You can find the planning thread for this story here.

"…Of course I’ll be fine, grandma. I’ve visited there before, without you and grandpa whenever I get a chance.
 Remember, the Guardians are patrolling it. That incident with the pirate raid two months ago was quickly squelched and nothing more became of it.
It’ll be alright.
Besides, if you and grandpa aren’t going to make it this year, then who is going to send out your prayers?
….
Oh grandma, I got to go now…times almost up.
I’ll transmit again when I get there….
May the Star of Alderaan, shine upon you always." Marina bade farewell in time, before closing the channel, as the navigation comp had approached final countdown. Her ship had made final angle adjustment, and was down to…3..2..1..
In a blink of an eye, the Mariner IV accelerated from sub light speed into hyperspace as the hyper drive engine kicked it forward.

Marina sat back for a brief moment, watching the streaks of starlight which had suddenly come to a burst ahead of her. The streaking stars seemingly looked like a tunnel of light which her ship was speeding through. It was certainly mesmerizing. At least upon initiation and a few seconds following, that is.…after that…well-
She reached over on her console and activated the auto shade switch. This sent an electron rich current through the cockpit's glass, darkening it. It was an option she thanked the gods for many times over already, that she had enough sense to install it on her ship. Marina never lost her fascination of watching the star fields streak during a jump. It was always a sight to see. But after a short while, it gave her a headache if she kept looking at it. And millions of stars streaking by, sure made it hard not to notice their brilliance. For Marina, it was jut too bright to take, for any extended period of time.
The crystal infused glass darkened to her desired shade, making the tunnel of starlight loose its brightness and intensity, as well as its hypnotic and headache inducing effect on her. It wasn’t so bad now, as her ships controls and displays were once again the main source of lighting in the cockpit.

It was only a two day's jump standard time to her destination, from the system where she had jumped from. She had delivered her load of cargo, as per contract, and could now take the opportunity to take a week or two off before heading back to her grandparent’s, new family estate on Duro.  But already Marina’s heart had been drumming her old beat of anxiety, for the past few days… racing, sometimes even difficult for her to breathe. It was always the same, this shortness of breath she got, as the days counted down to her visit there.
And it seemed to always do that, no matter how often she visited it.
Marina opened her eyes, and for a moment hadn't realized she had closed them. She then got up from her pilot's chair and exited the cockpit. The nav comp would have the job of keeping the Mariner on course. Besides, she had nothing really to do in here for the next two days. It wasn’t like she could even dare deviate from the calculated projection her ship was following through hyperspace. Any minute fractional change or deviance from its angle plane, and before she would know she messed up, she would be atomized, crashing into a large mass like a planet…moon…asteroid… or even a star, at this speed.

"Well, might as well start putting the pod together…" she spoke out loud.
 Sometimes doing that when she was traveling alone. Sort of a way to keep herself company. And she had been out here and on her own again, away from her grandparents for a few weeks already…doing a few transfers and delivery in the same sector she had just jumped from.
But the real reason was that she believed her parents and loved ones were always there in spirit with her…always.
Marina dearly missed her mom and father…her sisters…brother…her mother's parents…everyone.

The door to her quarters slid open and the items she were to put in the pod still lay upon her berth. She picked up the small crystal organic sphere. It were crystal clear with what looked like a tiny blue burst deep within. It was  small enough where she could just close her hand around it. It had been grown/nurtured by her grandmother, and as thus; held her thoughts…her prayers. It had the unique capability to absorb starlight and convert carbon based gases as it grew to mature into a diamond like sphere to which it then went into state of dormancy. That is, until parts of it were shattered and then the shards would repeat the cycle. But during it‘s growth stage, it also absorbed thoughts. It took years for the crystal to grow into this mature state from a shard. It often was held close to the body, near the heart when meditating. Normally placed or held fast in wood and worn as a necklace in it’s early stage. Later as it grew, it could be kept in a sort of open cradle setting, made of gold or other precious metal, and also worn as a necklace. It basically needed sunlight, gases present from a living world and emotions which seemed to accelerate its growth. It had been discovered  that it had the capability of storing a person’s thoughts during long exposure to that person. Not in a way that it could actually record thoughts.  But in a strange way capture their mood and unique nuances of those thoughts. One could then hold the mature and hardened crystal years later, and feel those thoughts..those moods which the crystal absorbed. It were even possible at times to distinguish to whom those thoughts were to, if the person who had grown the crystal was known to the one feeling it.. And prayers from the heart had their own unique signatures. Marina could tell whom these thoughts of prayer were to. She had learned to know..distinguish  which of her eternal family her grandmothers thoughts and prayers were for…

She held the sphere close to her chest and felt those heartwarm feelings and prayers of her grandmother. They were to her mother..her father..sisters, brother..everyone marina and her grandmother held fast in their hearts. Marina found it hard to put the crystal down once she connected to it. But she did, as it was her grandmother's gift to all whom they loved. Marina bade the crystal fare journey and finally walked over to the open pod on her dresser and carefully laid it in. She then took her time to gather the other precious items and also put them into the pod which she was going to launch when she arrived at the field. These were gifts she was loading…the crystal, images permanently etched of her and her grandparents, and locks of hair…her hair and her grandparents hair…all personal items in their lives.

Marina finally closed the pod and picked it up, holding it close to her as she exited her cabin to set it in the launch tube.
Oh…the so many long years which had passed since she seen her parents, sisters, brother and everyone in her family, including her beloved world. A world which remained in her heart..in memory only. Memories which warmed her heart and shone like diamonds…and memories of their destruction which was like rust, eating at her very being.
Her beloved world had been destroyed when she was but 10 years of age. It now orbited the same Star that once warmed her skin on a summer day, atop Mt. Setril,  her home in a billion countless pieces.
Marina was going to visit the graveyard… She was en route to the Alderaan system…
The graveyard of Alderaan… an asteroid field now, of what used to be Alderraan, orbiting the same star…

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

“Please fasten your safety restraint, Miss Sellitna.  Captain Eldrette will be making the jump into hyperspace in a few minutes.”  
<br/>
Mahri’s attention shifted reluctantly to the young attendant at whom she stared stupidly for a short moment before her brain caught up with her eyes.  “Oh, of course.”  She made short work of strapping in before resuming her work on the portable console.  Senator Arama may have insisted that she make this pilgrimage and he may have even facilitated the journey by lending her the use of a small diplomatic transport, but he never made any mention of not bringing work with her.  She was the Special Advisor of Foreign Affairs after all.  It was frequently her notes and observations that aided the Senator in his dealings with other political offices.  In fact, just that morning a news feed had graced her desk a few hours before it would be sent to GNN about a Rights protest on a world in a system that neighbors New Alderaan.  Surely the Senator didn’t expect her to – the console started softly beeping an alert that she had a new message.
<br/>
A few quick taps and the handsome face of Senator Arama resolved on her screen.  “Speak of the Sith,” she murmured at the recording.
<br/>
“Mahri, just a reminder, you’re on this trip to take a well earned break.  Put work aside for a few days and try to relax.”
<br/>
“What-how?” she spoke at the screen despite the fact that she knew it could neither hear her nor respond.
<br/>
“I saw your login timestamp in our network after I put you on the <i>Chianar</i> .  Relax and have a pleasant trip.”  The Senator smiled his gently weathered smile and disappeared.
<br/>
Begrudgingly, and in spite of the knowledge that she could continue working in hyperspace without a soul on Coruscant knowing, Mahri shut down the console and leaned back in her seat.  Barely a breath later and she felt herself being gently pushed back against her seat.  She could imagine the blurred streaks of light around the ship as the rocketed away from the Galactic Capitol, barreling for the rocky, tattered remains of her homeworld.
<br/>
A few moments after their successful jump, the attendant returned to the passenger cabin of the small, upscale ship.  Her too-wide smile gave Mahri pause, as if the young woman were hiding something behind a cheerful façade.  “Is there anything that I might get for you, Miss Sellitna?  Perhaps a beverage or something to nibble on?”
<br/>
Mahri shook her head, “No, I think I would just like to rest quietly until we arrive.  How long did you say it would take to get to the Gra- to get there?”
<br/>
“About 16 hours, ma’am.  Would you like a blanket, or I could make up some quarters for you?”  
<br/>
“No, really, I’ll be fine right here.  I don’t expect to be falling asleep.”  Mahri wished she had a window she could look out, but she knew that the placement of the passenger cabin in the center of the ship had been a strategic, if not somewhat paranoid, design intention.  Instead she would have to satisfy herself with reading a cheap mystery holonovel she downloaded from the ‘net the night before.  It had been so long since she’d had time for pleasure reading that Mahri had taken about an hour to find one that seemed to stand out from the rest.  Of course, during that hour she had also been corresponding with a few others of the diplomatic offices, clearing her message box before the trip.
<br/>
Settling more comfortably into her seat, Mahri drew a deep breath, rummaged for a moment for a datapad and opened the file to her novel.  She breezed through the first few pages before her eyes began to grow heavy and before she even thought to shut down the datapad she had drifted to sleep.
<br/>
The image she had built of the novel’s protagonist danced in her head, flaunting his scholarly ways at her, beckoning her to fall deeper into the dream.  He was tall, middle aged and oddly handsome in a way that reminded her of one of her university professors, as if the beauty of his brain was seeping out of every pore and drawing her in even though at face value the man was quirky, but plain.  Taking his hand, she was surprised at the strength and trust he engendered, and so she let him lead her through a haze of swirling imagery.  Nothing resolved into single clarity for what felt like an eternity until the man turned back and smiled at her, revealing an antiquated library filled with books made of leather and flimsy and muted light that bathed them both in a shower of glittering dust and awe.  The man opened his mouth to speak and Mahri held her breath, “Miss Sellitna, we’ve arrived.  Miss Sellitna?”
<br/>
Mahri frowned at the incongruity between the man’s face and his very light and airy and very feminine voice.  What an odd thing to say to her, we’ve arrived.  Arrived where?  She drew a sudden breath and woke up, realizing that she was being gently shaken by the attendant.  “Hmm?”
<br/>
“Miss  Sellitna, we’ve Returned.  The Captain has asked if you would like to join him aft for the launch.”
<br/>
  “Of course, thank you.  Please tell him I’ll be there shortly.”  Mahri began unstrapping herself from the safety restraints, faintly aware of the odd, dry feeling in her mouth that usually accompanied an impromptu nap in an odd location.  She was very familiar with that practice from her time with Senator Shirka.  Before standing Mahri fished in her bag for a mirror and was appalled to see her lipstick had been smudged across her chin and her hair had flattened out on the one side.  With a dissatisfied sigh she made quick work of fixing herself before moving to the aft compartment where the tube with her offering to the lost world and family was waiting.
<br/>
Captain Eldrette, a fellow Alderaanian in the employ of the diplomatic offices of New Alderaan, was waiting patiently.  He was roughly ten years Mahri’s senior, but young enough at heart that he often felt closer to the Aide’s age.  He heard her delicate footsteps growing louder on the metal decking and straightened subconsciously.  He’d met Mahri almost a year ago and no matter how many times he saw her, she never failed to take his breath away.  His light eyes met her dark and he offered a slight but friendly smile, “Miss Sellitna, we’re ready when you are.”
<br/>
Mahri nodded and took what she understood to be her place at the launch controls.  Inside the small tube sat a few datachips with personal letters to her family, some small trinkets of sentimental value, and a vial of seawater she had paid a pretty price for on the understanding that it was genuine ocean water from before the destruction.  She had her doubts, but it was more about the symbol of the thing than the authenticity.  “I know I’m supposed to deliver a grand speech in which I offer an eloquent and philosophical thought to accompany the mementos in this gift, but I’m afraid that anything I can say, anything I can offer would pale in comparison to the remorse of an entire world.”  She glanced to the Captain and with his permissive nod, she pressed the keys that sent the small tube into the Graveyard.   Something about this whole experience was anticlimactic, as if she was still dreaming and her imagination wasn’t strong enough to encompass the enormity of the situation.
<br/>
Captain Eldrette broke the silence first, “Miss Sellitna, would you like to join me on the observation deck to watch your offering settle in the ‘Yard?”  She simply nodded and quietly followed the Captain to the lift that would take them to the level above.  The observation deck was a wide, comfortable space with a central circular couch that was surrounded by picture viewports that almost allowed an observer to feel as if they alone were floating in the vastness of space.  Mahri broke from the Captain and claimed a space at the far viewport, barely able to pick out the tiny prick of moving light that was her launch tube.  At that moment she felt truly insignificant.

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

She played with her food, not being at all hungry really at this time. Just that a two day jump all by your lonesome self, and with all ship systems functioning normal…there wasn't a whole lot to do.
Marina had awakened not too long ago from a 6 hour sleep, following her reflection of a life and innocence once lost. These trips to her parent's resting place by their home world star usually made her remember about her life she once was privileged to, on Alderaan. And that was pretty much what she had done, following the pod's prep with the gifts she placed inside. It was now in the launch tube, ready to send off once she got there.
It was an emotional time and floods of memories brought much pain and tears. She had cried herself to sleep, waking up, finding herself still fully dressed on her bed.
Getting up and doing her rounds, she checked the ship's systems and ran diagnostics…there wasn't much left to do but a little cooking in the galley… and later immerse herself in some read.
 
Marina finally pushed the plate away and picked up the hot java off the table, returning to the cockpit again.
A quick overview once again showed that all systems were operating efficiently and with no deviations outside the standard tight parameters. God…this was the hardest part of the business…crossing the great expanses, alone.
Marina plopped herself in her captain's chair and sipped her java.
The shaded cockpit glass, although had substantially blocked out the streaking starlight, she nevertheless could see it…only, it was dulled and not so blinding. One of the graphic screens to her lower right, displayed the star fields and her position along her calculated route.
Once more she closed her eyes, and slouched on her seat…carefully putting her feet up on the console, being aware not to hit any switches.
She had 30-something hours left to go in this jump…and just couldn't shake her depression…memories of her brother and sisters..mom and dad..her other grandparents…all of which was no more of her lost world. They were constantly there, haunting her. But somehow or other, it was always comforting once she got there. A sort of feeling one would get when they were home from a long journey. Always, a sort of peace would come over her and in a strange way, she would find peace along the outskirts of the graveyard, like she was home again.
As devastated as her once beautiful Alderaan had become; literally an asteroid belt, it still calmed her soul. And the built up anxiety of the past months, weeks, leading to the pilgrimage; all were set right and dissipated. Marina knew that she would feel whole again there…would feel more alive and at peace than anywhere. This visit to her home system would rejuvenate her spirits again.
But till then…her soul was restless, anticipating…wanting. She was restless!
 God, time seemed almost to stand still! This jump, although only two days distance, seemed to be taking, like, an eternity. Even the longest jump she had ever came to record at 6.4 days hadn't been this nerve wracking.
And it came to reason that Marina would somehow tie her visit to Alderaan's graveyard a short distance from one of her delivery points. Somehow this time it hadn't worked out to be the closest. On a few occasions she had managed to schedule just a few short hours jump away.
Yes, right now she had too much time on her hands, and nothing to do, but wait it out.
Sleep was most likely not going to be naturally happening again anytime soon, either. And she would never chemically induce sleep while she was flying her ship…regardless of auto pilot or not…

"Arrg!…shut it up already, Marina!.." She cried out loud.
She gave a deep sigh and then reached for the novel that she had started to read a few days ago, leaving it in the cockpit.
It was an antiquated type of book, although it was manufactured not long ago. But it was similar to many great written works that were once kept in the library observatory at her palace on Mt. Setril.
The text was permanently etched on the folds of fine parchment paper. It was not an efficient manner of storing such works, but it did give them more substance…more soul so to speak to the novel. Somehow, touching the pages, reading words that were forever part of those pages,, the smell of the book…the feel of the leather…the weight… It had body…soul. It made the words more real. Marina knew exactly where she was in her place among the pages and words. It was so easy to go back to anywhere you wished and know haw far you were. Even the words could be felt with her fingertips it seemed, as she could touch them and not be projected pixels behind polymer, like on portable screen tablets.
And so with a bit of fidgeting here and there, despite her captain's chair being ergonomically designed for her, she immersed herself in the tale of a pirate…a thief of hearts, as she enjoyed great love stories filled with adventure.
…and the hours passed quietly, as her ship streaked on across the galaxy.

* * * * *
 
The nav comp was beeping down…4…3…2…1…
The drives disengaged and the Mariner for a split second almost seemed to be travelling backwards as the star fields suddenly collapsed before her and came to a sort of standstill. The Mariner had come out of hyperspace and was just cresting sublight, slowing down exponentially to what governed the laws of normal space and speed.
She had arrived to her home system…Alderaan.
Marina sat there looking out, as she disengaged the shading on the cockpit glass. The burst of Alderaan's star filled her cockpit. And before her stretched the remnants of her once beloved world.
A tear made its way out of her glassy eyes and followed the contour of her cheek…

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

Chief of State Leia Organa Solo stood proudly among thousands of the ships officers and personnel all dressed and pressed on the flight deck of the Rebel Dream, she had just finished her speech officially appointing Qardin as commander of the new fleet group and confirming his promotion to the rank of Commodore.  She had also taken this time to wish her fellow citizens of the New Republic a happy new year.

"…..and without further ado, I give you, your new commanding officer, Commodore, Qardin Starfire."

Qardin stepped forward clad in full service dress peering out over all of the likewise uniformed fleet personnel.  Various dignitaries stood directly behind him as well.  Soldiers and troopers stood in standard military formation all bracing a crisp salute as he stepped to the podium.  Off in the distance stood a military band that drummed and thumped as he took a moment waiting for the applause to die down.

“Please at ease, I’ll try to make this brief, I for one never liked standing through a long drawn out promotion speech, and I won’t make you either.  First I’d like to thank the Chief of State, all of our loyal dignitaries, and most importantly all of you for taking the time to congratulate the New Republic on this historical day.  You know as I stand here and look out amongst all of you, it’s hard to believe we’ve made it to this point, but here we stand.  Many years ago we had a dream, we had a dream to right injustices, we had a dream to free the galaxy from tyranny and persecution, whatever it’s cost.  As I look at you now I can still see those dreams, those dreams have not vanished, they live on.  They live on through you, me, them.“  Qardin pointed towards the many dignitaries that stood behind him.  

“I see it only fitting that the first ship to roll off of the assembly lines of a dream that started long ago aptly be named the Rebel Dream.  In many ways it embodies all that we have worked for, all that we hope to achieve, and for all that we still dream of.  This is the finest ship in the galaxy and together we will take it to new heights, create new memories, new history, and more importantly, new dreams.  Well as I have promised I will keep this short, I know many of you wish to usher in the new year with your friends and families.  Again, I thank you and I look forward to serving with you all.  

As Qardin stepped back from the podium he put the crowd at ease, despite his effort they had still chosen to come to attention as tradition demanded it.  He made his way down the line of dignitaries shaking their hands and taking their congratulations in stride.  Leia was there at the end to greet him with a genuine smile and a friendly hug.

“Congratulations again, Commodore.”

“Please, we’ve known each other for far to long for such formalities Leia.  Please, walk with me.”

Qardin held out his arm offering the path he wished her to take and Leia obliged.  They walked casually making their way towards a turbo lift that would take them to Qardin’s personnel office surveying the ship as they progressed.  

“I suppose you’re right Qardin.  With all that we have been through, I’m so glad to finally see you reach the point you have.  I can not tell you enough how better off we will be.”

“That means a lot to me, especially coming from you.  I’ve always respected you and your opinions, even when we were kids.  You were always the wise political one.”

They both smiled as they arrived at the turbolift.  It was a short trip up filled mostly of memories of the past.  As they entered his office, Qardin got her seat for her like the gentleman he was, then took his seat behind his desk.  

“I’m sorry to keep you Leia but if I may trouble you for a few minutes of your time on a more personal level?”

“It’s no trouble Qardin, what can I do for you?”

“The Returning…I am requesting leave to make the trip *home* to pay my respect.  I know we have just unveiled the Rebel Dream and there is still much to do but it would mean a lot to me.  It has been on my mind for sometime and I have never been able to make the trip.”

“Absolutely, we have some down time now anyway.  How long do you need?”

“Not long, only a few days.”

“I think we can accommodate that, send the request through and I will get it back to you ASAP.”

“Thank you, it will be waiting for you, when you return to your office.”

They reminisced for a few more minutes before Leia departed.  Qardin quickly filled out the proper leave forms and had them waiting for Leia upon her return to her office.  As promised it was quickly processed and returned approved.  Once approved he quickly finished up his administrative duties involving his new position as commander and deferred all future work to his second in command.  Captain Zan Deo was a competent officer and capable of handling things in his absence.  He like Qardin had a strong sense of duty and honor.  Of course like the dedicated officer he had always been, he was there to see his commander off safely and assure him Rebel Dream would be in good hands while he was away.

“Sir, I really wish you’d allow a fighter escort with you.”

“Zan, I’ve already told you no.  It’s bad enough you and others insisted I be ushered around in this frigate instead of me piloting my own ship.”

“Well you have a fine pilot, and the ship is well armed which makes me feel a little better.  Remember Commodore, you aren‘t a free flying fighter jockey anymore.”

“I know I know but I still have the right to bitch about it.  I’d love to stand here all day and argue this out with you but I better get going.”

“Of course sir.”

Zan came to attention and saluted as Qardin made is way onto the c70 Retrofitted Consular-class frigate.  He watched the ship lift off and tracked it in the sky until it disappeared from sight.  As they were getting underway Qardin couldn’t help himself and made his way up to the cockpit.  The captain sat up, a little nervous as he sat down in the co-pilots seat.

“Commander.”

“Please at ease captain.”

“Yes sir, sir I’m sure it’d be a much more pleasant trip in the back.”

“Oh I don’t think so, all that space and just me, gets kind of lonely.  Are we ready to make the jump to hyperspace?”

“Yes sir, I’ve just finished, here we go.”

They both sat back and watched the stars stretch into parallel lines when they made the 'jump' to hyperspace.  The jump to the Alderaan system took just under 16 hours even though close to Coruscant it was a long trip due to a section of the route crossing through a part of the largely-uncharted Deep Core which was star-choked and more difficult to navigate in.  Qardin had mixed feelings, he wanted to get there but on the other hand didn’t want to.  The last time he had been in the Alderaan system he witnessed first hand the destruction of his home planet.  Just when he managed to quell his uneasiness about the situation the ship emerged back to real space and the graveyard lay before them in plain sight.  Qardin was flooded with emotions instantly.

“Thank you captain.  Forgive me but I must excuse myself to make some preparations.”

“Of course Commodore.”

He made his way down to the diplomatic salon pod and gathered up his personal gifts and prepared them for the launch into space.  For his father, a holovid detailing the Rebel Alliances victory over the Empire.  He knew his father would have loved to experience that first hand and would love to read about it now.  For his mother a grass painting by the infamous Ob Khaddar, she had always loved his work.  He sealed the tube, said a quick prayer, then closed the hatch and closed his eyes as he heard the SWOOSH of the tube being fired into space.  "I love you."  He composed himself before returning to the cockpit.

“Thank you for being patient.  Give me a few more minutes then we can make the jump back to Coruscant.”

“As you wish sir.  Sir, I am picking up an unarmed diplomatic shuttle off our port side.  It's making it's way towards us.”

“Who is it registered to?  Is it showing signs of hostility?”

“No sir, it shows to be originating from New Alderaan, it’s passenger is unlisted.”

“Send them a transmission, inform them I wish to speak with the captain.  Might as well find out what they want.”

“Yes sir.”

It was only moments later when Captain Eldrette responded.  

“Hello Commodore, my name is Captain Eldrette, of the Chianar.  My passenger is requesting your presence aboard.  She instructed me to tell you, it’s been far to long.”

“I don’t suppose you could tell me who, she is?”

“I’m sorry sir, not over open channels.”

“I thought not, fair enough, prepare your ship for docking.”

“I’m making the preparations now.”

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

After the launch Mahri had returned to the observation lounge.  The overwhelming feeling of insignificance against the enormity of space and the rubble of her home had been oddly comforting.  The dots of light of the few other visiting ships brought a sad smile to her painted lips.  They reminded her that she was not alone in this never-ending grief.  It was from her 360 degree view that Mahri noticed the arrival of another ship.  A significantly larger ship, and far more military, than the rest.
<br/>
Pressing the centrally located comm., Mahri called for the Captain.  “Captain Eldrette, what ship is it that just dropped out of hyperspace?  It looks vaguely familiar.”
<br/>
“It should, Miss Sellitna.  That’s the Sweet Surprise.  One of the New Republic’s frigates.  I have just received a transmission requesting communication.”
<br/>
“Who is her Captain?  Are they Alderaani?”  It wasn’t common for New Republic ships to be used for personal reasons.  She hadn’t ever heard of one being used for the Returning.
<br/>
“No, Miss, the Captain is not Alderaanian, but there is a registered passenger who is.  Newly promoted Commodore-“
<br/>
Mahri cut him off, “Qardin Starfire.  Of course.”  She released the comm and stepped as close to the Sweet Surprise as she could.  Despite the distance between the two ships, the frigate filled an entire panel of transparisteel.  The red painted accents on its hull shining optimistically against the dark reality of the ‘Yard.  She stood silently for a moment, remembering bits from her childhood, memories of the Starfire family.  Memories of Qardin.  She traced along many of the shapes of the Surprise with her fingers as more and more of a shared past came flooding back.  Qardin was seven years her senior and they had little in common, but their fathers were colleagues and their mothers were good friends.  
<br/>
Mahri returned to the comm and signaled for the Captain.  “Would you please send a request for Commodore Starfire to join me aboard?”
<br/>
“Of course, Miss Sellitna.  What reason should I give?”
<br/>
“Please tell the Commodore that it’s been far too long.”  She smiled more widely now, enjoying a brief moment of levity in her mysteriousness.
<br/>
-  -  -  
<br/>
Captain Eldrette waited patiently through the automatic docking cycle.  The various clicks and whirs and clangs giving way for the airlocks to balance and finally open.  On the other side stood a rigidly postured Commodore Starfire waiting just as patiently.  His steps were firm, authoritative, and the rubber of his boots sounded mutely against the metal decking.  
<br/>
Eldrette saluted crisply.  His military service may have ended shortly after the fall of the Empire, but he still held a high respect for those in service.  
<br/>
Qardin returned the gesture of respect just as precisely before adding, “Please, at ease, Captain.”
<br/>
“Of course, Commodore.  It’s good to have you aboard.  I had hoped to meet you after I heard about your promotion.  I never imagined it would be so soon after though.”  Eldrette motioned for Qardin to follow him through the richly appointed corridor.  “My passenger has requested that you join her on the observation deck.”
<br/>
“Now that we’re not over open channels, I’d like to know who requested my presence.”
<br/>
“She also asked that I leave that a surprise, Commodore.”  Eldrette could barely mask his grin at Mahri’s little intrigue.  They both knew that keeping simple information like her identity from a military man like Commodore Starfire would be something of an irritation.  After all, a man in his position was accustomed to having all his questions answered all of the time.
<br/>
“Of course she does.”  Between men, Qardin felt little need to hide the hint of sarcasm in his tone.  Eldrette’s only response was an understanding smile.  The observation deck was not far above them and the lift opened to reveal a comfortably decorated lounge surrounded on all sides by panels of transparisteel.  The light had been dimmed to allow for an unobstructed view of the Graveyard, but the mysterious passenger was seated facing the lift doors.  
<br/>
Mahri rose when she saw Qardin, a bright and welcoming smile warming her face.  “’Din, it’s been entirely too long.”  She moved toward the Commodore, her hands outstretched for his in familiarity.  Her well practiced reserve hiding the flash of surprise she felt at how Qardin had changed in the seventeen years since they last saw one another.  She had accompanied her parents to Qardin’s graduation ceremony from the military academy.  He had looked almost as striking in uniform then as he did in more casual attire now, but she spied more maturity and wisdom around his eyes.  
<br/>
Qardin was grateful for his training keeping his jaw firmly rooted in place as realization struck.  “Mahri Sellitna, I should have guessed it was you aboard.  Your father had a feeling you would end up in politics.”  In those seventeen years Mahri had changed significantly as well.  No longer was she the skinny, awkward, tom-boyish girl he had teased and played smashball with, but rather she had blossomed into a sophisticated and stunning woman.  He took her delicate hands and squeezed them tightly in his larger, rougher ones.
<br/>
“I’ll leave you two to catch up.  If you’ll excuse me,” Captain Eldrette nodded a respectful exit for himself, sure that neither had really noticed his retreat.
<br/>
The embrace of their hands lingered in a moment of silence between them as they both simply took the other in.  Mahri could feel her pulse racing and, worried that Qardin could feel it in her hands, slipped them free at last.  She motioned for him to make himself comfortable in the plush observation deck.   “Would you like something to drink, Commodore?”  Nervous at the lightness in her stomach, she reverted to the more formal title.  
<br/>
“Anything you have available would be fine, Miss Sellitna.”  Qardin drew on Mahri’s cue of the more formal address, but he was surprised at the slight disappointment he felt at being called Commodore by her.   His sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing as she retreated to the wet bar.  It was astonishing how much she had grown up.  Strategically, he chose a seat on the curved sofa that would allow him to keep watching her.
<br/>
“Congratulations on your promotion.  I would have liked to have attended the ceremony, but unfortunately other matters called me away.”  Years of being a Senator’s aide gave her the skills to make light work of preparing drinks.  She was just grateful for the chance to hide the blush warming her face.   She rejoined Qardin on the sofa, offering out a glass of wine.  With the social lubricants on hand, Mahri felt her nervousness begin to slip away allowing her to actually relax for the first time in weeks.

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

Infiltrating a military ceremony within the heart of a star destroyer isn’t as difficult as one might think. Suspend your disbelief. To begin with, in the space-lanes around Coruscant, security is a logistical nightmare, period. But the main reason being that once you’re inside, there really isn’t a lot worth sneaking in for unless the sneaker in question is really into motivational speeches and parade formations. All of the vital areas are inaccessible or heavily guarded, and it’s easy to understand why the thought that someone would want to infiltrate a military capital ship for a ceremony wouldn’t be considered by those responsible for security.

Once you’re actually inside the ship, well, that’s the easiest part. Star destroyers, especially the brand new Nebula-class, are massive vessels. Massive vessels that require a staggering number of people to operate. And that doesn’t just mean officers to command, gunners to shoot, and pilots to fly. That means techies to fix broken machines, engineers to keep the innards running, and even janitors to unclog the toilets.

When it comes down to it, if you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, you pretty much had precedence to be just about anywhere. And that was a good thing, because when infiltrating a military ceremony, it’s best not to pose as someone actually involved in it. Too many variables, too easy to get caught.

Even at an event with the Chief of State present and held on the flight deck of the about-to-be-christened Rebel Dream, it was a fairly simple process of making your way on board inconspicuously. As long as you were wearing the right clothes and unless you had a long rage blaster or thermal detonators strapped to your chest, chances would be that the security that is in place is not looking for you.

Ceremonies like these were, to the uninformed observer, surprisingly easy to attend, and there is a very good reason for that. To put it bluntly, they were boring. And not just boring in the traditional sense, but tactically boring as well. In the field of espionage, a field Michael Askrima had become intimately acquainted with over the past few years, an observer’s ability to deal with boredom is probably the most vital asset in their arsenal. Having spent the latter portion of his teenage years as a drifting spacer in the Outer Rim, Michael had this asset in staves.

Unfortunately, at the coronation speech of a starship, however massive, whatever intel available for gathering was bound to be in an abysmally short supply. Boredom was one thing, but unnecessary boredom, that was the worst kind, the kind hardest to deal with, because it usually meant you were doing something wrong. But the newly promoted Commodore, Michael’s new assignment, was here in public…sort of, and that meant so was he. Those were his orders.

Of all the crises across the galaxy threatening to destroy this New Republic, he was assigned to observe a Navy officer that may or may not have been awarded his position because of his Alderaanian noble heritage and a first name basis with Leia Organa. That Michael was himself, at least formerly, of the Alderaanian middle class, was an irony not lost on him. Maybe that was why he had been chosen, because of his experience with the culture, but Askrima couldn’t help but consider an alternate reason.

After all, there were three Rogue Squadron pilots and one wily spacer woman currently being held for charges of treason and, if they were set free, Coruscant could be facing its people rioting in the streets, but here he was, acting natural on a walkway above the flight deck proper in an orange worker’s jumpsuit listening to some Commodore drone on about the meaning of a capital ship’s name. This was Intelligence’s doing, he just knew it. Karking NRI.

As the speech wrapped up, Michael made his way back through the same section of the star destroyer that he had used to sneak in, discarding the jumpsuit for his stashed spacer’s finest (vac suit) as soon as he was clear of the populated areas and out an airlock that fell under a ‘blind spot’ in the Rebel Dream’s sensors. Normally the idea of a blind spot in a star destroyer’s interior sensors would be ludicrous. Any military vessel that can’t detect the usage of its own airlocks is suffering some pretty serious design flaws, but if that military vessel has just been constructed, it’s probably only running a skeleton crew (not to mention the drain in manpower that the ceremony had no doubt caused), making the sensors pretty hard to keep track of by whoever is around to attempt it. Often times in such circumstances, non-vital areas are routinely ignored, which meant a clean break for Askrima.

Michael’s freighter, the Axiom, was right where he had left it, and the line of wire he had attached to both the vessel and the hull nearby the airlock remained unmolested. He wasted no time in guiding himself through the cold dark of space and back to the YT-2000, which was almost entirely powered-down, and registered on sensors as nothing more than a hunk of space junk. In a New Republic shipyard, space junk can be pretty common.

This method of interstellar stealth had been something the Observer had picked up a year or so after Endor. Apparently it had worked really well against Imperial capital ships, since Imperial officers would automatically assume anything that could manage to confound their sensors and disappear from their viewport either had to be packing some serious prototype cloaking technology or had to have somehow magically disappeared completely. The idea that spacer scum had managed to outsmart them apparently never crossed their minds.

Michael found it still worked pretty well against New Republic capital ships too, which probably said something very meaningful about the perceived differences between the two militaries and the actual lack thereof, but this Observer had long understood that his opinions on such matters were worth null as far as his superiors were concerned. Only his ability to provide intelligence mattered.

Maneuvering through his freighter wasn’t easy with a vac suit, but he finally managed to make it to the cockpit and disengage the clamping mechanisms that held the ship in place. The Axiom immediately began to float away from the gigantic capital ship, and once they were a safe distance away Michael powered up the systems, including life support, and clambered out of the space suit.

His vessel’s ID tag was cleared for flying just about anywhere around Coruscant, the perks of being on a government paycheck, but Michael wasted no time in finding the nearest traffic lane and blending in amongst the thousands upon thousands of ships flying to and from the ecumenopolis. In the field of espionage, crowds were always your friend, unless they very obviously weren’t.

“Come in, Marvin,” Michael had wasted no time in opening a channel to the com station in his apartment/base of operations within Coruscant’s lower levels.

“I wonder…” almost instantly came the monotone reply.

“Oh come on, Marvin, it’s obviously me-frak!” the click of the channel going dead resonated before he could even finish his sentence. His expression spasming with anger, he rekeyed the channel in frustration, “Come in, Marvin.”

“I wonder…” repeated the voice in an identical tone, as if the previous ‘conversation’ had never happened.

“Do androids dream of electric bantha?” this time Michael wasted no time in providing the correct password, his voice grating.

“Ah, Master Askrima!” came the cheerful response, still robotic but somehow much more amiable in tone, “Good to hear from you! I trust your reconnaissance went swimmingly? Ah, I should inform you that someone breached security not moments before you called! They did not possess the proper code phrase, so naturally I severed the connection, but all the same it is worth noting.”

“Marvin, you know damn well that was me calling a minute ago!” the Observer growled, quickly losing patience, “You have got to be the most paranoid protocol droid I’ve ever known!”

“Why sir, I most certainly did not!” the droid’s voice bristled, and Michael could not help but roll his eyes, “It’s true, their vocal patterns did match yours, but there is an astounding variety of programs and instruments one can use to adequately replicate such patterns. All the more reason I severed the connection immediately. You might already have been compromised!”

Being on a government paycheck did have its perks, and though Marvin, also known by his designation O-3PO, was provided to him by the brass at no cost to himself, Michael definitely did not consider the eccentric droid to be one of them. Marvin was not manufactured by Cybot Galactica as one might expect, but by a corporation known as MerenData, who were well known for their production of droids that were based on the popular 3PO series, but possessed many surreptitious modifications. O-3PO was an espionage droid, and a good one, at that. Sometimes too good.

Sometimes so good that Michael wanted to vent him out an airlock and if, against astronomical odds he were picked up by someone else, at least he would be their problem. If only the frakking thing weren’t his main link to brass.

“Kark it, never mind,” Michael sighed. There were certain arguments with Marvin that one could not win. Anything involving security protocols being one of them, “I got in and out clean, saw the ceremony.”

“Splendid! So the mission was indeed a success, as I calculated it would be!” Michael could almost detect the ones and zeroes behind the glee in the droid’s tone.

“Success? I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he grumbled, letting out another sigh, “Wasn’t much to see. Just pretty sounding speeches that didn’t really say anything. Politics.”

“Still, I’m sure an operative of your caliber managed to find something of use!” the praise would have been utterly convincing if Michael hadn’t known Marvin.

The droid often times made no secret it didn’t appreciate being ‘assigned’, as it saw things, to an Observer that had very little real covert experience apart from his time with NRO. Sometimes Michael even got the feeling that, if he hadn’t been specifically programmed not to, the droid would defect to the Empire at the first opportunity if it meant working for an Imperial spook with an impressive enough résumé.

“As a matter of fact, it wasn’t a total loss,” Askrima said, his teeth grinding together, “From what I could tell, brass’s suspicion toward Commodore Starfire isn’t completely unfounded. He’s definitely a good friend of the Chief of State. They left the ceremony together and seemed pretty chatty. And the guy is so frakkin’ young for a Commodore.”

“Established credence to a mission you have already been assigned by your command to investigate. I do not understand how this does not constitute, as you put it, a ‘total loss’, but I suppose that is why I am the droid and you are the operative, Master Askrima,” Marvin chirped as reverently as if he were offering the highest praise, “Perhaps you can obtain intel of value when you follow him to the Alderaan system.”

For a moment, Michael completely forgot his resentment toward Marvin, the frustration gone from his expression, replaced by an ashen face and wide eyes.

“Did…did you say the Alderaan system?” Michael almost gasped, his throat suddenly dry.

“Correct, sir! Is your connection suffering malfunctions?” the droid was either oblivious to the sudden change in tone or was pretending to be. Most likely the latter, “I’m not surprised. I can have a look at your…vessel after you return. It is a wonder that thing is still flying anyway.”

“Why?” he blurted, at first unable to say any more. He managed to somewhat regain composure, continuing in a somewhat shaky voice, “Why is the Rebel Dream headed for Ald…the Alderaan system?”

“You misunderstand, sir. The Rebel Dream will remain at Coruscant. Commodore Starfire has obtained leave, which sounds somewhat suspicious if you were to ask me! Perhaps he is conducting clandestine activities, which is all the more reason for you to pursue!” Marvin chirped on, feigning obliviousness, “As for the choice in system, I cannot be sure as the data does not say. If you would allow me to venture a guess, I would attribute it to his heritage, sir. Survivors of Alderaan have developed a tradition of making a sort of pilgrimage back to the debris of their home world, a ritual that I believe is known as-”

“The Returning,” Michael cut him off, his voice regaining harshness. The banter between him and Marvin, the verbal sparring, was often times stimulating and usually a minor inconvenience and nothing more, but since Marvin was not a protocol droid but an espionage droid disguised as a protocol droid, he lacked the tactful programming that allowed him to distinguish when he had crossed the line from annoyance to cruel. Marvin knew full well of Michael’s heritage, and was attempting to gain leverage in a game he had no reason to believe had changed into something so much more. Michael knew he shouldn’t blame the machine, it had no way of comprehending the line it had crossed, much less the programming to know not to. Nevertheless, the only way one learned… “Marvin. Do you remember the list we’ve discussed before?”

“Oh dear,” Marvin sighed, his voice sounding bored, “And whatever have I done this time, sir?”

“Add Alderaan to the list, Marvin,” Michael growled, “And appreciate what I am going to say next because it is the last time we will ever discuss it. You’re lucky I’m even bothering to explain, because since you lack most ethical programming there are very few ways I can convey to you why Alderaan is now at the top of that list, and all of them are upsetting to discuss. Are you listening, Marvin?”

“Yes, sir,” the tone was still indifferent, but Michael could tell he had piqued Marvin’s curiosity. As a droid designed to crave information, a side-effect of his programming was that sometimes information regarding concepts it could not easily understand were of particular value. Sentient behavior and their irrationality were a particular obsession of Marvin’s, and in a cruel twist of fate the programming which would allow him to understand it more fully had been scrapped from his original 3PO framework to make room for espionage programming.

“Good, now listen closely,” Michael closed his eyes as he spoke, struggling to distance himself from what he was about to say, “When I was twenty three years old, my home planet and everyone on it, millions of people, were destroyed. My father, my mother, my little sister, they were all murdered by the Empire. When I found out, and this is the important part, Marvin, when I found out I stopped what I was doing, strapped thermal detonators to my body, and almost blew up the nearest Imperial embassy. The blast probably would have killed dozens, maybe hundreds of innocent people, and it sure as hell would have obliterated me, but the emotional impact from hearing that everything I loved was gone was so…so frakking painful that I did not care. I lost all rational thought, all impulse to preserve my own life, and all regard for collateral damage. And even though that happened sixteen years ago, that pain, that desolation I experienced upon that day is still just as fresh, just as real, just as terrible as if it had happened yesterday.”

For one of the very few times since Michael had started working with Marvin, the droid did not have anything to say.

“Does. That. Karking. Compute.”

There was a few more moments of silence, and then finally.

“Top of the list, yes sir,” Marvin understood few aspects of sentient irrationality, but even the espionage droid could understand that when a man is willing to offer little regard for innocent life, to end his own existence, in order to destroy those he hates, he has suffered in a profound way, “Shall I inform command you will not be traveling to the…aforementioned system?”

“No,” Michael shook his head, “No, that won’t be necessary. I have my orders. I’ll set a course immediately.”

“Sir? What about me?” the droid asked, “You will need to land if you are to…you are not picking me up, are you?”

“Afraid not, Marvin,” Michael smiled grimly, already out of his space lane and calculating the jump to lightspeed.

“May I remind you, sir, that my expertise has been an invaluable asset to your service thus far, and that-”’

“I know, Marvin, I know,” Michael cut him off once more, “And it isn’t because I wouldn’t love to have you along. It’s just…this is something I have to do alone. I haven’t been to the Graveyard in fifteen years, and my last Returning…well, it was a combat op.”

“Ah, I understand, sir. It is a…personal matter,” Marvin faltered, as if unsure how to proceed, “I trust it will not interfere with the operation?”

“Keep the lights on for me, Marvin,” Michael said, and then the com went dead and the Axiom jumped.


16 Hours Later


Michael could not help but let out a soft gasp as the freighter reverted from hyperspace and the asteroid field that was the Graveyard of Alderaan appeared on his viewport. For a moment he panicked, the Star Destroyers seeming massive and the cockpit of his X-Wing seeming very cramped. Then he shrugged the feeling off.

There were no Star Destroyers. His old X-Wing had probably been scrapped for parts by now. The Battle of the Graveyard had been a long time ago. Those flashes of memory he saw superimposed on reality were just ghosts of the past, symptoms of a mental condition, whatever you wanted to call them. But for those first few seconds, they had seemed so real, so terrifying.

What was he doing here?

Michael had never once considered a Returning. Too many painful reminders came with the prospect. That he had abandoned his peaceful little life filled with promise to drift the Rim, that he had abandoned his parents who had lost one son already, that he had abandoned little Natalya, who looked up to him so much. That he had run away out of resent for them, false resent programmed into him by the Empire. False resent for his parents forbidding him from joining an Imperial academy and becoming a part of the very machine that had nearly destroyed their lives.

And above all, that he was too late. Too late to realize his mind had been tampered with, and sixteen years too late to say goodbye to his family.

He struggled to keep his composure, to focus on the mission, to ignore what this Graveyard represented to him. Then he realized he hadn’t brought an offering to leave behind in memorial, and that little thought proved to be too much to bear. The tears came before he could even react.

Michael Askrima broke down and cried.

It had taken the destruction of this planet to break their hold over him, to feed the hatred toward the Empire that had been artificially blocked by Imperial scientists, to break the dam. And all he could think of was how grateful he was toward Luke Skywalker for blowing all those Imperials on board that Death Star to hell, how much he wished he could have been the one to launch those torpedoes.

“They all deserved it…” he whispered to himself. Frak all that ‘just following orders’ sithspit. Frak forgiveness.

It took him a few more minutes to regain his composure, and not much longer to locate his target on the ship’s sensors. The Sweet Surprise, a Consular-class space cruiser that had gone through the Charger C70 retrofit. Marvin had sent him the vessel’s ID tag before he had made the jump.

After a bit of ‘casual flying’, Michael managed to sidle his freighter into visual range while still retaining the appearance of just another Alderaanian come to mourn the loss of his homeworld. This part wasn’t too difficult, as he only had to fly like he felt.

To his slight surprise, the target vessel was docked with a diplomatic shuttle. Looking up its registry, his eyes widened as the planet of origin appeared: New Alderaan. His mind instantly jumped to radical, conspiratorial conclusions, and then a jarring realization hit him that almost made him laugh at his own stupidity.

“We’re in the karking Graveyard,” he whispered to himself, giving a grim smile and shaking his head, “Of course it’s from New Alderaan.”

Still, it was suspicious enough that the Sweet Surprise was docked with a diplomatic shuttle on what was supposed to be Commodore Starfire’s personal leave. There might be something to it. The shuttle, the Chianar as it was registered, had an unlisted passenger. To his own surprise, he found himself wishing Marvin were here. If anyone could find the identity of the shuttle’s mystery passenger on the spot, it was O-3PO. Michael couldn’t find out himself without risking compromising his identity to Starfire. When your assignment is a person, your anonymity can be invaluable.

The Observer stored the Chianar’s ID tag in his freighter’s database. No doubt Marvin could come up with a name when Michael returned. But for now, all he could do was sit and wait. And observe, of course.

“This better not be as boring as the ceremony,” he muttered.

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

They both took a moment to sip down a taste of the gold wine Mahri had just poured, both hoping the awkward moment would pass.

"Please no need to apologize, I am in no position to judge anybody about their busy schedules.  This is actually the first leave I've had in some time now."

Mahri felt back in complete control of herself once again.  Her heart still raced a bit despite her best efforts.  In some ways it seemed surreal to be sipping wine next to Qardin after all of these years.  At times during their youth he had somehow seemed bigger than life, he had been very popular, a talented athlete, top of his class academically, the list seemed endless in her mind.  Once again she found herself gazing as he finished his sentence.  She smiled as she made eye contact with him as though she had been listening to everything he had just said.

“I’ve kept up on your progress throughout the years, Yavin and Endor, your most recent assignment to the defense fleet.  You’ve been a very active and successful warrior since joining the Rebellion and now the New Republic.  It must be scary to constantly be on the forefront of battle.”

“On the contrary Miss Sellitna, unlike yourself, I have the ability to see my enemies laid out before me on the battlefield.  I myself…"  He smiled as he finished his sentence.  "…would be more scared in your position than my own.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his poking fun of her.  She gave him a light tap on the arm as she responded.

“Qardin Starfire, are you making fun of me!?”

“Oh no, like I said I’d be much to scared to enter a politicians battlefield, like I said I like being able to look my enemies in the eye.”

She retreated back, resting against the back cushion and the arm of the couch, peering, smiling as she cut her eyes at him.

"I see you are still the charmer, some things not even you have outgrown Commodore."

He was amazed at how the galaxy worked.  He had been far from home for so long, been a part of many battles, he had almost forgot Mahri even existed he had been so busy.  Now he found himself lost in her eyes, a child hood friend now grown into a woman.  Actually one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on.  He felt compelled to tell her his feelings, they were bursting inside of him almost uncontrollable.  Finally at the breaking point he built up enough courage to come out with it.

"Mahri I…"

Just as the words were about to escape his mouth Captain Eldrette chimed in over the ships comm speaker.

"Miss Sellitna, I'm sorry to interrupt but I have a priority one message for Commodore Starfire from the Supreme Commander."

Qardin rose at the news and was on his way to the cockpit before Mahri had time to respond.

"Thank you Captain he is on his way."

As Qardin entered the cockpit Captain Eldrette rose already anticipating being asked to leave.

"Thank you for the message Captain but I must ask for a moment of privacy, I'm sorry."

"Of course sir."

The message did not go into specific details but it was to inform him his leave would be cut short and his presence was requested back on Courscant at once for priority mission planning.  Once completed he wiped the message and returned to the observation deck.  Mahri rose as he entered and the Captain slipped past and returned to the cockpit.

"Is everything ok?"

"I'm not sure, apparently there is some sort of Imperial garrison on Tatooine.  One of our fighter squadrons suffered casualties escaping the system, they have information on the situation back on Courscant.  I am to return to the capital immediately.   I'm sorry to have to cut this short, I didn't realize how much I miss being back in the presence of friends."

"Please no need to apologize, it's one of the casualties of our line of work.  Now that we know each other exists more than just on paper perhaps we can do this again sometime, under a more joyous occasion though."

"I promise, we will."

He kissed her on the cheek and then gave her a warm hug.  For a moment he didn't want to let her go but he knew he had to.  As he pulled her back away he looked her in the eyes one more time.  Once again his emotions were bursting inside him but this time the courage escaped him.

"Well I must go."

Mahri watched the Sweet Surprise turn and pull away from the Chianar, as it made it's way towards a safe jump point she suddenly found herself missing him.  Qardin actually left the piloting up to the captain of the Sweet Surprise this time and remained in his quarters towards the rear of the ship.  Before settling in he looked out of his own observation window towards the Chianar, his head resting on his forearm as the empty feeling sunk into the pit of his stomach.

"Commodore, we're about to make the jump to hyperspace."

"Thank you Captain."

He strapped himself in and could hear the engines whine as they powered up for the jump.  Distracting himself he began going over what intelligence there was of the situation on Tatooine, it was limited but he expected there would be much more waiting for him upon his return to Courscant.

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

Mahri’s attention was glued to the transparisteel viewport as Qardin’s ship disappeared from view.  To her visual left lay the remnants of their past, to her right the expanse of space and the infinity of the future.  Her stomach suddenly felt as hollow as the blackness before her and she braced herself on the viewport.  She didn’t understand why her mind was racing so furiously around the Commodore.  Sixteen years was a long time, but they had only been childhood acquaintances as the children of old buddies.  She had never thought of Qardin in any capacity other than the Vizier’s son, especially with a seven year gap in their age.  Now her thoughts lingered on the kiss he had gently pressed to her cheek and the strength of his arms as they had embraced and the way his smell had made her tingle.

She had lost herself in thought for the better part of an hour when a voice over the central comm startled her back to reality, “Miss Sellitna?”

Mahri abandoned her post at the viewport leaving only a misty outline of her hand behind.  At the comm a simple press of a button allowed her to reply, “Yes, Captain?”

“Did you have other business to attend to, Miss, or were you ready to return to Coruscant?”

“Oh, of course, Captain.  I’m ready to return at your leisure.”

“Thank you.  If you’ll return to your seat on the main deck, we will get underway.”

Back at her seat, Mahri’s portable terminal was waiting, the tiny light in the top corner blinking an alert for a new message received.  She ignored it until she had settled in for the return trip.  Waiting so patiently for her was a message from Senator Arama, asking for her immediate return to Coruscant.  He was intentionally vague, mentioning only that her services were needed the moment she returned.  Mahri replied immediately and simply, “On my way.  M.”

Her message, and the ship, were now en route back to Coruscant.

Re: Diamonds and Rust (Open to Alderaanians)

Space is lonely.

It’s easy to romanticize it planet side, especially when you have little hope of ever knowing anything else, but if by some chance you manage to make it off whatever rock you’re stuck on, each and every wannabe spacer must ultimately face the realization that the distant stars they longed to reach for so long are nothing more than points of light separated by endless vacuum, cold and empty.

It takes a special type of person to claim the void between worlds as their home. Introverts, manic depressives, scum driven to desperation, souls wrestling with inner demons, damaged goods. Space is maddening, the kind of mental deterioration that artists endure. It wears you down. So many ships leave port from countless planets and are never seen again. Nobody wants to think of the impossible to calculate number of suicides, the floating coffins too far from any star to ever be found.

Normally, Michael never thought about that. He could brag about his scoundrel’s luck, his service during the Civil War, his tenacity, but deep down he knew he had been selected as an Observer for his sheer capability to turn that emotionally reflective aspect of his brain off and stick to logic and reasoning, data as cold as the space around him. He had been gifted, cursed with, that nifty trick by equally coldly calculating Imperial scientists in a sterile laboratory Force knows where.

The smuggler’s charm had always been a clever façade, a mask thrown on to gain acceptance…and occasionally lull others into a false sense of security. In the end, Michael Askrima could be as emotionally desolate as his robotic counterpart.

And yet here he was, drifting through the wreckage of what had once been home, surrounded by debris left over from a life that was. Had that rock been from the canyon walls of Crevasse City?  Had that one been a part of a Killik mound from the Castle Lands? Was one of those rocks home? The switch in his head no longer worked. Emotion flooded in. For the first time since he was a young boy, Michael was lost in thought, unable to focus, remembering.

“Frak me…” he mumbled.

Focus. He needed focus. He had an assignment, for frak’s sake. There was another type of spacer, one that was all too often lumped into the same category as all the others. Soldiers too called space their home. He may no longer be a fighter jock or a space marine or on the front lines, but kark it he was a soldier nonetheless. He served the New Republic, he knew his duty, and he would be damned if he was going to let a little thing like thirty years worth of anguish get in the way.

Space. Space was tactically disadvantageous.

In the world of espionage, space could often times be your worst enemy. There were very few practical methods of intelligence gathering when the agent and the target are separated by vacuum and two durasteel hulls. Faced with this situation, an agent has two choices. Infiltration or observation. When the other vessel is military, this choice is often times simple, but unsatisfying. Not a lot of conspiracies have been uncovered by keen study of spaceship exteriors.

Nonetheless, Michael had surprisingly managed to acquire some extremely useful data so far. The chances were very likely that Commodore Starfire had ulterior motives for taking leave, an idea that upset Michael on a personal level. To choose the ruins of one’s own home planet as the meeting place for illicit activities showed a real lack of moral fortitude, but that was too much of an emotional response. He could not let his judgment be clouded, only facts would suffice.

So Starfire had ulterior motives, but that didn’t necessarily prove anything. The connection to New Alderaan would have been something, if they had not been in the one part of the entire galaxy, aside from New Alderaan itself, that was populated almost exclusively by Alderaanians. So that left him with one option, the only option available to an operative when they find themselves with insufficient intel.

Gather more. How? Any way he possibly could.

Michael’s hands were inches away from the com station when it began to blink of its own accord. What had he been about to do? Hail the Sweet Surprise, or more likely the Chianar, and say what? He would have had to think of something on the fly. He had faked damages to the hyperdrive motivator or the inertial dampeners with shorter deadlines. But no matter how good a cover he came up with on the fly, there were simply too many variables to keep track of. It was sloppy, but he was desperate.

The incoming message, text only, changed all of that. He recognized the cipher as Marvin’s work, and they had been working together for long enough to decode a message that would’ve stumped the best of the best of the NRI for months. It read simply:

Olly olly ronto free.

His and Marvin’s code phrase system might lack finesse, but crudity had its uses. For some reason Michael was being recalled to Coruscant. His hands shifted from the com controls to helm and navigation as he plotted the route that would take him through hyperspace back to the ecumenopolis. Almost as soon as he broke off his current vector his sensors began to beep furiously and alarms ran rampant through Michael’s mind.

The Sweet Surprise had broken away from the Chianar and switched to a vector…yes, a vector that would intersect his new course. Michael’s eyes snapped to the navigation readouts and for a moment his mind blanked as dozens of mathematical equations flooded into his mind, almost in the same way as if he were playing sabacc. The results were not promising. At its current speed, the cruiser would overtake him before the Axiom could make the jump to lightspeed.

Of course, Michael could change that if he redlined the freighter’s sublight, but running would give him away, and that was the last thing he wanted. He was almost out of the hot zone, and to blow the op at this juncture…well, it would certainly give Marvin some more fuel for that over snippy vocabulator of his. No, the best course of action was to do nothing. Keep at current speed and course, fly casual, and wait for them to make the first move.

If he played his cards right, he could even end up with one hell of an Idiot’s Array. After all, hadn’t he just been about to make contact with them?

So he waited, and waited, and just as they were getting within optimum weapons range and the beads of sweat were beginning to drip down his brow in earnest, the Sweet Surprise did something he absolutely did not expect. Something he had not even factored into the odds.

They jumped.

And that was when all of the tells fell into place, and Michael realized that he had, for one of the very few times in his life, overestimated his opponent’s hand. The timing of the Sweet Surprise’s departure hadn’t coincided with his at all, but rather with that of Marvin’s communiqué. He mulled the equations over in his head. Yes, just about enough time between the recall signal and the cruiser’s sudden departure for all hands on the two vessels to return to their proper ship.

Starfire had been recalled to Coruscant, and so had Michael.

The steady beeping emanating from navigation jarred the Observer from his reverie, and he realized that the course had been plotted for the return trip to the New Republic capital. He was just about to activate the hyperdrive when he paused once more to regard the sensors. The Chianar too had activated their sublight and were…also headed in his direction.

The initial fear that had gripped him upon the Sweet Surprise’s departure was replaced with a heightened sense of curiosity. He sat back, one hand near the hyperdrive, and watched as the diplomatic shuttle reached roughly the same area of space Starfire’s cruiser had before jumping away as well…on the same vector, as far as Michael could tell.

Now this was interesting. The math just didn’t add up there. Starfire had been obviously headed for Coruscant, farther into the Core than the Graveyard was. New Alderaan, however, was in the Outer Rim. So Starfire’s mystery guests were headed back to the capital as well? Perhaps a bit of a stretch, but then where else could their destination be? And if they were headed to Coruscant in the first place, or at least farther into the Core, why bother to make their rendezvous all the way out here?

Something wasn’t right, and Michael could only hope that when he made it back to the capital, Marvin would have answers for him. Letting out a small sigh of mixed frustration and exhaustion, he toggled the hyperdrive, felt the slight jolt, and saw the stars around him turn into lines.

Why couldn’t these missions ever be routine?