It was a week after what was now know being known as the Isard Debacle. A week previous Sith Squadron had been at full strength, twelve Dark Side pilots who were ready to take on the entire galaxy by themselves. Twelve pilots who were cocky enough that they couldn't be stopped by twelve Death Stars and a thousand Star Destroyers.

But now.......

Now everything was different. There were only six pilots in Sith Squadron, and all of their egos had been sufficiently shattered. For the most part they just moped around the ship, drunk as could be and running into walls. Well, that was what they used to do, but now it was even more so.

Lord Baron Reno sat behind his desk, which was much larger than it really needed to be. It also sat slightly elevated so whoever was sitting opposite of him had to look up to see him. An intimidation attempt, though whether it actually worked on the Siths he didn't know.

They hadn't had any missions since the Rudrig/Endor disaster. There hadn't really been any need for one. First of all, the Siths were rich enough that they could each buy a planet and retire. But they were all young and retirement would be so......boring. The thrill of fighter combat was just too addictive for any of them to let go of so easily.

The other reason for the lack of missions was their lack of personnel. While six Dark Side pilots could normally take out just about any target, Reno just wasn't so sure of his pilots anymore. They've lost their edge, he thought sorrily to himself, I've lost my edge. He didn't know when he had lost it, but he had. The events on Endor had been a painful lesson to him in that regard. Reno should've killed Antilles when he had the chance....

A gentle knock on his door startled him. Reno's eyes narrowed. That was odd, people never knocked on his door. They either banged on it until the door opened, or just barged in. But they never knocked. Ever. Slightly intrigued, Reno pushed the button on his desk and the door opened.

In walked Seven Upper Room, commonly called Seven by the Siths. He had been assigned to the Rudrig team. Seven had actually led the assault that had gotten both LifeFlame and Sharpedges killed. Seven had taken that pretty hard, putting both of their deaths on his head. He figured that if he would've led them better they would still be here now, which was probably true, Reno thought, but then again it was probably true about himself. Maybe if he had been a better leader than he wouldn't have lost half a squadron in a few days.

"What is it, Seven?" he asked. The Bakuran pilot seemed almost nervous, which Reno thought was odd. The man was as fearless as every other Sith here. What could make him nervous?

"Umm, sir, I was...that is....I probably should have told you this earlier, but I was debating it, sir." Seven was stammering and stuttering, something that he also didn't normally do. "Tell me what, Seven?"

Seven took a deep breath. "On Rudrig I sensed someone very strong in the Force. A pilot, too."

A smiled brightened on Reno's face. "Well, this is good!" he erupted. "Not only Force-strong but a pilot too. Exactly what we need. Why didn't you tell me this before? With our lack of pilots it would...."

"He's a Rogue," Seven muttered.

Reno sighed and shook his head slightly. When they were fighting Isard's strike force Reno had thought he sensed someone strong in the Force, but he couldn't tell if it was one of the Rogues or if it was only his apprentice Jace Sidrona. Guess it was one of the Rogues.

"I can see why you didn't come forward immediately," he softly said. "Do you know who it was?"

Seven shook his head. "It was either Beruss, Ardele, Plo'kre, or Nel. Those were the Rogues present when I sensed it. They were all grouped together, though, I couldn't pick out which one it was for sure. But one of them definitely is Force-strong."

Sighing Reno reached over and started typing on his datapad. He brought up the file that listed all of the Rogues and their call signs and flight numbers. "Well it can't be Nel, he's dead. I also sensed someone strong in the Force when we were fighting Isard's forces. It had to be someone in one flight, then. Let's see.....not Antilles, not Xarcce....ah....." Reno touched several buttons and brought up a file. "Yes, this would be our man."

Seven leaned in closer to glare at the datapad screen, his eyes narrowing as he saw the picture. "Him?" he said, not fully believing it. "That can't be right."

"No, it is," Reno confirmed. "I sensed him during the dogfight. But he was flying so close to Sidrona I couldn't actually get a good reading. And he was also there during your assault on Rudrig. Like it or not this is our guy."

"The Siths aren't going to like this, sir, I'm not exactly sure I like this. I mean, I know that we're hurting for people, but do we really want a Rogue flying with us? There is a lot of hostilities between us. I'm not sure that he would be safe flying with us."

"No one would dare touch him," Reno protested. "Especially not after I tell them not to. But you are right, this won't sit well with the rest of the Siths."

"So I take it from that we'll be going after him."

"Yes. We need more people and I think he'd make a fine addition to Sith Squadron. The only problem is getting to him."

"Well, and then if he doesn't want to join."

Reno smiled, an evil smile that sent shivers down the bravest men's spines. Seven had to resist taking a step back. "Trust me, my friend, he will have no choice in the matter."

"It was reckless," Wedge Antilles told him for like the thousandth time. Narska Plo'kre shifted uncomfortably. The Bothan stood at rigid attention, his violet eyes locked on his commanding officer. Wedge Antilles was a typical Corellian - arrogant and cocky, regardless of what anyone said otherwise. Narska sighed inwardly as Antilles continued the assault on his character. "Reckless, dangerous, and stupid! You can't just go around blowing up speeders. You could have injured civilians, or worse, you could've injured one of your fellow Rogues....."

It was about then that Narska lost himself in his own thoughts, pushing Wedge Antilles stern voice out of his mind. Narska had heard all this before. That was the reason that he had been forced out of Pages Commandos. He was undisciplined, couldn't be controlled, and was a general smart ass. He was insubordinate and didn't follow orders, often making up his own rules and causing a lot of damage in the process. It was that kind of recklessness that had earned him the nickname "The Mad Bomber". At least that was what Page had told him. And that was also what Antilles was telling him here. Humans, both of them. That was why this talk was taking place. If Narska was a human he probably would've been given a medal or a promotion for quick thinking. But since he was a Bothan he was being yelled at and put on a temporary suspension. That was why Narska wasn't paying any attention, he had heard this same speech before and every time it had been unwarranted.

It burned at the back of Narska's mind. He was being condemned for saving three Rogues lives, and Wes Janson, who had almost single-handedly doomed their mission by courting the enemy, wasn't even on any type of house arrest. Had the situations been reversed Janson would be getting promoted and Narska would be getting kicked out of the New Republic Military. Guess it paid to be best friends with your commanding officer. Janson probably could've taken his X-wing and strafed the capitol of Rudrig without any recriminations. Hmph....humans.

"....do you have anything to say, Flight Officer Plo'kre?" he heard Antilles ask him. Narska contemplated just shaking his head and saying no, but he was too angry for that.

"Yes I do, sir," he said, injecting a little more sarcasm into his voice than he intended to. "First off, your treatment of me is unfair, and might I say, a bit prejudiced. Were I a human this conversation would not have happened. You would've pinned a medal on me and given me command of my own squadron. But because I'm a Bothan, because I'm a non-human, you've decided to punish me. I resent what your doing, I resent it strongly. You know my actions saved the lives of Beruss, Feylis, and Nel, but you're overlooking that because I caused a little collateral damage in the process. So what if I damaged a speeder? The ends justified the means. Because of what I did we have three less dead Rogues, although Nel died during..."

"That's enough, Flight Officer Plo'kre," Antilles interrupted. "Because I don't think you're in the correct frame of mind right now I'm going to forget those last statements, although I will remind you that some of them border on insubordination. And as for your punishment...a week of house arrest ought to do. You are confined to your quarters and are not to leave, unless in the company of a military guard. And that does mean you are excluded from the simulators. Have you anything else to add to this, Plo'kre?"

Narska gritted his sharp-edged teeth. Once again human oppression of aliens was coming into play. Despite what the New Republic said it was almost as bad as the Empire. Humans ran the Republic, just as they did the Empire. Maybe if a Bothan was the Chief-of-State things would be different.....

But that isn't going to happen any time soon, he thought as he glared at his commanding officer. "No sir, I don't have anything else to add," he muttered.

Antilles nodded. "Then you're dismissed. Your one week house arrest starts the second you leave this office. Now I don't expect to see you for a week, Plo'kre, so I'd better not. And keep in mind that you will be watched, so don't think you can break your house arrest."

"I wouldn't even think it, sir. Can I go now?"

For a long few seconds they just stared at each other, their eyes locked. Narska wanted desperately to say more, he wanted to lash out at Antilles for giving him an unfair punishment, but he held down his rage and stood his ground.

"Dismissed."

Narska forced a salute then turned and left Antilles office. With his face in an angry gridlock, Narska Plo'kre stormed towards his quarters, the place where he would be spending the next week. Antilles wasn't even going to let him use the simulator complex. Completely confined to his quarters. If he wanted to go out and get something to eat he'd have to do it in the presence of MP's. Narska sighed and shook his head. This wouldn't be happening if he was a human...........

"Lord Baron, you have got to be kidding!" JeniViolet yelled. They were sitting in the squadron briefing room, all six remaining members of Sith Squadron. Reno sat at the head of the table, as usual, with JeniViolet, Jace Sidrona, and Seven on the right side, and ThunderingSilence and PalinKD on the left side. And as focused as Reno was on the argument his steel gray eyes were drawn to the six empty seats around the table.

"I am not kidding, Lieutenant," he calmly said. "Narska Plo'kre was sensed by both Seven and I, on two separate occasions. He is a pilot, a good one, and he shows enough Force-potential...I think he would be a very good replacement pilot. Why, do you think otherwise?"

"Do I think otherwise?" Jen snarled. "Plo'kre was the one that rigged that speeder to blow on Rudrig. He killed LifeFlame, my wingman. There is no way that I'll allow him into the squadron."

Reno let out a short bark of laughter. "That isn't your choice, Lieutenant. If I want him in the squadron he will be in the squadron. Plain and simple. And since you are the only member of the squadron without a wingman right now, when he does join he'll be in three flight."

"What!?" Jen erupted, so angry that she shot to her feet and slapped her palms on the table. "You can't be serious! This man..no, no...he's not even a man, he's a Bothan. That creature killed my wingman, there is no way, no way I am going to fly with him on my wing. The idea is ludicrous."

"First off, sit down and calm yourself." Reno waited for JeniViolet to take her seat before he continued. "And yes I am serious. Try and get past your immediate anger and look at the bigger picture. Narska Plo'kre killed a Sith, not one of our stronger ones, mind you, but a Sith nevertheless. He is a superior pilot, a skilled demolitions expert, and is Force-strong."

"That's all well and dandy, but he is a member of Rogue Squadron. I doubt that he'll just come running because you ask him to."

"Ah, Jen, that's where you're wrong. According to New Republic records he was just put on house arrest for that car explosion of Rudrig. He's holding a lot of resentment towards Antilles.and probably the New Republic in general. We can use that hostilities for our advantage. Trust me on this one, Plo'kre would make a nice addition to Sith Squadron. And I'm sure that he could teach us a few things about ground work, too. The incidents on Endor and Rudrig have shown us that despite what some of you think we do have problems fighting on the ground. I'm sure with his experience in Pages Commandos he could teach us some things that will keep us alive. Now I don't want to hear any more of this, Lieutenant."

Jen shook her head. "I still don't like this," she muttered.

"Well unfortunately your likes and dislikes are irrelevant," he said sarcastically.

"If it'd be all right, Lord Baron, I'd like permission to leave. I don't want to have anything to do with this Bothan. He doesn't belong with us...he'll never be a Sith Lord."

"And neither will you, my dear, with an attitude like that. Now go on, get out of here. The rest of us will plan the capture. Go get drunk or something."

Jen didn't even bother responding as she left the room. Reno had said the last part of the sentence in a light tone, hoping to sooth over any hurt feelings or emotions between the two. But it didn't seem to work. JeniViolet really didn't want Plo'kre in Sith Squadron. Well, that wasn't her decision to make. She'd just have to live with it.

"So what do the rest of you think?" he asked.

"I think his credentials are great," Thunder said. "He's got a lot of valuable experience in both ground and space..." she trailed off.

"But...?"

"I do kind of agree with Jen, though not so vehemently. While I do think he would be a great asset to Sith Squadron, I'm not sure I really want him here. He was responsible for the death of a Sith. It wouldn't be right to go around and disgrace the memory of LifeFlame by bringing in his murderer." She had a point, he had to agree.

"Seven?" he asked.

"I say bring him in," the young man said, leaning forward. "We could use all the Force-trained pilots we can get. Besides, what Plo'kre did he did in the line of duty, just as any of us would've done." Another good point.

"Palin?"

"I'm with Jen and Thunder," she said adamantly. "I think it would be a big mistake to bring him in the squad."

"Jace?" he asked, even though he was sure he knew the answer.

"I think he would prove to be in invaluable asset, Master," Sidrona said. Reno almost laughed. Sidrona agreed with whatever Reno said, it didn't matter how ludicrous it was. Such blind faith was both refreshing and disturbing. It was nice compared to the skepticism he was used to, but he also didn't think that trust had any place in the life of a Sith.

"So we're deadlocked," he said, exasperation pushing it's way into his voice. "Jen, Thunder and Palin are against Plo'kre joining, while Seven, Jace and I are all for him joining. You all know how we solve deadlocks in the squadron...."

Thunder smiled and jumped to her feet. "I'll grab the shot glasses!"

It was an hour later now, and three of the Sith Squadron members had already passed out. Jace Sidrona, Seven and Palin were already laying face down on the floor, leaving only Reno and Thunder left in the contest. The rules were simple, the last person left unconscious was the way the deadlock went. So all Reno had to do was out drink Thunder and they'd start making plans on bringing Narska Plo'kre into Sith Squadron. Well...after they sobered up that was.

"...yyyooou 'ad 'nuff?" he asked ThunderingSilence, who stooped groggy eyed over the table.

"I..............don't...........don't...........know the..........meaning .......of.............of...................what were we talking about?"

"Aaaaa don' know. 'ere, take 'nother one. 'Is yourrr turrrn."

Thunder filled the shot glass full of Whyren's and for a long time stared at it. Reno couldn't figure out if she was wondering whether to drink another one or if she was almost passed out. Finally she lifted the glass and sucked down it's contents. "Aa tol' you b'fore....I don't give up....evva..."

"Guess it's my turn...now...." Reno weakly said. Truth was the Whyren's was wreaking serious havoc on him. His speech was slurred, his vision blurry, his mind clouded, his arms trembling. If he wasn't already sitting down he would've long ago fallen on his butt. Reno wasn't the greatest drinker in Sith Squadron, this he had acknowledged many times. He may be the greatest Dark Side presence the galaxy ever would see, but as a drinker he was fairly average.

Reno hefted his glass and stared at it for what seemed like eternity. He really didn't want to take this last shot, he really didn't think he could take it. But he couldn't give up, not in front of his squadron. Well, not that any of them were even conscious.....

Pushing second thoughts away Reno drank the liquor in the glass. Reno's heart stopped as the sweet liquor rolled down his throat. Oh man...now that...

Thump!

Reno had no idea what happened at first, but when he heard Thunder cheering in victory he assumed that the thumping sound had been his head bouncing off of the table.

"I wiiiin....yooouuuu lose," Thunder mocked him. "Narska Plo'kre is not gonna be joining Sith Squadron I'm afraid, all because you can't out drink your Second-in-Command.....that's pretty sad, Lord Baron. I mean...even though you want that Bothan here he isn't going to be here, just cuz you can't hol' yer' liquor...Ha ha! Narska Plo'kre......"

It was then that Reno sprung into action. Although he was very drunk he was still capable of fighting. He grabbed one of the lightsabers on his waist and jammed the end into Thunders skull. His finger hovered ominously over the activation switch. ThunderingSilence eyed him carefully then wisely finished her sentence,

"......is going to be the next Sith." She held out her hand, which was trembling ever so slightly, and grasped Reno's other hand. "Congratulations on winning, sir, once again your sportsmanship is an example to us all."

Reno pulled back his lightsaber and clipped it back to his belt. "A wise decision, Captain Thunder. Just keep one thing in mind.......Reno always wins."

Continued...