The rendezvous point was an abandoned moon orbiting a massive gas giant far from any major hyperspace route. The location had been selected before the mission began. If the operation failed, every rebel knew where to retreat. If it succeeded, everyone knew where to celebrate.
For once, the mission had actually succeeded.
Mostly.
Ships emerged from hyperspace one after another, appearing above the barren moon like wounded survivors returning from a storm. Some vessels limped into orbit trailing smoke and coolant. Others bore deep scars across their hulls. One corvette arrived with half its engines disabled and barely enough power remaining to maintain orbit, while a transport vessel emerged looking as though it had flown directly through an asteroid field, scorch marks covering nearly every visible surface.
The battle had been won. But victory had demanded a price.
Throughout the temporary landing zones, repair crews immediately got to work. Welders sparked against damaged hulls while engineers crawled across exposed framework, inspecting systems that had barely survived the battle. Medical teams moved constantly between ships, carrying wounded pilots and crew members toward makeshift treatment centers.
The atmosphere across the moon was strangely divided.
Half celebration.
Half mourning.
Many ships had returned.
Many never would.
General Berch Teller stood near the center of the gathering area with a datapad in hand, watching each new arrival emerge from hyperspace. Every time a ship appeared, he checked its designation and quietly updated the roster. Every time a vessel failed to arrive, another name was moved to a different list.
The dead.
By the end of the operation, nearly half the attacking force had been lost. Some ships had been destroyed. Others captured. A few had simply vanished, leaving behind nothing but uncertainty.
No one knew which fate was worse.
Yet despite the losses, morale remained surprisingly high. The Empire had suffered a genuine defeat.
Then a commotion spread throughout the landing field.
People began pointing toward the sky.
Berch looked up and immediately burst out laughing.
A massive Imperial transport emerged from hyperspace.
Majestically.
The stolen vessel dwarfed many of the rebel ships already gathered above the moon. Cheers erupted almost instantly. Mechanics shouted in disbelief. Several crew members simply stared.
One young rebel looked at the giant vessel and asked, "They stole the whole ship?"
His friend nodded without taking his eyes off the transport.
"They stole the whole ship."
The enormous vessel descended toward the surface, its battle-scarred hull illuminated by landing beacons. Burn marks covered entire sections of armor plating. Several weapon batteries hung damaged from their mounts. One engine appeared to be held together by little more than emergency repairs and determination.
Yet it was operational.
More importantly, it belonged to them.
The transport touched down with a thunderous rumble, its landing struts groaning beneath the tremendous weight. Moments later the main cargo ramp lowered.
Ahsoka Tano emerged first.
Quinlan Vos followed.
Then Sebul.
The moment the pilot stepped onto the landing field, applause erupted from every direction.
Sebul immediately looked pleased with himself.
Quinlan groaned.
"Don't encourage him."
"You are just jealous," Sebul replied.
That only made the crowd laugh harder.
"How did you steal it?"
"Whose idea was it?"
"How many troopers were onboard?"
"Did you actually crash into the ship?"
Ahsoka didn't even hesitate. She pointed directly at Sebul.
"His fault."
Sebul proudly nodded.
"You're welcome."
A few minutes later, Berch Teller arrived personally. The former intelligence officer slowly circled the massive vessel, studying every visible scar and damaged section of hull. Unlike most of the gathered rebels, Berch wasn't admiring the ship purely for the story behind it. He was calculating.
A transport this size represented an incredible prize. Food. Fuel. Medicine. Weapons. Replacement parts. The cargo alone could support multiple rebel cells for months, and the vessel itself was worth even more.
Eventually Berch approached the trio and shook his head.
"I still can't believe you did it."
Quinlan folded his arms.
"Neither can we."
Berch laughed before his expression became thoughtful again.
"We'll take it to headquarters."
Sebul immediately shook his head.
"No."
Berch blinked.
"No?"
Sebul pointed at the transport behind him.
"We're keeping the ship."
Several nearby officers abruptly stopped talking. Berch simply stared at him.
"You want the entire ship?"
"Yes."
"The cargo too?"
Sebul shrugged generously.
"You can take whatever supplies you need."
That immediately eased some of the tension. The rebellion desperately needed the cargo. The ship itself was another matter entirely.
Berch glanced toward the giant transport and then back toward Sebul. His expression made it painfully obvious that he wanted it. Very badly.
Everyone could understand why.
A vessel of this size would revolutionize rebel logistics. It could transport troops, equipment, supplies, and personnel on a scale most rebel groups could only dream about.
Unfortunately for Berch, Sebul had already claimed it.
And everyone knew he had a valid argument.
"It wasn't part of the mission ."
"We captured it ourselves."
"And I nearly died for it."
Quinlan immediately interrupted.
"We all nearly died."
"Details."
Ahsoka rolled her eyes.
Berch pinched the bridge of his nose before letting out a long, exhausted laugh. Arguing was pointless. Sebul was right. The transport belonged to the people who had captured it, and no one could honestly deny they had earned it.
Finally Berch surrendered.
"Fine."
Sebul grinned instantly.
"Excellent."
"The cargo stays."
"Of course."
Sebul pretended to consider the matter seriously before nodding.
The negotiations ended there.
Within hours, unloading operations began. Massive cargo containers emerged from the transport one after another. Food supplies. Medical equipment. Spare parts. Fuel reserves. Weapons. Ammunition. Everything the rebellion desperately needed.
Workers moved continuously throughout the day while the stolen vessel slowly emptied.
Meanwhile, Sebul could be found wandering through his newest acquisition with a datapad in hand. He inspected corridors, recorded damage reports, created repair lists, planned modifications, and generally behaved like a man who had just purchased his dream home.
Rollo followed faithfully behind him, occasionally offering suggestions through a series of electronic beeps. Sebul nodded seriously each time.
To outside observers, the entire process looked remarkably similar to a homeowner planning renovations.
A very large homeowner.
Ahsoka eventually found him standing inside the engineering section. The enormous reactor illuminated the chamber with a soft blue glow.
"It needs months of repairs."
"I know."
"The engines are damaged."
"I know."
"The weapons barely work."
"I know."
"The hyperdrive nearly exploded."
Sebul smiled and looked around the engineering bay with obvious affection.
"Isn't she beautiful?"
Ahsoka burst out laughing.
A few weeks ago she never would have understood people like him. Now she did.
The ship represented possibility.
Freedom.
Adventure.
In many ways, it wasn't so different from what a lightsaber represented to a Jedi.
Later that evening, after unloading operations finally ended, Berch gathered everyone together for a celebration. It was far more subdued than previous victories. Too many empty seats remained. Too many familiar faces were missing.
Yet people celebrated anyway.
Because despite the losses, they had won.
Food was distributed. Music played. Stories spread through the gathering. Pilots exaggerated their accomplishments. Mechanics exaggerated how difficult their repairs had been.
Everyone lied equally.
As tradition demanded.
Near midnight, Berch finally found Ahsoka, Quinlan, and Sebul sitting together near one of the landing pads.
"You three heading back tomorrow?"
Quinlan nodded.
"I figured."
Berch's eyes drifted toward the giant transport resting in the distance.
"Take care of that ship."
"I will."
Then the general became serious.
"The rebellion appreciates what you've done."
Ahsoka inclined her head respectfully.
"Thank you."
"Will we see you again?"
Ahsoka looked toward the stars. Beyond them lay a galaxy still suffering beneath Imperial rule. Then she thought of Bogano. The children. Luke. The Nightsisters. The Jedi. The future they were trying to build.
"Definitely."
Berch smiled.
The next morning they departed.
The arrival of the Gryffindor was noticed long before it landed.
As usual, the children spotted it first.
One moment they were gathered near the training fields under Master Yoda's supervision, dutifully practicing forms and meditation exercises. The next, one of the younger trainees pointed excitedly toward the sky.
"The Gryffindor!"
Instantly, all discipline vanished.
Training sabers were forgotten. Meditation was abandoned. Even the Nightsister children who had been practicing nearby immediately dropped what they were doing and sprinted toward the landing field.
Luke naturally led the charge.
He nearly tripped over his own feet three separate times in his hurry, but that did little to slow him down.
Behind him came Friga, Krigo, Lokans, and nearly every other young Jedi trainee on Bogano. Several Nightsister children joined them, while a number of adults stopped their work to watch the approaching vessel.
High above, the familiar red-and-gold ship descended through the clouds.
By the time it neared the ground, half the settlement had gathered to watch.
Harry emerged from one of the workshops near the landing zone, wiping dirt from his hands. He had apparently been working with magical plants again. Obi-Wan walked beside him, while Yoda followed at a slower pace.
Winky came rushing from the dining hall with a wooden spoon still clutched tightly in one hand.
The ship settled onto its landing struts with a low rumble. Steam hissed from several vents as the cargo ramp slowly lowered.
Everyone watched expectantly.
Then Quinlan appeared.
A moment later, Ahsoka stepped down beside him.
And the door closed automatically.
Harry frowned.
Obi-Wan frowned.
Even Yoda's ears twitched slightly.
Luke looked around in confusion.
"Where's Sebul?"
Ahsoka and Quinlan exchanged amused glances.
Harry folded his arms.
"What happened?"
The smile vanished from Quinlan's face.
He understood exactly what Harry meant.
Secret missions were dangerous. People didn't always come home. The rebellion lost soldiers, pilots, and agents every day. Harry's concern was entirely reasonable.
Fortunately, Ahsoka immediately raised both hands.
"Nothing happened to Sebul."
The tension that had begun forming instantly evaporated.
Luke looked even more confused than before.
"Then where is he?"
Ahsoka simply pointed toward the sky.
Everyone followed her finger.
For several seconds the sky remained completely empty.
Then suddenly the air distorted.
A massive shadow appeared high above Bogano.
Gasps echoed across the landing field.
Several Nightsisters immediately reached for weapons. Obi-wan instinctively ignited saber before realizing there was no immediate threat.
Even Yoda looked startled.
Because what emerged from the distortion was enormous.
Calling it a ship felt inadequate.
A gigantic iron fortress descending from the heavens.
The transport slowly emerged, revealing a vessel so large that it dwarfed every other ship on Bogano combined.
Its scarred hull reflected sunlight across the valley. Countless weapon batteries covered entire sections of the vessel. Even from a distance, the signs of battle were obvious.
Burn marks stretched across the armor plating.
Several turrets hung damaged from their mounts.
Entire sections appeared patched together through sheer stubbornness.
And despite all that—
The vessel remained magnificent.
Luke's jaw slowly dropped.
"That's..."
Words failed him.
Harry finished the sentence.
"Very large."
The giant transport continued descending far away from the settlement.
Far away from the other landing pads.
Mostly because there simply wasn't enough room anywhere else.
When it finally touched down, the impact shook the ground beneath everyone's feet.
Trees swayed. Birds exploded from nearby branches.
Several children lost their balance and fell over entirely.
Then the main cargo ramp lowered.
And out walked Sebul.
The pilot looked happier than anyone had ever seen him. He practically bounced down the ramp.
Harry took one look at the expression on his face and sighed.
"Oh no."
Obi-Wan smiled knowingly.
"You recognize that look."
"I do."
"What does it mean?"
Harry pointed toward the transport.
"It means he lives there now."
From across the field, Sebul immediately shouted back.
"I heard that!"
Harry pointed triumphantly.
"See?"
Soon everyone made their way toward the newly acquired vessel.
The closer they got, the more impressive it became.
The transport towered above them like a metal mountain. Massive cargo bays lined the lower decks. Countless compartments stretched throughout the vessel. There were living quarters, storage sections, maintenance facilities, hangars, and enough interior space to house an entire town.
Several Nightsister elders walked through the ship in stunned silence.
One finally spoke.
"This is bigger than our village."
Another slowly nodded.
"It is bigger than both villages."
A third looked around in disbelief.
"How many people can live here?"
Sebul answered instantly.
"Thousand."
The pilot smiled proudly.
"Maybe more."
Harry wandered through one of the damaged corridors, examining the battle scars. Entire wall sections had been burned black. Blaster impacts covered the bulkheads. Broken droids remained piled in corners awaiting removal.
The vessel had survived the battle.
Barely.
"How long will it take to repair this?" Harry asked.
Sebul glanced around thoughtfully before answering.
"Months."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Months?"
"Maybe a year."
Harry laughed.
"You're insane."
Sebul affectionately patted a damaged wall.
"But she's worth it."
Ahsoka rolled her eyes.
"He's already named the ship."
Harry immediately stopped walking.
"No."
Sebul suddenly looked guilty.
Which answered the question immediately.
"What did you call it?"
The pilot hesitated.
Everyone waited.
"The Victory."
Then Luke spoke.
"That's actually a good name."
Sebul looked delighted.
Harry looked betrayed.
"You were supposed to disagree."
Luke shrugged.
"It sounds cool."
And somehow that settled the matter.
Author's Note:
Enjoying the story?
Consider joining my Pat*reon to get early access to more chapters and exclusive fanfictions! Even as a free member you will get one extra chapter and you'll receive early access to chapters before they're posted elsewhere and various other fanfictions.Your support helps me create more content for you to enjoy!
Join here: Patre*on(dot)com(slash)Beuwulf