Unfortunatly, Wedge Antilles, Tycho Celchu, and the rest of Rogue Squadron belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm, Del-Ray, and other merchandising companies. This is a work of fiction and intends no infringement on thier rights. If you have questions or comments about the story, please consult my F.A.Q. or email me at email@example.com.
Kisura Tabann's fingers flew across the terminal's keys. She was deep into the Kuati Holonet systems--only a few more seconds until their slicer would find her. Seconds would be enough; she almost had what she'd been searching for--there! She copied the file to her private datapad and slipped out of the system. Sitting back, she glanced at the chrono. Three minutes and forty-one seconds--not bad for a core world's defenses. Kisura idly called up the file and wandered to the refrigeration unit for something to drink. It was midsummer in her colony, and even the nights could be uncomfortably warm. Still, this night's work had been thoroughly enjoyable. Kiz had gained access to the data dump that contained Kuat's censored news files. Kuati holoshills were known throughout the galaxy for their skills, and discovering what the Imperial censors wouldn't let them release could prove very interesting indeed. Still, the file required some work before she could send it on. She activated her personal filter, searching for the names of key people, places, and organizations. It was fairly standard information, she soon discovered; diplomatic sorties wheere this or that noble had embarrassed themselves--it was a Kuati source, after all, and an emphasis on their absurd preoccupation with class led to a planet-wide fascination with such gossip. There was a grossly unflattering article on the Emperor's failure to contain the debris created by the space-based shipyards, a few more editorials and trial reports, then a final article that triggered over thirty of her alerts.
Curious enough to give the matter her full attention, she opened the source file itself. It was obviously a rough copy of what was intended to be a lenghty report on careers in the Navy. The journalisty, she knew, was a dedicated Imperial and virulently anti-rebellion. Odd that the censors would outlaw such a blatanly propagandistic piece. From what she could tell, there were many interviews with crewmen on board the ships themselves. The rhetoric soon bored her, and she was ready to close the file when she saw a small army of gunmen and stormtroopers begin scrambling. She stopped the feed and hit replay.
"Well, I've been a member of this 'laser crew for three years now. It sure is a change from home."
"Where's home, soldier?"
The boy blushed. "Lotramos II. My family had a farm on--hey!"
At that point alarms began going off and the scramble started.
Kiz was frustrated. It had taken her weeks
He was very young, that was readily apparent. Still, it was obvious that his form was powerful and well defined. He stood a little short of average height, but the warmth in his dark eyes and the humor that danced across his face made height seem insignificant.
"We may be able to strike a deal after all, Antilles. Come with me."
(Thank you, I hope you enjoyed the story. Again, if you have questions about things I've written here, you're welcome to consult my F.A.Q. or to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.)