t worth harassing her over, so I’d let her off easy. After flashing me another of her smiles, she’d wandered off with Forex, presumably discussing the most efficient ways to annoy me with protocols or debates on the rights of droids in the Republic.

 

I had more important things to worry about, like why Amitia’s mug of Lomin ale appeared slightly fuller than mine. I peered at her over the foam from my own drink, casually ensuring neither Kira nor Jorgan were watching me too closely from their sides of the table. After a few moments of careful reconnaissance work, I realized that Amitia had indeed taken the fullest mug for herself.

 

Most unlike a Jedi. For shame.

 

“How long are you guys on Alderaan for,” the miscreant was saying. Had it not been for my keen observational skills, her crime might have even gone unnoticed.

 

“That’s classified!” I took a gulp from my mug before slamming it back down loudly, drawing a couple of annoyed looks from the surrounding patrons. “Besides, what does a Jedi need to know about military dispositions?”

 

“I think he’s onto you, boss,” Kira whispered surreptitiously, covering her mouth with her hand. “He’s a smart one.”

 

“Let’s not go too far. Keep pumping up the kid’s ego and he won’t be able to fit his head through the doorway on the way out.” Jorgan’s voice was so loud and irritating. It was like he was yelling for some reason. I made an irritated waving gesture at him, but he didn’t seem to take the hint. “Everyone knows I’m the clever one in Havoc, anyway.”

 

I elbowed him sharply in the ribs and enjoyed the audible oof I got in response. “In all seriousness, we’re only going to be on Alderaan until we get assigned somewhere else.”

 

“So you’re here until you’re not here?” Amitia’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I can see why you’re considered the elite of Special Forces.”

 

Jorgan snickered slightly, but said nothing, leaving me to defend the honor of Havoc Squad. “I’m afraid we can’t share operational details with anyone outside of the chain of command, not even with the up-and-coming superstars of the Jedi Order.” I gave my Cathar compatriot a glance out of the side of my eye. “I’m sure Jorgan would love to share all sorts of things with you, though.”

 

Amitia snorted loudly, then laughed at Jorgan’s obvious discomfort. “I’m sure he would. A shame we can’t bring you along on our mission, though – it’s something right up your alley.”

 

“And you’re much better company than Master Din,” Kira added, earning herself a playful slap on the head from her partner. “Where’s the rest of your squad, though?”

 

“Forex would probably just start harassing the other customers about their true loyalties or something. And Elara…” Elara decided to spare me the embarrassment of stammering my way through the evening. “Uh, Elara was busy taking care of some paperwork or something. She’s always covering for us that way.”

 

The two Jedi exchanged a look and then sly smiles that I liked about as much as an Imperial blaster rifle pointed at my head. I cursed my own clumsiness, since I didn’t even have her presence to justify it, then gulped down some more ale to try to cover for the faux pas. I suddenly felt like I was a kid again, stuttering my way through telling Ariel how I felt about her so I could ask her to attend the Winter Festival Dance with me. Just as stupid now as I was then. Kark.

 

“You know, I’m not even sure Jedi are supposed to be seen carousing with Republic soldiers,” Amitia said loudly, another twinkle in her eye. “We’re supposed to be defending the galaxy from louts, not drinking with them.”

 

“Referring to the lieutenant as a lout is an insult to louts everywhere,” Jorgan commented sourly. I slapped him on the back of his head.

 

“Agreed,” Amitia replied, nodding a bit too happily for my taste. “Seems to me he could prove us wrong, though…if he buys the next round or two.”

 

I glanced around the table, but there wasn’t any use in fighting a battle that I’d already lost, so I shrugged and handed over my cred card. Amitia’s hand swallowed it whole, and I watched in despair as she slid the card into the payment slot on the table – another few dozen creds down the drain.

 

“You’re wrong about that, though, Amitia. Ain’t nothing wrong with a Jedi carousing with anyone, let alone a trooper.” I spoke before my brain realized what I was saying, and I regretted every one of my words as they slipped out from between my lips.

 

“Really? How would you know that, hot shot?” Kira teasingly elbowed me in the ribs, which didn’t feel as bad as it normally would have with several beers already in me.

 

“My dad spent plenty of time carousing with my mom, didn’t seem to affect him much.” I felt my cheeks warm slightly, though I hoped that was just the alcohol. “Other than the whole leaving the Order to start a family thing, I guess.”

 

“Your father was a Jedi?” Amitia leaned in closer, the universal sign of someone expecting you to keep talking even when that was the last thing in the galaxy you wanted to do.

Should have kept your damn mouth shut. You’re always talking your way into trouble.

 

“Yeah, during the war.” Immediately after I finished the sentence, I recognized the looks of expectation on their faces, and knew I’d have to say more. “My parents met on Balmorra and a romance for the ages bloomed. He left the Order later on, though, so they probably deleted him from the archives and what not.”

 

Amitia wrinkled her nose as she smiled. “So why’re you slumming it with Jorgan instead of with us.”

 

“The Force is weak with this one,” I said with an exaggerated grimace. “Besides, where’s the fun in waving around a laser sword when you can hit people in the face with a rifle butt.” I winked at the two Jedi and arched an eyebrow at Jorgan. “Or blow them away with the most over-the-top phallic symbol this side of a Harrower.

 

They laughed, while the Cathar merely glowered at over the rim of his mug.

 

“Sounds like you have your priorities straight, Lieutenant.” Kira leaned over to tap in a request for another round. “How’s the hunt for the Havoc traitors going?”

 

“Almost got them,” I replied with a grim but satisfied smile. “I wish they’d made better decisions but…at the end of the day they chose wrong. I’m hoping we can capture Tavus, though, find out more about why he did it.” I sighed.

“And what he’s told the Imps. And about the other troops followed Havoc over. We could be vulnerable in a number of areas.”

 

“Sounds like the Empire’s getting prepared for another war,” Amitia noted.

 

I nodded. “And soon. The Brentaal Star. Imperials infiltrating Coruscant and setting up backroom deals with the Justicars, stealing or otherwise ‘appropriating’ Republic assets, even messing around in Alderaanian politics. At the very least, they’re trying to stir things up, but subtlety isn’t exact in the Imperial playbook. My guess is we’re heading for another big one. Maker help us if we’re not ready.”

 

The two Jedi exchanged another look, more worried this time.

 

“The Sith are up to something too,” Amitia said with a soft voice. “They were on Coruscant and…they’re involved in more than a few other things too. Master Din is concerned about what their next move will be. I can’t blame him.”

 

“Well at least you’ve got an easy job if anything gets started.” I winked and laughed at their confused reaction. I pointed to their sabers. “Stick ‘em with the pointy end.”

 

This time Jorgan hit me on the back of the head. “Behave yourself, Lieutenant.” He turned to face our companions.

 

“Believe me, ladies, this is actually Martell at his most charming.”

 

I felt a sudden warmth in my cheeks and proffered a weak smile that provoked furious giggling. “Maybe you’ll see me in the next ‘Patriots of the Republic’ calendar.”

 

Amitia laughed, “I’ll keep an eye out. Maybe two.”

 

“For now, though…” Kira began before trailing off.

 

“…We need to get going,” Amitia finished. “Master Din is supposed to report back to us soon, and we might need to be in good enough condition to act.” She elbowed me sharply in the ribs. “Unlike some people.”

 

“I think she’s talking about you, Lieutenant.” Jorgan was always so insightful.

 

I rose from my seat, trying to keep things diplomatic even in the face of the Cathar’s rudeness. “If you need any help, feel free to give us a call on our comm channel. Can’t guarantee that we’ll be able to get clearance from Garza, but I can see what we can do.”

 

Amitia smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around me in a firm hug. “You take care of yourself, Ayrs. It’s too much fun doing your work for you guys.”

 

“It’s always nice to have such great friends,” I replied with a smirk. She replied with a wink, then released me from her vice-like grip and made her way over to Jorgan. Kira stepped into her place and hugged me too, though she was kind enough to allow me to breathe while doing so.

 

As they left, I heard Jorgan sigh softly.

 

“There goes the closest thing to a love life you’ve had in months, Jorgan.” I purchased the next pair of drinks to show I meant no offense.

 

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back sharply. I grimaced – accurate insults tended to be the worst. Luckily I was more trying to avoid any thoughts of romance than I Was trying to attempt one, but damned if I was going to let the Cathar in on that. “Course, maybe there’s a reason for that.”

 

I stared off into space, trying my best to act natural until the drinks came. I hadn’t told him anything – I wasn’t stupid, after all – but I also knew I wasn’t the most subtle guy around, either. Not like he hasn’t been ribbing you about it since you met her on Taris, anyway.

 

Our awkward silence was interrupted by the loud sound of someone slapping both of us on the back at the same time. I rotated in my seat to see Cormac, who looked none the worse for wear. Somehow, that sight was more reassuring than I would have imagined, given how much trouble I had assumed he would be in.

 

“Captain, come join us.” I waved him toward the empty seats our Jedi friends had vacated. “Pick your poison, it’s on Jorgan.”

 

The Aldaraanian gave us both an odd look, as if deciding if we were laying some kind of trap for him, then shrugged and took the seat across from me, at Jorgan’s elbow. “Call me Balic, please, we’re all off duty.”

“Ayrs, then.” I hated people calling me by my rank when we were off duty, too.

 

Cormac and I turned in unison to face Jorgan, who was sipping his drink – a ping, foamy, concoction – out of a straw. “What?”

 

“Ignore him,” I advised the captain as he input his order “Hope you aren’t in too much trouble over the various stunts we’ve pulled here over the past few days.”

 

“If you are, feel free to blame him,” Jorgan added with a snide smile.

 

“Nothing like that. When the Duke straightened everything out, they cleared me of any kind of review. He even said I might be up for a promotion.” Cormac paused for a moment as his drink arrived. “Pallos was never all that popular with the general population, just his circle of cronies and some of the hard-liners.”

 

“No trouble for the Republic then?” I knew Garza would have my back, regardless, but I didn’t want to be responsible for karking up an important alliance. Especially not one I had been explicitly ordered to maintain and strengthen.

 

“Can’t say that for sure.” He shrugged and took a lengthy drink from his mug. “But I doubt you’ll have too many problems. As much as these nobles like to act like they’re big and scary, they know the Republic’s help will be necessary for winning the war. Heard they’re even bringing in some Jedi to help mediate after you helped put us in a better position.”

 

“No kidding? Maybe they’ll give us a medal for this, then.”

 

Cormac simply laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. For what it’s worth, it was an honor to work with some of the Republic’s best.”

 

“And Jorgan, don’t forget him.”

 

The Alderaanian laughed again as Jorgan shot daggers across from me. We clinked our mugs together, then drank heartily . Cormac and I did, at least.. Jorgan’s drink required careful management of his straw. Not for the first time, I wondered what the hell he had ordered, but something made me suspect I was better off knowing.

 

Cormac had only been at the table for about thirty minutes before I noticed his head dipping and speech slurring Damned lightweights, all of them. I realized that duties at a nobleman’s police probably precluded the type of recreational drinking soldiers might enjoy, but it still caught me by surprise. Course, he probably hasn’t spent years trying to drink away bad memories and feelings, either. As it happened, Cormac was an avid fan of huttball, though, which made for good conversation while also boring Jorgan enough to order something with a little more kick.

 

It was about thirty minutes, or maybe two hours, later that I felt my comm buzzing against my arm. I gave the other two men a small hand gesture to let them know I had a call to take, then slid off the seat and carefully made my way into a quieter, more secluded, area. Everything seemed to be moving at an odd pace; even my own gait was oddly sluggish, but I hadn’t had all that much to drink, so I wasn’t sure why.

 

“Hello?” I must have been too loud, because I drew a couple of looks from a maintenance crew passing by.

 

“Sir? It's El-Sergeant Dorne. I was just calling to ensure you and Sergeant Jorgan were all right. It is rather late.” I glanced at my chrono and realized she was right.

 

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s great here, we’re all fine.” I stumbled over my words – alcohol only exacerbating my usual problems around her. “How are you?” I winced.

 

“I am…fine, sir.” I couldn’t quite tell if she was amused or still worried. Possibly both. “Perhaps I should leave you two to your…recreation.” This time there was a definite hint of amusement.

 

“Uh, yeah. Thanks! We’ll be back soon. Soon-ish. Not too long. I’m hanging up now.” I cursed and disconnected, slapping myself a couple of times in the face. So karking stupid. Get a grip. I did just that, holding onto a railing to guide me back into the cantina.

 

When I returned to our table, I noticed Cormac was already slumped over it, snoring as loudly as mom had.

 

“What-what a lightweight,” Jorgan sneered shakily; he looked barely better off than our Alderaanian friend. “Haven’t seen someone fall apart like that since this Imperial the Deadeyes and I tracked down on Vrthlak.”

 

“Vrthlak,” I repeated stupidly. “Tell you what, Jorgan. You’re not so bad once you get totally drunk. I think I even like you.” I leaned in closer and whispered, “Don’t let anyone know alright?”

 

“You’re not too bad yourself. For a green kid with a big attitude, that is. You could have done worse.”

 

Coming from Jorgan, that was unusually high praise – clearly, the alcohol was affecting him more than he realized. I grinned evilly and finished my drink; Jorgan had already ordered our next round. Good man, that one, at least in a cantina. As we waited, I noticed a familiar sight in the doorway. A decidedly unpleasant sight at that.

 

“Oh Master, it is good to see you.” The Maker-damned droid tottered over to our table, inspiring more than a few dirty looks from the remaining patrons at the bar and even dirtier ones from me and Jorgan. “I was sent here to ascertain if you required any assistance.”

 

“Elara sent you, didn’t she?” I scowled at the monstrosity, though I was more annoyed than mad. I’d told Elara that everything was fine but obviously she hadn’t believed me. Why wouldn’t she believe me though. You’ve had a few drinks, sure, but it’s not like you’re having any issues. “I said everything was under control, C2-N2. Go back to the ship, your thrice-damned bucket of bolts.” I hiccupped as I laughed at my own joke.

 

“Sergeant Dorne informed me you might attempt such a response to my presence and assured me that I had her full support in maintaining proper decorum.”

 

I spat out the beer in my mouth as it spoke. “We’re in a..a cantina for kark’s sake. What’s the harm in poor decorum here?”

 

“You also failed to respond to several of Sergeant Dorne’s communications following the disconnection of your previous call.”

 

Huh? I glanced down at my comm and noticed I’d missed several messages from Elara and a couple more from Cormac. Wasn’t quite sure how that had happened, but it was hardly the first time I’d had communication issues with something. Nothing another ale won’t take care of, anyway.

 

Jorgan wasn’t looking very good after that round, though, and looked even worse the round after it. He slumped down onto the table, and looked unable to get up. It also sounded like he was humming what sounded suspiciously like something from Kitty Lovin and the Playmates. I wasn’t usually one to judge, but I decided to file it away for later use. Assuming you even remember it

 

I turned back to my one remaining companion, perhaps the last one I could have ever expected to be spending time with at a cantina. Something made me want to talk to it, though. Maybe it was Jorgan’s humming, maybe it was the alcohol flowing freely through me, or maybe I just knew the droid would be the one to talk to, but it didn’t really matter. Now was the time.

 

“Tell me, droid, what do you think of Elara?”

 

“I am not sure that is an appropriate question to ask me, Master. I loyally serve each and every member of Havoc Squad.”

 

I tried to narrow my eyes at the droid, but that just made my head hurt, so I moved on. “Have you ever wanted to say something, C2? Something important?” I gazed into its metallic eyes, but got no response. “Like it’s important, but since it’s important you don’t want to say something because if you say it wrong it will be horrible, so you don’t say anything at all? Because you need to say it to someone that’s important to you and it’s important to you that they know they’re important to you and what you’re saying to them is important too?”

 

“I-I am sorry, master, I-“

 

Realizing that C2-N2 was not designed for such weighty thoughts, I waved away the droid’s comments. “Never mind that, you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“But master, -“

 

“It’s Sergeant Dorne, C2. Elara, I mean. Pretty name like that should be said, not hidden behind a title.” I took another sip of ale. “I think she’s great. Really great, really. She’s got a great smile, she’s always there for you when you need her, rock solid, strong sense of ethics, one of the best soldiers I’ve ever met. Probably one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

 

“Sergeant Dorne is quite agreeable –“

 

“That’s not all though,” I continued. “Great body, good hygiene, excellent grammar and a great smile. Total package.” I let out a sharp, appreciative whistle.

 

“Perhaps you should return to the ship, Mast-“

 

“Too bad I’m afraid to tell her, right?” I arched an eyebrow at the robot, which was proving to be a rather poor listener and conversational partner. “Always too afraid, about her….about everything.” I sloshed some more ale around in my mouth as I pondered how best to continue. “I was the big brother of the family, had to be the dad too a bit after…after Dad didn’t come home. Got used to being responsible for people, got used to thinking I was good at it, too.”

 

“You have been a most excellent commander of –“

 

I leaned forward, hunched over the table. “Then I ran off to the academy. Left them all behind, left them all to die.” My mouth was suddenly filled with an acrid bitterness no amount of ale would wash away. “I let them all down, every one of them. Been disappointing people all my life, even karking Uncle Demetrius back on Kuat. Damned lucky I haven’t screwed over Havoc Squad so far.”

 

“Master, I –“

 

“I mean, I’m doing better now. I know better, I know I can do better too. But it doesn’t mean I ain’t scared. What if something happened to her, you know?” I took a gulp from Jorgan’s mug; wasn’t like he was going to miss it. “Bad enough if she isn’t interested, but what if she is and I let her down, too. Don’t know if I could take it.”

“If I might – “

 

“I wish I could, though. I mean, stars, when she looks at me and her eyes are shining and bright and full of life…and her smile could blind me if I wasn’t more careful. Maker save me.” I decided to take two swigs this time. “I think she’d like me, though. I mean I like me. Do you like me?”

 

The droid eyed me, but said nothing.

 

“Well, I’m sure you do. You’re programmed to, at least.” I playfully slapped C2 on its back, but it remained silent. “I mean I’m a nice guy, most of the time and except for Jorgan. And Pallos Organa. And a few other guys, I guess, but mainly I’m nice. And I’m a good soldier, got most of my teeth, plus I’m funny. I think Elara would like a funny guy, and I’m pretty funny. My mom always laughed at all of my jokes, so I must have been doing something right. Maybe that’s a sign. Maybe I should say something.”

 

I felt the adrenaline kicking back in, so I decided to make my move. Ignoring C2-N2’s protests, pushed myself up and away from the table and began to walk toward the door. Everything seemed a little blurry, but I figured I could make it back to the ship okay anyway. For a second, I wondered how Jorgan was going to make his own trip back, but I figured C2 could figure it out. That’s what protocol droids were around for, after all.

 

I’d struggled forward for a good five minutes and managed several feet of progress when I felt the ground below me shaking. Confused, I checked the people around me, but had a hard time doing so when the room was shaking and spinning. Alderaan wasn’t supposed to have groundquakes…

 

My head was pounding when I woke up and came to my senses. I felt nauseous as hell, but also a hell of a lot better than I had when my face had had a close encounter with the cantina floor. I blinked a few times and took a couple of deep breaths. It was only after that I realized that I wasn’t alone in the room, and a few seconds after that realized that I figured out where I actually was, and who was with me.

 

“Elara. Um, Sergeant Dorne. I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.” I grimaced as I rolled onto my side and then forced myself into a sitting position. “I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand like that.”

 

“I would hope not, Sir.” She had that damnable mixture of amusement and concern in her voice again. “It would require a great deal of paperwork and bureaucratic wrangling if you were to be responsible for an incident while intoxicated.”

 

“And we wouldn’t want that,” I shot back teasingly.

 

“I would agree completely, Sir.” she replied with a small smile. “If I might ask, how much alcohol did you consume last night? Both Captain Cormac and Sergeant Jorgan were found severely intoxicated and yet you were apparently able to keep going.”

 

“Uh, too much, I guess. Ow!” I cried out as she jabbed my arm with a needle. When she offered no sympathy, I glowered at her.

 

Elara wrinkled her nose at me. “If you stopped acting like a baby, perhaps things wouldn’t be so difficult.” Our eyes met, and for a moment I sensed a hint of fear in hers. She probably saw the same in mine. “Sir. Quite so difficult, Sir.” Her cheeks flushed a bright red as she hurried away to mess around with some of her equipment on the far side of the room.

 

“Uh, I’m sorry for any trouble I caused. And the missed messages. And any projectile vomiting that may have occurred, of course.” I grimaced at the last one. She glanced back over in my direction, and I couldn’t help but notice how startlingly beautiful she was. It left me tongue-tied, which was just as well, since I’d have probably said something stupid.

 

“I was simply concerned for your well-being, Ayrs. Sir.” She quickly turned back toward her tools.

 

I suddenly felt way out of my depth in a way I hadn’t for…a long time, years at least. I carefully slipped off the bed and winced as my bare feet landed on the cold floor of the med bay. “Uh, Elara, I...” She turned back to me with her eyes open and almost expectant. You what?

 

“Master, you have a priority message from –“ The karking protocol droid made it that far before realizing he was interrupting. “From General Garza. She requests you reply when you are fully recovered.”

 

Kark me.

 

The droid was gone as quickly as it had arrived. So was the moment.

 

“I’m sorry if I made you worry, El-Sergeant. I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again, and I’ll be sure Jorgan understands too.” The room was feeling a bit warmer, which I took as my cue to leave. Garza was waiting, anyway. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to your work. Just want you to know how much I appreciate you.” The room was now blazing hot. “How much I appreciate what you do for the squad. Carry on, Dorne.”

 

She seemed about to say something as I turned and left. Probably for the best that she didn’t – I was already going to have enough problems dealing with Garza.

 

Maker save me.

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I just love when Ayrs and Jorgan get drunk.....guaranteed good times!!!

 

Jorgan wasn’t looking very good after that round, though, and looked even worse the round after it. He slumped down onto the table, and looked unable to get up. It also sounded like he was humming what sounded suspiciously like something from Kitty Lovin and the Playmates. I wasn’t usually one to judge, but I decided to file it away for later use. Assuming you even remember it

The picture I have in my head is priceless! Also, SQUEE.......I recognize that band name! :D Edited by alaurin
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