Sith Hunter - Sanders Sides AU

New Republicans

The New Republic was stationed on Hoth, the icy planet now the biggest trading planet in the galaxy. General Thomas Sanders was now the head of this huge organisation, a fair, kind man, once Rey Skywalkers' apprentice and now a Jedi master, with a green lightsaber. He was always busy, holding treaties, public speeches and displays of peace, or training younglings. However, he wasn't busy enough to have someone else sort out Roman Nova.

Roman Nova was a force of nature. He was an ace pilot, probably the best since Han Solo, and he never listened. He'd always be showing off or taking this too far, and it had always landed him in the medical bay. Roman was dashingly attractive, with startling, icy blue eyes and warm, healthy skin. He was eight at the time of Exegol's' fall, hooked forever on the way of the Jedi. Roman was now twenty, hair a soft, beautiful brown. He had a small, individual freckle on his neck, which was always visibly thanks to open collars and loose jackets. It had become almost a trademark, for it often managed to stand out, despite it being a single dot on someones' neck.

"Roman, as you know," Thomas began slowly, "You have often broken formation during aerial shows, combat and general flying."

The pilot winced slightly but shrugged. "Yeah, sorry about that..."

Thomas sighed. "There's nothing to apologise for but I have some... bad news for you."

"What is it, general?"

The Jedi master breathed in, convincing himself that it would be fine. He turned his gaze up to the ceiling, so he couldn't see the boys' shocked impression when he told him the news. "The Council and I have decided to put you back in the training course."

"What?!" The sound of a chair hitting the floor made Thomas look back at the man before him. Roman had jumped to his feet, face slack as he stared, stunned.

"You need to learn control, Roman. This is for your own benefit-"

"Bullshit!" Snapped Roman, furious. The pilot was known for brash emotions and Thomas was facing the blow of anger. "I'm the best pilot in the whole New Republic! You can't de-rank me!"

Thomas stood too, keeping himself calm. "I am not de-ranking you, Roman. This is only temporary. Once you've learnt to control yourself, you'll be welcomed back to your position." The young pilot was no longer furious, more stunned and upset. Roman stared at Thomas for pity or a change of mind but the general shook his head. The pilot gave up, storming from the room.

.:*:.

"Roman!" Called the young mans' engineer. Patton Freeson was a bright, short, bubbly man with a smattering of freckles across his face. "What did the general want?"

Roman groaned, collapsing at the side of his ship. "I'm going back to training. I need to hold back my brilliance and dull my sunlight until I'm as dull as dirt."

"A lovely metaphor, but it was ruined because you were using it to express your inflated ego." Said a familiar voice. One of Roman's' closest friends, Logan Croftstar, stood above him. His black hair was decorated with tiny snowflakes and his clothes were coated in white snow.

The pilot raised an eyebrow. "And why were you stomping around outside?"

"I wasn't stomping, one of my essays for the latest ship model blew away and I had to retrieve it," Logan replied, holding up a slightly soggy pile of paper. "I was hoping to dry it somewhere."

Roman smirked. "Wel, you're not going to now, nerd."

Patton gasped, excitedly. "What are we gonna do, today, kiddo?"

The pilot grinned. "We've gotta be stealthy and get inside the trophy room. Logan, you're coming with me. Patton, prepare the ship!"

Logan groaned audibly, placing the essay down on a box. "Alright, Roman. I shall accompany you." He said sulkily.

"Ooh, I'll get her to Hanger 2B, it's the closest to the trophy room!" Rambled Patton excitedly. "See you kiddos there!"

"What are we going to steal?" Inquired Logan while Patton pulled out tubes and wires from Roman's' ship.

Roman smirked deviously. "The Sith Wayfinder. We're gonna go to Exegol!"

.:*:.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Hissed Logan.

"You say that about everything," Roman hissed back. "Live a little, Croftstar!"

Logan glared. "I was living perfectly fine until you kept dragging me into trouble that could've gotten me fired, Nova-"

"Shush!"

A troop of New Republican soldiers marched past, their footsteps fading away. Roman waited and then darted into the trophy room. The trophy room was filled with artefacts from previous wars, losses and victories. There was Darth Vaders' mask, Kylo Ren's' mask and shards of a Star Destroyer. So many Sith-related objects, and then the one that they wanted.

The Sith Wayfinder was sitting on a podium, slightly behind the mask of Vader. Roman moved forwards silently as Logan slowly began to panic.

"If we get caught, I may be fired! I can't get fired, I'm far too important to the New Republic!"

"And you were making fun of my ego just a while ago. Be quiet, will you? I'm trying to focus." Roman snapped, shuffling forwards. Slowly, he rose up and reached out for the Wayfinder.

Logan hesitated. "When you take it, there will be a five-second delay before the alarm goes. Wait one minute so the patrol walking past right now is too far to catch us."

Roman nodded, shifting his feet to be prepared to sprint. Logan poised himself by the door, holding his hand up. Then he snapped it down and Roman snatched the Wayfinder between his fingers as Logan swung open the door. He leapt over the podium, dashing through the door and quickly followed by Logan. The pair were a metre or two away from the door when a wailing broke the steady beat of footsteps. Logan and Roman didn't stop, ducking past soldiers who didn't notice them in their hurry to get to the trophy room.

Bolting down, they started to draw attention to themselves as the stumbled into Hanger 2B. Roman hurled the Wayfinder at his ship and Patton caught it, jumping inside. Logan hurried up to the door of Roman's' ship, grabbing his friends' wrist to pull him in.

Soldiers started to run through into the hanger, lowering blasters when they saw three of their own. Thomas pushed past them and saw Roman's' ship begin to take off. He growled and the soldiers began to raise their blasters once more.

"Don't fire!" Ordered Thomas angrily. "Those three will be back and I shall have a talk with them. Get someone on look-out for that ship. The moment it lands here, I want to be notified."