Chapter Two

   “But can he be trusted sir?”

   “Of course not.  That’s why Saffra’s on the assignment.”  Soli nodded at his own acumen.  Saffra was a wise choice indeed.

   “But sir, the man’s a maniac.”  Tyrahh persisted. 

General Soli smiled a warm smile and aimed it at the young private.  Ahh, the impetuosity of youth.

   “A biased opinion.  In combat he gets results.  And with Commander Saffra by his side then perhaps the mission can be achieved.”

   “With respect sir, this is the seventh team the New Republic has sent to Maquina.”

Soli turned his head to Tyrahh.

   “I’m well aware of the statistics private.”  He clasped his hands behind his back.  “Dismissed.”

Private Tyrahh saluted apologetically and left the General alone in the briefing room.  Soundlessly he moved to a partially hidden, soundproof blast door and opened it.  Standing there to attention was a khaki-clad female soldier.  Shoulder length black hair matched her pit deep eyes, her figure long and athletic standing taller than Soli.

Terrie Saffra smiled at her superior and entered the room.

   “At ease Commander.”

Terrie relaxed and seated herself.

Soli continued.

   “I presume you are already familiar with the mission.  New Republic Intelligence Division has placed you in charge of the mission to Maquina.  All decisions are yours to make.  Your…assistant will comply fully.”

Terrie frowned and eased back into the seat, crossing her legs as she did so.

   “And who is my assistant, General?”

Soli glanced away and wiped the corners of his mouth.

   “A smuggler and free-trader of some repute in these parts.  On occasion he has assisted the New Republic in missions and the like.”

Terrie rubbed the back of her neck.  Oh no, it was him in the Mess Hall.  But please, don’t let my partner be him.

   “What’s his name?”

   “Captain Jan Lomona.”  Soli frowned at Saffra’s reaction.  “Is there a problem with that?”

Terrie straightened herself, regaining her self-control.

   “No sir, no problem at all.”  She paused for a second.  “It’s just that I’ve had dealings with….” Should I give away my past dealings with Jan now, she asked herself.  Would it hurt?  Perhaps it would.  “…With smugglers before, sir.  I found them to be less than efficient.”  And that’s the truth, she smiled to herself.

Soli nodded in understanding.  He felt much the same way about Lomona and smugglers in general.  But since Han Solo, one of the Republics greatest heroes and the lover of Council member Leia Organa, was himself a smuggler it was not possible to veto their aid in any given situation.  And the fact that Jan Lomona and Lando Calrissian were long-standing friends also helped Lomonas situation.

   “Lomona is your back-up Commander.  He’s being well paid.  He’ll comply.”

Terrie pressed the point for effect.  She knew Jan’s capabilities and strengths, his weaknesses and foibles.  But Soli didn’t now that.  He likely knew nothing of her previous employment by Glann Cipple.  And Terrie was wise enough to know that it would more than likely prejudice his opinion towards her.  And Lomona?  Now that she’d hidden her relationship with Lomona there was no use in protecting it.

   “What if he doesn’t?  What then?  Shoot on sight?”

   “Use your disgression.  Lomona is an unpredictable man, and almost impossible to anticipate.  Plan your actions in advance.  And be on your guard.  His sort takes advantage of certain…situations.”

Terrie frowned outwardly but smiled inside.  She’d known how to push Jans buttons seven years ago.  What could have possibly changed?

   “He sounds like a great guy.  A half-crazed, homicidal maniac.  Great.”

Terrie looked away out of the wide window.  Leogard still remained in sight, stars dazzling as usual.  The dust cloud lacing a misty hue over the scene.  She smiled.  Stories of Jan’s smuggling exploits were too numerous to mention, and she always made sure that she heard them.  Out of pure, simple curiosity of course.  He’d done well for himself these past few years.  Moving his way up the ladder in Glann Cipples operation before its collapse, running his own freight transport business.  Raising a daughter into a strong and independent young woman.  Staying loyal to Frans.  The years had treated him well, as they had her.

   “When do I get to meet him sir?”

   “Tomorrow, before you disembark.  But now I think we both need some rest.”

Both rose and Terrie saluted.  Soli returned the gesture. 

   “Good luck Commander.  I hope to see you back safely when the mission is completed.”

   “Me too sir.  Goodnight.”

The door retracted and then closed, leaving Soli alone in the dark once again.  Alone, alone, alone….

   “...No, no…don’t go…no, NO!”

Jan awoke just as he rolled off his bed.  He outstretched his arms and cushioned his short fall.  Lying on the itchy floor, carpet in his mouth, he pulled the pillow off the bed and rested his head upon it.  His sheet was twisted around him and he was way too tired to clamber back into bed.  Jan lay prone, thinking, dreaming, reminiscing.  His recent life felt so bittersweet.  Like swallowing the last ever piece of your favourite desert, or saying goodbye to something for the very last time.  Jan lay still and rolled over, looking out of the bedroom door.  He pulled the sheet and pillow closer.  Everyone needed someone, if only for the companionship and piece of mind.  Jan had some small measure of piece of mind but he longed for the companionship.  He felt empty and hollow, and the sooner it was filled the better.

   “I wonder what Terrie’s doing?”

   “I wonder what Jan’s doing?”  Thought Terrie as she entered her cabin and activated the lights.  Her quarters were much like Jans, but at the moment much less organised.  Usually she abhorred disorder but she’d only arrived on the Colossus two days ago and had been practically living out of a suitcase for the past year.  Her fastidious habits had slackened over the years, and as such ornaments, art pieces, food utensils, underwear and blaster power packs littered the floor haphazardly.  Picking her way through the carnage she dropped the contents of her pockets on the side and stepped into the sleeping area.

It had sure been a surprise to see Jan in the mess area the other day.  She didn’t think he’d recognised her, and to be honest at first she wasn’t entirely certain that it was Lomona.  He wore his hair longer these days, and a two-day growth covered his face.  His clothing was as outlandish as before - orange overcoat and blue trousers.  But it was a big galaxy.  Jan Lomona couldn’t be the only man with the dress sense of a colour-blind Gungan.  When Soli told her that he was to be her assistant on the mission to Maquina she was stunned.  It had been him, and now after seven years they were going to be spending who knows how long together completing a dangerous mission.

Fate favours the foolish.

Terrie wondered what had happened to him in the years since they’d worked together.  Sure, she’d heard the stories, the smugglers tales told in the bars and tapcafes.  But what had happened to him?  Had he changed?  Was he still the same irreverent, demanding and infuriatingly cocky smuggler she’d fallen for all those years ago?  No!  She reprimanded herself.  I did not fall for him.  And he didn’t fall for me.  It was just one of those things.  One night of loose tongues over a wonderful meal.  Nothing more.  Nothing more.

Terrie undressed herself and slipped between the sheets.

Admiral Haden ran his webbed hand across the dark dome of his head once more and attempted to compose himself, but to no avail.  What he was being asked to do was morally bankrupt at best, illegal and criminal at worst.  He could see no reason or justification for allowing the action to continue, but he had to admit that he had no alternative propositions to lie on the table.  And so, for what seemed like the hundredth time he wiped his dome clear of sweat and seated himself at the table.

His accomplished guest had long since departed from the Colossus.  Haden had watched the visitor leave in a very fast starship for the other side of the Mid-Rim and wondered, as that ship faded into insignificance, whether or not his conscience would allow him the luxury of sleep that night.  Haden smiled to himself. 

Evidently not. 

It was 02.50 hours and he hadn’t slept a wink, not even attempted it.   He had simply paced up and down the conference room, bathed in the multi-coloured light of a holographic image of Maquina as it rotated and skipped through a set of images.  He lowered his head.  Not again.  Another mission to Maquina?  I thought that the last time was the end of it.  But it comes around every few years, this time quicker than ever.

Admiral Haden sighed.  He hadn’t joined the fight to liberate the galaxy from the oppression of the evil galactic Empire simply to send good men to their deaths.  Once the conflict had ended at Endor he had every intention of returning to Mon Calamari and his young family, but the dying embers of the Empire and its subsequent resurgence soon put paid to that.  But now, as a state of relative calm was beginning to wash over the galaxy he felt that it was time to return home, to hand over the reins to younger, more energetic men and women who could bring new ideas to confront the quietly growing tide of Imperial attack.  What he didn’t want was to sign off on more death warrants, more suicide missions…

But the mission to Maquina felt like just that.

Jan rubbed his face dry with the rough towel for what seemed like the millionth time and ran it down his face.  He paused momentarily as he reflected upon the image that stared back at him. Jan smiled.  How did I ever get such a reputation as a ladies man with a face like that?

He groggily stumbled back into the lounge area and seated himself on the couch.  It was no use - sleep wouldn’t be visiting him this night.  Perhaps the long trip across the sector to Maquina would afford him that opportunity.

   “Who am I kidding?”  He said aloud to no one but the wall.  “With Terrie around, sleep is going to be the last thing on my mind.”

Lomona frowned again and stood, and grabbing his leather trousers and a flight jacket he quickly dressed, grabbed his cred-stick and exited his quarters.

Jan passed three people during his brief walk to the Mess area.  He’d decided on that location for a number of reasons.  Firstly because at this late hour there would be precious few, if any, people about.  Secondly, the view of Leogard from the window was stunning and soothing, the silky black starless night an almost comforting, smothering blanket that protected him from the realities of his life.  And thirdly because he was in dire need of a real drink and the bar droid that worked the night shift was a cinch to hotwire.

He accessed the door and stepped inside.  It was indeed empty – the light given off by Leogard reflected across the unwashed glasses and cutlery left on the tables.  Nodding in satisfaction he took a seat near to the window and enjoyed the view.  Jan sat there for perhaps fifteen minutes before he was disturbed by the approach of the bar droid, which hovered beside him waiting for an order.

   “Flameout-Maxi, and make it hot.”  He uttered beneath his breath.  “And keep them coming, I’m gonna need ‘em.”

The Droids head lights flickered briefly, as if almost acknowledging Lomona’s quiet annoyance and then swung away across the Mess to the bar.  Seconds later it returned with the first large bottle and deposited it on the table.  Jan swiped his cred-stick across the pay point and leaned back into his seat.

Soon the bottle was dry and another ice-cold beverage took its place.

If her pillow had been a Wampa she’d have thumped it into submission by now.  Sitting up in her bed Terrie pulled the sheet down and sighed deeply.  Her head was brimming with questions.  Why the hell has Soli teamed me with Jan Lomona?  Doesn’t he know the dangers in putting us together?  The risk?  She growled.  He’s a walking disaster area.

Stepping out of her bed she tripped across the cluttered floor, snapped a pair of briefs on, slid into some leggings that were tossed onto a chair and swung her coat on, zipping it up to her neck to hide her nakedness.    Satisfied that she had covered all the polite conventions of flesh coverage she left her room.

As soon as she approached the turning to the Mess area she knew that there was someone already in there.  There was no noise, no physical sign of occupation – she just knew that there was someone there.  It wasn’t enough to make her decide to turn and return to her quarters, but it was enough to slow her swift pace and stroll slowly to the doorway.  She peered around the corner but could make out no one. 

Strange.

I could have sworn there was someone there.  Oh well, must be losing my touch.

She stepped into the Mess and approached the bar.

   “Terrie, great. Get a Duarga while you’re there, I’m kinda running low here.”

Terrie swung around with a start to see Jan’s silhouette played against the window, his feet balanced on a chair and a bottle dangling from a finger.  His demeanour suggested a less than happy customer. Taking a cleansing breath she moved towards him.

   “Captain Lomona.”

   “Commander Saffra.  It’s been a long time.”

Terrie nodded slowly, unsure of his inference.

   “Seven years.” 

She edged closer, running the events of those long years through her mind.  Seven years, girl.  Has it really been that long?  It only seems like yesterday since we arrived on Abrogard.  She smiled quickly and tried to regain her composure.   

   “Have you been well?” 

Terrie frowned within. She knew perfectly well how Jan was doing.  She regularly came into contact with acquaintances of his.  His cousin Sharn Retgarr was a member of Squadron Indigo, the elite tactical X-Wing unit that Terrie commanded.  And ever since their mission to Abrogard seven years ago she had been in regular contact with Jan’s daughter Paige.  Terrie knew full well how Jan Lomona was doing.

   “I’ve been fine.”  He replied, removing his feet from the chair and sitting up straight.  He motioned for her to sit, which she did.  “I carried on with the smuggling, refitted the Sunrise.  Watched my daughter grow up and go her own way.”  Jan smiled an almost sad regretful smile.  He looked up at Terrie sitting a metre away from him.  “I never did thank you for what you did.”

Terrie shook her head in confusion.

   “Thank me for what?”

   “For Paige.  Convincing me she was really my daughter.”

Terrie grinned and leaned back in her seat.  That had been the most pleasurable aspect of the whole trip to the Verlence Sector, watching the two A-desandians grow closer and closer until the blindingly obvious truth of Paige’s parentage was accepted by Jan. 

   “You don’t have to thank me.  You’d have figured it out for yourself before too long.”

Jan shook his head.

   “Don’t be so sure of that.  I had no room or desire in my life for a daughter.  If you hadn’t been there then…” He trailed off, unsure of what he was trying to say. 

Terrie gave him his space to collect his thoughts and continue.  “…Perhaps we never would have had the memories that we’ve shared since.”  He smiled again, only this time it was a warm and hopeful smile that promised more to come.  Terrie reached out her hand and Jan took it softly.

   “It was my pleasure.”

They both paused for a moment, enjoying the warmth of each other’s touch until Jan breathed out and retracted his hand, leaning back and closing his eyes.  Terrie glanced downwards.  She hadn’t meant to be so intimate but it had felt so right.  Dammit Terrie, she thought furiously to herself.  Lomona felt so right.  But he had a fiancée, a daughter, a successful career.  Why would he have given that all up for a loner like me?  She turned to take in the view of Leogard, glowing like a Corusca jewel in the inky night.

   “How’s Frans?”  She asked simply.

Jan Lomona lifted the bottle to his lips and sank a deep shot.  Savouring the last of the Duarga he placed the bottle on the table and stood to his feet.  Joining Terrie in her reverie of Leogard he shoved his hands into his pockets.

   “What time do we meet up in the morning?”  He asked, very obviously ignoring Terrie’s inquiry about his now ex-fiancée. 

Terrie stood also and checked her jacket.  I assume Frans questions are off limits.  They must have had another of their famous bust-ups.  Only this time I’m going to make sure I get nowhere near one of them.  This mission to Maquina is strictly business. 

Right?

   “06.00 hours.  In about…” She checked her chrono.  “Two hours time.  I’d better get some sleep.” 

She left the table and walked towards the door, pausing to see if Jan followed but he didn’t.  He remained rooted to the spot close to the window, spying upon Leogard as it completed another rotation.

Terrie turned and left the Mess area, and only as her shadow whispered away from sight did Jan sigh and sag his broad shoulders.

Life without Frans?  Is it really worth fighting for?

   "Stang, this is ridiculous.  I'm never gonna get this ready for lift off."

Nacron threw down the bolt tightener in disgust and wiped his forehead.  His Sullustian brow creased as he sat back and stared at Lomona's droid Aurran.  Damn him for wanting the droid along in the first place. 

Aurran’s head turned jerkily to the right and his photoreceptors gazed down at Nacron.

   "I might remind you of the extortionate fee Master Lomona paid you for your last work."

Nacron frowned.

   "That Desando Dynamics shuttle?  What about it, it was a big job."

   "Undoubtedly.  The shuttle had a complete systems burnout."

   "That's not an uncommon occurrence, droid."  Growled Nacron.

   "Perhaps not.  But over the third planet of the Arintak System it is a major inconvenience."

Nacron turned away and swore silently in the direction of the Mechanical Repairs ward.  Goddamn droids.  Tin pot troublemakers with brains programmed by corporate yes men.  Programmed to annoy, he was sure.  But the droid was right, Lomona paid well and he certainly owed him a favour.

Nacron spun back to Aurran and grabbed a wrench off the workbench.

    "Mister Nacron, you don't intend to inflict physical harm upon my bodywork do you?"

Nacron grinned widely and moved in.

   "Naw, I'm just gonna tighten your nuts."

It turned out that the Holo-vid Jan watched was in fact quite good.  He'd given up on sleep for the night after returning to his quarters.  The clock glowed at him in the dark, taunting him as he tried to drift away to unconsciousness.  Besides, there would be plenty of time for sleep on the way to Maquina.

The Holo-vid, Alien Chainsaw Sexslave Barbecue was an unusual, foreign homecare therapeutic gourmet’s delight and Jan revelled in it.  It was just what his distracted mind required and with eight bottles of Plixx beer in the cooler, two Duargas by his side and a bowl full of Cockons the night was set.

Then there was a knock at his door.

   "I thought the sign said it all - no canvassers, no fans."  Jan opened the door and glanced outside.  No one.  Not a soul in sight.  Jan frowned and stepped into the corridor.  "Very funny you jerk."  As he turned to re-enter his cabin he noticed a package on the floor, an oblong plastic container resting by his feet.  Jan bent down to retrieve it and walked inside.  He inspected the box closely.  No room service these days on New Republic ships, and no one would be crazy enough to try to get a bomb aboard a gunboat because of the massive security.  Jan was puzzled.  Switching off the Holo-vid and activating the music centre he seated himself and carefully opened the box.  It responded to his pressure and opened with a click and a hiss of pressurised air.  Jan's eyes lit up in delight and surprise.  There before him was an exact replica of his own custom heavy blaster, copied in every detail.  And on the side of the barrel was a plaque.  Jan held the weapon up to the light and read the inscription.  It read, Not bad flying Jan, keep one eye on your afterburners - Trumbo Dill, Jomobol Pocock Holdings, chief representative.  Jan grinned.  Trumbo had been practically following Jan around the galaxy for the last…Jan couldn't remember how long.  He'd also previously worked for Cipple before his downfall and the two men had an easy relationship.  Not that Glann or Pocock didn't trust him, it was just that Lomona had a habit of making trouble happen everywhere he went.  Trumbo was just telling him he knew where he was - one step behind, as ever.  He reached for his own blaster and replaced it with the new one.  He slung the old blaster into his holdall along with his other goods and smiled.  Just in case.  Jan nodded to himself in satisfaction. Just over an hour till meeting time at room 101.

And then it would really begin.

Jan blinked and wiped the meagre accumulation of sleep from his eyes.  Only an hour had passed but he felt refreshed and alert, a legacy of years of catching brief naps in the pilots chair travelling through hyperspace.  He rose from the sofa and wrapped his trench coat around himself as he snatched at his shaver and made his way to the bathroom.  Once freshly shaven he hauled his sack over his shoulder and checked his low sluing blaster.  It was time to leave.

Colossus seemed surprisingly busy for the hour.  Technicians and scuttling droids weaved about in search for jobs to be done.  A squad of soldiers marched in unison to the beat of an old regimental tune.  Jan saw this and dropped onto the back of the squad, following them in rhythm down the corridor.  This is fun.  Learning how real soldiers march.  He followed until he reached his destination - room 101. 

Jan regarded the mission with more than a little trepidation.  He'd done jobs similar to this many times before for various employers, but nothing of the magnitude of this.  This was a mission of true importance, and his failure could mean…he couldn't begin to fathom what.  It was a dizzying thought and he wondered if it had occurred to Terrie.  He was sure it had, but he almost wished that he hadn't thought it himself.  Pressure enough without this.  One thing's for sure, the guys at Zythlies will never hear about this.  Whichever way things fall.

Room 101.  Jan didn't bother to announce himself, the door was unlocked.  Inside sat Terrie in civilian clothing, an official looking man with a clipboard and in an adjoining room a sergeant.  Lomona stood, filling the doorway and acknowledged all three, running his hand through his long hair.

   "Captain Lomona, good morning.  I'm Stephan Tarvann, I've been appointed to see to all your pre-flight requirements.  If there's anything you need, all you have to do is ask."

Jan nodded once.  The atmosphere was that of a clandestine meeting which shouldn't be taking place.  A forbidden gathering, taking place in a shadowed side room off the main corridors.  Presumably to reduced the risk of unauthorised personnel stumbling upon them, or even Imperial spies.  Jan appreciated the cloak and dagger nature of the meeting, as if he was embarking upon something that he really shouldn't.  The nature of the mission was grave, but the mystique… it felt good.  Gave him the edge he knew he would require. 

Tarvann continued.

    "This is Sergeant Tass, your weapons officer.  He's arranged all your equipment and has prepared some literature for you to peruse in-flight."  Tarvann motioned to Terrie.  "And finally this is your commanding officer Terrie Saffra.  I don't believe you've met."

   "Not that I can recall."  Replied Jan as he stepped forward and shook her hand, the two exchanging knowing smiles. 

   "Pleasure to finally meet you Captain Lomona.  I've heard so much about you."

   "All good I hope."  He smiled as he looked down into her deep black eyes.  He continued.  "I heard about your stunt over Varoone.  Impressive stuff."

   "Really?"

   "Oh yeah, it's all the boys will talk about down at Zythlies."

Terrie raised an eyebrow in amusement.

   "And which boys would that be Captain?"

   "Oh you know, just the boys."

Tarvann interrupted their exchange with a subtle cough.

   "Take a seat Captain."  Offered Tarvann curtly.

   "I prefer to stand." 

Tarvann smiled blankly as he activated the Holo-tank and the room was plunged into darkness as a map of the main Maquina spaceport hovered into view.

   "As you're no doubt aware Captain, you will secure your vehicle in Port Bay 264A."

   "As ever."

   "You shall then proceed with your luggage to a cafeteria, the Suncharr Restrooms.  Here you will rendezvous with your first operative.  Commander Saffra is familiar with that operative."

Jan glanced at Terrie who nodded.  This is familiar, he thought.

Tarvann continued.

   "You'll spend the day surveying the town and market place where the prison is situated.  Then you shall meet up with your operative again at Zythlies Dropout Parlour on the main square and divulge your discoveries.  That information shall be relayed back to us here on the Colossus."

Jan leaned forward and laced his fingers together.

   "Who?  Not just any key basher I hope."  He was concerned.  Dangerous missions were one thing.  Reckless ones, that was something else.

   "We only employ experts, Captain.  As I was saying, for the next two days you're on your own.  You can choose your own accommodation and recreation." 

Jan couldn't resist a smirk, which Tarvann noticed.

   "Please remember Captain that you're posing as a couple on vacation.  And if you screw up it may well become a permanent vacation." 

Jan lowered his head and nodded as Terrie stared directly ahead, shifting her eyes to glance at Jan. 

Tarvann clasped his hands together and motioned through to the adjoining room.

   "Sergeant Tass has prepared your equipment.  He is also your communications officer.  He will be receiving your transmissions."

Tass turned at the mention of his name and motioned for Jan and Terrie to follow him into the room.  In the centre was a long table covered with a white sheet.  Tass pulled the sheet off with a flourish, revealing their equipment.  It was a sparse cargo.  Basic survival pack, rifle, rations and comlink.  If either was stopped and searched with any more than this then it would certainly provoke attention. 

Terrie seated herself and looked over at Jan.  Their faces held the same thoughts, of how naked and alone they would be down there.  Apart from the handful of operatives they would encounter, how isolated they would be.  Just wit, charm and good luck would pull this off.

But only just.

Jan sighed deeply and began to stuff his gear into his own holdall, ignoring the one provided.

   "One moment Captain."  Tass reached down for Jan's custom made blaster.  He shouldn't have.  Lomona's yes opened wide in surprise and anger as his huge hand bulleted down and wrapped constrictor-like around Tass' arm.  The Sergeant blinked deliberately and stared up at Jan.

   "Regulations, Captain.  You do understand."

   "Your regulations pal.  If this doesn’t go, I don't go."

   "General Soli gave strict orders that - "

   "Soli knows what he can do with his orders.  Now let go of the blaster before I start breaking more than regulations."

Tass reluctantly relinquished his grip on the blaster.  No way was Jan going anywhere without his trusty blaster on his hip.  Especially one given to him by an old pal like Trumbo Dill.  Tokens of friendship were difficult to find these days, and therefore treasured.  Jan straightened his trench coat and motioned to Terrie.

   "Ready then?"

Her hands palmed down onto her thighs and she pumped up to her feet.

   "Whenever you are Captain."

Turning Jan nodded to Tarvann and exited room 101.  As Terrie saluted Tarvann held her arm in check.

   "Commander Saffra."  She waited.  "Use caution.  General Soli told me about the Captain and his attitude.  He's an unpredictable man."

Terrie acknowledged his concerns.

   "I know Mister Tarvann.  I'll be looking out for number one."

   "They're in the docking bay area now General."  Private Tyrahh paused for a brief moment.  "Shall I patch you through to the ship?"

Soli shook his head, a wry smile creeping across his face.

   "Thank you, but no Private.  I'm sure Lomona has seen enough of me to sustain his anger for a year."  Soli's hands intertwined, lattice-like as Tyrahh activated the cameras in bay 21 and Soli was presented with a panoramic view of the bay.  Sitting in the centre was the Berone Sunrise, basking in shoals of personnel like a great ocean beast.  Saffra and Lomona had just left the check-in office and security and were nearing the ramp.  Jan let Terrie board the ship and paused.  Soli leaned forward at this.  Lomona appeared to have noticed something.

   "Private, zoom in on Lomona and give me sound."

Tyrahh nodded and worked the control pad before her.  Jan swivelled his stare and then fixed his gaze solidly and unmistakably on the camera.  Soli twitched.  The camera was forty-five, maybe fifty metres in the air, concealed behind lighting, pipes and gangways.  Lomona's sarcastically smirking face filled Soli's metre-wide screen.

   "Sound Tyrahh, give me sound."  Soli managed to receive Jan's final few words before he boarded the Sunrise.

   "… I know you're laughing your smug butt off about this mission.  So here’s one last thing Soli, probably the last thing I'll ever tell you.  I'm not in this for you, the New Republic or anybody else.  I'm doing this for me.  And if I learn you've screwed things up for us…well, I hope your guilty conscience kills you.  Because if it don’t, I will” Jan looked around the bay, waved to someone out of shot and entered the ship.

Soli sat back silently, flicking off the sound and freeze-framing the shot of the Sunrise.  He had intended to spy on Lomona's final moments of safety but had instead been lured into humiliation.

   "General, are you alright?  General?"

No reply came from General Soli.

None was needed.

The Berone Sunrise jumped into motion.  Ground staff cleared the area as her landing claws retracted and repulsors carried her forward to the exit.  Jan manoeuvred through the ionic field and activated the engines.  Boosters blasted furnace hot fires as the Sunrise kicked away, accelerating upwards, pirouetting towards the boundaries of the dustcloud.  Rear scanners showed the fleet as a sprinkling of stardust and before she was a twinkling herself the Berone Sunrise transferred to hyperspace.

   "They've made the jump to hyperspace.  Shall we proceed with the operation?"

Soli nodded as he stood and straightened his jacket.

   "Yes Private.  Open transmissions to Maquina and ready all operatives for their arrival."

   "At once, sir."  Tyrahh saluted with a smile and left.

Soli turned back to the screen, which still held the freeze-frame of the Sunrise.

   "I truly hope you realise the magnitude of this operation Lomona.  The risk you and Saffra are taking. Twelve soldiers have gone and never come back, but none of them had the chance that you have."  Soli blinked and gazed around his office.  He was alone but talking to himself.  He felt quite foolish, but it felt semi-therapeutic and relieved the tension of the moment.  He intensely disliked Jan Lomona and his cavalier attitude to rank and command.  But the New Republic desperately needed this mission to be a success.  Four months of intense planning had gone into setting this mission up to free the captives, despite telling Lomona that this was the first attempt.  It was in fact the seventh, and twelve soldiers before him were believed to have perished on Maquina.  Twelve good soldiers.  Soli wasn't one hundred percent certain of the details of the information the captives held, but he knew it was of massive importance.  And that despite their recent victories and successes, the Empire remained a threat.

Soli breathed deep.  The next few hours would be the hardest. The wait for their arrival.

The sun burned brightly, someone died somewhere.  A tree fell in a forest.

Meanwhile, on board the Berone Sunrise...