Prologue

 

            Before the Empire, before even the Old Republic, as the galaxy was just stretching its arms out to fill the empty spaces between habited systems, about 20,000 years before the Battle of Yavin, strife and war tore through many systems.

            The people of one such system began to despair that the conflict that had devastated their planets for so many years would never end. They wanted to start fresh, far away from the arguments and prejudices that had divided them for so long. Escaping the armed forces in the conflict, several groups set out, into the Unknown, searching for a place to call home.

            They found it, deep in what were known as the Unknown Regions, even then. Parkpia, they called the system, and the primary planet took that name as well. In the old dialect of their home world, it mean, peace. Other groups colonized other planets in the system. Some of the old ways got lost. Space travel was lost for a period of two centuries, and in that time the planets began to develop individually. But what they retained was greater than that which had been lost. They retained their language, the Basic that had become standard throughout the galaxy, so that when they did make contact again, they could still communicate with each other, and the outside world, isolated as they were. Even as the known galaxy expanded, first to the Inner Rim, then the Mid Rim, and even the Outer Rim, the colonies remained beyond the reach of  “civilization”, but they remained in touch with it, as best they could. They retained cultural traits of their old home planets, art and history. And they learned their lessons, like tolerance. Some 800 years before the dawn of the Empire, a group of disaffected Twi’leks landed on Parkpia, and after some initial tension, they were fully assimilated into society. Unfortunately, contact with the outside world also brought undesirable elements, and by the time of the Republic, the system had fallen to the domination of a criminal empire.

            Even so, few had heard of Parkpia. No record exists that shows that the Republic even acknowledged their existence. No Jedi ever visited. A tiny “known” corner of the Unknown Regions, they may as well have been unknown. Part of their isolation was the difficulty in locating the system. Several hyperspace anomalies limited the number of routes into the area. As well, though the beings in the system were unaware of it, they were buttressed on two sides by a rapidly expanding alien race, an alien race that was more than content to let the colonists be, as their location prevented the race’s enemies from attacking from that direction, at least without first attacking the colonies, and giving the empire an advance warning. The colonists never saw the aliens, and did not know of their existence. The colonists never knew they were being watched carefully by the aliens, aliens who called themselves the Chiss…

 

            “Is everything going according to plan, Admiral?” the wizened old man’s voice grated like fingernails on transpirsteel to the blue skinned admiral.

            “It is as you wished it, my Lord,” he replied, feeling the coldness of the Imperial throne room, even here, thousands of light years away on board the bridge of the Admonitor. Some thought Thrawn stayed away from Coruscant because the Emperor didn’t like having an alien around. The truth was the feeling was mutual.

            “Excellent,” the brown hood lifted up for a moment and Thrawn saw the old man’s eyes, yellow and totally evil. I wouldn’t put up with this…thing…except that for some reason he’s managed to bring order out this total chaos. Thrawn looked up. He hadn’t been dismissed.

            “Was there something else, Admiral?” The Emperor asked with an edge in his voice. Thrawn had to remember to tread carefully.

            “Actually, my Lord, there was.” Thrawn began.

            “What is it?”

            “I wish to enquire about the disposition of one of my fellow officers.”

            “Oh? Have you identified someone else to add to your expedition?”

            “In a way, my Lord. I’m transmitting the data now.”

            In a moment, the Emperor looked down at his screen. He looked back up at Thrawn his eyes flashing. “Him?! You wish to work with this weakling? He is showing too much sentimentality for one of my officers. Don’t they understand that you must rule with a hard hand?” the Emperor waved a hand. “First the protest over Alderaan, which I almost understand. Tarkin overreacted, and might have been executed except the rebels saved me the trouble. But now this? Sympathy for Wookies? This man has no place in the Navy, I ought to just have him executed.”

            Thrawn waited for the Sith Lord to finish his tirade. “I would not recommend such a course, my Lord. The man has a great degree of tactical skill.”

            “He is weak.”

            “In certain areas, yes, my Lord. But you allow a man to ply his strengths. He has great tactical ability, but he does seem to have a certain…sentimentality.” Thrawn actually didn’t think the man’s traits were all that much of a disadvantage, but there was no arguing with the Emperor. “So you give him an assignment that allows him to use that strength.”

            “What do you mean, Admiral?”

            “There are certain assignments where it could be an advantage to have an officer grow close to both his subordinates and the people he serves in a region.”

            “You have something in mind.” The yellow eyes bored in on him.

            “Indeed, my Lord. I have a region that needs protecting. It is in the Unknown Regions, but it is one of the few areas that has contact with the rest of the galaxy. It is ripe for bringing into the Empire, but the assignment will require a man who is adept tactically, but will also carry out his orders to defend the region to the death. If this region is held, it will hold up my flank in the Regions. And with the number of unknowns out here, I need a competent commander to handle the assignment.”

            “And you think he is you man.”

            “Indeed.”

            “Where is this place?”

            “My Lord, have you ever heard of a planet named Parkpia?”

 

            “I’ve never heard of it.” The aide replied, sipping a light Corellian whiskey.

            “Well, we’re headed there. Coordinates are included.” The glass hit the table with much force. “Its in the Unknown Regions.” The man swore. “They might have just had executed me, instead of the whole crew.”

            “You don’t know that.”

            A snort. “We’ll see.”

            “Who knows? We’ll just have to make the best of it. Not a lot of oversight in the Unknown Regions.”

            A pause. “You’re right, but we’ll have to concentrate on surviving first.”

            “You’ll be fine.”

            “Easy for you to say.” The man keyed his comm. unit. “Navigation, new orders…”

 

Chapter 1

A year later

 

            The TIE fighter commander hesitated. There was another ground-based emplacement lurking out there somewhere, but the enemy had blasted all his reconnaissance assets, so he was maneuvering blind. He sighed and ordered his last remaining fighter into what he hoped was the gap between emplacements. The TIE fighter moved forward, and with a flash of laser fire dissolved into a ball of flame. The display went dark. 

            “And you’re finished,” Admiral Tom Davis declared to his aide, revealing his side of the Quadrant board to his opponent. “Again,” he sighed.

            “You think after all these years, I’d be getting better at this game,” Farl Kinkaid sighed.

            “You’d think.” The young admiral replied, getting up and stretching his legs. “Drink?”

            “The usual.” Farl acknowledged, and took the glass of Whyren’s Reserve from Davis as he poured a small one for each of them.

            “Cheers,” Davis offered humorlessly as he drained his glass. He stared out the large view port in his quarters.  It offered a commanding view of the forward dagger of the Pride of Carida, as well as the planet hanging in the stars below. Davis sighed again.

            “Something wrong Admiral?” Kinkaid broached the subject cautiously but forcefully. Having served with Davis for nearly 4 years now, he certainly knew something was wrong.

            “I don’t know Farl.” Davis sighed again. “I…I think I’m bored.”

            “Bored, Admiral?” the avuncular aide could barely suppress a chuckle. “You command an entire sector. Most people would be content commanding the 20,000 beings on a Star Destroyer and feel their time was occupied. You command an area including 5 planets and an armed service of nearly a million beings. And you’re telling me you’re bored?”

            “Maybe bored is the wrong word. Something’s missing.”

            The aide suppressed a grin. “Really?”

            The young Admiral sat down at his desk. He tapped the desk and his holographs sprang to life. He typed a few commands and soon found the one he was looking for. Farl frowned. The Admiral stared at the holo, for a few moments before looking up at his aide.

            “I wonder whatever became of her,” the Admiral sighed. The holo in question was of the Admiral at a very young age, with a girl he had known on Coruscant. Farl knew the story of how her father had been arrested for suspected Rebel ties, and she and her mother had been deported.

            “Thomas, I think…” the years of association allowing him the familiarity.

            “I know Farl, I know.” Davis sighed and killed the power to the projector. “I left Dal behind years ago. I just wish I could have found someone to share my life with. Share all this with.” Davis shook his head. “And now I can’t seem to get away from myself long enough to meet anyone.”

            Farl grimaced. The Admiral had been having trouble on that score lately. The worlds of this system had very active sludgenews concerns, and the Admiral’s youth made him a prime target of their activities. As well, every well-placed politician on the planet was parading an endless array of vapid drones, their daughters, past the Admiral, in hopes of advancing their families’ fortunes. Simply put, the Admiral hadn’t been able to just get away for a while and be himself.

            Davis sighed again, spinning in his desk chair to look down at the planet again. “I need to blow off some steam. Like in the old days, when I was TIE pilot. What do you think the chances of me being recognized if I put on a flight suit and sneak down with the regular shuttle?”

            Farl considered. “I’m not sure. I’m not entirely comfortable with you going without a security detail.”

            “I’ll go down with some of the Eagle Squadron pilots. They’ll keep an eye on me. I don’t need a baby sitter.”

            “If you insist, sir”

            “Contact Commander Jaeranea’na, tell him I want to see him.”

            “Aye aye sir.”

 

            A few standard time parts later, clad in a standard pilot’s casual coverall, and wearing a Flight Lieutenant’s rank badges, and carrying ID papers calling him Thomas Renn, a TIE pilot from Corellia, he joined several pilots from Eagle Squadron on the shuttle down to Parkpia’s main spaceport. The pilots he was with altered between looking uncomfortable and smirking at him.

            “Just relax,” he told one of the pilots. “We’re just a couple of guys out for a night on the town.”

            “Yes si…” Davis cut him off.

            “None of that, you out rank me now, sir.” He told the Lieutenant.

            “I’m not sure about this, Admiral,” Commander Jaeranea’na told him, his lekku twitching. “Something could go wrong.”

            “Nonsense, Commander,” Davis replied. “You folks just forget I’m here. Ignore me like you would ignore any other lowly Flight Lieutenant. I’ll just look inconspicuous, and hopefully throw some darts, drink some lomin ale, make eyes at a couple of professional companions, and then head home for the night. Forget for a while that I command this whole shebang.”

            “Aye, Aye sir.”

            “No, thank you, sir.” Jaeranea’na sighed. This was going to be a long night.

 

            The shuttle ramp dropped down and the five pilots made their way across to customs.

            “Purpose of visit to Parkpia?”

            “Just a night of shore leave.” one of them replied, handing over his ID. The Admiral remembered to follow suit. The customs officer looked at him carefully.

            “Do I know you?” he asked, feeding his ID into the reader. The ID had been carefully created by ISB and would show dozens of such shore leaves, and stretching all the way back to before the Pride arrived in the area.

            “I don’t think so,” Davis replied. “Unless I’ve been through this gate before.”

            “Hmm…I could have sworn you looked familiar.” The officer said, handing back the ID.

            “I get that a lot. Just one of those faces, you know?”

            “Right. Enjoy your stay, and please don’t break anything.”

           

            “That was close,” one of the pilots, breathed, well away from customs.

            “Too close,” the Admiral agreed. “Lets go somewhere more public were we can blend in.”

            “Riiiight…”

 

            Shelia Medra ran a brush through her hair while she had the opportunity. She hadn’t had a chance since her newphew had grabed at it and tangled it almost beyond repair. Right now, said nephew was enthralled by the petting zoo anminals, and not going anywhere. Shelia watched him from a shaded table nearby, and sipped on her fizzy drink.

            Shelia sighed. Her sister, Fiona, had begged her to take little Eugene for the day. School was out for a holiday, and Fiona had not been able to get out of work. Shelia was a school teacher and consequently, also had the day off. Shelia had been looking forward to a day of relaxation, and catching up on her grading, but sisterhood bonds came first, and she found herself taking care of Eugene. Including a trip to the local marketplace and amusement area. The place was packed with school children on holiday. Worse, the Pride of Carida was in orbit, and sailors and soldiers were in abundance. Eugene tottled back toward his aunt.

            “Auntie Sela!” Eugene was not yet capable of pronouncing her name correctly. “Up!” he demanded, holding out his arms. She lifted him up to her lap.

            “Did you like the skrella birds?” she asked her nephew.

            “Yum!” He had somehow come to use the word to display all types of positive acceptance.

            “What do you want to do now?” Just then a child walked by with a towering cone of whipped confection.

            “Me want!” Eugene pointed. Oh no…Shelia moaned internally.

            “What do you want?”

            “Dat!” He wriggled down from her lap, and began tottering off in the direction the child had come from with the candy.

            “Eugene Gradfi! You get back here this instant!”

            He giggled, sensing a game, and took off. Shelia groaned and started after him. He turned back, and giggled again, and then went around the corner. Shelia followed a step behind.

 

            “See, this is what I’ve been wanting.” Davis was telling his compatriots. “A chance to see real people again. Not the stuffed shirts that they keep setting me up with.” The pilots nodded. The marketplace was bustling with people. Someone had explained that it was a holiday on Parkpia. “You know, you guys don’t have to follow me everywhere…” Davis commented. “If there’s somewhere you’d rather be…”

            The pilots exchanged looks. Two of the younger pilots looked imploringly at Jaeranea’na, who glared at them and nodded imperceptibly. “No, we’re fine,” he said. Someone needs to keep an eye on him.

            “I don’t need a keeper. No one knows who I am,” he said, turning. “I’ll be perfectly…oaf!” As he started to turn the corner a pint sized projectile came running into his legs. The young boy bounced off and fell, and looked up at him. He’d barely started to cry when a woman came around the corner and nearly ran them all down.

 

            Shelia recoiled in surprise, almost tripping over Eugene, and knocking over the pilot in front of her. “I’m terribly sorry…”she began, but Eugene had started to bawl from his sudden meeting with the ground. The tall pilot he’d obviously run into squatted down to him.

            “Hey big guy, are you alright?” Davis spoke to the child softly, and his crying subsided into hiccupping. “C’mon now, you just fell down, you’re okay.” The boy blinked at him, unspeaking. “Want to see something neat?” he asked the child, pulling a holodisk from his pocket. He flicked it on, and an image of the Pride sprang out, filling the air. The boys eyes went wide, and he reached his hand through the edge of the image. “It’s a hologram, a kind of picture.” The boy found his voice. “Are you a pil’t?” he asked. The four men behind him suppressed chuckles, and he turned to glare at them. “Yes, I am a pilot.” he said, turning back to the boy. He looked up at the young woman. “I think your mommy is mad at you for running off.” The boy giggled and the woman blushed.

            “Not my mommy. Auntie Sela.”

            “Well, then, your Aunt looks mad for running off. Do you know why you shouldn’t run off?”

            “Why?” the boy was completely under his spell.

            “Because you might get picked up by a changling or a Wraith, and they would take you far away and sell you to a Hutt.” The boys eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

            “What’s a Hutt?” he asked. Davis laughed, and helped the boy up to his feet.

 

            Who WAS this man? Shelia asked herself. She watched the exchange dumbfounded. He was tall, with black hair. Taller than she expected for a pilot. How did he get that big frame into those TIE fighters? He looked older than she expected for a pilot. Compared to the others, he was old. The other four pilots were looking on with amused expressions, and at the same time, seemed to be sizing her up. Unconciously, she brushed her hair back. She felt Eugene grab onto her leg, “Up Auntie Sela.” He demanded quietly. She reached down and picked up him.

            “I’m sorry for the trouble,” she told the pilot who had been talking to Eugene.

            “Its nothing,” he replied, “No trouble at all.”

 

            Davis found himself lost in the woman’s deep brown eyes. They almost looked, well, like a liquid brown, they shimmered so. “I didn’t catch your name,” he asked. The woman held out her free hand. “Shelia Medra.” He took and instead of shaking it, raised it to his lips and kissed it. She looked pleasantly surprised. Somewhere behind him, one of the other pilots was making a gagging noise, and he ignored it. They were acting just as they were supposed to. “Thomas…” a swift kick in the shin from someone reminded him he needed to maintain his cover “Renn, but my friends call me Tom.” There was chuckling behind him.

 

            The little drama playing out behind them was confusing. She didn’t understand why the pilots behind Tom were acting so strange. She was so confused, she almost missed what happened next. “You clowns go along and have your fun. I’ll be alright.” Tom told them, glaring at them. The two youngest pilots grinned broadly, but the Twil’lek who appeared to out rank them looked consternated, and began to protest. Tom shot the Twil’lek a glare that would have melted transpersteel and the two youngest pilots grabbed the Twil’lek under each arm and dragged him away down the street. Nodding in satisfaction, Tom turned his attention back to her, and she felt his gaze sweep over her. “I’ve never really seen a lot of Parkpia. I don’t suppose you’d mind if I tagged along?” he asked.

            “No…no, its quite alright.” she replied. Just then her comlink pinged. It came from her purse, which she carried on the same arm as Eugene. She tried to reach it with one hand.

            “Here,” Tom said, and lifted Eugene onto his shoulder. The boy clapped in excitement about his new vantage point. Tom grinned. “Sit still” he ordered.

            Shelia sighed and reached her comlink. “Shelia here.”

            “Hey sister.”

            “Fiona!”

            “I slipped out of work early. Do you need me to come pick up Eugene?”

            “We’re at the petting zoo at the moment. I’ll drop him by in a little while.”

            “Fair enough. Thank you so much for watching him today. I really owe you one.”

            “Anytime sis.”

            Shelia terminated the call. “Eugene, that was Mommy. She’s home now, so we’re going to take you home.”

            “NO! Don’t wanna go.”

            She was about to answer when Tom said “Why not?’

            “Rather be here.” The boy answered. Tom swung the boy down off his shoulders and set him on the ground. He squatted down again and looked him in the eye. “Eugene, you’re a very lucky little boy. You have a mommy who loves you, and an auntie who loves you. You have a home to go back to. Do you know how sad it is when you can’t go home any more?”

            “You can’t go home anymore?”

            “No. I can’t. But you should feel really special that you have a home to go back to. So your Auntie is going to take you home, okay?”

            “Okay.”

            Tom lifted the boy back to his shoulders. “Point the way, ma’am. He said smiling at Shelia. His eyes, though, were unusually bright.

            “This way.” She replied, and pointed. They began walking.

            “So what’s Parkpia like?” he asked, a beat ahead of her questioning on his past.

            “Well, I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” she replied. “What do you know about it already.”

            “Well, I know all about its climate, and I’m pretty well versed on the defenses of the planet, and local politics. Tell me about the people, what’s it like to live here? What’s changed since the Empire arrived?”

            “Well, a lot has changed since the Empire showed up. Life is a lot more stable, more predictable and ordered.”

            “Yeah?” Tom’s eyes lit up and he grinned.

            “Yes. It’s a lot safter here now.”

            “Well, at least we’re doing something right.” His grin, she decided, would have lit up a darkened room, and his smile was infectious. She found herself grinning right back at him. He’s really quite handsome. Those eyes though, they’re strange. They’ve seen much more than their years. But I suppose that comes from being a fighter pilot.

 

            She really is quite beautiful. There’s an innocence in those eyes. I haven’t seen an innocence like that in so very long. A joy and zest for life.

            “What do you do?” he asked her.

            “I’m a school teacher. I teach secondary mathematics.” Tom grimaced.

            “Not my favorite subject.” He replied. “Why, if it weren’t for advanced astrogation, I would have…” he trailed off.

            “Would have what?”

            “Nevermind.” Damn you fool. Get her to talk about herself. You can’t afford to blow your cover yet. Davis felt very guilty about not telling her the truth, but knew if he did, that would be the end of it. He’d never have a chance to get to know her.

 

            What doesn’t he want to talk about? Strange.

 

            They made small talk until they arrived at Fiona’s house. Shelia took Eugene up to the door. Fiona answered.

            “MOMMY!” Eugene squealed and launched himself at his mother.

            “Thanks again sis.”

            “No problem.” She replied, turning back to where Tom was waiting at the curb.

            “Hey, who’s talk dark and handsome?” Fiona asked.

            “He’s a pilot I met today downtown. He was wonderful with Eugene. He seems like a really nice guy. He sort of invited himself to tag along.”

            “Oh yeah?” Fiona smirked. “A guy like that can invite himself along with me anytime.” She leered at him.

            “Fiona! You’re married!” she giggled.

            “Married, but not dead. You go girl!” She winked at her sister.

            “Oh you are hopeless!”

            “I’ll call you later…I want details” she said in a singsong voice.

            “It’s nothing like that!” she huffed.

            “Sure…see you later honey.” She winked again and shut the door. Shelia sighed and walked back to the curb.

            “I’m getting kind of hungry. Would you care to join me for some dinner?” Tom asked her.

            “Well, umm..sure, why not?”

            “Great!” he offered her his arm, and she took it shyly. “Which way to a good restaurant?”

           

 

            “And so there was my commanding officer, covered in jam, and I look at him and said, “Well, sir, its good to know you can find your way out of a sticky situation!’” Shelia laughed, “I was put on report for two weeks.” Davis had been telling a story from his early days where he’d tried to play a prank on his wingmate, but it had backfired when his CO had borrowed his wing’s TIE fighter.

            “That’s too funny.” There was a comfortable silence as they ate.

            “Tom,” Shelia began.

            “Yes?”

            “Tell me a little about yourself. You’ve listened to me half the evening, and I know precious little about you.”

            Tom seemed to hesitate, but sighed in acquiescence. “Its only fair I suppose. I just don’t like talking about my past. Its not something I remember very fondly. What would you like to know?”

            “Where are you from?”

            “I was born on Coruscant,” he began, and saw her eyes widen. “I suppose it was magnificent in its own way, but grew to hate it. The unnaturalness of it all. No real green space, the only trees were decorations, unless you could afford to go out to the Maranari Mountain range for a vacation. My mother was Corellian, and I visited there a few times. I like that much better. My parents divorced, I hated my dad, but I had to stay with him. He was a midlevel bureaucrat. Through his contacts and the parties he hosted, I met a few naval officers who told me of the wonders of space. I resolved to go to the Academy. I was lucky enough to go.”

            “The Acadamy? On Carida?”

            “Yes. I loved it there. It was the first time I felt accepted.”

            “I don’t have much experience with military academies…how did you decide to become a pilot? Or did they decide for you?”

            “Oh, no, I decided for myself. During your first year, you do all the same basic stuff as everyone else, but at the end of that year, you take some aptitude tests, and based on your scores, and your class rank, you choose a list of three specializations. Depending on the availability, you get into what you want. They always need more pilots, and I would have gotten in even if they didn’t, with my scores.”

            “They were good?”

            “They were perfect. I scored a 100% on the flight appititude test.” Tom flashed her a cocky grin. She’d heard of this as Corellian affection.

            “What else did you specialize in?”

            “Capital Starship command, and Intelligence. My senior thesis was actually on how best to blend starfighter tactics with fleet command tactics.”

            “Really? How interesting. How come you’re still flying fighters, then?”

            “I…” an insistent pinging started emitting from Davis’s comlink. “Excuse me,” he said, pulling it out. “Yes?” he answered.

            Farl’s voice came back. “Need you back here now. Code Red. Main spaceport in 10.”

            Shelia watched as Tom’s eyes widened and then narrowed.  “On my way. Out.” He closed the comlink.

            “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short, Shelia. It appears someone has their britches in a tangle. You understand, of course.”

            “Of course.”

            “I can walk you back as far as the spaceport, but I have a shuttle to catch.” He signaled to the waiter. “Check please,”

            “One moment.”

            “Why don’t you go get your coat, and I’ll meet you after I settle the check.”

            “Okay.” She stared toward the front and turned to see Tom speaking quietly with the waiter.

           

            Davis realized he didn’t have enough credits to cover the check, so he had to use a transfer card. Which required a heart to heart with the waiter.

            “You understand?”

            “Perfectly, Admiral.”

            “So you’ll keep this to yourself.”

            “Quite so.”

            “I appreciate your candor in this matter.”

            “A pleasure to do business with you Admiral.”

            A hefty tip had ensured the waiter’s silence in processing the charge, and Davis went to meet Shelia at the front of the restaurant. He offered her his arm, as they strolled back towards the spaceport.

            “I had a wonderful time today, Tom.”

            “I’m glad, Shelia. You really are a special lady.” The spaceport was in sight. “Do you think I could see you again?”

            “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

            “How will I reach you?”

            “Here,” Shelia reached into her purse and handed him a business card with her contact information on it. “Call me?” They were approaching the spaceport now. Shelia could see the white outlines of Stormtroopers waiting in the shadows. It almost seemed as they had started toward them, which was odd.

            “Count on it.”

             

           

            Idiots, Tom thought, sensing movement. He waved off the stormtroopers, and they backed off a little, fortunately.

            “Count on it.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. A hovercab passed by at that moment. He hailed it, and handed the driver whatever credits he had in his wallet. “Be sure this lovely lady gets home safely, will you my good sir?”

            “Sure thing, guv’nr” The cabbie replied.

            “Be safe,” he told her. She smiled at him as she slipped into the cab, a radiant smile that lit up the darkness.

            “You too.”

            “Thanks.” He tapped the side of the cab, and it puttered off into the night, and he turned back toward the spaceport, and acknowledged his storm trooper escort.

 

            Shelia watched as Tom turned to acknowledge the stormtroopers, which seemed odd. It just went into a folder with all the other odd things that had happened this evening. But she had had the most wonderful time. She picked her comlink out of her purse.

            “Fiona Gradfi.”

            “Hey sis.”

            “Sing it sister…”

           

 

            Davis acknowledged the stormtrooper. A voice pick up clicked. “Admiral, your shuttle is waiting.”

            “What is it, sergeant?”

            “Lieutenant Kinkaid is waiting for you on board, and he has everything you need.”

            “Very well.”

            Davis noted that the shuttle waiting for him was not the typical Lambda class shuttle, but rather an Assault Shuttle. The ramp was coming up before he was in the cabin. Farl was waiting for him.

            “Trouble?” Davis noted the look on his aide’s face.

            “Pirates struck the Halicorn starfighter plant a little over a standard time part. They also hit the palace. The Governor escaped injury, but we’ve increased security across the board. Hence the Assault Shuttle. We’ve been recalling all personnel on leave, and we should be ready to go within the time part.”

            “Good work.”

            “Your uniform is in the back, you can change and be ready to go.”

            “Excellent.”

            Farl followed him as he headed for the refresher to changed. “How was your evening?” Farl asked through the door as he changed.

            “I met this beautiful girl,” Davis called out. “She’s 28 years old. She’s wonderful, a teacher.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, and we had…”

 

            “…the most wonderful time.” Shelia finished. “He was such a gentleman.”

            “How old is he?”

            “30.”

            “Ooooh, an older man. And at the end of the evening?”

            “He was called back to the ship.”

            “Oh no!”

            “But he walked me as far as the spaceport, and then got a cab to take me home.” She was laying on the chaise lounge on the back porch of her apartment. “He was so romantic.” 

            “Did he asked to see you again?”

 

            “And she said yes! I got her number!”

            “Congratulations sir,” Farl was smirking. Davis had changed and had draped himself across one of the couches in the shuttle’s VIP accommodations, and was recounting his evening.

            There was a slight bump as they entered the magcon field at the Pride’s docking bay. “Well, back to work.” Davis sighed, stepping up and straightening his uniform.

            “Aye Aye sir.”

 

            Shelia padded outside to her porch in her bathrobe one last time and looked up at the stars. It was nice to live on the top floor, and know that no one could see her. It happened that the Pride of Carida was visible over her area this time of night. She could see it hanging there, silhouetted by the moons of Parkpia. She wondered what Tom was up to. Just as she started to turn, she noticed movement. The Star Destroyer seemed to be breaking away from the planet, and in a flicker, it was gone. She sighed. Whatever was going on, it was probably important.

 

 

            When Shelia woke up the next morning, she found a message waiting in her inbox. It was tagged with a military routing number, and it was from Tom.

 

            Dear Shelia,

 

            I’m sorry I had to run out last night on you, but it did turn out to be fairly important, so I hope you understand. I can’t tell you exactly what or where, but you’ll probably hear about it on the news anyway.

            I really enjoyed the other night, and I’m glad you did too. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, though I don’t know when that might be. Things look like they could get exciting around here in the not too distant future. I wish I could tell you more, but I really can’t.

            Hyperspace is a lonely thing. You can’t do much, except wait and think. Its nice now to have someone to think about. I’ll be in touch when I can. Write, if you have a chance. It will make the days go by a little faster.

 

Take care,

 

Tom

 

Shelia sighed, and wanted to hug the console. What a romantic he was. She pulled up the local newsfeed, and sent it to the flatscreen in the kitchen, where she could watch while making breakfast. The anchors were talking

 

            “…recorded footage from the Halicorn system, where pirates level a starfighter production facility, and also attacked the governor’s palace. The starfighter plant, operated by GrisiTek, Incorperated, was totally destroyed. Casualties, at this point are unknown…” But Shelia had stopped listening, and was dialing her younger sisters comlink. As a result, she missed the next segment, “Admiral Davis toured the wreckage and spoke to reporters afterwards.” The screen cut to a press conference, “We will not lets this stand. The parties responsible will be brought to justice.”

 

            “Tamaria Medra here.”

            “Tam, is Shelia. I was just calling to see if you were alright.”

            “Oh, the plant. Yes, I’m fine. I was actually here on Parkpia at the main office.”

            “Oh thank the Creator.”

            “Yeah big sis, I’m fine. I actually had a date last night. I was out when the call came in. I’ve been in the office ever since, coordinating with Security. The response has been slow. The Imps couldn’t find Davis, he’d apparently come down to the planet without telling anyone. But once they found him, they got coordinated pretty quick.”

            “That’s good news.”

            “Yes.”

            “So you had a date last night?”

            “Oh stars, Shelia, I don’t want to talk about it. This guy was such a loser. I was glad to get out of it.”

            “That bad?”

            “These engineers are all the same! It seems like they all still live with their mother, and play video games half the day. They barely know how to dress, let alone how to behave in public with a woman.”

            “Ick…well, I had a date last night too,” Shelia said, sipping her caf, and getting her food out of the toaster.

            “You??? A date? Who are you and what have you done with my older sister who never goes out except to her student’s drama productions?”

            “Very funny Tam.”

            “Well, what was he like?”

            “He was charming, and handsome. Very romantic.”

            “You’re making this up.”

            “Am not!”

            “Who is he?”

            “His name is Tom, he’s a pilot on the Pride of Carida.”

            “How did you meet?”

            Shelia went on to explain the story to her sister as she ate her breakfast and got ready for school.

            “Shelia, you’ve got it bad.”

            “I do not.”

            “I can tell from halfway across the planet. You’ve got it bad. But don’t worry. If he breaks your heart, I’ll threaten to cancel all our defense contracts until Davis throws him out an airlock.”

            Shelia grinned. “Right. I have to get to school.”

            “Right. Later hun.”

            “See you Sis.”

 

            Dear Tom,

 

            It was so nice to get your letter this morning. I understand why you had to go. We can’t really control these things can we?

            Please be careful out there. I’m sure you can fly circles around these pirate scum, but don’t get cocky and inattentive.

            It was back to the grind for me today, after that wonderful holiday. I won’t bore you with the details of what we’re going over, but I have these two kids in my 3 period algebra class that are just the evil incarnate. Some days, I just want to throw them into vaccum, and today was no exception. They were just so obxious. They were making fun of this poor girl who didn’t understand what we were doing. The problem with these two is they’re too smart for their own good. And they know it. They get everything the first time, they get excellent grades. They just go out of their way to be annoying. Its probably a parent thing, both their parents are well placed officials in the local government. I can’t seem to punish them either, because of it.

            Well, I’m sure you’re busy with whatever’s going on. Keep in touch.

 

Be Careful,

 

Shelia

 

            Tom smiled as he read about Shelia’s day. Things were developing very well. He sat at his desk, staring down at his datapad, conscious of a goofy grin spreading across his face.

            “You do realize you’ll have to tell her the truth eventually.” Farl pointed out, handing down a status report for Davis to read over.

            He scowled up at his aide. “Spoilsport.”

            “You know I’m right.”

            Davis sighed. “Yes, I do. Its just…I want to get to know her, and I want her to get to know me, as me. Not as “The Admiral” or anything else.”

            “Women don’t like to be lied to. About anything. Suppose she turns on her holonews, and sees you at a press conference? Then what?”

            Davis sighed and set his head down on his desk, a rather undignified pose for an Imperial Admiral. “I don’t know.”

            “She’s not going to be happy with you.”

            “Farl, you’re fired.”

            “I’ve been around too long for you to fire me. And you won’t, because you know I’m right.”

            “Just shut up for now. I’ll think of something. What do you have for me?”

            “Latest reports from our Intelligence network….”

 

 

            Davis stared out the viewport as the pirates slipped out his grasp once again. His eyes narrowed, and he stalked back down the bridge, and collapsed rather without dignity into his command chair. “My kingdom for an Interdictor cruiser,” he sighed.

            “Indeed, Admiral,” Captain Keiller was close by, as always. “These ruffians would have been done in months ago if we had one.”

            “But we don’t. So we have to do this the old fashioned way. Intelligence,” Davis sat up in his chair. “If we can ID their next target, we can lie in wait outside the system. We wait for them to get close to the planet, and jump in behind them, cutting off their retreat. Until we can get some solid intelligence, either for the next target, or their main base of operations, we’ll just have to keep chasing them away.” Davis sighed. “Set course for Parkpia. The Governor there is going to be annoyed that we’re late as it is.”

            Davis sat back down and opened his email. He was overjoyed to see another letter from Shelia. She had written him every day. Just to tell him about her day. He wrote back as often as duty would allow.

 

           

            “…for the sixth week in a row, Imperial news sources indicate that while the pirates were driven away, they suffered no significant casualties. Commander McClintlock, the Public Relations Officer here at the Parkpia Garrison, gave a briefing to reporters this morning.”

            “The pirates are employing the same tactics used by the Rebel Alliance in the early days of the Rebellion. Admiral Davis was most successful hunting rebels, these pirates are running out of time.”

            “While most analysts agree that Davis will eventually track down the pirates, some wonder weather it is worth the cost. For more on the movement to open a dialogue with the pirates, we got to our roving reporter…”

 

            “…I can’t believe they would suggest such a thing,” Shelia was telling her colleagues in the teacher’s lounge at Maximilian Randal High School. They were watching a midday news broadcast.

            “Since when did you become so gung-ho pro-Empire Shelia?” one of the other teachers asked around a mouthful of food.

            “Its not that, its just that these pirates don’t deserve to be negotiated with, they kill innocent civilians,” she pointed out.

            “True, but if we negotiate with them, give them what they want, maybe they’ll go away.”

            “And maybe they won’t,” another teacher pointed out. “We don’t know. I’m with Shelia. We shouldn’t be negotiating with the bastards.”

            Shelia watched the jerky footage of the holonewsmen imbedded with the Pride of Carida. TIE Interceptors screamed by the camera, and she wondered if Tom was flying one of those. The bell rang and she gathered her stuff. “I’ve got class. See you all later.”

            “Bye Shelia.”

 

            Davis looked at his crono testily as Governor Sil’varka droned on. He leaned over to his aide “Is there anyway to make this blowhard shut up?” he whispered.

            “I could have him shot.” Farl offered with a straight face.

            Davis glared at his aide, and turned back to the Governor.

            “Governor, I understand your concerns. But I will take whatever measures I feel necessary to finish this. If you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.” Davis stood up, and the Governor began to protest strenuously.

            “Governor Sil’varka, I suggest you considered your position here. You are a very fortunate man. As Governor of this world, you have access to quite a few Imperial resources, including the security detachement protecting this palace. It would be a great shame if those men were suddenly required elsewhere, wouldn’t it?”

            “You wouldn’t dare,” the Governor huffed.

            “You might be surprised, Governor. Politicians destroyed one Empire, I’m not about to let it destroy mine,” Davis narrowed his eyes at Si’lvarka, and turned. “Lead the way Lieutenant.” He nodded at Kinkaid. They strode out with a click of boot heels on marble and the door hissed shut behind them.

            “Stars Admiral,” Farl hissed. “You really twisted his tail, did you.”

            “Indeed.” Davis sighed. “I hate politicians. Are they expecting me at the Base’s Press Room?”

            “You have half a standard time part, sir.”

            “Lets get moving then.”

 

            Shelia was doing some shopping after school, when she heard the sirens of the local militia. She turned to look, and saw several units of speeder bike patrolmen and a patrol car escorting a long black hoverlimo with Imperial command flags on the hood. Admiral Davis was in town.

 

            “This is the best we can do?”

            “I’m afraid so, Admiral. They’re just aren’t that many ships in this sector to be had. And there’s no guarantee we’ll get them all, either. Some captains will probably just jump to the next sector over to avoid being drafted.” Farl handed over another datapad, as Davis handed on back to the Parkpia garrison commander.

            “Make a note Farl, lets try and get an operational shipyard around here, and start producing something remotely resembling system patrol craft.”

            “Aye, sir.”

            “What’s this?”

            “This is the text of your remarks.”

            “Very well.”

 

            In the Press Room of the Parkpia garrison, Commander McClintlock was at the podium, it was silent except for the occasional camera flash, and the whirring of the live holocams.

            “Ladies and Gentlees, Admiral Tom Davis.” He said before stepping away from the podium.

            The flashing became a storm as Davis strode into the room, and everyone stood. He stood up in front of the podium, and adjusted his notes. “Thank you, take your seats.”

            “Good afternoon citizens of the Parkpia Sector…”

 

            Shelia had stopped at the checkout of the grocery store. Davis’s broadcast was being carried on live audio, as well she suspected as live video. Everyone had stopped to listen. There was something oddly familiar about it.

            “…I speak to you today on a matter of the gravest importance.

            “As you know, the past several weeks have seen an incredible rise in pirate activity. This activity is well organized and well thought out. We now believe that it is the work of a single, well-organized group that is waging an indiscriminate war against civilian and military personnel in this sector. We do not know when or where they will strike next, but we must all be prepared. Therefore I have made the follow decisions:

            Effective immediately, all interstellar ships in this sector will be nationalized. Owners will be contacted by agents of the Imperial Navy and asked to comply with their directives. Those who refuse to comply with these orders will be subject to arrest and imprisonment, and their craft to impoundment.

            A state of emergency is in effect on all worlds, all local customs duties will be assumed by Imperial officials.

            All interstellar commerce will now take place in convoy, under the supervision of Imperial officials.

            Due to the restrictive nature of commerce under the convoy system, it may become necessary to institute commodities rationing.  Decisions on exactly what will be rationed and how will be made when it is determined what impact the convoy system will have on regular commerce.

            Make no mistake, our resolve is strong. We will not relent in our pursuit of these pirates. Some of you, might be asking, why does this matter? What is this Empire to me?

            This isn’t about the Empire, or about myself. This fight is one for freedom. Your freedom from fear. You’ve lived for so many years, in the fear that someone stronger would come along and take away what you hold dear to you. Your property. Your home. Even your life. But that ends today. It is time for all of you to stand up for order and security. For your freedom from fear.

            I realize, that for some, we may seem like outsiders in this fight. I assure we are not. We are striving to make a life for ourselves out here, among you, with you. We may have been cut off from the rest of the Empire, but we are committed to bringing stability, order, safety and freedom, here to the Parkpia Sector. We are your friends, your allies. Our fight is yours, your fight is ours.

            You can help us. Cooperate with local officials, bear sacrifice with honor. We will prevail in this. With your help, it will be so.

            Thank you, good luck, and may the Force be with you.”

 

            Davis stepped away from the podium and the stunned silence he had provoked. He could see Farl shaking his head out of the corner of his eye, laughing at his sudden off the cuff ending. Ultra Imperial loyalists across the sector were probably going nuts right about now. Davis had never believed any of the bantha shit the propagandists had spewed about the Jedi anyway. As far as he was concerned, they were perfectly good role models…he glanced at his crono. He had somewhere else to be.

 

            Shelia and the other in the store blinked, and tore their eyes away from the overhead speakers. Low murmuring was beginning to rise from the people in the store. Davis obviously didn’t buy into the Empire’s take on the Jedi…

            “A stirring speaker, isn’t he?” the old woman behind the checkout counter sighed. “Such a bright young man. A pity he doesn’t have anyone to share his life with.”

            Shelia nodded in assent. She was anxious to get home. If the Pride was in orbit, there was a chance that Tom might call.

 

            “Are you sure about this Admiral?” Farl asked dubiously, as he stood out side of the refresher in the apartment Davis used when on Parkpia.

            “Quite sure. For the fourth time.”

            “Very well.”

            “I’m sure no one will see me. And I want to see her again. She’s…just…so….” Davis trailed off. “Did I tell you about the letters she’s been writing me?”

            “Yes. Only about 27 times.”

 

            When Shelia arrived home, she found her sister Tamaria had let herself into her apartment.

            “Hello Tam, what are you doing here?”

            “What, I can’t come visit my sister once in a while?”

            “I just wasn’t expecting you that’s all.” Shelia said, putting down her packages on the counter. Tamaria slung her high heeled shoes back to the floor from their perch on her kitchen table and clicked over to where Shelia was putting groceries away.

            “Skies Tam, don’t you have a dress code at work? That skirt is positively indecent.” Tamaria beamed.

            “I know! Isn’t is just ducky? Being a senior Vice President has its perks. Immunity to dress code is one of them.”

            “You look like you’re dressed to go out clubbing.”

            “Actually, I am. I was here to drag you off with me.”

            “Tam…”

            “C’mon sis, it’s a Friday night. You don’t have to get up. And you need to get out more.”

            “No.”

            “Why not?”

            “I was hoping to spend the night in.”

            Tamaria’s eyes narrowed, just as Shelia’s mailbox chimed at her. Tamaria stepped over to the console. “Its from someone named Tom….SHELIA! There are like, three dozen emails from this guy! You’ve been writing him since he left?”

            Shelia was annoyed. “Yes, what business is it of yours?” she growled, coming over and sitting at the console.

            “OOOOh!” Tamaria squealed. “That’s so romantic! Wait…” Tamaria’s eyes focused like laser beams on her older sister. “Don’t want to go out tonight because the Pride is in orbit…you’re hoping he’ll call!” Shelia colored. “Shelia Medra! You’re in love with this man.”

            “Please, Tam, we’ve only met once. He’s a nice man, I wouldn’t go that far.” Shelia opened the email, and read. Her eyes widened “And he’s coming here tonight!” Her eyebrows were somewhere around her forehead. She jumped up from the console, and Tamaria was squealing. “Oooooh! I’ll get to meet him. Pass judgment.”

            “Oh no you won’t….”

            “Oh please, Shelia…I won’t stay, I’ll just wait till he gets here and then leave.”

            “Oh, alright, help me get these groceries away, so I can put on something nicer.”

 

            Davis waited in the shadows by the base gate. A van full of reporters was passing through on its way out, and it wouldn’t do to be recognized. He waited until it whispered away before approaching the guard post. Clad civilian garb, the guards came forward to question him, and he held out his ID. The saluted and resumed their posts. He turned to Farl.

            “Sure I can’t convince you to go as you?” he asked one last time.

            “I’m sure. Look, Farl, I’m going to tell her. I just don’t want to over do it.”

            “Tonight?”

            Davis sighed. “Yes, tonight. I just hope this goes alright.”

            “Good luck sir.”

            “Thanks Farl.”

            “Be careful.”

            Davis nodded and walked to the street, hailing a hover cab. He got in and gave the driver Shelia’s address.

           

            In the shadows behind him, two men hailed the next cab to pass by and handed over a large roll of credits, and ordered the driver to follow Davis’s cab.

            “I told you the rumor was good. The last time Davis was here, he was seen incognito, wooing some local chick. Real quiet like.”

            “Well, whatever it is, I hope its good enough to get the networks to buy the tape. I’m nearly broke.”

 

            “What time did the message say he’d be here?” Tamaria asked Shelia as she hurriedly tired to put on earrings and slip on a demure pair of flats that went well with the knee length skirt she’d picked out.

            “By about 9 o’clock. He said he couldn’t stay long, he’d probably have time to take me out to dinner.”

            “Should be about that time.”

 

            Davis walked up to the apartment’s main door. He couldn’t shake a tingling feeling in the back of his neck. It felt an awful lot like the sensory warning he got in the cockpit. But he was on the ground now…he shrugged and buzzed Shelia’s apartment number.

 

            The buzzer rang as Shelia applied a fresh coat of lipstick. “Get that for me, would you Tam?” Tamaria hit the button to unlock the main door.

 

            Davis heard the lock click and pulled it open and practically bounded up the stairs.

 

            Three steps behind him, and just in time to catch the door as it swung shut, the “journalists” were pulling out their cameras. This looked better than they had imagined.

 

            Davis knocked on the door with Shelia’s number on it.

 

            “Stay put,” She ordered Tamaria. And opened the door. “Hi!” She smiled, Tom smiled back, and handed her flowers. She was beautiful, but a movement caught his eye. His jaw dropped. Shelia turned to look in confusion, and saw the same look on her sisters face.

            “You!” they said at the same time.

            Suddenly bright lights filled the corridor, and two men came stampeding down the hallway.

            “Admiral Davis! Admiral Davis! Who’s the lady sir?”

            “What are you doing here?”

            “Admiral Davis! Is she you girlfriend?”

           

            Davis stared at the other woman. He knew her, she was the Vice President of GrisiTek, and a hard negotiator at that. Suddenly a commotion in the hallway.

            Sludgejournalists! Son of Vader’s Heart!  A hand grabbed his and pulled him into the apartment, and slammed the door.

 

            Tamaria was in shock. She knew the man at the door. This man was no ordinary sailor. This man commanded the entire sector! How had Shelia not seen that before? The sludgejournalists in the hallway sparked her back into action. She grabed the dumbfounded Admiral and pulled him into the apartment and shot the bolt home. The journalists were still out there, one started pounding on the door. Davis was standing there, totally destroyed. Her sister was staring at him, and suddenly, with her hands flying to her mouth, she fled to her bedroom. The Admrial looked absolutely dejected, hands by his side, a face pale, quivering and with a look in his eyes that Tamaria was not sure she would ever forget.

            “What have I done?” he whispered.

 

            Shelia couldn’t believe it. He’d lied to her. What was the truth? What was a lie? She believe him, she trusted him. She lay on her bed in her room, and felt burning tears running down her cheeks, as in the distance she heard the faint pounding of the sludgejournalists on her door.

            “Why?” she asked to no one in particular. Why did I bother trusting anyone?

 

            Tamaria almost felt sorry for the man, but this was her sister she was talking about. She walked up to him, and grabbed his arm. “Sit.” She ordered. Davis, suprsingly obediently sat down.

            “Dr. Medra…” he trailed off, suddenly making the connection. “Is Shelia your sister?”

            “Yes.” She tried to moderate her tone, trying to remember that her company depended on this man’s patronage. There was a long silence as she pinned him with a stare. “Caf?”

            “Yes please.” He said weakly. She got up. “I never meant to hurt her.” She almost didn’t hear him.

            “What?”

            “I never meant to hurt her. I came here tonight to tell her the truth.”

 

            Shelia slowly became conscious of voices in her living room. Tam’s voice. And Tom’s voice…no, the Admiral’s voice. She listened.

 

            “Why didn’t you tell her in the first place?”

            “Do you have any idea what its like Doctor?” Davis took the mug of caf and stood up, walking across the room to the sliding door to the porch. “To have your every move watched, every action analyzed?”

            “No, I suppose not.” Tamaria conceded. She began to understand where Davis was going with this.

            “Its unbearable. Its like living in a transpirsteel bubble. Every move observed. Never a chance to just let down, blow off some steam. Be yourself again.” Davis was warming to his topic. “When I met your sister, I was just trying to blow off some steam. I got together with a few TIE pilots I know in the command ranks, had my Intelligence people create a phony ID, and just get away from the responsibilities for a while.”

            Tamaria watched Davis as he paced the length of the doorway, occasionally staring up at the stars. She saw Shelia come to stand just inside her bedroom doorway, listening.

            “I’m sure she probably told you how we met.” Tamaria nodded. “I liked her. She was bright, intelligent, and she has the most beautiful brown eyes,” Davis said in wonder, and Tamaria saw her sister blush straight down to her toes. “Nothing at all like the women these politicians keep dragging past me. You’ve been to those functions, Doctor. Nothing but vapid, insipid, drones.” Tamaria nodded, she couldn’t agree more. Davis showed up to those events looking like death warmed over, with his aide practically dragging him from functionary to functionary, almost forcing him to play nice. “Her eyes…they spoke volumes about her intelligence and passion. They sparkled like her personality.” He sighed. “When I took her out to dinner, I wanted to get to know her better. I wanted her to try and get to know me, Tom Davis. Not Admiral Thomas Renn Davis, Hero of the Empire, Commander of the Imperial Star Destroyer Pride of Carida and military ruler of the Parkpia System. I wanted to get past all that, down to who we were underneath. Who I’d be if I were the captain of a luxury liner for the largest firm on Corellia. Which is what my mother, wanted, by the way. She didn’t like the Empire.” Tamaria nodded. “But I’ve found that most people can’t get beyond the titles. They can’t find ME underneath it all. So I continued the charade via letters. But I came here tonight to tell her the truth. Frankly, its been eating at me since I left. Its not something you do via mail, so it had to wait until I came in person. And my aide hasn’t let up since I left. He was right, you know.”

            “What?”

            “He said she’d be mad. And I suppose she has every right to be. I should have just told her. I was going to. I was going to take her back to the Officer’s Club for dinner, and explain everything. Except I was sort of thrown off balance by you…and our two friends in the hallway.” Davis looked at the monitor next to the apartment’s main entry that showed the hallway. The two men with cameras were sitting in the corridor, having been chastised into silence by neighbors threatening to call the militia. “I suppose I should find a way to leave. Since she probably doesn’t want to talk to me again.”

 

            Shelia had been listening to Tom…no, the Admiral…no, Tom…tell his story to her sister. She hurt from not being told the truth, but in a way, she understood. Would I have had the chance to meet him if he hadn’t done what he did? Probably not, she decided. How likely was it that she, a high school math teacher, would ever meet the commander of all the Imperial forces in this sector without a subfuge like that? Not very.  And there was no denying the connection they had felt with one another. Something like that could not be feigned or acted. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. But he did. A voice told her. The question was, could he be forgiven? Probably, the voice admitted reluctantly.

            “…probably doesn’t want to talk to me again.”

            “I wouldn’t count on it.” She finally found her voice. He spun away from this study of the security flat screen of the hallway.

 

            Davis took in her apperance. Her mascara had run, and her eyes were red with tears. “Shelia…I…don’t know what to say.”

            She held up a hand to cut him off. “Sorry’s usually a good place to start.” She spat out, more harshly than she intended. She could see him wince.

            She’s speaking to you, it’s a start. The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Farl. He found that annoying. “I am sorry. I was going to tell you the truth tonight. I knew I couldn’t keep if from you any longer, and build a relationship with you.”

            The thought of building a relationship with him made her heart flutter, but she wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “And how do I know that? How can I trust you? You could just be saying that because it all went to hell this evening.”

            She could see Tom draw himself up ramrod straight. “My word of honor, as an Imperial officer and a gentlemen, I came here tonight to tell you the truth.”

            And before she could stop herself, the words came out of her mouth. “Sure, I’ll bet that’s what Tarkin said to Princess Leia right before he obliterated Alderaan anyway.” She regretted them the moment she said them. His eyes snapped open, deep pain burning in them. Even Tamaria sat straight up in her chair and looked aghast at her sister. Tamaria had been in the company of the Imperials in this sector before, and the one topic that was absolutely, completely, and totally off limits was Alderaan.

            Tom felt as if he’d been punched in the guts. The wound of Alderaan was sore on his honor, and it felt as though salt had just been rubbed into it. By someone he liked, and could grow to like even more. He felt the blood drain from his face.

            “I think perhaps I’d better leave,” he stammered, and turned to the door.

 

            Oh kriff, now I’ve really gone and done it, Shelia why can’t you think before you speak! Her eyes welled up again.  “No, wait.” She crossed the room. His hand was on the doorknob. “Tom, wait!”

 

            It was his name that made him pause. It was the first time she’d used it all evening. He turned back. She was standing before him, blurry, but he could see fresh tears in her eyes. He wondered why she was blurry, when he realized he was about to cry. He tried to blink them away. Admirals don’t cry, he admonished himself.

            “What?” he asked, his voice rough.

            “I…I’m sorry. I never…I don’t know what’s gotten into me!” Shelia felt herself sobbing unconrolably. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Well, actually…I did…I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me when you lied to me. But I never meant it…I didn’t mean it.” She got in between sobs. She was gripping his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She kept repeating it over and over. “I’m sorry.” Tamaria got up and patted her sister on the shoulder.

            Tom didn’t know what to say. He’d been cut to the core by her remark. It stung, deep inside him. But he understood on one level she hadn’t really meant it. And she didn’t know all that was going on inside of him. Because she barely knows you…maybe you should tell her. You want to build a relationship with her, start building. The voice still sounded like Farl.

            “I’ve been there.” He blurted out. The two women started, as if they hadn’t expected him to speak. “Alderaan, that is, or what’s left of it.” Ice was forming in his gut as his memory brought back the vision. “It’s a horrible thing.” He leaned on the edge of the counter, and Tamaria saw his eyes glaze over. “I took my ship there, shortly after it happened. That’s how I convinced the officers to sign the letter of protest that got me exiled here.” He shuddered. “Every morning I wake up, and I look at myself in the mirror as I shave, and I wonder if I would have been man enough to refuse an order like that. Could I have said ‘No, I won’t’? Was I strong enough? A question I’ll never have an answer to, but yet, I ask every day. Its something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back to stare at the celing. “So I guess you’ll forgive me for taking the comment a little personally.”

            Shelia had stopped crying again. “I’m sorry Tom. I never should have said it in the first place. You’re not like that at all. I can tell. I never meant to imply. I was just…angry.”

            Davis sighed. “We all say things we regret when we’re angry, I suppose.”

            “Tom, I…” Shelia steped toward him and reached out to touch his arm, but comlinks began pinging around the room.

            “Sith.” Davis reached into his pocket, as Tamaria fished in her purse. Shelia realized that her personal comlink was beeping as well as the one in the apartment. “Oh kriff….”

            “Davis here.”

            “I take it things are not going well.”

            “What makes you say that.”

            “The stupid look on your face in the holovid on the news.”

            “Oh kriff.”

            “You can say that again. I’m having a squad sent over to clear out whatever ruffians are about to descend on her doorstep.”

            “Thank you.”

 

            “Tamaria Medra.”

            “Tam, its Fi.”

            “What’s up?”

            “Are you watching the news?” Tamaria got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

            “No, why?”

            “Shelia’s on the news. Admiral Davis went to visit her. I guess that mysterious sailor she was talking about was just a cover.”

            “Something like that…look, Fi, I’m here at Shelia’s. Can you call back later?”

            “You’re THERE?”

            “Yes, and we’re rather busy at the moment,” Tamaria looked out the front window at the various reporters and camera crews pulling up in front of the apartment complex. She drew the blinds.

            “Oh gods, is everything alright?”

            “Not exactly, I’ll tell you all about it later.”

 

            Shelia, fortunately, had answered her personal comm. first.

            “Shelia Medra”

            “Shelia.”

            “Hi daddy, whats up?” She said, trying to force cheerfulness into her voice. She and her father were not on the best of terms, since she moved out to live on her own.

            “Is there something you want to tell your mother and I?” he sounded upset. Oh gods! The sludgejournalists…

            “Does this have anything to do with the reporters outside my door?” she blinked back the tears that were threatening to come again.

            “I would assume so.”

            “Well, you see, I met a sailor a few weeks ago, and it turns out he’s more important that I originally thought.” A commotion was building outside her apartment.

            “I’m sorry?”

            “I’m very confused right now Daddy. It’s a very long story, and as soon as I figure out what’s happened ot my own life, you’ll be the first to know, okay Daddy?” Shelia rattled off in a false perky voice.

            “Young lady, your mother and I are very concerned…”

            “Daddy, I have guests right now, this isn’t really the time.”

            “Guests?”

            “Tamaria was here where Tom arrived. I’m afraid neither of them has been able to leave.”

            “This is all your sister’s doing isn’t it?” her father’s opinion of Tamaria was even more strained than his of her, because of Tamaria’s rather fast lifestyle.

            “No, actually, she’s blameless in this one. I have to go now father, I’ll be in touch.”

            “Young lady…”

            “I love you too daddy, I’ll be in touch.” And she clicked off the comlink.

 

            Tamaria answered the apartment com. “Tamaria Medra.”

            “Is this the Shelia Medra residence?”

            “May I ask whose calling?”

            “This is Jayson Blair of the Parkpia Times…”

            “I’m sorry you have the wrong number.” She disconnected quickly. It started ringing again immediately.

            “Don’t answer it again,” Davis advised. He looked stricken. “This is all my fault,” he moaned.

            “Probably.” Tamaria looked over at him, and then grinned. “Well, how do we get out of this mess, loverboy?”

            “Well…”

            “Kriff, Kriff, Kriff!” Tom and Tamaria turned to where Shelia had slammed her comlink to the counter. Tamaria was at her side in an instant.

            “What is it hun?”

            “Guess who that was?” Shelia moaned, new tears coming.

            “Who?”

            “Shelia, is there something you want to tell your mother and I?” She mimicked in a reasonably good imitation of her father’s voice.

            “Oh no…” Tamaria rolled her eyes, holding her sister, and bringing her to sit with her on the couch.

            “Your parents called?” Tom asked hesitantly.

            “Yes.”

            “I wouldn’t worry too much, Admiral,” Tamaria offered. “Daddy is annoyed at the two of us in general because we didn’t do like he planed. Like Fiona did.” Tamaria snorted.

            “Which was?” Davis was confused.

            “Drop out of school, get married and start having children before the age of 23. Father is hopelessly chauvinistic.”

            “Oh. I see.”

            “I don’t suppose you have like, a machine that brainwashes people we could use on him somewhere up on that orbiting monstrosity do you?” Shelia asked.

            “All the interagation droids have been cannablized for parts, sorry.” Davis offered with a wry smile. “I could order an orbital bombardment…” Shelia laughed. Tamaria laughed. Soon they were all laughing, bleeding off the stress of the evening. When they finnaly stopped lauging, Tom met Shelia’s eyes.

            “I’m sorry Shelia. I really am.”

            “I know, I’m sorry too. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of me.” She reached her hand across the low table to where he sat in the chair. “Peace?”

            “Peace.” He took it and raised it to his lips.

            “HEL-LO? Other people in the room?” Tamaria made a gagging noise. Shelia giggled.

            “Oh stop, you’re just jealous.”

            “Oh sure…like I want all the attention.” Tamaria’s words brought reality back in. The noise in the hallway was getting louder.

            “How am I going to do this?” Shelia wondered out loud. The thought of these vultures following her everywhere was humbling. She looked across at Tom.

            “If its too much for you, I’ll walk out of here and leave you be,” he offered “I wouldn’t want to cause you trouble on my account.”

            “Oh you silly martyr.” Tamaria sighed. “All you men are the same. Speaking of which, since you’re going to be dating my sister, you should at least call me Tamaria. No sense in formality.”

            “Indeed.”

            “Tom, its not that. I want to try this. I want to get to know you. I’m just worried about how to handle all of this.”

            “Well, I think I can help with that, and it should be on its way, right about now.”

            As if on cue, there was a high pitched whine, and a low frequency rumble. Tom sneaked a peak out the blinds, and the ladies joined him. A repulsorlift truck had come on a direct line from the Parkpia base, flying over the city. A Chariot LAV accompanied it. It settled to the ground, and white armor spilled out into the night, with black clad officers leading the men across the front lawn into the apartment.

            “Oh my stars,” Shelia’s eyes were wide. Davis turned toward the security viewscreen where the hallway outside the apartment door was teeming with reporters. The black clad security officer leading the detachment held a voice amplifier to his lips. His voice could clearly be heard within the apartment.

            “Attention!” the clamour subsided. “You are all on private property. You are being asked to leave. Anyone who refuses to do so will be arrested for trespass. You have one minute.” The officer nodded to the stormtroopers on his flanks, who checked their weapons. The reporters, sensing the officer meant business, began moving rapidly toward the exit. Within moments, the hallway was clear. Davis opened the door. The men moved down the hallway and saluted. “Lieutenant Randal, reporting sir.”

            “At ease, Lieutenant,” both women marveled at how easily Tom slipped into a command posture. “What were your orders?”

            “Sir, my orders were to clear a disturbance on private property, and provide additional security for the Commander in Chief.”

            “How many men?”

            “Two squads of stormtroopers, plus the Chariot as heavy weapon back up, sir.”

            “I don’t really think we needed the extra firepower, but very well. Lieutenant, I want this residence guarded day and night. There’s no need for this poor lady to be harrased like this in her own home. Get in touch with this building’s manager, and arrange it. This will continue until this mess blows over and people find something more important to worry about. In addition, you’ll provide an escort for this lady to and from her place of employment.”

            “Aye aye sir. Lieutenant Kinkaid said to be prepared for such and eventuality, and we’ve already begun putting assets in place.”

            “Excellent.”

            One of the stormtroopers suddenly cocked his head and the other turned to him, as if in disbelief. A thundering roar was heard overhead, shaking the entire building. One of the other officers in the detachment came running up the apartment’s stairs with his blaster drawn. “Code Delta 2, GO GO GO!” Before Davis could register the code in his mind, the two stormtroopers had him by the shoulders and were carrying him bodily down the stairs. The officer had his blaster out and at the ready in one hand, the other had grabbed Shelia by the shoulder and was dragging her along. Tamaria struggled to keep up, confusion written on her face.  An Assault Shuttle was landing in the street, and TIE Interceptors screamed overhead.

            Code Delta 2: What do to when there is a credible threat against the life of the Commander in Chief and he is in imminent danger. Get him to the safest location available. In this case, he was probably headed for the Pride. That being decided, he wondered about the wisdom of bringing the ladies along, but supposed it was a snap judgment on the part of the officer. The shuttle’s ramp was barely down when the Stormies hauled him up, rather ungracefully, in full view of the reporters who had turned back at the arrival of the Assault Shuttle. Captain Kieller was waiting in the VIP area. The shuttle’s ramp was coming up already, Davis could hear it, and the repulsors were lifting them off before they were is was fully closed.

            “What the Sith happened?” Davis asked, rubbing his shoulder where the stormtroopers had grabbed him rather hard.

            “Sir, General Vincent is dead.” Kieller was pale.

            “What?” Davis stumbled to get his feet as the main drive kicked in and the ship pointed nearly vertical.

            “General Vincent was returning from a tour of the defense facilities on Urbia, when his shuttle was brought out of hyperspace by pulsemass mines. It was then destroyed by the pirates, lying in wait.”

            Davis tried to processes the information in a way that made sense. “Pulsemass mines?”

            “Yes sir.”

            Davis closed his eyes. General Vincent was a good man. He would be missed. “They’ll pay for this, Captain. Was there a threat against myself?”

            “Nothing specific sir, but since nearly the entire sector knew exactly where you were, we thought it best, given the circumstances…” Kieller trailed off as he became aware of the two females.

            Davis turned. “Stars alive…please sit down,” he begged. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.” He rubbed his face in his hands. “Patrick, please get these ladies a drink, or something. Shelia, this is Captain Kieller, my chief operations officer. Tamaria, I think you’ve met before.”

            “Indeed.”

            “Yes, I did recognize you Doctor. A pleasure, ma’am,” Kieller acknowledged “Would either of you like some water?”

            “Yes, please,” Tamaria replied. Kieller retrieved it from the mini bar.

            “So what’s the plan?” Davis asked.

            “The department heads are waiting on you on board, and we’ll discuss options. Your uniform is in the refresher.”

            “Thank you.” Davis dissapeard.

            “What do we have on the priates?” Davis shouted from within the refreshers.

            “I’ll bring up the data now. All we have was pulled from in-flight cameras from his escort. We also rescued four people. Two fighter pilots, the pilot of the shuttle and one of Vincent’s aides, who was in the cockpit with the pilot and was ejected.”

            “How are they?”

            “The fighter pilots are in bacta, because of exposure. It took us some time to mount a rescue operation.”

            “The others?”

            “Dr. y’Talor has them sedated in Sick Bay. They’re both pretty shaken up.”

            The sound of running water drowned out all other conversation from the refresher station.

            Kieller turned his attention to the women. “I’m quite sorry you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, ladies. And we’re sorry for the inconveince. We’ll get you back down to the planet as soon as it can be arranged.

            “Its quite alright captain.” Tamaria sipped her water, and was trying to get Shelia to take some.

            “Are you quite alright, Miss Medra?” Kieller asked Shelia.

            It took Shelia a long moment to find her voice. “Yes…yes, I’m fine. It just….I’m so confused!”

            “Shelia honey, you ain’t the only one. Here have some water, your color doesn’t look good.”

            Shelia took the water. She was sure she looked terrible. Between the crying earlier, and the focible removal from her apartment. She felt terrible. She was emotionally and physically drained. She just wanted to curl up in her bed. I will NOT cry again, she told herself sternly.

            Just then the door opened from the refresher, and she sucked in a breath. Tom came out, dressed in full uniform, sharply pressed, precise, polished. His hair was combed in place, he was freshly showered. Except for a hollowness around his eyes, she could swear he was a whole new man. He was devastatingly handsome in uniform.

            “Admiral,” the captain acknowledged, and handed him a data pad. He shot her a dazzling smile that made her breath catch in her throat, and turned to look at the information. There was a slight jolt.

            “Arriving,” a disembodied voice came over a speaker somewhere, a pilot she supposed. Tom questioned Captain Kieller about something quietly, nodded and turned to the women, and came over to crouch next to Shelia. “I’ve gotta go take this meeting. I don’t know when I’ll get free. I’ve got someone to take you somewhere where you can get cleaned up and rest. I think it would be best if you over-nighted here, and we’ll slip you back to Parkpia in the morning. Okay?” Shelia nodded. “I’ll come and check on you as soon as I’m able.” He smiled again, and Shelia couldn’t help but smile back. He hesitated for moment, before leaning in to kiss her cheek. He straightened and turned, heading down the ramp, as it let down. Shelia and Tamaria heard the heels of stormtroopers clicking as they came to attention, and heard the bubble of anxious and concerned voices from the bottom of the ramp.

            “Ladies, if you’ll come with me please?” Captain Kieller gestured. They stood and followed him down the shuttle’s ramp.

            And into the cavernous hanger bay. Tamaria had seen it before, but Shelia had never seen anything like it at all. It was acres of open space, with TIE fighters hanging from the racks and technicians scurrying around everywhere. The space was stories high, stretching in each direction. She nearly stumbled trying to take it all in. Tamaria grabbed her shoulder to steady her.

            “Easy sis, it’s a lot to try and take in all at once.” Shelia nodded dumbly, and saw a cluster of olive green uniforms moving out of the hanger.

            There was another officer waiting at the bottom of the ramp. “Doctor, Miss Medra, this is Lieutenant Kinkaid. He’s going to show you to your temporary quarters. If you’ll excuse me, I need to catch up with the Admiral.” The turned to see Captain Kieller moving as fast as his dignity would allow, to catch up with the command group.

            “Ladies, this way.” Lieutenant Kinkaid was a kindly looking old fellow, with graying hair and a large waistband, and gave Shelia an immediate impression of a father or uncle figure.

            “You’re the Admiral’s aide,” Tamaria said, as much as satement as a question.

            “Indeed Doctor. And right now I’m aiding him by getting you fine ladies more comfortable. If you’ll follow me.” He led them to a turbolift, and they entered. He keyed in a security code, and the doors slid shut, and they whispered away.

            “How long have you been with the Admiral?”

            “Oh, for about 3 years now. Ever since was the Commandant of the Academy.”

            “He was commandant of the Imperial Acadamy?” The question came from Tamaria.

            “Indeed ma’am. A good one at that. And then someone pulled the right strings on got him back on active duty, just before Yavin, it was.”

            “You were the one telling Tom to tell me the truth.”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            “Why?”

            “I could see that he obviously liked you. You can’t build a relationship on lies ma’am.”

            “And you, Leuitenant, are you married?”

            The older man’s eyes glazed over, looking into the past. “I was once. A long time ago.”  Shelia and Tamaria were saved from having to reply by the doors of the turbolift shooting open. “Ah, here we are.” He motioned for them to follow him, and they did, down a long corridor. “Our VIP quarters are mainly empty most of the time, so you could have separate cabins if you wanted, however, we thought it best to give you one of our two bedroom suites, that is, unless you ladies have any objections.” They shook their heads. “Very well, then.” He keyed entry to the door in front of him. It opened up into a living area, with a small kitchenette and a veiwport that had an excellent view of the planet. “We’ve brought some things down to make you more comfortable, and I expect we’re finding more things for you. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call, just press the button on the desk, and someone will be with you shortly. Please make yourselves at home.” Kinkaid favored them with a smile. “Don’t worry, this will all get sorted out, sooner or later.” He stepped back trhough the door, and finally, Shelia and Tamaria were alone again.

            Shelia collapsed on the couch, staring out the veiwport. She could maybe make out the continent she lived on from here. Tamaria sat down next to her. “Well, we’ve had an interesting evening.”

            “Oh stars…”

            “C’mon, I’ve been in these cabins before. They have bathtubs. You need a good soak.” Tamaria grabbed her sister by the arm and pulled her up.

 

            “Are we in agreement then?” heads nodded around the table. “Very well.” Well, it shouldn’t be hard to scare these people into accepting the convoy system now…Davis thought to himself, looking over the records on more time. The video clearly showed the three ships dropping out of hyperspace into a swarm of pirate fighters, operating out of an old Xitar-Class cargo hauler. The camera recording didn’t last long, and it soon dissolved as the fighter was destroyed. But it lasted long enough to show that the pirates had placed three pulse mass mines in a line abrest formation, probably along the most likely direct hyerspace path from Urbia to Parkpia. The question was, how many mines did the pirates have? Why Vincent? Was it just part of a general campaign of terror, or was their a reason the pirates had killed the second ranking officer in the sector? Intelligence was scrambling for answers. Meanwhile, he had another address to make.

 

            “This feels so good,” Shelia sighed. Tamaria smiled, as she took off her shoes and dangled her toes in the water where Shelia was soaking.

            “So…” Tamaria drawled.

            “Yes?”

            “Are you going to go after him?” she asked.

            “Tam, hun, I’m so confused right now. I don’t know what to think. I think so. He’s so…so…cute. You should have seen his letters. I mean, you see him now, and he’s all high and mighty, because he has to be. But when he writes to me, or when we talked the day we met, he’s so…normal. Like any other guy. And he’s sweet and charming…”

            “And damn handsome,” Tamaria pointed out.

            “There’s that too.”

            “But I mean really…do you think it could work? He’s an Admiral, I’m a school teacher. Its like something out a bad holofilm.”

            “Hon, if you want to make it work. You can. I’m not going to lie. It will be hard, even I can tell. Sludgejournalists, long separations, it will be tough, but if you want it badly enough, you can do it. The question you should ask yourself, is, are you willing to risk it all to make it work?”

            “I…”

            “Attention all hands! Attentional all hands!” the speaker on the wall blared, and Shelia and Tamaria winced at the high pitched whistle. “Prepare for important message.” There was a shuffling, and there were voice in the backround. It sounded like a press conference. Suddenly, the voices roared up at once. “Admiral Davis! Admiral Davis!”

            “Please, take your seats, I have an important message.

            “At approximately 9 pm, Parkpia local time, the Pride of Carida received a distress signal from the shuttle carrying General Charles Vincent, commander of Imperial ground forces, and the second ranking officer in this sector. His shuttle had come under attack by pirates using pulse mass mines to draw ships out of hyperspace.

            I regret to say, General Vincent’s shuttle was destroyed. While we did find several survivors at the site of the battle, General Vincent was not one of them. The names of the survivors are being with held until we can complete the notification process.

            General Vincent was a great man. A natural leader, an extremely skilled tacticion and a good friend. His loss is tragic, and he will be sorely missed.

            I have asked Colonel Edmonton to assume command of the ground forces in this sector for the present time.

            General Vincent’s death is tragic blow, but it will not deter us in our resovle. We shall not now, nor shall we ever, negotiate with pirates and terrorists who threaten our peace. This serves only as a reminder that only through vigilance and determination will we achieve ultimate victory over these terrorists. It should also serve as a stark example why the convoy system is being put in place. With the knowledge that these pirates can use pulse mass mines, individual ships are at an even greater risk than before. All civilian interstellar traffic, except for that taking place in convoy, is halted until further notice.

            We will honor General Vincent’s memory by continuing our fight against the terrorists. We will prevail. With your help, and your determination, we will succeed. Thank you, no questions.”

 

            Davis stepped away from the podium, flashes continuing, and questions being shouted. He ignored them and left the press room. Farl was waiting.

            “Well, good news in bad.”

            “What is it Farl?”

            “The good news?” Farl sighed, “Not one of them asked what you were doing tonight.”

            Davis sighed. He’d much rather trade a scandal for having General Vincent back. “Are they settled in?”

            “When I left them, yes.”

            “I want to go check on her…I mean…er…them…”

            “Go, you fool.”

 

            Shelia was toweling off, and Tamaria was slipping into the tub. “You might want to refresh the water a little.” She suggested to her sister. Much like a posh hotel, there were white terrycloth bathrobes hanging. She put one on over, and cinched it tight. It was warm and fuzzy, and overly large, it went clear to her ankles. She rolled her hair up into the towel. She was just stepping out into the lounge area of the suite when the door chimed.

            “That’s probably him,” Tamaria called. “Just shut the door. I think I’m just going to sleep here.”

            “Whatever Tam,” Shelia chuckled, and the door to the refresher slid shut. “Just a minute!” She called out. She wondered if the door was soundproof. She looked at the security screen, it was Tom. She opened the door. He stepped back in surprise at her attire.

            “I’m sorry…” he stuttered. “I can come back…”

            “Oh come in silly. Have a seat, I’m going to go see what kind of women’s clothes a star destroyer comes equipped with.” She turned toward her room. “Tamaria’s in the tub, so don’t even think about using the ‘fresher.”

            “Right.” He replied, blushing furiously.

            Shelia disappeared into one of the bedrooms off the suite, and Davis sat down on the couch. It was comfortable, he noted in some surprise. More comfortable than the one in his quarters. Maintenance will have to do something about that, he decided immediately, and resolved to get the room number. He closed his eyes and leaned back…

            And jumped. “Eeep!” Shelia looked at him strangely as she settled on the couch next to him.

            “Are you alright?” She looked at him.

            “I…uh…think I dozed off there for a second. You startled me.” She grinned at him.

            “More like a couple hundred seconds. When I came out of my room, you were snoring up a storm.” And it was kinda cute too…Davis blushed.

            “Sorry.”

            “When’s the last time you slept?” She looked into his eyes. They had dark circles under.

            “Umm…how about, I don’t remember?”

            Shelia narrowed her eyes at him. “Thomas Renn Davis,” she scolded. “You need to get some sleep before your mind slips up and gets you and everyone around you killed.”

            “I’ll get right on that.” He smirked. His expression softened. “Are you okay?”

            Shelia sighed. She had put on the skirt she wore earler, and tucked her legs up underneath it on the couch. Among the clothes that were left in her room, she hadn’t found much that fit, or that she liked, and she finally settled on an oversized sweatshirt with the Imperial Academy crest on the front. It was warm, and she was a little cold in the shipboard atmosphere. She picked at the fuzz on the sleeve. “I’m doing alright.” She replied. “Its all been very overwhelming. Are YOU alright? I’m sorry about General Vincent, were you close?”

            Davis sighed. “We were weren’t particularly close. He and I had very little in common. He was much older, very much the solider monk. But he was an excellent general, and a very skilled tactician, well respected by his men. He will be greatly missed.” Tom shook his head. “What’s worse is now if something happened to me, command of this sector would fall to someone totally unfit for the command.” He leaned his head back on the couch, closed his eyes and sighing.

            “I’m sorry if I…”

            “Nothing to apologize for, Shelia. Right now, I’m just worried about you and your safety.”

            “I’m okay Tom, really. As I said, a little overwhelmed.” She looked him in the eyes, and smiled. “I guess it just takes some getting used to, that’s all. I’ve never had a boyfriend in the navy before.”

            Tom’s heart skipped a beat at that, and he smiled back. “Well, its been a long time since I had any kind of girlfriend, so you’ll have to forgive me if my manners are a little rusty.”

            “You’re doing just fine so far.” She shivered involuntarily, and drew her hands into the cavernous sleeves of the sweatshirt. Tom grinned at her. “What?”

            “You look good in that.” He replied, still grinning uncontrollably.

            She flopped her arms around and the loose sleeves flapped like wings. “It’s a tent on me.” She giggled.

            “Still looks cute on you.”

            “Oh, how come?”

            “Its mine.”

            Shelia stopped and cocked an eyebrow at him, as if she thought he was putting her on. “What?”

            “Look at the embroidery on the sleeve.” He was chuckling.

            She turned the left sleeve, and carefully embroidered on the shoulder, read:

            Rear-Admiral Tom Davis

                   Commandant

 

            “How did it get down here then?”

            “I had it sent down, when the orderlies took up a collection, I asked them to make sure you got that.”

            “Really now,” she smirked at him. “Why is that?”

            “I thought it would look good on you. And I was right.”

            “Well just for that, you’re not getting it back,” She retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. She was grinning madly though, and inhaled deeply. She could scent a faint cologne in the material.

            “I really didn’t think I would be.” He grinned back at her. “And if you stick that tongue out again, I might have to keep it.”

            “Is that a threat?”

            “A promise.”

            “Oh yeah, I dare you to try, fly boy.”

            “Oh PLEASE, people. Not while I’m in the room please, and could you at least come up with some original lines?” Tom and Shelia jumped guiltily like two teenagers caught necking, unaware that the distance between them had closed so rapidly. Tamaria was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, wrapped in her bathrobe, much the way that Shelia had been when Tom first arrived. Both Tom and Shelia blushed a bright crimson. Tamaria rolled her eyes. She pointed at the Admiral. “I hate to be playing chaperone, but you look like hell Admiral. And you need to command this flying circus. The ship is in its night cycle, get some sleep, or I’ll call Dr. y’Talor and have her look you over. You’ll be in the med bay for a week.”

            Davis shuddered and stood. “Of course you’re right. Far be it from me to not follow the doctor’s orders.”

            “Its just because you’re less scared of me than you are of your own medic.”

            “Those rumors are simply not true.”

            “What rumors?” Shelia asked.

            “The only person on this ship who can make Tom here do anything is Dr. y’Talor, the ships’s medical officer. Word is that when she pulls out her needles, the mighty Admiral passes out like a baby.” Davis brushed a bright crimson.

            “Well, goodnight Admiral.”

            “Goodnight Tamaria.” He replied, as she went into her own room and the door slid shut.

            “I really should get going. I don’t know if I’ll see you in the morning or not. They’re going to try to slip you into Parkpia unnoticed.” She nodded as he walked to the door.

            “Take care,” she told him.

            “You too,” he replied. Kissed her on the cheek, and turned to go.

            “Tom?”

            “Yes?” he turned back. She took a breath, and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, pinning him against the door.

            It was magic, like it had always meant to be. There were fireworks, Shelia would swear it. When they finnaly broke for lack of oxygen, she loosened her grip on him. He straightened. “Good night Shelia.”

            “Good night Tom.” And he turned and was gone.

 

            Shelia curled up in the bed, still wearing Tom’s sweatshirt. She could smell him on it, and she sighed contentedly, lips still tingling from the memory of the kiss.

 

            Davis still had work to do, but when he finally did get to sleep that night, he smiled, and closing his eyes, feel her arms around him, and taste her on his lips again. He supposed his dreams would not be troubled tonight, as they had the past few. No, tonight, he knew exactly what he wanted to dream about.

 

            The next morning, Shelia awoke to the smell of fresh caf. She heard the sound of movement in the kitchen.

            Odd, she thought Tamaria usually has to be physically removed from bed. She yawned and stretched. She grabbed the bathrobe off the hook behind the door, and opened the door to the common room. She stepped out.

            And nearly tumbled in surprise.

            “Oh my! Are you quite alright Miss Medra?”

            “Yes, I’m quite fine thank you. I was just startled that’s all.”

            “You were not expecting me then.”

            “No…who are you?” Shelia eyed her metal guest. She’d never seen one in person before.

            “I am called Hop, but my proper designation is HO-3PO. I am a Human/Cyborg relations ‘droid, and fluent in over six million forms of communication. I’m also well versed in all local hospitality customs, as hospitality is my primary function. I have also been upgraded to understand the rules and regulations of over 3 million military services.”

            “I see.”

            “I was sent to make sure you and your sister were quite comfortable, and to advise you to wake up and have breakfast. Luietnant Kinkaid asked me to tell you that your shuttle to the surface of Parkpia would leave in a standard time part.”

            Shelia nodded. “Where’s Tom?”

            “Pardon me, ma’am?

            “The Admiral. Where is Admiral Davis?”

            “I’m afraid he’s already in a meeting, Miss Medra. I was instructed to tell you that if he could get free he would see you off at the docking bay. And in case he could not, I was told to tell you to “Take good care of the sweatshirt”. Whatever that means, I tell you Miss Medra, I have never quite gotten used to these military types. They are quite beyond my programming.”

            Shelia smiled at Tom’s message, but the droid had her attention now. “What was your programming?”

            “I was programmed to serve as a concierge at the Hotel Imperial on Commonor. It wasn’t until after the Rebels came that I was put into this dreadful military service.”

            “How did that happen?”

            “It wasn’t my fault! They were registered guests, and they had perfectly valid IDs, without criminal records. How was I supposed to know they were Rebel terrorists come to blow up the Credit Exchange? Really, Miss Medra, sometimes I wonder about humans.”

            Shelia rolled her eyes as she pieced together the story Hop was telling her. Just then, Tamaria’s door slid opened. “What is that racket?” she asked groggily. Her eyes fell on the silver protocall droid. “Oh, its YOU.”

            “Dr. Medra, how delightful to see you again.”

            “Go away Hop.”

            “Well, now that you’re up ma’am, I need to go inform Lieutenant Kinkaid.” And the droid scuttled out.

            Tamaria sat down at the table and buried her head in her arms.

            “Hop says that they’re going to put us back on the planet in about an hour.”

            “Mmmph.”

            “What’s your problem?”

            “Mmmph.”

            “You always were a slug.”

            Tamaria finally looked up. “Did you sleep in that sweatshirt last night?”

            Shelia looked confused at the non-sequetor. “Yes, why?”

            Tamaria groaned, “Why don’t you just marry him now?”

            She slapped her sister on the arm. “Tamaria! You’re such a kvetch.”

            “Mmph.”

            “Come on, Hop made caf. You should have some.”

            Tamaria shot upright. “Oh stars, you haven’t had some yet, have you?”

            “No why?”

            “They reprogrammed him. Let the caf sit for an hour an you can stand utensils up in it. It would eat through transpirsteel.”

            Shelia laughed. “It can’t be that bad.” She got up and poured herself a cup. She took a swig, and nearly spit it back out.

            “I warned you.”

            “How can they drink it so strong?” Shelia was amazed that anyone could stomach the bitter taste.

            “I think its how they survive. Tom probably drinks a pot a day.”

            Shelia grimaced. She could only wonder what that did to a stomach lining. “Well, come on, lets get dressed.”

 

            Davis drained his glass. He was on his second cup of the morning, at it wasn’t yet 0900. It was going to be a long day. He was standing over the tactical display in his private command room, meeting with Kieller, Commadore Szycho, the Pride’s executive officer, Colonel Edmonton, and Lt. Commander Olav Torks, head of the sector’s ISB and Intelligence apparatus. They were going over the latest intelligence. They seemed to have narrowed down a list of possible hiding places for the pirate forces. With every passing attack, the enemy gave them more intelligence to work with, and informants became more willing to speak with every passing civilian death. He looked at the crono on the wall.

            “Set this scenario up to game again. I’ll be back in 15.”

            “Aye, aye sir.”

            Davis strode down the hallway, and caught a turbolift to the hanger. He tapped impatiently on the floor as the lift slid down from the bridge to the hanger level. The doors slid open, and Davis began weaving his way through the crowded hangar deck, ignoring the men snapping to attention. The Lambda class shuttles were are parked in a row near the front of the hanger, including one with an expanding grease spot underneath it and cabling running to and from it. That would be the Rogue’s Escape, his personal shuttle, he’d had it since his days at the Academy. Heavily modified, it was always in some state of disrepair. Somewhere in the TIE fighter hanger, was his personal blue and red painted Interceptor. At least the fighter got maintained by the mechanics, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the laser cannons shorting out at the wrong time.

            The pilot was holding the shuttle he was looking for, arguing about something with the crew chief, leaving Davis free to sneak aboard for a moment.

            The two officers, sitting up in the front of the shuttle, saw the Admiral first, and rose to stand at attention, but he waved them down. Attracted by movment, Shelia looked up.  “Tom!” she stood up in surpise. “I didn’t think you were going to make it down.”

            “Well, when you run the meetings, you get to decide when to end them.” Tom smiled. She laughed.

            “Such a rogue,”

            “I know.” He held out his hand, and she grabbed it. He squeezed it. “Take care.”

            “I will. You be careful out there. Be safe,”

            “I’m on board a Star Destroyer. Unless the Rebel Alliance shows up with a couple of Mon Calamari cruisers and some X-wings, I think I’m safe.”

            “Be careful anyway. If you get hurt, it will go badly for you.”

            “I’m sure.”

            “I’m serious. I don’t give my heart out to just anyone. If you break it I will hurt you.”

            Tom’s heart caught in his throat at that. “Well,” he replied. “Since you have entrusted with such a priceless possession, I will do whatever I can. I would never break such a valuable object.”

            Shelia blushed. “You have such a way with words.”

            “Well, I do write my own speeches.” He grinned.

            “You’re such a dork.”

            Davis shrugged, “Eh,” he grinned, “You’ll put up with me anyway. I mean, I don’t lend out my sweatshirt to just anyone.”

            She threw her arms around his neck, with a bear hug. “You be careful out there, Tom Davis. Come back to me in one piece.”

            “Aye, aye ma’am.” He kissed her softly, and let her go. “I’ve gotta get going. Contrary to popular opinion, I do have work to do.”

            “Well, go do good.”

            “Okay.”

            He turned to go. He stopped at the top of the ramp. “Oh yes,” he turned back. “The Governor of Parkpia is giving a formal something or other, in a couple of weekends. I really have no desire to go, but Farl tells me I have to go to these things.”

            “Yes, I would imagine that would a good idea.”

            “In any case, would you like to go with me?”

            “Me?”

            “Well, yes. It is traditional for one to take a date to these sorts of functions.”

            “Well, okay…”

            “Hopefully, this whole mess with the priates will be resovled to the point where I’ll be able to take the time off. I’m still not sure I’ll be able to. If I go, will you go with me?”

            “I don’t have anything to wear!”

            “Tamaria can help you, she’s been to these sorts of things before. I’ll even buy you a dress.”

            “Well…”

            “I’ve gotta go. I’ll write you and we’ll work it out. I think we’re going to be getting underway before today’s over. Take care.”

            “You too.”

            And with that, he was gone.

           

            The two officers who had been waiting for the shuttle to depart, looked at each other in disbelief. If they hadn’t heard and seen the exchange in the cabin of the shuttle, they would not have believed it. How were they going to tell anyone else?

 

            “He just…”

            “Yes.”

            “And I just…”

            “Yes.”

            “HOW AM I GOING TO DO THIS?” Shelia shrieked.

            “Calm down, sister of mine.” Tamaria smirked. “Between Fiona and I, we’ll get you all set. And besides, he offered to pay for a dress. Never, ever, turn down a free dress. Its in the female code.”

            “My stars, Tamaria, there’ll be people there.”

            “Well, you generally can’t have a party without them.”

            “No, like REAL people! Important people! The Governor of my planet!”

            “He’s not that exciting, trust me.”

            “Tamaria! I’m a high school teacher! I’m not supposed to do these kind of things! I don’t know how to handle it! I don’t even know how to dance!”

            “Calm down, this is what you have sisters for. Just chill. And enjoy the view.” She pointed out the window. The Pride of Carida hung in their view port, growing smaller.

            “It looks so small from here.”

            “1.6 kilometers. That’s the distance from your apartment to the downtown.” Shelia shook her head in disbelief. “Enough firepower to slag the planet. Not that anyone would want to. But isn’t it nice to know you can?” Tamaria snorted.

            “Tom told me a story of working in the Corellian sector with a fleet of six. I can’t imagine that kind of firepower.”

            “The Empire’s still pretty big, even if the Rebels have been nibbing at it for a couple of years now. I’d love to go out and see it all someday. I always pick the Admiral’s brain whenever we’re at these functions, try to find out what life is like on Coruscant. He always hates these things. You must be doing something right if he’s excited about going to this. Maybe he’ll even dig out his dress uniform. He always shows up in his day uniform.”

            “Dress uniform?”

            “I’ve heard its spectacular.”

 

 

            The shuttle touched down in the Parkpia spaceport, and it was still early morning. The two officers who were with them on this flight got up and left without speaking, meeting other officers on the ground, and exchanging salutes. Shelia and Tamaria made their way down to the ground, a voice called. “Miss Medra?”

            Shelia turned and found the same black clad officer who had led the squad of stormtroopers to her apartment the previous night. Had it been only last night? It felt like ages ago. Shelia strained her memory of the little exposure she’d had to the Imperial rank tab system in the past 24 hours. “Yes…Lieutenant?” she said hesitantly, and he smiled. Shelia sighed in relief.

            “Ma’am, I’m Lieutenant Bryne. I’ll be in charge of your security detail. If you ladies would follow me, we’ll take you back to your apartments.”

            “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Shelia was still a little uncomfortable with the idea of a security detail. They followed him outside the spaceport, to a waiting speeder sedan. The

Lieutenant Bryne held the door, before getting in the passenger area.

            “I trust you had a nice evening ladies.” Shelia nodded. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I’m supposed to brief you on security measures, Miss Medra.”

            “Security measures?”

            “Yes, ma’am. These are particularly dangerous times, and unfortunately, you’ve just been made a high profile target. We have to guard against the possibility that you could be used as leverage, forgive me for being so blunt, ma’am.”

            “Leverage?”

            “He means, dear sister of mine, they want to prevent someone from kidnapping you and using you as a bargaining chip with your boyfriend…who just happens to be the commander of this sector. In case you’ve forgotten.”

            Shelia glared at her sister, but internally, she was rocking on her heels. She’d never thought of that before. Well, you haven’t had a lot of time to think…and these people get paid to think of doomsday scenarios.

            “What kind of measures have you taken?”

            “Well, first of all, we’ve rented the apartment across the hall from yours, fortunately, it was being vacated as you know.” Shelia nodded, her neighbor, Mr. Stackpole, had recently take a job in another city. “We’ve set up video surveillance of all the approaches to your apartment, and there’ll be five guards in that apartment at all times, in case of emergency. Two plainclothes security officers will accompany you wherever you go. And finally, you’ll take this.” Bryne handed over a small black object with a large button. “This is a panic button. If you’re ever in trouble, hit the button, and you’ll get enough help to bring down the Rebel Alliance.” Bryne grinned. Shelia took the object. It was about the same size as her comlink, and had a key ring attachment. She could hook it right to her ring, and have with her at all times.

            “So, your men will be across the hall at all times, when I’m in my apartment, and when I go out, I’ll have two men following me?”

            “Well, not necessarily men. We are transferring several women agents in from other areas, to help them blend in more, and to make you more comfortable.”

            Shelia nodded. That did make her more comfortable. “When you say you’ll be surveying the approaches, what does that mean?”

            “The roof, the hallway, cameras mounted on the windows, and the porch. We’ll respect your privacy as much as possible. You won’t even know we’re there most of the time.”

            Shelia nodded. She could live with this. She could do this. She took a deep breath, and looked at Tamaria. Tam smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “You can do this.” She told her.

            They dropped Tamaria off at her apartment, and then Bryne took Shelia to her apartment. As she got out, there were one or two photographers, who took a few pictures of her being escorted up by Byrne, but the presence of two armed stormtroopers on either side of the main entrance discouraged them from mobbing her and barraging her with questions. Shelia noticed the scorch marks on the pavement where the shuttle had landed last night. She finally let her self into her apartment, and as she entered, Bryne had parting wisdom for her.

            “If you need anything, we’re across the hall. And oh, we took the liberty of rerouting your apartment com through our system, incase we ever need to trace a call. The other advantage is we’re screening out about 90% of the journalists. We’re taking messages, if you ever decide to answer them.”

            “Burn the messages,” Shelia answered wearily.

            Bryne smiled slightly, and Shelia wondered if security officers were allowed to laugh. “So, you can feel confident in answering the com. Chances are it’s a friend or family.”

            “Thank you Lieutenant.”

            He waved a hand to indicate it wasn’t a big deal. “If you need anything.”

            “Yes.” He turned and entered the apartment across the hall. Shelia caught a glimpse of men sitting at consoles and drinking caf. She sighed and collapsed on her coutch. She leaned her head back. “What a day.” She sighed. And then she got up to make some breakfast. She checked her messages from her personal comlink. Only her parents, his sisters, and one or two of her close friends, and now Tom, she reminded herself, had this frequency. There were five messages. She listened. Two were from Fiona, and the rest from her parents. She sighed. She checked the messages on her apartment com. True to his word, only three or four of the 30 some odd messages were from reporters, which she deleted. The rest were from friends who were worried about her, and five of them were from her parents. She didn’t want to deal with that today. Maybe tomorrow…

 

           

            Davis watched the stars flash by his view port as he crashed into his new couch in his cabin. He swirled amber liquid in his glass. He knew he should be thinking about the pirates, but instead, he was ticking off a list of things he needed to do for the Gala on Parkpia.   He needed to have his dress uniform checked. Chances were good it needed cleaning. It might even need minor alterations, the little voice in his head that frequently reminded him to get more exercise scolded him. Davis grimaced. That wasn’t unlikely. He should spend some quality time and put the Escape back in flying condition, so he could pick her up in style. He also needed to make sure that she got a dress she liked. That last thought sent him to the computer console.

 

            Shelia heard her computer console chime as she sat down to a dinner by herself, watching a romantic comedy on the holo. She got up to check it.

 

            Dear Shelia,

 

            I realize I may have thrown that invitation on you a little quickly, but I wanted to be sure you would have time to get a proper dress for the event. I know whatever you pick out is going to be beautiful on you. And I did offer to pay for it, after all. If you pick a day to go shopping, and let me know, I’ll call ahead to the store you’d like to go to, and make arrangements to have whatever you pick out to be charged to my account. I’m sure you’ll need shoes and whatever. Surprise me. This is the first time I’ve looked forward to an event like this since…well, since I don’t know when. I used to enjoy Gala’s at the Academy, but that was because I got to watch all the cadets having a good time, for once. And I would generally have the company of the other instructors, who made far better conversation that the politicians out here.

            Its been a long day, and I miss you already. I don’t know how this will all turn out. I might try to call tomorrow sometime, but it will depend on how the meetings go tomorrow after noon. I’m going to try and get some sleep now. I’m pretty tired, and as you told me, I wouldn’t want to get everyone killed because I was asleep at the switch.

 

            Affectionately,

 

            Tom

 

            Shelia smiled and inhaled the scent of Tom’s sweatshirt, before curling back up on the couch to watch her movie.

 

            Shelia got dressed the next morning, and made breakfast. After making up a plate of biscuits, she took some across the hall to the very surprised and grateful surveillance team, and was rewarded with rare smiles from the security officers.

            “I should really go see my parents today,” she told the officer in charge, as they sat at the table in the apartment across the hall. “I don’t have a speeder. I generally take public transportation. Can I keep doing that?”

            “Of course, Miss Medra. We don’t want to intrude too much on life, we understand how disruptive this can be. We won’t ask you to alter your habits, unless we have cause to belive they’ve been compromised.” Shelia nodded. “Gravis and Karla are going to be your escorts for today,” he waved his hand to the man and woman in civilian dress sitting at the counter, munching on some bisucuits. Shelia looked at her crono.

            “Well, temple’s at 11:30, so I need to get going if I’m going to catch them afterwards.”

            “Well, have a nice day then.”

            Shelia left, followed closely by Gravis and Karla, but you wouldn’t really know they were following her, if you weren’t paying attention. Gravis spend most of his time reading the morning’s newspaper, as he walked twenty or so paces in front of her, while Karla chatted animatedly on a comlink, attracting enough attention for three people. If Shelia hadn’t known she was being tailed, she never would have guessed herself. They waited patiently for the hoverbus, and they never spoke, there was nothing to suggest they even knew each other. They really are good at this, Shelia thought.

            Once on the bus, Shelia sat in her usual place near the middle, while Karla took a seat near the front. Gravis stood near the back of the crowded bus. They got off at the Temple, just as the service was starting, and Shelia slipped in the back. Gravis took a seat about midway up, while Karla loitered outside.

            She worked her way through the familiar service by rote, trying to avoid being noticed, but she was not entirely successful. She’d been coming here for years, and everyone recognized her. When the service let out, she could tell that a few people wanted to talk to her, but were nervous. Shelia herself was nervous, and as if sensing that nervousness, Gravis had reappeared, and had abandoned the incognito routine, and was doing his very best at looking menacing just behind her shoulder, while Karla worked the crowd for threats.

            “Shelia!” It was Nikki, her childhood friend, who now was corralling three children, all under the age of 5. She came up to give her a hug, and Shelia favored her with a smile. “Are you alright?” she whispered.

            “I’m fine,” she replied.

            “How long has this been going on?” Nikki grinned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “Nikki, honestly, I didn’t know until last night. We met about a month ago. He was incognito at the time, just trying to get away from the responsibilities for a little while. We’ve exchanged letters. He was coming over the other night to tell me the truth. I didn’t have a clue.” Nikki shook her head.

            “Well, I’ll bet it was quite a shock.”

            “Yes, for both of us, actually.”

            “So…” Nikki cocked an eyebrow.

            “What?”

            “How are things? Did it turn out okay?”

            “Well, we’re taking things slowly, see how things go.”

            Nikki smiled broadly. “I’m so happy for you! That’s wonderful news. Is that what the muscle is for?” she asked, shifting the baby on her hip.

            “Yeah. They take security pretty seriously. And they’re nervous with this whole pirate thing.”

            Nikki’s expression turned sour. “Billo is very upset about the convoy system. He says he’s losing money hand over fist,” she said, referring to her husband, who ran a wealthy import/export business.

            “Which would he rather lose, money or an entire ship?”

            “You try explaining that to him. I’ve already tried.”

            Shelia shook her head. “Well, its been nice Nikki. We should get together sometime, and catch up. But right now I have to find my parents and let them know I’m still alive.”

            “Oh stars…good luck with that hon. Good thing you’ve got the muscle, right?”

            Shelia sighed. “Yeah. Good to see you.”

            “You too.”

            Shelia made her way through the crowd, finally spotting the burly figure of her father through the crowd. The crowd seemed to part as she made her way through it, whispers in her wake.

            “Hi daddy!” she said cheerfully, kissing him on the cheek. Despite their differences, she really did love her family.

            “Shelia!” Her mother enveloped her in a hug. “We were so worried about you! Are you alright?”

            “I’m fine Mom.”

            “We couldn’t get through last night and…”

            “I stopped answering the apartment com, there were too many reporters calling. And I left my personal comm. behind by accident when the emergency happened. Look, why don’t we go back to the house, and I’ll tell you all about it.” Shelia said, conscious of a gathering crowed. Her father had noticed too, and glowered at the people gathering around. He loved the idea.

            “I think that’s a fine idea. I’d rather not make a scene,” her father still managed to look mad, even while agreeing with her.

            “Lead the way. Did you bring the car?”

            “No, we walked.”

            “Good, I was afraid their wouldn’t be room.”

            “Why dear?” her mother asked. She wasn’t as quick on the uptake as her father, who was already eyeing Gravis warily.

            “Never mind that Brima, I’ll explain when we get home.” Her father told told her mother.

            They walked in silence, until free of the crowd around the temple. It was only a few blocks to her girlhood home. Once free of the crowd, and relatively alone, her father spoke.

            “Who are your friends Shelia?” her father wasn’t known for his tact. Her mother looked up startled.

            “They’re a security detail, Dad. With all that’s going on, they decided I needed one.”

            “Why?”

            “Because if someone kidnapped me, I could be used as leverage against Tom. Stars father, you have a doctorate, you could have figured that one out.” She was starting to get annoyed with her father’s attitude. He grunted in return.

            “So how long have you been hiding this from your mother and I?”

            “Lindersgog!” Her mother scolded him. “Shelia wouldn’t hid it from us on purpose. Would you dear?”

            “No mom, I would never do that. We’d only just met.” Shelia went on to explain the story as they walked home. They were just reaching the house as she finished. “And Lieutenant Bryne dropped me back at my apartment yesterday morning. I was too tired to deal with the messages, I made some food and slept most of the day.”

            “You poor dear. What an ordeal!” her mother exclaimed. Her father hurumphed, and cleared his throat, and turned to Gravis and Karla, trailing not far behind. “You’re welcome to come in, obviously, if you want to.”

            Gravis nodded. “Karla will come in, sir. I’ll be out here.”

            Her father rolled his eyes, and held the door for the three women. “Would you like some tea my dear?”

            “Yes Mom.”

            “And you?” she turned to Karla.

            “No, ma’am.”

            Karla did her best to take up a position on the wall and melt into the wallpaper pattern.

            “So I take it you’re going to see this renegade again?” her father asked, as they sat down in the living room.

            “Tom’s not a renegade father,” she argued.

            “Believe what you like, my dear, but mark my words, that man will be nothing but trouble. Imperial Admirals don’t get sent this far out for their health. No, something’s fishy here. I’ve been hearing rumors at the Academy that this Admiral of yours has been exiled out here and that this is a punishment detail. If that’s the case, when the Empire finds out what he’s doing out here, they’ll hunt him down and arrest him. No, sir, I don’t trust the man. And I don’t think you should be seeing him. He’s trouble.”

            Shelia sighed. “Daddy…”

            “Your father might be exaggerating a little, honey, but don’t you think you should be a little more careful? Who knows what this man is up to? Spacers aren’t exactly the most trustworthy men.”

            “Mother, you’ve been reading too many pulp fiction novels. I’m sure that Tom doesn’t have a girl in every port. If he did, don’t you think the sludge journalists would have reported it by now? I don’t have to worry about him cheating on me mother, I’d find out in real time.”

            “So you intend to go through with this then, and see this man?” her father again.

            “I don’t really see a reason not to. He’s wonderful to talk to. I really think you’d enjoy talking with him dad. He’s quite brilliant.”

            “Shelia, you have your career to consider. Can you imagine what this kind of attention is going to do to you? You’re not going to have a moment’s privacy. People shadowing your every footstep. It will be like living in a fishbowl. Not to mention that it requires having a baby sitter twenty four hours a day.” Her father said, waving his hand at Karla. “This is a bad idea Shelia. I don’t want you seeing him.”

            “Daddy, this is MY life, and I live it how I please. I’m 28 years old, and I don’t even live under your roof anymore. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t see. I think you should just give him a chance, Daddy. Please, for me?”

            There was a long silence.

            “Well,” her mother began. “If you feel that strongly about it, we’ll trust you judgment dear. We’re only looking out for you, after all. I would like to meet him at some point…” her mother hinted.

            “I’ll see what I can do, Mom. He’s pretty busy, but I’m sure we can work out something.” Her father snorted, and her mother, bless her, glared at him until he looked suitable ashamed. He got up and went to his study.

            “Don’t mind him dear, he’s just worried about you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt.”

            “I would have thought he’d be happy I’d finally met a nice man, like Fiona did.”

            “Your sister married a local man, dear. I’m afraid your father dosen’t like Off-Worlders that much.” Shelia shook her head and sighed. “Come help me in the kitchen dear, and tell me how school is going.”

 

            When Shelia finally arrived home that evening, she bid good night to Gravis and Karla, and sagged onto her couch. Her meeting with her parents had gone about as well as could be expected, under the circumstances. Now she just had to see what would happen tomorrow at work. She was not looking forward to this experience. She pulled out a datapad and began composing her recap of today’s events for Tom.

 

 

            …so, about as well as expected.

            I really should head to bed, since I have work in the morning. Take care, be safe.

 

                        Affectionately,

 

                        Shelia

 

           

            Tom slapped off his display, and downed the rest of his first cup of caf for the day, before straightening his uniform and heading for the bridge.

            “Attention on Deck!”

            “As you were,” Davis waved the men back to their seats, and settled into the bridge chair. “Well, Commodore, what do we have on tap for today?”

            Davis and his Executive Officer exchanged wary glances. It was no secret they didn’t like each other very much.

            “Well, sir. We’re running a fairly normal schedule today, heavier patrols than usual. We’re also planning a com test for later this afternoon.”

            “Very well, Commodore. Captain?”

            “Well, sir, we have a meeting with Intelligence in about a standard time part, and after that, another planning session.”

            “Nothing until then?”

            “Your Monday morning security briefing?”

            “Oh yes, its Monday isn’t it…loosing track of time. Very well then.” Davis stood, “Lead the way Captain.”

            “Aye, sir.”

 

            Davis settled into the chair at the head of the conference room table, Kieller settling in nearby, with his datapad out. Lieutenant Commander Torkes came in, accompanied by a low-level security officer. Torkes was head of military intellignance, a division of the Imperial Security Bureau.

            “Good morning, sir.”

            “Good morning, Commander.”

            “Sir, this morning we’ve had some unusual activity.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yes sir.” Torkes nodded to the junior officer, who plugged his datapad into the room’s holo projector. A series of faces came up.

            “We have identified these men loitering around the Governor’s palace on Urbia. Several of these men match composite sketches made of suspects in the attack on the Governor’s palace on Hallicorn. We have begun tailing these men, in the hopes of tracing them back to their base of operations.”

            “Excellent work, Commander.” Davis was impressed.

            “Thank you Admiral. We have preliminarily identified several possible locations, and most tellingly, this shuttle here.” A grainy low light holo appeared on the screen. It was a modified space yacht, common in the area. “As you can see, its profile matches the one of the ship that we believe may have seeded the pulse mass mines.” The in-flight camera recording from the ill fated flight appeared as a side by side companion. There were remarkable similarities, at least at this detail. “This is all very preliminary, and we’re working on firming it up.”

            “This is excellent news Commander.”

            “We hope to have more for your Intelligence briefing later, but we thought that it was best to get whatever we had to you as soon as possible, and since it all tied together with Security…”

            “I understand Commander, this is very good work.”

            Torkes beamed. “Thank you sir.”

            “Is there anything else?”

            “Yes sir, Lieutenant Bryne here will brief you on Miss Medra’s security arrangements.”

            “Ah yes, one moment then. Patrick?”

            “Yes sir?”

            “Cut some warning orders, I want Major Krenick’s commandos on alert.”

            “Aye sir.”

            “Now, you were saying, Lieutenant…?”

 

            Shelia walked to work in the morning, and she noticed a few stares as she entered the building. The principal was waiting for her in her room.

            “Shelia, good morning.”

            “Good morning, Mr. Jamison.”

            “I hope your doing alright this morning.”

            “Just fine, thank you.”

            He hesitated. “I got a call from Imperial Security last night at home…” he seemed hesitant to go on.

            “Yes?”

            “Shelia, I’d like to think that we are a supportive environment for our employees…you’re not in any kind of trouble are you?”

            Shelia laughed. “No, Mr. Jamison! Why do you ask?” Shelia knew why, but he wanted to hear about what he thought.

            “Well, I’ve been away all weekend, and last night I’m getting ready for bed, and Imperial Security calls me and tells me that you’ll be having a couple of security agents following you around, and they’ll do their best to stay out of the way, yadda, yadda, yadda. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t in any kind of trouble,” He said, eying warily as Karla came into the room just at the end of his question.

            “No, I’m not. Mr. Jamison, this is Karla, one of my…what do you call yourseleves? Officers? Agents?”

            “Agents. Agent Karla Augustdottir, Imperial Security Bureau.” Karla shook his hand.

            Jamison looked confused. “I’m not sure I understand what’s going on.”

            “We’re Miss Medra’s protection detail.”

            “It’s a long story, Mr. Jamison, but what it boils down to…well, long story short. I’m dating Tom Davis.”

            “As in, Admiral Davis?”

            “Yes.” Principal Jamison looked even more confused.

            “This happened over the weekend?”

            “In a way, yes. It’s a very long story.”

            “So, they’re here to…”

            “They’re here to make sure no one kidnaps me to get at Tom.”

            “I think I’m beginning to understand.” Mr. Jamison nodded. “Well, I don’t really anticipate there being any problems, Agent Augustodottir.”

            “We’ll do our best to stay out of the way, Mr. Jamison.”

            “I’m sure we’ll do our best to stay out of your way.”  The morning bell rang.

            “Well, have a good day, Shelia, and congratulations, I guess.”

            “Thank you,” Mr. Jamison left as students filed in. They uniformly stared at her as she sighed and gathered her lesson plans.

            “Please take your seats, and put away your books, your test is coming now.”

 

            By lunchtime, Shelia was frazzled. Her students had uniformly been unlike Mr. Jamison, in that they knew about what had happened over the weekend. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take the whispering and the staring. So when she opened the door into the teachers lounge and the conversation suddenly halted, she lost it.

            “Okay, if I could have everyone’s attention please?

            “Yes, Tom Davis came to my house Friday night. We met in the marketplace about a month ago, and at the time, he was visiting under an assumed name to get away from the sludge journalists for a little while and just be himself. We had a wonderful time, and I told him he could see me again. He came to my house last Friday to tell me the truth about who he was, when some sludge journalists showed up and ruined it. Then, there was a security emergency when General Vincent’s shuttle was shot down, and that’s why we got dragged to the Pride of Carida. Tom and I are going to try to make something work between us, because we both enjoy each other’s company. Yes, the woman following me around is a security agent to keep an eye at me. There’s another agent nearby, I don’t know where he is.

            “I’m sick of you all going silent when I walk into a room. I’ve told you everything. If have any questions please ask me. Please don’t speculate behind my back. I’m still the same person I was last Friday. I haven’t grown an extra head.”

            She sat down at a table and put her head on her hands. There was a stunned silence in the teachers room. Karla stood by the door, impassively.

            Mrs. Richardson, the wise old Home Economics teacher came over to the table, and put her arm around Shelia.

            “There, there dear. I understand how you feel. Back when I started teaching, it wasn’t even allowed for us to marry. So when I was seen with a man in the marketplace, everyone whispered behind my back too. Fortunately, times were changing back then, and it became acceptable for us to date and marry.”

            “Ruth, its just like I’ve suddenly lost control of my own life. I mean, Tom’s a great guy, I just wish I could have him, without all…”she waved her arm around the room. “This. This baggage.”

            Mrs. Robinson nodded. “Well, hopefully people will lose interest soon.”

            Just then, Shelia’s friend Hillary, a science teacher came in and spotted her.

            “Damn, girl, you had a busy weekend.” She took a seat at the table. “Why so glum?”

            “She’s feeling a little overwhelmed by all the attention.” Mrs. Robinson patted Shelia on the shoulder. “I’ve got to get ready for class.”

            “What’s up, hun?”

            “The students are whispering and staring, everybody goes silent when I walk in a room. I really like Tom, but I’m not sure I can handle this. I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

            “Oh, come off it girlfriend! You’re living the high life! I’m sure he’s a great guy. And this will all go away. The kids? They’re just scared you’re going to have their house wiped out. These clowns? They’re jealous.”

            Shelia smiled. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

            “You know it. Now, dish sista.”

            “What?”

            “C’mon tell me everything…”

            “Well,” Shelia regaled her story. “…and so I’ve gotta get a dress, and I really want to do something nice for him, since he’s getting the dress for me.”

            Hillary looked thoughtful for a moment. “Humm…where did you say he’s from?”

            “He was born on Coruscant, but he says he’s more Corellian than anything else.”

            “Well, chances are, there will be dancing at this thing.”

            “Right.”

            “So, learn some Corellian dances. I’m sure he has some control over the music, or someone will want to impress him with his kind of music, and you’ll know how to dance.”

            “Where am I going to learn traditional Corellian dances?” Shelia asked.

            Hillary paused. “I’m not sure, but we’ll think of something. You could try asking the Admiral’s aid.”

            “Lieutenant Kinkaid? Why him?”

            “He might be able to find you someone from the Core Worlds who could teach you dancing.”

            “I suppose.” 

            “Ask your sisters too, they might know someone.”

            “I will.”

            Hillary looked up at the crono on the wall, and stood up. “Back to the lab. See you after school?”

            “I’ve got tests to grade, so I’ll be around for a little while.”

            “Oh joy. What on?”

            “Integration, from my calc class.”

            “Fun.”

 

            Davis looked at the surveillance camera footage at the shuttle parked in the Urbia spaceport. A detailed analysis from Intelligence had indicated that it was indeed the same shuttle that had seeded the pulse mass mines in the attack on Vincent’s shuttle. Davis’s mind began forming a plan in his head, but it was contingent on how this went. The picture was fuzzy, because it was nighttime on Urbia, and it was being beamed via hypercomm to a spot just outside the Urbia system. They hadn’t wanted flush their prey too early. Right now, the men on the shuttle were being tailed. Davis had made a very public tour of the makeshift shipyard on Halicorn where privately held freighters were being armed for convoy duty. Now he hoped these men would be lulled into a false sense of security. So far, so good. On Urbia, the scene at the spaceport was much the same, where privately held freighters were being stripped down, and turbolaser emplacements were being mounted on the outsides, as well as lighter laser cannon emplacements for engaging small snubfigthers.

            Davis watched the screen. He could make out a man entering the ship.

            “…subject 1 is entering the ship.”

            They were listening to tactical frequency of Major Krenick’s commandos. They couldn’t talk back. Davis wanted it that way, less temptation to micromanage. His orders for now were to wait, and observe.

            “Subjects 2+5 are leaving the ship. Three, Four, stay with them.”

            Clicks on the line indicated acceptance of the order. “If we can identify who they’re meeting with, we may be able to identify the leak. Most of the ships hit have been traveling between Urbia and Hallicorn, so it may be someone in the Urbia government, or spaceport control.” Torkes said, watching the tactical display carefully. Davis nodded.

            There was silence on the frequency for a long time.

            “One, this is Three. Subjects are entering The Dirtside, looks like the local dive.”

            “Stay with them.”

            A highlight appeared on the tactical screen, highlighting the address of the Dirtside. Davis looked thoughtfully at the map, and its proximity to other locations.

            “One, Four. Subjects just claimed a booth at the back. We have them under surveillance. They appear to waiting for someone.”

            “Try and get an ID if anyone shows up. Seven, Eight, go back up Three and Four. We’ll try and tail whoever shows up for a meeting.”

            Clicks in acknowledgement, and dots on the tac display were moving. There was a heavy silence in the situation room.

            “One, this is Seven, we’re in position.”

            “One, Three, we’ve got a mark. He’s just bought a drink at the bar, and he’s eyeing the patrons. He’s spotted our subjects, and is going to join them. Trying a face capture now.”

            There was a pause, and data began feeding from the commando’s datalink. Torkes keyed it over and a picture sprang up on the holo, and the computer immediately began running a face recognition program.

            “One, this is Seven. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Something’s not right here.”

            The data program clicked, and the face matched. It was the senior spaceport controller. One of the three people who was aware of the arrival of a shuttle from the Pride of Carida. “Kriff!” Torkes swore, reaching for the comm., but it was too late.

            “One, three, Subject 2 just got on his com link…sith we’ve been made!” Blaster fire in the background. “Code Omega. Take it down!”

            On the tactical display, things began moving rapidly. The dots representing the commandos began moving. On the fuzzy picture, Davis saw rapidly moving black clad figures run into the docking bay with their rifles ready. There was a flash, as one figure tossed a canister up the docking ramp of the shuttle. Blaster fire flared in the low light camera.

            “This is Three, we’re taking heavy fire. Need assistance.”

            “Three, Seven, we’re on it.”

            “Fire in the hole!”

            “Clear!”

            “Five, take it in.”

            “Roger.”

            “One, Six, we’re in the main room of the shuttle. Nobody so far.”

            “Two, you’re with me, we’ll take the cockpit. Five, Six, take the hold, Three, call in the militia if you need back up, we’re tied down here.”

            “One, Ten. We could go.”

            “No, Ten, I want you and Nine on over watch, in case these guys have back up. We haven’t accounted for them all yet.”

            Blaster fire over the com.

            “Sith!”

            “I can’t see him.”

            “He’s behind that big box thing.”

            “Got a flashbang? On my mark…three, two, one, Go!”

            An explosion, more blaster fire. “One, this is Five. We have three subjects down in the hold, no casualties.”

            “Cockpit’s clear. Are they alive?”

            “Roger that. Sleeping like babies.”

            “Three, are you still with us?”

            “Busy, One”

            “One, Seven, Three and Four are pinned down across from us, we’ve got good cover, and so do the subjects, but Three and Four are stuck out in the open. We’re trying to get where we can help them, but we can’t even see the subjects from here.”

            “Seven, this is Three, can you get a flashbang in the booth from where you are?”

            “Negative, we’ve got non-coms between us and the target.”

            There was more blaster fire. “Three is hit! Three is down!”

            “Where is all this blaster fire coming from?”

            “Four, this is Seven, you’ve got a hostile at your back!”

            “Get this guy off of me!”

            “I’m on him.”

            Davis listened to the blasterfire on the com.

            “We have subjects down! We have wounded down! Immediate Medvac required.”

            “On its way.”

            Davis turned to Keiller. “Get us underway, immediately.” He turned to Torkes. “Can we keep this under wraps? Keep the media out of it? I don’t want them to know how badly we’ve hurt them.”

            “I’ll get on it.”

 

            Shelia was sitting in her apartment, chatting on the phone with Fiona. “How am going to learn Corellian dances?”

            “I dunno, I don’t know anyone from the Core. I don’t even know anyone who teaches Parkpian dances.”

            The Holocom pinged on the computer console, “Hang on sis, I’ve got a holocall coming in.”

            “Okay.”

            She keyed it up. “Shelia Medra.”

            The image, fuzzy and indisticing, suddenly resolved itself. “Hey.”

            “Tom!”

            “How are you?” Static fuzzed the connection.

            “I’m okay, where are you?”

            Tom smiled. “Can’t say.”

            “Hang on a second.” Shelia picked up her comlink. “Gotta go sis. Its Tom.”

            “OOOOOoooo…smoochy smoochey. Later sis.”

            “So how are you?”

            “Better than I was a couple hours ago, but I can’t really talk about any of that over the com. Security and everything. When all this is over, maybe.”

            Shelia nodded. “So why did you call?”

            “Just to let you know I was safe, and to see how you were doing. Got a day to go dress shopping yet?”

            “I’m thinking this weekend sometime.”

            “Well, let me know where you’re thinking of going, I’ll try and arrange things, so you can get whatever you need. I’m really looking forward to this event.” He grinned, but even through the fuzzy connection, Shelia saw dark circles under his eyes.

            “How much sleep are you getting?”           

            “Sleep is highly overrated.”

            “Eat, sleep. Don’t make me come out there,” she warned. He laughed.

            “Of course.” He replied, “I’ll take care. How was your day at school?”

            “It was weird.” Shelia went on to explain. “On the plus side, attention seems to be waning with everything going on in the sector. There was only one reporter outside my apartment this afternoon.”

            “Well, that’s good news.” Tom turned, as if someone was speaking to him off the screen. He turned back, and the grimness around his eyes was back. “I’ve got to go honey, I’ll try to call again sometime. If you ever want to try and reach me, I’ll send my personal com code next time I write. No guarantee I’ll ever be around, but you can always leave a bright and cheerful message.”

            Shelia smiled. “Okay. Take care, be careful.”

            “As always. You too.”

            “Bye Tom.”

            “Bye Shelia.”

            The image faded out, replaced with the Imperial Fleet sigil, before going black entirely. Shelia sighed. Tom’s use of a pet name for her had not escaped her notice, and it made her inordinately happy. She her smile faded as she thought back to what Tom had said about being safe. She keyed up the local news.

 

            “…Governor Sil’varka today announced that Parkpia was completely safe from pirate attack…”

            Strange, Shelia thought to herself. Tom seemed to indicate there’s been some fighting. Why hasn’t the news picked up on it?

 

            “What do we have from the prisoners, Commander Torkes?”

            “We’ve separated them, and are using the usual interrogation techniques against them, but from the pirates so far, we’ve found nothing. The space port controller, on the other hand, is singing like a canary. He says he started out selling information for cash, since his family was facing eviction from their house. He wanted to stop, but the men he was working for threatened to harm his family or get him fired. He’s told us everything he ever told them, and it checks out. We back checked his story about needing cash, and its true. We also check his bank account, but the money has been moved in from several different accounts, which were only the first stop on the way back to the source. Our slicers are still figuring this one out. What do you want to do with him?”

            “Let him stew for the moment. We’ll figure something out. Obviously, he can’t continue in a sensitive position, but lets figure out something so he at least has some kind employment. He wasn’t guilty of giving out anything classified until he was under duress?”

            “It appears that way. He really didn’t tell them anything they couldn’t have gotten a day later in the registry. He just gave it to them early, which really isn’t illegal, they could have had a spaceport watcher. They were methodical how they did this. They set their hook, then jerked it hard, and had this guy dancing to their tune. He’s a much a victim as anyone.”

            “Let him stew for a while, we’ll need to keep him on ice anyway, since he’s one of the few people who knows what we have going on.”

            “Right.”

            “Speaking of which, Captain, what did the technicians find?”

            “Well, the shuttle was carrying a cargo of 9 pulsemass mines. The markings on them indicate they came from the Hapes cluster. They think, based on residue, that there were 12 to begin with, which matches up with our reports. How they got here, all the way from Hapes, is a mystery.”

            “Indeed,” Davis nodded. “Any luck with the nav ‘puter?”

            “Less luck. It looks as if as we boarded the ship, they managed to perform a surface wipe of the nav computer’s memory, erasing all the coordinates. Technicians are trying to restore the data, if they can, but it may not prove possible.”

            “I understand. So, can we mount these mines in our own shuttle?”

            “Probably, it will take some work. But it can be done, they said.”

            “I want them to get on that right away. This could be the key we’ve been looking for.”

            “Aye sir.”

            Suddenly, one of the communications officers burst into the room. “Admiral! We have a priority one distress signal from Parkpia!”

 

            The pink of dawn was just streaming through the windows, when Shelia was rudely awakened by the muted wail of a high pitched siren. Disoriented, it took her a moment to recognize the sound of an air raid siren. She sat upright in bed, and heard pounding on her door. She got up and tossed her robe on, and opened the door. Karla was standing there.

            “Miss Medra, we should evacuate, if you’ll follow me please.”

            “Can I at least put some pants on?”

            “Hurry.” Shelia ran to her room, and pulled on an old pair of sweats, and Tom’s heavy sweatshirt. When she came back out, she could hear the rumblings of turbolasers back in the direction of the city.

            “This way, we have a car waiting.” Karla directed her down the stairs and out the door, where a dark hover sedan was waiting. Shelia was no sooner into the sedan when it began to move, picking up speed, and engaging a siren.

            “Where are we going?” Shelia asked.

            “We have an evacuation area set up for these emergencies. All dependants of personnel are gathered and brought there,” she replied, scanning the outside of the sedan for threats. Shelia looked back and saw laser fire crisscrossing the sky over Parkpia City.

 

            The Pride of Carida hurtled through hyperspace as fast as its motivators would carry it. Admiral Davis was pacing the bridge. This was the first time the pirates had been so bold as to strike at Parkpia itself. Were they emboldened by recent successes? Or desperate because of their current setbacks? So many questions unanswered, Davis though. Damn the lack of intelligence. There were so many unknown variables that he couldn’t get a handle on. If he had more personell or more assets. Probe droids, for one thing, were a commodity that he did not have. The Imperial prescence hadn’t been well established enough to get a lot of deep cover intelligence agents into the sector. There were a few promising ones, as well as some good contacts, but they were not yet in a postion to provide the kind of intelligence he needed. All that will change if I can just catch them at Parkpia, Davis thought. If I can catch them… Silently, he urged the ship to go faster, knowing it was pointless.

 

            Shelia stood off in corner of the evacuation facility. Around her was a collection of mainly young women like herself, and smattering of small children. There were a few older women, probably mothers of the few Parkpia natives that had joined up with the Imperial service. Those numbers were growing, particularly with the absorption of the Parkipa Planetary Guard into the Imperial Army. She felt out of place and akward. She wasn’t exactly a dependant. She contented herself to watch the crowd, until she noticed a crowd of women standing near a large holoscreen table. She wandered over. The holoscreen was a tactical display of the action. She could discern the blue dots of friendly forces, and the red dots of hostile forces. The table rendered the surface of the planet and the area in orbit over the planet. The table was zoomed into the area of fighting, immeditatly around Parkpia City, and the planet’s only Interstellar class spaceport. There were dozens of pirate starfighters in the area, most of them engaging the surface turbolaser batteries around the spaceport. The Imperials had begun work on a planetary shield generator almost immediately upon arrival, and many of the relay poles for the generator were already up, but the power generators and the grid projector we not yet complete. The pirates must not have known where the Imperials were working on those projectects, Shelia thought, or they would have hit them already. The holoprojector also showed three large ships in orbit. None of them looked particularly military in origin, they were mainly blocky, stout looking cargo ships, modified with hangar decks. Smaller shuttle craft were already on their way to the planet’s surface.

            “Where are they going?” one of the other women wondered outloud.

            “The main credit exchanges, possibly,” a woman responded, and Shelia turned and saw a short woman resting her hand on her blaster holster, dressed in the uniform of an Imperial Naval cadet.

            “Makes sense,” the first concurred.

            Shelia watched a deadly dance on the holoscreen. The fighters knocked out a few turbolaser batteries, and they shot down a few fighters. The shuttles came down, and notations indicated where they had come down, and how long they were there. Most reappeared quickly, some not at all. And as quickly as it had begun, it was over, the pirates were streaming for space. A crono in the corner of the display showed an elapsed time, and it ran about a standard time part. By the time the crono had reached 1:15, the last of the pirate ships winked into hyperspace.

            “They knew where the Pride of Carida was,” the cadet observed. Others murmered in agreement.

            “How do you know that?” Shelia asked her.

            “Because the pirates didn’t linger. They didn’t take any longer than they needed to, the knew exactly when to leave. They knew how much time they had, and didn’t waste a moment of it. In fact, the Pride will probably show up within the hour. If the knew where it was, they could calculate how fast it could get here. They knew their exact window.”

            “You think so?”

            “Know so. This was too well planned.”

            Shelia stared at the holos, showing Imperial troops fanning throughout the city, tying up the last pockets of resitance, pirates who had been stranded by disabled shuttlecraft. The conclusion certainly fit the bill. “What year are you in at the Academy?”

            “My senior year, that’s why we get guard duty like this, ma’am.”

            The woman’s accent was slightly different. “Where are you from?”

            “Urbia, ma’am, Cadet First Class Abigayle Stevens. If you’ll excuse me ma’am,” Cadet Stevens turned away, and went to confer with other members of the guard detail. Shelia turned back in time to see a large blue object pop into existence over the holo. It was the Pride of Carida. Maybe that cadet knew what she was talking about after all, Shelia conceded.

 

            Damn, Damn, double damn, Davis swore to himself, staring down at the planet from the bridge. They had known exactly how to time this raid. Planetside authorities indicated the bulk of the pirates had been gone for only 14 minutes. They’d caught a number of them, and put a dent in their star fighters, but they had demonstrated an ability to strike without warning and at will. They had probably simply waited outside the system until they could confirm our location. Well, we’ll just have to change the rules…somehow.

            “100 civllian casualties. Mainly from falling debris and from the pirates blasting into bank vaults. We’ve got nearly 50 dead pirates, and a handful of live ones. Military casualties are going to run around 200 dead with about 100 more wounded. The pirates strafed the base barracks, in addition to hitting the 10 turbolaser batteries they managed to take out.”

            Davis nodded for Keiller to continue. “Preliminary analysis shows that they tried to hit all 15 major credit exchanges within a 1 mile radius of the spaceport. Only 12 of those attacks were successful. One shuttle was shot down, and crashed downtown. The other two were disabled on the ground by defensive fire, and their crews fought pretty much to the death. We’re waiting to see if we get any intelligence from the captured equipment.”

            “Very well.” Davis sighed. “See if you can have communications patch a holo comm. through to the evacuation point, have it routed to the conference room behind the bridge.”

            “Aye, sir.”

 

            “Miss Medra?” Cadet Stevens was back.

            “Yes?”

            “If you could follow me please,” Stevens waved her forward, and she followed the Cadet down a hallway in the facility, through a door marked “Communications.” “Right over here ma’am.” She gestured toward a com console, where a small hologram of Tom stood on the projector.

            “Hey hon.”

            “Tom! What are you…?”

            “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

            “I’m fine! I got hauled out of my apartment and dragged here! We were miles away from Parkpia City. I’m fine! Don’t you have, I dunno, commanding to do? I would have thought you would have had better things to do?” Shelia was confused. “I mean, I’m not upset or anything, but don’t you…” she looked at him questioningly.

            Tom laughed over the com. “Everything’s under control at the moment. I had a couple of minutes. I also wanted to ask if you wanted to grab some dinner later tonight? We’ll be here cleaning up this mess for at least 24 hours, so I figured you and I could get together. We’ll be doing a shore leave cycle. We were due for one anyway.”

            “Oh…okay…What time?” She asked.

            “Say around 8, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to the officer’s club.”

            “How formal is that?”

            “Not too formal. What you had on that night a couple of weeks ago would be perfect.”

            “Okay.”

            “I’ll see you at 8. I’ve gotta run. I do actually have work to do, I just wanted to check up on you.”

            “Take care.”

            “You too.” He smiled. “Bye hon.”

            “Bye Tom.”

            The transmission dissolved, and Shelia stood. She found that despite the bad day, a wide grin was spreading across her face.

            “Miss Medra?”

            “Yes?”

            “The alert is over, we’re moving everyone back now. Please follow me.” Shelia followed the cadet down a hallway into a waiting sedan.

 

            His afternoon had been long and tiring. He wondered about the wisdom of asking Shelia out, but it was too late now. He had to go. You let you mind get ahead of you, a part of his brain scolded. Should have anticipated spending the afternoon making condolence calls… The worst part was, half of the military personnel who died this day had no families he could contact. They had only minimal contact with the outside world. He recorded messages and forwarded all messages to a remote Imperial communications satellite, but he had no idea if the satellite was even still transmitting, receiving or anything at all. For all he knew, it could so much floating space junk. He picked up some flowers from the little store on the Parkpia base. His motorcade was waiting, and he frowned. He turned to the chief of his on planet security detail. “Do we have to do this with all these vehicles?”

            “Its for your own safety, sir.” Davis grimaced.

            “I’d prefer not to stir up too much trouble. How about the limo and a couple of speeder bikes, running without sirens?” The security officer seemed to pause, and Davis could hear the wheels spinning.

            “We could probably limit it to just the limo, two speeders and a chase car, and yes we could do it without the sirens, sir.”

            “Fine. No sirens on these trips. I’m on a date, not a state visit.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Do security officers EVER smile? Davis wondered.

 

            Shelia was touching up her lipstick when she heard the buzzer ring. She sneaked a peak out the front door and saw the long black limo with command flags on the hood, and her heart skipped a beat. She unlocked the door, and a few moments later, heard a knock on the door. She opened it, and he smiled at her. He looks terrible.

 

            She looks wonderful, he smiled. He held out the flowers. “Hi. I got these for you.”

            She took them, and smiled for a moment at him, before her eyes narrowed at him. “Are you aware you look like you’ve been hit by a hovercar?”

            His shoulders sank, and what little posture he had collapsed in an moment, and he looked even worse. “Is it that noticeable?”

            “I’m afraid so. Why don’t you come in?”

            Tom looked apologetic. “My security detail will get antsy, unfortunetly.”

            “You’re the boss, tell them to stuff it.”

            Tom considered. He reached in his pocket for his comlink. “Major Taylor?”

            “Yes sir?”

            “We’re not leaving right away. Do whatever it is you do in that case.”

            “Sir…” Major Taylor, was as predicted not happy.

            “Major.” Tom’s voice clearly indicated he would not be swayed.

            “Aye sir.”

            Shelia shut the door behind him, as he came and sat down on the couch. She sat down next to him. “You do look terrible, is everything alright?” She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

            “Yes…no…but its nothing you need to worry about.” He sighed and put his face in his hands.

            “Talk to me, please?” Shelia asked quietly.

            “I spent the morning touring the damage.” Shelia nodded silently, and prompted by her silence, he continued. “And then I spent the afternoon calling about 150 families to explain why daddy wasn’t coming home tonight.” He leaned back and closed his eyes tightly. “I’ve been doing this for nearly my whole career, you think it would get easier. But it doesn’t. It never gets any easier.” A solitary tear escaped his tightly squeezed eyelids and rolled down one side of his cheek.

            “Oh Tom,” she pulled his head to her shoulder, and wrapped her arms around him. “Of course it doesn’t get easier. I don’t think you would be the same person if it ever got any easier.”

            “I know.” He sighed, heavily. “I know. I just wish some days…that I didn’t have to ever do it again.”

            “I know.”

            There was a long silence. “I don’t really feel like going to dinner.” Shelia announced.

            “You don’t?”

            “No. I don’t feel like going out. So how about I go into the kitchen, and start some spaghetti, and you pick out a movie to watch.”

            Tom’s eyes came to life again. “You mean, just stay in and watch a movie with you?”

            “Yeah, why not?”

            He blinked. “I don’t see any reason not to.” He reached for his comlink. “Major Taylor, change of plans. We’re going to eat in and watch a movie.”

            “Aye, sir.” The poor major sounded resigned. “I’ll make the proper arrangements.”

            “That’s a good man.”

            “What kind of sauce do you like? I have the meaty kind, the vegatable kind, and a cheese blend.” Shelia called from the kitchen.

            “I prefer the meat sauce.”

            “Okay.”

            He used the computer on the holoplayer to browse through a list of films. Most of them he’d never heard of, but a button brought up a plot synopsis. “The Green and the Gold, hmmm…”

            The Green and the Gold

            An epic tale of love and war in this visual stunning cinematic portrayal of the Parkpian Civil War. Two men, as close as brothers, united by marriage, struggle on opposites sides. One for the People, one for the Rulers. Rated M (For violence, sexual situations, and language.)

            “Intresting.”

            “What’s interesting?” Shelia asked, coming into the living room and handing him a glass of white wine. He took it and swirled it in his glass before sampling it. “This is very good.”

            “Its one of the better wines on Parkpia. What’s interesting?”

            “Oh, the movie, The Green and the Gold.”

            “Stars, I haven’t seen that movie in years. Its very good.”

            “Is it?”

            “Yes, it is. Its sad in the end, though. Most of the main characters end up dead.”

            “Not quite what I’m looking for this evening.”

            “I didn’t think so.” Tom turned back to his search, and Shelia went out to check the food.

            The Shop Next Door

            A delightful romantic comedy about two competing storeowners who romantically involved through an anonymous network dating service.  Rated PG (suggestive dialogue, language)

            “This looks good. Light and fluffy.”

            “Oh yeah, that one is pure fluff,” Shelia said, seeing the movie he had picked out. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

            “Be right there.” Tom let his gaze sweep around the apartment. He never really got a chance to look it over before. He let his eyes linger on the pictures on the wall. He recongnized Tamaria in several, and a third women, who he thought he recognized as Eugune’s mother. There were also pictures of Shelia and children from the school, class pictures. He smiled at one, a candid shot that showed her pointing at something on the projection bored and smiling at her students.

            Shelia was just lighting the candles when he entered the kitchen. The lights were dimmed, and the candles provided a romantic flicker to the lighting.

            “This is nice,” he said, holding the chair out for Shelia. She sat down and he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

            “Your welcome,” she replied. “More wine?”

            “Just a little bit,” he answered. “I shouldn’t have more than two glasses.”

            “Of course.” She poured carefully. “Do you still have work to do tonight?”

            “Yes. I have paperwork to process, and my intelligence chief should have report ready for me when I get back.”

            “It doesn’t end, does it?”

            “Doesn’t seem like it. For a while, it was nice and quiet, and I could actually get in an uninterrupted night’s sleep. Even go play in a TIE fighter simulator for an afternoon and beat up on the new pilots to blow off some stress. Lately, with the crisis and all, I haven’t gotten a decent nights sleep in…well, its been a while. The last time it was this bad was when we first came out here, and had to drive the Wraithhawks off Parkpia and Urbia before we could set up government.”

            “Do you think they have anything to do with these new attacks?” Shelia asked.

            “No,” Tom replied, between mouthfuls. “The style is totally different, and so is the equipment. It’s a new group.” He took another bite. “This is very good, by the way.”

            “Thanks,” Shelia blushed. “I can’t really take to much credit. The sauce is store bought.”

            “Its really very good.” They ate in a comfortable silence. “So tell me about you,” he asked, as the started cleaning up.

            “Well, there’s not much you don’t already know.”

            “That’s not true. Tell me about your family. Where did you go to school? What made you want to teach?”

            She began stacking the dishes in the washer. “Well, I’m the middle child. My older sister, Fiona, is Eugune’s mother. You probably remember him.” Tom grinned. “Tamaria is my younger sister, she’s something of a black sheep, although she inherited the most of my father’s intellect. My father is the Chair of the Science Department at Parkpia University. I enjoyed helping him prepare his lessons when I was younger, and decided that that’s what I wanted to do. My father can be a little old fashioned sometimes, which grates on me and Tamaria more than it does on Fiona who did exactly what Dad wanted, settle down and raise a family. Tamaria’s not interested.”

            “What about you?”

            “Well, its not that I’m not interested, just that I never found the right guy.”

            Sensing a conversation neither was ready for, Tom redirected the conversation. “What about your mom?”

            “She’s a house wife to the core. She fit exactly into Dad’s life view. Don’t get me wrong, they love each other deeply, but somedays I think mom thinks dad’s a little backwards. I don’t know much about my grandparents. I only remember Grandpa Medra vaguly. He was a scientist too. An immigrant of some kind. Medra isn’t a Parkpia name.” Davis nodded. “I went to Parkpia University, and math was my favorite subject, so I decided to teach it. I’ve been and Randal High School for my whole career, which is now going on 5 years.”

            “Impressive.”

            “Oh, come on now, Mr. I Command The Enitre Sector and I’m Only 30 Years Old. You’ve come a lot farther.”

            “Just lucky, in some respects. Surviving your first five missions is usually a matter of luck. My old squadron commander used to tell us we weren’t even allowed to think about the future unless we’d survived our first five missions, because 75% would die in our first five missions. He was right.” Shelia looked at him aghast. “Of the brand new first leuitenants assigned to the squadron, only 2 of us survived our first 5 missions.”

            “What happened to the other guy?”

            “He and I were promoted and sent to different squadrons. He got the cushier job, or so it seemed at the time. He died on board the Death Star.”

            “That’s terrible! You’re the only one who survived from that group?”

            “Honey, I’m one of like a dozen people from the Acadamey graduating class that survived. A large group of them died on board the Death Star. Most of the pilots had been killed. The survivors either already had their own commands, were crewers of some kind, bridge officers, that sort of thing. Or they had defected to the Rebel Alliance.”

            “Did you know anyone like that?”

            “A few. One of my best friends.”

            “Really? That must have been hard on you.”

            “Well, he’d already been court martialed, so we had alreadly lost touch, to a certain degree.”

            “What was his name?” Shelia was curious.

            “You might have heard of him. His name was Han Solo.”

            “You were at the Acadmy with Han Solo?” Shelia’s eyes went wide with surprise.

            “Yeah. He and I were roommates as first years.”

            “That’s incredible.”

            “Yeah.” Tom grunted. “At least he made good. Sort of.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well, the last intelligence report I got said that he hadn’t yet taken a formal rank within the Rebellion, but was highly probably he would. I hoped he would.” Tom seemed to be settling back into the funk he’d arrived in.

            “Why? You might have had to kill him.”

            “I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.” Tom sighed. “I don’t really want to get into all of this tonight Shelia. Can we talk about this some other time? When I’m not already depressed?” His eyes were imploring.

            “Of course Tom, I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

            “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, honey, not at all. I’m just not…not handling it well today. I’m short on sleep.”

            “Well, I think you’ll enjoy the movie.” He grinned at her.

            “I’m looking forward to it.”

            The settled down on the couch, Shelia leaning on his shoulder, his arm around her. It was very cozy, she thought, as she snuggled against the crook of his arm. The movie was funny, and they laughed happily at the hijinks. However, Shelia noticed at some point that Tom’s breathing had leveled out, and he’d stopped laughing.

            “Tom?” she whispered. He didn’t move. “Tom?” a little louder this time. She looked up. His eyes were closed, head leaned back against the couch, mouth hanging open, breathing lightly through his mouth. “You poor thing. Can’t even stay awake for the end of the movie.” Just then his comlink began beeping. Without thinking, Shelia snatched it out of his breast pocket and activated it. “Admiral Davis’s comlink,” she whispered.

            “Miss Medra?” It was Farl, thank the stars.

            “Yes.”

            “Is the Admiral there?”

            “Yes, he is. He’s out like a light. He’s snoring on my couch.”

            There was a chuckle across the line. “Is he drooling yet?”

            “Not yet.” She giggled. Farl turned serious again.

            “He hasn’t been sleeping well lately.”

            “That’s what he said.”

            “He can’t stay there, though. It wouldn’t do…”

            “Of course.” Shelia could connect the dots as well as anyone. “Do you want me to wake him up? Is it important?”

            “No, not really. And I don’t want you to wake him up. Here’s what we’re going to do...”

            A few minutes later, with the aid of repulsor chair, Shelia helped Major Taylor set the Admiral in the limo, and got in. Tom barely stirred, as the limo whisked them back to the base. A repulosr chair helped get him into the VIP apartment building, and up to the third floor. Shelia met Farl there, and between the two of them, they got Tom laid out on the bed. He’d taken his boots off at Shelia’s and they just hadn’t bothered to put them back on, so, Shelia pulled the blanket up around his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Good night Tom. Sleep well.” He stirred in his sleep, and appeared to smile. Shelia tip toed out, and Farl hit the light switch. “Poor man,” she shook her head.

            “Indeed,” Farl offered her a cup of caf.

            “Thank you Lieutenant.”

            “Call me Farl. Major Taylor will take you home, Miss Medra.”

            “Please, call me Shelia.” Farl smiled at her.  “Farl, you don’t know anyone who could teach me Corellian dance, would you?”

            He chucked. “Why on earth would you want to learn that?”

            “I wanted to try and learn something special for Tom, for the Gala.”

            “Lass, the poor Admiral couldn’t dance properly to save his life. It’s a good thing he can fly better than he can dance, or he’d’ve been dead years ago. He can do a reasonable impression of a waltz, and that’s about it. He sways pretty good to the music.”

            Shelia laughed. “You’re kidding! He grew up on Coruscant, and he can’t even dance?”

            “I’m not exactly sure what he did with his youth, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t involved dancing. It may have involved an unhealthy amount of studying. No, he doesn’t know how to dance very well.”

            “Well, what can I do for him? He’s been so good to me, I feel like I should do something for him.”

            Farl considered for a moment. “Well, now, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to learn some dance. The trouble is, I don’t know any Corellians who could teach it to you. But I might be able to find you some holos. I’ll check the library, and see what I can find for you. I don’t think he’s even had the opportunity to do Corellian dancing in years. I’ll see what I can do for you.” They had reached the sedan outside the aparment building. Farl held the door for her. “Take care, Shelia.”

            “Take good care of him Farl, make sure he gets more sleep.”

            “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

            “Take care of yourself too. Thank you for everything,”

            “A pleasure.”

            The door shut, and Shelia leaned back in her seat as the sedan whisked her back to her house. She giggled to herself. “Some date…my date fell asleep on me.”

 

            Tom woke up the next morning with a start. He was disoriented and confused. The last thing he remembered was sitting on the couch with Shelia watching a movie. He had a vauge memory of her lips on his but after that, nothing. How had he gotten here? He hadn’t had that much wine…he realized he was still fully dress.

            “How in the sith…?” Emperors black bones, how did I get here? How did I fall asleep in uniform? How the HELL did I manage to sleep with my rank badges poking into my chest like that? Every question he asked, he only managed to be more confused. Some one here had to have answers, and he suspected, that person wasn’t too far away. “Farl!”

            The door slid open. “Yes Admiral?”

            “How…” Davis stopped and reconsidered the question. “Who…What happened?”

            “Well, sir, you were watching a movie with Miss Medra, and you fell asleep. You slept through Shelia and Major Taylor bringing you back here, and putting you into bed. You even slept through your kiss goodnight. And in fact, you’ve slept for the past 14 standard time parts.”

            “WHAT?”

            “Don’t worry Admiral, I’ve moved around all your meetings. If anything urgent had come up, I would have woken you.” Davis sighed. He knew that much was true. He rubbed his face in his hands and felt scratchy stubble. “Despite the fact you look like you just woke up, you do look a world better. You look like yourself again.”

            “Thanks, I think.” Davis threw the covers back, and made his way to the refresher unit. His razor was laid out on the counter, and after availing himself of the facilities, he pealed off his wrinkled sweat-soaked uniform tunic, splashed water on his face and began lathering up. Farl was leaning on the doorframe.

            “I’ll inform Lieutenant Commander Torkes that your meeting has been rescheduled for the lunch hour, your paperwork is waiting at your desk. Routine reports. There are some updated casuaulty figures. We’ve accounted for all the missing personel.”

            “Oh? What were the numbers again?”

            “We still had about a dozen people missing as of last night. We found 10 more bodies in rubble, and one survivor.”

            “What about the other one?”

            “He just hadn’t reported in to the right place. It was a miscommunication,”

            “Well, that’s good news.” Davis looked in the mirror as he shaved. He did look better for having slept, he though as the layer of stubble disappeared under his razor. “Anything on the pirates?”

            “Nothing that I have yet, but I think Commander Torkes is still putting together his report.”

            “Right. Anything else?”

            “Nothing important. You’ve got some paperwork to sign. Its that time of the month again.”

            “Oh joy.”

            Since they weren’t in the Core anymore, they didn’t have access to Imperial Navy Paymaster accounts. As a result, they had to create a system to pay the men and women in the command. This had involved a seizure of certain assets from some pirates and other criminals, creatively invested in a way that was revenue positive, despite the massive withdrawals every month to pay out. Authorizing payments was a hassle though, with far more paperwork than should have been necessary. The governments of the planets in the sector were starting to appropriate the funds to support the Pride and soon Davis hoped to discontinue the current pay process, and use those funds to expand his sector forces. Davis splashed more water on his face to wash down the last of the shaving gel. He began to peel off the remainder of his wrinkeled uniform and stepped into the shower. “Anything else exciting?”

            “Nothing really. We’re still looking for the pirates.”

            “Tell me another one…” Davis paused a moment to slap shampoo in his hair. “Where are these guys hinding? They can strike at will, with precision timing, so they must be working out of somewhere in the sector. The question is, who’s supplying them, where are they getting their supplies? Who is helping them? Why? To what end?”

            “All very good questions, Admiral.”

            Davis stepped out of the shower and began to put on a fresh uniform. “Every time they hit somewhere, they take something. Something easily convertible to hard currency. Which means they’re either hording, or using the hard cash to purchase new items. To what end? Why operate here? There are plenty of undefended systems around here.”

            “We are the richest.”  Farl pointed out.

            “Right.” Davis slid his boots on and stood, checking himself in the mirror. He did look better. A few years younger, he decided. Time to prove he still had the gift that made him one of the most dangerous rebel hunters in the Empire. “So they’re profit motivated. They’re probably getting supplies from an unaligned planet nearby, somewhere just outside our sector. But they’re operating within the sector, because they’re able to excute raids with precision timing, and they have good intelligence.” Farl was taping notes out on a datapad as they strode down the corridor. Davis suddeny took a quick detour in the direction of the Base’s tactical command room. Farl struggled to keep up. “So they’re operating from somewhere in the sector, that’s reasonably close to a nearby sector. Hitting profitable targets.”

            He strode into the command room, a deep look of concentration on his face. Everyone shot to their feet. “As you were,” he turned to the Captain in charge “Bring up the star chart of the region.”

            “Aye sir.” The starfield sprang up where the holo of the planet had been hovering in the middle of the room.

            “Mark it up with the locations of all the pirate attacks.” Red dots appeared in the map. “So they’ve hit over here, and over here…can you trace a line through all these?” a red line appeared, connecting the dots, and it ran in a arch along one side of the figure, then seemed to draw a straight line. Something was wrong about the figure. Davis pointed. “Eliminate the automatic loop effect,” he ordered. The straight line dropped away, and he was left with a long arch. “Of course, we’ve been looking for a circle!” Davis said, as if the answer was immediately obvious. “Not a wedge.” Davis stabbed a finger at a point near there edge of the sector. “There Leiutenant, that’s where we’ll find them. Right here. Can you give me a magnification of this area?” The holograph zoomed up, and the immediate vicinity Davis had indicated came into focus. There was a dying white dwarf star, with a pair of planets orbiting it. Charts had no indications if either could support life, or if the three moons orbiting the second planet could. “That’s where they are. Now we just have to go find them, and catch them there. Get Commander Torkes immediately…actually, is he on the ship?”

            “Aye sir.”

            “Lets get there. An hour ago.”

            “Aye, aye sir.”

            Fifteen minutes later, Davis was rocketing up to the Pride. I have you now…he thought.

 

            “Hey honey, I’m sorry about last night, but I feel a hell of a lot better. It looks like I’ll be here another night. Its Friday, lets go do something normal. Give me a call when you get home from school.”

            It was Tom on her machine, and she smiled at the note of happiness in his voice. She was pleased the night of good sleep seemed to have improved her mood. Then she frowned. It was Friday, but she had promised to go to the high school shockball game that evening. Randal High was playing its cross-town rivals, the Crusaders of Central High. She keyed in Tom’s number. “Yes?”

            “Tom, its Shelia,”

            “Hey! How’s it going? How was school?”

            “It was good.”

            “Can I have the room please? Thank you,” she heard muffled over the line. “Sorry, we were just going over some numbers.”

            “I don’t mean to interrupt…”

            “Oh, no please do. So, tonight?”

            “Yeah, about that. I had promised to go to the High School shockball game for some of my students.”

            There was a pause. “Okay. I’ll go with you. What time is it?”

            “You want to go to a shockball game?”

            “Sure! I loved watching the CSL as a kid. It’ll be fun.”

            “Okay. Well, it starts at 7.”

            “I’ll pick you up at your place. I figure I’ll put on some jeans and a flannel shirt, go casual.”

            “Okay.”

            “I’ll see if I can convince Major Taylor just let me out to play with a couple of plainclothes agents.”

            “Sounds good.”

            “I’ll see you around 6:30 then.”

            “Okay, see you then.”

            “Bye Shelia.”

            “Bye Tom.”

 

            It had taken some strenuous argument, but Major Taylor had allowed Davis to take only a few agents and a utility vehicle to go pick up Shelia. She was waiting when he showed up, dressed in a sweater, with her hair in pigtails.

            “You look adorable,” Tom said, when she opened the door. She giggled.

            “Thank you. Shall we?”

            “Indeed.”

            They arrived at the stadium, the stands were mostly full. Shelia held his hand as they picked their way up the bleachers.

            “Shelia! Over here!” Tom turned to see a woman waving at Shelia. Shelia turned to Tom. “That’s my friend Hillary, she teached chemistry.”

            They made their way over. “Hey Hillary. Hilliary, this is Tom.”

            Hillary’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates, and she blinked. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…Tom.” He grinned at her.

            “Its okay. This is real casual like.”

            “Okay.” Hillary wasn’t entirely convinced.

            “Ladies and Genteels, please rise, for the playing of the Parkpian Anthem.”

            The marching band gave a nice rendition of the anthem before marching off the field. “Before we begin, we ask you to bow your heads as we read a list of Randal High and Central High graduates killed in yesterdays pirate attack.” Tom squeezed Shelia’s hand as the list was read. It was inordinately long. Davis sighed, as the announcer finished up and the play began.

            “I’m going to go get a drink.”

            “Are you okay?” Shelia asked.

            “I’ll be okay.”

 

            The depression that Tom had managed to shake off in the last 24 hours seemed to be threatening to close back in, as he came back around the stands. He paused. For a moment, he thought he’d heard someone crying, softly. He turned back, and a movement caught his eye.

            Curled up, sitting on the ground under the bleachers, in the shadows behind the concessions stand, was a young girl in the uniform of Randal high school’s marching band. Davis took a tentative step forward.

            “Excuse me, Miss?” The girl didn’t move, “Are you alright?” she looked up suddenly, and glared at him.

            “Go away, leave me alone!”

            “I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

            “Well, I’m fine. Go away.”

            Davis crouched down. “Is there anything I can get for you? Maybe a drink? Some tissues?”

            “No! What part of no don’t you understand Mister! I’m fine! I don’t need anything. Nothing you can get for me anyway.”

            “You might be surprised.”

            “Can you get my boyfriend back for me!? Huh? Can you bring him back from the dead?” she shrieked at him.

            Davis leaned back on his heels. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his plainclothes security officer coming toward him. He waved him off, and the man stepped back reluctantly.

            “No, you’re right I can’t bring him back. But I can talk to you about it.”

            “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “Is there someone I can get for you to talk to? One of your friends?”

            The girl choaked out a laugh. “No, no one knew.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “No one knew him but me. We met just before he went to enlist.” She was sobbing again. “Everyone thought it was weird, so I just stopped telling them that he was still writing to me.”

            Davis closed his eyes tighty. One of the dozens of phone calls he made yesterday must have been to this boy parents. “What was his name?”

            “Randy. Randy Henderson.”

            The name clicked, and he matched a dossier photo with the name. Brevet Sergeant Randolph (Randy) Henderson, 23^rd Stormtrooper Battalion. Killed in action. Recommended for Imperial Cross of Valor (Posthumously) for single handedly holding off pirate assault on First Planetary Bank of Parkpia, buying enough time for reinforcements to arrive. Died of his wounds shortly after relief arrived.  Davis remembered the conversation with the boy’s parents with remarkable clarity. They’d be understandably upset, but there was a quiet pride to their grief.

            “He was a good solider,” Tom found himself saying. “He died with honor.”

            The girl looked at him angrily. “And how would you know? Who are you anyway.”

            “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said. “Have you ever had class with Miss Medra?”

            Her brows furrowed. “Yes, I had her for calculus, but what does that have to do with…”

            “Tom? Honey?” Shelia’s voice was somewhere off near the concessions stand.

            “Over here!” The girls eyes widened.

            “You’re…” she gasped.

            “I’m afraid so.”

            “Honey, is everything…Rachel! Are you alright?”

            “I’m afraid that her boyfriend was a very brave man. Perhaps a little too brave,” the look in Tom’s eyes conveyed everything to Shelia.

            “Oh Rachel, I’m so sorry.” Shelia sat down next to Rachel, and put her arm around her shoulders, as Rachel began to sob again.

            “He was so nice, he was kind. My parents thought he was too old for me, so I just didn’t tell them we was still writing to me. I can’t even go to them.”

            “Of course you can Rachel. Your parents will always be there for you.”

            “Why did he have to die Miss Medra? Why?” Shelia turned helpless eyes on Tom.

            “Rachel, I can’t exactly tell you why he died. I can tell you he died defeanding his planent, and protecting innocent people. He died bravely.”

            “How did he die?”

            “Well,” Tom swallowed. “When the pirates attacked, his squad was deployed to help protected the city. Several members of his squad were killed or wounded, and he rallied the remainder of his troops, and fought back, using rubble and debris as cover. His wounded squadmates report that he would run back and forth along the lines, firing his blaster so it would look like there were more men. That kept the pirates away a little bit longer, and stalled for time. More and more of the squad was hit, and finally Randy was the last one standing, and he was running out of ammunition. The pirates must have realized that the defenders couldn’t have had much left, so they charged the position. He stood his ground, and kill four attackers before he took a blaster shot to his upper left blast plate, which penetrated his armor and killed him instantly.”

            “He didn’t suffer at all?” Rachel asked.

            “No ma’am.”

            “He was very brave?” Rachel sniffed, trying to get a hold of her tears.

            “Yes ma’am. His unit commander has reccomened him for the Imperial Cross of Valor. He did a very brave thing, stalling for time like that. The reinforcements arrived in time to secure the rest of the building and evacuate the remaining civilians. Civillians who most certainly would have been killed by the pirates.”

            “They would have done that?”

            “They did. At other banks, the pirates slaughtered all the civilian employees.”

            “Oh my stars…” Shelia gasped. She hadn’t known that.

            “Randy stopped them from doing that?”

            “Yeah.”

            “And it doesn’t stop there,” Tom explained. “Every person that survived is going to go on to live a full life, and they’ll touch other lives. Whether they have children, or they help raise children, they’ll live long an full lives. Its an exponential effect, so that Randy has actually insured a future for hundreds, maybe thousands of people, generations away, who will live long after you or I are long gone.”

            Rachel sniffed. “I never thought of it that way.”

            “Well, I’ve had a little bit of experience in this department. Its not something someone like you should have to think about. You should be worrying about classes, and rehearsals, and teenager things. Not death.” Tom sighed. “It never gets any easier. The pain will always be with you. It hurts to lose someone you love. Believe me, I know. It never gets easier, but you can just think about how many people are going to benefit from Randy sacrifice and it will help put it in better perspective. I don’t mean to say it will ever stop hurting. But it will help you deal with it a little better.”

            “I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.”

            “You’ll hurt for a while. And it will hurt. But eventually, the hurt will fade to an ache. It will always be there, but you can deal with it a little better and eventually, you’ll be ready to find someone new. Someday.”

            “How do you know?”

            “Because I’ve been there.” Both Shelia and Rachel looked at him in surprise.

            “Yes.”

            “What happened?” Rachel asked.

            “I don’t really want to talk about it. It still hurts. I lost someone very close to me. Just like you. I survived. You will too. You’ve got a lot of living left to do. The best thing you can do to honor Randy’s memory is to have a good life. The kind of life he died to protect.”

            Rachel sniffed. “I just can’t believe I’ll never see him again.”

            “Are you going to the funeral, Rachel?” Shelia asked.

            “I can’t…my parents don’t know, my friends don’t know…how am I ever going to explain this?”

            “Rachel, you should tell your parents. I know they’ll help you through this.”

            “Miss Medra, how? They didn’t like Randy in the first place! I can never explain this!”

            “Rachel, I’m sure you’ll be able to.”

            “Noooo!” She wailed. “Miss Medra, you’ve got to help me!”

            “What can I do Rachel?”

            “My parents are going to be so mad at me, and I can’t deal with that right now! I can’t explain this.” Tears of hysteria had taken over.

            Shelia looked at Tom helplessly. “Come on, lets take her home. She shouldn’t be here right now.” Tom said, decisively. “Who’s in charge of the band. You stay with her.”

            “Mr. Claussen, he’s the one in the tweed suit with the balding head.”

            “Right.”

            Tom straightened, and Shelia helped Rachel to her feet. “C’mon honey, lets go.”

            “Major!” Davis barked, forgetting for a moment. A few curious glances in his direction were redirected by the sounds of cheering from the field.

            “Yes sir?”

            “Have the car brought around, we’re going to take this young lady to her home.”

            “Aye, sir.”

            Davis made his way around the stands, and found the marching band. He spotted a man in brown tweed jacket.

            “Mr. Claussen?”

            “Yes?”

            “Mr. Claussen, do you know who I am?”

            The man blinked a moment, squinted, and then his eyes went wide. “I…you’re…”

            “Good. Don’t make a scene,”

            “You’re here with Shelia Medra.”

            “Yes, I was. But we’re leaving to take one of your students home.”

            “I’m sorry?”

            “Rachel…oh blast, I never got her last name, she plays that little flute thingy.”

            “Piccaloo, Rachel Carmson. What happened?”

            “She’s had a tragedy in her life, and she’s not really fit to be here. Shelia and I found her crying under the bleachers.”

            “Oh stars! What happened?”

            “Someone she was close to was killed yesterday. And she’s taking it very hard. I’m not sure how much she would feel comfortable sharing. We’re taking her home to her parents.”

            “Okay…I’m really not supposed to release her to anyone but her parents, but she did just turn 18, so she’s technically able to check herself out.”

            “Shelia’s got her over at the car, I’m heading over to join them. A pleasure to meet you, sir.”

            “No sir, a pleasure meet you.”

            Davis wandered over, the utility vehicle was waiting, and Davis climbed in. Shelia was holding Rachel, who was still crying. She’d moved to the hysterical stage. She was endangering her health unless she got a hold of herself. “Captain, find this poor girls address. Rachel Carmson.”

            “Aye sir.”

            “She’s going to make herself sick.” Shelia whispered. The fit was tight in the backseat.

            “I know. I’d have sent her to Dr. y’Talor by now.”

            “Dealing with death is a big enough problem. She doesn’t need to be making herself hysterical over her parents.”

            “I know.”

            “Speaking of which, what did you mean back there?”

            “Later.” Davis patted Rachel on the shoulder. “Come on Rachel, get a hold of yourself.”

            She tried, and occasionally she’d get herself down to hiccupping sobs, but then she’d start up again.

            “I think she’s gone into shock.” Davis said. He carefully took Rachel’s hand, and felt her pulse.  “Her heartbeat is all over the place. Captain!”

            “Sir?”

            “Change of plans, hit the sirens, get us to the base hospital right now. Major, get on the com, get her parents down there, we’ll meet them there.”

            “Aye, sir.”

            The siren kicked on, and the vehicle went into a high g turn, and picked up speed. “Shock is dangerous. We need to get her sedated and get her heart rate back to normal.”

            “Okay. Will she be alright?”

            “So long as she stays breathing for the moment. The doctors can help her.”

            Rachel was still sobbing a few minutes later, when the vehicle bounced to a halt in the emergency entrance of the Base Hospital. Doctors were wating, and eased Rachel out of the vehicle and onto a gurney.

            “Human female, late adolecent.”

            “Irregular heartbeat, subject is in shock!”

            “We need to get her sedated and relaxed, get her breathing back to normal.”

            The voices faded as the doctors wheeled her away. Shelia clung to Tom. “So young.”

            “I wasn’t much older than her when I shot down my first enemies. I’ve been dealing death for so long, sometimes I forget that on the other end is a family, and lives destroyed, by me.” He sighed.

            “Tom…”

            “Shelia, it something I have to deal with. It doesn’t go away. I can’t avoid the fact that the Rebels I shot down had mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, wives and sweethearts. It’s the soldier’s price.” He kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got to go find this girls parents.”

            “This way, Admiral.” Major Taylor waved him over.

            They entered into the waiting room to find a very worried looking middle aged couple.

            “Miss Medra!” The mother spotted Shelia.

            “Mrs. Carmson, Rachel’s going to be okay.”

            “What happened?” This was from her father. He looked very upset.

            “Your daughter slipped into shock, and needs to be sedated to reestablish a regular heartbeat and steady breathing.”

            “Who are you?” Upset had now become accusatory.

            “Mrs. Carmson, Mr. Carmson, this is my boyfriend, Tom.” Mr. Carmson, looking chagrined, held out his hand.

            “Ed Carmson.”

            “Tom Davis.” There was a long pause as both Mr. and Mrs. Carmson looked at him carefully.

            “You’re…” Mr. Carmson began slowly.

            “Yes.” He nodded. Poor Mr. Carmson looked even more confused. “Why don’t we go somewhere where we can sit down. Major?”

            “Yes, sir?”

            “Show us to a room with some privacy, and arrange for some caf.”

            “Aye sir.”

            The four, guided by Major Taylor went into what appeared to be a staff lounge that had been cleared out. Mr. and Mrs. Carmson sat down, and Shelia did as well. Davis poured caf.

            “Mrs. Carmson, do you remember Randy Henderson?”

            “Why, yes. He was that boy Rachel had a crush on. He went off to join the navy. He was three years older than her, and nothing came of it.”

            “He was too old for her, I told her.” Mr. Carmson, this time.

            “Well, I’m afraid I wouldn’t say that nothing came of it.” Tom offered.

            “What do you mean?”

            Shelia sighed. “You should realy hear this from Rachel, but she’s not in any shape to tell you. She’s been corresponding with Randy since he joined up.”

            “And she didn’t tell us?” Mrs. Carmson was aghast.

            “She didn’t want to risk your disapproval.”

            “So what’s happened? Did he break up with her? What caused this?” Mr. Carmson demanded.

            “Sir, I regret to inform you that Randy Henderson was killed yesterday.”

            There was a stunned silence. “He’s dead?” Mrs. Carmson found her voice first.

            “Yes ma’am.” She closed her eyes, and made an elaborate religious sign with her hands.

            “My stars…” Mr. Carmson was shocked. “I never had anything against the kid personally…its just…she’s my daughter, you understand. Its my job to look out for her.”

            “Well, Rachel was obviously deeply affected.”

            “My poor baby!” Mrs. Carmson was crying.

            “And she felt trapped by your disapproval. She made herself hysterical. Tom found her crying under the bleachers when he went to get a drink.”

            “We were taking her home, but she had pushed herself so far in hysteria that she went into shock. That’s when we brought her here.”

            “When can we see her?” Her mother demanded.

            “The doctors will tell us as soon as they’re able.” Davis assured them.

            “I don’t really know what to say. You all have been so much more than kind,” Mr. Carmson said. “I can’t begin to thank you enough,” he held out his hand, and Tom took and shook it.

            “Well, under the circumstances, it’s the least I can do,” Davis said, and the three other people in the room looked at him curiously.

            “What do you mean by that?” Mrs. Carmson asked.

            Tom sighed, realzing his mistake, but trapped. “I suppose I shouldn’t blame myself when people die in my command, but unfortunetly, it’s a burden I’ve got to shoulder sometimes.”

            “The pirate attacks aren’t your fault, Admiral,” Mr. Carmson pointed out.

            “Rationally, I understand all that.  But when you spend entire afternoons making condolance calls to families, you tend to lose you rationality. It also reminds me of other things that I don’t like to think about, like the lives I’ve torn asunder, whether as a fighter pilot, or later as commander of my ship. My enemies have families just like my men. Its easier to dissasocitate yourself from it, standing up there on the bridge. Down here, its harder to run from your conscience sometimes.”

            Mr. Carmson nodded in understand. “I used to be a reservist in the Parkpia Planetary Guard. There wasn’t a lot of conflict, but occasionally we’d have to put down civil unrest, or a rebellious province. I don’t think it comes anything close to the scale you work on, but I do understand what you’re thinking.”

            Tom nodded. “Where did you top out?”

            “Senior NCO, I was a platoon commander.”

            Tom looked Mr. Carmson up and down. He certainly had the build for it. “What do you do now?”

            “Private Security.”

            Davis nodded. “Well, you should probably go check on your daughter. The doctor outside the door is trying to get our attention.” They exited the room, and they followed the doctor to the room where Rachel was resting, sleeping under the influence of a tranquilizer.

            “You folks will want to be here when she wakes up. I’ll be sure to have the staff make you comfortable.”

            “Thank you,” Mrs. Carmson said again, squeezing Shelia’s hand, before slipping into the room quietly.

            “Thank you again, sir.” Mr. Carmson shook Tom’s hand and met his eyes. He could see the pride and fear of a father, as well as total gratitude.

            “I’ll have someone pass along some information for Rachel. She may want to go to Randy’s funeral, and I think she has the right to go.”

            “Thank you.” Mr. Carmson gave a slight nod, before stepping back and drawing himself up to his full height, and giving Tom a salute. He returned it, and Mr. Carmson slipped in with his wife.

            “C’mon, lets go somewhere. There are things we need to talk about.” Tom said, taking Shelia by the hand.

            “Is everything okay?”

            “Yeah.” Tom sighed. “There are just things you’ll probably want to know, and that you deserve to know about.” He let go of her hand, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. “Things I haven’t talked about in a long time.”

 

 

            A half hour later, Shelia found herself in the private cabin of Admiral Tom Davis. She started out at the planet turning below her, and since this side of the planet was nightside, she could pick out the largest cities by the twinkling lights.

            “Its really beautiful.”

            “I know,” Tom said. He had his hand wrapped around her waist, and was resting his chin on her head. He turned down and kissed the top of her head. “A drink?”

            “Sure…” She said hesitantly. “What do you have?” curious, Shelia followed Tom over to the mini-bar. In it were a collection of liquors the likes of which she’d never seen.

            “Well,” he replied, removing bottles and placing them on the counter. “We have a fine Cheruban Brady, a very nice vintage of wine from Commonor, a Ruby Wine, an its very good. This is a nice concotion called Vokda from the Corperate Sector. This is a fruit liquer from Borelialis. This stuff is from Tatooine…its terrible…”

            “What’s that?” Shelia pointed at a green tinited bottle stting in the wine cubbord. Davis carefully removed it. His mood had suddenly turned grave.

            “Love, this will someday be worth more than this Star Destroyer.”

            Shelia’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

            Davis brushed the dust off the label, and allowed Shelia to read the bottle.

            “I’ve never heard of Aldera,” Shelia said.

            “It was the capitol of Alderaan,” Davis said quietly. There was a long silence.

            “Oh.”

            “I keep it, as a reminder. Nothing new will ever come from Alderaan. Someday, everyone who was from there will be dead, and all remaining goods will have been consumed. But my children will have this bottle of wine, as a reminder of what it was, and what man is capable of doing, so they will be ever vigilant to never let it happen again.” Carefully, Davis slipped it back onto the rack.

            “How old is it?”

            “Its only 5 or 6 years old. It was a cheap bottle of wine when I bought it, back before…” he sighed. “Now its probably worth your yearly salary. And someday, it might fetch a price high enough to buy an entire system. My hope though, is that it will never be sold.”  He pulled out another bottle. “This is my personal drink, though, a good Corellian whiskey. Whyren’s Reserve. The best whiskey on Corellia. I still have a few bottles left in my personal stash, and when I run out, I’ll just have to send a shuttle back to the core to get some more.” He grinnd, and poured himself a small tumbler with ice. “What will you have? I have some more local stuff, if you don’t like the other options.”

            “I’ll try the ruby wine.” She said.

            “A good choice.” Tom poured her a glass, and held his own up. “Cheers,” their glasses clinked, and each took a sip.

            Her drink was surprisingly good, “This is very good,” she said. The wine was sweet, but yet it left a tart aftertaste that made it seem less sticky.

            “I thought you’d like it.”

            He led them over to the couch, where they settled down, Shelia with her head on his shoulder.

            “So, I guess I should probably answer your question then.”

            “What question?” she asked.

            “When you asked me what I was talking about, back in the car. What I was telling Rachel about.”

            “Tom, if you don’t want to talk about it…”

            “No, its alright, you deserve to know.” He took a deep breath. “It all started a long time ago, as I was getting ready for the academy…”

 

            The shuttle that would take him away from all of this was waiting, as he looked out over the spires of the city. The city he hated...the city full of dishonest people, full of corruption, greed and dishonor. All he had to do was walk on board.

            "Tom?" the voice came from behind him.

            "Dal, I told you not to come." he said without turning around.

            "I couldn't stay away." she sighed apolgetically, and stood next to him at the rail.

            Dal had been his only freind. The freind who had kept him sane, as he studied frantically all his youth, for this one moment. She'd listened to his dreams, shared his vision, his sense of honor. She'd been his confidant, his refuge. More than once, a distraught Tom would show up on her doorstep, down 5 levels from the opulance of his father's home, and find a welcoming place to pour out his troubles. More than once, he'd cried himself to sleep on her couch, to wake up in the morning and find a good wholesome breakfast prepared for him, rather than having to get it himself, being left alone most of the time. All this could have led to a lifelong romance, but Tom had been blinded by his driving ambition, his dream of getting off Coruscant and into the Acadamy. She'd never wavered in her devotion to him, however.

            "I'm going to miss you Dal." Tom said after a time.

            "You too Tom," she said holding back tears. "Please take care of yourself."

            Tom's eyes sparked with his Corellian blood. "Hey, its me."

            She half laughed, "Right." Dal's eyes began flowing freely, and Tom took her into a close embrace.

            "Hey, hey, don't cry. I'm going to be fine."

            "Write to me."

            "Every moment I'm able." Tom suddenly found himself with moist eyes himself. How could he have not felt this before? Why had he not felt this before? How could he have been so blind?

            "Good luck Tom."

            He looked down into her wet eyes. "I love you Dal."

            "I know." Their lips met in a kiss, Tom's first of its kind. Finally he pulled away, and turned to walk to the shuttle. He turned back at the ramp and waved goodbye. She waved back, and he turned and boarded the shuttle. It was the last time he ever saw her.

 

            It was semester break, and Tom came to Coruscant to see Dal. Her letters had mysteriously stopped coming. Before he went down to see her, he stopped at his house.

            "Tom my boy. Its good to see you." his father had said.

            "Hello father," he offered cordially, before heading off to his room.

            Tom emerged a moment later. "Tom, we need to talk."

            "What is it? I've got someone waiting outside."

            "Tom, I have a datacard here from a friend of yours. It was the least I could do under circumstances."

            "What?"

            Tom picked it up, and inserted it into his Academy datapad, which he kept in its pocket on his sleeve.

 

Dearest Tom,

 

This will be the last letter you ever receive from me. My father was arrested yesterday by the Imperial Security Bureau, I don't know what he did. My mother and I have been taken by the ISB as well, and we're to be moved to the Outer Rim. I can't bear the thought of what this will do to you Tom. I love you more than life. That's why I don't want you to come find me. I don’t hold you responsible for what happened. You’re not like them. You’re going to be the most honorable, most heroic officer the Imperial Navy has ever seen. Someday, maybe you’ll even make things right. But being associated with a suspected Rebel will hamper your dreams. You won't become what you want to be with me Tom. It will derail your carrear. Please don't try to trace me. Your father was kind enough to take this letter for you. Its the least I could do to explain.

 

Love always,

 

Dal

 

            An awaking rage came over Tom. His brows furrowed. "Dal's father worked in your office!" he excailmed to his father.

            "I know, that's why I did what I did. I felt I had an obligation...

            "Obligation my ass! You could have  done something about it damn you! You're always bragging about your clout and influance!"

            "Thomas, don't take that voice with me. I had a career to consider, mine and yours."

            "I don't give a Sith about my career. I'll tell you what you are, you're a self serving greedy, stuck up bastard...always have been." Tom stormed out of the room, and went back into his room. Piling his few remaining belonging back into this overnight back, he stormed out of the house, ignoring the shouts of his father.

            "Trouble?" Han asked, seeing Davis's face. Wordlessly Davis collapsed onto Han shoulder, sobbing, thrusting the datapad into Han's hand. Han briefly read the first couple lines.

             “Come on pal, lets go get a drink or two…”

           

           

            “I went with Han, and got totally drunk. He dragged me to medical facilities. We both got demerits for conduct unbecoming cadets.

            “Later on, when I gained rank, I tried to find her, but even an Admiral can’t break through ISB red tape. I never found out where she’d been sent, or even if she was still alive. I can only hope she made her way to the Rebel Alliance some how.”

            “Tom, I’m so sorry,” Shelia touched her hand to his cheek.

            “Its okay. It took me a long time, but I got over her. Sometimes in life, there’s no point in dwelling on the past.”

            “You didn’t have to tell me all that, you know. Its ancheint history.”

            Tom shrugged. “Maybe some other guy might have been able to not tell you, but I couldn’t. I’ve learened my lesson about honesty the hard way. And even if I hadn’t I would tell you anyway. You have a right to know.”

            “I understand. I do appreciate you told me. I think it helps me understand you a little better.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, Mr. I’m going to bend all the rules to solve everyone’s problems.”

            Tom chuckled. “I suppose.”

            “What else did you want to tell me?”

            “That was all I had,” he said. “Do you have anything particually you want to know about me?”

            Shelia paused, and looked around the Spartan, yet cozy, cabin. “I don’t know. I want to know everything about you Tom, I don’t know where to start.”

            “Well,” Tom pointed. “The paiting on the wall is from my mother. It’s a landscape from Corellia.” Shelia nodded. It reminded her of Parkpia. “The pictures are various collegues and friends.” He waved an arm toward the wall. “Books. Mainly textbooks, tactical guides, technical manuels, nothing too exciting.”

            “What do you do for entertainment?”

            “Well, I play quadrent.”

            “Quadrent?”

            “It’s a tactical simulation.” Davis touched a panel on the low table between the couch and the chair. A set of gridlines came up, and the grid had various units on it. “Each unit does a attacks and defends differently, as well as moves differently. The goal is to wipe out the enemy.”

            “You play this for fun?”

            “Well,” he admitted. “If I’m really looking for fun, I’ll go down to the sims and beat up on the recruits in the simulator runs. Either that or I’ll work on the Rogue’s Escape.”

            “What’s that?”

            “That’s my personal Lambda-class shuttle.”

            “Oh, I see.”

            “I’ll show it to you sometime, when I’ve got the hyperdrive remounted.”

            “Okay.” There was a silence. “Do you like music?”

            “Oh yeah, I have a large collection of music. A lot of it is either classical or newer Corellian.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Do you dance?”

            “Not very well.”

            “Do you have anything we could dance to now?”

            “Your wish, is my command,” Davis sat forward, and manipulated the panel on the table. The Quadrent display dissapeard, and a list drew up. Davis hit a few more buttons, and soft music began to fill the room.

           

            From this moment

            Life has begun

            From this moment

            You are the one

            Right beside you

            Is where I belong

            From this moment on

 

            They began to dance, Tom leading carefully, unsure of himself after so many years of being without practice. Shelia did her best to follow his steps.

            “It’s a beautiful song.” She said.

            “It is, isn’t it?”

            The concentrated on their dance steps but soon found a rythem. Davis was surprised at how much he remembered. Shelia was equallaly as impressed with her ability to keep up.

            The song ended, and Tom smiled at her, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the lips.

            “You’re good,” he told her, as the next song, came on, slightly faster in tempo. She smiled back at him.

            “I have a good teacher, obviously.”

            “Obviously.”

            They danced to music there in the cabin, until their feet tired. “Sitting is good,” Tom said, pulling her down to the couch in his arms.

            “Hey!” she giggled, as Tom began kissing her neck and shoulders. “Stop that!”

            “Why?”

            “It tickles!”

            “Oh really?” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His fingers found the underside of her elbows.

            “Ah!” she squeled. “Stop!” she laughed, reaching around for his stomach.

            “Oh no no no!” he tried to dodge out of the way, but landed on his backside on the floor, having slid entirely off the couch. Shelia laughed uproarious, and he lunged at her, and she squeled as his fingers found the back of her knee and the side of her stomach. She twisted out of the way, and ended up beside him on the floor. They ticked and dodged until they were a pathetic, panting heap on the floor.

            “Truce?” Tom offered between deep breaths.

            “Truce.” She said. Tom leaned down and kissed her.

            “Mmmmmm,” she broke off the kiss. “I like this a lot better,” she replied, before kissing him again.

            “So do I,” he said around kisses. He wraped his arms around her, and buried his head in her hair, which she’d let down on the trip up to the Pride. “You’re wonderful.”

            She blushed. “What have I done?”

            “The way you handled that poor girl. I was freaking out internally. You seemed so calm.”

            “I’m a high school teacher. You get prepared for kids in crisis.”

            “Difference in line of work, I suppose. I’ve never had a bridge officer break down on me.”

            “I can understand that.” They picked themselves up and put themselves on the coutch. Tom sighed, and closed his eyes.

            “Tom?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Which way is the refresher?” she asked.

            “Oh, its over around the corner, door on the left.”

            “Thanks.”

            By the time she came out of the refresher, she could hear Tom snoring lightly from his spot on the couch, and she shook her head. Rule Number 1, she told herself make him get more sleep. While he snored, she took the opportunity to tidy the apartment. Books were piled on tables haphazardly, and the state of the refresher station was poor, but not terrible. Shelia wondered why he didn’t have droids or orderlies to clean his cabin. The floors were clean, and the refresher was sanitary, but it seemed as though everything was left strewn about haphazardly, yet on purpose. She shook her head. Men.

            She’d just finished putting some books back on the shelf, when she heared it. It sounded like a whimper at first, and she cocked an eyebrow. There was no mistaking what came next, however.

            “NOOOOOOOOOOO!” She spun, Tom had sat bolt upright on the couch, breathing heavily. She was at his side in an instant. His skin was clammy, he was panting and it was a dream. She put her arms around him.

            “Tom! Its okay, its okay…it was a dream. I’m here.” She told him, stroking his hair, as she drew him into her arms.

            “Oh gods…” a hand went to his throat, and he began rubbing it unconsciously. “Oh gods, Shelia.” He gripped her with his free hand tightly.

            “Shhhh…its okay.” She soothed him, “I’m here its okay.” She frowed as he continued to massage his throat. “What is it Tom, a nightmare?” He nodded. “What kind of a nightmare. He closed his eyes and shuddered. His voice was barely above a whisper when her replied.

            “Vader.”

            “Vader? Darth Vader?” her eyebrows narrowed in confusion. The propaganda that Tom has his Imperial spreading disassociated themselves from the Dark Lord’s atrocities, but surprisingly, Shelia realized she knew very little about these atrocities. “Talk to me?”

            He took a deep breath. “Vader had a capricious temper. He was known for using the Force to strangle people, sometimes over long distance holonet communications. And of course, he was implicated in dozens of atrocities. Slaughters of anti-Imperial protesters, enslavement of non-human populations, just about anything. He is the Emperor’s hatchet man.”

            “What happened in the dream, Tom?”

            He closed his eyes. “I was on the bridge of the Death Star. Tarkin ordered me to fire, and I refused. Vader told me to fire and I refused. Then he started strangling people. Everyone I knew, all while he held me in the air by the throat. It was terrible.”

            Shelia comprehended slowly. “Even me?”

            “That’s when I woke up,” Davis nodded. He gripped her hand. “I’m sorry I startled you.” Then he chuckeled. “I’m sorry I keep falling asleep on these dates. You must think I’m terrible.”

            “No, I think you don’t get enough sleep.” She scolded lightly, and softened it further with a smile. Tom sighed.

            “I know. But lately I…

            “Haven’t been sleeping well?” she finished his sentence for him.

            “Yeah.”

            “You should see a doctor, maybe you can get something.”

            He tensed up. “Ah, no thanks.”

            “What is it with you and doctors?” Shelia asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

            “Doctors have needles,” he replied.

            “You’re afraid of needles?” she was incredulous.

            “Skin is not meant to be poked, cut or otherwise broken,” he sniffed. Shelia shook her head.

            “Big baby,” she scoffed at him.

            “I am not!” he protested.

            She just chucked at him, and turned. Her eye caught the planet spinning beneath them out the window, and she was drawn to its beauty.

            “Its beautiful isn’t it?” Tom asked, whispering in her ear, wraping his arms around her from behind.

            “It is,” she breathed.

            “Its not as beautiful as you,” he said, planting a kiss at the base of her neck. She arched her back.

            “Mmmm, flatterer,” she sighed deeply, leaning back into his embrace.

            “Never,” he replied, settling her head on his shoulder, and leaning back into the couch. “Movie?”

            “Nope, this is nice,” she purred contentedly, watching the orb spinning below them.

            “Okay.”

            Shelia smiled lazily, as he kissed the top of her head. He tightened his arms around her, and rested his head. This was so nice…he thought.

            Shelia listened Tom’s breath even out, and she smiled. She would wake him up in just a bid, she told her self. I’m just going to rest my eyes for a minute…

 

            Shelia squeezed her eyes against the bright light of dawn filtering through her window. Blast, I must have left the shades open…she reached over to grab a pillow to sheilder her eyes.

            And hit something hard.

            “SITH!” a gravelly voice swore, as her “pillow” shifted underneath her. She sat bolt upright. Tom was lying on the couch, rubbing the side of his face, where a large red mark was slowly forming.

            “Oh gods, Tom, I’m so sorry!”

            He blinked, and grinned lazily. “Well next time, you could slap me before we fall asleep together, if it means that much to you.”

            Shelia looked around, they were still in Tom’s cabin, the sun was rising beyond the planet below them, and the crono on the wall of the cabin, the one that was calibrated to Parkpia time, indicated that it was very early morning in Parkpia City. Shelia did some mental math. We’ve been asleep almost 6 hours.

            “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she said, touching the side of his face. The red mark was already fading, fortunately.

            “I know,” he laughed. “What were you trying to do?” he asked.

            “I was looking for a pillow to shield my eyes.”

            He laughed. “Ahh, I see,” he turned toward the window. “Computer, 50% opaqucity.” Obediently, the window was darkened, and the sun’s glare was muted, as if through dark sunglasses.

            “How long have you been awake?” she asked.

            “You woke me when you hit me,” he pouted at her, but his eyes twinkled, softening the scolding.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “It okay.” Tom sat up and stretched. “I’m hungry. You want something?”

            “What do you have?”

            “Well, I don’t like to bother the cooks at this hour, but I can get almost anything whipped up if you like. Other than that, I have some dry ceral, some breakfast muffins. And cookies.” He said, bending down into the cabinets in the small kitchen area. “Oh look! I’ve got some canned soup. Pasta! I didn’t know this stuff was still in here? How old is this stuff…” Shelia didn’t like the sound of that. She followed Tom into the kitchen area.

            “Do you have anything that doesn’t have a pre-Empire date?” she asked sarcastically.

            “Maybe?” Tom said sheepishly, more a question than an answer.

            “Move, you big dork.”

            She began rummaging through his cabinets. It wasn’t as bad as she feared. She pulled out a couple of cans of vegetables, some she’d never seen before, and some pasta. There was a jar of sauce, and she pulled that out too. “I have a question,” she said, clearing a space on the small counter for the items she’s removed.

            “What?”

            “How come this place isn’t spotless? Don’t you have droids and stuff to clean if for you?”

            “I prefer to have a lived in environment,” he replied, handing her a can opener, when it was clear that she was looking for it. “It makes it feel…I dunno, homey.”

            She began rummaging for a pot.

            “Third cabinet, above the stove.” Tom pointed. “Why do you ask?”

            “I was just surprised, I guess.”

            “It reminds me that I’m human. There’s only so much of this high and mighty stuff a guy can take before it starts going to your head.” He pointed. “Untensils are in the drawer next to the stove.”

            “Thanks,” she replied, pulling out what she needed. “I guess I understand, I just figured that you military men were all powerful, and all about cleanliness and spotlessness.”

            “Oh, well, when it comes to most things, I am, but I think everyone needs a little space to call their own, don’t you?”

            “Of course.”

            “Well, this is mine. Well, this and the Rogue. My office, by contrast, is a lot cleaner.”

            “Oh.” Shelia continued to put together a meal, and began to simmer water on the stove. “Tom,” she began.

            “Yeah?”

            “My dad said something…I’m not really sure how to ask this…”

            “What is it?”

            “How did you end up out here?”

            There was a long silence. Tom sat down on the edge of the counter, and rubbed his face in his hands. “Oh wow.”

            “I’m sorry if I’m prying.”

            “No, no, its not that. I just don’t know where to begin. Well, I don’t know how much about the Galactic Civil War you know, maybe that’s a good place to start. How much do you know?”

            “Well, I know the Empire is fighting rebels, and the Empire destroyed Alderaan. You don’t like that, I know, because your information agents have denounced the action. You’re an Imperial officer, but you act like a Rebel.”

            “Well, it’s a basis. A good place to start is at the Academy.

            “The unrest was just beginning to start then. Han and I in our private moments were concerned about the way things were going. You heard my story about Dal, so you know that the Empire had just started cracking down on things. I was convinced things could be changed from within the system. Another fellow I was at the Academy with, Baron Soontir Fel, was another one who sympathized with me. He didn’t get along with Han, so we never really hung out together. When we graduated, we went our separate was. Han got himself in trouble by interfearing with a Wookie Slaving operation. That’s how he met Chewbacca, of course. He was court martialed for that offense, but not before he’d earned his bloodstripes. I was jealous of course. Not being from Corellia, I couldn’t earn the bloodstripes, but I wanted them badly.”

            “Bloodstripes?”

            “Oh, it’s a Corellian military decoration, given for valor. It entitles you to wear a yellow or red stripe down the seam of your pants. Very dashing.”

            “I see.”

            “In any case, I kept in touch with Fel, and we both agreed things were going south in a hurry. I mean, we did plenty of good things, bringing food and medicine to troubled worlds, and stopping pirates and smuggling, but we could see the Empire was starting to go to far. The first of the really bad massaceers of protestors happened the year after I graduated the Academy.

            “I started to rise in rank, and I got to know some others who sympathized with my position. I soon commanded a small patrol squadron, with a frigate and a pair of corvettes. We were an anti-pirate task force, which quickly established a reputation for hunting pirates and rebels. I wanted to go back over to fighters, but someone had other plans.

            “I’ll never know who decided that I should go back to Carida, but the decision made me one of the youngest admirals in the history of the navy, because the post is always held by a Rear-Admiral. I got reacquainted with Fel, because he was a teacher there at the time. He kept talking about forming an elite fighter squadron, and I so desperately wanted to join, since being back in combat would eliminate the kind of moral struggles that ranking officers were starting to have to deal with. I met another Admiral who was very much in line with my way of thinking, Admiral Rogriss. He and I had long discussions about he ethics of following orders, and whether we would refuse an order to attack a civilian population. He was the commander of the Carida Sector Patrol Fleet at the time, so we saw quite a bit of each other. Then of course, there was my rival, Captain Piett, who was widely acknowledged as one of the up and coming line officers, and had a faster route to the top than I, since the Academy post was widely considered a dead end.

            “About a year before the Death Star, we started hearing rumors about a big construction project. Men and material just about dried up. Entire wings of starfighters were disappearing. And of course, the Rebel Alliance was getting stronger. They were also getting bolder. They’d hit convoys and steal ships. Infact, sometimes entire patrols would go out, and not come back. We didn’t know it yet, but the Alliance had gained a significant amount of capitols starship support from Mon Calimari. Some officers were talking openly about defecting, because of continued atrocities. And the slave system was the worst. I hated slavery. It just made me sick to my stomach.

            “Somewhere, someone decided that whatever I’d done to deserve a dead end post decided I’d had enough. I was transferred out of the Acadmey, to command a new prototype star destroyer. I took my aide from the Acadmey with me when I got my new post, and began taping recent graduates I knew as a staff. When I arrived a Kuat, the ship was only half finished. It hadn’t even been named yet, so I made an offical petition, and got it named for the Academy. I took her our for her shakedown cruise, and ran into a Rebel convoy, and captured it. My star began to rise again, and before too long, Rebels feared to see the Pride come in system. I finally got my sixth square. And it wasn’t long after that things began to deteriorate.

            “We were attached to the Fifth Fleet at the time, when the Priority signal came through. I was ordered to take the Pride and two Victory-Class Star Destroyers, the Iron Fist and the Corruptor out to Dantooinee. We found the remains of a Rebel base there. And then the word began filtering down through the fleet.

            “Alderaan had been destroyed. The Imperial propaganda said the Rebels had done it. Of course that was a lie. We all knew the truth. The Death Star was no secret to those of us in the fleet. The fighters and personel and material had to be going somewhere. We all knew Tarquin too, we knew his reputation. The truth came out, albeit slowly.

            “I took the Pride to Alderaan. It was a life changing experience. The officers and I composed a letter of protest to High Command. It was not received well. They immediately reassigned us to guarding Wookie slave convoys. Someone must have intervened to keep us from being sacked outright, I’ll never know who. Rogriss maybe. I still believed we could wrestle control from the bad guys. If only enough people in the military could wake up. Some of my officers though, didn’t agree. About six of the top 50 officers on board jumped ship. Most, I heard made it to the Rebel Alliance, some got caught.

            “Word from Yavin filtered down slowly. Privately, I was happy the rebels had stopped Tarquin, and my only regret was the loss of skilled crewers and pilots. I wish they’d gotten Vader, but somehow he escaped Yavin.

            “Day in and day out, we patrolled with slaver ships going in and out of Kashykk, the Wookie homeworld. It was dull, mind numbing work, and we hated it. I hated it, because I hated to be condoning slavery. Until one day, we got an emergency signal from one of the transports. Somehow, a revolt had broken out on the one of the ships, and the Wookies were threatening to take over. Soon it became clear that they had. My standing orders in this case were to shoot down the ship. I couldn’t do it. I refused to give the order, and they jumped to hyperspace, and got away.

            “That was the last straw as far as High Command was concerned. But did they sack me? No, by that point, they couldn’t. I was too famous. So they ordered me out on a long term Supress and Subjugate Mission, giving me the coordinates for some random place in the Unknown Regions that had had a small amount of contact with the outside world. Parkpia was the place. I was ordered to establish an Imperial presence and report back occasionally on progress. It was obvious that everyone thought that with all the weird stuff that went on out here, I would be overwhelmed. I think we’ve come along admirably. I took some liberty with Imperial Decrees, especially given our distance from Coruscant. I like to think my opponents on Coruscant underestimated me, but it seems the danger is never past.

            “And that’s the story of how Admiral Davis and his merry band of Imperials ended up here, in the Unknown Regions.”

            By the time Tom had finished his story, they were finished eating.

            “Will you ever be able to go back?” Shelia asked after a long silence.

            “I have no idea. I don’t even know if they remember I’m out here. It would be a very easy matter for High Command to have forgotton about a rogue admiral and a single star destroyer.”

            There was a chime at the door, Davis walked over and answered it. Farl and Captian Kinkaid burst in, followed by a sandy haired officer Shelia didn’t recognized. They all looked upset, and the officer she didn’t recognize held a datapad in one hand.

            “What is all this?” Daivs demanded.

            Looking chagrined, the three men drew themselves up to attention. “What is it?” Davis asked.

            “Sir…” the new officer began.

            “What is it Torkes? I haven’t got all day.”

            “Sir, Commander Torkes has intercepted electronic communications from a group called the Palpatine Loyalists.”

            “What about them?”

            “The communications indicate they’re dissatisfied with you.”

            “Who isn’t these day?”

            “Sir, they’re members of the crew.”

            “I’m not connecting the dots here people!” Davis was getting frustrated.

            “Sir, they’re plotting mutiny, sir.”

            There was a stunned silence in the cabin, broken only by Shelia dropping her plate.

            The other men turned to stare at her, noticing her for the first time. Kieller, and the one called Torkes, stared at her, mouths agape. Farl closed his eyes and sighed.

            “Sir, I uhh…” Torkes stammered, eyes flickering back and forth between the Admiral and the woman in his quarters. At this hour of the morning…? “I didn’t realize you had a guest, sir.”

            The Admiral sighed, striding over and crouching down to help Shelia clean up the mess. “Its quite alright Commander, this was important enough to be disturbed. Give me a moment. Gentelemen, please take seats in the living room, I’ll be with you momentarily.”

            “Aye sir,” Farl guided the Captain and the Commander to the couches in the living area. Tom helped Shelia put the dirty dishes in the sink, and wiped up the floor with a rag.

            “Should I go?” Shelia finally got up the nerve to ask, after a long silence.

            “Go where?” Tom asked, his mouth quirking up in a grin.

            “Well, if you need to discuss.”

            “we’re not going to be talking about anything you shouldn’t hear. I hardly think you’re a security risk. There may come to be times when I might have to keep something from you for a time. This isn’t one of them. If it would make you feel more comfortable, though, you can wait here in the kitchen, or sit with us. It makes no difference to me.”

            “You’re sure Tom?”

            “Quite sure.” He kissed her on the forehead.

            “I’ll wait here.” She said.

            “Okay.”

            Tom strode over to the living area and folded himself into the large overstuffed chair that had its back to the large viewport. “Very well gentlemen, report.”

            Shelia slid quietly into a chair at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of caf tenderly, grimacing at the strength. She pretended to be absorbed in a magazine that she had found, an ancheint back issue of a weekly called “Corellian Review.” The article in question was a piece on Moff Flirry Vorru.

            “Sir?” Torkes asked questioningly, his gaze drifting in Shelia’s direction.

            “Procceded Commander, there’s nothing here that Miss Medra isn’t cleared for.”

            Swallowing his argument, Torkes began slowly. “Well, sir, we’ve intercepted these communications. They seem to indicate some kind of organized plan of resitantce and muntiny. The problem is, there’s no record of who created the message, or who it was meant for.”

            “How is that possible?”

            “Well sir, the person who created it is obviously very skilled. The coded heading, indicating the author has been changed. The heading is one of a pilot killed in action three years ago. The message, as far as we can tell, was created on a public terminal. It was bounced through several terminals however, so its impossible to truly determine its origin.”

            “How is it we don’t know who it’s intended for?”

            “The mail was delivered, as far as we can determine, to a dummy account. The delivery account was also registered in the name of a sailor who was killed some time ago. It would be impossible to dermine who was logging into this man’s account to retrive the messages. It could be one person, it could be a hundred. Its just sitting there, and anyone with the password can see the messages.”

            “So all we have to do is continue to monitor the message box and wait for them to make their move?” Davis asked.

            Torkes grimaced and looked sheepish. “It would be that simple, except we caught onto this while one our computer control officers was doing a memory sweep of the message system. Apparently there’s been some malicious software released that clogs the bandwidth, and they were tracking it down. Their records found these two accounts that didn’t jive with current personel records, and shut them down.”

            “You’re telling me we found this because Comptuer Control was tracking down a virus? And then they went ahead and closed the accounts before consulting you?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Davis closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Farl grimaced. The look on Davis’s face usually proceeded a blow up, which had become more frequent since arriving in the Unknown Regions. Surprisingly Davis took another breath and stood, pacing in front of the viewport. The Admiral hadn’t avoided a blow up like that since leaving the Core.

            Farl considered. In the last two months, he’d seen a spark returning to the Admiral’s thinking, a spark he hadn’t seen since being pulled from mainline duty. His gaze drifted towards Shelia. Perhaps getting aquainted with the locals had put some fire back in the man, given him a future worth fighting for. It may have also cooled some of his more irrational tendancies. This was a very good thing indeed. A steadying influence may have been just what the Admiral needed.

            “What can be done at the present?” Davis asked.

            “We can increase security,” Torkes offered lamely.

            “And how will we know which security officers to trust, Commander?” Davis asked icily. “For now, it appears that nothing can be done, except to step up vigilance in Internal Security. Commander, how many others know we’ve tapped into this message?”

            “Myself, and the computer control officer who found it, one Ensign Williams. He’s barely out of the academy.”

            “Well, he’s just been seconded to ISB. Until you figure out who else you can trust, trust no one. I can’t have you turning up dead in a back corridor. If these people are as serious to plot muntiny, they must be willing to kill.”

            “Aye sir.”

            “I’ll arrange the transfer, quietly,” Farl added, withdrawing his datapad.

            “You’ve been quiet Patrick.” Davis’s eyes swivled to the man he hoped to make his second in command someday.

            “It’s hard to come to grips with your name being on a hit list, Admiral.”

            Davis chucked. “Get used to it, son, my name was at the top of Rebel hit list for years. If Ackbar couldn’t catch me, nobody will. Was there anything else?”

            “Yes, actually.” Kieller began. “I was going to tell you in the morning but you may as well know now. The pulse mass mines are ready for use, and we’ve got the sensor suppression package functioning on the recon gunboat. Its ready to do a sweep of the target whenever you give the order.”

            “Consider the order given, Captain. I want this cleaned up this week. I’m tired of this, and I’m sure the locals are tired of it as well.” The men chuckled. That was an understatement.

            The convoy system had started, with the newly armed freighters sheperherding their unarmed brethren in large groups from planet to planet. Already, on Halicorn and Urbia, planets without large industrial bases, were hurting for certain commodities and rationing was in place. Davis’s economic advisors also told him that fossil fuels, used to power many heavy industries on Parkpia, were in short supply, and the price was sky rocketing. Rationing there was only a week away, unless the threat was dealt with.

            “Anything else?” Davis asked, rising.

            “No sir,” the men chorused, standing as well, obviously taking the hint to depart.

            “Very well, I’ll see you all later, I’m sure.

            “Aye aye, sir.” The men filed out, and the door slid shut behind them. Tom groaned. “One more thing to worry about.”

            “Will you be alright?” Shelia asked immeditaly.

            “Oh, I’m sure everything will turn out fine,” Tom assured her. “Its not me I’m worried about. This will probably blow over. Torkes though, has a tendancy to be a little high strung.”

            “Tom, your own men want to kill you! How can you be so calm?”

            “Its probably just a few crack pots. Nothing to worry about, honey.” Tom looked at his wrist crono. “The shops will be opening in an hour or so. Just enough time for a morning run before we go shopping.”

            “Morning run?”

 

Ten minutes later, clad in work out clothes checked out from the Pride’s athletic facility, Shelia found herself jogging on a long oval track in a huge athletic complex contained entirely within the massive star destroyer. The size boggled her. The gym was a large L-shaped room, which Tom told her took up a good portion of Deck 28.  A ten-lane, half-kilometer track looped around the bottom leg of the L, with gymnastic equipment and unidentifiable pieces of sports paraphernalia scattered within it.

The second, longer leg was divided into a weight and aerobic room, pool, zero-G room, a playing field with fake grass that could be demarcated for any number of sports or stripped entirely, and several multipurpose rooms, one of which, Davis told her, his Executive Officer, a Commodore Szycho kept continually set up as a martial arts studio.

            They jogged along the track, chatting amiably at first, but Tom’s pace was soon reducing her to heavy breathing. He slowed down according, and soon she found her stride again. There were a few others out on this morning, including, she noted, a full squad of Stormtroopers, jogging in cadence around the track in some kind of morning calisthenics.  

            “Do they always do that?” Shelia asked as they thundered past.

            “Oh yeah. If not this group some other group. They alternate their warm up areas. Some groups run laps around the hangar. We try to keep them apart, since we’d rather have them patrolling, and not racing each other around the track, either in speed or endurance.”

            “’Scuse me, sir, ma’am.” A younger man went jogging past them. Tom nodded.

            “They don’t salute here?” Shelia asked.

            “Kind of silly to force them, don’t you think?” Tom said, “Its an unwritten rule. You don’t have to salute the Admiral when he’s in his gym clothes. It makes me feel kind of silly.”

            “Do you exercise often?” Shelia asked. It had been months since she’d last done any kind of exercise.

            Tom grinned sheepishly. “I just started up again after a hiatius. I used to be able to run with the stormtrooper squads, but I’m not quite back into shape yet. I’m jogging and practicing my martial arts.”

            “Really? What kind?”

            “I’m marginally proficant in a art called K’thri. I’m no where near the level of some of my officers, who’ve made it almost a religion. Commadore Szycho, for example, is a grand master. It prefer to spend my time in the TIE fighter simulators, but their not good for the figure, you understand.”

            “Naturally.”

            “I also take some marksmanship practice. I don’t have to want to rely on my close combat skills. I’d rather have a blaster.”

            Shelia nodded. “There’s a shooting range here as well?”

            “Yes, its down on Deck 48, near the army barracks.”

            “How many beings are on this ship?”

            “Nearly 45,000. Well, less now, we’ve detached a lot of the army units for protection of planetary facilities.”

            “My stars,” Shelia’s eyes could barely wrap around the concept.

            Tom grinned. “C’mon, just a few more laps.” He said, encouraging her on.

            “How many laps do you run?”

            “I usually run 3 klicks.”

            “Three kilometers?” Shelia was astonished.

            “Gotta stay in shape, hon, or I won’t fit into my dress uniform. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

            They jogged around the track, and Tom became conscious of her closeness, her scent, and the way her work out clothes accented her slim figure. He shook his head to clear it, and began concentrating on battle plans. Here, in tight workout clothes, the potential for embarrassment was large.

            Shelia was relishing in Tom’s presence. His skin had a sheen of sweat on it, which she found very masculine and attractive. His hair was an unruly mop on his head, and she just wanted to tangle her fingers in it.

            “Whew,” Sheila exclaimed, as the slowed to a slow jog as the finished the final lap. She grabbed her ankle and pulled her leg up to her back, stretching it out. Tom copied her action, and then touched his toes.

            “Good work out?” he asked, as she panted.

            “Yeah, real good. Its been a long time since I excercised.” She sat down in a split and began to reach for her toes. Tom squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and thought about Darth Vader.

            “You know how to get back to the locker room?” Tom asked, catching two towels from the attendant.

            “Yep,” Shelia replied, brushing her hair back out of her face, and catching the towel that he relayed to her. Tom put his towel around his neck.

            “I’ll see you in a few minutes, met you out front.”

            “Okay.”

            Stars, he’s sexy. Shelia thought, feeling her skin tingle.

 

            Under the beating of a very cold shower, Tom considered things.  On one level, he knew that eventually he and Shelia might take that next step in their relationship. But he hadn’t really considered it seriously until now.

            Stars, its been a long time. He’s never been like others in his squadron, he’d never enganged in the kind of rowdy carousing his squadmates had participated it. He’d never stooped to hiring a “professional companion”. For a while, it had been easy to excuse his celibate behavior on his devotion to his lost love, which got him a pass from the other guys in his squadron. So, in a way, when it finally happened, it had been something of a surprise. She had been a pilot, one of the few he’d ever seen in Imperial service. Felise been a shuttle pilot, but she hung out in the pilots lounge, and every man in the room had hit on her, except him. Which may have been why she gravitated toward him, a safe place where she could talk. When he’d told her he’d been transferred, they’d gone out for some drinks. There wasn’t much he remembered about that night, but he remembered waking up beside her, with a jackhammer in his head, and her grinning at him. He wished he could remember more. He later found out she’d been killed, trying to escape the horrible conditions for women in the Imperial navy, she’d been trying to defect.

            The one other lover he’d been involved with had been a secretary at the Academy. It hadn’t been love, it been lust. A grin tugged at his faced as he remembered the torrid affair, an out of control thing, that was one excersice in courting exposure after another. He had a shamefully pleasurable memory of his old desk in the commandant’s office. So, it had been at least 4 years since the last time. But neither time had really been love. He might have had some affection for Felise, but he’d never really had the chance to know.  He thought about Shelia again, and how it might be. He was falling in love with her, yes, he knew that much. He believed, no matter how adventurous he’d been four years ago, that it had to be better with someone he loved. That thought made him reach up and turn up the cold water.

 

            Shelia dryed off, and began to dress. She’s seen the way Tom had looked at her. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her like that. She knew why he’d beat a hasty retreat to the safty of a probably cold shower. She was secretly thrilled that she had that affect on him. It made her feel sexy, desireable, and beautiful. These were things she didn’t normally feel. She was the middle child in every sense.

            Tamaria was the one endowed with the stunning good looks in the family, and she made good use of what nature had provided her. She was also endowed with the brains in the family. So she had stayed single, flirting, having torrid affairs, generally scandalizing her father, as well as pursuing her higher degree.

            Fiona, on the other hand, was the least attractive, in everyone’s opinion. She was also the dullest. That was by no means to say she was ugly, nor was she stupid. Compared to Tamaria, though, she wasn’t nearly the bright star. And she knew it, so when she snagged her husband, she was perfectly content to quit school and settle down. 

            Shelia was stuck in the middle. She wasn’t stunning, but she was attractive, at least that’s what people told her. And she was smart enough to complete a four year degree at Parkpia University and graduate with honors. She couldn’t do the astrophysics in her head the way Tamaria could, but she got by. Tom made her feel sexy, desired. She hadn’t felt that way since college, and giving in then was something she had regretted till today. She had thought it was love, but it hadn’t turned out that way.

            She smiled to herself as she thought about Tom, and hoped and prayed that this wouldn’t turn out the same way.

           

            They’d arrived back on planet just as Parkpia City was waking up again. The limo had pulled up in front of one of the city’s more classy fashion botiques, and after making arrangements with the manager, Tom had been politely banished. Shelia said she wanted to surprise him. They’d called Tamaria on the way to the planet, and she would be arriving in moments to help Shelia pick out a dress. Meanwhile, Tom, uniformed, wandered up and down the main street, accompanied by two uniformed security personell. He shook hands and greeted a shocked and surprised populace that had woken up to find the Admiral in their midst. He passed several jewelery stores, and felt something tug him toward them. He peered in the windows, making a more than casual inspection of their wares. Soon however, he became conscious of reporters shadowing him, and decided that speculation on what kind of jewelry he was interested in was dangerous. He moved along quickly.

            He was continueing his window shopping, when his eye caught a real estate office. He’d always dreamed of owning a home someday, and home improvement was his secret passion. His eye caught an ad in the corner of the window.

 

            “Estate Auction! Three story Manor home in Carolton, only five minute walk from transit stop! 11+ acre grounds and gardens! Outbuildings include stables and severnt’s quarter’s housing perfect for guests! 4 bedrooms, 4.5 baths. Unfinished basement waiting for your personal touch!”

 

The picture showed a red brick mansion, with white trim and columns. The driveway looped around in front of the house, and lot map showed the gardens and the positions of the outbuildings.

            It was perfect, he decided. But he couldn’t go walking in there and buy the place outright. He had to do this right. He needed a lawyer. He began to walk to back toward the boutique. He stood thinking outside the store when her turned, and saw the sign in the window of the small shop next to the boutique. The sign, faded, and aged, read “Fromm and Son, Attorneys at Law” He turned to his escort. “One of you stay here, the other can come in.”

            “Aye sir.”

            He tried the door handle, belatedly realizing that on a Saturday, it might not even be open. But the door swung open and he stepped into.

            The interior of the office was filled with paper, dust and books. There was an air of busyness to the office, despite the ever present dust.

            “Hello?” Davis called out.

            “Who’s there?” a young harried voice called from the back. “Come on back.”

            Davis followed the voice to a cramped office filled with books and files. “Attorny Fromm?” Davis asked, seeing the very young man behind the large woden desk.

            “That’s right, what can I do for you?” he asked, without looking up from his terminal.

            “I’d like to ask about placing you on retainer.”

            The man began to laugh. “On retainer? Who do you think I am, a cooperate attorney?” he turned to look at Davis. His eyes widened and he shot to his feet. “Oh my stars.”

            Davis laughed. “Its okay.”

            “Please, Admiral, have a…er…here,” the lawyer came around the desk, and unceremoniously dumped the contents of one of the chairs onto the floor. “Have a seat.”

            “Thank you. I hope that wasn’t anything important.”

            “Probably not. Its is…was, rather, my father’s office. I haven’t had time to clean it out.”

            “Has your father retired?”

            “No, he’s passed away.”

            “I’m terribly sorry.”

            “It was five years ago. We’ve moved on.”

            You’ve obviously been very busy if you still haven’t cleaned out the office. “What kind of law do you practice, Attorney Fromm?” Davis asked.

            “A little bit of everything really,” he said, clearing up some desk space. “I work with the public defender’s office, as well, as working on my own cases. Mainly though, I specalize in helping people with their problems. That’s why I stay open on Saturday. Many of my clients can’t come during the work week.” Davis began to connect the dots.

            “So you’re kind of a street crusader lawyer,” Davis replied.

            “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way…”

            “Street crusader is right, and that’s where he’ll be working from unless you get a real client.” A tall, ageing thin woman, with a nasal voice strode in, planting a bag of food on the desk. “Eat.”

            “Admiral, this is my receptionist, Ilse,” Attorney Fromm waved at the woman.

            “Ooooh! A real client!” Ilse said.

            “All my clients are real, Ilse,” Fromm was getting annoyed.

            “Well, I suppose, if you count the ones who can’t pay their bills, or offer to work them off. How many times has the exterior been painted? How many restaurants and grocers do you go into and never have to pay?”

            “I pay!” He protested.

            “And I get the money back in the mail! How do you think the rent gets paid around here! And my salary!”

            “Ilse, I have a client?” Fromm was pinching the bridge of his nose. Davis had a smirk on his face.

            “Hummph.” She stormed off.

            “I’m sorry Admiral.”

            “Its quite alright.”

            “What can I do for you?”

            “Well, I was hoping to put you on retainer for one or two small transactions I hoped to make.”

            “I won’t do anything underhanded,” Fromm began warningly.

            “I wouldn’t dream of asking you,” the Admiral replied, “On the contrary, I think you’ll find what I have in mind completely aboveboard, simple, and for you, very profitable.”

            Davis left a while later, and both he and Attorney Fromm, and his receptionist, were very pleased with the arrangement.

           

 

            “Oh gods, Shelia, its gorgous.”

            Shelia turned once, looking at herself in the full length mirrors in the boutique. She and Tamaria had been looking for almost an hour when they found this dress at the back of the rack.

            Its was a pale blue, and it shimmered as it moved. It was a perfect size. Shelia felt absolutely poured into the dress. It was tight at the top, with a plunging neckline, and thin straps. From the empire waist it flowed down to a full length gown. In heels, the dress would just clear the floor. And there was no back to the dress. The back of the dress started somewhere around her waist. She felt radiant, like some kind of fairy tail princess.

            “Wow, girl, that’s a perfect fit. Your Admiral isn’t going to want to do anything except get you out of that dress.”

            “Tamaria!” Shelia scolded, blushing bright red.

            “Oh, don’t give me the wounded look, sister, you know you were thinking it.”

            Shelia blushed again. The fact was, she was thinking of it.

            “Shelia, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of here. You’re clearly in love with the man, and he’s clearly in love with you. I’m only surprised that you haven’t done it yet. Or have you?” Tamaria studied her sister.

            “Tam! Stop it.”

            “Nope, if you had, you’re voice would have gotten higher there, rather than lower.”

            “Tam!”

            “Oh, come on Shelia. I tell you all about my men, at least give me a little insight into yours. I mean, I know it’s a little different. You’re all lovey dovey, and such, but I’m insanly curious. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

            Shelia gave in and giggled. “I was thinking about it this morning, when we were jogging, and he was all sweaty and masculine. Oh gods…” she sighed.

            “You went jogging with him?”

            “3 kilometers, around the track in the Star Destroyer.”

            “were there any other hot guys?” Tam asked with intrest.

            “I wasn’t paying attention,” Shelia admitted. “And he was defiantly noticing me. When I started stretching out afterwards, he defeniatly, beat a hasty retreat to a cold shower.”

            “Sing is sister! Oh, man, Shelia, what a lucky girl you are. He loves you, and he’s a hunk. And he’s a rich hunk, too. How could it get any better?”

            Shelia shook her head. “I don’t know.”

 

            Shelia delivered back to her apartment, Davis returned to the Pride. News was waiting.

            “Sir, the reports from the reconnisance run are in.” Kieller reported the moment the ramp was down on his shuttle.

            “Excellent. Have the pilot sent up to the Command Room at once.  I want his impressions as well as the data.”

            Ten minutes later, Davis, Kieller, Szycho, Torkes and the pilot were standing in a crowed Command Room, looking at the reconnaissance data.

            “As you can see, Admiral,” Torkes was saying. “The pirates are fairly well organized.”

            That much was obvious. There were more ships in orbit than he expected. The bulk of the ships were converted cargo vessels, but there was a lone Sienar System Patrol craft present, which indicated that this new group had to have come from the Core. There was a biodome in place on one of the moons, meaning they had a ground based location within which to affect repairs to the larger starships without having to work in zero-g suits.

            “Were you spotted?” he asked the pilot.

            “No, sir. The sensor stealthing worked perfectly. They didn’t even know I was there.”

            “How close did you get?”

            “I was about 20 klicks away, sir.”

            “That should be far enough out they shouldn’t have been paying too close attention.”

            “I think they’re getting ready to hit another target, sir.” The pilot ventured.

            “Oh? Why is that Lieutenant?”

            “Well, sir, there was a lot of movement. While I was there, three shuttles docked from the bio dome to ships in orbit. They’re either re-provisioning, or getting ready to hit something else.”

            “Torkes?”

            “The evidence does fit those conclusions, sir.”

            “Well, we’d best get moving. I want to hit them while they’re all at home, and the best time to do that is right after a raid, so lets get a move on.”

            “Aye, aye, sir.”

 

            Shelia was standing in her apartment, modeling her dress again, admiring herself in the mirror. “We’ll need to do something with your hair,” Tamaria said, from her perch on the coutch.

            “Hmmm,” Shelia considered. You thinking try and put it up somehow?”

            “Yeah…” the computer console pinged. Shelia carefully lifted her skirt, and made her way over there. 

            “Well, Tom’s off. He says hi, and that he’ll see me next weekend.”

            “Do you think he’s found the pirates yet?”

            “I hope so.” Shelia made her way back across the room.

            “Oh, one other thing, hon.” Tam began slowly.

            “What?”

            “I can see your panty line. You might want to consider…”

            “Tam!”

 

 

            Waiting was a mind numbing part of any military exercise. Admiral Davis fidgeted in his command chair, as the Pride of Carida hung suspended in space, only a half light year away from the pirates hideaway. The reconnaissance gunboat had been inserted several hours ago, and they were lying in wait for the pirates to return to their base of operations. All seemed quiet. As soon as the raiding party returned, Davis would jump the Pride into the system, deploy the pulse mass mines, and have everything in one neat, simple package.

            Nothing in his life was ever neat, or simple. That worried him. He looked at his crono. “Commander Wilford, status report?” Kieller was in the Command Room, waiting for word of a pirate raid. Wilford was one of the men who Davis had tapped, straight out of the Academy, and so far, he hadn’t been disappointed. He and Kieller were fast friends, and in one corner of his mind, he could see Wilford standing just next to Kieller’s command chair, someday, when the Pride would be Kieller’s.

            “Everything is in the green Admiral, we’re ready to go on your say so.”

            “Good.” Everything was fine. Why was he so nervous? Granted, it had been a long time since he’d lead the ship into a running fight, but the odds were no where near equal. A bunch of tramp freighters, some snubfighters. Nothing really to concern himself with. “Command Vance, how is that number 3 turbo laser battery?”

            Vance, his weapons officer, looked up at him from the crew pit. “It can only traverse in the forward arc at the moment, but that should be sufficient for this battle. We’re still looking into it. If we wait much longer, it should be fixed.” Vance was a competent man, knew his business. Davis fidgeted in his chair again. Silently, he willed time forward. He wanted this over with. He could almost smell victory in his grasp.

            “Admiral?”

            Davis turned to see one his public relations men. “Yes?”

            “I have a request from the holojournalists imbedded with us.”

            “Well, go on.”

            “They want to know if they can have acess to our holonet transmitter to broadcast the battle coming up.”

            Davis considered. This could work well for him. “Grant their request, but I want the signal routed through our consoles here, so we can cut it off if necessary.”

            “I’ll see to it Admiral.”

            Just then, Kieller came rushing in. “Report on the holonet, sir,” he handed Davis a datapad.

            The pirates had hit a convoy assembling near Urbia. The convoy had held, fighting the pirates to a draw. They had withdrawn, probably for fear the Pride would appear at any moment. Davis did some mental calculations. “Very good. Travelling directly here, which they won’t,  they’ll return in six hours. That means they’ll probably get back here in close to 8. That gives us enough time to put in an appearnce at Halicorn, to throw them off the scent.”

            “Aye, aye sir.”

 

            A new day was dawning on Parkpia, and Shelia followed her usual morning routine, before heading for the school building. The day was dark, and a steady drizzle made it seem all the worse. Shelia was determined not to let it affect her mood. She had been resolved to get up early and run a kilometer, to try and increase her pace, so she could keep up with Tom on what she hoped would become a regular tradition of morning jogs, but the rainy skies had dissuaded her of that idea, at least temporarily. Her friend Hillary was waiting for her when she arrived in her classroom.

            “Busy weekend?”

            “You could say that,” Shelia said without looking up from her papers. Hillary cleared her throat. She looked up. There was a huge vase of flowers in the center of the desk. Shelia’s eyes widened in surprise. She took the card. “Oh, its from the Carmson’s.”

            “The Carmsons? As in Rachel’s parents?” Hillary was confused.

            “Yes. Rachel had a breakdown Friday night at the game. Tom and I took her to the hospital.”

            “Oh. What happened?”

            “One of her close friends was killed in the raid last week.”

            “Oh.” Hillary, sighed and sat down in a student desk. “And here I was hoping for juicy details of a romantic weekend.”

            Shelia grinned, “Sorry to dissapoint you.”

            “Well, besides helping teenagers, what did you do this weekend?”

            “I got to see his cabin. Its nice. Has a lived in look. Did you know that a Star Destroyer has an athletic track in it? And a ball field?”

            “Inside the ship?”

            “Completely. And an indoor shooting range apparently.”

            “Wow. What else did you do this weekend?”

            “I found a dress.”

            “Really!? What’s it look like?”

            Shelia went on to describe the dress.

            “You’ll have to get me pictures,” Hillary said as the bell rang and she headed out the door.

            “Will do,” Shelia replied.

           

 

            Davis looked at the crono displaying the times on the various planets. This was going to make one hell of an evening news broadcast on Parkpia.

            “Is my flagship ready Captain?” Davis asked.

            “The Pride of Carida is fully at your command Admiral.”

            “Excellent. And our prey?”

            “Unsuspecting as ever,” Kieller grinned predatorily.

            “Excellent…Captain?”

            “Prepare for Lightspeed! On my mark, 3-2-1”

            The starlines elongated as the Pride entered lightspeed. It took only a few moments for the huge ship to comeplete the half-light year mircojump into the pirate’s hideaway. Immediately, a Lambda-class shuttle launched and began shooting out bright purple orbs. The pulse mass mines prevented the pirates from going to hyperspace. Davis keyed his com “Attention, Pirate forces. You are trapped. Power down your weapons and surrender, or be destroyed.”

            There was no response, only pirate ships bringing turbolasers to bear. “Lauch all TIE fighters, and fire at will.”

            The battle was joined.

 

            Shelia was in the middle of her last class, when an insistant rapping came at the door. She opened it to let in a frazzled looking Hillary. “What is it?”

            “Turn on the holo.” Hillary said, rushing over to do it herself.

            “…live pictures from the Pride of Carida showing an attack against a pirate hideout progressing rapidly.” The voice over was describing the scene, but Shelia could see immeditaly that the pictures had to have been produced from a forward control area, looking out over the long nose of the ship. “Again these are live pictures from our correspondants on the ship” Green turbolaser batteries flashed, and explosions flared, as tiny ships spun out of control and exploded.

            “My gods,” Shelia sucked in a breath as TIE fighters went screaming into battle. Tom used to do that, fly headlong into danger, lasers flashing. Now he ordered men into battle. Fuzzy explosions detonated in space around the large ship.

            “They’re detonating on the shields,” one of her students observed, pointing to the explosions around the ship.

 

            “Shelid status?” Admiral Davis snapped. The battle, raging for nearly an hour now, was reaching its climax.

            “Forward shields holding at 87%, all other holding steady at 100%,” Commander Harrison called from his crew pit.

            “Admiral?”

            Davis turned and looked up in surprise. Captain van Der Witt, the head of the Imperial Security Buerau did not often make his way to the bridge, preferring to keep to himself. “Yes Captian?”

            “A word?”

            “I’m rather busy at the moment, Captain.” Davis replied testily.

            “It will only take a moment.”

            “Very well. Hold stead on this course, keep up the firing.” Davis stepped down from his chair…

            Suddenly, Torkes, and with a young Lieutenant trailing him burst onto the bridge. “Admiral wait!” Torkes eyes were flashing and he had his side arm out.

            “What is the meaning of this?” Davis demanded, and turned back to see van Der Witt pointing a blaster a him. Too late he understood. “You.” He spoke to van Der Witt quietly accusingly. All eyes on the bridge were on the men, and some had produced sidearms. Those who didn’t have any, Davis guessed, were the ones he could trust. Too bad that how he could tell.

            “Yes me.” van Der Witt spoke. “Did you think we were actually going to let you get away with your schemes? Your “reinterpreiations” of Imperial law? That abomination of a speech you gave? Oh no, Admiral, you will pay for your crimes.”

            “ADMIRAL!” a voice shrieked and everyone turned. One of the pirate’s freighters, small, but large enough cause alarm, was bearing down on the bridge.

            “Redirect all firepower!” Davis ordered. For a moment the muinteners faltered. Turbolasers began raking the ship, but it didn’t slow. “Roll to port!” the big ship began to roll, agonizingly slowly. The freightere kept coming, but it was slower now, and suddenly it jerked downward. “Sound collision!” Davis screamed, and klaxons begain wailing throughout the ship.

            The dying freighter impacted along the forward ridgeline, and then detonated in a brillant explosion that knocked everyone off their feet. Hand began to grab at him, and suddenly their was an ominous cracking sound. “CLEAR THE BRIDGE!” Davis bellowed, and everyone was suddenly moving, the cracking sound growing louder. He felt himself being dragged. Blasters were pointed in every direction, and then they were outside the bridge. He stood, and watched the last man slip through. “Close the blast doors,” he ordered calm, and they slid shut. A moment later, they heard a muffled thud, and a rushing sound. Atmosphere alarms were sounding dimly on the other side of the doors. Davis turned, and found himself staring down the barrel of Commander Vance’s blaster.

            “You realize that this is treason,” he stated calmly.

            “No, Admiral, you’re the traitor here. You were too popular back in the Core to execute, so we’ll save the Emperor the trouble.” van Der Witt said, dusting himself off.

            “You’ll never get away with this,” Commander Wilford stood next to the Admiral.

            “Oh yes we will. When we report the Admiral and his staff didn’t make it off the bridge…” Torkes and the others came skidding around the corner just as van Der Witt reached for all ships address.

            “Halt!” Torkes ordered. And all hell broke loose.

            Blaster fire filled the air. Davis felt someone shove him out of the way, and a scream in agony.

            “Someone please cut off the holocomm access for those damned holojounralists,” Davis pleaded. This was the last thing he watned reported.

 

            Shelia had watched the freighter’s explosion, her face rapidly paling, as she could see areas of deck ripped open and exposed to vacuum.

            “…no word yet on how bad the damage is,” the distant voice was saying “we’re wating on offical word.” There was a long pause. “We’re getting unsubstaited reports that…” and suddenly the transmission dissolved into static, replaced quickly by news anchors on Parkpia. Shelia looked around the empty classroom. Her students had gone home an hour ago. She had remained, glued to the action on the screen. Other teachers had dropped in and gone, leaving her to watch intently, and suddenly, she was without her link. She felt frantic no knowing what had happened. What had happened? Had they cut the transmission, to prevent something from getting out? Was it damage from the blast? She breathed a prayer that Tom would be alright.

 

            Davis squirmed under the weight that landed on top of him. It was Wilford, a smoking hole where his chest should have been. “Oh Derek,” Davis squeezed his eyes tightly against the pain of losing a loyal subordinate. He would mourn later. For now, he was trapped in the middle of a lightfight, and had to extract himself somehow.

            He began to move try and crawl away. van Der Witt and his cronies were putting up a hell of a fight, and at the moment their seemed to be more of them. But they weren’t paying any attention to him, and he was behind them.

            The human knee, he heard the voice of his unarmed combat instructor back at the Acadamy, is a delightfully fragile point of attack. Getting himself up into a crouch, he prepared himself, and then stood quickly, swining his leg out, and connecting with the back of Vance’s knee. Vance screamed and crumbled. Davis plucked his blaster out of his hand as he went down, flicked the switch to stun, and pumped a shot into him, as he dove for the cover of the secondary com console. He reached up and touched a command.

            “Now here this, now here this! This is Admiral Davis. Treasonous elements of the crew have attacked the bridge and are attempting to wrest control of this ship. These attempt are to be resisted by every man. That is all.”

            By now, there should have been a dozens of stormtroopers sweaping into the bridge anteroom, but there were not, which only lead Davis to believe that there were more muitineers. Davis carefully aimed his blaster, and fired at one of the muitnineers, and had the satifaction of seing him drop. But the odds were not in the loyalists favor. Most of the bridge officers who were lined up on his side were not armed, and despite their larger numbers, were hesitant to charge headlong into blaster fire. Torkes went down hard, hit in the shoulder, and before someone could scoop up his blaster, a well placed shot caught it and exploded the powerpack, sending burning hot shards of metal into the crowd.

            “Give it up Admiral,” van Der Witt called out, over the silence. “Your treasonous reign has come to an end.

            Davis kept silent, hoping that van Der Witt didn’t actually know where he was. He tried to slip further into the shadows behind the console. The five or six mutineers came out into the open, holding blasters on the crowd. They rounded up the men and began herding them into the conference room behind the bridge ante area. Carefully, they began searching the corners of the area for Davis. Daivs tried to stay hidden behind the console, but could see it would be in vain. Waiting for a his opportunity, he bolted toward an emergency set of stairs, which was only used if the turbolifts were down. He wrestled with the door, when he felt the cold tip of  blaster touch the back of his neck.

            “Not so fast, Admiral.” It was van Der Witt’s voice. For the first time, Davis tasted fear in his mouth. Why now? Why couldn’t this have happened before he met Shelia, so she wouldn’t feel the hurt? He didn’t fear his own death, he feared for her.

            “You’ll never get away with this, van Der Witt.” He spat.

            “Maybe not, but I can at least take you with me, you traitor.” A clatter across the room, and finally, too late, back up had arrived.

            “Freeze!” The stormtrooper squadleader ordered. He took a blaster bolt to his faceplate, and the others began to open fire. van Der Witt grabbed Davis by the collar, and wrenched the emergency door open, and they fell through, in to the stairwell. Davis seized the moment. As they stumbled through the doorway, Davis grabbed the man’s blaster arm, and brought it down across his knee, hearing a satisfying pop, and a yelp from van Der Witt. The blaster skittered across the floor, and Davis lunged for it, but van Der Witt got their first because it had slid away from Davis. Davis threw a roundhouse kick that caugh van Der Witt in the face, and he staggered back, trying to bring the blaster to bear in his unfamiliar hand. Davis tackeled him and for a moment the blaster was sandwitched between them. van Der Witt kicked at him, and sank his teeth into Davis’s shoulder. Flinching in pain, Davis pulled them sideways, and suddenly, the began to roll, faster. His head was rattling as they rolled a complete flight of stairs down. There was a flash of light and Davis felt a burning sensation across his shoulder, and hear a scream of agaony from van Der Witt. The blaster had fired, somehow. The came to a halt at the landing and Davis staggered up. His shoulder was burned, but not badly. van Der Witt has a crease across his face from the burning hot blaster barrel. He unsteadily brought the blaster to bear, and Davis started to dodge, but tripped, and took the bolt in his upper thigh. He tried to bit back a scream, but failed. van Der Witt began to laugh, and cough up blood, and tried to bring the blaster around for a kill shot, when Davis grabed the man’s fracture right wrist and twisted. van Der Witt gave a bloodcurdling scream of agony, and dropped the blaster. Davis pulled the man to his feet with a great deal of effort, and shoved him backwards. Van Der Witt fell backwards onto the raling of the plaform, perched over what seemed like a bottomless emergency stairwell. The flimsy railing bent, creaked once, and gave way, and van Der Witt’s scream echoed up and down the corridor as he fell down the center of the shaft. Davis sagged against the wall of the shaft, closing his eyes for a moment, but the rush of adrenaline that had kept him upright on his wounded leg wore of, and his leg gave way, and Davis flet himself tumbling down another flight of stairs. There was a large bang, and all was black.

 

            Shelia was home, watching the live holovid on replay again. It was late in the evening. Tamaria had stopped by earlier to make sure she was okay. Fiona had called. Hillary had called. Rachel had called. They’d all told her to go to bed. Easy for them to say. She’d go to bed when she found out Tom was okay.

 

            The pulse mass mines that had won the day for Davis’s forces also prevented them from leaving the system right away. The pirates had been routed. Most preferred death to capture, and the Imperial TIE pilots, enraged at a mutiny they couldn’t do anything about, had been happy to oblige. There were only a handful of survivors, and the base had been totally razed. Captain Kieller, his arm in a sling, looked out from the repaired bridge. The crack in the transpirsteel had been small, and pached easily. The other damage, however, was not as easily repairable. The forward ridgeline had been devestted by the explosion, and unarmored areas were particually hard hit. They’d lost 5 turbolaser positions, and the crews, and the areas that had vented to vacuum had reported heavy casualties.  Worse still, the failed mutiny had cause signifigant casualties. Most of the suspects were now dead or in custody, but a high price had been paid. Most of the bridge crew, those that were loyal anyway, had been wounded or killed. Commadore Szycho was in the sickbay, with what appeared to be some kind of poisoning, which obviously had been designed to keep him out of the way. And the Admiral… Kieller just wanted to get out of this Force forsaken system as quickly as possible.

 

            It was the wee hours of the morning when a knock came on Shelia’s door. She opened it to revel her security detail, and Lieutant Bryne. “Ma’am, if you could come with us?”

            “What is it? What’s wrong?”

            “I’m afraid I can’t comment on that at the moment ma’am.”

            They left hurriedly, and the utility vehicle they put her in screamed through town with a siren on. They went to the military base, instead of the spaceport, and she was soon boarding a shuttle. There were other women on board, most were young women like herself. They all bore the same, scared look. Shelia took a seat near a window, and gazed out at it silently. No one spoke. The shuttle lifted off and made for space. Within moments, they’d broken out of the atmosphere. Suddenly, with a jerk that left her momentarily disoriented and nauseous, the stars outside her window elongated and went spinning by in a bright tunnel. So this was hyperspace, a portion of her brain was amazed. The ride only lasted a few moments, before there was a marked deacceleration, and the stars resolved themselves into pinpoints of light. And there, in her window, was the Pride of Carida. She gasped, and the women crowded around the windows.

            The topmost plateau of the ship was blackened, and armor plating was bent as if by an angry giant trying to rip the ship open like a can. The pristine white paint was singed all the way up to the bridge. The distance closed rapidly, and soon they were in the massive hanger. Shelia could hear the other women muttering softly, some as if in prayer. The ramp let down, and they began to file off. Officers met them at the bottom of the ramp, point the direction they had to go, but she felt an hand touch her shoulder. She turned to look.

            Farl had a bandage around his head, with an angry red spot on it, and Captain Keiller had his arm in a sling. She gasped. “What happened?”

            Farl, smiled sofly. “I hit my head when that freighter blew up. Got a nice gash. I’ll be alright. The Captain here is the real hero, though. He’s took a blaster bolt to the shoulder.”

            “Blaster bolt?” They were walking toward a turbolift.

            “I’m afraid those Palpatine Loyalists decided the jig was up, and they’d better move before they got caught.”

            “There was a mutiny?” Shelia was astounded. Tom had been so confident it wouldn’t happen.

            “Yes, ma’am.” Kielller offered. “But we’ve rounded them all up. They won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

            “Where’s Tom?” she asked as they stepped into the turbolift. Farl and Kieller exchanged a look. Farl spoke to the computer.

            “Medical Bay Delta.”

            Shelia’s eyes widened. “Is he hurt badly?”

            “His injuries were serious, yes. But he’ll recover.” Farl finnaly looked her in the eyes and told her. “You’ll need to be prepared though. He’s still floating in the bacta tank. The doctor wants him in their for at least 14 hours. He suffered a blaster wound to his upper right leg that shattered and melted his hip bone. He had a signifgant burn across his shoulder, and he’s got a broken arm and several broken ribs. He also has a concussion.”

            “what happened?” she gasped.

            “There was a hand to hand struggle between the Admiral and the leader of the mutineers. It took place on a set of stairs. There’s an indication that they both tumbled down several flights before the Admiral succeeded in deafeating his foe.

            “My stars…” Shelia was horrified.

            The door slid open and they stepped out into a medical area. There were several couches, and the whole room was bathed in a light green glow. Shelia looked up. The glow was cast by a pair of green tubes, filled with a liquid. Only one of the tubes was occupied.

            Eyes closed, and naked except for a diaper looking contraption private areas, and a breath mask on his face Tom bobbed slowly in the greenish liquid. An angry red welt traced across his shoulder, and a black, carbon encrusted hole was at the top of his right thigh. She walked over and pressed her hand to the tube’s walls.

            “Can he see me?” She asked.

            “Well, he’ll be unconscious for a time, but when he does wake, he’ll only be able to see things that are immediately pressed on the glass. So if you do notice he wakes, put your hand on the glass. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” Farl offered.

            “I can stay here?” Shelia questioned.

            “Of course, that’s what this area is designed for. There are some pillows and blankets ehre, if you need to get some sleep. If you need food, press the ordely call button on the table, and one will take your order. The doctor will probably be by later to check on him.” Farl said.

            “Is there anything else we can get you right now?” Kieller asked.

            “No, thank you,” Shelia said, her eyes fixed on the floating figure.

            Silently, the two officers left. Shelia pulled out a blanket, and curled up on the couch, her eyes never leaving Tom, until they finally shut from total exhaustion.

           

            Shelia woke up with a start and blinked. The green glow still illuminated the room. She blinked her eyes once and sat up. A figured was silhouetted against the tank, pressing a hand to the smooth glass. Tom was still unconscious in the tank. She paused, trying to place the shadow standing infront of her.

            “Captain?” she spoke quietly. Kieller turned and saw her. He looked embarrassed.

            “I’m sorry if I woke you ma’am.”

            “No, you didn’t. Its quite all right.” She motioned for him to approach. “Sit down a moment Captain, you look tired.” Hesitatnly, Kieller acquiesced. He looked young under any circumstances, this evening he looked very young, as he sat down with his sling. “When do you get off duty?” she asked him.

            “Oh, I just got off. Colonel Edmunton has come in to take command, and he ordered me to get some rest. But I thought I’d come here and check on the Admiral before I went back to my cabin.”

            “I’m sure Tom appreciates it.” There was a pause. “Your parents must be very proud of you, so young to have risen so high.”

            “I don’t have any parents ma’am, they were killed.”

            Shelia was horrified. “I’m terribly sorry.”

            “Its alright, it was a long time ago. My father was killed in the Clone Wars, he was an officer in the Republic Navy. My mother was killed in a speeder accident when I was in secondary school. I was taken in by my father’s second in command. The navy was all the family I’ve had for a while.”

            “Well, I’m sure your father would have been very proud to see how far you’ve come.”

            “I like to think so ma’am.” Kieller’s gaze had never left the figure floating in the bacta tank.

            “You don’t have to call me ma’am, you can call me Shelia,” she offered. “You make me feel so old.”

            “I’m sorry ma…Shelia,” his gaze finnaly broke away from the bacta tank, and something approaching a smile slipped onto his face. “I’m Patrick, by the way.”

            Shelia could see the dark circles under his eyes. “Well, Patrick, I’m sure Tom appreciates the loyalty, but you should really get some sleep.”

            He sighed. “Yes, I know. I just wanted to check in. I’m not really tired though. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to sleep.”

            “You’d better get to sleep, Captain, or I’ll have you flat on your back faster than you can say Star Destroyer,” a woman’s voice, clipped, precise, and demanding. Kieller shot to his feet.

            “Of course, Doctor,” Kieller replied. “Miss Medra, this is Doctor, y’Talor, the Ship’s Medical Officer. Shelia stood. The doctor was a tall woman, in a white lab coat, which looked as if it had been stained with blood in several places.

            “You’ll have to forgive my appearnce, Miss Medra, I haven’t had a chance to change since triage.” The Doctor apologized, holding out her hand. Shelia took and sized up the Doctor. She looked very competent, with her hair pulled back into a severe looking bun. “Now, Captain, scat, before I sedate you. Get some rest.”

            “Aye, Aye ma’am,” Kieller grinned and y’Talor rolled her eyes, and watched as he made his way to the turbolift and dissapeard.

            “Now, how is our paitent?” the Doctor pulled out a datapad, and peered carefully at Tom, floating in the bacta. “Hmm…” she muttered, going to the side of the tank, and taking some readings off the panel. The Doctor tsked to herself and she made some notations with her light pen.

            “He’ll be alright?”

            “Oh he’ll be fine eventually,” the Doctor replied. “I’m going to have to keep him in their a little longer. The broken ribs had masked some internal injuries. They’re healing just fine, but it will take longer.” Doctor y’Talor looked over Shelia, and took her arm, and took her pulse. Before she could reisist, the Doctor was waving her light pen in her eyes. “How long did you sleep?”

            Shelia looked at her crono. She’s slept about two hours, by her count. “About two hours.”

            “Get some more,” the Doctor’s tone softened. “I know this is tough for you. I’m fortunate that I only have a few people in the tank, most of the wounded are already in recovery, so their family can see them. Would you like a sedative?”

            “No, thank you.”

            “Okay. Someone will be around every couple of hours or so to check on him. Try and get some rest.”

            “Thank you Doctor.”

            Doctor y’Talor nodded and disappeared through the door on one side of the room.

            Shelia stood in front of the tank, and pressed her hand to the glass. She turned at the hissing of the turbolift door. Farl came in.

            “How’s he doing?” he asked. He still had a bandage on his head.

            “Has the Doctor seen that?” she asked.

            “She’s too busy to deal with this scratch. How’s the boy doing?”

            “He’ll be in a little longer. Doctor said something about internal injuries, but that he’s healing nicely.”

            “Good.”

            “Patrick was here earlier.” She said.

            “Oh, good. Did the Doctor stick a needle in him?”

            “No, but he did go to his quarters.”

            Farl nodded. “Good. He need sleep. He’s sweet on the Doctor, too. Did you notice?”

            Shelia hadn’t. “No, I didn’t.”

            “She won’t give him the time of day, which is disappointing.” He replied.

            “He’s rather fond of Tom.”

            “Patrick? Stars yes. The Admiral is like the only family the boy has. He pulled Patrick right out of the Acadamy, and has been teaching him ever since. Patrick’s his protégé, his friend.” Farl cross the room, and completed the ritual, by pressing his hand to the glass.

            “Does everyone do that?” she asked. “Eveyone who’se come to visit has done that.”

            Farl nodded. “When you’re floating in the tank, it’s a lonely thing. You can’t feel anything. Its pressurized to negative buoyancy, so you don’t feel like you’re floating. You’re just…there. You can’t see beyond the glass, except for fuzzy outlines. You’re breathing through a tube, but you can’t really feel it. Seeing a hand against the glass, well, it just lets you know you’re still alive, there’s still something out there. It gives you something to focus on. I know he’s unconscious at the moment, but its just something we do. Everyone does it.”

            Shelia nodded. “So you’ve been in there before?”

            “I was in once, a long time ago, before I met Tom.”

            “What did you do?”

            “I was the commander of corvette, that’s a small warship,” he explained. “I did something stupid, and we were ambushed. When I recovered from my wounds, I was reprimanded. That’s when I discovered I wasn’t cut out for command. I was assigned at an orderly to several different officers, and then I met Tom. He and I got along famously, and I’ve been with him ever since.”

            “I think he’s happy to have you.”

            “Not as much as I am to have him. He saved my carear. I would have been shuffled from post to post, if he hadn’t decided to take me with him when he came over to the Pride.”

            “He looks up to you.”

            “In a way. The man doesn’t need a military advisor, he’s brilliant. What he needed was a spirtual advisor, a confessor, if you will. I guess I was lucky enough to have that talent.” Shelia nodded. “That’s not all he needed either.” Farl turned and looked at her steadily.

            “What do you mean?”

            “In good time, lass, in good time. You’ll know.”

            Shelia’s eyes widened. “Look!”

 

            Davis felt terrible. He tried to cough, but found he couldn’t. Something was blocking his mouth. He tried to reach an arm up, but it felt like it wouldn’t move. He paused. He felt like he was lying down, but then again he wasn’t. This was a familiar feeling. A tingle ran up his spine. Bacta? How did I end up here? And then it all came back to him, the battle, the mutiny, the fight with van Der Witt. He struggled to get his eyes open. Light flooded in, and the light green surrounded him. Shapes were moving beyond the glass. A hand pressed itself to the glass. He thought he recognized the short, stubby hands of his aid, and endeavored to give the man a thumbs up motion. A second hand pressed itself to the glass. There was no mistaking the long thin, feminine fingers

            Shelia! He reached out his hand to touch the glass opposite her hand, pressing his plam to hers. The effort seemed to tire him out. He fought against the fatigue, but failed, slowly slipping back into the blackness.

 

            Tom’s hand slipped slowly off the glass, and hung limp at his side again. His eyes had closed again. She kept her hand pressed to the glass, but something in Shelia finally snapped. Tears began to run down her cheeks, and she began to sob. Farl put an arm around her shoulders and guided her to sit on the couch.

            “There, there, lass. He’ll be alright.”

            “I’m sorry,” she sniffed, trying to get a hold of herself. “Ever since yesterday, when I saw that freighter explode on the holonews, I’ve been worried sick, and then I get dragged here in the middle of the night…I was so worried. I thought I’d found him just to lose him.” Farl nodded, and handed Shelia a handkerchief.

            “Dry your eyes, lass. He’ll be alright.” Shelia nodded.

            “Thank you.”

            “I’m going to head for my quarters and get some sleep. You’ll be alright here?” Farl asked. Shelia nodded. “All right then.” He left quietly, and Shelia felt herself drifting off as she curled up on the couch.

 

            Shelia woke up with a start, feeling a little dizzy. She looked around, startled.

            “We just made the jump to hyperspace.” A strange voice told her. She looked up, a short dark haird man with a thin moustache was standing between her and Tom, floating in the tank, he was wearing a robe from the Medical Center.

            “Who are you?” she asked.

            “I’m Edward Szycho,” he said, offering his hand as she stood.

            “Shelia Medra.” The man smiled thinly.

            “I assumed as much.”

            “You’re Commodore Szycho, the Second in Command.” She said, making the connection.

            “Yes. I thought I’d stop in, and see how he was doing.” Szycho paused. “The Admiral and I don’t always see eye to eye, but he is a brilliant leader.”

            “How are you feeling?”

            “Better. Doctor y’Talor is getting ready to release me. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

            “Thank you.”

            Szycho touched the glass again, before padding out. Shelia yawned, and checked her crono. She’d been asleep for 8 hours. She could hardly believe that. She stretched out. She felt terrible, her hair felt stringy and skuzzy. She need a shower, badly. And she was hungry. She was about to call for an orderly when the turbolift slid open. Farl walked in, carrying a tray of food.

            “Oh good, you’re awake. I was going to wake you to make you eat.” Farl thrust the food at her. “Eat.”

            “Yes, sir,” she grinned at the avuncular old man.

            “How are you feeling?”

            “I need a shower,” she said. “I feel disgusting.”

            “We can arrange for that. We’ve got a place set up for you in the VIP quarters. I’ll take you up there and you can shower, and put on some fresh clothes and then you can come back here.” Shelia nodded, as Farl helped himself to several of her vegetable spears. His voice then dropped a notch. “I spoke with Dr. y’Talor.”

            “Oh? Is something wrong?”

            “They think they’re going to have to pull him out and set the leg. Its not healing quite right, and they’re going to have to put pins in it.”

            “Oh.” Shelia looked at Tom’s unconscious floating figure. “Its not serious though.”

            “Oh, no, not at all. They’re going to pull him out sometime today, do the surgery, and then drop him back in. After that, he’ll only be in for another 6 to 8 hours.”

            “Is it always this long?” she asked.

            “Well, lass, without bacta, he’d be months recovering. As it is, he’ll be up and about in about a week.”

            “I’ll need to get back to work soon.” She said, reality creeping in.

            “Yes, but we’ve made arrangements for you to stay until he’s out of the tank. We’re orbiting Parkpia now, and we’re beginning repair work. We’ll be here for a while. We’ll need to get the forward ridgeline re-pressurized, before we resume our patrol schedule.” Shelia nodded. “There’s a lot of press attention right now, too, so you’re safer here.”

            “Press attention?”

            “Word has leaked out of everything that’s gone on. The Admiral here is a big hero for the pirate raid, and the mutiny only enhances that. He’s going to be a busy man when he gets out.”

            “Why?”

            “Well, he’s got a lot off officers to replace, and a trial to arrange, although Commander Torkes has already started on that.”

            “When does the current Academy class graduate?” Shelia asked.

            Farl looked at his crono, “Couple of weeks, why?”

            “I met a cadet who was remarkable perceptive about the pirate raid on Parkpia. I think Tom ought to consider giving her a chance.”

            “What’s her name?” Farl asked, pulling out his datapad. At this point, they needed all the help they could get in recommending new officers.

            “Stevens, I think it was. Abigalye, I think was her first name.”

            “I’ll check her out, thanks.”

            “So, how long do you think he’ll be out?” Shelia asked. Farl shrugged.

            “Could wake up anytime, I suppose. They do try to keep them moderately sedated, so they don’t thrash around in the tank, in case they happen to be claustrophobic.” 

            Shelia finished up her plate, and stood. “Come on Farl, where’s that shower?”

 

            Shelia was just getting cleaned up, when there was a pounding at the door. She answered it, and Farl was there, pale and ragged. “Farl, what…?”

            “No time! C’mon!”

 

            Time and space were blurry. One moment he was standing by his first TIE fighter, having his holo taken for his mother. Another moment, he was on the bridge of the Indefalgable, that rattle trap of a Nebulon B-frigate that had been his first fleet command. He saw his mother, smiling that proud, scared smile of a mother trying to balance her pride and her fear. He saw Felise, kissing him goodbye, and later, dying in a hail of laser fire. He hadn’t been there, but he saw it nonetheless. He saw Baron Fel leading his rag tag fighter squadron into battle against the Rebels. Vader and Exectutor, floating menacingly just on the edge of his vision. He saw the Pride batter and bruised, but unbowed, fighting against pirates, then rebels and then in a shocking vision, TIE fighters and other star destroyers. He tired to make sense of it all, but his mind was in a chemical haze. He tried to clear his head, and the scene went black, like a holoscreen turned off. A face began to fade into form. Shelia’s face. A smaller face, with brown hair, and blue eyes! A son! What he would give to hold a son, give the boy the childhood he himself had been denied. Other faces. Farl, like a father, Patrick, like a son. He struggled toward them. It was hard. He heard voices.

            “C’mon, c’mon!”

            “Admiral stay with me!” he thought it was y’Talor’s voice.

            “Don’t do this Tom,” the gruff voice of his aide, harried by lack of breath.

            “TOM!” a sobbing voice. Shelia. She was crying. Why was she crying? He felt a pressure against his hand, but he couldn’t touch it.

            “What is going on?” he asked himself.

            “You’re dying, my boy,” he spun to look. The man standing before him was bathed in a green glow.

            “Dying?” he was astounded.

            “Blood clot. Side effect of some of the medicine they were giving you. No one knew.”

            “Who are you?”

            “You don’t recognize me?”

            Davis stared carefully at the man. He looked familiar. He had seen him somewhere before.  On Courscant, before the madness began. “Organa, Bail Organa!”

            “Indeed. I watched your career with interest, Admiral. You’ve done well for yourself.”

            “But, but…”

            “What, you think I hold you responsible for what those madmen did? Of course not. You didn’t have anything to do with that, and you know it.”

            There was a silence. “So why you?” Davis asked, feeling an element of the absurd filtering into the conversation. Why had Bail Organa come to meet me? Davis thought.

            “Well, actually, someone else asked me to come here, first, before she came.” A woman materialized.

            “Tom?”

            “Dal? How? What happened?” She smiled at him sadly, and looked at Organa. Iron tendrils gripped his heart. “You too?”

            She nodded. “My mother and I had gone there as a stopping point, on our way to contact the Rebellion.” She paused. “Its time, Tom, you can come with me now.”

            He was galvanized in that instant. “No! Dal, I can’t go. I have so much to live for now.”

            She smiled sadly. “You finally found someone to share your life with Tom? Someone besides your ship?”

            “Yes! I have to go, to make the galaxy a better place! I can’t let…let…THIS ever happen again.” He waved at Dal and Organa.

             Organa smiled. “All by yourself? How can you do that?”

            “I don’t know,” Tom admitted. “But I have to try! So no one forgets, ever. The memory of the suffering should never die, and I won’t let it.”

            “So strange,” Bail murmered. “Most people who say that aren’t wearing the uniform you’re wearing when they come here.”

            “I have to make amends! I can’t let us forever go down in infmamy. There must be good things we can accomplish to turn things around.”

            “Admiral, I’m afraid things are beyond your control in that department. My daughter is seeing to that.”

            Davis sighed “The rebellion, of course. Its too late to stop it now, to turn things around.” He looked back up. “But I can do what I can in my own sector!” he was begging now. “I must go back.”

            “If you choose to go back now, it will be a struggle. If you should return here before you make it, there will be no second chance.”

            “I understand.” He looked at Dal. “Goodbye Dal. Say hello to your mother for me.”

            “I will.”

            “Tom?” a new voice. He looked.

            “Mother?”

            “I’m proud of you son. Good do good.” She smiled at him.

            “I will Mom, I promise. Grandchildren mom, and soon!” he promised.

            “Good luck, my boy. And go with forgiveness.”

            “Thank you sir.”

            The three figures faded out. He could hear the voices again.

            “He’s still with me, but its faint!” The doctors voice.

            “C’mom Thomas, you can’t leave us now.” Farl sounded desperate.

            “I’m coming!” he shouted, moving towards the voices. It felt like he was incased in steel. The pressure was still on his hand, he could still hear Shelia sobbing. The pain increased with every step. He felt like he could just reach her hand. Almost. The pain was excutiating. He felt like he was on fire. The pain was unbearable. He gritted his teeth and remembered back to his Acadamy days. “No pain, no gain, you miserable slugs! Get up and do it again!” The voice of his old drill seargent rang in his ears. “You’re a bunch of momma’s boys! No heart in any of you. We should just ship you all back to the shitholes you came from!” Imperial Officers don’t quit, he told himself. We succeed or die trying, he twisted his mouth into a wry grin. Only this time it means just that. He grimaced against the pain and pushed onward again.  Just a little further, he forced himself. There!

 

            Shelia stoped sobbing so fast she hiccupped. “He squeezed my hand!” she shrieked.

            The doctor looked over. The Admiral had indeed tightened his grip. Farl took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his rough hands smoothing the Admiral’s wet hair. His head shifted, and his eyelids fluttered.

            “Admiral, don’t move.” Doctor y’Talor ordered, pointing. An orderly immediately applied a neck brace.

            A groan escaped the man’s lips.

            “Vitals coming up,” the nurse declared. “BP is stabilizing, pulse is coming normal.”

            “Sh…sh…” Tom’s eyes were still closed, but he was trying to form words.

            “Tom, I’m here.” Shelia was aware of tears streaming down her cheeks. She squeezed his hand tightly. He squeezed back, weakly.

            “I…I…l-l-lo..v…y…o. Wan…t…t…ed…yo…t-t-t…o…kn…o” he stuttered.

            “Oh, Tom.” She sobbed, and put her head on his chest. “I love you too.” He smiled slowly.

            “Admiral, we’re going to give you something to let you sleep, alright?” Doctor y’Talor said.

            “N…o…w-w-w…ait…F-F-F-a…rl.”

            “I’m here, sir.”

            “Or…Or…Organa f-f-f…or…gave…us.” Tom seemed very pleased about this. He sighed. Farl waved the Doctor and the Admiral’s expression turned serene as he drifted out.

            “We need to take him to recovery now.” Doctor y’Talor said gently. “You can see him over there in a minute.”

            Shelia nodded, and stood, waiting until the last possible moment to let go of Tom’s hand. She leaned heavily onto Farl’s shoulder. And they began to follow towards the recovery room.

            “What did he mean, Farl?”

            “I’m not sure, lass, but I think he was talking about Bail Organa, the hereditary king of Alderaan.”

            “What does it mean?”

            “I don’t know.” Farl sighed. “It’s a good thing they had him out of the tank to put that pin in his leg. If that had happened in the tank, we’d be talking about an entirely different story right now.”

            “What exactly happened?”

            “A blood clot caught in his heart, but they were able to catch it in time, and hit it with a dissolving agent. Then they had to revive him. These kinds of things are terribly touch and go.”

            They stopped outside the recovery room. Doctor y’Talor stepped out. “You can go in now. We’re not going to put him back in the tank until we’re sure we’ve stabilized him completely, and treated this blood problem. It will be some time.” Farl nodded.

            “Go on in lass, I’m going to go speak with Patrick.” Shelia nodded.

            She went in. Tom was hooked up to a dozen different monitors. There was a chair by the bedside, and she carefully positioned it, where she could grasp his hand. She brushed his hair back, and leaned forward, and kissed him on the forehead. He was a fighter. She took his hand, and it gripped hers unconsciously as she held it. She sat there, holding his hand, and watching his face, listening to the hum of the machinery.

 

            He dreamt while he slept. Far away places, different worlds. One memory he wanted to hold onto was the image of himself standing before Moff Orillian, receiving his Grand Admiral’s commission. How the old Moff had become Emperor, he had no idea, but it felt good. Shelia was in the audience, looking on with pride. Other visions drifted into his vision. He had a haunting vision of standing over a blue skinned man with glowing red eyes, who had a knife sticking in his chest and a slowly expanding circle of red blood. He had no idea what it meant. Darkness began to lighten. Where was he? He couldn’t remember. The celing looked plain and white, almost sterile…and he remembered, he was in the sickbay. Why? It all began to come back to him. The fight, the mutiny, even the incident after, which he wasn’t quite sure he believed or understood. He heard a voice, soft, beautiful tones, soothing him. It was an angel, he thought, even though he doubted their existence, old spacer’s tales or not. His eyes began to focus, it was Shelia. She was reading to him. She was reading him poetry.

            No, she was reading a news story. She was reading him a news story about himself. She was trying to wake him up by embarrassing him.

            He groaned, and she looked up. His eyes began to focus. She looked worried. He tried to speak to her, but his mouth felt like he had eaten an old sock. His mouth moved by no sound came out.

            “Water?” Shelia asked. Tom nodded as vigorously as his head would allow. She held a cup with a straw to his mouth and he sucked greedily. Very little seemed to be making it down his throat, it was mostly being sucked up by his dry mouth. She pulled it away.

            “Not to much to start. Better?”

            “Yes,” he said, finally able to produce sound.

            “Its no wonder your mouth was so dry. You should really learn to sleep with your mouth shut. You’ve been snoring almost non-stop.”

            “Sorry.” Talking seemed to tire him. “How long?”

            “About a day. I don’t know if you snored while I was asleep, but it’s a good bet you were.”

            “What day is it?”

            Shelia looked at her crono. “Well, it should be mid morning on Thursday on Parkpia, but I’m not sure what time it is here.”

            “Where’s here?” Tom asked.

            “Your own sickbay, Admiral,” Dr. y’Talor said, as she strode in. “For the record, its 1000 hours, Thursday morning, both here and on Parkpia. We synched up the cronos when we arrived in the sector.” She looked at Tom. “You’re looking better this morning, Admiral.”

            “Well, I don’t feel much better.”

            “Well, you looked a lot worse the last time I saw you,” y’Talor pointed out.

            “That much is true,” Shelia added.

            The doctor took the Admiral’s vitals. “Doctor, if you don’t mind, what exactly happened?”

            She looked at him. “Before or after you were in the tank?”

            “Well, I remember everything, including some things that I’m not sure I believe. What happened in the tank?”

            “When you were brought in,” the Doctor began, “You were bleeding internally. You were given a shot of cytocyline, that’s a clotting agent, to try and stop the internal bleeding. Unfortunetly, the cytocyline can cause the formation of dangerous blood clots. Paitents taking cytocyline are usually asked to keep somewhat active after dosage, to prevent stagnant blood from forming clots, but you got dropped right into the tank. When we pulled you out to do surgery, we shook one loose from your leg, and it went to your heart, where it caused a cardiac arrest. We were able to dissolve the clot, and then revive you.”

            “I see.”

            “We haven’t put you back in yet, because we’ve been checking for other clots, and allowing the cytocyline to work its way out of your system. We’re waiting for the results on the latest bloodwork before we make a decision.”

            “How much longer in the tank, do you think?”

            “Probably another 6-10 hours, depending on how quickly you heal up. Your bones aren’t healed yet, and we’ve still got some scarring on your hip to deal with. The internal injuries are healed, and we’re no longer concerned about your concussion.”

            “So its just the bones then?” the Admiral asked.

            “Correct. We’ve reset the bone, and put in the pins, now you just have to heal. You’ll be up and about in 48 hours.”

            “Good.” The Admiral paused. “How mobile am I now?”

            “Not very,” the Doctor replied. “We’re keeping you off your feet because you’re hip bone isn’t quite right yet.”

            “I see.” The Admiral looked back and forth between the two women. “I…uh…” he began.

            Dr. y’Talor’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I’ll take Miss Medra to get a cup of caf, and send the Two-Onebee in, Admrial.”

            The Admiral sagged in relief. “Thank you Doctor.”

            Puzzled, Shelia got up and followed the doctor as she beckoned to her. The door slid shut behind them, and y’Talor waved at a medical droid. “Please see to the Admiral, Two-Onebee.”

            “Affirmative.” The droid replied.

            “What was that all about?” Shelia, finally asked, unable to contain her curiousity any longer.

            “The Admiral needed a bed pan, and was too embarrassed to ask,” y’Talor answered, trying to keep a straight face.

            “Oh.” Shelia replied, unable to contain her own grin. She tired, but the giggle escaped her lips anyway, and soon she and the doctor were laughing and giggling their way to the canteen, marveling at the foibles of men.

 

            The droid scuttled out, to be replaced by a rap on the doorframe. “Come!” Davis replied. Farl walked in. “Farl, good to see you.” Farl waited until the door slid closed again, and they were alone.

            “Thomas, you gave us quite a scare. Its good to see you well, sir.”

            “Thank you.” Davis replied. Farl came over and took the Admirals hand for a moment and they locked eyes. There was a long second, before they both cleared their throats, and Farl released the Admiral’s hand and took the seat that Shelia had vacated. “Where’s Shelia?”  Farl asked.

            “I had to use the…well, you know, and Doctor y’Talor took her for a cup of caf.” Farl nodded sagely.

            “Their not letting you up and about yet?”

            “No not yet,” Davis replied. “The Doctor says I’m due for another dip in the tank as well, to finish healing the bones.”

            “And then you’ll be good to go?”

            “Indeed.”

            “And ready to meet your adoring public?”

            “What’s that?”

            Farl pulled the newspaper flimsy from where Shelia had been reading it. “‘Hero Admiral Single Handedly Foils Mutiny’” he read. “‘Boy Wonder Beats Pirates, Mutineers’ shall I go on?” Davis groaned. “Oh, here’s the editorial,” Farl continued. “Parkpia is lucky to have Admiral Tom Davis commanding its defense forces. The Imperial Admiral’s courage, as well as his brilliance, was proved without a doubt this past week, as he bravely led his crew in a desperate fight against the pirates that had been plaguing this sector. And if that weren’t enough to prove his mettle, he also stayed level headed enough to foil an attempted mutiny by radical Palpatine loyalists during the battle, even to the point of defeating the ringleader in hand to hand combat. Admiral Davis is a model officer and a hero…

            “Stop already!” Davis groaned. “Enough!”

            “That’s just one paper. They’re all very similar.” The Admiral moaned. “And the security people tell me that reporters are camped out on Shelia’s doorstep.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, but Lieutenant Bryne thinks he has things under control.”

            “Good. Anything else I need to know?”

            “Well, they need to get a statement from you, but other than that, the Courts Martial are almost ready to go. We’ve brought in the head of the Hallicorn Millitia to serve as judge, with a jury made up of officers from various planetary defense forces. There’s not a single regular Navy officer on the jury, we decided that they were all tainted.”

            Davis nodded. “How’s the ship?” Farl hesitated, which made Tom wince. “That freighter. How bad was it?”

            “The explosions vented 4 decks to vaccum. The blast doors kept the casualty numbers down, but they were still heavy. We’ve got the designers working on a fix. They’re going to have to get creative, they think.”

            Davis exhaled heavily. “Casualties?”

            “Don’t worry about it now. We’re taking care of all that.”

            “I’ll worry if I want to.”

            “You’ll get better. We need you. The ship is being run by committee. Edmunton acknowledges that Patrick is your man, and defers to him while Szycho tries to steer things in his own direction, the end result is that there has to be a three man consensus before anything gets done.”

            Davis sighed. “I’ll be back soon. Is there anything that requires my immediate attention?”

            “No. Just rest and get better. The governor has postponed his gala, and you have to be in shape to take your date.”

            Davis eyes unfocused for a moment. “Yes.”

            Farl looked at him with an eyebrow raising, “Did you need something?”

            “I do. But I don’t know how to go about it.” Davis explained what he wanted.

            “I’ll give it some thought.” Farl promised. “Oh, one other thing. You’re lawyer called.”

            “What did he say?”

            “He said that he hopes you get better, and that he’s got some paperwork you need to sign.”

            “Have it couriered up, as quickly as possible.”

            “I’ll arrange it.”

            “Good.”

            The door slid open and Shelia reappeared.

            “Hey there good looking,” Tom said. Shelia stopped and looked around.

            “Oh, you mean me?” she said. “You must be on stronger medication than I thought.”

            “If there’s nothing else sir?” Farl said, grinning.

            “No, thank you Farl. Drop in anytime.”

            “Of course, sir.”

            “See you later Farl.” Shelia said, sliding into the room as Farl exited. “You’re feeling better.” She observed sitting down in the chair.

            “C’mere and find out just how better I’m feeling,” Tom taunted, using his good hand to pat the side of the bed, using the bed control to sit himself upright.

            Shelia cocked an eyebrow at him skeptically, but walked around the bed to ease herself down on the edge of the bed. Gingerly, Tom edged his way to the side, to allow Shelia to scooch onto the bed, sitting up next to him.

            “This is nice.” Tom commented, putting his good arm around Shelia.

            “Mmmhmmm,” Shelia commented, turning to look at him. “And this is supposed to prove that you’re feeling better?”

            “Well, no, but if you were still over there, I couldn’t do this,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

            “Mmmmmm,” Shelia murmered, against his lips, parting her lips to allow his tounge to explore her mouth. Their tounges danced against one another playfully, and Shelia tangled her fingers in his unruly hair. His good hand was stroking her long brown hair gently.

            The door hissed open and Shelia started to move away, but Tom held her, and then Tom waved with his hand for the person to go away. There was an embarrassed noise. “Uhhhhh, Admiral,”

            “Go away.”

            “Admrial, the doctor says she’s going to put you under again soon and we need to get your statement.”

            “What part of go away are you having trouble with?”

            “Admrial we really need…”

            “Well isn’t this cozy.” The doctors voice. Tom gave up, and looked up. Shelia sat back on the bed, but didn’t leave it, Tom noted with satisfaction. The doctor was walking in with her chart, and a very red faced lieutenant with ISB markings on his uniform was standing in the doorway.

            “Doctor,” Davis acknowleged coolly. “Lieutenant.”

            “Glad to see you’re feeling better Admiral,” she said, as she began to take his vitals. “Hmm…pulse rate is high.” She said, deadpan. Davis scowled at her, and while Davis hadn’t thought it was possible, the lieutenant turned an even deeper shade of red. Shelia giggled. The doctor finished with her check of his vitals. “I’m going to get ready and put you back in the tank, Admiral. The sooner in, the sooner out, and Lieutenant Kinkaid says that the bridge is chaos without you, so I’d rather have you on your feet.”

            “Admiral, I do need a statement.”   

            “Doctor, can you wait until I give this poor boy his statement?”

            “Yes.”

            “Very well, come in son, and take out your pad. Lets get this over with.”

            The Lieutenant was clearly not comfortable with his Admiral sitting in bed with a woman, but took it in stride. Shelia heard for the first time what exactly happened on the bridge, from Tom, and she supposed it was easier for him to tell the story as few times as possible. It was over quickly and the boy packed up his things and left. For a moment or two they were alone again. Shelia put her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about Wilford.” Tom shook his head slowly.

            “I’m used to having men die. But I’ve never had a man die for me. To save me.”

            “He did his duty.” She pointed out.

            He sighed. “I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “We’ll talk about it some more when I get out of the tank.”

            “Okay.”

            “Who’s covering you’re classes?” Tom asked after a long pause.

            Shelia sighed. “A substitute. I need to get back.”

            “Stay till I get out again?”

            “Of course. But I’ll probably go back soon.”

            “I know, I’ll be alright after that anyway, up and about, walking, catching up on my paperwork, etcetera.”

            “Okay.”

            The doctor reappeared. “Time’s up Admiral. Lets get you back on the bridge.” Davis nodded. “We’re going to need to knock you out.”

            “Why?”

            “Well, we can do this the easy way, with the needle, or we can just let you pass out from pain when we try and move your arm so it will fit in the tank.”

            “Always so realistic,” Davis said laconically, rolling his eyes.

            “This won’t hurt much,” the doctor said, holding up the needle and tapping the bubbles out.”

            “I’m right here,” Shelia said, squeezing his hand.

            The doctor wasted no time in finding a decent sized vien and poking him with it. “You’ll be out shortly.” Davis nodded, and Shelia kissed his forehead.

            “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

            “Good,” Tom smiled lazily, and his eyes rolled back and he was out.

            “That didn’t take long.”

            “It usually doesn’t. The Admiral has a low tolerance for medication. He’s only slightly better at holding his liquer, but you’ll never see him drink more than one glass at a time.” The doctor waved to two orderlies, who as carefully as possible lifted the Admiral onto a gurney for movment to the bacta tank. “We’ve got to move him into pre-dunk, Lieutenant Kinkaid is waiting outside for you.”

            “Thank you.”

            Shelia walked out of the room, and Farl took her by the arm. “This way. You need food. There’s nothing to see for now.”

            “Okay.”

            They walked down a hallway, and up a flight of stairs, and Shelia could hear a cacophony of voices. Another right and they were in a well lit, brightly colored restaurant of some kind. “What is this place?” She asked.

            “This is the Officers Club. Its an officers only off duty lounge.” In one corner, was a bar, with patrons watching holoscreens, with sports on them. Towards the front of the room, some were dancing on a dance floor in front of a stage. Farl guided her over to a table with a “reserved” hologram floating over the table in several languges. He waved his hand over the hologram and allowed the scanner to recognize his fingerprints. The reserved hologram disappeared and was replaced by a menu. “The Admiral keeps a table reserved here all the time.”

            Shelia nodded, and began scanning down the menu half heartedly while watching the crowded room’s patrons. “Its seems very busy here.”

            “Well, with as many officers as we have, a good chunk of them are off duty at any one time. The senior officers are all on duty right now, so these are either third watch officers now off duty, or the second watch officers just waking up and getting a bite to eat.”   

            “How is the crew taking all that’s gone on in the past week?”

            “Well, they’re taking it pretty well. They’re mad at the mutineers, and pleased with how they came out of the fight. Many of them are concerned about the Admiral. They’ve attached an almost mystical feeling to him, like he’s invincible or something. He finds it all very disconcerting and embarrassing. Some of that reputation is well desevered, since we have surived so long out here, against what appeared to be long odds, but overconfidence can hurt you in the long run.” Farl waved a serving ‘droid over.

            “What’s good here?” Shelia asked.

            “Everything,” he replied. She smiled.

            “Order for me, please,” she asked. “I can’t concentrate on food.”

            “Okay.” He ordered, but Shelia was too busy watching the activity in the club to notice what he had ordered. Their arrival had not gone unnoticed, and there was some subtle glances in their direction, and a low murmer aimed in their direction. Finnally, from the bar, two men put down their drinks, and turned toward them. They stepped up to the booth.

            “Ma’am?” the taller one spoke, and she probably would have recognized him, even if he wasn’t a twi’lek. They spared Farl less than a glance, as if he didn’t really exist. Which she supposed, to them, he didn’t. He ranked below them, but his position made him very important. It would be rude to demand that he acknowledge them, but also improper to acknowledge him.

            “I know you. You were with Tom the day I met him.”

            “Yes ma’am. I’m Commander Ja’neara, I command one of the ship’s fighter squadrons.”

            “What can I do for you Commander?”

            “We just wanted to know if you’d let the Admiral know that we’re all pulling for him, and that we want him to get well as quickly as possible. And that we’re thinking of you too. We can’t imagine how hard this has been for you.”

            Shelia used her fingernail to dig at a chip in the plasteel table. “It has been quite overwhelming, thank you. I’ll pass along your words to the Admiral.”

            “Thank you ma’am. Please, don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. The crew is at your disposal.”

            There was a murmer of agreement from the small crowd that had gathered around them. Shelia felt a little self conscious, but nodded at him.

            “Thank you,” she said, locking eyes with the Commander, before letting her gaze sweep around the room. “All of you. You’ve all been very kind, and I do appreciate it.” She gave them a smile, and just then was saved from having to say more by the arrival of the food. The two pilots nodded at her again, and she turned back to her food, letting everyone else return to what they were doing before, as conversations began to return to the room.

            “Well done,” Farl said quietly. “You’ve made a good impression, that’s important.”

            “I really didn’t know what to say.”

            “You went with your instincts, that’s good.” Farl paused. “You’ll need to get at least a little bit more comfortable in large group situations. You can well imagine why. You can probably avoid getting involved in politics, stars know that the Admiral does his level best to stay out.”

            “This is getting serious.”

            Farl looked at her. “Having second thoughts?”

            “No, no,” she said quickly. “Nothing like that. Its just all so overwhelming. I’m a simple girl. I teach. I don’t mix in these circles. I’m not used to being important.”

            Farl nodded. “You’ll get used to it.”

            “I hope so.”

            There was a long silence.

            “He loves you, you know. I’m not quite sure how it happened, but he loves you.”

            “I know.” Shelia looked down at her food.

            “Do you love him?”

            The silence stretched on. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I do know I feel differently about him, different from any other man I’ve ever known. Is it love? I don’t know. I thought I was in love once, but…well, anyway, now I’m not so sure what love is.”

            Farl nodded. “I understand better than you think. I thought I was in love once too. Well, no, that’s not true, I was in love. The fact was, she wasn’t in love with me as much as I thought she was. She may have not ever loved me. But that didn’t change what I felt. The fact that she wasn’t in love with me didn’t change the fact that I was in love. You shouldn’t blame yourself because someone else did something.”

            “I know what you mean. I mean, I guess I was in love once before. It felt like love. But then I wasn’t sure. When it ended, I was so hurt, and I doubted that I could feel love. I thought maybe it wasn’t love. If he didn’t feel it, maybe I wasn’t really in love with him either.”

            “But that’s not the way it works, lass,” Farl said. “He may not have loved you, but it sounds like you did.”

            “I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure. What I felt with him is, well, so differant compared to how I feel about Tom. Can both those feelings be love? Is this love and before wasn’t? Was that love? And if it was, what’s this?”

            “Can’t really answer that for you lass, you’ll have to figure that out on your own,” he sighed. “But I think you already have.”

            “What?”

            “You told him already.”

            “I did?” Shelia thought hard. “I did.” She remembered. “I wasn’t thinking.”

            “When you don’t think about it, do you love him?”

            “I…”

            “No, don’t think about it. Don’t complicate it with the past. Do you see yourself with him, do you feel right with him?”

            “Yes.”

            “Do you love him?”

            “Yes.” Shelia seemed surprised by the admission. “Yes, yes, I do.”

            “Good.” Farl smiled. “Because if you ever hurt him, you understand it will go badly for you. Thomas is like a son to me.”

            She smiled back. “I understand.”

            “Now, you’ve barely touched your food! Eat up girl, eat up!”

            Shelia laughed.

 

            Tom hated the feeling of floating in bacta. He had no sense of time. Every so often he could see a hand, many times it was Shelia’s fine, slim fingers. He drifted in and out. Finnally, he felt a tug, and looked up to see a hand waving him upward. He kicked his legs and broke the surface. He twisted his shoulder experimentally, as he pulled the breathmask off his face. “Feels good,” he told the orderly.

            “Good to hear Admiral,” the orderly replied, hosing him down, and then handing him a towel. “You’ve got visitors you’ll want to see, before you get your uniform on.”

            “Okay,” padding down from the upper platform, into the vistors lounge. Shelia was wating to evelop him in a warm hug, or at least as much of a hug as they could manage with him using one hand to preserve his modesty.

            “Hey,” he said, kissing her warmly.

            “Nice outfit,” she whispered in his ear.

            “You like this, wait till you see what I’ve got on underneath it.” She pulled away and rolled her eyes at him.

            “Admiral,” Keiller acknolweged, and Davis turned his attention to the row of officers. Farl was there with Patrick, as well as Szycho, and Edmunton.          

            “Gentlemen,” The Admiral acknowlged, and Shelia marveled at how he seemed to take command of the room, even dressed only in a towel.

            “Good to see you well again, sir.” Szycho said.

            “When will you be able to get back to the bridge, sir?” Edmunton asked, clearly the most uncomfortable as an army officer thrust into a navy situation.

            “I’m sure the Doctor will tell me to get some extra rest, but as soon as I get my uniform on, I’m going up to the bridge to put in an appearance, and at least let people know I’m still alive. I’ll try not to put in a busy day today, but I’ll be back to work soon. What’s our status?”

            “Well, we’re working around the clock, but it will be several days before we can think about breaking orbit. We still haven’t sealed the front ridgeline. We’ve got the plans, but we’re having trouble getting the staging together to make the repairs. We’ve got a couple of ships coming in with materials from Hallicorn.”

            “Good. I’d like to survey some of the damage when I get the chance.”

            “It can be arranged.”

            “For now, I think I’m going to go find my uniform and put some clothes on.”

            “Very good Admiral.” The officers filed out, except for Farl.

            “What are you doing?” Tom asked her.

            “I should get back to the planet, and start teaching again.”

            “Can you wait an hour? I’ll take you down myself.”

            “Okay.”

            “Farl? Lead the way to clothing. C’mon Shelia, you can wait in the living area while I get dressed.”

 

            Shelia was sitting on the couch a few moments later, while Tom shouted out at her. “How much sleep have you gotten in the last several days?”

            “Not enough,” she admitted.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “What are you sorry for?”

            “You’ve been loosing sleep on my account.”

            “You didn’t choose to get shot.”

            “True. I rarely choose to get shot at.”

            He emerged from his room in his uniform. He looked so good. She rose to meet him. “You look great,” she said, as she took his face in her hands, and planting a kiss on his nose.

            “Thanks honey,” his smile melted her heart.

            “Tom,” she began.

            “What is it?”

            “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me. I’ve had some trouble with this concept before in my life, but I just need to tell you, when you can hear me. You told me you loved me. I need to tell you that I love you too.”

            Tom smiled, and bit his lip. “That is quite possibly, the sweetest, nicest thing anyone has ever told me.”

            Shelia laughed. “Well, I’m glad.”

            “I’m going to go have a look at some of this damage, do you want to come with me to the bridge?”

            “Would it be okay?”

            “Sure. We bring celebrities and such up the bridge all the time. You know enough to stay out of the way.”

            “Okay, lets go.”

 

            A few moments later, Shelia was standing on the bridge of the Pride of Carida. It was unlike anything she had imagined. The grandeur of it all was overwhelming. It was easy to see how someone could be impressed by the spit and polish of it all. The view from the bridge was incredible, and under normal circumstances, it would be beautiful. But right now they were standing at the front of the bridge, looking down at a black hole in the ship. Tom was listening to Keiller.

            “200 casualties, mainly MIAs. We didn’t recover much in the way of bodies. We have about 150 more wounded, but they’re mainly from the mutiny. We lost several turbolaser batteries and everyone from the forward spotting station.” Tom was shaking his head, and Shelia held her hands over her mouth in horror. A few workers floated around the blackened area in zero-gee suits, while others were working on repainting the areas that were scarred but did not require heavy repair.

            “How long?”

            “Two to three weeks. How long to replace the equipment? Who knows? I’m not sure GrisiTek is ready to build turbolasers yet. They can handle the light anti-fighter cannons, but the heavies? No idea.”

            Tom nodded again. “We’ve got people on it?”

            “Yes sir.”

            “Good, keep me updated.”

            “Aye, sir.”

            “I’m going dirtside for a bit to take Shelia home, and then I’m going to head to the office for a light day, you know how to reach me if anything comes up.”

            “Aye, aye sir.”

            Shelia followed Tom to the turbolift as he turned on his heel, and strode down the command walkway. His boots echoed eerily in the bride as heads slowly turned, following him down the walkway. He held his hands clasped together behind his back as if lost deep in thought. He pivoted as he entered the turbolift, and held the door back as she struggled to keep up with his long strides without looking like she was running. The doors slid shut. “You need to shorten your stride when you walk with me.” She said.

            “I’m sorry honey, I wasn’t paying attention. I zoned out there for a minute.”

            “What were you thinking about?”

            “Lots of things. The casualties were heavy. The damage is almost worse. And somethings bothering me about this whole event. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something is defiantly not quite right about this whole event.”

            “Which one?”

            “Both of them. I can’t help but think that these two events were related. But I can’t think why. Something is bothering me, though.”

            “Well, let me know it there’s anything I can do to help.”

            “I should talk to Torkes about it. But I will.”

            The doors slid open into the hanger, and they exited. She was expecting him to take her to a shuttle and ride with her down to the planet. She was surprised, however, when they veered off from the path to the shuttle landing platforms to a different area of the hanger. A shuttle sat by itself, with tools arrayed around it, and an uncharacteristic cluttered feel.

            “This one’s mine,” Tom said with pride, “The Rogue’s Escape.”

            Shelia could see him puffing up like a barnyard fowl, it was time to keep the ego under control.

            “Does it fly?” she asked.

            The comment had its effect. “Well,” he sighed. “The hyperdrive is on the blink, but otherwise, she’s good to go. Still haven’t figured that out. I’ve modified it so that I can get .5 out of it, but something’s blown out. I cut down the cabin space to fit a larger power generator, and boosted the shields and the lasers. The mauvering system is all new, giving it the handeling of something like an assault gunboat, rather than a target drone. And something is cross wired in the sensor package, because it has a tendancy to short out.”

            “Didn’t understand any of that, but I think I get the idea. It flies, just not 100% at the moment.”

            Tom quirked his mouth into a cockeyed grin. “Right,” he said, keying the ramp down. “C’mon up.”

            She followed him up the ramp into the shuttle. It was smaller inside than she expected, and what used to be passenger space was filled mechanical parts some of which seemed to be attached to the ship. There was a table, a chair, and a small bunk, crammed into what was left of the passenger space, as well as a refrigeration unit and a food processor. Wires ran openly on the floor. The ramp came up behind her, and Tom motioned her up into the cockpit. From the cockpit, she could look out over the hanger deck. “Have a seat,” Tom told her, waving her to the co-pilot’s seat, one of the four seats in the cockpit area. The cockpit actually seemed roomier than the passanger compartment, except for the open control panels and snaking wires. Tom swung several panels shut, and keyed a code into the control panel. Lights began to come up, mostly uniform green, but there were several glaring read lights. “Hmmm…” Tom mused, opening up a panel, and pulling out several wires, and then reconnecting them. Several lights changed in color, some going red and some going green. “Hmph,” He pulled another panel, and found a disconnected wire. “Well, it figures.” He pluged it in, and green lights came on solid now, in all but a few places.

            “Well, the hyperdrive is still down, naturally, but the sensors are working again temporarily, and we have repulsolifts, so we can take off. I’m going to run diagnostics on the wings. Sometimes, they balk.” Tom hit a few more switches, and several green lights blinked on and off. “We’re good to go! Hand me that headset will you?”

            Shelia reached across the control panel to hand Tom a microphone, and he keyed on the com board.

            “Carida control, this is Rogue’s Escape. Requestiong permission to move into the take off line.”

            “Rogue’s Escape, this is Carida control. You’re clear to taxi on repulsors.”

            Tom keyed some switches, and with a slight bump, the ship began to rise off the deck. He took the control yoke and carefully mauvered into the travel lane. They floated up behind another ship that looked similar to the shuttle, but had more wings. “What’s that?”

            “That’s an assault gunboat. Nice little heavy fighter. Probably doing a courier run.”

            “Rogue’s Escape, your vector is clear after Omega 1 launches. What’s your destination?”

            “Just dirtside, control. Still no hyperdrive functioning.”

            “Sorry to hear that Admiral.” The gunboat dropped through the hole in the hanger floor, angling downward as it did so. “You’re clear, Rogue’s Escape, good flying.”

            “Thanks control.”

            Tom pushed the yoke forward, and they hovered out over the hole, and suddenly they were droping through. Tom was hitting buttons, and she heard a whine from the servomotors as the shuttle’s wings swung down. There was a dull thunk and then Tom kicked in the main thrusters, pushing her back in her seat slightly.

            The planet was gorgous, hanging in space like a blue orb. The view from the cockpit outshone anything she had seen thus far from space. “Its beautiful.” She breathed.

            “Views like these were one of the reasons that made me want to fly.” He said.

            “What was antoher reasons?”

            “Care for a demonstration?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Strap in.” Tom ordered, suiting action to words, by hitching his own harness. Shelia followed suit, and then Tom hit the throttle, and began to put the shuttle through its paces.

            The planet inverted, at least once. Shelia was thrown back in her seat as she cried out in surprise. The starfield spun around at random, as Tom laughed in pure joy of flying. “Tom!” she cried out.

            “Isn’t this great?” Tom grinned like a little kid, as he buzed by the Pride of Carida.

            “Tom! Stop!” Shelia closed her eyes, but it didn’t help. Abruptly, the feeling of motion stopped, but she still felt naesous and dizzy.

            “What?” Tom asked, turning to look at her. “You don’t look so good.”

            “Tom, I have motion sickness. I don’t do thrill rides, and stuff like that.”

            Tom’s jaw dropped a few centimeters, his eyes grew wide and his face paled. “I’m sorry,” he studdered. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think, I mean, I…”

            “Assumed everyone in the galaxy thought that boring holes through vaccum was their idea of a good time.”

            “Well, yeah, it never occurred to me to ask if you had problems with motion.”

            “Its not serious, normal things, like riding in a shuttle with no windows, or riding on a bus, don’t bother me. Its serious things, like this little ride you just gave me, that makes me sick.”

            The shuttle slowed, and Tom looked sheepish and apologetic. “I’m really sorry honey. Is there anything you need? There’s a refresher out in the cabin, I don’t know how well the medicine cabinet is stocked.”

            “No,” Shelia took a deep breath. “I’ll be alright in a minute.” She closed her eyes, and tried to quell her active stomach. Tom gently brought the shuttle into a shallow dive toward the planet.

            “Shuttle Rogue’s Escape, this is Parkpia Control, please state your cargo and destination.”

            “Control, this is Rogue’s Escape. Cargo is two passengers, bound for the Parkpia City Military Complex.”

            “Acknowleged, Rogue’s Escape. Please come around to vector 240 by 4, and follow the beacons in. You’re cleared for priority pad one.”

            “Roger that, Control.” Tom keyed off the comm. “I’m really sorry.”

            “Its okay Tom.” Shelia was beginning to feel better. “I’m doing okay now.”

            “Okay. I’m still really sorry.” Tom keyed a few switches, and the beacons for the military base showed up on the sensor screen. “What are your plans for today?”

            Shelia looked at her crono. “Well, its too late to go into school, so I’ll probably just go home and crash, and try and get organized to go in tomorrow.” Tom nodded. “Why do you ask?”

            “Just curious,” he replied. “I’ll probably be busy today and tommorow anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” He paused. “Although I might get free for dinner tommorow night?”

            “Well,” Shelia hesitated. This was probably as good a time as any to bring it up. “I think my parents would like to meet you, so we could have dinner with them tommorow?”

            Tom froze halfway to the repulsolift drive controls, and then quickly remembered to engage them before they crashed. This was a scary proposition. But if he was really serious about what he had in mind for her, and he was, this was an event better accomplished sooner rather than later. “Suuure…” he drawled, his mind spinning in many directions. “What time?”

            “I’d have to check with my parents,” she said hestiatnly. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

            “No time like the present, honey, and besides, what the big deal?” he said, sounding a lot more cheerful than he felt.

            “Well, I don’t usually take men home to meet my parents,” she said, telling Tom that to her, this was a very big deal.

            “Well, I’ll do the best I can to make a good impression. What’s the dress code?” he asked.

            “Simple, casual, but if you have to, you can show up in your uniform.”

            He shrugged, “I will depend on how busy the day goes, and what time your parents want to have dinner.”

            “I’ll call them when we get down.”  The shuttle broke through the cloud cover and Parkpia City spread out before them. She gasped. “Oh my…”

            Tom grinned. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

            “I never thought it was so big!”

            “It spreads out over nearly 100 square kilometers. You’ve never seen it from over head before?”

            “Not like this,” Shelia said, drinking it all in, as the shuttle began to descend toward the military base, and the wings began to fold up as Tom engaged the landing cycle. In only a few moments they were dropping below the horizons and her view became limited. Soon, all she could see was a man with glowing batons guiding Tom to a docking slot. A hoverlimo waited outside the edges of the docking area, presumably to take her home.

            Shelia was reluctant to leave the shuttle as they unstrapped to exit. The view had been incredible, even if the ride had been a little bumpy.

            There was a comfortable silence as Tom put his hand at the small of Shelia’s back to guide her to the hoverlimo. It felt comfortable, safe and secure. She liked it, and felt herself grinning. To her surprise, Tom held the door for her, and then got into the limo with her.

            “I thought you had to get back to the Pride?”

            “I can take you back to your apartment, and make sure you get into your apartment alright.”

            “Thank you,” Shelia replied, pleased and flattered. She smiled, and sighed, as she leaned into his shoulder. She was very tired. She closed her eyes. It only seemed to be a moment before they were there. Tom was nudging her.

            “C’mon honey, time to put the smile on for the media.” She blinked her eyes against the blaze of bright holocam lights pointing at the limo. She hurried brushed the sleep out of her eyes, and began to paw in her purse for a mirror, when she saw Tom making faces at the cameras through the window.

            “Tom! What are you doing?” she was stunned.

            “Oh, don’t worry. The windows are tinted. They can’t see in. I do this all the time.”

            “My hair is a mess.” Tom looked.

            “You look beautiful.” He said.

            “You are incorrigable. There are 100 holocams out there. I can’t…” Tom pulled down a panel in the limo’s side, to reveal a large mirror. “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.” Shelia adjusted her hair.

            “Ready?”

            “I think I look good enough for the evening news, yes.” Shelia said, closing the panel.

            “Good.” Tom composed himself, and opened the door. The dull roar of the reporters voices exploded as the Admiral stepped out.

            “Admiral!”

            “Over here Admiral!”

            “Admiral! Tell us about the battle!”

            “The mutiny Admiral, what happened?”

            “Admiral, how severe were your injuries!”

            “Admiral, just a quote!”

            Tom expertly ignored them, putting an arm protectively around Shelia’s waist, and smiling. Shelia held her head up high, and smiled as well. It wasn’t hard, to smile at being this close to Tom. The security men kept the reporters at bay, and in a moment they were through, into the building. They proceeded in silence to her door. He paused. “See you tommorow then?” he said.

            “Yes, of course Tom. I’ll call you with the time.”

            “Good.”

            Their lips met softly in a kiss, a tender, loving kiss, that in other circumstances, might have promised more.

            “Good night Tom,” Shelia said, softly.

            “Good night Shelia, I love you.” He replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

            “I love you too.” She grabbed him by the collar and kissed him again. Hard. “And don’t EVER do that to me again!”

            He grinned, a lopsided kind of grin, one that made him look like a total rogue and a scoundral, but it softened. “I won’t. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

            “Neither do I.”

            They smiled at each other for a moment. “Sleep well.”

             “You too. Pleasant dreams.”

            “And to you as well.” He turned and walked down the stairs. Shelia shut the door and went to the window to watch him go. He exited the building and was mobbed by reporters. Shelia turned her head curiously as he held up his hand for silence. Curious, she went over to the holo and turned it on. She immediately saw her front step, with Tom standing on it.

            “I’ll take a few questions….yes?” Tom pointed.

            “Admiral, its good to see you up and about. Can you comment on the extent of your injuries? Offical sources have been closed mouthed.”

            “My injuries were somewhat serious, but I’m fully recovered now, and in full command. Yes, over there.”

            “Admrial, some are saying that the muinty was caused by your decsion to not fully implement the policies and programs of Emperor Palpatine. Can you comment?”

            “I really shouldn’t comment on an ongoing investigation. I’m sure all the information you want will come out in the trial.”

            “When is the trial, Admiral?”

            “When the prosecutors and the defense attonerys have agreed on a location an a time, you people will be the first to know.”

            “What about the pirates Admiral?”

            “They were neutralized. They no longer pose a threat to the peace and stability of this sector. Military restrictions on trade and travel will be lifted as soon as the orders can be processed.”

            “What about your relationship with Miss Medra? She was on board the Pride of Carida the entire time you were incapacitated.”

            “My relationship with Miss Medra is hardly newsworthy, young man. But if you must know, she is fine lady, and we are very close friends. There is nothing more you should or need to know. That’s all for now people, I have duties on board the Pride of Carida to attend to.” Tom ducked his head down and began to have his security personel plow through the crowd of reporters. The cameras followed him until the limo pulled out of view. Shelia sighed, and turned off the holo. She really needed to get some sleep, but she had some calls to make first.

           

 

            Tom sagged into the seat of the limo. He was much more tired than he had let on to either Shelia or the press. They both needed to see him healthy. At least for the moment. He thumbed his comlink. Farl’s voice answered immediately.

            “Yes?”

            “Arrange a pilot for me. Quietly. And I’m going straight to my quarters when I get back. Also very quietly.”

            “Aye sir.”

           

            “Tamaria Medra.”

            “Tam, its me, Shelia.”

            “Shelia! I just saw you on the news! How’s lover boy really doing?”

            “He’s hurting. He didn’t want me to know though, so I didn’t call him on it. He’ll be okay, though. He needs rest.”

            “Good. So whats up?”

            “Tam…I…”

            “What?”

            “Tam, I love him.”

            Tamaria sat bolt upright in her chair discarding her romance novel.

            “What?” Tamaria was shocked. Ever since the idiot Shelia had met in college, she had been reluctant to admit love.

            “I love him Tam. And I told him I love him.”

            “Shelia!” Tamaria shriked.  “You did? Oh this is so crazy! I can’t belive this. Its great!”

            “And he told me he loves me!”

            “OOOOOOOooooooo!” She squealed. “Do I get to be maid of honor at the wedding? Well, I really can’t be a maid, can I? I don’t qualify in that department anymore…how about, head bridesmaid?”

            “Tam, we aren’t there yet. Just because we love each other…” her voice trailed off.

            “Shelia, that’s the next logical step right? You love each other. People who do that get married.”

            “Well, yes…but I don’t think we’re ready…”

            “What do you mean not ready? You look great together. You get along great. You love each other.”

            “Tamaria, what makes you think he’ll want to marry me? He could have his pick of the women in this sector. He has plans and responsibilities I couldn’t even begin to imagine. Why me?”

            “Because you treated a nice sailor right when he ran into your newphew. Don’t over think this, Shelia. You love each other, you go well together.”

             “I know. I just worry that he’ll realize I’m a high school teacher, and he’s practically a head of state.”

            “I’m sure he’s aware of it already.”

 

            Davis collapsed onto the coach in his quarters, having shed his boots and tunic. His hand held a glass with tonic water. The doctor said no alchohol, but his hand needed something to do. He swirelled the ice in his glass. His aid looked over at him.

            “What?” Farl asked.

            “How did you know I wanted to ask you something?”

            “Your brow gets all furrowed when you’re about to ask a difficult question. It must be a personal question, since you never ask me a tactical one. You ask Patrick.”

            “Right.”

            “So, what’s the question?”

            “Do you think she’d want to marry me?”

            Farl laughed until he thought his sides would hurt. Tom glared at him accusingly.

            “I wasn’t joking, you know.”

            “I know, that’s what so funny,” Farl said, when he could stop laughing.

            “What do you mean?” Tom asked.

            “You’re so ernest about this,” Farl said. “Why wouldn’t she want to marry you? You’re perfect for each other. You love each other. You share interests, but you balance each other. I’ve never seen two people more appropriate for each other.

            “But what if she doesn’t want all…this?” Tom made an expansive gesture with his arm, encompassing the ship. “What if she doesn’t want to deal with it?”

            “I’m sure she’ll get used to it,” Farl replied. “If she really loves you, which I believe she does, she’ll find a way to deal with it.”

            “I suppose she will.” Tom sighed. “I’m just not used to dealing with this kind of thing. Most of my problems have always been, ‘What do I blow up first?’”        

            Farl chuckeled.

 

Sunlight was streaming through Shelia’s windows when she woke up next, early morning sunshine. She dragged herself out of bed. She was running late, but she got herself ready quickly and headed for school. She managed to brush her way through the crowd of reporters still camped on her doorstep, and make it to school on time. She was just reorganizing her paperwork when the bell rang and her class filed in. They watched her strangely, but she ignored them. The substitute reports on her desk were satisfactory, but not stellar. The test grades she had, on the other hand, were neither.

            “Well, I can see we’re going to have to review integration….”

 

            Davis sat at his desk, filling out the paperwork that had piled up in his absence. Disciplary forms, intelligence reports, procument sheets. It all piled up. And on top of that he had casualty reports and more letters to write. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He needed to get them looked at, all this reading was beginning to put a strain on his eyes. He shuddered at the though of going to the doctors so soon again after just having left. But he knew he would have to. These headaches were getting out of hand. His stomach gurgled for lack of food, and he reached into his desk drawer and contemplated the pre-wrapped pastries in the drawer. He hesitated. Occasionally, these would give him heartburn. He shrugged, and pulled one out. He didn’t have time to find real food, and maybe this time they wouldn’t bother him.

            He sighed as he munched, swiveling his chair to look out over the ship. The biggest problem he faced out here was maitenance. A ship this size required hundreds of thousands of parts, almost daily. While Parkpia, and the other worlds in the sector had a sizable industrial base, it was still impossible to replicate some items. What he needed was an orbital shipyard with a computer core, one that could replicate ship functions while the ship’s main computer was shut down for repair and upgrade. And while he was at it, he might have wished for a star fighter manufacturing facility and an orbital base with enough firepower to theoretically protect the airspace above Parkpia City. The planetary shield generator on Parkpia was another year away from being complete. Having to fabricate almost all the parts from scratch was slowing up the process considerably.  Davis finished his pasty, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shrugged off his uniform tunic and rolled up his sleeves, and dove back into his paperwork. He had to get through as much of this as he could before dinner.

 

            During her prep period, Shelia stayed in her classroom. She took a deep breath and keyed her com link.

            “Medra Resdience”

            “Hi mom.”

            “Shelia! How nice to hear from you! How are you?” Shelia smiled. Her relationship with her mother had always been warmer than her relationship with her father.

            “I’m good mom. Doing a lot better now that Tom’s doing better.”

            “Well…that’s good to hear.” Obviously her mother still harbored doubts about Tom, though.

            “Mom, the reason I called…”

            “Yes dear?”

            “Well, Tom and I, we…well, you had said you wanted to meet him, so I was wondering if we could come by for dinner tonight?”

            There was a pause on the other end of the comlink.

            “Tonight, my dear?”

            “Well, Tom is free, and he offered to take me to dinner, but I though I should bring him to see you.”

            “I guess it will be alright, I’ll have to call and tell you father to get home on time. What time dear?”

            “Any time this evening mom, Tom said he could be flexible.”

            “How about 6 then?”

            “Sounds fine mom, thanks. I have to go call Tom.”

            “See you tonight then dear.”

            “See you tonight mom.”

            She signed off and sighed, before keying in Tom’s frequency.

 

            It was mid-afternoon when Tom got the message. He had made signifgant progress on his paperwork, and was busy compling a report to forward to Fleet Command.

            “Why do you bother?” Farl asked, once Davis had finished. “You have no way of knowing if they even get those. We haven’t heard from them in months.”

            “Well, suppose they are getting them, and I stop sending them? They might come arrest me for desertion.”

            Farl snorted. “More likely they’ll come arrest you if you keep sending them. You were sent out here to die, you know that.”

            “Consider it a preserve pleasue then, to keep reminding them that they couldn’t manage to kill me properly.” Farl chuckled. “I honestly don’t know why,” Tom continued. “I guess I keep hoping that someone is listening, and that maybe some day, I’ll have done my penance and I’ll be able to return.”

            Farl nodded. “One can hope, I suppose.”

            “What do you suppose has happened in the last couple of months?” It had been at least three standard months since the last trader from Parkpia had ventured as far as the rim to get supplies and goods from the Core. The trader in question had been paid a hefty amount to bring back information to Davis, as well as a significant quantity of Corellian whiskey.

            When last they heard, the Rebel Alliance was reeling from the defeats at Derra IV, and Hoth, Admiral Ozzel had been “killed in action” and Piett was now commander of the 1^st Assault Fleet. Those two events had been enough to boil Davis’s blood. The Empire was expanding again. Rogriss was out in the Rim Sectors, merrily stamping out brushfire wars and chasing down pirates. The picture of the Rebels was more cloudy. There were some rumors that they were gaining strength, others that said the whole coalition was on the verge of collapse, Princess Leia had abandoned the crusade to become a smugglar, or more likely to rescue the rogue Han Solo from Jabba the Hutt. Most ominously were some of the records the crew had brought back. A very trusted junior officer in the computer control office of the Pride’s crew had been attached to the mission, with Imperial acess codes and orders to use them to find out what he could and report back to Davis. Local Imperial records showed large transfers of troops and material, and suspicious patterns of construction crew conscription. Davis had seen the pattern before. He hoped he was wrong.

            Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, Davis checked the chrono on the wall of his office. He had a meeting in 15 minutes with his head of Engineering on the status of the main reactor. He need to review his notes so he wouldn’t ask stupid questions.

 

            It was late before Shelia got home, a staff meeting had run unusually long, and she found herself slighty concerned about making dinner. A long black hoverlimo was waiting in the street, command flags stiring slightly in the breeze. She rolled her eyes as she hurried upstairs. She found Tom lazing about the corrirdor, shooting the breeze with the officer in charge of her security, holding a pastry. “Tom! We’re on our way to dinner! Don’t spoil your appetite.” Tom hastily thrust the pastry at the junior officer, who immediately took a big bite, in some comic attempt to disguise the fact that Tom had been eating it.

            “I was just holding it for him, isn’t that right, Lieutenant.”

            “Ooof crs, sr.” the man said around a mouthful of pastry.

            Shelia rolled her eyes. “Good to see you,” she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before letting herself into her apartment. She waited. “Well, are you coming in, or are you going to stand there like an idiot?”

            “Well, I figured I’d wait until you were ready…” Tom stammered, red blush creeping up his face.

            “This from the man who came out of a bacta tank in nothing but a towel.” She grabbed his arm. “C’mon you big lug.” She dragged him into the apartment behind her. “I should just give you the code.”

            “I know it, I just didn’t have permission to use it.” Tom replied, defensivly.

            “Well consider permission granted.” Shelia tossed back as she kicked off her shoes on her way to her bedroom. “I’ll be out in a minute, I’m just going to freshen up.”

            “How was your day?” Tom called.

            “Long.”

            “You sound nervous.” He observed. He thought this was a most profound observation.

            Men, Shelia thought. “Yes, of course I’m nervous. I don’t bring men home to meet my parents often. This is a big step. And of course, I don’t go home very often anyway. I get just about more than I can take of my father over the comlink, let alone at the same dinner table.” Shelia reappeared in a more casual blouse and putting on a fresh pair of shoes while she slipped in new earrings.

            “Hey,” he grabbed her.

            “What? We’re going to be la…oooh…” Tom had stopped her forward progress and put both hands on her shoulders, and was now doing the most exquisite things with his hands on her back and neck.

            “Relax,” he told her.  

            “That feels really good.”

            “You feel really tense,” he said. His breath was on the back of her neck now. “You should lighten up.” His lips touched her neck and she squirmed a little. His hands had found their way around her waist and she leaned back into him, sighing deeply and inhaling his scent: the smell of his aftershave, the sharp metallic scent of the ship, the funny stale smell of recycled air…odd as the smells were, they just added up perfectly as Tom.

            “See, was that so hard?” he asked.

            “No…but we need to go, we’re going to be a late.”

            “Do I look presentable?”

            She turned to look at him. Typically, he had his day uniform on, sharply pressed olive greens, spit shined black boots. In his hand he held something new, a cap of some kind. Not the peaked caps his officers wore, but a cap with a visor brim, round on top, and the Imperial Crest in the center, its color matching that of the uniform, and there was gold braid on the visor. She’d seen caps like it in pictures of the old Parkpia Navy.

            “Nice, where’d the hat come from?”

            “Some officers wear this kind as opposed to the skull caps. I like this kind better. Makes me feel rakish.” He put it on his head at a slight angle, and it did have the desired effect.

            “C’mon you big furbrain, lets go.”

 

            The limo pulled up in front of Shelia’s girlhood home only a few minutes later. Tom got up and held the door for her. He’d insisted on putting on a pair of glareshades and it had only added to the uniform effect, and she wondered on how she was going to concentrate on anything during dinner with the mental image he’d given her.

            He offered her his arm as the walked up to the door. No one was at the door, so Shelia sighed and let herself in. “Mom? Dad?”

            “I’m in the kitchen dear, your father’s in his study.”

            “I’m right here Brima.”

            Tom sized up the man who walked into the living room. Tom estimated that he was taller than the man by a good half meter, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in pure bulk. The man was the size of  barn, but didn’t seem to have a scrap of excess fat on him. They eyed each other as warily as two wild canines vying for leadership of the pack. Tom could feel the man’s disproval.

            “Dad, this it Tom, Tom Davis. Tom, my father, Lindersgog Medra.”

            “A pleasure to meet you sir,” Tom said, diplomatically, extending his hand. Hesitatly, Lindersgog took his hand, and shook it with a crushing grip that had Tom bracing himself against visibly wincing. He returned the grip in kind. His eyes acknowledged the return grip, and when they released it seemed as if Tom had passed the first test, but he knew it was only the first in a long line.

            “Its good to meet you too,” he said finally, “Shelia’s told us so much about you.” He looked like he was about to say more, when Shelia’s mother appeared, much in contrast with her husband. Mrs. Medra appeared to be a warm woman, tall, but not quite thin anymore, though Tom could certainly see that she once could have been. She appeared matronly, and sweet. She took Tom’s hand cautiously, but with more enthusiasm than her father.

            “So good to meet you at last. You’re all Shelia has spoken of for weeks. I’ve never seen her so happy.” Tom got the impression that Mrs. Medra, or Brima, as she insisted he call her, would be fine if Shelia went on being happy with him, but she wasn’t sure if Shelia was going to remain happy.

            Tom hoped to dispel that notion at all costs.

            Mr. Medra kept glaring at him like he shuddered at the thought of him even being close to his daughter.

            Tom filed the look away for when he had his own daughters. It was very effective.

            Dinner was entertaining. Tom told stories of the Pride. Mrs. Medra told stories of Shelia as a child, which he cataloged for black mail material. Brima seemed to be warming to him.

            Mr. Medra continued staring.

            He did find out that Mr. Medra taught mathematics theory at Parkpia University, and had played shockball in high school and college. He’d also been a professional very briefly before returning to academia. It forced Tom to reevaluate his opinion of shockball players who he normally thought of as dumb jocks. 

            They were just finishing up dessert when his comlink pinged.

            “Excuse me for a moment, I’ll just take this in the living room.” He said embarrassed and annoyed. This had better be good…he though.

 

            Shelia looked at her parents imploringly. They have to like him. They have to understand.

            “I think he’s a delightful young man.” Her mother said, and Shelia sighed in relief. Her father humphed.

            “Well, he’s more articulate that I imagined, and he certainly has a good head on his shoulders. I’m not convinced he’s not a rogue, however.” Shelia felt like flying. That was about the best she could have hoped for from her father.

            “Thank you daddy!” She gushed, and rushed around the table to give him a hug, and continued on to her mother. “Thanks mom.”

            “I’m not sure you really need our approval anymore dear, but we appreciate you sharing him with us nonetheless,” her mother said.

            Her father had his head cocked. Tom’s heated voice could be heard in the kitchen indistinctly. He was obviously agitated.

            “Why don’t you help your mother clear up dinner, Shelia. I’d like to speak with your young man alone for a few moments.” Her father offered, getting up from the table.

 

            “…no of course not! You people can’t think for yourselves once in a while.” Davis was furious. He’d left strict instructions not to be disturbed, but someone had obviously not gotten the memo.

            “I’ll deal with it when I get back to the ship. Don’t disturb me again.”

            He disconnected and closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to settle his nerves before going back into the kitchen. He turned and Mr. Medra was standing there. The corners of his mouth were turned up in what might have passed for a smile.

            “Browbeating the minions?” Medra asked.

            Davis sighed. “There’s always someone who thinks what he had to tell me is so important that they can ignore me when I say I’m not to be disturbed.” Medra nodded.

            “A drink?” He asked.

            “I’d love one.”

            “The bar is in my study.”

            Davis followed the man to a well appointed study with polished oak and leather furniture, bookshelves on all four walls. Medra poured himself a drink from the mini-bar, and turned toward Davis, expectantly.

            “Whiskey, on the rocks,” he replied. Medra handed him the drink after pouring in, and waved him into a chair.

            Davis felt like he was 17 again, getting lectured by Dal’s father before taking her to the high school dance.

            “I don’t pretend to understand things I don’t know anything about,” Medra began. “All I know is what I hear. So maybe you could tell me exactly what you’re doing out here, and not fighting the rebellion in the Core.”

            Davis nodded slowly, sipping his drink. So this was what this was about.  “I’m here because I stood up for what I believed.”       

            Medra snorted. “A good way to get yourself killed,” Davis opened his mouth to protest, but Medra barreled through, “But not an altogether bad way to go. Explain.”

            Davis paused to gather himself, and began to tell his story. The corruption, the Death Star, the Wookies. Medra nodded as he told the story, eyes never leaving his.

            “I see,” he said, when Davis finished. There was a long silence. “You understand of course, I think that you are in some serious trouble if the Empire ever catches up with you.”

            Davis nodded. “Its always a risk. I’m not exactly sure what Fleet Command would say about the situation out here.”

            “I didn’t want a life time of uncertainty for my daughter.” He began. “But she’s aways needed adventure. She’s not like her sister Fiona. A rock, that one. I’m so very proud of her. And her younger sister Tamaria…well…” Medra grimaced like he’d swallowed a sour fruit. “I love her dearly but…” He cleared his through, and turned his eyes back to Tom. “Shelia still needs certainty, however. And she’s my daughter. You understand that I don’t care how many men or ships or machines you have. If you hurt her, things will go very badly for you.”

            “I understand, sir.” Tom paused. There was no time like the present. “I’d like to give her certainty.” Medra’s eyes narrowed, but Tom plunged ahead. “I want to make her as certain as the sun rising. I’d like to ask her to marry me, if she’ll have me.”

            There was a long silence in the room, broken only by the ticking of the mechanical chronometer on the wall.

            “Have you discussed this at all with her?”

            Tom shifted in his chair. “Not directly. We’ve talked about the future in vauge terms though. The fact is, every time I look into my own future now, I can’t picture it without her. I love her, and I need her.” Tom paused, “She’s not like the other women I meet. Shelia has a sparkle, a zest for life. A wit that she’s not afraid to use. On me. I need that, someone who’s comfortable enough to tell me where to get off. Someone who loves me for me and not the damn uniform.” Tom hadn’t meant to swear, but it just sort of came out. It didn’t faze Medra however, who gazed at him levelly.

            “Well,” he began after another long pause. “If that’s the way you feel, there’s nothing I can really do to stop it. She’s old enough to make her own decisions.” Tom felt his heart flying. “But if she comes to me for advice…” Tom froze. “I think I’ll have to tell her she’s a pretty lucky girl.” Tom closed his eyes in relief as the corners of Medra’s mouth turned up in that almost smile. He never quite seemed to be able to stop scowling. He extended his hand across toward Tom and he took it, shaking it, and exchanging more with their eyes. There was an understanding there now. He knew that Medra would never quite be comfortable with him, but the relationship was workable. There was a knock at the door.

            “I told you mom, they’re in here, drinking. Next dad I’ll probably be offering him one of those stupid cigars.” Shelia came in and kissed them both on the cheek. “Are you two coming out to join the rest of us any time soon.”

            “We’re right behind you my dear,” Medra said, and for the first time, it didn’t sound like a growl when he spoke. Shelia turned in surprise, and looked warily between Tom and her father. She cocked an eyebrow at Tom who just shrugged.

            “So tell me, boy, did you ever play any shockball?” her father asked loudly.

            “Well, sir, no, not exactly, only as a pickup game…”

 

            When Tom and Shelia left later, the limo took them back to her apartment. “Caf?” Shelia offered.

            Tom looked at his crono. “I want to…but I really should get back. I have an early meeting in the morning.” He sighed. “But I’ll see you to the door.”

            She smiled at him, “Alright,” she replied, taking his hand. They walked in silence to the door, she leaned heavily on his shoulder in the failing twilight. She didn’t really want him to leave. They arrived at her door, and she turned to face him, and smiled at him as she opened the door. He followed her in, hesitantly. 

            “I can’t stay long,” he said reluctantly.

            “I know,” she sighed, and turned and grasped his face with both her hands and kissed him.

            Tom brought his hands down around her waist, drawing her close to him. The temperature in the room was rising rapidly, as Tom breathed in her scent, a faint hint of her perfume, as well the food from dinner. Her proximity was intoxicating. He tangled his hand in her beautiful hair, cradling her face against his as they kissed, tangling their tounges, dueling playfully. Tom had to remember to control himself. This couldn’t go any farther. Tonight, he reminded himself, Any farther, tonight. Another time…

            “Shelia,” Tom breathed in her ear. She was backed up against the counter.

            “Tom,” she smiled at him as he looked back. Her eyes were smokey, her hair was hanging down around her, framing her face. “I love you.”

            “I love you too,” he kissed her nose.

            “Tom…please…,” she hesitated, “Stay.” She looked imploringly at him.

            Tom closed his eyes and sighed.  He knew what she was offering him. And he wanted it. Badly.

            “Send the limo back, stay the night. Please, I want you,” she spoke as she leaned into him, and ran a hand over his face. She kissed his cheek. “Please stay.”

            “Shelia, I want to, I really do. You know I do.”

            “But you can’t,” she pulled back, smiling sadly at him.

            “Honey, if I don’t leave, it will be on the cover of every tawdry newspaper from here to Hallicorn. You know that. You don’t want that either.”

            She sighed. “I know. And I guess I really don’t. But I want you Tom. I want to hold you.”

            “And I want to hold you too. But I should really go.”

            “I know.” She sighed. “Will it always be like this?”

            “No,” he replied immediately. “We’ll work some things out.” He promised.

            “Good.” She leaned in to kiss him again. “I’ll look forward to it.”

            He ran a hand down her back, all the way to her rear end, and she jumped and squealed. He drew her toward him one last time, and lowered his mouth on hers. After a few moments, he finally let her go, and pulled away. She followed him to the door.

            “Goodnight Tom, sweet dreams.”

            “I’ll dream of you,” he smiled. “Good night Shelia.” Shelia shivered at the look he gave her, and he looked torn as he let his fingers slip out of hers.

            “Its alright Tom, you were right.”

            “Sleep well, sweet dreams.”

            Shelia knew what she was going to dream about tonight, “Don’t worry, I’ll have the sweetest.” She gave him a smoldering look as she leaned on the door frame.

            For a moment, he looked as if he was going to seize her and kiss her senseless, but thought the better of it. He kissed her softly on the cheek and turned and fled down the hallway.

            Shelia sighed, and shut the door. She was too wound up to go to bed right away, so she collapsed on the couch and pulled her legs up underneath her skirt and flicked on the holo. She surfed through the various programs for a while, before she sighed and went to go take a shower.

 

            Tom sighed as he arrived in his room. He was really too wound up to go to bed. The truth was that if he could have, he would have stayed the night with Shelia. But he didn’t want to subject her to that kind of scrutiny. Especially so soon after meeting her parents. He took off his tunic, and pulled off his boots. He sat on the couch, watching the planet spin beneath him. He finally gave in and picked up his comlink.

           

            Shelia was toweling her hair after a long, hot, shower. It had felt so good. She had almost given in and drawn a bubble bath, but she had decided she might have fallen asleep in the tub.

            She heard the comlink pinging, and slipping on her bathrobe, she walked out to answer it.

            “Hello?”

            “Shelia?”

            “Tom!” Shelia was delighted. “Why are you calling?”

           

            Tom realized that he was about to sound very stupid. “I miss you. I’m not ready to hit the rack, and I figured we could just talk.”

            “All right.” Shelia smiled even though he couldn’t see her. “What are you up to tomorrow?”

            “I’m not sure yet,” he replied honestly. “I have a meeting in the morning with the chief architect about the damage. Then I may have to go to Urbia, for a meeting with the Govenor.” He told a little fib there. And there was something else going on tommorow that he wasn’t about to share with her…yet. “Tommorow night? I don’t know. It depends on what goes on during the day. The ship isn’t going anywhere in a hurry, and I may be able to get back from Urbia before it gets too late, but if the meeting with the Governor runs over, I’ll probably have to stay there over night.”

            “That’s too bad.” She replied.

            “Yeah. What are you up to?”

            “I’ll probably sleep in a little, and maybe go visit Fiona. I’ll just sort of play it as it comes. Maybe go out with Tamaria, if she doesn’t have a date.”

            “Sounds like a good plan. A nice relaxing day. I’ve forgotton what one of those could be like.”

            “When’s the last time you had one?”

            Tom paused to think. “Well, its probably been at least two years.”

            “Two years! Tom you need some time off!”

            “I know, but I can’t get away. Everything has been so critical, I can’t afford to take any time.”

            “That’s terrible! Can’t you leave the ship to your second in command or something?”

            “Well, its not just the ship, its all the troops on the planets, its browbeating the governors, coordinating local militias, all the politics that I despise. I don’t trust anyone to handle it besides myself.”

            “What about that Commadore Sycho?”

            “I don’t trust him.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I don’t trust him. We don’t like each other.”

            “You don’t? I thought you picked someone you trusted as your second in command?”

            “I didn’t pick Szycho. He came with the ship. He was the construction unit commander. At the time, I thought bringing him on to help me get used to the ship was a good move. Then I couldn’t get rid of him. And now I’m stuck with him.”

            “What’s wrong with him?”

            “He’s a martinet. He’s all shine and no substance. And he’s not a people person. We have two very different management styles.”

            “SO you don’t get along?”

            “No, not at all. And I don’t trust him.”

            “So you’re afraid to leave him charge?”

            “Yes.”

            “So sack him. Fire him.”

            “I can’t really do that without cause. I’d like to have somewhere else to put him. If I had an orbital station in orbit over Parkpia, I’d give him command of it, but I don’t. I would rather have Kieller as my second.”

            “You seem pretty close to him. How long have you known him?”

            “I’ve known him since he was a cadet. He became something like my protégé. And a good friend.”

            “And Farl?”

            “Good stars, Farl, he’s been around forever. I rescued him from career hell as an XO of a Corellian Corvette. He’s like a confessor for me. Also a good friend.”

            “What do you mean, career hell?”

            “He was at a dead end. He wasn’t going to rise any higher in the ranks. If I hadn’t requested his assignment to me, he probably would have gotten out.”

            “So you brought him along with you?”

            “Yeah. Glad I did every day.”

            “So what kind of famous people have you met?”

            “Well, besides Han Solo?’

            “Yeah.”

            “I met Baron Fel, the fighter pilot. You probably haven’t heard of him. Who would you like to know if I’ve met?”

            “Did you ever meet the Emperor?”

            “Stars no. And I’m glad I haven’t. I have seen Darth Vader from afar, but I was never introduced. I met Bail Organa and his daughter at a function for the Senate.”

            “How about Tarkin?”

            “Never had the pleasure. I’ve met Mon Mothma, and Senator Bel Ibis of Corellia.”

            “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of either them.”

            “I don’t think you’ll know anybody I’ve met.”

            “Probably true. I just wanted to know if you’d ever met the Emperor.”

            “Nope.”

            There was a comfortable silence on the phone. “So what are you doing right now?” Shelia asked him.

            “Just sitting around, doing nothing. Watching the planet going by.”

            “Are you ready to go to bed?”

            “No, I haven’t changed yet. I’m still wearing my shirt and my pants. You?”

            “I just got out of the shower, I’m just here in my bathrobe. I still have to put on my nightgown.” Tom closed his eyes as his blood started draining away from his brain with that revelation. He shook his head to clear the visual of Shelia in her bathrobe.

            “Something wrong?” she asked sweetly.

            Tom growled. “You’re trying to make me regret not staying the night with you.”

            “Whatever gave you that idea? Hang on a second, I want to go put my hair up in a towel and put on my nightgown.”

            Tom leaned back, and began to recite portions of the Imperial Officer’s Handbook. He took the handset with him as he wandered into his bedroom, and peeled off his shirt while he was waiting for Shelia to get back. He pulled off his pants and socks, and slipped on his academy issue pajama bottoms. He sat down on the bed and he heard Shelia humming to herself as she got herself ready for bed.

            “You still there, honey?” her voice was clear, and light, like bell tones. Tom let his head fall back on his pillow.

            “Yeah, I’m here. I just was getting ready for bed myself.”

            “Tired?”

            “Getting there. I should really get some sleep. Everytime I close my eyes though, I see  you up against that kitchen counter, with the slit in your skirt, and that blouse. What is that made of anyway? Its so soft.”

            “I’m glad you like it.”

 

            Shelia had felt delightfully sinful as she had stood by the com and changed into her nightgown. Even though he couldn’t see, she had put on her slinkiest nightgown. It was silk, soft against body, and left very little to the imagination, as it practically sheer. And now he was complimenting her earlier attire. She would have to remember to wear her mid-length skirts more often since he obviously seemed to like them.

            “I don’t really know.” She admitted, taking the portable comlink into the bed with her. “You liked it?”

            “Yes. It was smooth, like your skin.”

            Shelia closed her eyes and imagined his hands on her skin. She needed to stop that if she was ever going to sleep.

            “So if I don’t see you tommorow, would you like to do lunch maybe on Sunday?”

            “I wouldn’t see why not.”

            “Alright. We’ll work it out when I call tomorrow night.”

            “You’ll call?”

            “Of course. I should really go to sleep.”

            “Okay,”

            “Good night Shelia.”

            “Good night Tom.”

            There was a click that indicated the end of the conversation, and Shelia sighed and settled into her pillows. As she rolled over onto her side and curled up, smiling to herself, thinking of Tom.

 

            Tom stared at the celing of his cabin and slowly drifted off, thinking about what he had planned for the next day, and thinking the look on Shelia’s face when she finally found out.

 

            “Well, Admiral, I believe that about does it.” The lawyers shook hands all around. Tom held the paperwork in his hands.

            “Thank you, very much,” Davis replied, gazing at the flat hologram on the front cover of the deed materials. He fingered the keys in his other hand. Attonrny Fromm smiled at him.

            “Easiest transaction I’ve handled in years. Is there anything else I can help you with Admiral?”

            “No, thank you. I think I’ll go have a look.”

            “I’ll go with you,” the Attorney offered. “I’ve been there once already.”

            The drive was short, with Attorney Fromm following the unmarked sedan in his own airspeeder. Davis got out at the gate and worked the keycard in the locked iron gate. The old gates swung open and the two vehicles drove up the wide, tree lined driveway. Between the trees, Davis could see wide, unkempt lawns on either side of the drive. At the end of the driveway, the space opened up into a clu-due sac, around an overgrown garden with a fountain. The house had several broken windows, but otherwise seemed intact. Davis and Farl, accompanied by Attorney Fromm and a pair of plainclothes stormtroopers, entered the house. The layer of dust had recently been disturbed, probably by the estate acution. The entryway was large, with a marble floor, and two staircases on either side of the room, sweeping up onto a second floor balcony. Double doors gave entry into the main portion of the house, ahead of him and to both sides. Fromm was poining.

            “Over there is the library-study,  to the right is formal sitting room, as well as the formal dining room. Ahead is the living area. Upstairs, three bedrooms.”

            Davis scuffed hit boot against the entryway floor. Underneath the dust was a marble floor. There appeared to be some kind of inlay. “Any idea what’s on the floor?” he asked.

            “The pictures of when the hosue was in use indicate some kind of family crest.”

            “Really?” Davis pondered, before sweeping up the stairs to overlook the open entryway.

            “Farl, make a note. I think we’ll have floor changed out, and put the Imperial Crest inlaid into the floor.”

            “Aye, sir.” Farl said making notes. They went into the study. The furniture was covered with tarps, and Davis pulled it back. It was mainly wood and leather.

            “I think we’ll keep the furniture in this room.” Davis commented, brushing back a dusty old curtain, and wiping away the cobwebs from the window, letting a ray of sunshine into the room. They worked their way through the rest of the house and the grounds. Davis was impressed. Their was lots of land, and the outbuildings could easily be converted into garage and hanger space, as well as guest housing and security buildings. There was a large area behind the house that could be a landing pad for a shuttle. There was a pool and a hot tub. The bedrooms needed to be redone completely, as well as the kitchen. They were currently standing in the solarium, where some plants had died and were brown, while others had run wild, growing everywhere throughout the room. “It looks good,” Davis said, feeling very pleased. “You’re help has been invaluable, Attorney Fromm.”

            “Well, its been a pleasure to help you, Admiral. Let me know if you’ll need any other assistance.”

            “Well, if all goes according to plan, I may need to set up some trusts and a new will, so I’ll let you know.”

            “Anytime Admiral, anytime.”

            “Well, Farl, its time to get going. If I want to have any time in Urbia before my meeting, its time to go.”

            “I’ll start contacting builders and remodlers.”

            “No, I want to try and keep this one under wraps. We’ll do this one in house. I want to put a secondary emergency command room and some other things in the basement, so we’ll have a legitmate reason for keeping this one in the family.”

            “Aye sir, I’ll have the shuttle put on standby.”

            “Good man.”

 

            Shelia watched Eugune run in the yard while she sat and sipped her iced tea with Fiona.

            “I can’t believe you actually took him to meet mom and dad,” Fiona was saying, talking with Shelia and let her eyes follow Eugune around the yard.

            “It went relatively well,” Shelia admitted. “I was surprised. Not nearly as well as it went with you and Rodney, of course, but better than one would have thought.”

            “I’m surprised Dad let him live.” Fiona scoffed. “They’ve done nothing but fume that you should find a nice local boy and settle down.”

            Shelia sighed. “Tom is a local boy, in a way. He’ll be in the area. Sort of.”

            “Mmmhmm.” Fiona’s tone made it clear Shelia  stretching. “So when are you going to the ball?”

            “I think Tom said its been rescheduled for next weekend.”

            “Tamaria tells me the dress is something else.”

            “I love my dress.” Shelia beamed. “It looks so good.”

            “Tamaria doesn’t think you’ll be wearing it long.”

            Shelia choaked on her iced tea. “Tamaria can be a little vamp sometimes, honestly.” Fiona giggled.

            “Well, weill you?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Have you, you know…?” Fiona waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

            “No,” Shelia said exasperated.

            Fiona looked disappointed. “Well, if you haven’t being doing that, what have you been doing?”

            “Silly things, really. Watching a movie, just talking on the comm. That kind of thing,” Shelia said, feeling a little ridiculous. “Wasn’t it like that with you and Rodney?”

            “Well, yeah, but after kids, the romance looses its luster for a while. I need to live vicariously through you.” Shelia sighed heavily.

            “Between you and Tamaria, I don’t get to keep anything to myself anymore.”

            “Well, you’re my little sister, and you’re her older sister. You’re not allowed to keep anything to yourself. We need to know everything,” Fiona replied.

            Shelia rolled her eyes as Eugune tottered over with some kind of slimy creature.

            “I’ll think I’ll let you handle this one, Mom,” Shelia said, pointing Eugune to her mother.

            “Thank, sis.” Fiona glared as Shelia laughed.

 

            The shuttle touched down at the Urbia spaceport, and Davis and Farl quickly got out and made their way to another unmarked air speeder with a couple of plainclothes security officer. Davis was now dressed in civilian clothes, as was Farl. The speeder made its way down to the commercial district of Urbia’s primary city. Davis watched the storefronts go by, looking carefully.

            “There,” Daivs pointed at a modest looking store front, that read, Soloman’s Jeweler

            The airspeeder pulled up in front of the building and Davis, Farl, and his two guards got out. The guards stayed outside while Farl and Davis went in. A jovial looking old man was behind the counter. “Can I help you?”

            “I’m just browsing around,” Davis replied, trying to sound casual.

            “Let me know if you need any help,” the man said knowingly.

            Davis perused the glass cases, showing various gemstones, set in everything from rings to anklets. He let himself linger over the display case with the solitaire rings.

            “See anything Thomas?” Farl asked.

            “Not yet, I’m still looking though,” Davis replied. The man wandered over.

            “Looking for something for the lady?”

            Davis was about to tell the man it was none of his business, but he hesitated, and replied, “Yes, actually.”

            “Do you have a price range?”

            Davis looked up in surprise, he had expected to be recognized face to face, but obviously that wasn’t the case. “Well, I’m not really sure. I can afford a little bit.”

            “Write down a number,” The jewler suggested, sliding a card across the counter at him. Davis smiled, and took the card, and wrote down a ball park figure that he expected to spend. The jeweler took it back, and looked at it without comment.

            “What kind of woman is she?”

            Davis paused. “She’s wonderful, she’s got a sparkling personality.”

            “Physcially, though, is she tall, or thin, what color is her skin?”

            “Well, she’s kind of fair skinned, with dark hair. She has long thin fingers.”

            “What does she do?”

            “She’s a teacher.”

            “Hmmm,” the old man replied, walking around inside ring of counters. “Would you say she’s delicate?”

            Davis paused. “Yes, yes, I would think so.”

             

                       

           

 

 

           

 

             

 

           

           

 

 

 

 

            The night had been perfect. It was a warm, breezy Parkpia summer evening. Tom had arrived with flowers, wearing his dress uniform. He had appeared distant, somewhat distracted, and nervous. Shelia had assumed that something was up with the Pride and knew better not to ask. They went to the Parkpia Officer's Club, where they had dinner and danced until the night was on the wane. Finally Tom had asked her if she wanted to go for a ride. It was late, but the stars were beautiful, and Parkpia's twin asteroid moons cast a pale blue hue on the evening giving it surreal atmosphere. They hopped in a hovercar, and Tom began driving through town with purpose, pausing only to look at street signs. Finally they seemed to arrive at their destination. Tom punched in a code at a security console and a large old looking metal gate swung open, and Tom pulled down the drive. The driveway ended in a cul-de-sac, fronting an imposing, but pretty townhouse, with pillars in front. The house itself looked a little run down, but in the pale moonlight Shelia could see construction vehicles parked off in the distance, on either side of the driveway. The light was just good enough for her to make out the Imperial logo on the side of one of the trucks. Her heart fluttered for a moment, and she didn't quite know why.

            She looked up at Tom, who was browsing at construction progress. He still had the young, boyish look of a starfighter pilot in his twenties. She had marveled at his stories of how he had soared through the ranks of the Navy, to be one of the youngest full Admirals in history. He had only been 31 when she had met him, and that was nearly two years ago. And he had been in the Unknown Regions for nearly 3.

            She had just turned 29 when he had nearly run her down in the marketplace. When they began dating, both her sisters had been pleased with the match. Her mother on the other hand, was lukewarm with the whole idea, warning her multiple times that getting involved with sailors was bad business. Her father was not pleased. Tom was two years older than her, a sailor, worse a starfighter pilot, and one with uncertain loyalties. Her father had been convinced that Tom was a rogue, and a fugitive. Someday the Empire was going to hunt him down, and punish all those around, as was the Empire’s custom, her father always said.

            But she was 29, and she had her own apartment, so she could date whomever she pleased, as far as she was concerned. After a while, she found herself falling in love with the young Admiral. He had proven his loyalty to her multiple time. One time, after a riot broke out near her apartment, an officer with a pair of stormtroopers arrived at her door, begging her pardon, but the Admiral want to be sure she was all right. It was the things like that that made her love him. Suddenly Tom's arm went around her shoulders, jolting her from her reverie.

            "Well, what do you think?"

            "It's a nice house. Pretty."

            "Needs some work."

            "Yes, I suppose," Shelia could feel Tom's arm shaking.

            "It's mine. I bought it two days ago. I've already got a crew working on it."

            Shelia took another look at the construction vehicles. Using military equipment and personal on a private project was probably technically illegal, which made this project a very important one to Tom. Her heart fluttered again. Tom took a deep breath.

            "It's awfully big."

            "Yes."

            "I guess..." he paused "I guess I'm going to need someone to share all that space with."

            Shelia's eyes went wide, and her heart raced. Tom smiled.

            "So, I guess I'm asking you to marry me Shelia," Tom pulled a box from his pocket and held it out to her.

            She took it, and opened it. The large gemstone seemed to gather in what little light there was, and emit it back out in a beautiful glitter. Shelia wasn't sure what it was, but was positive the stone was as genuine (and as priceless!) as his love for her. She gasped. "Oh Tom! Yes! Yes I will!"

            Tom exhaled, indicating that he had been holding his breath, and they embraced and kissed. After a moment, Tom recovered his breath, and said,

            "You can meet with the architect tomorrow afternoon. What ever you want, you can have. It's going to be your house...”

 

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