Your old road is rapidly agin'

[Captain Hekimi]

It was almost 10 years ago to the day when he had thrown his lot in with this rag tag group of rebels. 10 years ago, after news of the Battle of Yavin had spread through the systems and he and his crew decided that perhaps this fight wasn't so hopeless after all.

He was already a seasoned freighter captain by that point with 20 years of experience, first as part of a huge shipping conglomerate and later as an independant contractor. He had captained several different ships over his career, ranging in size from a lowly B-7 light freighter to the majestic beast of an Action IX on which he now stood - The Whaladon.

It was with the Whaladon that he had joined the Rebel Alliance. For years it had run heavy cargo between bases and military operations. Hekimi received a commission making him a Commander in the Alliance Navy. His crew ballooned to as many as 200. Faces came and went. Missions came and went. He was happy. He felt like he was making a difference. And eventually Hekimi's Whaladon was selected, out of all the other ships the Alliance had to offer, to carry a far more precious load - the fragile seeds of a new Jedi Order. They lived aboard the Whaladon and were protected by an eclectic group of starfighters and capital ships, informally known as The Wheel.

In hindsight, that was when his life had really changed. With the arrival of the Jedi. Funny how things changed when you were hauling people instead of weapons and power equipment. He had gotten paternal. Of course it was illogical, any one of the Jedi would be worth more in a fight than his entire crew, but still, it only took a few months for him to start thinking of them as his Jedi and he as their protector.

[Captain Hekimi]

Though his mission was important, it wasn't the Alliance's only priority. His crew compliment shrunk as they were reassigned to other ships in other parts of the fleet. By the end, it shrunk from 200 all the way down to 50, the minimum with which he could operate the Whaladon. Thankfully, as his crew size shrunk, his Jedi multiplied. More and more strays were collected lost souls that, through various means, had located The Wheel. The Jedi could only train so many hours each day; the rest of the time, they pitched in, helping his crew keep their lifeboat afloat as they tried to stay one step ahead of the Empire. And they did a fair job of that. Only a few times was The Wheel infiltrated and only a few times were the Jedi put in danger while aboard the Whaladon. But all good things came to an end. The game of cat and mouse ceased a few months ago with the ending of open hostilities between the Alliance and the Empire. At long last, the Jedi could stop running and find a place to call home. A place where they could rebuild. That place was Ossus.

Ossus. The vista opened up before him as the Whaladon's fore turbolift touched down. Captain Hekimi would continue to ruminate as he took his afternoon stroll. Or flutter. Depended on how he was feeling.

The planet had been chosen by the Jedi and scouted by them and the Alliance in preparation of their arrival. Ossus was selected for several reasons. Foremost, as far as Hekimi was concerned, the planet was deep in Alliance space, far from the reach of Imperial forces. In addition, it was the home of a library of the ancient Jedi Order. And finally, though he doubted anyone would admit it as a reason - Ossus had sentimental value. Symbolic value.

The landing zone was near the library, in gap in the nearby foothills. It was 9 in the morning when the Whaladon set down. He had been on watch when the ship was grounded. The moment his career ended.

[Captain Hekimi]

Oh sure, it didn't feel like the end right away. From the moment the Whaladon settled down in that clearing, his crew burst into action, busier than ever. 24 in the deck department, 7 in the communications department, 5 in the stewards department, and 14 in the engineering department - and every one of them had something to do.

On their way to Ossus, they had stopped at an Alliance supply depot where the ship was packed with supplies until he was sure she would burst. Building supplies, power generators and cables, excavation equipment, antenna arrays, and enough rations to last those on board at least a year. Everything you needed to build a new home. The Whaladon landed, the cargo and personnel turbolifts were lowered, and his crew was transformed.

With the aid of the Jedi, they dug a well, finding groundwater at a mere 70 meters. They set up a greenhouse so that a sustainable food supply could be established as soon as possible. While some of the Jedi continued to live aboard the Whaladon, others craved the open air and a small tent city sprouted up around the nose of the ship. They dug a latrine (well away from the well) capable of accommodating the settlers and ease the load on the grounded ship's waste systems. They built power generators, weening the tents off the ship, to which they had been connected as a child to its mother by umbilical cord. They established a defensive perimeter, building surveillance towers on the heights surrounding the camp, allowing them to keep an eye on the wildlife and tribes occupying the surrounding land. They built a staging area from which the construction of the permanent structures would begin and the expeditions to the library would set out.

(He passed some of the scattered tents that still remained, passing over worn footpaths leading from the Whaladon)

Not even the attack on Ossus by the treacherous General Dan slowed them down.

The engineers engineered, the deckhands provided manual labor, the security personnel hunted and patrolled the perimeter, the radio operators kept the camp in contact with the surveillance towers and the ships in orbit, the cooks, well, cooked, and his command crew kept things running smoothly. Even his custodian, Cha Klee, kept busy with "Cha Klee work". The Jedi, of course, proved invaluable, lending a hand wherever they could.

Still, it was immediately evident that things had changed.

[Captain Hekimi]

(He headed north, towards one of the main throroughfares. It stretched from the ruins of the Jedi Library to the center of town and continued on to the Cizeri base.)

The passengers and crew of The Whaladon were joined just a month after landing by additional Alliance forces and, soon after that, by the Cizerack. These newcomers were professionals, military and civilian units of engineers and construction experts that were trained to establish new bases and settlements. They came armed with even more earthmoving and construction equipment and quickly established themselves near the fledgling Jedi settlement - the Alliance to the south and the Cizerack to the north, nestled in the pass that led to new Gossam settlement. Their little corner of Ossus, it seemed, was a popular place to be.

(He paused briefly in front of the medical tent, thankfully empty at the moment save for a pair of 2-1B medical droids and their equipment.)

Dutiful as his crew was, building towns wasn't what they were trained to do. Many of them were becoming restless being landlocked and the arrival of the experts hastened the departures as his crew fragmented and took assignments with other vessels. Spacebound vessels. His helmsmen were the first to go. The first never even made it to the Ossus and the other two took off not long after. He lost half the engineering department in one fell swoop, his chief engineer and all but a handful of the assistant engineers being assigned to a nearby Nebulon-B frigate. He now had enough left to keep the ship's reactors going and little else. His Third Officer was gone, now commanding his own vessel. Three of his cooks left for different ships, along with two of his radio operators. Out of his 9 deckhands, only 2 were left by the time the first Cizerack ship entered orbit.

(He headed west, towards the crossroads, stepping out of the way to let a large, wheeled construction vehicle rumble past.)

A little more than half of his crew remained, including most of the core. The core group were the ones that had been with him the longest, closing in on 10 years; stretching back when they were hauling freight in that old Brayl-class ship. They'd called themselves "The Gang" back then: his first and second officers, Dan'Is and Dee, the twin Kaminoans; his security officer, Ronald Mac; his departed chief engineer; and Cha Klee, because there's always Cha Lee work to do on any ship. The Gang was almost all still with him. Dan'Is and Dee stopped their squabbling long enough to somehow keep the rest of the crew in line and Ronald had his security crew whipped into shape, manning the surveillance towers to make sure anything approaching the camp larger than a rat received a thorough ocular pat down. Lieutenant Bullwood was still here, keeping careful track of the ship's scattered inventory. But Captain Hekimi could tell that they were all getting restless too. They weren't needed anymore and there were only so many hours you could spend pacing the empty corridors of The Whaladon or standing on its neutered bridge monitoring radio traffic and enjoying the view without losing it.

[Captain Hekimi]

(He hesitated at the crossroads, considering which way to go. To his right, the road stretched off to the east, leading towards the greenhouse, a small field where the Jedi were preparing for a planting, and a supply depot where he was likely to find Lieutenant Bullwood. He could pick up a hover cycle there and head up to surveillance station perched on the nearby peak. Mac would probably be at one of them around this time of day. To his left, the same road wound through town, passing by the modular apartments to the cluster of newly constructed buildings catering to the Alliance workers. But in the end, he continued on the road he was on, though it wasn't a road, per se, it was simply a cleared patch of land worn clear of plant growth by the continual passage of feet, wheels, and repulsors.)

Just yesterday, a pair of T-47s had been busy in the skies over the settlement. A large communications array had been hoisted up and deposited at the top of the peak to the northeast. A crew including some from his communications department were up there preparing it. Until now, The Whaladon had served as the communications relay for the entire settlement. As soon as the array was up and running and connected to the Communications Center that lay just ahead of him, those duties would no longer be needed.

Another nail in his coffin.

(He passed by the Jedi Council chambers. It had been the third building completed after the mess hall and a garage on the far side of The Whaladon. Inside, no doubt, one or more of his Jedi were at work, doing whatever it was they did, but he had no business with them at the moment and no reason to disturb them.)

[Captain Hekimi]

But what options were left to him? For now, at least, The Whaladon was grounded. Even if it wasn't, he didn't have the crew to man it anymore and it would take time to get new personnel. An aging cargo freighter wasn't exactly at the top of the Alliance's priority list. He could request reassignment to a new ship, but he didn't want a new ship. He wanted his ship. He'd grown attached to the fat ol' tub. He could gather up what remained of her crew, bribe some folks to fill in the gaps, maybe get a few rebellious padawans to join him, and take the ship without asking.

(A jedi knight walked past him, followed by a gaggle of younglings)

No, he wasn't quite ready to be a wanted criminal yet.

He reached the communications center and the edge of the settlement as it currently existed. Beyond lay empty space and a road that continued down a long, shallow slope to where the Cizeri landing ship rested, surrounded by a defensive pallisade and countless of those cat folk, hard at work. Some days he made the trip down to their base to consult and coordinate with Major something Verrotoa. Cizeri names had a way of slipping through his mind. Today, however, he had nothing that needed to be shared.

Hekimi stepped to the side again to get out of the way of Cizeri heavy speeder, hauling a flatbed stacked with coils of cable. He turned and watched it continue back the way he came. They were running underground lines from the power generators to the completed buildings, replacing the tangle of temporary lines that radiated out from the generators, weaving and crisscrossing everywhere. Even from here, The Whaladon dominated the view. It loomed over the camp like a beast, protecting the brood that lay nestled in her shadow. Set her down on her belly and line up a few more like her and you'd have one hell of a defensive barrier. He tried to imagine what this place would look like when she was gone, but he couldn't. Probably like the empty view to the west. Only it wasn't so empty anymore, with all the construction happening. The new medical center was just ahead and beyond that, some kind of administration building. Sanctuary One City Hall or something. And they wouldn't be the last. Entrepreneurs, potential jedi, craftsmen, merchants, people would be coming from all over the galaxy to settle here. Before long, this entire valley would likely be settled.

All of a sudden, the openness of the valley left him feeling very exposed. He did an about face and fluttered back to the east, back to The Whaladon, forgoing his usual tour for the solitude of his quarters.

[Captain Hekimi]

He sat in his office, staring at the screen. All around him, a collector's paradise crowded every available shelf and display surface, but Captain Hekimi saw none of it. All he saw was the screen. Perhaps it had been intuition that lead him back here to the ship. He was informed by Dee, his second-in-command, that a message had come for him from Alliance High Command not three minutes after he'd left.

The holoprojector still displayed the frozen image of the Alliance Admiral. Her name escaped him. Her message, however, had not.

"Captain Hekimi, it is the decision of the Alliance High Command that the Whaladon is to be decommissioned. Please prepare a list of possible choices for your new commission. We will expect you to have a command crew chosen by the time you and the rest of your crew are recalled, no later than 10.224 ABY. A salvage team will be dispatched to collect what they can from the ship and it will be towed to a permanent resting location on Ossus. Thank you for your service, Captain."

And so he stared at the screen, contemplating whether or not the message should be sent. It was something he had always been prepared for in the back of his mind, but now that it came time to take action, he hesitated.
Just hit send.
It certainly wasn't the first time he'd said goodbye to one ship only to say hello to a new one soon after.
Just hit send.
He could easily find a new home for the gang and himself.
Just hit send.
There were plenty of ships in the galaxy.
Just hit send.
He still had many years of flying left in him.
Just hit send.
Perhaps one of those Anxarta-class ships. He'd never flown a Seiner boat.
Just hit send.
He just had to decide.
He thought back to the empty spaces and imagined them being not quite so empty.


In the end, he hit send.

Admiral Ackbar,

I respectfully resign my commission, effective immediately.

Sincerely,
Captain Hekimi