MC: AOTE: Brothers in Arms

[starmark2k]

The plans were finalised, Nic was going to break into the Academy and leave the imperial training world tomorrow. From then he hadn’t done much planning, he just knew he had to find Jana and then return and liberate Beryl, if she didn’t manage to escape herself. This is why he would still go to the Synergy Cantina in the hope he’ll meet up with Beryl so they can escape together.

 

He took the same route to the cantina as he always did, back alleys and the wrong kind of streets were the ones he walked. The Stormtroopers still patrolled the whole city but they tended to stay off certain streets because of their bad reputations, which suited Nic fine.

 

He began to walk down one alley with the sun shining right above it, he used his walking stick to help him walk as his leg was still really weak from when Beryl had shot him in a training exercise. Nic was only halfway down the alley when a familiar alien stepped out from behind a nook in one of the flanking buildings, the Rodian from the day before. Nic looked other his shoulder to see the Weequay and Human companions of the slimy Bounty hunter carrying a couple of vibro blades.

 

The Rodian walked up in front of him with a grin (at least Nic thought it was a version of one) while holding his blaster out then stoped when he was only two steps away from his target. “<So do you want to do this the easy way or hard way>”

 

“I only ever know how to do things the hard way.” Nic replied grinning back.

 

Without any more hesitation Nic swung his Walking stick around and into the gun hand of the rodian, the gun flew out and into the nearby wall leaving the Green alien defenceless. The walking stick was then jabbed into the bounty hunters gut causing it to curl it’s body and arms into that area. Nic quickly raised the stick upward and then with all his strength struck down on to the back of the Rodian’s skull. Knocking him out Cold.

 

The Weequay then charged at Nic but only got the walking stick swung across the side of his face as Nic swung his whole body around to face the two thugs. The Alien went flying off to the side and crashed into a wall then falling down.

 

Nic looked at the other human who was obviously unsure what to do, this gave Nic a chance to reach down into his boot and grab… Nothing. “I forgot they confiscated it.” He exclaimed out loud as he looked at the human who had now decided he would charge at Nic. Although he was planning on doing it with his knife he instead threw the walking stick at the thug’s legs and tripped him as it impacted. Having to hop other o the fallen thug he picked up his walking stick then finished the job by Smashing his head between the walking stick and the floor.

 

“I’ll take that.” Nic said to himself taking the Vibroblade from the thug and then walking oven to the unconscious Rodian and bending down to pick up the Blaster pistol. “This too.”

[Writer]

"You're not staying long, are you, Aryn?" Shaam asked quietly. Jana had gone off to see what sorts of mail she'd missed in the last two months, leaving the two old friends alone. Reibe shook her head.

 

"No, I don't expect we will," she answered. "Just long enough to finish the modifications to the ship... and have a bit of a breather from Imperials chasing us everywhere. Conduit worms ingested some Imperial trackers, I assume. But we had the Jedi and Tinker working on that issue while in hyperspace."

 

"Why do you do that?" Shaam asked quietly. A flicker of an unreadable emotion passed through Reibe's eyes as Shaam continued his question, "Why do you downplay the value of everyone on the crew save for your own descendant?"

 

"You may have noticed I don't trust easily, Shaam," Reibe pointed out. "In my younger years, I was stabbed in the back a few too many times to allow that. It may seem harsh, but the names prevent me from trusting them more than I feel I can."

 

"What if the one you trust ends up being the one who stabs you in the back?" Shaam pressed.

 

"You think I trust Jana?" Reibe laughed. "She's impulsive and stubborn. Not the hardest I've ever trained, though she does happen to be one of the more talented. And that's why I don't trust her for a moment. I know it's trust that makes you vulnerable."

 

"So does assumed independence," Shaam countered. "Reibe, lack of trust is no reason to be rude."

 

Reibe grimaced. "Habit. Perhaps I can try to do better."

 

The old man smiled. "That's all I ask."

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Dear Mom,

I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me, so I thought I should let you know that I’m alive and well and drop you a line.

 

Between the last time I saw you and now, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about our past and the relationship we have with each other. I realise that we’ve had our differences, especially in regards to my reckless behaviour, so I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that Berasmus has taken me under his wing and obtained me a very secure position as a flight instructor at the Imperial Military Academy on Carida. I know Rayne will be a bit upset when you tell him the good news, but I’m sure he will understand the benefit of a having a government job and will do all he can to support me and my decision.

 

It’s not easy for me to say this, but I’m sorry that I didn’t speak to you at Father’s funeral. We were so close, and it seems like he died only yesterday, and I feel like it is my fault, but I was so very upset at his passing that I really didn’t know what to say to you. Please forgive me.

 

This place is a little better than what I imagined it would be. Even though Nuss has a lot of influence with the Commander here, it still took me a long while to get processed and enrolled, and, in the end, I didn’t receive any special treatment. Nuss says that would be good for me to be just another face in the crowd. I think he might be right.

 

The very rigid routines have taken quite some time for me to get used to. My day starts early (0500!) with brief 10k run followed by breakfast at the dining hall across the from the Officer’s Dorm. At 0630, all of us form up at the parade grounds in front of the main education building for inspection. I’ve received a few demerits from my superiors, but so far only about half the amount as at the TCTA. Of course, that may be because this place is about twice the size of my old alma mater, rather than any exceptional qualities on my part.

 

The classes I teach start at 0700. At the moment, I’m restricted to teaching only theory and using the flight simulator for my class ‘Basic Pre-flight Inspections and Maintenance’. The class is over at 1200, and I sometimes take a short walk from the dorm, to watch the TIEs come in from their training exercises before I eat lunch. I really miss flying, but my new friend Captain Aiken said that he might allow me access to the flight hanger during non-training times, and maybe, if I continue to perform well, even allow me to do a tandem flight with him.

 

Even though I am an instructor here, I’m still a cadet in training myself. Routinely, my afternoons are spent in the Officer Candidate Complex. It’s a fair walk from the main complex, but uphill hikes are just a part of the vigorous physical fitness routine here since the gravity is higher than most other training facilities. I found my own classes quite difficult and stressful at first, but apparently that’s normal for people enrolled in the re-education programmes. Fortunately, they have a top-notch counselling staff here and they have helped me and some of my classmates adjust quickly. I’m feeling so much better that I’ll hopefully I’ll be off the medication they prescribed me before graduation, which is coming up in eight short months. Nuss promised me that I’ll be commissioned as a Lieutenant for my prior experience. (Ha, ha--isn’t that scary!?)

 

Just like at the TCTA, everyone here has an additional duty to perform. Mine is helping out at the library two hours a week categorizing new items as they come in. It’s not a bad job, but it is rather simple. I find it a bit tedious and boring at times, but I suppose that the information is necessary to keep everyone up to date on all of the new regulations coming out. Rules are very important.

 

How is your new apartment? I imagine that life is a lot different since Father’s been gone, but I suppose I would have moved as well with nothing more than an Echo to keep me company. Nuss could hardly believe me when I told him Rayne had convinced you to move house in favour of a more manageable sized one in Coronet City. If my marks improve, I might be eligible to request leave at some point. Perhaps I could see you on your birthday?

 

Well, I need to go now. Say ‘hello’ to Rayne, and the boys, and tell him ‘thank you’ for his help and support. I think I’ve found my niche here.

 

Your loyal and loving daughter,

Beryl

 

 

Jana had almost dismissed the letter as having been sent incorrectly... right up until the mention of Berasmus and Rayne. Immediately, her eyes dropped to the signature and her eyes widened. Bits and pieces of the letter began to jump out at her and she realized the letter was truly intended for her. She couldn't count the times she'd scolded Beryl in the past, though they'd all ended with the same, "Yes, mother," sort of response from Beryl.

 

So if Jana was 'mom', that made Nic 'dad'. The next word that caught her eye was 'yesterday' and her eyes narrowed as she recalled the circumstances surrounding Nic's death. She scanned the date on the letter and her rage began to build. Reibe had flat-out lied to her... had even concealed the truth. And what for? Nothing! Resisting the urge to drop the letter and find Reibe for a punch-out, Jana continued reading.

 

The letter seemed a little disjointed, but after reading it through a few times (gritting her teeth in irritation every time she came to the vague suggestion that Nic's death had not been so long ago as she'd been led to believe), she decided she finally understood its meaning.

 

Beryl was on Carida. She was scared. She was planning an escape. And Jana's birthday was no more than three days away. There had once been a time when Jana would have gone first to Reibe with this news, but she was frustrated with the mysterious woman enough that she would not go to her now.

 

After just a moment's hesitation, she knocked on the door before her... Jeez's door.

[JasraLantill]

Carida Academy—Dining Hall--1205hrs

 

A dinner tray in hand, Beryl sat down at an empty table. She had about a half and hour to eat before she had to the Officer Candidate Complex. Her meal was light—salad and some grilled nuna--as the increased gravity of the planet made the uphill hike to the OCC difficult.

 

As she looked out the window, she could see a squadron of TIEs coming into land in the hanger, obviously coming home from a training exercise. She sighed. Training exercises. That’s what she would be doing after lunch. Take her meds, then get taught more Imperial propaganda and protocol, and then a training exercise. Some days it was a 20km hike with full combat gear. Other times, it was an obstacle course, or target shooting, or combat readiness drills. And every once in a while, it would be a live fire exercise. Beryl hated those. Someone always died.

 

As she pushed her food around in circles on her plate, her thoughts began to drift….

 

Donned in protective armor, but only covering the chest, upper arms and thighs, Beryl moved out with the rest of her squad to the exercise field’s entry point. It was a large outdoor area, made up to look like a typical urban city, with plenty of nooks and crannies for ambushes. The ‘live’ targets that the Drill Instructor had mentioned were indeed that—live. Mostly prisoners on a death mark, they were desperate and had no qualms about killing anyone. A few were rumoured to have actually escaped the confines of the base, but Beryl knew that this wasn’t true. It was only to give their targets hope and keep them ‘lively’.

 

She skirted around the buildings, taking care to use the Force as she felt out for lifesigns. Usually she would locate one of the ‘live-ees’ (as the cadets called the prisoners) that was acting as a watchman or there to set up an ambush. Either way, Beryl would still wait until they shot first before killing them. That way, she at least felt that she had given them a chance.

 

One such solitary lifeform was just up ahead, hiding in an alcove of one of the buildings. She crept up slowly, careful to mask her steps and not make a sound, until…

 

“Hands up,” she said, as she peered out around the corner of the wall. Her finger on the trigger, she was ready to fire upon her target the moment they fired upon her. Only they didn’t fire.

 

“Beryl? Beryl, is that you?”

 

She lowered her weapon slightly. “Yeah….” She poked her head around the corner a bit more so she could see her target’s face. And then her brow creased. “Nic?”

 

“In the flesh,” he said, giving her a cheesy grin as he eyed her over. “Body armor, huh? Thought you guys were supposed to be ‘tough’.”

 

“Thought you guys were supposed to be ruthless,” Beryl replied. She moved in closer to him. “So, you haven't managed to escape yet?"

 

"Look who's talking."

 

“Ha ha, very funny.” She looked over her shoulder. “Look, if you do manage to escape, you should head for the Synergy Cantina. We’re restricted from going there, but I’ve heard that it’s because it’s run by a local crime boss. Strange that they allow him to operate so close to a training base, but….”

 

Nic nodded. “Yeah, well, stranger things have happened. So, you gonna shoot me now or later?”

 

“Huh?” Then she realised she was still pointing her weapon at him. “Oh. Sorry.” She lowered her blaster rifle. “No, I wasn’t planning on shooting you.”

 

“Good.”

 

An awkward moment of silence passed between them, but finally Nic said, “So, last I saw you, you and my brother seemed to be getting pretty close."

 

"Do you have to bring that up now?” Beryl sighed. “Look, I did what I did to protect you from getting tortured on the way here. It didn’t mean anything. It was all an act."

 

"Well, you're a great actress!"

 

“Oh? And what was I supposed to do? Watch Kriss torture you over and over again?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t bear it.”

 

“Oh, so you couldn’t watch me get hurt, but you could let me watch you sleep with my brother,” Nic said cynically. “I see.”

 

“I told you it didn’t mean anything! It was all an act.”

 

“Oh, Kriss! Oh, Kriss!” Nic mocked in a high-pitched voice. “That was all for my benefit, huh? As an act?”

 

“Look, what do you want from me?! I said I was sorry!” Beryl snapped. “I did it for you, okay? I didn’t want to see you tortured and hurt! You had to have known I didn’t have any feelings for your brother. I only did it because I l…!”

 

“What’s going on over there?!”

 

It was the voice of her Drill Instructor. Beryl’s face went ashen. Her eyes darted about the area, and then, coming up with an idea, she aimed her weapon and fired.

 

“Oww!” Nic fell to the ground, clutching a spot on his upper leg. “What is it with you Corellian women and your leg directed sadisim!”

 

“Sorry,” Beryl whispered, her weapon still focused on him.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Quitaan!” the Drill Instructor yelled at her as he approached them. “I don’t recall taking prisoners as part of the mission briefing!” He began to count off on his fingers. “It was number one, infiltrate. Number two, locate. And number three, dee-stroy!” He moved closer to her. “So what the hell do you think you’re doing by not killing this target, Quitaan?”

 

“Locating, sir!”

 

“What?!”

 

“Interrogating the prisoner to find out where their stronghold is, sir! ‘A dead man cannot be interrogated’, sir! Section Four, Paragraph 8, Sub-paragraph 1 of the ‘Imperial Military Guidelines for Covert Operations and Intelligence Gathering’, sir!”

 

“Oh, is that right?” The DI gave her a hard stare. “You know, I’m sick and tired of you quoting damned regulations to me, Quitaan. I don’t care if your brother is the kriffin’ Emperor, you do what I say, when I say it! You understand?!”

 

“Sir, yes, sir!”

 

“Now you kill that kriffin son of a gundark in front of you, right now!” He pointed at Nic.

 

But Beryl pointed her weapon at the DI.

 

“Sir, yes, sir,” she said in a very sinister tone. And then she fired. The DI was killed instantly--with a shot right between his eyes.

 

“Oops,” she said deadpan. “Another live fire mishap. How tragic.” She looked at Nic. “You’d better get going, or at least go and hide, before any others in my squad come to see what’s happened.”

 

“You shot me in the leg,” Nic said as he struggled to his feet.

 

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

 

“You. Shot. Me. In. The. Leg.”

 

Beryl raised her brow with indignation. “I'm sorry! At least yours is only a flesh wound. I shot him in the head, okay?”

 

“Gimme your rifle.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Give. Me. Your. Rifle.”

 

“I. Heard. What. You. Said,” said Beryl, frowning suspiciously. “Why?”

 

“They'll court martial and execute you if they think you killed your sergeant. If it's me, they'll just throw me in solitary for a few weeks!"

 

Beryl started to give him the rifle, but then hesitated.

 

"Beryl, now!" Nic beckoned with his hand.

 

“No…. I can’t. I'll be in more trouble if I lose my rifle.” She looked down at the dead DI. “They won’t test the bolt to see where it came from anyway. He’s an enlisted man. Here,” she knelt down and extracted the DI’s own gun—a DC-15S blaster carbine, “you want a gun, take his. Oh, by the way, I sent Betsy and her sharp and pointy friend to visit my brother. He’ll look after them until….” She shrugged. “Just until.”

 

She tossed him the pistol, and then began to back away, careful to mirror her footsteps she had made on the way in to the alcove. She had only gone a few meters when she heard a loud, screaming whistle. She looked up just in time to see some sort of missile falling from the sky and heading directly to the building she had just exited. “Nic!” she screamed out a warning, and then everything had gone dark as the concussion wave hit her.

 

“Who’s Nic?”

 

Beryl was jarred from her thoughts. “Huh?”

 

“I said, ‘who’s Nic?’” Captain Aiken repeated as he casually pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. "Or are you trying to hide that you have another 'special friend' beside me on this base?"

 

Beryl gave him a quick grin. “Old friend, sir,” she said to Aiken. “He… he died, sir.”

 

“Oh. Clone Wars?” Aiken asked, as he prepared to start eating his meal.

 

Beryl paused for a moment. “Yes, sir. Clone Wars,” she lied. She gave Aiken a smile. The dark-haired Flight Evaluator was her ticket out of this place, but he seemed resistant to Force persuasion, so it behooved her to play ‘nice’ with him. “So, any plans for tomorrow, sir?” she asked him.

[stingerhs]

Removing his outer cloak, Jeez brought it up next to his nose and breathed in deep. Well, its not too bad. Still, it could use a good wash, Jeez thought to himself. Removing the rest of the upper robes that he wore, Jeez brought his clothes over to the refresher. Reaching behind him, Jeez used the Force to remove a bottle of cleaning agent from his bag, and it quickly snapped to his hand. Catching it, Jeez then brought it around and mixed a couple drops of the agent with the water that was running from the faucet.

 

Swirling the clothes around in the refresher, Jeez picked up the familiar smell of the cleaning agent, and it caused his mind to drift as memories began to flood his mind. He remembered the first time he had smelled the agent, and he remembered watching Ryshana use it to wash a set of her clothes a long time ago. He had adopted the use of the agent rather begrudgingly at the time because he didn't really like the smell. It was a bit too flowery to his liking. Ironically, Jeez now couldn't give up the use of the agent: the smell helped him to remember the little things about Ryshana.

 

Pushing some of the thoughts from his mind, Jeez began to concentrate on the Force as he continued to scrub the robes almost absently. Almost immediately, Jeez seemed to be swept away as a multitude of images flooded his mind. Feeling himself, Jeez concentrated on the part of him that had died along with Ryshana. Memories of her quickly flooded his mind, and Jeez could feel the coldness of the Darkside as he probed it.

 

As he pressed further, Jeez could see the vision of the woman under the burning wreckage, and Jeez recognized Ryshana's voice crying for help. Then, the image shifted, and Jeez could see the blaster bolt moving in slow motion as it connected with Ryshana's head. As the bolt connected, Jeez could only watch in pain as the bolt slowly began to burn through her soft skin and moved inside of her skull. Finally, Jeez was overwhelmed with a wave of cold darkness as he felt her die once again.

 

In the darkness, Jeez clutched himself as the coldness quickly began to numb him to the bone. Then, off in the distance, Jeez could hear someone crying. Almost instantly, Jeez recognized Ryshana's voice as she sobbed and moaned in pain. Frustration began to mount for Jeez, however, as he frantically looked around in the darkness and saw nothing.

 

"And what will you do now, I wonder," a man stated behind him. Turning around in an instant, Jeez saw Admiral Quitaan in full Imperial Dress standing before him. "She's dead you know."

 

"You killed her," Jeez stated as he glared at the Admiral. Hatred quickly began to well inside of Jeez as he looked intently at the man.

 

"And so I did. I was only doing what I had to do, but I don't suppose that you would understand since you don't know any of your brothers or sisters," Admiral Quitaan replied as he stood there with his hands behind his back. Off in the distance, Jeez could hear the moans grow louder ever so gradually.

 

"But I can hear her. She's not dead," Jeez commented as he started to feel the warmth of hope swell into him.

 

Looking around as if he was trying to hear something, the Admiral then replied, "I don't hear anything. Besides, how can you hear her if she's dead? I know that she's dead because I killed her, and I know that dead people don't say anything."

 

At the phrase, "because I killed her", Jeez shuddered as he felt the Darkside tingle in a slight wave of cold across his back. Looking down away from Admiral Quitaan, Jeez then saw a small blaster pistol sitting on the ground. Using the Force, Jeez snatched the blaster straight to his hand. Studying the pistol, Jeez then looked back over at Admiral Quitaan. Feeling the cold swirl across him, Jeez leveled the pistol at the Admiral.

 

Smiling, the Admiral then said, "So you'll kill me now? Well, isn't this interesting. You let me live last time."

 

"What's the difference? You deserve to die," Jeez stated as he sighted the Admiral's head in the sights of the pistol.

 

"Oh really? Just a minute ago, you told me that she was still alive even though I couldn't hear her," the Admiral commented. "You'll kill me even though she's alive. That's interesting."

 

"But you just said that she'd dead," Jeez replied.

 

"And you just said that she's alive, but now you think she's dead? You Jedi never could get your bearings straight. I'll tell you what, go ahead and kill me. You might be confused, but I'm not: Ryshana is dead because I killed her. You have every right to kill me," Admiral Quitaan said.

 

Jeez hesitated. Off in the distance, he could still hear Ryshana crying for help, but her voice was starting to grow ever distant. His aim wavered as he lost concentration, and he quickly steadied the weapon as he aimed it.

 

"Well, what are you waiting for, Jedi? I'm right here. Your vengeance is just a trigger pull away. A simple pull of the trigger, and you can rest easy in knowing that her death was avenged," the Admiral stated calmly.

 

Trying to concentrate, Jeez's mind raced as he tried to understand. In the distance, Ryshana's cries continued, but yet, Jeez knew that she was dead. How could he not take the chance to avenge her when he was standing right there? Then again, how could one avenge an action that had not taken place? Jeez struggled to comprehend, and his mind raced as he tried to make a decision. Trying to focus, Jeez noticed that the pistol had drifted away, and Jeez then quickly sighted the pistol yet again.

 

Looking into the Admiral's eyes, Jeez tried to understand. Finally, Jeez decided to go ahead and make a decision. In an instant, the pistol fell from Jeez's grip and clattered on the ground. Around him, Jeez could feel the icy grip of the Darkside ebbing away, and the image of the Admiral began to fade. "You had your chance, Jedi, but now you only show your weakness," the Admiral stated as he slowly disappeared.

 

"No, my mercy only reveals my strength," Jeez replied as he glared into the Admiral's eyes. Finally, the Admiral disappeared, and Jeez could see Ryshana standing behind where the Admiral had once stood. Seeing her, Jeez's demeanor changed in an instant, and he looked on her with despairing eyes.

 

"There you are. I've been looking for you," Ryshana said as she looked into Jeez's eyes. "Don't worry, Jeez. I've been your strength before, and I will be your strength even now. Push the death and darkness away, and I will always be there to strengthen you even in your most dire hour."

 

Closing his eyes, Jeez could finally feel the dead part of him drift away to be replaced with the familiar warmth that had been there whenever Ryshana was alive. Lifting his head up, Jeez then opened his eyes to catch another glimpse of Ryshana.

 

In front of him, Jeez only saw his own reflection in the mirror of the small guest room. Feeling the wetness in his hands, Jeez looked down and realized that he was still scrubbing his robes clean. Sighing to himself, Jeez just shook his head. Closing his eyes to concentrate a bit, Jeez tried to feel the dead part that had been with him, but he found that it was no longer there. Instead, Jeez could once again feel the warmth that had been there before. Opening his eyes, Jeez realized that the bond that he had shared with Ryshana was there once again.

 

Smiling, Jeez finished the scrubbing and began to wring the robes dry. Feeling something, Jeez turned his head towards the door and felt outside the door only to feel Jana's presence. Well, this should be interesting, Jeez thought to himself. Draping his robes over the chair by the desk, Jeez heard a knock at the door. As he was turned away from the door, Jeez just reached behind him and used the Force to activate the button that opened the door.

 

With a swish, the door opened, and Jana was greeted to a view of Jeez without a shirt. His well developed and defined body was hardly and indicator of his age. Seeing Jana, Jeez then said, "Ahh, my dearest Captain. What can I do for you?"

[starmark2k]

Nic was once again inside the same Cantina as he had been in so many times before in the past week, still waiting for the same person. He sat in the same seat, drinking the same drink and watching the door as he always did.

 

His mind often wondered when he did this, mostly to the last few times he saw Beryl and occasionally to the rest of his crew. What was dwelling on his mind now was the when he was a captive on the Reaper and Beryl came to visit him…

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The door to the cell opened, and Beryl stepped in. She was dressed in the black uniform of an Imperial naval officer, although with an absence of rank insignia or code cylinders.

 

“Thank you,” she said to the guard. But when the guard failed to leave the room, she added, “I was told I could speak with him alone. I’ll call you if I need any assistance.”

 

Reluctantly, and with a suspicious glare, the guard left, and Beryl was alone in the room with the hooded prisoner. His hands were suspended up above him, and he wasn’t moving. With a concerned crease on her brow, Beryl pushed the switch that disabled the energy binders holding his arms upright. As Nic’s body collapsed to the floor, she moved in towards him.

 

“Nic?” she called out softly to him. When he didn’t answer, she knelt down beside him and carefully removed the hood from his head. She gasped as she saw the bruises on his face, and then she winced herself as she tried to fend off the effects of the neural collar hidden under the collar of her shirt.

 

“Nic? Nic?” Beryl whispered softly into his ear. “Nic, it’s me—Beryl.” She gave him a gentle caress down the side of his face, mindful of the multiple bruises, and as Nic’s eyes slowly opened, she smiled at him. “Hi.”

 

“Beryl?” Nic blinked.

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” she said to him. She gave him a worried look as she surveyed his wounds and bruises and marks from the shock stick. “You okay? You look terrible.”

 

“Thanks,” Nic said. “It only hurts when I laugh.” He chuckled, and then winced in pain.

 

“Nic, what happened? How did you get here?” Beryl wanted to know.

 

“Me being duped again, as usual.”

 

“What about the others? Jana? Cloud?”

 

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “But Oliver’s dead.”

 

“Oh.” Beryl paused a beat. “So, is Ryshana.” She bit her lip, pausing as if she needed time for the information to sink in as well. “My brother killed her,” she disclosed. “Shot her in the head while we were waiting to be picked up from the prison. Anyway, nothing we can do about that now. At least you’re okay.” She again surveyed his battered body. “Sort of,” she added with a weak grin.

 

“Beryl, what are you doing here?” Nic asked. “And why are you wearing that…that…?” He gave a quick nod as he flicked his eyes over her.

 

“Uniform?” she offered. “Well, I got tired of the carefree lifestyle of a being on a freelance freighter and thought I’d swap it for a life of harsh discipline and order as an officer candidate,” she said deadpan, and then she gave him a crooked smile. “What do you think? Same as you, I got captured.”

 

Nic let out a doleful sigh. “Oh Beryl….”

 

“I know, I know… black isn’t really my color,” she said, avoiding his gaze by looking down again at her uniform. “At least this fits me better than the prison standard one-size-fits-all drab-gray gear.” She tried to smile, but it faded quickly. “Berasmus is sending me to Carida, forcing me to make good on my ‘so-called enlistment’ that I ditched out on a while back. He’s here on this ship. Well, was here, until he placed me in custodial custody,” she added quietly.

 

“I know. I met him.”

 

“You met him? Really?” She paused a moment as if trying to figure out it that was good or bad. “I couldn’t do anything to stop him Nic. Me, Ryshana, Jeez, Sam, and Conn—we were all under cover in the hanger bay, waiting for the Echo when my brother showed up. Said he wanted to talk, negotiate. Ryshana believed him.” She snorted ruefully. “She shouldn’t have. He killed her—completely dishonourably, too. Shot her in the head without fair warning and under a guise of truce—and there wasn’t a damn thing Jeez or I could do about it.”

 

“Jeez?”

 

“Ryshana’s husband. He’s a Jedi.” When Nic’s brows raised in bewilderment, she added, “Yeah, that kind a threw me for a loop, too.” She sat herself down on the floor next to him. “Kriffin’ Jedi… you think you’ve got them figured out and then… bam! Something weird happens and makes you rethink your entire opinion of them.”

 

“So, how’s that going? Your new… erm, hobby.”

 

“Gave it up,” Beryl said with all seriousness. “Too risky and….” She lowered the corner of her shirt collar to reveal the neural collar. “Well, with my new jewellery, it’s just not very fun anymore.”

 

Nic nodded. “Listen to me, Beryl. You need to get yourself out of here. Don’t worry about me. Just do what you have to do and get off this ship.”

 

“I can’t, Nic.”

 

“You have to.”

 

“I can’t. I… made a promise.” She looked away from him. “But it’s going to be alright. Captain Raikelli said so.”

 

“You’ve met the Captain?” Nic’s face went ashen. “Stay away from him, Beryl. He’ll hurt you. He’ll hurt you in order to hurt me.”

 

Beryl frowned a bit. “Really? He seemed… well,… nice. For a rigid rule-following Imp, that is,” she added. “He’s the one who let me see you.”

 

“Well, he’s not nice, and he can and will hurt you,” Nic said. “Stay away from him. As far away as you can.”

 

“He can’t hurt me,” Beryl said, her eyes meeting his once again. “He’s under orders from my brother to deliver me to Carida ‘in good health.’”

 

"Look I know him. He doesn't care who your brother is. He is driven by a lust for revenge against me.”

 

"He can't hurt me." She gave him a reassuring grin. "It' s not just my brother he has to worry about. He's an Imperial officer and orders are orders."

 

"This doesn't matter to him.... Look, Captain Kriss Raikelli is my brother. I know him very, very well. When he's determined to do something nothing, nothing can stop him!"

 

"Your... brother?" Beryl gave Nic a critical look, taking in his multiple injuries. "Your brother did this to you?" She donned a worried frown. Even Berasmus, as angry as he was at her, hadn’t beaten her. "Why?"

 

"I... It's complicated, all you have to know is if he even suspects you have any feelings for me he'll manipulate it."

 

Beryl swallowed hard. "He already knows. Berasmus told him that I had a ‘special interest’ in you. I told him it was because you’re my captain, but….” She shrugged. “My brother’s assigned Captain Raikelli to be my ‘custodial officer’. My quarters are right next door to his. I can’t exactly stay away from….”

 

The door opened and an Imperial medic strode in, a medical kit in his hands.

 

“I’ve got to go, Nic,” Beryl said. “The medic is going to take care of your wounds. You’ll still be bound, but hopefully, you’ll feel a bit better. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again, but….” She leaned in, giving him a light kiss on the lips, again mindful not to cause him any pain from his bruises. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered into his ear. “We’ll get through this, Nic. You’ll see.”

[JasraLantill]

Officer Candidate Complex—1305 hrs

 

Beryl stood in formation with the rest of her squad waiting for her turn to be called up to the med station. Not all of the cadets in the Re-education Program required daily meds, just those who had been classified as 'resistant' to training--which basically meant those few who had been pressed into service against their will because of a certain skill they possessed that the Empire needed. Beryl, being an experienced pilot, had one of those skills. Some of the others in her squad were aerospace engineers, computer programmers, electro-mechanical designers, and even an architect.

 

Finally it was her turn. She walked up to the med station, inserted her key card into the slot, and then stuck her arm into the automated holder. A clamp came down on her wrist, holding her arm still while a medical droid shot her up with a cocktail of different psychotropic medications.

 

Beryl felt the rush that always came with the injections. Disorienting and frightening at first, now it was almost akin to pleasure. Still, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the Force, trying to fight off the effect of the drugs as well as accelerate her metabolism to get them out of her system faster.

 

After the injections, the next stop today was to see her "training adviser", Dr. Ferrana. He was a middle-aged man, slightly balding, slightly pudgy, and definitely a slimeball. In a way, he sort of reminded Beryl of Dr. Twerna, the psycho-doctor that had implanted Jeez and Ryshana with those horrible control ports in their heads, and Beryl often wondered if they had known each other.

 

"Good afternoon!" Dr. Ferrana greeted her. "And how are we today?"

 

Beryl hated that. 'We'. How are 'we' today. He always said that, and Beryl always had to bite her tongue, because what she really wanted to say, "I don't know about you, Doc, but 'I' am fine today." But she never did. If she wanted to escape, the worst thing that she could do was be rude.

 

"I'm fine, thank you, sir," she said politely.

 

He motioned for her to have a seat in one of the two chairs that were in the small examination room. She sat down, and the doctor began to apply self-sticking sensor pads to her temples, wrists, neck and upper back. That done, the doctor tapped a couple of switches on the datapad and a console on the wall began to display Beryl’s vital signs.

 

"Pulse 55, Respiration 12, BP 120/80, Beta waves rhythmic at 13.. . Any headaches?"

 

"No, sir." The doctor ticked something on the datapad.

 

"Palpitations? Shortness of breath?”

 

"No, sir." Again, he ticked something on his datapad.

 

“Sleeplessness?”

 

“No, sir.” Another box ticked.

 

"Bad dreams?"

 

Beryl paused. "Not as often, sir,” she said more slowly.

 

“Ah.” Dr. Ferrana wrote something on the datapad, checked her vitals again, and then sat down in the chair across from her. “So, Beryl,” he started. He had always called her by her first name--to establish a good rapport and strong doctor/patient relationship, he had told her. But even after seeing him nearly every day for two months, Beryl still wasn’t sure what kind of ‘doctor’ he was. She thought he had been a psychologist as first, but as time went on she wasn’t quite as sure. “Tell me about your dreams?”

 

“It’s the same one, sir.”

 

“The one with your friend who died?” Ferrana asked. “Ryshana?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Beryl answered. Even though she used the Force to concentrate through the haze of the drugs that were circulating in her system, the medications had always made it difficult for her not to tell him anything but the truth. Since Nic had died though, she had just about stopped resisting. “She was trying to tell me something, but she was too far away. I couldn’t hear her, sir.”

 

Again, something was scribbled on the doctor’s datapad. “And what happened next in your dream?”

 

“I tried to move towards her, sir. But the harder I tried, the further away from me she went.”

 

“Ah-ha,” Doctor Ferrana grunted, and scribbled something on his datapad. “And how did this make you feel?”

 

“Feel, sir?”

 

Again, he scribbled again on his datapad. “Yes. What sort of emotions were you experiencing in your dream? Were you angry that your friend couldn’t hear you? Upset?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Saddened?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Frustrated?”

 

“No.. sir.”

 

More scribbles. “You sound unsure.”

 

Beryl closed her eyes for a moment trying to concentrate on the question while also concentrating on fighting the effects of the medications. “Actually, sir, I can’t really recall feeling anything.”

 

More scribbles. “Well, Beryl, you’re progressing through the program nicely, but I’m slightly concerned about your lack of socialization.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Your dreams indicate that you’re feeling alone, isolated, maybe even slightly depressed. You need to socialize more with your fellow cadets. Eat a meal together. Go to a party. Have a long chat. You have two leave days starting tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Dr. Ferrana smiled. “Go and make some new friends.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Socializing… she already had that covered. She had arranged a ‘flight’ date with Captain Aiken for the next day.

 

The doctor called the next cadet in, and dismissed her to her Imperial Theory class.

[Writer]

Jana had definitely not been expecting Jeez to be shirtless and with her present state of mental confusion, the sight nearly sent her over the top. "I-I-I..." she stammered, blinking furiously in an attempt to regather her thoughts. Then, she felt the datapad in her hand and everything came back into focus.

 

"Beryl contacted me," she announced. "And I... well, I'm intent on going to help her, but I want another perspective on the issue." She held out the datapad with Beryl's letter on it. "She asked me to read between the lines..." she offered, hoping the suggestion was helpful to the Jedi.

[stingerhs]

Seeing Jana in a bit of confusion, it finally dawned on Jeez that it was a bit much for her to see him without his shirt. "My apologies, Captain," Jeez stated in reference to his shirtless condition. Reaching into his bag, Jeez quickly found a fairly ragged white long sleeved shirt and slipped into it. It was loose fitting all around, but at least it covered him up.

 

As Jana offered him the datapad, Jeez just nodded as he reached out and took the datapad from her. Reading the datapad, Jeez's mind quickly drifted in Beryl's direction. Surprisingly, Jeez felt that he had almost instantly connected to the Force, and he sensed the familiar presence of his wife. As he finished reading the datapad, Jeez set the datapad down and closed his eyes.

 

"There she is, Jeez," Ryshana's voice stated inside of his head. "On Carida."

 

His thoughts quickly shifted to the strongly loyal Imperial system. On the planet, Jeez could sense Beryl. She seemed to be drifting away from him, and he could feel darkness swirling around her.

 

Opening his eyes, Jeez just looked down aimlessly on the floor.

 

"Jeez?" Jana stated.

 

Bringing his eyes back up to Jana, Jeez offered the datapad back to Jana. "Well, it is Beryl all right. Its supposed to be a message to you, from what I can tell. She's on Carida, but I'm afraid that it might already be too late. I sense much confusion coming from her, and the Darkside swirls around Beryl. I can't tell if she's turned, but my guess is that she's being influenced a great deal in the wrong direction," Jeez commented as he considered it for himself.

 

Before Jana could say something, Jeez looked her dead in the eyes and said, "We need to help her. Whatever it takes, I sense that it is absolutely imperative that we help her now before she turns to the Darkside."

 

Pausing for a moment, Jeez then asked, "You haven't given this information to Riebe, have you?"

[Rogue Nine]

"Hah, beat you again, Harlowe!" Beryl Quitaan exclaimed as she laid down her cards on the table, displaying the Ace of Staves and the Eight of Flasks. Pure Sabacc. "You owe me dinner for a week!"

 

Dr. Conway Harlowe grimaced as he looked down at his cards. The Two of Coins and the Three of Sabres, nowhere near the value of twenty-three that he needed to split the pot with Beryl. "Maybe," he grudgingly replied. He had one last chance to beat her hand, but the chances of that were astronomical, since The Idiot card had not come up at all the entire game. He didn't like his odds, and he couldn't really ignore them because, unlike Beryl, he wasn't Corellian. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He reached tentatively into the neutralization field for his last draw, fully expecting to find nothing of use. It was only after he'd settled the card next to his other two that he realized he'd beaten the odds. "Maybe not," he continued, keeping his voice level as he laid his cards carefully down on the table, revealing the smiling face of The Idiot card last and completing the Idiot's Array, the only hand capable of beating Pure Sabacc.

 

Beryl's smile immediately dropped off her face to be replaced with a rather sullen look. "You have got to be kidding me," she groaned as she stared at Conn's cards. "How in the Nine Hells did you hit the Idiot?"

 

Conn couldn't help grinning. "I guess it takes one to get one?"

 

"Must be," Beryl said as she gathered up the cards in disgust. "Man, I can't believe I owe you now."

 

"You've always owed me," Conn replied, taking a swig of Corellian brandy from his glass. "I'm the doctor, you're the constantly-banged up test jockey, remember?"

 

"Yeah yeah yeah," the blonde pilot conceded, deactivating the neutralization field and stowing away the sabacc deck. "Bloody doctors," she muttered.

 

Conn chuckled, but carefully studied Beryl's expression. It had been two full months since her fiancé’s tragic death and Conn wanted to be sure that his friend was holding up well. The circumstances surrounding Dr. Gareth Harker's demise were most bizarre and it had taken Beryl quite some time to come to grips with the situation. Conn caught just a little bit of pain behind her 'bloody doctors' comment and guessed that Gareth's death still weighed heavily on her mind. He was about to exert a little Zeltron magic to make her feel better when he noticed an oddly-shaped piece of metal sticking out of the collar of her blouse. "Hey, what's that?" he asked, leveling a finger at it.

 

Beryl looked down at where Conn was pointing. "Oh, this," she said, pulling out the scrap of metal hanging from a chain around her neck. She held it up for Conn to see. "You know what this is."

 

It took Conn a few seconds to realize what it was. "Oh," he said, feeling somewhat sheepish. The bit of shrapnel was twisted into a rough approximation of a heart. Conn had given it to Beryl after their very first meeting, when he had to extract it from her chest (along with several other pieces) following a particularly hellacious accident that had seen another fiancé of hers killed. It had seemed like a silly, spur-of-the-moment gesture, so Conn was particularly surprised to find out that she had kept it after all this time. "You still have that?"

 

"Well, yeah," Beryl replied. "It's my good luck charm. I haven't gotten into any serious accidents since you gave it to me." She gave him a small smile. "It's like you were watching over me."

 

Conn felt his face redden. "Well, you have gotten better at bringing prototypes back unscathed," he mused. "Maybe it does work."

 

“Maybe,” she agreed, though she sounded distant. A rush of sadness and melancholy rolled off of her. “Too bad that luck doesn’t extend to my fiancés, eh?” Her voice broke just a little bit.

 

Conn was about to say something comforting, but just then, the opening lyrics of Annadale Fayde's song "Emotional Hostages" started playing over the club's speaker system. As Fayde crooned her sultry tune, Conn had an idea. He stood up, then reached over, grabbed Beryl’s hand and hauled her up as well. “C’mon,” he said, pulling her towards the dance floor.

 

“Conn?” Beryl started, surprised by the doctor’s sudden actions. “What are you doing?”

 

“Being your doctor and looking out for your well-being,” he replied, twirling her around to face him. He put her left arm on his right shoulder and gripped her free hand with his, then started moving to the music. “B, I’m tired of you being all morose. It’s not like you. Call me insensitive or what not, but you need to move on with your life. You can’t go on like this.”

 

He paused and waited for her response. This was the first time he’d actively confronted her regarding her fiancé Gareth’s death. After he had died from a fatal anaphylactic reaction to a dinner course he and Beryl had shared, she had closed herself off to the outside world for a while. She came to work and did her job, but did not socialize, only speaking when necessary and in general being a shell of the person she once was. It was only in the past week that Conn had been able to re-awaken some of the old Beryl, the spunky Corellian he had befriended following their first fateful meeting.

 

She looked at him with her wide, vividly blue eyes, their corners already moist. For a moment, Conn thought she would slap him and storm off, but as Fayde launched into the chorus, Beryl closed her eyes and buried her face into his shoulder. Conn breathed a sigh of relief and stroked the back of her head as they danced slowly.

 

*****

 

Later that night, they sat next to each other on the pier overlooking Coromon Beach. Beryl hugged her legs tightly to her chest as she leaned on Conn’s shoulder. After a few tranquil moments, she spoke. “Thanks, Conn.”

 

“Anytime, B,” Conn responded, a satisfied smile on his face. “You know I care for you, so I couldn’t stand to see you put yourself through that.”

 

Beryl nodded. “I know,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I think you care too much.”

 

Conn stiffened slightly. Do I care too much? he thought to himself. After a few moments’ contemplation, he decided he did. “And what if I do?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

 

It was Beryl’s turn to stiffen. Conn was a wonderful friend, but did she risk returning his feelings and potentially dooming him? She fought with herself for a few minutes and lifted her head off his shoulder and gazed out into the horizon.

 

Conn tilted his head toward her, studying her expression but saying nothing.

 

Beryl bit her lip and was quiet for a while. When she finally spoke, her voice was subdued. “Well, if you are, then I guess you’ll be needing this.” She reached under her collar and pulled the chain up over her head and dangled it towards Conn. At his confused expression, she chuckled and said, “Hey buddy, you’re going to need all the luck you can get.”

 

“Oh,” Conn said, realizing what she meant. He tentatively reached out and took the chain, running his fingers over the small shrapnel piece. He studied it for a few more seconds, then slipped it over his head and tucked it under his shirt.

 

Beryl smiled and leaned her head back into his shoulder.

 

*****

 

Conn opened his eyes slowly. The bright streaks of stars whizzing past the front viewport greeted him. He shook his head in an attempt to rouse himself, then checked the chrono on the console. He’d only dozed off for about half an hour, reliving a happy memory. Sighing, he leaned back into his chair and pulled the shrapnel heart from under his shirt, sighing nostalgically.

[JasraLantill]

Officer Candidate Complex--1540hrs

 

For the past two hours Beryl had been enduring Imperial Theory class—listening to Imperial propaganda and then discussing how to implement the ideas into their daily lives. With the lectures being given under the full effect of the psychotropic drugs, Beryl was beginning to doubt her own thought processes. She feared she was starting to think like an Imperial.

 

The Academy kept the re-ed cadets pretty busy at all times, (as that made them have less time to think about anything other than their training,) but after the Theory class, they were always given a short half-hour break in a special re-ed lounge before they started their additional duties. Contemplation time it was called called—a time to reflect and allow the theory lesson to be ‘absorbed’ more thoroughly. As usual, Beryl took a seat on the couch by the window that overlooked the hanger bays and landing pads. Normally she just watched the fighters and ships taking off and landing while she tried to focus in on the Force to try to clear her head of all the lies and half-truths. But today, that was not to be.

 

“Hi.” Cadet Straden, one of her fellow re-ed cadets, came and sat down next to her on the couch. “So, how are you doing?” he asked in a quiet and unassuming voice.

 

Beryl turned her head to look at him. “How am I doing?” she repeated his question.

 

“Yeah,” Straden said, nodding. “How are you doing? That was a pretty intense class we just had. I just wondered what you thought about it.”

 

“I voiced my thoughts in discussion group,” Beryl replied.

 

“Yes, but…” He looked warily over his shoulder to where the other cadets in their class were either sitting in meditation, or were engaged in quiet conversations in groups of two or three. “C’mon,” he said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “What I mean is, I know that you, like me, don’t believe all the things they tell us in that class. Like, how the former Separatist worlds are welcoming the Empire’s help in rebuilding their societal infrastructures’?” He flashed a doubtful grimace. “Please.”

 

“Stranger things have happened,” Beryl replied enigmatically. She wasn’t exactly sure where Straden was going with this conversation, but she did wonder why he was taking a huge risk in being so outspoken, especially in a room she knew was monitored by Dr. Ferrana.

 

“I guess.” Straden was silent for a moment. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“When I first came here, there was no way that I would have thought that the Empire’s goals were for everyone’s benefit. I wasn't just a bio-chemical engineer, you know. I used to volunteer as a relief worker for a charity in my spare time. Maybe you’ve heard of it--The Hydian Relief Fund?”

 

“I’ve heard of it.”

 

“I saw firsthand the effects of the forced relocations, the curfews, the embargos—starving, displaced peoples with no direction, no goals and no hope. It was horrible.”

 

As a former blockade runner, Beryl had seen ‘horrors’ firsthand, too. “I can imagine.”

 

“So, when my company was taken over by the Empire and I was ‘selected’ for Imperial service,” Straden continued, “I fought tooth and nail against it. But now…” He paused a beat. “Now, I’m thinking that perhaps the Emperor is right. Maybe it is better to force someone to do something, if it’s in his or her best interest, you know? Like, a parent making a child eat vegetables because they are nutritious, even though the kid hates them. The Empire is like the parent, making rules and keeping us safe, and we are the children, learning and growing into productive members of society. Eating our greens, so to speak.” Straden raised an inquiring brow. “You know, you still haven’t answered my question. How are you doing?”

 

Beryl thought for a moment. “Fine.”

 

Straden looked over his shoulder again. “The one thing I don’t like about this place though are the meds. They make me feel kind of sleepy afterwards. Which isn’t much fun when you’re additional duty is auditing payment accounts.” He let out a bored sigh. “When do you think they’ll start easing up on the dosages?”

 

“I guess when they feel that we’ve eaten enough of our greens,” Beryl replied dryly.

 

Straden chuckled. “Good one.” He gave her a curious look then. “You know, I can’t figure out why Dr. Ferrana was worried about you. You seem fine to me.”

 

At his remark, Beryl cautiously raised her right brow. “Why would he be worried?”

 

“He thought you might be experiencing some depression—you know, side effects from the meds? He asked me if I could check on you. See if you were okay.”

 

Beryl snorted with mild amusement. “So, you were spying on me?”

 

Strader thought a moment, and then nodded tentatively. “Yeah…I guess I was. Anyway,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “What are you doing tomorrow? A few of us are going to go into the city to have a meal. Escorted by Major Gant, of course, but still… into the city. You want to join us?”

 

You need to socialise more with your fellow cadets. Eat a meal together. Go to a party. Have a long chat. The words of Dr. Ferrana practically screamed at her. “No, thank you,” Beryl answered politely. “I’ve already got other plans.”

 

“Other plans?”

 

“If you must know, I have a date,” Beryl clarified and she flashed a sort of sardonic-looking grin. “And, before you ask, no--it’s no one you know, and no, it’s not a student, and no, they’re not enlisted, so no, it’s not fraternization.”

 

Straden grinned. “Fair enough,” he said. He rose from the couch. “But the offer’s still open if you change your mind. We’ll be leaving the dorms at about 1130.” He rose from his seat. “See ‘ya around.”

 

“Yeah, see ‘ya.” Beryl looked at her chrono. She had to leave now if she was going to make it to her duty station at the library on time. So much for meditation. She’d have to do it tonight when she got back to her dorm.

 

She headed for the library, which was in the middle of the main Academic Complex. Her ‘additional duty’ consisted of logging in new data packages and materials, and then filing and classifying them into appropriate categories. It was an easy job, and it only took her about 15 minutes to actually do her assigned workload. But, since she was allotted 60 minutes, she took 60 minutes—it gave her extra time to do some poking around in the Imperial databases.

 

She had come across all sorts of unusual and odd data—mostly things that just struck a chord with her for one reason or another—and had drawn some interesting conclusions and formulated some even more interesting theories about what the Empire was doing in various parts of the Galaxy. She had saved copies of these datafiles in an appendix folder on the main library file matrix—but since she was planning on leaving tomorrow, today she spent copying the files onto her code cylinder.

 

As the files were piled into a save queue and the transfer to her code cylinder began, a filename caught her eye as its name flashed at the bottom corner of her screen.

 

Raikelli, Simon--NRSF

 

She frowned slightly, as she recalled the contents of the file. Nic hadn’t ever spoken much about his past, so after he died, she had felt some odd compulsion to find out more about him. Onboard the Reaper Nic had told her that Captain Kriss Raikelli was his brother. But during her research, she discovered that Kriss Raikelli didn’t have a brother called Nic. He did, however, have a brother called Simon and the holopic confirmed that Simon Raikelli was indeed the man she knew as Nic White.

 

Questions abounded. Why was Simon using an alias? Who was the real Nic White? And why was his brother so determined to extract revenge on him for something that her research indicated was not his fault? All these questions, and none of them would ever be answered. Well, at least not by Nic anyway.

 

“Dead men tell no tales,” Beryl whispered softly to herself.

 

Her download finished, and her job done, Beryl headed out to the dining hall for the evening meal with her cadet squad, and then to her dorm room.

 

“Lights out!” the dorm guard called out over the com.

 

Laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, Beryl let out a tired sigh. Finally, she had a moment to meditate and think about her plans for tomorrow.

[Rogue Nine]

“Getting all sentimental, Doc?”

 

Conn swiveled his chair around to see Max standing in the cockpit entranceway, two steaming mugs of caf in her hands. “I’m part Zeltron, Max,” he said, shrugging as she moved to sit in the co-pilot’s seat next to him. “Being emotional is part of who I am.”

 

“Right, which is why so many hearts are bleeding over you and you just bleed over one,” the slight Lorrdian retorted lightly, handing Conn a mug.

 

He snorted. “Hearts bleeding over me?”

 

Max chuckled. “You know, for a doctor, you’re not very smart sometimes.”

 

“I get that a lot.”

 

“I’ll bet.” Max took a small sip from her mug, then placed it on the console. “If you haven’t noticed, every time we make port, you get all these looks from women, left and right.”

 

Conn arched an eyebrow. “I do?”

 

She nodded. “You do. I think it’s those bloody pheromones of yours, in my completely uneducated opinion.” She pointed a finger at him. “You’re so wrapped up in trying to find Beryl that you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve, not realizing that you’re just running on raw feeling.”

 

Conn was about to refute what Max had said when he stopped short. Is she right?, he thought to himself. Ever since they’d escaped from the Imperial facility, it had been Conn’s driving purpose to locate Beryl and rescue her from her brother. He’d spared no expense in his quest, pushing himself to his limits. He looked at Max, who had a wry, knowing grin on her face. “So what if I am?” he finally bit out.

 

Max propped her elbows up on the armrest and interlaced her fingers in front of her face. “Well, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to be bleeding your emotions all over the place,” she said. “Especially since your current crew is seventy-five percent female, more if you count the ship.”

 

Conn kept silent as he processed Max’s statement. It was true, as the crew he ran with consisted of himself, Max and a pair of female Firrerreoan twins named Raylena and Raylana whom Max had previously worked with. She had contacted them following the escape from the Imperial facility to help crew the ship that she’d acquired, a heavily-modified YT-1760 light freighter, dubbed the Hammerspace. Conn had asked her how she’d come about procuring a ship so quickly, but Max had rebuffed him with a snippy, “None of your damn business, Conn.”

 

He looked at her after pondering what she said. “Are Lena and Lana affected by me?” he asked. “Are you?”

 

Max laughed. “Like I’ve told you before, Conn, you’re just not my type, no matter how many pheromones you throw at me.” She shifted in her seat. “The twins, I’m pretty sure, are somewhat affected, but they’ve been able to keep it in check so far. I do suspect that’s why they’ve been so eager to help you, though.”

 

Conn scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t realize I’ve been so careless with my feelings, I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh, no worries,” Max replied, raising her hands. “Lena and Lana are big girls and can take care of themselves, though it would do all of us a world of good if you’d just turn the melancholy down a bit.”

 

He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

 

“And one more thing, Conn,” Max continued, stretching her arms above her head. “Why are you so hell-bent on finding Beryl?” she asked, finally getting the thoughts she’d been having out into the open.

 

Conn rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s complicated,” he said. “Aside from the obvious concern I have for her well-being, there’s also the fact that I want to let her know that I’m not dead.”

 

Max arched an eyebrow. “Well yeah, I’m sure she’d figure that…”

 

“Not quite,” Conn countered, shaking his head. “Beryl’s never been very good with keeping those she loves alive. Back when I met her at Incom, she had two fiancés of hers die within months of each other. She blamed herself for it. I just happened to be there for her.”

 

“But then it became more.”

 

Conn nodded. “We started seeing each other, but Beryl always kept her distance. I just thought it was because she was still hurting, but now I know it was because she was afraid she’d end up getting me killed as well. When she finally did break it off, I was really confused, as we had just started to get serious.” He smiled ruefully. “It was her way of keeping me alive.”

 

“Ah, so that’s why you want to find her,” Max said, putting two and two together. “Since you two got ‘reacquainted’, she probably thinks you’re dead now, given everything that’s happened since.”

 

“It’s crazy, but now that I’m free from the Imps, partly thanks to her, I have a new lease on life. I don’t want her to lose hers because she gave me mine back.”

 

Max shook her head at him. “You are just a big softie,” she quipped, punching him lightly on the arm.

 

“Yeah, well,” Conn demurred, then cocked his head at her. “What stake do you have in getting her back though, Max? Why are you doing all this to help me?”

 

“Because I like to repay my debts,” she replied. “You and Beryl and her friends helped me get away from that rock and make off with quite a bit of money. A different person might’ve just taken the credits and run, but we Lorrdians do have a sense of propriety. You’ve gotten your share, Beryl and her friends need to get theirs. Especially that Jeez fellow. Terrible thing that happened to him, losing his wife.”

 

“Yeah,” Conn agreed, thinking back to that horrible scene in the hangar bay.

 

“And besides,” Max continued, a fiery look in her grey eyes. “I can’t let the Imps do to Beryl what they tried to do to me.”

[Writer]

Jana shook her head. "No," she answered, "I haven't told Reibe. I wanted a different second opinion for a change." Her expression hardened; she wasn't trying to keep it secret how annoyed she was at Reibe at the moment.

[stingerhs]

"Well, I don't know how she would respond. After all, I'm merely that Jedi to her, and as such, I think we've shared all of two words since I came aboard. I can tell you this, however, her only concern is you. Whatever happens to the crew, well, tough luck. To her, you're the only thing that matters," Jeez commented.

 

Thinking for a second, he then added, "For some reason, I've sensed that she brought *you* here for a reason. I highly doubt that she would approve of you leaving so soon after we've arrived, especially for whom she would no doubt consider another worthless crewmate."

 

Pausing for a moment, Jeez breathed in deep for a moment, and then he finally said, "Look, I shouldn't speak so much of my distrust, but there is something I would like to know: why is she even here? By coming to me first, its fairly obvious that you don't completely trust her either. On a ship like this, I can imagine that trust would be more valuable a commodity than even the rarest of gems."

[Rogue Nine]

((Posted for JasraLantill by proxy, since the forums farted earlier today ))

 

As Beryl laid in her bed, she recalled the conversation she had had earlier with Flight Evaluator Captain Aiken in the dining hall.

 

“So, any plans for tomorrow, sir?” Beryl sweetly asked Captain Aiken as he sat beside her in the dining hall.

 

Aiken’s gaze rose to meet hers. “Actually, I do.”

 

Beryl’s heart skipped a beat. If he had other plans, then she would have to change her escape plan. “Oh?”

 

Aiken’s dark brown eyes sparkled as a slow grin appeared on his mouth. “I’ve got a date for a tandem flight in one of the new TIEsr’s with a beautiful, blonde, flight-instructing Lieutenant.” He winked. “Unless, she’s changed her mind?”

 

A feeling of relief washed over her. “I’m not a Lieutenant yet, sir, just an officer cadet.”

 

Aiken breathed a dismissive snort. “Details, details. You’ll be one soon enough.” He lifted his napkin and dabbed the corner of his mouth. “Which reminds me….” He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a security code cylinder. “You’ll need this to get into the hanger tomorrow.”

 

Beryl gave him a confused look as he handed it to her. She had arranged to meet him outside the dormitory complex at 1100 so he could escort her through the security checkpoints to the hanger bays. She hadn’t expected that he would just let her go there on her own.

 

“I’ll meet you at Hanger 11-A at 1300,” he continued. “I’ve got some things to take care of first.” Seeing she still looked confused, he added, “Personal things.”

 

“Oh.” He had said ‘personal’ but Beryl knew he meant ‘family’. He had told her he was married, and that his wife and family lived in the city. She wasn’t sure how dedicated he was to them, but he certainly didn’t seem too bothered by having an affair with her. She had targeted him because out of all the people authorised to use the hanger bays, only he, as the Academy’s Senior Flight Evaluator, and the Academy’s Commander seemed to have all-hours access to the landing pads and hangers. He, being the ambitious type, had readily accepted her advances, most likely because she was an Admiral’s sister and thought it an easy way to get noticed for promotion.

 

“Don’t worry.” Aiken smiled reassuringly as he reached over to clasp his hand over hers. “We’ll still have plenty of time for our little ‘training session.’ I’ve booked out the SR until 1800 hours.” He grinned. “And, I’ve got a surprise lined up for you.”

 

“Really?” Beryl’s expression was enthusiastic, but what she was thinking was, “The code cylinder thing was enough of a surprise, you adulterous nerfherder. The very last thing I need is now is another one.” But what she actually said was, “Oh, I love surprises! What is it?”

 

Aiken wagged a finger at her. “Now, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

 

Beryl took a deep breath. “Well, she thought, I’ve got a surprise lined up for you, too, Captain.

 

“A tandem flight,” Beryl said softly in the dark to herself. “Why did he have to decide on a tandem flight?” She found that talking out loud to herself sometimes helped her to think more clearly. And she needed to be clear and logical right now.

 

She had been weighing the pros and cons about whether it was best to just steal a ship on her own (since she now had a security code cylinder that would let her into the hangers), or whether she should proceed with the ‘let’s do a tandem training session’ thing.

 

“With him: he’ll have security and flight clearance so taking the SR out above atmo and past the training boundaries will be easy. Another pro. Without Aiken: I would probably get into a battle situation and with only one laser cannon on the SR, that’s definitely a con.

 

“With him: He might balk at inputting the co-ordinates to meet up with Jana into the navicomputer. Con. On my own: I could do it myself. Pro, that is, if I made it that far to start with.”

 

She let out a slow deliberate breath. “Of course, the biggest con for if I go with him is that I’ll have to kill him. I can’t risk the possibility of him contacting the Imps and telling them where I’ve gone. Especially if Jana got my letter. I don’t want to risk putting her, or Cloud, or Jack in any more danger because I wasn’t strong enough to take care of my loose ends.”

 

She lay there for a moment, weighing her options, and finally decided that the most logical choice was to go up with the Captain, let him get her as far away from Carida as she could, and then… “Kill him. That’s the only way I’m going to get out alive.” She reached under her pillow and retrieved the code cylinder she had put her library data on. This afternoon, she had figured out one of the Empires plots—and it scared her. “And the only way to save hundreds.”

 

“The ends do not justify the means,” Ryshana’s voice said clearly.

 

Beryl froze. Ryshana was dead. She had seen her die. But that was definitely her master’s voice. “Oh no. I must be going crazy.”

 

“If saving hundreds costs you your morality, then what else of your person would then be suspect?” Ryshana’s voice said again.

 

"I’ve killed Imps before. All those TIEs, the guards….” Beryl suddenly saw a light blue glow begin to appear across the small room. “Why would killing one more matter?”

 

“It matters because next time you might have to kill more innocents to accomplish your goals.” The blue glow began to solidify, finally taking shape in the form of Ryshana. “It’s a never ending spiral.”

 

“Ryshana?” Beryl sat herself up, then blinked. “But you’re….”

 

“Do you recall what I told you about the Force?”

 

Beryl nodded. “It surrounds us, penetrates us, binds the Galaxy together.” She found herself starting to smile, something she hadn’t done in a very long time. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

 

Ryshana nodded demurely. “You cannot kill this man, Beryl. He’s an innocent.”

 

“He’s a Captain in the Imperial Navy,” said Beryl. “He’s hardly innocent.”

 

“Indeed? And when did you become the judge, jury, and executioner? It’s not your place to decide the fates of others based on their crimes.”

 

"I've already decided the fates of others. Garajaminder, or whatever her name really was? Her death is my fault. Nuss made me chose her from the line-up to pay for my crimes, and she was innocent. Cadet Penwith? Decided his fate, too. I could have told the Commander that the ‘The Grid’ was too harsh for him. But I didn’t. Even Nic. If I hadn't shot him in the leg, he might have escaped that bomb. What's one more death going to matter?”

 

“Just one more death? Who's to say that it will only be one more? You must understand the weight of your own actions. Beryl. If it doesn't stop here, then where will it end?”

 

“You want me to risk, possibly even sacrifice my own life to save an Imperial captain whom I despise and hate? No way. He changed the plan, he deserves what he gets.”

 

“Only in your mind. Few men deserve death, especially for something as trivial as changing the plan. And why do you hate him, I wonder? Did he make you angry at some point to warrant hatred? If so, then you have lost control over yourself. No Jedi is governed by anger or hatred, and that same anger and hatred has clouded your judgement.”

 

“Maybe those drug cocktails they’ve been giving me are clouding my judgement. Or maybe I never really had any control to begin with. After all, that was Jeez’s biggest complaint about me, wasn’t it? No control. Too emotional. Acts with her heart not her head. Jumps in head first. Needs discipline. There was always something.”

 

“And perhaps now as you sit there pondering your dark thoughts you can understand why he said what he did.”

 

“Dark thoughts? No. Logical thoughts. Unemotional, logical thoughts. The pros outweigh the cons, therefore my course of action is clear. I have to kill him. There’s too much at risk.”

 

“You’re travelling down a path of Darkness. The Darkside has many short term gains, but it will consume you and cost you everything you have fought so hard for all these years. If killing your own friends were the most logical choice, would you kill them, too?”

 

“That’s different. He’s is not my friend.”

 

“No, it’s only different in your mind. All life is sacred, even those that seem to deserve death. Perception is a fragile thing. Be careful about those that you pronounce a death sentence over. Your judgement and reasoning is only one side of the equation. He has family, friends, and allies. Are they not affected by your death sentence?”

 

“Sure they are. But, we all have to die sometime. How do I know that the Force isn’t guiding me to kill him this way, to save him horrible pain and suffering? Maybe he would die tomorrow or the next day anyway? Burned up in a crash, or electrocuted while checking a circuit?”

 

“Jeez watched your own brother kill me dishonourably, but yet he did not kill him even though it was well within his power. If Jeez did kill your brother, how would that then affect you?”

 

Beryl’s expression hardened. “I wish he had killed him. I tried. I couldn't do it. I couldn’t do it because I was too emotional. Undisciplined. Illogical. Weak,” she concluded. “I won't be weak next time though. And I won't be weak tomorrow.”

 

The ghostly figure of Ryshana shook her head. “As you wish, then. But before I leave you to dwell in your darkness, know this: from this point forward your life will be one justifiable death after another. Eventually, even the ones that you say you love will be just as expendable as this Captain. When that day comes, you will look back at this moment and despair.” And with that said, Ryshana’s figure faded away and vanished.

 

“I don’t have to look back,” Beryl said softly into the darkness. “I’m already in despair…” She sank back down on her bed. “But, there are no other options.”

[JasraLantill]

((Thanks, Niner. And since you posted last, I'll post something for Cloud and Sam now, just to keep them 'active' in the story....))

 

Cloud was in his room, pacing the floor as he thought about what Jeez had said to him in the lift. Why had Reibe brought them here if it wasn't to hide out from the Imperials? And what were her plans for Jana? And for them?

 

He sat down on the bed and tried to center himself. Jeez had been a very good mentor so far. Cloud liked his style of teaching better than he had Ryshana's--it seemed more straightforward, making the concepts of the Force easier for him to understand. Not that he hadn't admired, loved, and respected Ryshana, and not that he didn't sorely miss her now that she was gone, but he connected better with Jeez.

 

Concentrating on the Force and sensing his surroundings like Jeez had taught him, Cloud could sense the Jedi's presence just down the corridor along with one other--Jana, he decided. And Reibe wasn't with her this time. That was good, in Cloud's opinion. Jeez was not only technically and tactically saavy, but had a great deal of practical experience and common sense, and with Nic gone, Jana would do well to consult with him every now and...

 

Then there was a knock on the door.

 

Cloud frowned with confusion. He hadn't sensed any other presences nearby, until just right now as he got up to answer the door.

 

He opened it and saw Sam standing before him. "Sorry," she said to him as she invited herself in. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you."

 

"Sneak up on me?"

 

"Yeah," Sam said casually. Without any further explanation, she sat down on the room's single chair and put her feet up on the desk. "I wanted to know if you'd go shopping with me."

 

"Shopping?" Cloud blinked a few times.

 

"Yeah, shopping. I'd like to go browsing around for some stuff, since there's really nothing else to do."

 

"Shouldn't you be asking Jana, or even Reibe to go with you?"

 

Sam stared at him deadpan. "Why? Do I need their permission?"

 

"No, because..." Cloud shifted uncomfortably. "Because they're girls."

 

Sam's forehead began to show her confusion. "What's being a girl have to do with shopping for parts and supplies?"

 

"Parts and supplies?" He sighed. "Oh. I thought you were going shopping for like... you know, girl stuff. Like clothes or something."

 

Sam looked down at herself. She was dressed in a tank top and combat fatigue trousers and heavy black boots--quite similar to what Beryl normally wore. "Hmm. Maybe, I should get some clothes of my own...."

 

Again, Cloud blinked. "Clothes of your own?"

 

"You know, I'm going to be brutally honest here. It's really irritating when you repeat everything I say. But, yeah. Clothes of my own." She grinned. "I borrowed these from Beryl's footlocker. Nice fit though, don't you think?"

 

"Borrowed from...?" Cloud rolled his eyes, thinking that it was probably better if he just dropped the clothes subject altogether. "So, parts and supplies," he said. "What kind of parts and supplies?"

 

"Well... that's where I needed your opinion on things," she said. "See, I wanted to fix that Flight Sim thing in the hanger, so I need some parts for that. And, I also wanted to see if I could find some repair putty, and maybe a couple of dets with built-in delay circuits to make a trap to use on Jack, and a few extra spices, and maybe some med supplies. We're completely out of sedexidrox," she added by the by. "Oh! And I wanted to rig up an automated food processor for the galley. I'm getting tired of chopping up things by hand all the time, you know? It would make things a lot easier if...." Cloud was giving her an odd sort of look. "What?"

 

The engineer began to roll his hand in a rewinding motion. "Erm...can you go back a bit?"

 

"Food processor?"

 

"No, before that." Cloud motioned her back further.

 

"Sedexidrox?"

 

"Keep going."

 

"Spices?"

 

"Uh-uh." Cloud shook his head.

 

"Repair putty?"

 

"No, after that."

 

"Dets with built-in delay circuits to make a trap to use on Jack?"

 

Cloud held up his index finger and grinned broadly. "That's it!" Then his grin abruptly faded. "What trap for Jack?"

 

She shrugged. "Nothing lethal. Just wanted a sort of 'cawtchya' device for the next time he tries to infiltrate my room. Maybe some sort of exploding dye pack, or a stink bomb..." She frowned. "Although," she murmured, "that has a high propensity to backfire. Scratch the stink bomb for now."

 

"A cawtchya device?"

 

"Yeah, you know.... Something irritating that says, 'I caught 'ya doing something that you shouldn't be doing.'"

 

"Wait, why would Jack want to 'infiltrate' your room?" Cloud asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

 

Sam shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe for the same reason the Imps want to kill me?"

 

"Why do the Imps want to kill you?"

 

She grinned at him. "Dunno. But they have a reason. Imps don't do anything without a reason." She rose from her chair. "So... shopping? Yes or no?"

 

Cloud sighed. It was just no use arguing with her. "Yeah, ok," he said reluctantly. "Let's go."

 

The two of them headed out the door to go and explore Reibe's hidden underground city.

[Writer]

"So let's be clear on this," Reibe said, pacing impatiently behind the young man seated at the computer. "You've tried Imperial records, prisons, systems' census, former Republic databanks... hell, you say you even tried Jedi records. Nothing?"

 

"No 'Jeez' anywhere," Teser Quitaan confirmed. He sat back in his chair. Of all the things he'd expected when he discovered his fate was to crash into this strange planet, a dull as sin job was nearer to the end of his list. But he held on to hope... sooner or later, he'd get back out into space. Just a few more months of this and they'd trust him enough to be out gathering information... instead of filtering through it. Reibe paced some more.

 

"Go back to Jedi," she ordered, turning her hunt in a slightly new direction. "Search for sounds like Jeez."

 

Teser turned to look at the strange young-looking woman who had full clearance to whatever the hell she wanted to know. She stopped pacing long enough to stare into his eyes... which made him exceptionally uncomfortable, as they seemed out of place... like they should have belonged to someone else, someone older. So he returned to his searching.

 

"Searching Jedi... sounds like Jeez..." he murmured, his fingers running swiftly over the control surfaces of the intricate computer. "There's several... Je..."

 

"Scroll down," Reibe ordered, coming to look over his shoulder. He began scrolling. "Faster," Reibe insisted. And she kept insisting until the results of the search were flying past at a rate of speed Teser could not hope to read.

 

"STOP!" Reibe suddenly exclaimed. Teser jumped. The selection landed on a Jedi profile, one assembled by the Hunter Information Network, as the galactic database had massive holes in it these days.

 

"Yajisif Quiinzara," Reibe murmured. A smile spread across her face. "Of course! Jeez is a nickname. I take it back, Kiddo... he's not just that Jedi."

 

"Excuse me?" Teser wondered. Reibe chuckled.

 

"It's nothing," she answered.

 

"Can I ask you something?" the young man asked. Reibe chuckled.

 

"Tell me your name, kid," she ordered.

 

"Teser Quitaan." Reibe's grin widened.

 

"Ah, brother to Beryl Quitaan," she concluded. Teser's eyes shot open.

 

"You know Beryl?" he exclaimed.

 

"Know of her, is more like it," Reibe corrected. "Log out of your computer, kiddo. Got someone for you to meet."

 

Teser complied and followed Reibe out of the information library. Reibe allowed a small scanner at the door to take a reading on her eye and Teser's eyebrows shot up, for the little scanner confirmed her as Reibe Vailar, the original founder of the Hunter Information Network.

 

"You're..." he stammered. He'd heard a few stories of the strange woman who'd come to this planet around 600 years back and changed the way the tiny civilization operated. Reibe laughed softly.

 

"You keep your jaw on the floor, someone's bound to step on it," she told him. "Come on... I'll introduce you to a real legend... or someone who will become one."

 

She led him through the underground city to a bank of apartment buildings... and stopped at Jeez's door with an intrigued frown.

 

"Well that was unexpected," she murmured. "Though not unwelcome..."

 

She rapped solidly on the door with her left hand; a blow with her mechanical right hand and arm could have caused a dent in the door... something she didn't care to do.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

"You're right," Jana agreed. "Trust is a necessity and I don't know if I can trust someone who made herself a part of the crew. Advisor?" She sighed. "When has she given advice?"

 

She turned away from Jeez. "To be honest, I don't know what her purpose is in being with us. She says she wants to train me in the truths of the Force, but I'm sure you've noticed what my 'training' entails... she's training me in Force-aided combat mostly. It's as if she pictures me as an untrained warrior she has to train before I'm thrust headlong into a battle I never anticipated. With her training, she knows I'll come out the other side of whatever battle... but how will I be affected?"

 

There was a rather loud knock at the door and it startled Jana. "It's Reibe," she determined, turning back to Jeez. "But you felt her coming, didn't you? See? Reibe doesn't teach me that side of the Force..."

 

Turning to face the door with a worried expression, she wondered again, "What the hell is she training me for?"

[stingerhs]

"I'm not sure," Jeez answered honestly. "Conjecture is all I can offer, and from what you've described, my only conclusion is that she is training a soldier that has some knowledge of the Force. But, I wouldn't take that word for word. I sense that I'm still lacking in the specifics, and as such, I wouldn't take that literally."

 

Concentrating for a split second, Jeez tried to sense what he could through the Force. Looking up, he then said, "We can talk more of this at another time. As of right now, its rude to keep people waiting."

 

With a wave of his hand, Jeez used the Force to once again open the door to his room. He already knew that Reibe was on the other side of the door, but Jeez was somewhat curious as to whom the other person was. Jeez had sensed a slightly familiar presence, and when the door opened, Jeez could see why. One of Beryl's brothers, Jeez thought to himself as he noticed the resemblance almost instantly.

 

"So, exactly where do your interests lie this time? I sense that Jana isn't the only one that piques your interest right now," Jeez stated to Reibe as he folded his arms over his chest.

[Writer]

Reibe nodded curtly. "No, you're right," she confirmed. "Jana, this is Beryl's brother, Teser. Why don't you go show him the Echo."

 

It wasn't a suggestion and Jana knew it. Reibe wanted time alone with Jeez. She nodded and left the room with Teser, who was just beginning to get his tongue back from the surprise of seeing Jana Vincent in real life... as opposed to in holopics sent home by Beryl.

 

"You're Jana Vincent!" he exclaimed finally. "Which would happen to mean that the Echo is here... aw, man! Beryl's gone on and on in letters all about the crew and everything that you've all been through and..."

 

"Beryl isn't with us," Jana interrupted gently. That brought Teser up short.

 

"What?" he asked, startled. Jana sighed.

 

"It's a long story that begins with Jedi and ends with this," she waved the letter. "C'mon, I'll show you the ship and we'll talk about it."

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Once Jana and Teser had left and the door closed behind them, Reibe made a traditional Jedi bow of respect to Jeez. Surprisingly, though she'd performed the gesture many times before, this time it was not intended mockingly.

 

"I knew you looked familiar," she stated bluntly. "Though we never worked together, I'd have had to be living remote to have escaped the stories spread about you... you and Ryshana. Especially after Order 66 came into play."

 

She paused, frowning just a little and seeming to retrace her steps within her mind. "Yajisif Quiinzara. I take back all the times I called you 'that Jedi'... you're more than that. The kind of loyalty the two of you worked up in those clones, to override their genetic programming? That makes you worthy of great respect. I may go so far as to say it ought to generate loyalty amongst others as well... and you seem to have made a good start of that."

[stingerhs]

Jeez smiled for a moment, but it faded rapidly. "Me? Worthy of respect? Well, I somehow find that hard to believe. Much greater things have been accomplished before," Jeez commented on how he and Ryshana had turned the Commandos. Thinking back for a moment, Jeez remembered everything in great detail.

 

"Generating that kind of loyalty with them took three long and brutal years of combat, teamwork, and honesty. To be honest, their loyalty to Ryshana and myself was a bit of a surprise, but it was still somewhat expected," Jeez responded. ""Trust in no one but each other. Teamwork to achieve the impossible. Honesty above all else." That was the code we used amongst ourselves as Commandos."

 

Leaning forward and looking dead on into Reibe's eyes, Jeez then said, "Once I figured that out, my assignment to infiltrate the ranks of the Commandos was no longer an assignment. I was fighting and dying beside three men that I would come to call my own brothers. We fought with courage and honor as we achieved what had been called impossible by others.

 

My feelings about them, they had for me. To them, I was their brother just as much as they were mine." Leaning back, Jeez then emphasized those same three words yet again, "Trust, teamwork, and honesty. That's what overrode the genetic programming. It wasn't Ryshana, and it wasn't me. It was simply a matter that a brother couldn't take arms against one of his own."

[Writer]

Reibe laughed bitterly and turned to the false window, which was a photo-panel displaying the view from a window in the abandoned city high above. "Honesty," she murmured. "Trust."

 

With a weary sigh, she leaned heavily against the windowsill. "I don't have the time to express the first, nor to build the second."

 

She looked back to the door. "I know that my words don't make any sense now... but they don't have to. Jana doesn't have to trust me right now." Shaking her head, she moved to the door as if to leave and said, "And maybe no one should..."

 

With that, she keyed open the door and stepped out, turning back once to suggest, "Get some rest, Jeez. I think we all need it..."

[starmark2k]

The sun rose in the distance and Nic watched it from the second story window of the houses guest room. He had only just awoke and stood wearing nothing but a pair of shorts he had slept in, today he would break into the imperial academy he had escaped from a few days before.

 

He sighed, there was still no word on Beryl Quitaan despite all the efforts of Ni’s host in trying to find out more about her. Jessi’s clearance wasn’t high enough to find out data on the Academies recruits, considering how she herself was recruited it wasn’t too surprising the imperials still didn’t trust her.

 

The door to the guest room opened and Jessi walked into the room carrying a tray with food and a glass of water on it. Nic didn’t hear her enter and continued to look out the room ‘s window over towards where the Academy was. As his shirt was off Jessi could see the familiar tattoo of the NEG he had on his back, the Motto printed around it ‘Heroes Die, Legends Live forever’.

 

Jessi Smiled as she placed the Trey on the bedside table. “You know I should have known you weren’t dead.”

 

“Why’s that?” Nic asked as he looked around at the Women he knew on Naboo.

 

“It’s written on your Shoulder.” She stated as she approached the door.

 

“I’m not a legend.” Nic replied as he looked out of the window.

 

“You will be.” Jessi replied as she left the room.

[JasraLantill]

Beryl was amazed how easy it was to gain entry into the hanger bay area with the code cylinder Captain Aiken had given her. She just walked right through the security checkpoints--no questions, no hassle. She checked her chrono--1245. She was a few minutes early to meet Captain Aiken. Well, she thought, might as well check out the place, since I've got an all access backstage pass...

 

She headed into the nearest of the hangers. This was where they kept and maintained Lambda class shuttles and the like. Beryl noticed that one of the shuttles, the base Commander's by the signature seal on the main door, was being cleaned and restocked by a couple of deck hands. She stopped to watch.

 

"Hey, look at this," one of the deck hands said to another. "Corellian Brandy." He held up the bottle that he had pulled from a container that he was about to load onto the shuttle.

 

"Yup, nothing too good for our Commander," his co-worker replied sarcastically as he guided a cleaning droid down the shuttle's ramp. "Officers..." He snorted with envy. "They get Corellian brandy for their meetings and whatnots, while we just get the local swill."

 

"Yeah, if we're lucky and the commander's in a good mood," the first one commented. Quite suddenly, he noticed Beryl standing behind him. "Hey, cadet, what do you think you’re doing? This is a restricted area!"

 

Beryl looked down at the security code cylinder pinned to her chest and then back at the deck hand, the corner of her lip upturning into a slow sardonic grin. "Watching two enlisted men shirk their duties while they bash the character of their superior officers," she replied coolly. "I'm sure Captain Aiken will be quite impressed."

 

The deck hand straightened himself, then nudged his buddy. "C'mon, let's get this stuff loaded." And just when he thought he was out of Beryl's hearing range, he added, "Damn, officer cadets. They think they are such hot ...."

 

For no apparent reason, the deck hand slipped and fell, as if someone had pulled an invisible rug from under his feet. He got up quickly enough, looked around on the floor, shrugged, and then picked up the crate of liquor and walked inside the shuttle.

 

Beryl smirked, and then continued on her way.

 

It was in the next hanger bay that she ran into Captain Aiken--and his wife. She was pretty, with lustrous dark hair and wearing a plain, but fashionably elegant dress, and was holding a holopic recorder in her hands. Standing next to the Captain was a small boy, probably about 4 or 5 years old, and Mrs. Aiken was directing him to stand closer to his father so that she could take their picture.

 

Captain Aiken was smiling, but his smile faded a bit as soon as he noticed Beryl. Mrs. Aiken, paused, and then turned in the direction of her husband’s gaze. "Oh, is that your flight student, honey?"

 

Captain Aiken didn't answer her, but rather motioned for Beryl to come over. "Cadet Quitaan? Come over and meet my wife and son."

 

Beryl hesitated. What was he doing? She didn't want to meet his family! She didn't even want to know their names! This certainly wasn't in her game plan. And it certainly was going to make the task of killing him any easier. She nervously bit down on her lower lip, and then headed towards them.

 

"Cadet Quitaan," Aiken introduced, "this is my wife, Phaedra, and my son, Ession. Phaedra, Ession, this is Cadet Quitaan. She's training to be a pilot."

 

“Very nice to meet you,” Phaedra said, sporting a beauty contestant smile. “Dex has been giving us a tour of the new ships.”

 

Yeah, good ‘ol Dex Aiken—Imperial Captain and family man. Lovely.

 

“Ession’s been pestering me for days to let him see the inside of them,” Captain Aiken added, tousling the boy’s hair as he spoke. “Haven’t you son?”

 

"I'm going to be a pilot one day," little Ession chirped, his smile as wide and as friendly as his mother's. "Just like my dad."

 

Beryl forced herself to smile in return. "I'm sure you'll be a good one."

 

"Well, we shouldn't keep daddy from his work, Es," Phaedra said. "Come along now." As Phaedra turned to hold out a hand for her son to grasp, Beryl noticed something else about her.

 

Phaedra was pregnant.

 

Oh, this is great. Just great, Beryl thought. Can this situation get any worse? Does the Captain have any cute, fuzzy pets that he wants me to meet, too?

 

"Oh, wait! I didn't get a picture!" Phaedra exclaimed.

 

Oh, no. Please, woman, don’t do what I think you’re going to do….

 

Phaedra turned to Beryl and, smiling broadly, handed the small holopic recorder out to her. "Cadet Quitaan, would you mind taking a picture of all three of us? Here, in front of the new ship? It’ll be a nice addition to our family album."

 

Yup. It just got a whole lot worse.

 

"Sure, ma’am," Beryl said. As the family lined up in front of the boarding ramp of the new TIEsr, Beryl lined up their image on the screen. Father, son, expectant mother—all smiling and looking happy. It was very hard for Beryl to take the shot. “There you go, ma’am.” She handed the device back to Phaedra.

 

“Oh, it’s brilliant.” Phaedra beamed as she gazed lovingly at her husband and showed him the picture.

 

“Well, if you just wait right here, cadet, I’ll see my wife off.”

 

Beryl nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

She watched as the Captain escorted his family to a repulsorlift speeder parked just at the hanger’s open doors.

 

Phaedra kissed her husband gently on the lips. “Give daddy a kiss and wave goodbye,” she said, and Ession did as he was told. “See you later,” she said to her husband. “Roast nuna for dinner?”

 

“Sounds great,” the Captain replied. “See you at the normal time.” He waved as his family left, then turned and headed back towards Beryl.

 

“Well, that was… interesting, sir,” Beryl said. “Meeting your family.”

 

“Well, you were early.” He motioned to a door off to the side of the hanger. “So, shall we get you changed? You’ll need a flight suit.”

 

Beryl nodded. She was actually feeling rather eager to get back up into space again. She still wasn’t keen on having to kill the Captain though, especially since meeting his family. Keep focused on the task at hand, she thought as she followed the Captain to the pilots’ flight lounge room.

[Rogue Nine]

Conn awoke to the sound of blaring klaxons. This time, he wasn't at the controls of the Hammerspace, but in his own bunk. Throwing a shirt on, he exited his room and padded down the hallway towards Engineering. "What's going on?" he asked as he strode through the doorway.

 

Raylena 'Lena' Lasheen peered from around the hyperdrive motivator to look at Conn, her eyes covered by welding goggles and her blonde and auburn hair streaked with grease marks. She held a hydrospanner in her gloved hand and used it to beckon Conn over. "Oy, c'mere and help me reconnect these power couplings!" she said.

 

"Why are you fiddling with the hyperdrive?" Conn said as he made his way around to where Lena stood. Donning a pair of heavy gloves, he reached over and held the maintenance hatch open as Lena dogged the errant power couplings back into place. With a final twist, Lena pulled away and Conn let the hatch snap shut. The hyperdrive thrummed noisily, sending vibrations throughout Engineering, then quieted down as whatever modifications Lena made fell into place.

 

"Just doing some tinkering," Lena replied, removing her goggles. She was the resident engineer and enjoyed playing around with the ever-modifiable YT-1760 systems.

 

"Yes, but tinkering while we're still in hyperspace?" Conn admonished. "That's dangerous!"

 

Lena shrugged. "I wanted to wait until we'd dropped out, but she insisted we try it now." She pointed at a console behind Conn.

 

Conn looked over and saw a pair of booted legs beneath the console. "Lena?" he asked.

 

The person under the console extracted herself gingerly and came to a sitting position, revealing herself to be Lana, Lena's twin sister. "What?" she asked as the klaxons died out.

 

"Modifying the hyperdrive while in hyperspace?" Conn asked.

 

"Well, we're still here, aren't we?" Lana retorted, pulling herself up and dusting her flightsuit off. "Besides, I needed the hyperspace cone to test the effects on the cloaking device."

 

Conn stopped short. "Cloaking device?"

 

Lana nodded. "Yeah, picked it up on Brentaal when you and Max were off doing your thing."

 

"How? Those are illegal."

 

Lana put her hand on her hips and looked Conn straight in the eye. "Since when has that ever stopped anyone?"

 

Conn had to concede her point. "Fine, but how did you get it? It must've cost a fortune."

 

"Lana and I can be pretty persuasive when we want to be," Lena chimed in, coming to stand next to her sister.

 

"Right right," Conn said, waving dismissively. "What did Max say about this?"

 

Lana grinned. "She said 'go for it.'"

 

"Of course, you neglected to tell her that you'd be cavorting around the hyperdrive when we're in hyperspace."

 

"Of course." Lena's grin matched her twin's.

 

Conn shook his head. "Well, does it work? And why'd you have to do it in hyper transit?"

 

"Well, getting a cloak to work isn't all that hard," Lena said, matter of factly. "However, it usually needs to be deactivated when traveling at lightspeed. We wanted to find a way to make it work so that when we come out of hyperspace, the cloak is active." She shrugged. "Makes for easy concealment, no?"

 

He had to admit it was a handy idea. "So you've managed this?"

 

"We can't tell just yet, but we've launced a subspace probe ahead of us. Once we get to the Carida system, we'll drop out of lightspeed and the probe will be able to tell us whether or not it worked," Lana replied.

 

"I hope it does," Conn said sincerely. "But I hope in the future, you'll let me know before you try something this risky again."

 

The twins smiled at him. "Of course, Doctor."

 

Conn shook his head once more, then turned and left Engineering.

[starmark2k]

The doctor opened his door to the trauma unit in the medbay on the second floor of the Carida academy, it was empty due to the fact no training so no one could get injured. All the students and trainers were out in the city getting some leave from regular duty.

 

The doctor began to think of all the events that had happened in this very room a week ago when that prisoner had broken out of the window. He walked over to the window and peered out of it, a fist then swung round from the out side and smacked him in the face throwing him back.

 

Nic White then came jumping through the window and he held a blaster pistol up at the Doctor. “Hello again.”

 

“You!” The Doctor spat as he looked at the man who had knocked him out cold and then escaped from the academy.

_____________________________________________________________________

 

1 Week earlier

 

The observation room that hanged above the mock Swamp terrain training room was full of several officers including Colonel Tigh and Assessor Sendri. They were currently observing a rookie Commando unit doing a hunt and destroy exercise. So far the commandoes had neutralised all but one of the prisoners being used as live fire targets, Somehow the remaining prisoner had evaded capture.

 

Within the observation room a large screen could be seen showing a birds-eye-view of the training room, on it were 4 blue dots showing the commandoes locations and 1 red dot showing the prisoner. Four other screens showing the image captured by cameras in the Commandoes helmets were under the large screen and also showing the

Commandoes vital sign.

 

Another five minuets passed without the Commandoes managing to find the final prisoner, when suddenly the red dot disappeared from the screen.

 

“Sir we lost contact with the prisoners tracker.” One of the lieutenants informed.

 

“Send the commandoes the last known location and finish this then.” The Colonel ordered.

 

The lieutenant complied and sent the order to the commandoes, the screens showed the commandoes changing direction and moving to where the red dot was. The colonel watched the screen showing the first commando approach the area carefully, the commando could be seen looking around up and down when all of a sudden the camera shot upwards. The clones Vital Signs began to spike and drop rapidly as the camera shook up down left and right, until everything just stopped.

 

“Tell the rest of the Unit to be careful, Man down.” The Colonel ordered

 

The second commando also walked in to the area and the camera showed he was looking up at the first commando hanging from his neck by a rope. The commando took to small steps towards the hanging body when his head shapely turned to look at a noise coming from behind him. A small object could be seen flying to wards the commando and strike him in the neck, The vital signs all suddenly dropped down to zero.

 

The observation room was full of activity now as commands were being called for the remaining two commandoes to head for the extraction point. The two commandoes began to run for the door when all of a sudden when of the camera, vital signs indicator and tracking unit all just turned off. Two minutes after a blaster bolt could be seen splashing against the last commandoes face and falling down dead.

 

It didn’t take long for a whole platoon to enter the training room to find the prisoner and th dead Commandoes, but they weren’t all dead when they found the one who lost contact with the observation room they called in a stretcher and had him taken to the Trauma Center.

 

The doctor took off the commandoes helmet and was taken aback when instead of a Clone commando, it was the prisoner, Nic White.

_____________________________________________________

Now

 

“What are you doing here?” The Doctor asked.

 

“Distracting you.”

 

“Wha...” The doctor began before he was injected with a fast acting anaesthetic from behind.

[JasraLantill]

Dressed to fly, Captain Aiken and Beryl walked back into the hanger and towards one of the new TIEsr’s. Now that the Captain’s family was away, he was once again 100% Imperial officer.

 

“Remember your Ident number, Quitaan?”

 

“Yes, sir. TC-128-6, sir.”

 

“And mine?”

 

“TC-128-1, sir.”

 

“Good. From now on, you’ll use that number and only that number whenever you’re in a flight suit, unless you are transferred out of the Carida training squadron. No names, no ranks. Got it?”

 

“Understood, sir.”

 

Like all flight suits the black Imperial TIE flight suit was a tight fit, but still comfortable and with ease of movement, but the strangest thing about it to Beryl was the suit’s weight and the configuration of the helmet. The weight came from the extra com equipment and the portable life support system. The helmet had enhanced visual targeting systems inside it—polarizing lenses and a Holographic Vision Processors—but Beryl found them a bit awkward. She preferred the clear and open full face visors.

 

As if the Captain could read her mind he said, “Don’t worry, TC-128-6. You’re an experienced pilot. You’ll get used to the gear quick enough. On the ground it’s not very practical, but just wait until we’re up in the air.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“The helmet’s the same basic config as the Elite Stormtroopers wear, but with modifications for pressure, targeting, and nav systems.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“There won’t be any other traffic up there today, so you’ll have time to do some experimenting.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

They boarded the new TIE, and Beryl was allowed to take a look around before they took off. It was a larger than the simple single-pilot TIE fighter Beryl had flown when she and Jana had escaped the Rhea, and had decent sized cargo space, an enhanced communications array with Com-scan equipment, long range sensor array, and a Class-2 hyperdrive. This particular model had been adapted to seat two pilots, one for a trainee and one for an evaluator.

 

Beryl took one of the pilot’s seats, and the Captain sat down next to her. He showed her how to hook her suit into the ship’s systems and her helmet and visor seemed suddenly to come alive with displays and system readouts. To Beryl, it was almost like having eyes in the back of your head and the console always in front of her.

 

“See what I mean?” the Captain said, as he powered up the ship. “You don’t need your peripheral vision. You let the ship see for you.”

 

I think I prefer to use my own eyes with a smattering of the Force to see, thank you very much, but … “Yes, sir.”

 

“I’ll take her up. You can bring her home.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Home. Beryl could hardly wait to get ‘home.’

 

The deck hands guided the magnetic rack holding the ship out of the hanger and onto the landing pad outside. That done, the Captain started the engines and took off.

 

It didn’t take them long to clear the atmosphere and soon they were in orbit.

 

“TC-128, Carida Control,” the flight controller said over the com system. “Be advised that the planetary sensors will be off-line for maintenance until 1700. Notify Carida control prior to your approach for manual landing instructions.”

 

The Captain nodded for Beryl to reply. “Carida Control, TC-128-6 copy that. Notify prior to hands-on landing. Over.”

 

“TC-128, Carida Control. Have a nice flight. Carida Control, out.”

 

“TC-128-1, out,” said Captain Aiken. “Alright, you take the stick," he said to Beryl. "Let’s see what you can do.”