Unseen Influence...

The small, gray Broadside -class cruiser slowly edged closer and closer to an unseen objective in the endless universe. It's engines cast an ultramarine glow on bits of space debris, twirling slowly in the weightlessness of the vacuum.
Jesha Ceras stood on the bridge of the Infinite, taking quick glances at the computer console, checking their coordinates.
"They should be here any minute, sir," the pilot said, sensing his captain's impatience.
"Yeah, well you know Bothans," Ceras said, tapping the gold ring on his thumb against a metal girder. "If there is any sign of Imperials, we ditch, you got it?"
"Understood, sir."
Ceras enjoyed the pilot he had been assigned. He could barely remember the name from when they had been introduced. Joris, he believed it was. The kid was excellent at the helm of even the most unmaneveurable piece of junk in the entire galaxy, and he was only seventeen. Joris was polite, and respected his superiors. That was more than he could say for the other cocky, hotshot pilots he had encountered in his long haul with the Genoharadan.
"I'm going to get some caf in the galley," Jesha told Joris. "Gimme a holler if anything shows up." He paused. "But you don't need to notify me if any Imps expose their plastoid heads. Just get us the hell out of here."
"Yep. I got ya." Joris said, settling back in his seat.
The galley was pretty much an improvised luxury aboard the old Imperial junk-heap. As soon as the Genoharadan had acquired the Infinite, they had squeezed the galley into the old armory.
Only a few hundred Broadside cruisers still resided under Imperial jurisdiction. The ones they had retired eventually found their way into the scrapyard. Not even low-budget crime organizations wanted them. If Ceras got it right, the Infinite was one of two Broadsides left in the Genoharadan navy. They were only years away from retirement as well. Poor Infinite would become unceremoniously finite.
Jesha poured out the old caf on the bottom of the pot. It had been sitting on the burner for the better part of three hours. Once he had prepared a second batch, he walked back to the command deck, clenching a hot mug.
Suddenly, the floor vibrated under his feet. Joris hollered.
"I'm know! I'm coming!"
Ceras ran to the command deck as fast as he could without spilling his hot beverage.
"They finally arrived Captain," Joris said, pointing out the wide viewport.
The huge Mon Cal star cruiser glided toward them, it's creamy-white paint scheme distinguishing it sharply against the black. A highly accented voice hailed them over the intercom.
This is the Freedom's Warrior. Please identify yourself.
"Just check their IR tags before we respond," Ceras bent down and spoke softly in Joris' ear. "We don't want to be caught in an Imp sting."
"Everything matches up with the info they gave us," Joris responded, looking up at Jesha. Jesha reached down and tapped the com.
"This is the Infinite. Hello Warrior, come in Warrior."
Right. Checking your IR tags now. There was a crackly pause on the speaker. Good. Prepare for docking sequence.
Jesha walked down the long hallways of the Freedom's Warrior, its red lights casting a dark glow on the passageways. A Rebel crewer bumped into his Bothan escort, and the alien's fur rippled in annoyance.
"In here," the Bothan said, gesturing to a small doorway. It was definitely a rarely-used conference room. Perfect for undercover dealings. Jesha walked in, and the Bothan left, closing the door behind him. Before him was a narrow, but long hallway. White lights lining the ceiling, starkly enhanced the walls' blaring white color. The hallway led into a small, blue room. In the middle, seated at a large, wood desk, sat Borsk Fey'lya. Two human bodyguards stood at his side. The Bothan ran his eyes up and down Jesha's figure, as if he was trying to size him up. Obviously dissatisfied with his assessment, he flared his nostrils.
Oh, no.
Ceras knew about Bothan arrogance, but this guy looked like a real case. He was about to be sold the most important intelligence the Rebel Alliance could recieve, and then take credit for it, and yet he openly appeared and acted aloof.
"Conduct a sweep," the Bothan leader ordered, and the bodyguards began sweeping the walls with rod-like devices.
"They're just debugging the room," he explained to Ceras, who nodded in return. Both waited for the guards to finish before any of them dared speak.
"Do you have the information with you?" Fey'lya asked, directing another disdainful look Jesha's way.
"Do you have the money on you?" Jesha shot back. The Bothan seemed to be taken back for a minute, as if he was surprised that anyone would dare question him.
"Of course," Fey'lya said, standing up and straightening his crimson straight-jacket with his furry hands. He took an electronic key from around his neck and pressed it on a small space on his desk. A small door opened, and the Bothan fished out a small credit chip.
"Fifteen million credits are in this chip. Just like agreed."
"Just as agreed," Jesha affirmed.
"Just for interest," Borsk began, gesturing to a chair. Jesha took the seat. "Why does your organization want to help the Rebellion in such a way, and furthermore, not take credit for this amazing intel?" The Bothan lit a deathstick and puffed it. He offered Ceras one.
"No thank you," he said, waving his hand. "Why? I'm, unfortunately, not at liberty to discuss those matters."
Once again, Fey'lya looked offended, and flared nostrils once more.
"The intel?" Borsk asked. "I've paid you, now where is it?"
Ceras grimaced, and pulled a small pendant from his pocket. Opening it, he retrieved a small chip, barely the size of a fingernail.
"This has all the information you need. The weapon's location, and the locations of its defences. Trooper rosters, naval strength, the amount of stormtrooper toe-nail clippings ejected into space each day; everything." Jesha emphasized the last part. "Just remember. You cannot disclose Genoharadan's involvement in your operation against this second Death Star. It could bring grave consequences."
"I understand."
"Good day," Ceras said, standing up. He offered the Bothan his hand. They shook, and Jesha left the room, the two bodyguards escorting him out.
"How did it go?" Joris asked, as soon as his captain came aboard.
"All went well," he said. "The information is now in Rebel hands. Hopefully, they will use it wisely."
"Are you sure they'll succeed?"
"They're the best candidates for the job. Much more organized and much larger than any of the other freedom fighters."
"Do you think they could form another Republic?" Joris asked, looking doubtful. Ceras took a long sigh. It was a thought he had pondered on for years. Only time could tell what the Rebellion could do.
"If they do, I'll be impressed. If they don't, it'll be our job to create one in their place." Joris nodded his head.
This is the Freedom's Warrior. Prepare to release.
"Preparing release," Joris responded, and put his hands on the control yoke. There was a slight vibration as the Infinite disattatched with the docking port. The young pilot twisted the ship away sharply.
"Hold on. Setting hyperspace coordinates to Nirauan." Ceras held onto a low metal girder as the viewport was filled with starlines. There was a sharp jolt, and they were underway.
The Genoharadan had done all it could do at the moment. They were no military; they had to leave the fighting up to the Rebellion. Ceras hoped that today would be the beginning of the end for the Empire. He knew it was a high hope, and even if the Death Star was destroyed, it would take much longer for the Empire to finally fall.
"I'm going to my bunk," Ceras said, patting Joris' shoulder. Pushing his ponderings to the back of his head, he lay back and fell asleep.

Transcript Number Eleven

Please state your name for the record.

My name is Randolph Emmett Mason.

I understand you are here to confess a crime.

Yes. I am a murderer.

When did you kill this person, Randolph?

People.

People?

I killed six people.

I see. When did you kill these people, Randolph?

A couple of years ago. December. Right at the end of the War.

Please tell me exactly what happened.

I needed money. Lots of ex-soldiers walking around with scraps of metal floating in their bodies, in pain morning to night, I figured I could scrape up cash with minor surgeries. Digging out mini-balls and shrapnel. Didn't seem real hard at the time.

Have you had any medical training, Randolph?

No.

How long did you masquerade as a doctor?

Month and change. I didn't try to cheat anyone, honest I didn't, but I guess seeing how I never stayed in one place for long there might be unflattering stories about me. Anyway I want to get to the killing. I feel real bad about it.

Tears are not recorded on this transcript, Mr. Mason. Only words.

Sorry, I'll get a hold of myself. Sorry. Anyway I did some toothaches and finger-splints and I don't know what the hell, and then back somewhere in the root-cellars of Pennsylvania I came across this family with a man who got something bad in his leg. Maybe didn't seem so serious when they discharged him, but the longer he worked his farm the worse it got. When I came by there was this great black spot on his thigh like oak blight. The smell was unbelievable. He told me he'd seen other men die of leg-rot. He wanted me to amputate.

You thought there was money to be had in that part of the country?

Maybe not dollars, but barter was good.

You mean, if you cut off his leg he'd give you some butter, or apples, or some such.

Haunch of pork in this case. I didn't know what I'd do with it but I felt so bad I said yes.

So you amputated?

Yeah. I had them fetch me a saw from the barn. I'd seen it done once or twice. I figured with some good strong boys to hold him down we'd get through all right.

Did you?

We--

Randolph, I can't record weeping. You have to speak if you want this in the transcript.

We got through. He died on the table. I've never seen so much blood. He screamed and flailed right to the end. I can't get it out of my mind. He was terrified. He didn't want to die. He kept begging someone to help him. I didn't know what to do, he just kept bleeding and bleeding. In the end I had to stand there and watch him fade away. His crying and mumbling got weaker and softer and then his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he was dead. We stood a long time quiet and then the family came over and thanked me for doing my best. They said that sometimes it was just God's will and I did what I could. They said they still wanted to pay me for my time. I said I didn't want anything but they said they wouldn't feel right without giving me something. I took that haunch of pork in my bag and I left. I walked and walked until I was sure I'd never see those people again.

You said you killed six people, Randolph.

Couldn't stand the weight of that pork on my shoulder. Felt like I was carrying the dead man's leg with me everywhere. Couldn't even bring myself to cook it and eat a single bite. In the end I stopped at this rundown hut with a dirty family of sharecroppers and I gave it to them. They cooked and ate it that very night. I wouldn't have any, said I was fasting. Only, there was something bad in the haunch. I don't know if it was there to begin with or maybe it grew in there when I spent all that time packing it around or what, but the whole family starting puking and swelling up, one after another. They turned purple-green, a like the color of that leg-rot. Once I saw that I got the hell out of there, I don't know what happened to them but if they're not dead you go ahead and shoot me right here.

I see.

So, that's it. That's what I wanted to tell you.

You have nothing more to add?

No, I told it all. I had to get it off my chest, it's given me nightmares for over a year now. I can't stand it any more. I got to get a good night's sleep.

Thank you, Randolph. As you can see I've written it all down. You can return to your room now.

ADDENDUM: Let the record show that Randolph Emmett Mason has confessed to eleven murders now since he was admitted to this facility in the Year of Our Lord 1869. So far none of them have born the slightest resemblance to the strangling of his wife Laura Ann Mason in April of that year. Unfortunately his periods of lucidity are decreasing and the board of examiners has come to believe that Mr. Mason will probably never achieve a level of recovery permitting discharge. Signed this 7th day of November 1879 Lawrence M. Harriman, physician attending.

Where there is Hope (revised)

“Leia… we are coming out of Hyperspace now,” said Bail Organa, hoping this would get her out of the sour mood he had seen from her for the entire trip back from Coruscant. Unfortunately, all this news did was make Leia heave a huge sigh of frustration and sink even deeper into her seat. The datapad in her hands she brought closer to her face, pretending to read the contents with much more concentration than was needed.

Bail sighed, and left her to read in peace until they landed.

“Do you think she will let me back in yet sir?” Asked the ever-calm Winter.

“Possibly, it wouldn’t hurt for you to try. I just wish I knew what was making her so moody.”

“I wish I knew as well sir,” Winter replied as she got up to go join her charge.

Leia continued to pretend to be interested in the datapad as she entered the room. But for all the effort she put on for her father, she couldn’t keep it up as Winter just sat across from her and waited her out. At least Bail gave up. But Winter simply sat there, behaving far better that Leia herself could behave, even when she felt like it. She smiled to her-self. Winter’s behavior had gotten her mistaken on more than one account for Leia. While she found this funny, Winter did not. Leia had been known to receive a small look if she started to giggle when it happened. Finally, she could stand it no longer. With another sigh, Leia got up, dropped the datapad on the table and went to sit next to her.

“I am interested in Politics right now,” Leia blurted out, “I came on this trip because I wanted to see the Capitol and all the excitement. I wanted to observe all I have been learning about in action, but all I did was sit and listen to long winded speeches and this and that, power and might, on and on and on…What’s the point of learning all this debating and such if I never get to use it?”

“My only question Highness is why aren’t you telling this to your father?” Winter replied, calmly changing her position to undo and fix Leia’s hair that she had messed up while squishing herself to the back of her previous seat.

“I don’t know, I guess because I don’t want to bother him”, Leia changed position to give Winter more room; “He has much more to worry about than to listen to me complain about something he has probably known about for years.”

“But he agreed to let you come. So he must be expecting you to ask a few questions.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to be an annoyance.”

“You are most certainly not an annoyance. Go ahead and tell him what you thought. He will give you an answer. He always does.”

With a final look-over, Winter finished fixing Leia’s hair. Just afterwards, they both felt a small jerk as the ship landed and the hiss of the airlock and hatch opened. Both girls got up and followed Bail out onto the landing platform there his wife was waiting for them.

“I am glad to see you all back safely,” Breha said, giving Bail a quick peck and asking, “How was the session?”

“More of the same I’m afraid.” Bail replied with frustration, “But I will tell you more once we are settled.”

“Leia”, Breha next swooped down to her daughter for a hug, which Leia gave only half-heartedly. “Did you have a good time?”

“It was alright,” Leia replied, ignoring the look she got from Winter, “I just wish it had been a bit less boring and there had been more debating. Are all the Emperor’s speeches that long?”

“I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you make out to be dear. You may one day find them enlightening. Now, go get ready for Dinner, we are having a guest.” As Leia and Winter went on their way (Leia was running as fast as she could with Winter yelling at her to slow down), Breha turned to Bail and asked, “Was it really that boring?”

“It was the longest speech I have ever had to sit through.” Bail replied with a smile.

“So, she had a point?”

“A very good one.”


“I thought you were going to tell him,” Winter gasped out as they reached Leia’s room, “But instead all you said was that it was boring?”

“I figured he would take the hint for now,” Leia gasped back, reaching up and keying the door open. “It’s not like I was secretive about it. By the way, who is the guest?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Winter called as she went into the closet, “But I suppose we should assume important, and…casual?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Winter came out of the closet with several outfits in hand. “Pick one you like and I will match it.”

“Um… The pants and tunic. Are there any amulets?” Leia asked as she started to peel off the traveling clothes. They were much dirtier that she had originally thought.

“Check the box. I’m not entirely sure,” Winter called back. “And see if there are any earrings.”

In five minutes, both girls were ready. Leia had chosen a set of pale blue loose pants and a matching tunic with a necklace of silver squares that she had gotten from her father for her birthday a year before. Around her waist was something special. Only months ago, Leia had been formally named the Princess of Aleraan. With this new title, came a symbol of the power and responsibility. A belt made specifically for her. The silver belt had the markings of the Royal house set symmetrically with those of the Organa family; recognizing her officially as a member of the royal family.

Upon entering the large dining room used for these special dinners, Leia immediately saw that this dinner was not going to be as bad as she had thought. The guest her mother had mentioned was Mon Mothma. One of her fathers friends form the Senate.

While Leia had known her father had friends in the Senate, he had never had any over for dinner before. Or, at least she had not known about it. Governors and Officers were to be expected. However, rarely did Bail invite personal friends to dinner with the family.

“Leia, How nice to see you,” Mon Mothma said as Leia came over to greet her.

“It is nice to see you as well, Senator.” Leia replied as they all went to sit down.

The dinner was not very exciting, and it did not help that for the main course was Duck. Leia hated Duck; both alive and dead. They were awkward, like the dinner. It was mostly Bail chatting with Mon about the most recent set of speeches. Breha chimed in a few times with a question, but mostly just listened. Leia pretended to be interested only in her food, but she paid close attention to their reiterations, hoping to be able to make an intelligent comment, just to prove that she understood. But as the dinner wore on, she found it difficult to pop in. She was so consumed by her thoughts that she just barely noticed when Bail mentioned that she had come with him on the latest trip.

“Really, and what did you think Leia?” Mon Mothma was asking.

Jolted back into the present, all Leia could say at first was nonsense. She had never participated in these conversations, this was her first try.

“Huh? Oh, the trip…well…it was mostly confusing.”

“In what way?” Bail asked, “I’m sure we can clarify them for you.”

Startled by the answer the she had somehow known would come, Leia remained quiet for a moment. She then turned to glance at Winter. Winter glanced back, smiled, and nodded.

“My main problem is that I don’t see the exact purpose of The Galactic Senate. Is there a specific purpose?”

“Well,” Bail began, “The Senate’s main job is to provide the opinions of all the systems to the Emperor to help in his decision making process.”

“I didn’t mean the taught version; I would like your opinions. You both have been in your positions since before the Empire. What are the differences? What stayed the same? Of what changed, were they for the better, or not?”

All three adults were silent. Bail and Mon Mothma glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Such questions lead to dangerous answers, and therefore should not be discussed in certain settings. In the end, it was Breha who saved them both from answering.

“Leia dear, I think we should leave those questions for the classroom. Why don’t after dinner, you write them down to ask at a later date?”

After dinner, when Leia and Winter had left, the three adults all sat together in a private room.

“After the way she behaved this afternoon, I most certainly did not expect Leia to come up with those questions,” Bail said in disbelief, “she never gave off that impression.”

“What do you mean ‘never gave off that impression’?” Breha laughed, “Did you think her wanting to go with you was a fluke? She is quite mature already Bail. She knows what she was saying.”

“Even so,” Mon Mothma commented, “Her outward ness could get her into trouble. We, especially you, Bail, need to be careful. She might let something slip.”

“Not if she is anything like her mother,” Bail countered, “I think we should see where this goes for a while. By the next session, I think we will be able to discern whether or not to continue.”

“Very well,” Mon Mothma stood up, “I will leave this to you. Anyway, I must be off. Thank you ever so much Breha for the lovely dinner. Good Night.”

One month later…

“You’re sure about this?” Breha was not convinced. “I don’t think she is ready for this burden.”

“I’m positive,” Bail assured his wife, “Over the past month she has grown even more confident and curious. It is time she saw for herself and was introduced. She needs to be well known and well liked. We need to encourage this while we can.”

Breha nodded in understanding. They gave each other a goodbye kiss as Leia came out with Winter.

“All set?” Bail asked.

“All set.” Leia replied.

“Before you go,” Breha stopped Leia, “I have a present for you. Go on, open it.”

From under her cloak, Breha pulled a package. Leia looked at it with interest. I was not normal for her to receive something when there was no holiday. The package had some weight to it, but had no set structure. It moved with ease when she pulled the flap up. Out of the package came a bright white dress. It was plain, there were no special seams, or embroidery, the only different thing about it was a large hood attached to the back. However, the package was not yet empty. Still inside, was another white dress. This one, however, was form fitting and had a small drape for the back and arms.

“For the Session and Reception, in that order.” Breha was beaming, “Your new belt goes with both of them. I want you to make a good impression.”

“Thank you.” This was all Leia could think of to say. She was speechless. She was still in a daze as she hugged her mother and the ship lifted off.

As the stars turned to lines and they entered Hyperspace, Bail came in.
“Leia, we need to talk about a few things before reaching Coruscant.”

“Alright,” Leia said with a similar serious tone, realizing that this was important. As she sat down next to him she asked, “Should Winter hear this as well?”

“No, Winter already knows.” Bail smiled, “This is very important, especially for you.” With that, Bail began:

“At about the time you were born Leia, there was a big change in the Republic.
We had been at war for nearly three years, and signs of stress and need for closure were popping up. Many Senators were worried, including Mon Mothma and myself. The Supreme Chancellor had too much power. We feared that when the war was over, he would not relinquish them. In the end, we were right.

“Palpatine Eventually called an emergency session, and told all of the Senate of an elaborate plan to take over by the Jedi that had failed. He said his deformity was a result of their attempt to kill him. As a result, Palpatine declared himself Emperor ‘in order to ensure the security and continuing stability of the Republic.’”

“But it is no longer a Republic if there is an Emperor,” Leia added, “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Exactly,” Bail Beamed, “There isn’t a Republic anymore. There is an Empire. As such, many changes came pouring in. Nothing we Senators said really mattered anymore. Governors have been given more and more power. In reality, The Imperial Senate means nothing anymore. It is simply there for transition. It has no real power, and could disappear at any moment.”

“So is anyone doing something about it?” Leia asked, looking at Bail.

“We—are trying,” Bail began.

“When you say ‘we’, whom do you mean?”

“Mon Mothma, myself, and others. We strive to make our points better heard and attempt to stop The Empire as best we can in certain ventures.”

“In other words, a rebellion.” By this time, Leia was smirking inside with satisfaction. She was finally finding the underlying cause of all Bail’s strange behavior over the past month. Things were starting to fall into place.

“We prefer to think of it as an Alliance,” Bail smiled. “Interested?”

“Darth Vader couldn’t keep me away.”

To himself Bail thought ‘I hope I don’t have a bad feeling about this.’