Star Wars: Tapestry

[ij thompson]

"Wha?"

Fiola Shaku awoke with a start, shaken out of sleep by a blinding white light in her eyes and emergency klaxons ringing in her ears. Her bunkroom's door seemed to have opened on automatics, and the corridor outside was a cacophony of shouts and running feet, punctuated by flashes of coloured light.

Rubbing her eyes confusedly, she tried to recall where she was. Right, she remembered, the Star Queen. She'd been performing for passage in one of the liner's many casinos, on her way to Mimbos, a planet with a suddenly booming economy and a reputed desperate need for entertainment. However, the Star Queen was not due at Mimbos for at least another three standard days.

"Then what...?" Fi mumbled, rising from the bed.

By way of reply, a cheery, automated voice echoed down the corridor and into her bunkroom. "All crew and passengers, please make your way calmly to the escape pods. Abandon ship. Repeat, abandon ship."

Struggling hurriedly to pull on last night's clothes, Fi grabbed her treasured mandoviol in its case, and slung it across her back. Suitcase clenched in one fist (she'd never been one to unpack a suitcase), Fiola flew out the door and into the rushing crowd, cornering the first steward who happened by.

"What's going on here?", she demanded, trying to halt the rushing crewman.

"Outta the way, pipsqueak," the steward shouted, roughly elbowing his way past her and retreating down the corridor, "It's every man for himself!"

Looking around in bewilderment, Fiola felt her insides suddenly flip-flop, despite the vessel's still-functioning artificial gravity. The Star Queen seemed to have been hit hard by something, and judging by the stars viewed out a nearby port, had begun to spin... fast.

"Uh-oh..."

Swept along by the panicked crowd, Fi shortly found herself in a large chamber with numerous hatches on one side. Passengers and crewmembers alike were throwing themselves into the hatches, which were closing hot on their heels. As the pods behind the hatches ejected one after another, fights were breaking out all over the chamber for the remaining pods.

Being thankful she was so small, Fi ducked under numerous swinging arms, pointed blasters, and attempted bribes as she bee-lined for one pod which had an empty seat visible. Throwing herself inside, she yelped as the hatch door came down on her heel painfully, pulling it out of the threshold just seconds before it would have been crushed.

Falling into the only empty seat of twelve, Fiola Shaku barely had time to strap in as the pod erupted from the doomed Star Queen, and began tumbling away toward who-knew-where...

[Darth_Vader2005]

On an unimportant Mid Rim industrial planet in a Mid Rim unimportant sector in a small unimportant bar, marked only by a tankard painted on the outside wall is a hunted man. Hunted by the very Empire he swore to protect, hunted by former colleagues, hunted to the edge of death. His name is Tey Spires.

The last two months have taken their toll on the ex-CorSec officer, making him look ten years past his thirty-three standards years. His brown hair lies untidily, his patched clothes look battered and worn; the once fine combat jacket would look more at home wrapped around a Courascanti bum and the holster at his belt appears to be held together with spit and prayers.

Held inside said holster rests an elegant and refined looking blaster pistol, ill fitting with the rest of his outfit and showing signs of constant maintenance. And use. To those few perceptive souls in a similar line of work as the fugitive a small hold-out blaster will be visible, in the waistband under his jacket. Finally a small vibroshiv rides in a boot sheath on his right leg.

He sits alone in a booth on the edge of the tapcafe, occasionally sipping an opaque orange liquid, and occasionally adding to it from a silver hip flask. His eyes scan the room habitually, but his attention rests on a rotund rodian sitting in the centre of the room and losing at sabacc.

The rodian's name is Beelo Ranuk, an Imperial informer who might be able to help Tey find who framed him, and help prove his innocence. At least that's the plan....

[Mack Jace]

Morec woke to the sound of klaxons blaring. He had been having a good sleep, one without any dreams, so he figured he'd be woken up soon. He stood up and dressed in total darkness, knowing every square inch of his bunkroom. Placing his helmet on his head, everything became clear. The room was sparse, everything functional with little to no luxuries. Of course, even if he could have afforded them, he still wouldn't spend his money on luxuries.

He took about five minutes to get ready, then when he was sure he was ready, he moved out. Only when he was moving down the hallways of the compound did he flip on the armor's comm system.

"-THE FRELL IS BIRTROK?! --- WHAT? WE'VE GOT IMPS COMIN' OUT OUR EARS, AND HE'S ASLEEP?! SOMEBODY WAKE THAT -"

"I'm here commander, no need to get panicked," Morec says calmly, knowing that it just irritated the commander that he was so calm. Morec just laughed it off.

"THANK THE FORCE! BIRTROK, GET THE FRELL OVER TO SECTOR D! WE'VE GOT A FULL BLOWN INVASION ON OUR HANDS! THEY'RE BRINGING IN THE STORM COMMANDOES ANY MINUTE NOW, AND WE NEED YOU TO - " An explosion rents the airwaves, and the commander comes back on, more focused now. "JUST GET HERE AS SOON AS YOU CAN!"

Morec broke into a run, wondering just how the Imps had found their location on Bellassa. They were hidden deep in the mountains, surrounded by the trees, and were almost undectable, except to the most exact search. There weren't many Rebels on base, but the ones that were were the kind you looked for in a fight.

He skidded around a corner with his rifle in front of him, and was greeted by the sight and sounds of blasterfire being exchanged. He ducked a few stray shots that made it past the line of Rebels. The Sector the Imperials had decided to make an attack on was one of the most well-defended ones of the compound. It was a large cavern converted to storage space, which provided the defenders with lots of cover. The Imperials had made it past the opening to the cavern, and were trying to force through the line. The end of the corridor Morec was in was where the defense started.

He jumped behind a pile of crates in the corridor, causing each of the Rebels there to jump.

"Cripes Birtrok!" One yelled, ""Bout time you got here! We need you to help us clear these guys out of here, at least until the transports can get out of here!"

Morec merely nodded, then hoisted his rifle in one hand, and pulled out a grenade with the other. He crouched, and one of the soldiers gave him a weird look.

"What the frell do you think you're doing?" He yelled to Morec, ducking a shot from the Imperials.

Morec flipped his comm on, and said simply, "I'm gonna finish this fight," then disappeared around the corner and into the maelstrom.

[SingaporeXSling]

Engines whined as the Blade Runner spiraled after the VCX-350 freighter. Corellia's space sector was fairly light, or at least compared to the normal travel in the sky. However the two incoming ships seemed to find that every other transport was in their way or darn well near it.

"Sith-spit!" Jake cursed as he spun the controls of the Cutlass-9 patrol fighter around in order to doge a nearby shuttle. "I'm not NOT going to get a frigin break here am I!"

He tapped his controls vigorously attempting not to hit anything but still get the freighter to land. Nex had been chasing Gruub Vess, a particularly fat Houk, for a few days. Finally he had traced him down, but unfortunately for Jake Nex, Gruub knew who he was and ran on the spot - that's when the space chase started.

The VCX-350 freighter Gruub had hijacked slammed into some of the smaller star ships, spiraling them off to the side. The nose quickly spun up as it attempted to land on an open skyed platform it had been gunning for, but missed it and crashed into some of the nearby earth.

Jake jerked the controls up, leveling out the Blade Runner as it seemed to slam its landing gear onto the platform. He popped the cockpit door open quickly and swung his legs around the edge rushing towards the crashed ship. Gruub shuffled out of the cockpit and into the crowd running mad, throwing people behind him. Jake kept sprinting forward.

For a fat alien this pig is fast. I am so not going to lose him. Jake thought as he jumped over some of the fallen travelers.

Jake panted, looked around and saw the crowd had grown much more than he thought. Many panicked people ran in all directions and all the commotion was to much to take in. If he was ever going to get this guy and collect his money he had to think fast. He spun around looking in all directions and spotted a fountain with a large statue in the middle of it. He rushed towards it, leapt forward, and grabbed the statue's arm and heaved himself up to get a better view - there were almost 100 people in the area and walking in almost all directions, he had lost Gruub...

Kriff! I swear half the time this job isn't worth it... Guess I'll check out a local cantina while I'm here, it'll be a bit till I can track Gruub down... he thought as he blended into the crowd and pushed his way towards one of the cantinas in Cornet.

[Jedi_Shadow]

Sweat running and lungs heaving, Tam ran on, with Mr. Mace cradled in his arms. His was a blind panic, and his legs pumped with a will of their own, taking him anywhere as long as it wasn’t home.

Because home was a vision of hell.

Tam had returned that evening from his hike to find a military landspeeder parked outside the Dawncaller homestead, with its emergency lights swirling and large, bright spotlights trained on several figures in the courtyard of his home. Two he recognized: his mother and father, both on their knees at gunpoint. Mom was bawling hysterically and shouting acid words at their captors. Tam was too far away to tell what she was saying. Dad was silent, stoic and resolute as always, even on his knees.

The other figures in the courtyard were clearly Imperial stormtroopers. Their white armor was unmistakable, especially with the speeder’s blinding headlights shining on them. They shouted at Tam’s parents, and their helmets amplified the command, “Take her down!”

The air rang with a single blaster shot, followed by a raw, mindless scream from Tam’s dad. Tam’s mom was laying on the ground, and she wasn’t moving. One of the white-clad soldiers kicked her lifeless body roughly, and Tam’s father wretched with terror and grief.

The stormtroopers turned to their single target now. “Tell us where the information has gone. Who was the courier?”

Tam had never seen his father like this. The man was a rock, always had been. But now, he looked like a little child who’d been caught raiding the cookie jar. “My brother-in-law, Pax...” Dad choked, “he’s the one you want.”

Tears welled in Tam’s eyes, but he could still see enough to witness the stormtroopers mow down his father. He had shouted then, more out of angry reflex than any sense of prudence, and the murderers of his parents had given chase.

Tam was familiar with the lands around his father’s property, and ran as fast as he could for the hills nearby. There were caves there, and cracks that he could fit in but not the big armored murderers. He clutched Mr. Mace tightly, not wanting to lose the little fuzzball. The little white fabool could tell something was wrong, and he sucked his ears, feet, and winglets in close to his spherical body.

Tam was too terrified to console his pet, and knew he couldn’t stop running until he was deep in the caves. Soon he reached the first of them, and stopping only a moment to spot the landspeeder cresting a faraway hill, he hurried inside.

The caves were damp and musty, and held the memories of childhood games of hide and seek, but this time it was no game. Tam squeezed in tight between a pair of thick columns, and huddled in the darkest, most secluded corner he could find. Mr. Mace shivered in his arms, cooing nervously.

“It’s okay, little guy,” Tam said affectionately, “just keep quiet.” He patted the fabool to help calm it.

Soon, the scuffle of boots and the clatter of armor was heard outside, followed by amplified voices.

“The kid went in here, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“See for yourself. The scanner picked up his tracks.”

“Okay, you and you, head in there. You three cover them.”

“Should I radio the Warren, sir?”

“Not till we’ve got this taken care of.”

The marching grew louder, echoing off the cavern walls and invading Tam’s own sense of calm.

“We think he may have gone in deeper, sir, but the way is blocked!” echoed a voice inside the cave. “It’s a pretty tight fit.”

“Shaped charges!” Warren heard from outside. “We don’t want a cave-in!”

In short order the whole cave vibrated with a deafening explosion. Tam covered his ears, wincing with pain. His ears were ringing for long after, and it was some time before he heard any more from the stormtroopers.

“Great. The heat signature's blasted to hell...”

“Quit crying. It’s not like he could have gone anywhere.”

“How do you know there isn’t a back exit?”

Tam knew, and wished he’d found a cave that did have a back exit.

“Nevermind, I think I saw something. Set for stun.”

The voices were closer now, and Tam could make out the glint of white armor ahead. He could also make out the movement of several large insectoid legs in the dark. He’d hidden himself in a hive of kinrath! They moved closer, brandishing sharp little poison barbed arms and hissing with menace.

Mr. Mace squeaked with newfound terror, burying his bulbous body as deep into Tam’s arms as possible. Tam wished he had a similar place to hide, for the giant bugs would skewer him to pieces before the Imperial soldiers rooted him out. He also wished the giant kinrath would find a new target for their territorial attack, like those armored troops coming closer...

As if in response, the kinrath turn to face the Imperials. Their hisses fade to silence as they clamber to either side of the chamber entrance.

“He’s gotta be in here,” said one of the stormtroopers, stepping into the chamber, “the heat signature is off the cha–AAAHHH!!!”

The stormtrooper fires his rifle reflexively, for three kinrath pierce his armor in three different places. As that soldier drops, the other kinrath surge through the chamber entrance, overwhelming the other man.

Then everything went quiet.

Tam perks up, and comes back out to the mouth of the cave. The kinrath were long gone, but not before having every last one of the stormtroopers. Strange, that random insects would avenge the death of Tam’s parents...

Tam shook his head, trying to shake away the evening’s memories. He wandered into the darkness, not going anywhere in particular, especially home...

[Corr Terek]

"I said I wanted something challenging, blast it," Damon Aligeri said, slamming his fist on the bar for emphasis. He glanced at the barkeep. "Isn't that exactly what I said, Black?"

Black shrugged. "You know I never pay any attention to you when you start yapping."

Damon frowned into his mug of lum. "I can handle a blaster like nobody's business--"

"--and nobody gives you time of day." Black finished. "Damon, you're twenty-one and you look younger. No matter how good you are, you don't have the reputation to get anything more than simple guard duty."

Damon grumbled to himself. He was good, far better than anyone else on this dirtball. It was ironic, really. He'd grown up on Temen 3, a barren colony planet that was probably the most boring place in existence. As soon as he could, he'd used his meager savings to put down a down payment for a barely functional Headhunter.

Since then he'd barely managed to keep himself out of debt by working odd jobs. Ship payments siphoned away almost all the money he earned, and living expenses took care of the rest. All Damon really wanted was a steady sum of credits -- or a large one, it didn't matter which.

His sullen musings were interrupted by a sudden commotion. "What's going on?" he asked Black above the rising clamor.

"Can't you hear the guns, kid?" Black asked sullenly. "Pirates must be attacking the spaceport again. They hit us every six months or so."

"Really..." Damon said thoughtfully. "They must have a big fleet, huh?"

"Not from what we've seen," Black said. "Just a few shuttles and a Corellian Corvette. They land, they take what they want, and they leave."

"And nobody does anything about it?"

"Who do you think lives here? Boba Fett?" Black snorted. "Look, I gotta close up before they get in town, or this place'll get trashed."

"Yeah, you do that." Damon said, mulling over the plan forming in his mind. He stood and tossed a few creds at the barkeep. "Keep the change, Black. I won't be passing through here again."

[ij thompson]

There was silence in the pod as its twelve passengers tried to come to grips with what had just happened. Clutching her mandoviol close, Fiola Shaku felt despair rising within her. She'd boarded the Star Queen with nearly no money, anticipating the big payoff on Mimbos. Bitterly, she wondered how many credits she could now make spending the next thousand years busking for spare change on a twelve-man lifeboat.

Still, she had her life, and had had nothing taken from her. Others among her fellow escapees were not so lucky, Fi reminded herself, hearing an older woman's voice at the other end of the pod sobbing, "Jek... poor, poor Jek..."

"Blasted Starline Tours!" another voice interrupted, this belonging to a hatchet-faced man in his fifties. "It was irresponsible of them to take us through pirate territory! The moment the Star Queen sorts this out and retrieves us, I'm going for their throats!"

"You don't know it was pirates," answered a dazed-looking, middle-aged woman with a nasty gash on her forehead, "you don't even know where we are. It could have been mechanical failure."

"Mechanical failure!" the man exclaimed, "What do you know about mechanical failure?"

"What do you know about pirates?"

"I-"

Without warning, the pod was battered violently by a terrible explosion from behind. Brilliant, fiery light was briefly visible through the porthole, as the tiny pod was forced to spin away even faster, and more crazily. Clearly, the Star Queen was no more.

"Well," Fiola ventured, scanning the other escapees in the dimness, "does anyone know how to find out if this pod is going somewhere in particular, or are we all just gonna be real close neighbours for the rest of our lives?"

[Jedi_Shadow]

New Garang, Dantooine

Tam was and alone. Even though there were people all around him on the crowded streets, none of them were Mom or Dad. Mr. Mace made consoling coos and nuzzled Tam’s ear while perched on his shoulder, but it did no good. The shock of his parents’ brutal murder at the hands of elite Imperial soldiers hadn’t worn off, and the pain of loss probably never would.

The streets gave way to a bustling market area, with booths and peddlers shouting over each other. A band played somewhere in the distance. Tam wandered aimlessly through the crowd, glancing at the wares until he saw the prices. He had no money to buy anything anyway, but maybe something would take his mind off of last night might allow him to actually feel something. Being numb was starting to make Tam go numb.

Gravitating toward the band-- because it was the one thing he could look at without being asked for money-- Tam discovered that it wasn't a live performance but just a holoprojection, half sized, for the mild entertainment of market patrons. “MOONBEAM LEVELS” was projected over the shrunk musicians in stylish letters. A human girl was recorded as standing at the front, making her vocal acrobatics look like they were easy and drawing the viewer in with her eyes. Tam watched as she crooned and swayed, as if the words, notes, and the very emotion traveled through her entire body before floating through the holoprojectors’ speakers.

Tam saw himself in this woman. She was young and lively, but it seemed to Tam that her words had the spirit of loss and melancholy he felt himself. There was no guarantee she had been violently turned into an orphan, or any clues to whatever else she may have experienced in her life, but Tam knew. Somehow he knew they had personal loss in common. Though they had never met, whether through her beautiful songs, or the power of her eyes, or some other unseen force, they had connected.

Even Mr. Mace seemed to have perked up at her image...

[Vash Knives]

Koro Bolera was thankful he had stopped Voth playing sabacc when he did. Koro had stopped the ferbil only a few minutes before the alarms went off. To think the young man had taught the furry creature sabacc just to win a 20, 000 credit bet. Voth had become quite good in the year since Koro had taught him. They managed to get to one of the Star Queen's escape pods, and before the hatch closed, the young Corellian noticed a young woman just managing to get in and sit down before the pod launched. She was about the same age as him, petite, attractive, and for some reason, familiar. The gambler many called The Philosopher felt the shock wave that told him the liner was destroyed and heard the young woman ask if anyone knew how to figure out where the escape pod was going.
"To be quite honest, there is no way to figure out where we are going until we get there. Whether our destination is a ship, space station, planet, asteroid, or star, we can only wonder where. In the mean time, we might as well get to know each other. The name's Koro, and the furry one here *points to the black ferbil in his jacket* is Voth. The two of us play sabacc."

[SingaporeXSling]

The Sour Sling was one of the new cantinas in Cornet, a nice attraction for just about anyone. The exterior was stenciled like a beautiful rainforest of mixed reds and greens, while the inside was almost like a hollowed out tree trunk. The bar was this massive arch in the corner of the cantina, while the middle was completely open to dance on - decorated all with light up leaves.

Jake Nex sat in one of the booths in the back just trying to relax. A hiss or air gave way as he removed the helmet and set it on the seat next to him. It felt odd to be out of it, but how else was he suppose to eat. A scantily clad twi'lek waitress came to the table.

"Is there-" she began until she noticed his appearance. She stumbled a bit but finished the sentence, "Is there anything I can get for you.... Sir..."

Jake loved it when people trembled a little, but this time he just wasn’t in the mood. He passed her a note with his order on it, he hated speaking to people – especially those he didn’t know. She took it a bit confused, looked at it, and then nodded. As she walked off he did the ‘up-down’ just to check the assets. Moments later the waitress had come back with the glowing Green Galaxy he had ordered and attempted a smile. He smiled back and she seemed to relax a bit more. He scanned the room looking for any sign of Gruub.

Nothing…, he thought. He was a bit disappointed with himself, it was the first time he had completely lost a target. Gruub wasn’t worth that many credits, but his pride was at steak now.

As he looked around though, he had to do a double take. Suddenly a sly grin began to appear upon his face. It was an old friend, someone he hadn’t seen in a long time… He got up, stowed his helmet under the arm he was holding his drink with and strode over…

PS - This was my reply for 12/06/07 sorry I was late...

[Corr Terek]

Upon seeing the pirates firsthand Damon decided to abandon all thoughts of playing the spaceport's triumphant hero. He was good, but he wasn't that good. Discretion was the better part of valor, after all.

Staying out of sight, he managed to avoid the pirates as they looted and plundered, until finally he arrived at the landing pad where the pirate shuttles had landed.

There weren't many guards. Repeated raids with little or no resistance had made them careless. Damon grinned to himself. This would be easy.

Then he saw his Headhunter. The pirates had just finished loading it into what appeared to be a modified YU-class freighter. Damon bit back an outraged curse. He'd paid good money for that ship, and these kriffing pirates were going to steal it?

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," he said to himself. Casually he stepped into the bay, drew his blaster, and fired.

The pirates were slow to recover, and it cost them. The Gift was with Damon today more than ever, and he knew exactly where and when to fire each shot.

Damon charged up the ramp into the freighter, taking down three more pirates as they appeared at the top of the ramp. Once inside, he made his way toward the cockpit. He "saw" a man turn the corner ahead of him, and fired his blaster. The pirate turned the corner only to catch a blaster bolt to his gut, and went down.

"Sikes?" The voice came from the cockpit. It was female, and she sounded more than a little worried. "Sikes, are you--?"

Her words ended abruptly as Damon found himself face to face with a young Farghul. Startled, she reached for her blaster, only to collapse as Damon fired a stun blast.

He hated shooting women. But that was the least of his worries right now -- the remaining pirates were coming back. He plopped himself into the pilot's seat and closed the cargo bay hatches, then engaged the repulsorlifts and gunned it toward the bay doors.

A loud metallic clang shuddered through the ship, and Damon reflected that he probably should have retracted the landing gear and boarding ramp. A moment later and it was done, though there was a worrisome rattle to the ship that hadn't been there before.

Clearing the docking bay, he quickly gained altitude clearing atmosphere in a matter of minutes while the pirate craft had yet to take off. Damon was feeling pretty good about his little escapade until a massive impact rocked the ship from stem to stern.

He'd forgotten about the Corvette. He raised the shields, hoping they'd hold long enough for the short jump he was planning. Twice more the ship shuddered under fire, but the shields held.

Then the stars blurred, and Damon could finally relax. After a few minutes the ship reverted to realspace, and Damon noted with satisfaction that no one seemed to be pursuing him.

The Farghul awoke soon after. Damon had already taken away her blaster and so she sat in quiet terror, watching his every move. Finally, she spoke. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I don't know yet," Damon admitted candidly. "I don't like killing women, so you've put me in a bit of a bind. What's your name?"

"Mir'isha," she said, hope dawning in her eyes once she realized Damon probably wouldn't kill her.

"Well, Mir'isha, what do you think I should do with you?"

She hesitated. "I...can't go back. Tarvos Ghull would kill me for not stopping you."

Damon shrugged. "As it so happens, I can't run this ship all by my lonesome -- and here you are without a boss. What say you join my crew?"

The suggestion clearly stunned the Farghul girl. She opened and closed her mouth several times before finally responding. "You'd trust me just like that?" she asked incredulously.

"No," Damon said casually, stretching and walking back toward the cockpit. "I'll sleep with one eye open, and if you try anything, I'll shoot you. Seems fair to me."

Mir'isha thought it over. "I suppose I'll accept your offer...Captain,"

"Good," Damon said, sitting down in the pilot's seat once again. While he didn't necessarily trust the Farghul, by her own admission she didn't have anywhere else to go. Besides, he did need her help.

An automated distress signal abruptly pinged on the comm board. "Mir'isha, get up here," he called the Farghul. She came and seated herself in the copilot's chair.

"It's the distress signal from a twelve-man escape pod, the kind luxury liners use," she reported.

Damon thought it over. "We're not far from them. Let's take a look."

"But," Mir'isha frowned. "What would we do with an escape pod?"

"A luxury liner means rich people and an escape pod means rich people in distress," Damon grinned slyly. "I'm sure we can work something out. Set the course."

Mir'isha grinned as well, her fangs barely showing. "Aye aye, Captain."

[Fingon]

Luis let out a large breath as he summated the peak of the small mountain and watched his misty breath slowly blow away in the wind. Before him was something you’d see in the holovids; a rolling valley, framed by snow frosted mountains, stretching to the horizon, the white sun glittering off of the river flowing lazily down a slope. The air was brisk, the sky clear, and the only sound the wind whispering through some trees behind him.

“Beautiful…”

When Luis had chosen to make a short visit to Boz Pity, it had merely been out of an academic curiosity for the ruins of some “lost race of giants” which speckled the planet, but the planet its self soon persuaded him to extend his visit. He had just spent the last two days hiking through untamed land, and enjoying himself more than he had in a long time.

“I could stand this more often,” he muttered to himself. “No crowds, no work, no bloody pager going off every ten minutes.” He had ripped out the battery pack a few hours after he was dropped off. “Although, I’ll admit that I miss the mattresses and hot coffee in the morning.”

Seating himself on a nearby rock, Luis stretched out his legs and arched his back, looking up into the endless sky. That’s when he started to hear the rumble. It was faint at first, and he thought it was just the wind. But it grew steadily louder, until Luis clamped his hands over his ears as he heard the unmistakable scream of an object reentering the atmosphere. That’s when he saw it; a meteor streaking across the sky, roaring over his head and crashing out of sight behind a hill.

“What the…”

That’s when he saw the distress flair shoot up into the sky, a white ember which lasted a few seconds before it gradually faded. An escape pod.

“Frell! I knew it was too good to last.”

[ij thompson]

"Oh, how cute!" Fiola exclaimed, reaching out to hold the little black ferbil. "You two play sabacc?" she asked in wonder, cradling the little creature. "That's good news - we're probably gonna have a lot of time to play cards on this little journey..."

"That thing shouldn't even be aboard," the hatchet-faced older man interrupted angrily, "it's just using up oxygen"

"Oh, ease up!" Fi rebuked him, holding the animal protectively, "It's a living being, just like any of us. Besides," she went on, cuddling the little creature and cooing in its ear, "you'll be vewy handy when the wations wun out, won't you?"

In a flash the little animal lunged, biting Fiola painfully on the wrist. A second later, and it had leaped back into the jacket of Koro, its master.

"Ouch!" Fi cried out, sucking on the wound, "Kidding! I was kidding! Sheesh... is this an escape pod, or a hearse?"

"Hey!" Interrupted one of the other passengers, peering out the port, "I think there's a ship out there!"

[Darth_Vader2005]

The rodian continued to play long after any rational being would have given up in disgust; it was only when the barkeep reminded the patrons that closing time was 15 minutes away that the game broke up and the rodian began to leave. Tey began to surreptitiously follow him out of the bar and onto the warm still warm street outside. A light, warm rain fell on the city, washing away the grime from the pollution stained buildings and rinsing the streets of the detritus of city life. The alleyway outside the tapcafe was lit only by dim green streetlights, providing harsh shadows in which the dregs of the residential district of the city lurked.

High in the sky speeders occasionally zipped across the sky, silhouetted black against the grey fumes belching from the planet's manufacturing wards. The stars were invisible after 200 years of intensive pollution, the night sky was a matte grey colour, with the rain bearing clouds blending in with sky above.

Far below the speeder trucks transporting materials for the industrial plants Tey stalked his prey. The rodian was a low level Imperial informer, the type CorSec officers used extensively and looked down upon. Once Tey would have done the same, but thanks to some ironic twist of fate this being could be the weak link in the chain tying the convoluted conspiracy together.

Tey's target stumbled ponderously homewards, blissfully unaware of the danger following him. He remained unaware right up until the point when he turned into a deserted alley and received a stun bolt in the back of the head. He pitched forward suddenly and landed face first in a particuarly obstinate pile of garbage the recent rain storms had been unable to shift.

Tey moved swiftly, in the event that someone had been alerted by the flash and sound of the blast, and executed a quick search of the rodian's belongings, taking the informer's knife, data cards and code cylinder as well as his last remaining credits; partly to make the event look like an ordinairy mugging, partly to pay for food and drink.

Tey hoped that the data cards would shed some light on the events back on Correlia, and exactly what was going on in that lab. More importantly Tey hoped he would find something that would clear his name; if not to the Empire then at least to his fellow officers of CorSec.

[Ubiqtorate]

Kark! They must be right behind him. The old man looked over his shoulder cautiously. No one there. That was a relief. How long would that last?

He had to act quickly. No more time to waste. That last call had been too close. He had to get off the planet, and now. He couldn't do it alone, though. No, for his plan to work, he needed help. Fortunately, he had a plan - he just needed an accomplice. But where to find one?

Maybe that boy over there. The forlorn looking one staring glassy-eyed at the pretty wench in the street holo. He had to be about what, thirteen? Fourteen? And that ridiculous-looking furball on his shoulder... perfect! He had his mark.

Kenlan As-Buka, he told himself. Your name is Kenlan As-Buka. The boy wouldn't need to know his real name yet. He probably never would, in fact. He looked pretty distracted. Probably been through a lot. Yes, this was going to work perfectly. "As-Buka" got himself into position, waiting for the distracted boy to move on from the mesmerizing holo.

"Come on, Mr. Mace," the boy said finally. "Let's go. We've got to keep mov..."

As he turned, the boy bumped headlong into As-Buka, sending the old man clattering to the ground. "Oh!" the boy shouted. "Pardon me, sir, I didn't even see you there!"

"Quite all right, quite all right," replied the old man, as he conspicuously gathered up the ornate metal cylinder he had intentionally dropped. "But you should be more careful. Attentiveness is the first step on the path to enlightenment."

As As-Buka had expected, the boy's eyes had shot wide open when he had seen the cylinder - his lightsaber, the most critical part of his disguise. "Are... are you a Jedi, sir?" the boy stammered.

Inwardly, the old man smiled triumphantly. Bait taken. Shooting the boy an icy glare, he responded gruffly, "You must not speak of such things. Now run along home."

The boy's eyes welled up with tears. "I... I have no home, sir," he whined. "Not anymore. They're all... The Empire just..."

"There there, son," replied the old man, drawing a handkerchief from a hidden pocket inside his robes. "No need to cry, nor to grieve. It is the will of the Force."

The boy's glistening eyes brightened. "Then you are a Jedi!" he said.

"I am," confirmed the man softly, with a subtle nod of his head. "But now I must hurry. I have urgent business to attend to on my ship."

"You have a ship?" asked the boy. "Oh, I wish I could go with you. See the stars, learn the ways of the Force."

An easy mark, indeed! thought As-Buka gleefully. This would be even easier than he had expected. Perhaps the Force, if it really did exist, was finally smiling on him. "Perhaps it could be done," the old man suggested. "I have long been in search of an apprentice, and perhaps it was the Force that guided us here. Come, son, perhaps you are the one I seek. But first, you must be tested..."