Fragments of Lies, OC, Wes, Soontir - SoA

[Maggy]

Title: Fragments of Lies
Author: Maggy
Timeframe: Post Starfighters of Adumar
Characters: OC; Wes Janson, Soontir Fel, and many others.
Genre: Adventure
Keywords: craziness
Summary: see trailer - first post



Five years ago I wrote my very first fanfiction which I posted here. Well, I am not going to tell you which one that was. For my anniversary I’m going to post a trailer for a ‘fic I’m working on at the moment.
I’ve spent the last couple of months RPing on another board and this ‘fic will be centred on my character in this RP.

Many thanks to Blue_but_beautiful for the inspiration and the beta work on the chapters. As well spending countless hours to bounce ideas around and how things might work out best.
Thanks to Volk who had - will have - to listen to all the whining when I was - and will be -stuck.
And thanks to Ceillean who joined the crew of ‘preview’ readers and keeps me going.

[Maggy]

*music starts to play The Tusken Camp

[Opens with an image of Wes Janson sitting on a chair, his hands are bound behind his back. Only flickering candlelight is illuminating the scene. Cassandra with blonde hair is standing above him, kissing then his cheek. Wes’ eyes grow large before he collapses. She steps back and steps into the darkness]

[the image fades to darkness]

*music stops*

[slowly stars fade into the darkness]

*music starts to play Rebel Blockade Runner*

Voice Over:
For over ten millennia Adumar was at itself, trapped in space without connection to other planets.

[cut from the darkness to a bright illuminated planet which is covered with clouds, thick around the equator, forming major storm formations. Toward the poles they thin out, showing oceans and landmasses that appear to be green, wedged with grey mountain massifs.]

Voice Over:
This ends now, the Empire and the New Republic has sent ambassador to convince the governments of the planet to join their alliance.

[the image zooms closer to the planet, and two major ships become visible, one on each side of the planet. One is the Imperial-class Star Destroyer Agonizer and the other one the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Allegiance]

Voice Over:
The competition has started. In the air

[cut to flightknives of Blade-32’s in the air, firing at each other, some of them exploding into fire balls and shrapnel before the background of a deep blue sky.]

[cut to cheering people on the street, dressed in colourful cloths with wide sleeves. Wires stretch from each building to others, forming a loose web over the streets.]

[cut to four pilots in imperial uniform that walk through a passage in the crowd, bathing in the praises and adorations from the people on the street.]

[cut to a young woman with brown hair and green eyes. She is observing the cheering people on a flatscreen, her face is grimacing in disdain.]

Voice Over:
As well as on the ground.

*music fades to Across the Stars*

[cut to Wedge Antilles, Tycho Celchu, Wes Janson and Hobbie Klivian who are entering a ball room. The four men are dressed in colourful cloths and capes as it is a local tradition. They merge with the Adumari and blend perfectly into the crowd]

[cut to the young woman with brown hair who is standing in a quiet corner in the ball room, her eyes settled on Wes Janson and his companions as they moved through the crowd. A young man stands besides her, gazing in the same direction as she does]

Tris’kan:
Too bad, Cassy, all dressed up and no chance for us lowies to talk with those famous folks. We are lucky enough to have managed to have seen them for a couple of seconds.

[cut to Wedge, Tycho, Wes, Hobbie and their newly picked up companions, Tomer Darpen, Hallis Saper and the Blastsword Champion of Cartaan Cheriss ke Hanadi moving through the crowd, shaking hands and making small talk]

[cut to Tris’kan who drags Cassandra through chatting people into the line of the path the pilots of the New Republic are taking.]

Tris’kan:
Cheriss ke Hanadi, Cartann blastsword duelling Ground Champion, I beg to allow me to present to you and your guests this young pilot, Cassandra O’Brien and myself, Tris’kan ke Otan, we both serve Cartaan Starfighter Command. It is our pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[cut to Cassandra who blushes crimson at the boldness of her friend. Wes moves forward and elegantly takes her hand and presented her with a smile]

Voice Over:
What is love but the strangest of feelings? A sin you swallow for the rest of your life?

[cut to Wes Janson in dress uniform leading Cassandra in another gown to the dance floor. Skilled he leads her through the steps]

[cut to Wedge, Tycho, Hobbie and Iella obviously whispering about their friend]

[cut to Wes and Cassandra leaving the room]

Voice Over:
How do you turn what that savage take? You’ve been looking for someone to believe in

[cut to the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Allegiance that breaks orbit and speeds up before it jumps into hyperspace.]

[cut to a black image]

*music fades to Duel of the Fates*

[cut to the Executor-class Star Dreadnaught Reaper and it’s adorned fleet reverting to normal space close to Adumar’s orbit]

[cut to a blazing fire in a street, people running screaming]

[cut to a explosion, glass bursting into shards, walls giving way under the pressure, buildings falling into themselves. Screams of agony slice through the rumbling noises and explosions.]

[cut to Blade-32s raising into the air, engaging TIE-fighters though the local crafts have no chance against the advanced imperial skills]

[cut to another explosion, the palace of the perator bursts into flames]

[cut to Cassandra who lies on the ground, her body is covered with blood. It seeps through a gash on her stomach. One of her legs is bent in an odd angle.]

[cut to a black image]

Byran’s voice as voice over:
Take care of her.

*music fades to The Imperial March (Darth Vader's Theme)*

[cut to a changed Cassandra, her hair is bound back in a severe bun, she is dressed in an uniform. The image zooms slowly out, showing her in a row of around 14-year old Chiss. The alien children are standing disciplined in rows, the woman in the middle of them.]

[cut to clawcraft, racing through the emptiness of space toward a destroyer]

[cut into the cockpit and the female pilot, which is Cassandra]

[cut to the flight deck, Soontir Fel looking approvingly at the woman who climbs down the ladder, jumping the last steps. She strokes her hair out of her face and eyes. Her helmet she holds under her arm. General Fel is approaching her.]

Soontir Fel:
You’re a good assert to the Empire of the Hand.

[cut to Cassandra who gives General Fel a short nod.]

Cassandra:
Thank you, Sir.

[cut to a black image]

[cut to a planet, a stony hand that looks like reaching toward the sky contrasts only slightly to the light grey sky. Two clawcrafts races into the image and toward the bastion]

[cut to Cassandra accompanied by very young Chak Fel who resembles a lot his father, walking toward a waiting Admiral Voss Parck.]

[cut to a zoomed out image of that scene showing rows of soldiers, humans and Chiss]

[cut to the same scene setting though Cassandra and Chak are among the rows of soldiers.]

*music fades to Battle of Heroes*

[cut to the darkness of space, dotted with tiny, distant stars. A Vagaari ship hangs in space, as it seems waiting. Transparisteel bubbles are spread over the hull and it seems as are they alive.]

[cut to zoom of one of those bubbles, a living creature in it becomes visible.]

[cut to a ship approaching the Vagaari vessel. The ship was around 300 meters long, grown out of living stone. It was an unusual design for a galaxy dominated by steel ships.]

[cut to the interior of one bubble with a close up of the prisoner. His skin is sickly gray, small blue sacks are under his eyes. His forehead slopes back and his ears are pointy. Scars and tattoos cover most of his skin. The captive is one of the Far Outsiders.]

[cut to a black image]

[cut to clawcrafts engaging Vagaari and Far Outsider fighters]

[cut to Cassandra running down a corridor, firing her blaster backwards. Couple of steps behind her a Far Outsider rushing after her]

[cut to a clawcraft exploding and a Far Outsider fighter flying through the fireball]

[cut to a grim looking Voss Parck on the command deck of the bridge of his flagship. Beyond the viewport ships explode and laserbolts flash]

[cut to Cassandra pulling Chak out of the fire line and behind some cargo boxes]

[cut to Far Outsiders rushing down a corridor, their vonduun crab boots crashing against the metal floor plating]

[cut to a Vagaari being cut down by one of the alien warriors]

[cut to Cassandra being moulded into a seemingly living apparatus]

[cut to a disfigured face]

*music stops*

Far Outsider:
And your first task will be to bring us your latest lover.

[cut to Cassandra who slightly nods]

[cut to black image]





Fragment of Lies





by Maggy

[Durell]

Yeah! It is Maaaaaggy!!!!!!!




Now, that is a very interesting beginning.

You should post more very soon.

[Maggy]

Thank you sweety and as requested

***


Prologue

Taanab, Pandath, 20 ABY


A muffled yelp sliced through the dark silence of the cave. It echoed ghostly from the stony vaulted ceiling before it died down.

Her prisoner had awoken.

She stood quietly, watching him in the dim light. She had her arms wrapped around herself, trying to keep the chill at bay.

The flickering candles cast an eerie light that licked up against the grey stone walls and the bound prisoner. The blindfold covered most of his forehead as well as the upper part of his nose. He’d been gagged, preventing him to yell, quieting anything he tried to utter to a mere whisper.

She noticed the subtle changes in his legs and arms, muscles flexing under his trousers and shirt. Slowly, he straightened up from his slumped position as he regained control of his body.

He stopped moving then. He barely breathed and she suspected he was listening into the darkness, trying to get a sense if someone was with him. She watched him with narrowed eyes.

She’d timed how long her prisoner had been out cold.

Time mattered.

She had used a self-made poison which she had mixed into his drink earlier that day. The man had been on a party, the whole kriffing world celebrating some holiday. It had been so easy to capture him.

He flexed his arms in an attempt to break free of the binds around his wrists. The durasteel bands and the chain connecting them intertwined with the back of the stool he was sitting on. His once white shirt was stained with soil, grass and sweat. She’d had to drag him through underbrush before they had reached the entrance to the cave. His trousers weren’t any better off, also stained with dirt.

There were cuffs enclosed around his ankles as well, held stiffly in place through a chain slung through a steel ring in the stony ground. Even if he could manage to get up, he would not be able to flee.

Beads of sweat covered his forehead, pearling down cool, pale skin and trickling onto the scarf covering his eyes, a sign of his efforts to free himself of his shackles.

“Give it up, darling, you’re wasting your energy,” she said quietly. Her voice sliced through the silence like a blaster shot and he immediately stiffened.

He uttered something, the words muffled, incoherent sounds.

“If you promise to keep your voice down, I’ll remove the cloth from your mouth so you can breathe more easily,” she offered and waited for his confirmation.

The man nodded in agreement. She moved to his side quietly, startling him with her touch as she removed the gag just a second later.

“Why?” he asked in a hoarse voice and then inhaled the stale, humid air.

“To answer the ‘why’ would take the entire evening,” she whispered into his ear. She could smell his cold sweat, the smoky traces of the bar lingering on his skin.

“It’s not like I’ve any other plans right now,” he joked.

“I’ve to admit, you’ve a point there, but to explain it to you is a waste of time. I’d have to make you forget.” she explained as she moved away from him. Even after all this time, she was still fascinated by him, still attracted to him. And inside the cold cave, his body heat was like an invitation to touch him.

“Aeron,” he whispered. ”Your name is Aeron, isn’t it? My friends will come and find you, hunt you. You don’t know with whom you’re playing games here.”

“Darling, you’re mistaken, I know exactly who you are, who your friends are. You seem to forget that you left a bar, wrapped in the arms of a girl. How soon do you think you’re going to be missed?” she asked him and let him consider when his friends would find it suspicious when he didn’t return.

He was quiet for a while, the silence stretching into minutes in which only his breathing could be heard.

“Touché,” he whispered, tugging on the restraints. The chains clattered, causing a thundering noise in the cave.

“I think I told you already that you’re wasting your energy trying to break free. I promise you, darling, that I will let you go as soon as it is safe,” she assured him and then added in a faint whisper, “for us.” She didn’t know if her whisper carried to him or not, and even so it wouldn’t matter in the end.

He didn’t respond for a long time and Aeron settled down and waited.

The celebrations would be on full swing later that day, fireworks had been planned to last for hours. It would be an easy task to dispose of him unnoticed with a lacking memory of what had occurred and feigning her demise.

“Can you take this damn blindfold form my eyes? It’s itchy and uncomfortable, and it’s not like I don’t know what you look like,” the leader of the Yellow Aces demanded.

Aeron sighed, “I’d rather not.” She wasn’t sure if she could resist his charm when his brown, warm eyes settled on her. They had undone her before.

Her unease must have crept into her voice because his head turned in her direction and she sensed mild surprise.

“I don’t need my eyes to know that I’m in a cave. I also recall what you look like, your green eyes, the curve of your eyebrows, the colour of your hair. Keeping me from looking at you will not prevent me from recognizing you,” he attempted to reason with her. His voice held sureness in it, rather uncommon in captives.

Aeron decided not to answer. She pulled herself farther away, trying to distance herself from the man before her.

“Am I that scary now?” he saw the chance to taunt her.

In a way, she regretted having allowed him to speak, having made it easier for him to breathe. She pondered to gag him again, to make him shut up.

Her eyes settled on him and she was at his side in an instant. Her soft boots didn’t make a sound on the hard ground, there wasn’t even the rustling of her clothes. Nothing betrayed her movement.

“You’re definitely not scary,” she said, her breath tickling over the skin of his cheek. She observed his startled reaction, he had not expected her to be so close.

Aeron suppressed the urge to stroke his cheek before she loosened the blindfold from his eyes. She moved behind him, out of his field of vision as she finally pulled it off.

She imagined him blinking against the candlelight, his eyes not used to the light flickering on the floor. His head turned, obviously looking for her though his shackles didn’t allow him to twist around enough to clearly spot her. He arched his body into the other direction, trying his luck again. He gave up and returned to a normal sitting position.

“Are you hiding from me now?”

“You might not be scary, darling, but I know for certain that you’re dangerous.”

“Well, you’ve bound me and secured here on this spot, how dangerous can I be?” he wondered.

“Was it not you who promised to hunt me down with your friends, darling?”

“And were they not your words that said you would let me free when it’s safe, whatever the kriff that means?” he shot back. “From what would I be safe? What is the cause of the danger you seem so intent to protect me from? And why the hell do I have to be shackled on this kriffing chair?”

Aeron started to circle him, his question making her uneasy. She stopped to face him, “You’re full of questions, darling.”

“And you don’t intend to answer them?” he gave her a curious look. His brown eyes bored into hers, causing a shiver to run down her back.

An image flashed through her mind, the very same brown eyes gazing at her, erratic movement of naked skin and moans. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. It had been in another lifetime. That was gone, over.

She refocused on her captive and noticed that he spoke again, “- Aeron, right?

She looked confused, having missed his words.

“Did you even hear what I said?” he sighed, “You seem to have been somewhere else. Was it good?” He didn’t really give her a chance to answer his question, he assumed she had not been listening in the first place, “Well I was asking you, if we can just forget what happened here, and you let me go and I’ll not hold it against you. Seems like this isn’t what you do for a living anyway. Find yourself some lucky bastard to be your husband and have children. You’re not qualified to be a bounty hunter or killer or assassin or whatever you think you are.”

“You’re mistaken, I’m just the wrong person for the job in your case, darling.” She crossed her arms before her chest and gazed at him.

“In my case? What the hell are you talking about, woman?” now it was his turn to look confused.

“I’m not surprised ... well since you’re not going to remember anyway...,” she shrugged and took a deep breath. “We’ve met before, a long time ago. You remember Adumar, don’t you?”

“Why would I not remember?” Realization dawned on his face, “Of course I remember Adumar.”

“Then you might remember a girl you saved from being shot over the forest where your squadron of Flightknives had hidden? And you might also remember having met her afterwards for a drink or two ... maybe even a bit more?”

Wes Janson stared at her. Aeron assumed he was trying to find the connection.

“You are not going to tell me now that you’re that girl, you don’t even look like her.”

“Of course not, years have passed, Wes, you’ve changed, I’ve changed. You’ve led Blastpike Flightknives-”

“That is no proof at all,” he interrupted her. “You can have read that in any historic documents.” It felt odd to have him call it ‘historic documents’. She wasn’t that old, was she?

“So do the documents also include that you saved a girl, shooting her pursuers. You picked her up during a party, invited her for a drink. You told her that she could leave you after a single drink. She agreed. She didn’t leave you, on the contrary. Tell me how I should know this from historic records.” Aeron looked at Wes challengingly. She had noticed how he had blushed slightly listening to her words, probably remembering. Or it was the blush of betrayal that he didn’t remember.

“One of the first things I said was ‘Got a bit of fire in you, huh?’ I remember that day.” His eyes wandered over her body, trying to match her appearance to his memory. “And you claim to be her? You’ve changed.”

She broke eye contact with him and looked away, one of the flickering candles suddenly being rather interesting, “I am not claiming to be her. I am that girl from Adumar who was saved by the famous pilot Major Wes Janson. I remember you and that your help was unwanted and that I would have managed everything alone.”

“You really are that little spitfire? I ... I wondered what happened to you. I thought of you now and then,” he blurred out.

“Sure you did, Wes,” she said quietly with a sigh.

His warm brown eyes tried to catch her gaze and softly he requested, “Let me go, Aeron.”

Her green eyes locked with his, “I told you it is not the right time.”

“Maybe you should let me in on your plan ... you already admitted that you don’t intend to harm me.”

“I -,” she interrupted herself and pulled off the tiny piece of cloth she had stuffed into the pocket of her trousers. Aeron took a step forward and then another one.

“Don’t, please, I’ll not question you again,” Wes kept his voice low, seductive. It had the same vibrancy as when they had met the first time.

Despite the effect his voice had on her she came closer and closer. His eyes were on her, piercing, feeling uncomfortable. She imagined lips forming a kiss, sending it on the way towards her. It made her stop dead in her tracks. Her eyes narrowed, considering him for a long moment.

‘Had his words been true? Had he not forgotten her, had he really been thinking of her?’
Her hands fisted around the cloth.

She noticed that his eyes had settled on her hand and he said, “You don’t need to do that, you know. It’s already enough that you’ve me bound and rather helpless, no?”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Wes Janson?”

“Of course not!” he protested. “I’m not. But I can tell that you don’t want this from your movements, your voice ... Aeron you can’t tell me that you really want to do keep me all bound up here.” Wes tried to look relaxed in his bound form, his back was supported by the backrest, his shoulders falling back. His legs were slightly parted.

“You’re imagining things. Am I not simply a young vegetable, good enough for an adventure?”

His eyes narrowed slightly at her words, they rung familiar in his ears. How could they not, they were his words a long time ago to his friends and fellow pilots.

“You ... you heard that? Is that the reason why you’re doing this? A kind of revenge?”

“You take your words too seriously, darling.”

“There is it again, and you contradict yourself. You don’t want to do it and still here you are, doing it.”

“Wes, since when have you taken up psychology? Are you trying to analyze me? Give it up,” she was standing close to him, her legs nearly touching his.

“Can’t you forget your own restraints and just give in into what you desire? Just for a few short moments?” his brown eyes bored into hers.

Suddenly her lips were on his, forcefully, passionately. As quick as she had forgotten about her restraints they clicked into place again and she pulled away.

With surprise in his brown eyes he gazed up to her, he certainly had not expected this. She wavered for a second or two. Then it was replaced by an inner fire and she leaned down to kiss him again, softly, testing if he would respond or if his words had just been empty.

His lips moved slightly beneath hers, sucking her lower lip into his mouth carefully. His eyes were open and watching her. He moved his head, tilting it up, his lips parting, deepening the kiss.

She felt a shiver run down her spine. She caught herself as she sat down, straddling his lap. Her hands slung around his neck, her body pressed against his. At some point she broke the kiss, moving back slightly.

He gazed up to her, moving forward, trying to capture her lips again though she moved backwards. He groaned in frustration, “You’re a tease.”

She smiled at him and then leaned forward, kissing his cheek.
Frustrated, he pulled on his restraints, his muscles flexing, a futile attempt to touch her.

“You’re killing me woman,” he groaned.

“You’ve no idea, Wes Janson. I was ordered to do just that.” She walked behind him, out of his view, her finger wandering over his shoulders. Aeron bent to pick something up she had already prepared, a small injection with a clear liquid. Her fingers closed around it, and she swallowed hard.
It had to be done.

“You still don’t have to do it, you know. I can keep this quiet and you can just walk out of here,” he whispered hoarsely.

“No, I can’t. I’m sorry Wes, really truly sorry,” she hushed and finally faced him.

His brown eyes gazed at her, the flickering candles made it appear like a play of colour, shades of brown and gold dancing with each other. It was rather mesmerizing.

Aeron blinked against the force that was his eyes and gave him a last, sweet smile before she kissed his cheek. Unseen to him she raised her hand and stabbed the needle into his upper arm.

His eyes dilated in horror and surprise before they grew blank.

“What have you done?” he slurred before his eyes fluttered closed and his head sunk against his chest.

“What I had to do,” she answered his unconscious form. She set to work. Her professional mind clicked into place.

[Durell]

YEAH, more. I like where this is going.

[Maggy]

cover for the story:

Cover




Chapter 1
Famous People

Adumar, Cartann, 13 ABY

The arched entryway would lead her to the Royal Outer Court and to the large ballroom. A kind of nervousness started to fill her. It was the first time that also her rather unknown Flightknife was invited to such an event. Her commander had never managed to gain any respected success, won no notable fight until recently. It was enough though to be officially recognized to this ball.

She was dressed in a blue gown, though cut and designed was after the design that suited officers in the Cartannian Forces. That meant it was not as fancy as those of the famous and rich attending this feast. The bodice was tight fitting, the skirt flowing down her legs, not too tight but not swinging either. It was rather uncommon to leave the arms bare so the sleeves were wide and flowing. The outfit was completed with a cape draped around her shoulders which was long enough to nearly touch the ground.

Her long brown hair was pinned up, some streaks falling down and framing her face. She held her head high as she approached the door.

The two guards besides the door opened for her the semi transparent curtain, a silvery mesh material that served as kind of door. The previously low hum of music won on intensity and voices mixed with it.

For a moment the young woman was stunned by the pompous of the hall. Light sparkled through the huge room, illuminating the dancing people in the centre. After regional costumes they were dressed in colourful clothes only similar in the cut of their sleeves which matched those of her own gown. Her eyes finally managed to rip free of the centre of the gathering and took in the other parts.

It was a tall two-story room, with balconies running around the second story. A lot of people gathered up there, looking down on the going-ons without taking really part in it, content to be voyeurs. The walls below the balconies were draped with silvery shimmering tapestries which were illuminated from the back. Two of those tapestries were drawn aside, revelling flat screens which showed in magnification those standing before them.

She noted to herself that she would avoid those places at any cost, she felt uncomfortable at the thought of being shown in that presentation throughout the whole room. There was little privacy afforded to those displayed on these screens.

Flight Officer Cassandra ke Brien made her way through the crowd, greeting the necessary celebrities. Formally, she greeted the commander of the base she had spotted among a group of people. She had to help him with her name, though he recognized it after a fashion. After a couple of pleasantries and a ‘Hope you enjoy the ball’ she continued on her path.

Cassandra helped herself to a glass of papya juice and quietly observed the hall from a corner. She didn’t notice how someone approached her till he was standing right before her face. She blinked and smiled slightly, “Hey Tris’kan.”

Brown eyes gazed into hers, his hair tousled and unruly. His lips were graced by a slight smile that appeared to light up his face. He was wearing a blue tunic, nearly the same colour as her dress, black trousers and boots. His cape was a sparkling dark blue, shimmering in the lights of the room.

“Why are you hiding back here? I thought we were supposed to be enjoying ourselves?” he asked her. “It’s not every day that we are allowed in here.”

Tris’kan ke Otan was one of her fellow pilots, also a Flight Officer. He had, just as herself, not done anything extraordinary to be yet permitted the rank of Flight Lieutenant. He was around a couple of months younger than Cassandra, the boy’ish roundness of his features, had not yet totally vanished from his face.

“I’m not hiding, Tris’kan, I’m observing,” she corrected him.

“Oh right, you wait for the grand entrance of the Republic pilots. Have you heard that they shot down Buan ke Shia and Dyans ke Vasan?” He noticed her expression and could tell that she had heard of that, so he continued, “My bad, of course you would have heard.”

Cassandra had spent much of her free time on reading about the New Republic and their famous pilots. Among those who had caught her attention were Wes Janson and Wedge Antilles. She was amazed how this Wedge Antilles invaded Coruscant, the capital city of the former Empire, with a couple of people. Even more fascinating she thought Wes Janson with his statement that made it to the records of "You can't look dignified while having fun" She thought that it hit the target completely.
Cartann pilots were all very serious and formal, nothing was more important than their honour. But honour couldn’t buy you your meal at the end of the day.

She remembers how her father had often had a go at Cartann’s habits of shooting down defenceless pilots, who ejected after their Blade was damaged. Ejecting lost it's sense when your opponent targeted you anyway. In her father’s tales, honour was connected with helping those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

Then something caught her attention and her gaze wandered to the entrance. Five men had entered. The first one, who seemed to be their guide, was dressed in uniform. The second one was dressed in mostly green with a creamy coloured tunic. The next was clad in a blue shimmering, colour changing tunic, with a black hip length cloak, black trousers and boots. His head was covered with a skullcap and bore a sharp peak and a semi-transparent visor covering parts of his face. The fourth was dressed in blue with a red tunic, trimmed with yellow. The last one to enter wore matte black except the tunic seemed to shimmer when he moved. Draped around his shoulders was a cape that nearly reached the floor, it was in a deep red-purple with crystalline stars that seemed to blink with an internal light.

“It has to be them,” she muttered to Tris’kan, who turned around to see what she was referring to. Cassandra had recognized them from all her reading and the images provided. They looked better in the flesh than on the screen images.

The group did not really draw much attention, as they walked through the room, directly to the largest gathering, which was around Perator Pekaelic ke Teldan. She imagined the man who lead the group would introduce them to the perator formally.

From the distance she couldn’t make out what was said but the surprised expressions from the crowd she could see clearly. The people closed around the new arrivals and therefore made it impossible for Cassandra to continue to observe them.

A grin appeared on Tris’kan face, “Too bad, Cassy, all dressed up and no chance for us lowies to talk with the famous folks. We are lucky enough to have managed to have seen them for a couple of seconds.”

“You be quiet! You do not understand it at all,” she scowled at him. “Maybe if they had sent a female pilot you would think differently?”

“Not even the Imperials have sent a female pilot-”

“I’m aware of that, I spotted General Turr Phennir and his three pilots as they entered, however, their names slipped my mind.”

This caused another grin to appear on Tris’kan’s face. “It slipped your mind or can it be that you’re more interested what the New Republic’s pilots are up to?”

“And it might surprise you that there are not any female pilots mentioned in the files I have read about the Empire?”

Then he became more serious, “You’re joking, right? No female pilot mentioned? It must be rather dull then to fly with the Empire. Where is the fun in that?”

Cassandra kept quiet as the gathering around Perator Pekaelic ke Teldan started to move, leaving the New Republic pilots on their own with two new persons in their group. One of them she recognized immediately, her face constantly being the headline of the sports news, Cheriss ke Hanadi, the current blastsword Cartann Ground Champion. The second, also a woman had some strange droid head on her shoulder.

She bristled slightly and Tris’kan turned around, "The Imperials are rather unfortunate to haven’t such a pretty face as their guide."

“You’re just jealous that you’re not getting a ‘guide’,” Cassandra chided, envying the current blastsword champion's job as guide. Cheriss would now spend a lot of time with four fantastic pilots. Since she was no pilot and had never showed any interest in learning the skills necessary, it might actually be rather boring for her.

“Now you got me,” he raised his hands in defeat. “What are they doing?”

“They seem to be discussing something,” she mused.

“That’s your chance Cassy, to go and talk with them,” he suggested.

She paled slightly, “Talk? I ... I don’t know.”

“Do I smell fear?” he teased her. Tris’kan hid the fact that he wasn’t all too comfortable with that thought perfectly well. After all he just had suggested talking with the most famous people in that room, but he had to keep his cool before Cassandra. It was much more fun to tease her about her insecurities and risking being a big mouth than being called a coward.

“Oh you, be quiet, you wouldn’t dare either,” she tried to reason with him.

“Now come, you cute coward, pretend to be famous and well known and deserving enough to be introduced to your crushes,” he continued with his teasing.

“Oh you, shut up or you'll discover a new meaning for pain,” she scowled at him threateningly.

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, “Coward.” Then he took her hand and pulled her along with him. With horror she realized what his goal was, the group of Republic pilots that tried to push their way through the crowd. Forcefully she tried to get out of Tris’kan’s hold, but his grip was iron like.

Tris’kan stepped into the way of Cheriss ke Hanadi and presented her with a charming smile, “Cheriss ke Hanadi, Cartann blastsword duelling Ground Champion, I beg you to forgive me for the interruption, but allow me to present to you and your guests this young pilot, Cassandra ke Brien and myself, Tris’kan ke Otan, we both serve Cartann Starfighter Command. It is our pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Cassandra was slightly stunned by his bold approach and her cheeks flushed dusky pink from embarrassment. Cheriss just smiled kindly at them and answered in similar fashion, “Pilots of Cartann Starfighter Command, I think you’ve heard of those four pilots, Major Derek Klivian, Major Wes Janson, Colonel Tycho Celchu and General Wedge Antilles, and then there is documentarian Hallis Saper and Ambassador Tomer Darpen.”

Wedge, Tycho and Hobbie politely shook Tris’kan’s hand, while Tomer Darpen and Hallis Saper just nodded. Wes in the meantime turned to Cassandra with a bright grin on his lips, “My pleasure to make your acquaintance. I think you’re the first Lady I met on this rock who is a pilot.”

She blushed at his appreciative words, more so, and tried to keep her calm. It was becoming difficult since the intensity of her blush made it feel as though her cheeks might catch fire at any moment.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Major Janson.” The young woman wished that the ground would part before her and just swallow her into oblivion. This was all so embarrassing. Tris’kan really had a hand for that. How was it he could dare to push her into such a situation? She looked like a fool now.

“Just Wes, why so formal?” Wes Janson smiled at her and asked, “I’m curious, Cassandra, are the women on this planet superior to their male colleagues, seeing that Cheriss is the current champion and those pilots who thought to cross us as we landed, did not have much luck with shooting us down?”

“Uhh, Wes” she stammered, “I think that everything depends on circumstances, no? You can’t generalize it's not that simple. Training and skill matters and that isn't dependant on gender, just on discipline and the will to succeed.”

Her own words made her uneasy, since despite her training she had not yet gained anything and was still rather low ranking in the Starfighter Command, even after all the months she already served. It suddenly seemed to her that she had no talent at all to be a worthy starfighter pilot. Then her views and opinions differed very much from those of other Cartannians. This fact had caused her some trouble in the past. Often enough though, she had managed to dodge complaints and questionings.

Janson’s brown eyes still gazed at her, dancing with softness, “You’re young and have just started to train and learn, I’m sure soon you'll be out-flying them all.”

She squirmed slightly under his gaze and forced a smile on her lips, “I thank you for your kind words, Major.”

“Wes,” he corrected her. “And at one point, I had no idea how to pilot a craft either, and look where I am now? Advertising on newly discovered planets and talking with beautiful women just like you. Maybe we can find some time and I can show you one or two moves?”

Cassandra was stunned to silence by his offer, a flying lesson with one of the most famous pilots currently on planet. She had to be dreaming, it was so surreal.

“That would be fantastic,” she managed to force herself to say after this very generous offer.

She noticed that Wes’ eyes were looking over her shoulder and he issued a small nod. She turned and saw an impatient looking Wedge Antilles standing a couple meters away, close to the buffet. She focused back to the man before her.

He gave her a rueful smile, “I’m sorry but the General requests my presence and who dares to cross the General? Have a nice evening, Cassandra, and I really hope we get to this training.”

He bowed slightly to her, before he followed his squadron, who had already reached the buffet, happily delving into the food. Cassandra imagined hearing a low rumble and suspected it came from his stomach as he saw all the food, and was reminded that he had not yet something to eat.

Men and food, she mused it must be the same on all worlds.

Cassandra turned to Tris’kan and took his hand, pulling him away toward the dark corner she had been lurking in earlier. As they reached it, she closed her eyes for a moment before she stared at him, anger reflected in her green orbs.

“Are you mad?!” she said furious in a hushed voice. “How can you do that to me? We are nothing compared to what they have done. We can’t even talk about any notable fight, we have nothing auspicious on record in comparison, not even a higher rank than Flight Officer. We are not even Lieutenants yet. They fought against the Empire, destroyed two Death Stars and you just walk toward them like they have known us for years?!”

“And?” he said casually. “You have met them now. They breathe air just like we do, and cook with water. Stop stressing so much.”

“I can’t believe how daring you’ve been,” she said under a sudden fit of giggles. The anger and stress falling from her, slowly relaxing and accepting what just had happened. Tris’kan could be such an uncalculated lad at times. She would never have dreamed to stand before those four, let alone talk with them. And now her very crazy friend made it true, for her. He was right, they were just beings like them. Her fear was unfounded and ridiculous in retrospect.

“If you don't go and take what you want you will never gain anything, Cassy, just stop being so modest about your skills and just get rid of all those restrains you put on yourself. Only you can help yourself, end of discussion.” Tris’kan gave her a hard look before his features softened to a smile. “You, woman, are going to dance with me now, or I am going to tell all our dear squadron mates what a coward you are.” He had to grin rather sweetly at her when he said that.

“You wouldn't dare,” she said, unsure though offered him her hand to lead her to the parquet floor. He took it and placed the other on the small of her back and guided her toward him. Skilfully he lead her over the surface and she fell naturally into his step. Tris’kan and Cassandra moved to the music.

Her eye caught Wes Janson again and how he approached a blonde woman in a dark blue dress. She kindly smiled at him though after just a couple of moments he left the table again.

The other pilots had gathered around the place where a challenge took place. A functionary had issued the competition, announcing it with a yellow circle drawn by a blastsword. It had attracted the attention of the crowd and they moved around the fighting place, the constant murmur of conversation quiet down a bit.

“We have a non-title ground challenge,” sliced through the background noises. “Lord Pilot Depird ke Fanax challenges Cartann Ground Champion Cheriss ke Hanadi, vengeance for her feat of Jeapird ke anax at the last championship.”

Applause erupted from the masses.

Tris’kan had turned his attention to it and so they stopped dancing. They walked toward the gathering of people to observe the competition. The young woman had, after a couple of strokes, the challenger on the ground and General Wedge Antilles indicated to spare his life.

The fight had been the climax of the evening and the event slowly died down after it. Tris’kan and Cassandra decided to leave just like some of the others.

The evening had already approached late night.

This post has been edited by Maggy on Nov 8 2009, 12:37 PM