The Sword and the Shield

[Gant Harvalle]

Being summoned to Dac meant your ass.

In an age where HoloNet communiques could cross the galaxy with reckless abandon, going through the trouble of actually physically removing one's self across entire sectors of deep space to put themselves in a room face to face with a superior officer meant you were either about to be drummed into early retirement, or 'promoted' to take too large of a bite of trouble to comfortably chew. And if you didn't chew it up and come back asking for more, you'd be coming back to Dac sooner rather than later. And if you did, well it was all circular. For officers of the Alliance Navy, that curious mix of anticipation and dread mixed with the smell of salt air and the pitter-patter of rain.

Captain Gant Harvalle's speeder car pushed through the last remnants of traffic that lead to the Naval Command campus. The steady drumming of rain outside mixed with the soft sounds of wiper blades pushing back the onslaught in the fore of the cab. Looking up at the sight for a moment, Gant lost his place in the book he was reading - some ancient retelling of one of the Mandalorian Wars. He took that distraction as a cue, putting the book away as the speeder car came to a stop. A cadet under the veranda of the Command building pushed forward with an umbrella at the ready, opening the door.

"Captain Harvalle, you're expected sir."

Holding the umbrella out for his superior officer, the cadet snapped a salute, which Harvalle casually returned. Closing the door behind him, the pair walked briskly back under the veranda, and headed up the stairs to lead into the building. Back under the auspices of some place dry, Gant dispensed with the umbrella, wiped his feet, and kept up his stride. There was no point in speculation now. Admiral Reshmar would put that all to rest.

[Reshmar]

The work of the Supreme Commander truly was never done. He grew tired of the constant meetings and questions put to him by any and all who needed or wanted anything from him. Give him the command deck of a cruiser over this new life any day. Though he grew tired and his day was dragging he had one meeting which he did not dread. Mixed in with all the politicians, lobbyists, and scientists he was to see today was one name he recognized, Captain Harvalle.

Reshmar put away his personal log and to out a data pad with Harvalle's record. he had been an excellent officer and served brilliantly at Duro. For that he would be rewarded. or doomed. Reshmar was starting to look on promotion as a bad thing now that he himself had tasted its bitter taste himself.

He typed in his pass code and the remaining information began to scroll on the data pad. He looked over the recommendations and evaluation log and smiled. He had promoted so many officers in his time, but few as competent as Captain Harvalle.

A buzz at the door sounded and Reshmar pressed the locking mechanism and stood waited for the door to slide open. He motioned to a chair set up across the desk from his and spoke.

"Come in Captain, Have a seat."

[Gant Harvalle]

Harvalle did as instructed. He'd been summoned, after all. The figurative gravity that surrounded such a thing tended to cause a man's knees to bend. As he met the chair, Gant did a quick glance , not enough to be a lookie-lou, but enough to get a sense of place. This was the first time he'd met Admiral Reshmar in a setting that wasn't suspended in deep space.

With Admiral Holt, he might engage with a little banter before brass tacks, but the experience he'd had with Admiral Reshmar told him to keep it buttoned down. Mon Cals were cool-headed and procedural, and if the military was good for one thing, it was that you respected the chain of command, even the informal frilly parts that sheathed the iron beneath.

The Captain waited for Reshmar to get to the matters at hand.

[Reshmar]

Reshmar waited till Gant sat then began. He looked over the data once more and took a copy of a transfer order from his desk.

"Captain Harvalle, First let me say how sorry I am about your ship. The damage sustained at Duro was too great for the book keeping politicians who now run that sort of thing to warrant her repair and recommission. Those decisions have been taken out of my hands now. Again I am sorry, she was a good ship. Now that we have that out of the way. The reason I have summoned you here today is that I have here before me a request for transfer for you from Admiral Holt. He seems to think you would fit in better with First fleet now that Third was in defensive Posture."

Reshmar handed Gant a copy of the order then tapped a few buttons on his pad.

[Gant Harvalle]

Reshmar's condolences brought Harvalle right back to the bridge of the Raconteur, listing and burning in Duro's orbit. She took the pounding of a lifetime from the Imperial counterattack and attempted circumvellation of the embattled planet, but held the line. Her shields ruptured, her engines were destroyed, and another few salvos would've cooked off their reactor. It was his first cruiser posting, and losing the Raconteur was hard. Harvalle would rather see her destroyed outright in the fight than to be picked for scrap.

No time for that.

Wetting his parched lips briefly with his tongue, Gant leaned forward to take the orders from Reshmar, taking effort to remove any trace of wistfulness or anger from his expression.

It didn't take his eyes long to scan over the orders before they snapped upwards at the Admiral in surprise.

"The Egality?"

The first Republic class Star Destroyer off the line, and practically the symbol of the Alliance's apogee to galactic power. Admiral Reshmar was asking him to control what was intended to become the tip of the spear.

Gone was the anger and wistful recollection of Duro, replaced with adrenaline and heady expectations. This wasn't just another posting. This was the posting.

[Reshmar]

Reshmar waited while the captain looked over his orders. He knew a new command had a way of blanketing the pain of losing a good ship. He himself had lost Three ships in battle Each still had a place in his heart. With a new ship came new options and choices. Officers, crew, support load out, These were things a captain had some degree of control over.

"Yes captain, The Egality. Your orders are to proceed to the shipyards above Hast and see to the final outfitting and crew assignments. Of course you may retain any of your old officer pool or chose from the non-assigned officers available."

Reshmar handed Gant a list of current unassigned officers. The list was extensive with so many ship's now being decommissioned.

"I expect you to have the Egality crewed and ready for shakedown in three weeks time Captain. She is a fine ship, the first of a new era for the Alliance, server her well."

[Gant Harvalle]

Already, Gant's mind was springing ahead through those three fateful weeks. He knew the choices he'd want from the Raconteur to serve. Now, he had to fill in the blanks from elsewhere. Overseeing final fittings, preparing for shakedown, and then...deployment of one of the most powerful ships in the Alliance. The Egality. His new ship.

"Admiral, am I to assume I've got pick of the litter in the talent pool, then? With all respect, I don't want to get in a pissing match with a fleet flag benchwarming over Bothawui. If we're at the head of the pack, I want a ship full of drivers, and no passengers."

[Reshmar]

Reshmar finished entering in the data finalizing the transfer and command change. He thought about what Gant had said, and understood exactly what he meant. He had been in the same position long ago.

"Of course Captain. The Egality is first out of the slip and has priority. You have anyone you need. with that I assume of course you accept the command."

Reshmar had already finalized it but he had to ask. It was protocol after all.

[Gant Harvalle]

"I want her."

It was an almost breathless imperative, nearly a growl. Still fixated on the task at hand, Gant's expression was steely.

"I accept command."

[Reshmar]

Reshmar smiled at the captain and handed him his order of command data. It stated his transfer from Third to first fleet and his change of command from the Raconteur to the Egality, His brevet promotion to Line captain, and the transfer of the 122nd Fighter wing to his command.

"Very well captain she is yours. I have already dispatched an order to the Quartermasters department to send supply's forward to the Egality. She will be fully laden and stocked for the shakedown. I have also arranged for you to travel to Hast day after tomorrow. You can get your affairs here in order and take command of her upon arrival."

Reshmar stood and reached out to shake Captain Harvalle's hand.

[Gant Harvalle]

Harvalle met Reshmar's hand with a firm and curt shake, his eyes never wavering from the Mon Calamari's own bulbous gaze.

"With permission sir, I'd like to get a head start on that duty roster. I've got a pocket full of favors to spend, and I intend to beg, borrow, and steal the best for my ship."

It might be a bit of a salty approach (irony aside) for the Mon Cal, but Harval knew Reshmar respected results, if he didn't necessarily reward zeal. He was just chomping at the bit to create those results.

[Reshmar]

Reshmar dismissed captain Harvalle and waited until he had left the office. He pressed a button on the edge of his desk and a small doorway opened at the corner of his office. General Forlon walked in and sat across the desk with a displeased look on his face.

"So thats Holt's Man."

Forlon paused looking over a data sheet detailing captain Harvalle's record. Reshmar nodded without a word and passed Forlon a second data sheet. The General looked it over then placed the data records on Admiral Reshmar's desk.

"I do not like it, Holt says sunshine sprouts from this mans pours but I just do not see it. I was at Duro too, I saw the man lose a ship, I saw...."

Reshmar interpreted General Forlon before he finished. He knew the man did not like or trust Captain Harvalle, but for that matter he did not like or trust anyone in general. He had pushed hard for his daughter to get this assignment. Now one of Holt's other subordinates was to get the most important mission that could ever be handed out.

"I lost a ship as well old friend, as did Holt and many more. This man performed above and beyond that day, as did many other fine officers."

Forlon sat quietly stewing in his thoughts. he thought about what to say next. He knew he was on the edge of insubordination. this was nothing new. He had hovered there his whole career.

"Do you trust this man? He will have the future of the Alliance in his hands."

Reshmar clasp his flipper like hands and closed his eyes. He knew it was a risk. But giving such a mission to anyone would be risky.

"I trust Admiral Holt and he trusts him. That is good enough for me Willam."

with that Forlon backed down and the two moved on to other topics both still unsure of the choice made or the future outcome. As the meeting with General Forlon finished Reshmar ate his lunch and looked over the remainder of his day. One last meeting today and He was off to see his son for dinner. The three hours between his meetings gave him time to work up a patrol schedule for new staff assigned to his office. he had more aides, attendants, and secretaries than he ever thought possible. The day to day operation of the defense force was a daunting task. One he did not truly desire. He was a warrior. A fleet commander. Now he sat at a desk most days telling people what to tell other people to do.

After his afternoon drink he prepared for his meeting. The acting Quartermaster had not been a frequent guest in his office. The name did his job well and Reshmar had never had a reason to deal directly with him before, today was different. Kes Akiena was to see to one of the most dangerous and secretive missions ever to be undertaken. A mission He had hoped he would never see in is life time. A last hope for peace but at What cost. The chime sounded at his office door and his attendant opened the ante office door and greeted Quartermaster Kes Akiena

[Kes Akiena]

It was a simple greeting, the salute that met him. And just as simple was the salute he gave in return. Such had become the normal day-to-day goings on in his life, and while on some level he missed the old days, another part of him was glad for the far more structured living that came with an honest-to-goodness military. Sometimes the ho-hum of a well-known schedule was a godsend. And owing to the unpredictable variants that so often presented themselves in his position, Kes gladly took the routine and relished in it.

Being one of the (too) few quartermasters stationed on Dac was, while certainly prestigious in its' own right, a job that did not allow for much rest. The requisitions. They never stop.

And that was on a quiet day. Not a day such as this.

A meeting with the Supreme Commander was never anything to be taken with any amount of light, and so it was that Major Akiena wasted little time.

He knew enough of the nature of his summons, and had prepared accordingly.

With a single datapad tucked beneath one arm, he strode into the Supreme Commander's office with a casual gait that belied the sensitive nature of this meeting.

Stopping just inside the door, Kes waiting for it to close before giving his superior a crisp salute.

"Sir."

[Reshmar]

Reshmar poured himself a glass of water as Kes walking into his office. He sat the Decanter down and returned the salute. This is something Reshmar was not accustom too but with the new protocols and uniform procedural system something he had to support.

"At ease major, please have a seat."

Reshmar motioned to the chair across from him and waited for the man to sit.

"Would you like anything? A drink possibly? I am having water but I am told my attendant has a variety of refreshments available for my guests."

[Kes Akiena]

Kes smiled, though it was a polite and controlled expression which carried with it the weight of his visit. There was the touch of the old carefree upturned lips, but it was guarded.

As he lowered himself to sit, the Major transferred his datapad to his lap.

He shook his head.

"My thanks, but no Sir. I'm not thirsty at the moment."

It was not long before he went on.

"My reports on all of Egality's munitions and stocks were sent three hours ago, so I'm sure you have had enough time to go over them in your own time."

What was on the datapad however - while certainly falling within the classification of armament - was enough to warrant not only a personal delivery but a heavily encrypted 'pad with which to deliver it.

This he set on the Supreme Commander's desk, sliding it across the expanse of the glossed surface so that it was well within Reshmar's reach.

"This however, I felt needed to be given to you personally. I do not think that it needs to be said as to why."

[Reshmar]

Reshmar took the pad and slide it to his side of the table. He knew what was on it already but looked over it once again. He could not believe where his career in the fleet had taken him. nor did he believe what he was reading. Ten years ago he thought he would never see this day again. yet here it was.

"Very good Major. I trust you will see to the final preparations before the Egality departs Hast. It is imperative only you know of this documents content. No one else in the Quartermaster Department must know of this."

Reshmar entered his personal code into the tables built in data interface and a a drawer slid our from his left hand side. He placed the data pad in it and closed and locked the drawer once again. Reshmar handed Major Akiena a set of orders on a data crystal then took a drink of water before speaking.

"Your service to the Alliance will be remembered Major Akiena. I have arranged for you to join Captain Harvalle on his trip to Hast. Get your affairs here in order and report to him by fourteen hundred Standard Dac time tomorrow."

[Kes Akiena]

It was a bit of a surprise, but nothing that particularly caused the redhead to balk. While he'd not been expecting to join the crew of the Egality - even temporarily - it made its' own sort of sense for him to be present aboard the ship.

Kes found himself nodding. If he was the only soul in his small cadre of fellow quartermasters to know of this endeavor, then so be it. His discretion was ironclad, and if the Supreme Commander wished for no others to know, then they wouldn't.

And just as soon as he'd sat down, he was on his feet once more. His new orders in one hand, he again saluted.

"I'll be ready, Sir."

[Gant Harvalle]

The Planet Hast - Somewhere in Wild Space.

Three days later.




The secret shipyard tucked away at the far reaches of the galaxy had seemingly sprung up within days of the Alliance cordoning off the Hast system. The fact that it didn't exist on official Naval records was quite purposeful. Only a security clearance got you this far out, and the fledgling Alliance took pains to protect its black project.

It sweetened the pot for Harvalle to entice his dream team to crew his new ship. However, it also made it difficult to cut through the secrecy. I want to talk to you about a posting I can't talk to you about was the kind of runaround he'd been forced to use while casting his net. Fortunately, the men and women he was after had extensive enough dossiers to be trusted to forget all of this if they decided it wasn't for them. Luck was on his side, however. No wasn't the word he was getting from his people. Still, the candidate sitting across from him was probably the most important name on his list. If she accepted, she'd be his XO.

The Captain sat in the cramped, temporary office assigned to him at the naval base on the planet's surface, and for a moment, he was content to merely browse over the dossier of Aris V'larr. Minutes passed. At last, he spoke.

"Well this looks all very..."

Gant tossed the dossier aside. It was a farce. He'd read it twenty times over. That's why she was here to begin with. If the dossier didn't pass muster, she'd never even hear of this.

"Right. I don't want to waste our time on that. You hungry, Commander? It's dark out, wherever we are out here, but we're both on ship time, and it feels more like zero seven hundred. Breakfast time. What do you like?"

It wasn't immediately clear where Harvalle was going with it all, as his expression was still sharp and serious. In any case, he wasn't getting up to head to wherever the base's mess hall was, so it was safe to say his non sequitur was rhetorical.

[Aris V'larr]

Lieutenant Commander Aris V'larr awaited the captain's judgment with the stoic, statuesque reserve for which she had become notorious in every post she had served. Outwardly, her pale, angular face was as inscrutable as a sphinx. Inwardly, ambition and nerves battled for crowded real estate in her multipartite Sikarran brain. The course of her young career had been both eclectic and meteoric, not an uncommon experience in a military that promoted smugglers and gamblers to the rank of general, but to date her most prestigious posting was to serve with the Rogues and Thunderbolts aboard the Wheel. To be considered for a position of this magnitude at this stage in her career was far more than she'd ever dared to imagine.

She raised a quizzical eyebrow at the captain's query. If Captain Harvalle wished to dispense with ceremony in the name of efficiency, she could hardly complain, but the pageantry of military bureaucracy was familiar and predictable in a way that the subtler modes of human interaction were not. At the risk of missing the point, she retreated to the literal.

"I've already eaten, sir. Standard issue protein bar formulated for high-gravity environments to offset my homeworld's relative low gee."

[Gant Harvalle]

"Meh."

He waved away that commentary flippantly with a bit of a gruff growl.

"The one meal a day that shouldn't be delegated to the ignominy of rations is breakfast. Strong caf, crispy bacon, dry toast, and eggs. At the bare minimum. Hell, when I was younger, it was second helpings on top of that."

A grin creased his weathered face as Gant reclined slightly in his chair.

"I busted my humps at the mess in my first tours in the Imperial navy. Was the kind of duty you got for being a smartass or not saluting at the right angle, that sort of thing. Most cadets thought it was the pits, but I loved it. Probably acted out a few times to get it. I knew the buttons to push. If I went to far, I'd have to clean the head, and nobody wants that."

Harvalle continued, his eyes sharp above his cocksure grin.

"One thing I got really good at, when running mess, was cooking eggs. You ever cooked eggs, Commander?"

[Aris V'larr]

The captain's account of his ideal breakfast put Aris in mind of the Rogue pilots and their heaping plates of fatty processed meats and reconstituted eggs slathered in blue sauce, as well as the questionable mash Lieutenant Casey simply referred to as "grits." On slow days, morning in the pilots' mess was loud and chaotic, full of crude jokes and rough-housing, and usually at least one plate or cup overturned on someone's coveralls. More often than not, Aris stayed to the side of the carnage and took her preferred breakfast of a ration bar, kiva juice, and a datapad of performance reviews in relative peace. On reflection, it had been a missed bonding opportunity, and possibly a contributing factor to Commander Luka's seeming disdain for her.

A closed sector of her mind spun away on this course of social analysis while her primary faculties remained rooted in Captain Harvalle's office. "Yes, sir. Frequently, during my academy days. Although, granted, when one is planetside, it is easier to be reasonably certain that one's eggs all came from a single species."

[Gant Harvalle]

The crows feet at Harvalle's eyes pronounced as he laughed a bit.

"Well, you've got a point. Big or small, white, brown, or blue. Probably beats the carton of 'flavor protein analogue' most sods get in deep space."

Aris said something worth bringing up, and again, he tapped the dossier before him with a casual gesture, minimizing the screen as quickly as he made a note.

"Says here you were accepted to the Imperial Academy, and had a fast track to a promising start ahead of you. Left that behind at the last moment, turned Rebel, and left behind a very promising career. I'm not one to question loyalties - almost every one of us to a man is a traitor and a turncoat, and most of us started on the other side. Still, I like to understand. That's not a decision any of us takes lightly."

[Aris V'larr]

"Of course, sir," Aris replied. "My people are pacifists by nature, and many would consider me a traitor to our ideals for taking up arms at all. I count myself among the minority who hold that peace must occasionally be won at the cost of bloodshed. When I applied to the Imperial Academy on Carida, it was because I believed the Empire stood the best chance of stabilizing the galaxy. Then Alderaan happened."

She hesitated. Not because she was searching for words - she had fully expected this question to arise - but because she was gauging the captain's reaction. The name of Alderaan carried with it a galaxy of misery and loss, and nearly every sentient she had encountered had a share in it.

"It forced me to re-evaluate my parameters for galactic peace. The Empire has proven it will sacrifice the very foundations of galactic civilization in order to maintain its own control. Such an action is both illogical and morally repugnant. Though I may not agree with the Alliance in all its policies, I unequivocally prefer its version of peace to the Empire's."

[Gant Harvalle]

The mention of Alderaan caused a visible change in Gant's demeanor. The tightness of those crows feet eased, and he took on an expression of inscrutable distance, almost looking past Aris. Realizing that he didn't offer anything to follow her explanation, he nodded his head - a feeble motion at first that was repeated a few times for emphasis. His eyes returned to the Commander, and again they were sharp.

"Yes well, Alderaan's quite a crucible. Easy to become a tyrant when you nickel and dime it away from your subjects. If the Emperor didn't indulge us with that moment of hubris, I wonder how many of us would be thinking his way."

It was rhetorical as anything, and the Captain again changed his angle, returning to an old line of conversation as something of a cocksure smile crossed his face.

"That's the difference, V'larr. The difference between the letter and the spirit. The difference between understanding the chain of command upways and down and understanding when just following orders is a fancy way of covering ass. There are plenty of Academy folks who saw the same writing on the wall, and who took that oath anyways. Plenty who knew every recipe for how to cook an egg for every occasion. You can know that, but to sit in the chair beside me, I expect you to know when to take the pan off the burner, recipe be damned. It takes both to lead.

I expect my XO to be a piss and vinegar cuss like me, because my XO is an extension of my will as skipper. But I don't have time for a dittohead. If it was easy to suss that out, some egghead would make a test for you to take and I wouldn't have to bore you with the rigamarole. File that somewhere near art and pornography, since I can't define those either but I know them when I see them."

[Aris V'larr]

Art, n.: A diverse range of sentient activities, and the products of those activities, characterized by their relationship to historically established aesthetic traditions, including, but not limited to...

Aris had an inkling that defining Captain Harvalle's ideal first officer would be more difficult. She settled for an attempt at translating his extended metaphor into her own language.

"You seek a first officer who shares your tenacity and independence, and whose convictions transcend an uncritical adherence to the chain of command."

She searched the captain's face for confirmation that she was on the right track. From what she knew of Harvalle's records, she was somewhat surprised to have garnered his interest. Though they wore the same uniform, it would be difficult to imagine two more diverse officers than the human male and Sikarran female evaluating each other across the desk. When a senior captain hand-picked his command staff, usually he installed a mirror image of himself at XO, or he tapped a promising young officer with the expectation of molding her in his own image. Aris had been called many things, but malleable was not one of them.

"In the interest of full disclosure, sir, the instinctive side of command is not something I feel I have mastered. Given a set of mission parameters, and an understanding of the capabilities of both ship and crew, I am confident in my ability to make optimal decisions based on available tactical data. However, in the absence of such data, I often fail to see the distinction between intuition... and a guess. In such circumstances I rely on a more inductive approach. I hope this will not be incompatible with your own style of command."

[Gant Harvalle]

The Captain's smile was a knowing one.

"Commander, believe it or not, but you just cemented my decision. Anyone who can sit there and tell me they have it all figured out is either a liar or a fool. You get good hands or shitty hands dealt to you all the time. We all have our orders. Whether you parse them through your gut or a sense of logic or what have you, all that's asked of us is to know how to play the game, make our moves without hesitation...

...and to make the right one."

If his explanation was cryptic, Gant made no effort to inject clarity. That was more or less the point.

"If that's unfair to ask, it's an unfair galaxy. We both know where the door out of here's located. That's one direction. The other direction is the Captain's chair. Whether your mantra is something cold and empirical or something a little more malleable, I'm not questioning that.

All I'm asking is that you have something driving you to want to sit in my chair, whether five years from now or five minutes from now. Best case scenario, you serve your tour with distinction, and force me to write some sappy letter to stick to your resume and wish you well a few years down with a command of your own. But space doesn't always deal in best case scenarios, V'larr. So, your full disclosure is appreciated, but the gut check time is right now. I've made my decision. Now it's your turn."

[Aris V'larr]

She shouldn't seem too eager, she knew. She should offer the captain every indication that this was a choice made with the utmost consideration and solemnity. But the fact of the matter was that her part of the decision had been made before she'd walked through the captain's door - after due diligence, of course. But in the end it wasn't fully logical, and it wasn't fully emotional. It was simple ambition.

"Sir. It will be an honor to serve with you."

[Gant Harvalle]

Harvalle's eyes sparkled at his XO's acceptance, and he offered her his hand in a shake.

"Good to have you aboard, Commander V'larr. You'll forgive me if I cut the honeymoon short, but I think we both want to see our ship. Thanks for cutting the sales pitch session short, I hate the dog and pony show probably more than you do."

Punching a comm at his desk, Harvalle gruffed.

"This is the Captain. What's our status?"

An unidentified voice on the line crackled in.

"Final fittings are complete and inventories stocked, sir."

All of the mundane details to get a capital starship in working order took months. Now, they were down to hours. With his eyes on Aris, Gant spoke again.

"Prepare for inspection detail to commence at ten hundred. Inform senior staff and duty stations."

The affirmative responded, and Harvalle cut the line, rising from his seat. Without ceremony, he headed to the door.

"Keep pace with me, Commander. It only gets more hectic from here."

[Reshmar]

Reshmar sat at his desk awaiting a long overdue call. He had a dinner scheduled with his son and if he did not get this call soon he would have to cancel. It was not like the General to be late for anything. He knew something was up. He hoped it was nothing serious. A few moments later his aide chimed in.

"Admiral, Genral Forlon on comm channel seven for you sir."

Rehsmar was relieved. he did not like waiting and with the status of the fleet it seemed it was becoming more and more something he was having to get used to. He turned on the comm transceiver and an image of the gruff bald headed Forlon appeared.

"General, I trust there is no problem."

Forlon gave Reshmar a scowl expression which Reshmar knew was his unhappy at the world look. which was the expression he had normally.

"Aghhhh, These damn new recruits. I have seen Ewoks who take better orders than these brats. Did we have to make peace? I liked it when we were a small elite force of rabble rousing traitors who stuck it to the Imperials. Now I am a babysitter for every rich bureaucrat or politician's son or daughter who fancies themselves as a star ship officer."

Reshmar started to laugh a little but kept his composure. Forlon in distress was a normal thing. He knew that the man bitched, and complained about everything., but deep down he loved it all.

"I understand Wilam. Listen I hate to be short but I have dinner plans. Are you prepared for whats to come?"

Forlon stood silently for a moment. he looked over a data screen which was out of Reshmar's line of sight. He could see Forlon entering in data and then he returned his smirk scowl back to Reshmar.

"We will be in position when the time comes. I tell you Resh, I have a bad feeling about this. Its not bad enough you send me out here in the middle of no ware but you do it with an inexperienced crew. I did not get the cream of the crop like you did. I lucky if this bunch knows where the head is and I keep them from crapping on the decks. I don't like it but Ill be in position."

Reshmar shook his head and smiled.

"Very good Wilam. I will see you when I arrive."

Forlon nodded and the transmission was cut. Reshmar stood and locked his data server for the night. It was time to meet his son for dinner. He hoped his wife would join but lately she had been distant and seemed to want nothing to do with him. She still had not gotten used to him being around. he hope someday she would. But in his heart he knew she would not. It was for the best he told himself. In his heart he still longed for the stars and deep space. He knew he could never truly give her what she wanted or even what she deserved. For now he was content to just see her, but he knew that would not happen. Still he could hope.

[General Forlon]

Forlon closed the channel and shook his head with disgust. he looked around the Command deck of the War Eagle at the kids he now commanded. His Xo was the only officer over the age of 25. and eh had not been on-board long. He had heard the man served with distinction at Duro and saved his crew when his captain was killed. Forlon didn't see it in him.

"Commander, what is the status of my ship?"

Commander Dubin looked up from his screen and smiled. he had red hair and a prominent jaw line which Forlon thought seemed out of proportion with the rest of his face.

"General, Sir, we are on schedule. We are awaiting the arrival of our pilots from Roche base. They are four hours overdue."

Forlon shook his head. Nothing and no one in this new Alliance seemed to be on time, not even him.

"Have the ship prep for departure. We will depart as soon as out fresh litter of flybrats gets on board. I will be in my quarters attempting not to kill any one commander. let me know when the pilots are on board and we are departing. Commander, you have the com."

Forlon walked to his stateroom at the aft starboard corner of the bridge. he sat down and poured himself a drink and thought about his career. He had been top of his class at Cardia., now he was a schoolmarm. He laid silently in the dark tryiing to figure out where and when the galaxy feel apart.