Jaid: Well, here we go again…

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Coruscant. The capital of the galaxy. Where you could buy and sell pretty much anything you wanted in the underground, and where the Emperor had built his Imperial palace. Coruscant was the main political, arts, society, and criminal center of the myriad of planets and systems that inhabited the reaches of space.

The Imperial palace was especially grand, if somewhat eerie, to look at. Though the outside was an imposing polished black granite, the inside was a thing of beauty; the upper levels even had old-fashioned wooden doors that were ornately carved. Behind one of these doors a young woman received some shocking as well as disastrous, news.

"He’s what?" Relena turned to her political aide, Dorothy Catalonia. The elegant woman shrugged.

"That’s what the message said."

Relena turned back to the wide viewport, which gave an excellent view of the bustling Coruscant.

"But it shouldn’t be allowed." She said, one fist clenched. "The Imperial Senate is very important."

"You know very well it isn’t." Dorothy’s voice had become rather sharp and bitter. "It was just a ploy, so that there wouldn’t be much of an uprising. Palpatine isn’t stupid, but he’s through with playing games."

Relena’s shoulders fell. "And what of the Senators?"

"We’re all being ‘asked’ to leave."

Relena swallowed. "And there’s nothing we can do?"

She heard Dorothy sigh.

"Not that I know of, Highness." Dorothy answered quietly. Relena’s shoulders slumped a little more.

"Tell Nira to start packing." She murmured.

* * *

"Pardon me, excuse me." Midii Une fought her way through the thick crowd. "Excuse me, uh, miss, ma’am." Midii squeezed past a pair of Twi’lek twins and found herself at the edge of the crowd.

Finally. She thought gratefully. Midii was about to step over the barrier, when a man stopped her.

"You can’t come over here, lady."

"No, it’s okay." Midii said. "I have a friend racing here; number four on the Red Devils team?"

"Are you a part of the team?" the man asked skeptically. "Look more like a bar waitress to me."

Midii grimaced slightly, acknowledging the tight black outfit she wore underneath her brown cloak. "Yeah I am. I just wanted to wish him good luck-"

"I’m sure he will understand." The man said firmly. "But if you’re not a mechanic or a racer, then you stay behind the line like everyone else."

Midii stepped back in frustration. The man walked away. Over where the swoop-racers were lined up, one clad in black with a red fire emblazoned on his jacket, looked up and waved. Midii smiled and mouthed "Good luck!" The rider gave her a thumbs-up.

"Racers," the announcer said in Basic and several alien languages. "Ready yourselves…Go!"

* * *

"This is what the Emperor has planned?" the young man asked, almost incredulously.

"One would think from your tone, Moff Khushrenada, that you disagreed." A sharp-featured man said in a flowing, easy tone.

"I am afraid I do, Moff Tarkin." Trieze answered. "This was not what the Navy was built for. It’s not what the Navy was meant for."

"Be that as it may." Moff Tarkin said. "It is what we have been ordered to do. The Death Star is nearing completion and one of us will be chosen to command it."

"And why would you be telling us now?" Moff Neeran asked. "It seems that we should have been told a while ago."

"I myself was not aware of the fact till recently." Tarkin answered. Trieze wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. There was a pause as the council digested this.

"Well," Tarkin stood. "I believe this ends our conversation. Gentlemen, you are dismissed."

As the Moffs and Grand Moffs filed out, Treize pulled out a small communicator and dialed a number.

"Sir?" a young woman answered.

"I need to talk to you, Colonel, as soon as I return." Treize said quietly.

"Yes, sir. I’ll take care of things here." She answered. Treize smiled and cut the connection.

"Khushrenada."

Treize turned as Tarkin approached. "Yes?"

"I know you don’t agree to this, but don’t throw away your career because of a minor disagreement."

Minor? Something that can destroy an entire planet is minor? Trieze smiled tightly. "You have no need to worry, sir. If you will excuse me…"

"Of course." Tarkin stepped out of the way and allowed the younger man to pass.

* * *

Midii watched the track monitor anxiously. It was the last run.

"Please let him be okay this time." She whispered.

"And here they come now." The announcer said. "Number four from Red Devils is head to head with Number one from Xeerdos Fangs! They’re making the turn-"

"Come on." Midii whispered. "Come on." She gasped as Four made an odd swerve away from One and rammed against the wall. To her relief, Four got back on track and sped quickly up passing One and crossing the line.

"Thank the gods." She muttered. Four painfully got off of his swoop and took off his helmet, wiping the sweat from his eyes. He scanned the crowd, saw her and gave her a wide grin. Midii smiled, and began pressing her way through the crowd.

Four sighed, then rubbed his leg. It was a good thing it wasn’t broken and mentally cursed Cal Vernoss (Number One) for pulling the vibroblade on him. At least it hadn’t penetrated his jacket.

"Are you okay, Quatre?"

He turned to see Midii.

"Of course." He said. "And I did get the prize money."

"Does that mean…?" Midii asked hopefully.

"Yep." Quatre grinned. "Another race I think and we can afford to head wherever you want."

Midii grinned back in excitement and they hugged.

"Hey, Winner."

The two turned to see Cal and his teammates standing there.

"Can I help you?" Quatre asked coolly.

"You’re cheating." Cal accused. "No way you could take more than one hit like that and still win."

Quatre raised an eyebrow. "And sabotaging my swoop and attacking me is not cheating."

"I’m within my bounds." Cal snarled. "You’re intruding on my territory and driving me out of business."

"Your loss." Quatre answered in a hard tone. Midii clutched his arm.

"Let’s go." She whispered. Quatre nodded and turned away.

"I’m not done with you yet, Winner!" Cal yelled, aiming a punch at him. Quatre dodged.

"Cool it." He said. "Part of the reason you’re not flying so well is all that drink you’re having before the races."

"That has nothing to do with it." Cal said through clenched teeth. "I’ve been flying like this for years and there’s nothing wrong with it."

"Obviously there is." Quatre answered in the same steely tone. "I don’t want to fight you-"

"Too bad." One of Cal’s mates said.

"Midii," Quatre said softly. "Get back."

"But-"

"Trust me." He looked at her, and then she understood. Letting go of his arm, she melted back into the crowd, and Quatre turned back to Cal.

"Sure you want to start a fight out here?" he asked.

"I don’t care where it is, but you’re going down this time." Cal hissed, then lunged. Quatre sidestepped and halfway turned to defend himself against whatever Cal planned to throw at him. Cal’s friends were closing in on his other side, and Quatre began to feel a bit nervous.

Most swoop-riders are rather muscular and tall, mostly because they are often the part of big gangs. But Quatre was small and slender for nineteen and he knew that he couldn’t take them all. Best thing to do was follow Midii’s example and melt into the crowd. However, with Cal on one side, and his pals on the other, Quatre was quickly realizing that this wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed.

* * *

The man sitting alone in the bar was perhaps in his mid to late twenties. His brown eyes kept searching the rest of the catina, as if he were waiting for someone. The man sighed. He hoped the contact would be here soon.

* * *

"Hey!" Midii shouted, grabbing an arm. The middle-aged man turned and then grinned broadly.

"Hey yourself, Midii!" he exclaimed above the noise of the crowd and city. "Where’s Quatre?"

"Over there!" Midii pointed. "He needs help. Some guy isn’t happy about Quatre winning again and he’s just waiting to start some trouble."

The man’s face tightened. "And all we need is storm troopers." He breathed. "Gotcha."

Taller than Midii and much boarder of shoulder, the man had no problem fighting his way through the crowd. He broke through the edge to see Quatre being cornered between his swoop and five mean looking punks.

"What’s up?" he asked easily, walking up. Cal turned and looked

"None of your business." He snarled. The man grinned.

"Oh, I think I’ll make it my business." He stated then nodded to the young blonde. "These guys makin’ trouble, Quatre?"

Quatre relaxed from his fighting stance. "They just have a couple of complaints, Abdul." He said easily, then fixed his eye on Cal. "I think they’re going to take it up with the owner of the course."

"No I ain’t." Cal said. "I’m takin’ it up with you." He stepped towards Quatre, but Abdul stopped him.

"That isn’t a great idea." He said. "I’d hate for the Fangs to get routed by the Red Devils. They wouldn’t take too kindly to their best pilot getting beat up. And of course, we wouldn’t want ‘law enforcement’ down here, would we?"

Cal was still mad, but by this time, it was too much trouble to get his revenge. He relaxed and stepped back, but he was still glaring dangerously.

"Fine." He spat. "I’ll leave. But this isn’t over, Winner. Not by a long shot." With that, Cal turned on his heel and left, his groupies following.

Abdul turned to his younger "brother". "Can’t stay out of trouble, can’t you?" he said, grinning.

Quatre sighed and shook his head, but he was smiling. "Follows me like a starving Dronk."

Abdul laughed and put his arm around the boy’s shoulder. "Let’s go and find Mids. She’s probably ready to tear somebody’s head off by now."

* * *

"Highness?"

Dorothy’s soft, but precise tone tore Relena from her thoughts. Turning away from the shuttle’s view port she turned to her aide.

"Yes?"

"I have a report that you should read." Dorothy stated, handing her a datapad. Relena took it and began to read.

* * *

Midii was somewhere between sleep and awareness. Through the warm haziness, she could hear two voices. One was deep, and slightly accented. The other was light and musical; she smiled. It was Quatre’s voice. She frowned again as she realized that he sounded worried. Coming fully awake, she heard her name. Getting up, she walked near the door.

"I don’t really want to say anything." Quatre was saying. "I don’t want to worry her."

"She’ll find out anyway, but you’re right; no need to get Mids up right now." Abdul agreed. "But you can’t stay here anymore; he nearly got you this time."

"I know." Quatre’s answer was grim. "But-"

"Aww, come on, Quatre. Rashid thinks of you like a son; the son he never had. Savannah and Mara’ll be glad to see you; all of us will. Besides, I want you to meet Ari. It’s a place where you two will be safe and-"

"All right, all right!" Quatre’s voice was filled with laughter. "You can tell Rashid to expect us. But I need to ask Midii first; this is just as much her decision as mine."

"Okay." Abdul agreed. "I’ll see you later then."

"Bye." Quatre said. Midii heard the door open and then close, then went and laid back her in bed, in case Quatre would check on her. A few minutes later, she heard the door to her room whoosh softly open, then felt the bed shift as Quatre sat next to her. Midii heard him sigh softly, then felt his hand lightly touch her hair. He got up and walked out of the room. Midii allowed her eyes to open and looked at the closed door, her mind full of questions.

Won’t find out unless I ask. She decided, then got up and walked out of the room. Quatre was in their small kitchen.

"Morning." She said. He jumped slightly and turned, then smiled.

"Morning, Mids." He greeted. "I’m just about done with breakfast."

"Good." Midii said, grabbing some dishes and setting them on the small table. "Everything okay for today?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quatre’s jaw stiffen tightly. "No," he admitted slowly. "It isn’t."

Midii turned, keeping her expression neutral. "Oh? Why?"

Quatre licked his dry lips. "Come here." He motioned for her to follow him to his bedroom. They entered and Midii felt the blast of cold air through her thin nightgown. The viewport in Quatre’s room was smashed to pieces and the cold Coruscantian air whirled in and out mercilessly. Glass was scattered all over the floor and bed…so was some blood. She whirled around to stare at Quatre, her eyes asking questions. Quatre put his arm around her and led her from the room.

"What happened?" Midii asked as he shut the door. "Are you okay? How come I didn’t wake up?"

"What happened was that I was attacked." Quatre smiled wryly. "I guess some of my past is catching up with me. I’m fine for the most part, just a few cuts from the glass. I have no idea why you didn’t wake up, but you have been working the latest shifts and so you must be pretty exhausted."

"We have to leave, don’t we." Midii said. It wasn’t a question. Quatre nodded, his smile fading.

"I’m sorry." He said. "I know what I promised-"

Midii cut him off with a hug. "I understand." She said. "It doesn’t matter that much."

They stood there for a moment, then Quatre pulled away far enough so that he could see her face. "Just out of curiosity," Quatre said. "What planet would you have wanted to go to?"

"Alderaan." Midii answered softly. "It was my mother’s planet."

Quatre nodded. "I see." He looked at her. "I’ll do my best to get you there."

Midii nodded. "Thanks."

Quatre smiled, then stiffened.

"What?" Midii asked…just as the smoke alarm went off. They walked quickly into the kitchen, where "breakfast" was smoking. Quatre groaned and Midii laughed.

"Get dressed." She told him. "I’ll buy us breakfast."

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Jaid: There, first chappy done! Sorry if the racing scene sucked; I’m not much good with swoops.

Naga: I’d like a swoop.

Jad: You’re dangerous enough with a car.

Jaid: He was driving?

Jad: Oops.

Naga: Great job, big mouth.

Jaid: Naga was driving?

Naga: No I wasn’t! He’s ahh, lying, that’s it!

Jaid: We’ll discuss this later…

Jad: Heh, heh right. Read and Review!!!

A/N: Hey guys! Um, I need some public opinion here. I’m thinking about making this the first Midii/Quatre story. Whatd’ya think? I know; I’m a diehard Q/D and M/T fan, but I thought it would be interesting. I won’t do it if you all are against it; but I thought it’d be kinda cool.