There is no such thing as chance;
and what seems to us mere accident
springs from the deepest source of destiny.
(Friedrich Von Schiller)
***
The quiet but persistent beeping of the comlink woke Grace from her sleep. With some effort, she opened her eyes and found herself in her room, staring at the smooth gray ceiling. Normal… When she tried to sit up, she encountered two obstacles. The first was a pounding headache and a dry mouth—clear evidence that last night's party at the Officers' Club had been a success. The second was none other than Sumeragi Li Noriyega herself, lying beside her with her face buried against Grace's neck and, to make matters worse, one leg draped possessively over her. Her steady, quiet breathing tickled the Zeltron's skin. Hehe… Sumeragi really let loose yesterday… Chuckling softly to herself, Grace easily came up with a couple of jokes she could play on her friend.
The comlink's insistent squeak continued, and the last traces of sleep finally faded away. A picture of the previous events began to form in her mind.
***
After they landed on Coruscant, the familiar grind of routine work began. For the first day—and almost half of the second—they were busy sending the wounded and shipping out what remained of their surviving equipment. Once the urgent matters were handled, the standard duties followed.
Ship inspections came first—Grace and Lichtendal divided this task between them. Sumeragi buried herself in paperwork, writing reports and compiling requests for ammunition, medical supplies, equipment, and everything else they were now lacking. She was assisted by Christen; mostly, as they liked to say, he was "running errands." Not because he couldn't write reports—he just did it worse than everyone else combined.
Next came a visit to the Main Personnel Office. They spent a couple of hours there, wandering through offices and endless corridors. However, in the end, the personnel colonel, grinding his teeth, was forced to acknowledge their new ranks. You couldn't argue with a piece of paper—especially one signed by a Jedi.
After that, only minor formalities remained: a visit to the nearest bank branch to withdraw part of their monetary allowance. Which, incidentally, had increased significantly. Combat bonuses hadn't been canceled, after all. Perhaps for Coruscant, those sums were probably pocket change—but elsewhere, they could live comfortably on them for an entire month.
Then came watches, duty rotations, acceptance reports, dispatch logs, and countless other obligations. Only by the end of the week did they finally manage to free themselves, more or less. All the reports were submitted, and everything was in order. So, leaving Blam in charge, the young officers allowed themselves to rest with a clear conscience.
Their "rest" took place at the Coruscant Officers' Club.
The planet housed the headquarters of the First Sectoral Army, whose primary task was the defense of Coruscant itself, along with the key worlds of this region of the Central Worlds and, in part, the Core. The Sectoral Army was commanded by Moff Dikeimus Trachta—the youngest of the twenty moffs, at only thirty-one years old.
They had plenty to celebrate: their new ranks, and the simple fact that Li Noriyega and Mirro were still alive.
The establishment where both high-ranking—and not-so-high-ranking—officers gathered occupied one of the large restaurant pavilions, located relatively close to the military complex. Together with the Sector Army headquarters, the buildings formed the vertices of an imaginary unequal-sided triangle.
Stepping out of the taxi, they found themselves on a platform before a squat structure topped with a roof of numerous intersecting domes. Passing beneath the entrance arch—no passes required; their uniforms spoke for themselves, and the scanners verified their ident-cylinders on the fly—they froze on a small balcony separated from the vast hall by a low railing. Staircases descended to the left and right.
For a moment, the group simply stood there, stunned by the sheer luxury of the place. It was, quite literally, dazzling.
"Well," Christen said at last, "shall we?"
But the moment they started down the steps, a surprised voice called out to them.
"O'Connor? Li Noriega? Guys?"
They turned toward the voice and spotted a familiar group of young people seated at a nearby table—former classmates from the Academy. The striking, green-skinned Twi'lek Ayla Tavik sat beside Ruby Chi, a melancholic human. Nearby were the Rodian Taelros Naa, along with the humans Addison Mamam and Pau-Kas Monite.
Exchanging glances, they headed over.
"Oh, wow!" Pau-Kas exclaimed. "Already lieutenants—and first lieutenants at that!
"And what are you now, still midshipmen? That won't do…"
Christen dropped into an empty chair, and the others followed suit.
"So, how did you end up here?"
"Simple. You shipped out a couple of days before us, and we got stuck at the Academy. As a result, when we finally arrived on Coruscant to be assigned to other Sector Armies, they kept us here, in the First Sector Army."
"And what do you do?"
"What do you think? Guard Coruscant," Pau-Kas shrugged. "We fly good old Judicial Department ships—patrol routes, chase smugglers. Though that last part doesn't happen often."
The Twi'lek downed another shot.
"And how's your service going?"
"Intense. We barely arrived on Lantilles before getting thrown straight into a battle. After that, we were assigned to General Vikt's command."
"A Jedi?"
"Yes."
"And how is he?"
"I don't know how he compares to others—we haven't served under anyone else—but he's an excellent commander. Everyone had their share of excitement—us and the droids alike. Cerri and I were mostly ship-side, but Sumeragi and that idiot went through Jabiim…" Grace explained.
"And what were you doing there?"
"The same thing," Christen replied evenly. "As always, I was in charge of communications, while Sumeragi commanded the entire corps headquarters. And sometimes even the corps itself..."
"What's left of it, you mean?"
"Yes," Christen agreed after a brief pause. "What was left."
"Hey… where's Melleria?" Lichtendal asked. "Melleria Sendai?"
Their former classmates exchanged uneasy looks. Addison answered at last.
"She died a week ago. A pair of raiders jumped into Anaxes orbit. Her corvette covered the transports until the very end… Reinforcements arrived too late."
"Then let's… Let's remember her."
The guys deftly poured the contents of the bottles. In silence, they raised their glasses. Soon, the company was already quite tipsy.
"Ranks… please," Ayla muttered, clearly trying to hurt Grace, her voice sharp with bitterness. "I bet she was shaking her ass in front of the general, that's why—"
They had been rivals since their very first days at the Academy.
But Li Noriega cut her off before she could finish.
"You're wrong. She didn't stand a chance."
A pause.
"Compared to me."
Everyone stared at her in shock. Sumeragi shifted awkwardly.
"It was a joke."
"Where is this galaxy headed—she's started joking…" Ruby Chi spread her arms dramatically.
Laughter erupted around the table.
"To hell with it! Let's party and drink, guys!" Christen declared.