Dependable Barriss

The burning hiss of blood and tissue evaporating was all too satisfying to her ears. Much more so was the sound of the jedi exhaling his last breath. Before he had even realized it, she had plunged the lightsaber straight through his chest, the red tip protruding out of his back. His dark-green eyes reminded her of wet moss as they stared at her in disbelief.

The Inquisitor watched through the augmented visor of her black helmet as the man slowly realized that he was dead. Man was a gracious term. The human still standing before her was barely an adult. He had none of the strength of a jedi knight.

His lips tried to form words, but his lungs were filling with blood. It amused the Inquisitor to no end. He really thought there was still a way out. He still believed she would listen to his words?

He descended into bloody fits of coughing, a shaking hand reaching out towards her, probably some last desperate attempt at saving his life. At making her listen.

She touched the visor. His eyes widened in horror when he saw her face. Barriss Offee’s smile had a calming effect on people, but the twisted visage the jedi was forced to look upon now was nothing like that. Dark lips curled viciously, azure eyes drinking in his suffering. The Inquisitor enjoyed watching the life leave his eyes. She kept him there until he hung limply and his moss-green orbs stared off, unfocused.

Already? How disappointing.

The visor slid back into place with a light touch and the lightsaber deactivated with a hiss. The lifeless corpse fell face-first into the rocky surface of the moon, the orange dust soaking up the growing pool of blood. A quick search of his corpse, revealed nothing. No clues to his journeys, no hints of his affiliations. Not even a communications device on him.

Emitting a dissatisfied snort, she regretted killing him so swiftly.

Why’d you have to be so weak?

Prodding his corpse with a black boot, she noticed how scrawny he was. Couldn’t have been more than eighteen – a padawan when the galaxy turned upside down. He should have been more powerful than this, but she supposed running and hiding didn’t teach you much other than just that. Truth be told, she had thought she would have had to incapacitate him, but it had ended in his death.

I could have made him talk.

She knew she was partly to blame. The days she had spent hunting him had worked her up. It didn’t help that he had invoked her anger as well by consistently dodging her assaults in space.

In a rusty old piece of junk too.

It had nothing to do with her piloting skills, she was sure, but when she finally struck his ship and forced him to land on this barren moon, she’d had no control of her bloodlust. The only thing on her mind had been to exact revenge.

The fact that it had been so simple a victory was a testament to the power she had achieved. Power, Barriss Offee could never have obtained. Yet even such a paltry victory invigorated her and argued for the choice she had made long ago. The choice to destroy the hapless pawn she had been. She’d never again know what it was like to live in a prison of her own mind, never again let anyone shackle her to their misguided cause.

She clipped the lightsaber to her belt and called the fallen jedi’s lightsaber to her hand before the heavy wind blew it out of reach. It was a crudely wrought cylinder and immediately she felt the force radiating from the crystal inside. Without looking at it, she knew it was yellow. Golden, to be specific. She knew the wearer had been kind-hearted, but solemn of personality.

A perfect candidate for the jedi’s brainwashing program.

The echoes of what he had felt through the last few days of pursuit pulsated through the force. Feeling the suffering he had gone through, the Inquisitor could not conceal another satisfied smirk. There was no better feeling than vengeance.

Coming up to the ship her prey had flown, she confirmed her notions. A small, old transport vessel barely fit to make the jump into hyperspace. The sooty streaks of blasterfire littered the gray hull and the wind had already kicked up enough dust to give it the appearance of a wreck.

So I didn’t miss after all.

The size of the transport suggested it was meant for a single pilot with a small storage for interplanetary trips and the Inquisitor confirmed this suspicion as she stepped up the ramp extended from the rear of the transport. There was little in the way of accommodations, only a sleeping mat, some boxes which contained what was probably ration packs and a pile of thick clothing. There was nothing that could be categorized under personal objects which was very jedi-like, but unlike a jedi, it was messy. Perhaps it was proof of the haste with which he had made his escape. The fear she had sensed in him when he tried to flee certainly suggested such could be the case. Regardless, it was not worth pondering. She went on to the cockpit.

As expected the navicomputer had been wiped and there were no items of interest readily visible. The cockpit was as desolate as the rest of the ship. The wind picked up outside and dust was all one could see through the cockpit windows. It was time to get going soon, however something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. A square panel that looked like it was meant for storing a data pad or something equal in size was hanging open.

Lowering herself into the pilot’s seat, she reached into the compartment and felt her way around. Her fingers stumbled into something round in shape and she pulled out a holopad.

Why wasn’t he keeping this on him?

Turning it around, she studied it from several angles under the assumption it was rigged, however nothing suggested that was the case. The only noticeable thing was a single red diode on the side which was pulsating, indicating it held a recording. She activated it, half-expecting nothing to happen.

A holographic image crackled into existence however it wasn’t a face as expected. Two halves of a thunderbolt split down the middle with two smaller diamonds hovering by its sides. A heavily distorted voice spoke up.

“My two operatives will be waiting for you as we discussed.”

The Inquisitor pondered the meaning of the mysterious sign as she listened.

“I will transmit the coordinates for the rendezvous point now.”

A meeting?

“Fulcrum, out.”

The image disappeared in favor of a stream of digits on the holopad.

Interesting. The jedi was working with someone, but who? Rebels? And who is ‘Fulcrum’?

It wouldn’t really be a surprise if he was part of a rebellious group rather it was expected, but it did make her wonder how they got in contact with him. He must have been in hiding all this time and for them to have found him, they must either have had a jedi working for them already or have had someone who knew them intrinsically. And this ‘Fulcrum’ sounded like a leader of sorts, perhaps the head of a single cell.

No face, no voice. He must be someone important.

And what is that sign?

She pressed the button to replay the recording, freezing the image of the mysterious thunderbolt.

What does it mean?

There was something eerily familiar about it, as if she’d seen it on a page somewhere before, but she couldn’t point it out. Regardless of who Fulcrum was, this was a recording she should never have gotten her hands on. Why hadn’t it been deleted? For a jedi – a padawan even, to be so careless about such sensitive information didn’t seem right. If he had any sense of responsibility at all, he would have either hidden the recording or memorized the coordinates and deleted it. Unless he didn’t have time to do either? Forcing herself not to jump to conclusions, she decided to examine the date of the recording. The message was one standard cycle old which meant that he had received it while she was chasing him.

She felt a twitch of excitement.

They have no idea he’s dead. They’re still expecting him.

She clipped the holopad to her belt next to the lightsaber and left the jedi’s transport. Heading towards her own ship, she allowed herself a celebratory smirk. Once she had put in the coordinates into her own ship’s navicomputer, she would know where the “operatives” intended to meet up. Granted, she didn’t know when but judging by the date of the recording, the meeting had most likely not taken place yet.

The hexagonal ion engines of the Advanced TIE-fighter she had been assigned were shaking from the ferocity of the wind. The insides of the Advanced TIE weren’t as cramped as a standard TIE, the ones they practically glued together with the bare minimum of necessities. This one had shields, a hyperdrive and a storage compartment. It wasn’t particularly fast or deadly, but it was comfortable enough for the type of missions she was charged with and more importantly safe. The jedi’s lightsaber was stowed away in the back along with the pointed black helmet the Inquisitor bore. The dust had gotten into every crevice and gave it the appearance of a worn old piece. That served to annoy her, she liked her things in pristine condition.

Almost automatically, she pushed in buttons and pulled the control yoke to get the ship off the moon. When the howling of the wind finally died and dusty orange gave way to the star-dotted pitch-black vastness of space, she let the auto pilot take over on a course headed nowhere and focused on inserting the coordinates into the navicomputer. The black leather gloves creaked as the Inquisitor tightened her fists, patiently waiting for the computer to produce results.

Finally, lights flashed on the controls and then the image of a red, cloudy planet flickered into existence. She managed to crease a dark eyebrow in slight recognition before the name of the planet appeared.

Ord Cestus.

From the back of her mind, something cried for her attention, but she ignored it. She focused on the image of the planet. The coordinates didn’t lead to the planet itself, but something supposed to be in the vicinity. The only way to find out exactly where they led would be to head to the system herself, but there was a risk associated with that. There was no telling how many of the supposed “operatives” were meeting up and if she came barging in uninvited it could be suicide. It wasn’t hard to recognize the distinctive shape of the Advanced TIE-fighter and it wasn’t a given she could escape if detected. While she wasn’t shy to admit she could out-fly many Imperial pilots, she wasn’t arrogant enough to believe she was invincible.

Leaning back in the pilot’s chair, she watched as the fighter aligned itself towards the new coordinates, readying itself to enter hyperspace on her command. A sigh escaped her lips.

Am I going to let his friends get away?

The possibility of reporting it to her superiors was there. Since she had to report the dead jedi anyhow, she could add this to the report. But in the time it would take for the Imperial Inquisitorium to decide whether to do something or not, the operatives would know something was off.

So she was in a dilemma. At times such at this, it was usually a good idea to confer to the force, but the idea of doing so made her shift in the seat uncomfortably. The force had been in turmoil ever since the formation of the Empire and most of her attempts at emerging herself in the force had yielded strictly negative results. More often than not, it only awarded her a stupendous headache.

That meant she would have to go with her guts.

Barriss Offee would have argued for caution, too weak and scared to trust her instincts.

Stroking her barren cheek with a hand, she scoffed.

That’s why she’s dead.

She pressed the button to activate the hyperdrive. Instantly, flashing lights on the control panel indicated that the fighter was about to enter hyperspace. She buckled up and put her hands on the control stick. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t necessary to touch any of the instrumentation, but protocol demanded it and protocols were there for a reason. The stars flew by at an increased pace until the background went from pitch-black to the mesmerizing deep-blue of hyperspace.

She felt the thrill of the hunt already, but all she could do was wait.

The computer told her that the atmosphere was still stable within the abandoned station. The temperature was even at tolerable levels, though there was little in the way of light in the landing bay where the fighter was currently docked beside. That wasn’t a problem, however, as the Inquisitor’s helmet with the enhanced visor gave her perfectly fine sight in the darkness.

Not that she needed it to see, of course.

Going by her guts had been rewarded. There had been no ships nearby that her computer’s scanners could pick up. Granted, it was no com-scan, but she felt safe enough knowing that the force also told her there was nothing to be afraid of. Thus, she had circled the cylindrical space station a few times before docking and was currently glancing around one the landing bays.

Why would you come here?

The station itself was quite out of the way, situated in the Outer Rim Territories. It struck her that it should have been disassembled or at least moved by now, but it could be that it had been left there for future purposes. She made a mental note to check with the Inquisitorium.

As she made her way through the landing bay, she noticed that there were still quite a bit of crates lying around. Could it be supplies that had been left behind? They weren’t stacked around with the precision of troopers, more or less thrown about randomly in a hurry. The mark of the Republic was on them and when she opened the lid on one of them, her suspicions were confirmed. Medical supplies. They looked to be in perfect condition too, when factoring in how long this station must have been decommissioned.

So that’s what they’re after. They’re going to strip this place clean.

That was within the realm of reasonable explanations. Most of the equipment could be sold and would fetch a hefty price. Or perhaps they were looking to use them in upcoming sabotage actions? But as she exited the landing bay and wandered the desolate corridors of the station, she found herself pondering another question. How could they have known its location? The jedi she had executed could have seen it before, but that did not explain how they knew it still had proper medical supplies. Could someone within the Imperial forces be spying for them?

The Inquisitor halted before a closed door, half-aware that she was examining it for weak spots as she snickered at her own premonitions.

The answer is much simpler. They don’t know. They’re desperate.

With a flick of her hand, the door buckled inwards with a satisfying crunch. Beyond the opening, the architecture shifted from militaristic hexagonal corridors to a large circular command bridge. It was the center of the station, but it was situated such that large panoramic windows covering almost all of the outer walls, still allowed the commander vision of the outside. She looked around, recognizing the style. There were chairs facing outwards from the middle where the commander’s seat sat on a small rise.

I wonder if they will talk?

She let her fingers slide along the backs of the chairs as she passed them by, strolling leisurely around the commander’s rise.

Or will they stubbornly refuse to betray their friends?

Part of her hoped they would. She would of course torture them regardless of their co-operation or not, but it was always more gratifying to watch them break slowly.

She sat down in the commander’s seat, crossing one leg over the other and relaxed. Staring across empty rows of seats, she felt the emotions of hundreds of people whose presence still lingered around the abandoned station. Their concerns, their frustrations, their sorrows. It was all a hazy mixture where none really stood out, except for one. Her head tilted at how familiar this particular person felt.

I’ve been here before.

Vaguely, she remembered her time in recovery on the station, however it was all a blur. She knew how she could make it all clear, how she could recall it all in an instant, but she didn’t want to go there. Instead, she started tapping her armored chin with a finger whilst she thought about a plan. She couldn’t go about this relying solely on gut feeling after all.

Her eyes observed the command console before her. It was completely blank, just as dark as the rest of the station. There was no power whatsoever, nor anything indicating the backup was available. She’d have to rely on the force to tell her anyone was near, or she could go about it in a stealthier way. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to hide and wait. Observe her enemies until she knew exactly how many they brought with them and what equipment they had.

Her line of thought was interrupted.

Visitors.

She felt them clear as day. Two signatures arrived in close proximity to the station and they were moving closer.

And they’re on the same ship.

Two she could handle, especially since she didn’t feel anything special about them. No force sensitivity. But she still opted for stealth. It wasn’t like she was in a hurry anyhow.

The signatures came to a brief halt on the other side of the station before they started moving towards the center of the floating structure.

They’ve landed already? Guess they’re as reckless as me.

The Inquisitor rose from the chair and directed her gaze upwards. In the ceiling, several grates led to what could only be the ventilation system. With the flick of a hand, one of the grates were off. Using the force to augment her jump, she landed inside the vents which, to her comfort, were built large enough for her to be able to stand, albeit with a slight hunch.

She felt their presence approaching one of the doors to the bridge. Inaudibly, she lifted the grate back in place to complete the picture. They wouldn’t be able to spot her from down there, though she couldn’t see very much unless they moved right underneath her.

One of the doors slid open. She kept a hand on the lightsaber, just in case.

Heavy boots on the durasteel floor. They were trying to tread softly, but whoever it was, didn’t do this often. It continued for a few moments until the first footsteps were joined by two more. Lighter. Then she saw the floor being illuminated by flashlights.

“Why are you so paranoid? There’s no one here.”

It was the voice of a woman.

“Nobody knows we’re here.”

The other person spoke up with a thick accent.

“We don’t know that, for all we know, this entire station could be booby-trapped.”

A twi’lek, she immediately deduced. They moved somewhere closer to the windows, further away from her so she pressed closer to the grate, listening.

“Would you give it a rest big boy?”

It sounded like the woman took a seat in one of the lieutenant’s chairs, closer to the middle.

“If they had booby-trapped the place we’d already be dead,” the woman concluded.

Actually, it makes more sense to wait until you’ve walked all the way inside. Certainly not a saboteur are you?

 “Your carelessness is going to get someone killed one day,” the twi’lek went on to say.

“Yeah probably, which is why I usually work alone. I don’t even know why I signed up for this,” the woman replied with a sigh of boredom. “There’s no use for me here.”

“Can you put that thing down and focus? He could be here any moment now.” The twi’lek sounded serious, but it had no impact on the woman.

“That thing has a name you know.”

“I don’t care. You’ll end up shooting yourself and leaving me alone to sort this out.”

Is she toying with a blaster?

The Inquisitor instinctively frowned at such senseless actions.

A moment of silence followed while the twi’lek paced the floor and then eventually the woman spoke up again.

“So, who’s the guy we’re waiting for?”

“I don’t know him personally, but if what I’m told is true, he’s a jedi.”

So he is their accomplice, but they haven’t seen him before?

The chair squeaked as the woman spoke up.

“A jedi? Didn’t they all get killed?”

“Apparently not,” the twi’lek started. “But Fulcrum said he would be helping us. He goes by the name ‘Adder’ that’s all I know,” he finished.

“Adder?” The woman scoffed.

“Well as long as he can fight as good as they say jedi can, then he can call himself whatever he wants.”

“Anyway, we might as well make ourselves comfortable here while we wait. I have no idea how long it’ll be,” the twi’lek continued.

“You don’t know?” the woman blurted out. “Hell if I’m staying here any longer than necessary – can’t we load up without him?”

Load up the medical supplies?

“We can, but we should wait,” he suggested. “Fulcrum will want to know if the jedi didn’t arrive.”

“Great,” she said sarcastically. “Be a darling and wake me up when he gets here alright?”

There was no reply and the Inquisitor wasn’t going to wait for one. She silently started walking down the vents, headed towards the docking station where she had parked her fighter.

A devious plan was forming inside her head and she’d need these two for it.

Dreem had met jedi before, during the Clone Wars on his home planet of Ryloth. They were powerful individuals, but more importantly, they were honorable and compassionate.  When he first saw their glowing lightsabers cut down armies of droids, he and thousands of others had been filled with hope and the determination required to fight on through seemingly insurmountable odds.

That was before the Empire. That was before they were all betrayed by the troopers they called their friends. He didn’t believe the Imperial propaganda for a second. The notion that the jedi would betray the Republic defied belief. It was so ridiculously stupid that his lekku irked just knowing that there were people who believed it. What was even worse was the fact that most people did nothing. They stood idly by while the Empire enslaved entire planets and committed genocide on a galactic scale.

His sea-green fists tightened when he remembered what they had done to his family. To his people. Seeing them taken away like livestock in shackles to an uncertain, but surely horrible destiny as slaves in mines, fields or worse. Watching it, knowing there was nothing he could do made his blood boil. The only thing that had kept him from going out in some glorious suicidal act of sabotage was the thought of seeing his family alive again.

He took a deep breath and exhaled.

This mission was one step closer to that. They couldn’t take on the Empire with the numbers they had now, but the rebellion was growing all the time. He didn’t know how many there were in total, a safety precaution he figured, but judging by the number of people he’d seen pass through their rebel cell, it was a good guess that they were gaining popularity.  In spite of that, he couldn’t wait until they had the strength to liberate his people. He was good at hiding his impatience towards his superiors, but not with Hoss.

“Get up,” he grunted.

His human associate opened an eye and squinted at the light he was shining at her.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Her tone and attitude was as always, completely careless. He still hadn’t learned to cope with it so he calmed himself by putting two fingers to his temples and massaging them.

“Look,” he tried, “lets just get this over with. Whether the jedi will be here or not, let’s start loading up the meds,” he finished, hoping she wouldn’t start bickering at him again.

Hoss got up from her seat and activated the light on her beloved blaster. She started towards a door that had been partly crushed.

“Now we’re talking, you know where they are or are we spending the rest of the day searching?”

He pointed the light down at her knee-high boots and took a few seconds to consider.

“Intel says it’s either landing bay five or seven and seeing as there were none in bay seven, we’re heading for bay five.”

“Way ahead of you,” she called from somewhere down the corridor.

Sighing, he followed her down it.

At least she’s as eager as me to get this over with.

Walking a few paces behind Hoss, he let the light shine over the abandoned connecting rooms, surgical monitors and what else. His trained eyes were wary of any signs of traps or surveillance, but there was nothing. Or at least he saw nothing.

“You know, I’m kind of disappointed this jedi didn’t show up,” Hoss began. “I’ve never met one before.”

He wasn’t surprised. Smugglers didn’t usually make a lot of willing contact with the authorities.

“I mean, I’ve seen them on the holo news obviously, but other than that, I’m kinda curious how useful having one is going to be.”

He stepped around a square grate that looked like it had fallen off one of the vents.

“There’s still time for him to show up,” he said and then had to ask: “what do you mean ‘how useful’?”

“Well, the Empire’s got a massive bounty on even a single jedi’s head. We’re going to get pretty popular with a jedi on the team, don’t you think?”

He’d never thought about that. She had a good point. It was going to get a lot harder to fly under the Empire’s radar with a jedi around, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

“You might be right, but I’ve seen jedi in action before. It will go a long way to improve our odds on missions.”

He was convinced of that.

“Sure, we-  What’s that?”

She pointed the light through the landing bay door, illuminating the floor all the way to the huge two-part hangar doors.

“What’s what?”

He couldn’t get a good look at what she was pointing at so he moved closer to her. Then Hoss drew her blaster.

“Hold it right there, sweetie,” she said, pointing the weapon at someone inside the hangar whom he couldn’t see yet.

“Put down your weapon, we’re on the same side here.”

It was the voice of a woman. Friendly and calm.

“Sure we are, so what’s that you got there by your belt?”

He didn’t pull his own blaster rifle yet, but moved inside the hangar with Hoss. The human smuggler was motioning towards the unknown woman’s belt with the blaster.

The woman stepped closer and he recognized her as mirialan by the yellow color of her skin.

“It’s my lightsaber,” she explained whilst keeping her hands raised in a gesture of no ill intentions.

The mirialan wore a set of brown, form-fitting clothes that accentuated the small, but agile shape of her figure. He wasn’t in doubt this one was strong, but something about the way her azure blue eyes examined them like they saw straight through the two of them sent chills down his spine.

“Does the name ‘Adder’ ring a bell?” she asked, this time adding a smile to her lips.

Hoss shot a glance at him in askance and he nodded shortly. It was obvious she was the jedi, but he’d never felt this way before around one and he’d met a few after all.

Hoss lowered the blaster and stuck out a hand.

“Cayleen Hoss, a pleasure.”

‘Adder’ looked at it for a moment as if suspecting a trick, but then overcame the brief moment of hesitance and shook it gingerly. He felt more at ease and when she looked his way again, he greeted her politely.

“Dreem Telbud. It’s good to have a jedi on our side again.”

“It’s good to know there’s still people willing to fight the Empire,” Adder commented. Then she turned sharply and gestured towards the other side of the hangar.

“You’ll find the crates over there.”

“Ah, Fulcrum already told you why we are here?” he said as he shone the light over at the crates.

“No, but I figured this was what you were after,” she replied.

Hoss was already busy opening the crates one by one to check their contents. She sent him a thumbs up.

“There’s at least ten crates worth of meds,” she exclaimed with a thrill in her voice. “Can’t believe the Empire would just leave it here for us.”

“We owe that to our intel,” he affirmed while looking over to the jedi again. He took care not to shine the light in her face.

“We’ve got a transport ship waiting next to landing bay seven, I’ll fly it over here and dock it so we can get this loaded up. Where’s your ship?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ll help Cayleen.”

He nodded and started towards the other side of the station, though after a few steps he turned around again, remembering something.

“Hey Adder?”

She hadn’t begun walking towards Hoss yet, looking at him as if she knew he was going to ask something before he did. Jedi were like that.

“What’s your real name?”

Cover names were fine, but he liked to know who he was working with.

She looked like she had just tasted something bitter.

“My name is Adder,” she answered, sending him a glance that made him feel ashamed for even asking.

He frowned, but otherwise didn’t press any further. There was a high price on her head, so obviously she had to be careful. But still, it didn’t sit well with him.

As she turned around and started walking towards Hoss, he continued through the corridor towards landing bay seven.

A green light flashed on the instrumentation above.

“Alright, we’re leaving,” Dreem announced.

The docking locks set the shuttle free with two resounding clangs throughout the craft.

“Careful now, don’t scratch it.”

Hoss was practically breathing down his neck.

The control stick veered in his hands, but only for a moment. By his own standards, he was good at handling the unusual vessel, though it was still not good enough to Hoss’ liking.

“You know, we’d probably get back a lot faster if you flew,” he suggested, already knowing it wasn’t going to lead anywhere.

“Excuse me? Who’s been hauling crates and who’s been taking a stroll?”

He was faintly aware that the jedi was in the cockpit as well, though his attention was inevitably drawn to Hoss who leaned over the co-pilot’s chair to program the navicomputer.

“Then let me fly. I haven’t dented it before have I?” he looked forwards again, maneuvering the shuttle away from the station into position for the hyperspace jump.

“There,” she said when the navicomputer beeped and accepted the input.

“Alright, buckle up,” he warned when the extra engines sparked to life.

Hoss took up the co-pilot’s seat and the jedi sat down in the back. He let go of the stick, allowing the computer to take over. A moment later, lights started flashing alarmingly on the instrumentation, but it didn’t worry him. The ship was heavily modified and Hoss hadn’t bothered updating the software accordingly. After they had entered hyperspace, he started doing a routine check of all the equipment just to be sure he didn’t miss something important in the trivial mess of flashing warning lights -  something Hoss never did. Thinking of when he first saw the ship, he was reminded of a lambda shuttle, but with smaller wings which weren’t collapsible and with a smaller cockpit. The insides were very different though, with much more space. It had a large storage compartment, two cabins and a cramped planning room with a holoprojector that he’d never seen work.

“Get me when we’re there,” she said before slipping out of the seat.

“Where are you going?” he asked, but the hiss of a cabin door opening and closing was all the answer he got.

Exhaling, he made sure the last few instruments were in order before turning around in the chair, resting his gaze on their mirialan companion who was up by now, standing by the door, her eyes lost in something outside in hyperspace. She hadn’t said a word yet since they got on the shuttle.

“So,” he began, hesitating a bit as those strange eyes met his again. “How’d you end up here?”

She looked him over again. He knew he looked slightly coarse with his torn khaki headwear that kept his lekku in place behind his neck. The armor he’d been handed by clone troopers was charred and parts of it were missing. His rugged knee-high boots reached only one armored knee-cap and even that one was in need of replacement. The blaster rifle he always carried on his back was standing upright in the corner of the cockpit, but at least that one never had so much as a speck of dirt on it.

“I’m guessing you fought on Ryloth?” she asked him unexpectedly.

“I did. The Empire’s enslavement of my home is part of my reason for being here,” he elaborated.

Uninvited, she walked up and took the co-pilot’s seat. For the first time, he saw that she had scars in her face. Small cuts which he knew were the result of fragments.

“You fought in the clone wars I assume?” he asked, turning in the chair so he was facing the deep-blue of hyperspace.

“I fought until we were betrayed from within,” she said, folding her gloved hands in her lap. Something about the way she sat upright and firm in the seat made him think of a woman of high status.

“It’s only by the will of the force that I still breathe,” she exhaled. “I wasn’t with any troopers when it happened.”

He knew what she meant. He had seen the hell of that day - been in that hell and recalling it now made him relive how powerless he had felt.

“I saw it with my own eyes when they started shooting the jedi,” he started.

She turned her head, looking at him compassionately even though she must have suffered immeasurably more than he did on that day.

“We’d just defeated the Separatists, we were celebrating the victory and completely oblivious,” he continued, moving his feet restlessly. “The clones just turned their blasters as if all reacting to some hidden signal, gunning every jedi down in sight. Those of us who tried to stand against them were killed too.”

His hands balled into fists on his knees as he remembered the shouting and confusion of hundreds of men and women who didn’t know why they were being killed. So many people he knew, betrayed by those they would have willingly died for.

“It’s even worse to think that moments before, the clones had been dying for the same cause as we. They were destroying everything they had worked for too, proving that in the end, they were just mindless slaves.”

He circulated a breath, watching his fingers uncurl.

“If it hadn’t been for the swift decisions of our leaders that day, we would all have perished.”

“They didn’t die for nothing,” she said. “Nobody could have known what the Empire had planned,” she continued, but he noticed she wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking at her own hands, really looking at them, as if studying the black leather for faults.

“I’m sorry, I realize you lost many too,” he said quickly. “You’re the first jedi I’ve met since that day.”

The mirialan woman nodded slowly, speaking with as calm a demeanor as before.

“I lost everyone. Everything.”

He thought about that for a moment. He too had lost most of whom he cared about, but he at least had the hope that his family was still alive out there.

No, I know they’re still out there.

She had nothing. He couldn’t prize himself as being an expert on the jedi, but he did know they were all taken to the temple at a very young age. They didn’t make contact with their families so the closing thing they had to that must have been the order and that order had been destroyed. Every relative branded a traitor and a bounty put on their heads. He had seen what the Empire had done to the remains of the jedi temple too, no doubt in an effort to stamp out the last remaining signs of the jedi and what they stood for. Only it hadn’t worked. For all the struggle they had gone through to make the galaxy resent the jedi, as long as people like him were alive, the jedi would serve as symbols of justice, compassion and morals.

When he looked at the jedi sitting beside him, he saw a person whose whole life had been dedicated to those virtues and she didn’t seem to realize how valuable she was.

“I understand you’ve lost the jedi order,” he began. “But I don’t think you’ve lost everything.”

She didn’t take her gaze off her hands, but he was determined to lift her spirits.

“For what good it does, you still inspire hope. You might not be as many as you were before, but the galaxy you left behind knows what you stand for and what you wanted to do.”

He looked out the cockpit glass, continuing as she remained silent.

“There are countless people out there, mourning your losses and who will rise up to fight those who wronged us all. The people are still with you.”

“You are still the image of good in the galaxy,” he finished and felt satisfied with what he’d said. It was true after all and it felt like a stone had been lifted from his heart. Like he’d needed to tell someone for a long time.

“Thank you.”

He almost had to ask her to repeat herself, so low was her voice.

“Don’t mention it, just never lose hope.”

He gave her a rare smile which she returned.

“Have you met Fulcrum?” she asked suddenly.

He looked upwards as he realigned his thoughts, focusing on the intelligence officer he knew as ‘Fulcrum’.

“No, we communicate strictly through holo calls,” he replied.

“Oh? So you don’t know who he is?” she questioned.

“Well, I know he’s working intelligence for several rebel cells, but I don’t know the person,” he replied.

“I see. So he just hands you intelligence and you act on it?”

He nodded.

“Hasn’t been wrong so far.”

A thought struck him.

“How’d you connect with him anyhow? Are you associated with another cell?” he asked curiously.

There was a long pause before she said anything.

“No, I was alone until Fulcrum contacted me,” she said whilst examining the controls. “Drifting around on an old transport barely fit to fly. It was quite fortunate, really.”

“Did you know of the rebellion beforehand?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I was in hiding, waiting.”

He tilted his head, searching one side of her face and eventually asked as she didn’t explain further.

“Waiting for what?”

“I’m not certain. Signs of resistance. Hope, I guess you could say.”

He was somewhat sure he understood.

“You were waiting to see how to strike back? Where to start?”

“Yes,” she agreed and then changed the subject. “Where exactly are we headed?”

He blinked and then lifted his shoulders in a light shrug.

“We’re headed back to the cell,” he said, adding: “but I don’t know where.”

“You don’t know where it is?” she looked at him again in a way that made him duck slightly.

“It’s a precaution,” he explained. “Hoss knows where we’re going, I know what we’re doing. In case one of us gets caught.”

A mirialan eyebrow rose.

“You’re willing to leave Hoss behind?”

If it’s her or the rebellion…

He looked at her, his voice hushed for some reason.

“It’s protocol. I hope I’ll have the guts to do what I have to do if it comes to that, but I’m not intending it to ever go that far.”

“I understand,” she said. “The integrity of the rebellion comes before all.”

He was glad they were on the same page about that, but before he could pose another question, he watched her rise from the seat.

“I’ll follow Hoss’ example and retire for now. Let me know if you need someone to relieve you of piloting.”

“Will do,” he said and then quickly added: “and thank you.”

With a polite bow, she left him alone in the cockpit. He turned to watch the mesmerizing blue of hyperspace. They had a lot more work coming up and it wouldn’t do for him to have his mind elsewhere.

But before he did any more thinking, he needed a cup of steaming hot coffee.

Barriss shuddered in the hospital bed. Her eyes flashed open and after getting accustomed to the bright light, she recognized where she was.

Ord Cestus, she realized.

She was wearing a white hospital gown and a myriad of electrodes were connected to her arms. She plucked them off carefully one by one, knowing exactly what each and every one of them was for. Beside her, she noticed something orange stirring.

"Ahsoka?" Barriss asked, her voice raspy.

The togrutan teenager was sleeping on a chair beside the bed, her mouth wide open and a tendril of drool hanging from her lip.

Barriss suppressed a laughter, but couldn't stop a wide smile from creasing her lips. She repeated herself a little louder.

"Ahsoka!"

The togruta jolted awake, scrambling out of the chair and almost colliding with the hospital bed.

"Wh-what! Are the worms back!?"

Barriss sat up and collected her hands at her fore, stroking a yellow index finger while waiting patiently for Ahsoka to regain her bearings.

"Barriss! You're awake!" Ahsoka eventually stated, not sure where to put her hands, she did the same as Barriss.

"How are you feeling, Barriss?" Ahsoka asked worriedly.

Barriss looked up at the blue eyes of her friend, her smile causing the togruta to ease up immediately.

"Well, after the creepy experience of having been controlled by a brainworm for hours, steered about like some droid made of flesh.." She began, observing Ahsoka glance away, her force signature beaming guilt. ".. I feel altogether pretty good. You saved my life, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka had saved her life twice in two days now, which was astonishing. Barriss had liked the togruta the moment she met her. Energetic, eager and a lot more skilled than her age portrayed. She was about three years Barriss' junior, but it only showed when it came to patience and knowledge of the jedi ways. In those areas, Ahsoka took after her master perhaps a bit too much. The reckless, headstrong Chosen one, Anakin Skywalker.

Ahsoka squeezed Barriss shoulder lightly.

"Hey?"  Ahsoka said worriedly.

Barriss blinked and beamed a reassuring smile.

"Sorry, I zoned out for a bit."

Ahsoka chuckled and stepped over to the small medical desk beside the bed, turning her back to Barriss.

"Let me help you with your clothes."

"Oh you really don't have to, Ahsoka."

"Nope, but I'm still doing it." Ahsoka's lips twitched into a sly grin as she laid out Barriss simple brown clothes on the bed.

Barriss threw the gown over her head and started pulling the clothes on. Ahsoka sat on the bed, her fingers fiddling in her lap. There had been a silence for more than a thirty seconds and Barriss was starting to think Ahsoka was unwell.

"Sure it's a good idea to be up and walking already? I mean.. That worm had you under control for hours.."

Nope, all good, she thought, but laughed on the outside.

Ahsoka blinked.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Master Fisto assured me it was all fine, Ahsoka." She heaved the chestpiece over her head and started wriggling her way through it.

"Sure you don't want to stab me?" Ahsoka said and Barriss knew her friend was grinning.

"Ahsoka!" Barriss tried to keep a serious expression, but it was hard. Once she got the chestpiece on, she sent Ahsoka a stare.

"Sorry, sorry.. I'm just glad you're alright," she explained before tossing her the belt. It had a heart-shaped mark on the buckle.

"Only thanks to you," Barriss replied, locking the belt at her waist and then sitting down on the bed with a polite distance between them.

"Barriss, about what you said.." Ahsoka started, her gaze downcast.

Barriss knew what she referred to. The words echoed in her mind.

Kill me.. Please.

"You did the right thing," she comforted her friend, wishing she would look up at her.

"But if I had failed- .. If the worms had spread..."

"Ahsoka, past is past. It does us no good to dwell on it."

Ahsoka finally looked up.

Barriss screamed.

“What’s wrong Barriss?”

Sickly yellow eyes stared at her.

“Ahsoka!?”

She felt every hair on her body stand.

The thing that had been her best friend opened its mouth, but all Barriss heard was the screeching of dying Genosians.

“Ahs-  I’m sorry! I’m sorry Ahsoka!” she tried to scream, but the screeching drowned out all other sounds.

Dark veins spread across the togruta’s skin as it approached her, its movements frighteningly bizarre.

Hyperventilating, Barriss stumbled backwards against the wall, somehow knowing that she was going to die.

She wanted to run, but her limbs wouldn’t move and then it was too late.

Cold hands took hold of her and she was forced to look into the abyss that was waiting for her.

With its lips curled in an unnaturally wide grin, Barriss saw all of its pointy teeth before they tore her face apart.

The Inquisitor broke from the dream like breaking through the icy surface of a lake. She heaved for air and then felt two warm hands grab her. They shook her until she finally noticed the two people standing over her.

The cabin. I’m in the cabin on the ship.

“Talk to me! What’s going on?”

The twi’lek looked worried, his hard, amber eyes staring at her.

“I’m – I’m fine. I’m fine!” she croaked, getting up from the make-shift bed that was a thin mattress. Her clothes felt wet and sticky.

“Are you sure?” the twi’lek inquired, observing her like he was afraid she was going to fall over. She frowned, hating how compassionate he thought he was.

You’re not helping anyone you gullible fool.

“Yes I’m sure,” she confirmed and looked from him to Hoss. The human female actually managed to look concerned for once.

“You were screaming things,” the human informed her.

Of all the times to get a nightmare, it had to be now.

“What things?” she demanded to know before gulping a mouthful from a glass of water the twi’lek handed her.

Her two companions exchanged glances and Hoss eventually was the one to speak up.

“Go to the cockpit Dreem, we should be exiting hyperspace soon and we’ll need someone at the controls.”

Nobody moved while a wordless conversation took place between the two. Then eventually the twi’lek exhaled, eyed the Inquisitor one more time and left the two women to talk. Hoss walked over to the small desk that the cabin was outfitted with. She sat down backwards on the chair and crossed her arms, propping them on the backrest.

We’re going to have a deep and heartfelt talk?

The Inquisitor put down the glass and collected her hands at her fore, glancing at the other woman expectantly.

“You’ve seen a lot of war, haven’t you?” Hoss asked.

The Inquisitor sighed, putting on a mournful mask.

I’ll enjoy killing you.

“Y-yes… Yes, I have,” she replied.

Hoss shifted uncomfortably in the chair, raising a hand to run back a few rogue strands of blonde hair from her face.

“You were shouting a lot. Couldn’t make out exactly what, but it sounded like- .. well.. “

She waved around her hand, trying to find the right word.

“ – Like you were possessed or something. You’re not having some, you know.. Major war trauma or something?”

Hoss looked to be about the same age as the Inquisitor. She looked nimble, not one used to hard work or hand-to-hand combat. That and judging by the way she dressed with brown boots, some sturdy looking gray trousers and a ridiculous black vest over a dim-gray shirt, it was obvious she was self-centered. The squarish blaster she prized and had even named was the finishing touch to the image of vanity.

There were so many ways to make her suffer and imagining them all was the only thing keeping the Inquisitor from actually doing it right now.

“.. Hey, still with me?” Hoss said.

Suppressing a smile, the Inquisitor bowed her head and continued the charade.

“Memories of the clone wars sometimes resurface in my sleep,” she said truthfully.

“Yeah I get that, but that’s not what I’m worried about,” Hoss went on. “What worries me, is if that happens when you’re awake. When you’re flying maybe, or when you’re fighting. Are you gonna melt down and get me killed?”

The Inquisitor looked up at the smuggler and smiled reassuringly. Hoss shifted again.

“No,” she lied. “I promise, that will not happen.”

As the Inquisitor sat down on her knees, Hoss looked unconvinced, but said nothing.

Fear.

It was trickling off the blonde smuggler and the mirialan felt her heartrate increase because of it. It fueled the part of her that wanted nothing more than to turn that fear into suffering.

But it wouldn’t do to make a mess of things right now. Not when she was this close to unveiling several rebel cells.

“Please, can I get a moment to myself?” she asked, maintaining the smile.

“Eh- .. Sure, I guess. You’ll be alright?” Hoss got up.

“I will. Thank you for worrying about me.”

The door hissed shut behind Hoss and the Inquisitor’s smile died. Her eyes went to the desk and the chair.

Of course she didn’t slide the chair back.

While it bothered her, she had more acute matters to consider. She’d had another nightmare and another fit of shouting, no doubt stressful words from another time.

From another person.

And thinking of that, she thought of Ahsoka.

She bit down on her lip.

No matter how hard she tried to quell it, some part of her would never cease to torment her with memories of that slippery togruta. Taunting her by reminding her how Barriss Offee nearly succeeded, but ultimately failed. She felt no guilt at all about what she had done with the wide-eyed innocent she had once called her friend. For all she knew, Ahsoka had been gunned down along with the rest of the jedi and lived on only in her mind with the sole purpose of causing the Inquisitor misery. But she knew the nightmares were signs. The force was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t recognize what it was.

Perhaps it’s time to try meditating again.

Her shoulders slumped and she let her hands rest with the palms upwards on either knee. She closed her eyes and effortlessly immersed herself in the force. The first thing she felt was the unruly waves of grief, agony and anger that had permeated the entire galaxy lately, but after a few deep calming breaths, she was able to focus again.

Force.. It’s been so long.

It felt like years since the last time she had been able to properly meditate and now, she felt the frustrations of the past few days flow from her into the force. She felt the twi’lek and his presence like a glowing aura in the ship. Strong-willed and hopeful, he was worried, she could tell, but she did not search his aura further. The very different aura of the human caught her attention. It was hard to tell what emotions leaked off of her, it was faint. Almost like her aura was slowly retracting itself and moving away from the Inquisitor.

She was moving.

She’s outside the ship?

The Inquisitor opened her eyes just as the door hissed open.

“Ah, you look better already.”

It was the twi’lek male again and he appeared in a rush.

“Thank you. Where are we currently?” she asked.

“We’ve docked with the others,” he said as he started backing out of the cabin again. “Hoss is getting some of the others to haul the crates, but I’ve got to report to command. You take the time you need and then report to command as well.”

And then he was gone again.

That made sense at least. She brushed her thighs down and rose feeling refreshed.

I’ll have to meditate some more when this farce is over with.

Clipping the lightsaber to her belt, she took the com device from her belt and pressed a button on the side. It wasn’t a sophisticated tracking device, but it would do for what she had planned.

Soon, she assured herself and imagined herself carving a bloody trail throughout the spaceship.

Soon, you’ll all know who I really am.

Everything was going according to plan, but he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Something bad was going to happen.

He thought about what Hoss had told him about Adder’s nightmare.

“She was shouting things, Dreem. Weird things which I couldn’t exactly make out but she’s seen things. Bad things.”

“Are all jedi like that?”

Hoss had then gone on to stand behind him in the cockpit, flipping her blaster restlessly while he docked with the CR90 Corvette. It was odd to see her troubled, but even more so for her not to say a word. It was the first time he’d made a successful docking without receiving at least some chiding comments. Well, actually it was the first time she’d been in the cockpit and not berated his flying. That the jedi was having nightmares was something he hadn’t thought about, but it made sense. She’d probably seen much more war and suffering than he ever would and he dared not imagine what memory had caused such a reaction.

“Sergeant Telbud, are you listening?”

He looked up startled, almost dropping the glass in his hands and spilling its contents over the holo table before him.

“Sorry Sir, I’m listening.”

Commander Tamas’ tone of voice brook no argument. He was an aged man with graying dark hair dressed in knee-high boots, a pair of khaki trousers and a blouse. Underneath it, he had a cobalt blue shirt whose collar was pierced with his rank insignia on either side. With his hands locked behind his straightened back, he looked the leader he was. His weathered face was a testament to the hard work he had done throughout his life and his granite gray eyes teemed with experience. It was those eyes which were now observing Dreem.

It felt like a long moment before the Commander moved on with the subject at hand.

“The supplies are being checked by our medicinal staff as we speak. Not that I don’t trust you Sergeant, but in this case, I’d rather be absolutely certain we’re not sending off something that will be ineffective.”

He didn’t really take offense to that, but he was glad the Commander bothered to explain. Neither he or Hoss were experts on military grade med supplies after all.

The Commander glanced across the holo table at Dreem again.

“You said in your report that you didn’t encounter any problems whatsoever and you have the jedi with you?”

Dreem cleared his throat.

“Yes, Commander. I told her to report to command once she was ready.”

“Great, I can’t wait to meet her,” a young voice exclaimed beside Dreem. It was Tapham a human fighter pilot and an ace at that even. The pilot was clearly excited and Dreem wondered whether the boy had ever met a jedi before.

Commander Tamas nodded.

“Excellent. While we wait, I’d like to hear your report, Captain Tikira.”

The orange skinned twi’lek rose from her seat on the other side of the table to the left of Dreem. She pressed a few buttons on the control console and then a segment of empty space was illustrated above the holo table.

“The raid on the Imperial convoy was successful,” she announced before drawing a line with her fingers through space.

“This was the interception point. The intel was good, we landed so close they barely had time to activate their shields.”

Where her fingers ended, eight miniature fighters materialized and started assaulting two bulky-looking transports. The entire skirmish was soundless and Dreem watched the starfighters’ lasers tear the Imperial ships apart.

“We had no losses and the transports were completely annihilated,” she finished proudly.

“There was no escort?” Dreem asked with genuine curiosity.

Captain Tikira shook her head.

“Not a single TIE.”

Huh, isn’t that a bit odd?

Tapham had the exact same thoughts.

“Isn’t that strange? They usually protect their transports pretty well,” the human said, looking to the Captain for answers.

The twi’lek woman lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug.

“Their forces must be stretched thin,” she reasoned. “Does it matter?”

“No matter the reason, we’ve dealt the Empire a blow today,” the Commander concluded as he turned off the holo battlefield. “You and your squadron did well, Captain Tikira and have earned some time to rest.”

“Unfortunately,” he said. “I will have to ask you and Tapham to prepare your fighters immediately.”

Dreem raised an eyebrow.

Tapham rose from his seat.

“Right away, Sir!” Tapham said eagerly. “Where are we going?”

“Captain Tikira and her squadron is to escort our transport carrying the med supplies,” he revealed. “Take-off in twenty minutes.”

“Yes, Commander,” the Captain replied and gave him a rigid salute.

While she grabbed her helmet, and made to leave the conference room, Dreem wished whoever was going to ride the transport good luck. Working with Tikira was rarely a pleasurable experience. Though he had to admit she was a great pilot, she lacked compassion. Her auburn red eyes always made him feel uneasy and whenever he was unfortunate enough to be under their gaze, he was sure she was considering how best to trade his life for another victory. Even though her squadron had been the most successful so far, it had also taken the most losses.

When she was gone, the Commander spoke again.

“Tapham, you’re going to take some of the rookie pilots and teach them whatever you can. Focus on survival. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” he exclaimed, already with his helmet under his arm and on his way to be about his task.

Most people obeyed Commander Tamas without question not because of his authority, but because they trusted him. Dreem too, would do just about anything for him, but it still worried him to see Tapham be so eager. A boy his age shouldn’t have to go to war.

But then again, Dreem had gone to war at fifteen, three years younger than Tapham.

He sipped the glass of water. It didn’t do him any good to concern himself with the morality of war now, they had a rebellion to keep alive and good pilots like Tapham were invaluable.

“Ah,” the Commander blurted out as the door hissed behind Dreem yet again. He turned around to see Adder standing as tall as she was with her hands locked serenely behind her back. She was smiling and averted her gaze upwards to meet the gaze of the Commander.

“It’s good to see you survived. Welcome to the rebellion, Adder.” The Commander shook her hand and Dreem smiled, joyful to see Adder looking better.

“I’m glad to be here, Commander,” she informed him and took the seat the Commander showed her.

“Feeling better?” Dreem had to ask.

“Much better,” she replied, adding a “thank you.”

The Commander cleared his throat and sat down on the other side of the holo table.

“My name is Commander Tamas,” he started and then gestured towards Dreem. “You’ve met Sergeant Telbud and you shall meet others like him soon, but I fear we must jump straight to the duties at hand.”

“Something the matter, Commander?” the jedi inquired.

She sat with one leg crossed over the other, her hands folded in her lap.  Dreem looked from her to the Commander, finding himself curious as well.

“Nothing is wrong so to speak, however, Fulcrum has asked that you join up with him as soon as possible. As such, I ask that you go with the transport leaving shortly.”

“Is that so? Is there a reason for such haste?” she asked further.

The Commander threw up his hands.

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s jedi business of some sort,” he guessed.

Jedi business?

Dreem led the glass to his lips, but never took a sip. His eyes were on the jedi.

“Jedi business? Fulcrum is a jedi too, I take it?” she said, suddenly appearing more interested.

“Yes, I thought that’s how he got a hold of you in the first place?” the Commander countered, creasing one gray brow.

Dreem slowly let down the glass again, smiling inside as he took that in.

Fulcrum is a jedi too.

Two jedi working directly with them? It seemed like a rescue mission was becoming more and more viable.

“Ah yes, of course,” she conceded, raising a hand to her head as she flashed an apologetic smile. “Do forgive me, the last couple of days have been filled with new information.”

“Very good,” the Commander said, satisfied with that explanation. “Dreem?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“You and Adder take the medicinal transport with Hoss. Fulcrum will make contact with you once you’ve arrived.”

Ah, well at least the jedi is with me.

“Understood, Commander.”

“I’ll have the jump coordinates uploaded to Hoss.”

The Commander got up from his seat.

“Any questions?”

Dreem shook his head.

“Brilliant. I look forward to hearing from you again, but for now, Godspeed.”

He took that as a hint and got up to leave. Adder followed him out of the conference room and he matched his pace with hers as they walked down the corridor.

“We’re lucky to have two jedi fighting on our side,” he said, smiling confidently.

She was walking with her hands joined behind her back, eyes forwards. It took a moment before she registered he said anything and she didn’t sound as high spirited as he was.

“I can’t wait to see who it is.”

The sinking feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away, but he attributed it to fatigue. He hadn’t had anything to eat since they got out of hyperspace too, so really, it could be anything. Besides that, he was excited about getting to see Fulcrum. He’d been with this cell for years and he’d never known Fulcrum was a jedi. It didn’t bother him that the Commander had kept that from him, there were entirely good reasons after all, but he hoped they weren’t just going to deliver Adder. They needed that jedi.

He needed her to make his mission possible.

Commander Tamas nearly collided with the technical officer as he entered the bridge.

“Ah – Commander! I was just about to get you!” he said, offering no apologies.

Putting on a strained smile, Tamas held off on the scolding.

This better be important.

“Go on, Lieutenant. What is it?”

“Well, we might have a problem Sir,” he explained as he led the Commander to one of the consoles.

“We’ve detected an encrypted signal originating from somewhere inside the ship,” the Lieutenant went on to say. “We don’t know what it is or who is sending it, but it hasn’t been authorized.”

He frowned and looked at the display. The computer was showing the different frequencies of the signal, which to the untrained eye looked like gibberish, but he saw a pattern.

“It’s repeating itself. Like a beacon,” the Commander realized.

“Yes Sir. We’re trying to locate the source as we speak, but it’s difficult with the equipment we have.”

His mind raced. It didn’t make sense, who would send a signal without his strict authorization?

“Shut down our communications systems,” he ordered.

“It won’t work Sir, none of our systems are transmitting. It’s foreign.”

His back grew tense.

“Could someone have placed a tracer on our hull?” he asked quickly.

“No Sir, the signal doesn’t match a tracer, but the computer isn’t done running the match yet. We’ll know what it is soon.”

He did a mental search of the ship, looking for any possible answer to this mystery.

It can’t be a tracer and it’s not coming from our own systems. Then what the hell is it?

I’ll be damned if we’re taken down by cheap tricks.

The Commander made his way to the center of the bridge and pulled the Captain’s mic from its stand.

He activated all channels.

“Attention all hands, our position may have been compromised.”

The other crew occupying the various consoles on the bridge looked up.

“We are currently conducting a search for an unknown signal emanating from the ship. All pilots standby.”

As he put down the mic, the bridge erupted in activity. Officers started pouring in to occupy their battle positions along with technical staff. Through the front glass of the bridge, he saw the peculiar shape of Hoss’ ship fire up its engines. At least they were on their way on time, but there was no time to linger.

“Lieutenant! Keep me updated on that signal!” he called.

“Yes Sir, but something odd is happening.”

He moved to stand by the officer’s side immediately and the smell of sweat oozed of him.

“What’s happening? Go on.”

“Well Sir the - .. The signal is moving.”

The beacon is on a person.

The Commander shouted across the bridge.

“Quick! Alert the crew that the signal generator is on a person. Conduct a search immediately!”

“Sir!” the officer shouted to get his attention.

He spun around again.

“You’ve found it?”

“No Sir, but the computer says it’s a hand-held com device. It’s - ..”

He was growing impatient with this man, but he hadn’t reached his limit yet.

“Go on,” he urged. “What is it?”

“It’s of an Imperial design Sir,” the officer reluctantly confirmed.

“What? Are you absolutely certain?”

“The computer is one hundred percent certain.”

He gnashed his teeth, ready to grab a blaster and help his men search the ship though he knew he couldn’t do that.

“It - .. It’s gone Sir. The signal is gone,” the officer informed him.

“What do you mean it’s gone?” he yelled.

This doesn’t make any sense.

“It disappeared, just now Sir! None of our scanners can pick it up.”

From another console, a flight officer raised his voice.

“Commander! Reporting that the med transport has made its way into hyperspace!”

Realization dawned upon him like a splash of ice cold water.

Another officer shouted.

“Sir! An – An Imperial stardestroyer has entered our vicinity!”

A collective gasp rose from the ensemble of command.

They got us.

“Scramble all fighters and activate the shields!” he demanded.

The entire ship shook as green turbolasers exploded against the blue shields of the corvette.

Who the hell gave us up?

“Get a signal out to Fulcrum, now!” he ordered.

“They’re jamming our transmissions, Sir!”

“Enemy has launched TIE-fighters Sir!”

They had to get out of there.

“Program the navicomputer for emergency hyperspace jump immediately! Order all fighters to buy us time!”

It would take them a moment to align themselves, but it was the only chance they had. Their fate was in the hands of their pilots now.

“Sir, we’ve launched all fighters, but the enemy fighters outnumber ours at least five to one!”

“They just need to keep them off our tail until we can make the hyperspace jump,” he explained swiftly.

“Yes Sir!”

The Commander took a tight hold of the command seat he was standing behind, pearls of sweat stinging his eyes.

Maybe I can buy us some time as well.

“Hail the stardestroyer.”

“We can’t Sir, we’re being jam- Wait, they’re hailing us!”

The holo transmitter was large enough to make the image appear natural in size. It was the hologram of an imperial officer dressed all in gray with three red squares over three blue on his chest.

“This is the Commander of the transport ship Tecta. Might I ask why you are assaulting us?”

“You may skip the charade, dissident. Surrender immediately and we shall consider sparing your lives.”

He couldn’t stand the arrogance in the man’s voice, but he was playing for time and he was running out of cards to play fast.

“Sir! We need about two more minutes for the hyperspace jump!” an officer called out.

Outside, green flashes lighted up the shields.

“We’re not dissidents,” he lied to the image. “Cease firing at us and send a boarding party. You will see that I speak the truth.”

That only made the Imperial officer smirk.

Disgusting.

“Deactivate your shields and withdraw all of your fighters and then we may speak of a ceasefire.”

The Commander snorted.

“What, so you can shoot us down like dogs?”

“You mean like you did our transports?”

“What transports?” he tried, silently cursing Captain Tikira for being so vicious.

“We have nothing left to discuss.”

The image crackled and then vanished.

“Sir, they’re jamming all of our transmissions.”

He cursed himself.

“How are our fighters doing?” he asked.

“We’ve lost four Sir, we have -”

A bright explosion just outside rocked the bridge.

“- We have three left, Sir.”

At this rate we’ll be dead within five minutes.

“How long till hyperspace jump?” he pressed, holding on as another close hit sent tremors through the ship.

“Sir, we – we’ve lost the hyperdrive!”

Damn it all.

There was no way to escape now, but that didn’t mean the traitor was going to get away.

“Send the coordinates to all of the fighters, inform them that we have a traitor in our midst and that whoever it is, is onboard the med transport!”

“Yes Sir! Shall I tell the crew to evacuate?”

It would probably be better to die than endure Imperial captivity, but his men should be allowed to make that choice for themselves. With a heavy sigh he gave the officer a nod.

“Evacuate! All hands, evacuate!”

The sound of klaxons filled the ship. Then the blasts of the escape pods launching reverberated throughout the hull.

He watched the bulbous shapes, each carrying up to ten men, glide a few hundred meters from the ship before they were vaporized. His officers called out in horror, putting down their headsets as they came to realize that there was no way out now.

They were all going to die.

The ship listed as the stabilizers gave out. Red warning lights flooded the bridge and the emergency shut-down procedure began, closing the bridge off from the rest of the vessel. Officers and crew crowded the massive door, hammering it in some vain attempt to escape this madness.

He stood at his seat, wondering how he’d not seen this coming. He’d always known he was going to meet his end in combat, but not quite like this. Betrayed from within, stabbed in the back by one of his own. Of the people on the transport the only ones he didn’t know properly was the jedi, but that made no sense.

Why would a jedi betray us?

Outside, interceptors fought desperately to get out of the swarm of Imperial TIE-fighters to make the hyperspace jump, but there were just too many of them.

It can’t be her.

Part of the bridge erupted in flames. He was faintly aware that an officer was shaking him, screaming at him to give orders, but he had no orders left to give.

Who?

Why?

The glass imploded and then everything went black.