Chapter 35
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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE:           Fleet Admiral Sher Khal’Saad stood at the foreword section of his command ship’s bridge, arms folded behind his back as he watched the blue whirls of hyperspace in front of him begin to fade away. Starstreaks turned to starlight as the massive hulk of the IMPERIOUS dove back down across the lightspeed barrier, and Khal’Saad turned his cool gaze to the nearest point of light: a bright orange sun less than a dozen AU’s away.

As the other ships of the Imperial task force began to drop out of hyperspace everywhere around him, Sher clenched his black-gloved fist slightly. The shadow of a smaller Imperator-class Star Destroyer passed over the bridge windows and the admiral turned around to look to a nearby control pit. “Hmm.” He gave a noncommittal nod. “It seems that the probe droid’s readings were correct.”

Captain Ferris was standing in the Com-Scan area where Khal’Saad was looking; supervising a team of officers huddled over the display monitors of the control pit. He straightened when he heard Sher’s comment and glanced aside with an affirming nod. “It seems so, milord,” he gave another brief look at a nearby display screen. “Our position is confirmed. We are on the outskirts of the ‘Daktia’ system. The rest of the fleet is reporting successful jumps on all parts.” He cleared his throat and added quietly to himself, “bumpy ride, though.”

The admiral nodded bemusedly. “Such is to be expected from a poorly mapped hyper-route,” he said, returning his attention to the sweeping view of space outside the bridge windows. By now he could see the various flotillas of Star Destroyers and their support ships assembling into neatly ordered groups, far beyond the bow of his command ship. “But once the Empire begins their invasion of this part of the galaxy, we will have perfected the byway.”

Several officers paused at that comment, looking up from their computer controls at Sher. Even Ferris, Khal’Saad’s own aide-de-camp, seemed surprised by the aside. The XO reached aside and grabbed the safety rail to the ladder which lead out of the control pit, pulling himself toward the admiral. “The Emperor has authorized a full-scale assault on the Amazons?”

Sher did not turn to face him, but Ferris could tell that a dark grimace had fallen over Khal’Saad’s face. They clearly are harboring the Rebel remnant, he thought. I can’t imagine why he would not. “No, Captain,” the admiral said wryly, shrugging some of the tension out of his shoulders. “Not yet.”

That ambiguous reply left an uneasy silence among the bridge officers as they reluctantly returned to their tasks. They gave each other unsettled glances, but none of them dared ask exactly what the admiral meant by that—not even Ferris.

Some minutes later, one of the men stood to give a status update. “Sir,” he began, noting with a small bit of relief that some of the tension seemed to leave the room as he spoke. “The fleet commanders have established commlinks.”

Khal’Saad’s eyes followed the trail of a Kuat Lancer frigate as it crossed the path of the IMPERIOUS and floated slowly out of view. “Patch them through.” He turned back around toward the center of the bridge, waiting patiently as a ceiling-mounted holo-projector hummed to life.

It focused its imaging beams at several points on the deck in front of the fleet admiral and a series of crackled, jumbled images appeared before him. They took the form of life-sized holograms of eight Imperial admirals: the commanders of the smaller battle groups within Sher’s task force.

Almost in sync they all clicked their boots together and nodded in the standard Imperial salute. Sher considered them briefly with a nod in return. Even at proper scale they were all noticeably shorter than Khal’Saad, especially both of the female commanders, standing more than a full head below the fleet admiral’s height. Some of these battle group commanders had accompanied Sher during his assault on the Rebel base at Mon Calamari, while others had only recently joined the task force as it entered the distant realm of the Unknown Regions.

“All ships are to move to the far side of the gas giant in quadrant fourteen,” Khal’Saad began swiftly. “Excluding the immobilizers; they are to setup a perimeter around the star system, massing their numbers along all the known hyperspace exit junctions. As before, we will scramble lightspeed-capable fighters with pre-programmed drop points at equal densities between the interdictors. That will make it less likely for any one ship to make it out before we begin the assault.”

Upon receiving a battle plan like this from a superior officer, the standard response of a lesser commander was a simple “yes milord.” Any subordinate bold enough to question the tactical plans of a superior did so at their own peril. The same was especially true for Khal’Saad, who had become used to his strategies being accepted without question. His reputation in crushing the insurgencies of Qual'radii and Rith'aiin Sectors some years ago has afforded him such a luxury.”

All of this made the sound of a dissenting “But sir,” all the more surprising. One of the admirals ventured forward, adjusting the rim of his large round glasses and attempting to hide a small smirk.

Sher recognized him as the man he had spoken with briefly before taking command of the IMPERIOUS—Simon Menta.

“With all due respect, sir,” the lesser admiral questioned, the tone in his voice holding a carefully masked impudence. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent to jump into the middle of their fleet now and simply pin all of their ships with our interdictors?”

The tiger closed his eyes and gave a nod, mildly amused that this man whom he had insulted offhandedly had managed to get himself assigned to a battle group under him. Even from where Khal’Saad stood, he could feel the other admiral’s indignant attitude—the anger stemming from his wounded pride. “Admiral Menta,” Sher spoke after a moment, opening his eyes and allowing only the shadow of a grimace to cross his face. “An amateur’s gambit, of course. I think I’m beginning to understand why you’ve not seen a promotion in the last decade.”

Simon bristled at that, but denied Khal’Saad the satisfaction of an unprofessional outburst. Sher’s insult held within it just enough truth to get under his skin, but he knew retaliating outright would just play into the fleet admiral’s hand.

Khal’Saad didn’t give him the chance to respond, anyway. “As I’m sure you and every first year academy cadet are aware, it’s practically suicide to make a hyperspace jump without precise coordinates—which we currently lack—especially over so short a distance. That level of calculation cannot be executed by a mere probe droid. We will have to obtain that information ourselves, as well as how many Amazon reinforcements are supporting the Rebel fleet.” He paused for emphasis, stepping forward and meeting the other admiral’s eyes. “And as I am sure that you are not stupid enough to advocate assaulting an enemy without first gaining at least a basic estimation of their battle capabilities, I will consider your suggestion to be a mere lapse in judgment—and not a sign of gross incompetence. We are all aware of how the Imperial Navy deals with incompetence . . .”

Menta took a small breath and nodded, leaning back from the imposing image of Khal’Saad standing before him. He had heard about the grisly demise of Grand Moff Jarvis Ywin in the Yag’Dhul Sector, and was not fool enough to argue with Sher any further over an open commlink. It was clear that challenging him directly would be at best ineffective and at worst deadly. “Of course, milord,” he stepped back to join his peers among the battle group commanders and tried to veil his mortification. “I will . . . more diligently consider my suggestions before forwarding them to you.”

“I’m sure.” Khal’Saad spoke dismissively. “Now, as I said, we will hide the bulk of the fleet behind the gas planet. Begin prepping the cloak-enabled strike cruisers PLAGUE and EVISCERATION for limited recon missions to determine the precise location, size and battle readiness of the enemy fleet. We only need to keep them here until we decide how best to obliterate them.”

———————————— 

            Sam Stone abruptly awoke to the shrill siren of the OSSUS’ emergency alarm and tumbled face-first out of his bunk. The pirate hit the deck with a thud and cursed, turning angry eyes toward the speaker nestled in the ceiling. He was about six seconds away from grabbing his blaster rifle and permanently shutting the thing off when the doors to the chamber suddenly slid open.

General Kithain Tiharr was standing there, almost silhouetted against the brighter lights of the adjacent hallway. “Sam—dammit—!“ He exclaimed, stepping into the room. “There you are.”

Stone pushed himself off the floor and got to his feet, “Yeah, here I am. Mild telling me what the hell is going on?”

The general tossed a weary glance out of the nearby space window. “Admiral Ackbar and Empress Vortex have put the fleets on high alert. It looks like our position has been compromised.”

“You mean the Imps know we’re here?”

“Most likely.”

Sam gave a disapproving grunt. “Well why didn’t ya say so?” He grabbed his blaster and turned, scooping what little belongings he had with him into his knapsack. “I knew this was going to be a problem,” he muttered. “Dumb kid . . . I’ve gotta get off this heap before I get myself killed.”

But Kithain stepped back, blocking the path out of the room. "Sam, we could really use a man with your piloting skills in the—"

"No." The pirate stopped packing abruptly and glared at Kithain. "We’ve been over this already. You want to throw your life in the garbage, that's your own choice, but you’re sure as hell not taking me into the incinerator with you." He slung his blaster rifle over his arm and started toward the door.

The general stood his ground a moment. “No chance of changing your mind?”

Sam shook his head. “You’d have better luck getting a Bantha to fly a speeder.”

Tiharr finally nodded, knowing Stone well enough to not push on any further. “Alright,” he stood aside, masking a small sigh. “I know the access codes Ackbar is using to monitor space-traffic. I can get you off the ship and tell you how to get safely back to the Mid Rim, but after that you’ve got to lay low until this all blows over.”

Sam Stone pushed his way through a group of officers marching across the OSSUS’ main landing deck in preparation for a series of launch drills. His ship, the VENGEANCE, was perched on the far end of the bay near one of the smaller magcon fields, suspiciously absent of any guards or watchmen.

Kithain was up on the control deck, conversing with the head traffic controller, trying to explain to her that she could take an early lunch and that he would cover for her until she returned. The woman seemed more than slightly bewildered that the general would even offer something so out of character, but after a few moments of fast-talking he managed to talk her down from her post.

Sam glanced up at the control port and caught a signal from Kithain that everything was still a go. After he was it, the space pirate doubled his pace toward his ship. But as he drew closer to the VENGEANCE, two people stepped out from behind its hull to block his path. Their faces were familiar, but Sam did his best to ignore them, stepping to the side and going around the pair as he paced toward the boarding ladder.

Kytlar D’harn glared daggers at Stone as he walked by. “You know you’ve got a lot of nerve, ya dirty piece of rimkin.”

Stone stiffened at the comment. “Rimkin” was about the worst thing you could call someone from the Outer Rim Territories and still expect to keep your arm attached to your body.

“Kim has something to say to you.” The woman continued. “Don’t tell me a big bad spacer like yourself is scared of a little girl?”

“I ain’t scared of nothin’!” the pirate finally turned, visibly annoyed. “I don’t have time to fool around with some dumb kid.” He looked at Kim, who was standing halfway behind Kytlar. “Look—I’m glad you didn’t get hurt, but just because I saved you doesn’t mean I’m gonna be your buddy, now.”

A brief look of intimidation on the girl’s face gave rise to an expression of shame. She avoided Sam’s eyes and glanced at the deck, stepping out from behind Kytlar and twisting her hands together. “M—Mr. Stone,” she began uncertainly. “I’m—I’m sorry I broke yer ship . . .”

Sam was unmoved by the display. “Yeah, I bet you are,” he said as he took a few more steps toward his ship. But the pirate stopped before grabbing hold of the boarding ladder and glanced back at the pair. “Look, don’t worry about it.”

Kytlar narrowed her eyes at the man before pulling Kim back a few steps and ruffling her hair. “C’mon, Kimbo, everything’s fine. Now we’d better go.”

At first the child didn’t react, her gaze again falling to the deck and remaining there a few moments. When she managed to get back a measure of composure, she pushed aside the older woman’s hand and called after Sam. “No—no, it’s not true.”

Sam instinctively stepped away; I don’t have time for this.

She took another moment and rubbed her nose, trying to hide a small sniffle. After all, she was twelve years old and childish things like crying were supposed to be thoroughly behind her. “No,” she looked up again, bravely meeting and holding the pirate’s gaze. “No, Mr. Stone I did it on purpose.”

Sam was floored. “What?”

Kytlar leaned down, “Kim, what are you talking about?”

“I broke his ship on purpose.”

“You broke my ship on purpose?”

The woman frowned. “Why?”

She opened her mouth to speak, looking first to Kytlar and then to Sam. I didn’t want him to leave, she thought. But she could never admit that to him. Unsure of what to say, and frustrated at her helplessness, that moment of penitence turned to anger and she spat at him in Rodian. “Toska ne linga voe bashkal.”

Kytlar’s eyes widened. “Kim—you watch your mouth!”

She turned her back on the pirate and grumbled. “Never mind that. This Chumani over here is obviously too scared to stay and help. We’re better off without him, anyways.”

Sam had been livid even before Kim let loose with the rude expletives. Now it was all he could do to control his temper and clench a fist. “It’s bad enough that—“ But he stopped himself, instead venting his hostility into a feral growl. “I’m not wasting anymore time with this,” he said after a moment. “I’m done here.”

————————————

Elizabeth Denver emerged from the sonic shower of her quarters with a mess of tangled, frazzled hair. “Auughh,” she mumbled, her hands reaching up to her head. "That's the second time this week." The shower was malfunctioning as it sometimes did, still allowing the counselor to get her daily wash, but leaving her normally well-kept hair resembling something like road kill. "Perdia!" She called, stepping out of the archway to the wash area and looking down the adjacent hall. "Could you get the detangling solution from under my nightstand, please?"

Perdia Detami, who had been sitting on the couch of the common room and gazing out the window, suddenly jumped at being summoned. She was clutching the handle of her lightsaber rather strongly, but dropped the weapon when she was startled. It clattered to the floor and rolled under the sofa and she scrambled down to get after it. “Uhh—detangler?” She called back, reaching underneath the piece of furniture. “Sure—sure, gimme just a second!”

“It should be under the nightstand!” Lizzy called again. “If it’s not there, check next to the bookcase!”

As soon as the girl managed to fish the weapon out from its hiding place she hurried to the bedroom and began hunting for the desired item. It was a few moments until she spied it next to the counselor’s dresser and promptly delivered the item into Elizabeth’s waiting hand.

"Thank you." She grabbed the container and slipped back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Perdia sighed. "You're welcome . . ." she mumbled, fastening her lightsaber onto her belt.

But even behind a closed door, with the sound of the sonic shower running, the counselor could pick out that telltale tone in the young girl’s voice that something was wrong. “Still pouting, eh?”

The girl folded her arms, “I’m not pouting.”

“Sure you are—you’ve been moping for the past day. Are you ready to talk about whatever’s on your mind?”

Perdia glared in the direction of her voice and started back toward the common area. She stopped at the end of the hallway, though, and growled quietly to herself. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hum?" Elizabeth emerged from the room, her hair having been satisfactorily dealt with. “Didn’t tell you what?”

The little girl folded her arms. “That there were going to be Imperials onboard the other night? Don't tell me there weren't any," she added in a sullen tone. "I saw their ship out my window."

Elizabeth paused a moment and set the detangling solution on the lip of the sink counter. "Imperials?” she echoed. “A ship, what ship?"

"I dunno.” Perdia looked at the ground. “It wasn't big, just a shuttle. But that still means they were onboard, and you didn't tell me!" Her ears fell flat against her crimson hair.

Lizzy turned around approached the girl, putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning down slightly to eye level. "I don’t know anything about Imperials, or a ship, or anything like that," her voice was soft and sincere. “But you know, you haven’t been sleeping too well lately. I’ve seen you up in the middle of the night twice now, staring out that window.”

The girl looked away from her. “I think of things sometimes.”

“I know you do, hun.” She ruffled the child’s hair a bit. “And I can’t speak to what it must have been like living out on your own. But if you ever want to move past that you’ve got to stop spending nights dwelling on it.”

Perdia had spent most of her life as a parentless stowaway, but that didn't mean she hadn't mastered the art of teenage sulking. “Hey, I’m not crazy . . .”

Elizabeth frowned. "I didn’t say that,” she shook her head.

"Nobody's honest with me . . ." the girl muttered.

"I am."

The child shuffled her feet. "Well—well Lanna isn't."

Lizzy raised a brow. "Now what are you talking about?"

Perdia sniffed in an injured manner, unclipping the weapon from her belt and offering it to Elizabeth. "She gave me my saber but she kept the power supply."

"Saber?" The woman blinked. "Is that what this thing is?" She had glanced over the report about it, but a long time ago and not too closely. She preferred to avoid technologically-minded things when she could.

The child gave a small nod. "Well . . . yeah . . ."

"Isn’t that a weapon?"

Perdia stared down at her feet guiltily. "Well . . ."

"I thought it was a container or something." She looked surprised. "Of course Lanna wouldn’t give it a power supply. That would be dangerous."

"It’s supposed to be dangerous!" Perdia answered irritably. "How else am I supposed to defend myself when the Sith come back?"

That comment gave Elizabeth pause and she sat down, motioning for Perdia to do the same. “Honey—there's nobody coming for you, ‘Sith’ or otherwise. And even if there were, a starship is about the best place to be if you want to get away from someone."

The girl met the counselor’s gaze again reluctantly. "But . . . but the Imperials were here last night and you didn't even know about them. Nobody ever knows a Sith is coming until they're dead."

Lizzy glanced down and then nodded, knowing that mere words wouldn’t be able to alleviate the child’s fears. "How about this?" She offered. "We'll check the sensor records. Will that make you feel better?"

Perdia’s eyes widened. "You can do that?"

The counselor chuckled, "I am a lieutenant in StarFleet. I have the right security clearances. In fact we could check it from my desk console."

Perdia nodded hesitantly. "Okay . . ."

She took her hand. "Come on."

The girl sighed and followed her over to the desk on the far side of the common room. Lizzy promptly sat down and tapped the console. "Computer, bring up external sensor logs for the last twelve hours. Did any ship come up alongside the FELIX last night?"

The system beeped in acknowledgement and began to process. "Working . . . one moment please—system diagnostic in progress."

That was unusual. "Oh, well it'll be just a second," Lizzy said reassuringly.

The computer beeped again. "Negative. No records of any ship within one-hundred-million kilometers of the USS FELIX in the last twelve hours."

"It's lying," Perdia said immediately, crossing her arms. "I know what I saw, Lizzy."

Elizabeth looked at her patiently. "You haven't been sleeping well . . . maybe it's possible that you were—"

"Were what?"

"—dreaming?"

"If I were dreaming, I'd have had to be asleep . . . and I wasn't sleeping." The girl insisted.

"It's possible you dozed off without knowing it."

Perdia's frown grew mulish. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Alright," the counselor folded her arms as well. "Then what do you suggest now? If the computer is lying, that means someone has been tampering with it. Who would do that?"

The girl lifted her chin and after a moment sighed. "I dunno."

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose slightly. "I should be getting to work or I'll end up late to my shift."

Perdia sighed as well and nodded.

But before the counselor stood, she again looked at the girl. "Don't pout like that," she shook her head and took her hand. "You said that if I checked the computer logs that you would feel better. I don't know what you saw, Perdia. I don’t think you're lying and I don’t think you're crazy—what I think is that you've not been sleeping properly since you got here, and you've been dealing with a lot of emotional stress. That can make you . . . imagine things.”

The girl pursed her lips and looked away.

Elizabeth frowned. “At least consider the possibility?"

After a moment she sighed and relented. "Fine. I'll consider it," she grumbled.

"Now," the counselor spoke softly. "If you don’t believe me, then perhaps you should head down to Main Engineering today and ask Lanna about it. I'm sure she could give you a much more thorough check of the sensor logs than I could." If anything, it would keep Perdia busy for part of the day. "Is that fair?"

"That's fair.”

Lizzy again ruffled her hair and stood, "Good." she nodded.

"I'll see you after work," the girl promised.

The counselor nodded and returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

————————————

            Sam Stone looked over the readings on the control board in front of him and nodded after a moment. He had just finished putting the hyperspace parameters into the ship’s navicomputer and was checking to make sure the astrogation systems were all calibrated correctly. It would take a few minutes for the system to make the right calculations to jump to lightspeed, so Sam decided to sit back and put his feet up, letting his eyes scan the endless field of stars before him.

It wasn’t too long, however, before thoughts of Kim began to wander through his mind. He realized with a mild bit of self-reproach that he honestly hoped the kid would be okay. Come on, Sam, yer getting soft, he thought to himself. The pirate reached down to check a dial on the computer, thinking that perhaps some music would clear his head.

But instead the navicomputer rang out in a soft chime, letting him know he was clear to make his jump. “Eh, the quicker I get out of this system the better.” He grabbed the control lever to the hyperdrive engines and pulled down on it.

The ship leapt forward with a kick of ethereal energy and the stars outside stretched into a million starstreaks. Hyperspace opened up before the tiny ship, washing the cockpit in a soft blue haze and Sam nodded to himself, glad to be on his own again.

But an instant later, the deck bucked suddenly beneath the pirate’s feet and an alarm buzzer went off. Sam looked down to the control deck only to realize that something was wrong with the hyperdrive. The blue realm dropped out from in front of him, giving way again to ebony space and a view of a massive Imperial armada.

Interdictors, Sam barely had time to think before the VENGEANCE was caught in a tractor beam. “Damn damn damn!” Stone frantically worked his hands over the controls, throwing the engines into full reverse.

The tiny ship strained as it pulled against the invisible beams that were pulling it closer and closer to the Imperial fleet. The sound of stress echoed loudly through its thin hull, but it was no use. Despite the struggling and pulling of the tiny ship, its course didn’t change by as much as a meter.

As he looked on helplessly, the VENGEANCE drew closer to the docking area of a massive Imperial command cruiser, larger even than the infamous Super Star Destroyers: the IMPERIOUS, the command ship of Fleet Admiral Sher Khal’Saad.

————————————

             “Admiral Ackbar!”

            Sonchu looked up from one of the rear stations aboard the OSSUS REMEMBERED’s bridge and turned his bubble-eyes toward a female officer standing in one of the bleached white control pits. “Yes, what is it?”

            “Sir, we’ve just received a transmission incoming from . . . a . . . ‘Sam Stone.’”

            Ackbar nodded. “That’s General Tiharr’s mercenary friend—wait, where from?”

            “The signal appears to have originated near the edge of the system.”

            “What?” Sonchu’s eyes bulged a bit. “Who authorized him to leave?”

            The woman checked her readouts and tapped a few commands into the control console. A quizzical expression passed over her face and she tilted her head. “Uhh . . . you did, sir. Or at least that’s what’s in the log.”

            The admiral made his way down to her station and looked at the readout. “I authorized no such launch. Let me hear the transmission.”

            “It’s badly garbled, sir. I’ll do what I can to clean it up.”

            The speakers on the bridge echoed to life and the static-ridden voice of Sam Stone sounded loudly through the chamber, “—Stone—found—pe—l . . . caught—Inter—ion . . . dammit Kit . . . all your faul—“ Interference took over and the transmission cut out.

            “That’s all I could get, sir.”

            Sonchu frowned, this was bad news. The Imperials had arrived earlier than anyone had expected. “Inform the fleets to assume battle ready positions, all weapons run hot and all shields engaged. And get General Tiharr up here—now.”

            The officers immediately set about carrying out Sonchu’s orders and the admiral settled back into his command chair with a look of concentration. It was becoming increasingly obvious to the admiral that the Empire he was struggling against was more resourceful and more organized than that one which his father had battled with.

In the early days of what the Rebellion liked to call the “Galactic Civil War,” the Imperials had not been trained to deal with a guerilla-based insurgency—they were all bloated descendants of the bygone era of the Clone Wars, armed with clumsy super-weapons and massive fleets designed to slug it out toe-to-toe with powerful Separatist forces. In the early days of the Rebellion, espionage and sabotage were the keys to spectacular victories like the destruction of the first DEATH STAR at the Battle of Yavin.

            But now, years after the disastrous Rebel defeat at Endor, the Empire had become a much more efficient animal. In Mon Mothma’s day, the Alliance could afford to build bases on planets just off of normal trade routes like Hoth or Dantooine and escape the notice of the Empire for years at a time. But now, even here, in the heart of the Unknown Regions, far beyond the reaches of the Empire’s influence, they had managed to track him down.

            The admiral slammed a finned fist against the armrest of his chair and cursed. “Dammit.”

            “Sir,” one of the senior officers looked aside to Sonchu. “Based on the origin point of that transmission, we can guesstimate where their gravwells are placed and avoid them. Not to overstep my authority, sir, but we should leave now.”

Young Ackbar looked at the fellow Mon Calamari. With the Empress having all but abandoned their cause and the appearance of an Imperial fleet seemingly imminent, the thought of using the Amazons as a distraction in order to escape appealed to the darker portions of his psyche.

But another officer piped up in response. “We can’t do that,” she raised her arm. “Amazons or no, we still have six-hundred officers on the planet.”

“Acceptable losses if it means the rest of the fleet can survive.” The first officer shot back.

“That’s not your decision to make.” She retorted.

The admiral fell silent and the other officers around the bridge looked up from their stations, some of them nodding, others simply waiting to see what Sonchu would do.

The officer who had suggested they cut and run stepped forward, pleading to his superior. “The Yuufusions do not believe in our cause . . . we never planned for them to fight our war for us.”

But the other woman shook her head. “Sir we can’t just leave our men down there.”

“Empress Vortex has powerful ships.“ The first man reasoned. “We should take this opportunity to flee. Don’t forget that she denied us victory in our battle over the DEATH STAR . . . doomed our allies . . . the fate of the Rebellion could very well depend on what you choose to do . . .”

Chapter 35
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