The planning thread for this story may be found here.

Coruscant. It glittered black and silver and orange ahead of them. Day’ric had never been so happy to see his homeworld.

Jagurr uncomfortably shifted in his seat. “He apologizes for what he did, Day’ric.”

“Quit apologizing, Jagurr. And you use the first-person. Third-person weirds me out.”

“He lost that right when he acted so uncivilly. He could have killed you all.”

“That’s another apology,” Day’ric said.

“He is sorry.”

“Honestly, apologize one more time and I’ll knock you out again. Just be quiet.”

Jagurr was more than happy to comply. Other than his near constant apologies to Day’ric, he was always silent. It was very odd. But he was a great pilot, better than almost any Day’ric had ever met.

 In silence, they drifted towards the glittering center of the Republic. Inside his chest, Day’ric’s heart swelled. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Nalla, tears in her eyes. It wasn’t a good sign. Somewhere through the fog that had covered his mind, Day’ric’s logic told him that they were all under severe PTSD, what with so many of their fellow pilots dying, their imprisonment, their torture. Their minds were breaking down, and now that they were back to Coruscant, all their barriers would shatter.

Nalla’s tears weren’t of joy.

She had fully expected for them all to die on Tatooine, or in the escape, and now that it was clear that they were free she was actually a little disappointed. She was angry at that disappointment, and scared for the future.

The future was a terrifying prospect that none of them wanted to face. Whatever lives the squadron had lived before had ended. They would forever be overshadowed by the ghosts of Tatooine. All of them would have nightmares about Gonnlar’s too-still body.

Day’ric stood and pulled Nalla into his embrace. He spoke quietly to her as their Gand pilot wordlessly began his preparations for landing. Day’ric whispered into her ear, his words seeming false even to him.

“It’s gonna be all right, Winks, it’s gonna be all right.”

Those words were a lie.


Major Cornelius Dram was a huge man, a mix of muscle and fat that defied logic. His uniform clung tightly to his girth, and he had a habit of tugging at his collar to allow his prodigious Adam’s apple room to bounce up and down as he spoke.

His voice was a mix of rumbles and squeaks, with no middle ground, and he spoke too much, at least for Day’ric’s currently weak emotions. The man grated on him from the moment he entered the room where their debrief was being held.

“Uh yes, welcome, welcome. You’re the White Shadows, yes? Hmm, right, yes. ‘Alien Squadron’ and all that, yeah? I’m Major Cornelius Dram, and I’m both an officer of this Republic and a certified therapist for post-traumatic patients. I’ve been assigned to watch over you while you recover from the events on Tatooine, yes? Quite horrific, from what I have read. Acting-Captain Shallon’s report was quite thorough in it’s explanation.”

Day’ric was seething. The tone the man was taking was nothing short of judgemental. The air thrummed around him. Ben started rubbing his temples, then threw Day’ric a glance.

But Day’ric couldn’t help it.

“We will be putting each of you through out debrief program designed for those who have been tortured. Of course, there will be some change in the structure of your squadron during this time. A new captain has to be promoted, the blank spaces filled in. You all understand, yes? As such, we ask that you stay within HQ until after we find both yourselves personally and as a squadron are fit for combat again, yes?”

Day’ric ignored the man’s tone, trying to get a rein on the Force energy storming through him.

“Of course, we here are very busy, what with all this Rogue business and the press. Plus the planning for our little escapade to Tatooine. By the gods, the planning, yes? Most ridiculous, for three little galleons, yes?”

That snapped it. He was talking about Tatooine, and the Imps there, as if it was a stain on a shirt that could be rubbed out easily. Day’ric knew how deep this stain really went.

The Force energy exploded, and there was a snap as the Major’s leg suddenly buckled under him. There was a second as his arm twisted back.

“Day’ric, stop!” Ben yelled.

“I can’t! I can’t control it!” Day’ric screamed.

The Major screamed in pain as his shoulder popped from it’s joint, followed by a rib forcibly cracking.

“By god, man!” Ben screamed, then whipped around and punched Day’ric in the face. Day’ric groaned as he fell, but the Major continually thrashed as fingers, feet and toes were broken under a constant pressure from the Force.

Ben pounded three, four, five more times, blood poured from Day’ric’s temple as the last punch dropped. He was rendered unconscious.

The Major stopped thrashing. Nalla rushed to the door and screamed down the hall.

“We need a medic in here!”


“We understand your feelings, Lieutenant, but it doesn’t change our minds. We must treat our Force-sensitive pilots the same as anyone else. More strictly in fact.”

“Ma’am, if I may?”

“Of course, Master Ahikg’har.”

“The Force is a strange thing, and it can be made completely uncontrollable under cases of severe stress, or with little training. With Lieutenant Shallon’s already weakened psyche, in conjunction with his limited knowledge and skill in the Force, he had no control over his actions. He wasn’t assaulting a superior officer. He had no control over what he was doing. Looking back in the holos, it would appear he was actively trying to fight it. A court marshall is not in order.”

“Master Jedi, we will take this into account.”

“I wasn’t finished. Regardless of this, it doesn’t absolve him of responsibility on some minute level. I recommend the Order send a representative to train him, so as to prevent the event from repeating itself in the future. As the White Shadows have to remain on site anyway, I believe this would be a good use of time, a distraction from boredom. In fact, it may even help calm his emotions regarding the past.”

“That is an excellent suggestion, but can the order spare any Jedi for this? If it is necessary, we could place Corporal Corender on charge.”

“That would be highly inappropriate, regarding the Corporal’s also weakened emotional state. But I believe the order does have one Knight who they can spare. She is pregnant, and as such is unable to perform regular duties. But she is more than capable of training someone. Besides, she too needs a distraction. It has been…a while since her husband has contacted us. She believes him to be in trouble, but he is a strong man. She needs something to focus on in the meantime.”

“An excellent idea. Who would this Knight be?”

“Jenia Helkat Vibrose.”

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

As the Sweet Surprise screamed back towards Courscant it didn't take long for Qardin to finish the limited intelligence report on Tatooine.  To keep himself busy for the rest of the trip he thought it best to freshen up and change into something more official, he knew as soon as he landed he would hit the ground running and there would be no other chance.  

As it neared the landing platform his second in command Captain Zan Deo was anxiously awaiting the ships landing, it was almost as if he had been waiting in the same spot the entire time.  As Qardin descended the boarding ramp Zan came to attention and popped a crisp salute.  He returned the courtesy then patted him on the back to signal there was no time to waste.

“How’s the Dream?”

“Ready to go sir, all systems checks have been completed with 100% compliance.  All fighter squadrons have completed their own inspections as well.  Weapons report fully stocked and ready.  The main crew has all been given their assignments with only the tech crews left to fully report in.”

“Good let’s see to it they report in ASAP, I have a feeling we will be moving out shortly.”

“Sir there has been quite a buzz lately, shortly before you arrived we were put on alert and several ships have been recalled back.  The Senate has been in overdrive too.  What is going on?”

“I’m trying to find that out myself Zan.  What I know of right now is limited, it has something to do with Imperials and Tatooine.”

“Tatooine?  What in the name of…sir why would the New Republic be concerned over a planet like that?”

Qardin stopped to look his first officer in the eye.  He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Zan, sometimes we mustn’t look at things only skin deep.  Sometimes, despite how we feel we must follow orders, we have to defend those being oppressed no matter where we find them.  It’s what separates us, from the Empire.  On top of that, some of our very own were killed escaping the planet.”

Zan paused a moment to reflect on his commanders words before jogging to catch up with him once again.

“So it’s a retaliation then?”

“Possibly, that’s the way I’m going to treat it.  But like everything else I’m sure if the Senate is buzzing they have their own agenda on the matter.”

As they arrived at the planning room Deo held back as Qardin was promptly admitted.  Admiral Akbar stood at the head of the table with his webbed fingers grasping his belt, his bulbous eyes locking onto him as he entered the room.  Also at the table was Fleet Admiral of the New Class project and his direct commander, Admiral Kess Zionz, General Tyr Taskeen of the New Republic Army, representatives from the NRI, and military advisors to the Senate and Chief of State.

“Commodore Starfire, please have a seat.  I’m sorry I had to cut your leave short but as you’ll soon find out, it was necessary.”

As he took his seat a silver 3PO series droid handed out caf to all of the members at the table.  As the room sipped on their drinks Akbar took his seat and was replaced by a young human NRI agent by the name of Tomra Nord.  As the overhead lights dimmed a display screen illuminated in the middle of the table producing images and data figures of events that had recently taken place on the surface of Tatooine.  

“Ladies and Gentlemen, what you see before you is the last 72 hours of activity on the planets surface.  Now as you can see we have received reports of a sizable force on the ground, AT-STs, and many sandtroopers.  It appears to be the classic Imperial tactic to rule by force and keep the planet in order by fear.  But we think they may be slipping, Intell provided by Captain Shallon and his squadron also revealed three Galleons in orbit guarding the planet.  Now if we act quickly we can neutralize the Galleons, secure orbit and send in our own assault force to liberate the planet…”

Agent Nord continued on with his briefing for another hour, the rest covered the political situation unfolding, potential ramifications of non-action, the NRI’s best estimations of force strength, and required troop numbers to counter the threat.  Qardin sat patiently weighing in on all of the information.  Once completed Admiral Akbar thanked Nord for his presentation and then opened the floor up.  Qardin wasted no time to respond.

“Admiral even if we act now, we have to expect the Imperials to be weighing the same options and the same numbers as we are.  Fact of the matter is, some of our men survived.  Now they know this information has made it back to us, and they will surely send reinforcements.  Not to mention this still has to travel through the Senate and any action has to be voted on.  That will take time.”

“I agree Commodore.  That is why I ordered the return of several ships to be placed in league with your own and will be operating directly under your command.  We are anticipating strong resistance to whatever force we send.”

“Thank you Admiral, do we have a strike team assembled yet?”

Agent Nord felt compelled to respond to the question.

“Admiral, if I may.  Commodore our models indicate the best course of action is orbital assault followed by ground combat, force against force.  A surgical strike team is not needed.”

General Taskeen was clearly troubled by this logic and spoke up on Qardin's behalf.

“Agent Nord, I’m sure your models take into account a great many things.  But we are talking about a mechanized force down there, not to mention a potentially hostile population.  On top of all that an orbital assault would lead to civilian casualties which can be mostly avoided.  I happen to agree with Starfire on this, a strike team can lead the assault to soften their forces, followed by troop support if needed.”

Nord retreated flushed in the face having just been verbally put in his place by the General.  Admiral Akbar saved the man from any further embarrassment.  

“You make an excellent point General.  Send me the details of the strike team once you have it assembled.”

“Of course Admiral.”

After all of the deliberation Qardin was still troubled by one thing.

“Admiral, where is Captain Shallon.  It would have been much better to pick his brain for information first hand.”

“He has been detained Commodore.”

“Detained?  Debriefings have become that serious now?”

“Hardly Commodore.  I will ensure he is made available to you if you wish to speak with him however.”

“Thank you Admiral, I would very much appreciate that.”

“Now if there is nothing else to add to this meeting we will show it officially adjourned.”

As the men filed out of the room General Taskeen pulled Qardin aside for a brief inquiry.  

“Commodore, if I may have a quick word with you.”

“Yes sir.”

“Since the battle will be coordinated from your ship, under your command, not to mention it was ultimately your idea, I would like your input as to who you’d like to see lead the strike team.”

“I see" as he thought about it carefully it didn't take long for somebody to come to mind.  "In that case I think I have somebody in mind that might just fit this type of roll perfectly.  Plus I have a feeling he’s been itching to get back into action.”

“And who might that be?”

“Carger Havik.”

“Carger Havik?  The self defense instructor?”

“His service record is exemplary, his ability to blend in with this type of environment could be paramount.  He instructed my self-defense course during my survival training refresher.  Very thorough, very rigid.  Not big on the rules and restrictions of the formal army which is exactly the type of guy we need to get this type of job done.”

“I will speak to him immediately and have him begin building his strike team at once.  Thank you Commodore.”

Writing as Governor Tol...

Back on Tatooine:

Maanan the Feeorin was not a happy smuggler. Just minutes before his ship was to leave the spaceport of Mos Eisley, the entire complex was locked down and all flights were delayed until further notice. To add, a small squad of stormtroopers had forced a boarding party to escort him to see Governor Tol after the riot was finally quashed.

The Feeorin captain jabbered in a fury, his lips wet with foaming drool. Beside him marched Tol's escort of stormtroopers. The alien spoke in a brusque voice. "What is the meaing of this?! I've got my clearance to leave already! Commander Kesa will be furious for what you are doing to me!"

None of the stormtroopers seem to pay attention to the blabbering smuggler. He was searched at the entrance of the governor's building and then quickly escorted inside. After a series of corridors, he was placed inside a room, and was forced to sit. Minutes later, Commander Tol entered the room. Maanan skewered him with a glare. "Tol! What is the meaning of this? Where's Kesa? I've been cleared to leave with his shipment!"

Tol cocked his head down to stare at the Feeorin. "Shut your mouth and listen! Things have been altered now."

Maanan shut up instantly, but was still in a fury.

Commander Tol continued. "Kesa has been disposed by one of Admiral Dodonna's Hands. Now I have been made governor of Tatooine and commander of all forces here." He removed a datapad from his hip and punched a button to call up his latest readout. He turned it toward Maanan so he can look at the information. "Maanan, we appreciate your partnership in our little trading business. However, Dodonna has now shut down all operations with the death of our governor. That being the case, you also need to be shut down. This will be your last shipment. There will be no more contact with us anymore. Our business is over."

"What do you mean?" Maanan said.

The door of the interrogation chamber sighed open again, revealing two stormtrooper guards and another officer. "Take the captain back to his ship," Tol said, then narrowed his eyes to the Feerion. "It means this is your only chance to leave Tatooine with your ship, your cargo, and your life. You will destroy all records that will tie me and Kesa to your little operation."

The Feeorin bowed, and stood at attention. "You have my word, Commander.. err.. Governor. And thank you. That is most respectful of you. I appreciated your business."

The stormtroopers took him away, clomping down the sterile halls of the governor's command center. The doors sealed shut again, leaving Commander Tol alone with a comscan officer sitting by his communications console. He turned to him with a smirk. "Ensign, patch open a channel to one of our Star Galleons in orbit."

+++

The close-up holo-image of the Star Galleon's captain flickered, but he could see the self-satisfied grin on his wide, swarthy face. "We're just spotted the ship that you have described that has the contraband in its cargo."

"Excellent, Captain. I trust you are at a good vantage point?"

The captain nodded. "Absolutely, Governor. He is ready to be boarded. Just order the tractor beam."

Tol turned back to the viewing screen in the command center. The converted Corellian gunship raced out from the atmosphere of the desert planet. "Target the ship using your turbolasers," he told the holo-image. "We are not going to capture it. This person is too dangerous to be kept alive."

"Yes, Commander."

"Calculate distance to target. Maximum firepower." Tol intentionally spoke loud enouh for the rest of the command center to hear.

"Are you sure about this, Governor?" the captain inquired again.

"If he is not eliminated, he will return with more of his kind. Besides…" Tol said, "…ships vanish all the time, captain. A meteor storm, a breached reactor plate, bad navigation through hyperspace. No one will miss him."

The captain nodded, but he still looked doubtful.

The comm officer spoke up. "The transponder we inplanted in his comm system has activated. He's sending a tight-beam transmission toward the Core Worlds."

Tol smiled. "Good, I didn't think he'd wait until he got clear. He would sell out his own mother in order to gain some credits."

The comm officer pressed his earpiece to the side of his head. "He's reporting what has happened to–"

"Jam the transmission," Tol ordered. He turned to the blue holo-image. "You see now, Captain? Now proceed." He stood back and folded his arms.

The turbolaser bolts slammed against the Corellian gunship, igniting the reactor walls of the rocket pods. It detonated, blasting the inferno open and sending a tidal wave of deadly radiation through the starship. An instant later, the rocket pods blew up in brilliant sunbursts; then the rest of the ship expanded outward in a blinding glare.

Governor Tol nodded and whispered to himself. "That takes care of that last loose end to our operation. Now nothing can tie me to Kesa's activities of the past."

He turned to face the rest of his command crew. "We now have purged the last of the scum and villiany on this planet. Now we need to begin operations to defend our world for the possible arrival of the Rebel Alliance."

Tol drew a deep breath, feeling vibrant and alive with euphoria. Commander Kesa would have been proud of him if he were still alive. He ran a slender finger along his chin and again faced the holo-image of the captain of the Star Galleon. "Captain, I want you to order one of your army commanders to lead a strong ground force to defend Tatooine. Take two AT-AT's from your ship and a pair from each of the other Star Galleons. Six Armored Transports should be enough."

"Yes, Governor Tol. I will have Major Adan ordered to lead the force."

Tol fixed the holo-image with his icy stare. "Consider it top priority, Captain. We've been cooped up guarding this dustbowl for too long and we won't have the Rebels take back what we've fought for. Dismissed."

The blue image faded from view.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Day’ric had never been debriefed for PTSD before. Having missed the Civil War, and mostly acting as an escort in previous missions, he had avoided the worst of the mental strain some fighter jockeys felt. Even after his first mission with the Shadows, when he had been captured by his own twisted cousin, Helik, he had not felt the strain on his emotions that he felt now. The heat, the deaths and the torture had all combined into a rolling fury that seemed to demolish his mind anytime he seemed to be getting better.

The unique thing for the healing process was that HQ was simultaneously trying to avoid damaging his psyche further while still getting the information they needed from him and the other members of the squadron. Pushing too hard could send any of the members into an emotional tailspin, while not pushing hard enough would prevent proper intel on the situation from being gathered. It was a catch 22: lose intel, keep the squadron, lose the squadron, keep intel.

This meant that some days Day’ric would be left in a dreary solitude, and others kindly desk-captains would be sitting with him, making small talk and occasionally trying to pull some half-forgotten tidbit of necessary information from his head. All the while, the looming specter of this Jenia Helkat Vibrose cast a shadow over his mind. He did not feel particularly excited about training with a Jedi, feeling that she would try to indoctrinate him into the order. It wasn’t something that Day’ric felt particularly enthusiastic about.

On the plus side, she had her own problems to deal with. Her husband, apparently one of the best swordsmen of his generation, was missing, his messages dropping off the map only weeks ago. The wounds would still be fresh. Day’ric hoped this would be enough to distract her from the inevitable attempt at conversion. He didn’t feel particularly open to any religion at the moment, let alone becoming a Jedi.

Day’ric had looked into the woman a bit, but had gotten little information. She was Dantooine. Her parents were farmers, her brother was still at home, her sister had died in infancy. She had fallen off the map for a little while when she was 18, but had resurfaced a year or two later, working as a mechanic, then a translator. She had been picked up by Skywalker’s Praxeum about a year and a half, maybe closer to two, ago. As was usually the case, information from her training was vague. She had “disappeared” for a brief stint about half a year back, had been “recovered” by Haika Vibrose, and had married him soon after. She had accompanied him on a mission to Lorrd, the details of which were higher than Day’ric’s security level allowed him access to. Soon after, Haika had left the order. Jenia wished to remain a part of the Jedi, but as she was pregnant, Haika had left her behind, rather than allow her, as a Jedi, to accompany him wherever he was going. He had kept in contact with her until about two or three weeks earlier, when his messages had ceased without warning.

That was all the info Day’ric could find. It was all very vague and unhelpful in determining her personality, although it had helped develop an idea of what to expect in terms of how she would train him. She wasn’t good with a blade: in her relationship, her husband represented body while she represented mind. She focused her keen intellect on solving problems while her husband did the heavy lifting. Day’ric didn’t know if this was a particularly flattering image of the missing Haika Vibrose, but it certainly scared Day’ric. So far, his Force sensitivity had only manifested in physical force. He could sense certain things, but only physically, not in the metaphysical way that seemed common among Jedi. He was stronger and faster than he had a right to be, he knew that, but he couldn’t read minds. He had used telekinesis, but had never tricked a slow minded person. All in all, he felt more in common with Haika than Jenia.

Although, he pondered, maybe that would mean she knew how to handle his type. She had clearly been very close to Haika. And maybe that sort of cool intellectual mind would be more suited to helping a damged emotional state than physical training would be.

Regardless of whether it was to be a good or bad change, Day’ric didn’t have much choice in the matter. It was either train with the Jedi or be court marshaled for his accidental assault on a superior officer. Good, bad or terrible, Jenia was the lesser of two evils.

Nalla seemed to agree with the sentiment. Of course, once Nalla had heard that Jenia was pregnant, she had taken an instant liking to the idea of having her around. Nalla could be a hardass (Day’ric had seen her with a vibrosword, and he had also seen her beat up a Rodian for peeping on her changing), but she had one undeniable soft spot: babies. Day’ric had always thought that most female pilots hated the idea of children (it really did seem to be a common factor), but Nalla seemed the exception to that rule.

Nalla had actually once asked him what a good name that went with Frontierus was, if she were to have a baby. Day’ric had answered without much of a thought, saying his favourite uncle’s name.

“Regnus,” he had answered.

She had immediately blanched. “They’d call him Reggie. Reggie Frontierus.”

“Fine, what would be a good name to go with Shallon then?”

She had thought hard for a moment before answering. “Caspia. Caspia Shallon.”

Day’ric thought about that. “I used to have a childhood friend named Caspia. Her father was a primary shareholder in my dad’s company.”

Nalla grinned. “Maybe you should have married her. It’s a nice name.”

Day’ric grinned at her. “She was a redhead. Not exactly my type.”

“You don’t like redheads?”

“I’m not fond of humans.”

She had laughed at that.

But that seemed to be Nalla. She could talk about babies one second and instantly move onto Day’ric’s sexual attractions the next. It was those conversations that made Day’ric love her.

It was only a few days after that conversation that the Jedi Knight showed up. The ship she came in was old, but more than serviceable. Several marks across it’s sleek hull identified it as the White Elder. It was piloted by a Wookie, who seemed to take a more than necessary protective attitude towards Mrs. Vibrose. Also joining her was a protocol droid, in working condition but not exactly top of the line. In reality, it looked like it had been rebuilt several times. Only it’s head seemed original.

The Knight herself was very pretty, bordering on beautiful, although she had a myriad of tiny scars on her hands and several near her hairline. Her stomach bulged with the young life inside. Day’ric was no doctor, but he guessed her at six months, about the same time she would have married.

She had dark hair, a colour of inky black uncommon amongst most humans. Her eyes were green, her skin almost too white. Unnaturally pale. Day’ric wondered why that was.

She was likeable, in an odd way. Day’ric was sure that if the obvious undercurrents of worry weren’t flowing through her, she would remind him of Nalla. She held herself in a similar fashion. Maybe he and Haika were more similar than Day’ric had at first assumed. They seemed to like similar women.

She held out a hand to him. “Captain Shallon?”

“Please,” he said, shaking her hand. He had to be careful. It was his robotic one. “Call me Day’ric. Or Blue. You’re Master Vibrose, then?”

“Just Jenia,” she smiled, “my husband is closer to master than I am. Or he was.”

That cast a sad specter upon her features. Day’ric cleared his throat and turned to the Wookie.

“You’re the ship’s captain, then?”

The Wookie rumbled loudly in Shyriiwook.

The droid turned to Day’ric. “Hello, sir. We are C-6PO. Our friend says that his name is…”

“I understand a few of the Wookie dialects,” Day’ric said, “the Shadow’s first captain was a Wookie. Went by Onayshh.” He turned back to the Wookie. “Nice to meet you, Howldan.”

“Danny is one of my husband’s oldest friends,” Jenia said, “he hasn’t left my side since my husband left.”

Howldan grumbled for her not to call him Danny.

“Your husband is friends with Wookies?” Day’ric asked.

“Our master grew up on Kashyyk, Master Shallon.” C-6PO spoke.

Day’ric raised an eyebrow. “Why does he keep speaking as if he is multiple people?”

“His original body was blown up on Coruscant about a month and a half, two months ago,” Jenia explained, “we had a back-up of his memories, but there have been a few glitches in transferring them to a new body, especially when the spare was a little…slap-dash.”

Day’ric cast another glance at Sixpeeoh’s body. He could understand.

“So are Howldan and Sixpeeoh staying with us?” Day’ric asked.

Howldan spoke quickly, his growls sure and loud.

“I guess they are then,” Day’ric rubbed his forehead. He was feeling a headache coming on. “Why don’t you get settled in, and then I’ll introduce you to the rest of the squadron

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Looking over Day'ric's appointments he had been a pretty busy man.  Every intel buff had been crawling out of the woodworks to sit down with him, to gain some sort of useful tidbit they could take back to their superiors, a cutthroat effort at a promotion no doubt.  After reading the report of his initial debriefing with Major Dram, he reclined back in his chair, coupling his hands behind his head, smiling, taking a deep breath as looked at the ceiling of his luxurious office.  Everything still smelled new.  He keyed for Zan as he sat back upright.
 
"Yes sir."  His first officer rarely took long to respond to his commander, even in the middle of the night he knew he could always count on his loyal Captain to respond quickly.
 
"Zan."  Qardin paused a moment, biting down on his forefinger, debating if he really wanted to throw his name into the list of personnel banging down Day'ric's door to see him.  There were a couple things he wanted his perspective on, and decided it best to talk with him.  "Schedule a visit with Captain Shallon."
 
"Yes sir."
 
"And Zan, tell them I want to see him today."
 
"Yes sir."
 
Security forces holding Day'ric had to jump through some hoops and upset a few people to get Qardin in to see him, but they made it happen.  Admiral Ackbar had assured him access to the Captain and it's amazing how high people will jump and what kind of time they will make for you when you drop his name in on the debate.  An appointment was granted within the hour and Qardin wasted no time departing Rebel Dream for the surface.  The Jedi, Jenia Vibrose was leaving the holding room as Qardin approached it.
 
"Commodore."  She bowed respectfully as they approached one another.
 
"Master Jedi."  Qardin returned the gesture with a respectful nod.  "How is he?"
 
"Somewhat apprehensive, guarded, I don't believe he's that thrilled about receiving help from a Jedi."
 
"I see, well I won't take up much of his time, besides I'm sure he'd rather spend time with a Jedi than yet another New Republic officer at this point."
 
Jenia laughed at the joke.  "Well if you need me, my name is Jenia."
 
"Thank you."  She bowed one more time before leaving.  Showing proper identification the guards opened the door and admitted the Commodore.  
 
Turning to the door, Day'ric sighed.  "Another one?"
 
Qardin smiled at the remark.  Just as he thought, even he himself would have been tired of all this attention.  Taking no offense he moved to the table anyway.  He motioned for the Zabrak to sit as he settled into his own seat.
 
"Captain, my name is Commodore Starfire.  Forgive me, I know the last person you want to see right now is another officer but I suppose you are just going to have to stomach it for a little while longer.  Let me get to the point here.  I've been picked to lead an operation against the Imperial forces holding Tatooine hostage.  I'm sure this isn't news for you though.  From the endless line of questioning you've received I'm sure you guessed something like this was taking place already."
 
"Something like that.  I don't have anything else I can tell you.  They've already picked my brain clean.  And I guess what they can't draw out of me with you guys, they've sent a Jedi to get the rest."
 
"I see.  Well it's a good thing I didn't come here to drag more details from you then.  Listen I need straightforward answers here.  I've read your reports, read everything you've told our crack team of intelligence officers, and while I'm sure they've done their job, you and I both know, when information gets channeled to the top, it's sugar coated.  I don't need rainbows and lollipops shoved up my ass anymore, so my question to you is simply this."  Qardin leaned forward and slid a datadisk over to the Zabrak, his signature smirk erased from his face.
 
"This is what we are bringing, can we win with this and is it worth the effort?  Keep in mind on top of what you faced there already, the Imps will be bringing re-enforcements for sure."
 
Day'ric took a minute to look over the force size.  It was refreshing to get a straightforward question for once.  Anger stood much in the way of clear thought however.  Looking at the force size and remembering back to his experience on the desert planet, he came to the best conclusion he could.
 
"Do I think it's worth it?  I think you should punish every last one of them for the atrocities they've caused.  As for the forces you are taking, it's hard to tell, I'm sure it's possible, but I can't be sure."
 
He could appreciate the mans honesty.  The stress and trauma was clearly evident in the mans answer.  He suffered a lot on the planet, it's never easy to lose comrades in battle but to add torture on top of it, it was enough to send any man over the edge.  Day'ric slid the disk back over to him.
 
"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more use."
 
"You've been more than helpful, thank you for your honesty."  Qardin took the disk as he stood.  "Day'ric, take your time, if we are to remain the light in the darkness, that leads the way in this galaxy, we will need good pilots like you and your team."
 
Day'ric nodded at the kind gesture, standing himself as the Commodore made his way to the door.  Qardin turned one more time before leaving.
 
"Oh and Captain Shallon, I'd be more than happy to take you into battle with me, any day, I mean that."

Day'ric nodded one more time in appreciation.  Already a busy day Qardin made his way over to the Senate Building.  The Chief of State had just officially ordered the mobilization of the Navy to take Tatooine back by force if necessary.  The Senate was in an uproar over the news and had ordered an emergency session on the matter.  The meeting was already thunderous to Qardin's ears as he entered the building.  Muffled by the walls, shouts of concern could be heard in the breezeways, emanating from the Grand Convocation Chamber.     

"WE ARE STRETCHED TO THIN!"

"WHO CARES ABOUT TATOOINE!  WE CAN'T PROTECT EVERYBODY!"

"THEY HAVE THE RIGHT OF PROTECTION TOO!"

It went on and on.  Leia was able to calm the crowd as best she could, years of diplomacy prepared her to handle an angry crowd on both sides of the fence.  Years of experience also told her, this wasn't the end of the debate either.  Qardin watched and listened as he leaned against the entryway, arms folded across his chest as he observed the squabbling senators.  He could only shake his head and sigh at some of the protests being made.  He slipped back out into the main entryway as the meeting let out, soon the empty space would be flooded with aliens of all shapes and sizes.  He had hoped to catch up with the Chief of State as the crowd bustled past but he was unable to locate her, as chance would have it, he happened to bump into Mahri as she filed out of the grand chamber.

"Wow, Qardin, I didn't expect to find you here."

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Day’ric leaned back, a half-grin on his face. Despite himself, he liked Commodore Starfire. The man was honest. Every other person who had talked to him, fishing for info, had danced around the issues they wanted to talk about. A little honesty went a lot farther on a healing mind than a delicate touch, at least in Day’ric’s case.

The door opened and Jenia stepped in. Day’ric could make out the shadow of Howldan in the hall. Her ever-present guardian. It made Day’ric wonder what her husband had done to inspire such loyalty in the Wookie. Perhaps he owed Haika a life-debt.

“Howldan doesn’t ever leave your side, does he?”

Jenia sat down carefully, a single hand upon her full stomach. She settled, then looked at the Zabrak with her careful eyes.

“My husband is his oldest friend.”

“Does he owe a life-debt to him or something?”

Jenia placed her hands upon the tabletop. Her fingers traced small paths along it. Her eyes followed the movements as she spoke.

“Not quite. I think it’s something deeper than that. I think that Howldan is bonded to my husband. In the way I am bonded with him. Haika’s mind, his soul, is very open. He is good at taking and giving love, and weaving those things together. He is good at making ropes that tie him and the people he loves together.”

Day’ric found his eyes drawn to the movements of her fingers. She continued speaking, but Day’ric couldn’t hear the words. He found himself growing thin. Thin and warm. Almost tired. The air felt like blankets around him. Her hands seemed to fill his entire frame of vision. His breathing grew deep. He was forgetting…forgetting…

He sat up quickly and looked her in the face. “What are you doing?”

She sighed. “I knew I should have warned you.”

“What was that?”

“I call it Speaking. You and Haika are very similar men, you know that? You both ostracize yourselves, disconnect yourselves from others. You both find it hard to connect with people. You just show it in different ways. You show it in a disrespect of authority. He believes himself to be a monster, deep down.”

“What does this have to do with what you just did?”

“Let me finish. Haika never knew his family, his parents. He was a foundling, left to die on Kashykk, raised by a man who was not his father. He never said it out loud, not to me, but somewhere deep down he believes that there is something innately…wrong in him. That his parents couldn’t love him, and so no one can love him. He’s wrong. But it means he finds it hard to connect with people. Over a long time, and many trials, he comes to love a small group of people. And they grow to love him. This love is so rare for him, he binds it permanently. It’s very important to him, and he will protect those people with his life. Always.

“You’re similar, Day’ric. Except you connect to a different group of people in a different sort of way. You connect to the members of your squadron, the men and women you lead. But you make just such a bond with them.

“There are other similarities. You are both more in tune with the physical universe than the metaphysical one. And you both have unquiet minds.

“My husband, he has had a bad past. And he has worse problems than the things that have happened to him. He constantly has to live with the knowledge of what will happen to him, him and the ones he loves. My husband is a seer. He sees visions of the future. They are unclear, but he sees them.

“Usually, these visions are bad. Usually, they come as nightmares. My husband, like you, has difficulty quieting his mind, finding a calm center. He has difficulty finding a link to the pool.”

“The pool?”

“The calm pool of the metaphysical Force. The part of each person that allows them to connect with others, calm themselves. The point of themselves that allows control of emotion.”

Day’ric leaned back. He did have trouble controlling himself.

“When we first met, I saw that he was always on the verge of breaking. Always on the verge of just snapping and killing everyone nearby. That’s the edge you are teetering on now. So I developed a technique. I spoke to him.”

“You spoke to him?”

She nodded. “I just talked. I distracted his mind. I injected just enough of the Force to influence the path he would take. It calmed his mind, induced a meditative trance. Eventually, he came to be able to link to the pool by himself, to meditate and find it without my help. But when the visions came, when he would startle awake, I would hold his head in my hands, hold him against me like a child, and I would Speak. I was like a mother for him, telling bedtime stories to stop the monsters from creeping out from under the bed.”

She stopped, looking beyond Day’ric into the realms of memory.

“He always thought he was protecting me,” she said, “but I was protecting him.”

Day’ric felt a chill in the room. She looked back at him with teary eyes.

“That’s what I am doing with you. Speaking to you. We’ve tried meditation. You can’t do it alone, not yet. Your mind can’t calm itself. But I can Speak to you, lull you into meditation.”

“Be my mother?” He laughed.

Jenia stared through Day’ric. He got the bizarre feeling that she was reading him. Like all of his life was an open book to her.

“You have no mother,” she said, “you ran away from your family. You severed all ties. You are genetically a member of a family, but spiritually, you are the first of a line. You are a son of none.”

Day’ric whispered that. Son of None. It sounded like the name of a ship. He liked it.

“You may just be right.”

“Can I Speak to you again?”

Day’ric sat up. “I think,” he said, “I think that that might be something for later. We have been trying to get me to meditate for days. We haven’t tried…we haven’t tried anything else.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

Day’ric grinned. “We haven’t tried the fun stuff.”


The fun stuff, Day’ric’s mind groaned. He didn’t think it was so fun now.

For a woman six months pregnant, Jenia still moved with a blade better than most ordinary people. He guessed that when she was at her peak, she could defeat any non-Force Sensitive with a blade. He wondered what actual Jedi Swordsmasters must be like.

“Again,” she said. There was one thing Day’ric had noticed. She held herself like she was used to moving like a dancer, but with her pregnancy, she limited herself to simple side-steps, parries and sweep attacks. Moves that required little-to-no strenuous movement. It only made it more embarrassing that she had won every round they had fought. He usually managed to land one hit, but in the time it took him to land that hit, she would hit him three times.

He was happy though. He liked fighting, liked moving. He liked the feeling. While he fought, his mind didn’t run through lists and names. Lists of appointments, names of every person he had fought alongside who died.

He knew how many had been lost on each mission. 5 on the Tatooine mission, 6 if you counted traitors. Back when he was a freelancer, being shifted from group to group, he had seen no less than 30 men die. He knew all their names.

Day’ric stood from his rest position on the floor. He had to drown out those thoughts.

He rushed the Jedi woman. She side-stepped to her left, swinging her practice blade down and catching Day’ric across the back. He spun and swung his blade at her side. She parried it easily, and with a flick, the point of her blade caught his stomach.

“Shorter movements, you are giving the defender too much warning,” she spoke, “connect with the Force. Bind it to your movements. Don’t draw on your own strength, but from the strength of the Force. Your body will grow weary, the Force never tires. Lean on it. Use it. Draw upon it.”

“Size matters not?” Day’ric grunted as he barely defended a quick swing from the Jedi.

“Size matters not,” she affirmed. With almost no effort, she tapped Day’ric’s head with her blade. “Three. We have to stop.”

“Why?”

“Two reasons. We’re getting no where anymore, with you so tired, and you have an appointment with Major Trigger of the NRI.”

Day’ric groaned.

“No groaning. Get cleaned up and meet the major.”

“Yes, mom.” Day’ric spoke sarcastically.

He left. Jenia grinned. She wondered if her son would be as stubborn. As if to affirm the thought, she felt a movement in her abdomen.

She smiled and placed a hand above it.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Usually Mahri wouldn't have taken the time to stop at her apartment and change, but she had only taken a single change of clothes with her on her Returning and at planetfall those clothes had hit the eighteen hour mark.  It was always around hour twenty that Mahri started to feel filmy.  Today was a little different.  Her emotional state was a little more tender than usual.  Fresh from the Returning and from an impromptu and unexpectedly moving reunion.  As her mind was divided, Mahri allowed herself an hour to go home, clean up and redress before comming the Senator.  By the third ring she thought to check the time and instantly regretted it.  Well past the midnight hour and on the fifth ring it was probably too late to just hang up now.

Senator Arama answered mid-sixth ring.  "Mahri?" he guessed.

"Senator, my deepest apologies for calling so late.  I didn't realize the hour when I first commed."

"Don't give it a second thought, Mahri.  I'm glad to know you're back safely.  Will you be able to meet with me in about an hour?  We have some business to discuss."  Arama barely held back a yawn.

"Of course, sir.  Take your time."  She waited for the click signalling Senator Arama's disconnection before yawning herself.  Instinctively she glanced at the time again and decided to fetch a quick bite and a cup of caf before meeting the Senator.

---

Sipping gingerly on her third caf, Mahri leaned back in the polished hide chair in the Senator's office.  As was her habit, Mahri was a few minutes early.

Senator Arama wasn't far behind.  Despite the short warning, Arama had dressed well, choosing a lighter colored suit in hopes of drawing attention away from the sleep deprived circles beneath his eyes.  "Thank you for meeting me, Mahri.  I'm sure you had other things ou wished to be doing at this hour."  He wished to be back in bed, cradling his wife with his face buried in her hair.

Dutifully, she shook her head and opened her mouth to offer yet another apology but Arama jumped right in, "Tatooine has been taken by the Remnant."  He took her stunned silence as a cue to give her the full rundown.  He didn't finish until the first members of staff started trickling in.  At that point Mahri had just enough time to scrounge together a breakfast before she and the Senator were due at the Grand Convocation Chamber.  Arama warned her en route to expect fireworks.  Unfortunately 'fireworks' was an understatement.

---

"How can you sit back and do nothing while Imperials roam the streets of Tatooine?"  Stalle, the Riorian representative from the desert planet cried out.  His voice echoed out from the sound system, amplifying the nasal quality of his voice to shrill levels.

"Let them!  Maybe that ridiculosu desert will finally rid us of the last of the Empire!"

Chief of State Organa Solo called for an end to the bickering by swiftly tapping the microphone in her podium, sending an ear splitting feedback screech through the hall.  "Ladies, Gentleman!  Need I remind you to keep this discussion civil, again?"

"Madame, need I remidn you of the promise of protection granted each planet holding membership in the New Republic?"

"The decision has already been made to assemble a task force to counter the strike on New Republic soil.  The vote needs to be made!"  Chief of State Organa Solo's patience was being tested as the raucous rose to palpable levels.

"We are stretched too think as it is!"

"Who cares about Tatooine?  We can't protect everybody!"

"They have the right to protection too!"

Mahri's head felt like it was splitting open and her gratitude to Senator Arama was unexpressable as he pulled her into the anteroom.  The bickering outside mercifully faded to a more tolerable murmur.

"Mahri, I have a task for you, but you have every right to decline.  I would never send you to harm's way against your will."

She felt her stomach lurch as intuition kicked in.  However, she remained silent, waiting.

"I've been asked by the Chief of State to send you to Tatooine.  She wants an impartial diplomat on hand for peaceful negotiations."  Arama watched Mahri's face carefully, gauging her reaction.  "This is an incredible opportunity for you, Mahri, but it could easily turn dangerous fast.  Please consider it carefully."

Mahri already knew her answer, but the first words from her mouth were bathed in more disdain than even she knew she possessed.  "I am hardly an impartial diplomat where the Empire is concerned, sir."

"I know, Mahri.  If Leia hadn't asked for you personally, I'd go myself."

"Of course, Senator.  I'll go, but perhaps a better choice could have been made."

"Your concerns have been noted.  Thank you."  He looked sad at the last words, as if doubt in this assignment begged for him to change her mind.

Mahri became aware of the change in the noise from the Grand Chamber.  No longer was it the sound of debate and heated emotions but rather a more chaotic noise that signalled the session had been called for the vote, for the day.  Without another word Mahri joined the crowd, intent on reaching home to pack.  Her mind was a jumble of thoughts both serious and seemingly frivolous.  How would she even begin to go about initiating talks with the Imperials she hated so much?  What does one pack for such a trip?  And for how long?  Before the jumble could get any worse, Mahri felt herself gently collide with someone.  "Oh!  I'm so sor-Qardin!  I didn't expect to find you here."

"I was hoping to catch Lei- Chief of State Organa Solo before I leave for Tatooine.  Orders came down and we're waiting on the vote from the Senate.  I'm to take a small fleet to take Tatooine back from the Remnant."

She nodded, "So I gathered from Madame Chief of State's announcement earlier.  I would congratulate you again on the upward motion of your career, but I'm afraid my heart wouldn't be in it."  Her eyes drifted from his.  How did she break the news to a career military man that he was going to be ordered to drag a civilian diplomat along for the ride?  "If you'll excuse me, Commodore.  I have to pack for our mission."  Well, it would seem that's how she would break it to him.

Qardin did a doubletake, "I'm sorry?  Our?"

Just as Mahri turned back to offer an explanation, both of their portable datapads beeped the reception of a message from the Chief of State's office.  The military action had been granted approval by the Senate, she was sending Mahri along to serve as the negotiator, and they were to leave in two hours time.  Once again, Mahri met Qardin's eyes, her own filled with a sympathetic apology.  Before he could protest, she excused herself, "I'll see you in a few hours."

Qardin watched as Mahri deftly wove through the straggling crowd, his mouth agape in a moment of disbelief.  She was gone from view before he thought to protest this addition to his mission, if only for her safety.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Qardin had heard all he needed to hear from planet-side.  After meeting with Day'ric and hearing the news from Leia he was convinced they were taking the right path.  Of course some would oppose the use of military force, especially for a planet of Tatooine's questionable reputation and history.  It was not his place to question it however, he was a military man, his place was to follow the orders of those appointed over him.  These thoughts as well as a million others raced through his mind like a Malastare podrace.  He was finally awaken from his daydream when his shuttle settled to a stop in his ships personal landing bay.  As he descended the boarding ramp, Lightning, his personal fighter caught his eye.  Lightning was a modified Porax-38 starfighter that unlike it's average build was able to seat a much taller pilot.  The fighter had much history before coming into Qardin's possession, it had seen much action during the Clone Wars, a fact Qardin had been proud of.

"She sure is pretty."  Zan said approaching his commander as he looked over his fighter.

"Yes, she sure is."

"I trust everything went well sir?"

"As well as could be expected."

"How did your meeting with Captain Shallon go?"

"It was brief, but I got the answers that had been on my mind for sometime now.  So I'd say it was a productive trip.  I trust you've heard, we depart in a couple hours."

"Yes sir, all the preparations have been made."

"And the fleet?  It's arrived and fully assembled?"

"Yes sir, we have been granted 1 MC40 Light Cruiser, 2 Assault Frigate Mark II's, and 2 CR90 Corvette's."

"Well it's less than what I asked for but I was asking on the high end expecting to get less.  Did they at least give me the Corvettes I asked for?"

"Yes sir, Ession Strike and Constrictor."

"Very good.  Also, we need to make one final preparation before we depart.  We will be departing one passenger heavier than we thought."

"Sir?"

"An Ambassador."  Qardin said smiling.  "I'll explain later.  She should be arriving within the hour, set her up with diplomatic quarters, see to it she receives anything she needs.  And let me know when she arrives."

"Yes sir."

 Zan made his way back to the bridge as Qardin returned to his office.  His office had become somewhat of a second home lately.  He had spent so much time in there recently it's what it felt like.  Designers of his new ship cut no corners making the office comfortable, feedback from hundreds of commanders throughout the galaxy surely went into the design and most of the reason behind it.  Once reaching his office he didn't waste any time, he dove right into the battle plans that would be put to the test in just a few short hours.  He knew all that could be done, was being done.  Just as he finished, his personal comm sounded, the image of his first officer appeared.

"Sir, I wish to inform you that Mahri Sellitna's shuttle has just been cleared to land in the aft docking bay."

"Thank you Zan."

Qardin didn't enjoy having a diplomat on his ship during a pivotal battle but being who it was, he didn't seem to mind.  He found himself eagerly awaiting her arrival.  He shifted a couple times waiting for her to depart the shuttle.  His heart jumped at the first glimpse of her walking down the ramp, he smiled as she made it to the bottom.

"Mahri, we meet again."  He joked as he gave her a welcoming hug.

"Indeed we do."  She exhaled, doing her best to hide how nervous she was about the mission.  She was most definitely out her element here.

"We have you all set up.  Let me help you with your bags."  Qardin began up the ramp but was stopped by a gentle hand on his arm.

"We should probably let the droids handle that."

"Nonsense, no need to wait for droids, I'll be right back."  A few minutes later he returned empty handed, nodding as he spoke.  "We uh, we should let the droids handle that."

She laughed at the remark.  "I'm sorry, I didn't know what to bring."

"Well I'm sure you've got it covered.  I'll show you to your quarters."

Mahri was impressed with her room.  It was a private and relaxing environment, offering an efficient and separate workspace.  Her particular room was unique in both design and services.  It's design created a calm sanctuary inspired by nature's elements: water, earth, wind and fire.  Everything was custom made, beds, armoires, computer desks, lamps, night tables, bar stools.  It even offered a beautiful view of the stars.

"Wow, this is really too much."

"Well it's our diplomatic suite.  And you are…a diplomat, are you not?"

She conceded the point.  Quietly she was glad to receive the accommodations.  Not for the material part of it but because walking into the room made her forget that she was on a warship.

"Well get comfortable, make yourself at home.  If there is anything, anything at all that you need, don't hesitate to ask for it."

His first order of business after getting Mahri settled into her room was to get the fleet underway.  He had been in contact with each of the ships captains, ensuring they were clear on the battle plan, and to field questions or comments.  Once they had all been resolved he gave the order to make the jump to lightspeed.  Mahri had just finished unpacking when she heard a knock at her door.  She was half surprised and half joyful to see Qardin standing there as the door slid open.

"Qardin, what a pleasant surprise.  I just finished unpacking.  Please come in?"

"Actually I was hoping you would join me for a walk, it's a tradition of mine to tour my ship before going into battle.  I thought maybe you would like to join me.  Maybe I can help ease your mind about our mission."

She felt somewhat embarrassed.  "You noticed?"

"It's ok, we all are.  Come, walk with me."

She shrugged, wanting to find an argument against it but she couldn't come up with a reason.  "Sure, why not."

They began with the less glamorous parts of the ship but she didn't mind.  She wasn't like the usual politician.  Everything didn't have to be glamorous or sugarcoated, she actually enjoyed seeing where most of the real work was being accomplished.

"I learned this tradition from my first commander.  He looked at his ship and crew as a family.  He told me it's good to see where your men are coming from.  He believed most commanders don't take the time to stop and smell the roses, so to speak.  Most of us just survey the damage after and not enjoy the beauty before."

"Sounds like a smart man."

"He was."  He took a moment to remember him.  But quickly kept it moving along.  "Like him, I never announce when I do this.  I like to observe the ship in her natural habitat, if you will."  He said with a laugh.

Continuing on, most of the tour reflected back on past history, traditions, and victories.  As it drew to an end her uneasiness about going to war returned and the conversation turned much more serious.

"Qardin, you've been a part of many of the great battles that have shaped the New Republic into what she is today.  Given freedom and hope to those who have none.  But don't you ever get tired of war and death?  Don't you think it's better to talk things out peacefully with our adversaries, instead of destroying them?"

He looked her in the eyes as they stopped in front of her door.  "Mahri, I wish everything could be resolved peacefully, I really do.  People like you are the New Republic's voice, you use that as your weapon.  Sometimes it's a great weapon.  You do many great things for the New Republic, you too have helped shape her into what she is today.  But where you are her voice, I am her sword.  There comes a point when her voice can only do so much and she must use the might of her sword.  We will soon find out which weapon we'll have to use."

"Yes, I guess we will."  She said turning for her door.  She stopped as it slid open, turning to him one final time.  "Thank you for the tour Commodore."

"Thank you for allowing me to.  Now get some rest, you look tired."  It was a point she couldn't argue.  He gave her a gentle squeeze on her shoulder before she disappeared back into her room.  He too thought it best to get some sleep too, things were about to get real busy, real quick.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Willem saw the hyperspace wormhole through the bridge’s telecast view cam, and already he was sick of it.
   
He had been running the plan in his head as soon as he left Bakura. The fleet captains knew what had to be done, but knowing what had to be done compared to actually doing it were two different matters, but unlike most Admirals Willem had complete faith in his subordinate commanders who had integral parts in his plan.
   
However complex it was, he trusted them.
   
He stood tall on the command bridge, standing in some resemblance of parade rest, his eyes locked forward as the crew below him worked hard. But they did not look up or bother their commanding officer as he let his thought simmer.
   
Everything at this point had to be carefully planned and thought out to the point of precision timing. T-minus ten minutes, and all of the troopers in the Hanger Bay were onboard their assigned ships across the entire fleet, just waiting to drop out of hyperspace and land on the surface of the planet. The two unmanned refueling ships were hopefully there with the Strike Cruiser, but he had no idea until they enter the orbit of the planet.
   
“Sir.” The voice of the ship’s actual captain, Octavian Zaafrian, spoke up from behind Willem. He carefully looked over his shoulder, his eyes glancing at his friend.
   
“Yes?”
   
“I’m…” The Line Captain began to speak, but Willem could see what he was worried about. One Star Destroyer, one Victory Star Destroyer, a Tartan Patrol Cruiser and a Strike Cruiser. Willem was beginning to wonder if a Corellian would be stupid enough to bet on the odds of Willem actually succeeding in any sort of battle against New Republic forces. If they were expecting a counterattack, they might as well send in one of the huge ‘victory fleets’ that the New Republic had, because his fleet wasn’t going to do much.
   
He had to rely on borrowed time to fight against the NR and he needed to think up a plan in order to at least survive.
   
“Don’t worry, Zaafrian. It will work.”
   
“…I don’t want to sound doubting, but…”
   
Willem chuckled. He was glad he had a senior officer who questioned the ideas of the people higher than him. He was also glad that he was a part of Willem’s fleet; his outspoken manner would have been dealt with a long time ago in Vader’s Empire.
   
“I don’t like it myself. But we won’t win a standup fight. General Hadric’s men will hold the ground if we hold the sky, and this hinges on something unorthadox.” He started to speak, turning around so his body and face was facing the Line Captain.
   
“You think any of those NR Fleet Admirals know me? Or have any idea how well-trained my crew and men are? They’re going to come into the situation and expect someone like Admiral Dodonna and a few Star Destroyers. They’ve fought him before in large engagements, and they know his tactics; we’re the wildcard here, Zaafrian. The New Republic think they’re facing an old lion who still can fight. We’re going to show them a falcon that has sharp talons.”
   
“…Yes, sir.” Zaafrian spoke, hammering his opinion down with a salute as he snapped to the position of attention, his chest puffed out as he brought up his hand. Willem knew that Zaafrian questioned his orders, but he did it in a manner that was polite and considerate. Willem respected that.
   
Not a lot of officers are like him anymore.
   
“Admiral, one minute until we reach Tatooine.”
   
“Roger, Navigation.”
   
Willem stood up and smiled, remembering a speech from years ago.
   
“You will fight, and you will win. By the might of one, we stand tall. But with the might of all of us…” He trailed, now speaking to himself as he viewed the realm of Hyperspace in front of him. His hand reached out, seemingly distracting, causing the ship’s XO to become distressed. Lieutenant Commander Jenkins watched as Line Captain Zaafrian walked towards him on the command deck. As the crew stations were busy hard at work, the venerable friend of Willem’s motioned him to follow.
   
As they left the Command Bridge, Willem stared at space.
   
“T minus three minutes sir.”
   
Time began to go even slower…

   
    
The Star Destroyer exited hyperspace with the fleet around it, the large vessels acting as if space was pulling them across the blackness of its vast fields of stars. The Star Destroyer pierced the heavens like a dagger cutting through soft linen; it effortlessly turned its large shape towards the planet of Tatooine in a soft but determined route of clearance. Around it were the Victory Star Destroyer Warhammer and the Tartan Patrol Cruiser and anti-snubfighter frigate Muunilinst. Across it, already in orbit and in battle formation was the Strike Cruiser Stryker, a shuttle already launched from within its hanger as soon as the Nightbringer exited the tunnel of hyperspace.
   
The Star Destroyer stopped moving once it achieved orbit around the planet of Tatooine, large and small shuttles immediately leaving its hanger and heading straight for the planet to deploy its surface garrison. The three Galleons were already in formation, the orders of Willem’s battle plan having reached the various captains of the vessels via Willem’s ISB officer and fellow Patriot Colonel Betruger on the Stryker. Two odd-looking ships left the Nightbringer and moved around it, achieving not only orbit with the planet of Tatooine but a standard set distance from the Nightbringer herself. A long tube shot out from the side of the ship, attaching to port holes opened up and releasing nothing from the ship itself.
   
Suddenly, purple and colorful plasma vented from the ship, being resupplied by the two other ships.
   
“If we can maintain a steady flow from the energy refueling ships, we can maintain plasma venting for another three hours. Hyperspace Patrol Craft Blue Hound already detected hyperspace murmurs across the lanes heading in this direction. Colonel Betruger’s craft also just arrived, sir.” Commander Jenkins reported, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood on the command deck behind Willem, all of the crew wearing the standard garrison covers associated with battle duty on board a starship.
   
“Good. Then don’t bother deploying mines. I think we’re all set…now we pray.”
   
“Yes, sir.” Commander Jenkins acknowledged, positioning his body to attention and giving off a smart salute before walking away.
   
Willem stared out into space, and then he bit his lip, remembering a long ago memory and trying to suppress the sadness. It was coming up to the date where he met Elina, and like all of those years before he would try to get her out of his head by crying and letting his emotions take a hold of him if he was not coming into battle. And today, he was. He gripped his hands and breathed in, remembering all sorts of data and tidbits of info for the operation to come.
   
1) Lure them in.
   
2) Set the trap.
   
3) Sprung it.
   
4) Surround
   
5) Force to surrender or parlay
   
He was focusing this gambit to rely solely on a typical viewpoint of NR politics; they thought they would win, and they think that Dodonna himself, or one of his known underlings, will take command here. Not a seasoned veteran of the Galactic Civil War and the Commander of the Pirate Campaigns. His plan was relying on the fact that they would be facing something new and challenging; something to throw them off-kelter when they reach the space around Tatooine.
   
To see something of a defenseless Star Destroyer undergoing repairs would be something to grab their attention. His fighter pilots needed to sell the idea that they were protecting the ship and the planet. His crew needed to act panicked when the force arrived. Everything had a plan within a plan, but the plans themselves were simple and easy to carry out. No overreaching campaign where one domino falls to another, but one where one checker can move across a board and conquer five pieces easily. He was not Thrawn, and his plans did not rely on small notches and feints.
   
He was not a genius. But experience often proves valuable.
   
“Sir, Warhammer reports ready for the plan.” The Communications Officer spoke from below the command bridge, working from his station and doing another job as well, Willem only nodding as he viewed space.
   
“Muunilinst reports all ready and standing bye.”
   
“All squadrons standing by, sir.”
   
“Refueling Squadron Zeta, performing operation now.”
   
“This is Lambda Shuttle Land-down, passenger dropped off and proceeding home.”
   
“Star Galleon squadron reports all ready.”
   
The fleet was ready. Willem now was fully prepared to engage the fleet that would come for them. His hands clasped behind his back more tightly now, waiting for the enemy fleet come and greet him in the heat of battle. He would throw himself at him, and be aggressive. He also, however, let himself be grounded and also be defensive if the time needed. He did not have units to throw around carelessly.
   
He stared at the blanket of stars and sighed.

“But with the might of all of us…we will emerge as Angels, and scour the heavens in search for honor…courage…commitment.” He finished his quote from before, tapping his chin as he sighed deeply. He thought about the operation, what needed to happen, how it needed to happen, who was running each ship, ectera and ectera…
   
“I’m in deep gundark shit if this goes haywire…”

He smiled.

"Good thing I'll kick ass either way." He murmured to himself, his smirk changing to a grin as he felt excitement tingle up his spine. He was getting ready to fight again. It felt good.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

“How have you been sleeping?”

“Fine.”

“It’s just…well, Nalla, you look very tired.”

“I’m in a relationship that doesn’t leave much time for sleep.”

“You’re seeing Captain Shallon, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. It says that he has been limited in his access to the rest of the squadron until they can determine him safe.”

“So?”

“Why haven’t you been sleeping, Nalla?”

The psychologist leaned forward, resting her chin on the tips of her fingers.

Nalla, like everyone in the squadron, had to make daily visits to the psychologists. The others said that they were progressing well, that they would only have to see the shrinks once a week from now on.

No such luck for Nalla.

Maybe it really was hard to make progress if you lied.

The nightmares had been keeping her up. She tried not to think of them, of the darkness of the cells, of Gonnlar’s body staring up at her. But the nightmares came. And she would start awake, finding herself near tears. She would pull herself to a bathroom, lock herself in a stall and cry until she knew that she could leave and not be seen.

She hadn’t said a word about nightmares, or the crying, or that she refused to let the medics give her shots (although she was sure that the shrink knew that). She hadn’t mentioned anything about not talking with anyone for days at a time, and then not being able to leave people. Or the mood swings. Or anything.

She didn’t like the shrink.

She sat there, wordless.

The shrink repeated her question. Her voice was calm and kindly, like all psychologists. Nalla knew the woman probably had better things to be doing.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Nalla remained silent.

“Are you having trouble falling asleep? Or are you being woken up?”

Nothing.

“Are you having nightmares?”

More nothing.

“Listen Nalla, I can’t help you if you won’t talk.”

“You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk. Doctor Ellis, I don’t want to be helped by you. I don’t want to be helped by anyone. The only one who went through anything like what I went through isn’t allowed talking to us when he wants to. I’m not allowed to see him when I want to. I can’t talk to the man I love because he’salways being followed around by a goddamn Jedi, who acts like he’s her apprentice. Her frakking Padawan frakking learner. I don’t want to be helped by you. I want to be helped by him.”

The doctor took off her glasses and laid them on her desk. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“What?”

“Call me Caspia, please. Not Doctor Ellis.”

Nalla looked the human up and down. A faint memory tinged her thoughts, a conversation with Day’ric. The idle mention of a childhood playmate. Red hair, human, named Caspia…

“You were friends with Day’ric when you were kids…” Nalla whispered.

The Doctor nodded once. “I was. I was given your case because I know him. Or knew him. Before he disappeared, and before my family went broke. I can understand him, and I can understand you through him. I want you to trust me.”

“Why?”

Caspia looked down at her datapad. “Your family has a history of mental illness. Your father suffered from paranoid personality disorder, depression and obsessive-compulsive disorder, your mother was known to suffer from bipolar disorder. You yourself have evidenced early signs of your father’s depression. Often, people with signs of depression or bipolar disorder will be struck more…harshly with PTSD. We want to keep you safe.”

“What do you mean ‘safe’?”
“Have you been having nightmares? Have you been experiencing mood swings? Sudden and unexplained fits of weeping? Unexplained feelings of sadness, grief and anger?”

Nalla remained silent.

“Nalla, this is the most important question I am going to ask you. Please, please answer me. Have you contemplated hurting yourself or others?”

Nalla was silent for a minute. Then she spoke.

“Yes.”

“How?”

Nalla bit her lip. “Sometimes, at night, I…”

“You dream about Tatooine?”

“Yes. I have nightmares. And I wake up and I realize that it was all my fault that we were captured, that if I had let Freud…do what he wanted to…he wouldn’t have left. The Imperials wouldn’t have known where we were going to be…Gonnlar never would have been killed.”

Tears were streaming down her face. She was being honest, for once.

“Everything we went through was because I didn’t man up and let that dirtbag frak me.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“And now I can’t look at a frakking needle without thinking I’m going to be injected with something that makes my whole body burn. I can’t look at my friends without remembering what I put them through. I feel empty…right here…right goddamn here…”

She slapped her chest.

“And I think that the Galaxy would be better off if I just…just…”

“What? If you did what?”

“I don’t even know…something…anything…just to drown out the frakking dreams, get this grief off me.”

Caspia leaned forward, the care in her eyes visible. She stood, made her way around the desk and kneeled in front of Nalla, taking the twi’lek’s hands.

“Nalla, have you been thinking of killing yourself?”

“I don’t know…I don’t know…”

“Nalla, nothing that happened there was your fault. Nothing.”

“Why can’t I believe you?”

“Nalla, you need someone to help you. I’m sorry that I’m not Day’ric. I’m sorry that he couldn’t be here to be that person. But please, let me help you.”

Nalla nodded.

“Good girl.”

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Lieutenant Colonel Kaasi Muul walked in to his office at the 66th Infantry Regiment Headquarters. The middle-aged man was not dressed in his typical dress uniform; but was dressed in Rebel combat fatigues. The combat fatigues were lined with a light shawl that was covered in desert camouflage. The only thing denoting his rank was the bars on his collar lined with four dots in an almost triangular pattern. He had his DLT-20A blaster rifle strapped to his right shoulder, it was also covered in desert camouflage. He sat down at his desk and turned on the console there. He clicked through a few files and uploaded a document he intended to use for the briefing he was to give the officers of his battalion. The aging Colonel had not given a briefing in some time, but was confident he still had the skills to do so. He checked the chronometer on the left wall of his office and noted the time, he still had an hour until he had to brief the men, but he liked to be early.

After uploading the document, he took a cigarra from the case in his pocket and lit it. The strong smoke filled his lungs as he inhaled it. Kaasi smiled; he enjoyed his cigarras and always had the best. He walked out of his office and grabbed his comlink off of his belt.

“Kanto, gather the officers and have them meet me in the briefing room,” said Kaasi quickly as he walked towards the room.

“Yes sir,” replied the Major in his Nautolan accent.

Kaasi got to a turbo lift and went down a level. He smoked the last drag of his cigarette, stomped it out and put it in a waste bin He walked down three doors to the briefing room he had scheduled and unlocked the door. As it slid open, the lights flickered on and a circular table was visible in the middle of the room. On the walls were various consoles and technologies. Kaasi walked to the table and went to the holoprojector. He clicked until the planet section was visible and typed in Tatooine’s coordinates. The pale, brown dust ball showed up small at first, but then Kaasi clicked a few more buttons and the planet became large. He added a grid to it and has small orbs for the inhabited settlements. He then took his data pad in hand and scrolled through the various documents until he got to the After Action Report for White Shadow Squadron’s stay on Tatooine. It wasn’t very helpful but it gave a brief outline of what to expect.

Kaasi went to another holoprojector and brought up a large topographical map of settled Tatooine and put the same grid on it. He stood for a few minutes awaiting Major Rall and the other officers in his battalion to show up. As they filed in every one of them saluted and Kaasi saluted back.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen. Lets get to work. See this dust ball here? That is the reason I am dressed in desert camo. Evidentially those slimy Imperials want it and took it. Now we are going to be going there with a whole bunch of our men to take it. What we know about their forces there is minimal. But we can expect heavy resistance from AT-AT and AT-ST units, along with several garrisons of stormtroopers which one of them is at Mos Eisley and the other ones are no where to be seen. Now we are to be arriving shortly after Commodore Starfire and his fleet attack the Imperial fleet orbiting Tatooine and occupying the system. This means we get to take the Banthas. For those of you who have never seen one, they are heavily armed and heavily shielded dropships that are perfect for planetary assault,” explained Kaasi as he brought up a holo of the dropship, “these are the horses we are riding into battle on, and what damn fine horses they are.”

“Now here is where out expected landing zone will be,” continued Kaasi as he gestured to a square on the highest point in Tatooine, “this landing zone is code named ‘Landing Zone Delta Nathaniel Green’. If any of your dropships go down, engrain this into your men that they must some how get to ‘Landing Zone Delta Nathaniel Green’. You will all be provided holos to brief your companies with. Any questions?”

Kaasi answered several questions about when the invasion was going to happen, how large are the garrisons, will there be Darktroopers? And other logistical and tactical questions. For the most part he was slightly clueless about what to expect so he rambled on about how the 66th Infantry Regiment is one of the most high echelon units in the New Republic’s arsenal and that they have been through planetary landings since these men and women were in diapers. But in truth, the Colonel was worried about what would happen if Commodore Starfire’s fleet did not succeed and what would happen if they were stuck on that sand ball with limited supplies and no air support. But as the briefing came to a close, he went back to his office and tried to look up answers for all of those questions. He really wanted to answer all of those questions, because he wanted to prepare his battalion; no his family for what they were about to embark on doing.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

“Major Trigger?”

“Day’ric Shallon?”

“Yessir.”

“Please, sit.”

Day’ric sat down across the table from the man and studied him.

Major Trigger, first name as yet unknown, was a round man of indeterminate age. He had a thin nose upon which perched half-moon spectacles, his face was creased with time, but his hair was still as red as it would have been in his youth. His lips were feminine, but the moustache he wore was anything but. It was a thick, although well-groomed, monstrosity. The thin beard Trigger wore seemed all the smaller because of it.

Day’ric sniffed. The man smelt of cheap alcohol and ciggara smoke. Not a completely bad smell, but different from many officers.

“I’ve spoken to two others from NRI,” Day’ric said, “and god knows how many from whatever commands there are. I didn’t know there were so many officers in the New Republic. Why do I need to tell another person about my time on Tatooine?”

Major Trigger shifted in his seat and reached into a pocket. He pulled out a gold ciggara case engraved with a single “D”. He opened it and placed a ciggara between his lips. He offered one to Day’ric, who looked at them momentarily before also taking one. Trigger snapped the case shut and returned it to his pocket. As he reached for his lighter, he spoke.

“I’m not here about Tatooine. That strike is already underway.”

Day’ric raised an eyebrow as the Major lit their smokes.

“What are you here about then? If you mind me asking.”

“Not at all. I’m here about you.”

“Mmm?”

Trigger reached under his chair and pulled out a briefcase. He undid the clasps and opened it. He removed a datapad and a file, placed them on the table before him, then closed the briefcase and returned it to its spot under the chair.

Trigger opened the file and lifted the first page.

“Acting-Captain (Soon to be Captain, if his case is written off) Day’ric “Blue Omega” Shallon, White Shadow Squadron. Born to influential parents. Runaway. Known criminal in various small-time gangs. Made a living as something of an artful dodger, picking pockets and leading a crew. Joined the Rebellion as a talented pilot, has logged several hundred hours of flight time. Helped take out a somewhat…dangerous pirate fleet over Nar Shadaa and led the scouting of Tatooine. Currently in a relationship with fellow pilot Nalla Frontierus. Being trained by Jedi Knight Jenia Helkat Vibrose.”

“That is the least interesting file I have ever heard. Can’t NRI dig up something better?”

Trigger raised an eyebrow. He turned the page and read, his voice so quick he didn’t seem to breath. “Has had a preference for Twi’leks since he was 15, heavy smoker and drinker, prefers ales and whiskeys, detests any form of wine. Once impregnated a young woman on a Zabrak colony, managed to get her an abortion under the assumed name Tamik Haluk. Drinks his caffa black, will occasionally add booze if he thinks no one is looking. Got drunk on his twentieth birthday and beat up a bartender, charges were dropped because the bartender was using the bar as a front for drugs and didn’t want to get caught.” Trigger looked up. “Those are the least juicy secrets.”

“Okay, you have my attention.”

“Yesterday, your psychological profile landed on my desk, as well as your record.”

“Yeah?”

“It was of extreme interest to myself and several other intelligence officers, who shall not be named.”

“Fine. Why?”

“Last year, myself and my partners developed an idea that we brought to our superiors. It made it’s way up the ranks, being somewhat of a touchy subject.”

“Okay…”

“Well, I’ll give you the short version. We are putting together a team. A small group, no more than five highly trained individuals. We want you on that team. Your psychological profile and record match what we need for team leader.”

Day’ric blew a stream of smoke into the air.

“What would this team be doing, exactly, that makes it a touchy subject.”

“That isn’t exactly something I can just talk about unless I am sure I have your full participation.”

“And I can’t exactly give you full participation unless I know what I’ll be doing.”

Trigger blew smoke into the air. “I can tell you that you’d be helping the New Republic get some very dangerous people off our worlds.”

“Mmm…”

“Besides,” Trigger grinned, “the work comes with some very nice benefits. A nice apartment here on Coruscant, top priority security clearance, rank and file that you wouldn’t get in your current line of work.”

Day’ric lifted an eyebrow. “All this because you read my psyche report?”

“Actually, we’ve been watching you for a while. The psyche report was just the qualifier.”

Day’ric leaned back. “I can see the catch already.”

Trigger matched Day’ric’s posture. “And?”

“I’d have to leave the Shadows.”

“Naturally. But we hear things. Rumor has it your Squadron might not last long anyways. Command isn’t fond of the expenditure it has had to make because of your little outburst.”

Day’ric grunted.

“However, we are willing to let you bring Fey’lya with you. We are also looking into Jagurr, that Gand you picked up.”

“I’m sorry,” Day’ric stood and put out his cigarra on the table. “I can’t just leave everybody else. I need to be certain what is going to happen to my team before I sign up for some unknown mission for NRI.”

“Understandable,” Trigger also stood. He took a card from his pocket and handed it to Day’ric.

Day’ric looked at the simple thing. All white, with two lines of text in black, reading:


“In case you decide to join up,” the Major spoke.

“What does this mean?”

“You’ll find out if you need it.”

Day’ric pocketed the card and saluted the Major loosely. The Major saluted back, and Day’ric left.

As the Zabrak exited the room, Major Donald “Delirium” Trigger grinned. He had made the right call with Shallon, and it was only a matter of time before the man was won over. He packed his briefcase, put out his cigarra and left.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Caspia was quite unlike what Nalla had expected of a shrink. After that first day, she had refused to take their meetings inside, rather bringing the both of them to nearby gardens. How she had discovered the place, Nalla would never know, but she was happy for it. Someone had walled off a small chunk of Coruscant and had managed to cultivate a proper little spot of nature on the roof of some building or other below, or perhaps a walkway. It was open to the public, but the entrance looked like the door to any apartment or warehouse, and was wholly unnoticed by anyone but Nalla and Caspia. A quiet place where they could talk.

There were trees in the area, still in the lack of breeze caused by the walls. A few were blossoming, tossing petals, pink and blue and orange, on the ground, which was covered in grass and flowers. Nalla liked that. Grass was as far away from Tatooine as possible. Flowers helped wash the stench of that place from her nostrils. The feel of a petal brushing against her lekku reminded her of Day’ric’s gentlest touch, and the heat from the sun calmed her. She was more open to speech here.

“Can you tell me what it was like?”

Caspia’s voice. Softer than the grass. Barely a breeze.

Caspia. Outside of her office, Nalla could get a good look at her. Short red hair, wide eyes, soft features. Beautiful, although that word seemed almost too harsh to describe her.

“What what was like?”

“Living with your father. I’d like to get an idea of it, beyond reports.”

“That and it is your job.”

“No, my job is to get you over your PTSD. I don’t need to know anything about your father for that. I’m just interested.”

Nalla lay back and stared at the trees above. One day they would grow higher than the wall and then people would come here and ruin the whole thing.

“My father was a good man, but harsh. My mother died when they tried to have a second kid, and I was all that was left. He was poorer than poor. He sold salvage, droid parts, but had no skills in building them, and so couldn’t even put one together and get a better price. So he had nothing but a warehouse that was falling apart and me.”

“That must have been hard for him. Why did he come to Coruscant if that was the case?”

“He thought it would make a better life for his family. That he could open a restaurant or nightclub or something and make lots of money and help his family. He spoke no basic, and this was during Imperial rule, and he was misguided.”

“He wanted to open a nightclub?”

“He liked mixing drinks. The problem was that he had his paranoia. He couldn’t trust anyone who tried to help. The contractors who were to convert the warehouse. The translators who were helping him. The bankers. The ones in charge of permits. The licensers. He went broke paying for them and then firing them on suspicion.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Regardless, it was before I was born. Then my mom died and he had me, this little girl, almost a baby still. And I was always sick, because he couldn’t afford proper food, not until he started renting out the warehouse space to minor swoop gangs to hide. They paid him something, and he looked the other way. We lived in the office off the back.”

“What was that like?”

“Most of my memories are of that room. Back then, it took me 5 steps to cross one way, seven the other. It’s probably two one way and 3 the other now. No more than 6 feet by 9 feet. There was a desk, my father slept on it, and he put a mattress underneath, and I slept there. Like bunks. The refresher hardly worked half the time, so he used to keep a bucket off to the side at night and he would empty it somehow in the morning. We had a small stove in one corner, and he bought all our food fresh and stored it only for a day in the cupboards. There were no doors on the cupboards. The windows were high up, near the ceiling. One above the desk and one across from the door. One of them didn’t close right, and let a breeze in, which was usually okay. There was a broken hologram projector, an old clunky one that must have been built by a teenager. Dad could never sell it. The door is what I remember clearest.”

“Why?”

“When I got older, it was the most important thing. When I was little, dad wasn’t so bad. He let me talk to the swoop gangs and play with neighborhood children. I liked sneaking into apartments, not to take things, just to look around and say I did it. It was hard, because my neighbors had droids, or at least most of them did. Most had some of my dad’s salvage in them.”

“What happened?”

“The Rebellion won, when I was 13. I was still a girl, just growing into a woman. I was dreaming of dancing. I liked moving. I always felt trapped by my father. I couldn’t do things like most children. Go to school, that sort of thing. I learned Basic from a man named Dorian who lived next door in an apartment that our roof pressed near. I would sit on the roof and he would sit in his apartment and we would talk.

My dad got really suspicious, really quickly. His paranoia got terrible. He was so used to the Imps, his mind just cracked. He swore that the Rebellion would steal his girl and make her be a soldier because she was an alien and a woman and the Imperials scoffed at that, but the Rebels would steal her. He locked me in that room, no escape. It was too small for me, then, far too small. Like living in a box. So many times I tried to slice the locks my dad put on it, but I was never any good.”

“You were there for 2 years, correct?”

“Yeah. Until my dad died. His brain just shut down one day. Couldn’t take the stress and the paranoia and a blood clot caused an aneurism or something. He keeled over in the street and never woke up. Someone managed to get the door open and let me out.”

“Can I say something without you getting angry?”

“I’ll need to hear what you have to say first.”

“I think I understand something about you now.”

“What?”

“This depression isn’t inherited, at least not entirely. You were imprisoned in your formative years, and Tatooine was a reversion. You felt like a child again, became yourself at 13. You are stuck in that now. You never had experiences that form most people’s early lives, and it has you stunted. You have grown to be dependent on others, because of your father giving you no independence. It’s why you fell into Day’ric’s arms so quickly after meeting him. He is a strong man, a powerful man, and you felt he could protect you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I can’t get rid of your PTSD, not right now. We have to deal with your bigger issue first.”

“My daddy issues?” Nalla laughed.

Caspia remained silent for a moment. “Your fear of that room. Your fear of growing up and becoming truly independent. We have to find that warehouse, and you have to face that room and step out yourself. You can’t rely on other people for everything, or every problem in the world will become a problem you caused.”

Nalla rolled over and glared at Caspia. “I don’t think you understand a frakking word coming out of your mouth. I’ve done everything I can to become independent.”

“You think. There’s a lot more under the surface, and you won’t see it until we face the place that birthed your fears.”

“She’s right, you know.”

A voice from the entrance. Both women shot to their feet and turned to the speaker. She was a tall woman, dark haired and flat-faced. Not exactly attractive, but also not quite ugly. Just unbelievably nondescript. A scar trailed it’s way down from the corner of her mouth, down her neck, disappearing into her shirt. She wore a plain white tank-top and heavy cargo-pants.

“Who the frak are you?”

“Call me Dom,” the woman sneered.

“We were having a private conversation Dom,” Caspia spoke harshly.

“If you wanna have a private convo, don’t go to a public park, alright? Doesn’t matter, though. I’m here to talk with Lieutenant Frontierus. Was sent by a guy named Don Trigger. Some Major or something.

“What right do you have?” Caspia asked.

“The right of someone who has a higher rank than either of you,” Dom grinned, pulling dog tags from beneath her shirt, “especially you, Cassie. You’re a civie.”

Caspia grunted.

“Now, if you’d just step outside, the Lieutenant and I are going to speak alone.”

Caspia looked the Captain up and down, then left, bumping hard into Dom as she left. As she reached the door, she turned and spoke.

“I’ll be right outside, Nalla.”

Nalla nodded and Caspia left. Dom walked up to her and looked her up and down.

“Aren’t you a sight, then. Good-looking, strong. Infiltrator make. Too bad the profile doesn’t fit, the team could use a nice face to get us into places.”

“What team?”

“Not your problem. I’m here to talk to you about your future.”

“What?”

“Listen, buzz is going around of disbanding the Shadows. The amount of casualties you’ve racked up in two missions, the expense to get you guys back into working order, not worth it. So we’re opening up some avenues, laying them down before the whole squadron is done.”

“Fine. Get to the frakking point.”

“Fond of that word, eh? Heh. Anyways, I have some…career advice for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Captain Shallon is very important to my boss, and it is extremely important to the both of us that our business with him works out. You see, Day’ric is perfect for what we have to do. No one else holds a candle to his profile. We need him. But there are…a few things in the way.”

“Like what?”

“Like you. You see, if all this works out, he’ll be cutting more than a few ties. He’ll be disappearing for lack of a better term. A new man. You think I was born looking like my face was pressed against glass, think again. I chose to look like this when I was scouted. And what sort of name is ‘Qesti Dom’? Honestly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You need to do what the shrink says, exactly what she says, when she says it. Get over your little dependence issues and grow up. You’ll realize that you can live without Day’ric. If you can come to this conclusion, my boss will make sure you are very comfortable for a very long time. If you decide you can’t live without Shallon, but still sign off on him becoming…remade all invisible-like, you may even get to visit. But if you can’t let go of him, things will become very harsh, very quick. Understand?”

“You want me to end things with Day’ric?”

“Not end them. Just loosen them so that he can disappear for a while and not have any guilt holding him back. So buck the frak up, princess. Get sane, get sane quick, and let Day’ric save an assload of people. Or you may be the one who disappears for a while.

With that, Dom turned and left. Nalla hissed angrily.

An encounter like that was not going unpunished.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Major Adan made his way down the narrow gangway outside the officer's quarters, massaging his temples as he walked. He had a headache, nothing new there, but this one was something special, a vise grip across his temporal lobes that made him feel like he'd been struck across the head. The greasy smear of breakfast down the back of his throat hadn't helped to add to it.
 
The stress and lack of sleep getting the Empire's forces together to anticipate the unevitable had taken a toll on him. The six AT-AT's were now ready for a proper defense of Tatooine's main spaceport, Mos Eisley. It was the most logical target the Rebel Alliance would most likely attempt. He'd been awake even before the governor's summons came through. After working another shift last night, he'd toppled into his bed inside his quarters early this morning and lapsed into restless unconsciousness, but two hours later the abrupt alarm had awakened him. He was still entitled to several more hours of sleep. So why the alarm?

Adan had gotten dressed, grabbed some lukewarm caffa and a reheated bantha patty from the mess, and headed down the hall toward the governor's office, hoping to build up enough mindless momentum to keep him going as far as he needed.

To his right the turbolift doors opened. Three other stormtroopers came out, falling into step behind him. They had to walk single file to fit comfortably down the hall. Major Adan didn't break stride or even glance back at them.

"Sir. A quick word with you, Major?" one of the stormtrooper's voices piped up, after a respectful pause, "we were wondering if you could shed a little light on what's going on."

Adan shook his head, still not looking back. "What's that?"

"I heard the Rebels are heading here to take back Tatooine as we speak," the trooper put in. "Word is we just have enough firepower to keep them at bay for a few days only. Will the Admiral send help?"

One of the troopers sniggered. "A dusty planet outside the Outer Rim Territories with just a small garrison, I'm sure we're top priority for Admiral Dodonna."

"All right." Major Adan snapped a glance up at them. "Belay that tone, understand?"

They suddenly became quiet. Adan cleared his throat and answered. "I'm here to see the governor about the situation. If anything needs to be addressed to the troops, you will be informed. Dismissed."

Nobody spoke the rest of the way to the governor's palace.

+++

"First the bad news," Governor Tol began. He was standing in his usual position, hands clasped behind his back, looking out the large palacial windows of the mansion. "Our Star Galleons have assessed their supplies, weaponry, and ammunition. There is enough firepower for them to hold the Rebel forces at bay for about a few days– at least before reaching Tatooine– depending on how large the fleet they encounter. You reported that our forces here on the surface should hold out quite a while if we dig in deep enough, correct?"

Major Adan nodded. "If we conserve our ammo and supplies, our defense forces should be able to hold them off for a few more days until we are overrun by the enemy."

"Good," the governor continued. "Then there is a positive side."

He turned slowly to face him. "It seems our plea for help was successful. A transmission was received a few hours ago from an Imperial fleet," Tol said, "a few Star Destroyers actually, within this same system. They are making their approach here as we speak."

Tol paused here, apparently in anticipation of applause or at least a relieved sigh, but Adan just looked at him.

"So who is going to arrive here first?" Adan asked. "If the Rebels are, then we would have to hold them off until the Imperial fleet arrives– if they make it on time to defend us."

The governor didn't answer for a moment. He touched his chin, fingering it thoughtfully, a pompous and disaffected gesture Adan had seen more than enough times and had come to loathe in his own special way. "Well, then we will have to make the most of it. Our forces must stand until their arrival. We have no choice. You said our ground forces can hold for a few days?"

"Yes. Why?" Adan wanted to know.

"With our three Star Galleons holding them off and our ground forces, we should have about a week's time before we run out of supplies and count our losses. That should be enough time for them to arrive and wipe out the Rebels."

"I just hope this Admiral Von Aath is as good as Dodonna says he is. We need all the help we can get," Adan emphasized.

"Trust in our forces, Major," Tol replied with a smile. "You seem to underestimate them. Now…" Tol reached over and gave the major a small datadisc.

"The disc I have given you will list all the positions I want our ion and laser cannons placed. It should be enough to defend our spaceport in case we need to make a hasty escape if all is lost."

"I don't plan on losing, Governor Tol." Major Adan stressed.

"Good. Then you have your orders. You are dismissed…"

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

New Years Eve on Coruscant. A night which, in the past, Day’ric had celebrated with such verve and enthusiasm he couldn’t remember the past five. That was perhaps for the better, because if Day’ric’s record when mostly sober was anything to go by, the things he would do while drunk should probably stay a mystery.

On this particular night, however, he found himself forcing his way into a dress uniform. This was the first time he had worn one since the “forcible removal” of his arm, and he was finding the robotic replacement uncooperative being shoved into the jacket’s sleeve.

“You should get that tailored.”

Day’ric turned. Jenia stood in his doorway, smiling. She reminded him of his aunt Cle’oa, a little. Both of them had a gentle kindness, a very motherly personality. Day’ric could understand how Haika Vibrose had married her so soon after meeting her. She was very beautiful, wearing a blue-green dress and with her hair pulled back from her face. She, unlike a lot of women at fancy dress parties in her condition, did not try and diminish or hide her pregnant belly, but worked with it instead. She seemed to be saying “I’ll be a mother soon, and that’s all that matters right now,” and it worked for her.

Day’ric laughed. “Yeah, yeah. You know I wear this thing so often that I just need to shell out the credits.”

Jenia stepped up to him and took the jacket. She turned him around and helped him into it.

“Sarcasm is an unattractive quality, young man.”

“Bah, you should have seen my mother,” Day’ric grinned, “everything she said was sarcastic. For the first ten years of my life, I just thought some people spoke backwards.”

“Some people do.”

Day’ric turned back around, buttoning up the jacket. The buttons only went up to his navel, a point of disgust among many officers. Between that and the red, white and black color-scheme, Day’ric thoroughly hated it. He found the belt and strapped it on.

“I didn’t think Jedi were allowed to dress up all fancy.”

Jenia chuckled. “I’m still a woman, Day’ric. Obviously.”

She waved a hand at her bulging stomach.

Day’ric held out his arm to her and she took it. He led her into the hall and towards the central ballroom of Fleet Command. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have gone to some New Years’ Officers Ball, but he hardly had a choice. Firstly, he was confined to Command. Secondly, Jenia was making him. Thirdly, the remnants of his squadron were to be going, and he hadn’t seen them in what felt like weeks. Day’ric was eager to see his friends, even more eager to speak with Nalla. His meeting with Major Trigger had been on his mind fairly consistently over the past few days and he wanted to hear her thoughts on it.

They entered the ballroom. An expansive domed room with one half of its circumfrance open to a balcony that gave a view of the Coruscant skyline. Servers in high-collared shirts walked through the room carrying platters of various culinary feats. Day’ric was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the brass in the room were lower-ranking officers like himself. The higher-ups were probably spread across various venues around Coruscant, attending various parties held by various politicians and businesspeople. Day’ric had a vague memory of his parents holding such events for Imperials when he was a child. He and the sons and daughters of his parent’s various business partners and peers would play massive games of hide-and-seek, and would steal the good food meant for the parents from the buffets in the main hall. Day’ric could probably lend some of his later success as a petty thief to those games.

As they entered, Jenia let go of his arm, Day’ric looked around.

“I forgot to ask,” he said, “will Howldan be joining us tonight?”

Jenia laughed. “Hell no, that Wookie hates crowds. Be assured that he’s somewhere nearby, watching.”

“Wait, Wookies can be stealthy?”

Jenia grinned. “Howldan occasionally takes jobs as a private investigator. Mostly following around rich people. He’s gotten good at not being seen.”

Day’ric nodded. A passing Nautolan server offered them champagne. Jenia, of course, declined, but Day’ric grabbed a flute and downed it in a shot. The Nautolan furrowed his brow in surprise as Day’ric replaced the flute and took another, winking as he did so. Day’ric sipped at this one, so the Nautolan nodded and moved off. Day’ric waved a hand into the center of the room.

“Shall we mingle?”

Jenia laughed and once again took Day’ric’s arm. They moved into the room. Day’ric recognized a few of the captains and commodores in the room, and had served under one of the Rear Admirals. He was less familiar, of course, with the groundpounders in the room, but was pretty sure he had met a colonel and two majors. He was most familiar with an Omwati captain named Tik Dwu. He was head of the Hagworm Squadron, a group of bombers Day’ric had worked with in the past. He remembered Tik to be amiable, quick-witted and far too intelligent for his job. He should have been a physicist or an engineer. Tik, however, said he did what he loved, rather than what he was good at. Day’ric had a hard time figuring out if that was a joke, since Tik was one of the best pilots and leaders he had ever met. While nor particularly tactical, and not the best shot, he was extremely well-liked by his squadron, and could turn even the least responsive Y-wing on a dime, a trick considering how ungainly the machines were. If he had one weakness, Day’ric thought it was his fast tongue. He didn’t have the same filter between brain and mouth that other people had, probably because he was already thinking four steps down the conversation.

Day’ric approached his old acquaintance, who was speaking lightly with a commander and a brigadier. Day’ric came in at the very end of whatever story Tik was telling.

“…but by the time she had gotten back inside, the womp rats had already gotten into the vents. Needless to say, my neighbors were unimpressed.”

The commander, a Bothan, chuckled and shook his head. The brigadier, one of the tallest men Day’ric had ever laid eyes upon, threw his head back and cackled. Tik shrugged. The brigadier stopped as quickly as he started and wiped away a tear. When he spoke, Day’ric was a little unsure of his accent, but was certain it was Outer Rim.

“Yes, very good. I like you, Dwu. You are funny, very funny.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Day’ric tapped his old friend’s shoulder and Tik turned. His face lit up upon seeing Day’ric, and he hugged him. Day’ric was shocked, but not unflattered. He had hardly been the most desirable pilot when he had worked with Tik. He must have made a better impression than he thought.

“Day’ric, buddy. Long time no see! When did you make captain, you big idiot?”

Day’ric chuckled as they broke the embrace.

“Officially, I’m not a Captain yet. Just have to sort out a few…personal issues.”

“Wait, wait, let me guess…you took down an ImpStar single-handedly, earning the rank, but you were drunk while you did it?”

“Not quite.”

“You were trapped behind enemy lines and had to hold there for days. When they found you, you were in bed with a beautiful enemy officer, but had managed to secure vital information.”

“Surprisingly, that’s closer.”

“Um…oh, don’t tell me it’s this boring…you assaulted a superior officer.”

“He wasn’t superior. He was a major. And it was an accident.”

“Haha, well good on you then.”

Tik turned to the two men he had been talking to. He grinned. “Fellas, this is Captain Day’ric Shallon, of the…”

“White Shadows,” Day’ric grinned and held out his hand. The two men shook in turn. “Nice to meet you.”

“Good to meet you too, Captain Shallon,” spoke the tall man.

“Of course,” said the Bothan.

Tik gestured to the Bothan and then the man. “This is Commander Getuh Stull and General Swift Purpose.”

Jenia smiled. “Your name is General Purpose?”

The Brigadier laughed. “Yes, yes. Very funny. I never wished to become Brigadier General. I wanted to retire as Colonel. But…”

Day’ric gestured to Jenia. “This is Jenia Vibrose.”

She held out her hand and each of the men shook.

“You are very beautiful tonight, Ms. Vibrose,” spoke Purpose, “too bad you are taken for, yes?”

He nudged Day’ric. Day’ric laughed. “She’s taken, but hardly by me. This is my…Jedi guardian, I suppose you could say.”

“I baby sit him,” Jenia nodded.

Tik chuckled. “Force knows he needs it.”

Stull gestured first at her pregnant belly, then at her wedding ring. “If you don’t mind me asking, Master Vibrose.”

Jenia smiled. “Not at all. I’m married to Haika Vibrose. He’s off on a mission or two, and I’m left to look after Day’ric here.”

“Speaking of looking after Day’ric…” a voice behind Day’ric spoke.

The group turned. Day’ric lit up to see Hardcore, Slicer and Winks staring back at him. Day’ric shot forward and embraced Ben and Gorm as tightly as possible.

“Good to see you too, buddy,” Ben choked out, “but your robo-arm is shoving a rib into my spleen.”

Day’ric laughed and let them go. He turned to Nalla and kissed her. He stopped when Gorm gave an uncomfortable cough.

Day’ric turned back to the group. “Everyone, this is Commander Ben Corender, Lieutenant Nalla Frontierus and Lieutenant Gorm Fey’lya.”

“Fey’lya?” Stull questioned.

“Not related to the big ones, sorry.” Gorm grinned.

Jenia smiled at them. “Day’ric, I’m sure you all have a lot of catching up to do. I’m sure these three can keep me company.”

Day’ric smiled at her, and he and his squadron broke off to talk.


It was several hours later that Day’ric and Nalla found themselves on the balcony. It was just after the midnight countdown, in the period where the party is just as wild as it is going to get, because everyone knows they’ll soon have to pull themselves back to their beds. There was celebratory yelling in the streets below, and speeders were at a dead crawl, honking their horns in tunes. Fireworks were going up in various parts of the city. Day’ric grinned, knowing this party would last on various parts of the planet and on various other worlds for another 18 hours, at least. He held Nalla’s hand as they leaned on the railing, overlooking the city.

“You know,” he grinned, “this is the first time I’ve actually known who I was gonna wind up with on New Years.”

She smirked at him and hit his arm playfully.

“So,” he said, “I had an interesting meeting the other day.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Mmm?”

“Yeah. An NRI guy. Nice enough. Great moustache. He brought up some…stuff…”

“Like what?”

Day’ric turned to her. “Have you heard any rumors about the White Shadows being shut down?”

Nalla looked up at him with one brow raised. “I have, as a matter of fact. Why?”

“Well, the guy offered me a job for when we do fold, or are put on probation or whatever is going to happen.”

“Honorably disbanded,” she mumbled, her brows furrowed. She looked back up at him. “What was the job?”

“That’s the thing. I’m not wholly sure. Some sort of team. He’s going to talk to Gorm too. And Jaguur.”

Nalla paced. Day’ric watched her move. Somehow, she made a dress uniform look good.

She stopped and turned to him. “What was this guy’s name?”

“Major Trigger.”

Her eyes flamed. “That bastard.”

“You know him?”

“He kindly sent over a…representative a few days ago. Not a very classy woman, if you get my drift. She insinuated that if I didn’t let you join their team, I would be removed. One way or another.”

The grin fell from Day’ric’s face. “What?”

Nalla held up her hands. “Just telling you what she said.”

Day’ric seethed. “Well, clearly I’m not just going to sit back and let that hap-“

Something suddenly sprang to Day’ric’s mind. Something only briefly spotted. In a briefcase.

“Day, what is it? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I just remembered something. It was in Trigger’s briefcase. I can’t exactly…it datapad. It was on. And there was something at the top…a name. A project name…”

“What’s wrong?”

Day’ric closed his eyes. “Vader. That’s what it said. Project: Vader.”

Nalla took a step back. “No…”

Day’ric opened his eyes again. “There’s no way that’s an NR project.”

“Are you saying…”

“I dunno what I’m saying.”

“We can’t just let…”

“No, we can’t. But if the NRI doesn’t know about this, we can’t just bring it up. This guy is NRI. His job is to make information disappear. We need…stealth.”

“What…”

Day’ric turned to her. “I have an idea. Hear me out. Okay?”

She nodded once.

“I join his team. I try and hunt what information I can from the inside.”

“I can’t just let you…”

Day’ric shook his head. “I’m not done. Meanwhile, you leave. You get a ship, some droids, whatever you need. Take odd jobs to pay for yourself. And you hunt him from the outside. I’ll feed you whatever clues I find. Together, if this guy is dirty…we can bring him down.”

Nalla sighed. “Day, you’re an idiot. You know that?”

Day’ric nodded. “I know.”

She hugged him. Day’ric rested his chin on the top of her head. After a moment, she whispered into his chest.

“Where do I get a frakking ship?”

Day’ric smiled and pulled her away. “Caspia. Talk to Caspia. She’ll still have contact with my parent’s company. Ask her to contact Tom and to tell him that Baba wants him to give you a ship, droids, weapons, whatever you need. He’ll do it.””

Nalla wiped a tear from her eye. “Baba,” she laughed.

Day’ric grinned and pushed her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And they kissed.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Coruscant, New Republic Army HQ, Main Runway

Lt. Colonel Kaasi Muul watched from a high platform above the main runway of the New Republic Army Headquarters. Himself, Major Kanto (His executive officer) and Lt. Colonel Barm watched as the two battalion task force loaded onto the Bantha-class Assault shuttles. There were forty of the Banthas loading nearly 1,200 men and fifty-three tanks on board. Along with the forty Banthas were a squadron of X-Wing Escorts and an armed freighter carrying fuel and supplies for the task force. The escorts, once hitting the ground would provide the air support for the battalions. Just as Kaasi and Barm had planned.

"So Barm, any of your guys ever see combat?" asked Kaasi, looking to the stocky Gotal.

"A few of my senior officers saw combat towards the end of the Galactic Civil War, but other than that not really. We have done drill after drill and many training missions, so expect only the best from my men. How about yours?" replied Barm.

"I served with this regiment for as long as I have been on the side of the New Republic, two of my company CO's saw combat on Hoth, Onderon and Coruscant and Major Kanto here was with the Alliance through the whole war," explained Col. Muul.

"I am pretty new to this battalion, but I served in the Gotal Military on my planet, and because of my history in commanding armored units when we joined the New Republic I was offered this position, so I took it," added Barm.

"Why did you do that?" asked Kaasi.

"It paid more," replied Barm with a chuckle.

"Good reason," said Kaasi chuckling as well.

The Gotal nodded as he looked on to his men backing the tanks into the brand new compartments outfitted for the Banthas. They were designed to clip in tanks with magnets and belts to insure that nothing moved or slid during evasive maneuvers. The compartment was also designed to keep from breaking during emergency drops if one of the Banthas went down. Kaasi watched as officers directed their platoons into the standard compartments of his banthas. One of the Bantha's held completely droids for the Armor battalion's mechanic and repair staff and Kaasi's battalion's medical staff.

As the men and supplies were being loaded in, Kaasi couldn't help but feel excitement that he had not felt since the boarding of landing crafts he had done so many times during the war. He looked to his Executive Officer and nodded. The Nautolan looked to be in deep thought, probably with the same emotions Kaasi felt. The quiet Major finally spoke up after a few moments.

"Well sir, at least I will get combat pay, I can finally pay off the loans I took for my son's university tuition," bragged Kanto with a smile.

The Nautolan had been incredibly happy these past few days. He had been waiting for a long time to see some more combat, and now he finally was going to. As an infantry officer, none of them liked to sit around in a desk and croak orders to people and observe drills. It was never fulfilling for someone who was meant to lead in combat to sit in an air conditioned office. Another reason was that his son was graduating from Coruscant University soon and would be enlisting in the Army as well, hopefully getting into a Military Academy and becoming an officer just like his father.

"How old is your son now?" asked Kaasi.

"He is going to be twenty next month, sir," answered Major Kanto.

"Ah, a good age. When I was twenty I was fighting a war and didn't really get to be young, but I wouldn't have it any other way," added the Colonel.

Kanto nodded and the two kept looking on. After a few hours, the loading was finally organized, and day on Coruscant turned to night. Kaasi had filled a thermos full of caff just before departing for the command pod of one of the shuttles. He would need it for the long ride. It took another few hours for the Army pilots to run final tests and call in numbers for the formations. Finally, after all of the crafts in the task force were synchronized and on communication with each other, they began lift off from Coruscant. The first vessels to take off were the X-Wing escorts and the supply freighter. Then went the first of the infantry Banthas followed by the modified armor carrying Banthas, and finally the last infantry carriers.

As the forty assault shuttles got into orbit of Coruscant, they went into formation and synchronized their hyperdrives. In an instant, they made the jump. Kaasi sat in one of the empty chairs and watched the pilots do their jobs. He lit a cigarra and looked to Kanto.

"Kanto, want one?" offered Kaasi, showing him the cigarra case.

Kanto took one of the white cylinders and lit it. Kaasi took the lid off of his thermos and drank some caff. He liked it black, none of that sweetener or cream that most people liked. He liked it plain and simple like the man he was. He offered his Executive Officer a swig, but the Nautolan shook his head. The two began the kind of conversation people would have to avoid drowning in the boredom that accompanied long flights. They talked pointlessly as the ships moved through hyperspace, it was going to be a long ride.

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Cassandra could never help but find it a little ironic, and more than a little tragic, that Nar Shadaa could be full of so much poverty, and yet still be the benefactor of at least half of her business. Sometimes, she felt terrible for the poor souls in the slums. No one can blame me for using what I have. She had a ship, and this is where her mother had taught her. This was where all of her connections were. Nevertheless, she could not hide the sliver of pity that slipped through her mask of indifference. The mask was enough to keep her stride confident, and her eyes forward, trying not to notice the haggard beggars lining the gloomy streets.

Thom had sent her here. He claimed it was to receive a job offer from an associate of his. In the criminal underworld, associate meant just another scum-bag, so that alone made her wary. Apparently, it would keep her occupied, and paid, for several months. That probably meant she would be smuggling something too dangerous to load on a large freighter, so they needed multiple trips from something more elusive. While they spoke of danger to their profits, it was dangerous to her as well, in other ways. Regardless, she would need to tread very carefully. At that thought her dark brown gaze flickered left and right. One could never be too certain in this area. Always be watching, just in case someone got too desperate.

In the back of her mind, Cass still found it strange that the law was a joke around here. They didn't even try to hide. Money was the law. The New Republic might as well have been the next galaxy over. Sure, you could say that the Hutts were the law. But the Hutts were money. They grew fat on it, metaphorically speaking. And it governed their decision making. No one would try to argue here, as they did on other worlds, that the law held some kind of moral authority. It was all credits. Sometimes, Cass thought that might be all that there was. But, there was good out there. She had had a father once. Im just a smuggler, so I don't get to see it all that much. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Someday, she would see it again.

She cleared her mind, noticing that the warehouse, the scheduled meeting site of this 'associate,' had creeped up on her while she was lost in thought. A rodian and a scarred, middle aged man guarded the entrance, their fingers resting on their blasters.

"Relax, gentlemen." She raised her hands in the air, a gesture of goodwill. "Thom sent me. Cass Dalton. Im a pilot, among other things."

The rodian spoke in their strange clicking tongue. The other nodded. "Right. You'll need to give us your weapon." Cass noted him muttering seriously into a comm unit, probably notifying his superior of her presence.

She handed him her blaster, butt first, and he took at as they stepped to the side. The door swished open, and she stepped into a huge room, the floor littered with crates stacked haphazardly and randomly. Out of the few lights that were working, a few of them flickered eerily. She sighed quietly to herself. Nar Shadaa could really be depressing. Her footsteps almost echoed in the empty room, stopping when she reached the center of the place. She peered inquisitively over both shoulders.

Eyes snapped to attention as a door hissed open at the far end of the room. Two guards preceded a man whose clothing was perhaps a bit nicer than those within his employ. She could only assume this was who Thom had spoken to her about. He spread his arms congenially. "Ahh, here she is, Cassandra Dalton! You've saved the day, you really have."

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. What is it with these people and the friendly routine. Everyone knew it was total crap. "I heard you needed someone with my particular skillset." She didn't want to make small talk with this guy. "Obviously you know Im here about the job."

His smile only widened, became more pretentious. "Of Course! Straight to business, I like that when I do business. Guards, if you'll excuse us for a moment." The guards exchanged uncomfortable glances with one another. On Nar Shadaa, everyone was right to be mistrustful.

Cass eyed him warily as her place a hand on her shoulder leading her towards the other room. She didn't need a weapon to kill him, she decided. Always be ready… especially when money is involved. Thats what her mother had taught her, and Cass had made it one of her cardinal rules. He was still babbling on. "Alright, so we have assault rifles, and were looking to export. The places where they're worth the most? There all tough places to get into. We need someone with a fast ship. We need someone that's hard to kill. We need-"

His voice stopped and his expression turned serious as the door slid shut at their backs. They were in a far smaller, well lit room. It was set up with a desk, and furniture. "My name is… Mr. Gallufix." He paused. "This isn't about smuggling, Miss Dalton."

"Well then why did you send for me?"

"I'll explain everything, if you will kindly take a seat. It will be worth your time, both in credits and cause." That got her attention. Appealing to a smuggler's sense of righteousness was not a very successful strategy. She wondered if he knew more about her than he let on. It was a little unsettling, but she was intrigued. He gestured to the seat opposite his desk, and cautiously, she took it. She watched him suspiciously as he rounded the desk, sinking into the chair. His eyes studied hers for a moment, before he picked up a lone data pad on the surface of the desk.

"Cassandra Dalton. Father, deceased. Mother, in hiding. A child of privilege, only to have that life destroyed by pirates." Cassandra's eyes hardened as she looked back at him, the edges of her lips turning downward into a frown. "Has since been known to take various smuggling and retrieval job opportunities, many of them illegal. Most of the transactions go through one 'Thomas Grindwell.' Shall I continue?"

Her voice was outwardly calm, but her heart raced. "What is this about?"

"We know the kind of Jobs you take, where your sympathies lie. You don't just work for anyone with money. I understand this is not the most profitable business model in the galaxy." He gave her a sarcastic smile.

"You didn't answer the question."

"I'm getting to that. We will pay you 10,000 credits per mission, provided you accept." Now he was getting somewhere, instead of staying with his self-important babble. She still didn't know what it was though, and she would need to before she said yes. Ten thousand… By the force, she could use the money. She tried to keep her expression from becoming wistful. No need to make it obvious. Although, she thought, perhaps he already knows exactly how much I need the money.

"You will be working for the New Republic." Cass's eyes widened slightly. That was beyond unexpected. "It will be dangerous. Very dangerous. But like I said, the money is good, and you'll be taking care of the scum of the earth. Those are your two biggest motivating factors, are they not?"

Attempting to appear indignant, she gave him a condescending grin. "You have said nothing about the nature of these 'missions,' Mr. Gallufix. Frankly, you better get to the point."

He smiled, with equal condescension. "Don't act like your not desperate, Miss Dalton." He leaned back in his chair, fingers coming together, that annoying grin still plastered on his face. "We know exactly how desperate for credits you are. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you the details of these missions until I have your acceptance. In writing."

Cassandra stood, abruptly. It was a shame to walk away from all that money. It could save her a lot of trouble. But she couldn't walk in blind. It wasn't her style. She was smarter than that. "Then, Mr. Gallufix, I'm afraid we have no further business to discuss." She was halfway to the door when he spoke once more.

"Remember the day your father died?"

She froze midstep, a myriad of emotions flashing, white hot, through her mind. Her dark eyes burned with anger as she turned her head to face him. Her voice was a dangerous whisper. "You would know nothing of that day, no matter how many facts you can spew about it."

"You know, it was the New Republic who caught him. Did you know that we got him?" He paused for effect, Cassandra still glaring. "We are all that stands in the way between men like him, and men like your father. And now look at you. A criminal."

An angry snap left her before she could hold it back. "I'm no criminal!"

He laughed dryly. "Certainly not in the intellectual sense, Cass, but we both know that's not enough for you. Let me put it simply so you can understand."

Cass took a deep breath, the fire in her gaze receding slightly. "If you accept, you will be helping us make sure that people who don't deserve to die, like your father, don't."

She starred at him for a long, tense moment, thoughts racing. She could not beleive this was happening. Maybe… maybe this was it. Maybe this was her out from smuggling. Sithspit, let this be the cause I have been searching for… There was no way to be sure, but maybe she had to take a leap of faith. Yes, she had to do it.

The time was now.

She smiled, straightening beneath his intense, questioning look. "When do I start?"

Re: Tatooine: Shadow of Fear

Nalla strode into Caspia’s office as early as she could the next morning. Several datapads were arrayed the woman’s desk, and she was biting the corner of her glasses, which she held in one hand as she read from a datapad. A cup of caffa steamed on the desk. Caspia hummed a tune to herself absent-mindedly as she read.

“I need a favour,” Nalla said as she entered.

“Happy New Years to you to,” Caspia grinned as she set the datapad down and put on her glasses. Nalla made note that text appeared to be scrolling on the inside of the glasses. How Caspia could focus was beyond her.

“I saw Day’ric last night,” Nalla said.

“Which I knew, of course.”

“Of course. Well, he suggested that maybe I…get away for a bit.”

“You mean a trip?”

“Kind of. He means more like get away from the Navy. Do something else for a bit. Just…get away.”

Caspia leaned back momentarily and scanned Nalla’s face. She then leaned back forward and lifted her mug. She sipped noisily, one of her few bad habits.

“I think that that is a wonderful idea.”

“What?”

“You blame yourself for the events on Tatooine,” Caspia stood and walked over to Nalla, “but you also blame the New Republic for sending you there. It isn’t uncommon. Not being under their orders for a while might actually help. Give you time to clear your head. But that isn’t a favour…”

“Day’ric said you might have contact with a man named Tom…”

“Tom? Like Thomas Milson-Yannik? Of course I do! Tom is the nicest man in Day’ric’s parent’s company! He used to tell the best stories, when we were children. He was like Day’ric’s older brother or uncle. Practically raised him, what with Mr. Shallon spending so much time on business before his decline. Why do you need Tom?”

“Day’ric wanted you to get him a message. To tell him that Baba wants him to get me whatever I need…ship, droids, anything.”

“Mmm,” Caspia went to her desk and sat down, “why do you need a Shallon & Co. ship. Or droids. Or…anything. Why not just some freighter.”

Nalla shrugged. “I guess this is…easier.”

“And faster, and more powerful. You’re basically asking for prototypes of various technologies.”

Caspia narrowed her gaze. Nalla was unsettled. She had never seen this intensity in the woman before. Finally, Caspia leaned back and smiled.

“I’ll get you in contact with Tom. I’ll get him your message and everything. But you have to do something for me.”

Nalla cocked her head. “What is it?”

“You and I have to go back to your father’s warehouse. Until you head back there, I’m not writing you off as safe to be on your own.”

“I’ll hardly be on my own. I’m guessing Ben will want to come.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

Nalla sighed. She knew that she had to get in contact with Tom. If she didn’t help Day’ric bring down Trigger, she may never see him again. She needed that ship. She needed Tom Milson-Yannik.

“Fine. I’ll go. But don’t expect some huge, emotional epiphany or something.”

“You? Emotional? Never!” Caspia said sarcastically.

“Not funny.”

“Sorry, I get sarcastic when I get my way.”

“Sarcasm is only attractive when drunk.”

“Whatever you say.”

Nalla turned and walked to the door. She stopped and turned.

“Thank you, Caspia.”

“No problem. A speeder will pick you up tomorrow morning.”

Nalla left.



Nalla looked over her sabacc hand. She was dreadful at the game, a fact that she was intensely and emotionally embarrassed about, but she wanted to talk to the others: Ben, Gorm, Jaguur. And they just so happened to be playing sabacc.

Nalla was actually surprised at how the game was going. Ben had also struck her as a bit of a gambler, cocksure and just a mite arrogant. She had expected him to take unnecessary risks on outrageous hands, but he had played sparingly, and so had the most chips left. Gorm was next to Ben on the right, a decent pile of chips in front of him too. Gorm had the best sabacc face Nalla had ever seen, but folded more than he should.

Jaguur, on the other hand, was terrible, a fact that greatly amused Nalla. He had several advantages the others couldn’t deny: they couldn’t see his face, he rarely talked and he had proven himself able to read people. Plus, as a smuggler and a scoundrel, Nalla assumed he could play. And yet he sat with a pitiful set of chips. When Nalla really sat down and thought about it, it made sense. Sabacc invited conversation, and Jaguur loved nothing more than peace and quiet.

Nalla looked at her own chips. It wasn’t much. More than Jaguur but far less than Gorm. She knew her problem. She was too emotional for the game. Her sabacc face was one of the worst that anyone at the table had seen. She just couldn’t hide her elation when she got a good hand, or her disappointment when her hand was less than pleasant. An inability to hide her feelings had gotten her into trouble more than once. She recalled the end of her last dancing job, and wondered whether her boss had recovered. A fork in the leg could leave lasting problems.

“Fold,” Gorm said, dropping the hand.

“You do that a lot…” Jaguur spoke, a rare comment.

“I just don’t like being uncertain. I need to know I’m going to win.”

Jaguur nodded. Nalla thought that he probably understood. He seemed unlikely to take unnecessary risks.

“For instance,” Gorm continued, “about all this business about the Shadows being shut down. I’ve been thinking. It might not be so bad, you know? I was never a great pilot.”

“Who are you kidding,” Ben placed a ciggara inbetween his teeth and drew out a lighter, “you’re great.”

Gorm shrugged. “Well, I was thinking, I could go into business for myself.”

Nalla raised her eyebrows and stared at her cards. Trigger hadn’t approached the kid yet. “Doing what?”

“I was thinking I could open a technical shop. Build droids, fix broken datapads, navi-computers, whatever people need.”

“Our little slicer,” Ben chuckled.

“Oh,” Gorm blushed, or as much as a Bothan could, “not…really. I’d be doing it all legally, of course.”

“Of course,” Ben nodded.

“Actually,” Nalla said, picking her words carefully, “I have word that a job opportunity might be coming your way. Day’ric mentioned it.”

“Really?” Gorm raised an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

Nalla shrugged. “But it got me thinking. I need to take a break, you know?”

Ben chuckled. “Oh totally,” he responded, “a proper vacation. Not like our last little broken one. At the beach.”

Nalla nodded. “I was thinking, well…”

“Well what?”

“I have a ship, some droids, some…other stuff, coming my way. And I have a…job…”

Ben blew a smoke ring. He carefully moved some chips to the center of the table and then spoke. “Spit it out, Winks.”

“Well,” Nalla leaned forward, “how would you and Jaguur like to go into business. Day’ric and I have some stuff cooked up. We’ll be like a team, but sort of…split.”

Gorm leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. “What have you and Blue gotten us into?”

“Well, Slice, it’s a long story…”

“I’m sure,” Ben leaned forward.

“But you and Day’ric will be together, and me and Jaguur and Ben will be together, and, well, we’ll be doing something good. Really good. Off the grid.”

“A real mission, not some political banthashit,” Jaguur said.

Nalla actually laughed at that. She had never heard Jaguur swear. “Exactly.”

“Well,” the Gand folded his hand, “I can say that I am interested. I’ve been meaning to get out of smuggling as is. Too…noisy.”

“I can bet,” Ben nodded. He looked at Nalla. “And this is all good?”

“All good.”

“Where do I sign?”