click...

click....

click...


As he moved down the hallway, Caleb couldn't help but wonder why the orderly wore shoes that made that loud noise. It was unsettling in such a place.

"Right this way, Mr. Golan. Its just up ahead." The female voice interrupted his thoughts, an unwanted intrusion when he already had so much on his mind.

He could see it now, the door at the end of the hallway. There was a small window near the top, and a ray of light was softly shining through, illuminating the surrounding area. Caleb took a deep breath as the smiling female doctor lead the way through the door into a large courtyard.

The place was filled with lush foliage, carefully maintained and presented. There were many benches and tables about where people could sit and talk, play games, or just try to relax and collect their thoughts.

And these people certainly want to do that... this is not where my father belongs. Caleb thought to himself, with a twinge of bitterness. He gripped his hand even more tightly to the one that was in it.

His wife, Julie, looked over at him with a nervous, yet sad, smile as they were lead to a specific table off to the side of the others.

There was an old man sitting there, dressed in the bland blue and green "uniform" that was the standard issue to all the "patients" here. He was staring intently at a large group of...

Are those toys?

He always was afraid to find out.

The toys were very small... and they looked quite old and outdated. Caleb saw AT-AT walkers, smaller AT-STs, old Juggernaughts, and countless little versions of soldiers, droids and clone troopers.

Is that what my father is reduced to? Caleb thought. Sadness welled up in his heart.

"Joren... you have visitors." The female doctor said, very softly.


Joren Logan, former Leader of the New Alliance, general of countless famous and infamous battles, and legendary soldier...


...ignored her.


He moved his old, frail hand and moved one of the walkers forward. Caleb, in his shock, recognized the positioning of the walkers as the "Logan Clutch", an old, and antiquated formation that his father has developed countless years ago during the ground war to take the planet Onyx.

He was completely ignorant of them, seemingly in his own universe. Caleb motioned for Julie to sit next to him, which she did. Caleb sat on the other side of his father, and touched his arm lightly.

Only now could he faintly hear the old man mumbling.

"...I don't care if they haven't switched to concussion missiles, Neychev, just tell them to take off. Fearsons will not get the better of us today... I want those turbolasers disabled. Now!"

"Dad?" Caleb ventured, hoping to wake his father from his stupor.

Joren now moved his hand from the toy walker and looked over at him. But in his eyes there was no recognition. Caleb saw only emptiness.

"Tell Fearsons that we will NOT surrender." Logan said, looking directly in Caleb's eyes.

Caleb felt his shoulders slump slightly. He looked at Julie and could almost fear the worry and sadness emanating from her. Caleb nodded slightly to himself and stood.

The female doctor motioned him to the side, out of earshot, "He is almost completely gone now. The medication and therapy are seemingly ineffectual. His mind has reverted to a state of constant...almost torment."

Caleb nodded, "My father went through a very hard life. He saw much, and experienced things I or you can only imagine."

The female doctor sat on a nearby bench, "I just wish there was something I could do for him. He gave so much for this planet, brought us stability and peace and prosperity that even I can't fully comprehend. Its sad to see that such a legend has been reduced to this."

"Maybe he is lost. Maybe this time forever."

The city was almost like a tiny version of Coruscant. Tall buildings holding the offices of many of the Galaxy's major arms and droid manufactures made their home on the almost completely-covered planet surface.

The reformed Galactic Banking Clan, Rejejo Arms, and it was thought that Vinda Corp as well held some sort of interest on the planet.

During the reign of the New Alliance under Regent Joren Logan, the moon flourished. It experienced rapid and accelerated economic growth due to the polices of Logan and his economics council. Unfortunately that growth was primarily based around the arms industry.

At the time, Logan was always needing new technologies and weapons for his foreign wars against the Rogue Empire under Chadd Fearsons. The two men were sworn enemies and many times New Alliance-controlled space was penetrated by the heavily armed and feared Rogue Imperial fleet. It was during those wars that the different companies on the planet made their initial successes. The New Alliance and later its principal ally, the Mon Calamari Republic, purchased huge quantities of weapons and material from the different companies based on Drewwa.

Due to the changing tides of galactic politics, the dissolution of the New Alliance and Mon Cal Republic, even the destruction of the New Republic, Drewwa had limped on. It never attained its former glory.

As the same factions and companies who once made the moon a flourishing jewel abandoned the moon for more lucrative opportunities, the place now felt more like a ghost town. Only a few low-to midlevel arms dealers still resided here, and with no real firm government, the moon was now dark and decrepit.

But, Joren Logan was, if anything, far-sighted. He picked his subordinates well. Marth Meer was one of the most well-known of all of Logan's former subordinates, yet very little was actually known about the man. He ran all the shadowy and black parts of the New Alliance. It was rumored he founded a secret service that few knew about that carried on the dirty work of Logan's government. Even "light-side" factions and kingdoms had skeletons in the closet, they all had a dark side. There was no avoiding it.

Meer was, at best, morally questionable. But since his work was almost always classified, there was very little to go on.

But, as Logan's son knew, Meer was very, very good at what he did in those days...






"You should never had contacted me. I don't care who your father is."

Caleb Logan's hand tightened around the hand grip of his blaster a little more tightly as he watched the skeleton approach, "Meer."

"Marth Meer is dead, unfortunately. I'm his agent." The skeleton said.

At least he looked like a skeleton. Perhaps six feet five inches tall, and probably weighing close to a hundred pounds at best, he was human, or near to it. His dark hair was worn in some sort of topknot and he wore ill-fitting dark clothes all military style. He was dirty and smelled even worse.

"Whats your name, then? I thought Marth Meer was meeting me here." Caleb said, eying the man closely.

"My name? I have a name..." His voiced trailed off as if he'd not heard that question in some time, "They used to call me Torpedo. And Marth Meer does not come to places such as these...especially in such evil and dark times."

"Torpedo? What kind of name is that?"

"Its what was given to me." Torpedo said simply with a bit of a shrug.

Caleb felt even more than a little uncomfortable, but he anticipated this being difficult, "Do you have what I asked for?"

"Yes." The skeleton man calling himself Torpedo fished around in his handbag for a moment before withdrawing a datacard, "I was bidden to inform you that if you were anyone else, you would be dead now for using the old network."

"I was simply astonished that it still existed. I found its location and how to use it in an old journal of my father's." Caleb said, taking the datacard from the outstreched hand.

"He left it wide open in a book for all to see?" Torpedo asked, incredulous.

"No. It was coded, but my father gave me the key for it a long long time ago. It was also partially burned."

"I see..." Torpedo hesitated for a moment, "How is Regent...I mean... your father? We heard things."

Caleb glared for a moment, "Why the sudden care for him?"

"I've never known such a leader. He was natural. We would have followed him to the edge of the galaxy if he had lead us there. He went before his time."

"He's not dead yet." Caleb said darkly.

There was a silence between the two for a moment, then Torpedo turned to leave, "One more thing. Marth Meer told me to give you a message to give to your father."

"What?"

"We're even, Joren."

Then the skeleton stalked off.

Caleb looked down at the datacard in his hand.

It was time for a few answers. Just what had happened to Joren Logan?