“Approaching at vector 33.096. Estimated time until arrival, T-minus twenty three minutes and counting.” Captain Fivies announced to his bridge in a perfect, expressionless voice. Rather mechanically, the thirty seven year old Naboo Sith Order commissioner turned his attention from the Star Destroyer’s closed net communications system to a cleaning droid polishing the new ship’s spotless floor.

“Hello, little one,” Fivies crouched down, allowing the cleaning droid’s small optical sensor to sweep over his face. Extending his index finger, Fivies touched the petty droid’s back and scratched gently. Though the droid certainly could not feel the rub—maid robots had clearly defined programming just for housekeeping—the droid displayed its understanding of the gesture by stretching its optical sensor into the air like a dog being petted.

Fivies was a peculiar one. Something seemed amiss in him, but neither the governors of the Naboo Sith Order nor his crew could place just what was wrong with Fivies. Maybe it was his manner: he was always talking with droids, especially the Military Relations Cyborg Models. It could have been his style of speech: he talked calm and concise, even in the heat of battle or pressure.

The main thing about Fivies, though, that irked his crew the most was the matter of ingenuity. The officer lacked any creative thoughts… Fivies was a textbook when it came to military protocol, waging war and executing tasks. Hell, getting a glass of water was even mundane for Fivies. This shortcoming prevented Fivies from being promoted farther than captain; beyond the rank of captain, one really needed ingenuity to succeed.

“Hey, Fivies, sir! Come look at this,” a young, soon to be brilliant tactical officer named Gork Joyce hailed the Captain, informally.

Turning on his heel to face young Tactical Officer Gork, Fivies responded, “What is it, Tactical Officer Joyce?”

“The envoy, sir, they’ve formed into a thirty breaker hyperspace formation, according to my calculations.” Gork said enthusiastically.

“Is your assignment to calculate useless mathematical formations for the ships pleasure, Officer Joyce?” Fivies replied, raising an eyebrow.

Gork rolled his chair back around to face his computer screen, “No sir. I have duties to monitor tactical formations according to Imperial Naval Handbook Chapter 37, Section C, Fifth Paragraph.”

“Good answer, Tactical Officer. Return to your assigned duties.” Fivies gave no encouragement to Gork’s creativity. Annoyed, but not discouraged, Gork returned to his insignificant duties. Fivies seemed so robotic all the time to Gork. He almost seemed unlike a person. Unfortunate, that budding young minds like Gork’s must be wasted in Fivies’ service.

Fivies lost himself in unidirectional subconscious mind flow after his confrontation with Gork. He dreamed in binary code, series of 1’s and 0’s flew past the captain’s closed eyes, now shuttering many times per second.

“Sir…” Voice processing… Identity Confirmed…

“Wake up sir…” Command… Execute: System Start up…

Fivies’ eyelids flashed open, revealing his dark pupils. Blinking twice, Fivies looked around to see the system command executor. His eyes settled on a dashing young woman fitting under the “half plus seven” dating rule. If he felt natural emotions, Fivies would have most definitely courted his lesser officer, Natasha of the ruling Kuat family.

His younger by eight years, Natasha dazzled Fivies, if that was possible considering Fivies background. Brunette hair fell over Natasha’s gentle shoulders, cresting with undertones of blonde highlights. She had a slender face, constantly forcing her to take one of her hands to curl her hair out of her face.

“Good Afternoon, Captain.” Her voice danced on the borderline of flirtatious. She placed her hand on Fivies’ knee; definitely flirting. “We’ll be arriving soon at Yag’Dhul.” She rubbed her hand a little bit over his quadriceps in an encouraging, loving way.

Signs indicate… Flirting. Activate smile and red hue facial coloring… Fivies smiled widely. He felt best when he was with Natasha and at those times, he displayed signs of ingenuity and humanity.

“All right, Natasha.” Finally… Fivies broke his formality barrier. Natasha smiled; Her teeth gleamed perfectly in the reflection of the artificial light shining above her.

“Great, Josh! The bridge’ll be expecting some report from you soon.” Natasha leaned over, her bust perfectly visible to Fivies, and kissed Fivies lightly on the lips. She disengaged her lips very quickly and jogged off to her main duties.

Processing new feeling… Feeling analyzed… Good Feeling.

Josh Fivies, Human Replica Droid, was in love with the female human, Natasha.

But can droids love?

Fivies stood up, walking over to the Star Destroyers’ inter communications system. Flipping the Public Announcement system on, Fivies abandoned his monotone voice as he addressed the star destroyer, “Loyal crews men and crews women of the Star Destroyer Advance Plebian, we will be approaching our target of Yag’Dhul in the hour. Please take your battle stations, as I would like the takeover to be efficient so we can all be on our merry shore leave. Everyone knows the drill, so I wish you all luck. Five minutes…”

He kept his speech short and concise for a reason: any higher thinking would distract him from his new interest, Natasha. She was spellbinding, breathtaking. Oh, Fivies hoped this takeover would go smoothly so he could just sit and ogle Natasha’s beauty. His faith had been placed in his crew, his heart in Natasha.

The star lines faded from hyperspace stars to real space stars. Between the myriad of stars, Yag’Dhul and its three moons were framed. The planet rotated in a 175 hour retrograde while the moons each revolved around the extremely small planet once every 53 hours.

Fivies paid no attention to the starfighters being dropped from his fleet—two squadrons from each of the three Star Destroyer Advances. The squadrons accelerated to disable the Yag’Dhul defenses. Quickly, the defenses of the planet fell with the help from energy barrages from the three Star Destroyer Advances.

“Captain Fivies, Starfighter screen reports success.” Gork reported to Fivies.

“Thank you Gork. Keep up the amazing work. Send the pilots my personal congratulations.” Fivies replied as the Star Destroyer Advances began deploying the troop drop ships. To ensure capturing the ground, the drop ships contained amphibious versions of the popular AT series assault vehicles. They landed in the turbulent Yag’Dhul waters unscathed and began the complex task of securing the exotic Yag’Dhul planet.

Meanwhile, the Star Destroyer Advances also launched twelve transports to set up military facilities on each of Yag’Dhul’s three moons. Four troop ships went to each moon.

Fivies noticed none of the actions going on around him. He had practically ceased to exist. His crew was running so efficiently, they did not even need Fivies to direct them. If they had needed Fivies, he probably would not have been much help: his mind was preoccupied with one thought, Natasha of Kuat.

She’s so beautiful… So tender… So not naïve… Everything is perfect about her… Not even the droid works on Ord Mantell could produce such a fine specimen. Gasp! She’s walking over to me!

Her hips swaying in that mesmerizing way, Natasha walked towards Fivies. Fivies droid mind went wild. It sent the false image that Natasha was running her hands through her beautiful brunette head of hair, tousling the hair into a light hearted appearance. More, Fivies dreamed that Natasha had begun groping her own body and placing her finger in her mouth, licking it.

But in reality, Natasha only did the latter of the daydreams—the finger licking. Still, that was something. Fivies smiled widely, feeling more human than he had ever felt in his entire on time. She took her finger out of her mouth and extended that same hand to reach Fivies. “Congrats, Commander. Yag’Dhul has fallen to our forces. You deserve a special party.”

Natasha lifted Fivies from his chair with her hand and led him to the quarters sector of the Star Destroyer Advance. With a hiss, the door to her private quarters slid open, the two walking through the door. Oh, how crazy it was that two had gone off on a fling during a mammoth takeover of Yag’Dhul. They say droids can’t love. Whoever said that should get their brain reprogrammed. Fivies loved Natasha, and Fivies loved loving Natasha.


Fivies emerged from Natasha’s quarters a changed human replica droid. He was almost a real man, but not quite. Even in his mind, Fivies doubted that even the best Sith Sorcery could make him a real man, a man good enough to have the lovely Natasha. But, he would try as hard as he could to become a real man and be that great man worthy of the lovely Natasha.

He strolled back to the bridge at a leisurely pace. He shook hands with any member of the Star Destroyer Advance’s crew whenever he passed one.

I am happy, feeling kind of glad. Got sunshine in a bag.

Fivies whistled the tune as he walked also. When he reached the bridge, he shook more hands and talked personally to each member of the bridge crew. He did not accept the congratulatory remarks for securing Yag’Dhul; instead he congratulated the crew. It wasn’t like he did much in the takeover, right?

“Gork, my protégé, please prepare a shuttle for me and the Kuati Natasha. I shall court her on the planet.” Fivies kindly ordered Gork to fulfill the minuscule job. Gork happily obliged, noting something had changed in Captain Fivies.

“Sir, the shuttle awaits you in berth fifty. Shall I contact Miss Natasha for you?” Gork asked, equally polite.

“No, Gork. I will fetch her myself. Thank you, my boy.” Fivies shook Gork’s hand, the five hundredth hand in the past hour, and walked out of the bridge. He took the same path back to Natasha as the path he took to the bridge, this time at a more brisk pace. He could not contain his child like giddiness. Love was like that sometimes.

Reaching Natasha’s door, he knocked twice. The door slid open, revealing a Natasha even more lovely looking than Fivies could remember. “Come, my lady. We are going to tour the planet we have conquered, Yag’Dhul.” Fivies smiled to his love.

“Yes!” Natasha jumped into Fivies arms and began pelting the captain with affectionate kisses. Carrying Natasha in his strong arms, Fivies took Natasha to berth fifty where a stunning Lambda Class Shuttle awaited. It probably was not that stunning of a Lambda Class Shuttle, but when in love, everything shines more vibrantly.

The two entered the shuttle, named Goshawk, hand in hand. With a polite action, the star ship captain pulled out one of the shuttle’s seats and let his lady sit down in it. She landed softly on the black leather of the chair and sat pretty, back erect and legs crossed. Her Naboo Sith Order military uniform wrinkled slightly as she crunched her body to form to the seat.
Man! Did she look beautiful! Just sitting there, her eyes gazing into mine…

He reached out to give Natasha a back rub but stopped himself. Now was not the time. Once on Yag’Dhul, there would be plenty of time. Fivies held back his urges. “Lambda shuttle Goshawk, piloted by Josh Fivies and Natasha, requesting permission to enter Yag’Dhul space and requesting vector coordinates to reach the planet.”

“Copy that, Goshawk. Please stand by for your entrance vectors,” came the answer from interim Yag’Dhul space
control. A series of data scrolled pass on the shuttle’s computer screen with the requested vectors.

Natasha peered down at the numbers and spoke in to the communications array, “Received, Space Control. I am reading the vectors back for confirmation: Exit Vector Four Oh Three Three Six Point Nine Seven Two, Entrance Vector Five One Four Four Eight Point One One Six Three. Confirm?”

There was a pause as the space control checked the numbers, “That is correct Lady Natasha. Your shuttle may proceed immediately.” The link to space control clicked out, and Fivies and Natasha were alone once again.

“Come fly with me, Natasha,” Fivies motioned for his woman to sit in his lap. She slipped onto him quickly and winked at him. “Did they teach you how to fly one of these ancient pieces back in Kuat?”

Opening her mouth and raising her eyebrows in shock, she played the dumb blonde role, “Why, no! I’ve never seen one of these things in my life. Wow! Look at this big flight stick!” She reached down and grabbed the flight stick. “What ever do I do with this? Show me, please!”

He placed his arms over hers and maneuvered his hands over hers. Talking soothingly, “Now, just let your hands go a little loose. Make sure you hold it firmly, though. Like this.” He guided her hands over the flight controls. It sure felt good having her sit on his lap.

She shoved the flight stick forward, and the ship lurched forward, knocking the two off their seats and on to the floor, on top of each other. Her chest heaved in unison with Fivies’ chest; her breath tickled his whiskers; and her scent teased his nose.

It smelled faintly of warm vanilla sugar. It smelt so sweet! So sweet, Fivies’ senses could barely handle the sensation.

He sneezed… on Natasha. She jumped off of him, laughing as the snot covered her face. Rolling on the floor laughing, Natasha flashed her brilliant teeth; and he could not keep himself from joining in the laughing. They both rolled over the floor, knocking heads and body parts as they giggled at their botched up moment.

They got up happily and returned to their seats as Fivies put the ship into a gradual descent towards Yag’Dhul. Waves tormented the planet, making it appear to look like the mythical, fabled planet Devil’s Sapphire. That planet did not exist on star charts, and many had lost countless years searching for that planet.

Maybe someday Fivies would take Natasha for a fling on that planet, if he could find out where it was located.

For now, he shoved that thought aside and concentrated on navigating to the single, constantly pressurized military compound on the planet. It required avoiding crashing waves and speed fluctuations from pockets of vacuum. Tough flying, but nothing he could not handle.

By the time they had reached the compound, Natasha was green with sickness from high maneuver flying. Getting off the Lambda shuttle, Fivies wrapped his arm around her and gently supported her as they walked towards the nearest refresher station. He opened the door for her, and the two entered the stall. Natasha promptly fell to her knees and began vomiting in the stall’s toilet. Finishing after a minute, she washed her face and mouth in the sink. She felt much better.

And man! She still looked beautiful.

Yag’Dhul was known for its pockets of vacuum, where no atmosphere existed and few could live without assistance of machines or technological achievements. Somehow, over the many years, the inhabitants of Yag’Dhul adapted to their extreme environment and are able to live on the planet without any of the burdens of technology or the burdens of space suits.

They had even adapted so much to their ever-changing environment that they built great cities that moved in sync with the spasmodic sea currents.

The great cities of Yag’Dhul were currently situated on the opposite hemisphere of the military compound. “My lady, we have two options to reach the great cities. We can fly or take a boat. Both will be very turbulent. Which would you prefer?”

Despite both being hard travels, this one was a no-brainer for Natasha, “The boat, dear Josh. I can not stand to take another flight after that first one.”

Fivies smiled at his girlfriend’s choice. The boat would give the two much more time to spend together.



The days on Yag’Dhul had grown cold, dark and bleak since the Naboo Sith Order had begun their invasion of the Givin’s home world. The dark necromancer of the turbulent southern seas had foreseen this cold spell coming, and he had, in part, brought it upon the planet. It was his dark presence that was cast about through subtle Force messages across many light years that alerted the Naboo Sith Order’s high command to the want of possessing Yag’Dhul. Twisted and contorted, the Dark Necromancer’s plan was going according to plan.

This new dark presence on the planet would bring about a reign of prosperity to he and extended his sphere of influence beyond the seas of Yag’Dhul. No longer would he live alone; women on both sides and security guards and groupies in front or back would flank him; and he, the great dark Necromancer, would see to it that the Naboo Sith Order lived long and prosperously for its freeing of him.

The siege had been going on for many weeks now, and the dark Necromancer watched it from a pearl globe harvested from a shipwreck of ancient Jedi on the planet. It had mythical powers inside the globe, and it, in part, fueled the dark Necromancer’s power. A small transport, one the dark Necromancer hadn’t seen since the days of Palpatine’s order, had entered the atmosphere of Yag’Dhul and landed at one of the new Naboo Sith Order military bases. The dark Necromancer watched with interest as a pair of humans walked down the gangplank of the Imperial style star ship. One was male, and the other was female, yet something did not look quite right about the pair. The dark Necromancer hobbled away from his globe and took out a torn and tattered book from his bookshelf in his small hut on the South Seas.

He opened the book to a page with Arabic calligraphy, flipped to three other pages, then settled on a page with no inscriptions on it. The dark Necromancer reached for a felt tipped pen on a desk nearby and sat down with the book at that desk.

He wrote slowly at first then fast and furiously; and he wrote in a dialect of old-basic:
The two they walk, talk and stalk gaily.
The two who have no names now,
By morning’s light, I shall know.
The dark Necromancer is on the prowl.
Work to be done, and work to be shirked.
Work to remember, and work to forget.
Lives be saved, profits be gained.
Their swagger, they stagger in only a gait long lost
The gait they walk of two,
Two of who know nothing more than each other.
Still, they don’t know one another.
Truth to be found, lies to be lost.
One is false. One is true.
Who it is, the dark Necromancer will know.
The dark Necromancer moves now,
Travels now,
Stalks now,
Saves now,
Finishes a score.

His piece finished, the dark Necromancer shut the book, sending dust into his dimly lit room, and he hobbled out of his little hut and into the fresh air of Yag’Dhul. Luckily for him, he walked out at a time where there was atmosphere present. The dark Necromancer of the South took in a deep breath and let it back out slowly.



Josh and Natasha romped on their pleasure yacht. Lounging around in the morning, love in the afternoon, lunch on the deck, love in the dwindling starlight, dinner in the evening and club hopping at night was the daily schedule of the two. All thoughts of duty had been forgotten. It was on one such of these days around dinnertime when Josh set himself down on to one knee and extended his hands to Natasha.

“Though we’ve only known each other for a dear short time, I know you enough to know one thing for certain: You are my one and only true love…” the captain trailed off at the word love. Something unnatural sparked in his Cyborg brain processor. Very stiffly, he got up from his knee and walked away from Natasha, ashamed and abashed.

Natasha made a motion to follow, “Josh!.”

“No. Don’t follow. It’s useless. Leave now, I can’t bear to witness it.”

“Josh! Come back!.”

Josh Fivies never responded, and he never looked back. His head hung low, he walked to a scrub deck and stared longingly at the sea below the yacht. To take his life now would ease the pain so much…

I’m not real. What was I thinking? thought Fivies, I can’t go on like this. I can’t torture Natasha that way. If only I could be real… A real man. Not some Cybertronic Human Replica Droid. It will be better this way, I suppose. I shall reboot my programming and get a body change. I’ll return to my commission in the Navy, or I’ll take up a job elsewhere. Love. It isn’t possible for me, a robot.

The days passed in an unrecognizable blur. Fivies moped around having realized that he was a robot destined for nothing more than to be a robot, and Natasha moped around looking desperately for her love, who had run off to some desolate place. It was in this desolate place, where Fivies encountered his fate.

The dark Necromancer had been on the prowl for a week now, searching square miles upon square miles of Yag’Dhul surface. His link to the outside world walked around somewhere on this huge planet, and he had to find that link. On the verge of giving up, the dark Necromancer cast a summoning spell.

“Dirt and grit,
Toils and spoils,
Bring to me the one,
The one who will lead me
Away.
Summon, Summon, Summon!”

Ending the spell with the customary raising of the arms, he sprinkled a fairy dust into the ocean below him and sank back against a wall, resting.

Two days into this slumber, he awoke to the sound of feet marching over duracrete. Slowly, the dark Necromancer opened up his eyes and saw the form of a man through the crust in his eyes. The object came closer tentatively and obviously afraid to wake the sleeping wizard.

“Boo,” whispered the dark Necromancer. The startled man jumped back and reached out for support. After this realization, he quickly crouched down and pulled out a small BlasTech blaster pistol. Its gun barrel was aimed at the dark Necromancer’s face.

“Put it down,” he said calmly. The man, Josh Fivies, shook his head no. “I won’t hurt you,” he continued. Still, Fivies replied with a shake of his head.

“Fine,” the dark Necromancer continued to reach out his hand and yanked the pistol out of Fivies’ hands with a quick incantation.