Possibilities.....

[nefertiti]

It is the evening before Luke Skywalker’s sixteenth birthday. His Aunt and Uncle, Owen and Beru Lars, have done everything in their power to make tomorrow one of the best. But Luke stands alone this evening watching the two suns of Tatooine set. Thinking. Thinking about who he is. What he wants. Where he is going. More than an hour passes as the warmth of the two stars fades and the crisp, cool evening causes him to shiver.

“Luke!?” “Luke!?” Comes the soft loving call of his Aunt.

He turns and sees her outline against the lights of the homestead. “Here, Aunt Beru. I’m here.” He slowly walks towards her glancing back at the night sky beginning its own party. The lights of a thousand worlds flickering in the silence. He wants to know what is going on out there.

“Luke?” Comes the voice again.

He picks up the pace, “Here I come.” When he reaches her, they look at the night sky together for a moment and smile at each other.

……meanwhile…..

Ben Kenobi rummages around in the trunk looking for….ah, there it is. The tightly wrapped cylindrical shape is light in his hand, but the story behind it lays heavy in his heart. Dropping the lid, he jams the object into the satchel he will take with him. Tomorrow. He will tell him tomorrow. A distinct whirling whistle begins. Not human made but….

“Master, it has been a long time.” He gives a mediocre bow to the empty room. The years alone have not lessened his belief, but they have given him time to see the errors. So simple. So devastating.

There was quiet. Shrugging his cloak off, he says, “Of what service can I be to you, Qui-gon?”

….and on another world….

His ears tingled as a new shift in the Force began its turn. Something….no, understand he did not. The exiled Jedi Master cocked his head, releasing his anxiety. His fear. His loss. What he kept was hope. The insects and animals of the swamp also stopped. There was silence. Silence. Darkness reared from edge of the swamp. Cloaking the great Master. Making him shiver as the danger became apparent. Vader it sung.


…..Orbiting Tatooine….

… in his personal star destroyer, the Devastator, Lord Vader once again found himself thinking. Of things that no longer mattered. This hole of place where he once had…. No. He cautioned himself. No, regret was not a part of his life. Then he questions. Then why am I here? Something has drawn me here. To this place of pain.

….while in the Imperial Senate….

Leia Organa trails behind her father. His anger written on his face. She trips trying to keep up with him. Her head darts back and forth between his face and her feet. If she falls he will stop, but everyone will see. She can’t fall. She must keep up. She begins to huff as her fast walk turns to a jog. Suddenly, her father stops. His face has changed. An idea maybe, she thinks. But then he looks at her. No, now the look is gone. He reaches for her hand. And as grown up she likes to think she is she takes it. They leave the Senate building.

[Konig15]

This looks interesting...

But I have to ask, did Obi-want EVER talk to Master Ginn after death? I would think if he did, Gin would very much press for the redemption of Vader and his fulfillment of the 'Chosen One,' given his very Grey Jedi general phillosophy. This however is however, never posited by Kenobi at any point, even in ROTJ, where he espects Luke to off daddy and granddaddy.

And BTW, Executor in cannon was not ready until right after Yavin. Three years before, he'd be on board the Devastator.

But tell me, is this AU or not, cause I wanna know where this is going.

[nefertiti]

Beru paused in the kitchen. He’d grown so much. But she worried. Moisture farming wasn’t for him. She smiled again… but he’d learned…learned not to bring the subject up. He was thinking about leaving. Going out on his own and unless she and Owen could find someway to keep his attention…. Lifting the tray of cups and java she joined Luke, Owen and Biggs in the living room. Biggs had arrived just after supper and was entertaining them with the newest gossip from town.

“…and no one has seen him since!” Luke and Owen laughed. It was good to hear him laugh, Owen thought. It had been happening less and less these days. He knew it was because of him. He was hard on the boy. But there were other considerations…more important…

He looked up as Beru stepped in and smiled at her. She jokingly admonished them about laughing at another person’s misfortune.

Biggs leaned forward, “There is some talk of the war. Nothing specific, but some definite active recruitment going on. Next year, I’m joining up.”

Beru jumped in, “Enough talk of war. It’s so far away and has nothing to do with us.”

“Not so far as you’d think, Missus Lars,” Biggs continued, “there’s an Imperial ship over us now. The “bears” were all over town this afternoon. Some say it’s “his” ship.”

Owen could feel the fear rise up. “Bears” – the young people’s nickname for Stormtrooper – in town. An Imperial ship? He knew sweat was beading on his forehead and raised his hand to wipe it away.

“Enough boys. You know I don’t like all this talk. Let the Empire do what it wants. They won’t get into bed with the Hutts.” In an attempt to defuse the tension, he laughed, “Or if they knew what was good for them…they wouldn’t want to get into bed with the Hutts!”

Biggs and Luke laughed and Owen looked and saw a worried look on Beru’s face.

[Konig15]

Hey, I love seeing Owen, Beru and Biggs! This was good.

One thing, Biggs is going to the Acedemy, and it's cononical that he was disallusioned with the Empire and THEN jioned the Rbellion. It sounds like here he sees the Empire already as kind of an enemy.

I can't tell you what to do but I will suggest:
The Empire did take control of Tatooine when Biggs and Luke where young. I think they even freed the slaves as a propaganda effort. Biggs could be a fan of the Empire in 3BBY, because they chased the likes of Jabba the Hutt to the scattered corners of the planet, and gave his home a sense of security, and probably economic betterment due to being in the Empire's relatively free trade economy, for the first time sense Tatooine was lost to the Republic ages ago.

[nefertiti]

When the old folks went down for the night, the two boys made a last check of the homestead. The clear sky glimmered and they both found they were tired of waiting.

“Luke,“ Biggs mused, “I’m gonna fly the fastest thing the Imperials have to offer. I’m going to see everything I can…” he pushed Luke with his shoulder, “…and then some more.”

Luke looked down at the sand. He kicked a small amount and it blew in the soft wind.

“I’m never going to get out of here. Uncle Owen has plans for the next 20 years. I can’t just leave them. They’re my family. All I’ve got.”

Biggs had stopped while Luke spoke. He stared at the night sky.

“As soon as I get settled, I’ll write you. Tell you everything about the Academy. The next year, you’ll come. You’ll see. The next year they won’t know what hit them. Biggs Darklighter and Luke Skywalker!”

He ran and jumped yelling, “Captain’s Darklighter and Skywalker!”

Luke ran with him, jumping as high, “Admiral’s Skywalker and Darklighter!”

And they laughed…….


Hours before dawn, Owen rose. The sled was soundless as he left. He had to tell Ben. He had to keep him away.

[nefertiti]

A deep chuckle filled the small room, “Do for me, my old Padawan? It is what I can do for you. Did you think I would forget?”

Ben Kenobi sighed. It was the same discussion. “No, Master. But it has been a long time. When you left, I thought you were gone for good.” Ben sat heavily, “I haven’t changed my mind.”

Across from him, he thought he saw a faint outline. “I never wanted to change your mind. I wanted you to see that your meddling was not needed.” Another quiet laugh, “Faith, Obi-wan, is what is needed.”

Ben shot back at him, “In what?”

“That all things will be as the Force directs.”

“He has the right…”

“Why?” Qui-gon countered. “He doesn’t have any idea. The Force is dormant in him. Allow him more time.”

“Because you failed?” Came out sharply. “Qui-gon, I’m sor…..” Came out just as quickly.

“Did I fail? No, I don’t think so. I believe I did all that I supposed to do.” He paused, “But you Obi-wan must wait.”

“And thousands die. Worlds collapse. Justice is lost…” He shouted.

“Ah….” came back the quiet reply, “This is about justice for you. This is about saving the galaxy for you. But my friend, it’s not about you. It’s not about saving face or being the hero. Or even revenge. You have learned much in all these years. Being alone without other influences has allowed you to stay focused. But do you think of yourself as some kind of savior? Did you think that watching over the boy gave you some special place in the scheme of things?” There was a sigh, “Let him be, Obi-wan.”

The Jedi Master shook his head slowly, “No, Qui-gon, I can’t.”

There was quiet in the house. Ben thought he was alone until…

“I’ve taught you all I can. You have learned well, Obi-wan…” then softly, “my friend. If I can not convince you, others will…”

Then he was alone. He’d grown used to the nights and being so alone. But this night was the longest as he searched within himself for justification. For reason. For truth.

Finally, with dawn only hours away, Ben checked his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. He looked around his home. His decision made, he started for the Lars’ homestead.

[Zedekk]

rrRaaRG! Hulk want more or Hulk will smash! :D

[nefertiti]

He came upon him just at the foot of the mountain. His cloak pulled down over his face, he might have been a shadow. Ben looked up when he heard the speeder. Owen. He raised his hand in greeting.

Owen stopped near a rock outcrop and waited.

“Owen,” Ben called out, “this old man didn’t need a lift, but all the same,” he laughed, “it is much appreciated.” Ben set his satchel down and leaned against one of the rocks. His smile faded slowly as he saw Owens’s face. And felt his agitation. His fear.

“What? What’s happened?”

Owen shook his head slowly, “You don’t know?”

“Know? Know what,” he replied questionly.

“But I thought…the Force…with who you are you would have known.” Owen paused, “Ben, he’s here.”

Kenobi looked away. His eyes moved carefully. Looking at nothing. Seeing everything.

“No,” he replied cryptically, “no, when you don‘t look for a thing, you don’t see it when it appears.” He sighed. “Tell me everything.”

When Owen finished with Biggs’s gossip, Ben asked, “So you don’t know if it’s actually him?” then, “And if it is, why he is here?” Owen shook his head.

His mind ran with possible scenarios. He couldn’t chance using the Force. Couldn’t put all in danger. Protect the boy. Coincidence? After all this time, why now?

Slowly he asked, “Has Luke been acting….differently? Any changes in his habits?”

“No. Same stubborn….” He let it trail off.

Smiling sadly, “Yes, I remember.” He thought a moment more. “Then we carry on. Nothing has changed. I have a promise to keep.” He put his hand on Owens’s shoulder directing him towards the speeder, when Owen stopped.

“No! No, you can’t come. You can never come again.” The anger had been building, “Don’t you see? You’ll be like a magnet. You and that Force. He’ll find you. You’ll bring him right to us!”

Ben took a step back, “Owen, you don’t know that. You don’t even know if he’s there. I made a promise to Luke and I’m going to keep it.”

Ben made to pick up his satchel, but Owen pushed him away. Grabbing his shirt in his hands he shook the Jedi Master, “No…” sputtering, “You’ll get us all killed. You and your stupid belief. You fragged us all with him, I’m not going to let you do it again.” He threw Ben to the ground, “I’ll kill you if you come near us again.”

Ben’s hand raised….to shield his eyes to the rising suns or…

Owen barked, “What are you going to Force me or something? You gonna use that stuff on me? To what? Make me think differently? To get to Luke? Don’t even think about it. You’ve hidden yourself out here for too long. Things have changed. Only little bits here and there, but whatever you think you can do forget it. You and your kind didn’t pay attention before and now we have a monster on our hands. Thanks to you.” He took a deep breath, the sweat stung his eyes, “Keep away from us, Ben Kenobi.” He took two steps back…waiting. Then turned, jumped into his speeder and headed home.

Ben laid there on the ground and watched Owen leave. They‘d been friends since that evening. And he‘d never known what contempt he‘d felt. A question….a question kept running through his head. Over and over again. Did I make the monster?

[nefertiti]

Raymus Antilles ran up the stairs of the Alderaan Embassy. The message he carried for the Prince would determine what their next move would be.

Entering the study, he saw Leia perched on the corner of her father's desk laughing at something he had said. He watched her for a few seconds. She was lovely. So like… He cleared his throat.

“Raymus... Will you get this imp out of my office so that I can get some work done?!” Bail Organa said laughing.

“Highness, it would no longer be appropriate for me to throw her over my shoulder, but I could…” He made an actors menacing move towards her.

“Uncle Raymus! How could you?” Indignant and happy, Leia Organa slipped off the desk and went to the door. “Very well. You’d like me out of here, I’m going to change my cloths and return to the Senate.” She pointed to her temple, “Keep my eyes open…”

Antilles looked at Bail whose laugher ended abruptly, “No Leia,” he said watching Raymus’s face for approval, “I’d like you to stay here and finish the papers on the new proposal.”

Leia looked back and forth at these two men. She’d been watching them for months now. Strange meetings. Communiqués that were read and destroyed. Old friends who never visited again. She was tired of listening at doors and getting second hand information. She’d been working with different committees and in government programs for years now. She knew they wanted to keep her out, but if she was to ever help, she needed to know.

She re-closed the door deciding that now was the time to let them know that she was ready.

“How will I know what to do if you don’t let me in?” She asked.

Bail examined her. He’d been right to keep silent in the Senate today. Another dictate. Another injustice. But this time there were less who applauded. Fewer than… The member’s involved in private sector engineering, were now controlled by the Empire. He sighed.

Raymus glanced at Bail, “Yes. It’s time. If for no reason than to protect herself, Bail.”

Bail Organa stood and peered out of the window.

“Alright. But we’re going home.” He went to Leia and took her hands, “Alright. We’ll talk on the trip home.”

At the other end of Senator Organa’s desk, R2 let out a whistle of joy. The astro-droid’s memories of Coruscant were clear and only bad things happened in this place.

Raymus laughed, “Yes, R2. Home.” He’d forgotten the droid was there. “Go ahead, R2, and get them started on preflight procedure.”

The Alderaan staffs were well trained; it was only a few hours before the Tantive IV left Coruscant diplomatic space. Leia and Raymus were sitting in the small dining room, when Bail entered with a guest. The petite figure went to the sideboard and poured a drink, before turning and removing the hood of her cloak. Mon Mothma!

The ex-Senator smiled, “Yes, Leia, just me. Why don’t we sit down and I’ll fill you in.”

[nefertiti]

“…and that’s where we stand. Ackbar has assured me that the base is secure. For now. We’ve got two fallback positions ready in case.” She smiled, “And on a lighter note, the spat between Vader and the Emperor is making the rounds.” She leaned her chin in the palm of her hand, “Good that the Socialites have their entertainment.”

Leia remained quiet through it all. The amount of information laid out by Mon Mothma made perfect sense. Where Leia had seen problems and lack of attention, Mothma had linked those faults directly to the government. Almost directly to the Emperor. And she wondered how that could be? She knew some of the officials. Some of them she thought were friends. She listened to them. But now, looking at their positions, she saw that it was about control. About power.

Raymus asked, “Spat?”

“Yes, it seems that the Emperor wants Vader to head-up another taskforce to “clean” out Jedi.” She rubbed the pads of her hands in her eyes. They were bloodshot. It had been a long week. Sitting up straight, she continued, “The rumor is that when Vader attempted to “dissuade” the Emperor, he was put on go-for duty.” She hesitated, “He’s delivering replacement Imperial Tax Collectors along the Corellian Run. Good riddance.”

Leia watched her father glance at Raymus. They were good at this, she thought, but they’d been doing it for a long time.

Suddenly, she realized they were all looking at her. “Should we be giving rumors any credence?”

Mothma tiled her head and smiled at Bail, “Interesting point to pick out.” Bail nodded returning her smile.

“Our source is impeachable and first hand. Now, Leia, what we need is some one to deliver messages. As a Lady in Waiting, you are above suspicion. You could do us a great service.”

“Of course,” she responded, “I’m…..surprised. The economical issues…you’ve matched them to …I’ve been running things through my head and… I remember some of the volunteers and delegates talking...” She stopped, “I’m sorry.”

Mon reached over and covered Leia’s hand. “It’s not easy, I know. You see them, talk to them everyday. You think you know them.” She sat back, “Then… it all falls apart.” She sighed deeply, “Bail if you’ll dropped me off on Shili, I’ll finish my journey.” She looked again at Leia, “Think about this before you answer. Everything will change.”

[Zedekk]

please continue.

[nefertiti]

He started. The fear washed through the inside of his body. To feel... to feel anything was joy. In his mind he pictured his body. Physically it was encased in a gelatinous substance composed of medical salves, antibiotic fluids and silicone, Anakin no longer attempted see it. He only remembered. Squeezing his caked encrusted eyelids tightly, he saw in his minds eye, toes, ankles, calves, knees, and thighs. In his mind he flexed them. Felt their movement. Rejoiced in remembering the feel of it. It was all he could do. Remember how to feel. In actuality, he felt nothing.

In the sensory shell, covered in the fluid substances, he tested himself again. Using the Force, he stopped the machine that forced oxygen into his lungs. And then he waited. He couldn’t win. Not this contest. If he kept the machine still, he’d loose consciousness. Once that happened the machine would start. It would “breathe” for him again. But he tried. Whenever he dreamed, he tried. But it seemed suicide would not be his escape. After all these years, he still tried.

He released his hold with the Force. The machine hissed and began its pumping. He waited to see if he could feel his lungs fill. No. But he knew that. As he knew the epidermal layers of skin no longer reacted to cold. To hot. The wind. To pain. Yet he wished he could feel.

Encasing him in the suit saved his life. But it destroyed his body. What might have healed and been regenerated – was a husk holding the essence of the prophesied Chosen One. The first and second years, the husk was prone to disease and internal risk. Hence, the shell. Only with time did the curious medics and his own personal insight averted disaster. His death – again forestalled. No longer needed, it was his choice to continue using it. He designed his prison of freedom. Within his chamber, inside the shell, he was closed off. It gave him freedom. Freedom from the Master.

The years passed. The waking hours were long. But there were enough tasks to keep him busy. It was only suitless in his chamber that his thoughts betrayed him. Scenes played out in his mind and changed to justify his actions. Except one. Then the dreams started. It had been many years since he dreamed. And he became afraid when they started.

If he had been an older, more mature person, the years of visits and talks with his Master might have bridged the gap that grew out of his anger. Enough to ask for counsel. But the boy was damaged in body, mind, and soul as the mask fell over his face. He blamed everyone for his condition. Including the Emperor. He finally saw the lies and although it was his ego that spoke those words to…her. That had changed. It was now his intent and he was almost ready.

[nefertiti]

The party had gone off without a hitch. Neighbors from adjacent homesteads and a few old friends from town came. Specially made dishes were brought and recipes exchanged. And as with all parties, the men drifted together outside to talk about the industry troubles. The women headed for the kitchen and serving area. The young people took over the living area. There were occasional defections, when the young men meandered over to the men’s side, but they soon returned to their own group.

The families with young children left first with excuses of “early morning” or “kids are out of hand.” Later in the evening, the old codger – Tuk Seaman – who’d had a little too much party drink began telling stories of the old days. Owen paid no attention to him, only peripherally listening, until he started to talk about the old Tusken story.

“….and they was all diad. Wasn’t a one; man, woman or child left standing. I hear’d that it was them….”

Most of the party-goers had heard the story before and heard it again….and again. But Owen didn’t like it. He remembered his face when he carried her into the homestead. He remembered when they’d come out of the work shop that day. He was chilled. The unknown making him fearful.

He started to laugh. It was forced and Beru, standing by the fireplace, heard it. He laughed loudly, “Tuk,” he said, catching his breath, “that story is so full of holes you could walk a bantha through it.” He laughed again as others joined in. “And it gets larger every time you tell it!” Now there was true laughter from the group, Owen leaned his elbow on Tuk’s shoulder and said loud enough to be heard over the laughter and talk, “Shortly after that Tuk and the Emperor decided on the best way to run the Empire…and look at what’s happened!!” Everyone roared with laughter. But Owen felt bad. Tuk was a good person….it was just….that story. His argument with Ben. The ship above them. Damn, he thought, I’ll make it up to him.

Much later while Owen and Beru finished the clean up, she let him talk. Hands in soapy water, she listened as he told her about Ben. She watched as he finished. The sadness in his face.

“Owen. Ben’s been good to us. It’s not his fault. You know that.” She touched his arm. “There wasn’t anything anyone could do.”

Owen stood straight and pointed outside, “That boy won’t end up the same way. I’ll see to that.”

She squeezed his arm, “We can only try. He will be what he will be. What we are isn’t determined by blood, but by how you are taught. Brought up. Luke’s a good boy. He’ll be a good man.”

Outside, giving a last wave good bye to Biggs, Luke stopped and glanced towards the mountains. Ben didn’t come. Luke remembered that promise made eight, no…nine years ago. He thought he’d ask Uncle Owen in the morning.

But never did.

[nefertiti]

“How’s he doing?” Bail asked quietly as they orbited Shili.

Mothma shook her head, “Not in the best condition, but he has a will of iron. Bail,” her voice became excited, “what he brought. With him….it’s extraordinary. Military plans, task force specifics…”

Bail nodded, “Ackbar sent me a report with general specifics. But to mask the true mission with an assignation attempt and escape," Bail paused, “would have been his death if he had been caught. What of the other information?"

She moved in closer to him, “Nothing yet. With Ackbar’s smokescreen, the other members escaped….” she looked at him, “we think. Bail, there were six.” she emphasized, “Six, Bail. One will make it. They were to scatter and make their way to the rendezvous point. Then be transported to Bothawui, where we have friends…but they will not act except in secret.” She peered into his face, “It will take time, my friend.”

“Yes, I know.” He sighed, “I understand. How much time and how many more will die?” There was a slight shudder as the ship landed. “And Mon, can we be sure the information is that important?”

……above Tatooine…..

Chief Bast heard the rustle of his cloak before Lord Vader stopped at his post. Looking up at him, at attention, he waited for orders. The black hole stood silent. He returned to his console.

His deep voice had a soft element to it and the chief looked up to be sure he heard. Lord Vader was already walking away.

Ensign James huffed at him, “Well…? Prepare Lord Vader’s ship.”

Chief Bast nodded quickly. His ship? This wasn’t part of the plan.

……on Coruscant….

The Emperor of the Galactic Empire looked out of his office window at his capital and cackled. His plan was falling into place. All was as it should be.

[Zedekk]

many twists and turns YAY! more more !:D

[nefertiti]

As Vice Chair to the Emperor, Mas Amedda believed all he was told. His desire for power outweighed any possible conflict. He work tirelessly towards the new Republic. He even saw himself as the next Emperor. Sometime in the future…but not to far. After the transformation, his position was solidified. He knew what battle had been fought. He saw the winner take the prize. And he chose. He did not deceive himself that he was irreplaceable…he just made sure he was. As the years passed, his trust was rewarded. He acquired more. Took more. Became confident…but never friend.

…elsewhere…..

Staring out the window of her darkened suit in the Republic 500, Sly Moore watched the traffic of the new evening slip by her. Her right hand on the back of her neck, she wondered how she would pass the next trial. As it grew darker, her metabolism began to give off a faint glow - as was the norm for her people. Alone, she walked to the small kitchen and smiled thinking of the rogue Katan and his lessons on “sandwiches.” They had met quite by accident. His acerbic wit and easy banter made her want to know him. This human who acted so sure and was not.

…….on Dagobah….

For hours he sat still as the cloak of the dark side lay heavily on his shoulders. He used all that he knew from the oldest teaching to those of Qui-gon and his Living Force to find the danger. Remaining hidden had been for others protection, but also his and the Order. He could sense the fingertips of the Sith Lord stirring the darkness. He could feel a breach within the Chosen One. He remembered what she had said. “…good in him.” Was that the doubt? Yoda reached out in the Force and thought a name…

….Tatooine….

Preoccupied with his thoughts and uncomfortable with the remnants of attachment, his right boot took its first step onto the ramp of his ship. When a tickling touched a synaptic nerve deep in his brain. He stopped and listened. His head turned one way. Then another. The sound of the machine breathing suddenly stopped as he grasped for the link. He’d lost it. The machine started again. So…the Emperor was right. He left the hanger bay and returned to the bridge. He stopped briefly and gave orders.

“Return to Coruscant.”

[nefertiti]

He was kept waiting. It was his punishment for his failure to listen. To unfailingly believe. The outer office was crisp and clean. Its manager as crisp and clean as the space. His distain for it and her were apparent. He stood off to the side as others entered the long hallway to the Emperor’s private meeting room. It was during these times, he appreciated the mask he wore. Appreciated the fear he instilled with his presence. Yet…she did not fear him. As instructor for the Dark Jedi padawans, she knew much of the power of the Force. She used what she could to conceal something. That she should wish to do this intrigued him more than the fact that she could.

Subdued talk from the entrance way produced Grand Moff Tarkin and his cronies.

“Lord Vader, what a surprise. I had not expected to see you.” The titled gentleman said mildly. “I understood you had…a mission.” The smiles on his band’s faces and their inability to hold back the "snickers" brought the Dark Lord up short.

Placing himself in front of the noble, Darth Vader breathed, “If you find the need of my personal attention in training for your associates, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

Tarkin’s eyebrow rose as he sharply said, “Gentlemen enough. Lord Vader, my apologies for my colleague’s rude behavior. Find no fault with them, but with me. Perhaps a few days with your concentrated regime might be a good thing.” He could smell the fear on them. But he had encouraged it with his own opening remarks. Of equal authority within the Empire, Vader held the stronger bond with the Emperor. Of late, Tarkin felt he was tolerated rather than appreciated. His project and his interpretation of Vader’s actions were the only things that kept him valuable. For now. His report completed, Tarkin offered a half bow and gestured to his confederates their departure.

The Umbaran rose directing him towards the chamber. The walls of the hallway were unchanged and showed magnificent reliefs of a great battle.

If Lord Sidious saw a slowness to kneel before him, he did not comment. It was stubbornness that the boy kept into manhood. A trait Sidious had been unable to eradicate. He remained with his back turned, shuffling documents on a long table.

Without turning, “So my apprentice, you have found I am not wrong….again.”

[nefertiti]

Despite his previous leadership roles, Ackbar resisted assignment within the Rebel Alliance. Not because he didn’t believe in its purpose. Not that he didn’t feel the heat of anger in his belly. But because there were those who were better. The Mon Calamari were solitary beings. Social skills were specific to other Mon Calamari. Looking around the bridge, he saw with pride the number of beings who were willing to put their lives on the line for justice. As diverse as they were, Ackbar felt lacking. In the quiet before the meeting, small cliques talked and laughed. Others sat quietly waiting. Another group…seemed to him…to be doing a mating ritual. Too many cultures for him to cater to. For him to understand.

Turning in towards the bridge, he felt a great pride in his people. The MC80 Mon Calamari Cruiser, designated Home One, was a beauty. He saw that the non-Mon Calamari were having some problems with controls and he had a few ideas on getting them into shape. More comfortable with the Mon Calamari designs of the controls.

The technician had finished with the screen and was testing the slides as Mon Mothma walked in. He’d been waiting for her to take control of the meeting. She smiled as she saw him. Stopping here and there to greet officers and non-coms, she maneuvered her way to him.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Have I held you up?” she asked.

“No. The tech has just finished. You can start anytime.”

She stuttered, “I…can…start…?” She waited. “No, you're going to do this.” She took his forearm pulling him aside. “You are going to brief this group on the information you’ve brought. You will command this ship. You are the statistician and tactical expert the Alliance needs.” She released his arm and ran her fingers through her hair, “If we are to be an Alliance…” she hesitated, “Leadership is not based on culture, but on the ability to persuade. If you have doubts,” she jerked her head at the group finding seats, “they’ll know it and you’ll fail.” She looked up at him, “You’ve already proved your value. Now, it’s time to do what you do best.”

He stared at her face. So trusting. So much faith. Faith in him. “Very well.”

Moving into the group, he took the remote cue from the tech as quiet settled in the room.

First slid up….modified map of the galaxy. He began, “Since leaving the base at Dantooine, the Imperial Forces under the command of….”

Mon Mothma walked to the Captain’s chair and brushed her hand over the back. She smiled and wondered, did Ackbar wink at her? A soft laugh escaped her. Yes. She believed he did.

[sharyntyre]

Hey Nef great work! :bye:

Reading this is as much fun as working on my own tale. *points up* agrees with Zeddek more, MORE!

[nefertiti]

Any Force sensitive would have felt the Jedi Master’s call. To those who were lacking in the knowledge of their abilities, it was a quiet sort of déjà vu. To the trained it identified who the seeker was, but not the place. For those who stood on precipices, it said who and where.

He ignored the whisper and continued with the planting. His son’s voice failed to drown out the feelings. His wife’s laughter only made the whisper sharper. His hands deep in the dirt, he stopped. Loose bits of soil ran through his fingers. Lifting his head, his face darkened. He’d paid his dues. He owed no debt. He refused to answer.

The traditions of his people had undergone a great change after the Clone Wars. As the Empire reached out and subjugated worlds - decisions were made. To conform or revolt. Those who chose the latter were persecuted and killed. As tribal chieftain, he had urged for conformity. Enough of war for others. He and his people must survive. In the highest of tribal meetings, those who went to far were punished – in traditional ways, but they had decided to follow Imperial rules. Lived with what was. It was not wrong. It was a plan.

He stood as the thoughts ran through his mind. His interaction with notable Imperials was over. Had been for years. Most were dead. Would it even be safe to venture out of his hideaway? Having the thought made him realize that he would find a way. He did not understand why but he wanted to know. He lifted his head and breathed deeply of the air. The whisper replayed in his head…

Vos…

[nefertiti]

He’d thought it would be a long discussion. Surprisingly it was less than standard hour. That was the wonder of this woman that was his. Her determination, drive, compassion and stubbornness combined into this vision that….he chuckled…if he admitted at time exhausted him.
He held her close to him, “I will be invisible. Just another man on a journey.”

She push back and laugh at him running her eyes down the length of his form, then back to his devilish eyes, “You‘re right,” she spouted, “I wouldn‘t give you a second look!”

When Quinlan Vos called upon the seniors of the tribe and told them his decision to leave, his position was passed, by tradition, to his son with his mother’s counsel. In all the years she had live with his people, she had earned that right. The right of a Kiffu woman.

Traveling was not difficult. Getting to the port and catching a ride were as simple as pulling weeds in his field. The question was, reactivating the network so meticulously built and left unused. Or so he thought.

Making his way to Ahto City on Manaan, Quin entered one of the cantinas frequented by workers and lowlifes. There, according to the initial set-up, he bought a drink, paid for it with specific Republic credits and asked the bartender if he’d heard from Jettster.

The barkeep stated “Not in a long time. Ya need him? Leave your name and I’ll keep it around if he shows up.”

Quin shook his head, “No thanks. I’ll find him myself.” He finished his drink and left the bar. If the network was still in effect. He would return in 6 hours to find a message.

[nefertiti]

Out of the corner of his eye, Dex saw the flashing rose-colored signal on his console.

Well..well…well. Long time since he’d heard from that area. Reaching behind with his lower left arm, he hiked up his pants while simultaneously scratching his head with his upper right hand.

Well…well…well What to make of that?

Dex’s inherited network had never been compromised. In his mind he saw it as equal to - or better than Prince Xizor’s. The Black Sun had become way too visible over the years. Dex looked again at the flashing light. The outside contacts were the most venerable. To subversion and betrayal. Or maybe someone needed something…or had something. These were the times when he wished for a Jedi. He missed that sense they had. That ability to avoid trouble. His ol’ buddy Obi-wan and that kid of his were always talking and arguing about the Force, while they ate at his diner. He sighed. The diner. He missed the comings and goings of the diner.

But everything changed when the “Tin Can” showed up. It wasn’t long before some mucky-muck decided that Dex’s Diner and its past affiliations needed to be closed down. He sighed again. They were right. Dex had been able to hide a couple of Jedi just after the Temple business. But the smack down was almost immediate. And he was outta the cook business. The next few years were spent in the underground where the Eraser group protected the unwanted elements from capture or death. It was here that he learned about a network that had been set up. Originally intended for the Confederates, there was some doubt as to its real purpose or the originator of the network and the contacts slowly but surely went on to lead other lives. When Dex stepped in the majority of the actives had changed their minds about who were the good guys and who were the bad guys.

The flashing light continued. It would until he acknowledged it. Ahto City on Manaan. He looked at his map. Who was closest? Running his finger around the smooth surface, he stopped. Talay. Ratman. Perfect. Dex touched the rose-colored button – all it did was inform the sender that the message had been received. Adjusting his earpiece he opened a link.

“Ya, you there? So what…give me a break. It’s not like I call you everyday, is it?” He laughed. Ratman had no sense of humor. “Take a ride for me, will ya? Don’t give me that….. Manaan. Who? Where did you hear that? Why didn’t you tell me? Sure, that’s right. I live in a sewer with all the comforts of home and you’re worried about my dedication?” Dex was surprised. Ratman had been owned and operated by the previous owner. Now he was talking something about the previous owner. Ratman was holding out on him. “Ok, so you know about him. Go check it out and get back to me quick.” He waited. Then pulled his earpiece out and flipped on the speaker.

“You copy?” Dex insisted.

A masculine voice acknowledged, “Yes.”

[nefertiti]

Killing 6 hours was easier in a place where you weren’t surrounded by dura-steele and people. His familiarity with this starting point was little to begin with, now it was non-existent. He’d found a small park that at least reminded him of life. There he sat and waited out his time. Around him he watched kiosks of bright colors hawking their products; while passerby’s stopped and purchased. Drinks, foods, toys and trinkets. All things of life, but not of living. He thought of how much he had changed. A peace finally found, was he giving it up for something he no longer believed in? The hours gave him the opportunity to evaluate his past and possible future.

From the other side of the park, an old man entered leaning heavily on his cane, he hobbled towards Vos. The children running in the park saw the old man as a target of fun and began to pull at his coat and bump him. A tall boy pulled the cane from his hands and the old man stumbled and fell to his knees. The small group…no Vos thought…gang of children taunted the old man and Vos saw that this was going to violence. Without effort, he brushed his hand across his face. The children were pushed away from the old man, now huddled on the ground. Vos saw him look up at the children, who now angry thought the old man had somehow pushed them. The children looked at each other. Embarrassment and anger on their faces. They turned back to the old man but found a big man in front of them picking up the discarded cane. They forgot about being tough and ran.

The cane in his hands, Vos stooped down and pulled the old man up.

The old man abstractly adjusted his clothing and brushed off dirty and leaves. Then grabbed his cane from Vos and said, “About time. Were you going to let them beat me up?”

[nefertiti]

Xizor made himself at home in the Emperor’s personal sitting room. Secure in his feeling that as third in power to the Empire, he could take liberties. The Falleen appeared to be checking his grooming as he waited for the Emperor to question him about their plan. His eyes focused on the littlest finger of his right hand working at an unseen dark spot. He was actually seeing what there was in this room of benefit to himself.

Sidious’s cowl hid his face from the Underlord as he watched. His sneer of contempt for the ambitious Prince…he cackled aloud…

“Your Highness…something amuses you?”

The cowl raised, “No, Xizor, not at all. It went well?”

The Falleen stood and stretched. He aimlessly walked about the room. Looking at this…touching that…all the while answering the questions put to him by his…Master.

“Yes. Flawless. I have operatives on each courier. With a word from me…” He brought his right hand to his neck and sliced it across, then shrugged.

“Yes. Good. The alliance will be looking for those plan and will make themselves visible for us. Then we will destroy them. And the rest?"

Xizor returned to his seat and draped his leg over the arm, “Your man is on Bothawui waiting for his contact.” He smiled, “But I’d like to know how you got someone in so close. Close enough to be trusted? Like to share with me?”

“No. It’s not important that you know.” He returned the smile. “Lord Vader will now be a part of that search. Keep out of his way. I warn you.”

“Ah…so your tiff is over and he’s come back to the fold. I’m glad for you. You…rely on him so much.” His sarcastic zinger annoyed Sidious.

“All of my servants do what they are told, Prince Xizor. Or they die.”

...while just outside the room....

Where the Empire seemed to be going about its daily routine, Sly Moore saw the comings and goings within the private spaces in the palace. She hated this place. It reeked of death. It felt Jedi. Her silence kept her close to the Emperor. His habits and appetites like any other man were not satisfied with having it all. He wanted it forever. Because she had shown such loyalty in the training of the Dark Padawans, he brought her into his plan for immortality. His secret laboratory on Byss. And the Spaarti cloning cylinders. How she kept iced during that revelation, she will never know. But it was the change for her. Using the mundane, she finally made contact. She neither identified herself, nor did she give reasons for her actions. She gave places and dates. Numbers and movements. But they were not stupid. Somehow she met a man. She smiled. A sandwich man. And he was on Bothawui now. She hoped she would see him again.

[nefertiti]

Leaning back in his chair outside in the sheltered section of the bar, he slurped his drink. Today was his Good Fortune Day. Today he lifted a toast to his unknown benefactor. He did it every year on this day. That day 14 years ago, when his finances were gone, his shop and home confiscated for debts and he was on his 3rd night sleeping in an alley. Watto raised his mug and drank deeply. Good Fortune Day! The human had found him easily. Some said, Watto thought, he could be smelled miles away. But Watto knew that wasn’t true. He didn’t smell at all. He laughed. “Good Fortune Day!” Coughing as the ale went down the wrong pipe. The waitress gave him a sharp look. And Watto laughed again. His Good Fortune Day. Feet on the edge of the table he carefully pushed the chair back a little more. Remembering.

The stall was less than two boards pushed together. On it were several rusted tools, a few cogs with no matches and a variety of different oils and solvents used in mechanical work. Nothing here he would have ever bought, let alone have in his shop. But the boy kept the shop in good order. There were not tools in this bad of shape. And the garbage that got thrown out, he put back together and worked again. Watto missed the boy and his mother. They looked out for him, he thought. And he didn’t treat them badly. He thought.

The human approached his stall asking, “Watto? Are you Watto?”

“Whatca wanna buy? I got no time for meeting and greeting. What you want?”

The human ignored the shopkeepers bad manners and smell, “My name is Sydney Carton. I’m an solicitor with a bequest for Watto? Are you Watto?”

Watto’s eyebrow lifted. Bequest? That was money. His face showed his thoughts…or property? Or…? “Ya…ya..ya Watto last time I checked.”

[nefertiti]

Vos had returned to the bench as Ratman began to speak. “It is not the same network you set up. The contacts are different. The….” he hesitated, “…Runner is different. I came because at one time you were important to the Republic. I’ve told no one about you or your past mission. They also know nothing about me, except that I am loyal…” he stressed his next words, “….without fault to the Republic.” Rat settled himself next to Vos on the bench as he continued, “This entire part of the network will be shut down if I don’t make a report soon. Very soon. I’ll either leave or you’ll kill me. Either way, you’re at a dead end. Now, what do you want Master Vos?”

Quin hated being put into positions that didn’t favor him. His ego, which he’d thought was salved, sprung alive at the Rat’s challenge. No the taunt. Vos looked off across the park at the controlled sunset.

“You’re still a bast…”

Rat’s index finger of his right hand raised in warning. “Careful….” He said softly.

“You presume to threaten me?”

“You are still as arrogant as ever and that arrogance has not done well by you. What do you want?”

The anger in his face eased, “I was called.” He leaned into the small man and whispered in his ear, “By the Master of my Order.”

…en-route to Coruscant….

The trip back to the Senate was shorter than the one home. Her first order was to track down the distant end of a transmission received by an outpost still operating on Dantooine. The outpost was only a ploy, used entirely for its satellites to bounce message traffic. It was due for total shutdown in a month. But once it was gone, the transmissions, which had become very important, would pound into the walls. Technicians had determined that it came from Coruscant. Also that it had to be from some one within the inner circle.

Leia’s was going to attend every one of her program meetings, every session of the Senate and speak to anyone who might possibly be the sender. She was directed to use a specific phrase when ever she had the opportunity. It was silly enough to come from a girl on her own. Trying to make some points. But it would also let the sender know that she was part of the Alliance.

…elsewhere….

She’d found help on Kegan. A small shipping station, the manager Tabor offered her transport to another planet…friendly planet. She supposed she looked like she needed a friend. Mate-troubles. Tabor understood. He was married to a cow, who live 50 planets away. In his small environment, Tabor was the Lord. He liked her looks. Like how polite she was. And she looked afraid. It brought the hero out in him. If her old man was givin her trouble….then she needed his help.

He booked her on the next ship doing a touch and go. An orbit drop at Iego, then a stop at Brigia - a two man listening post; with the final destination at Muskree. Wouldn’t get her home, but it was a start.

[nefertiti]

The lists were made. The ships, compliment, weaponry and abilities were listed and ready to be deployed. Ackbar went over them one more time. Mothma would be pleased. Yes, there were still holes that desperately needed filling, but on the whole the numbers were better and getting even more solid.

After the Senator left, Ackbar stayed with the fleet orbiting Dantooine. He drilled them until they couldn’t take it anymore. Then he set one more drill. The times were good. No, they were better than good. Weapons drills were within Imperial standards, so for them they had to be 10 seconds shorter. And they were. The crews were well trained and knew their responsibilities and their crewmates. Were they going to win this battle or the next, he didn’t know. But what he did know was they were ready.

Ackbar setup a Captain’s meeting. It was time. He began with a confidence he now felt. A pride he knew he deserved, “Gentlemen, here are the final stats on the fleet. Their drill times are acceptable and with real time activation, I think you’ll see that they are very good. But we need to move them. We have grown and sooner or later someone is going to find us out. The fleet up here is like an arrow pointing down there, to Dantooine. I recommend we split the fleet up and position them in geo-synchronous orbit around the moons. Opinions?”

…on Coruscant….

Sydney Carton was responsible for the single financial boon given to Watto. He knew the payor, but not why. He refused to accept a retainer and walked away from what might have been the opportunity of a lifetime.

The right kind of lawyer is curious. And Sydney was no different than all the rest. It had been easy enough to match greedy associates to Watto. A little too much drink. Too much talk. Produced a story of a slave boy and his mother. A well known story. Almost legendary. The Hero With No Fear was that boy. The mother? Watto said he only remembered he’d sold her. Sydney couldn’t find a trace of her. The boy? The Hero? Rumor said he died at the start of the Jedi Purge. In a valiant battle with Lord Vader. A battle to the death. Then the Jedi ceased to exists.

His small office in CoCo Town provided him with all that he needed. He’d never married. His work was his life. And he believed in the law. In justice. Even as the system crumbled around him. He believed.

Carton only had 3 clients. One was dead. One was in hiding. The third was funded by the second.

[nefertiti]

The Emperor’s rebuke allowed him to flush those feelings of doubt from his mind. They were dangerous. Leaving the suite, he passed the Umbrian without a glance.

The hallways were full of minions and lackeys ready to do whatever they were told. They scurried back and forth to avoid him. Ahead of him, stepping off of the lift, he saw Director Issard. She saw him, smiled and walked his way.

A stunning woman, she proved that the wrapping doesn’t necessarily hold a good gift. Her lip rouge a dark red, with nails to match, she reminded him of a big cat. She ran her hand down the side of her body, presumably to assure herself that all closures were closed and that there weren’t any unwanted lint strays. Then she combed her right hand through that side of her hair.

She did present a stimulating package. But within the package was rot. Her hobbies disgusted him. Stopping in front of him, she roamed her eyes over him and up to his face plate. Her fascination with his lifesuit led him to other thoughts. His stomach turned.

“Lord Vader,” she cooed and paused, “Lord…Vader…. We’ve known each other for quite a few years; don’t you think it’s time we were better…acquainted?”

It was her personal relationship with the Emperor that was unknown. Otherwise, he would have killed her. Many times. For her dull-witted attempts to get…into his suit. His machine paused its breathing as he enjoyed his own joke. Then it resumed. He looked at the lacquered nail resting on his control box.

“Director Issard. Go play with some one else. You bore me.” He stepped around her and headed for the lift she’d just vacated. Behind him, he heard her click her tongue several times, “Maybe not.”

In the lift, with Issard dismissed, he reviewed his discussion with the Emperor. He didn’t know if the earlier touch of light or some point within him caused it, but as Sidious spoke, he didn’t listen. The gestures, soft voice and words, he droned on and on about, were more familiar to him than his inner most secret thoughts. As Sidious went back and forth about his lack of trust, for some reason, Vader remembered Mace’s face. Years ago, he’d resigned himself to being the representative of Sidious’ evil. Time had shown him the truth. Truths that….

“Lord Vader,” the Emperor asked, “are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Master.”

….elsewhere…..

“You’ve decided to play Jedi again. Oh. Joy.” Rat stood.

He was only responsible for the protection of this place as a cell. The planet as open to the Alliance. The networks success. Vos was out of play. Looking at him, he wondered if consciously or un – Vos was being used. He shook his head. Not his problem. He started to walk away.

Over his shoulder he told Vos, “Berth 36 has a small ship. Two man. Phony registration. Take it. Don’t come back here and I don’t want to see you again. Understand?”

Quin sat back on the bench, “Yes. Understood.”

Rat turned his body acknowledging Vos’ reply, “Force be with you, Master Vos.”

Rat stooped and hobbled his way out of the park. Occasionally looking to the left and right. Making sure those children weren’t going to attack him. The children he’d paid. He walked for approximately an hour. Stopped at a café and had refreshment. Then walked more. Several hours later when he felt it was safe to return to his apartment, Rat casually, while wiping his face with a cloth, removed the beard and mustache. As those pieces of identity were stuffed in a pocket, he dragged the cloth over his face again, revealing smooth tanned skin. With a sigh, Rat peeked on the ground at some shiny article lost by some unfortunate. When he rose the grey drab hair was gone. It was replaced by a braid of long brown hair with a tint of red. The bangs fell to the brows of brown eyes that focused on a shop window across the street. While tip-toeing to see better, the coat and trappings of the elderly, slipped off and were stuffed in a bag that had been attached to the waist… Watching peripherally, she watched for anyone overly curious at her transformation. No one paid her an attention. Too many people on the streets. Interested in their own problems. Crossing to the shop, Sabé stood at the window for a moment or two. Then decided there really wasn’t anything she liked well enough to buy.

[Zedekk]

WOW :D

[sharyntyre]

:vader: very good, nice flow and movement, twists and turns. Artfully done.

[nefertiti]

Vos was no threat. He knew nothing about the network. That was her main concern. Too many people…too many lives depended on it just now. The six couriers were as of yet unaccounted for. They were running and running fast. But Vos showing up at this time was alarming. And he was called by his Master. That could only be Yoda. The only Master - Vos ever remained loyal to - in a way. Dexter needed to know what she knew. And the others. Time to report in.

Back on Talay, her small apartment held the normal odds and ends of a single woman. It was simple but offered her what little she needed. There were 4 means of egress and her tronics looked like everyday household items. Dropping her bag on the chair inside the door, she began to pick-up items to assemble her comm-link. Her voice changer still attached to her neck, she opened Dexter’s personal line.

Instead of listening, he decided it was time for a long chat. A discussion on what she …or rather…what Rat knew that he didn’t know. She waited until he had to ask if “he” was still there.

“You’ll pass the information on?” She waited. “The contact was Jedi.” She waited as he spewed out lines and lines of questions. When he stopped and asked again…was “he” still there… “Jedi was Vos. I sent him away with a warning. You’ll pass the information on?”

Dex was still talking…actually he was yelling, when she cut the line. She smiled, he was really pissed. Removing her voice-changer, she opened another link. A pleasant sounding man answered.

“Typho.”

“Rat.”

She could hear a whirring sound. He said, “Authenticate.”

She ran her finger down a list of numbers associated with words. Stopping at today’s date, she replied, “Case. Authenticate.”

He came back with, “Dead.” She checked the list. Correct. “Secondary authentication.”

“Jabs. Authenticate.” Correct and her last signal was, “Deeds.”

“Going to secure line. Stand-by.”

As she waited for switches to initiate, she erased the day’s codes. Everyday they changed. Dex transmitted new codes at the change to new day. She remembered when he came up with the idea. It was good. He had many good ideas through the years. When Gregar Typho came back on-line, he sounded upset.

“Sabé, how do you do that? How is it that…”

Making her voice deep naturally, she said, “I love it when you talk that way. Makes me…hmmmm…”

“Sabé! Have you bugged my room? I want to know how you do that…every time I’m …” In the background she could hear a rustling. Movement. Gregar whispering.

She held her hand over her mouth holding back the laughter. As sweetly as she could, “I’m sorry…have I interrupted something?”

There was quiet.

She questioned, “I can call back.”

Typho said curtly, “No. Hold on.” After a few more minutes, “What do you have to report?”

The tone of his voice indicated he was perturbed. She decided to ignore it. They had been working together for to many years.

“The couriers are all traveling. No contact as of yet. I expect it will be some time before we catch sight of any of them. The information was split up between them. The transporter is on-sight and has enough cover for a prolonged stay.” She waited for questions and feedback. Quiet. She continued, “Had a contact from Manaan. I took the meeting. You’ll hear about it. I want to know what you hear.”

“You have doubts about the network?”

“No, but I like to test it every once in awhile. That’s it from my end. You have anything for me?”

“Ackbar has taken command of the fleet. Dantooine is all but closed down and he will be giving the order soon to move the fleet as well. Mothma has met with Organa and interestingly enough, the daughter is getting involved. Funds have been received and the new order of fighters is complete and ready for delivery. I’ll make those arrangements.” He waited. “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I can’t handle or you don’t already know about. I’m going to stay here for a day, then head to Coruscant. Dexter and Rat have had a disagreement and I want to assure him that he hasn’t been let out of the loop.” She paused. “You’re well?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yes. Out.”

[empire21]

This is really great nefertiti :thumbs-up:

[nefertiti]

Dexter was fuming. If he hadn’t been in the control room, he would have tore the place to pieces. Who did Rat think he was? His thoughts ran around in circles keeping the flame of anger alive. He could see lights on his boards flickering, but couldn’t get past an operative being so “lordly,” to answer them. This had to stop. Now.

Dexter took his seat. The worn chair groaned with his weight. The cushions tucked into the permanent gaps and hills of his body. His fingers tapped on the console as he formulated his report. He backspaced and retyped. Proofread and checked spelling. When finished he sat back and read it again. It was meatless, but the facts. Now time for recommendations. He had one. Quit the Rat. He related, in his report, his initial call to Rat. He expressed a curiosity as to information that the Rat may or may not have that could very well put the network in jeopardy. Again, he reread the report. He looked for anger. He looked for prejudice. He looked to get rid of the Rat. Then Dex walked away. It was his habit. Write his report; then walk away and look at it again in a couple of hours. S.O.P. Cool headed, he would edit it one last time.

He left the control room and headed for the kitchen. He wished he had a window, but hey…can’t have everything. Putting together a concoction that wouldn’t be fit for man nor beast, Dex sat and thought about the Rat and his first involvement with the network. But realized that he needed to go back even further….

The Erasers were well organized, but short on people, when Dex ran into them. With his resources, he was able to provide a stable central transfer ground. Refugees were in and processed out and off of Coruscant within days. More were saved. But they needed more help. When they’d come upon a running Sabé in the system, she recognized the bonus of a network on Coruscant. She’d returned to the planet after Amidala’s death to complete the legal transfer of the late Senator’s property. On the Imperial list as a “person of interest,” she was keeping a low profile, but someone saw her familiarity and…guess they reported her.

When the sewer “searchers” brought her back, he was speechless. She would have to live with that reaction the rest of her life. He blubbered…she explained. They talked. Seems another friend of hers had a small network up and running, but he had people troubles as well. Between them, they arranged a meeting. Sabé stayed on Coruscant to watch the Erasers in action. Typho arrived through the porthole that Dex had made. No one, Imperial or not, saw him come or go. Dex smiled remembering his reaction after Typho left…”We’ve gone inter-galactic!”

He’d never met the Rat. He was a part of Typho’s section. Typho trusted him. But now maybe he would have to look again at his credentials. The Rat knew stuff and wasn’t sharing. Time to clean house.

[nefertiti]

The demographics of Dagobah were not conducive to good order. It was a pit of murky water, crawling insects and a smell that would cause the staunchest of warriors to blanch.

But the finest Jedi was hidden there. The truest of teachers. The strongest of them all. Because he ran, Vos thought? No. Because he survived.

In all the years since the Purge, Vos had come across some Jedi. Those who sought him out from rumor or direction, found an iron-willed man unable to commit to involvement. Unwilling to give of himself again. He offered them nothing. They turned away.

He didn’t believe that he would make it to the system in the rag-tag, rattling ship. Its skin marred and rusted, the engine had an extremely annoying habit of flaming out, then back on. And the navigation…well…why think about that again. The fog and mist of the planet engulfed the small ship as soon as he left the upper atmosphere. It became a case of feeling for a place to land, rather than seeing. But land he did.

As the cockpit hatch slid back the smell wrapped around him. Earth, slime and stagnate water. The flying bugs attracted by his pheromones, he swatted and waved them away. Shrugging off his cloak, he jumped from the ship and landed in soft moss. Exacerbating another onslaught of insect curiosity. He looked around. The trees and shrubbery cut-off his view. The sounds hesitated then began again. Should he go looking? No.

Vos found an open spot and sat on the ground. The simplest form of meditation. The sincerest form which would allow for transmission and reception. He would wait and as he waited he would wonder.

Yoda heard the sounds of the ship. He waited. Leaning heavily on his cane, the sleeves of his roughly woven cloak caught on a coarse spot. He did not notice. The old Master’s head rested on his shoulders and tilted as he composed words of greeting. Words of happiness. Any words. Alone he had been for a long time. More time he would be alone. It would be good to hear another’s voice. For a moment.

As he approached the clearing, he felt a bud of anticipation building inside. He stopped and breathed. He was interested at his own reactions. Brushing back the branch, he saw Master Vos in meditation. The first the Padawans are taught. His lips parted in a smile. Of pleasure. Remember the beginning, he thought.

Shuffling into the clearing, he called out, “Master Vos! To see you well, I am glad.”

Vos opened his eyes, smiled and rose. He hadn’t changed. To see him was to know that everything would work out. That the sun would still rise, the moon set and children would laugh and play.

Bowing, Yoda heard him reply, “Master Yoda. You have need of me?”

[nefertiti]

After years of sabotage, strikes and outright revolt within the worker and slave communities, it was almost finished. The few things needing to be done were of minor consequence, but Tarkin, in his perfect way, wanted them completed before he would make the Death Star's presence known. To the galaxy. And now this business. He’d been kept in the dark. How did they do that? More importantly, why?

As the Devastator came about, Lord Vader assigned the members of his investigative team. The plans had been taken, obviously by the Resistance. Ackbar had escaped. They knew of various officials and Senators involved with the Resistance, but hesitated to apprehend without evidence. Specific evidence. Seven, excluding Ackbar, were missing. The weapon had been searched from top to bottom to verify the missing. Their names were know, descriptions distributed. Vader proceeded to do his Masters bidding.

….on Coruscant….

Xizor had waited in another office as the Emperor and his Apprentice …visited. He would have liked to have stayed, but that would not have served the Empire. Vader would have sensed the subterfuge. To be honest, Xizor wondered why the Emperor kept Vader around. He served no purpose but to scare the weak.

When Vader left, he was recalled to the Emperor. And found to his delight Ysanne Isard. The delicious Director of Intellegence. Behind and bent over the Emperor at his desk as he showed her…Xizor stretched to see….no. Ysanne took a step back as the Emperor rose covering the documents.

The Emperor pointed to Ysanne, “Xizor, you know Director Isard? Yes, I see you do.” He took her arm and together they walked into the center of the room. If the rumors of their relationship were just that, rumors, Xizor believed he now knew.

“Ysanne, Xizor and I have been plotting,” he sneered. “We have been watching a leak close to us and I believe it is time for you to take over.”

She moved away from him and took the chair nearest where the Prince stood. “Of course, Majesty. It would be my pleasure.”

Taking that chair meant that Xizor would need to pass in front of her and the Emperor in order to take the other one. He decided against it. He casually leaned against the chair Ysanne sat in. The Emperor laughed in acknowledgement. He returned to his desk and summoned his secretary.

Almost immediately, as if she’d been standing at the door, Sly Moore entered. Her unreadable face belied the inner turmoil she felt. He reveled in it. The fear.

“Ms. Moore. For many years you have served me. Served the Empire. But recent events have made me… doubt your sincerity.” He paused, “It is with great distress that I am relieving you of your duties.” Two Imperial Guards entered. Their red robed figures brought Ysanne to her feet. No matter who you were, you didn’t dismisses them.

“Ah…,” gesturing to them, the Emperor continued, “Please escort Ms. Moore to…” He looked at Ysanne.

She smiled, “The Lusankya.”

[nefertiti]

Leia was on her way to meet with the Emperor’s secretary, when she saw the Royal Guard and Ms. Moore between them. Something was up? Feigning tardiness, she skipped-ran to Ms. Moore, babbling along the way, loudly.

“I’m so sorry. I know I’m late, but the Representative from Malastare. He just goes on and on and I couldn’t get away. I have the numbers on the medical factors you requested. Can I beg you to let me sit with you now and go over them?”

The Guards had stopped allowing Ms. Moore to reply. Bending her right knee, Leia saw that behind the escort…and it was an escort…Director Isard was coming up the rear. Uh oh.

Sly Moore softly smiled, “Leia another time, perhaps. I’ll let you know…”

“And who is this pretty?” Ysanne Isard purred. “Someone you should introduce me to, Moore?” Ysanne ran the tip of her left hand forefinger down Leia cheek. She wet her red lips; then sharply. “Moore, introduce me!”

Cupping her hands together at her waist, Sly complied, “Director Isard, this is Princess Organa of the Alderaan delegation. Leia, Director of Intellegence, Ysanne Isard.”

Every nerve in Leia body was on silent alert as she made a small, awkward dip. But it worked, Isard was flattered. Leia looked to Ms. Moore again.

“I am sorry to be so late. Do you have time to meet with me. I could…I could fetch some sandwiches to save on time…if you’d like.”

Sly reached out her hand…the guards stepped in to stop her…Isard waved them back.

As she touched Leia’s arm, she said. “Sandwiches would have been lovely, but I’m on my way out. I’ll call you when I’m able to make time. Thank you, Leia. Thank you.”

Isard watched them closely. This snip of a girl was important, but…not bright enough to be involved…she kept shuffling those papers and jockeying back and forth on her feet. She now had a spot of dirt or something on her dress and her hair had come out of its coiffeur… No. She was unimportant. Except as a toy maybe.

But now she was bored, “Princess Organa…or may I call you Leia. Yes, Leia. Ms. Moore was just on her way out. For a few days. She and I are going to become acquainted. Why don’t I give you a call when I return. We can have dinner?”

Leia thought she was going to vomit, but kept control, “Yes…of course, Madam Director.” She turned to Sly, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I missed you. I’ll be sure to let the others…the other Committee members know you’ve been detained.”

Sly smiled again as the guards and Director Isard walked down the hallway.

[nefertiti]

The barkeep finally had to throw Watto out. He’d sat most of the day and well into the night before what cash he had on him was gone. Not a generous person, he never bought others drinks, they in turn did not buy him any. So when the money was gone, so was he.

He was an easy target for anyone on the street. Mumbling and weaving alone - just a few feet off the ground, Watto bumped into pedestrians, spat on complainers and made obscene gestures to those who wanted to fight. His shop darkened he didn’t see the two shadowy figures standing on the side of the doorway until they confronted him.

“Watto…” the deep voice commanded, “Watto, where the hell have you been. We’ve been waiting with your shipment for hours.” Two paws grabbed his wings and he fell to the ground. Bruised, out of breath and angry, Watto yelled.

“Solo! Get your Wookie off me!”

….on Coruscant…

He walked by the diner. The paint pealed away, the walls cracked. The left side had sunk into the ground. But it still had the ability to make you remember good times. He’d been there. The Besalisk’s good company and friendly chatter kept diners, employee and friends alike entertained for years. He’d been once or twice. Even introduced. It was a good time.

Continuing on, he entered the building behind the diner. The entrance was tastefully decorated and exuded luxury. He always found it humorous. The pass code gave him access to the inner lobby where he nodded to the major domo and proceeded toward the private lift. After being identified via two means, iris scan and DNA, Sabé, in disguise, finally found herself in the second basement.

The corridor led to a series of hallways. Each leading off into some darkness she preferred not to know about. The surveillance system monitored her movements and she waved to the watcher.

Dexter watched the young man enter and gain access. It was only when he saw the codes used that he realized he’d been had. He watched the monitors…looking for a way to see through the disguise. He zoomed in when “she” waved. Sabé was the Rat. The Rat was Sabé.

As the doors opened, he found the humor in it all and gave out a big laugh. He pulled the larger than life Rat-fink into his chest and hugged.

“You no good son of a acklay!” Sabé lost her wig and the voice changer, again around her neck, was dislodged. Her suit of fine silk crushed under Dex’s embrace.

“Ok! Ok! Now you know! Let me go!” She cried out good-naturedly.

He held her at arms length and could now easily see the young man in the woman.

His grin showed his twisted, brown teeth, “Nice to meet ya Rat!”

[nefertiti]

Bail stood in the center of his private office in the palace, his hands behind his back, he was deep in thought. Now she was involved. But he couldn’t have stopped her. If he’d said no, she would have gotten in on her own. Then who knows what she what trouble she would have gotten into.

Shelves of books papered the right side of the room. The bindings of different colors, sizes and textures, he moved towards the 4th shelf in the second stack. Pushing in on the 4th book, a shelf rolled out revealing a private, more secure space where Bail kept his personal journals. He didn’t read them as often anymore, but now seemed a good time. He reached for the first one and opened it. The writing was sloppy, but under the circumstances unsurprising. He reread his own story...

Borrowing a small craft from Polis Massa, Bail had taken Yoda to Dagobah. On the way, they talked of many things. Together they pointed out faults in their plan and solutions. They talked of the Force. Of Sidious. Yoda encouraged Bail to be cautious in his fight against the Emperor. Bail asked Yoda if Dagobah would give him safety. They spoke of time. How long? Neither could answer. Yoda looked a Bail, “Patience, we must have, my friend. Patience.”

The journey to the small planet was short and at the end they seemed to be rushing to get information out. Yoda told Bail about Vos and his mission. Yoda felt Vos was lost, but not in the physical sense. He gave Bail the name of the contact he used when he needed Vos.

Bail told him about the 2,000 and their plans to protest…but Yoda stopped him.

“No.” He said. “To be safe hide I must. Hide too you will. In the Senate. The most good you can do within the government. Watching.”

Bail had left the Jedi Master. Returned to Polis Massa and left for home with Leia.

Naboo’s new Queen was playing the game of cooperation. But not well. There were constant complaints in the Senate. Her representatives appeared for some meetings. Then were replaced. The Queen… she tried, but she was no Amidala. Typho ridden with guilt had left Naboo and started a small group of resistance. Sabé was going back and forth between Coruscant and other worlds. Her movements marked. He managed to contact them both.

It was when Mothma had to run, that he remembered Vos’ contact. Together, the 3 of them and Vos’contact devised a system to spy on the Empire. Gather information and pass it on to the Resistance.

[empire21]

:read: :ok:

[nefertiti]

“Answers I have not. Believe there is a reason. But the future I do not know.” Yoda sighed and rested tiredly on his stick. “Now is not the time, this I do know.” He raised his head and waved his arm, “Feel it I do. The Darkness breathes, but makes no move.” He settled on an old broken log. Inched his body on it looking for a comfortable spot. Vos followed.

“Master Yoda…I don’t understand, but somehow I don’t think I need to.” Vos pushed his hair back, “I’d lost my way.” He looked towards the swamp, “But when I felt you call, I couldn’t not come. I couldn’t ignore the bond.” He looked at Master Yoda, leaning forward asked, “What do you want me to do?”

...on Coruscant....

“You didn’t trust me? Have I been doin’ this all along and you didn’t trust me?” Dex’s face showed hurt and anger. “I put time, blood and money into this operation. For what? Cause you didn’t trust me. I never broke faith with you. Never betrayed you. Never broke your confidence. And you didn’t trust me.”

Sabé let him get it all out. She kept her face passive. Her body still. But she wanted to reach out to him. She wanted to assure him that it wasn’t him. Never him. She could do nothing but be ashamed for her actions…at some level it was exciting to play at “Rat.” But she found she didn’t like the fun she had had at Dex’s expense.

Before she could answer him, the monitors showed another visitor. Dex grew quiet, but was stonily silent as he watched.

Sydney had entered the control room many times in the past 15 years. But he’d know Dex even before that. He had always been Dex’s solicitor.

The choice to settle in CoCo Town was Sydney’s first and easiest decision. They were the people who needed help with the law desperately. But the pickings were bare. The work was there; the money to keep working was not. Across from his small 2nd floor office/apartment was Dex’s Diner. When he had time and the money, it was the place to be. The customers at the diner were not exclusive to the street. Sitting in booths or on barstools, Sydney saw diplomats, councilmen and women, even Jedi. After a few times in, Dex struck up a conversation. But it really wasn’t necessary. Dex knew who and what he was. As Dex told him later, he was feeling him out. It still wasn’t an overnight thing.

A short time after the Geonosis battle, Dex invited Sydney for java. The way he remembers it, is one of Dex’s Jedi friends had serious doubts about things within the government. But no proof. The conversation with the Jedi put Dex on his guard and on the spot, that evening at close up, Dex offered Sydney a retainer for his services. For the friendship they had built, Sydney refused the retainer, but accepted the client. His first real client. Dex argued and insisted about the retainer. He told Sydney that he was going to be surprised. At Dex’s first opportunity, they sat down and went over holdings. Sydney was floored. The diner represented less than 1 percent of Dex’s properties.

It took three years for Sydney to build dummy corporations, to hide the mass fortune Dex had accumulated. To buy organizations and resell them over and over again. All to the same buyer. Always the same seller. But the name changed every time. When he was done, Dex owned the diner. But Jetdex owned and operated businesses that spanned the galaxy.

He stopped remembering the past when he entered the control room, the tension made the air thick. Dex stood against a wall, his back to the door. Sabé sat in Dex’s chair. They were waiting.

He waited a moment then asked, “Should I return another time?”

[nefertiti]

“No stay.” Dex said softly. He was surprised at how quickly he’d lost his temper. It made sense that he shouldn’t know everything. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Sabé went to him, a question in her face.

“It’s ok, Sabé. Don’t worry about it.” His great hand rested gently on her shoulder. “I know.”

Sydney watched as the two friends forgave each other.

“Then I see I have arrived at a good time.” Sydney said cheerily.

Dex and Sabé laughed.

“Good. I want to update you on some accounts.” Sydney wheeled a chair over to the small table in front of the console. Dex took his chair and Sabé went for java.

Sydney usually made short work of these update meetings, but there were times when what he was talking about, when he moved monies, was way over Dex’s head. But that’s why he had put Syd on the job.

“…Incom has accepted our backing for a number of craft,” He smiled slyly, “to be delivered, of course, to a place of our choosing. Stock has risen in Corellian Engineering after an influx of new money and some changes in leadership.” Syd looked at Dex and Sabé, “They have requested more contracts.” He smiled again and took the cup of java from Sabé, “Two more MC80a prototypes are in the finishing stages and can be delivered immediately.” He looked at Dex, “You’ll notify Ackbar? And finally, the funds to the Alliance accounts…”

But he stopped in mid-sentence. Dex was staring at his console. The rose-colored light was flashing. With his head, Dex brought Sabé’s attention to the light.

“Damn!” She exclaimed. “I told him that end was closed.”

Syd watched, “You told? Told who what?”

“Long story; short version,” Sabé started. “Bail and Typho were not as completely sure about the old network, so…I played as observer…just to see if everything was on the up-and-up. We couldn’t let them know about this side just in case. We are sure now. The last operative left our service over a year ago. I kept up the ploy – waiting to see if we have a rat.” She looked at Dex, “Rat” – get it?” Dex nodded his head; Syd exhaled an, “Ah…”

Sabé continued, “Vos. Jedi Master Vos started the network, but after Order 66….well no one knew.” She shrugged, “Bail had a contact means; Typho, the contact and Bail met. End of story.” She took a breath, “Now Vos is back. He used a contact; I was led to believe was specific to him. I met him as…Rat and told him not to call us again. Seems I didn’t make my point.” She looked to Dex, “What do you want to do?”

Dex looked at Sydney, then Sabé. “Answer the call.”

[sharyntyre]

:read: :wtg:

[nefertiti]

Another courier made it to Ylesia. The plan was to stay put when there was enough cover. The courier was comfortable with the cult that had set-up shop. The problem was getting to involved. The Exultation was addictive. Like all addictions, there is nothing wrong with trying it out the first time. The second time, you’re reviewing the feeling again. The third time you’re indulging yourself. It’s all down hill from there. In order to get that feeling again, you did what you had to. The courier was on the second try. Xizor’s shadow left. No reason to wait.

on Coruscant.....

“Are you coming straight from the Lusankya?”

Isard replied with a worried look, “Yes, Majesty. To make my report.”

The Emperor gestured with his right hand, “I only ask because you’ve a spot of…maybe …blood on your forehead.” He paused as she raised her finger to the spot. “I know how fastidious you are.”

She gazed at her finger. It was blood. She was surprised at her lack of self control. Then licked her finger clean. “You gave me great pleasure today,” she bent her head, “I thank you.”

The Emperor of the Empire cracked out a laugh. Deep, raspy and old, “Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

...and....

The third courier stopped at Ruusan. Or rather was stopped. There were no transports going into Bothan space. He would have to wait.

....back on Coruscant....

He was just about to open the rose link, when the company line began to flicker. Dex put it on speaker.

“Operator. Can I be of assistance?” Sabé queried.

A squeaky voice responded, “Is this…is this the office of Jetdex? I’m trying to get a hold of the shipping Manager. This is Vacilly on Kegan. We’ve…we’ve had an accident.”

Eyebrows rose as Sabé replied, “Hold on please, I’ll connect you.”

After a few clicks, Dex barked, “Shippin’ this is Alucard.”

“Yes, sir. My name is Vacilly. I’m with the Kegan shipping outpost. The director of shipping has died and we…we…didn’t know what to do.”

“Died? What do you mean died?”

“I don’t know. He is dead. Found him at shift change. Dead.”

“Vacilly, hold on. I want to verify.” Dex put him on hold.

“I gave directions to Kegan for an escape route. Tabor is the manager. Known him since Org Sigatt. Good man. But that means some one is watching. Syd, it’s a small outpost. Shut it down. Give bonuses and vacation time. Double check the credentials on all personnel. Re-hired those you feel are ok.” Sydney nodded as he took notes.

Dex reopened the line, “Hey, Vacilly. I let the boss know and he’s going to take care of it. You guys alright?”

“Ya, no worries. Last ship out was bound for Muskree. We have a drop off in 12 hours, but dead…oh, sorry. But down time after that.”

“Gotcha, Vacilly. Do the work. You’ll be hearin’ from us. Alucard out.”

Without a pause, Dex link to the rose-colored light, “Ya, what do you want?”

Jedi Master Vos hissed, “Information.”

[nefertiti]

When identifying the path of least resistance, one often finds that ego is resistance in itself.

The conference room was full of senior tactical military men and women. After assigning a team leaders and seconds, the star maps were projected on two walls.

Red, green, blue, gold laser dots appeared as each submitted their ideas.

But Ackbar was looking for something specific. Something that would… Wait. He looked for the writer of that scenario. One of the quieter officers. And his idea was getting pushed away before he could complete the path and his reasons for the direction.

Ackbar watched as the team leader waved his hands about in frustration. Ackbar looked at the map again as the blue dots began to disappear.

What he saw of it was ambitious. It could keep crews on alert for over a day. It might mean a few rough patches in Imperial controlled space.
The blue dots gone, he looked for the officer again. He now sat looking up at the team leader as he laid out his own idea. Ackbar watched as the officer politely raised a hand to speak. He was “over-looked.”

Ackbar gestured his Attaché over. Without pointing he asked who the man was? The Attaché quietly replied, “Vernan.”

Ackbar nodded. He wondered why the ideas presented were so easily dismissed. The man had an established reputation. Precise, clean reports and information that always panned out. Why was he suddenly being ignored?

The discussion continued for several more hours until Ackbar called a halt. Without bias. Without rancor or sarcasm, Ackbar addressed the company, “We are going to go with Vernan’s plan. I want fleet proposals in 3 hours.” He waited. Yes, he’d been appointed by Mothma - over the others with far more experience. But he had seen that there were times when the military minds were overpowered by egos. Something he did not have. He neither wished for power, wealth or recognition. He wanted peace. If he had initially felt overwhelmed by the appointment or lacking, he’d seen why she had done it. Why - and he agreed.

Ackbar stood, “Generals Sewell and Rieekan, I’ll see you in my quarters before that time is out.” With that the Commander-in-Chief left the conference room.

…on Tatooine…

Solo and the Wookie had finished loading the cargo, Watto had used as barter for the components they’d brought him, when he heard paying customers in the shop.

Pushing the two smugglers out the back door, he reached the counter before the two young men managed to peek behind the “scene.”

“Whatda want?” He rasped out. Always sure that his customer service was what the customer wanted. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he believed getting to the point and hustling the buyer out fast meant good business.

Luke’s voice still had a hint of boy in it as he demanded, “That power converter you swapped out two weeks ago failed. My Uncle said to get another one off you…at no charge.”

Watto began listing his seller’s rights and argued with Luke about “buyer beware” while Biggs looked around.

Solo and his Wookie companion, Chewie, boarded the Falcon. Their next contract was with Jabba. Solo thought to himself, finally the big times.

….on another planet….

Something inside cracked. He’d been through everything possible and kept his sense of humor. His strength and mind secure in the reasoning he’d waded through to stay Quinlan Vos. To remain if not …a good Jedi. A Jedi.

But Yoda said things that shattered that minute piece of hope within his soul. Vader. Skywalker. The Chosen One. If without knowing it, he had been waiting for the balance. He now knew that it was not to come.

Waiting for a response from the faceless voice on the link, Vos, again, heard the tremble in Yoda’s voice. He’d never heard that before. It made him afraid. It made him ashamed. The Jedi were no more. A growl or maybe a groan worked its way up from the pit of his stomach. So few left. He had abandoned them when they needed help. Hope.

He had a task now. He would not fail. Decoy, Master Yoda had said. Distraction, Yoda asked. Cause a disturbance. Something that would attract Vader.

Finally the link re-activated, “What do I get?”

Vos smiled evilly, released his hold on the barkeep’s throat and hissed back, “What do you want?”

Watching Vos leave, Yoda felt his spirit break and wondered if he should have told Vos why. If he should have said something about the children. Given him a new hope.

[empire21]

Love the last line :thumbs-up:

[nefertiti]

…in the end, they agreed to a meeting. Neither budged on what they wanted, but it was decided that the only “independent” - Rat - would swing by and pick Vos up. Then they would determine the where.

As Franz Alucard, shipping manager for Jetdex, Dexter had a certain freedom. Freedom to buy and sell what he wanted. And as Besaliks didn’t register on identity scans- not bodily fluids, iris scans - nothing - Dex had a little more freedom. To quote an old saying, one Besalik was like another. Now to see one was a different story and Dexter Jettster was a recognizable Besalik. That was why he remained hidden, but free. While he hid he looked. Looked for a ship. He’d waited years for the right ship. Not new, not old. Not fancy, not fast. The perfect ship.

Melinda’s Glory. A YT-2400 light freighter. She wasn’t much to look at when he first saw her, but she had a backbone he loved to touch. He re-outfitted her dorsal and ventral-mounted Dymek heavy laser cannons… hand-modified by Rendar. They were turret-mounted on standard Corellian 1D servo mounts, and could be fired from either gunnery wells or the cockpit. Built into the main command pod were a pair of forward firing concussion missile launchers armed with a magazine of three missiles each. She had a modified SoroSuub Griffyn/Y2TG; Class 0.75 hyper drive, who’s backup provided Class 10 performance. And just in case, the Melinda - Mel for short - was equipped with highly illegal and highly effective sensors.

The Melinda was Glory. Years of spending on her, she was the first lady he never thought twice about slapping the dough down on the counter. She was the woman he made love to. He’d heard that sea Captains sometimes felt this way about their crafts. So it never made him uncomfortable that his fantasies were complete when he sat in her pilot’s chair. This time though, Mel was going to be driven by Sabé and he hoped she wouldn’t disapprove. Mel - not Sabé.

Her highly paid for berth was semi-private - so as not to get too many interested parties and Dex swaggered as he personally took Sabé to met Mel. Dressing for this appearance was easy. A long coat, pants and an old fashion hat -soft, flashy and green. Ya, I know - like a bull’s-eye on your back, but hey, that was Franz. Franz Alucard. Man about town. Rich man about town. Playing with his toy. Strolling into the hangar, Dex’s body rolled and swayed with his new persona. As he passed workers and dockmen, some would wave or call out. He answered; to not do so would cause concern.

The Melinda shined and twinkled at him. Just for him. He smiled at her and whistled. Her automatic sensors opened the front hatch, and Franz Alucard was folded into his girl.

…and somewhere else….

The attackers poured through the breached door. The dark clothing they wore also masked their faces. Black Sun was his first thought. Sword met sword with an unnatural belling clang. He called out a warning. Black-armored warriors joined the black assassins. His bare feet sensed the vibrations of many. His hand found a knife. A man in black armor charged him. He drove a knee into the man’s groin, then stabbed the knife through the hollow of the neck. He crouched, dagger raised to meet the swarm of killers. He back stepped - a black warrior lunged. His hand on the knife was slick with blood, his grip slipped as he stabbed. The enemy fell. But he lost the knife. Feeling around in the slaughter, he felt the hilt. The looming figure approached. It was him! He placed himself before her, but was thrown across the room crashing into the wall, he lost the hilt. The figure raised its arm, its hand closed. He looked to her. With her hands she tried to tear and rip the pressure against her throat. A light shown. He cried out, “Ben!” The light shone on him, then her. Now a limp cloth doll. Then Kenobi turned the light to the figure. “No!” He screamed over and over again…

Lord Vader woke with a start. He whispered, “No” over and over again. A short time later, he said the name, “Ben?”

[nefertiti]

Leia moved quietly through the hallways of her father’s palace. There wasn’t any need. But she had a feeling. Making her way to the office, Leia found that she stopped several times. To listen. For what, she couldn’t say. But that feeling made her anxious. She pushed against the door and entered as he father finished his sentence.

“Leia,” he smiled, “we’re glad to have you home.”

She smiled and walked towards him, leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “Me, too.” She walked to a chair next to Raymus – touching his hand – then sitting. “But not with the best of news. I think I can identify the source of the information, but I also think she is no longer available.” She related her brief conversation with Sly Moore and Director Isard. Both men looked at each other, then back to Leia.

Bail’s face masked the fear he felt as he told her, “Ok. You’re out of this. Isard? She’s an animal. I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

“How did I know you were going to say that?” She responded. With a slight laugh more for herself, than to dismiss what she could hear in her father’s voice, Leia pointed out, “I’m still a nobody. A Senator’s daughter playing at important. Don’t you see?” She paused, “I’m not saying that being there isn’t dangerous, I’m saying I’m not the type the Imperials are looking for.”

Raymus nodded his head in agreement, “She’s right Bail. She’s followed you for years through the Senate. If anything, she has kept you from looking guilty.”

“Maybe,” Bail said looking at Leia, “but things are starting to move and I couldn’t face your mother if anything happened to you.”

“….things are starting to move?” Leia questioned.

Raymus finally sat, “Yes. But maybe in the interest of safety, Bail, you should head back to Coruscant while Leia…" he thought for a moment, “…could visit Bothawui. Mothma’s still on Corellia. The Bothan’s have been interested only in their own culture – which in the long run could work to our advantage."

Bail agreed with a slight nod but couldn’t stop thinking about Leia and…Isard. “Yes, Leia,” he questioned, “during your internship didn’t met Fey'lya’s intern?”

She smiled, “Of course….and this would be a good time to reacquaint myself, don’t you think?”

…near the Maw….

Fett watched as Lord Vader paced…and it was pacing…back and forth. His breathing and step were synchronize, but not, Fett felt, with his thoughts. He had been surprised to get the call. Their past associations ended on less than friendly terms, but there was Fett believed a power within the Dark Lord that transcended the suit, the position and perhaps even the Sith.

There were only a scattering of people on the bridge as Lord Vader told him what he needed…what he wanted. Another look but don’t touch. So long ago. The trail would be cold.

[nefertiti]

Hard decisions made, Ackbar reviewed the plan. The fleet broken up into two Task Groups commanded by Generals’ Sewell and Rieekan. They, in turn, assigned Task Forces and then Task Units. Each commanded by senior officers with battle experience. Ackbar had made one request. He’d asked that Vernan be commander of a task unit within Ackbars’ force.

The first Task Group, designated Sweeper, was commanded by General Sewell - who formed two Task Forces and three Units. The ships positions followed standard Imperial formation. The Units rotated duties as scout and rear ships look-outs. Long range sensors and hyper drives online, they would transverse the more difficult route. From Dantooine through the Atrivis Sector - Mantooine - Bandomeer - cross the Hydian Way, south of the black hole and then north to Yavin.

General Rieekan as commander of the second group, Covert, was less than enthusiastic to find that his chances at combat were slim - very slim. Mirroring the same formation, they would head for Ord Janon - Telos - Almania and then Yavin.

Both routes were brilliant in that they forced the fleet to test itself against - itself. The adrenalin pumping 24/7 for Sweeper as they looked for Imperial conflict and for Covert as they found the cogs that would make them a single force.

Ackbar made note of each ship; its name; the captains; crew compliments; its weapons. Both groups had adequate medical personnel if the worst happened.

As the two generals waited for him to give the word, Ackbar committed himself to all of his wants and needs. Without fanfare he accepted the responsibility of command. For a nano-second, he explored the feeling. It wasn’t what he had thought it would be.

Looking up at the two men, his gravely voice gave the order, “Very well. Let’s get underway.”

[sharyntyre]

great stuff, I look forward to seeing the big battle.

[nefertiti]

He had started out associating himself with this group or that. It seemed a smart move. Even a protection at one time. But to make it permanent, to listen to the continual self-worth lectures – would have soon enough made him angry. Instead, he insinuated himself into several of the more powerful organizations. He became just one of the gang so to speak.

It seemed to him that as those “lords” rose in influence and power, those about them suddenly took on new but less intelligent habits. Sometimes he thought that if they – those hanger-on’ers – had been performing some sexual act – they should have high grades for all of their efforts.

As Fett strolled into Jabba’s throne room, he wryly smiled as he saw all the head bobbing action. Yes, high grades.

The majority of the crowd in the room was centered on the music and dancers. Almost glued to Jabba left shoulder was his “mouth-piece,” Bib Fortuna – head bobbin’ away. Slouched before Jabba, hands’ waving around was Solo. Fett knew Solo…knew about him as well. Fett stood back as he listened to Solo’s tact – which in Fett’s opinion was a failure. One did not tell Jabba anything – one presented an idea – then waited for Jabba to like it.

Han Solo took a step forward, “But Jabba that part of space is flooded with Imperials looking to tag anyone doing anything that they don’t approve of.” He paused, “Look, I’m ready to pick-up load of spice and deliver – on time – but I need to go my way. I know Kessel like the back of my hand.”

Fett watched as Jabba reached into the bowl for a tidbit to eat.

“Owa tchu engh bahanero.” Han looked to Bib, “Lord Jabba says take your way. I say, Solo, better be sure.” Jabba slipped the wiggling piece of swamp scum in his mouth. Bib said, “Go Solo. Go.”

Han backed out and waved Chewie to his side, as they passed Fett, Han nodded. Chewie gave a soft growl.

Bib spotted Fett and made his way towards him.

The creature made Baba feel dirty. It was most likely due to his close proximity to Jabba. And the smell… Fett opened the conversation, “I’d like to look through some of Jabba’s old contracts and notes – oh, somewhere about the time of the fall of the Republic.”

“Specific thing that might be of use to his Lordship, maybe”

Fett didn’t want to give out information, especially to this group, “No, I’m looking for information. I’ll pay if that’s what you want.”

Bib didn’t like that Feet kept his helmet on – he couldn’t see his eyes. He wondered though – what was Fett up to?

“No, no need. You are one of us. But if you do find in your search of some importance…” He let the sentence die out.

Fett tucked his arms together against his chest. “Of course. When there is money to be made, I’m your man.”

[nefertiti]

With Sabé on her way to meet Vos, Sydney meandered about his office. Picking up one thing then putting it down. He was concerned and not concerned. He knew Sabé well. Or well enough.

Dex had been running the Eraser’s for sometime when Sabé stumbled into the sewer system looking for escape. The spotters believed her story and she was introduced. Like most men…and some women, Dex held his breath when he first saw her. The resemblance was…. almost instantly, he realized his error. That day he had lost most of his friends…but the Republic had lost much more.

Designated a “person of interest,” Sabé was first followed when she arrived on Coruscant, then the order for her arrest was issued. She fled. And he and Dex had another link to the rebels. Her purpose for being on Coruscant? To acquire legal representation for the properties of the late Padmé Naberrie, once Queen of Naboo and deceased Senator of Naboo. The properties in question? Such things as personal items, letters and jewelry, and surprisingly there was also lands, stocks, and accounts. According to the last Will and Testament, all of these items would be held in trust until her properly identified heirs stepped forward. Sabé turned that responsibility over to Carton and he had fulfilled each step. Securing a small but tidy sum for …someone.

….and below the city….

The cool, clean decks of the Lusankya resembled Ysanne as she walked the passageways. Her uniform immaculate. Her hair, face and nails perfect. Her obsessive compulsive behavior identified her as an ignored, possibly abused child. Her revenge at that possible diagnosis - the killing of her father - eased whatever actual pain there was. Now she found enjoyment out of her daily duties.

The 04 level was her private area. There she conducted interviews. Interrogated prisoners. Experimented on traitors. And disposed of the waste that might be left-over. As the lift doors opened at her level, she sighed in deep contentment. It was all thanks to her father and his botched attempt. Her red lips smiled as she thought of how she turned the tide on him.

Outside the cell, she composed herself. She wanted to be prepared for the results of her visit with Ms. Moore. As the door slid open, she wondered what degree of intensity had been necessary to start the process? And even more exciting…how far could she go?

[nefertiti]

Sidious’ plan to attend the theater for this evenings performance of his play was delayed by the arrival of Xizor. In retrospect Xizor thought he should have let the Emperor go.

“Sire,” he began as he bowed, “one of my operatives has returned with a report on an escaped workers. It seems, she’s become addicted to that…cult on Ylesia.”

The Emperor’s head shifted, “He left the courier alone? There is no one watching?”

Xizor saw immediately his error and quickly, “I’ve have sent the operative back to watch. If anything it was only a day or two at most.”

The Emperor seldom used Sith abilities. As his power became more cemented, he felt that they were obsolete. He was the power. Others were the ugliness. But his anger grew. His thoughts of betrayal grew. He flung his hand violently and Xizor flew across the room, slamming into the wall. A vase of flowers picked fresh that morning cracked and smashed to the floor. Xizor tried to get up, but something was broken. The Falleen twisted on his hip and managed a sitting position. He leaned against the wall.

The Emperor in all of his darkness loomed over him, “If I thought for one second you were hedging your bets, I’d kill you now. Think well, degenerate, before you try to subvert my plan. Think well.”

“Never your Highness,” came the shocked voice, “I give you my personal assurities. The Rebels will not obtain the plans.”

Sidious had walked back to his desk and softly replied, “See that they don’t.”

….Alderaan…

Leia was making the last few changes to her flight plan when she received the message. Director Isard asking if she had yet met with Ms. Moore? If not, she would be happy to set-up at meeting. If the Princess was available in the next few days…? Leia sat back in her chair. Was she wrong about Sly Moore being dead? Ysanne Isard was not known for being…compassionate. Leia tried to see a way to accomplish this meeting without getting involved with Isard, but it was impossible. To know about one was to see the other. She had a bad feeling about this….

….the Death Star….

Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin was incensed that Lord Vader was given the task of investigating the escape and stealing of the plans. Socially unacceptable, Tarkin appreciated the calm, analytic mind that was Vader…but the creature was not to be included. He care nothing for his beliefs, nor for the continual persecution of the old ways. Only with education and opportunity can the Empire change the face of the galaxy, not with murder, intimidation and assassinations. The rise of Xizor disgusted him. Soon the common folk would associate the leadership as criminals. Tarkin greeted and waved Vader off. He felt Vader was perfect for the job. Killing scared rabbits.

…Ackbar….

Mothma’s Orders….
1) Avoid Battle; 2) Send a Detailed Report on the State of the Fleet; 3) Complete the Training of the Fleet; 4) Reorganize Fleet Replenishment; 5) Maintain a High Level of Morale in Your Command; 6) Organize Raiding Forces; 7) Be Prepared to go to Battle within a Month's Notice.

To do one was to disobey the other. He made his report. Now was time to attempt the others. He stayed the course.

[nefertiti]

Ackbar expected no trouble with Sweeper while passing through the Atrivis Sector. But they were putting it out there. Better to be safe than sorry. He kept the group on modified battle stations, while reports were received every 15 minutes from the Carpagian, forward, and the Freedom, astern. Ackbar watched the 3 daggers loop in and out of the group.

He had no station on the bridge, he was Commander of the ship, but General Sewell was General of the group. He watched the man give orders, listen to stats and build a rapport with his crew. Just as he wanted. Condor, Cruuz and Frazier maintained an even distance from Home One. This was her maiden voyage - untried, not commissioned - her price tag was incredible. She had to be kept safe. The Duty Free had been outfitted as a weapons craft and two gun ships remained farthest from the group. Home One’s position in the group - so tightly fitted in the center, could be construed as dangerous, but Ackbar didn’t necessarily feel that way. With a battlecrusier pulling up the rear, everyone was sufficiently protected.

The remaining ships moved in and out of formation. Sensors would read a black hole. They hoped. The drawback…a moving black hole. Brilliant, foolhardy and if successful…one for the books. Vernan was onboard the Freedom - he could have had a better command, but he indicated he wanted to be able to see the group and being aft - that he could do. All was quiet as they passed Phaeda.

On board Ossus Day, General Rieekan’s Covert held the same formation. He had more maneuverable ships, maybe better fire-power - but he also had more ships. And the more experienced crew. He almost wished Ackbar was with him. Abubka II and the Old Republic took forward and again, the old out-of-date daggers twisted and turned within the group. The Defiance took center stage, with the Maximus nosing out front. Behind and beside them, transports, vets, assault and gun-ships. Both Ord Janon and Telos were hot spots. If anything was going to happen, it would as they closed in. His crew on modified battle stations, Rieekan knew a lot of them. He could name names and ask about families. As he looked forward at the tail end of the Old Republic, he decided he got the better deal.

….on Tatooine….

If the power converter did not put out a specific amount of current, the wind fans would not run, the moisture nets would not gather and they would be broke. The crop would die, even worse, they would be water-less. Owen watched as Luke pulled out the “trade-in” and dragging his feet made for the shop to re-work it…again. Beru was right and he knew it. This wasn’t the life for Luke. Looking up, but neither was there. He watched the R1 amble along. It would need to be replaced soon, but first the crop needed to be harvested….

Obi-wan Kenobi wasn’t surprised at Owens’ behavior. But he was hurt. When had he made that connection…that attachment? When did Owen…and Beru….and Luke become more than beings he was assigned to watch over. Was this something he still missed in the teachings of his old Master? Was he not paying attention that day? Obi-wan rubbed his chin. He looked at his hands. He was an old man. The years had passed and… He shook his head. No. He was not alone. He rolled his head across his shoulders. Adjusted his body and calmed himself. His breathing controlled, his focus single, Obi-wan found the Force. He was not alone.

[nefertiti]

The Melinda arrived as all other ships did. Requesting and receiving confirmation to dock, assignment of berth and inspection by the local authorities. Taxes and all. Several hours after the inspectors left, Rat lowered the boarding ramp and waited. It wouldn’t be long, “he” was sure. Rat was concerned about Vos’ realization that the “Rat” of today was not the “Rat” he had originally put into place. That operative had died years ago and in order to assure that the network remained solid, it was decided by Bail and Raymus that as a woman used to disguise and very able capabilities, she would, when necessary, play the role. Funny, she thought, how they had come full circle. Was it all coincidence or did that thing called the Force really have an active hand in all that happened.

“Permission to come aboard?” Quietly came to her. She stood and replied, “Yes, permission granted." The Melinda automatically took full scans of the visitor. The standards and more.

Vos raised his hands as he entered, showing them to be empty as he shrugged off the cowl over his head and face. Reaching to the voice changer at “his” throat, the Rat chuckled, “Like you needed a weapon. Enter Vos. You are secure here…for now.”

…….back on Coruscant….

Leia’s hands full of records, pads and a disposable container, she entered Sly Moore’s personal office. Only to find it dark - which was not unusual - but empty. She looked around concerned that she had gotten the invitation wrong. When the door opened again, Ysanne Isard strode in. She seemed upset and, to Leia’s surprise, uncomfortable, almost agitated.

“Director Isard…?”

“Oh, Leia….I’m so sorry….something has happened to Ms. Moore. She’s… very sick and after all of our planning is…will be unable to meet with you.” Ysanne was moving around the room. Here and there, touching things.

Leia sensed a great danger and played at girl, “Oh, no. That’s terrible. Where is she? Can I visit with her? Does she need anything?” She ran the questions off and carefully watched the Director’s face. Yes, a trap.

At first Leia thought she would deny her a visit, but strangely, “Yes, I think a visit would be good for her.” She moved closer to Leia and patted the records and pads, “But no work. Don’t you think? And what is it you have here?” As she pointed to the container.

Leia laughed. It sounded forced, “Sandwiches. I remember her saying something about sandwiches.”

Was there a gleam in Isard’s eye as she smiled, “How nice of you to remember. Shall I take it to her?”

“But I thought you said…?”

She took the container, “Yes, yes…that you could visit. I think tomorrow would be better. It will give her a day to …to put herself back together. Will you be staying on Embassy grounds?”

Leia didn’t want to stay another hour let alone another day, but she wanted to find out about Sly. She hesitated and could see in the change in Isard’s face - that she also saw that hesitation, “Yes. Tomorrow.” She began to make her way to the door, “I’ll call you tomorrow about the visit?”

Isard leaned against Sly Moore’s desk, “Yes, my dear, you do that. Call me tomorrow.”

….on Tatooine….

Beru’s quiet time was while doing dishes. She would stand at the sink full of water and wipe and rise each plate and bowl, while she listened in the back at Owen saying something to Luke. Or Luke being difficult with Owen. Always the same. When would he see that it had changed. Was it because he’d grown up and they hadn’t noticed? Or was it Ben and his promise? She sighed and paused. She remembered. She remembered doing dishes with her. They’d laughed in the midst of everything over “womanish” things. Beru raised her head and remembered her smile. The soft tenderness in her voice when she spoke about him. Him. He hadn’t even introduced them to her when they’d come. She had to do it. He was shyly hesitant when asking about his mother. The something happened to his eyes. They went cold. Black. She thought…

“Aunt Beru…?”

She turned, “Yes, Luke…I’m almost done.”

…in Jabba’s records room…

Boba was not at all surprised at the excellent record keeping. Jabba was after all in business. It was only Boba’s status within the gang that allowed him complete access to them. And the things he read. There were a few he might even be interested in. But for now he was looking for an unusual entry. Something that would give him a direction to go in. He saw the entry about the Nubian royal starship and the Yacht. But nothing afterwards. Boba sat back. Royal Yacht. He’d followed the path of a similar ship years ago when Lord Vader asked him to… Could they be one in the same? How many Royal Yachts could there have been. Mustafa was a mess when he’d started that job, but he had managed to find that - that yacht had ended up on Polis Massa. From there - nothing. Perhaps a trip to Naboo was called for.

….Atrivis Sector…

The Victory 1 Star Destroyer - Aggressor under the command of Captain Nemet was on its last leg before doing some down time. She, the two Galleon frigates - Rohn and Ionia - and the corvette - Kerok were tired. Tired of this system. Tired of the inactivity. Not for the first time, Nemet wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Instead he expressed…yes, that’s how it was presented to him - expressed an opinion. One that was contrary to popular belief. And then he found himself here. Patrolling an area where the inhabitants of this sector were more violent on-planet then they were getting off. The “dog” watch doing turnover, he receiv