Shore Leave

by Rob "Biggs" Baden

(This story takes place before the events of The Darkest Star.)

Steve Michadick looked out of the view port as he sipped his drinking, watching the white strands of light pass by him as the Regis flew through hyperspace. There were very few moments in which he really enjoyed being a part of this war, and this spectacular view was among the top of them. There was always so much beauty out in space that sometimes he had a hard time dealing with all the death that his job required of him.

Steve turned and saw Jeni Courtner, his wingmate and friend, standing there with a mug of caf in her hands. "Yes, it is." He turned back to the view port as the Regis lurched back into normal space. Dozens of large orbital construction platforms, as well as a few space station repair yards, filled the darkness of the void. Several starships of various types were either berthed, being constructed, or maintaining an orbit around the massive water world that gave the system its name. "And this is such a beautiful planet, so full of life, yet not in the most obvious of ways."

"The Mon Calamari and the Quarren have done an unbelievable job of preserving the environment of this planet; a lot of other worlds, such as Nal Hutta, have all been but destroyed by massive pollution and neglect." She turned her attention to one of the nearest construction docks and noticed a new Mon Calamari cruiser being worked on. "Hey, it's a new cruiser being built."

Steve turned to look in the direction she was discussing and frowned a bit. He pulled out his datapad and accessed the local system network, going through the various levels until he got to the construction queue. "The Morning Star, started construction the day after the Battle of Endor." He looked back out at the cruiser and whistled a bit. "It's not the standard MC-80 cruiser, this one is being built directly from scratch. All of the other MC-80s were modified from luxury liners."

Steve gave a small laugh and continued to look at the cruiser being built. "War," he said in a somber voice, "has one advantage; the advancement of technology in a very short period of time."

Rob Baden looked around at the organic features that made the station unique and grinned. He had always been an amateur fan of the organic and lifelike features of Mon Calamari construction and found them to be awe-inspiring to someone who had spent most of his life on Corellian starships and transports. He was, to say the least, overjoyed when the orders for the Regis to undergo a mandatory maintenance at the Mon Calamari shipyards came through. Not only that, but when the notification of shore leave came down from St.Clair, Rob was even more enthusiastic, something he was hardly known for.

It had been a while since he had any real rest, and he was glad that it was going to be on such a beautiful planet as Mon Calamari. The last time he had time to spend was before he had even joined the New Republic, and that was spent with Lela.

He sighed inwardly and his grin faded. It had been weeks since her death, and Rob had even gotten to the point where he didn't have remind himself that she was no longer with him, but he still felt the loss and knew that he would always feel it. It was going to be a part of his life forever, although the degree in which he felt it might change over time. However, that did not dispute the fact that he really missed having her in his life, and at times it was very difficult to try and even put up with the pilots of Red who tried so hard to get him to come out of his shell. Even Trixel, the bartender, had tried to get him to open up to Sazril Murshid. The problem was that Murshid was currently out on some hush-hush mission, and that even if he wasn't, Rob did not think he could really talk to him.

Rob, as well as everyone else in Red Squadron and several naval, army, and medical personnel, snapped to attention as Gideon Daly walked out in front of them. "As the Regis undergoes a ten-day standard repair and upgrade procedure, High Command has authorized a limited, but planet-site, leave for all personnel so long as it does not interfere with the repair operation." He looked around at the gathered group of personnel and gave a small grin. "We've been through a lot in the past few months since Endor, and the crew of this fine ship deserves some leave time; make sure you enjoy it, people, Force knows when we'll get another chance at it." He turned to face the front line and focused his eyes on Rob, who just happened to be standing in the middle of the line. "Check with your section commanders as to when you will have to work. Also, there will be a formal dance the night after tomorrow in the capital; we've all been invited, so if you want to attend make sure you get that dress uniform cleaned." There was quite a bit of groans over that, and then Daly snapped out, "Dismissed!"

Rob fell out of formation and started walking towards the docking bay doors. Behind him came Steve, rushing to catch up with him. "Hey, Rob, you going to go?"

Rob sighed and shook his head. "Now why would I even go to one of those things, Mr. Michadick? You know that I'm not very sociable."

Rob gave him a glare. "Thanks, I really needed to hear that." He turned back to the view in front of him as they walked through the docking bay doors and into the station's interior. "I'm just not the kind of person who wants to go to a dance, formal or otherwise, while my heart is not really in it. Plus, I really don't want to wear that uniform; it has the worst fashion I have ever seen."

Rob sipped at his ale as he looked through the view port at the oceanic world below. He turned and looked at Trixel with a small grin on his face before turning back to the view. "Because I don't think I can really go to one without losing all sense of who I am. I haven't been to a formal dance since, oh, it's been about a year." He turned to her again and gave a small smile in her direction. "Why are you so interested in me going to the dance?"

Trixel shrugged at him from the table and got up to join him at the view port. "I'm worried about you for the most part, Biggs. Everyday you come in here and sit down at this table; you're either by yourself, or with one of those three of your pilot buddies, but I never see you actually relax and enjoy yourself." She gave a sigh and looked out at the world below them. "This is such a wonderful place, and now you have the opportunity to let loose and enjoy yourself. You should really do that; who knows when you'll have another chance to in this war?"

He looked over at her again and saw just how caring she could be. From the start she had always tried to be his friend, and he had often pushed her away because he just wasn't ready to talk to people. It was, to say the least, very unusual that she kept after him to open up; no one else seemed to really care that much about what he was thinking. "You too, eh, Trixel? Mr. Michadick attempted to get me to agree to attend this morning during the Captain's speech. And Jeff even tried so earlier this evening. Is this some sort of conspiracy? I'm surprised Ms. Courtner hasn't tried this as well."

Rob sighed and set his drink down on the table behind him. He took a very long breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes as he thought about the situation. "During training-albeit a rushed job as it were-I was taught never to get yourself into a hopeless and unwinable situation. I have failed in that aspect as I keep getting bombarded by everyone around me." He looked up at her and gave a wane smile. "You win. I'll attend the dance. But I swear, if I find the person who designed that dress uniform while at the dance, I'm going to give him a good right handed punch."

Steve glanced beside him to Jeni and gave a small smile. She looked very stunning in her white dress with gray streams tying it in the back. He found she looked beautiful, and quite comfortable, in comparison to his own white and black dress uniform. "Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Angel. It was very nice of you to accept my invitation."

Jeni gave him a small, beautiful smile before turning her attention back to the band in front of them. "It's the least I could do for my wingmate, Schmitty. You're a really nice guy, and I didn't want you to come to the dance all alone." She looked around and then turned back to Steve again. "That reminds me, just where is Biggs? I thought you said he was going to be coming tonight."

"That's what he told me. He didn't say when he was making his appearance, and he didn't say if he'd becoming alone or not. That guy is one mystery that is just begging to be solved when it comes to these types of things." He looked around for him as well and was disappointed in not seeing him. He did, however, notice several of the other pilots and personnel from the Regis. Off in the distance to his right was Sean Healey dancing with Chelsey Maxfield; not too surprising given that they had been close friends for even longer than Steve was a part of the unit. To his left he saw Mark Hagues and Tessa Valis enjoying some light conversation with other New Republic personnel. And immediately in front of him, trying to impress his attendant, Kristy McCall, was Jeff Gerlach talking to the band members, obviously begging them to allow him to join in the playing. Steve has to snicker at that; Jeff had always wanted to be a musician, and Rob had often talked out times when the young man would attempt to play a new instrument and failed miserably at it.

He even noticed Lieutenant Commander Jemol enjoying the dance-although it was mostly due to the fact that he was on his homeworld-but he could not find Rob anywhere at all. "If he reneged on this, I'll make sure to use him as a torpedo next time I'm in my B-wing."

Steve turned around and saw Rob dressed in his uniform, which looked very neat and clean. On his arm was a woman dressed in a dark green evening gown, which was backless, and a gold sash that clung to her arms. There was a white flower on her dress and a smile on her face, her blue eyes complimenting her long, black hair. "Why do you look so surprised, Schmitty?"

Steve blinked and looked between Rob and Trixel, attempting to get some sort of answer out of the two. When the subtle approach didn't work he cleared his throat and looked at Rob directly. "Okay, spill it."

"What ever do you mean, Mr. Michadick?" It was truly amazing how well he was able to look serious about the whole thing while Trixel couldn't keep a grin off her face. "I'm here at the dance like I said I was going to be; that is what you wanted, wasn't it?"

Rob, keeping his straight face, just leaned in and said, "why shouldn't I bring a stunningly beautiful woman as my attendant to the dance, Mr. Michadick?" He tipped his hand to his head in a gentlemanly show of leave and turned towards the dance floor with Trixel walking beside him.

Steve just looked after the pair as they left and turned back to Jeni. "Well, that was rather strange."

Jeni gave a smile and looked out into the crowd as Rob and Trixel made their way to the dance floor. "You don't think he has a thing for her, do you?"

"Who, Biggs?" He scoffed a bit and started walking towards the banquet table. "He's not able to really 'have a thing' for anyone at this time, Angel. He's still grieving, and his grieving is going to continue on for a long time if his current state of affairs is any indication." He sighed sadly and looked out at the dancing pairs. "No, Angel, he's not attracted to her, at least not at this moment. To him she's just a friend, and I'm sure she knows that."

Rob glanced over at Trixel and gave a wane smile in an attempt to fend of the impending feeling of doom inside him. She was looking out at the crowd of people on the dance floor, so many Starfighter Command uniforms, as well as a few Naval and Army, were out enjoying the evening. There was a slight feeling of awe coming from her. "Credit chit for your thoughts, Trixel."

She looked over at him with a smile and a slight blush. "It's nothing, really. I'm just finding the beauty in this situation."

She pointed out at the various couples on the dance floor and then up at the five band members up on the stage. "Look at all of this, Biggs. The people in this room have been fighting a war for almost five years and they've only recently seen a decisive victory in their favor. Such a continual conflict wears a person down and makes them look and feel a lot older than they really are. For example, your appearance."

Rob blinked for a moment before responding to her. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, take a look at it this way; since the death of Lela you've had this look of anger and aggression on your face, as well as a deep sadness and pain. You've had to deal with things that you are not used to, and thus are worn down by the experiences." She gave another smile and patted his hand. "It's not meant as an insult, Biggs, really. I'm just able to tell that you're really struggling with things and that it's making you feel tired and unable to do your work." She looked out at the crowd again. "That's why there's so much beauty in this room; everyone here feels the same as you, just different experiences, that's all. We've all had our brush with death and pain and want to see the Empire go down for the people that they hurt; but now is the time for us to relax and enjoy what little freedom we have. 'Eat, drink, and be hearty, for tomorrow we get vaped,' is how the old saying goes. And it's certainly a true one in these types of situations."

Rob smiled at her and gave a small nod. "I understand what you mean now." He turned and noticed Steve coming towards them with a woman of unusual background on his arm. "Who's that with Steve? I've never seen her before."

"I don't know, but they're coming this way. I'm sure we're going to find out in a moment."

Steve stopped right in front of them and a grin was on his face. Rob couldn't exactly blame him as he gave his attendant a look. She had the unmistakeable magenta skin tone of a Zeltron, but her features seemed more human than the exotic beauty attributed to that species. (Not that she wasn't very attractive, but in a more familiar way.) The blue dress that she wore complimented the color of her eyes and the way that her black hair was put up made her look very dignified. Not only that, but the rank strap on her dress identified her as an Army captain.

"Second Lieutenant Rob Baden, Miss Trixel Narmi, let me introduce to you Captain Sooli Kitz of Intelligence." Steve gestured with his hand in the direction of her. "She's currently here pending reassignment, giving a helping hand to the command staff."

Rob bowed and took Sooli's hand in his, kissing it in a very traditional gentleman's fashion. At closer inspection he noticed something else on her rank insignia that he didn't see before; indeed, a small color mark near the top rank pip confirmed that she wasn't just part of the Army, but was under the command of Intelligence. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kitz."

She smiled at him and gave a small blush. "Thank you, Lieutenant, the pleasure is all mine, though."

Steve just gave a small grin and looked over at Sooli. "Well, Angel introduced us and then left, Force knows where; actually, I was a bit afraid to talk to her at first."

"The man who once vaped two R-41s off my tale is afraid of something; very interesting, Mr. Michadick," commented Rob as he grinned. The grin didn't last long as Trixel nudged him in the side with her elbow.

Rob rubbed his side and gave a wan smile. "Sorry." He turned to look at Sooli and asked, "So, how exactly did you get involved in Intelligence? Or is that too classified to talk about?" Trixel nudged him again, though a bit softer this time.

"Well, I had originally joined the Army and Intel caught sight of me on one of my missions and decided to see if I could work for them. They really thought I was a good source of Imperial information, given my background on Cardia, but I didn't know more than just the common things. So, they fast-tracked me into covert operations training and I was eventually promoted to Captain just before Endor. And," she said, shrugging her arms, "here I am."

"No," she said quickly," I don't think so. I've mostly been stationed on ground ops, I've never been assigned to a starship."

Rob turned to look at the band, noticing, once again, the face of the lead singer. He was sure that he had seen the person before, or at the very least knew of him, but he couldn't place it for some reason. When he turned back to Steve, Trixel, and Sooli, he caught sight of Sooli looking at him with a slight blush on her face. He pushed the obviousness of that out of his head and bowed to the group. "If you would all excuse me, I have to talk to someone for a few minutes." He left the group and walked over to the stage just as the lead singer said, "we'll be back in ten minutes after a short break."

Rob finally realized who he was and approached him with a serious face. "Mr. Vogel, just how much is the reward for you up to by now?"

The man turned around and gave him a glare before answering. "And how much would I get if I turned over your entire unit to the Empire?"

Both of them stood there for a while, glaring at each other until they broke into laughter and clasped each other's hand in a firm grip. "Mr. Vogel! It's very good to see you again, my friend, I expected to hear from you a bit sooner than this, and the only reason I am now is because it's your band that is playing. You were supposed to contact me two weeks ago with information on some movements in the Outer Rim; I thought for sure you disappeared when I didn't hear from you."

Vogel grinned and sat down on the stage for a moment. "We've been busy, Biggs. Starshot's been booked at various places all over the New Republic. I have to make my living somehow, you know; it's not like you're paying me much for information."

"That's because you haven't provided me with a lot of information yet!" Rob grinned and leaned against the wall of the stage. "As soon as you give me something solid I'll be sure to give you a good deal, but I don't have a lot of money so don't try to rob me, Richard."

Vogel turned around and saw the rest of his band coming back to the stage. "Don't worry, Biggs, I'll be nothing but considerate." He got up and climbed back onto the stage. "I'll be heading into the Core Worlds tomorrow, I should be there in a couple of days. There will no doubt be a lot of information available from that part of the galaxy."

"If you find any give me a call, you know the number. Oh, and do you think you could play a song for me?"

Vogel just looked at him with a deep glare. "You need better taste in music, Biggs."

"You never did tell me just how you met her. Are you going to tell me anytime soon?"

Steve grinned a little and looked up from the datafile he was skimming. "No." He went back to the file and snickered, knowing that Rob was looking over at him. "Angel introduced me to her, if that makes you feel any better."

"She's certainly someone," commented Rob as he turned his attention to the data terminal at his desk. Rob always seemed to spend his free time training, sitting by himself, or going through a series of data files to catch up on the latest events and technology. It seemed to be his only way of dealing with things, except for two hours a day when he worked out in the exercise room, but he always did it while no one else was around.

Steve shifted in his chair and looked over at the desk. "Every day you work out in the exercise room, but you always have the room itself locked off. Just what do you do in there?"

Rob was silent for a moment and then got up from the desk. He walked over to his bunk and pulled out a long box from underneath. He opened it and produced two curved swords that were roughly two and a forth feet in size. "These are Kadochi swords, ancient Alderaanian weapons from the golden age of the Galactic Republic, even before the Great Hyperspace War five thousand years ago. Back then, Alderaan was a very militaristic world, and the art of swordsmanship was a very principle part of it. It was called Akempo, and the Kadochi was a medium-sized sword that utilized both defense and offense in equal measure in this style of swordsmanship. It was one of their main weapons and considered to be a very rare item even before the destruction of Alderaan." He picked one of them up and tied the sheath to his waist. "They were a gift from Lela for my nineteenth birthday, and ever since then I have practiced them. After he death I continued to practice, but I did so in secret. Ship' security knows about it, but that was it; not even Jeff knows about it."

Steve got up from his chair and went over to Rob. He took the other sword and weighed it in his hand. "It's heavier than it looks," he commented under his breath. "And this is kept in superb condition, even with your practicing."

Rob started to say something else but then there was a beep at the door to their quarters. Rob immediately took the Kadochi swords and put them back under his bed while Steve cleared his throat and hit the com system. "Yes?"

Steve looked at Rob who gave him a rather quizzical expression from his bunk. After getting the "well, let her in" gesture from Rob, Steve turned back to the door and hit the controls. A moment later the door slid open and in walked Sooli with her hair up and dressed in a duty uniform. "Hey," she said looking at both of them, "I just wanted to stop by and see what was going on."

"Not a whole lot, Ms. Kitz," said Rob in response. "We were just going over some files, nothing really exciting."

"Oh, that's too bad." She turned to Steve and said with a smile, "Is there any chance the two of us could talk, Steve?"

He couldn't really say anything at first and then blinked his eyes when he got back to himself. "Oh, sure, of course we can." He turned to Rob who tossed him the keycode card for the door. "I'll be back later, Biggs." He turned to Sooli and headed out of the door, her footsteps sounding loudly behind his. The door slid shut and they were alone in the corridor, only the gentle hum of power interrupting the silence. "So," he said, a bit nervous than he thought he was going to be, "what exactly is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Sooli?" He started walking slowly down the corridor and Sooli fell into step beside him, her head down a bit as though she was contemplating something.

"I wanted to know just what Rob is like. You're his friend and roommate, you would know better than anyone else."

Steve felt his heart actually skip a beat when he heard her. She's here to visit Rob? Why the Sith does he always get the ladies? "Well," he started, uncertain of what to really say, "He's a very quiet person, mostly keeps to himself, although he does hang around with the other members of his flight, but that's really about it. He has some personal problems that I really can't talk about; I'd talk to him about them if I were you as he's appreciate you hearing it from him instead of from someone else." He still didn't know what else to say; here was a woman who was very beautiful, and very intelligent, whom he had started to find an interest in, and she was interested in his roommate. Does he have some woman-attractor attached to that jacket he always wears? No, I bet it's that sad wounded look he has.

"Oh, I see," she said. "Well, I guess I'll talk to him later, but for now, I still get to spend time with you." She offered him a warm smile and he felt all his worries melt away a bit. "So come on, give me a tour of the ship; I've never been on a frigate before."

Steve just smiled and gestured her towards the lift car. "Then I'll give you the five credit tour of the ship. Come this way, ma'am."

Rob sat in his usual seat, sipping his usual drink of Corellian Ale, with Steve beside him. "She came by this morning, while you were planetside, wanted to see if the two of us would want to come see a play this evening that some sort of theatre group is putting on. I didn't say yes because I wasn't sure if you would be able to attend." He sat his drink down on the table and propped his legs up in the next chair. "Personally, I don't plan on going, but I didn't want to tell her that until I knew your answer."

Rob turned to look at the viewport's image and saw a couple of B-wing fighters fly by on a standard patrol route in the distance. "I'm not one for social events, Mr. Michadick; I believe we have had this conversation on more than one occasion." His com-unit suddenly started beeping and Rob took it out of his pocket. "Baden."

"Lieutenant," came McCall's voice over the small speaker, "we're receiving a transmission for you. It's from a Richard Vogel, on Coruscant."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, I'll take it in The Mug's com-booth. Please transfer the call there." He pocketed the unit again and turned back to Steve. "It seems that I have someone I need to talk to, and I have to do some Akempo practicing tonight." He got up from the table and put his jacket on, the brand new crest designed by Chelsey on the left breast. "I'll see you later; have a good time at the play; after all, we'll be leaving port soon, you know." He walked over to the booth on the far end of the bar and closed the door behind him, barely hearing Steve's voice say "I didn't say I was going to go" just before it cut him off.

Rob sat down on the bench and punched in his identification code, his mind wondering about the whole "triangle" situation that was taking place. When Steve had first told him about what Sooli's intentions were, he was, to say the least, confused by it; why Sooli would be interested in him was a mystery, and the fact that his roommate was interested in her made things even stranger. And to top it all off, he wasn't even interested in her at all other than that of a friend, which made the whole situation worse than it could be. This made the last four days a rather unusual and interesting time, as it seemed that there was always the three of them together attending some sort of event either down on the planet or on the repair station.

After a few moments his code was accepted and the small booth filled with background noise and the sound of someone breathing. "Good day, Mr. Vogel," Rob greeted. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

There was a light laugh on the other end of the transmission "Well, I do believe I said I would be calling if I had any information that you could use. In my recent business, I noticed Sate Pestage's personal yacht leaving orbit and rendezvousing with a pirate ship belonging to Kavil's Corsairs. You'll find a recording of video and comm traffic on subchannel A."

Rob took a minute to download the attached file to his datapad. "Okay, I've got the transmission and I'll be sure to give it to Major Faulkner. Just what is going on, anyways?"

"Treason on part of Pestage, I'd say, and it looks like Isard is going after him."

Rob whistled. "You weren't kidding when you said you you'd give me something solid. I'll send five hundred credits to your usual account; it's the best I can do at this time, Richard."

"Don't worry, my friend, I know you're good for it. Good luck, and may the Force be with you."

The transmission clicked shut and Rob looked at the datapad. Normally he would never think about viewing data intended for someone else, but the very idea of Pestage performing treason against his own government was tempting. I can't, it's my duty to give it to Faulkner. He pulled out his link and clicked it on, hitting a sequence of keys. A moment later the voice of Faulkner came over the small speaker. "Major, I've got some information for you that I think you'd find very interesting."

Cracken hit the key on his hoto-projector and the form of Gord Faulkner disappeared. He turned to look at his aide, noting the look of concern on the other man's face. "What is it?"

"Sir, how can we be sure that this information is accurate? It could be planted, or pure rumor."

"Faulkner claims that Baden is reliable, and, in turn, Baden claims that Vogel is. I've heard of Vogel; he's a a smuggler and a rogue, but he has lots of sources in the Outer Rim and a knack for getting good intel." Cracken rubbed his chin a little and turned to look out the window. "But you're right; we should confirm this. The most likely destination along that vector would be Ciutric. Contact our agent there and tell him to verify Pestage's arrival."

Cracken looked out the window again and gave another sigh. The only reason Pestage would leave Coruscant is if it was truly vital... or if he no longer held it. And if he's not in control of the Empire now, who is?

"All personnel, prepare for departure. We are leaving dock; all hands be at your assigned locations immediately."

Rob looked up at the ceiling where the intercom system was located. "We already know we're leaving," he said, mostly to himself, "why does she have to tell us what we already know."

Trixel grinned and leaned forward on the table. "It's this thing called 'Pro-Ced-Ure.' It's a thing that is done by the military when they want to get something correct and not botch it up like some people I know."

"Cheap shot, Trixel, very cheap. Pilots never botch things up, we're there to make sure everything gets off without a hitch."

"Right. So I guess you never accidentally fired off a missile while in the hanger bay?"

Rob coughed. "Just get me another ale, please?" Trix got up to do so with a friendly smirk, mumbling "Corellian flyboy" under her breath.

"Hey, what's up," asked Steve as he sat down in the newly vacated seat. "I see you're annoying Trix again."

"Go eat ion exhaust, Steve." Rob laughed a little than looked over at his roommate. "So, did you see Sooli off?"

"Yes. She didn't want to leave; she seemed to enjoy being aboard a starship. Hopefully her next assignment will allow her to be on one. That reminds me, did you see the new cruiser that was being built over in Yard Nine?"

"I believe it was called the Morning Star or something of that sort. I wonder who will be assigned to that ship. I wouldn't mind being on it."

The intercom came to life again and the voice of Daly came across the speakers. "All hands, now hear this. The Regis and the Summer have been assigned to patrol the Ord Mantell System for the possibility of Imperial insurgence. We'll be entering hyperspace in a few minutes so please secure all items. I hope everyone had a good shore leave, and I'm sorry that we couldn't have more time, but that's the way the war goes."

Cracken looked over the report from his agents on Ciutric and sighed as he pushed the datapad away. Pestage had been killed, and by the very person who was sent there to bring him back to the Empire, Admiral Krennel. What's more, Krennel had taken command of Pestage's holdings and set himself up as a warlord. Where would we be without ambitious Imperial officers?

With Pestage now dead, the Empire's leadership had fallen to an interim tribune led by a General Carvin, another hard-nosed officer. Carvin was known to be a competent man, dedicated to the Emperor's New Order, but not particularly good at intrigue ... unlike the other remaining contender for the throne, Cracken's opposite number, whose skill matched her own ambition. It was only a matter of time before "Iceheart" wound up ruling the Empire in fact if not in name. Pulling strings from behind the scenes was what she did best.

"This just came up from Analysis, flagged for your immediate attention." He handed him a datapad and then stepped back to wait.

Cracken studied the datapad and then got out of his chair, grabbing his jacket. "Contact Admiral Ackbar immediately and inform him that we need to get to Sluis Van at once on the Independence."

Cracken moved for the door, his hands filled with a jacket in one and the datapad in the other. And so it begins.