A storm had settled over the command center: crewmembers raced from station to station, double- and triple-checking data, leaving behind only a trail of debris and a cloud of confusion. At the center of the storm, Captain Keleman Ciro was lost in thought. He looked down at the holoplaque he'd snapped of the command crew a few hours earlier. My people. My responsibility. The fleet's moved on... it's my show now.

Ciro idly wondered how long it would take to get used to the command chair when Lt. Thyte broke his reverie. "Sir, we have an incoming subspace transmission from the Kolatil system. It's a wide-spectrum signal and unscrambled -- they're sending it to everyone in range."

"Put it through, Lt. Thyte."

"This is the Kolatil Council... all New Republic forces, please send assistance immediately. After imprisoning the Imperial governor we have been attacked by TIE bombers. Domaz, our capital, is in flames. Please send emergency medical assistance."

Ciro snapped off the com in anger. How could these people not have known that they would be attacked? "Hyperdrive Operations, set course for the Kolatill system. If those navigation charts are right, it should take us about four days to get there. Lt. Thyte, signal Governor Monjai down on Kal'Shebbol and inform her of our destination."

"Yes, sir. Governor Monjai says medical rescue ships will be dispatched as soon as they are ready, but that will take at least two days."

Ciro thought to himself. Those ships are slower than we are. Two days to prepare. A Class Three hyperdrive, meaning six days in hyperspace... it may be too late by the time they get there.

Ciro toggled the internal comlink, selecting the engineering section. "Lofryyhn, this is Captain Ciro. Get your engineers going. It looks like the shakedown crew is off the schedule; we are on active-duty as of now."

Just 10 minutes later, the FarStar lept into hyperspace, beginning its mission to track down Moff Sarne.