> The New Republic's Reintegration Office issued a warning to 'Imperial hangers-on and dead-enders who continue to exercise illegitimate authority in areas outside of defined treaty borders'. In an exclusive interview, Special Magistrate Sool Sdrodt told GHN SenateBeat correspondent Tamurlayne Kesh that there would be 'zero tolerance' for former Imperial officials who refuse to relinquish power to duly elected officials.

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> Despite the strong statements from the Reintegration Office, sources speaking on background admitted that the central government lacks the military power to forcibly remove many of the Imperial holdouts. In the wake of the Disarmament Act, the New Republic must continue to rely on what were described as 'sector and planetary partners' in most areas beyond the Core and Colonies.

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> Senator Tolvik Evansis, who represents the Dufilvian Sector, has emerged as a leader of a broad Senate coalition advocating for a more aggressive military posture. Evansis held a recent press conference to decry the 'sorry state' of New Republic armed forces. 'In light of the Chancellor's disastrous policy of unilateral weakness in the face of outlawry', Evansis said chances of dislodging Imperial holdouts were 'about as likely as a monsoon on Filve'.

- Galactic HoloNews SenateBeat

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41:03:16 GrS

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Twenty-eight hours later, Taz pulled the hyperspace motivator levers to exit the Duros Space Run at a reasonable 322,000 klicks from Enarc. Hundreds of ships filled the viewport, the bright flare of their ion engines making it easier to distinguish them against the black tapestry of space. Enarc's congested traffic attested to its reputation as a trading powerhouse that sat at the confluence of three major hyperspace routes. The boggling chaos of vessels entering and leaving hyperspace left Taz wondering just what kind of astrogational hell he'd dropped into.

The proximity warning blaring over the cockpit's speakers obliterated his half-formed thought. A harried woman's voice shouted an emergency vector in his earpiece and Taz pushed the Girodyne engines to maximum thrust while he jerked on the control yoke, steering to the requested course. A second later, a gigantic Rendilli bulk transport blinked out of hyperspace right into the spot his freighter had occupied.

Taz let out a nervous laugh as the others crowded into the cockpit to see what the clamor was about.

Lyra scowled as she strapped in at her station and switched off the warning. Taz cringed, prepping himself for a dressing down.

"Sorry," she apologized, kicking herself, "I should have been here. I forgot how busy the Enarc lanes can be. Want me to take her in?"

Taz's brows twitched, the only outward sign of his surprise. "No, I'm good. I should learn how to do it myself." To her guilty look he added, "Back me up? I could use another set of eyes."

Lyra screwed up her mouth. "Stop humoring me, Oktos."

"I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing, Lyra," he assured her.

She gave him her 'sure-you-wouldn't' look and entered a comm frequency. "Enarc Orbital Control from transport Skipjack Chimera. Maybe somebody down there can do their rutting job next time and give us an approach corridor that isn't swarming with Lambda-Nine-One traffic!"

There was dead air on the channel for a few seconds until a man's voice, deep and assured, responded. "Skipjack, turn to heading three-three-zero mark seven-four planetary relative. Maintain speed under thirteen hundred MPS and hold position at forty-eight hundred meters for inspection scan. Acknowledge."

The voice raised an instant memory. It couldn't possibly be him, could it? Lyra frowned. Out the viewports she could see a pair of light cruisers on overwatch. Flights of grey TIE fighters swooped through the approach lanes amid clusters of Guardians like the kind she'd piloted, along with dozens of patrol ships, all displaying Imperial Customs markings. A few klicks farther on sat a long Strike-class medium cruiser.

"Awful lot of Imperial ships out there," Sera observed, sounding casual. Taz looked stiff and alert.

"This part of the Mid Rim was always pretty firmly under the Empire's control," Lyra observed, "and as much as you Alliance types want to believe you defeated the New Order..."

"We did. On paper, anyway." Taz peered out through the viewport. "They're sending us toward that big cruiser."

Lyra keyed her mic. "Enarc Control, how about telling me what this is about?"

"Skipjack, non-compliance will be interpreted as hostile intent." The man repeated the instructions.

Lyra uttered an angry curse. "Better do as they say."

Taz threw a concerned glance at Sera, then back to Lyra. "Are we in trouble?"

"Those TIEs aren't moving to intercept, so I think we're okay."

"I'm activating the deflectors anyway," Taz said as he steered the ship toward the indicated position.

"Alright, but don't power up the weapons. They'll think we want a fight and they'll probably give it to us."

Taz nulled out their velocity when the Chimera got within 4,800 meters of the big ship, but his thumbs rested on the throttle dials.

The man's voice came over the speaker again. "Skipjack, lower your shields for inspection scan."

Lyra flipped switches. "I've shut down the projectors but I'm keeping the generators online."

Taz closed his eyes and appeared to relax. After a moment he let out a quiet breath. "I don't sense any hostility. More like... boredom."

Lyra made a derisive noise. "At least they could pay attention if they're going to waste our time."

"Functionaries doing their jobs," Sera suggested. "Maybe this is just routine."

Scanning beams flashed across the freighter. The man called again. "Skipjack, transmit your clearance code and destination."

Lyra's last gram of patience was wearing away. Taz touched her arm and gave her a reassuring look while he keyed his comm. "Cargo delivery at Kiriolis Dal. Transmitting clearance code now."

"Receiving your transmission, Skipjack." Then after a few seconds: "Your code checks out. You're assigned to Enarc approach nine-eight-two for Kiriolis Dal terminal N, pad two-four. Acknowledge."

Taz repeated the instructions. With a brief glance at Lyra he began the descent toward the big world. Only a crescent of its brown and green surface reflected the light from its bluish primary. They entered the atmosphere on a westward prograde approach, diving through thick clouds and buffeting winds along the descent path.

Eventually they left the weather system behind for clearer skies. Rising from a tableau of bedrock that had once hosted orange-crested burlash forests hundreds of meters tall, Kiriolis Dal's megacity looked like a stack of enormous cogs, each a little smaller than the one below and dotted with innumerable windows. Starting from a base that covered over two thousand square kilometers, the trade hub rose nearly 8,000 meters into Enarc's pale blue-green afternoon. Lanes of air cars, buses and taxis, long cargo haulers, and passenger trams by the thousands formed a moving lattice of traffic around the city.

Molecules flared into colorful plasma against the Chimera's shields as they descended through the clear atmosphere. Memories flooded Lyra's thoughts. How often did I drop just like this in the trainers?

Taz slowed the ship with repulsors until they were barely supersonic, marveling at the sheer number of vehicles crowding the sky around them. Their tiny ship was only one of hundreds carving white contrails through the air as they descended. He let out a whistle. "This has to be the busiest place I've seen in the Mid."

Lyra frowned despite his enthusiasm. "Back in the Core they barely take notice of places like Enarc, or the rest of the Rim for that matter." More remembrances arose—bitter ones. "You know what the Admiralty Board told me when I got passed over for a command posting for the fourth time? 'Rimmers take orders, Nimor, they don't give them!'." She let out a harsh sound. "Slugs from the Core who couldn't fly their way out of a silk purse had their pick of commands. Us sector academy grads never even got a shot." She folded her arms and grumbled to herself.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"I'm sorry," Taz gently offered. "She's no Customs cruiser but the Chimera's ours."

"Yeah, and I pretty much let you run the show on Allegra." Sera drawled.

The pilot threw a mock scowl at Sera. Stow the self-pity, Lyra. "I know. I appreciate what I have, believe me."

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Cargo terminal N was nearly three kilometers up the massive tapering metrolith on the north side of Ring 548. Skinny ramps extended from the ring's toothy periphery, expanding into rectangular landing pads sized for everything from single-seat airspeeders to million-ton bulk freighters. Taz guided his ship inside the black and yellow-striped zone marked on the sixty-meter slab of reinforced duracrete.

As he shut down the engines, a small group of people emerged from the cargo terminal. They walked out onto the ramp, striding between the black safety rails with their stalks of tall blue lights spaced every few meters. The man leading the group had close-cropped gray hair that capped off an immaculate Customs uniform.

Lyra's eyes went wide. I don't believe it. Unexpected excitement mingled with surprise. What is he doing here? She twisted the latching knob on her restraint harness and hurried out of the cockpit.

Lyra heard the others following close behind as she slapped the button to lower the boarding ramp. She rode a laser beam toward the Customs officials, bracing herself against the wind swirling around the high platform. Below them, four huge container transports broke formation with their armed Zephyr Combine escorts and floated toward cargo transfer pads. The whine of their repulsors was nearly deafening, but they fell substantially in pitch as the fat triangular freight haulers settled beside their assigned pads.

The man's rank plaque displayed a commander's blue and red squares. Two serious-looking ensigns, a man and woman, came behind him. The commander stopped before Lyra, pursed his lips for a moment, then said, "Good afternoon and welcome to Kiriolis Dal. Cadet Nimor, isn't it? Although I suppose Ensign is more appropriate, or perhaps former ensign."

Lyra grinned for an instant. "I'm surprised you remember me, Commandant." She extended her hand and he shook it.

"I remember all of my cadets, Nimor, though few enough stood out with hairstyles that barely complied with academy regulations, to say nothing of truculent attitudes."

"Yes sir," Lyra touched the scarlet streak self-consciously and made a point of ignoring his jibe. He'd never been one to hold back, and neither had she. "Was it you on the comm, sir?"

"Indeed. Didn't you recognize my voice? Yours was quite clearly identifiable."

"Yes sir, you did sound familiar."

Taz watched their interchange with interest. After a respectful interval, he cleared his throat.

Lyra had almost forgotten they were there. "Sorry. Sera Rendix, Reiko Hudson, Taz Oktos, this is Commandant Brenn Endeel of the Alui Sector Service Academy."

"And?" Endeel prompted, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands tucked behind his back.

Lyra screwed up her mouth. Pedantic to a fault. "And my flight instructor."

"Quite right," the man confirmed with a sharp nod. "As I recall, you scored six hundred seventy-four on your hyperspace mechanics final and eight hundred ninety-six on your pilot test. Respectable, if not particularly noteworthy."

"I graduated in the top twenty percent of my class," she averred, as much to Taz and the girls as to him.

"Seventy-third out of four hundred fifty. As I said, respectable," he answered with absolute surety. "Is this your ship, Nimor?"

"Yes sir. Ours," she added, indicating Taz. Saying it brought some warmth along with the renewed disquiet she'd been feeling.

"A Customs officer worth her rating shouldn't be operating a vessel with an expired registration."

"Expired?" Taz challenged before she could reply. He took a step forward. "There's been some kind of mistake, Commander."

"Imperial Customs doesn't make mistakes, Mr. Oktos."

The corner of Taz's mouth lifted in a wry grin. "I'm sure they didn't when that organization existed," he returned and took the datapad from his thigh pocket. He brought up the BoSS registration and extended it toward Endeel. "See? I changed her name a few days ago when we bought her at Ansible Free Station, but the registration's current."

The stiff-looking officer peered at the display for a long second, then handed it to one of the ensigns beside him. The woman scrutinized the data, tapped through a few screens, then handed the pad back to Taz. "Everything appears to be in order, sir. Probably a delay in the local node receiving updates from BoSS's central database."

"Very good, Ensign," said the man, as impassive as a slab of permacrete.

Lyra thumbed toward the sky. "Is that what the inspection was all about?" She scowled at her former CO. "You could have just said so instead of jerking us around up there, Commandant." When she was in the service she'd relished the sense of order that came from strictly executing inspections of commercial traffic. Now that I'm on the receiving end...

"I see your supercilious attitude is little improved, Nimor. I warned you it might hold you back."

Lyra started to snap a retort but a glance from Taz gave her pause. She took an extra breath. "My attitude wouldn't be an issue if you'd answered the question. I'm not some tramp pilot who stumbled her way through a correspondence course, or a midshipman you can intimidate, or a subordinate you can order around." She glanced at the other two officers. "No offense." They probably weren't older than twenty. She'd been like them once—young, eager to serve and to please her superiors. Naïve. She locked eyes with Endeel. "So?"

"Hmph." Endeel looked unmoved. "Your vessel doesn't match any known configuration and your registration was... unavailable. Given the circumstances, I determined your ship merited further scrutiny."

"Next time just say that, then." She had to work to keep the snark out of her voice.

Before Endeel could issue the rejoinder he was forming, Taz interjected, "The Chimera's an experimental model that never got past the prototype stage as far as we know. She's one of a kind you might say. Just like her pilot, Commander," he added with his most winning smile. "It's easy to see why her records might have been out of date." Taz flashed an imploring look at Lyra.

Lyra took a breath and moderated her tone. "What are you doing at Enarc Approach Control, sir? Did you get tired of torturing hapless students?"

"Times change, Cadet."

She tried even harder to keep her tone non-confrontational. "I'm not a cadet anymore, Commander Endeel."

"Quite so." After a moment he stated, "The academy closed nearly a year ago. I was reassigned."

Lyra's face was impassive but the regret she suddenly felt was deeper and more painful than she'd expected. She'd never been happy at the sprawling sector academy campus, but it had been a home of sorts. And for all his cajoling, humorless instruction, Endeel had been a solid teacher. Besides, he'd never struck her as particularly ideological.

Why would they waste the talents of a man like him directing traffic and conducting inspections? "We've all had to make adjustments, sir, after the war."

"Indeed, Nimor. You appear to have done just that."

Lyra glanced at the others. "My crewmates and I are... finding our way, sir."

"I expect you are, Nimor. You always struck me as one who'd make the best of her situation."

"Yes sir."

Endeel pressed his thin lips together, making his grey regulation mustache twitch. "Your cargo?"

"Bulk ceraglass, sixty tons." She spied the scanning techs lurking in the shadow of the terminal entry along with an armed security element. "Inspect it if you'd like."

Endeel declined with a raised hand. "That won't be necessary. The orbital scan was sufficient and I think I've taken enough of your time. If you'll excuse me."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

"Welcome back to Enarc, Cadet—Miss Nimor." Endeel came to attention for just a moment, acknowledged the rest of them with a nod, then turned smartly on his heel and strode away, his juniors trailing neatly behind him.

Did he just salute me? Lyra watched him disappear into the terminal. Her chest felt unaccountably tight. "Damn this wind," she mumbled, blinking away the moisture in her eyes. All those years of service. He deserves better. We all do.

"Amazing that he remembered you," Reiko commented, breaking her out of her reverie.

"We used to call him 'End-of-the-line Endeel' because he washed out so many cadets. He was a legend at the academy long before I got there. Rumor among the middies was that he could recall the record of every student who'd ever taken one of his classes. Guess the legend was true."

"Eight hundred ninety on your pilot exam, was it?" Sera mentioned.

"Eight hundred ninety-six," Lyra corrected.

"Respectable, if not noteworthy," she jabbed, looking devious. "That explains a lot, actually."

"Shut up, Rendix," Lyra countered, elbowing the other woman. "Just remember who's teaching you to fly."

That drew a chuckle from Reiko. "She's got you there, Sera-sha."

"You okay?" Taz broke in, throwing an amused wink at Sera. "About the academy closing, I mean."

Lyra felt far away. A lot of her time there was a haze but a few memories stood in stark relief, undimmed by the passage of the years. "Things change, like Endeel said." She banished her melancholy with a head shake. "Let's go, Oktos. We need to contact the buyer. That cargo won't transfer itself, you know."

"Yes ma'am, Cadet Nimor," Taz teased and started back toward Skipjack Chimera with her.

When he touched Lyra's hand she took it readily and held on. It felt good, his palm pressed against hers, his fingers wrapping hers. Some things change for the better.

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Reiko sat at the technical station outside the Chimera's engineering compartment, pushing her cold dinner around her plate. After a minute she put it aside and began tapping at the controls. She scrolled through page after page of data, then stopped when some readings from the power converters caught her eye. "What have we here?" she commented absently, fingers working the controls. She tapped a line of data on the screen that indicated an intermittent power spike. "I've seen you somewhere else..." Reiko ran a search and, after a few seconds, she found a clear pattern in the data. "Where's that power going?" On another display she brought up the logs from the distribution buses and started to review them.

"Hi, Rei-sha."

Reiko looked over her shoulder. Sera leaned against the chunky bulkhead separating them from the reactors and power converters. Instead of her customary spacer's gear, she'd changed into an iridescent green frock that fell to mid-thigh and was sheer enough to hint at the darker bodystocking underneath. Her fiery, shoulder-length hair was swept to one side, shaved close on the other, and she wore black boots over her knees. "Goddess, you look good!"

"Thanks. I really love it, and I love that you bought it for me, Rei-sha."

"Did you dress up just for me?"

"Mm hmm. Lyra told me about a place with music and dancing, three rings down. Thought we could have an evening out."

Reiko affected a pout with her small mouth. "I was going to work on this data, but..." her face lit up, "dancing sounds like a lot more fun!" She tapped a quick note for Yuzu. "Are Lyra and Taz coming?"

"Nah, let the lovebirds find their own entertainment." She leaned over the panel to take Rei's hand, her green eyes smoldering in the subdued light. "I want you all to myself."

The way Sera said it made her shiver with delight. "I'll go get changed!"

Sera gave her a big kiss. "That's my girl."