Part II: A spark of rebellion

We came in for a landing at Hakun Amata Ta spaceport. The sky grew lighter and lighter as the curvature of the planet faded into a solid line and our field of view narrowed. Metal canyons and mountains turned into a solid planet-wide mass of a city, gleaming and well polished with not a speck of dirt blemishing the perfection. As we landed on our pad, our sleek military shuttle drew no attention. This was practically the only civilian spaceport that the Dejah Empire used for military craft.

I opened a small compartment. Inside were four trooper suits, their plasteel armor glinting dully in the artificial light. There was also a small pouch with a few small rectangles. They were metal, some silver and some gold. There was also a flat gold card that appeared to be a credit card. We put them on and pressed a button. A section of the floor dropped down into a ramp with a hydraulic hiss. We walked out in our best military formation. A pair of spaceport guards came in front of our vehicle as we left, assigned to guard it, no doubt.

We entered the main building. This was my first glimpse of real galactic society, not some criteria-based camp system. The only thing I could think was, Woah. There were beings of all shapes and sizes. There were two-armed creatures, four-armed creatures, species with three or more eyes, one eye, and a few with no visible eyes at all. Some were like slugs on steroids, others like miniature elephants with four tusks. Some were vaguely humanlike, some not recognizable at all.

We went undisturbed in our shiny new outfits. Our old clothes were in a bag we had found. Even though we hit all the marks of a group of veterans returning from conflict, nobody congratulated or thanked us, in fact nobody came up to us at all. It was like we weren't even there. For a bit, I was perplexed, but then I realized. Nobody here truly enjoyed Imperial rule. They had no say in what happened to them, they were policed and suppressed, and they lived, almost certainly, in a rigid, hierarchical command structure.

We were the enforcers of such a government. Or, at least, the people here thought we were. We were secretly despised by many, but not overtly, as we held power. And a blaster. You couldn't forget we were strolling through the spaceport halls with a heavy rotary cannon around Ken's neck, a rifle magnetically locked on my back, and two pistols in Celene's hands. It was a testament to the sheer military prowess of such a government that nobody batted an eye to these heavily armed troopers in a civilian space.

We burst into the open sunlight. I had read last night that Coruscant had over 5000 layers of skyscrapers all on top of each other. Besides that, I spent some time looking over the file Celene had stolen from the camp. There was a blockade around Earth, waiting for the STGM to arrive to turn the whole planet into a sickened wasteland. It would be the apocalypse. Hurriedly, we looked around for some sort of abandoned building to stay the night. Finally, as the artificial climate generators began to generate a gorgeous red-pink sunset, we found an abandoned storage building in a secluded part of the city, hidden from the sky by its taller neighbors.

We went inside. We scoped out the place, and slept.

When I woke up, the others were already awake. We gathered up the few supplies we had and prepared to leave when 3 aliens entered our building. Hurriedly, we dropped what we were doing in an attempt to appear like soldiers, though why soldiers would be sleeping in an abandoned storehouse, I have no idea.

Clearly not convinced, one of the aliens, with elephantine skin of a light gray color, started, "Who are you?"

Another alien finished, "I don't know why you're here, but soldiers certainly wouldn't be. Are you thieves, or perhaps…" He looked us over, took in our sorry state, then went on, "Have you by chance escaped a Dejah prison camp?"

"Uhh, no, We're soldiers!" Celene unsuccessfully tried to keep up the act.

The first simply looked at us in a way that showed she didn't believe our lie one bit.

"Fine. We're escaped," Ken admitted, "You're not part of the Dejah fan club either, I bet. I see no reason why our interests have to be mutually exclusive."

The third rebel chucked. He had brown scales and hooves. "Whoever said they were?"

As I was about to reply, I suddenly heard a growl. A very loud growl. A growl that most likely came from… my stomach. As my stomach complained about its lack of food, one of the aliens said, "You're really not from around here, are you? You've got 85 Imperial Credits, yet you didn't buy yourself any food?"

Celene explained my whole ordeal and the STGM. The rebels stared at us, all three of them, with what appeared to be great worry.

"Come with us," the gray-skinned female alien said.

"I'm not supposed to go with strangers," I said, clearing my throat.

"Oh right, we haven't introduced ourselves, have we?" said the alien with hooves. "I'm Marik." He gestured at the alien with gray skin. "This is Shena, and the other bloke over there is Esques."

"Who are ya calling a bloke, half-wit!" Eques protested.

Shena interrupted. "Let's get going."

We strolled to a nearby cafe for brunch. Afterwards, we were walking to their hideout on a lower level when Esques told us the worst news possible.

"The Empire isn't using this new weapon as a policing measure. Any species which wasn't part of the group of founders of the Alkazari Republic, the predecessor state to the Dejah Empire, is considered dangerous and will be exterminated on sight. This new weapon will kill all organisms on the target worlds, but leave their buildings behind for study."

Shocked, we all made the rest of the trip in solemn silence.

We made it back to their base, a group of four huge but relatively short buildings at the four corners of a square, with the square in question fenced in, and some concrete and greenery inside. When we entered, instead of discussing plans, we simply watched some holographic programs. It was somewhat like television on Earth. Honestly, I was kind of happy we didn't talk about plans. I was one revelation away from a full mental shutdown. When the sun came down and the sunset was through, we played some board games and went to sleep.

The next day, I went to brush my teeth…. And stopped awkwardly. I went inside and found a paste that cleaned your teeth via nanobots. I smeared it on my teeth and went downstairs. By the time I took the last step, the smear was gone. Downstairs, everyone was having breakfast. I took something that looked like green bread with small red pin head size things inside. It tasted somewhat like oranges.

Marik spoke. "We've been planning a major strike against the Dejah Empire for quite some time. But we'll need some help from you guys and all the other rebel cells. Ken looked excited, but Celene slumped in her seat. Nobody else seemed to notice. "But first, you guys will have to train."

And so passed a week, then another, then another. We spent hours training with blasters. To conserve the Imperial blaster packs and the high-quality blasters themselves, we practiced with rebel ammunition and blasters weighted with stones to mimic the weight and centering of the Imperial blasters. We had meals inside, and went largely undisturbed. We practiced disguises and perfected alibis. We swam in an indoor pool. While not quite Navy SEAL level training, it would be good enough. The threat of the Dejah vanished from our minds, dare I say. I actually enjoyed it.

On the 21st day of our training, Esques came over to me. " Howdy. Come to the office." Celene, Ken, and I made our way to the office, on the 21st floor. Marik and Shena were there. In front of them was a half-sphere, a sphere cut down the middle so the bottom was flat. A hologram was in front of them, in shades of blue. It was a slug-like creature speaking to them. I stared in sheer wonder.

"We are on board. But we will not do this without proof you stand a chance. I suggest you take the small outpost on CET-36 solo. By then, we will establish contact with every rebel cell. We will join you for the rest of your campaign. To restore the Alkazari Republic!" The transmission cuts off.

"What just happened?" Celene asked.

"Remember what we said, partners? About the huge plan? We've been talking about it with the other rebel cells."

"Let me fill you in," Shena says. "We're going to attack a small outpost at CET-36. Then we're going to proceed onwards from planet to planet, attacking several targets. We're going to go to the old shipyard at Terxis. The most we can do there in a couple months is get a small fleet that will likely only be able to liberate a few planets. It's simply not enough to liberate the whole galaxy. Then we go to other planets from there and attack more targets. We'll go to the STGM assembly site. We'll take it out, then head to Earth, where we can break their blockade. Thus, we end the campaign."

"But why can't we go to the STGM right away?" I question.

"Because we don't know where it is. The Junior Officer whose computer Celene snooped through wasn't ranked high enough to have the location. And to get to a place where they might, we'll need gear and more info on their guard routines, meaning we'll have to go somewhere else… Get what I'm saying?" I nodded.

She showed me a diagram.

I looked at it and smiled. This was it, what I had been waiting for in all its papery glory. I happily went back to training for the day.

The next morning, I woke up to a jolt. Marik was shaking me. I groaned. "Quick, the Empire is here!" That got me moving. I hurried down to the ground floor. An airspeeder, this galaxy's version of a car, was waiting. It was the rebel's, but we had never been in it before. We piled in like kids going on a field trip. Adrenaline coursed through my every fiber, filling me with an energy completely at odds with the dawning sky.

We peeled off into the air, joining the average commuter in the hour before rush hour. We stared out the window at the innumerable species in the skies. So this was what it was like to be normal. Just some average people going someplace. The fact we were flying shattered that illusion. "So, where can we go?" Celene leads, jolting me out of my thoughts. The Dejah had begun a search of the city, presumably looking for us. Of course, we knew this would happen sooner or later. They wouldn't just let their test subjects go. But the sight of gunships combing the skies with searchlights filled me with dread.

They were bound to find the base sooner or later. Shena smiled, "Don't worry, we have a plan."

"I'm glad to hear that," Ken started, "But I feel like in order for this to be an effective plan, we may need to know what it is."

"We have another abandoned hideout. But that will be searched as well, and by the looks of things, it will be sooner rather than later. We planned to practice for a month more or so, but our hand is forced." He paused. "We leave at first light tomorrow."

The mood in the speeder took a turn for the worse, but that was quickly rectified as we saw the beautiful sights of Coruscant. Our path took us right through the center of the city, Federal District. The buildings were higher and shinier. In the center were the government buildings.

Shena pointed to a tall, unseeming building. It was gray with darker gray stripes. "That was the former Republic Office Building. It's where the senators spent most of their time and where committees and subcommittees met. In the days of the Republic, the stripes were red. Now it's the Imperial Office Building and the stripes are gray."

There was another building that was a trapezoidal prism. It had a rectangular shape and tapered toward the top, ending in another rectangle about 80% of the size of the bottom one. Some sections stayed the same size, creating sections that jutted out. It had stripes, but they were red. "That was the old Peacekeeper Order headquarters. After the Emperor eliminated them, he turned it into his palace."

Finally, we came to another building. It looked like a short mushroom cloud, the stem only about 15% of the dome's height. Unlike the others, this one seemed run down. Its red stripes were faded and the roof sagged and seemed close to collapsing. It was easily twice the size of the other two, and could fit a city inside its halls. Shena closed her eyes and sighed. "The Senate Building. This was the official meeting place of the Senate and where large official votes were made, back when the Dejah Empire was a republic." We passed this relic of a bygone age in a reverent silence. The mood was not tense, but hopeful.

We made it to the second hideout in merely a couple of hours. Inside was some food and a ship, sleek and shiny with red stripes. Judging by the coloration, I guessed it was Republic. There was a small alcove with around a dozen beds and a map.

"This ship may be twenty years old, folks," said Esques, "But it's still one of the fastest and best equipped ships in the galaxy. It belonged to the Peacekeeper Corps, and it's heavily armed, fast, and lethal. It's also capable of cloaking and getting past most detection systems. Since there were only around 10000 Peacekeepers, the Alkazari Republic spared no expense with these. They cost a fortune to make, and each one was fully custom and unique."

We rested the rest of the day and went to sleep. Early in the morning, an alarm woke us all up. It was a small device on the table. I was shocked. This society was so advanced, yet they couldn't even come up with a better alternative to the alarm clock?

"Come on, let's go." Marik said. We boarded the craft. It had room for six, with a fold out sofa-like apparatus. There were gunner turrets and a food heater. A supply cache in the back was a welcome sight, as well as numerous security measures. A symbol like a sword in a solar corona was found in numerous places. "The insignia of the Peacekeeper Corps." He continued when she noticed my eye caught on the insignia, "This very symbol is illegal. You can be fined 35 credits for being in possession of it."

We took off into the blackness of space, and opened warp to CET-36. We were as prepared as we could ever be, and we had spent the last month planning, so we spent the rest of the day in frivolous pursuits. We relaxed, talked, and just strolled around the ship. We got some much-needed sleep before our big day. I was dreading the hyperspace sickness that I thought was inevitable, but instead of terrible nausea like I had felt before, I woke up to a tugging around my navel area. That was it. The stars gradually turned from streaks back into the friendly dots I knew them as. An indigo world was curved beneath us. "Stealth on!" Celene shouted.

We descended. To our right I could see buildings laid out, but we were on track to land about a mile away. We touched down and a section of our ship's roof opened. A portion of the wall folded into stairs. We came up onto the top of the ship and slid down the curved hull.

After putting on trooper gear and loading our blasters, we crouched low and walked toward the base. We stopped around 50 yards away. There was no fence, just a couple of guards who were talking. Celene aimed her two pistols and fired a few quick shot at each one. It took a couple for them to go down. We sneaked past onto the path, and we passed a trooper, who greeted us, "Morning."

"Morning." I said. After we passed him, I clubbed him in the head with the butt of my rifle and shot him twice in the back. Their armor protected them, leaven them just unconscious. We couldn't pull off such subtle moves closer to the center of the outpost. We laid down in the grass right before we would have been spotted and crawled over to the side of a building.

With our white armor, we were painfully obvious. All it would take was a glance in our direction and you could tell something was off. But nobody saw us until we stood up, almost at the corner of the building.

"Hey!" A trooper shouted. Ken, the only one of us armed with a rotary cannon, fired a wide arc, sending the troopers scrambling for cover. We heard them radio for backup. "We have intruders in sector S-656! They are armed and have a rotary cannon. Requesting backup!"

We went behind the wall and laid down fire, slowly advancing and shooting at the troopers. Celene with her pistols was the quickest out of us, though her shots did the least damage. Three in the same spot were needed to even knock a trooper out. The rebels and I with our rifles were the middle ground. Medium fire rate and range with high accuracy. Suddenly, a felt a jerk on my shoulder. I was hit. My armor protected me, but it definitely slowed my advance. There was no hesitation, no cosmic revelations. This was instantaneous and unthinking. Not until long after did I truly realize what we were doing. If I had, I might have never done this at all. But the sky was above us, and at the moment, I was a wolf out of its cage, hunting without thinking of the future.

Ken laid down fire with his rotary cannon, providing suppressing power and keeping them pinned. Without him, we would have been overwhelmed in a minute. Just as we seemed to be winning against the fifteen or so troopers, due to our better positions, a lone fighter came from overhead. Its engine whined like the world's deadliest mosquito, and it nearly forced us to break apart on its first attack run. Its second would ensure our defeat.

Ken raised his cannon and fired at the single-person small fighter, forcing it to swerve. However, without his suppressing fire, the troopers came out from behind their crates and began to advance. Esques ran off, only exacerbating our now not-so-slow retreat. Just as we reached the edge of the outpost, our Peacekeeper ship, which I had found out was named the Valiant, swooped toward us and engaged the fighter in a short dogfight. The enemy fighter was shot and crashed into the ground. I couldn't tell if the pilot was dead or alive.

Our ship began to attack the troopers, and with that, the battle was won. All the troopers were either unconscious or dead within a matter of minutes. That was expected. What wasn't was the way their eyes bugged out when they saw the ship. One shouted "Peacekeepers!" Clearly, the order had a large reputation before their fall.

The reason we attacked CET-36 soon became clear. It was a station that deployed Special Forces troopers. They were out on a mission, meaning the base was lightly guarded. Inside a large building were thirty camouflaged, color adaptive, high quality special forces suits and 160 blasters. 60 heavy pistols which would have to be dual wielded due to their slow fire rate and kept in sheaths on the utility belt, thirty standard issue rifles like the one I carried which would be across the back, and 30 rotary cannons which were also attached on the back. To top it off, there were 30 rocket launchers. Over the next few hours, we took them all.

We went back to our ship with the suits and and blasters, and took off. We were on autopilot. I had asked to be in the front, and there I was, with an amazing view as the planet grew smaller and curved beneath us. Suddenly, a squadron of fighters came out of nowhere. I acted instinctively, pulling us out of autopilot and swerving. Celene and Ken, manning the dorsal turrets, unleashed heavy fire. The turrets could be automated, but we decided to keep them manual for now, so we could have greater control over the destinations of our shots. We were spinning and rolling to deflect their shots, and one by one they began to fall, all except for the lead fighter. It dodged our fire and spun. I slowed the ship and did a roll, slamming our much larger ship into the fighter, crushing and destroying it. Our ship, being the ridiculously expensive monster it was, didn't get hurt at all.

And just like that, it was over. We met in the atrium of the ship to discuss what to do and where to go next. Eventually, we decided to head to Togruta, a nearby outpost with very little Dejah occupation, to rest and plan our next attack. I had suggested we just stay on the ship, but like Marik said, we had limited fuel and supplies, and we still had to talk with the other rebels.

We started on our way to Togruta, and at about dusk the next day, we entered normal space once again. Multiple times, I was still amazed by the sheer view of warp, incorporeal blue swirls accented with a light purple. The light from stars stretched into those characteristic streaks of white light. This time, I hardly even noticed the pulling in my navel. Maybe Celene was right when she said you get used to it. I wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. We decided to spend the night in the ship, then land at the landing site the next morning.

However, that evening, I noticed a locked cabinet, nearly 7 feet tall and locker-like in shape. It was made of polished wood-like material that reminded me strongly of mahogany. It was locked, seemingly with a physical key. I looked around, and after a while of searching, I found a antique-style metal key under a spare bed. I put it into the lock. Without a single creak despite being unopened in many years, the cabinet opened, revealing several items.

On a top shelf there was a deep blue mask with a fancy visor. There was a heavy metal suit devoid of patterns and a gleaming silver sword and matching blaster. Esques, Shena, Marik, Celene, and Ken came over. Esques made a noise, and Marik's eyes bugged out. Even Shena, whom I was quickly learning never showed surprise, had a hitched breath.

"Do you know what that is?" Marik squeaked. "It's the outfit of a Senate Guard! The quintessential mask, the Raja steel that is better armor than plastoid and roughly tied with even the Ankh armor-weave of the peacekeepers!" He gasped and reached reverently for the sword. "A blade of the finest quality, imbued with electricity." He pressed a button and nothing seemed to happen. He thrust it into a box of tissues, then pulled it out. There was a hole. A smoldering, burnt hole. "This thing can get through absolutely everything!"

"I think I'll wear it." His smile turned into a serious look.

"It's a big responsibility to carry the armor of a Senate Guard. You have to sort of honor their legacy. Don't do something they wouldn't. People will look up to you in amazement with that outfit. Don't ruin that."

"I promise." After that, we ate some dinner and just relaxed.

"Rise and shine!" I awoke to the sound of Esques's unnaturally cheerful voice. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up.

"Remind me again why we have to get up so early?"

From the other side of the ship, Shena laughed. "It was your idea, remember? We should get up before dawn so we can scout without having to deal with any hostiles." Her voice imitated mine on that last part. Actually, it was a really good imitation. It kind of creeped me out.

"Whoa. How did you do that?" Ken was clearly was as dumbfounded as me.

"What, the imitation? Imitating has always come easy for me. I've been doing since I was a child."

"Alright, enough fun, let's get going. We don't have all day." Marik was clearly not having it this morning. He gathered his supplies in a hurry and stood at the door, scowling, while the rest of us prepared in silence.

Once we were all ready to go, Celene opened the bay door and we slowly walked onto Togruta. From the first second, all I could think was that Togruta was like Hoth. Everything was a stark white, and the sun shone off everything with a dazzling radiance.

Once I got past the sheer brightness of it all, I began to notice finer details about the area we had landed in. We were standing in the center of a large field, surrounded on three sides by a forest of strangely short trees.

Noticing my gaze, Marik responded to my unasked question. "This planet is not occupied. It's uninhabited." He hands me a pair of something that looks like sunglasses. We wait. Suddenly, shapes of all sizes came down from the sky. There were large bulky vessels most likely intended to be freighters, and sleeker transport ships. There were very few military vessels, and one of them was a peacekeeper ship. I got back on board and put on the Senate Guard suit. There were many people milling around, several hundred at least. My heart swelled with (insert fancy word). We had a chance.

As I made my grand entrance, the people looked at me. "Are you a real Senate Guard?" someone asked. I shook my head no, and surveyed the crowd. Suddenly, I caught something. Looking at it, I saw a white mask with yellow patterns, and robes with a bronze cylinder about 2.5 feet long. A Peacekeeper. I walked over. They looked at me. "Have you mastered that Photon Sword?" I took it out and practiced a few moves. The Peacekeeper seemed to smile and patted me on the back. He went over to a group led by the slug-creature from earlier. And that was that.

We spent the next 16 days talking strategy and training further. We pored over maps and charts. The Peacekeeper, whose name was Plo Koon, said I had natural talent. I was promoted to squadron leader and ready for our next attack on Oumhaha. And so we left.

The stars reverted to their normal positions and we swooped down onto Oumhaha. I could instantly tell the forces against us were a lot greater. Squadrons of fighters stationed in the space above the planet moved to intercept, and so did we. Meanwhile, the larger ships, including mine, sent soldiers down onto the ground. The vast majority fought conventionally, but our thirty special forces soldiers sniped from the grass, their rifles acting in sync. "Don't hit the central building!" Plo Koon said.

I let my training take over. I swooped and shot like I was in a video game, diving and blasting with my turrets. Fighters trailed behind me. I saw Celene. Most of her shots missed, and the ones that hit only hit places nobody was in. In the back of my mind, the part not intently focused on the battle, I noticed that was odd. Celene was an excellent pilot. Why would she miss so many shots?

At the end of it all, when the metaphorical dust had settled and the true extent of our devastation was visible, I stared. We'd done it. We'd lost a few, but we'd taken a proper base, manned by around 500 soldiers. I thought of the Dejah soldiers. Sure, they believed in the cause, but they had families. Parents, children, special someones. The relatives would blame us for their deaths. In war, there is no way to please everyone. We were fighting corruption and evil, but we ended up killing and hurting people along the way. It was a double-edged sword, revolutions. Even if we became some sort of galactic heroes, we would never be universally loved. History would remember the Dejah troopers as unfeeling tools of darkness. But they weren't. They loved. They breathed. They lived.

They weren't evil. And the friends and family of troopers killed would hold that against us. They might thank us for restoring democracy, but their feelings toward us would be mixed. Right now, in the heat of it all, we felt no guilt. But later, later, would it cripple us? I envied Plo Koon. He had trained and lived for this. He faced down criminals and outlaws and meditated on the light. He would emerge virtually unscathed. I wasn't sure I'd be that lucky.

After the battle, we went to the edge of camp. The special forces troops had taken the central building and retrieved drives full of data on military operations. They forced a junior corporal to enter the access code, giving them all the data. We left for Sprock B, where we could use the data to help us come up with an attack plan.

We stayed there for 17 days. Some of us were working on deciphering the data received from Oumhaha, while the rest of us trained in stealth and subterfuge and relaxed in our free time, roaming among the richly forested moon. Monkey-like creatures howled in greeting everywhere we went. The place was a natural paradise. We were nothing but guests in the great balance of nature.

When we were ready to leave for Terxis, special forces were sent to a shuttle depot on a nearby moon. They hijacked the shuttle from the Dejah troops stationed there and came back for all 674 of us. We were squashed into the shuttle only built for 600 and flew towards Terxis. The next day, we arrived. We donned trooper suits located within the shuttle and posed as replacements for troopers just leaving their shift. Troopers at Terxis operated two month shifts, whose duration we learned from the data we had deciphered.

After we gave the guards cracked security credentials, they boarded the shuttle, unaware of our deception. We called Coruscant and told them we had arrived safely. The real replacements were jettisoned into space, unfortunate casualties in this grand conflict, tossed out by the strike team who captured the shuttle in the first place. Posing as them, there we stayed.

The next day, a group, myself not included, went towards an ancient battleground looking for the wrecks of the Greeh droid army vessels. The hope was to fix up and use the droids to help our cause. For the Greeh, an army of robots had made the most sense. Because for them all positions up to Vice-General could be taken by droids, only a few biotic organisms were needed to run their massive fleet. For a species close to extinction, it was only common sense. Let's just say their HR department didn't get much of a workload. However, for us, that choice left multitudes of battle droids ripe for the taking.

The group returned, smiles on their faces. This was the cornerstone of our plan. We could make fleets. We'd been attacking small outposts with under 500 troopers. That's all fine and dandy, but you can't have much of a rebellion with that. Plus, there weren't many of those. Now, we could attack real population centers and bases! Sure, our fleet would be less powerful than an Imperial one of comparable size, but that was a given, considering the fact we were using technology millenia older than any of us.

We weren't planning to take the galaxy over, just clear the Earth blockade. Sure, we had just gotten blueprints, not any actual ships. But every day, we grew closer and closer…. To victory. 61 days passed as we waited around, helping ourselves to their entire stock of Space Waffles and Meiloorun sauce. Slowly, a fleet started to take shape around the shipyard. Cruisers, destroyers, and even a battleship emerged piece by piece. And thus the days passed.

Afterwards, our group split in two. One half stayed at the base. When the next group of troopers arrived, the 337 remaining forces would ambush them, steal their comms to radio base the all-clear confirmation, and build another, reinforcing fleet. They would then leave, as command would be anticipating a group of troopers to be returning. They would fulfill that role. Meanwhile, the ships would be built by droid workers. After the two months, those 337 troopers would return, take the ships, and reinforce our fleet which would inevitably be in tatters by then.

The other 337 of us would take the existing fleet, cause mayhem, and wait to be reinforced before our final push. It was a two-pronged plan that converged on a final assault to foil the Empire's plans. I could go home, the galaxy would be saved temporarily, and we could rejoice for a short while. However, this wouldn't overthrow the galaxy, just be a major campaign. The sovereign Emperor Jar Jar Binks would send his mighty fleets after us in quick and brutal retaliation. And so off we went, off to Mori mere minutes before the next batch of troopers would be met with a hail of screaming blasters with rebel yells to boot. I felt sorry for them.

This was a vastly different experience to my other ones. What else was new? I sighed in contemplation, lost in an ethereal reverie. Even with the rebel ships, I had been expected to pull my weight as a soldier. Here? Battle droids were there for every menial task, from cleaning to cooking to even firefighting. We weren't soldiers to their eyes….no, programmed optical sensors. We were lavish, heroic officers, if heroic was a concept linear programming could understand. We were expected to sit back and give orders, make the big decisions while the masses of metallic soldiers executed them and died by the thousands upon thousands with unseeing indifference.

They could not feel horror or even that their orders were wrong. They kicked their fallen brethren out of the way like snow and plowed through until they were blown to bits. In between battles, their sole job was to wait on us hand and foot, serving our every need without question. It just wasn't right. How many times had each of us, out of necessity, ordered a poor damaged droid to throw himself out of the airlock when all he did was take up space, joints grumbling in protest. Looking straight ahead, without emotion or even a human-like face on which to display it, they condemned themselves as easily as we would go drink a glass of water. The thing that worried me was that sometimes, rarely, but sometimes, it wasn't out of necessity that we commanded them to destroy themselves.

We spend the rest of that day and the next traveling to Mori. We were supposed to spend a half day after that in transit, but suddenly and without warning, the familiar, comforting hum of the engines strangled to a halt and the stars compressed in a uncontrolled rush. We were surrounded by the inky blackness of space, alone in utter silence.

I grabbed my Z-6 blaster and put on the Senate Guard outfit. I strapped the Photon Sword to my back and kept my blaster loaded. An atmosphere of controlled panic gripped the ship. Quickly, it became apparent all ships manufactured at the shipyard were not working. The droids marched in preprogrammed patrol routes, scanning for intruders. I headed to the command center of the ship I was on. There, the slug-like creature, Kabba, was giving out orders.

The rebel made shuttles were our only working transport. It was clear that some sort of an emergency kill switch had been triggered. The Dejah Empire had more safeguards than we thought. They must have programed the construction droids to add sensors and a switch to each ship. If an unauthorized ship was detected, they could shut down its propulsion.

A team, including Ken, Celene, Esques, Marik, Shena, Plo, and I, was given orders to take the Democracy, a shuttle that had been made before Terxis, to the nearby planet of Amurfats, where a group of engineers that were loyal to the Rebellion were located. And off we went. Tense but focused, we made our way to Amurfats. On the way, I wondered why only the propulsion was cut off. Why not life support? That would be more efficient. But, thinking about it, the answer became apparent. If it was a false alarm, the crew of the ship would die needlessly.

We made it to the planet. A group of engineers with pig-like noses and skin the color of a walnut were waiting to greet us. They were taken aback by the dark blue armor of a Senate Guard and the tan and brown armored cloak of a Peacekeeper. Plo and I shared a glance, smiling.

"A fleet of ships has a triggered kill switch. We need you to fix it. Come with us." Plo said. The engineers nodded. We boarded the shuttle and returned to the curved, elegant silhouettes framed against star-streaked blackness. Immersing themselves in their work, the next 19 days were spent doing whatever we could to assist the much-needed technical expertise of the engineers. Calls for tools and food rang throughout the battle-droid-yellow halls, accentuated by the rhythmic footfalls of legions of metal feet.

On the twentieth day, the repairs were completed. The flow of traffic, so disrupted, returned to normal. Control panels long dark slowly blinked on. We hadn't turned on thrusters or weapons yet, but everything was on schedule. Waves of relief flooded through me. One could compare this fledgling rebellion to a delicate flower. Beautiful, inspiring, but the slightest nudge could break it irreparably. Our lives depended on that flower. Just as it seemed all was back to normal without the feared strike by Dejah forces, the unfortunate occured.

A small fleet dropped out of warp. Imperial. Our first test in battle descended upon us in a red fury. This gave me a chance to compare the architecture of our ships. Our vessels were gray with a cerulean blue accent color. They were curved with almost no sharp angles. Despite how it may seem, they did not look comical. The warship intention was there, clear as day.

Their ships were larger, although only slightly, and a darker shade of gray than us. That was their only color. Sharp angles dominated their vessel. There were no curves to be found. They were brutal in their simplicity. Though we outnumbered them greatly, panic ensued on our ships. Systems and switches were hurriedly turned on. From their ships, at least early on, all must have seemed well. There was no evidence we were operational, and they couldn't have known about the engineers. They thought we were dead in space with nothing but our rebel fighters to protect us. They came in perpendicular to us, straight forward at our starboard side. But then, all that confidence surely disappeared. Even the lowly gunners could see our engines lighting up, our turrets swiveling. Against all odds, we had circumvented their kill switch and survived.

They began to turn, trying to dig themselves out of the situation. But it was too late. We fired a volley at close range. The ships were models equipped to deal with fighter swarms, not fellow capital ships. We quickly annihilated their fleet without delay. We lost not a single vessel.

And thus, we completed our journey to Mori. We arrived the following day, faced down with a fleet. I stared at the bristling array of quad turbolasers. These vessels were built to deal with fighters. They were arranged in offensive position. We surged forward. Thousands of sleek droid fighters burst from our ranks. While greatly outnumbering the Imperials, our fighters were much worse in quality. Still, their swarms made for a fearsome sight.

Fortunately, the days when we organics would be placed in harm's way directly was long gone. We were generals, watching from ray-shielded bridges. Attack runs were blazes of light, shortly followed by listing ships and wailing sirens. While we suffered light casualties, we won the day, breaking the blockade.

We descended onto a dark fog, a mask of deception hiding fertile farmland and villages galore. It was a quaint, picturesque town. "Descend to 250 feet." I ordered a navigation officer. The other living officers, our rebel cell, stared at me.

"Yes ma'am!" The droids said in unison. We dropped altitude gently. In a nearby village, doors were opened and people marveled at the sight, crowding in the streets. The 'purple octahedron on a plinth' symbol of the Alkazari Republic proudly emblazoned on the sides of all our vessels. It was the first time in decades that symbol had been on a warship. I was keenly aware of the firepower all around me. Just one command, and this village would be nothing more than a scar upon this planet.

Shuttles were dispatched to the village. The children oohed and aahed at all the soldiers, but especially Plo and I. One asked, "Mom, is that one," pointing at me, "wearing a bleached Midnight Guard suit?" The mom looked sad at the comment.

An elderly man walked up. "I am the mayor. Welcome, rebels. Thank you for saving us from our labor." I noticed with concern that a lot of the farmers were thin and sunburned.

"A combination of long workdays and low food rations, I'm sure." Plo whispered. We were welcomed grandly.

Tle mayor spoke again. "Pirates have been threatening us as well, in addition to the Empire. Can you help us?"

And so the next 10 days were spent. We built up their defenses, taught them to defend themselves, and generally helped them improve their infrastructure. But by the end of it, it was clear we couldn't stay too long. Even with our ships grounded, the Empire would soon know we were still on the planet. They assumed we had already left, following our previous pattern of hit-and-run attacks. We restocked our supplies and left for the next target in what we had named Operation Firestorm, Cenaha.

By the next day, we were nearly there. Without warning, the loudspeakers announced we were being diverted toward the planet Ashla. A meeting was called at the Atrium. Many rebels did not like the change. There were grumbles and statements of disapproval. I took their side.

"Why can't we attack sooner?" I questioned. Kabba looked in my direction and addressed the crowd.

"We need a semi-permanent base to fall back to after this campaign." he said.

And that was that. We were on our way. The next day, we landed at Ashla, a lilac planet. Supplies were unloaded and a proper camp was beginning to take shape. I had thought a lot about the decision, and I realized… I trusted our leadership. This wasn't just about me anymore. An entire galaxy I had no idea existed needed saving, and I realized I wanted to be a part of it.

I was coming to the conclusion this had to be done, and I wanted to do this. Dare I say, I was even having fun every now and then.