Chapter Two: Behind the Mask

 

 

       Deep in an asteroid field three parsecs from Naboo, a predator loomed in the black of space.  The craft hung over a shipyard that was built directly into the side of a large asteroid.  The vessel was an assault frigate; one of the most formidable warships in the galaxy, her name was the Frigid Claw.  Surrounding her was a collection of stations ranging from industrial complexes, to mining facilities.  Aboard the assault frigate, her captain observed the commotion caused by their last mission.  He went by the title of fleet captain, a rank more common for the leader of pirates and mercenaries.  His name was Valrico.  He was the leader of the Crynak Coalition, a band of pirates and outlaws that specialized in the theft of space merchandise.  A man of cunning abilities, he presented a worthy opponent to all who stood in his path.  Valrico was a survivor, as all of the people in his fleet were.  The captain was human, originating from a mining colony in the desolate Outer Rim Territories.  As a boy he had always been the toughest of any of his friends and enemies.  Anyone of the captain’s friends that were caught stealing from him, he killed.  He liked a good profit, and was not afraid to kill to get it.  Nothing got in the way of the prize, not even family.  In a struggle to overthrow the mining colonies’ leader, Valrico had sacrificed his older brothers’ life to attain victory.  After seizing control of the colony, the captain moved on to far grander devises.  His sights were set on purchasing a ship to travel across space.  As a result, Valrico left home as a young man and formed a gang which later he called the Crynak Coalition.  Little was known as to the origins of the word Crynak, but rumor had it that it was the name of an ancient pirate who had once terrorized the galaxy during the dawn of interstellar travel.  According to legend, Crynak had sold countless people into slavery, and looted hundreds of vessels.  The flagship of the fleet was the Frigid Claw, which carried two squadrons of the dual cannoned head hunter fighters and one of the slow but heavily armed and armored escort shuttles.  Valrico had acquired the frigate while making a raid on an Imperial shipyard, somewhere near the Kuat Drive Yard facilities.  Although assault frigates were strictly Rebel craft, the Imperials had somehow seized control of one.  It had probably happened during an attack on a Rebel convoy.  This was unusual, as assault frigates were nearly impossible to capture.  They bristled with so many laser batteries that the only option to defeat it was to destroy it, or be destroyed.  Under the fleet captain’s command, she had suffered no defeats.  The second most important ship in the fleet was the dreadnaught End Horizon, which was commanded by Captain Ugora.  His ship carried a compliment of two squadrons of planetary fighters, and one prey bird fighter squadron.  Ugora was in every sense of the word Valrico’s right hand.  He was a Quarren man from the watery world of Mon Calamari, which his people shared with the sad eyed fish men known as the Calamari.  Ugora had proven to be a natural leader, and a good military commander.  As a space war strategist, Ugora exceeded all others in the fleet, even the vaunted Valrico.  His commander looked to him to plan raids on convoys, and establish their static defense system around their base of operations.  Right now, Captain Ugora was personally overseeing the return home from their latest success.

          Captain Ugora sat quietly in his command chair, fiddling with his mouth tendrils.  His radiant, hard blue eyes watched the viewing screen intently.  As the Quarren awaited contact from the fleet captain, he began scrolling over his data screen.  Looking up from a brief moment, Ugora ordered the helmsman to steer towards the command ship, and position the End Horizon above the port bow of her.  There the two warships would wait for the rest of the fleet to return home.  The fleet had just finished attacking a civilian convoy that was headed for a station near the planet Sullust.  The Coalition had captured several large containers of laser charges and warheads.  More importantly, they had seized control of a carrack cruiser and several freighters.  Although the carrack cruiser was a small starship, it was outfitted with substantial firepower, and that made it ideal for fighter escort.  To sweeten this victory, the Crynak fleet had sustained no losses in capturing it.  The Coalition’s show of force in destroying the defenders’ main escort, a strike cruiser, was more than enough to convince the convoy to surrender.  Civilians usually gave up with little to no resistance.  Just to make sure they got the point, Ugora had ordered the destruction of a suprosa transport making a run for it.  The first wave of fighters the civilian fleet had sent against them was destroyed by one of his squadrons of head hunters.  As usual, his pilots were more than a match for their adversary.  His thoughts were interrupted, and the Quarren turned his pale orange head back to the main viewer.  A blinding flash of white and the fleet began to emerge into normal space.

          Two marauder-class corvettes, the Scimitar and the Razor’s Edge dropped out of hyper-space, just ahead of the rest of the team.  They immediately set a course for the shipyard.  One took the lead, the Scimitar, which was commanded by Captain Palziz, who was perhaps the most blood thirsty man in the Coalition.  The young human captain was known throughout the fleet as being a man who took no prisoners.  Originally Palziz had joined the Rebel Alliance as a pilot, but had been driven out due to his violent tendencies.  During his stay in the Alliance, he had racked up numerous kills as a fighter pilot, but had lost countless comrades due to his carelessness.  What was most important in his mind was achieving the kill, not protecting fellow wing mates.  Many times had he defied direct orders to return home, instead, chasing down any remaining enemy fighters to destroy them.  On occasion he had even rammed ejected pilots to see their blood streak fleetingly across the nose and canopy of his fighter.  This was the total opposite of what the Alliance wanted its image to be.  As a result, the commanding officer of the ship he was stationed aboard had personally recommended his removal to the high command.  His wings were stripped from him, and he was summarily discharged.  Palziz looked forward to the day he could take his revenge on the Alliance that he felt had betrayed him. 

          Palziz, an outcast, and failure as an Alliance officer, had found a home here in the Crynak Coalition, as had so many others.  He had been made a captain, and a leader.  Aboard his corvette he felt all powerful.  Captain Palziz was an outstanding military commander, and had proven his greatness in battle many times.  The captain was also the commander of the Coalition’s deep space strike team.  This gave him almost unlimited power to do as he pleased with booty taken outside Crynak-held space.  Much of the time he would sell the crews of ships taken in a siege into slavery. 

          The Scimitar’s sister ship glided up beside her.  The Razor’s Edge was captained by Captain Juvran, a middle-aged human male from Dorrel.  He had a rough, brown beard beginning to show streaks of grey.  His skin was tough and leathery, highlighting the many years he had spent under harsh conditions during his many space ventures.  Because of the sympathy towards mercenaries and bounty hunters in the Freeworlds System, Captain Juvran had grown up learning the tricks of the trade as a bounty hunter.  He had joined the Crynak Coalition over a decade ago.  Juvran was a patient commander, unlike Palziz, preferring to bide his time before he acted.  He was perhaps the most cautious captain in the fleet, and was looked on as being too hesitant to be considered one of the greatest the Crynak had to offer.  Juvran was greatly in the shadow of Palziz.  He often did not agree with the younger captain, and there were many times that Captain Palziz cast his input aside.  The older man had no choice; going against Palziz could end his command, and his life.          

          Almost simultaneously, the rest of the fleet dropped out of hyper space behind the two corvettes.  Coming into view were the Xiytiar transport Condor, two modular conveyers, the Y-wing squadron Star Hunter, the new carrack cruiser in tow, and the lancer frigate Ferocity.  Two Corellian gun ships, the Lightning and the Thunder dropped out behind them, followed by the newly acquired assortment of bulk freighters and suprosa transports.  Aboard the Ferocity, Captain Galvour sat in his command chair.  Galvour was a thirty-three year old human, originating from Corellia.  Most of his life had been spent as a pirate and spice trader.  As a boy, he often found himself looking up at the stars, longing for the chance to travel them.  His wish had come true when the war between the Empire and the Alliance escalated.  The galaxy plunged into turmoil, and the cloak of war spread over every system.  Soon it reached Corellia, as the fight for dominance over that sector began.  Galvour had achieved the infamous blood stripes nine years prior to the insurrection led by Thrackan Sal-Solo, for flying a TIE ugly, which was typically a combination of an X-wing fuselage with TIE fighter solar panels, against a wing of Imperial TIE fighters to defend a civilian convoy that had fallen under attack by an Imperial Star Destroyer.  The Star Destroyer had suspected that the convoy was smuggling andris and weapons for an underground movement against the Galactic Empire.  During the engagement Captain Galvour had scored eight kills, which greatly aided the heavy response from the local Corellian forces.  In the end, the Imperial Star Destroyer had been driven off, plagued with grave losses and significant damage, and the convoy was saved.  The government of Corellia honored him with the first level blood stripes, which were displayed as a broken red line down the leggings his pants.  This was the second highest honor one could achieve from Corellia.  Now, the captain was continuing his life-long tradition of defying the law.  Right now, there was not much to fear, what with the Galactic Empire crippled, and the New Republic balancing on the edge of a knife blade.  Galvour was willing to stick with this job.  Working with the Coalition had paid well; his family was living safe on Corellia, and his passport was still active to travel around the galaxy at his leisure. 

          One thing the captain abhorred was overly bureaucratic governments or factions.  He despised both the New Republic and the Galactic Empire.  If Captain Galvour had his way, both would be long dead and the galaxy would be free for the taking.  The captain had once joined forces under the Corellian crime lord, Thrackan Sal-Solo, in an attempt to ‘free’ the sector from the clutches of the New Republic.  When the insurrection to take over the Corellian Sector had failed, Galvour had fled to the Crynak Coalition to offer his services as a military commander.  Here Valrico had quickly taken advantage of Galvour’s exemplary skills, and given him command of one of their finest warships. 

          Galvour hailed Captain Ugora to report that the fleet had made it home safely.  Once his message was completed, he transmitted orders to the Condor for the modular conveyers to begin their cargo drop.  The freighters lined up near the storage facility located near the industrial complex.  The Condor slowly soared towards the complex.  After it had positioned itself above the main hanger, the freighter hovered a moment.  Magnetic clamps latched on to the docking hatch of the freighter.  After making the proper alignments for the cargo drop, the Condor docked with the bay door, and sealed the air lock.  Inside the ship, dozens of workers began lifting the cargo onto hover pads and pushing them into the station.  As for the modular conveyers’ cargo, they simply released the diamond shaped bins they had collected from the raid just outside the hanger.  Three small one-manned cargo lifters emerged from the complex and began retrieving the bins, taking them back inside the hanger for stockpiling.  The larger warships docked at the shipyards for refueling and maintenance, while the carrack cruiser docked at a repair yard, as it was to be prepped for use by the Coalition. 

          Inside the main bridge of the Frigid Claw, crew members from various races were bustling about, busying themselves with reports and issuing orders to one another.  It was a regular light show on the bridge.  Different colors of lights flashed and shone everywhere, while the over head lighting provided a white coloration to everything.  The bridge itself was shaped like a rectangular box, slightly rounded off where the main viewer was.  The fleet captain was perched in a chair in the center of it all, while his helmsman and communications officers sat in front of him.  The communications station was situated forward on the port (left) with the steering forward and on the starboard (right).  Directly to either side of Valrico were the tactical and weapons stations.  Each had two crew members at the controls.  Above and behind him a pair of Aqualish security guards stood armed with heavy blasters, guarding the entry way from the turbo lift.  Their two large and shiny black eyes aimed straight forward, unblinking.  The captain drummed his fingers absent mindedly on his arm rest, staring aimlessly into his viewing screen.  A familiar voice broke his ennui.

          “Long range sscannerss are picking up an insstallation that appearsz to be military.  It is being generated from Naboo, ssir,” the communications officer reported.

          The captain snapped his eyes towards the officer.  Valrico’s eyes moved before his head did.  As always, he bored holes into whoever he looked at.  Tightly, he gripped the sides of his command chair, and leaned forward. 

          “What?  A military installation nearby?  Get me a long-range summary commander,” Valrico ordered in his hard, icy voice.  He was somewhat alarmed that there was an authority in a nearby system.

          “Aye ssir, patching it through,” Commander Shiva responded.  His clawed hands glided effortlessly over the key pad, as he transferred the information to the captain.  Commander Shiva was Barabel, a serpent race covered in black hard scales like finger nail.  Their entire body was virtually a suit of armor.  Jointed plates covered their bodies from their forehead to back.  They had large black eyes situated as a human’s would be, and long, wide mouths filled with razor sharp teeth.  Barabels were known as a very aggressive race that loved a good fight.  They hunted their nearby neighbors the Verpine, and then sold their body parts amongst themselves as a delicacy on the black market.  Anachronistically however, Barabels were a very moral race by nature and so they had a deep respect and admiration for the Jedi Knights.  They were also fiercely loyal to their mates and parents.  Shiva was a male and former pack-leader from his clan, but set out on his own in search of knowledge, wealth, and conquest.  He met the Crynak Coalition on Borgo Prime through a covert contact, and decided it would be profitable to his interests to join them.  Over time he advanced in rank, owing to his tremendous flying skills and unfaltering bravery.  He had become so loyal to the Crynak; Shiva would give his life to save any of his comrades.  For Valrico, this was like striking a gold mine.  It was difficult to find such an officer, and expect him to be a murderous pirate.  There were so many gambles to take in choosing his fleet commanders…so many gambles…  Again the Barabel spoke.

          “I detect a Golan Three platform, one Calamari Cruiszer, as well as a winged Calamari Cruiszer, and one Nebulan B frigate.  We will have to move in for a closserrr look to detect fightersz and ssmaller shipss ssir,” Shiva hissed in his snake-like voice.  Though the Frigid Claw had state of the art scanning equipment aboard, getting a solid read as far as a parsec away was nearly impossible.  “Those are only their space-bassed objectss.  There isss no telling what liess on the surface of the planet, ssirrr.”  His huge, black glassy eyes rotated towards the captain.

          Valrico stroked the short beard on his chin, as in thinking.  He squinted his eyes, and stretched his neck.  Shiva was growing impatient, and began to open and close the inner eyelids he had rapidly.  He never liked to take too long to make a decision. 

          “Well…that sounds like an Alliance post.  It’s definitely a battle group.”  He paused a moment to think, and his eyes expressed a worried mind, if only for a brief moment.  “They wouldn’t be in any direct link to the last convoy we attacked, would they?”  Valrico asked.

          “I am not ssure.  We would need to ascertain the destination of the convoy.  We could check the main computer core aboard the carrack cruiser sir.  Perhpass this could clue us in.”

           Valrico nodded his head, and pointed a finger at the communications display. 

          “Yes, yes, go ahead and do that.  I’d like to know if we’ve stumbled upon a nest of gundarks.”  Commander Shiva complied with the order.  Valrico continued, as soon as Shiva had sent the order to the intelligence team aboard the Predator’s Loft.  “Meanwhile, what do you propose we do about it?”  The captain eyed the commander with an intent gaze that spoke for itself. 

          “It is bad for businesss, having political authorities near us whilssst we try to raid civilian and military convoyss.”  Shiva paused for a moment.  Then, as if he had thought up an idea, he jerked his eyes back towards the captain.  “We could invesstigate the area, and see what they might have that would be of use to uss,” Shiva hissed in a voice that sounded like a predator that had just spotted prey.

           Captain Valrico grinned coldly.  He was quite used to his first officer’s habit of choosing an aggressive action.  Still, he liked having a variety of officers from which to consider advice.  Such a diversity in his command staff allowed for him to make more rounded decisions.  Even still, Valrico would not tolerate being disagreed with.  Anyone that directly violated his authority was as good as dead.  His bridge crews were those that had not crossed that line.  “Ha-ha.  Very well, arrange a meeting with Bajib.  Have him prepare a reconnaissance mission.  I want to know everything there is to know about them,” Fleet Captain Valrico ordered.  “Understood commander?”

          “Aye aye sssir,” Shiva replied.  He smiled, showing his many razor sharp teeth.  The Barabel began typing commands into his key pad, and marking off his data sheet.  Commander Shiva moved at blinding speed over his keys, and had issued the order in a matter of seconds.  Long range recon missions were dangerous, especially when venturing deep into enemy territory.  They would need an elite pilot for this sort of job.  He had chosen one of his best for the mission.  The pilot was a Sellonian woman by the name of Lieutenant Commander Kriisha.  Kriisha was perhaps the best transport pilot in the fleet, besides himself.  Sellonians were a tall, sentient humanoid covered in a short fur coat, with a feline-like appearance.  They had large, sharp retractable claws and long elegant tails could that be used as effective bashing tools in fights.  A blow from the tail of a Sellonian could break the back of even a Wookie.  The normal person was no match for the stealth and efficiency of a mature Sellonian in close combat.  Sellonians had eyes that could see well at night, due to their habit of living in tunnels most of the time.  Their senses of hearing and smelling were just as acute.  Sharp teeth also drew attention to themselves.  Lieutenant Commander Kriisha was a fertile female.  Being fertile was a mark of importance in Sellonian society, because only a few females in a clan were fertile.  It also meant her only task was to produce offspring and stay at home.  Only sterile females were allowed out of doors, as they were the ones that handled the affairs and businesses of the clan.  She had managed to break away from this boring life, joining the Crynak Coalition as a means of escape.  After she had arrived at the asteroid station, Predator’s Loft, she was incorporated into their fighter squadrons.  She was not content to stay at home and sit quietly.  She was a woman of action and combat, not housework and cooking.  Kriisha had already had fair training with flying transport ships, due to the fact she had stolen a transport ship from a Bothan merchant on Correllia.  She spent the next few years hypering here and there to find where she really belonged.  At last she met Commander Shiva on Borgo Prime where she followed him back to his fleet to begin more advanced flight training, and be a part of something.  Kriisha believed this was her calling in life. 

          The Sellonian showed exemplary flight skills during flight and combat training.  This was a strange trait for a Sellonian, as few of the earth-dwelling Sellonians have ever flown.  Shiva had taken it upon himself to train her, and she had proven to be one of the best pilots they had.  Kriisha had risen quickly in rank due to her dogged persistence and combat capabilities.  Kriisha was the squadron leader of the Delta-class escort shuttle squadron, Sevron, and third in command of the Frigid Claw.  Shiva needed to contact her immediately.

          Kriisha sat meditating in her private quarters aboard the Frigid Claw.  She spent most of her time inside her quarters, because it reminded her of home.  The lights in her room were always dim, making it difficult for anyone entering to see well.  This was fine with her.  Her eyes could see more than well enough in the low light, and it discouraged visitors.  It also simulated the dark of the underground tunnels she used to dwell in.  Around her were many keepsakes she had brought with her from her home planet of Sellonia.  Among the items were her medals of combat, a necklace she had made in her childhood, and a hologram of her two cubs, which were now grown. 

          Her favorite belonging was her sword Verith, which had been given to her by her mother when she was young.  It had been given to her as a symbol of her womanhood and independence.  The interior of the room was a dusky brown color, resembling the tunnels she once walked as a child.  A brass dish that burned with incense lay in front of her as she sat with her eyes close.  It was a place for her to meditate, and sleep.  Here there were no interruptions to her solitary ways…save one.  The intercom rang, and her eyes snapped open.  It was a menacing sight; her eyes shone like two yellow flames in the twilight of her room.  Kriisha rose to her full height of nearly two and a half meters.  She walked over to the intercom, and answered her call. 

          “What is it?” Kriisha responded in an irritated tone.  She did not like being bothered during her meditation hours.

          “Kriisha, thiss iss Shiva, I have an assignment for you,” he said in a raspy voice.  “I want you to meet with the captain and I in the briefing room.  Thiss will be a mission of great importance I feel.”

          “I will be there in moments, what is nature of meeting?” she responded in her broken Basic.

          “You are going to get to fly.  No more talk over the intercom.  Please come to the briefing room for further instructionss.” Shiva replied abruptly.  Holding the intercom button down still, the Sellonian sighed in frustration.  She looked at the ground, and back up.

          “Very well,” Kriisha responded.  As Kriisha turned the intercom off, she rubbed her paws against her forehead.  She yawned widely, revealing her sharp fangs, and then began to groom herself.  Sellonians exhibited the feline trait of obsessive cleanliness and were constantly concerned about their appearance.  She walked over to her dresser, and selected a folded grey jumpsuit, bearing the rank of a lieutenant commander of the Crynak Coalition.  It had light yellow piping running the length of the arms from the shoulders to the wrists and from the waste line to the bottom of the leggings.  Kriisha pulled the jumpsuit over her body, and pulled the chrome zipper up, leaving it slightly open at the breast.  Next she slipped on her custom-made brown leather boots.  The lieutenant commander brushed her fur back one last time, opened the door, and sprinted off at great speed through the passage ways of the ship.  When Kriisha arrived at the briefing room, she was greeted by Captain Valrico, Commander Shiva, and Lieutenant Bajib.  Bajib was a Bothan male, and the science officer onboard the Frigid Claw.  Lieutenant Bajib coordinated deep space exploration, reconnaissance flights, and planet entry missions.  Valrico motioned for Kriisha to have a seat.  She folded her tail beside her, and took her seat next to Bajib.  Commander Shiva sat in his chair beside Captain Valrico, motionless.

          “Good evening Commander Kriisha,” the Bothan man said in a courteous manner.  He had the typical, heavy-accented tongue that a Bothan used to communicate in Basic, accenting a’s and r’s with a rolling voice.  Kriisha acknowledged him with a smile and a nod.  It was often times difficult for one to determine whether a Sellonian was smiling or baring its fangs, but given the circumstances, Bajib took it as a smile.  He continued on.  “Our long range scanners have received information that shows three Mon Calamari Cruisers, a Golan platform, and several other military targets in high orbit around the planet of Naboo.  Your job will be to find out who they are, and if they have a planetary base.  We want to know if they are an immediate threat to us, and if we can gain anything from them.  I have assembled a mission plan for your trip to Naboo.  In talking with the captain here, we have decided that you shall fly on your own, with no escort.  We do not want to alert these perpetrators of chaos of our presence.  You must blend in.” He finished his speech with a vibrating noise in his throat, somewhat like a cross between a purr and a low growl.

          Kriisha shifted nervously in her chair.  She did not like being sent onto a foreign and enemy planet alone.  Further more, she did not understand why they would go looking for trouble such as this.  Attacking a military faction was usually suicide.  There had to be a reason other than what Bajib had stated for this…illogical movement.  Lieutenant Bajib brought up a blue-tinted holographic display, and pointed towards it. 

          “After you emerge from hyper space, you will most likely have to pass inspection from the local spaceports.  To cope with this, we have modified your ship’s log to appear as though you are a charter pilot.  Land at the capitol of the planet, and gather whatever information you need to obtain the location of the planet base.  Then pay a short visit to the base, and take images of it.  After that, return home as quickly as you can.  Do not engage the enemy on your own.  This is a covert gathering mission only, not an assault mission.  Are there any questions?” Lieutenant Bajib asked.

          Kriisha thought a moment.  This seemed to her as an unnecessary risk to take.  It was also uncharacteristic of the captain to fix his eyes upon military targets.  Something seemed wrong to her.  What was it?

          “One not simply walks into territories of enemy.  Dangerous is this task you present to me.  Those warships could make short work of us larger vessels, and what if we discover that is merely portion of their fleet? What if they discover us? It takes time, and persistence to accomplish this,” Kriisha said in a wary voice.

          “That is why I chose you Kriisha.  You Sellonians are stubborn as they come, and more stealthy than most any other race.  Just apply these traits here.  It is my judgment that we must gather information on this group, in the interests of the Coalition.  We could profit greatly from this, Kriisha.  There can be no mistakes made,” Captain Valrico said in his hard, icy voice.  He was leaving no room for argument.  Commander Shiva turned to look at Kriisha.  Both of them could sense something out of place here.  Kriisha jerked her head towards the shadows in the room and perked her ears.  She thought she had heard the breathing of someone.  Just as quickly, Valrico continued to speak.

          “That is all Lieutenant Commander Kriisha.  You have your orders, dismissed.  Commander Shiva, Lieutenant Bajib, you are free to go,” Captain Valrico said.  Each officer responded dutifully, and walked single file out of the room.  The fleet captain watched them go with intent eyes.  When the doors had locked behind them, a man appeared slowly out of the shadows.  He was a young, handsome man, but something in his eyes made him look wicked.  The triangular plates on his shoulders indicated he was a captain.  His name was Captain Palziz.  Valrico leaned back into his chair and rotated it to face him.         

          “So it’s under way, Cale.” Valrico said.  The young man squinted his eyes and smiled.

          “Very good.  If Kriisha collects information that says this is my old division, then we could attack,” Cale Palziz said harshly.  Captain Valrico shook his head.

          “You always have a way of simplifying things.  Kriisha was right you know.  This is going to be dangerous.  We can’t afford to lose her, and we certainly cannot afford to have our home here discovered.  Police authorities all over the quadrant would like to know where we are.  If they find out our location, we would have to pack up and leave.  Do you know what the gravity of that is? Losing our asteroid base would cripple our fleet.  We would have no place to repair and refuel after battle, so place to store our spoils.” Valrico stroked his mustache, and stared at Cale.

          “Nevertheless, we could greatly profit from this, if it’s them,’’ Cale said.      

          “Only for you.  What about my fleet? What about our business we have going for us here? I am still in command here.”

          “Oh come on, Valrico.  Someone’s bound to find us sooner or later.  I would hate to have it be them.  You know damn well we can’t afford them being near us.” Palziz sounded desperate for a moment.  Valrico raised his eyebrow, and sighed.  Only Cale was allowed to talk in such manner towards Valrico. 

          “Well, I suppose you’re right.  You know, you’re tone grows stronger with me every day, boy.  Lose the act.  Nevertheless, this could be…fun.” Valrico was not sure he had quite convinced himself yet.  Captain Palziz was not exactly a stable vizier to have.

          “Indeed it will be, my good captain.  It is them, I can feel it.  I feel his foul presence from here.  When we find out it’s them, we’ll destroy ‘em,” the young man said in a voice that sounded all too eager to kill.  Valrico smiled and chuckled quietly.  He watched as Palziz walked over to the portal.  The young captain stared out of the window and into space.  His ship, the Scimitar, hovered over the mining facility on one of the larger asteroids.  Palziz breathed deeply and smiled.  One could sense his pride glowing about him.

          “You understand this complicates things,” Valrico said.  “If it is them, we are facing a little more than the typical civilian convoy.  Are you so sure our fleet can overcome theirs?”

          “It won’t be easy; I never said it would be.” Cale said, spreading his hands as he walked back over to the table.  “However, I know how they think, how they act.  I was one of them, remember? They’re all too predictable.  Our fighter pilots are superior to theirs.  We have more and swifter capitol ships.  Just employ the hit and run tactics.  They don’t stand a chance,” he said confidently.  The smirk on his face was one of arrogance.

          Valrico sighed and said, “Well let’s hope you’re right.  I don’t want this all to be for nothing.  There’s more at stake here than your pride.  I would hate to risk the fleet in one futile attempt to demolish a military fleet.  It’s not as simple as just attacking and looting.”

          Cale turned and walked away slowly from the captain.  As he walked out of the room, he smiled to the captain.  “We’ll get them.” The door shut behind him, leaving Fleet Captain Valrico alone in his chair.

                                               

                                                           

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          Commander Shiva walked down a corridor on his way to the main hanger.  He wanted to bid his final farewells to Lieutenant Commander Kriisha before she set off on the mission.  Although he was supremely confident in his choice for this mission, it was Kriisha’s first time to be entrusted with this kind of operation.  Another officer went by him and they saluted one another.  Shiva checked his chronometer, making sure he would get there in time.  There were two more minutes until launch time.  Nervousness was tickling the scales on his back.  After another minute’s walk, he reached a steel bulkhead being guarded by an Aqualish man armed with a blaster rifle.  Shiva handed the guard a security access card.  The guard slid the card through a laser scanner, checking the photo identification and clearance of Shiva.  The commander was growing anxious from having to stand still.  After completing his routine, the guard handed the card back to Shiva, and opened the bulk head doors.  Shiva walked into the hanger, where he could see the Sellonian loading canisters and boxes into cargo hold of her assault shuttle.  Kriisha’s tail was twitching back and forth, showing her agitation.  Her ears swiveled towards the commander, as she heard his footsteps.  It was clear Kriisha knew it was him the moment his boots clacked on the hard metal floors.  That was just another trait the Sellonians possessed.  They could recognize the pace, beat, and sound of anyone’s footsteps, which helped them to identify enemies that much faster.  She turned to face him, blinking her eyes slowly.  He nodded and walked towards her.  Shiva was about the only person in the fleet that could read the Sellonian facial expressions, so he knew very well that the casual blinking she displayed was a good thing.  Shiva came to a standstill in front of Kriisha, and extended his clawed hand.  She shook it in return, before going back to her loading.

          “Packing your final thingss aboard your sship?” Commander Shiva said in his serpent like voice.  He looked down at her bags and canisters piled around the boarding ramp.

          “Yes, I am.  The comms scrambler is packed aboard.  I also have food, money, my rifle, and my claw sharpener.  What more I need?” she asked humorously.  Shiva hissed a laugh.

          “Planning on tearing someone to piecess?” he asked with a grin.  His closed and opened the inner eyelids he had slowly.  The two understood each other very well.  Both were of a species bred for the hunt, so shared similar traits in regards to their predatory aspects. 

          “I do not plan on making kill, but I plan to be ready.  Is good health to keep claws clean.  Besides, not wanting to be unprepared,” Kriisha replied.

          “Ah,” he paused a moment.  Shiva reached up and ran his claws gently down the tough scales on his cheek.  He was still uncomfortable with the lack of certainty in the mission.  “Just remember to be exsstra careful, remain on coursse, and be sssure not to allow your intentionss to go noticed.”  He reached into the shirt pocket of his uniform.  “Here, take this.” Shiva hand her a data disk.  “It contains jump coordinatess, instructionss, and a brief summary to life on Naboo.  Stay away from the capitol’s palace, and don’t go near any police stationss,” the commander rasped.  “There can be no mistakesss.”

          Kriisha flipped her flight helmet up into her hands.  It was specially designed for her.  There were two hollow crests on the helmet so her ears would not get crunched, and it had guards that extended beside her jaws.  The visor came down over her nose, and had a projection that formed over her muzzle.  The helmet had a painted silhouette of a Sellonian male baring his fangs over the ear guards, and a red sevron spider logo on the forehead of the helmet.  Kriisha strapped her helmet on, and checked to be sure the microphone worked.

          “I not plan to make mistakes.  Failure is not my style.  I must be going now.  Farewells commander.” With that she nodded at him, and turned to board her ship, Sevron One.  Shiva backed away from the launch area, retreating behind the nearest blast guard.  Kriisha hissed an order at a mechanic to clear the deck.  The man scrambled to remove any components lying about, and then ran into the nearest safety room before the Sellonian pilot blasted off into space.  Kriisha was known by every mechanic in the fleet for powering her ship up to unsafe velocities inside the hanger.  They did not want to get in her way when she flew out. 

          Kriisha climbed up the ramp of her shuttle, and sealed the gang plank.  She clattered down the main shaft the led to the helm area.  As Kriisha sat down in her pilot’s chair, she began the pre-flight checks.  With that quick routine over, Kriisha began initiating startup of all the ship systems.  A yellow light blinking overhead indicated the safety clamps were still attached to her landing gears.  Kriisha flipped a switch beside the light, and the clamps released with a metallic clunk. 

          One last final request for takeoff; she fired up her engines, and roared into space.  Her ship broke the force field around the hanger opening as if water, and then soared away from the frigate.  Around her the jagged asteroids, white stars, and blackness of space flowed into view.  Kriisha transmitted her security clearance to the master control aboard the main station.  She changed her course, coming to a bearing of thirty-degree horizontal away from her mother ship.  Two large Supa class fighters from Blade Squadron departed from dreadnaught End Horizon, and flew towards the escort shuttle.  Supa fighters were most commonly used by Black Sun, the most feared underground criminals in the galaxy.  They had only been around a couple decades or so, having replaced the Z-95 Headhunter as the chief fighter for the Black Sun.  However, some could be seen in certain outlaw bands.  Either the Crynak had scored these off Black Sun, which would be asking for a beating, or they had had some dealings in the recent past with them.  The cockpit of this craft was mounted on the starboard side of the craft, with two long triangular spikes coming back from the main disc like hull.  Supa fighters, despite their peculiar design, were worthy craft in a dogfight.  Armed with dual laser cannons, a lone ion cannon, and a payload of torpedoes or missiles, they offered a big punch against the opposing craft.  Though not being as maneuverable as the Rebel A-wing or the Imperial TIE Interceptor, it was heavily armored.  The two fighters flew up beside her and matched her speed.  Lieutenant Ledrev, a Quarren man from Mon Calamari, flew Blade One.  He was the squadron leader of Blade Squadron, and one of the best pilots in the Coalition.  A human man named Syras flew Blade Two.  Lieutenant Syras was the second in command of Blade Squadron, originating on the planet of Sorrel.  Because of the crime on that planet, it was not at all uncommon for his kind to end up in fleets such as the Crynak.  Their quiet flight was interrupted by the irritated voice of Lieutenant Commander Kriisha.

          “Why do you fly with me?” Kriisha hissed over the radio.  “I was under impression I was to fly alone.”

          “We are merely to escort you to the hyper point, m’am,” Lieutenant Ledrev responded in a watery voice.  “After that, you are on your own.”

          “Very much appreciated.  I am sure to encounter much difficulty in time that it takes for me to get from here to hyper point,” the Sellonian woman said sarcastically.  Syras cocked his eyebrow and looked at Ledrev through his wind shield.  He shook his head, and blinked his eyes.  Women, he thought to himself.  Syras released the strap on his helmet and took it off for a moment.  The human ran his hand through his wavy brown hair.  He and Ledrev had spent almost four years now flying together, achieving numerous kills against both military and civilian targets.  The two were known for being a deadly duo.  There was never a time when one of the two of them was not watching the other’s back.  If you fell asleep while locked on to one of these two, you could be sure his wing mate would be there to make you pay.  In his five years of flying as a Crynak pilot, he could not recall a time when Kriisha had not been short with him.  The two fighter pilots chattered over the radio to each other.  Ledrev was making jokes about their last mission.

          “Those puny civilian pilots started fleeing the scene.  Obviously they’d heard of the Blade Duo.  They had reason to, as I proved by emptying a round of missiles on them.” Syras responded with a laugh, trying to best the Quarren man’s gloating.

          “May I kindly remind you, it was I who bombed the hell outa the bridge on that carrack cruiser.  A pretty little light show it made when I set her off.  Blowing away a few IRDs isn’t my idea of fun.” He beamed a sarcastic smile to the Quarren.  Ledrev returned the joust.

“Indeed, it is a good show of talent, or lack thereof, to hit something the size of an asteroid.” Syras laughingly responded.

          “Coming from the guy who damn near rammed into one of those bulk freighters in the middle of a lock-on...I suppose it’s good to check out the hull cleanliness of a ship during a combat engagement though, if you can call it that.  You still have the paint on your nose?” The Quarren let out a long, deep watery laugh.  The three continued to fly in formation to the hyper point.  Kriisha checked her readings one last time, and then signaled to them that they could return back to their mother ship.  There radio chatter had not stopped.

          “Being sorry, boys to interrupt your chatter…but I’m believing real work must be done now,” the lieutenant commander said sardonically.  “See you next week.”

          “Smooth sailings Sevron One, you’re on your own,” Lieutenant Syras said, not at all in a serious tone.  He changed his targeting screen to target their home ship.  Ledrev did likewise as he plotted a course back.  The two fighters peeled off in opposite directions, and raced each other back home.  Sevron One blasted into hyperspace. 

                                                                                                                                               

                                                                

                                                 *        *                 *

      

        The swirling blue and white of hyper space flowed by Kriisha’s escort shuttle.  She sat in the pilot’s chair, observing the beautiful blend of colors.  A light flared on the navigational computer.  She looked down to see what it was.  It was an indication letting her know she would be arriving inside the Naboo sector in one hour.  It would not be long until she would begin her operation.  Kriisha got up from her chair, and walked towards her quarters.  The Sellonian began to assemble things so as she would be ready for action the moment she set foot on Naboo.  To start things, she made sure her rifle was loaded, and fully charged.  She pulled the bolt back, and lined up the sites with a coffee mug nearby.  The laser crosshairs were calibrated to her liking, so she released the bolt, powered the rifle down and put the trigger on safety lock.  After that, she armed herself with a pair of throwing knifes, sliding them into the inside pocket like sheaths over her breasts.  The pair of knifes would be a quick way to defend herself without the noise of a rifle or pistol.  Kriisha put her utility belt on next.  Looking down at her waist, she fastened her golden buckle bearing a feline skull.  On the belt, she had a medipack, energy bars, and credits, spare cartridges for her rifle, a brace of thermal detonators, a customized “Death Hammer” blaster pistol, an image recorder, and a pouch containing electronic lock picks to open secure doors.  After zipping her vest up, Kriisha moved on to pack a small case with a data pad and macro binoculars.  She would travel lightly otherwise.  For the next half hour Kriisha made sure everything was in order, being certain that all the necessary items for her mission were ready.  When that was done, she walked back to the helm to check the time.  Twenty-five minutes until the final run to Naboo.  There was still a little time for leisure.  Kriisha walked to the galley to grab a bite to eat.  She thought a moment as to what she would eat, and decided it would be best to have something light.  Bread and vitamin enriched water would suffice.  Arriving at the small room designated as a mess hall, she opened the food locker and removed a loaf of hard crusted bread.  Kriisha tore the bread in half with her sharp claws, and poured some water into a dish.  Due to the shape of a Sellonian’s mouth, it was easier to lap water from a dish rather than try to drink from a glass.  Kriisha took her meal to a table and ate quietly.  When she was all done she washed the dishes quickly and bounded back to the cockpit, realizing the entry must be near.  Her wrist alarm beeped, indicating that in 3 minutes Sevron One would be dropping out of hyper space.  She quickly looked around to insure that the galley was shipshape, proceeded to the cockpit, strapped herself in and began to flip switches and pull levers, preparing for the drop.  When that was completed, she eased back into her chair.  It was now twenty-four seconds until the drop.  Flexing her fingers, she gripped the joystick, allowing the feel of power to flow through her paws.  The fur bristled slightly on the back of her neck.  Now, she thought to herself.  Kriisha was ready to push a button if the navcom did not bring the shuttle out of hyper space at the programmed time.  Looking ahead, Kriisha could see the planet of Naboo.  It hung in space like a glowing ball.  As her eyes scanned around the planet, her attention was caught by the sight of the Mon Calamari warships she had been told about.  Behind them the Golan defense platform sat in high orbit around the planet, right where her computer said it would be.  Resting in its dry dock clamps were a Nebulan B-class frigate, and a Correllian Corvette, better known as the “blockade runner”.  She would have to get in close to ‘id’ them.  Kriisha set a course for the warships.  She would make a quick flyby to ID their manifest with her computer-slicer and land on the planet’s surface.  The radio’s notification lamp lit up.  She was being hailed. 

         “Attention onboard the escort shuttle unknown 22-7, this is the Naboo system patrol craft Vega.  You are headed towards a restricted area.  Change your course twenty-one degrees port horizontal.  Please state you ship’s manifest, and your business on Naboo,” said a man in a deep harsh voice.

         “This is Kriisha of the Yahan, captain of the shuttle Sevron.  I am here on matter personal business.  I am to meet some colleagues here,” replied Kriisha as she strained to speak perfect Basic.  The Sellonian waited anxiously for the man’s response.  There was no response for nearly a minute.  It was obvious she was being scanned.  Her computer alarm went off as they did so. 

        “Very well Sevron, you are clear to land in the capitol.  We are transmitting the location of your landing pad.  Welcome to Naboo,” said the man.

       “Thank you Vega,” Kriisha said.  She brought up the beacon on her navigational computer and followed it towards her landing pad.  Kriisha pulled her throttle back to seventy-five percent power, and began the atmospheric descent.  The first layer she went through whipped at Sevron One’s hull.  Flames began to form at the wingtips of her shuttle, and the hull began to warm as she plunged deeper.  The ship jolted slightly as it slammed into the cloud barrier.  White gusts of clouds screamed by the windshield, howling.  In less than a few seconds the planet surface could be seen.  Kriisha could see waterfalls and rivers, green grassy hills, and the peaceful city that sat amidst it all.  So quiet, so tranquil.  The radio beeped again, and she acknowledged the message.

        “This is Naboo port control.  Maintain your elevation of seven thousand meters and transmit your clearance,” a human-like voice said.  Kriisha slowed to atmospheric cruising speed and acknowledged.  The voice came up again.

        “Sevron you are clear to land at pad T-13.  Welcome to Naboo’s capitol.” Kriisha began the final descent towards the landing pad.  Her ship roared into port.  Kriisha maneuvered her shuttle directly over the pad and hovered a moment, before she descended slowly.  She flipped a switch as her ship’s side wings folded up.  The landing gear came out of the hull’s belly, and touched down gently.  Kriisha let out a sigh, and powered down the ship’s engines.  Kriisha then placed the holovid that gave readouts of the city in her pocket.  After logging the details of her successful landing, she lowered the ramp and walked down from Sevron One.  Kriisha yawned and flexed her stringy arms.  The sudden burst of light from the opening hatch hurt her light sensitive eyes.  The Sellonian recovered quickly enough, and when her eyes refocused, she did not like what she saw.  A young cheerful man was waiting outside the landing pad dressed in what appeared to be an official’s uniform.  He waived at her in friendly fashion.  Kriisha kept a wary eye on him, as he approached her.  The man smiled and began to speak.

          “Greetings, and welcome to the planet of Naboo.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to see you registration papers.” The official was still smiling.  Kriisha did not like him.  Somehow she wished they were in a dark alley, as she pulled her papers out of her vest and handed them to the human.  He seemed to be satisfied with what he saw.  The immigrations official stamped them and handed them back to her.  “Business or pleasure?”            

          “Yes,” Kriisha replied bluntly.  The man just stared at Kriisha’s face with a look of confusion.  Kriisha noticed he was staring at her, and unknowingly widened her eyes and cocked her neck into a hunting posture.  The fur bristled on her neck, and her fangs suddenly started to bear.  The man turned and walked away as fast as he could.  Kriisha calmed once again, and resumed her previous state or sullenness.  She needed to keep her feline traits better masked if she was going to accomplish this mission unnoticed.  Kriisha exited the hanger and walked out onto the street.  As her eyes adjusted to the even brighter light, the beauty of the palace unfolded before her.  It was breathtaking.  Waterfalls flowed between great marble buildings of peach and green and cream.  Exotic peko-peko birds were flying over the rooftops, with their long purple tails dangling behind them.  Great columns rose to the ceilings.  Atop them were placed flowers sculpted out of marble.  Below, the people of Naboo’s capitol went about their daily business.  There were many shops, stands, and streets lined with goods of all kinds.  She took another step forward to look around.  Something crashed into her from behind, nearly toppling her.  Her tail saved her balance, and she looked around to see what it was.  A Gungan man that was carrying a crate had tripped over himself and fallen into her.  The fur bristled on her neck.  Seeing it was merely an accident, she looked at the man with a sardonic expression.  He quickly gathered his things, and stood up.

        “Me’sa very sorry, m’am.  I was not meaning to run into you’sa with this box.  Are you ok?” he asked with a deeper Gungan accent than many of his kind.

        “I could have done without your accident,” Kriisha replied grimly.  Her eyes studied him intently.  To her, he looked almost edible, but she was not sure of the cleanliness of this strange creature.

        “Uhh, yes, very sorry.” He hesitated a moment in his own embarrassment.  “My name is Derg Wendar, what’s yours?”

        “Kriisha, I have no last name,” she replied.

        “I not seeing you’sa kind around here before, where are you’sa from?” Derg queried warily.  He was not accustomed to meeting a mammal taller than he was.  Being a Gungan, he towered over any human on Naboo.  He had never been off his home world before, so Kriisha was an exotic being to him.

        “I am from Sellonia, in the Correllian system.  I am a Sellonian, of the Yahan clan.  You have no hear of us before?” Kriisha asked.  His Basic is worse than mine, she mused.

       The man blushed, and said, “No, I am not knowing much about space and planets.  Me’sa never had been away from home.  Apologies for my ignorance.”

        “So you know much of this planet? I mean people, culture, and cities?”

        “Oh yes, I knowing all kinds of things bout’n Naboo.  Me’sa been all over the planet,’’ he said with a hint of pride.  “This is being your first trip to Naboo?” Derg inquired.  The Sellonian saw this as her chance.  Maybe he know where Sarpedon is, she thought to herself.

        “Yes it is.  I am here looking for friends-‘’

        “I can be you’sa friend,” Derg interjected with glee.  Kriisha chuckled once before continuing.  She could not help but find him amusing.  Between his dark, spotted skin and peculiar head tails, he made for quite a jest.

        “No, you do not understand.  I am here looking for some people.  The location of them unknown to me.  I would like very much if you could help me,” Kriisha said cautiously.  Derg smiled widely, and motioned with his arms.

        “I would be happy to be helping you’sa.  Who you’sa looking for?”

        “I am looking for number of friends.  They are on military base, called ‘Sarpedon’.  Have you heard of them?” Kriisha asked.  Derg paused a moment, and rubbed his rubbery brow.

        “Hmm, Sarpedon...  Ah!” he exclaimed.  “I am thinking me knowing of them.  They’sa being bombad pilots?”

        “Yes, and they own ships in space.” Kriisha responded, intrigued with her immediate success. 

        “I not knowing of space boats, but me’sa seen with my own eyes, this place you seek.  Heh, they no match for Gungan army, we’sa warriors.  Why you’sa looking for them?” Derg asked.  His stalked eyes swiveled this way and that, sizing up this strange creature that called herself Kriisha. 

        “I just want to see them…again,” she replied.  Kriisha hoped that would not sound awkward.  The Gungan did not seem to suspect anything, as was emphasized by his broad smile.  Derg explained that he would be back in half an hour, after he delivered his crate, and that she could wait for him in the bar down the street.  After giving directions to the bar, the Gungan ran off to his errand.  The Sellonian gave a sigh of relief.  Talking with such a ‘primitive’ life form was exhausting for her. 

       Moreover this Derg did not seem to be able to take anything seriously.  She wondered if he would ever make it back.  Kriisha walked further down the street, passing by many kiosks, where she came to the bar Derg had described.  It appeared to be an upper-class bar for rich business men and their martinis.  Not all the sort of place Kriisha would have chosen to visit.  Watching overbearing little cubs drink watered-down soda was not her idea of a good time.  She walked in and took a seat on a padded bar stool.  The bartender walked over to her and slapped his hands down on the bar.  Kriisha jumped at the sound and snapped her head up to him, ears perked.  He looked at her strangely, wondering that the problem was. 

        “So eh, what’ll it be? Some Devaronian tea to relax you a bit?” the man asked.  He was human, although his eyes were of deep purple.  Usually that indicated someone was a mix of human and something else.  The man was middle-aged, and he had a mustache on his upper lip.  Grey hair that hung down over his ears.  Other than his unique eyes, he looked like a typical human to Kriisha’s predatory eyes.

         “No thank you.  I have Grendan’s ale,” she replied with an embarrassed look on her face.  The man was right, she needed to relax.  She had to be calm around these people, if she wanted to blend in.  This was somewhat difficult, being she was half a meter taller than most these people, covered with fur, and had fangs as long as the knives they used for eating.

        “Well you don’t have one yet, aheheh-‘’ he stopped short as Kriisha glared at him.  It was a glare that said she was not in the mood for jokes.  “Oh,” he said as he turned away to get Kriisha her drink.  The man looked over his shoulder once to study this strange customer.  He had a mind to throw her out, but he was not sure if that would be wise to do.  The bartender had long since noted her claws.  He handed her the drink slowly and went about his business at the other end of the bar.  The Sellonian drank deeply and sighed, allowing the tension to slip away.  She looked around the old fashioned bar.  There were many old signs and photos hanging about, and a game fish of some sort mounted over the entry.  Despite her initial reaction, the bar was a pleasant place after all.  It was not quite the type of establishment Kriisha was used to, but it was peaceful enough.  Just about the time she had finished her beer, Derg stumbled through the door, waving at her.  Kriisha tossed the bartender a few credits and walked out.  The man nodded at her, and raised his hand in salute.

        “Always happy to see a smiling face,” he said.  He sighed and shrugged his shoulders as Kriisha and Derg walked out the door.  Kriisha reached to her vest pocket, to break off a piece of her food bar.  A haughty businessman sipping his ale outside started to laugh at the two, and he set his mug down as he did so.

        “Now there’s an odd couple! A cat and a frog,” he exclaimed loudly.  He was obviously drunk.  The man next to him started to laugh as well.  Derg blushed and started to walk away.  Kriisha put her paw on Derg’s shoulder to stop him, and turned to the two men.  She was sure to rise to her full height, and puff her chest out.  Looking down on the two men, she said, “Your joke is over.  I believe you owe us apology.” Derg stood with widened eyes.

        “Well, you go on believing that little girl,” the first man said, as he took another sip of ale.  He let another loud laugh go, as his face flushed with self satisfaction.  His partner made a derogatory comment in regards to Kriisha’s physique.  Kriisha paused a moment.  She grabbed the drink from the man and dropped it on the ground.  The glass shattered.  Both men stood up quickly, and one of them tried to grab Kriisha by her collar.  She lifted the man off the ground and threw him into the other one.  They toppled a chair and knocked over a table.  The one, still conscious man, got up and ran away, leaving his counterpart senseless and covered in beer.  Derg stood wide eyed in amazement, realizing the impressive strength of this newcomer.  The bartender had come out to see what was the matter.  He looked at the remaining man, and then at the Sellonian.  Kriisha stood calmly over the toppled chairs.  After adjusting the collar of her vest, she tossed the bartender a dozen more credits.  She walked away slowly, and confidently.  Derg looked around, and laughed nervously.  He ran after his Sellonian friend.

        The bartender ran his fingers through his hair, and sighed.  “I need a vacation.  These damn kids make all kinds of hell these days,” he said as he shook his head.  The man walked back into his bar. 

        Derg led Kriisha a few blocks down the street, to a small shop.  The sign over the entrance read: “Deep Sea Treasures”.  He led her in, parting the beaded curtain for her courteously.  There were seashells, crystals, teeth from aquatic predators, and many other strange fruits from the depths of Naboo’s swamps.  Derg picked up a data pad from a table.  He turned it on, and brought up the menu on it. 

        “Here we’sa go, this be a map of Naboo.”  He scrolled down the page until he came to a spot which read Sarpedon.  “This is the place.  Last time me’sa checked, there was a base.” Derg proudly handed the pad to Kriisha.  She stroked her chin and nodded her approval.  This was definitely her city.

        “Very well, where is the nearest place I can get transport to this city?” Kriisha asked.

        “You’sa can find a speed barge that leaves from the city station,” Derg replied, continuing to smile.

        “Thank you for help Derg, this is where I leave you, bye,” Kriisha said.  Before leaving, she bought a necklace that had teeth strung on it.  That was the least she could do.  Derg had been a great help.  He wrapped the necklace in a hand crafted cloth for Kriisha, and placed it in a wooden box.  Kriisha placed the box in a pouch on her vest.  She walked out of the shop. 

        “Wait! When I’sa be seeing you’sa again?” Derg hollered after her.  But it was too late; Kriisha had bounded down the street and out of sight.  She found her way to the transport station after consulting her provided map several times.  Kriisha found a transport leaving for Sarpedon.  She paid for her ticket at a large booth and climbed on board.  Kriisha had little time to lose.  She had to identify this base quickly.  The Sellonian took a seat near the exit door of the transport.  Some of the people stared at her continually.  The locals seldom saw a person as tall as she, and one carrying a blaster to boot.  Kriisha found if she stared at them, they would stop staring at her.  Despite the fun of it, she decided that taking a nap was top priority at the moment.  It would be an hour before she got to Sarpedon, and she could use the rest.  When the final call to board rang through the station, the transport lifted off the ground and zoomed into the air.  The Sellonian slept well throughout the short trip.  The pilot informed his passengers that they would be arriving soon.  As the transport neared Sarpedon, Kriisha peered out of her window and looked for any signs of military presence.  She spotted a gun tower perched atop a hanger, and a landing pad outside of that.  The flight landed at Sarpedon on schedule.  The transport set down just outside the city’s perimeter.  When the ramp was lowered, Lieutenant Commander Kriisha pushed ahead of the people trying to exit and jumped out.  Looking around, she could see that it was a small town.  It looked peaceful, sitting on the river that flowed beside it.  Sarpedon was a rustic little town.  Merchant shops, marine equipment vendors, kiosks filled with fruit, vegetables or the little everyday niceties the locals needed.  Every so often, along the cobblestone main street, she spied smooth columns replacing the normal supports for the entrances for some of the buildings.  She spotted a small wharf to the left of the landing pad.  Guarding the waterway entrance were two great statues of ancient warriors.  Kriisha entered into the city from the northern entrance.  People bustled about the town, doing this and that, carrying on as usual.  There were mostly mechanic shops and parts dealers lining this street.  The architecture of the town was simple, nothing large or exquisite, nothing of any great note, but everywhere were the keynote columns.  Yet there was still taste to be found in the simple architecture of Sarpedon.  Kriisha walked towards the area where she saw the hanger she had spotted earlier.  After passing by a storage facility lined with fencing, Kriisha spied the very thing she was looking for.  There, atop a bronze archway, flew a red and gold flag.  Embroidered into it were the letters ‘New Republic’.  It flapped gaily in the evening breeze, as it stood proudly above the hangers surrounding it.  Kriisha looked further inside the base and noticed a row of A-wings lined up outside of the hanger.  It appeared to be a flight practice.  There would be no other reason for having fighters in plain view but that.  Furthermore, the Sellonian could see an officer briefing the pilots.  To their left of them was a control tower.  No doubt it was used to direct air and space traffic.  The largest building was positioned behind the hanger.  Kriisha assumed it was used as housing or storage.  One satellite dish sat near the control tower, which was most likely used as communication between the base and the fleet.  She pulled out her holovid recorder, and furtively took pictures of the base.  Now that the identity of the base was confirmed, Kriisha needed to find out the names of the warships, and the size of their compliments.  There was a checkpoint stationed at the entrance, with a lone guard stood posted at it.  Maybe he would know something about the fleet.  Kriisha walked over to the man.  He straightened up at the sight of the Sellonian, and placed his rifle firmly against his shoulder. 

        “Excuse me, I wonder if I could ask you some questions,” Kriisha said.  The guard looked at her and paused a moment.  Kriisha couldn’t determine if he was suspicious, or if he was taken by her height.

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