Star Wars: Dar'Aliit

Chapter Eighteen: Good Soldiers

19 BBY The Krayt

The other Dar'Aliit are rowdy as they disembark. "We showed those clankers!" Headshot pumps an arm in the air.

"Give us a few more weeks and we'll have the whole separatist fleet running with their tails between their legs!" Booker laughs, a rare noise from him.

Everyone's cocky today. I dump my helmet in my locker and glance in the mirror hanging there. A blaster score across my nose two weeks ago is still healing. I don't think I've looked this exhausted since Umbara.

We've been beaten and battered in every direction, but the other three still think we're winning. Maybe we are.

"Lieutenant!" a voice bellows in the room. I snap my locker shut.

"Sir." I turn. I'm too tired to salute the Captain, but he salutes me.

"Bridge."

"Aw, again?" Headshot asks.

"And you're not invited," Addie tells him.

Headshot pulls a face. Booker just rolls his eyes and mutters, "Be glad you're not the one called up there."

I know. Every day. To the bridge. More orders. Keep your head down. Be a good soldier. I've stopped getting yelled at, and the General tolerates my presence again. I don't know how much my compliance is working, but at least we've freed two more planets.

And lost countless more.

I stalk up to the bridge. I snap a two-fingered salute. Best I can muster after a four week campaign. The General doesn't even bother to look.

"At ease."

Addie alone relaxes.

"Lieutenant, you've brought home another win, but the war isn't over yet."

"Yessir."

"In light of your recent accolades, I've decided to deploy you solo again."

Instant galvanizing relief hits. The trenches have been mass pits of death and I'm about at the end of my wits. It's a wonder more of us don't go mad from watching the slaughter.

"Yessir?" I venture a step forward.

"This will be a classified mission. Starfall. I have sent the details to your data pad."

"When do I leave?"

"In a week. Until then, I've had your old astromech R3 reoutfitted."

I look around. I haven't seen R3 since Illandin. The droid rolls up a ramp from one of the command pits and beeps. He's a sight for sore eyes. He bumps against my leg. I pat his dome. "Thank you, sir."

"I should inform you, this mission is not one to be taken lightly, Lieutenant. It may decide the war."

I stand a little stiffer. "Understood."

"Go, Lieutenant."

I salute. "Yessir."

#

Project Starfall is the file name. I've read it a hundred times but I read it again as R3 pilots the ship. Nidor might hate me. He might not even care about a single human being, but if he's right and this could end the war, I have to succeed.

I want to see this universe at peace more than I could ever want to see Nidor's head roll at his feet.

Starfall is relatively simple, but nothing that looks simple ever is. An active Separatist information hub hidden in the atmosphere of Bespin. From there I just need to steal the drive that contains all of their recent communications. The station has everything from comm chatter to navigation charts, which means that drive will tell us exactly where the Separatists are going and what they're planning. We can get ahead of them, and strike first.