CC: Refuge

[Medivh]

Sketchy Map for purposes of this and subsequent posts.

W= The Wheel space station
N = Gravity Well NETS
D = the Droid Control Ship
P = Defensive PLATFORM
C = Construction Platform - specifically, the one that was attacked, and is where the gravity well nets were mostly built.
O = Space (filled with ships and other fun stuff)
I = Imperial's Main Fleet
R = Imperial Pirate Fleet

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOONOOOOONOOOOOONOOO
OOOOOPOOOPOOOODOPOOO
OOOOIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOINOPOWOPOOOOPONOOO
OOOOIOOOOPOOOOCOROOOOO
OOOOOOPOOPOOPOPOOOOO
OOOOONOOOOONOOOONOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO





The Wheel

The room was empty.  Lying on the bed, a piece of paper that filled Mara with dread.

I'm sorry, Aunt Mara. I had to go

Mara didn't hear the sirens begin to wale, or the station-wide intercomm signalling that there was more than just a pirate raid, but a full on attack from imperials.  She just stared at the note, and felt lost.  Riley was gone. No, not just gone - had left.  He had rejected her as a guardian.  Without him, she almost felt useless.  He had been her greatest connection to humans for the past decade, and now, he just left, and she felt a hollow pit in her stomach.

She was also afraid - afraid for the boy she had raised, and the trouble he might get into.  Where had he run off to?  Gemma Masterton was the first guess.  That burst message from yesterday, and his desire to get in touch with her.  Did Riley know where Gemma was?  And if HE knew, who else may have found out?

Finally, a blaring siren brought Mara out of her thoughts, and more intercomm signals.

"All Wheel residents are to report to their assigned conflict stations.  This is not a drill.  Repeat, not a drill - we are under attack"

It occurred to Mara that Riley may not have actually made it off the station - he may have found himself stuck in a hangar, jostled among who knows how many people, trying to get away from the big bad star destroyers.  There was only one way to find out.  And at the moment, that might actually put him in greater danger than getting away.

Moving to the computer console, fingers flying as she unlocked it with her access codes, and began digging into the onboard systems.  The Wheel had an elaborate surveillance system, including immediately outside her door.  She pulled up the camera view and rewound the display, until just a short while ago - there it was - Riley stepping out of the apartment, glancing both ways and hurrying down the corridor, a small pack on his shoulder.  Mara used the surveillance system to track him, following him down to the hangar, watching what the ship's crew never saw - him slipping in.  Mara watched the time stamp as the ship sealed and took off, just a few minutes earlier.  They were leaving just as the attack had begun.

Mara pulled out her comm unit, contacting the Wheel's Traffic Control.

"This is Mara Tacofer.  What is the status of Ship 387-D-69?"
"Miss Tacofer, we are a bit-"
"I don't care what you are. I need to know the status of that ship!"
There was a pause, and a moment later, she got an answer.
"The ship was released without escort a few minutes ago"
"Did they enter hyperspace?"
"Miss Tacofer, I don't know.  We've been focusing on the attack.  We have no records of anything after they were released"
"See if you can track the ship in the system"
"Miss Tacofer - we are under ATTACK.  What makes one freight ship so important?"

Mara was not in the mood to deal with this, and while she acknowledged the difficulty of the situation, she was not going to mess around, not until she knew Riley was safe.

"There is a classified Federation VIP aboard that freighter.  If anything happens to him because you fail to provide me with the information I require, I will personally make sure you never have another job in the Trade Federation again.  Am I clear?"

There was a pause, and finally he spoke again, much more timidly.

"My scanners are reporting no sign of the vessel. There is also no debris matching that ship's readout"

Mara let out a sigh of relief. Riley, was at least safe from this battle.  And while Mara could do nothing for him at the moment, she knew that she could help here - and then try to retrace Riley's steps.

"Thank you, cadet. Now, what is the status of the battle?"

"The imperial formation is doing some unpredictable maneuvers, Miss Tacofer.  It's hard to anticipate their moves, and counter them.  They have fired at the Wheel from three directions, and the pirate fleet seems to be busy at the fourth."

"What is their goal?"

"It is unclear, Ma'am.  They aren't firing everything at the Wheel itself, but we have certain defensive emplacements.  It seems they are hitting everything almost at random.  Their star destroyers are engaged against or frigates, but smaller auxiliary craft keep popping in and out of hyperspace"

Mara took in this information and began processing the strategy, as she perceived it.  It wasn't a straight up attack.  The pirates had been a diversion to get them off balance - but then, the imperial main fleet seemed to be attacking in a way that was also a diversion.  Why not the full frontal assault?

Then it occurred to Mara - they weren't just trying to destroy the Wheel.  They were here to get something as well.  Skirmishing like this would mean that the Imperials were keeping Federation attention on defensive maneuvers at the Wheel itself.  So what was the main target?

"Cadet, notify the Administrator that I am heading to the executive docking bay, and that he should have a dozen federation soldiers meet me there.  Also, order a medical team to evacuate the VIP medical suite"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"And signal the activation of the gravity well nets"

Mara stepped out of her apartment and moved at a brisk pace toward the hangar.  If she was right, the Imperials were going to make off with some key Federation technology - and then destroy the Wheel for offering that tech to the Republic.  Revenge, plus huge gains, all in one.  Even if the Empire couldn't destroy the Wheel, they could still get what they wanted, and set the Federation back months in terms of income and production.

Mara hoped that her final order would help in slowing the imperials.  The cadet had indicated they were entering and exiting hyperspace, seemingly at random.  The Wheel, located in a deep space region, did not have a natural gravity well, allowing that kind of rapid hyperspace activity.  When they began producing gravity well nets for the Republic, Mara had ordered about a dozen to be placed in a ring on the outskirts of the Wheel and its adjacent facilities.  In theory, it would keep thieves and pirates from escaping, pulling them out of hyperspace seconds after they entered.  But it would also mean that any ships on the outskirts of the system couldn't disappear and reappear elsewhere that quickly.  At least until the nets were destroyed.

Mara just hoped there was enough time - to protect the Federation technology, to save the people on the Wheel, to save everything she had built for the last ten years.  The imperials were messing with her life, and she was taking it personally.

**********************************

In the medical wing, Garron Prescott was mindfully watching Rutherford, contemplating the roller coaster of emotions he felt toward Mara.  He was falling for her, that was clear enough. What he wasn't certain of was her feelings toward him.  She had been avoiding him ever since he had kissed her, and their encounters since had made him feel awkward.  So, much like Mara had done, he engulfed himself in his assignment.  Only his assignment was basically nothing - watching a comatose individual day after day.

Now though, something had happened.  The medical wing had no windows, but sirens were blaring, and the intercomm was reporting an attack.  He was about to contact Mara, or a doctor, or someone, when a team of soldiers burst into the wing.

"Mr. Prescott - we have orders to evacuate this area"
"Evacuate?  Is the medical wing in danger?"
"The entire station is in danger, sir.  We have orders from Miss Tacofer that we are to get you and Mr. Gellar off of this station and out of harms way as soon as possible."
"And where is Miss Tacofer?"
"She was meeting a team of troops in the hangar."
"To do what?"
"I'm afraid we cannot say, sir.  But we have our orders regarding you.  We don't know how long our defenses will hold, and apparently, you and Mr. Gellar are a priority.  Will you come with us?"

Garron looked over at Rutherford, nodding his head silently.  He had to protect Rutherford Gellar, that was his task.  What this special order from Mara meant, he couldn't focus on until he and his employer were safe.

If that was even possible.

"Let's go"

TBC

[Medivh]

Sketchy Map for purposes of this and subsequent posts.

W= The Wheel space station
N = Gravity Well NETS
D = the Droid Control Ship
P = Defensive PLATFORM
C = Construction Platform - specifically, the one that was attacked, and is where the gravity well nets were mostly built.
O = Space (filled with ships and other fun stuff)
I = Imperial's Main Fleet
R = Imperial Pirate Fleet

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOONOOOOONOOOOOONOOO
OOOOOPOOOPOOOODOPOOO
OOOOIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOINOPOWOPOOOOPONOOO
OOOOIOOOOPOOOOCOROOOOO
OOOOOOPOOPOOPOPOOOOO
OOOOONOOOOONOOOONOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Wheel

Mara reached the Executive Bay when she felt the shudder of the impact - a fleet's worth of concussion missiles impacting on the Wheel.  Even if it brought the shield down, the station would not be destroyed so quickly - The diameter of the Wheel was about 1/4 the size of the First Death Star, and even significant damage would take a long time before it impacted the station's integrity.  But the Empire had time, unless the Federation's defenses could make a successful strike to push back imperial forces.

Mara's bigger concern, at the moment, was for the less protected, and less obvious target.  With a team of Federation armed personnel, they boarded a heavy assault shuttle and rushed out of the bay.

Instantly, everything became more chaotic.  Outside of the Wheel's protection, they were immediately accosted by imperial TIE fighters, seeking targets.  The impact of their lasers could already be felt as they struck against the shuttle's shields.  Three TIEs were now on the shuttle's tail, and shields dipped below 50%.

Even as things started looking dire, the TIEs let up, as a squad of Federation fighters came to their rescue, and Mara watched the dance of lasers out the viewport, before making her way to the cockpit.

"Move as fast as you can - we don't have much time"

It wasn't clear to the pilot what they were rushing toward - the battle was moving behind them, with the Wheel and its defenses standing against the imperial fleet.  Still, he followed orders, and soon they were approaching the construction platform.

From the outside, they could see the remnants of the explosion - one side of the platform was blown out into space, and wisps of smoke could be seen trickling out from where the containment field was damaged.  Rather than heading toward the blown out portion of the station, Mara had the shuttle loop around to a docking port on the opposite side.

Ordering troops to put on oxygen masks - and placing one on herself, for show - she led them into the eerily quiet station.
Main electricity had clearly been damaged - emergency lights were activated, and as they got further into the station, the eerie glow cast shadows on the walls.

"weapons out"

At this point, the team did not need to be told twice - with weapons drawn, they moved forward into the platform.  For several minutes, they moved until they reached an entrance to a catwalk, overlooking the machinery that churned out the various technologies the station produced.  At a signal, they burst through the door.  That was when Mara's suspicions first were confirmed.

On the ground nearby, a security officer lay, a dozen blaster holes through his chest.

"We need to destroy the platform - before the imperials escape"
"What about the crew?"
"The crew are going to be dead.  The imperials are here to steal from the Federation.  We cannot allow them to do that."

Without waiting for a reply, Mara now ran down the catwalk, the soldiers trying to keep up as she wound her way through the conveyors to a locked chamber, where the platform's central computers were located.  Mara inputted her credentials, and after a moment, the door began to open with a hiss.

And in response, a rush of firepower seemed to nip at their heels. Mara felt the singe as a laserbolt hit her legs.

"take cover"

By the time the door was all the way open, the enemy was visible - imperials - and firing with abandon at Mara and her team.  Mara grabbed the railing of the catwalk, swinging herself over the ledge, and holding on, while the rest of her team ducked behind a handful of crates that were (luckily) sitting on the walkway.  With her feet dangling, one hand gripping the rail, and the other holding her blaster, Mara began to assess her options.

The entrance was narrow enough that the imperials could hold them off while they continued their attempts to escape with the treasured specs.  Mara had to find another way.  With her troops deep in firefight, Mara released the railing, letting herself fall to the machinery below. Her injured leg sent a wave of signals, indicating to her that the stress of being shot and then landing on a foot was not what her body wanted.  Mara chose to ignore the signal, instead, walking quickly through the deactivated machine toward the end of the assembly line.

There, sitting inocuously, about five-meters by five-meters long, a compacted version of the gravity well net - ready to be shipped out.  It looked much like a rectangular prism, with a sphere jutting out of the middle of it.  Mara drew closer, placing her hand on the sphere, and then pausing.

The platforms were designed to be tamper proof.  Attempts to capture them, break into their circuitry, or otherwise steal the tech would trigger a self-destruct.  The ultimate in proprietary protection.  Mara only hoped that the self-destruct hadn't been activated yet.  Both because she needed it, and because if it was, her next act would be suicidal.

Moving her hand until it found a break in the metal, she ushered her strength together, pounding her fingers in through the metal, and yanking the casing off.  It was not a clean cut, but the device did not explode.  Mara let out a breathe of relief and began searching through the wiring for the component she needed.  She could still hear the battle up ahead, and she had to hurry.

Finally, she found what she needed, a box, connected to a series of other wires that went directly to the system's circuitry.  The gravity well self destruct was built much like a thermal detonator with a dead-man switch activated.  If the power source was disabled through ion technology, it would stop sending a signal to the detonator, and the explosion would occur.

Yanking the box and the attached power source free of the net, she hurried back to the battle, moving underneath the catwalk and the computer control room.  She placed the items she had collected down, setting to work, trying desperately to activate it.

Then she felt the weapon at the back of her neck.

"hold it right there"

Mara did not have time to think about a response.  Dropping the power source, she turned abruptly, grabbing the blaster from the imperial's hand, twisting it away as he fired, and then hitting his white helmet with the butt of the gun.  He fell back against the machinery, and Mara aimed the weapon, firing a half dozen shots at the area where his neck armor and helmet were not entirely aligned.  Blood sprayed as the man, gurgling, fell to the ground.

She turned and finished connecting the circuit, activating the weapon, and then taking a dozen or so steps back, moving behind a beam, aiming her own blaster at the device, and firing at the circuit wire she had just connected.  The wire fizzled, a moment passed.

And then boom.

TBC

[Medivh]

Sketchy Map for purposes of this and subsequent posts.

W= The Wheel space station
N = Gravity Well NETS
D = the Droid Control Ship
P = Defensive PLATFORM
C = Construction Platform - specifically, the one that was attacked, and is where the gravity well nets were mostly built.
O = Space (filled with ships and other fun stuff)
I = Imperial's Main Fleet
R = Imperial Pirate Fleet

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOONOOOOONOOOOOONOOO
OOOOOPOOOPOOOODOPOOO
OOOOIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOINOPOWOPOOOOPONOOO
OOOOIOOOOPOOOOCOROOOOO
OOOOOOPOOPOOPOPOOOOO
OOOOONOOOOONOOOONOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Wheel
Activating Computer Subroutines ...
Scanning for Errors ...
Assessing Damage ...
Report complete ... Status: Functional

Mara's eyes blinked open, even as her systems continued running their diagnostic.  She had taken cover, but an explosion was an explosion afterall.  Even now, she was grasping onto the nearest beam as she felt the suction from the explosion site.

The self-destruct on the gravity well nets was designed to ensure it never fell into oppositional hands, and thus the blast radius of the detonation was meant to be about 5 by 5 meters - the length of the full satellite.

Of course, that was in open space, and with the detonator insulated inside the mechanics.  Mara had removed the explosive and set it loose here on the construction platform.  And it had performed much as she had anticipated.  The explosion had radiated in 360 degrees of direction.  The floor had been the hardest surface, and though it had given way - a large hole was now where the detonator had been - it's heaviness made most of the damage go outward and upward, against the ceiling and into the control room, supported mostly by a catwalk-style frame.  The entire control room had been blown out, much of the debris had collapsed down - and was even now being sucked into the holes at the top and bottom of the platform.  Imperial troops, or what was left of them, were also being sucked out into the vacuum of space.

Her own troops, who had been fighting valiently near the entrance of the control room, had fared only marginally better.  Of the team she came in with, only a few  seemed to be alive, moaning of personal injuries even as the clung to the collapsed catwalk for dear life.  Mara was glad she had insisted on the oxygen masks, but wasn't sure it would save them even now.

What was worse, there were alarms and sirens going off indicating not only a loss of oxygen throughout the interior of the platform, but that the structural integrity of the platform itself was failing.  She could hear the groan of metal protesting against the depressurization, which confirmed her worst suspicions - either the platform would collapse on her and the troops with her, or they (without the benefit of fully pressurized suits) would explode in a matter of minutes as their bodies failed to equilabrate.  Uncertain if any imperials had escaped or not, she wasn't about to let more of her team die.

Pulling herself forward, Mara reached the soldiers, barely conscious and clinging to life.

"We are getting out of here - we did what we had to. We stopped them.  Let's go"

The words were enough (for now) to get the soldiers out of their stupor, they began to follow Mara's lead, clawing at the torn catwalk, using it like a ladder toward the bay where they left their ship.

The platform groaned again, and a pipe overhead suddenly bent and snapped, a greenish gas spewing forth, being sucked, like the air, toward the hole in the platform.

"Keep moving!  We've got to go faster!"

Mara glanced behind her at the remnants of the control room and noticed that pieces of computers still sparked every few seconds.  If the gas hit the sparks, with just enough oxygen in the mix ...  Mara picked up her pace, reaching the door lock and knocking it open as quickly as she could.  The door pushed in on her, as oxygen from the cooridor began to be sucked inside, and she pushed, harder, rushing out and holding the door wide as the draft zoomed inward.

More alarms.  With one hand holding the door, she grabbed the arm of the first soldier to reach her, pulling him through.  One by one, she aided her troops, the last one reaching the door, just as she saw the flare spark up, the flame at first seeming to shoot out of the open hole into space, then igniting upward toward the pipe itself.  The last of the soldiers looked back for just a second, nodding his head, turning to Mara, and instead of grabbing her hand, yanking the door free of her and slamming it shut, separating himself from the team.  Mara looked on in horror as he fell back, falling into the draft and being sucked back toward the flames.  His body was alight as it slammed into the hole and disappeared out into the darkness.

Shaken, Mara turned and marched the troops as fast as they could move back to where their ship was docked.  It was when they reached the ship that they heard the sound - a rumbling, drawing closer and closer.

Rushing into the ship, the vessel took off even as flames seemed to appear around them.  All aboard, the ship was tossed, spinning wildly by the station finally succumbing completely, and exploding in a brilliant flash.

--------------------------------------------------------

The Administrator was standing, overlooking the battle, receiving reports as sections of the Wheel, large as it was, became battered and destroyed, sections being sealed off as they became unusable.  Large and defended as it was, it was no battle station, and not meant for war.  His fleet was performing better, but it was going to be a losing battle if he stuck around.

"Order the station to begin activating the hyperdrive"

It was a worst-kept secret that the Wheel, when it was rebuilt some 15 years earlier (after being destroyed, by the then Empire) had installed a hyperdrive to allow for an escape in times of need.  Like with most massive stations, it was not as simple as a standard ship - components for the hyperdrive were scattered, both due to the complexity, and in case of redundancy.  Already, one of the motivators had been damaged, and Faram was not going to wait until he couldn't move to try and go.  Of course, leaving would mean abandoning the other holdings in the system, including a variety of platforms, and ships under repair.

A price to pay to survive.

"Sir, I have reports that Miss. Tacofer took a shuttle across the system"
"To do what?"
"Not clear sir - but we have reports of a massive explosion by the g-well net construction platform"

Faram grimaced, contemplating the meaning of the explosion, and the disappearance of his agent ... and all the events that conspired against the Wheel and him.  Someone was responsible for this, and he would make them pay.

"Order a full evacuation of everything in system that can get out of here.  The defensive fleet is to remain behind until all capable civilian ships are gone.  Deploy all tugs to gather any immobile platforms.  What is our estimated time for the activation of the Wheel's drive?"

"Unclear sir. It could be a few minutes - could be an hour"

"That long?"

"Never been used, sir.  Sir - we are getting reports of imperial shuttles being deployed and heading toward the Wheel"

Faram glanced out the viewport at the imperial war machine, and saw the tiny pinpoints.  Not one or two, but a wave of them, now moving under heavy fighter guard toward the Wheel

"Cadet - get that hyperdrive functional, and order security to move to the most vulnerable sections of the Wheel.  I think we are going to have visitors"

TBC

[Medivh]

W= The Wheel space station
N = Gravity Well NETS
D = the Droid Control Ship
P = Defensive PLATFORM
C = Construction Platform - specifically, the one that was attacked, and is where the gravity well nets were mostly built.
O = Space (filled with ships and other fun stuff)
I = Imperial's Main Fleet
R = Imperial Pirate Fleet

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOONOOOOONOOOOOONOOO
OOOOOPOOOPOOOODOPOOO
OOOOIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOINOPOWOPOOOOPONOOO
OOOOIOOOOPOOOOCOROOOOO
OOOOOOPOOPOOPOPOOOOO
OOOOONOOOOONOOOONOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Wheel

Garron was jogging to keep up with the security team that had been assigned to escort him and Rutherford off the station.  Rutherford, for his part, had been strapped to a hover gurney and was being pushed by at the same fast pace by two of the stronger officers.

They could feel the panic of the battle around them, but here in the corridors, very little of the battle was real.  Occasionally, the intercomm would going off, ordering evacuation from one part or another of the massive station, and there were rumbles every time it was hit by the barrage of imperial weaponry. But that was it.  the corridor was surprisingly quiet - most civilians onboard had either made their escape (successfully or not) or were hiding in their quarters, praying the damage didn't reach them.

As they ran, Garron thought about Mara, worrying about her, hoping she was alright - and Riley too.  He wondered if anyone thought to look out for the boy with Mara off on some mission.  Would he be evacuated too?

"Officer, do you know where Mara's nephew Riley is"

Without stopping, the officer responded.

"We have an MPA out for Riley Tacofer.  Missing Person Alert. He was reported missing around the same time as the attacks began"

Garron didn't know what it meant, but he felt that with Mara off station, he had to help find Riley, make sure the boy was safe.

"Officer, can you escort Mr. Gellar to the hangar bay without me? I'm going to see if I can find the boy"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Prescott, but we have strict orders to-"

At that moment, an alarm sounded, and red emergency lights flashed along the walls near the ceiling.  The intercomm crackled with static but the alert came out crystal clear.

"Imperial troops have landed in sector 5 - repeat, imperial troops have boarded the Wheel at sector 5.  All security personnel are to report immediately.  Civilians are to evacuate that area, and stay clear of security. Repeat, imperials have boarded the Wheel"

At that, the security officer called a halt.

"Why are we stopping"
"We had to pass Sector 5 to get to the docking bay.  We need to take an alternate route"

Almost on cue, there was an echo of blaster fire from around the curved walls.

"Come on, let's move"

Rather than continuing the way they had been heading, down the sloped hallway, he instead turned the group sideways through a smaller corridor to a service turbolift.

Garron looked over the lift, realizing this was his chance.

"It's too small for all of us."

The officer eyes him suspiciously, but he held his hands up.

"I'll wait here with two officers, but we have to make sure Mr. Gellar gets away safe.  We will be right behind you"

Still skeptical, the officer heard the blaster fire a bit closer, and nodded, ordering the gurney and most of the team into the turbolift, and disappearing behind it as the doors closed.

Garron watched the doors for a second before turning to the remaining two officers.

"I'm sorry to do this to you two, but I have to go"
"We have orders, Mr. Prescott"
"You have orders - not me.  If you want to follow me, you can, but I have something else I need to do"

Without waiting for a reply, he turned back down the cooridor, heart pumping as he not only heard but saw a flicker of weapons fire, and turned back the way he had come, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

It was the first time he had left Rutherford Gellar since the rescue mission, and he prayed that this betrayal of trust would not be in vain.

[Medivh]

W= The Wheel space station
N = Gravity Well NETS
D = the Droid Control Ship
P = Defensive PLATFORM
C = Construction Platform - specifically, the one that was attacked, and is where the gravity well nets were mostly built.
O = Space (filled with ships and other fun stuff)
I = Imperial's Main Fleet
R = Imperial Pirate Fleet

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOONOOOOONOOOOOONOOO
OOOOOPOOOPOOOODOPOOO
OOOOIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOINOPOWOPOOOOPONOOO
OOOOIOOOOPOOOOCOROOOOO
OOOOOOPOOPOOPOPOOOOO
OOOOONOOOOONOOOONOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Wheel

Garron Prescott was not completely out of shape, but even a fit soldier would be taxed from running back and forth across a massive space station while being fired upon by imperial troops.  He was breathing hard as he continued back the way he had come just a few minutes ago. The sounds of battle finally fading behind him and he allowed himself to slow slightly, trying to catch his breathe.  And to think.

He wasn't exactly sure where he was going.  Sure, there seemed to be something right about searching for Riley, but the station was massive, and under attack.  How was he supposed to find the boy if no one else could?  He almost felt foolish for leaving Rutherford, who hopefully, was now safe somewhere else on the station - or off it.  Garron glanced behind him.  No way of going back now.  By now, that entire corridor was probably overrun by imperial troops.  He had to keep going.  And maybe he would be lucky enough to find Riley - or help Mara. Mara, who was last heard from heading toward a construction platform that apparently, was now rubble in space.

A number of Federation troops passed him, heading the way he came, ignoring him for the most part.  He was a civilian, after all.  They had bigger concerns to deal with.  Garron watched them go, weapons drawn, feeling almost useless.  In the past few hours, let alone months, he had made a number of bad decisions.  Leaving Rutherford, and going on this quest to help Riley, just because Mara ...

With his face set in determination he knew his new destination.  Moving to the nearest turbolift, he made his way to the nearest docking bay.

Upon arrival, he found a squad of Federation troops, a handful of pilots, and the bay doors half shut.  It was an industrial docking bay, and the floor was filled with tugs being powered up.  One at a time, tugs would lift, make their way through the narrow opening, and slip out into space to help the stranded and immobile federation assets escape.  Proximity scanners constantly making sure the bay exit was clear of approaching imperials.

Garron approached the troops.

"I need a tug"

The officers looked Garron over with a curious expression.

"Authorized use only"

"I am authorized"

"By whose authority?"

"Mara Tacofer"

The name gave them pause, but the officer was skeptical.

"You got proof of that, civilian?"

Garron of course had no proof of authorization.  But maybe he could use his own name and association to get what he wanted.
"You don't know who I am, do you, officer?  My name is Garron Prescott.  I am here as a personal guest of Ambassador Tacofer, and she authorized the departure escort of myself and my companion, Rutherford Gellar.  She insisted that we be provided with what we need, and be assisted in the evacuation efforts.  Now, we can stand here and debate the matter until the station blows up, or you can give me a damn tug boat!"

The soldier seemed unsure of himself, frowning as he appraised Garron.

"You can ride along in tug 35-D.  That's the best I can offer"

"Fine"

Garron was escorted to the specified vessel, powering up, and scheduled to leave in just a few minutes.  The officer knocked on the hull and the hatch opened, the pilot glancing out.

"Mr. Prescott here is going to be traveling with you.  You are to do your best to make sure he is kept safe - as per orders from Lady Tacofer"

The pilot glanced from the officer to Garron and back again.  Mara Tacofer's name carried weight, and he nodded, turning back to Garron

"Come on in - it's a bit snug, but should work fine"

Snug was true.  Tugs were designed to be light and small, since they focused on carrying the weight of other objects.  Most of the ship housed the hyperdrive and engine systems.  The cockpit was just two seats, barely fit in place.  Garron took the only empty seat next to the pilot, and the ship was soon up in the air, sliding through the narrow opening of the station, and heading out.

It was only after they had cleared the bay doors that Garron turned to the pilot.

"We have a new assignment, pilot."

"I have to take care of-"

Garron cut him off

"Not anymore.  You know that construction platform?  The one that exploded?  Head in that direction.  We are going on a rescue mission"


**************************
Administrator Amir Faram watched a dozen displays, showing the battles going on inside and outside of the Wheel station, wondering why the hyperdrive was taking so long to power up.  Every minute, more imperials were landing.

Behind him, four Federation security force soldiers stood guard, a precaution in this time of crisis.

The space battle was still proceeding, the Federation losing, but managing to hold back imperial forces as others escaped.  Now if only the Wheel could escape too.

Even as he was watching the monitors, the doors to his chambers opened, soldiers turning and raising their weapons - seeing Mara Tacofer walk through the doors.  They relaxed their stance, and Amir Faram turned, a shocked look in his face.

"Mara?  How did you get back here?  I saw the explosion"

"There's no time to discuss that, administrator.  We have to make a decision quickly"
"about?"
"The archives, administrator.  We need to save the Federation archives.  The imperials aren't here to kill you - they want the federation specifications.  I need you to give me the authorization code, so I can transfer and save the archives before the imperials are able to access it."

the administrator looked confused
"But how will they get it?"
"They are taking the Wheel, administrator.  Unless the hyperdrive is activated in the next few minutes, the imperials will overrun the entire station.  Once the archives are in their possession, it will only be a matter of time before their hackers get in and take everything."
"So what are you going to do?"
"make sure that doesn't happen"

Faram's face turned darker still at the prospect.  Mara had been right about every step of the attack.  If this was true, the Federation would lose everything.  Hesitantly, Faram reached into his pocket and pulled out an encryption disc.

"This has everything you need to get in and save the archives"

"Thank you administrator"

She took the disc, placing it away in her own jumpsuit pocket.

"I'm sorry about all of this"

As her hand came out of the pocket, the blaster fired once, twice, thrice, four times - the security personnel stood dead around them, and then she turned and faced the administrator, who had a look of terror on his face.

"As I said, administrator.  I'm sorry about all of this.  But I appreciate what you have done"

"You aren't Mara Tacofer"

She shook her head

"No - but then again, you and I both know - neither is she.  Her real name is Infiltrator -01."

"And you?  What's your real name"

"My designation is Infiltrator 02.  Not that it matters"

She fired the weapon, two shots straight into his chest.

Even as he crumpled to the ground, she moved to the door, deactivating its ability to open, moving to the central computer and typing, in fast succession a series of codes

"Administrator - this is Nav control.  The hyperdrive is now active and ready.  Shall we set the emergency destination coordinates?"

"This is Mara Tacofer.  The administrator has been incapacitated, so I am taking control of our defenses.  Divert hyperspace control directly to this station.  I will be making the nav calculations myself.  Prepare to enter hyperspace, on my mark"

TBC

[Medivh]

Besh Gorgon System
(formerly The Wheel)

The Federation soldiers onboard were barely conscious, if alive.  One too many blasts in too short a time.  Humans weren't designed to deal with the kind of pressures and forces  against them.

The blast from the exploding platform had severely damaged their departing ship, and possibly worse, sent it in rapid spin.  G-forces pinned Mara and the crew against walls and bulkheads, even as sirens roared about problems A, B, and C.

It was a miracle the ship hadn't sprung a leak, though that was only small comfort.   In space, a ship at a spin didn't stop until something else stopped it - friction didn't slow them down, and there was a point where the force of the shockwave actually increased the speed with which they turned.

She heard gagging from somewhere on her left, and Mara knew it was at least too much for someone's stomach.  It took her several tries before she managed to grasp a rung that was bolted to the ship's ceiling, pulling herself upward.  Her center of gravity shifted and a moment later, she was pressed against the rung - but at least now she could make progress.  slowly, she pulled her way upward, feeling the g-forces spin her and push her and pull her, until she finally reached the cockpit.

That was where the bad news had gotten worse.  The pilot was dead, and the control panel itself looked like it had been barbecued.  Mara's worst fears were confirmed when she tried activating the inertial dampeners, and got sparks instead of the force she needed to stabilize the ship.

She forced herself into a seat, holding herself down as the forces tried pulling her up against the viewshield, finally strapping herself in so she could focus.

First, with her body stable (as compared to the ship), she deactivated her gyroscopic sensors - an ability that her troops did not possess.  Instead, she realigned her orientation with that of the ship.

Then, with her vision stabilized, she set to work trying to bypass the the shot mechanics, so she could activate the engines, just enough to slow the ship down.

It was hard, tedious work, not made easier by the ever changing scenery outside the viewport.  The damage in here was extensive, and it took hours before she made the connection, snapping two wires together, and finally hearing the roar of the engines.  The ship began to slow, and just about stop when the circuit gave out and the engine died completely.

Mara let out a sigh of relief.  The ship was still moving, but slow enough that it was barely noticeable.  And even if they were stranded here, they could try to figure something out.  It gave them a little time.

Unstrapping herself, she made her way back to where her handful of troops were.  The smell of vomit and urine filled the chamber, a result of the intense undergoings they endured.  There was also decay.

One of the troops, the most injured, had succumbed to his wounds and lay dead, his face already an ashen color.  Another also had passed, possibly unable to stand the intense force of the spinning.

Mara assessed her survivors, grabbing medpacks and setting to work dealing with what she could.  It had been an assault mission, and injuries were anticipated, but this was not the way Mara expected it to go.

Perhaps worst of all, the viewport in the side of the ship allowed them to watch as the battle turned in favor of the Empire - and the Wheel disappeared.

"Where did it go?"

"It was equipped with a hyperdrive, to escape if need be"

"They abandoned us?"

"They did what they had to to save those on board."

Of course, with the Wheel gone, the Empire's attention shifted to the vast field of ships and platforms.  Time was already running out, and they needed to get moving soon.

"We need to assess damage to the hyperdrive.  See if we can get it functional, and how long it would take."

Before the assessment could begin though, Mara heard a crackling over the comm unit and made her way back to the cockpit.

"Mara Tacofer - this is Garron Prescott - if you read me, send a reply"

Mara couldn't help but smile.  Garron had come looking for her.

TBC

[Medivh]

Besh Gorgon System
(formerly The Wheel)

Garron Prescott had ordered the small tug to go through the debris, setting the comm on a short but open frequency, calling out every few minutes

"Mara Tacofer - this is Garron Prescott - if you read me, send a reply"

There was, at first, no response.  The Wheel behind them disappeared, and the battle in the distance behind them seemed to grow chaotic.

"Mr. Prescott, we can't stay here forever"

The changing battle behind them was reminder enough that time was short, and Garron, more insistently, called out again

"Mara Tacofer - this is Garron Prescott - if you read me, send a reply"

This time, there was static, but then a voice.

"Garron Prescott - it's good to hear your voice"

Garron couldn't help but smile, turning to the pilot.

"Which ship did that come from?"

"I've got it - it's that damaged one, spinning slowly over there"
"try to get a lock on it"

Garron pressed the comm again.

"Mara, what's your status?"
"We have casualties - and our ship isn't exactly space worthy."
"Do you think it can enter hyperspace?"
"Our hyperdrive is down"
"I've got a tug that should be able to lock onto you and pull you in"

There was a pause

"I think we are air-tight.  Don't suppose you have any room onboard?"
"I wish there was, but it looks like we'll have to pull you along.  Tractor beam is locking on now"
the tug activated its tractor onto the ship, and its spin stopped entirely.

"Can we enter hyperspace from here?"

The pilot shook his head

"Too much in the way of debris and ships.  We need a bit more space"

Garron glanced out the viewport, first at Mara's ship, then at the scene beyond.  Many of the tugs that had been deployed had reached their targets, and the entire landscape seemed to be moving, scattering, as ships tried getting out of each other's way to make the jump into hyperspace.  Beyond them, imperial fighters were wreaking havoc on the last of the Federation defenses that were standing in the way of an all-out massacre.

"Let's hurry this up."

"I know, I know - we don't have much time.  But if I go too fast, I lose the lock, or damage the other ship.  We just have to hope that we don't look like an appetizing target"

"The Federation ambassador and chief tactician is aboard that ship."

"Let's hope they don't know that"

The tug began moving downward, dipping below the standard plane of platforms and pulling the assault ship with it.  Garron took one last glance out, where the Wheel had stood, praying his boss was alright.

TBC

[Medivh]

Deepspace, Unknown Location

The tug had managed to slip below the horizon of moving craft, and staying out of the main path of the imperial bombers, and shuttles, seeking to capture or destroy everything left in the Besh Gorgon system.  A few tense moments when explosions hit nearby targets, but they were left alone, long enough to get away from everything to enter hyperspace.

The hyperspace trip was short - the tug had planned a quick escape route, a hop away from Besh Gorgon, to better assess the damage to the assault shuttle without putting it through the rigors of a long hyperspace trip.  The vacuum of space was eerily calm compared to the cluttered massacre they had come from.

The ship itself had basically blown systems, but the tug used its tractor beams to pull close enough to connect with the airlock.

Minutes later, the hatch was opened, and Garron made his way in, the pilot staying ready at the tug.

Immediately, he was hit the scent of decay and vomit, and he forced himself to breathe, slowly.  He made his way down into the causeway of the ship to assess the damage.

Mara was busy strapping a makeshift brace to one soldier's leg, another was leaning over a railing, gagging over a pool of stale vomit.  A third clearly had died, riddled with blunt-trauma wounds.  Two others groaned in various states of injury, and it was clear that of all of them, only Mara seemed to be able to get around easily enough.

Mara turned to see him, her eyes locking with his own for just a moment, but her face let out a smile.

"Thanks for saving me"
"I wish I could have done more"
"You did enough"
"But Riley"

Mara looked away at the mention of her nephew, the smile disappearing, and she nodded her head.

"Riley got away - Riley ran away, actually - just before the attack started.  I watched a video of him getting on a ship and making it into hyperspace"

She looked back up at him

"I don't know where he went though"

Garron was relieved to hear that Riley had made it off the station. Garron closed the distance between them, taking Mara's hands in his own.

"We'll find him.  I promise"

Even amidst the cacophony around them, there was a moment, a spark between them, and Mara smiled, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to Garron.  It was warm, unexpected, and thrilling.  And brief.  Mara broke the kiss a moment later, her eyes lingering on Garron a moment longer before she turned away.

"Help me with this leg brace.  Then we have to figure out what to do next."

TBC

[Medivh]

Deepspace, Unknown Location

The situation stabilized.  Those that were alive were tended to, wounds cared for.  Those that were dead were discreetly and respectfully shot out through the barely functional torpedo launch tube.  The question then was where to go.  As far as they knew, the Wheel had successfully escaped with the most precious aspects of the Federation - including the administrator himself, and of course, the stock exchange, and the archives.  But where it jumped was a secret, and it was likely to remain a secret until the administrator was certain it was safe to emerge.

Those onboard discussed possibly going to Junction, the only remaining planet currently under Federation control, but Mara shot down the idea quickly.

"It's likely the Empire already hit Junction - and it will be an easier target than the Wheel was.  They wouldn't leave that escape route as an option."

In fact, Junction was specifically ordered as off limits to anyone evacuating from the Wheel and the Besh-Gorgon system.  Each of the facilities, ships, and whatnots that had escaped were ordered to choose their own destinations, and relay them on a specialized secure channel.  Either the administrator, or a high ranking federation official (such as Mara) could communicate to coordinate where evacuees should rendevous.

Unfortunately, the long-range comm systems aboard the shuttle were malfunctioning, and the tug was not equipped for that.

"What about Chandaar?"

Garron had given Mara her space after the kiss, and there was an awkward and wonderful tension between them. He probably would have recommended Corporate space, were it not for their reputation of being arch enemies of the Federation.

"we don't know what kind of climate we'll be in"

"Why not?"

"They didn't come to help"

The truth of that had weighed down on the back of Mara's mind.  The Republic had refused to come to the Federation's aid against a common enemy, and despite recent new agreements between them.  She couldn't understand it, and it worried her what and who was behind the decision.

"Then we are short on options - The Republic, the Corporate Sector, The Empire of course ... where else can we go"

Mara had been going over the list of useable planets in her head, eliminating each one at a time.  Her options were limited, to be sure.  It had to be a world that COULD help, and would WANT to help - her, Garron, and the entire remant of the Trade Federation.

And the only world she could think that might do that was the world she cared most about, and the world where she had not set foot in ten years.  Home.

Mara turned to the tug pilot.

"Do you think we'd be able to reach Corellia?"

The pilot nodded.

"Then set a course, and let's get going"

The pilot nodded again, scurrying out of the shuttle, through the airlock into the tight-quartered tug.  Mara glanced over at Garron.

"Corellia is also part of the Republic."

"Part, yes - but also apart from.  It's a different climate there.  I hope"

Mara stood, making her way to the shuttle's cockpit, to be alone with her thoughts.

The last time she had been on Corellia, she had been labeled a traitor and a murderer. And although she had changed (physically) since then, she was apprehensive to visit, let alone draw attention to herself as the Federation 'ambassador,'  She prayed that she would find what was needed there.

And then, once things had settled down, she could try to track down her nephew.

TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia

The Force works in mysterious ways - or whatever higher powers that be clearly had a sense of humor.  On the surface of Corellia, Riley Patten and Dane Gellar were discovering more about themselves, their birthright, and their families pasts.  Each had acted 'independently' but both had ended up in the same place.  And neither knew that in orbit, another piece of the puzzle had just exited hyperspace, focusing not on the past, but on the future.

Mara Tacofer had no idea that Riley (or Dane) was on the surface.  She assumed he had run away to find Gemma, wherever she may be.  Her arrival here was focused on gathering and rebuilding the scattered elements of the Trade Federation, those that had escaped the imperial attack.  She knew the battle would have cost the Federation a lot, but also knew that there were assets saved, and that with hardwork, the organization could survive.  She hoped.  What they needed was a safe place to lick their wounds and figure out what to do next, and having not heard from the Administrator or the Wheel, she was going to assume the role of acting head of the Federation.

The small tug exited hyperspace, the damaged assault shuttle in tow.  Mara had spent much of the journey in the shuttle's cabin, isolating herself from the surviving officers - and Garron Prescott.  She was very conflicted about him, and hadn't had the opportunity to fully process how she felt, or what she should do.  And lacking opportunity to process was something very new to the HRD, who could process information very, very quickly.  She wanted to be with him, wanted to be comforted by him, wanted to kiss him - and wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.  Garron knew she was a clone, but she had not revealed that she was also a machine.  That was another reason for the isolation during the trip - she needed time to recharge and assess her own systems.  It was clear Garron had feelings for her, but Mara was not so certain whether revealing her darkest secret, the truth about her origin, wouldn't change that.  Change his caring to fear, loathing, anger.  A part of her wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him everything, but she didn't want to lose the small bit she had, knowing someone in the galaxy actually did care for her.

Isolating herself seemed the best way to KNOW how he felt, without risking an interaction that would require ACTING on those feelings, from either of them, or risk losing it altogther.

Arriving in space over Corellia, Mara was immediately aware of the bustle of activity in orbit.  One of the richest worlds in the galaxy, there was always a tremendous amount of activity on Corellia, on the surface, and in orbit.  multiple shipyards building new warships and commercial vessels, hundreds of vessels involved in trade and commerce - not quite as many as at the Wheel, but still a lot.  Today though, she noticed a greater amount of military activity.  Fighters and capital vessels were on guarded patrol, formations were tight, and everything she saw screamed 'there's a war going on - or about to be'.  A fleet of ships looked prepared to head out, and as she predicted, disappeared into hyperspace just a few minutes after their arrival, off to some unknown destination.

Maybe the battle at the Wheel did have an impact on the Republic.  Was the departing fleet meant to do battle?  or defend a republic world, just in case?

Mara's attention was turned to a squad of fighters, patrolling along a traffic lane, followed by an old corellian corvette.  As they drew closer, the comm in the cockpit hissed with static before she received the message.

"Tug, identify yourself, your cargo, and your purpose"

Technically, the tug was the lead vessel here, as it was pulling the shuttle along, but Mara had had the sublight-comm unit patched together, so she would get the message - and reply.  At least the sublight comm was still working, the longer range unit was shot to hell.

"This is Trade Federation shuttle W-15-800, being pulled by Tug, D-unit, 087, responding to your hail.  I am Mara Tacofer, lead ambassador for the Trade Federation.  I am transmitting standard proof of credentials now.  We are refugees from the Wheel in the Besh Gorgon system, requesting temporary asylum, and a meeting with a member of the Corellian Diplomatic Corp."

Mara had visited dozens of worlds in her role as ambassador, but never before as a refugee.  Despite all that had happened, she knew she had to maintain a professional demeanor, the best way to show helping her was more than just a futile exercise.

In response to her hail, four of the patrol fighters moved into formation around the tug and shuttle.

"We are checking the credentials now, please stand by"

She envisioned the patrol officer, used to more routine responses, was communicating with higher-level officials.  The sensationalism of recent events would probably mean her credentials were double and triple checked, as word of her arrival went up the chain of command.

Who it was that made the final decision, she couldn't be sure - was it the governor's office?  or the senator's?  The Diplomatic Corp included Corellia's secretary of state, the Corellian senator and represenatives to the Republic, about a dozen counselors and advisors, and hundreds of staff.

She was surprised how little time it was before a response was received.

"Ambassador Tacofer, we are increasing your escort to a full squad of fighters.  Your shuttle and tug are both approved to follow the flight plan being transmitted now, and to land in Coronet on government platform 17.  We have been told you will be greeted by a member of the Diplomatic Corp upon landing"

A dozen fighters approached and surrounded the ship, as the patrol ships went off to continue their routine job.  Mara signalled the pilot of the tug.

"You heard the officer - follow their flight plan, and take us down"

"Yes, ma'am"

The descent was slow and without much incident, and Mara finally decided to head to the back of the shuttle to speak with Garron and the rest on board.

Garron had been leaning against a bulkhead, dozing, but awoke when the door opened.  He had made clear his feelings toward Mara, and wasn't sure how she felt - the kiss had been wonderful, but it was an isolated incident, Mara returning to her professional, guarded demeanor ever since.  He wished she would just open up to him.  But for the moment, that obviously was not why she was back here.

"They are letting us land.  I told them I was onboard, a refugee of the Wheel, seeking asylum.  I did not tell them you were onboard as well"

"Why not?"

"I didn't want it sent up and down the line of communications that we had a CSA employee onboard, let alone one who worked directly for Rutherford Gellar.  We don't know how people are reacting to anything.  I want to play it safe, and keep as much as possible secret"

"That plan hasn't worked so well so far"

"Not from lack of trying - I don't trust a lot of people with more information than necessary"

"Is there anyone in the Corellian government you do trust?"

It was a valid question, and went to the heart of Mara's unease.  Most of those she had worked with during her brief stint as an aide to the then governor William Tacofer had been murdered under Judec's reign (and then, of course, she was blamed for their deaths).  But there were a few that she had heard of, by reputation, individuals who might be willing to hear her out.

"Senator Artemis Soldys has a reputation of being principled"
"For a politician"
"He was a soldier and director of CorSec before taking the position."
"Being a soldier makes him trustworthy?"
"No - but I don't have a lot of options right now.  I need somebody I can talk to, that can help the Federation.  Soldys doesn't like Republic politics, and has made that clear, even at the cost of political capital.  No matter who greets us, we need to talk to him."

Garron seems unsure, and shrugs

"If you say so"

Mara isn't ready to have a deeper conversation with him - about this, or anything else, and turns to the Federation soldiers on board.

"We need to look as presentable as possible.  Everyone knows we were in a battle, and need help, but we cannot look defeated.  If we do, we will be.  When we step out of the shuttle, keep a professional line"

Mara glanced back at Garron, then disappeared back into the cockpit, closing the door between them.

They had reached the atmosphere, and the g-forces included with the descent could be felt by all onboard.  As they touched down on the ground, the escort that had been following zoomed past, returning to orbit.

Mara glanced out the shuttle, watching the brightness of the day, a sharp contrast to the darkness that was perpetual in space.  Even with artificial lighting onboard, nothing compared to daylight.

She waited a minute, collecting herself and her thoughts before rising, stepping back into the main room of the shuttle, and down the ramp as it finished descending.

The federation troops that could walk followed suit, with Garron taking the rear.

The sun was bright on the durasteel platform, and most of them were shielding their eyes as they adjusted to the change.  Mara, however, proceeded forward, looking at the individual waiting by the edge of the platform.

It was not Senator Soldys.  In fact, it was not even a member of the diplomatic corp.

Instead, it was the current director of the Corellian Defense Force, Elon Veritaas.

Mara's heart raced, fear returning to her that returning to Corellia was a mistake, her past life, wanted for treason and murder.  Did they know who she was?  what she was?

No - Veritaas hadn't come with an armed escort.  He was alone to greet them.  If she was to be arrested, he would have come with more force.  His expression was hard to read, eyes flickering briefly at the wounded soldiers, Garron, but then focusing mostly on Mara, studying her as she drew closer.

"Director Veritaas.  I must admit, I was not expecting you to be greeting me."
"Ambassador Tacofer - Mara Tacofer" he stated her name, emphasizing the last name, and making a deliberate pause before continuing.
"I must admit, your arrival here is both surprising, and a remarkable coincidence"

Mara wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, but made her formal request anyways.

"Director, as lead ambassador to the Trade Federation, I am here to seek asylum, and assistance from the Corellian government.  I would like to speak with Senator Artemis Soldys at the earliest possible convenience"

"Senator Soldys would equally like to meet with you, and we are arranging for that meeting to occur as soon as possible"
"Thank you"
"However, there is another matter that I believe concerns you.  That is why I am here to greet you.  We recently had another visitor to Corellia, also surprising.  Two in fact."

Mara shook her head, not understanding.

"Who?"

"Riley Patten, and Dane Gellar"

Mara could hardly believe her ears.  Riley was here?  On Corellia?  It was both relief and fear that filled her.  Relief, knowing he was apparently safe, and fear at what coming to Corellia and revealing himself could mean for the future.  Mara couldn't hide her facial expression, and the Director nodded his head.

"You know them"

Mara briefly paused, contemplating the risk of confirming - but she was hear asking for help, and being forthright would help her.  

"Yes"

"They are both safe, and I will be happy to let you see them - both of them.  But first, if we could speak with you in private"

Mara wanted to see Riley immediately, but knew better.  There was still protocol to follow, and she nodded her head again

"Lead the way."

TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia

Mara and her small delegation were led indoors, and whisked away to a more private building.  Nobody wanted her presence, or the things they had to discuss, to become public knowledge.

The soldiers, many who were injured, were sent to a medical facility, while Garron and Mara were brought into a small conference room, window shades drawn.

They sat down in comfortable, but not extravagant chairs, glancing around at the emblems on the wall - understated decor, to keep the room from looking asylum-white, a few emblems of Corellia's government and agencies.  They waited only a few minutes before Director Veritaas returned, followed by Senator Soldys and a woman that Mara had never met but recognized.

Greetings were warm, but brief.

"Ambassador Tacofer. Mr. Prescott.  Allow me to introduce Senator Artemys Soldys and Della Avers who works in the Governor's Office.  Senator, Ms. Avers, this is Ambassador Mara Tacofer of the Trade Federation and Garron Prescott of the Corporate Sector"

Hand shakes, and everyone sat down.  The senator spoke first, looking at Mara.

"It is remarkable that you have shown up like this - both of you"

He glanced over at Garron, who nodded his head, curious and cautious, and Artemis turned his gaze back to Mara.

"We were surprised to hear that Riley and Dane were here.  It seems like luck"
"if you believe in luck"
"We didn't know they were going to be here"

The Senator shook his head

"I meant no offense - I just meant maybe it was destiny"
"If it's alright with you, senator, I'd like to stay away from destiny and prophesy for the time being"

Garron, for reasons obvious to our readers, was not friends with destiny at the moment.  Mara, however, wanted the conversation to go smoothly

"It's been a rough time for us.  We came from the Besh Gorgon system, where the Wheel was under attack by the Empire.  We barely escaped - and we have no idea how many made it out.  We came here because we couldn't think of who else we could trust."

"The Republic has a capital now, Ms. Tacofer"
"Yes, and I notice YOU aren't there either, senator.  Sometimes, it's better to stay out of where the limelight is"

He smiled knowingly.

"true - but your coming here may very well shift that limelight this way.  I'm not sure that's what we are looking for at Corellia."
"I assure you, I only want what's best for Corellia"
"And the Trade Federation. And yourself.  You have many loyalties, Ms. Tacofer.  How can we trust you"

Mara was not entirely surprised by the senator's words, but she was disappointed by them. She had hoped that she would get something more from the senator - but then again, in his eyes, she was from the Trade Federation, and had publicly spoke out against an opponent, giving her own organization huge gains - and then now asking for help.  There was only one way to earn his trust.  To be honest.

"What is it you want to know?"

"First of all, Tacofer wasn't your first name, was it?"

No, it was Infiltrator-01, but she certainly wasn't going to say THAT.  There was a truer name though, her first REAL human name.

"My name is Mara Anna Gellar"
"As in Dane Gellar?"
"No - well, I suppose yes, but I've only met Dane recently.  I am related to Valerie Gellar."
"How?"

She glanced over at Garron, who nodded his support (if only he knew the real truth) and turned back to them.

"I'm Valerie's clone.  One of several"

The corellians did not expect the answer, the shock/disbelief registering on their faces.  Mara continued.

"I can prove it to you - I have matching bloodtype to Valerie.  Not just matching - identical."

"You are a clone?  Who - how were you cloned?"

"I won't go into the details right now, but basically, Valerie Gellar was handed over to an imperial who worked with General Kyrie Patten, blackmail to save face for her being born out of wedlock"

Those in the room had heard the story, of course.

"The imperial - You mean Alexander Winton?"
Mara nodded her head. She had almost forgotten his infamy had been made widespread by the documentary

"Yes"
"So he cloned you?"

Mara never really thought about how complicated it would be to answer the questions of her origins until she actually had to.  She decided to skip the messy parts, about how she was created by Phage, worked for Phage, killed for Phage ... that would lead to too many other questions.

So much for honesty.

"Basically.  Alexander Winton found that Valerie Gellar had a gene that allowed for a kind of immortality, and he tested that theory on me.  I was the prototype clone.  Except I never became Valerie, I was an independent.  His later clones had the ability for transferred memories."

"Winton was cloned?"

Mara sighed

"If you want to discuss Alexander Winton, we can, but I'd save it for another time.  I will say this.  When Valerie faced off against Phage - the second time - I witnessed her sacrifice herself for Corellia, saw Phage kill her.  And so I killed Phage.  Yes - I am the one who killed Phage.

And I was inspired by Valerie, so I chose to enter the civil government, under William Tacofer.  I posed myself as Valerie's cousin, since it would raise too many question to call myself her sister.  But that's what I was, I am.  Valerie's clone, Valerie's only sibling"

"Except ..."

"Except, I wasn't her only sibling.  Valerie had a half-sister, Kimber Patten, and Kimber was pregnant with a boy when she was brought to Centerpoint Station.  During that last final battle, I found her, alone in a cooridor, dying even as she was giving birth.  She was ... delirious, saw me, and thought I was Valerie, her half-sister and closest friend.  She called to me, and I helped her.  I delivered that child, and promised I would raise him, protect him.  She named him Riley just before she died."

Mara paused briefly, taking a breathe before continuing.

"I thought Corellia would be the best place, for sure - but I had been labeled as a traitor, blamed for killing Governor Tacofer by the Judec government.  And even though it wasn't true, I couldn't reveal myself, or the boy I carried.  There was too much history in our names.

So I replaced Gellar with Tacofer, in honor of our fallen governor, and turned to the Trade Federation, who protected both me and Riley, and our identities until just a few months ago.

I was made an ambassador, and Riley and me went to Chandaar.  I began working with Rutherford Gellar, who is arguably related to me - my sister's grandfather.  And that was when Riley was kidnapped - Riley Patten, Dane Gemma and Dahlia Gellar-Masterton.  We worked with Rutherford, and the jedi to recover the four children.  we were able to rescue all but Dahlia.  Riley was kept with me at the Wheel, Dane and Gemma were sent away to be guarded by the jedi.  Rutherford was comatose, and so Mr. Prescott stayed with him on the Wheel.

Riley ran away just before the imperial attack.  I don't know what led Dane to be here.  Both of them have Corellian blood, are native sons of Corellia.  And while I might be a clone, and have worked for other factions, I feel as though Corellia is my heritage as well."

Notwithstanding some of the fuzzy parts, Mara felt a great weight off her shoulders - she called herself home at last.  Now, how would they take it.

"You bring with you some troubling tides - a clone of Valerie Gellar, and a son of Riley Patten, and a nephew of Valerie Gellar, showing up here?  Connected to heroes and celebrities - and not all celebrity is good.  Those names have negative connotations as well."

"All the more reason to hide who we were"

"Riley seems intent on going forward as a Patten"

Mara's face was stoic, unsure how to respond - Riley wanted to be who he was born as, understandable, but using that name was dangerous ... those who knew who he was had tried kidnapping him already, and here, he would get publicity ...

"I have concerns about him being publicly displayed.  I'm his guardian, his protector. He's still a child and doesn't know what's best for him"

"He's fairly intelligent for a child"

"Yes he is - but he's still a child.  He ran away and almost got himself killed so he could - what?  learn about his past?  What he did was dangerous.  And frankly, before we speak anymore about anything, I ought to have a chance to speak with him myself"

The Corellians glanced at each other, before nodding.

"He's just down the hall - we'll take you to him.  Mr Prescott, if you could stay here for just a minute."

The director and senator rose to lead Mara out, down the hall, to another conference room.

Mara prepared to scold Riley, prepared to tell him how foolish and dangerous what he did was.

The door opened, and there he was.  He seemed surprised to see Mara, and then he gulped.  He sensed he was in trouble, eyes meeting Mara's, his voice quiet as he began to speak a plea of forgiveness.

"Aunt Mara ... I ..."

Mara stepped forward, looking at Riley, sitting there in ill fitting corellian clothing, provided for him to replace the articles that had been damaged by his journey here.  A thin smile reached her lips and she ran forward, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close to her.

"Riley ... don't you ever do  that again" She had meant to scold him, meant her words to be harsh, but the hug diminished any bluntness to it.  Riley's arms wrapped around her, and she held him tight, silently thanking the force that he was alive, and well, and safe.  At least for now.

"Aunt Mara ... I'm sorry"

Without breaking the huge, Mara whispered back.

"Shh ... not now"

And she held him, long and hard.  For though Kimber was his mother and his blood and Patten was his name and birthright, Mara, was the one who raised him, and to her, this was her child.  And she clutched onto him, silently daring anyone to try and take him away from her again.

TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia

There was no question that there was a bigger issue - both on a galactic level, and for Mara and her nephew - that needed to be dealt with, watched, guarded from.  All four of the children had now been returned to their families, and were, for the moment, safe from danger.  But for how long?  And perhaps more importantly, what did someone want with them anyhow?

Nevertheless, Mara had other pressing matters that had to be resolved.  No one had heard from the Administrator, or had seen the massive structure of the Wheel since the imperial attack, and reports were conflicting whether it had escaped or been captured by the Empire.  What Mara did know is that literally hundreds of ships, platforms, and other Federation assets had managed to run from the imperial attack in the Besh-Gorgon system, and were scattered across the galaxy, seeking safety, and orders for what to do next.

With the imperial attack, the Trade Federation effectively lost it's last actual real estate. Even with the Republic victory against the Empire in the system - a surprising turn of events still being investigated - it would be foolish to return and try to rebuild there.  The Junction system was equally unavailable, its governor having made a statement breaking all ties with the Trade Federation, in hopes of averting an imperial attack (unsuccessfully, mind you - the Empire had raided the planet's orbital facilities, setting the planet back billions of credits).

Without the administrator, Mara was effectively the head of whatever remnants survived of the Trade Federation, in all its scattered parts.  Even without a place to call home, the organization still had a huge number of assets that needed to be assessed and put back into place.

That was why she had chosen Corellia initially, before she even knew Riley was here.  And while she and Riley still had to set up a life and a home here - Riley apparently knew about his own personal wealth more than Mara or anyone else did - there were some legal hurdles that needed to be dealt with, and while that was being sorted out, the Gellar apartment seemed to suit Riley just fine.  Tomorrow, they would try to access Kimber Patten's accounts at the central bank in Coronet. Today, Mara was trying to find a place for her company to call home.

Artemis Soldys and Della Avers sat in the conference room across from her as she began to make her pitch.  She felt out of practice.

"The Trade Federation needs a new home, and I think the Corellian sector might be the place for us.  Corellia has huge production capacity, and combined with Trade Federation assets, it would make Corellia one of the top, if not the top, commercial capitals of the galaxy.  It would rival if not beat out the Corporate Sector as the Republic's number one trade partner"

Artemis shook his head
"We aren't just a trade partner of the Republic - we are a part of the Republic"

"True, but the Corellian Sector has a level of independence other worlds don't.  A half dozen planets that are not inside the protective barriers of the gravity well nets, self reliant, self defending.  And not the most favored among some republic insiders.  This would give you a leg up, another reason for other senators to take you seriously."

"What about Corellian Engineering? Bringing the Trade Federation to Corellia would not be something they appreciate.  That's huge competition for them"

"I could argue that competition isn't a bad thing, but really, it doesn't matter here - the Trade Federation isn't a competitor of CEC.  We have different products."

"For the most part"

Mara nodded "for the most part.  And in fact, I think we can resolve that issue.  With the Trade Federation as a partner of CEC rather than a competitor."

"They might not go along with that either - especially considering the last time the Trade Federation tried partnering with an entity"

Mara's face showed her annoyance. "The interactions between the Trade Federation and the Corporate Sector were going to be positive, before the whole -"

Della raised her hands up "yes, we know, but that's what happened, and that's how it looks.  The Trade Federation, for all its assets and wealth, is considered a liability right now.  No one wants that drama."

Mara leaned back in her chair, looking at the two corellians across from her.  It was true, the Trade Federation brand didn't have much to offer in terms of dealing.

But those assets.

"What if CEC were to buy out the Trade Federation?"

Artemis and Della looked at each other than back at Mara.

"You mean a merger?"

"I mean buys everything the Trade Federation has - every spec, every facility, every ship.  Swallow up the Trade Federation whole.  CEC becomes that much larger in one breathe, the Trade Federation brand disappears entirely."

"And who would it be buying it from?"

"The shareholders, of course.  Either in actual currency, or stock in CEC.  CEC can decide what works best, and I can negotiate with them over other terms, but I need Corellia's approval.  I need a place for my people to have work, and gather them from wherever they've been.  Let me send out a call, letting my employees know they can come here, safely, and I'll negotiate those assets to the Correllian Engineering Corporation."

Della nodded her head.

"I think that can be arranged - at least temporarily.  Details will have to be -"

At that moment, she was interrupted, as the comm by Artemis' belt buzzed.  he lifted it to his ear.

"This is the Senator. ... I'm in the middle of .... what's happening?"

his face turned worried as he listened to the comm, finally nodding his head.

"I'll head out at once"

The comm clicked off as Mara and Della looked at him.

"I have to return to Chandaar.  It seems the Senator from Mandalore is trying to pass a measure registering and restricting Force users in the Republic.  It looks like it's going to pass"

"Would that be such a bad thing?  Force users have been known to cause quite a few problems.  Believe me, I should know"

"This isn't about Force users.  Someone is doing this to attack the jedi.  And apparently, the Speaker has been acting ... strange."

"Strange?  how so?"

"I'm not sure - but I need to return to the capital to see what I can do.  Della will work with the governor's office and my office to arrange for a sit down with the CEC chairman. I hope it all works out"

Artemis was clearly distracted, rushing out of the room.  Della glanced at Mara.

"Excuse me for a minute"

And she ran out after him.

"Artemis!"

He slowed his pace, and turned to face her.

"I'll see you soon, right?"

he sighed

"I've been away from the capital for too long.  It looks bad"

"you had things to attend to here"

"Corellia needs a strong voice on Chandaar, or we'll get run over by the special interests.  I need to be there. That's what I was chosen to do, that's what I need to do"

Della nodded her head, then stood up on her toes, leaned forward, pressing her lips against his, her voice a gentle whisper.

"Don't stay away too long"

TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia

Mara felt like she had only just gotten settled at the ranch before she is off to work again, saving somebody from something or other.

Her first act though was reviewing the security protocols for the ranch.  Systems were adequate, but after all they had been through, Mara was not satisfied with 'adequate.'  She was already thinking of ways to supplement that security, but for now, the presence of Della Avers - who had, according to her record, proven to be capable both as a soldier and a stateswoman in the past - would have to do to watch over Riley as he settled into his new home.

Their new home.

The idea of it was still overwhelming to Mara, who had been on the run practically since she had first been created.

Then, to business.  the Patten ranch was equipped with a variety of communications equipment, and Mara had already arranged for supplemental equipment, including a new central transmitter to be installed, taking an old room in one wing of the home as an office.  Most of the Federation shareholders were surprised to hear from her, and skeptical at first glance.

"We are thinking of pulling our assets out of the company"
Mara nodded
"You could do that - I am arranging for a large buyer to assist in the Trade Federation's liquidation of assets.  You could be compensated for the worth of your stock, as it stands right now - at it's lowest value in nearly 15 years.  Or, you could hold out, and see if it becomes worth something.  With the new purchase?"
"Who's the buyer"
"If all goes well, Corellian Engineering Corporation"

A pause as the shareholder reflected on this development.

"What would I get for sticking around?"

Mara smiled, walking through her plans for the organization until the shareholder was satisfied, then let out a sigh as soon as she was done.  Nothing, of course, was set in stone, so all these negotiations could be for nothing.  Luckily, she had only to talk to about two dozen shareholders - the rest were all smaller entities with minimal say in the organization's governance.  There was one shareholder that she was unfamiliar with, a new corporation, named D.W. Inc., that seemed to have purchased a huge number of shares, such that it, by itself, held nearly a third of the Federation stock.  Mara was further unsettled by the unfamiliar face she saw in front of her when she got in touch.

"I'm surprised we've never met, your organization being such a dominant owner"

The individual smiled

"We like keeping our hands out of things - we're going to stick with the Federation for the long haul.  We've seen your work.  We trust you"

They seemed adamant to get off the line, and Mara was not about to press further and risk losing the approval she needed.

With enough shareholders in line, the next step was to call in the assets, and for this, she sent out a broad-banded message across the galaxy with an encrypted authorization code.

"Federation personnel, this is Mara Tacofer, Vice-Administrator and acting head of the Trade Federation.  In lieu of recent events, the Trade Federation has suffered severe setbacks, and assets have been evacuated all across the galaxy.  I am authorizing a signal of return, code 33-alpha-27-delta.  All Federation personnel, and moveable assets are to report to the planet Corellia and report immediately.  For purposes of this action, including confirmation of receipt of orders and of arrival, confirmation signals shall be sent to transmitter 6-D-9-L-4-E-8, located approximately 40 kilometers north of Coronet City.  Noncompliance will result in termination from Federation payroll, and potential legal ramifications if assets are not returned.  This message will replay ever 12 hours"

The message sent, Mara now had the hardest task at hand - convincing the CEC director, Duane Mangum to buy the Federation.

Della had arranged the meeting, and now Mara had to utilize her best negotiating skills where she had very little to offer.

A briefcase packed, Mara made her way through the quiet ranch to the room where Riley was sitting on the computer, Della nearby, the two of them chatting about something or other.

"I'm heading up for the meeting with Mangum."

The two looked at them, Riley nodded "see you later, Aunt Mara" and turned back to the computer.

Mara frowned at the back of her nephew turning to Della

"I'll keep an eye on him"

She nodded "thank you" and headed toward the entrance.  Trepidation continued through her every time she left Riley, never certain she wouldn't lose him again.  But this had to be done.

A shuttle had been ordered, taking Mara directly from the ranch to the CEC headquarters high in orbit, nestled among the massive construction yards.

Even as she was heading up, she glanced out the shuttle's window, back down at the ranch and then the planet as they grew smaller.

She sighed.  She had barely gotten settled, and it seemed as though she was always leaving somewhere.

TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia
Orbital Shipyards - Corellian Engineering Corp Headquarters Platform

Because Corellians care more about function than beauty, and CEC, a partially state-owned corporation held to that tradition, the offices of CEC's directors and chief executives were located amid the shipyards themselves. Nor were the offices themselves particularly elaborate.  Sparse save for a few personal items, small to conserve space, and the chairs looked like they had been refurbished from the leather seats of corellian freighters.

That didn't make Mara feel any less daunted by the task at hand.

Across from where she sat, Duane Mangum, Director of the Corellian Engineering Corporation was eyeing her with skepticism.

"I agreed to meet with you out of curiosity, Miss Tacofer.  And because I was asked to by a close friend.  But I'm not sure your offer is as good as you make it out to be."

"You would be gaining control of a huge array of assets that -"

"What we would be gaining is a huge array of unknowns.  Most of the Federation's assets have been scattered, commandeered, or destroyed.  Not withstanding your communication bursts, we don't know what will be showing up here.  The Trade Federation cannot even track down its largest possession, the Wheel, which houses much of the wealth you claim to possess.  Buying the liquid assets of the Trade Federation is a waste of time, and the brand doesn't add anything that CEC doesn't already have."

"We have contracts with huge markets - the Republic -"
"We don't have trouble negotiating with the Republic. We're PART of the Republic.  We already get special trade privileges with all Republic worlds, we are the main supplies of non-Mon-Cal military vessels and virtually all freight construction"

"What about the Trade Federation's droids?"

Mangum's already tight face frowned.

"battle droid is a dirty word here on Corellia, Miss Tacofer. Even after all these years, be it Phage, or Saga Judec - the use of droids for military purposes is shunned.  We won't change that here"

"The war with the Empire is expanding, and the Republic cannot man its ships as fast as you can build them.  I know what droids mean to Corellia, believe me.  But automated systems reduce the required fighting force significantly, and that will be necessary if this war continues to expand."

Mangum rose from his seat.

"If for some reason we chose to take on the Trade Federation's assets, we would take every droid and melt it down, and take every droid spec and burn it.  Am I clear?"

Mara stared at him for a moment.  She had, in her recent return to Corellia, with Riley and his whole birthright, forgotten the kind of droid-phobia that had dominated Corellia for the last dozen years.  Since Phage.  Another reminder that for all of Riley's supposed security, Corellia would reject Mara for what she really was.  Another reason to keep the secret hidden for another decade.

"I understand, Director.  I truly do.  But Federation assets includes more than just battle droids.  We have developed automated systems which allow flesh and blood individuals to handle twice as many ship functions.  Instead of manning a single weapon, a soldier can man three at the same time.  Without handing a single droid a gun, it would reduce the required ship crew.  Furthermore, the Trade Federation also has a huge line of domestic droids, designed to assist and help rather than hurt.  these are the droids I was speaking of.

The Federation stock exchange still exists, still is functional, even absent the Wheel.  Brokerage costs are going to Federation accounts - they could go to Corellia.  And once a new headquarters is established for the exchange, trading and brokerage costs will return to the levels they were at previously.  More income.

The Federation's gravity well nets have proven extremely useful to the Republic.  Corellia could be the one producing them.  Further protecting the Republic, further enriching Corellia.

When I talk of assets, I'm not speaking of nothing, Mr. Director.  I didn't come here empty handed. There are things I can give you."

The Director returned to his seat, eyeing Mara with the same look of skepticism as before.

"And what do you want in return?"

"A home - after the attack, Federation people were scattered far and wide, with no place to work, and no place to live.  I want that place for them, here on Corellia.  The Trade Federation won't survive independently. The Empire made sure of that.  But they didn't wipe out everyone that relied on the Federation."

"We wouldn't be able to hire everyone"
"I understand.  But your capacity to build will grow, and you'll need new hands."

Mangum nodded his head.

"Alright, Miss Tacofer.  I'll tell you what.  Let's see what your message brings to Corellia.  Once I know what it is CEC would be purchasing, I'll find out what the board thinks is a fair deal."

"That is all I can ask for, Director"

Mara stood and offered Mangum her hand.

"Miss Tacofer, I make no promises.  For the Trade Federation. For you.  We don't need this right now."

"I understand, Director.  I'd consider it a personal favor"

"Your not really in a position to be returning favors, Miss Tacofer"

Mara smiled.

"You'd be surprised"

TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia
Orbit

It had been almost a week of waiting, and Mara had been growing anxious.  It was entirely possible that the pieces of the Trade Federation after scattering had been lost - theft, piracy, abandonment.  She wasn't entirely sure what to do if that were the case.  What would happen to the Federation's assets, most of which were intangible, if the tangible assets no longer existed.

Then, they began appearing.  She had made arrangements to be notified by Corellian Central Traffic Control if anyone entered the system with a Trade Federation beacon, and all of a sudden, they began rolling in.

One after another, the evacuation tugs came baring their cargo.  Corellian Planetary Defenses swarmed to greet them, and as the days passed, the northwestern quadrant of the Corellian space became home to an entire city of platforms, ships, modules, of every shape and size.

The ancient droid control ship had lumbered into the system, eyed carefully by the Corellians, if only for its massive size, and been made the center of the growing Federation complex.

Mara was recognized as the surviving head of the organization, and the pilots and administrators fell into order.  Organization and assessing what was saved and what was lost was going to be key to moving on in the future, and so every day, Mara would leave Riley to head into orbit, hopping from ship to platform to ship.

The only thing missing was the Wheel itself.

Finally, Mara set up a new office for herself aboard the Droid Control Ship, just off the bridge.  The vessel had survived thanks in part to its massive size and heavy hull.  Damage marked the entire ship, and outer portions of the donut had been sealed off due to breaches.

The massive hangars were home to the surviving starfighter squadrons, many in need of repair, or at least, maintenance after long journeys without proper care.  Deeper inside, the museum portions of the ship had been shoved aside, making room for thousands of refugees who had sought cover there before the vessel had evacuated.  a city within.



Mara made her way along the catwalk of the vessel, looking down on the makeshift homes for these people, many of whom had lived in the Besh Gorgon system for years.  She prayed she could give them a future.

In her new office, she had invited the CEC Director aboard, and hoped the conversation would be progress from the last.

"Mr. Mangum, thank you for coming aboard."

"Miss Tacofer"  Mara wasn't sure the director had the ability to smile, the way he couldn't even greet her with pleasantries.

"You see what we have already"

"Yes, your little fleet has made quite the clutter of our space"
"If you buy it, you can relocate it all"
"A lot of it's junk, Miss Tacofer"
"A lot of it isn't, Mr. Mangum.  The ship you are on now is undergoing extensive repairs, and was build to be a headquarters away from any planet.  It can be used to establish operations ANYWHERE.  I've got two dozen starfighter construction platforms that all can start producing in a matter of days.  A half dozen droid factories for domestic products, an assortment of arms manufacturing, Federation pharmaceutical laboratories, the works.  We long gave up relying on a planet, and so everything was mobile, and now it's all coming here.  All you have to do is buy it."
"Every day I wait, your shares go down."
"That stopped being true a week ago.  News reports indicate that the Federation is alive and will reopen for business.  Shares were static until confirmation of the assets we have started pouring in.  Our shares doubled for the last two days."
"An over-sell.  Do you have the means to maintain it all?"
"We have resources saved up, but we'd rather sell it off for some security.  My people need homes and places to work.  If you won't buy, I'll find someone else who will, but you see we've got it.  You can feel free to inspect what we have, but the more that comes in, the HIGHER your price will have to be."

Mangum paused, blinking without saying a word.

"Send me your diagnostic reports"

Mara slid a data pad across the table.

"You can stall, Director, but you know what I'm saying is true.  You've got a good deal here, good for you, for Corellia, for everyone"

Mangum lifted up the datapad, scanning it briefly, before looking up.

"Very well, Miss Tacofer.  I think we can have a deal"

"You won't regret it"

"I'd better not"

TBC