Peace was something this galaxy was not capable of experiencing. While some slept peacefully in their ostentatious mansions and luxury apartments on the core worlds, the Empire extended its claws over the unfortunate planets far from its main axis. Claws that increasingly penetrated the flesh of its citizens, condemning them to an endless life of misery and agony.

Reports of social unrest were the norm for imperial public offices. Humble people lost what they had fought for all their lives without any type of restitution. Frustration in the oppressed was a dangerous feeling. A feeling that would bring changes to this galaxy. Changes that, although they had a greater good, would be as cruel as the war itself.

At this precise moment, an extremely delicate meeting was taking place in the Oasis town hall. Present were Icarus and Miraj, and in their counterpart, the holoprojections of an ally, and of one who viewed the droid not very favorably.

Senator Organa was always pulling the strings behind the scenes. His political game in the Senate and the cards he moved under the table created a communications network that encompassed the entire resistance. Organa knew that this fight against the Imperial was unfair and exhausting, but he knew that his hands would not be pure after all these events. He knew of Icarus's role in this cause. However, the other figure present did not agree with the droid's methods. Well, it was Senator Mon Mothman herself.

Icarus: - I understand the situation, senators. But our modus operandi cannot change for the moment. -

Mon Mothman: - Their actions are harming many separatist worlds that are trying to gain some freedom in the Empire. Because of their actions, the former Separatists are now seen as a threat to the coexistence of the galaxy. -

Organa: - The Senate classifies his actions as: "Anarchist. Independent actions of a renegade military leader.¨ -

Icarus: - And for now it's better to keep it that way. We don't want the Empire to see us differently. -

Mon Mothman: - But if you continue to present yourself as a defender of anarchy, no one will be willing to support your cause. There is not much we can do to help you. -

Icarus: - I understand. However, I compute that this galaxy is not ready to use the word Rebellion to these attempts at resistance. -

Mon Mothman: - If people fight for a cause that seems just to them, they will be more willing to support that cause. -

Icarus: - That's right. However, there is a big difference in fighting against a military leader than fighting against a popular rebellion. -

Organa: - The general is right. As long as the Empire is focused on destroying the Separatist remnants, they will not pay attention to what we are trying to do. -

Icarus: - It's more than that, senator. We need to buy as much time as possible. -

Mon Mothman: - The contact is already on the way to the meeting point. I have to go now... I'll do my best to clean up your mess, General. -

Icarus: - And I appreciate it, senator. -

And after those words, the projection of Senator Mon Mothman ended, as apparently someone had approached to speak with her.

Icarus: - She worries me, senator. -

Organa: - The senator is faithful to this cause. I don't see it possible for him to betray us. -

Icarus: - It's not the betrayal that worries me. -

Organa: - So... What is it? -

Icarus: - His temper. Cruel times are ahead... I just hope the senator is able to understand the weight of the actions she is taking. -

Organa: - The senator is stronger than she looks. He just...needs to understand it. -

Icarus: - War is not a pleasant scenario. Millions die without knowing why... I am tangible proof of this. -

Organa: - Unfortunately, this is the galaxy in which we live. I must retire too, general. I wish the best of lucks. -

Icarus: - Same for you, senator. -

Once the meeting concluded, the doors of the room's windows opened, letting in the outside lighting and while the mysticism and darkness that ruled the room just a few seconds ago disappeared. And it was then, that Miraj let out an exhausted sigh.

Miraj: - You should tell them. -

Icarus: - Do you think it's wise? -

Miraj: - Sooner or later they will understand. And it won't be pleasant at all. -

Icarus: - It's better that it's late then. When this galaxy burns in flames, the hands of Organa and Mon Mothman will be the ones on which the greatest amount of blood will fall. When they understand all the deaths their actions will cause, their minds will abruptly break. And only they will be able to accept it, or sink into their own depression. -

Miraj: - I know that feeling. When the life of a people that is bleeding falls into your hands. It's not a pleasant feeling. -

Icarus: - Mayor, I leave the Oasis once again in your hands. We will leave immediately. -

Miraj: - Good luck on your trip, commander. -

And so, Icarus turned around, walking away from the table located in the center of the room, turning his back on the Zygerrian, who was left with a bitter taste in her mouth after this meeting. Icarus was about to leave the room, when Miraj's voice rose once again.

Miraj: - General. How long should we hold out? - He asked the droid, referring to what he himself told Senator Organa.

Icarus stopped suddenly. That was a very good question. A question for which he had no clear answer. Icarus slowly turned around and focused his optical sensors on the Zygerrian's eyes. Eyes that, although he showed great strength, longed with all his being to live in a galaxy in peace and harmony. A galaxy where you don't have to go to bed every night wondering if tomorrow you'd still have a warm place to raise your little ones. However, the response he would receive would not give him much hope.

Icarus: - As much as we can. - Was the only thing he said before continuing on his way.

Miraj could do nothing but let out an involuntary smile, although her eyes showed the sadness of hearing what she already knew. Something some in the shelter feared. Something Icarus was completely convinced of. Convinced since he took his first step in Mygeeto.

¨This was a war in which they could only resist. Victory was something impossible. The only thing they could do was give time to this Galaxy, and its future.¨

The droid headed to the hangars, where a small unit was already ready awaiting its arrival. The command droids and the Punitive Guard were ready and standing at attention, now numbering two companies of twenty units each. One under the command of Alpha and the other under Delta. The two magnaguards were waiting for orders, as well as the battalions of droids and organics that entered in an orderly manner inside the Munificent frigate.

Icarus: - I see that they are almost ready. -

Li Mu: General on deck! - The gossan's voice alerted everyone present.

Icarus: - Rest. We leave in fifteen minutes. Bly, TR-1, Li Mu, Cranel, Hawser and Holdo, you already know what to do. Be on standby and don't let your guard down. Foxley. Ready? -

Foxley: - Yes, general. -

Icarus: - Very good. Numa, Zeb. You will go with me to Ryloth to find our contact. Hopefully El Fantasma will go unnoticed by the border guard. -

Wag Too: - We already changed the ship's magnetic token. There should be no problems. -

Icarus: - And don't do anything stupid. -

Wag Too: - Yes, yes... The least I want is for Miraj to scold me again as if I were a child. -

Icarus: - Maybe it's a necessary evil. -

Wag Too: - Ey! -

A fleeting comment that let out a couple of laughs among those present. At least some time to release tension before leaving.

Icarus took advantage of the time he had left on land with Toba, who kept boasting about the good grades she had in literature subjects, although when the droid reminded her that she should deepen her science studies, she showed some displeasure. The brat learned stories and languages ​​as if it were about drinking water, but she had a hard time understanding numbers.

Finally the moment had arrived. The Munificent left the port and headed towards an unknown location, hidden from any Imperial eye. Meanwhile, the elite group consisting of Numa, Zeb, Foxley, Kurt, Icarus and the Magnaguards headed towards Ryloth, where Senator Mon Mothman's contact was supposedly located.

Despite the Imperial presence, Ryloth was always a major focus of rebel activity. His people longed for freedom, and their fight would not rest until they saw a Ryloth free of bondage. The rebel cell under Cham Syndulla was strong and organized, and the arrival of the Phantom as a supply carrier was like child's play.

Icarus and the magnaguards would stay on the ship, while Numa, Kurt, Zeb and Forxley would go to meet the contact. The lasat used a hood to go unnoticed despite their size, and the clone had to keep their face hidden, since the clones were already seen as possible threats to the empire given the constant blows inflicted by the remaining groups of clones under the leadership of the Captain Rex.

Hera: - I thought they would never arrive. -

Numa: - As impatient as always. -

Hera: - I thought that after so long you had forgotten about the city. -

Numa: - It's only been a year. How about Chopper? - The droid responded with happy beeps.

Hera: - This is the team? -

Numa: - That's right. This is Zeb, Kurt and Foxley. Pretty new, but they know what they're doing. -

Foxley: - Hey... -

Zeb: - A placer. -

The young Twi'lek was stunned when she saw the hooded man, because at least she expected to meet someone of her kind. Zeb and Hera exchanged glances for a moment, and they both felt a strange spark erupt between them. Not a spark of love or anything like that, but a spark of something more... As if destiny had prepared a future for them together as brothers in arms in this galaxy at war.

Hera: - A lasat... I didn't plan to see one again... Not after... You know. -

Zeb: - You won't even see him again... We'd better go somewhere else... I don't feel very comfortable with so many shells hanging around here. -

Hera: - Follow me... He is waiting for you. -

Hera guided the group to a more secluded location within the city, avoiding the main avenues as much as possible to stay away from prying Imperial eyes. If anyone suspected anything everything would fall apart.

Their journey took them to a house not far from the place, where they were greeted by a hooded man of about thirty or more years of age who responded to the code name of Contact. He was short on words, and apparently he was a little annoyed by the ten minute delay. Inside the apartment there were a few boxes and equipment, which everyone had to carry back to the ship. And once everyone was ready, they returned to the safety of space, accompanied by Hera, Chopper and Mon Mothman's contact, who had kept his identity hidden all this time.

Icarus: - At last we meet, Hera Cyndulla. -

Hera: - Wow... You're taller than I expected. -

Icarus: - All the models in my series are the same sizes. -

Hera: - That's not what... Well, it doesn't matter. I think we're ready. -

Icarus: - And you must be our contact. -

After Icarus's intervention, the man took a step forward, removing his hood and letting everyone see his face properly for the first time.

Contact: - I hope you are ready. This will be quite a lively trip. -