Harry Potter x Star Wars (3rd Story)

Synopsis: Harry Potter, the immortal and extremely powerful Master of Death, has spent the better part of the last years expanding his education in the muggle and arcane arts, and has grown far apart from the wizarding world. He seeks freedom from the pains of life, and has utilized the mastery over magic he's gained from his decades of study to prepare himself for a journey through space, and unknowingly time, to explore the greatest unknown: Space…the Final Frontier.

This story will either contain active Slash, or passive references to SS Couples, or perhaps have an OC of same gendered attraction mentioned in a supporting role.

There is heavy cursing in this drabble, and it's purely meant to be a Crac-fic/Parody of the Slash Genre.

Please don't think this is a serious attempt at writing a SS Couple. I just wanted to write something completely silly for a change.

Chapter Setting: Earth, Approx. 2018; SW Galaxy Approx. 20 BBY

Characters: Harry Potter, Star Wars, O/C.

Disclaimer: No profit is sought, or accepted, in the publication of this fanfiction. It is purely being written and shared for enjoyment; no remunerations are accepted or expected by the author. All right, privileges, and copyrights belong to their respective holders/owners. I freely admit to having been on a Harry Potter x Star Wars kick the last few months, and will try to give special thanks to authors who inspired me on my bio page. Until then, however, if you see something similar too another author of this genre, please point it out to me and I will check my notes as to whether or not I could have accidentally modeled my characters, names, places, events after another.

This story is without a Beta; I am open to receiving a Beta. :-)

Please enjoy and review with your comments, critiques.

Chapter 01. The Happening

"Master is doing it again," Kreacher, looking much younger and healthier said as he sat Harry's lunch down. He was greeted by the sound of a chisel on stone as Harry hummed off key, badly, to a rap song he'd been introduced to recently as he continued on carving the runes necessary for the ward stone which would power the ritual he was planning to undertake soon.

"Kreacher was just speaking with Mipsy," he continued as though he'd received a response, "you remember Mipsy Master Potter, she be the House Elf for Mister Thomas, and she be saying that he be leaving his hoodlum shirt after you twos returned from match recently."

"It's a jersey Kreacher," Harry said without looking up. "The Hoodlums are the ones that cause fights after getting drunk; they could be wearing anything," he said taking particular care to cautiously etch the final series of runes in the last cluster he had to work on before the tablet could start absorbing passive magic from the ley lines in the field they'd set up in.

"There be lots of blood on both yous every time after these matches Master; Kreacher be right," he said with a firm nod of his head. "All footballzers be hooligans."

"Don't tell that to Dean or he'll box your ears old man," Harry said with a smirk.

"If Master Dean be doing that, Kreacher be hiding all the lube."

Harry looked up dumbfounded.

"You're not that evil you old bastard," he said slightly blushing, as he didn't know Kreacher knew why Dean came over so often.

"Kreacher be an old bastard, Master, but Kreacher can be merciful; now come eat before Kreacher let's slip to Nancy Poncy Poofter Malfoy that the focus of his asphyxiation fantasies be wasting away."

Harry gaped like a fish out of water…opening and closing his mouth with no sound coming as his brain refused to process what he'd just heard.

"How….hwa….." he tried.

A few more seconds passed.

"Draco isn't gay Kreacher; and how would you even know if he was!"

"Kreacher knows he isn't; I just be wanting to see you make that face," the old elf cackled before banishing the tools in Harry's hands to his tool box and magicing Harry into his chair to have dinner.

"Don't be that evil Kreacher! You almost put me off my food."

"Eat up and don't bitch," the elf said before he popped away.

"Cheeky bastard," Harry mumbled as he tucked in to the amazing food.

****Sometime Later****

Another match between the bad team, and Harry's team had just concluded, as he and Dean portkeyed back into the remote little area of Wales that Harry had set up camp in to prepare the ritual.

"FOOK McGregor!" a highly drunk Dean practically howled to the air goading the opposing team's star player that would never hear him.

"He only scored once," Harry, equally drunk, said in defense of the Italian transplant.

"You're just saying that cause he looks good in shorty shorts," Dean slurred with a sultry smirk.

Harry, reading the situation, smirked back as sexily as a drunk could at 0330. That is to say, he gave a Cheshire grin, and began fumbling with his shoes.

"Let's get to the tent mate," Dean said as seductively as possible before belching a flame left over from too much whiskey.

"Mr. Thomas, your mating call is ever so seductive," Harry said tripping over his own feet to enter his portable home away from home.

The two engaged in heavy petting the likes of which could only be accurately portrayed as having come from a repressed teenage queen in the Bible Belt, making noise of supposed passion, angst, and grunts of universal male expression; the topic was arousal, and both linguists were conveying their best Shakespeare with body language and gesticulation.

"Dean!" Harry said knocking over several items in the semi dark room.

"Harry!" Dean responded, rushing to him and breaking a heirloom vase in the process.

"Shutting the Fuck UP!" Kreacher said popping into existence and forcing the two men apart in the living room.

The two were startled by the sudden arrival and outburst of the diminutive elf, and were stunned to take in his appearance. Kreacher was wearing nothing more that pink fuzzy slippers, a teal green satin bath robe, charcoal face mask, hair curlers, and a hair net with a sleep mask sitting atop his head while he pounded a melon baller in his palm…Kreacher was a sight to behold.

"Two years Kreacher be putting up with yous twos bullshit, and it be ending tonight," he said raising the melon baller and pointing it at both men. "Yous either bes going steady and fucking in the privacy of yous bedroom, or so help Kreacher by the heads of the saints, yous be loosing yous eyes because Kreacher be scooping them out and feeding them to yous asses!"

"Whaaa…." Dean started, only to stop when Kreacher pointed the melon baller at him.

"Yous be making commitment to Master Harry now, or Kreacher be banishing you to the 5th Dimension with all the garbage and shit elves be cleaning," he said with conviction.

"Kreacher be tired of all the cleaning he has to do because yous two only brave enough to be playing sexy time when yous be drunk!"

"And you," he said rounding on Harry, "yous be committing to Master Dean and treating him right or else Kreacher dispose of all yous sex toys, pornos, and delete yous saved passwords!"

The two were too stunned to say anything as their drunk minds continued to try and process what was happening.

"Dating openlys, be good for you both, but Kreacher be sick and tired of getting woken up because you twos be too chicken shit to date like normal poofters and have to be drunk before you be fucking. Kreacher be working too hard, too long, and be a liberated Elf now thanks to overlord she-who-must-not-be-spoken-of, and Kreacher calling Master on his Bullshit; everyone be knowing you be choking on cock and feeding it as good as you get it to Master Dean, as often as he be over. Grow up, and get to bed. Yous two can do the nasty during daylight when Kreacher not able to overhear in the sanctity of yous own silenced 2room."

The elf popped away in a huff, leaving the stunned, slightly sobered, men behind.

The two sat on the couch, holding hands, and not in fear…because being frightened by a house elf was crazy…right?

Finally, Harry spoke.

"Do you think he's right?"

"Nah," Dean said, "there's no such thing as the 5th Dimension. Everyone knows the garbage is sent to a massive facility in the Somalia…it's where all those kids on TV get their garbage."

"Not that you racist ass," Harry said smacking Dean upside his head.

"Oi!" Dean said in pain rubbing the back of his close cropped head, "how can I be racist man? I'm bloody black aren't I?"

"Yeah, but that's still a racist and stupid thing to say," Harry said as he straddled Dean on the couch. "But, do you think Kreacher was right about us. I have a lot of fun with you when I'm drunk Dean…god knows it was more fun than I ever had with Hermione, Ginny, or any of the woman who gifted me with a handy or a ride on their throatacoster…but you make me feel complete. We're nearly 40 man; aren't you tired of partying? Aren't you ready to settle down?"

Dean took on a serious look as he, wide eyed, took in Harry perched as he was, and he beat back the beast below as he tried to coherently answer.

"I like you," he said with seriousness and a smile as he devoured Harry with a kiss.

"I think I can live with that for now," Harry said as he continued disrobing.

"GET OFF MY NEW MICROFIBER ASHLEY RECLINING AND ROCKING SOFA AND GET INTO YOUS ROOM NOW," Kreacher yelled so loudly that Dean screamed in fright and threw Harry off of him into the floor as the two franticly tried to collect themselves and race to the master suit.

"EYE BALLS BE IN YOUS ASSES!" he screamed after them.

"AND YOUS BETTER BE USING CONDOMS, CAUSE KREACHER NOT BE CLEANING YOUS NAST LOVE NEST NO MORE! KREACHER BE DONE WITH FUCKING SANTORUM!" he screamed as he popped away after the two had made a hasty retreat to the sanctity, and safety, of the master bedroom.

***Sometime Later; Possibly (a) Year(s) Later*****

Harry and Dean had been together for sometime now, and had recently married following the old form of hand fastening the Wizarding World engaged in, along with a Christian Marriage in New York City, where Dean's Parents had retired.

Harry had finalized the preparations for his ritual, and Dean was keen to join him on their Journey to the stars.

As the two finished shrinking and packing the last of their supplies and belongings into the specially designed trunk(s) and bag(s) that they'd definitely not used illegal charms on to have practically infinite storage space in, the two, plus Kreacher and a few other elves bound to them, donned their environmental pressure suits, boarded the magical space craft Harry had spent years building, and opened the portal to their next adventure.

As the special rift opened that would take the two into space, Harry wouldn't likely realize he'd neglected to calculate for LOCATION and TIME in his runic carvings.

Instead of appearing somewhere near the Moon Titan, where he'd hoped to set up a prospective colony and test the capabilities of the specially designed floo he'd made for inter planetary communication, the happy travelers would not be arriving on Titan.

They would be winding up very far away, a long time ago, in a completely foreign galaxy.

***SCENE CHANGE; Mustafar, Bellum Galaxy (Star Wars) 20 BBY***

"You are to take three DH-Omni Support Vessels which we've outfitted with the necessary support equipment, droids, and craft to secure a new shadow base of operations in somewhere in the unknown regions Muniff," the Neimoidian said handing over a data pad to the young human Admiral sent to him by the Banking Clan and shadow council of the Seperatists.

"Aye Sir," Admiral Gorm replied. "What will my escort craft be?"

"We have spared you three 'damaged' Lucrehulk Droid Ships, along with 10 of their civilian counterparts we've managed to scrub from the records of active service, along with their full compliment of crew, and ten 'scuttled' Recusant Class destroyers Admiral. You shall be the only organic crewman, apart from a few maintenance crew we've placed in carbonite to ensure the secrecy of the route you're taking, we will be sending on this mission. It is imperative that this remain completely black ops. There are those within the CIS leadership that distrust the Jedi and find it too….convenient…that Master Dooku appeared as he did to lead the charge of freedom."

"I see," the Admiral said as the two moved through the off records hanger bays on the southern pole of Mustafar that housed the massive transports that would be taking, his carbonite crew he observed being loaded, and the supplies he and they would need to farm and survive long term; all in all it seemed to him to be a well rounded expeditionary force, if he had doubts as to its necessity.

"I don't believe you do," the Neimoidian began, "but it doesn't matter that you do…you are merely an insurance policy that our revenge will be felt should the Jedi once again betray the Outer Rim," he said taking another pad from his robe and passing it to the Admiral.

"You will find the better of one billion Delta-4, mini, secure coms probes stored in DH-O 87556, Grievous' Chariot, Admiral and you are to exit hyperspace at regular intervals to lay the groundwork for a secure connection that will transmit the Code Black failsafe protocols to you and inform you of either our betrayal or defeat in the event such happens."

"Also," the minister continued coming into the Admiral's personal space, "you will find the plans for advanced weaponry and ship designs we have included here, which we have maintained no other record of. A full one-third of your engineers we've sent are purely to serve as architects of war and the machines which make it possible. You are to fully test these designs, to improve on them, and are to fully execute the revenge protocol we've included if the worst should happen."

The trade minister backed away and the two continued on to the nearest transport.

The continued on in silence for some time, until the minister turned and gave the stern looking young man and appraising look as they had reached the Admirals transport to be taken to his fleet which was secretly awaiting him in a sector of space close to the unknown regions.

"I was not happy they chose one so young as yourself Admiral, but I have been given assurances that you are committed to the cause of the Confederacy and that you are loyal to the people of the Outer Rim above all else. I find trouble trusting in humans if I'm to be honest Admiral; I've too often seen the plague your species can be. Do not fail us, and do not betray this trust you've been granted. Only pain and anguish would await you if my ire should rise," the minister said as his eyes briefly took on a sickly yellow tinge.

"Minister, I serve the Confederacy as it is my home of choice, away from the corruption of the Republic, and the evil of the Jedi. I will serve loyally. Now if you will excuse me, my transport awaits," he said taking the last pad from the Minister, boarding his transport shuttle and ventured forth on what was likely the last mission of his short life.

****Sometime Later****

Admiral Gorm went through the preflight checklist with his command staff of droids as he had countless other times, but unlike in years past he was now receiving detailed reports on the contents of his ship that were designed to support the war effort, and not directly engage in it.

"DH-O 7445, Flying Swan, contains 5,000 mining probes, 37,000 construction bots, and the prefab necessities for a Class 1 droid production factory," one of the Command Staff Lieutenant Grade B-1s reported in its high pitched voice.

"This is in addition to the necessities for Spacedocks the CIS have included spread across three of the Lucrehulks Sir," another chimed in.

"What will our production capabilities be once we're set up," Gorm asked of those assembled.

"Sir," a Super Tactical Droid began, "we will have the same capabilities of production and manufacture as the CIS as far as war time, or civil, production is concerned.

"What's your designation?" the Admiral asked.

"TS-S956J6," came the surprisingly cultured reply in basic.

"Alright S9, have we got any leads on where we need to go in the Unknown Regions?" he said lightly tapping his finger on the conference desk before him.

"CIS Intelligence has provided us with a star map which is believed to be an ancient smugglers route during the time of the Infinite Empire, which leads to Galactic Grid D-12," S9 began as the lights dimmed and a hologram took shape showing their planned route to their new home in the unknown regions.

"We will be making approximately 1,397 course corrections during our trip to the tentatively named planet of 'Zi-al' where probes indicate that there lies an abundance of natural resources ripe for the picking. Data indicates it has a climate similar to Naboo, and will serve as a perfect base of operations to allow for even your organic and biological needs," S9 finished.

"How long will we be traveling in Hyperspace, and what is the total mission time before we reach Zi-al," the Admiral asked.

"We will be traveling for a total of three months, 15 days, 16 hours, 45 minutes, and 32 seconds in Hyperspace Admiral, with a total estimated mission time, accounting for refueling at regular intervals using only the stores in the Supply Tanker, of one year, 6 months travel time."

"So I'll be spending 18 months with you and the other inmates," the Admiral replied. "What other droids will we be able to produce once we arrive on Zi-al?"

"We will have the full production capabilities of the Trade Federation Sir," came the reply of a previously silent high pitched B-11 Lieutenant. "We will have the means to make all manner of civilian and military goods once we have the necessary resources."

"Very good then; please wake the Chief Engineer and the remainder of the organic crew once we are underway, and have made he 104th course correction," the Admiral continued. "I want all our organic staff on standby should any of our vessels need oversight or maintenance. It will be too late to wake them once we need them."

"But Sir! Our orders are to wake them only upon reaching Zi-al," came a reply.

Admiral Gorm took on a stern look as he growled a bit in replying, "I am the Supreme Commander of this Mission, and I have the absolute authority in how we will achieve this objective Lieutenant. You will carry out my orders, to the best of your ability, to achieve the goal I prescribe or I will scrap you and replace you with a unit which can follow simple orders."

There was a slight mechanical wine from the vocalizer of the B-1 which had spoken up.

"Do I make myself and my positions clear Gentlemen," he asked looking around at the droids.

"Roger! Roger! Roger! Roger!" the B-1s all began repeating.

"Affirmative Admiral," came the voice of S9.

"S9 I'm giving you a field promotion to the Rank of Commodore. You will be my second in command as of now, and I am personally tasking you with the planning and coordination of the travel route along our way. You will be given command of this fleet in my absence, and full authority to carry out my orders in my absence."

The Admiral removed one of the classified pads he'd been given before skimming though it briefly.

"I am going to be in my ready room off the Command Bridge S9; please see to the organization of shift rotations and regular security patrols on every vessel. I want us on high alert and in a steady routine of awareness prior to entering the unknown regions. Once you've finished organizing the crew and we are underway, please join me for a briefing on mission specifics that are classified."

"Aye-Aye Sir," came the reply of S9.

"You all know what we're here for, and what is expected of us. Commodore, take us out," Admiral Gorm said dismissing the meeting and making his way to the command bridge of his Lucrehulk, the Forge of Fury.

And so the clandestine fleet made its way into hyperspace, and into the first of a series of maneuvers that would hopefully take them to the realm where they may complete their mission.

****Zi-al, post-arrival of the Revenant Fleet, approximately June, 19 BBY****

The Revenant Fleet had made its way without incident to Zi-al and had set up the foundations of a massive production facility, covering nearly the entirety of a small subcontinent in an arid mineral rich portion of the Naboo-like planet.

Already the first lines for the production of specialized worker droids was completed and nearly 100 PK-Series droids per hour for an initial run of 3 million, along with 3 million various power droids, protocol droids, astromech droids, security droids, and the like which would have a more civilian function before the main lines started producing tanks, transport/carrier ships, and the components of war that would be necessary to fill the battle ships to come from the orbital shipyards.

Admiral Gorm's temporary office was a prefab command post that the droids had assembled for him on a cliff overlooking one of the massive oceans of Zi-al with beach access down a set of carved stairs that were presently being tended to by a few PK droids cleaning them of the debris left by a recent storm.

The remaining organics had been set up further inland with their own walled compound for the beginnings of a small village forming with various farms, orchards, and food production facilities included in the outer-most ring of the settlement.

Gorm looked over a the morning's reports on the status of the shipyards in orbit, and was pleased to see that they were completely set up and functional. He was further pleased to see that the keel had already been laid on the first Subjugator of the reserve fleets he'd been ordered to oversee the creation of.

"Incoming Data Transmission from the CIS Sir," one of Gorm's B-1 aids said.

"Put it through to my pad," he replied with a frown.

***-***-***-***-*** Priority Message: Lvl: 001 ***-***-***-***-***

Classification: Utmost Secret

From: Trade Federation (TF) Delta 01

Re: Expansion of Production Necessity

Republic forces have managed to take and hold onto the production facilities of Geonosis; we have need of your facilities to immediately begin the production of Maintenance Droids, Astromechs, and B-1s (V. 4.37) the programming and spec for which for each is contained herein.

These droids are to be delivered in bulk to Rattatak along the route enclosed with this transmission. We expect not less than 1 million of each unit per shipment. Your quota for this production run will be 20 million of each unit per quarter.

You will be solely vested with the command over-ride of the units you produce, and the code for this has been included in this transmission.

The Federation cannot risk our soldiers shutting down because have lost the facility from which they originated.

These numbers are to be produced in addition to the 100 Billion Droid Reserve contained in your initial Orders for the Black Fleet.

We have sent along an additional convoy of 100 black ops Lucrehulks that will bringing your ship production yards up to par so that you will have a spacedock-drydock line for each class of ship ordered.

You are to immediately commission the creation of 5,000, each, of the additional support craft we need which are specified herein to be sent to the enclosed coordinates near the Rattatak system.

Transponders are to be set to frequency….

The message continued for some length specifying each type of support craft, ranging from troop transport, starfighters, supply frigate, to capital ship.

Strangely enough there was also an order to produce nearly a million luxury personal spacecraft of similar design to that of the personal yacht afforded to the Royalty of Naboo.

****Zi-al, approximately September, 19 BBY (End of Clone Wars)****

Production had increased to include massive factories in the asteroid belts throughout the Zi-al System, making billions of each type of battle droid per year, and capitol ship production now existed at the Mistrada Asteroid Field which encircled the Zi-al System with over 500 drydocks, with each moon bearing atmosphere in the System converted to the production of necessary supplies for the war effort.

An artificial ring now encircled Zi-al of drydocks focused solely on building Subjugator and Lucrehulks.

Admiral Gorm had given the order for the raw materials used to feed the molecular funraces be mined from the asteroid belt and inhospitable planets of the system, and had deployed untold millions of reconnaissance droids to nearby systems to completely map and scout the Zi-al Sector. Estimates so far were that there were over a billion resource rich worlds that would be within operational distances from which he could mine the ores and minerals necessary to fulfill his mission.

He'd just signed off on S9's request to build over 300 Planetary Defense Platforms per hemisphere for Zi-al along with the implementation of a secure planetary shield with no more than 5 points of entry. Estimates were that it would only take 18 months to complete both objectives, with negligible drain from the easily replenishable resources of droids Gorm had at his disposal.

"S9," Gorm called into his desk mounted com unit.

"Yes Sir, go ahead."

"I'd like you to get the engineers together and go over these specs you've given me on the Alderaan Planetary Defense Cannon. I'd like to see the feasibility of it being installed the 3rd moon of Zi-al 3 as an early warning station and point defense for the system."

"Noted Sir, would you also like me to…" S9 trailed off as an alarm immediately began blaring and black lights began to shine throughout the facility signaling the long awaited Code Black had been activated.

"Signal all departing ships on route to Rattatak and those in formation there to return immediately. Start the execution of the Isolation Protocols S9 while I verify the signal; I'll be in the Situation Room if you'd assemble the staff for me. Let's move! This is not a drill."

S9 made no comment and ended the communication as he began issuing thousands of orders simultaneously through the droid coms net activating their programming for Code Black, and sending messages to their assets at Rattatak to return.

A one time data burst was sent to a pre-ordered location which contained a star map to take high-level loyalists and VIP personnel, who would otherwise face death at the hands of the Republic, to Rattatak for emergency extraction.

"Admiral! I've received double confirmation, this is legitimate," Senior Engineer Maz Routine said barging into the Admiral's suite as the two made hurriedly made their way to the Admiral's situation room.

"I know Maz. I received the proper codes and counter signs while at my desk. Gather the others and have them come to the Situation Room as we will likely need their input on operations going forward; I didn't expect we'd have to enact the Black Protocols this soon."

"I will Ron. I'll join you after I've made contact with the others."

"See that you do," Gorm said as he continued on his way to the Situation Room.

The flurry of activity would overtake the facility, and all other Zi-al facilities, as assets sent to serve on the front returned to become part of the fleet which would one day grow to attack those which had caused the losses of the CIS.

As Ron entered his situation Room a rarely used connection to the Galactic Holonet was live on the view screen before him, taking up much of the far wall, showing report after report of the death of Count Dooku, the destruction of the Malevolence the Invisible Hand and the Death of General Grievous.

"It's the death of the Confederacy; it will mean the end of our freedom," one of the senior special engineers who'd made it to the Situation Room before Ron began.

"No," he replied. "This is merely the start of our Revenge."

***Order 66 Carried Out***

***SCENE CHANGE***

"Harry luv, this pressure gauge is starting to spike! I don't know if we can take much more….we need to stop this train sooner rather than later," Dean said with some panic tinging his voice as he read the dials, gauges, and monitors on the little 'ship' Harry had designed for use with the ritual he'd been planning for so long.

"Just a few more seconds and then the magical sinks will have completely emptied and we'll come out of the void," Harry replied with excitement as creaks, groans, and other sounds began to emanate rom the superstructure of their cockpit.

"We might not have a few more seconds Harry!"

Harry was going to reply before suddenly streaks of light overtook their vision, as the ship materialized in front of a planet alien to them both, with a large metal ring circling it, and a massive number of absolutely gigantic ships amassing at various points throughout the system.

"Holy Shit!" Harry exclaimed!

"That's not the Bleedin Moon Harry!" Dean said. "We were supposed to be kipping up to the moon and back for a trial run. What in the Fuck is that," he asked in panic as they passed an orbital defense platform that suddenly came to life and started trailing their wake.

The communications system Harry had cobbled together suddenly sprang to life, and a series of unfamiliar, high pitched, sounds assaulted the duo.

"Adjusting for translation charms," Dean said twisting a few dials as the two could suddenly understand what was being said.

"Unknown Vessel you are trespassing upon the Sovereign Territory of the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Zi-al Conglomerate. Come to heading 459 by 667 by 3 Delta Charlie and prepare to be boarded. This is a secured system. Live Fire has been authorized. Acknowledge. Over."

Harry and Dean shared a look before Harry shrugged.

"Just my damn luck," he mumbled as he flipped a few switches and opened a comline which would allow the free flow of communication between Zi-al and the SS Hedwig Reborn.

"Hello, this is the SS Headwig Reborn. We are a privately funded exploratory vessel and have strayed far off course. We have suffered damage during our flight and are requesting assistance in repairs. My steering controls have gone out," Harry said as he turned the wheel which would activate the thrusters mounted on the various fins of the ship to no noticeable change, "and we are presently adrift. I am going to disengage our engines. We will require a tow planet side to make repairs."

There was silence for a few moments. As the duo were sitting in silence, their ship shifted and they were suddenly able to make out the shape of a massive doughnut with a chunk missing coming toward them.

Static blared from the internal speakers before the voice returned.

"Hedwig Reborn, you are to hold position where the Lucrehulk Grievous' Fury will take you into its hold and bring you through the planetary shield whereupon you and your ship will be detained pending a formal investigation by the Reformed CIS Intelligence Service. You are commanded to disarm all weapons and present yourself to arrest, unarmed and without struggle. Failure to comply will result in your termination. ETA of your transport is 35 minutes. Zi-al Security out."

"Well then," Dean began, "we've got at least 30 minutes to gather everything into our mokeskins."

"That'll take all of three minutes with the packing spells," Harry said with a suggestive wink.

"Then get to packing and meet me in the boudoir Mr. Potter!"

"Yes Sir Captain Thomas-Potter! Arrr," Harry said with a chuckle as the two started packing all of their resources onboard into their respective mokeskin pouches and applied the necessary notice me not and security charms to them as would likely be necessary for them in this alien environment.

"Pressure Warning; Atmospheric Venting in the Cockpit. There are microfractures in the main view-port," came the computer simulated voice of Hermione.

"Yellow Alert; all biological inhabitants should don protective pressure suits on the Bridge. Internal scans inconclusive for common areas. Alert Condition Yellow. Please don your pressure suits at this time."

"Now she's trying to contribute!" Dean said mockingly as the alert repeated until it was acknowledged by Harry from his command console, attached to his desk, in their bedroom.

"Oh hush Dean; no reason to be jealous of our Hermione anymore! You won after all," Harry said rising to his tiptoes to kiss his husband.

"Now that's cheating," Dean said smiling as he embraced Harry and the two ended up on their master bed.

After a few moments of kissing and checking to make sure that neither had suffered any side effects of the travel they'd undergone, both returned to the bridge in their custom designed pressure suits as they assessed the damage to the view port and surrounding bulkhead.

"I think at most we'll have to smelt some new aluminum to replace what we have, but the gaskets seem fine," Dean said after casting a diagnostic charm Harry had designed to give a structural read out of the materials before him.

"I think you're right darling, but before we worry about that we need to figure out how to deal with our new neighbors…."

"Proximity Alert! Collision imminent with unknown object closing off the port bow at 1,000 kps. Raising Shields. Condition Red. All hands brace for impact in 10, 09, 08…"

Harry and Dean scrambled from their positions around the bridge to secure themselves in their chairs with their 6 point harnesses and just barely managed to as a massive shadow suddenly overtook their view screen and the tiny doughnut from before suddenly loomed, massive and imposing, on top of them, and their ship jerked as if struck.

"Report!" Harry called to Dean, whose hands were a flurry of motion trying to get information from the various sensors, probes, cameras, and telemetry equipment built into the ship.

"Um…..Everything is spiking Harry! It's like there's been a massive and continuous solar flare. None of my gauges are reading accurately and I'm losing video to EMPs left and right. Core ship systems are shutting down and engaging the faraday protocols."

There was an otherworldly mechanical sound which reverberated throughout the entirety of their little ship, and suddenly their viewport lost polarization.

"I can't see what's going on Harry," Dean said.

"Engaging Doppler," Harry said as a small(ish) LED screen rose from Harry's station and began showing a 3 dimensional sonar image that indicated that the were somehow being pulled into the massive doughnut ship from earlier.

"Holy Balls Harry! Look at the size of that hanger," Dean said as an opening that could only be a hanger bay came into view, with the MRI like model showing them the massive scale of the behemoth about to swallow them whole.

I know Dean; I don't know if I'm looking forward to what these folks may have to offer.

The ship finally was docked before most of the systems crashed in cascading failure.

"We've got to get out Dean! Make your way to the emergency air lock," Harry choked out as smoke began invading the cockpit over the warnings of computer Hermione and the klaxons onboard rang to evacuate.

"Follow me," Dean yelled over the din as he took Harry's hand and the two made their way from the cockpit, down the main corridor to the aft exit, where Dean blew the door and the two were able to slide down on a repurposed airways slide Harry had incorporated into the design.

"Automatic Fire Suppression Systems Engaged," Hermione could be heard to say as foam started spewing forth from the breached hatch as the alarms, klaxons, and noise from the SS Hedwig Reborn finally went quiet.

"Halt! Identify Yourselves!" a unit of red tinged B-1s said as they cautiously approached Harry and Dean.

"Did you catch what that thing said luv," Dean asked as he looked confused to Harry.

"Not a clue, but let's try this again."

"Hello little metal man! My name is Harry and I'm the owner of this fine ship; sorry for the mess," he said indicating the foam and odd smell coming from the Hedwig as a minor explosion reverberated from somewhere within its depths.

"Is there anyone here that speaks English?"

The B-1s called for a protocol droid as the two were held at gun point.

Dean was peaceably placed into energy cuffs, along with Harry, and both were surrounded by the Security Guards as they made their way to the nearest checkpoint that would have a protocol droid waiting.

"Cor look at this Harry!" Dean exclaimed after rushing to a window as they were ushered from the landing bay to an interrogation room and detention cell on the rim near where they'd landed.

"Shove up then…oh my. I don't think we're near the Sol System darling," Harry said as the large craft rapidly began to approach the alien planet below and the two got a good look at the absolutely massive ring of shipyards circling the planet.

"Look at that! It's fucking massive," Dean exclaimed pointing to a Providence Class Dreadnaught being built.

"I think I've got you beat darling," Harry said from another window as he motioned Dean over to observe the Subjugator Class Heavy Cruiser being built in the sluice next to the first ship they'd observed.

Suddenly the door opened, and a black humanoid thing waddled into the room, elbows crooked at a 45 degree angle, and began jabbering at the two.

"What do you think it's saying," Harry asked Dean as the thing pointed to itself and them repeatedly, making a high pitched whining sound.

"I don't know luv…it may be retarded."

Harry slapped the back of Dean's head.

"Oi! What was that for!"

"You can't call someone retarded Dean! It's not right. Perhaps he's the handi-capable welcome wagon, and doing a little show for us, and we just don't understand his language! This could be a Senior Level project he's worked on and a performance art requirement for his certificate. Don't just judge the cognitively non-normative as lesser just because they're different. They're lesser because society objectifies them and places artificial limits upon them!" Harry said donning his cloak of social justice warrior inherited from his time serving in the legion of overlord she-who-must-not-be-spoken-of.

"Knock it off Har; I think it's listening to us," Dean said pointing out that the robot had stopped waving around, had moved closer, and had been listening intently to them.

The two shared a look before Harry began slowly speaking to it.

"My name is Harry Potter. This," he said placing a hand on Dean's firm pectorals, "is my husband Dean Thomas-Potter. We arrived on the SS Hedwig Reborn. We are 38 years old from the Sol System and the planet Earth, which may otherwise be deemed as Sol-03."

Harry conjured a whiteboard and supplies behind his back before bringing them forward and quickly scribbling out the English Alphabet and writing the sentence:

The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.

"They queek brawn fux jump doer tha lz dug," the droid repeated before looking up at Harry.

"Incorrect. The. Quick. Brown. Fox. Jumped. Over. The. Lazy. Dog.," he said emphasizing each word before continuing. "Harry Potter," he said placing his hand on his chest, "Dean Thomas-Potter," he said placing his palm on Dean's.

"Hairy Potter, Dean Thumas Potter I D7-M6," the thing said pointing from the couple to itself.

"This is taking ages Har, why don't you do your thing…" Dean said.

Harry sighed before he cautiously approached D7 and gently placed his hands over the machine's head and reached out with his magic and quietly chanted a spell of his own design that would allow the rapid interaction between Harry's consciousness and the underlying code which operates the robot before him.

A few minutes passed before smoke started to rise from D7 and Harry and he violently separated in a shower of sparks.

"Mama Mia! That's a spicy meata-ball!" D7 suddenly cried from his crumpled position on the overturned table as suddenly four of the little metal men they'd met earlier rushed the room with guns pointed menacingly screeching in their high pitched voices.

"Hold off," D7 commanded which Harry could suddenly understand. "We've just been exchanging language. These humans apparently are a subspecies of Force-Sensitives we've never encountered before and Harry here has kindly exchanged the details of his language and history with me, the same as I've done for him."

"Do they pose a threat," the Yellow Striped Commander droid asked.

"Most definitely if provoked, but they are the first of their species to venture beyond their planet and bear nothing but peaceful intentions; if the history I've been shown is any indication, they will make a powerful ally for the Confederacy," D7 concluded.

"Are they armed?"

"Always; their use of the force is unlike anything ever experienced before. They are never unarmed and have the capability to reshape planets if they so desired. They are the equivalent of the Celestials," D7 concluded as he righted himself and screwed his dislocated arm back into its socket. "It's nice to have full range of motion," he observed as the security droids began lowering their weapons.

"Please send for refreshments and a light meal which is compatible with human anatomy, along the lines of the cuisine of Naboo. I am proceeding with First Contact Protocols and will be engaging in potential treaty negotiations with these two on behalf of the CIS. Please alert the Council of the Admiralty, and ask that we be met by a representative concerning a potential vital resource to the war effort."

"Roger, Roger!" the Command Droid said as it left the room.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Thomas-Potter," he began, "I am D7-M6. I am a 4th Generation Protocol and Diplomatic Droid for the Confederacy of Independent Star Systems, whose government is presently in exile. I hold the ex officio Military Rank of Captain as a member of the diplomatic corps and have the authority to speak on behalf of my government in matters of First Contact with a New Species, or Unknown Alien Race."

Dean and Harry shared a surprised look as the robot continued to lead them through corridors until they finally entered a plush looking conference room an unknown number of decks away from their point of entry.

"After having had a chance to review the information you shared with me Mr. Potter I have been able to determine that you and your husband do not pose a threat to the Confederacy, that your presence in this System is accidental, and that you mean no harm to the Confederacy, its members, or citizens even though you are certainly capable of it. Are we on the same page so far," D7 asked as several PK units suddenly entered carry trays of various drinks, fruits, cheeses, vegetables, and meats which was presented to each man to select from.

"Please take and eat. I wish to assure you both that you will be afforded the utmost courtesies while you remain our guest. It is my intention to open a dialogue that will be mutually beneficial for both yourselves and the Confederacy as we await the arrival of a Senior Diplomat and member of the Admiralty."

Harry and Dean cautiously took a cup of what turned out to be a very tasty fruit juice, and a small plate of each of the offered dishes so as not to offend, before Dean spoke up.

"So, Harry shared his memories with you then?"

"Yes Mr. Thomas-Potter. The Cultural and Biological information he shared assisted in my rapid understanding of both your language, history, and planet of origin, but also allowed for the free flow and rapid information exchange that shared the history of the Confederacy and greater Galaxy with him."

Dean looked to Harry, who started rubbing his head.

Dean continued to start at Harry before he finally snapped.

"Ok fine! But don't say I didn't warn you," Harry said pressing a finger to Dean's forehead as an arc of magic connected before Dean was knocked back into the seat behind him.

"Fuck me! That hurt!"

"I tried to tell you dearest," Harry said with a smirk as he drank from his cup.

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me it was gonna be that much information. I mean for fuck's sake, he's given us at least 500 years worth of history on Galactic powers and I don't even want to know how many bleedin languages he's given us," Dean bitched as he began vigorously rubbing his eyes.

"It'll pass luv. It always does. Just calm down and stop complaining."

Harry tuned to D7 and continued, "how long do you think we'll have to wait for the representatives from the Navy and Diplomatic Corps arrive? I'd like to go and inspect the Hedwig if I can."

D7 tapped a console and after reviewing some information replied.

"I'm afraid the ship is being tended to by a fire crew and cleaners right now, however we have dispatched a unit of engineers to ensure the ship remains stable until you can return.

Harry shared a concerned look with Dean.

"It is presently leaking some form of exotic radiation," D7 continued, "that has proven extremely damaging to even our more hardened and shielded droids. The Commodore of this Flight has been notified of your presence and will be coming to speak with you shortly after he's had a chance to be briefed Sirs. I apologize for this delay, but it is necessary for your safety as well as that of the crew, and we are following our protocols as laid down by the Confederate Ministry of Health."

D7 indicated the two should join him at the table.

"In the meantime, I have sorted through the information you've shared and I have discovered that there are several similarities between your culture and that most humans experience in the CIS. For instance," he said taking a pause to speak directly to Harry, "your rank as a Hereditary Duke, and Lord in the Governing Body your people recognized translates effectively to the system of norms experienced throughout the Confederacy; titles of nobility are not rare and you and your husband will have your rank recognized as being the highest ranked members of your world. I also have been able to discern that you hold the equivalent rank of Field Marshall for your role in the liberation of your people."

Harry blushed as Dean squeezed his hand to comfort him of the memories of the battles they'd both been through in the fight against first Voldemort, and then his remnant before assisting in setting up a new wizarding government more in line with that of the Muggles.

"Thank you D7; I'd not planned on being an ambassador for my people, but your recognition of the trials and tribulations of our lives are much appreciated," Harry said hugging Dean close. "May I ask why we're needing to go through these meetings? I really need to get to my ship and start working on the repairs before it becomes so damaged I have to scuttle her."

"My Apologies Field Marshall, but our government is in exile and we have been for going on two decades now. The member worlds and species which initially formed the Confederacy of Independent Star Systems was in reaction to widespread corruption by the Galactic Government of the day, and represented an attempt to return more liberty, freedom, and direct democracy to the individual Systems that made up the government. A war was fought, and both sides did terrible things, but the Jedi," the robot practically spat, "who was leading our cause was in league with the enemy the entire time. The Republic we'd left was later converted into the First Galactic Empire and untold billions fled to this remote planet in an attempt to save them from the butcher's axe that awaited them for daring to be freethinkers and liberty conscious."

"That's horrible," Dean interjected as Harry nodded in agreement.

"It has been," D7 continued.

"For years, we've been welcoming in the odd stragglers and species which would otherwise have been annihilated by the Jedi and their new Galactic Empire. We're trying to rebuild, to carry out the last mission assigned to Grand Admiral Gorm in bringing the revenge of the CIS upon the galaxy for the evils visited upon us…but we must bide our time, and build our fleets until the moment is right to strike and win the war."

"So you want us to consider joining your cause, or if not at least agreeing not to serve as an aggressor toward your interests after you've seen my memories," Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes Field Marshall; receiving you into the ranks of the CIS military would be a boon we'd not otherwise receive, and it seems almost as though by the will of the force you arrived. We detected no hyperspace window and your craft should not have been able to operate, let alone function in space," Dean glared at Harry at this declaration, "and your powers break every law of science I can recognize. You appear to fit the description for the Celestials of old which many species of this galaxy revere as gods. We would be foolish from a moral or tactical position to fail to court your alliance," he finished before going silent and sitting back.

Before Harry or Dean could ask another question the doors slid open with a hiss and all present rose to meet the young human woman which had just walked in.

"Greetings. I am Commodore Liala Hutch, and you are aboard my ship the CIS LD-963, Ranger, which is the command ship of the 4 th Squadron of the 05 th Task Group assigned to Rear Admiral Kane Bredz, which forms Task Force 01 of Vice Admiral Rham, a division of the 205th Fleet Commanded by Admiral Trench. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking," Liala asked of D7.

"Commodore, this is His Grace Field Marshall Harry Potter, 15th Hereditary Duke of Lennox and his Husband The Most Honorable Marquis of Lennox, Baron of Lennox, General Dean Thomas-Potter of the Sol System."

The commodore, slightly taken aback, looked between the two and finally settled a stern glare at D7.

"Do they understand Basic? I've never heard of the Sol system," she asked.

"We do Commodore," Dean interjected. "We had a nice chat with D7 here and he helped us bridge any communications barriers which may have previously existed. For that we are grateful," he said with a slight incline toward the commodore.

"I see," she said with a tinge of sarcasm.

"I've come to ask how in the hell you powered that little ship Marshall. I'm getting all kind of energy readings from it, most of the droids I send to inspect it shut down upon touching the perimeter, and the only one to make it over the threshold imploded. The radiation is starting to leak from your ship and is presently extending 5 meters around your ship. I need you to cut off whatever power source you're using until we can ensure it's safe," she demanded.

Harry had taken on a look of confusion as he'd been sure he'd started the shut down sequence before they exited the ship and seen the confirmation that the Potter-Granger Reactors had shut down properly, otherwise neither he nor Dean would have left until they had.

"We shut cut all power on our ship before we exited Commodore. It may be that your troops are encountering the security measures I've put in place. The radiation bubble you've described sounds like the effects of a passive shield I've installed which prevents physical objects from encroaching within 5 meters of the superstructure of the Hedwig. The radiation you're reading may be a measurement for the wardline being generated," Harry replied.

She looked to D7 to clarify.

"What's a wardline? Is he translating correctly into Basic," she asked.

"They are Celestials," he replied.

She began to rapidly blink and flit her gaze between Harry, Dean, and D7.

"Please send in another protocol droid to Conference room Romeo-05. The unit present is malfunctioning," Liala spoke into her coms.

"Commodore, I can assure you my systems are functioning properly. I have conducted a continuous diagnostic since moving from the interrogation room with these two some time ago, and there are no faults in my cognitive or memory engrams," D7 volunteered.

"Marshall Potter, perhaps a demonstration would enlighten the Commodore," he suggested.

She looked between D7 and the Potters with suspicion and subtly called for security to enter the room from the opposite entrance.

"And just what is Marshall Potter going to demonstrate," she asked casually resting her hand on her sidearm.

"I think transfiguration would suffice Marshall," D7 spoke up indicating a vacant chair near the group.

"Go on Har, you were always better at transfiguration than I was," Dean said reading the situation and subtle palming his wand as he backed away from Harry after a short hug to take cover their backs from the droids which had just entered.

"Whatever this demonstration is to be, do it because I don't have time to waste," Liala demanded.

"Very well," Harry said as he snapped his fingers and the chair before them became an exact clone of Liala, in form, dress, height, and look.

"What in the blue hells of the Force is that!" she shrieked backing away suddenly as the security droids drew their blasters, only for them to fly from their hands, and them to become affixed to the ceiling above the door they entered.

"Collopoprtus," Dean cast wide as a sucking sound emanated from the doors and windows as they sealed with magic. "We're secure Harry," Dean finished over the cries and wines of the frantic and panicking security droids.

"What is going on here," Liala demanded.

"What is going on here," her clone which had prior been a chair mimicked.

"This," Harry said walking closer to Liala who backed away, "is an example of the magic that D7 was trying to describe to you, and which I was attempting to assure you posed no threat to your ship."

Harry waved his hand and suddenly the Commodore found herself unable to move and helpless to the situation.

"D7 alert security! Engage the Hostile Protocols!" she screamed in outrage.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Liala."

She momentarily stopped in her struggles as she'd never before been spoken to by a droid like that before.

"I'm giving you a direct order D7-M6, alert security and call for help at once!"

"He's not going to do that Liala, so please calm down," Harry spoke.

She glared at him and shut her mouth in defiance.

Harry snapped his fingers again and the clone Liala returned to being a chair, and the security droids were removed from the ceiling, the doors suddenly unsealed, and everyone found themselves seated around the conference table in comfortable wingback chairs.

"He's not going to do that because he knows better than to piss us off," Dean supplied.

"How? We were there," Liala said in confusion as she rapidly moved her head from side to side to try and comprehend how they'd not only moved from where they were but to observe she was physically sitting in a very comfortable foreign chair which had never prior been in this room.

"And now you see why D7 recognizes not only our rank but titles as well," Dean supplied. "We are very different from anyone you've ever read about or encountered Commodore. We're honest to god Wizards, and can do wonderful or terrible things with the wave of a hand or the snap of a finger. My husband shared the history of our peoples with D7 who in turned shared the history of your peoples with us. We wouldn't still be here if we desired to be a threat to you Commodore. We just want to fix our ship, determine where we are, and how or if we can go back home."

"We appreciate the hospitality we've been shown," Harry cut in, "but we won't abide any disrespect or attempts at using undue force or aggression with us. I can understand your hatred of the Jedi and all Force users, but we're neither; we wield true magic which defies the laws of science, and sometimes even nature," Harry said recalling the fact that Seamus had somehow not only become pregnant but birthed a child for himself and his lover, a rather well endowed Centaur named Big Daddy-D while his was on holiday from Compton.

"D7 was explaining to us a bit of the history of the CIS in the hopes that he could woo us into being open to the idea of at least a non-aggression pact, if not outright alliance. Although, given the CIS's stance on what I'll generously refer to as 'indentured servitude,'" Dean said with air quotes, "outright alliance may be impossible due to a profound disagreement we have fundamentality with the concept of slavery in any form."

Harry nodded along in agreement with what dean was saying.

"Now, if you could D7, would you mind bringing up a real time map of the Gaxaxy if at all possible?"

"At once General Thomas-Potter," he replied.

"General Thomas will do D7; it will be easier to refer to me by my bachelor name so you don't confuse your superiors in the paperwork," Dean said with a smile.

"As you wish," D7 replied as a real time holographic projection of the galaxy took shape over the table and the windows polarized to provide darkness.

"Can this be manipulated," Harry asked to Liala.

She looked at him with incomprehension.

"Can we rotate, zoom, or otherwise manipulate this hologram," he clarified.

"Yes Marshall…pinch, pull, and swipe," she said demonstrating the corresponding hand gestures.

"Thank you m'am."

Dean and Harry then took to rotating the image, zooming here or there along each spiral arm of the Galaxy and somehow had a conversation from which neither noise or the clearly discernable movement of their lips could be read.

This continued for some time before suddenly, with a slight pop, the sound of the two men returned and Harry asked D7 for a view of the local Super-Cluster of Galaxies to which the protocol droid complied, after digging around in the ship's astrophysics files for a few seconds searching out the information.

There was another pop as the local super cluster appeared and Harry and Dean were once more discussing things among themselves.

Suddenly, the communicator belonging to the commodore began to vibrate and she stepped away from the table and took the call.

"Status update Liala," the voice of Rear Admiral Bredz, her direct superior, ordered.

"Approximately 2 hours ago we received dispatch orders to intercept a small craft with odd energy readings entering the Zi-al defense perimeter from System Security Forces. No recordings of a hyperspace window opening or closing exist, and the ship was of unknown design, unknown propulsion, and unknown power. The crew are humanoids, which seem to have some type of mastery over the Force or a similar energy which are capable of molecular reconstruction….D7-M6, a protocol droid assigned to ascertain their intentions prior to interrogation, claims they are Celestials. I have seen Jedi or other Force Sensitives Admiral, and these are no Jedi…they have abilities the likes of which have never been chronicled in modern times."

The Admiral waited patiently for her to finish though he wanted to interject.

"The pair of pilots we have discovered are a married couple of some type of Noble Peerage int heir home system, and both have military rank. One of Field-Marshal, akin to the Rank afforded to General Grievous, and the other a standard General of an army. The small crew and size of the craft leads me to believe it was either an experimental prototype or a home-made pleasure craft. There are no discernable weapons on it, and neither were armed with traditional weapons."

She paused to collect her thoughts.

"Prior to my meeting the duo, D7 alerted Central Command as to First Flag Protocols, whereupon I introduced myself. I am convinced that First Flag Protocols should be followed and negotiations begun with these two Admiral; a meeting with Admiral Trench is highly warranted as these two are possessing of asset(s) and ability(s) which will be necessary in a future ward with the Empire and Jedi. If we are to ever avenge the CIS lives which were lost, these two would be an invaluable asset to have on our side."

She waited for the Admiral to reply as he was normally a very chatty individual.

"You said these people exhibited powers similar to the Jedi Liala?"

"Yes sir; similar, but very different," she said as the ship his Zi-al's atmosphere and started the slow descent to one of the secure ports of call the Navy used planet side.

"I see. A Cortosis Team, and doctor, will be awaiting your arrival at port. You and this Jedi crew will be quarantined to ensure that you've not been influenced by their mind tricks. Only after having you examined by a Doctor will I even entertain bumping this up to Admiral Trench. Do not resist when they present themselves, as they will be operating under the assumption you've been compromised by a Force Sensitive."

"Understood Admiral; but please make sure that the team knows, and your records reflect, that these two are docile until provoked, and are never without natural armaments. Do not allow these teams to provoke their wrath. I caused an annoyance and feared for my life briefly, but the two were just making a point. I'm not quite sure whether they are Celestials or not, but I know they're more powerful than any being I've personally read of apart from the divine…." she trailed off as D7 called for her attention once more.

"Admiral, I'm being summoned back to these preliminary negotiations; will we be met by the Diplomatic Delegation upon landing or will that be rescheduled until they've passed quarantine?"

Bredz heaved a sigh into the coms, and took a moment before finally answering, "I'll change the orders to have the diplomatic delegation routed to the medbay they'll be quarantined to at the Port. Please advise them that for public health reasons they will be inoculated over their objections for all communicable and carriable diseases Humanoids experience or they will be barred from entry into CIS territory."

"So standard protocols?"

"Yes Liala. Standard protocols…but god help me if you've been compromised and are fucking around under their spell, I'm going to knock some sense into you personally. Bredz out.

Liala returned to the table as the ship experienced minor turbulence as it made a 37 degree turn dipping steadily faster into the atmosphere on approach to the secure port where they'd be soon docking.

The discussions continued uninterrupted until they landed and the party made its way to the medical wing Liala had explaind and the two guests willingly submitted to a check up on the condition no samples of their blood, fluids, or such be retained.

It was a new day for the Confederacy, and a New Dawn in the age of Homo Magica. Perhaps the two would find some way to get along and solve the problems of the other, or at least contribute to the resolution of the outstanding issues of the day.

Only time would tell.

****Elsewhere, Rebel HQ****

In the shadows and smoke of a base dealing with decades, if not centuries, old equipment, piece meal gathered power couplings, and a hodgepodge of species, plans were coalescing into the push that would launch a major offensive against the Empire and take the Rebellion from existing on the fringes, into igniting the fires of open rebellion against Palpatine and his Sith Empire.

"Have we had any news from Scariff or Admiral Raddus," one of the people shuffling about a communications console asked.

"Negative Commander; we've lost all contact with Raddus and his fleet. Last report was that his ship was about to enter Hyperspace to join Rogue One and the remainder of his fleet."

"How long ago was that?"

"Approximately 15 minutes sir."

"Gods damn what's taking them so long to report," the commander screamed as he kicked the console in front of him which instantly sprang to life relating live reports of the battle of Scariff.

"Red Wing, follow though!"

"Gold Wing, Tie Fighters on you tail, pull off, pull off!"

"Watch that star destroyer…..It's fucking crashed into the planetary shield!"

"We're in, move! Move! Move!"

"What's going on corpsman," the Commander, who'd inadvertently fixed a connection from the old equipment which had failed, said as he charged to the intelligent board that would show real time info on troop positions, and the battle of Scariff.

"We've taken out multiple Star Destroyers Sir; it looks like this will be an Alliance Victory!"

Cheers erupted around the room, as more people had assembled with the connection to Admiral Raddus' Fleet was reestablished.

"This is Admiral Raddus, we have the plans to the Death Star! All Rebel Ships, engage your hyperdrives and rendezvous and location Delta Charlie."

"Fuck it's the 501st and Vader!"

"Scatter, All Ships Evasive Maneuvers," Raddus' voice could clearly be heard before the coms went dead.

The cheering had died as suddenly as it had erupted, and the leaders of the Rebellion knew not what to do.

***To Be Continued***

Author's Commentary:

A Note Concerning my writing style.

None of my stories are ever written with a "plot" per se. I never sketch out a story. Fanfiction to me is "fun" writing and I try to pick up where I left off as best I can.

I never start a story without a general idea of a beginning, a middle, and at least the start of a conclusion. However, as this is specifically a ficlet file I'm liable to post thoughts or ideas as much as I am a complete arc.

This is my third jaunt into the HPxSW universe. If you'd care to read the others, look into my HP Ficlet File.

I appreciate each and every one of you…whether I recognize your names during reviews, here's looking at you Joe, or you're a Guest.

Thank you all sincerely for playing in my sandbox!

Original Chapter Date: 05/17/2018

Polished Date: TBD

Reviews are welcome, and appreciated. Please feel free to share this story file with your friends, chat groups, etc. I welcome all constructive criticism.

The position of Beta is actively being sought.

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