Amir yawned in the pilot's seat of the ship.
This mission had been more dangerous than expected—he'd almost died in there. Playing it safe was clearly the smarter approach.
Still, he had run into old man Ascot, and gained some valuable intel.
"He said 'they' wouldn't let me go. Who are 'they'? And before that, he said I'd find answers at the Imperial Academy. What answers?"
Beep-beep-beep!
"Thanks, BD-4. I'm not confused—just curious."
This was, after all, about his own origins. Apart from the memories of a past life, he truly was the owner of this body now.
Rensys had been placed in a guest room to rest.
Senil had sent Amir a message—he wanted the "blue elf" delivered to a space station Amir had never even heard of.
The coordinates were already received. Amir was adjusting the ship's course.
"What should we name this ship?" Amir asked BD-4.
BD-4 emitted a questioning chirp.
"Knew it. Droids have no sense of art." Amir grinned.
BD-4 let out a series of frantic protest beeps in response.
Amir stopped teasing the little droid and looked ahead.
An endless sea of stars stretched before them—a magnificent, pure sight. The shimmering lights were the eternal beacons for those who roamed the galaxy.
A chill passed over him. He pulled his coat tighter.
"Let's drop off the blue elf and go back to Coruscant."
Beep-beep-bloop!
"Don't ask me what a blue elf is."
The ship vanished into hyperspace, trailing a stream of light behind it.
"Let's name it... the Voyager."
Beep-beep!
Senil stood on the platform of a space station, watching the ship pass through the atmospheric containment field.
He crossed his arms as he walked toward the docking ramp.
"Hehehehehe!"
Even before the hatch was fully down, Senil's signature laugh echoed in Amir's ears. The alien only briefly glanced at Rensys before turning his eyes to Amir.
"Congratulations, Amir. A triumphant return," Senil said with a sly smile.
Amir knew better than to trust men who smiled like that.
Rensys—still unaware of what awaited him—was clearly in for a rude awakening.
Though the journey had helped Rensys recover some dignity, Senil had no intention of indulging him.
Two assassin droids raised their blaster arms, aiming at Rensys's head and motioned for him to move.
"W-What's going on?! Senil, we had an agreement—!"
In an instant, Rensys's composure evaporated. Whatever pride he had regained was gone.
Senil ignored him completely, keeping his focus on Amir.
"Don't you want to ask me something?"
"If you feel like talking, you will. If not, I'm not really interested."
"Heh, that's the Amir I know."
He paused briefly, watching Rensys be dragged away.
"What do you think of the Rebellion?"
"Some tiny group I'd never heard of. Not my place to judge," Amir said with a shrug, feeding him nonsense.
"I actually admire them," Senil said, more seriously than usual.
"Then why not join them?"
"I thought about it. But they're not ready for me yet," he said, exposing his ambition completely. "Of course, I'm not powerful enough yet either."
"Think what you like. Just don't forget to throw your brother a bone when you hit it big," Amir said as he boarded the ship.
"Well then, I hope you like your new ride. Also—we've worked together a few times now. I'd like to think of you as a friend."
"Of course. See you, Senil."
And with that, Amir ended the conversation.
The Voyager lifted off from the lonely space station and drifted into the stars.
Amir thought about Senil's squid-like face, wondering what role he might play in this galactic drama.
He didn't dislike people like Senil—but he didn't exactly trust them either.
Working with shady types like him always came down to one thing: caution. As long as you didn't get screwed over, there was always profit.
And Amir had one special talent—sensing malice.
That's the only reason he dared to take on Senil's jobs.
It's how he knew—Senil's final words weren't entirely hollow.
Inside a ship's command room, Ahsoka stood before a holoprojector.
A figure in a heavy cloak appeared—his features obscured.
"We got something unexpected this time," Ahsoka said, lifting the holorecorder.
"This device marks every abandoned Republic base, ancient ruin, even Mandalorian camps. If we sort through it properly, we could finally find a stable foothold."
"Excellent work, Ahsoka. This is a huge breakthrough. I'll send out teams to assist with the search," said the man in a deep voice.
"Uncle Bloom sacrificed himself for this... I'd almost given up, but he actually pulled it off."
She hesitated for a moment.
"If not, this would've fallen into Black Sun's hands—or the Empire's."
"Don't be too hard on yourself. I made mistakes too. That Coruscant op—I greenlit it without verifying the enemy's strength. That's on me."
"Let's not dwell. Besides—someone helped us from the shadows."
"A mystery contact?"
"Yeah. Amir stopped the prison ship for us. And the spatial disruptor he used—that's not common tech. You'd be lucky to find one in a whole fleet.
We never figured out who he is. But... I feel like he's testing us."
"I see. I'll keep an eye out for someone like that."
"Alright. Take care out there."
Ahsoka ended the call, resting one hand on her lightsaber and gripping the holorecorder tightly in the other.
A saucer-shaped freighter dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of Coruscant.
It activated optical camouflage and shut down every signal-emitting system except the engines.
The ship vanished from Imperial sensors.
With everything silent, Amir piloted the Voyager slowly toward the designated port.
He switched BD-4 back on—yes, the droid also emitted signals—and the two of them made their way toward the Mels' repair shop.
Twilight was falling over Coruscant.
Orange light spilled across the rooftops, casting a rare warmth on the steel-bound city.
Fleeting—but beautiful. This was always Amir's favorite time of day.
Especially now.
.
.
.
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