Thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for the universe!
I'm deeply appreciative of u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for their help with editing!
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Chapter 13: Bohemian
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Memory transcription subject: Vekna, Venlil Investigative Journalist
Date [standardized human time]: December 7th, 07:24, 2136
It’s a longer drive to the hangars than it was to the museum, mainly because of the “airfield’s” elevated position. From what I understood, this was to make it easier for show pilots to gain speed for their stunts. For us, however, it serves only as a hindrance for our Jeep to overcome. Jeep, Jeep. Such a funny word. That’s what Chase calls his car. Well, technically, it’s the company that made his car. He explained that the name was derived from that of an ancient car that was used at the same time as those Tiger tanks. It even had a gas motor! Well, to be fair, most vehicles at that time did, but after growing up surrounded by fusion-electric engines and plasma thrusters, it was still breaking new ground for my engineering side.
I’m still brimming with excitement as we finally make it up to the airfield. I look out the window as it enters my line of vision. I’m sorely let down. Standing opposed to the grand spaceports of Venlil Prime, this place consists of a row of metal, semi-circular structures lining the side of a long, wide strip of concrete. How plain… The data dump had said that most terran vehicles before 2047 didn’t have VTOL capabilities, so a long run of space to build sideways speed was necessary for their flight. Function before form, I guess. Can’t complain about that.
As we drive by the structures, I spot letters and numbers above the wide doors on each one. I assume they correspond to the planes inside, as I recognize a few of them. PBY-5, BF-109, YAK-15, and a few more that I didn’t care to read pass us by as we make our way down the strip of tarmac. Translators always did struggle with such naming conventions, but I’ve gotten used to it by now. Still, too many can give you a terrible headache. The one we come to a stop in front of, though, has a simple designation upon it; F-14. I tilt my head slightly. I don’t recall ever seeing an “F-14” on display, and if Chase had a model of it, it wasn’t one that I was allowed to touch. As we disembark from our trusty land vehicle, I have no idea what to expect. That’s the most exciting part!
As we approach a side door, Chase gives me a bit of history regarding this F-14. “This bad boy was pulled from active service after an air confrontation in the 1970s.” Chase began commenting, taking the familiar tone of museum guides the galaxy over. “The Pilot lived, his copilot didn’t, and it was inactive for the rest of the Cold War. Eventually, it got abandoned in a scrapyard for a century or so as part of the usual retirement of such craft. When the previous staff found her, she was apparently in pretty bad shape, but they managed to fix her up and get her airworthy again. She flew shows for the museum for about 20 years until the F-22s and F-45s were up and ready to go. Then it was back to the scrap heap for her. Or at least, that's what was supposed to happen.” Chase winks at me, a human gesture meant to convey slyness or deception. Any other Venlil would have been horrified by that, but it goes without saying I’m not any other Venlil.
“I came across her a month or so after they sold her off and got pennies on the dollar!” My translator didn’t even attempt to make the currency conversion. “I’ve been keeping it here ever since. It’s in much better condition than at the scrapyard, and I intend to keep that way. I’ve made it my personal pet project to keep her ready to fly at a moment’s notice, but I haven’t had the chance to for a while. But we have time now! You wanna see?”
I don’t even need to talk to answer, my tail doing all the work for me. I’m going to get a personal air show, of course I want to see! I can barely contain my excitement as we approach the access door. We soon reach it, Chase opening it slowly so as not to break the frostbitten hinges. It’s pitch black inside, with only the silhouette of a landing gear visible thanks to the limited morning light. It’s only when Chase flicks on the lights that I’m truly floored. In front of me stands a massive aircraft, sleek in design and wide in stature. The wings of the vehicle stretched for what must be tens of meters, with two massive jet turbine engines in the rear of the plane. Even its very aesthetic is almost predatory in nature, its elongated nose and thin physique almost reminding me of a Krakotl. It's primitive but… brahk it, it’s beautiful! From what I can see, there are two seats in the cockpit, a thought forming in the back of my mind at that sight. Reason tells me otherwise, but…what if I got to fly in this thing? I’m brought out of my mind by the loud thunk and the sound of liquid flowing. I look over to see Chase connecting the plane to a large metal tank. Ah, that must be the fuel.
“Fueling it up, Chase?”
“Yeah, what else? We can’t fly on an empty tank, after all!”
…We?! I nearly pass out as I realize my wildest hopes Are coming true. I was going to get to fly in this thing!! It’s honestly hard to remember what happened between then and now as I’m being helped into the rearmost seat by Chase. Something about safety checks, I think? Who cares?! I’M GOING TO FLY!! As I’m being strapped in, I notice something. There are a sphekload of gauges, switches and buttons back here! I assumed they all had a purpose, but I remember Chase telling me that I wouldn’t need to press them at some point. Thank the Herd, my translator is killing itself trying to translate all this! One thing I would have to just deal with is the seat not being built for someone with a tail, but that’s not too big a deal. If I’m remembering my physics correctly, most of the g-forces would be directed downwards, and given Venlilian skeletal structure, I should be a-okay. Our only weak points are our knees!
Eventually, Chase disconnects the fueling line once we have enough and he climbs into the cockpit, a special helmet on his head. I’m also wearing a similar helmet with a small microphone extended close to my snout. I have to keep my ears pressed against my head for it to fit, but an ear piece allows us to communicate freely. Chase opens the humongous hangar door with a remote, the entire front section of the massive building parting to admit us into the cool, Canadian air. Chase toggles something up front, as I soon hear the combustion-powered jet engines whine to life. It sounds almost like a malfunctioning fusion engine, but Chase assures me that sound is normal. Did we say that? I can’t tell over the whining! Suddenly, I see something I didn’t even know this plane could do. The wings of the aircraft pull back like a bird before we start to taxi out to the start of the runway. The automated air traffic control system verbally informs us that we’re clear to go, with a set flight range for him to fly about within.
He extends the wings back out as he looks back at me. “Ready to have some fun, Vekna?”
OH BRAHK YES!!! I can’t help but give an excited bleat as my heart races in my chest. I’m glad that it’s from excitement this time, though Chase has given me my own inhaler in case a shortlung attack happens during the flight. I give a thumbs-up, another human gesture, as Chase grabs the throttle and pushes it all the way forward. I’m quickly pressed into the back of my seat as we quickly accelerate up to flight speed. Okay, forgot about forward momentum! Readjusting tail! I can hear the usually whiny engines roaring through my headset, making it clear as to why I was given it in the first place despite my head shape. It only takes a few seconds before I feel the vehicle lifting up, the ground receding from view below us as I feel the landing gear pull in. This is incredible! I’m flying! I’M FLYING!!! I can see the peaks of snowy mountains all around us as we fly higher and higher. I can’t help but giddily giggle at the thrill of this flight.
Hearing my excited chittering, it seems Chase gets an idea. “You like that, eh? Try this on for size!”
The entire planet then rolls along our plane’s central axis, and before I know it, the ground is above me. It’s a surreal sight, but before I can process it fully, I feel myself getting pushed down into my seat once again as we pitch down into a canyon. Flying! In the air! Look at the ground speed past! I scream in joy a little as Chase masterfully maneuvers the aircraft so low to the ground I can practically lick the snow! I was flying myself above the chasm! How can I even describe these feelings? These wonderful feelings that I would like to feel forever! They’re too great for words to possibly do justice! Listen to yourself ramble! You’re flying!!!
We continue doing tricks for an incredible while longer until we hear an alert in the cockpit. Chase looks over to the blinking red light, presses a button, and after a moment both sound and sight stop. He then says words that I never want to hear again. “Alright, looks like we’re low on fuel. I only filled her up enough for a short flight, anyways. Let’s get down and give this old bird a rest, eh?”
I don’t want to. I want to stay up here and keep flying where the realities of my existence can’t touch me! Where I am free from the bounds of the world! But, tragically, I’m not in control. I can only watch as we slow our airspeed, adjust our heading, and come in for a gentle landing. The gears screech in protest underneath us as they decelerate the plane to a stop, bringing an end to the best moment of my life. It felt like the best kind of forever, but was …already over. We taxi back into the hangar, coming to a stop as Chase powers down the plane. It takes a while to go through the shutdown process, and I remain in the cockpit for most of it. Anything to allow me to replay the flight in my mind as many times as I can. Eventually, though, that too came to an end as Chase moved the ladder to retrieve me. I hold out my arms as he unbuckles me and lifts me out of the seat, removing my helmet lastly.
“So, how did you like all that, Vekna?”
I don’t have the words to express my enjoyment. I was in the air, away from all my problems and with one of the few people to have treated me like an actual person. I’m unfortunately reminded of my strife by this happy thought, and I come down from my flying high enough to respond.
“Y-Yeah, it was great! Can we do that again soon??”
He laughs as we sit on a bench in the hangar. I lean against him as he wipes the sweat from his brow from having cleaned and prepared the F-14 for another stint of inactivity.
“Sure, but how about we try another plane next time, yeah?”
Next time! I’m about to affirm when a loud alert sounds from Chase’s pad. He mutters something under his breath and checks what it is. Curiously, I look too. There’s a small, top-down silhouette of the airstrip in the middle with rings coming off of it. A ways away, a red dot is shown approaching. Unlike some of the other aircraft, each with their own designations above them, this one is unmarked. It isn’t heading towards us, but it is going in the direction of Vancouver. I don’t see anything particularly wrong with that, but Chase is a different story altogether. He says something about poop under his breath as he hastily stands and starts donning his winter gear once again. I’m left confused on the bench at Chase’s concern.
“Chase? What’s wrong? Why did that alert sound?”
He looks over at me as he’s getting dressed. His eyes are dilated far past their usual. Whatever he knows must be really scaring him. What does that mean for me? “No transponder. I know what that means all too well. Black Ops”
Oh, that’s what that means for me. Speh.
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Memory transcription subject: Elijah Morrisson, UN Pilot Ace
Date [standardized human time]: December 7th, 05:00, 2136
I stand outside on the pad as I wait for the two bucketheads General Meiers assigned to this mission to arrive. I had already gotten the shuttle prepped for flight an hour ago, its Venlil-tech fusion engines purring like a contented cat. Though how a fusion engine can purr, I can’t begin to speculate. They didn’t have the most thrust, and were very civilian oriented, but I had to admit their lack of sound was useful for practical concealment, far outperforming the quietest craft we had that weren’t helicopters. It was a far departure from the F-55 I flew in the Satelite Wars, but that’s by design. I kind of missed that old bird. I bet I could probably kick a rookie pilot’s ass in one if I were given the chance. They think they’re all hotshots in their F/A-72s, pah! What was I going to do again? Oh, yeah, bitch about those good-for-nothing NCOs. I look at my watch, seeing that it’s already 05:02. Where are they? As soon as I think that, I see the door to the pad’s gantryway open, flashing me with the blinding white fluorescent light from the airlock. There they are! About damn time! I wave the pair down as they approach at a steady pace, careful not to slip on the ice coating the catwalk.
“Glad y’all could finally join me. Any longer and the general’d have us court-martialed!”
I receive a couple of groans from the two as they lug their bug-out bags into the cargo storage area. “Yeah, you try packing up all your shit without anyone noticing you’re going! We couldn’t even say we’re transferring even if we were asked! That secrecy takes a while.”
“I did. That ain’t no excuse for tardiness, Anderson. And what about you, Xhen? What took you so long?”
He stands quiet for a moment, looking between me and the backside of Anderson as he struggles to get his oversized bag to fit in the cramped personal cargo compartments. He soon succeeds, patting the compressed luggage pridefully before turning back to me.
“Waiting for Lieutenant Anderson, sir!”
I can’t help but laugh at that, earning me a scornful look from the now-standing lieutenant.
“Ah hah. Ah hah hah. Let’s just get going before we’re caught and tried for treason or some other trumped-up charge.”
Xhen and I both salute our current commanding officer as we load into the shuttle. Thankfully, there are four seats up front. Anderson taking the co-pilot position and Xhen taking the co-pilot-passenger position behind him. We strap in, and I ready the shuttle for flight. Unlike the fighters I was used to flying pre-contact, this shuttle did almost everything for me including flying the damn thing, and I could still make it do that, too! Once we were firmly in the air, I could set autopilot and comfortably do whatever while in route. Those Venlil pilots must be some spoiled sons-of-bitches. After making sure everybody is strapped in, I activate the VTOL functionality as we quickly rise above the treeline.
The two boots gripped their seats in fear. Heh, I forgot that they didn’t have their sky-legs yet! Well, who was I to deny them their first proper Morrisson flight experience? I shove the throttle forward and switch to frontal propulsion. The shuttle lurches forward, quickly surpassing the sound barrier with a passing boom. Once we’re supercruising, I slip the shuttle into autopilot and lean back, the other two still scared stiff from our departure. Calm down you babies, I hope that once we arrive, we won’t have to stay for long. I wanna be home in time for Christmas, dammit! But…I can’t cover up my grievances with jokes forever. Besides, I might Jinx it if I say it aloud.
“Some warning next time would be nice, Morrison!” I hear Anderson sputter next to me.
I just chuckle a little and turn my flight seat towards him. “I thought you had flight experience too, Lieutenant! What, can’t handle a little jolt?”
“That was more than a little jolt, Morrisson! If you’re going to keep flying like a crackhead, I’m going to take those controls from you and fly us all there myself!”
I chuckle at that as I prepare one of my signature Air Force quips. “Good luck with that! You can barely find your own flight stick!” At that, he gives me a side eye that could level mountains. Mountains, maybe, but not me.
“You’re lucky we’re stuck in this suicide squad together, or I’d have you dishonorably discharged for that.” Xhen snickers behind him. “I’m not- you know what? Screw you guys. I’m going to go to the back and finish my night’s rest.” He then unbuckles himself from his seat and makes his way to the back of the shuttle. I watch to see if Xhen will follow suit, and sure enough, he also yawns.
I sigh, deciding that he needs his rest too. “You sleepy, private?”
He snaps to attention, though there’s a noticeable lag to his actions. “No sir! Just recovering from the unexpected awa-”
“Just go. Only two people are required in the cockpit at all times. With how advanced this computer is, I’d count it as one. You’re dismissed.”
Xhen blinks at me in confusion. “So…I can go to sleep?”
Oh for God’s sake, these privates. “I said dismissed!”
I turn back around to face forward, hearing Xen hurriedly march into the back of the shuttle behind me. Which leaves me alone. Again... With nothing to do but wait, my mind turns to Vekna. I don’t know why she ran, and I don’t know where she went. If Beech has her, I’m going to do what I should’ve done years ago. I’m going to complete my mission, I’m going to get some answers, and I’m going to find that damn Venlil, whether she wants me to or not. I’m coming, Vekna, and hell nor high water's gona fuckin’ stop me.
… Oh Lord, when did I get so dramatic?
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It's been a while since one of these footers, hasn't it? Well, that's because there's some news to share! If you followed this story in the MCP, you'd know that this is where it previously ended. But no more! In the works are two extra chapters for you all on Reddit, along with an exciting announcement or two under the last chapter! I won't spoil anything now, but I'd just like to say that I'm incredibly excited for the future of the Rouge Chronicles and the NOPCU as a whole! Thank you all for reading, and I look forward to sharing the next chapter as soon as it's complete!

Eris sat in dim half-light, watching the distant shapes of jumpships criss-cross the skies above the Last City. The drapes on her window fluttered gently on the breeze, casting sinuous shadows across the floor of her apartment. This was not her original apartment, the one she’d had before…
She had never been back there. She assumed it had been emptied and repurposed for some other Guardian - some other Risen that hadn’t been presumed dead beneath the lunar surface. Zavala had once awkwardly suggested he might be able to return ownership of the place to her, but she’d declined. She didn’t want it back. Though empty of her possessions, it was too full of memories. Too full of moments. Too full of terrible songs Eriana had tried to get her to enjoy. Too full of late night ramblings with Brya. Too full of Vell’s boisterous tales from the frontier, mythologized by too much beer and too little care about how much noise they were making.
Even being in the City, buried in the shadow of the Traveler, threatened to overwhelm Eris’ emotional fortitude. She didn’t like being back here, but with the Witch Queen’s recent arrival on Mars, Ikora had wanted her best and brightest minds in one place, to sift through the myriad reports coming in from the front - such as the ever shifting geography of Savathun’s Throne World might have a “front”. The reports had not yet manifested much of note, and even those that Eris’ suspected might contain useful, actionable intelligence still lacked meaningful context within the greater scheme of whatever the Witch Queen was planning. Each report was a piece of a puzzle, but every time Eris placed a piece of the puzzle into its greater whole, the shape of the puzzle and the shape of all the remaining pieces changed. It would be maddening to most others, but there was little capable of driving Eris’ mad anymore. She’d already done that. Already lived a lifetime of madness. It wasn’t worth her time to do it again.
Eris closed the window just as the Moon was beginning to slip behind the bulk of the Traveler. She slipped out of her armor and set it on a weathered chair in the corner of the room. She pulled down her hood, unwrapping the thin strips of linen from around her eyes, letting her matted curls cascade down her shoulders. The linen was mostly both ceremonial, and yet also functional, intended to keep would-be gawkers from gawking, and help keep the worst bits of her new eyes’ discharge off of her face; but in truth her three eyes were more just sensitive since their… transmutation. Since her last dalliance with the latent magics of the Ahamkara. But for all the pain of their grafting, these eyes were innocent - pure, even. They were perhaps the only part of her that hadn’t experienced tragedy. These eyes hadn’t seen the Heart of Crota flay the Light from Omar as a Warlord might skin a deer. These eyes hadn’t seen Alak-Hul drive a hideous ax into the spine of Vell Tarlowe. These eyes hadn’t wept with Eriana when they discovered that Wei hadn’t made it home.
She gave the sliver of the Moon one last look before laying her head on her pillow. Her sleep was dreamless.
•••
Cold wind whipped at Eris’ face as the City transport carried her to the Tower. Condensation still clung to the metal railing along the ship’s topdeck. The sun was beginning to peek over the mountains. With little fanfare, the transport slipped into the hangar, and Eris’ disembarked, heading to the administrative level. As she neared Zavala’s office, she could hear voices inside, speaking in urgent, but hushed tones. She stepped through the door. Ikora and Zavala were hunched over the Titan Vanguard’s desk, listening to what sounded like live comms chatter from an active mission. Ikora waved her over.
“Our informant in the Throne World claims he found a temple to Oryx,” Ikora whispered, “The Guardian is there now to appraise the situation.”
“I’d love to get eyes on this,” Zavala said.
“The Ghosts are working on it.”
A voice crackled through the feed.
“The temple to Oryx is protected by one of Savathûn's toughest warriors. He's guarding something - something you can use like you used Sagira’s shell.”
“That’s the informant?” Eris asked.
“Yes.” Ikora replied.
“And what do we know of this warrior guarding it?”
“Nothing more than what you just heard.”
Images suddenly appeared on the monitor.
“About time,” Zavala said.
Eris could see walls, towering monoliths of a shimmering, almost pearlescent ivory; and trees, akin to the cyprus of Earth, but crimson. She could see the Guardians moving deeper into the canyon of ghostly architecture as their Ghosts followed, capturing every detail. A firefight broke out around the first corner, as the Guardians began to engage with the Lucent Brood - that’s what they’d begun calling them, the Hive that had been “blessed” by the Light. Eris still didn’t understand it. The Speaker had always said that the Traveler had made the Ghosts as a means of protecting itself, as a way to create for itself an army capable of protecting it. To gift a million dead souls a second life, in exchange for their devotion. And of course, devotion inspired bravery, and bravery inspired sacrifice - or so they said. But how did they Hive fit into that philosophy? The Hive certainly didn’t fear sacrifice. Hell, Oryx, Xivu, and Savathun had sacrificed each other a thousand times over just to increase their own power. But would they defend the Traveler with the Light? Would the Traveler want them to? Eris pushed the thoughts aside. At the end of the day, she didn’t care. The Traveler was just a God Ball. It had made its army for selfish reasons, given the Light to those who could save it; but when the time had come for the Traveler to save her, to save her friends, as they’d descended into the maw of the Moon to kill Crota, it hadn’t done anything to stay their final deaths. And so Eris no longer cared what the Traveler might think of all this.
Something on the screen caught her eye - a hulking Hive at the very edge of the frame. It vanished as the Ghost capturing the feed moved on to something else.
“Hold on!” Eris shouted, “Go back to that! What was that?”
The crackly voice of the informant cut back through the feed.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, that's our guy! The one guarding the temple! What's he doing away from his post?”
The Ghost’s feed swung back toward the towering Hive warrior, and Eris’ blood ran cold. It couldn’t be. No Ghost would be foolish enough.
The Guardian had killed it on the Dreadnaught, in that stygian prison in the heart of the vessel - and yet here, now, the bastard Hive Alak-Hul yet lived.
“No,” she whispered.
Alak-Hul was newly formed, the dark Hive chitin of his former body shed for a fairer skin - as though by shedding the blasphemous shell of his former self he might absolve himself of his sin. But he couldn’t. Not to Eris.
The cold in Eris’ gut melted, replaced by the heat of fury. Alak-Hul shimmered away from the battle, retreating deeper into the Temple.
“Find him,” Eris spoke, to no one and to everyone.
Eris watched then as the Guardian and their cohort worked their way with tactical precision through the fortress, eventually descending into a final pit and landing in the shadow of a monument to the Taken King’s victory over one of the Worm Gods. Alak-Hul emerged again.
The battle was fought. Each bullet spent on Alak-Hul was one bullet too few. She wondered if the Darkblade felt pain. Did their chitin contain those kinds of receptors? She hoped so. A blast of firepower from one of the Guardians knocked Alak-Hul’s wicked helm clean off, revealing the pustuled, fleshy head beneath. More bullets were spent, though how many punctured Alak-Hul’s exposed flesh was unknown. Eris hoped they were many. And then, all at once, Alak-Hul fell. For a second time.
“His Ghost. Find His Ghost,” Eris whispered.
The Ghost’s feed panned around, searching for a target. She could hear the Guardians’ chatter. Something was wrong.
“Alak-Hul's Ghost got away,” said one of the Ghosts, “It just left his body here.”
Eris’ rage bubbled over.
•••
Slipping into the Throne World was easy enough. She’d learned long ago how to move in shadow. She moved silently through the canyon, down the canals, through the bog, and into the pit, to come upon the husk of Alak-Hul.
She stood over him for a long time, looking over the warrior Hive’s lifeless form. She hadn’t been this close to him since… not since Vell.
“You don’t even remember him, do you?” she asked the husk, “I’ve hated you, for so long - and I finally had peace after we found you at Saturn but now…
“That’s not you anymore, is it? You won’t remember that. I hate you for things you don’t even know you did. Is that fair?”
Eris looked down at the fleshy mass bursting from Alak-Hul’s neck.
“I want it to be fair. I want to hate you. I want you to burn under the heat of a thousand stars for what you did; but that’s not… that’s not you.
"I'm sorry."
She turned away from the body, and stepped back towards the long spool of rope that ascended back up the length of the pit. She paused for one final moment before beginning her climb.
“I hope you find peace,” she said.

I'm going to be playing in Tucson, AZ soon. Ventana Canyon. I'm playing both courses. Can anyone give any tips on those specific courses? Or tips on desert golf, specifically. In my limited experience with it, it seems that it's hard to score because missing the fairway puts you among the rattlesnakes. How do people handle this?

A post in another thread had me reminiscing on my first blast. Here it is. Let's hear yours
Oh god the first time…
I was in Arizona outside tucson, driving my old VW bug sand mod, was sometime in the early 90s. The bug broke down, it was late and I was broke, smoking on my last joint, started walking down The road to start the long hike home until I could figure what else to do. This caddy pulled up, super hot chick driving with a dude in passengers. They ask me if I need a ride, im like well yea…then they ask if I party. Im like well hell yea. But im broke as a joke. She says don't sweat it, we about to light up a hotel room, you wanna join? I thought, thank you god.
I climb in back and they take off. I'm a little uneasy since I dont know these people from Adam and there's that possibility they're some weirdos but I figure scared money never made money…what else was I facing that night? Hell with it.
They pull up to a motel 6 and check in a room just as promised. We pass a few js around and she opens a bottle of cognac. Then after a few she asks me if I ever did meth. I was like, no but I don't plenty of cocaine so…but she says oh no this is similar but also very different. She says she don't ordinarily turn nobody on first time on principle but since I look like I got my shit together in my head then if im.down she'll give me some and make sure im ok. They're shooting so she takes out a vrand new needle in front if me and rinsed it in bleach anyway just to put me at ease since it wss also the first time I ever shot anything.
There was no way I could shoot myself, having a needle phobia. She says she'll shoot for me. I give her my arm and look away. She wipes a spot, compliments me on my “junkies dream” veins and hits me. I try my best to act stoic, and like im fine. But then a moment later it was a damn good thing I was standing next to the bathroom at the time because suddenly out of nowhere I had an overwhelming urge to throw up, and as soon as I got my head over the toilet bowl I just hurled hard.
I kinda crouched in front of the toilet a minute to collect myself. Idk if they heard me puke but they did ask me through the door if i was ok. I said yea yea im perfect sorry ill be right out. They were like, ok cool, we is waiting on u.
I hated to be rude and as soon as that episode came on it was over and I thought I'd be ok now. Shaking it off, I walked out of the restroom into the main room. And what happened next, both visually and psychoactively, has been and forever will be burnt into my memories as long as I live.
At the same exact time my head literally went into such an intense rush it felt like I was just transported into a 747 jet and the pilot was saying, fasten your seatbelt folks, we're off to New York. I not only felt the rush but heard it in my ears and an electric tingling went from the top of the back of my skull straight down my spine and it felt like every nerve in my body came alive with a whoosh in my ears. I shook and couldn't control it. I felt my eyeballs wanting to zing back and forth and speaking coherently was impossible. The single biggest rush I ever felt before and since.
At this same time, what my eyes were still able to see was something my poor rushing out brain had a hard time taking in and comprehending.
The girl and the dude were already in bed. Completely naked. Looking up at me, saying well, bout time you got outta there. All freshener up? We been waiting for you. Care to hop in? Smiling slyly at me, masturbating each other.
All i recall is somewhat recovering my ability to speak and in a sort of shock which left the scene in front of me seeming so unreal and surreal, I said…uh…I thought you two were hubs and wife or at least gf/bf?? The dude laughs and says, oh no man, she picked me up about 5 minutes before you! She chimes in and says hey look, I been straight up with u so far and I'll continue to be. Im married with a whole life full of responsibility. .and once in awhile, I like to break free and get me some dope and pick up a few studs like you and fuckfest til the sun comes up. So now that you're high, you gonna just stand there or you gonna fuck me now?
To the hilarity and feigned dismay of some guys I've told this to, I either fortunately or not finally freaked out at this point. Between the incredible rush my head was going through and this random, freaky situation in front of me, I guess it was all too much for my young brain to handle. I thanked them for the high and the offer but declined and all i recall was getting a paranoid feeling like the walls were closing in around me and I had to get outside for air. I walked out, closed the door and began running....running…
By the time I stopped running i was a mind blowing distance away from that hotel and already 3/4 of the way home, wheezing but still amazed I was able to run that far at all without being totally exhausted. I walked the rest of the way home, sat in front of my window and just stared at the rising sun and the street. A million thoughts racing through my mind at once. And stayed there until I fell asleep like a whole day later.
I recall it in a similar way to my experiences on LSD. Very weird, very surreal. I used to wonder what if I had joined in that little “fuckfest” she wanted. If I would have began my meth use long before I actually did (it wasa few years before I saw meth again). I guess im glad for what I did because aids was just getting really big and who knows right.
Yea. I know. My lame ass missed out. Oh well.

Well, I've been sitting on this for a bit now, so thank you to u/cmdr_shadowstalker, u/BruhMomentGEE, and u/Kazevenikov for their editing help. I know these past few chapters have been heavy, but they are crucial to the long road ahead. Life truly is the journey for we all know our eventual destination. Without any further ado, the newest chapter.
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FIRST ---- PREVIOUS ---- [NEXT]
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Sera sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. It had been almost a week since Cain had left and she could feel his absence taking its toll. She had sometimes woken up, eager to make him breakfast, only to be greeted by silence as she tore the blankets off. Allison had come by a couple days ago for a movie night, but she had left early as her posting was being moved around and she was being called back to help train new Marines, on Earth this time.
​
So…here she was, staring up at the ceiling thinking about Cain. Sera had thought that the time would fly and she would get a message from him on a courier ship but…nothing.
​
The beeping of her omnipad shook her out of her funk a bit, the digital bell grating a bit to her more sensitive ears.
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“Hello?” Sera asked, her voice tired.
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“Hey girl! How’s it going?” the enthusiastic voice of Meli said from the other end of the line. Sera sighed as her more upbeat tone gave her something to focus on.
​
Sera sighed as she deflated a bit on the bed. “Fine. Just…great.”
​
She could hear Meli frowning from the other end of the line.
“Sera…you don’t sound fine. You can tell me girl, it’s okay. You and Cain only recently made up and…well, it got bad between you two if I remember what Allison told me. I could come over if you want,” Meli offered, her tone becoming gentler and more caring.
Sera shook her head and curled up on her side, boring imaginary holes into the drywall opposite her. Wanting nothing more than to just not talk about those awful two weeks. “N-no. It’s fine. I just…it’s a bit of a funk, okay? I’m fine Meli, truly I am,” she warbled, the memories of all the restless nights and painful memories beginning to well again.
“I’m not convinced Sera. You sound hurt. I’ll be over as soon as I can, and I may have a surprise for the three of us. See you in a bit!” Meli chirped before ending the call.
“I-wait! Meli? Meli? Damnit!” Sera cursed, her brief outburst leading her deflate more and more. She sighed as she thought about the brief things that had flashed in her mind. How Meli should have left her alone, how she still needed Cain-
The thought hit like a freight train, waves of sorrow crashing over her like a grotesque wave as she thought back to the things she had called Cain. How she had lashed out at him, driving him away when they needed each other the most. Sera felt herself grow weak at how she nearly tore herself apart in front of him, content to destroy the life they had built together.
She didn’t even care that she was still naked, the sheet offering little to nothing in terms or protection against the cold air of the AC. Sera shivered as the malaise took over, her bed now offering only cold comfort instead of the warmth of her fiancé by her side. She sniffled as another synthetic ping echoed from her omnipad, reluctantly rolling over to look at the message.
>Allison: Sent: 2:12 PM
Sera wanted to sink into the bed at Allison’s message, wanting to just be alone. A part of her scolded her for closing herself off, inwardly saying that she needed Allison and Meli now more than ever. But deep down another, more primal part of her kept her closed off and isolated. She had failed as a woman, to protect her man, from her own choices to boot. She deserved this.
Sera could feel the tears well up again as someone knocked on the door. Sniffling, she stumbled out of bed and navigated through the tight hallway. She coughed from a bit of spit going the wrong way and finally landed at the door, steeling herself before twisting the knob and opening up.
“Hey, did you get my mess-?” Allison began, stopping and fumbling a bit as Sera propped herself up in the doorway, her body in the nude.
“I…what is it?” Sera asked, her tone sad, almost defeated.
Allison swallowed. “Uh, well, you’re naked.”
“Huh? Oh, I didn’t notice,” Sera sighed about to close the door again. Allison reacted quickly and stopped Sera from shutting herself off again, the amazonian hybrid slipping inside.
“Hey, c’mon Sera, this isn’t you. Why don’t we go out for lunch? You look like you could use something to eat,” Allison tried, pointing to where Sera had slacked, her once fit yet plump body now looking more like the fresh recruits Allison saw at the newly established garrisons around the state.
“So? Does it matter?” Sera groaned, shuffling her way back to the bedroom, Allison following close behind.
“Yes, it absolutely does! Sera, Cain wouldn’t want this for you. Just, please, reach out. I’m here for you,” Allison sighed, Sera ignoring her.
“Y’know what, I don’t care. You and I are going to lunch whether you like it or not.”
Sera slowly turned to face Allison, her face a mask of sadness. “I…I just want to be alone.”
“No. This…you are not going to become one of those sob stories they write about on the datanet. Here, let me pick something out for you,” Allison asserted, striding over to the rather small walk-in closet and pulling aside some of the garments from the bar.
“Hmm, what about this?” Allison said, emerging after a few minutes of digging, a yellow sundress in her hands.
“That was Cain’s favorite. He always said I looked so nice in it,” Sera deadpanned, flopping onto the bed, spread-eagle and mumbling into the mattress.
“Sera, you know he will be back. It’s required that he at least-”
“And if he doesn’t? What if he never comes back, Ali? What if he just used this as an excuse to dump me?” Sera mumbled, her words unclouded after rolling over to stare at the ceiling again.
“Would he have given you so much grief about you tearing into yourself if he was just going to leave you? Would he have been so adamant about taking his engagement band with him if he was just going to dump you? Sera…Cain loves you. He is strong in his own way. Now, it’s your turn,” Allison huffed, hanging the sundress on an open spot on the rack that hung over the bedroom door.
“But…but..” Sera sputtered, the cold beginning to nip at her thoughts again, her body shivering from a lack of clothes.
“No buts Sera. Now, what do you think of this little number?” Allson smiled, showing off a rather nice looking mauve blouse, the shirt looking much more form fitting than the dress.
Sera slowly propped herself on her elbows to look at the piece and sighed. “Cain…I…can we try something else? I…I don’t want to wear Cain’s color.”
Allison raised an eyebrow at the statement but put her thoughts about on the side for now. After a little more digging she found a sea foam green blouse, complete with a sea turtle on the front.
"I think this one looks cute. Where did you get it?"
Sera sighed as another cold blast of air hit her exposed body, not wanting to do anything but sink into the mattress. "Cain…got it for me at the aquarium. He…looked so nice that day…"
"C'mon Sera, please? Can…can you just try it on?" Allison weakly smiled, offering the shirt to Sera. The Nighkru sighed as she sat up, taking the shirt and putting it on grumpily.
"There, happy now?" Sera bit back, her tone rather icy and pointed. Allison didn't let it worry her.
"Hmm, yeah. Though…you should wear a bra…and, well…finish getting dressed. I'll go start the truck," Allison chirped, Sera looking down at the brown shag carpet of the bedroom.
"Bu-but he's…"
"Sera, I swear, if you don't get dressed, I will tickle you until you pass out again," Allison threatened, eyeing Sera as the Nighkru's eyes went wide with fear.
"You wouldn't dare-"
Allison giggled. "Course I would. Now, get dressed. At least do it for me, okay?"
Sera finally relented and slid off the bed, slowly resigning herself to the idea of leaving the house. She dug through her drawers, the pieces of furniture dangerously close to being empty, the small mountain of discarded clothes a testament to Sera’s attitude for the past week or so. It loomed in the corner of the room like a specter, the smell sharp and acute of tears and sweat. Sera tried to ignore the increasing scent but she wrinkled her nose out of reflex and got a full whiff of her laundry. Sera sighed at her neglected laundry pile, the stench becoming more acute.
She reached for the bottle of air freshener and squeezed the trigger, the aerosol mist releasing a pleasant smell of fresh sheets and sunshine. Sera couldn’t help but smile a bit at the memories the smell invoked, reminding her of when she washed clothes with Cain at his uncle’s, the wash drying for hours in the hot South Texas sun, the smell of wildflowers on the breeze as her and Cain shared a few cans of beer on the back porch. While the pool was still absolutely infested with algae, Sera did smirk a bit as she remembered chasing him around with a hose, squealing like a little kid when she managed to spray him down in the icy mist of the hose.
Sera smiled for a moment more than felt herself hollow out again. The memories were pleasant, but without Cain…it felt like she was missing a piece of her. However, she couldn’t dwell on the past forever and Cain would be back. An awful thought always scraped at the back of her head though. What if…what if he brought someone else home? What if she wasn’t the first anymore?
Cain…he wouldn’t…he never would. He…he didn’t even pursue Allison. Why do I think he would do that to me?
She mulled the thought over as she slid one of the last few pairs of underwear on, a rather skimpy black number she had bought for one of her date nights. She rolled her eyes at the irony of the garment now, but only just. Her only remaining bra followed, one of the tighter fitting ones as she struggled to squeeze into it, the straps loosening just enough to support her assets. She shook her head as she looked at herself in the mirror, her once toned yet supple arms now more spindly and Sera swore she could see a few veins showing through her skin. Speaking of, her skin was no longer uniform in color, with several dark bruises in her arms and core from when she ran into things around the house, whether it be the countertop or the massive oaken desk with their newly installed computer.
Her muscles were less defined than before, and Sera wanted to sob as she saw the now emerging gut where lean and trim abs used to be, the weight of her letting herself go on full display. She shook the thought off though, hardening her resolve as she slipped the aquarium shirt on, the garment loose in all the right places. Sera then opened the closet once more and dug around for her favorite pair of jeans…only to find her back up pairs and the pair she bought tight out of basic at a ridiculous markup since some trader had “exclusive access” to Earth. They weren’t even real blue jeans, probably some mystery fabric spit out by a fabricator, one way too rough to be denim and almost midnight black. Sera rolled her eyes at the ridiculous bottoms, pinning the idea to just give them away as a pair of women’s dress pants or the like. But that was for later.
It took a bit tucking and wiggling into but Sera managed to slide on a pair of her backup jeans, her butt looking absolutely enormous as the fabric clung to her behind. Sera shook her head as she walked out of the closet, the jeans still a bit too tight in the thighs for her liking. She did however love the deep pockets on the pants, having ample room for her credit chit, wallet, keys and QualQuartz dataslate that Meli had gotten her for Christmas.
Sera took a look back at the disheveled room, her things strewn all over the place. Some of the pillows on the bed had a mix of dried tears and alcohol, the sheets stained and dirty after her outpourings of grief. She sighed at the sorry state of the room, the mental fog thick at times, overwhelming at others. She took a deep breath as she felt for the light switch from her, letting as much of the pain flow out of her. She counted to ten after every breath, slowly calming down, and when she was ready, she turned out the light to the bedroom, the mess shrouded under a thick mist of darkness.
Sera patted down her pockets one last time while she made her way through the hallway, confident she had all her things. As she rounded the corner into the living room, Sera briefly considered grabbing her purse, but, after a bit of internal deliberation, decided against it. She had enough with her wallet and chits as it was, so bringing the bag would be unnecessary.
She took a long, sweeping look at the small living space, the place nearly untouched ever since Cain left. She was about to shed a tear when Allison honked from outside, the blare of the horn startling her out of her thoughts. Annoyed for a split second by the reminder, Sera huffed and made her way outside, closing and locking the door. The hallway was spotless, and she could hear the sounds of construction echoing from other parts of the complex as the new Shil’vati owner renovated the property. The minor Noble who now owned the land needed an outlet for a recent glut of wealth, and with popular opinion falling with some of her other…choice assets, the family had chosen to go on a renovation spree. Soon Sera would have to start packing things to move into an empty unit in order for the construction crew to bring the block up to code and make it more open and furnished. It also helped that the old mall attached to the front side of the complex got bought out as well, the same family hiring multiple firms to liven up the old, nearly abandoned place.
But none of that was Sera's business. For now, all she had to do was take things one step at a time. She stepped out of the hallway, Allison already drumming her fingers on the steering wheel of her truck, the vehicle oversized for Sera but perfectly sized for Allison. She thanked the goddess that the runner was low enough for her to climb in, Sera feeling like a teenager again as she flopped down into the seat.
"So, any place in mind?" Allison asked, smiling down at her.
"Uh…hmm…how does Chili's sound?" Sera offered, a shy smile spreading across her face..
Allison rubbed her shoulder, firing up the engine. She tuned the radio to an old country station, checking the backup camera as she hummed along to the nearly ancient songs.
Sera couldn't help but smile, her prospective girlfriend giving off some of the same energy Cain would have if he had arranged a date for just Sera and him.
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"So…any idea of what you want for lunch?" Allison asked as the two of them slid into a booth, the Human server quickly bustling off to get their drinks. Sera was going to be going light, maybe a single margarita and some water. She didn’t want to overdo it today. Allison had settled on a craft beer of some kind that Sera didn’t recognize, Allison saying that it was rather good. Sera chose not to comment, her past few weeks had been filled with too much beer already, so just the one drink felt better.
Besides, I need to start weaning off the booze anyways. I have to go back to work at some point. And classes. Sera thought to herself, sighing as Allison looked over the menu. Her electric blue eyes peeked over the top edge of the laminated paper, much more alert than before.
“Sera? He-llo, Earth to Sera?” Allison asked, lowering the menu a bit, her expression more concerned than before.
Sera blinked a few times and let a small, nervous laugh escape. “Y-yeah, just…just thinking about some things.”
“Mmm. So…you wanna talk about it?” Allison asked, her concerned expression dissipating as her normal happier demeanor reappeared.
Sera tried to not giggle a bit, Allison being very easy on the eyes, almost like she had some of the more brutish features of a Shil’vati toned down a bit. “Ah, not really. It’s mostly about work or not drinking too much,” She admitted, blushing a bit as Allison nodded her head in acknowledgement.
“I get that. I have a pretty good counselor at my disposal if you want to talk to someone other than myself,” Allison smiled contentedly. The light of the midday winter sun gave ample light and Sera swore she caught the light hitting at certain angles; Allison’s eyes sparkled, the electric blue of her eyes making it clear she had implants of some kind.
Allison looked up and past Sera, a massive smile growing across her face. “Meli, so good to see you again!”
Sera nearly choked on a stray glob of spit, the Rakiri looking down at her old friend. “Allison invited me, Sera. Sorry to crash your date.”
Meli slid in beside Allison, the Shil’vati handing her the menu so she could look over it. “I…date? Allison…is this what this is? Why didn’t you just tell me?” Sera sputtered, Allison flushing blue at the observation.
“I uh…well…” the Shil’vati sputtered while Sera set down her menu and clasped Allison’s somewhat larger hands. She choked up a bit as Sera rubbed them gently, a deeply hidden smile crossing her features.
“Thank you Allison,” Sera sighed happily, breaking off the connection and pulling back; setting her menu aside, already decided on what she wanted.
“Welcome to Chili’s, my name is Bella and I’ll be helping you today. Can I get you started with any appetizers?” a cheery feminine voice asked from beside her. Sera looked towards the source of the voice, only to be confused at the dusky yellow alien that stood with an apron and notepad next to their table. She looked near Human, the only noticeable differences being of course the color of her complexion and what seemed to be very, *very* fine interlocking scales, her skin looking more beaded than scaly, but very smooth and polished. Almost like a dragon’s scales from old Human myths. Her hair was also stark black, and she had long, almost talon-like fingernails, painted a lovely shade of white.
“Uh…yeah. Can we get a Tripler Dipper and a Skillet Queso?” Allison asked, the waitress jotting it down almost like she was being timed.
“Alright, one Triple Dipper and a Skillet Queso. Is there anything I can get for you three while you wait? Refills, another beer perhaps?” the waitress asked, waiting expectantly. Sera was thrown off a bit by her sudden rush to get things out to them, the establishment nearly dead this time of day.
“Can I get a Dr. Pepper please?” Meli asked, the server nodding and noting it down in a flash.
“Of course!” Turning her attention to Sera, Bella asked, “Anything I can do for you ma’am?”
She gulped as Bella lowered her gaze to her, her eyes glinting and seemingly predatory. “I, uh…can I get some water?”
“One water. Got it. Do you three need some more time on what you would like to order?” Bella asked, addressing the three women.
“Yes please. Oh, and can we get chips and salsa too?” Meli replied, shooting a smile over to Sera.
“Sure thing! Those appetizers will be out in a few. Let me just run these to the kitchen and we’ll get you helped,” Bella confirmed, nodding before striding off to the kitchen, pad in hand.
“She seems nice,” Meli idly noted, seemingly glued to the page with the ribs being advertised on.
“Meli…tell me, why are you here?” Sera asked, trying to not sound offensive to her long time friend. Meli simply looked over the edge of the menu while Allison began to idly check the matching QualQuartz dataslate she had.
“Well, aside from seeing you? Brel wanted to surprise Junior with a surprise hunting trip up at Choke Canyon. Nothing too fancy, but his birthday is coming up soon. Brel really wants to take him up to the Maritimes, meet a few old friends and fish. Course, he wanted me to go, but after Cain left he ordered me to stay. Believe you me I tried to argue back, but he wouldn’t have it. But, my sister is planning to meet them there once they cross the border. Now, enough about me. How have you been?” Meli said, eyeing Sera. Allison coughed a bit, trying to look anywhere else besides the awkward conversation.
Sera sighed. She had to face this sooner or later, though a part of her desperately wanted to delay the inevitable. It wouldn’t help in the long term but…Sera steeled herself and took a deep breath.
“It’s been bad. I’ve lost sleep, I was drinking heavily, and I didn’t want to eat. Allison was the only one keeping me together, and even then only just as I felt at times that I wanted to waste away. Part of me wanted to deny Cain to anyone. If they took him away, then so did I. Looking at it now, it’s stupid and foolish. I was hurting no one but myself and Cain, and the feelings still come back from time to time. Sometimes it’s hard getting up in the morning, knowing he’s not there. That the man of the nest has been taken from you,” Sera sighed, a frown dominating her face.
“Well, we are here for you. You don’t have to hide away from us Sera. We care about Cain as much as you do. We’ll make it through together, okay?” Meli admitted, the wolf woman offering a look of shared understanding, Allison still engrossed by her dataslate.
“Thank you Meli. Allison?”
Allison looked up quickly, shutting the screen of her dataslate off, quickly stashing the device in her pocket. “M-yeah?” she stammered out, her face flushing blue as she tried to not look embarrassed.
“Thank you for inviting Meli. I…I needed this. Now, what are you feeling like, *girlfriend*~” Sera smoldered, giggling a bit at the cheesy pick up line. Allison rolled her eyes.
“Come on, you have to admit, we do make a cute couple Allison. Plus…I’ve seen how Cain looks at you sometimes. Once he gets back…I think we can seal the deal. If you want to, that is,” Sera offered, taking a sip of her margarita.
“I…I’d like that.”
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Missive from Alliance Special Intelligence Agent Bella Brus follows:
Ma’am the current operation in the Coastal Plains region of the state has borne much fruit. We have several junior agents working key Humans and Imperial officials, and my own operation still remains undetected. As of now, thirty Hyperion assets have been identified. All look Shil’vati on the surface but have tell-tale markers of blended genetics. Smaller tusks, more refined features, non-natural eye colors. You and the Council were correct, Hyperion is making strides never before seen. I will continue to work my current target; she seems especially pliable after an unrelated event. My plans and contingencies will be updated and sent to Command.
As a side note, my…partner has uncovered a dirty Interior agent. He has pried a decent amount of information from her through a combination of conventional and unexpected means. I am requesting permission to factor this angle into my current outlook.
-Agent Brus
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MISSIVE FROM THE DIRECTOR OF PROJECT HYPERION FOLLOWS
HANDLER N’KET, YOUR PRESENCE IS BEING REQUESTED AT OUR FORWARD OPERATING BASE. GENERAL LANKET HAS FULL AUTHORIZATION TO CONDUCT OUR FINAL STRIKE ON GOVERNESS BOUDRA. HAVE YOUR GEAR PREPARED BY THIS FRIDAY.
MAY THE GODDESS BLESS US.
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u/SpacePaladin15 's universe.
First fanart Whoo!!!
[Sad Estala eating Mangos] by AsciiSquid on the discord (Reddit profile SlimyRage )
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Memory transcription subject: Estala, Ex-Krakotl to Venlil Extermination training leader.
Date [standardised human time]: January 3rd, 2137
“So what is Earth like?”
Joseph and I lay on our backs, staring up at the clear blue sky above and enjoying such a beautiful day. As I lay nestled in his arm I felt safe, I felt like all the issues in the world didn’t matter right now. Back at home there would be self loathing, hatred, nightmares. But here, right now, they are gone.
“In what way?”
Joseph took a few moments to push a particularly pushy blue flowerbird out of the way as he responded, the avian had been chirping angrily at the audacity of the human who was not currently dispensing food. Based on what Joseph had told me, flowerbirds had actually started to become a problem around the refuge camp. The birds had quickly learned that if you annoyed the “predators” enough, they generally dispensed tasty seeds.
“In any way? It is hot, cold. Marshy, dry? What’s life on Earth like?” I asked.
The nightmares had been getting worse. The self hatred of being a potential predator was nothing compared with the loathing caused by knowing the effect of the choices I had made. Sometimes it was the families of victims I had failed screaming at me, asking why I didn’t save their loved ones. Others I was in Kalsim’s fleet, destroying Earth while Joseph begged for me to stop. All of them left me shaking as I awoke each paw.
“The answer to that is Yes. Based on what I’ve seen, Earth has one of the most varied environments as the Federation tends to homogenise everything. Snow covered vistas, sprawling forests, vast deserts, massive oceans. It’s actually what I was studying, a degree in Ecology [???].”
My translator failed to give meaning to the last word, giving up halfway through an explanation of colonising a new planet to live on. I decided not to ask, as from my experience such questions caused more painful revelations: I had enough of those to deal with as it is.
“This also means the wildlife varies wildly. Each biome has its own specialised species and adaptations to fit into the environment in exciting ways. Species will literally travel thousands miles in order to follow warm weather around the world. Entire forms of life only found and adapted to one single island or section of the world.”
I didn’t get why Joseph seemed to care about my wellbeing. I most definitely didn’t deserve it. I had met him under false pretences, and even now the camera was still recording. I just couldn’t… stop it. Three times I’d attempted to remove the device, being physically unable to do so each time. It was the last desperate connection I had to a world where I wasn’t a monster. A small part of me that wanted so badly to be right, to make everything I did be ok.
Not that it ever would be.
“Human culture and lifestyle are similar. There are over two hundred countries, all of them have their own cultures and way of life. Vast cities that spread up to the sky, small hamlets in the middle of nature. The answer to ‘What is Earth like’ is basically ‘Yes’.”
I had at least found the strength to disable the dead man’s switch. I remembered rushing back as fast I could after falling asleep in the humans calming embrace, only barely triggering the reset in time. I didn’t have to worry about accidentally releasing a video to the world. Now I only had to worry about Joseph finding out about my original intentions.
“What about where you lived, what was that like?” I asked, purposefully pushing my thoughts away, to just enjoy the calm for now. Joseph had suggested meeting here twice as often, every three paws instead of the seven we previously had an unspoken agreement for, an idea I very greatly appreciated. The human had also suggested meeting outside of this clearing, something I wasn’t ready for.
“Well I come from a country called England. It’s an Island, lots of rolling hilly countryside, fields, forests, farmland. Very green. Rather mild as weather on Earth goes, although it does rain a lot. I was studying in London, which is… was. Was a city of old and new, of modern skyscrapers reaching to the sky next to small buildings of wood made half a millennia ago. Family lives far further north than that though, in the countryside. I’ve got pictures if you want to see.”
Joseph took a moment to fish out his holopad, navigating through the menus before showing me pictures of his life before Venlil prime. Of buildings shining with bright lights, of picturesque countryside that looked like they could come from the Gojid cradle. I felt a bitter sadness that a lot of the places I was being shown didn’t exist anymore because of the federation.
Because of people like you.
Eventually the pictures stopped on an image of a large rolling countryside providing the backdrop to four humans. One of them was clearly a younger Joseph. Not that long ago seeing such an image would have initiated a fear response, of worry from seeing so many forward facing eyes. But now… now I just felt numb to the entire thing.
“Is that your family?” I asked, guessing the answer already.
“Yea. That’s Me, Mom, Dad and my older sister Vanessa. Vanessa would love you, always been into birds, parrots especially. There’s a parrot sanctuary nearby that we’d visit every open day, so meeting someone like you would blow her mind.”
I focused on the last figure, who seemed to be covered in strange braces and holding into what looks like some form of crutch. Clearly an injury of some kind from living on the more dangerous Earth.
“Was this Vanessa injured by a wild predator before this picture? A bear perhaps?”
This caused Joseph to giggle slightly before responding.
“No. England is rather safe, it’s not like bear attacks are a regular risk. No Vanny has a long term condition. Myotonic dystrophy. Basically her muscles aren’t strong enough so need some extra help.” Joseph’s tone seemed to darken as he spoke, sadness replacing the excitement of before “It’s why they stayed on Earth. Stronger gravity here, probably not a good mix. I only came because mom convinced me not to give up the opportunity on their behalf.”
I could see the emotions etched into his face: worry, guilt, fear. These sparked my own similar feelings, knowing that in my own small way I had contributed to why the human who was careful with me was in such a state. I didn’t want to ask the next question, but I knew I had to anyway.
“Have you had any news?”
“I should get some soon. With London and Glasgow getting hit, federation forces running around and just the general clusterfuck that is Earth, checking on a shelter that’s out in the countryside hasn’t been a high priority. The things are designed to hold people for years, so anyone who got to a shelter has just been bunkering down while everyone else gets control of the chaos.”
Joseph gave a sigh, before perking back up again in almost a forced motion.
“Anyway, enough about that. What’s Nishtal like?”
Bad memories. Pain. Loneliness. Filled with genocidal assholes who would hurt this human for nothing more than just existing. Still I gathered it wasn’t the answer that Joseph was looking for.
“Warmer than here, a lot warmer. Lower gravity as well which makes flying wonderful, soaring for miles on updrafts. Mostly marsh land apart from near the equator, which is this network of hilly rocky canyons”
Nishtal had become a hot topic on the human FederationColdCases site, after Joseph had uploaded the details of my fathers now presumed murder. It being the only exterminator case from Nishtal had caused a lot of interest in solving the case, although most humans had hit a dead end simply due to the lack of access to information on Nishtal: Communications with Venlil prime had been cut months ago.
“While a few groups live in the marshes and hillsides, most of us live in the giant sky cities that line the sky. Massive chunks of rock suspended through antigravity, atop which giant cities of glass and vines lie.”
I did miss it, at least a little bit. I liked Venlil prime, I liked the Venlil, but there was something about the way the sun hit the horizon just right each morning that created a sight just like no other.
“Sounds awesome!” Joseph's enthusiasm dripped from every word. “I know right now it’s not a possibility, but I’d love to visit, I’d love to just see everything the universe has to offer.”
Did Nishtal even still exist? In between the self-destruction of the federation and the Arxur attacks, was there even a Nishtal to go back to? I decided to ignore that question and just think of a potentially happier future.
“Only if I get to visit earth at some point!”
Joseph gave me a scratch on the neck, still grinning from ear to ear in a weirdly adorable way. It was strange considering a predator slightly adorable, but it was hard not to get sucked into his general enthusiasm for life.
“It’s a deal! Once all this stupidity has died down, you show me Nishtal and I’ll show you Earth!”
Against all odds I didn’t have to lie about my next statement, I said it with all the truth and honesty I could muster.
“I’d like that a lot.”
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I’ll be in Tucson, AZ towards the end of September and I’m thinking about hiking sections 10-12 (Reddington Pass to Oracle) of the AZT over 3 days, 2 nights. I’d consider myself fairly experienced, but I haven’t done much backpacking in the Southwest.
Looks like the weather will be hot and very dry with highs in the 90’s and lows in the 60’s at lower elevations; highs in the 70’s and lows in the 50’s at higher elevations. Any other weather conditions I should be prepared for?
Water sources sound sketchy depending on the day and weather. Planning on carrying 4L of water. I guess I’ll stop and fill up every time I see a good source since it seems difficult to reliably plan where to fill up next? I also remember passing a trough on Oracle Ridge during a day hike a couple of years ago that looked pretty murky. I’m thinking tablets and something like an MSR Sweetwater which has a pre-filtescreen and a float will be a better choice than a Sawyer Squeeze for water filtration?
There are a couple of campgrounds on the trail or close to it (Gordon Hirabayashi, Whitetail, Spencer Canyon) but are there better spots to camp along the trail in these 3 sections instead?
How are the rocks/soil for staking out a trekking pole tent? (or would I be better off bringing a free standing tent?)
Any other advice, stuff I should be aware of, or anything else worth seeing along the way?
Thanks all!

Angela Huth

Monday Lunch in Fairyland

​
She met him at a party somewhere. Noticed the decayed state of his leather jacket before his face. Neither heard the other’s name in the mumbling that goes for an English introduction. But they danced. When the music came to an end he said he was K. Beauford. The K stood for Kestrel. He liked it, but everyone else thought it so pretentious that he had long ago given up using it. Except his mother. And her name? Anna. O-oh, he said, giving the word two syllables. She thought, from his smile, it would have been nice to talk to him. But the music smashed into the room again, and he disappeared.
‘Saw you having quite a dance with K. Beauford,’ said Mark, driving home. They both sat upright in their lumpy marital car. ‘Met him once, years ago, fishing. He kept us supplied with the best white wine I’ve ever drunk. Called something like Annaberg. Never met it since. Cooled it in rock pools. Bloody marvellous.’ He smiled. Fishing memoirs always made him smile. Smiling made his moustache hunch up to brush the keel of his nose. Sometimes this would tickle, and he would push it down with a thick finger.
‘O-oh,’ said Anna.
Breakfast in their London kitchen. Perhaps three weeks later. Feeling, as always, of an indoor storm. Flurry of cornflakes. Thunder of fists on the table. Rain of splattered milk on chairs and floor. Years ago, as lovers, Mark and Anna had calm breakfasts. Years ago they would speak, and gaze, and pour coffee absent mindedly. Now, a child clutched a postcard in a sticky hand. Anna snatched it. For her. Picture of Buckingham Palace. Strange writing. Nineteen days to track you down, am no detective. Love K. Beauford. Oh, yes. Leather jacket. Pale as milk at the elbows. Fishing with Mark. Mark quite hidden behind The Times. Anna propped the postcard between two mugs on the dresser. If he hadn’t been so deeply into Bernard Levin she might have said something about it.
‘Get your coats on,’ she shouted to the children.
Next card three days later. Buckingham Palace from the air, this time. Would you consider lunch as my reward? Love K. Beauford. Hooting outside of the school-run car. Lost satchels. Running noses. Smudgy kisses. Mark’s baggy morning eyes dull with the promise of a hard day. All gone, suddenly. Alone with the silence of 8.45 a.m. This mess to be cleared before she could begin her own day. No immediate impetus, though. She sat. Dabbed at toast crumbs on the table, letting them prick her finger. Would she consider lunch? Yes, she would consider mere lunch. So innocent an event could not affect the order of her life. She had no wish for anything, ever, to affect the quiet order of her life. Its domestic tides, its familiar routines. Books for intellectual stimulus, flowers for pleasure. Small clinging arms for love, Mark’s good-humoured laugh for companionship. Yearly holidays for adventure, Christmas for excitement. Smug, perhaps, but orderly. Compared with so many, after fifteen years, happy. Untempted by the shoddy delights of extra-marital associations. Those who had vaguely supposed had been severely snubbed. But lunch, just lunch. The smallest of treats. Preceded, if necessary, by a lecture on the lack of future. And of course not a secret. I’m having lunch with K. Beauford, she would say to Mark. If she remembered.
The quiet of the house, daytime, rose up: bulbous, engulfing, warm. Only to be shattered at four. That clatter of footsteps just as silence could be borne no longer, its peace grown chill. Squealing bell. Rush for television and instant tea. The noise. The telephone.
‘I must have caught you at a bad time.’
‘Rather. Only by five minutes. Who is it?’
‘K. Beauford.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘How about Monday? That lunch.’
‘Yes. Why not?’
‘La Cuisine, at one.’
‘Sorry, I can hardly hear. La Cuisine?’
‘At one.’
‘Lovely.’
‘Bye.’
She had let the toast burn, felt no concern at the lack of peanut butter. ‘You’re so bloody spoilt, you lot. It’s Marmite or nothing.’ Unfamiliar puzzlement in their eyes. The whole weekend ahead – the smallest one in tears. Oh God, make up for it with an extra long story...
...Increase of the size of the Round Pond that Saturday. Mark’s kite entangled maddeningly in the trees. Hours till it was brought down. All absurd, such impatience. Just for lunch. Mark’s hands efficient on her body after his favourite braised celery and coq au vin for Sunday dinner. Things she hadn’t cooked him, come to think of it, for a long time.
Monday, noon, she thought she looked quite old. Brushed her hair to cover a lot of her face. Wore clothes she hoped might seem like ordinary Monday clothes. Paid for the taxi out of the housekeeping money, disloyalty shaking her hand.
K. Beauford sat in a distant corner of the restaurant. Its kitchen air. Strings of onions and garlic hanging from the ceiling, like unfinished chandeliers. He stood. Same leather jacket. Deep lines round his smile.
‘Hello, hello.’
‘Hello.’ Anna sat.
‘I thought I’d always send you pictures of Buckingham Palace.’
‘I wondered at their significance.’
‘No significance. I recommend the watercress mousse.’
‘I don’t know what I’m doing here, really. I’m not used to lunch. I never go out to lunch. You’re almost a blind date, aren’t you? At my age.’
‘Oh, do stop twittering,’ he said.
Very pale green, the mousse. White wine that tasted of grapes. Trout. Fennel salad. He said he lived far away, by the sea. Hardly ever came to London. Had a wife, mostly absent, to whom he would always remain a husband. So no need for the lecture. Relief. Such relief Anna’s hands sent her hair scattering backwards, revealing all her face.
‘At last I can see you,’ he said. ‘Scrutinise.’
Confused, she told him something of her orderly life. Very brightly. Made it sound desirable. Which it was. The children would be having mince at school now. Mince on Monday, so fish fingers for tea. Never imagining their mother . . . Mark at the Savoy with a chairman. Making an important decision. Never imagining his wife...
In the end she had not told him. Would later. Tonight. K. Beauford was pressing her to pear flan. She was not resisting, liking his laugh. A furry quality. He was telling of his evenings. Alone with his dog. Not a reader, but a maker of complicated model cars for his sons. No, he felt no need to see people. So long as lunch appeared at one, and dinner at eight. Orderly, too, you see. That was the way to keep going. Invent one’s own discipline to prevent floundering. Protect oneself from intrusion. Plant trees. Visit people’s lives. Resist indulging in explicitness. Catch the train you first intended to catch. Which was in half an hour.
No word of ever meeting again.
Orderly life quite intact.
Goodbye, goodbye.
Nothing to fear. The children wanting tea. Full of relentless instinct. Mama, why are you wearing that dress? She knew quite well his part of the coast. Yes, darling, now I’ll help you with your Geography. And after Geography, listen to news of Mark’s lunch. Glad you’ve come to that decision as last, darling . . . . No time to reflect. Seas very savage in winter down there. Dinner at eight alone with the dog. Postcard writer. Visitor.
Eleven days without a signal. Then third picture of Buckingham Palace by the second post. This one from an engraving, 1914. Have discovered the Whitlaws nearby are mutual friends. Possibility of plans? Love K. Beauford.
Possibility of what plans? The telephone, startling.
‘Hello, hello. Are you coming to the Whitlaws?’
‘What? I’ve only just got your card. I don’t know what you mean.’ Outside, movement of the one bare tree. In summer its shadows blurred the geometric shadow of the wrought iron gate. Any minute now the car would be drawing up, bearing children.
‘When are you coming?’
‘When?’
‘Couldn’t you make next weekend?’
‘Mark will be in Brussels...’
‘Someone can look after the children. Surely.’
The children. There they were. Scrambling out of the car. One school beret falling into the gutter. Anna waved, smiling, through the window.
‘What? Next weekend. I must go, I’m afraid. The bell.’
‘I’ll be expecting you.’
Apologies for keeping them waiting at the door. Exclamations at a cut knee. The arrogance of the man! The ridiculous nature of the summons. Of course, it was out of the question. Quite impossible. Where would the children go? She buttered their crumpets, full of love.
Mark, with the enthusiasm of the innocent, thought her idea a very good one. Nice to see the Whitlaws again and he loathed it down there. The children so pleased about going to their aunt. Plans falling into place with horrifying ease. For what?
On the long train journey she wondered. Just another lunch, perhaps. A long way to go for just another lunch. But no use speculating. In effort to remain calm, heart strangely beating.
The Whitlaws made no mention of K. Beauford for twenty-four hours. They were pleased to see her, pressed on her more food and wine than she cared for. The children rang her. She rang the children. Snow on the moors, forsythia in the courtyard. Mark rang from Brussels. Marvellous sun there, he said. But progress slow. Not back till Tuesday. Why had she come all this way to be without her children? Then it was announced: K. Beauford was coming to lunch on Sunday. Hadn’t they met somewhere? He could give her a lift to the train.
Sunday was dour. Unbroken cloud. Anna pulled her belt into its tightest notch. She felt thin.
K. Beauford was punctual. Talkative. A bit wicked.
‘Having discovered we all knew you, the next thing I hear is you’re down here. It’s an awfully long way to come for a weekend. Isn’t it?’
‘She’d come any distance to stay with us,’ said the Whitlaws.
They left after tea. Late sun through a flurry of snow. Drove over the moors. In silence. Then K. Beauford said,
‘There are all sorts of fairyland, you know.’
His car skidded through the thick gravel of his drive. In the snowy dusk, giant clusters of weeping copper beech trees. Indeterminate parklands.
He led her through outer and inner halls. Dark pictures. A room whose crimson silk walls twitched with firelight. She sank on to a broken sofa. Its stuff scratched the back of her knees. He pulled the curtains against huge panes of black snowflakes. Muffling a church bell.
‘We can have dinner and I’ll put you on the sleeper,’ he said.
They explored the cellars. Gloomy stone passages veining the foundations of the house. Hundreds of bottles of orderly wine, dust obscuring the labels. Strong rooms of polished silver chalices. Crates of yellowing books, first editions waiting to be sorted. Kitchen tall as a barn. Old-fashioned black range. Mixing bowl and pile of chopped onion on the huge wooden table only signs of culinary activity.
Dinner at eight. The gong as the hall clock struck. Two places at the far end of a long white-clothed table. A silvery butler who poured Mark’s remembered wine: Annaberg.
‘I don’t know what I’m doing here,’ Anna said.
‘Three postcards then a visit. That seems to me the proper order of things.’
‘Do you eat like this, every night, by yourself?’
‘Of course.’
‘The table laid like this? The candles?’
‘How else?’
‘It seems so odd, these days.’
‘Have to keep things going. There’s not much of it left.’
‘Kestrel Beauford,’ she said. As if trying out the name for the first time.
‘Silly whim of my mother’s, really.’
‘K. Beauford. I don’t know what I’m doing here.’
‘You keep saying that. I suppose you ought to be at home with your husband and children.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’re not.’
They drank port by the fire. Wine red against fire red against red of silk walls. All reds confused. Billy Paul singing.
Me and Mrs Jones
Have a thing going on...
One hour, she was thinking, till the train.
‘Alternatively,’ said K. Beauford, ‘you could go back in the morning. Or the afternoon. Or tomorrow evening.’
‘Quite impossible.’
But there she was making telephone calls. Very calmly. To Brussels. Quite right, you stay on, said Mark. To the aunt. Oh, very well, she said. No, it won’t be much of a bother. The children are quite happy. Elaborate stories. Everyone believing her. Guilt dulled by wine. Wine making the stories of her life quite funny, so that K. Beauford was laughing in his endearing fashion. Hand stretched out towards her. But at rest on the crumpled sofa. As if frozen on its journey.
Very late he showed her to a cold room. Switched on the one-bar fire. Double bed with icy sheets.
‘Only three postcards and here I am. What am I doing here?’ she said.
‘Do stop asking that question,’ he said. ‘You can go tomorrow on the five-thirty. I promise.’
‘You promise?’ she said.
‘I absolutely promise, my love,’ he said.
Five-thirty. On the train in the stuffy carriage. She quivered. Next to her, cartons of farm eggs, pots of Devonshire cream. He had given them to her. Saying: for the children’s breakfast. She would explain they were from the Whitlaws. The train jerked, moved forward. Dark bare platform where moments ago K. Beauford had been kissing her goodbye. I shan’t wait and wave, he said. And had not mentioned when, or if, they would meet again.
Oh my love that wet and shining winter beach the sandpipers pecking at the frills of sea you said they were sandpipers I didn’t know and you said quietly now if we go quietly we won’t disturb them and we came so close before they flew away a small bush of wings in the grey sky urged higher by their own cries of alarm and me with my arm through yours absurdly bulbous in a puffed anorak of dreadful tangerine so out of place I said on this empty shore shouting against the wind so you could hear and laugh and feeling you shorten your step to coincide with mine....
All well at home. All pleased with eggs and cream. Stories of the aunt. Stories of Brussels. Scarcely a thought for her weekend. Thank God. For it hung, indelible, a double image upon her daily life. Which had resumed its normality so fast. Only, within, the orderliness had flown.
Impatiently she waited. Afternoons were worst. Then, in the silent house, the churning mind that nothing could divert. Fear of going out for fear of missing the telephone. The pacing, the trying of all the old familiar chairs. Mind a visible thing in the mind’s eye: a yellowing ivory ball as carved by the Chinese. Intertwined rats of miniscule teeth and savage eyes. Twisting, turning, never still, gnawing at the memories. You’re very thin darling, Mark said. Never usually noticed such things. And you’re restless at night. Can’t sleep? What’s the matter? Concerned eyes. Oh don’t be so silly, she said, hating his hands. And in the morning shouting at the children.
Because you are far away by the sea in the private ocean of your park knowing that lunch is at one and dinner at eight and your dog will sleep by your bedroom fire and you plan the planting of more melancholy trees and spray silver paint on to plastic motorbikes and maybe sometimes think of me though you didn’t say you would you said in fairyland the figure is there all the time unconsciously conscious if you like you said K. Beauford why don’t you ring me?
Complications of infidelity unimaginable to those who have not experienced them. He rang too late one evening: Mark’s car drawing up outside. So she sounded terse, bright. Yes, tomorrow, three o’clock. No, not here. Not possible. She would meet him somewhere. Put off the dentist and the meeting with the headmaster. Mark asking for ice. Nothing, nothing of the days that had passed. I’m coming, Mark, with ice: her voice almost a scream.
And terrible hours, fighting for calm. Till she met him in a dark wine bar in the Kings Road. His jacket black with rain. They watched its streamers liquidise the windows. Stabbed out cigarettes in a plastic ashtray. Arms touching, and their thighs.
‘When are you coming again?’ he said.
‘I can’t really come again, can I?’
‘I hope you can and you will,’ he said.
‘It would be so difficult, another time. The plans. The lies. I’m not very good at the lies.’
‘Divided worlds,’ he said. ‘We should all have our divided worlds. They shouldn’t conflict, or be hard to separate.’
She laughed.
‘Do you find that easy?’ she asked.
‘Well, yes, I do.’
‘You’re lucky,’ said Anna.
‘I mean, visits to fairyland are nothing to do with anything else. If you plan them right they can go on for ever and ever. Just things to look forward to, and to look back on. With tremendous excitement. And pleasure. Aren’t they?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She had to agree. Couldn’t explain.
‘Well, it’s up to you,’ he said.
‘I’ve seen it happen so often. When people start this kind of thing,’ she said. Trying. ‘It’s the stuff of divorce.’
‘It needn’t be,’ he said. So easily. ‘It’s only difficult if fundamental, impossible changes are visualised. Best only to think of the good, possible times. Within their limitations.’
‘The strength of you,’ she said.
He drove her home on the back of his motorbike. Nose in his wet hair. Arms round his shoulders. He kissed her without heed by the front gate. Said she smelt wonderful in the rain. Some kind of flowers. And he’d be in touch. Exhilarated by such parting news, tea with the children was a lovely time. Mama, you look so happy today, one of them said. But such wet hair.
Well you see that’s because K. Beauford insisted I should ride on his rusty old motorbike in all this rain dodging the buses I thought death every time smelling the earthy smell of his hair shouting into it be careful for God’s sake I’m the mother of three children and now my love my love not many days will pass before we’ll speak again...
Next postcard of Buckingham Palace behind the Victoria Memorial. From somewhere in Wales. Am writing this in a bus shelter. Two days later – sorry I forgot to post it. Will ring Tuesday morning, much love K. Beauford. Much, Anna noted. Before it had been just love. Much love, and by now the destructive forces of infidelity crowded in all about her. Her family all strangers. Resentful of them. Resentful of their needing her presence. Their demands so irritating. Their puzzled eyes sniping her guilt at her own unfriendliness. Nothing was but what was not. Lady Macbeth’s undoing. The house itself was an insubstantial thing. Tiny flaws in the fabric of daily life. The clear picture, familiar for so long, shattered. A private mosaic. It couldn’t go on. She couldn’t survive it: Mark’s appalling tolerance. The children’s constant forgiveness. The sleepless nights. Where had all the orderliness gone? Quiet content? Precious habit of unexciting love? All she had thought she wanted. Could never return, now. Not in the same way.
In the silence of a dun-coloured afternoon Anna stood by the tall windows of her house, fingers hunched up like spiders on the cold glass of the panes. Blasted, her life. Inadvertently, she had let it happen. Linen cupboard disorganised. Deep freeze empty. Husband and children squeezed by the rats of her mind to a faraway place. No longer of prime importance.
Rain. It began to rain on the leafless trees. Falling silent on the square of plantless London earth she liked to call her garden.
Oh I’m not as strong as you K. Beauford at dividing worlds perhaps because I love you and that’s where it’s all gone wrong though you must never know but in the spring I’ll visit you again and we’ll send postcards of Buckingham Palace for years and years until we grow old and calm and the visits between our separated worlds can’t unground us any more. But oh, my love, can that ever be?

X1 arrived at Lothal with a lightsaber on his belt, and set up his office with a training droid similar to Thrawn. On his desk lay a case containing 4 sith holocrons, a holocommunicator, and a small black cloth. Most of what was inside contained teachings about bladework, blaster bolt deflection, combative abilities in the Force, and mental shielding. One day, Thrawn came to X1's office and offered a joint training session. The two sparred hand-to-hand and X1 knocked him to the ground to the Chiss's surprise. Even when the blue skinned officer pinned the Secret apprentice to Vader on the ground, he felt a sharp pain in his nose and felt the wind escape his lungs. Both stopped fighting after that and began to rest.
With the Wookiee that stowed away on a YT-1300 freighter, he found a human smuggler with his blaster pointed in the direction of one of his hidden panels. The Wookiee began walking towards him and the shorter human almost froze up but then began to tell him that he spoke Shyriiwook. The towering carpet stopped before him and the human introduced himself as Han Solo. He then listened to the wookiee as they were walking to the common area of the ship, learning that the carpet that stowed away on his ship was Chewbacca and that he needed to find and join this large rebel movement in the galaxy. He even flexed about the encounters he has had run-ins with Jedi.
Han: Jedi? Was that who just caused that huge explosion?
The bandolier clad carpet replied with a series of roars regaling the exact jedi he had come across, especially the Jedi that took down Imperial walkers by himself.
After the duo left the wreckage, another wookiee had begun constructing his saber. He overheard the conversation between Starkiller and another blind man and knew he had to make his story known to the rest of who they were taking orders from. The wookiee then began freeing more of his brothers, sisters, and friends from Imperial slavery, wielding his new emerald blade, and searched for a shuttle to make his case to the larger rebel cells.
Back on Mandalore, the Rebels, clones, and Jedi there received a distress call about Bail Organa's capture. Some offered to stay, but others decided to leave. Kanan, Hera, the Bad Batch, Obi-wan, Ahsoka, Rex, Massiff Squadron, then made plans to leave, but heard that Sabine, Ezra, and Luke wanted to stay. Bo-Katan had seen stuff like this before where people who promised to help her then abandon it for another problem. This made her lose confidence in the Jedi and the larger rebel alliance. Sabine, Ezra, Luke, and Gregor figured they needed to stay because of the threat ahead. Kanan, Hera, Rex, Obi-Wan, and the Bad Batch knew they had to leave due to the other missions.
Bo-Katan: I can see why you left.
Ahsoka: A couple of them were my old friends. Staying to help in this effort to free Mandalore once again is my penance for bringing the clones here.
Bo-Katan: No, it was my fault for asking for them to be brought here. Are you sure that the clones here are not loyal to the Empire?
Ahsoka: From what a clone told me, The Empire is taking recruits from across the Galaxy and phasing out the clones. I've worked with these rebels and clones before, if you are worried about them. The commandos from what I heard have deep respect for your culture.
Bo-Katan: We'll see how they stack up.
Back with the Rogue Shadow, Starkiller felt betrayed by Kota due to the limited amount of information he gave him. The two former rivals had an intense tiff about Kota's contact before deciding their next mission.
Starkiller: Kota! Who was she?
Kota: Princess Leia Organa. Her father is Bail Organa. Her rescue is important to the Alliance for the future against the Empire. Your deviation would've sacrificed her, and my contact would've stopped you from joining us.
Starkiller: I just liberated his DAUGHTER on a planet swarming with STORMTROOPERS!!!
Kota: We can't get to him, because I can't FIND him!!
After Kota calmed himself after remembering the mantra, he surrendered the information about his capture.
Kota: After I lost my sight, he went in search of another Jedi, either Master Shaak Ti, or Mace Windu. When he landed to find them, his detail was wiped out and he was captured. If I remember what Master Windu said in his call to me, I think we need to head to…
Starkiller then remembered the names of the Jedi Kota said and remembered that he was the one that killed them as he kept swimming in those memories, he unknowingly uttered where they were hiding.
Starkiller: Felucia.
Kota was astonished at how perceptive the boy was. This only lasted a small while before the mission took the forefront.
Kota: Impressive, boy. Being able to sense MY thoughts?! I've only seen a few Jedi and other Force users use this ability. Anyways, now we know where to find him.
Starkiller: Thanks. Let's just get to Felucia. Juno?
Juno: Say no more. En route to Felucia.
On the surface of Felucia, Bail is then tossed a raw carcass for food by the fallen zabrak padawan. Bail then made another attempt to reach Maris as he knew her, although to no avail.
Bail: Why keep me here, Maris?
Brood: You are just a bargaining chip if the Empire finds me. Now shut up and eat!
Bail: Doing this won't put an end to the Empire.
Brood: Be careful with your words, Senator. My new pet is very hungry.
After Starkiller exited the Rogue Shadow and began fighting the Imperials and Felucians alike, Kota had something on his mind that he had to discuss with his old friend. He then went to a private section of the ship and made a holocall to Master Imwe about his suspicions.
Kota: Chirrut, Do you copy?
Chirrut: Kota. Glad to hear your voice. What's troubling you?
Kota: I found another Jedi. Significantly more powerful than X2. He was able to sense my thoughts.
Chirrut: I sense you are not at ease with this.
Kota: I began peering into his mind as well as the pilot's and from what I could find, they have been to Felucia before. What their involvement in Felucia was, I can't be certain.
Chirrut: If he is capable of the feats you have regaled, with a heart comitted to the light, he will make a fine addition to the rebellion.
Kota: I had do be sure. Thank you, old friend.
Chirrut: Remember, Rahm. “I am one with the Force, The Force is with me.”
Kota: My connection was cut.
Chirrut: You’ll get it back. I promise.
Kota: Alright. I’ll do it.
Back on the ground, Starkiller made his way to the rancor graveyard and found Senator Organa. What awaited him was someone he didn’t expect to remain due to their presence in the force being hidden from his and Vader’s prying eyes.
Starkiller: Senator Organa? Master Kota sent me to rescue you. I have a ship waiting near the abandoned Sarlacc pit.
Bail: You must be the one who rescued my daughter on Kashyyyk?
Starkiller: Yes. We don’t have much time. Let’s go…
Bail: Right. Sorry, Shaak Ti’s apprentice has gone mad from grief and captured me as a ransom for the Empire…
Starkiller: This whole blasted planet may have gone insane as well.
Maris: Oh, we’re not crazy. We just tasted the power of the dark side.
When Maris fist spoke, Starkiller and Bail looked to where the voice came from and the undercover adept activated his sapphire blade, and the female Zabrak appeared from out of nowhere using her Force Cloak ability.
Starkiller: Stand aside, girl. I really don’t want you hurt.
Maris: You won’t. He won't let you.
She motioned to a large beast behind her which she had mentioned was her "pet." As Starkiller tried attacking the beast and fending off its trainer, Bail tried to find a safe spot to hide as the force adept and bull rancor fought as hard as they could. When the grenade in the force lifted the large creature with the force and slammed it in the ground, the ground began to cave and Bail had to run for the outer edge of the newly formed pit.
Maris leapt into the hole after the supposed jedi defeated her pet and used her additional rage to attack him and use her ability to cloak to catch him off guard. Sabers of sapphire and twin crimson clash briefly before the female Zabrak seemingly disappears. This clearly became monotonous and tiresome for both and one of them had to change the pace of the duel. When Starkiller predicted where the young Zabrak was going to appear, he landed a back kick to her stomach and attempted to stab her in the abdomen before she disappeared once again. When Maris threw her twin shoto sabers to the secret sith, but Marek did a double back handspring to avoid them and landed a small burst of Force lightning against her, stunning her for a time, before she disappeared once again. He then swung his saber behind her as she reappeared and she leapt and rolled over it. In her distracted state, she was thrown by a force repulse into a decaying wall. When she got up she slid into the secret sith and attempted to finish him with a reverse grip scissor slash, but Marek repulsed once again, suspended her in force lightning and in his next jump, he held her in a chokehold and threw her into the ground with a massive force push from the air. Starkiller then walked over to the downed zabrak only to be met with her yielding to him.
Maris: Alright, you’ve won. The Senator is yours. You don’t need to finish me.
Starkiller: You gave yourself up to the dark side and became its slave. I’d be doing this planet and the galaxy a favor.
Maris: I’m not to blame. Shaak Ti and Windu abandoned me here. This planet has turned evil, and corrupted me. Wait, I think you can save me. Just take me with you and I will abandon the Dark side for good. Please?!
Starkiller took in what the young Zabrak was saying and looked back at her with a determined look on his face. To Maris, that look told her all she needed to hear. With that, she ran away to another part of the planet that possibly had a ship left behind by the Empire to escape from.
Bail: That one… She reminds me too much of another young jedi who fell to the dark path. You shouldn’t have let her run free.
Starkiller: Free, Senator? The guilt that she now has will stay with her and be her prison, much like this planet, possibly, forever.
As The Rogue Shadow picked up Starkiller and Senator Organa, The mandalorians then began to formulate their attack plans with the remaining help that stayed to assist in their fight. Ezra, Luke, Gregor, Boss, Fixer, Gregor, Sabine, Ahsoka, X2, The Bad Batch, and Grey Squadron were ready to attack the Imperial base near the remains of Tsundari. Walkers were patrolling the base and lots of Imperial jet troopers were also patrolling the skies alongside their Clan Saxon advisors. Gar Saxon is in the main command center of the Imperial base and advising his younger brother Tiber to take command until he returned. Rook Cast followed him and was ordered to organize the Clan and prepare the ground defenses.
Gar: Rook, have the Imperial troops take up positions in the old high-rises at sniping positions and get the tanks and fighters ready for launch.
Tiber: Brother, the walkers are outfitted with the ultimate deterrent for any that oppose us and the Empire.
Gar: Excellent. When Caste finishes with the preparations, have her prepare teh walkers for deployment in the wastelands.
Tiber: Yes, Brother.
Rook: Those walkers, you told Tiber about, what will they do?
Gar; Let’s just say Wren’s daughter designed the perfect tool to keep the planet in line.
After Sabine, Ezra, Luke, Ahsoka, Zeb, and the clones made their way to Sabine’s old home, her mother, Ursa stopped the group and became shocked when she saw her daughter among them.
Ursa: Halt! State your business on this planet. The Empire won’t… Sabine? What are you doing here?! You’ve disgraced us by abandoning your studies!
Sabine: Mother, I left because what I was doing was wrong, the Empire was gonna use our designs to oppress people, and not just other planets, but our own as well!
Ursa: I do not see any merit in abandoning your studies, your family, and your home! Your brother had to do what he could to stay within good graces and join the fight. These Jedi aren’t welcome here either, since they brought the very first wave of Imperials to the planet.
Ahsoka: You don’t remember me, do you, Mistress Wren?
Ursa: I do not see any reason to, for my own safety as well as for the safety of my family.
Ahsoka: You may also remember Bo-Katan Kryze leading a resistance against a figure named Darth Maul.
After she mentioned the copper haired Kryze sister, Ursa then saw Bo-katan flanked by 3 more of her resistance group to further sway her away from the Empire. Bo-Katan further explained what would happen if she backed her group to liberate Mandalore and remove Clan Saxon from power. Ursa caved to the demands and began to follow the plan with an addition of her own idea.
Ursa: Since I need to remain in the Empire’s good graces, Let my clan be a series of sleeper agents to feed information until the time to strike comes upon us.
Kryze: Alright. It’s settled then. The Jedi will lead clones and parts of the loyal clans in a multi-pronged assault. When Gar Saxon makes his way here, one of us will challenge him to single combat and remove the Empire. Clan Wren will feed us information and reveal themselves when Saxon is vulnerable.
Sabine: Great, but who’s gonna challenge Saxon?
Bo-Katan: Apparently "The Force" is telling me that I can't do it and it has to be someone else. Your mother was hesitant about joining us, your brother has been a part of Saxon’s troops, The Jedi can’t stay behind and rule Mandalore, so that only leaves…
Bo-Katan then gave Sabine a look that told the artist all she needed to know. When Sabine realized it, she suddenly felt a huge weight on her shoulders. The stress began to build within the young Mandalorian rebel and her doubts were brought to the surface.
Sabine: Me?! I can’t be doing this! It’s my fault for putting my family in this situation! I can’t face them again and my mother has pretty much disowned me at this point. I feel sorry for my brother having to take the pressure, but I couldn’t handle all the pressure from the Empire, my mother, and the obligation to the planet that I was told I had.
Bo-Katan: No, Sabine, it isn’t. It’s Saxon that betrayed Mandalore by giving it to the Empire. He will pay the price for siding with them and turning the planet to glass.
After Sabine left the private discussion with the leader of the Night Owls, she returned to the Jedi, maintaining her facade of not being told about the weight that was placed on her shoulders.
Back with the Rogue Shadow, Senator Organa was returned to Alderaan and he resumed his work on forming the Alliance. Starkiller had also dealt with what it truly meant to be a Jedi in the lower areas of what was now called the Imperial palace that housed some old Jedi training programs, droids, and holocrons that Palpatine had missed in the early hours of the Jedi Purge and Order 66, as well as deal with bounty hunters holding the administrators and Senators hostage on Bespin. It took some convincing before one of the senators agreed to meet with Bail Organa in formalizing the Alliance. All Starkiller needed was a target that their newfound support could witness or hear about in order to secure their trust in fighting the Empire.
Bail: Thank you for your help with who we need in our alliance, but we need to gain their trust further before we can go forward with any more operations. Before we move forward with Mandalore, Lothal, and other operations, we need to secure more assets to our cause.
Kota: There has to be another target that we can hit, even if it’s a single planet.
Starkiller: Let me… meditate on that. I’m sure I can think of something. I’ll let you know before we go through with it.
Starkiller then pulled Proxy over and the pair went into the Rogue Shadow to contact his master. What the force-adept and training droid didn’t know was that Juno was discussing a minor topic with other pilots and when he saw Starkiller and Proxy enter the ship, and decided to see what was going on, only to feel betrayed by the man who rescued her from the IIS Empirical mre months ago.
Proxy: Master, he’s here.
Proxy then changed his appearance to that of Lord Vader, which was the first time that Starkiller asked for Vader’s help since he went undercover.
Starkiller: I trust you have received my message?
Vader: That is correct. From all I have heard, your mission goes well, my apprentice.
Hearing the last two words worried Starkiller, thinking that someone would’ve seen him and his cover would’ve been blown.
Starkiller: I’ve been recruiting others to my cause and other mutual entities have come as a result of it, but I need your counsel. These new allies seek a major strike against the Empire. Like you said, no small single act will convince them.
Vader: The Emperor rules galaxy-wide with a blanket of fear. There are some symbols of fear that need to be destroyed. One that I believe will serve your purpose is above Raxus Prime. The shipyard in orbit is your next target.
Starkiller: Thank you, m… Lord Vader.
Vader: Your feelings for your new allies are growing stronger. Always remember that you still serve me. I expect you to contact me soon. Do not wait too long.
As Proxy nearly collapsed due to the energy being zapped from his system, he was caught by Galen and expressed a sense of regret for taking Vader’s form. Starkiller shared that same sentiment that was very prophetic about how the former Anakin Skywalker felt about himself and who he was now. This moment was broken with Juno’s outrage at discovering Starkiller talking to Vader.
Proxy: Uh, Master…
Starkiller: Juno.
Juno: I was about to ask if you decided where to go, but it seems that you were already told.
Starkiller: Wait, the timing of this couldn’t be any worse! This isn’t what you think it looks like!
Juno: Don’t give me that sith-spit! You’re still loyal to Vader! Even after he branded me a traitor, tried to KILL YOU, you’re still his… his…
Starkiller knew the word she was about to say next and remembered something that the togruta jedi master he killed said to him moments before she gave herself to the Force.
Starkiller: His slave.
Juno: But why did you defy him to rescue me?
Starkiller: I needed a pilot that I could trust!
Juno: We both know that isn’t the reason. My being here isn’t due to my skills as a pilot. Sometime soon, you will hold the fate of this rebellion in your hands, not your “Master.” When you cross the bridge to that moment, just remember that I also had to leave everything I knew because I had no choice. Please, don’t make me leave a second life behind.
Juno then went back to work along with Alliance command near the bridge and Starkiller then realized the weight he had on his shoulders for this large portion of the rebellion. He then knelt and released whatever emotion he could and shed a couple tears, thinking about all he had built being destroyed by Vader and the Empire. He also thought about everything Juno said to him moments ago. In his feelings, he found that she was right about why Juno was the first person he rescued. It wasn’t only for her skills as a pilot. It was a deeper connection to her that he wanted, this was the first person he had ever fell in love with and he wanted to tell her, but given the conversation he had, he knew the time wasn’t right. As the now conflicted force-adept had to decide where he truly stood in the galaxy, tears then began to dry up as he prepared to present his mission to Raxus Prime.
Bail Organa, meanwhile, was contacting every cell he could get in contact with orders to postpone their attacks across the galaxy until their declaration of rebellion was made official.
Bail: All cells active on other planets, please postpone your attacks because our declaration of rebellion is approaching. All prominent figures from each cell report to Corellia for the signing.
Once the message went out, Ahsoka had to bring the News to Bo-Katan that she, some of the clones, and X2 had to leave for the signing on Corellia. Sabine, Zeb, Ezra, Luke, the Bad Batch, and the commandos stayed to make sure that the plan was still in play, but everyone was required to be in their positions. After Ahsoka got on the rebel vessel that landed near their base of operations, the 6 clone wars veterans left for Corellia. When they arrived at the planet, they saw Obi-wan, a few senators, Rex, Kanan and Hera. All that remained were the members of the Rogue Shadow.
The Empire had plans and occupations of their own they needed to maintain. Thrawn had made his way to Lothal and set up shop at the new Imperial reinforced garrison while hosting more Imperial governors like Ahrinda Pryce, Grand Moff Tarkin from Coruscant, and more. X1 had mainly oversaw the training of Imperial troops, organizing patrol groups, and assisting in the TIE Defender project that the Grand Admiral had tried putting forth to the Emperor. Crosshair had been reassigned to Jedha to handle the spy network that had cropped up from the streets of rix road on Ferrix, with rumors that a Jedi had been sent there to lead or support the insurrection.
After Starkiller fights through different Rodian scavengers and Imperial garrisons, he made his way to the mining station and began cutting through swathes of Imperial troops attempting to stop him from shadow troopers, EVO troopers, Jump troopers, flame troopers, to even Purge troopers that were part of the Dark trooper project. Before he made it outside and headed to the Ore cannon itself, Juno patched through to him with a weird status report.
Juno: Eclipse to Starkiller; We have a small problem.
Starkiller: Go ahead, Juno.
Juno: Proxy has left the ship. I don’t have any idea why.
Starkiller: Don’t worry, I do. Thanks for the advanced warning.
After finding the control panel to the elevator, he heard the sound of a lightsaber run towards him and when he turned around it was a Shadow guard, but he knew who it was. After blocking the strikes, he parried the pike away and blasted the figure with force lightning and a force push. After the figure got up, the image dissipated and Proxy stood back up.
Proxy: My onboard tactical computer after many simulations has presented that this is the best time to fulfill my primary programing. Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.
After Proxy then changed forms to Maris Brood, he then began to copy her style of fighting and deliver unrelenting blows to Starkiller, only to be countered and receive multiple series of attacks in return. After realizing one form didn’t work, he then changed to the form of Mace Windu to throw him off guard and remembered yet again Vader's warnings when going up against the amethyst blade wielding Master of the Order. As Starkiller slowed his movements and calmed his mind, he began to systematically cut through “Windu’s” defenses. After Proxy failed at another style, that of Kota’s, Starkiller then used his newfound knowledge to take down the droid posing as the old Militia general. After Proxy was beaten back, he changed to the form of the Shadow Guard once again, and replicated the Force Lightning burst and tried to stun him to no avail when Starkiller pushed the lightning back to him. Proxy knew he had to change into Shaak Ti to finally throw him off guard with the calculated strikes of form 2. After even the refined strikes failed to dismantle Starkiller, Proxy was knocked down again, and an exhausted Starkiller started to become annoyed with the droid that had been at his side for a decade.
Starkiller: Shut down, Proxy! There’s no one inside you that I haven’t already defeated!
Proxy: Give me some credit, Master, You haven’t been as aggressive as you used to be in months and I had to bring you back up to par. Also, I have one module that You have never seen. This was an enemy that I have stored for years! You’ll even see why Vader entrusted me with your training with the lightsaber.
Proxy then took the image of an old enemy of the Empire, former republic, and jedi order alike. Darth Maul. When the double bladed saber was activated, Proxy then continued with the Form VII attacks.
As Starkiller fought the mere visage of a sith that many the Republic and Jedi order of old had fought for years, his exhaustion was about to catch up to him. After falling back to his initial style of the hybrid of Niman and Juyo. After a long fight, Starkiller split the saber in two much like the real event nearly 3 decades prior and threw Proxy into the post and stabbed Proxy into the post with his own sabers propping him up. Starkiller then made his way to the primary ore cannon. After being told through the comms that the arrays needed to be overloaded for the angle of the cannon to destroy the station. After the arrays were overloaded and the ore cannon destroyed the station above, a destroyer from the Station began to investigate and find a lone Jedi at the nearly destroyed facility. Starkiller began to worry about the Force that came just for him.
Starkiller: Uh, Guys? One of the Star Destroyers from the station is headed right for me! I gotta get out of here!
Kota: You won't be able to get clear in time! You have to pull it into that cannon!
Starkiller: That’s a lot of sith-spit for a Jedi Master. Now, seriously, HOW DO I TAKE IT DOWN??!!
Kota: You're a Jedi, boy! As a great master once said, Size means nothing to you! Reach out with the Force and Grab shat ship, or die on this trash heap!
Starkiller: Juno, can you cover me from the air?!
Juno: I can do a few sweeps against some of the TIEs but after that, you'll be on your own.
After Starkiller continued to pull the ship into the cannon, the gravity of the planet had disrupted the engines and Starkiller tried to stop the massive crashing battleship, only to get out as fast as he could before being knocked unconscious in the wreckage. When he woke up he saw Proxy next to him and he began to get the debris off the both of them. Kota and Juno then found Galen and the droid within the wreckage and collected themselves. After leaving Raxus Prime, Bail contacted Kota, summoning the crew to Corellia.
When the Rogue Shadow landed, Kota was about to make contact with his old friend that was en route to Jedha. Starkiller used this to contact Vader in secret.
Vader: Your mission on Raxus Prime has left the Emperor most displeased. Excellent work.
Starkiller: The Emperor's enemies are still too scared to make themselves known, and I am just now earning their trust and faith. If they even suspect my actions in the past… all of it will be destroyed outright.
Vader: There is one last thing you must do before we face the Emperor together. If you fail, your new friends will die.
Starkiller: Alright, Lord Vader.
As Proxy reappeared from Vader's image, the droid then tried to shake away the supposed fatigue before reporting to Bail Organa to pose as Leia for the signing.
Juno: Are you sure you can trust him?
Starkiller: Despite any doubts he has, Vader won't compromise the mission. Where's the meeting location?
Juno: An old temple outside the city. There you'll have your portion of the Alliance. Now what is to be done with it?
Starkiller: Trust me here, Ok? I'm doing the right thing, for both of us.
When Starkiller arrived at the temple, he saw a larger turnout than expected due to the actual size of the entire rebellion as a whole. He saw clones, Jedi, a Twi'lek, senators, the woman and senators he rescued, and a rebel in clone armor, who looked out of place.
Bail: Now that everyone is here, we can begin the declaration. The time for diplomacy has long since passed. The time for action must now have our entire focus. If you are willing to lead us, Master Jedi, then we will join this alliance.
Kota: As will I.
Kota made his presence known in a cleaner look with his old armor repaired and the blindfold gone in favor of new transplanted eyes, although bereft of pulls and irises. This had surprised Starkiller a lot, seeing as the armor he wore was what he donned when they fought above Nar Shaddaa only months ago.
Bail: It is settled then. My wealth will fund the rebellion, Senator Garm will provide our fleet, and Mon Mothma, our soldiers. With you leading us, Master Jedi, we have the Force as our ally. Now, we shall make this an official declaration of Rebellion against the Empire! We vow to change the galaxy for the better, and one day the galaxy shall be free for all beings.
During the speech, Starkiller senses something is about to go wrong. After an explosion rocks the temple and snowtroopers file out making the presence of Vader and 2 shadow guards known. The clones took cover and fired upon the invading troopers, while Vader attempted Dun Moc on a larger scale.
Bail had a feeling that something like this would happen. Leia wasn't truly present at the conference because Proxy was using her image while she was en route to Lothal to negotiate with the Empire to let the trade lines be released so Lothal didn't have to end up like Tatooine or Nal Hutta. As Vader stared down the Jedi, Kanan tried to bring Hera and fire up the Ghost but a lucky stormtrooper bolt caught her in the shoulder and she was too injured to get on the ship, but Kanan knew that Hera could survive and despite his attempts to get her on board, Chopper nudged Kanan and told him to get on. Hera and the Senators were being brought back to the Imperial landing site, but Vader and the two Shadow Guards that accompanied him handled the rest. Vader knocked out the clones with the Force and made his way to the three faces he never expected to see again.
Obi-Wan: I've heard about you. You will not be hunting down any more Jedi.
Ahsoka: Your reign of terror is over.
Rex: I'm glad I didn't serve under you when the Empire took over!
Vader: You see, I have served the last war with all three of you before.
Obi-Wan: What lies will you tell us next?
Ahsoka: I don't know, but his signature in the Force seems… familiar.
Vader: Now… THIS is where the fun begins…
Vader then activated his blade to see the shock on all three of their faces when they began to realize who they were fighting.
Obi-Wan: No. It can't be…
Ahsoka: A… A… Ana…
Rex: General Sky-
Vader: Anakin Skywalker has long since died. I am all that remains.
Rex's arms carrying his blasters began to shake at the realization of who he was aiming at. He let a few shots ring out before Vader deflected them back into Rex's shoulders. Kenobi and Tano then charged the Sith Lord with 1 sapphire and 2 pure white blades clashing with crimson.
Vader: You have done well, my apprentice.
Starkiller was in the midst of a fight with one Shadow Guard before using his rage to cut down the guard and charge towards Vader. Bail looked at Starkiller with a look of disgust and Kota had begun to realize what happened on Felucia a few months ago.
After the Shadow Guard defeated Kota, Vader sent his two former friends flying with a force repulse and began clashing with Starkiller. After a quick series of clashes, Vader threw him near the edge of a snow covered cliff and stood only mere yards away from him.
Starkiller: YOU AGREED TO STAY OUT OF THIS AFFAIR!!!
Vader: I lied, as I have all along.
Starkiller was then raised into a Force choke and asked,
Starkiller: Do you even plan to destroy the Emperor?
Vader: Yes, but not with you, no.
Starkiller: Without me, you will never feel free.
With that Vader releases Starkiller but when he landed on the ground he fell backwards off of the cliff and landed on his back in the deep snow. Before leaving he encountered what looked to be Anakin Skywalker, but Vader figured out that it was the very droid he modified with the Darth Maul simulation nearly 3 decades prior.
Anakin: As Master Obi-Wan said, you've become the very thing you swore to destroy.
Vader: You will not deceive me with my own weakness, droid.
As the two briefly clashed, Vader won out by disabling Proxy's legs, and throwing him down the same cliff as the image disappeared. With Kota, the Senators, and Hera captured, the Alliance was almost destroyed before it even began, but Starkiller woke up to see the Rogue Shadow hovering above and Juno dragging his body on the loading ramp. When he woke up, Juno had a blank look on her face and when Starkiller replayed the events leading up to his fall, he began to sink into his chair and brought his failures to the forefront.
Starkiller: They're… gone. Vader. H-he took them all.
Juno: I know, but why? All those Imperial targets, why would he just let us destroy them all?
Starkiller: To sell the deception. Credits, Imperial lives, starships, Vader doesn't care about any of that. He needed me to find the Emperor's enemies, no matter what it took. And I did everything he asked of me.
Juno: I know. Now, what are you going to do about it, since the rebellion’s fate is in your hands?
Starkiller: We’re going after Vader, and rescuing the rebels.
Starkiller then realized that the stress he was under wasn’t going to assist in his search for the members of the alliance. As he slowed his breathing and heartbeat, multiple items began floating in the air to Juno’s shock and amazement.
Juno: What are you doing?
Starkiller: Meditating. Sometimes doing this lets Jedi see into the future.
Juno: How many times has this happened?
Starkiller: I haven’t been a real Jedi before, so this is the first.
After seeing a group of people being lined up for execution in an environment that looked like a night sky, some of the floating items around the ship began to fall to the floor. Starkiller then woke up from the dreamlike state and calmed down as Juno pressed him for answers.
Juno: What? What did you see?
Starkiller: It wasn’t… a moon,... but a massive… space station.
When the Jedi, clones, and anyone who could returned to the missions that they needed to put their involvement towards, Obi-wan, Ahsoka, Rex, and Massiff squad returned to Mandalore to assist the removal of Clan Saxon and the Empire.
Bo-Katan: What happened at Corellia?
Obi-wan: Vader happened.
Rau: That machine found you all?
Ahsoka: Yes. The Senators were captured as well as one of the other Jedi that was there.
Bo-Katan: What about Grey Squadron?
Rex: They broke off to get information on where Master Kota’s student went.
Bo-Katan: You still have support for our effort?
Kanan: Yes, but General Syndulla was captured by the Empire.
Obi-Wan had realized that the stress of the assault rested on all of their shoulders and he needed to bring all of them to a united way of thinking. In his best Mando’a, he began to speak.
Kenobi: [Mando’a] I understand that you are being assisted by outsiders, and those who have brought Imperial oppression to your system. We are well aware of the past and the feud between our people. The Empire cares not for history, only creating and twisting it. Our cultures have a common enemy in the present, even though we were enemies in the past. As we fight alongside you, I hope we can remain friends in the future when the Empire falls. For Mandalore! May the Force be with you.
Many of the clans listened to the Jedi master who spoke to them in their native tongue, some willing to fight alongside their ancestral enemies to fight an enemy that persecuted against both, while others were very hesitant due to some of the Mando’a being either choppy or incorrect conjugations. Bo-Katan had reinforced what the Jedi Master had said and all of the clans had pledged their fealties to Bo-Katan and Kenobi.
Bo-Katan: We have our army to oppose Saxon.
Kenobi: Let's depose the Empire.
Back with The Rogue Shadow, Starkiller looks down from the landing ramp before assessing his plan, but Juno realized that if this was the last time she would see him, she needed to take some comfort in a last embrace that he would remember for the rest of his life.
Starkiller: Keep the cloaking device on and avoid their scanners.
Juno: I have a bad feeling about this.
Starkiller: Then maybe we're on the right track.
Juno: Will I ever see you again?
Starkiller: If I can get to the rebels, they'll be needing extraction. Given who I might face, probably not, no.
Juno: Then I won't need to live any of this down.
Juno then brings Starkiller into a kiss and pulls him aboard for an embrace that gets burned into their memories and they resume their parts of the mission.
As Starkiller begins fighting his way through Imperial Forces, Grey Squadron hails the Rogue Shadow and notifies them of a Recon mission.
X2: Rogue Shadow, this is Grey Leader. My squadron has volunteered to assist your rescue mission.
Juno: Copy, Grey Leader. Stay out of scanning range and watch for Imperial patrols.
X2: Copy that. Out.
X2 and Grey Squadron flanked around and attempted to find a constructed hangar bay. Their primary mission was to obtain any possible intel about the Death Star's construction and its progress. As Starkiller does his own Recon on the station while making his path toward the Alliance senators, X2 finds a conference room with a holorecording playing in the main table. As he saw the message, X2 realized that it could only mean one thing; his older twin brother is still alive, even after most of the clones were phased out of the Empire.
X2: Rogue Shadow, We got the information we need and we are en route to the hangar in about 5 minutes!
Juno: Alright, Grey Leader. Thanks for providing the Empire a distraction!
X2: No worries, Captain. Happy to help take down any Imperials in our way.
As Starkiller slashed, shocked, and repulsed his way through the Shadow guard and the other Royal guards that flanked him, he finally met his old master in a long halfway, leading to the Emperor’s viewport throughout the station.
Starkiller: Juno, I’m close. Vader’s nearby. I can feel it.
Juno: May the Force be with you.
During all of this, Kota and the Senators were bound in restraints facing the Emperor as he began toying with their fears and boasting about Imperial might.
Sidious: You all have been branded traitors to the Empire. You will be interrogated, tortured, it will be invasive for most of you. You will give us the names of your friends, allies, and co-conspirators, and then you shall die.
Bail: We will be but martyrs, should that occur.
Sidious: your very public, excruciating, invasive and traumatizing executions will serve as examples across the galaxy.
As soon as Palpatine lost his composure, a series of alarms went off. The captive senators and Jedi felt relief for a few moments before realizing what it was.
Kota: A Rebellion may happen yet.
Sidious looks to multiple screens and sees Starkiller on one headed towards the observation dome, and a rebel staring at a holorecording in the conference room. Sidious had to figure out something to deal with both of these threats.
Sidious: Lord Vader, deal with the boy. Send your closest Imperial Agent to pursue the rebels in the hangar.
As Starkiller continued forward toward the observation platform, he meets the figure that practically raised him.
Vader: You were well trained, boy. Such a shame we have to meet as enemies, but there is still much for you to learn.
Starkiller: I have all I need to know. Sending me to train below the temple was a bad idea on your part.
Vader: Your independence is at an end, as is your wasted life.

[SerSun] Serial Sunday: Jeopardy!
Time and distance seemed meaningless in the Rift. How far had she traveled? A hundred feet? A mile? And how long had she been down here? Thirty minutes? Three hours? Three months? Ellie felt herself drifting, disconnected from the rest of the world.
The monsters were real enough, though. They were getting bolder, edging their claws and snouts, and other less discernible parts, into her protective ring of light. She wished she'd brought another light source besides her magic - a lantern or a flashlight. Not that she'd had one to bring. Fortunately she wasn't using as much of her own energy as she'd worried she might. The ambient magic down there was surprisingly strong. But it felt strangely threatening, as if might lash out at her if she didn't handle it carefully.
Ellie could hear the creatures pacing and slithering, trailing close on her heels, lurking just in front of her, pressing themselves between her bright halo and the sheer stone walls. She clambered over a pair of boulders. As she reached the top, something swooped down at her, talons grazing her scalp. She flinched, lost her balance, and tumbled forward. In a panic, she flung wild bursts of lightning out into the darkness. Hisses and squawks erupted as creatures recoiled from the sudden light.
She saw them for just a moment before the lightning crackled out. There were so many. She'd told herself, as she'd imagined a horde of beasts filling the dark canyon like a rising tide, that she was being foolish. Giving in to terror-fueled flights of fancy. But their numbers exceeded even her fears.
A terrified whimper rose up in her throat and escaped before she could force it back down. A hush, almost a sigh, fell over the monsters. Then they growled louder than before. Ellie had the mad impression they were laughing at her.
She forced herself to resume walking forward. She tried to suppress her fright, but her hands shook and her legs felt like jelly. It was hard to keep her breathing steady. The creatures' tones darkened. Growls deepened. Whines turned to keens and howls. Pacing footsteps became erratic skittering.
A tentacle shot toward her from the shadows, wrapped around her arm, and pulled. Ellie screamed, struggling against it. She shocked it, but it didn't let go. She pulsed out a stronger lightning bolt, then another, and it finally relented, squelching back into the darkened recesses. She scrubbed at her arm, trying to wipe away the memory of its slimy touch.
Ellie could feel the ambient magic growing stronger with each step she took. It should have been encouraging, but instead she felt only trepidation. That made sense, in a chilling sort of way. Fear required imagination, too.
She remembered something her mother had once said to her and Gavin. “Fear is so much easier than hope. Our minds are wired to be wary of danger. To see the possibility of the wolf lurking in the dark forest, the likelihood of injury from a fall. Hope can give us the strength to walk into danger. Fear, though. Fear keeps us safe.”
Paxina had known it, too. “It's not all bad,” she'd said, when she finally began speaking again after days of wandering silent and ghost-like. “I'm not afraid of anything anymore. I can't envision the future, or the misery it might hold. I can't see ghosts and goblins in shadows.” She couldn't see beauty in the sunrise, either.
Fear and hope. Two sides of the same coin. Imagine the bad. Imagine the good. Possibilities existing in balance, the future teetering like a seesaw.
Another tentacle snaked around her neck and dragged her to the floor. Her fingers scrabbled at it uselessly. A long arm sank its claws into her calf. She kicked blindly, and it dug in harder. Something smacked her hip and stung like a scorpion's tail. Triumphant hoots and yowls erupted from unseen throats.
Ellie thrashed, unable to breathe, unable to break free. And if she escaped these three, there were a hundred more. This was the end. She'd finally taken a risk too big for her.
No.
The word cut through her mind like a violin note in a silent room. Eska's face flashed in her mind. She had to make it back to her. She'd promised. Tamas and Loren, too. They wouldn't want her to give up. Toby and the Watcher. Gavin. Her mother. People she loved. People who loved her. Memories danced through her mind like music. She'd felt alone before, but she wasn't, not really, not in her heart.
Lightning erupted from her. From her hands, her shoulders, her hair. It lashed out in brilliant ribbons, pinwheeling around her. Under the onslaught of electricity, the monsters let go of her, convulsing with pain or cringing at the light. Lightning arced through the canyon, bouncing off the walls, illuminating a hundred feet around her.
The monsters fled from it, crawling into crevasses, cringing behind rocks. In their wake, she realized she could see the end of the Rift. And a massive stone door.

Amelia: The Level Zero Investor
Gildroy Goldentooth took a look at his reflection in the water barrel. His golden scales were clean and gleamed in the morning sun. His teeth, sharp and canine, shone white in a winning smile. Truly, he was a good looking drakling, no two ways about that.
Still he took some time to rearrange his ornate vest and retied his tie. One could only make one first impression and Gildroy was intent to make the most of it.
Finally happy with his appearance he walked away from the barrel. Sadly he had to pawn of his last mirror to afford passage towards the small city of Whiteridge. The city had been awfully unlucky, as it had been attacked by the Miststorm riders, a notorious group of outlaws. Unluckily for Gildroy, but exceptionally fortunately for the town, someone was able to fend of the raiders. The drakling really could have used the infusion of cash the bounties would have provided.
Gildroy decided to walk to his destination, the village of Wolfwater. His wings were not only for show, but he disliked flying. One memory kept him often up at night: being late for a meeting with a potential client he took to the skies, but collided with a small flock of harpies. Coated in gore and feathers he certainly did not make a good first impression…
In an attempt to ignore the cringe Gildroy stared at the countryside. A surprising amount of homesteads were left intact, but many fields had been burned to ashes. That made his [Sense for Opportunity] tingle. The loss of a harvest would hit the grain market, thus raising the price of food. If the [Investor] could rustle up enough coin for an investment he was sure he could get a good payout. Something to look into.
Not long after Gildroy reached the farm belonging to farmer Nolan. It was a rather nice place and certainly very serene if not coated in the soot and ashes of the recent fires. A smattering of simple yet well maintained buildings were surrounded by many plots and fields, some burned. The fields were mostly orderly tilled, yet for some reason completely cleaned of ashes. Odd, everyone knew that these were prime fertilizer. On second look, some of the rows were very unevenly plowed. Wasn’t farmer Nolan one of the highest leveled farmers in the region? No, the more probable thing was that Nolan hired an utterly incompetent farmhand.
One would probably not imagine that the soon-to-be S-ranked adventurer Nora the Noble Sworddancer came from such humble origins, but Gildroy knew better. When they went adventuring together she had often talked about her home, her family and her little sister. All these tales had help soothe Gildroy’s own pain from not knowing neither his parents nor his broodkin. He didn’t even know any other drakling, as they were not native to the continent.
Gildroy knocked at the door of the main building. As he heard steps from the inside he fixed his posture. The back ramrod straight, the wings only slightly flared and tail firm on the ground. Humans were on the small side, at least compared to Draklings, so he wanted to look impressive, not imposing.
A young woman with mouse brown hair opened the door. She wore rather disheveled clothes and a tattered cloak in black and blue and an old rusty blade at her hip. Still Gildroy, being a well mannered half-dragon, took to a graceful bow. Well, as graceful as an almost 7-foot-tall drakling with wide wings could be.
“Greetings, young girl. I am Gildroy Goldentooth, [Investor] and professional adventurer. I seek my peer, the mighty adventurer Nora the Noble Sworddancer.”
The brown haired hobo gave Gildroy a flat look. “You are a talking lizard-person.”
Gildroy reeled back as if struck in the face. The audacity! ”Young lady. I must insist.” He gave the woman a stern look. “I am not a lizard. You see these big wings on my back. Would a lizard have wings?”
The brown haired girl continued her flat stare.
“I think not. What exactly do you want from Nora?”
Gildroy took a deep breath. Some people were just not worth the time to argue with. “Nora was a good friend of mine, who aided me when I was little more than a hatchling. We swore each other, that we would both make it to S-rank, but I haven’t heard of my dear friend for quite some time. So, if you know where she currently resides, please tell me and I shall be on my way.”
For a short moment the brown haired girl’s eyes flashed with something akin to grief or pity.
“I am afraid that I have bad news for you then. Norah the Noble Sworddancer is dead.”
Gildroy grasped the door’s frame as his chest grew tight. Norah, dead?
“That’s impossible! Norah cannot be dead!”, Gildroy exclaimed, but it was only weak protest. He had always wondered why he never heard any grand tales about his rival. Now he knew why.
“Mister Goldentooth, I know that this is kinda difficult for you right now, but I am currently cooking and I don’t want my hamburgers to burn up.”
The girl pointed out at the street. “Would you kindly leave?”
The girls slowly closed the door, but Gildroy quickly put his fancy boots in way of the door.
“You must tell me more about her and her demise. I beg you, Norah was quite dear to me.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Fine. Come in. I get her sister, Noelle. By the way. she too is an adventurer. Kinda took over the mantle as Norah died”
Amelia guided him through the house into a small, well decorated common room with a small kitchenette in one corner. At the dinnertable sat a girl with golden blond hair, sharpening her sword. In the first few moments he thought the brown haired woman had lied and the girl in fron of him was Norah, so similar did they look. Only at a second glance did he spot the differences, the nose a bit sharper, the jaw a smidge pointier.
Noele’s sword was an old thing made of iron, yet it was unmarred by rust or patina. Although the sword had some knicks and scratches and was probably reforged at least once, Gildroy could see that that it was wickedly sharp. He knew from experience that these swords were oftentimes far more dangerous than any magical sword or ancient treasure. At once Gildroy was certain that the woman in front of him was the same caliber of adventurer Norah had been.
Gildroy once again introduced himself to the blonde swordswoman and explained why he had come. He also learned the name of the rude brown-haired woman, which was Amelia. She promptly took to the kitchenette and begann flipping these so called “hamburgers”. The dish seemed to consist of a ground steak with some kind of tomato paste between two pieces of bread.
“If you are interested and want one, you’ll have to pay for them.”, Amelia said as he she noticed his look.
He noticed that his hands still trembled a bit and he indeed felt a little bit jittery. A small snack would probably do no harm. “These ‘‘Burgers’’ do smell quite delectable. How much is one?
“Five copper pieces.”, said Amelia whilst assembling one.
Half a silverpiece was a steep price. Gildroy stole a glance at Amelia’s tattered blue and black cloak. “Well, she does look like she needs the money..”, He murmured quietly.
“You said something something?”, Amelia asked pointedly. Gildroy shook his head profousely. Good hearing on that one, it would seem.
The hamburgers were quite delicious, so Gildroy asked for a second and the two more. Somehow that seemed to make the brown haired woman put on a smile, showing off her gross little stumpy plant-eater-teeth. Gildroy shuddered at the sight. Why must humans look so… wrong?
Anyhow, with a full belly he begun talking how he got to know Norah: “I was just a little drakling, little more than a hatchling. I stole the odd trinket here and a few copper pieces there. One day, though, I attempted to yoink the purse from a young golden haired adventurer. That was Norah. When she
caught me with my paws literally in her pocket she did something that no one else ever did: She didn’t beat me up. She didn’t rat me out to the city guard. No, she made me give back the coin, but allowed me to team up with her, and little old me got to enlist as an F-ranked adventurer.”
Gildroy wiped one of the tomato-sauce stains awy with his hankerchief. Odd how much that looked like blood. He let out a melancholic sigh.
“How did she die?”
Noele looked at something far into the distance. “She died in the Fallen Wyvern’s Keep, killing an A-ranked beast, an adult wyvern. She was only B-rank at the time, but her deed saved many adventurers in their expedition.”
Gildroy smiled, but it was a sad smile. That does sound like Norah. Killing these terrible thumbless abominations while being an entire rank below… A warm feeling filled the draklings chest, one that was usually reserved only to great monetary successes.
“Are you not… I don’t know angry that she killed the wyvern?” Noelle asked while blushing a little. ”I mean, wyverns are closely related to dragons and … well, you seem awfully dragonlike.”
“By no means. Would you be offended if an adventurer were to kill a goblin? Just because you people look so similar?”
“Gee, thanks for the compliment”, said Amelia flatly while fixing up another hamburger.
“Your are welcome. So, how did your adventuring career go?”, he asked Noele.
Noele had a proud smile on her face when she said: ”I recently reached A-rank.”
Gildroy too smiled fondly. “At that age! Your sister would be proud of you, I am certain of that. As your sister mentored me, it would probably be fitting, if I returned the favor to you.” Gildroy puffed out his chest. “I have been classified as an S-rank myself, so I could probably teach you a trick or three.”
“That is a rather nice offer, but-” she broke eyecontact. “I already have a mentor. Amelia here is my master and it was in large parts her aid that let me reach A-rank so quickly. “ Noele’s gaze drifted to Amelia, who started cleaning the pans. “But if master allows, we might be able to spar?”
Gildroy too gave Amelia a quizzical look.
“Sure. I wouldn’t mind you punching that oversized salamander in the mouth.” Noele beamed so brightly that Gildroy decided to spontaneously forgive the girl in her tattered cloak for calling him a salamander.
“Wonderful. Though I would prefer to wait for a few days, since I am currently in a bit of a rough spot, concerning my own fighting prowess. You see, as my class is the [Investor] I mostly use gold magic, and that isn’t easy on your finances.”
“How so?”, asked Noelle.
“Well, where most magics or skills either consume mana or have some sort of cooldown limiting them, gold magic has none of that. Instead the only limiting factor is the gold you have to spend to “purchase” the wanted effect, making all acts of magic extremely costly. Normally that is alright, as adventuring makes good money and my other businesses made even more on the side. Just now I am in bit of rough spot.”
“You can still pay for all the food you have eaten, right?” Amelia’s face was dead sirious.
“Of course I can pay.”, Gildroy lied without missing a beat.
“Good. Just wanted to make sure. But can you tell me more about your class. Maybe how to unlock it?”
“That is quite the tale, but I shall summarize it a bit: during my travels I have come across a mystical tome, some say it originated from another world. I studied the profound wisdom found within and used the exalted wisdom to build my own business empire. Thus I unlocked the mighty class of [Investor], which I then advanced towards [Truegold Enhancer].”
Amelia cocked an eyebrow. “You say you are low on cash, eh? So your vast business empire just disappeared?”
“That is just the way how things go”, Gildroy exclaimed maybe a tad defensive. “Look at Archon right now. No empire lasts forever and I already have a plan to make a comeback.”
“So what kind of things does an [Investor] do exactly? What kind of business did you run?”, inquired Noele.
“Oh, during my time I have spearheaded many a venture. For example I and a handful of other magic-users installed a large scale [Message]-network. You know, if want to send a letter from Windrip to Whiteridge you could have gone to our office.”
“That sounds like a solid idea.”, Amelia admitted.
Now it was Noelle’s turn to frown. “Amelia, you might not know this, but that kind of service is already provided by the most mage guilds.”
Gildroy showed his pointy teeth in a smile. “Well, I haven’t come to the really smart part: whoever mage transmits a set number of messages the fastest gets paid in a specialty currency we dubbed mage-coin.”
Amelia buried her head in her hands. “That sounds awfully familiar.”
“Doesn’t surprise me, we went all out on the marketing with that one. But the real kicker is still coming. Since we controlled the entire supply of mage-coin we could open unofficial second accounts with which we bought all the mage-coin we had in our main accounts. Basically bought it from ourselves for outrageous prices, thus inflating the value of mage-coin.”
“That sounds a lot like you were just scamming people?”, Nora half asked.
Gildroy felt his scales flush bright pink. “Well, in part because it is a scam, but as long as enough people believe in the validity of Mage-coin it still has value and is thus a great investment.”
“Yet there are many people you stole from.”, Noele said while intensifying her frown. “Don’t you feel bad for them?”
“First of all, I do not steal. Stealing is illegal and I am a law abiding [Investor], thank you very much. What I do is business. People hand me their money willingly and I just keep that money.“
“I am not sure if I am still interested in your class”, said Amelia.
“And I am no longer sure if you are still welcome in this house.”, added Noelle.
Gildroy grumbled a little. Without any money to supercharge his [Perfect Marketing Pitch] convincing people to not care about ethic considerations was truly difficult.
“Well, I do agree that some of my old business practices were a tad…. unsavory, but my newest venture is based on something universally good: education! I am willing to gift the world the knowledge of my class! For only a small fee, say 50 gold pieces, anyone can be initiated and unlock the class of [Investor]!”
Amelia begun massaging her temples. “And these new [Investors] would then in turn initiate new members? And these new members would then get repaid for their initial expenses through the initiation fee from the new new members?”
“That was the plan, yes.”
“And all these new [Investors] then pay some kind of fee or royalty to you?”
“Naturally. As it is my intellectual property it is only right that I get some kind of remuneration.”
Amelia sighed.”So your next great plan is to start some sort of a pyramid-scheme?”
Gildroy gasped. “How do you know?! Have you too been graced by the otherworldly wisdom? Are you too an [Investor]?”
“No”, Amelia said while shaking her head. She looked both awfully dejected and annoyed “But I would prefer if you could just pay for your food and leave.”
“Oh”
The frosty undertone in the brown haired girls words made him understand that this would be the last time he would be asked to leave in a somewhat polite fashion. Yet there was one last thing he had to confess.
“So about paying for the food….There might be a little problem.”
Gildroy shrank in his seat as the girls glare shifted from annoyed to angry to positivley murderous
“Do you accept payments in mage-coin?”
Amelia punched him through the wall.
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Hi. This here is my submission for the fanfic contest. I will upload two more chapters, probably tomorrow.
Sadly the original file was corrupted, so I had to rewrite the wntire thing. Thus there are still some imperfections (like the occassional rapid tone shifts and the MANY missing or superfluous commas).
I hope that I can still edit these parts later on.

This is my first attempt using this format to post a multi-chapter piece. I will post ever 2-3 days based upon the feedback received. The story itself is already written and finished, however, I do not wish to overwhelm readers with 20K word post all at once.
This is a writing break from my normal writing work on novels and for various creative enterprises.
Thank you for reading.
​
Memory Transcription: Captain Neil Campbell, United Nations ‘Black Watch’ Company #4
Date [standardized human time]: December 3, 2136
Campbell was looking over a dozen documents. Question kept cropping up between him and his men concerning their deployment. We aren't some military police unit or parade unit used to scare the boogie man. Why were we put out here? They had been on Tilfish for less than a week and still, questioned the deployment every step of the way. Many considered it that command was just short units after earth's bombing.
“Captain! Captain!” Neil heard his rank and recognized the voice. He turned his head, only slightly, enough to see with his peripheral who was calling. In the time he had been here, he and all his men had already learned the Tilfish were less skittish if he did not immediately snap his vision to them.
There were actually two individuals moving towards him. One in a black watch uniform with the distinctive red stripe across the blue UN helmet, one of his women. The other was a Tilfish, scrambling across with the insectoid’s legs to keep up with the sprinting human.
Neil turned around to get a good look at Staff Sergeant Zephyr. She was one the slimmer members of his unit and it was hard to not pick her out, she looked like she might weigh 50 kilos soaking wet and carrying a squad automatic weapon. She would still move faster than any soldier in his entire company if asked.
“Zephyr, this had better be good.” He stated, looking around the base camp they had established inside the caves. Some of their equipment was outdoors but most of it inside. He adjusted his kit and straightened his camouflage uniform.
For fucks sake, not sure how long I can really stand to deal with civilian affairs and this policing action at this point. This had been not be another complaint about seeing a predator only for them to mistake one of my men in camouflage doing a patrol. They really should have deployed the MPs instead of us.
“We have orders sir, we are supposed to evacuate immediately to the spaceport, they’ve been trying to raise us for almost a full day but the minerals in the mountains are interfering with any signal going out or coming in.” The sergeant extended a piece of paper towards Neil who took it and began to read it.
The transmission wasn’t decipher already and he had to analyze the words to parse them out.
“65 Million BC is coming, move with from the winds of war. The roof is coming down upon the walls as we speak.”
The captain got the message and nodded to his sergeant. He considered his next words carefully for a moment. Then it occurred to him the real reason they were deployed here. This had to be it. He looked up at his first sergeant, “No.” Was the only word he uttered.
The sergeant looked at him aghast, “Sir, we’ll be—”
“Sergeant, I am aware and I am also aware it will take six hours to get us to the spaceport and if they’ve been trying to reach us for days, we already lost too much time.” He turned to the tilfish, it took him a moment to recognize the details.
“Mayor Zim,” he started and she gave him a nod of acknowledgement. She was learning human gestures faster than expected. “Gather your civilians, draw lots for 100 of them and send them to the spaceport in our place. The rest, send them with us into the mountain caves we have prepared, the deeper the better. Any that can fight send to me.”
Zim stared at him aghast, “What? What are you—”
The Captain held up the message, “65 Million BC is code talk for the Arxur, move with means we’re supposed to leave. Winds of War is self explanatory. The roof is the fleet and the walls are us, that means the fleet doesn’t believe they can hold and wants us out. I’m ignoring those orders.”
He spoke with a defiance and zeal as his eyes burned with seething determination. It wasn't rage, Zim recognized that, it still terrified her to have a predator staring at her with that intensity and made her flinch in response. Zim recovered herself, remembering that this human had not said an unkind word to her since he landed. He had taken all of their complains with a kind of stoicism that made her question her beliefs about predators. Yet this, this was something else, like a primal anger that had lurked beneath the surface was stoked.
“Sir, are you sure our men will die for these with how recent earth was? I mean London is…”
Captain Neal laughed and leaned into Sergeant Zephyr, “I know you are a new Zephyr but, we are the Black Watch. Every single member will fight to the last breath. These are civilians and they surrendered to us; we aren't abandoning them to their fate. I'll give an option for everyone to pull out once they know I'm disobeying orders, no penalties.”
She nodded to him, “Spread the word, we are going to prepare defense in depth. Charlie platoon is to every AA, Orbital, and Anti-bombardment interceptor gun targeting and manned. We can’t hold it if those guns aren’t working and we need to know if the eggheads in the labs were right about using these new guns this way.” He moved to Mayor Zim and placed a hand against her mandible as she hesitated to move. Zephyr on the other hand was already sprinting across their FoB towards the communications building which was really just a tent placed over an existing cave with a large antenna sticking out.
“Zim, go, get your people, now. Sound your evacuation alarm, I’ll be right behind you with soldiers to keep order.” Neil started running with Zim to the nearest vehicle. "Zephyr! Sound the watch!" He called after her as he stepped into his rover to go collect civilians as fast as possible.
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Memory Transcription: Lieutenant Honnie Schmidt, United Nations ‘Black Watch’ Company #4
Date [standardized human time]: December 3, 2136
Lieutenant Schmidt was working on another transmission, it wasn't a UN fleet. She could also tell it wasn’t Federation. She was stout and heavy set, her black beret set the table next to her UN blue helmet. The dim light inside the tent reflected off the crest and its feather.
She pulled out her canteen and had a long draw of cold coffee mixed with whiskey. It burned her throat and left a bitter taste on her tongue in just the right way. Her mind getting a little inspiration from the mixture. The steel folding table gave a little wobble, she noticed it but couldn’t figure out the source or reason.
At least in that moment, she heard the boots running towards her and immediately reached for her sidearm. Her hand drifted where it could easily draw but not resting upon it just yet. Her other hand slowly closed the cap of her flask and reached for the knife on her belt.
“Lieutenant! Orders from the Captain, he said to sound the watch. Anyone he wasn’t taking with him is to start fortifying. Charlie platoon is to man the big guns and Delta platoon is to escort civilians.”
Schmidt turned her head and nodded to Zephyr while moving her hands away from her weapons, “That leaves… just about 100 of us to hold the line. Alright, tell Sims, Clemson, and Miller to report to me with every single mine, explosive, or napalm canister they have.” She grabbed the radio against her shoulder.
“All Black Watch, All Black Watch, now hear this, Fortress Protocol. I repeat, Fortress Protocol. The Watch if Raised.” She spoke with absolute certainty, her words booming out over the loud speaker as the air raid siren went off between her words. She put the message on repeat for the next three minutes. She moved to a map as the three people she ordered to report to her appeared through the flap covering the cave entrance. The dim light around them took a moment to adjust to.
“Clemson, gather whoever you need from Alpha Platoon and look at this here,” She moved her finger over a sector of the map. It was close to where they were. Their base was in a caldera, AA guns mounted on reverse slopes facing opposite so they could use the elevation for depression as well. This in addition to the big orbital firing cannons and the new Anti-Bombardment interceptors. The last thing was untested, developed in a hurry after seeing how the anti-matter bombs worked on earth and improvised mostly, mostly.
The advantage to their caldera, they had destroyed any paths or trails so anyone who would want in would either have to scale the mountain around them or through the 1 narrow canyon that led inside before diving into the mountain tunnels that they had been mining deeper to create improvised bunkers. Now they were understanding the orders from high command.
“Clemson I want this narrow pass a death trap, every meter a mine, barbed wire, pre-measured mortar lines, search lights, all of it. I want anyone who thinks they can brave it to make that their final mistake.” Clemson saluted and started to walk out, she stopped him, “Just Squads 1 and 2, we’re gonna be short on manpower.”She turned to Miller, the best engineer they had, “Miller, I need you to rig the entire caldera by 30 meter sectors. I want us to be able to blow individual sections and send an avalanche down the outside on anyone who tried to crest the peak.” Miller looked at her horrified for a moment and she stared at him, “Take the entirety of bravo platoon and tell them to triple time it, they’ve got maybe three hours before we’re gonna need to be entrenched.”
Miller nodded and blind, “I will.. See what I can do, I don’t know if we have enough explosives.”
Schmidt snapped her head up towards him, “Invent some.” She turned to the last engineer.
“Sims.” She started and he simply nodded. Of the three, Sims was the elder. He was nearly sixty and still serving. He held a cigar in his mouth, against regulations. Not that the Lieutenant would correct him. He was twice her age and she had no right to even question that kind of veterancy. If the Captain cleared it, she would clear it too.
“Ma’am?” It was a question as he shifted the cigar in his mouth to the other corner and brought his hand up to tap the ashes onto the ground.
“I take it you know what I want?”
He nodded, “I’m gonna need the diesel from our vehicles and a few hundred of the AA Incendiary rounds.”
“Take whatever you need, make sure every inch of the inner caldera is ready to burn and every fox hole can surround itself with flames without worrying if a spark will make it happen.” She nodded to him. “Dismissed.”
“This is Captain Neil,” the radio squawked, “Delta Platoon, you’re with me. Mount up and head to Tal-Reach, we’re going to grab every civilian we can. Every single vehicle we have is on this, tactically acquire any vehicle you can, we're gonna need them all." Campbell was mispronouncing the city Zim was mayor of but so did almost everyone among their unit due to their accents.
Neil was reading her mind, he knew that first and second would already be committing the labor and third was heading to get the guns trained, loaded, calibrated and manned. The rest of first platoon was with Schmidt, hastily digging foxholes, ambush positions, setting up hidden get away paths, and everything they could to form a defense.
Schmidt began to analyze their defense, what they could do with 100 soldiers and where she could shave another trooper from a position to make it operate at minimal functioning capacity. “Let’s see, 2 men per mortar instead of the normal 4; they would have to get it right. Machine gunners are gonna need ammo runners, how few ammo runners can we afford? What about grenadiers?”
She kept going over every little detail, nothing was lost on her as she recalled individual trooper weights, heights, proficiency scores, marksmanship scores, and normal operating tasks versus tasks they excelled at. Preparing the assignments to make their company feel like a brigade in strength.