Chapter One: End of an Era

Chapter One

"End of an Era"

*Aboard the MC-60 Hawkseye, Corporate Sector*

         Tierran sits alone on the bridge of the Hawkseye, quietly contemplating. Everyone else is off partying, and why not? They deserve it. After all of the years of fighting, they’d finally done it. The Battle of Endor would forever stand as one of the greatest days in the history of the galaxy, perhaps even greater than the Battle of Ruusan. In the span of a few hours, the ragtag Alliance had destroyed the massive Death Star and the Super Star Destroyer Executer. Where the Alliance would go from here is anyone’s guess, but with respected Old Republic Senators like Mon Mothma and Princess Leia Organa running things, the future looks brighter than it has ever before.

         And yet, here I sit, on the most exciting day in history, only able to think about what I haven’t accomplished, and wondering if I ever will… Suddenly, Tierran realizes that he isn’t the only one on the bridge.

         “Fel, you should be at the party,” he says as he turns his seat to face her. He lets his gaze linger on her for a moment longer, not surprised to see her there. He’d expected she’d show up here when he didn’t appear at the party. She was attractive, to be sure. Their relationship had changed quite a bit over the years. Felian had been an impressionable young rebel who looked up to Tierran in awe when they’d first met. She was only a year his junior, but he’d already spent two years fighting under Iblis by then. They’d been through a lot together since then, more than most on this ship—other than his XO, Stede Borkhav. Not the impressionable girl anymore; quite the confident young woman.

         She grins and walks over to where he’s sitting. “What, go by myself? C’mon, my Captain, there are people who can monitor the bridge other than you.”

         He shakes his head. “I can’t, Fel. I’ve got too much left to do to celebrate yet. It’s not going to get any easier, either.”

         She sighs. “You’re not going to rest until it’s over then?”

         “They killed my family. Would you?”

         She pauses a moment. “No, I wouldn’t. You know the crew is behind you; what ever they have to do for you, they’ll do.”

         Tierran quirks an eyebrow. “And what about you?”

         Felian looks torn for a moment before answering. “Tier, you’re not the only one who’s suffered. We all have. And look what you’ve accomplished. Don’t you think they would have wanted to see you move forward with your life?” She lowers her voice a bit. “And you know that they’re going to make standing fleets to protect the sectors that are flocking to us even now. You’ll be an admiral by the end of the week.”

         He chuckles. “If I were to accept it.”

         Felian rolls her eyes. “You’re going to accept it. It’s Stede’s turn to play captain.”

         “Oh? So he doesn’t want the Challenger anymore?”

         Felian frowns. “What are you talking about?”

         Tierran blinks. “I would have thought he’d told you by now. A lot of Imperial ships surrendered and they’ll need captains for them. Stede’s going to take the Challenger once all of the logistics are taken care of.” Grinning, “Of course, if I do make admiral, the Hawkseye will need a new captain.”

         “No. Absolutely not.”

         He crosses his arms. “Name me one person better?”

         She frowns. “Would you be keeping the Hawkseye as your flagship?”

         “Well, of course. In a way, at least. This ship is going to be retired, regardless,” he says as he gestures around the bridge. “Just look around, this place has taken too much abuse. The Mark 60s served well when our resources were limited, but in a few months, Mon Calamari is going to launch something special for our fledgling Republic.”

         Felian narrows her eyes. “You already know what’s going to happen, don’t you? Wait, don’t answer. Of course you do. But the answer is still no. It’s too much of a conflict of interest.”

         “Uh huh. Because the current situation isn’t? We’re professionals. Now, tell me why you really don’t want it.”

         She sighs. “I don’t want it to look like I’m just using you to climb the career ladder. That’s not who I am, and I don’t want to be known throughout the fleet for it.”

         Tierran chuckles a bit, “Would it make you feel any better if I told you the High Command not only supports the promotion, but that they would have recommended it themselves?”

         “Well…”

         “Besides,” Tierran continues, making sure to catch her eye, “we both know life’s too short to spend it away from those you care about.”

         Felian laughs, “Okay, okay, I give. Anything to stop you from going into your sappy inspirational mode. You know, Admirals have a lot more paperwork than captains.”

         Tierran feigns being hurt and straightens himself up. “Well, that’s what delegation is for. Why do you think I always got Stede a new pen on his birthday?”

         She smirks. “No wonder he wanted out.”

         At that moment, the doors swish open. A pair of ensigns walk onto the bridge and move towards the two. They stop smartly in front of their captain and snap to attention. “Ensign Rastlin reporting for duty, sir.”

         Felian doesn’t wait for Tierran to protest the sudden relief watch and stands quickly. “Come on, Captain Tercanic. The speech you agreed to give at the party is due in a few minutes.”

         Tierran stands and follows along blithely, not used to being outmaneuvered. Sometimes I think she should have my job.

*Twenty minutes later*

         Tierran waits for the applause to die down before continuing. “Now before I let everyone get back to having fun, everyone should congratulate Commander Borkhav on his new command when they get the chance. I’ve agreed to let him take whoever he wants—but understand we’re not going to reset the friend-or-foe marker for the Challenger.” Tierran grins at the laughter. “Alright, get back to the party. I’m done up here.”

         Raising a hand to acknowledge some more polite applause, Tierran makes his way over to Stede and Felian by the bar. They’re both holding a shot glass with a multicolored liquid inside that looks pretty thick. Tierran notes the pleased expression on Stede’s face and smirks. “Let me guess, you were part of the plot to get me here?”

         Stede chuckles and passes Tierran a shot glass with the same liquid inside. “Of course. Can’t have a toast without you here.”

         Felian grins and lifts her glass. “To a new beginning…”

         “…and the friends we left behind to get here…” Tierran adds.

         Stede nods, “…so let’s do this right.”

         Tierran grins and the three of the clink their glasses together before tilting their shots back, downing them quickly.

         Stede sets his down, looking out over everyone gathered. “Hard to believe we got into this seven years ago.”

         Felian nods. “It’s only been five for me and it feels like an eternity.”

         Tierran scans the crowd, feeling the hope and excitement in the air. An eternity? We gave the Empire a sucker punch. But we’re going to have another eternity to go before this is all over. If it’s ever really over.

         “So, Striker,” Stede says as he notices his friend looking a bit lost in thought again, “you convince Felian to replace me yet?”

         “Huh?” Tierran blinks and puts down the shot glass. “Oh, right. I think you’re the only person who still uses my old call sign.” He grins. “But, yeah, though it took a bit of cajoling on…”

         “It was the only way I could get him to shut up,” Felian breaks in with a smirk, holding another round from the bartender.

         Stede chuckles and takes his drink. “I know it’ll be hard for you to walk onto the bridge without me being there.”

         Tierran laughs as he takes his drink. “You kidding me? Do you know hard it’s been dragging myself to the bridge all these years knowing I had to see your ugly mug all day? She’s a damn sight prettier than you!”

         Stede grins and raises his shot. “Now that I can drink to.”

         “Well, you won’t find me arguing with such impeccable logic,” Felian says after downing hers.

         Stede sets his glass on the bar and stands. “Well, Striker, mind if I steal a dance from Felian? Who knows when we’re all going to be together again.”

         “Sure, go for it,” Tierran says as he leans back against the bar. “Just stop plotting against me.” He grins, ordering an ale from the bartender as his friends walk off.

*The surface of Concord Dawn*

         Sia-Lan reached out and grasped Mils’ forearm and shoulder. “The Alliance once thanked us for what we had done, but now it is I who thank you Mils. I shall forever be in your debt. May the Force be with you.”

         Sia turned and reached out to shake Sharliss’ hand too, but she surprised him with a hug. “Thanks, Sia, and good luck. Hopefully we’ll see each other again under better circumstances; you always make life interesting.” Sharliss turned and started walking up the ramp behind Mils. Once at the top, she turned with a smile. “Don't think I'll forget about our little debt, either.”

         “With interest.” Sia responded with a smile as a tear rolled down his cheek. As the ramp met the Banshee with a hiss, Sia looked at the lower turret. Max was still there, as he had been since they left Corellia. Sia brought up his sabre in an Old Republic salute.

         Sia couldn’t hear over the whine of the engines, but he thought he could make out Max’s words as the transport began to lift off. “Goodbye, old friend.” That was the only thing the two of them had said since Selonia, since Max had looked at Sia and said, “This isn’t right.” He’d been right. Where had they gone wrong? Aside from the obvious. Not twenty months ago he’d been training with his master. Now he was a reformed Dark-Sider.

         Sia often daydreamed about that last moment with his fellow Rebel compatriots. They might have fought for a greater goal, but for them it was about the moment; living to see the next day. That, and enjoying every moment of it! But daydreams weren’t the only thing that Sia was stricken with, though.

“They left you behind to die. They cared about nothing more than their own skin, so they ran when you gave them the chance. That wasn’t a selfless sacrifice; it was the cowardice of your companions.”

         “No, you lie! That wasn’t how…” He shouted as he woke.

         Another nightmare…should he be grateful that they weren’t happening as often any more? He still awoke in a cold sweat regularly, but perhaps he managed to forget about those ones before he was fully conscious.

         Like after all the others, Sia went for a night run. It was the best meditative technique for him after such an episode. He had gone along the route often enough with a lightstick that he no longer needed one. Even after all this time, he was still getting used to living on a planet without a moon; the night was pitch black once he got over the first ridge.

         The daydreams and nightmares came and went, but Sia just kept living. Perhaps one day he could count himself redeemed, and, should he be so lucky, maybe have a little run-in with the old crew.

"She lied to you. The Empire never had a warrant against you. She just used that story to get you to join. She was selfish and saw you as no more than a pawn.”

With a single swing of his sabre, he severed the man in half. It was beginning to catch on…he couldn’t allow that to happen. He had a mission to complete.

         “This isn’t right!” Sia awoke in another cold sweat, later that night.

         It wasn’t right…could he ever truly redeem himself? It had been three, nearly four, years since Sia-Lan had his companions maroon him on Concord Dawn. There wasn’t much to keep him occupied aside from his sabre practice. He kept his Force talents as well practiced as possible, and his master had been teaching him a new sabre style. It was challenging to learn to spar from a holocron, but Sia figured he had plenty of time to perfect the style. The new style took advantage of the emotion he had developed. It focused the emotion into the style, instead of towards the opponent. He knew that such a style was dangerous to any Jedi, especially one who so recently combated the Dark Side within him—but such a change was necessary. To use against Kat, should she manage to discover his whereabouts. Sia figured his past allowed him to understand where the line a Jedi should not cross existed.

         The only thing making his isolation worthwhile was a young farmer girl named Saari, who was no more than eight. She’d stop by each morning with fresh milk and the two would talk until lunch time, sometimes well into the night. She was quite the curious one; it was obvious to her that Sia had spent much time all over the galaxy, whereas she hadn’t been further than a hundred leagues from her farm since birth. She had stopped by one evening after a long day at the market and caught Sia practicing with his lightsabre, but both knew that the secret was safe between them. Sia-Lan would spend a lot of time telling her of the history of the Republic, the many worlds to which he had traveled, and occassionally the Jedi order. However, Sia sensed the Force within her and dared not encourage her of that path—not while the Empire lived. Sia hardly considered himself a Jedi Knight, let alone one worthy of a padawan. Perhaps, if the time came to pass on his holocron, then he would give it to her. He’d heard rumors of a Jedi within the rebellion trained by the few surviving masters of the massacre. Perhaps one day Sia could meet this Jedi and take Saari with him.

         The next morning began like most others in fall, complete with the nightmares. The morning air was chilly, and dew covered the ground for as far as he could see. Saari did not stop by, but that wasn’t unusual. It was probably her turn to travel to the market. It was almost a three hour journey, so she and her two brothers took turns. The only peculiarity of this morning was that Sia had been abruptly awoken by a strong connection with the Force. He had felt a number of strong connections before—the loss of a full ship’s crew, or when one of the great masters of old passed on, or particularly once he crossed to the Dark Side, but this was different. It was as if the Force had come to him. Sia was a bit more cautious during his morning chores, but he really made nothing of it as he tended the garden and checked on his two droids.

         Sia chose to do some late morning exercises, as the temperature had not risen that day like the past few. This involved a light jog to the hills near his home and a series of acrobatic forms. Even though he didn’t expect to ever again see the kind of trouble he used to, it was wise to stay in shape just in case. About lunchtime he finished and began his short trek home. As he was coming up over the last ridge before the valley where he lived, he noticed a ship had landed not far from his home. Not much larger than a Skipray Blastboat, this one had to be custom-made. He didn’t think too much of it, perhaps a lost traveler looking for the star port, or maybe one of the few locals Sia knew. Perhaps they’d managed to purchase or inherit a ship so as to finally leave Concord.

         He’d started walking down the ridge when he saw that neither of these were the case. Just then, two stormtroopers walked from Sia’s storage garage to the ship. Sia jumped behind a large rock formation to his right. He was sure they didn’t see him as they’d been walking away from him to the ship. Who could that be and what do they want? Both answers were obvious. Sia peered around the corner to see who else might be there. A few moments later a medium-built human male walked out of the garage with Sia’s combat training droid in hand. Sia immediately sensed the Force within him. The individual stopped for a moment and looked around, although again facing the other way; it was as if he sensed the Jedi also.

         That didn’t matter at the moment. What did matter was that this man had Sia’s combat training droid—and within it his lightsabre. He figured there must be two more stormtroopers on the ship already, so that made five at least and a pilot. Sia was unarmed. Seeing the ship door begin to close, knowing that now was his only chance, he rose and sprinted down the ridge. Hopefully he could get close without being seen, and then get their attention. Once they reopened the door, he could activate his droid to bring him his lightsabre. All he needed to do was survive through a few seconds of blaster fire.

         Running down the ridge, he guessed about thirty seconds to go to the ship when he saw it. Another stormtrooper on a speeder bike entered the valley from the corner of his eye just as the door began to reopen. Damn, it’s a trap. Sia knew he couldn’t take on a squad of stormtroopers unarmed, especially when they had the advantage, so he changed course towards his garage. He knew that a blaster was now his only chance. Sia leaped into his garage as a barrage of blaster bolts shot over his shoulder. He quickly grabbed his blaster and holocron; both had been hidden well enough, fortunately. Sia figured once they found his lightsabre, then they would return for a more thorough search and find his holocron. That could not be allowed to happen.

         He heard more pointless blaster fire as he hid just inside the entrance to his garage. After twenty to thirty seconds, though, the blaster fire began to die off. Leaping from the garage, he was surprised to see eight dead stormtroopers not far from the ramp of their ship. The human male Sia had seen before had a lightsabre drawn and was deflecting a stream of fire. Despite having a light repeater and his speeder bike for cover, the stormtrooper appeared to be, in a manner of speaking, outgunned. Sia activated his training droid without thought and summoned it to his side. When it arrived, he immediately drew and activated his lightsabre. The snap-hiss ceased the ensuing fight for the time being; it is always obvious when lightsabre has been activated. Both held their weapons ready, but now both individuals were now looking at Sia.

         Sia wasn’t sure who it was he was going to fight, so he shouted to both of them. “What do you want? I’m a peaceful citizen of the Republic.” He let a look of disappointment slip after realizing what he had said, but he held his ground.

         The stormtrooper shook his head as the human responded. “Your Republic is dead, and it is you I want. I come on special request of Moff Waugh and Katrina; an old friend of yours, I believe.” The other Jedi said as he shifted his lightsabre towards Sia. The stormtrooper responded by lowering his repeater.

         “They cannot finish the mission themselves, so they send some more underlings after me?”

         “Believe me, Katrina was most disappointed that she could not…attend…today. I suppose before I kill you that I should at least introduce myself; I am Quinan Veruna, a Jedi of the True Order.”

         “Your kind are merely those without the will to truly become masters of the Force.”

         “You would know, yes?”

         Sia took a deep breath to free himself from emotion and let Quinan advance, as it was he who was the attacker in this fight. He did not wait for the first attack though, and Sia immediately lunged to catch him by surprise. Catching an advantage for a moment, Quinan recovered and was quick to parry his strikes.

         Sia noticed immediately that Quinan was quite proficient at swordplay; he fought like Master Yoda had, using quickness and advantageous position to make up for where he otherwise lacked. In Master Yoda’s case it was size, but for Quinan it was technique, and Sia could tell. More importantly, Quinan was visibly shocked by Sia’s new technique, one that relied less on defense than attack. It was obvious that he had expected the same Sia from four years ago; most likely studying what Kat or Justin knew. With such a shock, Sia knew he momentarily held the advantage while the Dark Jedi struggled to adapt.

         Sia immediately went on the offensive again. Quinan was spending much effort to parry and dodge the blows that Sia was offering. A few times, the Dark Jedi gained the upper hand with an acrobatic move or beneficial position, but there was no doubt he was tiring. Sia, however, was able to keep his composure.

         Seeing Quinan was getting noticeably winded, Sia decided the time for a full out attack was now. As the Dark Jedi leaped back onto a shed nearby, he saw his chance. Sia immediately followed him to disallow the advantage; and followed that by rushing to get him off balance. Quinan had to hop down from the shed to keep from falling off, so Sia leaped off to get behind him. Quinan quickly spun around, but knew it was too late. He deflected Sia’s first swing, but the cross-swing follow-up took off Quinan’s lower sabre arm as he yelped in pain.

         “You can tell Kat that she needn’t send her lessers after me anymore; I will come for her myself!” Sia-Lan spat at the defeated Jedi, who slumped back against the ground. He wasn’t a threat anymore.

         Sia’s attention immediately went to the stormtrooper, who still had his repeater at the ready. He deactivated his sabre, but kept it at the ready.

         “Who are you and what do you want?” Sia shouted to the stormtrooper as he rose from behind the bike, walking closer.

         “I am stormtrooper under the authority of the Emperor to put you under arrest and return you to Coruscant for treasonous activity,” the stormtrooper coldly stated.

         “As you can see, I am unwilling to go peacefully to either Waugh or whatever emperor you serve,” Sia responded.

         “Good! I’ve always wondered how we’d stack up,” the stormtrooper said, biting sarcasm in his voice.

         Sia immediately recognized that voice and the horribly dry humor that went along with it, but from where…

         “Max! Is that you?” he blurted out, immediately putting his sabre at his side, knowing it was.

         “You never were a quick one,” Max smirked as he pulled off his helmet.

         Sia reached out a grasped Max’s forearm and shoulder. “Nice to see you old friend. So, how did you get here? Actually, first, why?” Sia questioned.

         “Well, I was scanning a few military com channels. Heard that the Imperials were sending a squad of stormtroopers out to Concord Down to apprehend “an enemy of the Empire.” Who else could it be but you?”

         “Well, needless to say, I’m glad you made it. That fight might have been hairy alone.”

         “Yeah, I figured you’d need some help and I was only a few parsecs away, so I made the jump. I managed to get a com off to Sharliss before I came down here, so I’m hoping she and Mils are on the way. I guess they are quite the smuggling team now. Helping the Rebellion now and again, too. I’m certain that Talon is on his way, so let’s hope that Mils can beat them here. I would hate to have to kill a battalion of stormtroopers this time,” Max said with a laugh.

         “Well, in either case, let us be hasty and get out of here. There are a couple more squads of stormtroopers based out of the starport a few hours away—who knows if they were ordered to come. And if they’ve got nothing better to do, who knows if they might just be coming for a good show,” Sia said as he turned towards his garage. “I’ve got a land cruiser in here. Let’s hope it works!”

         Sia entered the garage with Max right on his heels. Sia reached down and pushed the start button with no more response than a cough from the cruiser.

         “Well, looks like it doesn’t. I’ll see if I can manage a quick fix while you collect your stuff,” Max ordered.

         Sia considered making something of the tone, but knew he had neither the time nor the patience right now.

         He cared about only three things in his current home: his lightsabre, his holocron, and a note for Saari. He had already gotten the first two during the fight, a good thing since he only had time for a quick note. He wasn’t completely honest in his note for the sake of Saari’s age. He told her that he was required to leave the planet on very short notice. He said that he did not know when he would return, but he would let her know when he did—and that she shouldn’t be coming by until he did.

         He considered leaving the note in his house but didn’t want any Imperials to get it, so he left it at the place he normally trained. He had taken Saari there a few times, and she had found him there on more than one occasion when he was out training as she stopped by his house.

         “You managed to get that thing fixed yet?” Sia shouted as he walked out of the house.

         “The power converters are completely corroded over. I think I can get it rigged up, but I’ll need a few more minutes.”

         “I need to deliver something. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

         With that, Sia took off in a jog back into the hills. He left the note on top of a large rock in the middle of his normal training area. He turned around and headed back to his garage.

         By the time Sia returned, Max had fixed the cruiser and was waiting for him. Figuring there was no point in wasting a good set of droids, he grabbed both of his and jumped in the speeder, blaster in hand and sabre at his side.

         Max wasted no time and took off. “My ship had some…landing problems, so we’ll just have to wait for Mils and Sharliss to show up.”

         “You never were good at the flying,” Sia said with a laugh as he took the last look at his home for the past few years. “And Max, it’s nice to see you again; it’s been too long.”

         “You’ll get no complaints from me. Merc work just hasn’t been the same without you guys…and gal,” Max responded with a rare laugh. It was good to be back together.

*Aboard the Wreckless, Outer Rim*

         Sharliss Tal’Vissa leaned back, kicking her feet up. She was in her turret; Mils had the ship, which shuddered as it lifted off. Life was good.

         Smuggling was an easy job, if you knew what to look for. It was just a matter of supply and demand—and a hefty surcharge if the cargo was illegal. Most of the ones they ran were, out here on the Rim. Imperial inspections were few and far between anymore, and if you were willing to jettison the occasional load and take the loss, there really wasn’t much danger involved.

         Silence. Normally by this point she would have thrown on some music or a holo-vid, something to pass the time until they reached the jump point, but for some reason today seemed different. Her mind wandered.

She froze as she saw the sheer size of the armada there just to meet them. The Imperial Star Destroyer loomed like a creature of nightmare, swarms of TIE Fighters already swooping down on their Banshee-class heavy transport. Three more lurked with it, and an Interdictor.

Mils had the few safety locks left on the engines disengaged, but even that reckless speed wasn’t enough for their transport to outrun all of the fighters. She prayed that they were out of tractor beam range.

"Talon,” she muttered, barely hearing the voices over the comm. Her hands tightened on the turret controls as the shooting started.

         Despite herself, Sharliss grinned. That’s must’ve been where they’d wrecked the Banshee. Those were the days, outgunned, on the run, and out of luck. Barely a handful of credits and a blaster to your name. Never knowing where the Rebellion would send you next. Just looking for any way to be a pain to the Empire and live to tell it. Has it really been almost four years?

         They’d drifted separate ways after things got too hot. Sia, they’d marooned, and Max…well, she never really knew what was going on with him. The reunion of sorts they’d all had on Corellia had been unsettling. Tell the truth, she kind of missed it at the moment. Being one step ahead of death or capture had its advantages—but the most important part of gambling was knowing when to quit. They had.

         Oh, sure, she’d stuck with the Rebellion for a while, even if things were too dangerous to go out in the field herself. She’d even tried to run a team herself, a way of being close to the action without the danger. But it wasn’t the same.

         So she’d moved out to the Rim with Mils. The Wreckless was just another smuggler ship, looking to make easy creds where they could. Oh, she’d kept her options open, and they’d run the occasional easy job for the Rebellion. Nothing too dangerous. It’d gotten almost boring, though, kind of routine. Maybe they should take the Banshee out of the dock again. That thing was a dream to fly, armed to the teeth, really one-of-a-kind—all reasons why they’d stashed it in the first place. Being conspicuous and being a smuggler went together about as well…

         As a Jedi and a strike team. That was one thing about Sia, he made life interesting. Being one of the last Jedi, someone that the entire Empire seemed dedicated to eliminating, yes, that had made things exciting now and then. And then, and then, and then, and then… It had been quite a rush, though. Memories tended to dull the fear and danger involved.

         Ah, well, all that was done and gone. She and Mils had a good thing going—her general paranoia—thank you, Kyle—was usually enough to sniff out a trap, and his miraculous flying abilities in everything except landing were usually enough to get them out of it. Usually. Still, it was fun to romanticize the old days. Maybe someday.

         Shrugging, she reached to activate a holo-vid, but stopped when she saw the light indicating a new message.

         “Shar, you’ll never guess who we got a message from,” Mils shouted from the cockpit of their Nova Courier.

         A few moments later Sharliss walked into the cockpit. “Not Talon is it?” she said with a laugh. “Who? We got another job already? We haven’t even finished this one.”

         “No, this time it’s Max Reams,” Mils responded in complete seriousness.

         “Well, I can’t imagine he wants to meet for a three-colored drink. What’s wrong?” Sharliss said as she sat down to map their location on the hyperspace chart.

         “He seems to think the Imperials have tracked down Sia’s location and that they’re converging on Concord Dawn. Talon will probably be there, knowing him.”

         Concord Dawn …? She let out a small groan and rested her head in a hand.

         Careful what you wish for, Shar, you just might get it.

         Four years! What could have gone wrong after all that time? No, no, no point worrying about it too much. Yet.

         “Mils, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

         “Probably.”

         Sharliss didn’t waste any time trying to calculate the route herself. She ripped the map off the nav console and put it in from the Mils. “Well, we’ll have to make a double jump unless you can cut it close to that black hole in D154.”

         “That isn’t even close, but let’s calculate it twice before we put it in the computer. Actually, it’s been a while since I’ve really had a good challenge.”

         Sharliss wasn’t one for unnecessary risk on a mission, but this was a case she knew the risk was necessary. She stood up and hurried out of the cockpit. “I’ll make sure the hyperdrive is good to go,” she said over her shoulder, noticeable strain in her voice.

         “The calculations look good,” Mils said as she walked back into the cockpit.

         “Then let’s go.”

         With that, Mils engaged the hyperdrive and they started their jump.

***

Continued in:

Chapter Two: Fight or Flight  (13+) A running battle as they try to escape a trap. #1367597 by Renfucious