Dear Reader, Thank you to my reviewers: Sued13, Ms CT-782, Akira-Hayama, Christina TM, Princess Rey Tano, and Guest. As always, much appreciated. You will see see I move very fast through the rest of the Bad Batch very quickly, mostly in Rex's recollections. Enjoy! CS

Chapter 128 Stealth Mission

"Of all those in the army close to the commander, none is more intimate than the secret agent; of all matters, none is more confidential than those relating to secret operations."

The Art of War
Sun Tzu

They were underway again.

He could feel the movement.

Even in the vacuum of space, the artificial gravity aboard Challenger was just enough to tell Rex's equilibrium when the ship was in motion.

They were leaving Anaxes. At last.

And leaving with a victory in the Republic column – an ever rarer occurrence.

They had Echo to thank for it; for with Echo's rescue, the Techno Union and Separatist network had been left bereft of their source of data and strategy. Not only that, but Echo knew all about the enemy systems, weapons and tactics. Now, instead of being used by the Separatists, he could use their own knowledge against them.

And that was precisely what he'd done. Several days after his rescue from Skako Minor and after he'd undergone several procedures to restore him—at least partially—to health, he'd decided it was time to step up and be a part of the effort to undo some of the damage he had done. He'd devised and presented a plan to leadership to go behind enemy lines on Anaxes and remotely feed a shut-down command into the droid army. The idea had been accepted, and while the army had been incapacitated, Generals Windu and Kenobi had led the counter-assault.

His scheme had worked. Admiral Trench's forces had been defeated. Trench himself had been killed at the hands of General Skywalker. The shipyards had been reclaimed. The Separatists had been chased from Anaxes.

And now, Challenger was leaving that planet behind, enroute to another mission.

Rex sat up on his bed, ran his hands over his head and let out a long, deep breath.

He couldn't sleep. He was exhausted and wide awake.

It was not only Anaxes that he was leaving behind. Although this time around, it felt more as if he himself were the one being left.

His mind drifted back to their departure from Skako Minor upon defeating Wat Tambor's droid army.

He was standing outside the shuttle. Everyone else was boarding. Echo had taken that opportunity.

"Captain . . . thanks for coming after me."

Rex had felt that thanks were hardly in order, still he had responded with the appropriate earnestness. "That's what brothers do. Just sorry it took so long. Hopefully, it's going to be just like old times."

Old times. Just like old times. That had been what Rex had hoped for, what he had truly expected.

But it had not turned out that way, and there was a certain pain in acknowledging as much.

Working with Echo in the flight from his captivity and then again during the infiltration to take down Trench's army and reclaim the shipyards, Rex had been drawn willingly into the happy memories of what it was like to team up with him. Not a single jot of the ARC trooper mindset had disappeared from Echo's mentality. He felt no self-pity. He would not allow his physical limitations to diminish his sense of worth. He knew he could contribute, and he made damned sure everyone else knew, as well. He held no animus towards the situation that had befallen him. No regrets. No blame-casting. If anything, his captain's hero status seemed only more cemented in the firmament following his deliverance.

Immediately following the rescue, as the medical staff had worked to return him to the greatest degree of humanity possible, the hard part had come. Rex had wanted to ward it off for as long as possible, but he'd known that the moment things slowed down long enough for Echo to collect his thoughts, it would be the concern at the top of his list.

They had been aboard the Arrowstar.

Rex could check on both Cody's and Echo's progress in one visit. He could visit his other injured troopers.

But he could not avoid the question he'd known was coming.

"You haven't mentioned Fives, Captain. Nobody has."

Rex had been able to tell from Echo's tone that he already suspected the truth but clearly hadn't had the courage to inquire of any other troopers. Rex had replied with uncharacteristic softness and remorse.

"Fives is dead, Echo. I'm sorry. It happened just a few months ago."

Unlike Fives, Echo had always been the more resilient and stoic of the two. His response had been measured. "How did it happen?"

"That's . . . that's a complicated answer," Rex fumbled. How could he explain it? "He became sick and grew delusional—"

"But he wasn't that way when he left Kamino to see the Chancellor."

Rex was stunned. "How did you know about that?"

"I detected his CT number in several highly encrypted transmissions. Don't forget, while they were using me, I was gathering as much intel on them as I could, to include looking at all kinds of data transmissions. I was able to track the communications about Fives until he got to Coruscant. After that, I lost track. It was as if an added layer of security was put in place, and I couldn't get past it."

"I don't know exactly what happened to him, Echo. The scientists on Kamino thought his inhibitor chip had malfunctioned. He was paranoid and . . . acting . . . crazy at the end. He raised a weapon on CG troops, and Commander Fox shot him."

Echo's manner never wavered. He was the same calm, collected trooper he'd always been. "I wish I could have seen him once more. I wish he could have known that I was still alive."

Rex had let it rest at that. He could have told Echo how difficult it had been for Fives after the Citadel, that he had never gotten over Echo's death—perceived death. He could have told him the many twists and turns that had shaped Fives without Echo's steadying influence; but he did not. What would be the point? The past was the past, and there was no sense in tarnishing any part of Echo's memory of his friend. Fives had been a good trooper and deserved to be remembered as such.

Rex got to his feet. He considered going to visit Cody, now returned from the Arrowstar and recuperating in his quarters; but he discarded that idea. It was 0300 hours, and the commander was undoubtedly in a much needed sleep.

Instead, he took his data pad, sat down, and began scrolling through the latest reports from the field. Normally, he would have added information from the after action reports to his algorithm, but not anymore. He'd destroyed the algorithm as General Skywalker had requested. And now, whatever he read in the daily rollups, he would just have to trust to his memory.

But that memory was focused elsewhere at the moment, and he could not overcome it.

"Your path is different, like ours." Hunter's voice cut across his thoughts. "If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well . . . find us."

Hunter speaking to Echo.

Rex had overheard every word. And when he'd turned to see Echo still standing there, regarding the Bad Batchers as they prepared to board their ship and depart, those words became gut-wrenching. He could see Echo was considering the possibility, weighing the option in his mind.

Fives and Echo had been the last two surviving members of Domino Squad. Rex had laid everything on the line in bringing them into the 501st, and it had been the right decision. He'd field-promoted them to ARC trooper. The right decision. He'd placed a great deal of faith in their abilities, recognizing the strengths each possessed individually and collectively.

He'd already lost Fives to an untimely and questionable death. He had lost Echo, only to find him still alive. And now he was going to lose him again – though this time, not to death but to another unit. It was something that happened all the time across the GAR in these latter days of the war where decimated units were split up to reconstitute other units.

Where did Echo fit in? Where would he be happy and of the greatest use?

Rex had only one answer: here, in the 501st, with him, with General Skywalker. With the brothers who had become his extended family. Still . . . Echo had been robbed for the past year of the freedom to make any decision of his own volition. He'd been imprisoned, controlled, and manipulated. Rex had decided he would not do the same to him now.

"Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside." Perhaps. Perhaps not. Rex would never sell his own 501st men short, and he would choose them over the Bad Batch without hesitation. But a bit of hyperbole made what he was about to do less painful. "Echo, you and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

He hadn't known what Echo was thinking. He hadn't expected him to choose as he did. He'd turned and begun to walk away, truly believing that any second, Echo would return to his side. Echo was that loyal; he would never walk away from his captain, from the man who had risked all to rescue him. He would come back to the 501st, bringing an exciting new capability with him. This was the home he and Fives had known together.

But . . . no longer.

Echo did not appear at Rex's shoulder. There was no sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

"I . . . miscalculated," Rex sighed, setting aside the data pad. "I wanted him to do what was best for me, but he did what was right for him."

His last image of Echo was of him standing with the Bad Batch outside their ship. Echo had saluted him. The others had followed his lead.

A parting sign of respect and admiration.

And not at all what Rex had wanted.

"I wish we'd gotten to see him again," Sempe remarked, joining some of his battalion mates in the mess. "It's a miracle he was still alive."

"Yeah, it would have been nice to talk to him," Sixer agreed.

"Why didn't he come to see us before he left?" Sempe wondered aloud, and Sixer detected an undertone of disappointment—even hurt—in his voice.

"Maybe Clone Force 99 had another assignment, and he didn't have time," Gernot suggested. "Or maybe seeing us would remind him too much of Fives."

DB shook his head. He was not ready to be as accommodating. "Why did he choose to go with them? Why didn't he come back to the 501st ? We're his brothers. We would have—we would have been there for him."

Ajax pat his friend on the shoulder. "He did what he thought he needed to do."

"But the captain and the general are the ones who went after him," DB persisted. "You know this was their idea. Doesn't he—doesn't he feel like he owes it to them to come back to the 501st? I mean, are we going to—to have another investigation into the captain and the general disobeying orders and going out there, taking the risk to find him and then he decides not to . . . eh, fek."

"Hey," Ajax gave him a friendly nudge. "Don't let it bother you so much."

But the truth was, they all understood DB's sentiment. They all felt the same thing to varying degrees. Upon learning that Echo had been found alive, prisoner of the Separatists and being used against his will to counter Republic forces; that a rescue mission had been launched under the veil of secrecy by their captain and their general but with outsiders who didn't even know Echo; and that the rescue had been successful, only to learn that Echo had chosen Clone Force 99 to be his family going forward, departing without even a single word to his former battalion mates . . .

It was a peculiar dichotomy between the joy of finding that he was still alive; and the hurt of being shut out of any partaking of that joy. They hadn't even gotten to lay eyes on him, much less speak with him. How many brothers came back from the dead? How many of those left behind would have given anything to see those they'd lost just one more time?

"There's not going to be an investigation," Jesse said, picking up on DB's last comment. "I heard General Kenobi and General Skywalker talking. Apparently, the Jedi Council had some stern words for General Skywalker, but that's it."

"At least that's a good thing," Sixer nodded.

"And we did win Anaxes," Gernot added. "Nice to have a victory after so many defeats."

"So, any word on where we're headed now?" Sempe asked.

"Kamino," Jesse replied. "Replacements."

"At least our losses weren't as bad as on Umbara—" Gernot began, falling silent as DB got to his feet.

"So, we're done talking about Echo?" The sniper sounded angry.

The table's occupants looked at him with speechless surprise.

Double Barrel averted his gaze, flustered, as if he realized he'd spoken out of turn and with no good reason. "I . . . need some rack time," he mumbled, excusing himself and leaving the table.

Ajax stood. "I'll look after him. He's much more sensitive these days."

"I didn't know he and Echo were that close," Jesse put forth.

"They weren't. No closer than the rest of us, at least," Ajax replied. A grin curled one corner of his mouth. "I think it's the eagle. He heightens more than just DB's senses. He'll be okay." A pause. "But I do wish we'd gotten a chance to just . . . say hello to Echo before he left."

Jesse nodded. "We all do. But, with any luck, our paths will cross again."

"Yeah," Ajax replied. "In this life."

He hadn't even reached the barracks before Ajax caught up with him.

"Okay, sniper, what was that all about?" came the demand, spoken with just the right amount of chastisement to convey that an answer was expected but enough quiet affection to let DB know that Ajax wasn't angry; he only wanted to be helpful.

DB gave a one-sided shrug and continued walking. "It's osik, Ajax. It's osik, and we all know it."

"What is?"

"It was wrong of Echo to choose to go with those . . . those—"

"Careful," Ajax warned. "You know, you might fit into the category of the word you're thinking of using, what with your friend and all."

"The captain risked everything to go after him," DB went on. He stopped long enough to face Ajax with a serious look. "Rex didn't take any of us with him. He trusted the Bad Batch more than he trusted us. And then when it was over, Echo and the Bad Batch just up and went their own way. And here we all are, the only ones who are loyal every day and—and we're just an afterthought."

"Woah, wait, wait. Is this about Echo or the captain?"

"I dunno. Both, maybe?" He grit his teeth. "It's funny, because we're on our way to Kamino for replacements. But I feel like we've already been replaced."

Ajax was flummoxed. This was not like DB at all. "Where is all this coming from?"

"Would you risk everything for someone if you knew they were going to turn their back on you?" DB asked.

"That's not what happened here—"

"It's exactly what happened! Echo—Echo turned his back on the captain, and the captain turned his back on us—"

"Is your fekking chip malfunctioning now?" Ajax interjected, somewhere between humor and admonishment. When DB did not answer, a thought suddenly occurred to Ajax. There had to be a reason behind this peculiar outburst. "The eagle . . . did he show you something?"

Double Barrel hedged.

"Look, I don't understand how he . . . how he works inside you, but . . . but did he show you or tell you something to make you act like this?"

"I . . . I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

Double Barrel struggled to find the words. "He . . . he doesn't always make it clear. But in the mess, he was . . . he was agitated." He directed his gaze into his brother's eyes with intensity. "And all I could think about in there was . . . being left behind."

Ajax smiled gently. "Well, you know I would never leave you behi—"

"I didn't say it was me—"

"Then who?"

DB shook his head in frustration. "I don't know. The eagle was the one who was upset by the talk back there. Not me. Whatever he was reacting to . . . ." A pause. "Or maybe he was just intensifying what I was already feeling. I don't know, Ajax. He's never been like this. I've never been like this, and I was angry because I couldn't stop feeling what he was feeling."

"But what call would he have to be angry or upset? He's a spirit, for fek's sake. He's more powerful than all of us put together. What could possibly happen in our world that could disturb him in his?"

"I don't know," DB admitted. "But I want you and me to stay close on these missions. I don't want to leave you behind or be left behind myself."

Ajax nodded slowly. "You have my word." He drew close and grinned. "And, uh, give your other friend a message. Tell him his thoughts are starting to overpower you. Maybe he needs to take it easy on you."

Double Barrel returned the grin with a half-hearted one of his own. "He likes you. A lot."

"You're looking much better," Rex noted, taking a seat in one of two chairs in Cody's sparsely furnished quarters. Even for a clone, Cody travelled light and was absolutely meticulous. But Rex already knew that from ARC training.

"I'm feeling much better," the commander replied. "By the time we reach Kamino, I'll be good as new."

Rex grinned. "No doubt."

Cody had seen Rex only a couple times since the successful conclusion of the campaign on Anaxes. Challenger had remained in orbit for three days after the final battle, redeploying equipment and personnel. Then they had departed, along with several other fleet vessels, on the ever-more frequent journey to Kamino to pick up replacements for those who had been killed or too severely injured to return immediately to battle.

Such a trip in the early days of the war would have been unnecessary. Other than the battle on Teth, Rex had considered the 501st's losses of personnel to be absorbable. A battalion could wait several weeks for a troop transport or shuttle of replacements to arrive. But losing thirty percent or more of unit strength – that required a much larger contingent of Shinies be provided; and the GAR simply did not have enough troop transports to ferry newbies to units scattered far and wide. It was easier to go straight to Kamino . . . and hope there were enough mature batches of clones to fill the need.

While Anaxes had not been as devastating, manpower-wise, as Umbara, it had been bad enough. Cody looked for indications of just how bad in Rex's demeanor. Thus far, he'd not gotten any sense at all that Rex was concerned about the losses. The 501st, after all, had come through rather well on this round. Less than 10 percent combined fatalities and injuries serious enough to remove a trooper from service. The 212th had fared less well, around 25 percent, many of them aircrews. And Detachment Bravo, 77th Ordnance, long-time co-tenants with both the 501st and 212th, had taken over 40 percent losses, most due to one unlucky enemy round into a munitions depot planetside.

So, Challenger's side trip to Kamino was not for the benefit of the 501st primarily, but rather other units that called the ship home. Indeed, Cody deemed that Rex must feel fairly pleased with the situation as pertaining to his battalion's status. On top of that, the captain had followed his instincts regarding Echo, rescuing the trooper, and depriving the Separatists of one of their most strategic advantages.

Yet, there was a melancholy behind the grin facing him.

And Cody had an idea what it was. He knew Rex had expected Echo would choose to rejoin the 501st. But the commander would not follow that tack. If Rex wanted to bring it up, that was fine. Otherwise, Cody was happy to skim right past it.

"I wonder what they'll have for us after Kamino," the commander put forth.

"Hard to say," Rex replied. "There are so many fronts these days. They could send us anywhere."

"Yeah. It seems like the war's expanding instead of scaling down," Cody agreed. "And they're making droids faster than our side is making clones."

"Well, they needed at least ten years to get us to a point where we were . . . mature enough to go to war. These latest batches are only nine years along. Some might even be less than that," Rex pointed out. "That makes them teenagers."

"Were any of us ever really teenagers, Rex? We went from being batch-kits to being adults. Everything we learned, everything we did to prepare to be soldiers . . . there was no childhood in there. One day we were drinking protofor {infant protein formular} from an automatic dispenser tube, and the next day we were learning how to chart hyperspace jumps and to assemble and disassemble a Deece. We went from infants to men."

Rex cocked his head to one side in disagreement. "I . . . felt like I had a childhood. Maybe not the sort of . . . carefree childhood that we like to imagine, but me and my batchers, we got up to some pretty good mischief when we were still young."

Now, it was Cody's turn to smile. "Why am I not surprised? You're the exception to every rule."

"Yes, I guess I am."

Cody could see it. He could see Rex was right on the cusp of finding some reason to bring up Echo. He was so close, searching for just the right opening.

But it never came.

Whatever it was that Rex wanted to say about the whole operation and Echo's decision to go with Clone Force 99, it was not something he could work up that final bit of courage to do. Or it may not have been a lack of courage at all; perhaps it was something deeper. It might, in fact, have been quite the opposite of cowardice. It might just be a show of strength. It was what it was, and the past could not be undone. Letting the ashes of history lie undisturbed took more fortitude and self-determination than to go trodding through them.

"The rules are there for a reason," Rex said, after a considerable silence. "So that I can be the exception." A shadow of fond recollection stole across his features. "You and Doma Maree have both told me that I'm very bound by the rules, but that they're my own rules. Do you think that's still true?"

Cody smirked. "Probably more than ever."

Rex leaned back with a self-satisfied air. "Good."

At Kamino, Challenger and its units picked up not only Shinies but also a number of clones from demobilized units. Rex left the 501st replacements to Jesse to oversee, for there were other matters that took precedence.

Challenger had received her new orders.

Command Conference Room Three was crowded with those both physically present and those attending holographically.

Cody and Rex stood side-by-side, slightly behind their Jedi Generals. Masters Windu, Yoda, Secura, and Koon, with their respective clone first-in-commands, were there via holo. Admiral Yularn was present, as was Kamat, his senior intelligence officer. There were several other remote attendees, most of whom Rex did not recognize. Most of them wore military uniforms, but there were some dressed in civilian attire.

Admiral Yularen opened the meeting.

"We've received our next OPORD from GAR headquarters," he began. "You remember the consoles that were discovered on Pylotta and the data we downloaded from them. Sixty percent of the data has been decrypted and analyzed. I will turn the floor over to Major Swin from GISA (*GAR Intelligence Systems Agency) to explain the findings."

Major Swin was attending via hologram. But even so, Rex—and every other human male in the room—could see that she was a very beautiful woman. Tall, lean, apparently well-endowed. The dull uniform of the intelligence corps—drab grey from chin to ankle, gathered at the waist with a black belt, high collared, rank worn on the wide epaulets—could not diminish the woman's attractiveness. Her hair was reddish-brown, pulled into a smart bun, making her face appear angular and severe, only enhancing the definition of her features. Her lips were full, her eyebrows arched and preened, her lashes long and heavy.

Yes, she was pleasant to look at.

"The encryption code was actually a combination of several codes," she began, and her voice was no-nonsense. There was nothing mellifluous or even feminine about it, nothing sexy, nothing warm or inviting. It was the voice of business, and that business was intelligence. It was almost as if she knew her particular field of expertise was one of the most poorly regarded in the GAR. Intel tended to be wrong more often than right, or at least rarely complete. That did not surprise Rex. He expected there to be errors in the art of spying. But what he had trouble with was the fact that clone spies and intel officers tended to be much more guarded in their assessments than non-clone intel personnel. Perhaps with the exception of Major Kamat, who had spent enough time working with clones to recognize that reservation was preferable to over-confidence.

Major Swin went on. "The portions we were able to decrypt refer to a droid component facility on Abafar. We've known that the Separatists have had a mining operation in the city of Pons Ora for at least eighteen months, but intel has never revealed any indication of a droid processing plant." A pause. "We determined that the references to a droid facility was actually a cover for some other more nefarious activity." She pulled up an image of a cylindrical structure. "Which leads me to this. This facility is located 30 klicks northeast of Pons Ora. We didn't even know it was there until the data on those consoles prompted us to send long-range spy drones. The images are so poor, because the light refraction off The Void wreaks havoc with ability to take clear pictures. Based off these images, we could see that the tank moves to different heights. But we didn't know exactly what it was for. It certainly doesn't have the appearance of any other droid factory. We weren't convinced it was necessary to send anything other than remotely operated surveillance equipment, but then we intercepted a transmission coming from within the vicinity of the cylinder. It's a digitized voice, so it could be a fake, but here it is."

"New rhydonium plant. 25-51-12 north. 17-18-12 west. In use."

Major Swin resumed. "The appearance of the facility would be more in line with a processing plant than a droid factory, but our drones detected no activity, no energy signature. So, the question remains: what is this facility that it appears so frequently in the intercepted data, and who sent the message from Abafar?"

There followed a lengthy discussion among the parties in attendance.

Rex had always found it interesting – and occasionally frustrating – to observe the process by which his higher-ups came to their conclusions about which course of action to take. They batted about multiple ideas, often coming up with a watered-down hybrid that usually never survived contact with the battlefield – at least, not when General Skywalker was the one leading the fight.

It was just one more reason Rex considered himself to be the most fortunate of clone officers. General Skywalker thought the same way he did. Do whatever it took to gain victory. If that meant using overwhelming force, playing dirty, or taking long-shot risks, so be it. War was not meant to be won by halves.

"The bottom line is we need to find out what this facility really is," Admiral Yularen finally interjected, ending the discussion and debate phase. "According to Major Shim, a lot of the information contained in the data from the consoles would not point to it being a droid factory. We need to find out what it is. That is the first task to be completed. A small stealth task force will be sent to Abafar for recon. The Separatist mining operation there was attacked and destroyed in part nearly two months ago, reportedly at the hands of a single marooned clone commando." He sounded doubtful of that report. "But feed from the drones shows that the Separatist operation is up and running again. So, this will mission will not be without the risk of detection." A pause. "The 501st and 212th will provide the team members, and Major Shim will accompany them as the senior intel officer. Generals, you can start putting your team together as soon as we close this meeting. My navops will transmit rendez-vous coordinates for Major Shim. Are there any questions?"

There were none. The meeting ended.

And General Skywalker turned to his first-in-command with a smile. "And HALO insertion?"

"You know I'm always up for that, Sir," Rex replied gamely.

"Uh, do you think Major Shim would be up for that?" This from General Kenobi.

"Enh, probably not," Anakin replied.

"What about numbers?" Cody asked, then putting forth his own proposal. "I think a two-man air crew, eight on the ground. Mission commander. Number two. A couple explosives experts. A comm specialist. Couple data analysts with a background in rhydonium. And Major Shim would make eight."

"Let's add a security team for added safety," Obi-wan said. "Four men. And a medic . . . just in case."

"That's fifteen altogether," Anakin said with a raised brow. "That's awfully big for a stealth operation. We had less Pathfinders on Pylotta."

"Abafar is not Pylotta," Obi-wan pointed out. "And this is not a Pathfinder mission. This is an intel mission."

"Which would seem to require fewer personnel," Anakin protested. "With that many people, it will be like the circus is coming to town."

"Only if your men act like the clowns," Obi-wan poked.

"Fine, fine. Fifteen, then," Anakin conceded, more anxious to move on to selecting personnel than arguing about how many. He turned to Rex, "You and Cody figure it out."

Cody cast a sideways glance at his general, waiting for the go-ahead.

Obi-wan nodded with a wry grin. "And don't let him push you around, Commander."

Cody chuckled. "He always does. But I'll do my best to hold my own."

"We always land these missions," Zinger remarked, inputting the hyperspace data into the shuttle's navigation computer. "I get the feeling the commander likes to have us on tap."

"It's a compliment," Three Point replied. "He trusts us."

"He's knows we're the best," Zinger agreed. "I'm just not thrilled about going to Abafar. One big ball of empty, dry, searing hot—"

"Void." This came from the rear of the cockpit, where Moog was settling in at the communications station.

"Precisely."

"Buck up," Three Point said with a sideways grin. "This should be a quick in and out."

"Yeah, and every time you say that, it ends up being a complete wringer," Zinger replied. "If we get shot down on this one, you know I'm going to blame you."

"We won't get shot down," Three Point said.

"The Separatists still have a presence there, you know."

"Of course, I know. But the good thing about a place like Abafar is the terrain is so featureless, we can skim the surface without being noticed at all. We can get right below their radar early on and stay there."

Moog spoke up again. "What I want to know is who sent the transmission from Abafar? I've been doing some of my own analysis of that message, and with the strength of the signal that would have been necessary for the nearest interplanetary spy probe to pick it up, it had to have come from a fairly powerful broadcast source. Add to that the fact that it didn't have a specific recipient identified but was rather sent as a general broadcast, almost like an SOS, and that limits where it could have originated from. Hopefully, the GISA officer can help fill in some of the blanks when we rendez-vous."

At that moment, General Skywalker entered the bridge. "Okay, boys, everybody's on board. Are we ready to go?"

"Give me one more minute, General," Zinger replied. "I'm just inputting the redundant sequencer data."

And in one minute—slightly less, actually—they were underway.