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Dorset Konnair was annoyed. She was a captain in the Special Missions branch of New Republic Starfighter Command. A respected officer, a trusted field agent, and fearsome pilot. She was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a page or a courier, and yet she had spent all day running halfway across Coruscant from one errand to the next. First, a message General Zessella wanted hand-delivered to an army general. Then, a starfighter that had finished repairs and needed to be picked up for Colonel Harleys. Then, an A-wing combat countermeasures class she was supposed to co-teach was postponed from last week to today. And now, even her mother had demanded her time, asking her to drop off an art piece at the client’s home after her transport had cancelled.
Behind the controls of her speeder, Dorset took a deep breath and released it slowly. She didn’t mind, not really. She loved her job, was happy to help her coworkers when they were in a bind, and would do anything for her mother. She reminded herself that starting tomorrow was the start of a much-needed vacation, in celebration of her birthday. Though she would have preferred an extended trip to some world she’d never visited, she hated not being on-hand on Coruscant in case of emergencies, and Starfighter Command hadn’t exactly made her rich, anyway. But a few quiet days at home would be nice all the same. Just a few more hours, she assured herself.
Twenty minutes later, the art piece was delivered to the massive, luxurious condominium where her mother’s client lived. Dorset and her family had once had a fancy home—granted, one that could have fit in the foyer of this one, but a sign of wealth all the same. Invasions, counter-invasions, regime changes, and recessions had seen the end of that. Now she lived in a small apartment with her mother—not that she was unhappy with it. She’d always bristled at the opulence of Coruscant’s upper crust, and it was refreshing to have just what she needed. But there was a part of her that missed the opportunities she’d had then.
Finally, it was time to return to base, per General Zessella’s orders. He’d booked her for a meeting all afternoon—she’d barely skimmed the title of the event, something budget-related and exceedingly boring—but had asked her to stop by the hangar to retrieve Colonel Harleys first. She gunned her engines, pushing her speeder well past legal limits as she raced in the open air back toward Special Missions headquarters. Dorset allowed herself a smile as her hair whipped around her face. Errands aren’t all bad.
She settled her speeder into her assigned spot in the vehicle bay below the hangar and took the turbolift up. She was just idly playing on a datapad when the doors opened, but she suddenly felt eyes on her. She looked up, expecting the normal bustling view of the SM hangar, mechanics and pilots hard at work, but instead the place was mostly empty.
A few starfighters and shuttles were against the walls of the hangar, but the floor was emptier than she’d ever seen it. At the center of the empty floor was the Z-95 Headhunter she was typically assigned on missions and an odd-looking X-wing. And surrounding the two starfighters were a half-dozen tables laden with food and thirty of the people she knew best, smiling and looking smug.
Dorset barked out a laugh. Her friends and family called out “Happy birthday!” then joined her in laughter as they made their way toward her, embracing her in hug after hug. Her mother first, then her little brother, then General Zessella—normally so reserved—and Colonel Harleys. Dwellet and Conorr squeezed her between them, and as they parted she was greeted by a rare smile from the big, furry Trunsk she’d come to love and trust, Gesigesta. He wrapped her up in his long arms, and she couldn’t stop laughing.
As the eclipse of Ges’s body cleared her field of vision, two black-clad figures stood before her, one looking considerably more excited than the other. Dorset put her hands on her hips. “Colonel Vessery. What in the name of the Force are you doing on Coruscant?”
Vessery gave a stiff bow, and one corner of his mouth rose in a smile. Behind him, Trement nodded, with the slightest hint of amusement on her face. “Your commanding officer made a tempting offer, Captain Konnair,” Vessery said.
“Specifically, cake,” Trement added with an arched eyebrow.
Dorset shook her head, then shook Trement’s hand. She greeted a few more of her friends, then realized there was someone important she’d ignored. She made her way over to the Headhunter, lay her hand on its nose, and keyed on her earpiece. “Hi, Chirpa.”
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” came the voice of the starfighter’s droid brain in her ear. “I do hope you are enjoying the surprise.”
“Of course I am, my friend. Wait. Did…did you do this?”
There was silence in her earpiece for a moment. “Not alone, ma’am. I originated the idea and organized the deception. Many others were responsible for its execution.”
Dorset looked around at all the people who’d gathered for her. Her mother was showing Harleys the proper way to slice a side of nerf. Zessella was gesturing wildly to Gesigesta, undoubtedly regaling him with an old battle story. Vessery and Trement were meeting far too many of Dorset’s comrades, and her comrades were having far too much fun with it. She smiled.
“Don’t you want to know why that X-wing is here?”
Dorset’s head whipped around to the voice behind her. She immediately burst into laughter and threw out her arms. “Captain Mayn!”
Todra Mayn stepped into her arms. “Commander Mayn, actually.”
“Congratulations, ma’am!”
Todra stepped away, keeping her hands on Dorset’s shoulders. “Okay, that’s weird. Todra, please. You’re not my subordinate anymore, Dorset.”
“No ma’am—uh, no Todra, I’m not. It’s so good to see you. And you’re right. I do want to know what that X-wing is doing here.” Arm in arm, Dorset and Todra walked over to the starfighter.
“Look closely, Dorset. I know you’re not an X-wing pilot but you know this design.”
“Of course. And this one is…different. New? The astromech slot is more streamlined. The laser cannons are clearly an updated design. And I think the ship is a little smaller overall.”
“All true, and that’s only scratching the surface.”
“This,” said General Zessella, coming up on her other side, “is the new XJ model. It is still technically experimental, though several dozen units have made their way into Starfighter Command.”
“Only high-ranking officers can requisition them, though,” said Colonel Harleys. “The fact that we’re even looking at this thing in person is miracle enough.”
General Zessella grinned evilly, an unsettling sight. “But standing here before you is a high-ranking officer, Captain Konnair. High-ranking enough to borrow an XJ for one of his agents to conduct a secret mission.”
Dorset’s heart sank. “You brought me here, the day before my birthday, to tell me I’m being sent on a secret mission in lieu of my much needed vacation?”
Tammin Konnair snaked her arm around Dorset’s waist and leaned her head on her shoulder. “The mission is my contribution, starlight. The destination is Calameen Spire Resort on the mountainous moon of Drasna, and the objective is to relax. For once.”
“Mom! We can’t afford that!”
Tammin clicked her tongue. “Perhaps not. But we didn’t pay for it. I still have connections, starlight. And wealthy people still owe me favors.”
Harleys approached the XJ. “This model,” he said, almost reverently, “pulls some of the tightest turns I’ve ever seen. Its targeting computer can get a lock from twice the distance that the T-65 can. There’s a third proton torpedo launcher under here, and I’ve seen footage of its shields absorbing a turbolaser blast.”
“What he’s trying to say,” General Zessella said as he handed over a code cylinder, “is ‘have fun.’”
“But first,” Todra said, swinging Dorset around to face the burgeoning party, “have fun here, with all your gathered friends and allies.”
Vessery had gotten a comlink from someone and was chatting with Chirpa, while Trement showed off her blaster to Gesigesta. Dorset’s brother sat wide-eyed while Dwellet and Conorr tag-teamed a war story. Zessella unabashedly trotted off toward one of the food tables, and Todra raised her eyebrows at Dorset before following him. Tammin wiped a tear from Dorset’s eye, and Dorset pretended to be annoyed.