Gav Lucky

Biographical Information
Full Name:	Uglogavste Lukiil
Aliases:	Gav Lucky Dogbone The Space Pig
Homeworld:	Gentes
Born:	Year -4 Day 143
Physical Description
Race:	Ugnaught
Gender:	Male
Height:	142 cm
Colouring:	Porcelain
Hair Colour:	Brunette
Eye Colour:	Brown
Trade Federation Service
Status:	Active Duty
Ministry:	Interior
Department:	Operations - Savage Squirrels
Position:	Flight Sergeant

Background

Gav Lucky's personal flagship the Colossal-class Heavy Carrier Ugnorgrad I

Born beneath the heavy, sulfurous skies of Gentes, Uglogavste Lukiil came into the galaxy with a mind tuned for machinery and a soul already weighed by the oppression of his people. Like so many Ugnaughts before him, he escaped the drudgery of servitude, drifting to Bespin where the towering halls of Ugnorgrad hummed with welding arcs and the quiet desperation of survival.

On Bespin, he found refuge in the union workshops and data cores, refining not just his mechanical skill but a deep mastery of systems: computer networks, logistics algorithms, capital ship protocols. By day he was a quiet laborer; by night, a silent student of power, watching how the flow of credits and contracts shaped destinies far more decisively than any hydrospanner.

His true name, Uglogavste Lukiil, was a tangle to most tongues. Smirking at the galaxy’s discomfort, he offered a simpler handle: "You may call me Gav Luck." It was meant as a quick, memorable alias, something that sounded like "Give Luck" and carried a hint of charm and fortune. But in the cantinas of Bespin, the name began to evolve. Gav spent long evenings hunched over holochess boards and pazaak tables, usually walking away with his credits intact or only slightly lighter. Then, one night, he hit a small jackpot on the slots, the kind of rare win that cantina patrons remembered for years. From then on, the regulars started calling him "Gav Lucky" as a teasing nod to that single windfall and a name that, to his mild annoyance, stuck harder than the original. Yet beneath that easy nickname and easy grin lay a mind haunted by the fate of powerless workers, scarred by watching entire communities collapse under the weight of financial neglect. For Gav Lucky, money was not mere currency; it was armor, weapon, and salvation.

Career Timeline

An OOC Introduction

Storytelling has always been the lens through which I experience Star Wars roleplay, and Star Wars Combine is no different. For me, the game isn’t just a set of mechanics, but rather a living galaxy, and every choice deserves to be remembered. My habit of chronicling in detail began during my work on The Wall, when I saw so many sparsely populated, outdated, or even empty service pages, alongside long-overdue Tour of Duty badge and member reward requests on the forums. All of these things require keeping good records which, at present, isn’t centrally tracked. I wanted to make it easier for future admins, but also to ensure that no moment of my own journey in the Trade Federation or SWC was lost to time. In both the game and real life, I think journaling is a vital tool for those suffering from the human condition, especially for someone like me who so easily forgets people, places, and events as the years pass. As Hartroff Parmenion once said to me after reading my Library works: Verba volant, scripta manent—spoken words fly away, written words remain. Some say I have the “Gift of Gav,” a tendency to turn even the smallest update into a saga. I’ll take that as a compliment. After all, the fun of SWC is not only in what we do, but in how we tell the tale. — The Player

Cadet

Joining Up

His path to the Federation began in the most unassuming of ways. He was standing in a dingy spaceport terminal, waiting for a delayed transport, when a Holonet recruitment broadcast flickered to life above the crowd. The advertisement was crisp, authoritative, and emblazoned with the seal of the Trade Federation Department of Admissions.

Front and center stood Samantha Dordoli, delivering a precise and confident appeal to those seeking opportunity, structure, and purpose. In her words, Gav heard not just an invitation, but a promise: that order and ambition could be harnessed to lift those who were willing to work for it. By the time his transport arrived, he had already filled out the enlistment forms.

Driven by a relentless need to rewrite his people’s story and that of his own, he set his sights on the Trade Federation: a colossus of order, profit, and prestige. With each promotion and each credit earned, Gav Lucky would step further away from the darkness of Gentes and deeper into the halls of influence, where he would secure not just personal wealth but a fortress of resources strong enough to protect any who still bear the scars of servitude.

In every deal, every convoy manifest, every whispered negotiation, echoed his core philosophy: power is the ultimate currency, and luck favors those who build it themselves.

The Academy

Aeriel view of the Viceroyal Palace, and the surrounding areas of the city of Forsetti.

Cadet life was a shock both in its rigor and in its order. Assigned to a small cohort of recruits from across the galaxy, Gav quickly learned that the Academy was more than drills and data entry. It was a crucible for loyalty, skill, and adaptability. His knack for pattern recognition and logistical problem-solving made him an asset in training simulations, where he could predict enemy maneuvers and optimize fleet positioning with uncanny accuracy. He passed the Basic Training Standard Exam and on Y26 D205, Gav stood before the Federation banner, right hand raised, and swore the Trade Federation Oath. For the first time, the weight of service felt heavier than the weight of survival.

Cadet First Class - The Savage Squirrels

First Asteroid Field Prospecting Mission

Assigned to the Department of Operations under the Ministry of the Interior, Gav found himself in the ranks of the Savage Squirrels Flight Team, a unit as eccentric as it was effective. Under Interior Minister Dred Oodoov and Operations Director Dak Ironfist, the team’s operations ranged from precision transport runs to asteroid field prospecting. Day-to-day orders came from Lt. Commander Heuk Gisa, whose terse directives left no room for hesitation.

In those days, Gav started to make a name for himself with his sustained, methodical work. His first deployment was to an asteroid field outside of Ktil where he was tasked with reprospecting it. Using a standard issue GPS, he was able to pull Federation mining data and see that 13 previous uncovered deposits were still active with varying stability. The scanner also detected 11 undiscovered deposits. It was rough in the beginning as he tried to get his bearings. From speaking to instructors at the Academy, asteroid field prospecting was more of an art than a science. After the first couple days, he thought that there had to be a better way. During sleeping hours, he would stay up in the bunk of his Y-8 mining vessel and run thought experiments on his datapad. He programmed a game that would generate random asteroid fields and place random deposits. He would play this game all night trying different strategies and also updating an AI assistant to predict the next best possible asteroid to scan. After a couple nights, he started to see patterns and develop what he thought was a winning strategy. On the third day, he had played the game hundreds of times and essentially developed many years of prospecting experience in simulation. He ended up finishing the mission in nine days.

First Holotech Assignment

That performance did not go unnoticed. Interior Minister Dred Oodoov, impressed by both the ingenuity and the discipline behind the operation, personally put in a recommendation to Kaire Nat-Sa, the Defense Minister and Main Administrator of the Department of Holotech. Soon after, Gav received a formal communication from Holotech headquarters.

Known as the Federation’s hidden engine for innovation, Holotech specialized in turning individual talent into institutional capability. Gav began working under Kaire’s direction outside of Operations work on the Trade Federation Management System. Because of his interest in asteroid field prospecting tactics at the time, his first development task he was assigned was to integrate a prototype asteroid field deposit tracking system into the main Management System, which at the time was operating separately. It would be the first Holotech assignment of many.

First Library Card

Gav standing in the Library in Forsetti admiring a statue of Kurner Dahtar

Working in Holotech meant many trips to the Federation Library, looking up protocols and technical blueprints. Because he spent so much time there, on Y26 D233 he volunteered as an archivist. Not only did he fall in love with library science and circulation, but it allowed him access to many of the more restricted sections of the archives. Not long after, State Minister Thion Roseland, who was also essentially acting as interim Chief Archivist, stepped down from his post and relinquished all State and Library duties.

The Library grew even quieter in Thion Roseland’s absence. One evening, Gav found himself alone among the shelves, methodically replacing holobooks, the soft hum of the preservation systems his only company. In that stillness, the Library began to feel less like a workplace and more like a sanctuary. Feeling a flicker of mischief with no one watching, he wandered into the Chief Archivist’s chambers. Minister Roseland had spent little time there, preferring his office at the Ministry of State, and the room bore the signs, with dust gathering on the desk, stale air, and shelves untouched for weeks.

Drawers yielded little of interest until he found it: an unmarked access key. Curiosity piqued, Gav experimented, discovering that the key granted him the ability to withdraw blank holobooks from restricted storage and, more importantly, to author new entries within the Library’s secure archive. It was an archivist’s dream and an invitation to shape history.

He knew exactly where to begin. Drawing on months of late-night reading and note-taking, he began work on a serialized chronicle he had long imagined: This Month in Trade Federation History. With unrestricted access to the Federation’s historical records, he could weave together recovered archives, oral histories, and rediscovered GNS clippings into a living narrative of the Federation’s evolution. On Y26 D233, he released the first issue, This Month in Trade Federation History – Year 26 • Month 8, to wide acclaim among those who cared for the Federation’s legacy.

The project lit a fire. Gav started expanding other holobooks, merging details from cross-referenced sources and building comprehensive indexes. His work quickly caught the attention of senior officials, and before long, he was entrusted with the responsibilities of Interim Chief Archivist. In this capacity, he authored the Library Charter, codifying the institution’s purpose and scope; documented the Modus Operandi for the Continuity Restoration and Standardization Initiative; and designed the Federation’s official Chain of Command diagram.

He also transformed an unused section of the Library into a permanent Art Museum exhibit, curating a collection of recovered Federation visual history. This moved Captain Hartroff Parmenion and so he dug up his old findings from his Archeological Investigations in Federation History project, featuring former logos of past Operations Flight Teams. To Gav, this was preservation as strategy. Heritage and identity, he knew, were themselves forms of power, and a well-tended history could be as potent a weapon as any fleet.

First Slabbing Mission

A Blue Milk Run

It was Year 26 Day 248. Gav was looking through his standard issue flight team datapad searching for his next mission when he saw an announcement about an economic development happening on Kuna`s Tail VII. For flight team members like himself, this meant a plethora of "slabbing" missions had been posted. What would happen is a TF service member would be assigned as the leader of a "slabbing squad"--a ragtag group of mercenary riflemen--and their mandate was to "clear" each planned city site of all hostile life forms. This ranged from groups of bandits to flocks of creatures. Anything that would interfere with construction that was not authorized by the Federation was to be removed by force. It was essentially a glorified pest control operation. There were rumors that many bandit groups of Diathim, Fosh, and Toydarian descent had been spotted, along with colossal sized streaked velkers and purrgils. Needless to say, it was not a mission for the faint of heart, but Gav was up to the task in hopes of rounding out his work experience. Corresponding with Alories Tanus, a fellow service member he had met in his travels, about the potential dangers, Tanus replied to his holomessage:

It's pretty easy! You won't die haha. Just watch your medical supplies, inspect your riflemen make sure they are equipped with their standard issue A280, and keep at a distance of 7-8 clicks. Why don't you work on latitude 16? Start at longitude 19 and meet Captain Parmenion in the middle. I've mostly cleared that site already so it'll be a good way to ease into it.

Mostly cleared... see a familiar face... Alories made it sound like a blue milk run. So he signed up for the mission and set his NavComp to Kuna`s Tail VII. It took him five days in hyperspace to get there, which he spent leisurely tinkering on holotech projects and scribbling in his holobooks.

A Rag-Tag Bunch

On Day 255, he exited hyperspace and arrived in orbit of Kuna`s Tail VII. He was to report to the Lucrehulk Battleship Basilisk to rendezvous with his slabbing squad. But the first thing he had to do was find a jetpack. He was told by Lt. Commander Gisa that there might be extras at the entrance of the ship, otherwise he would have to go to the outfitter on Dor. Well, there was not, but he decided to walk around the ship until finally he found an armoury that had an extra. That's why they call me Lucky, he chuckled to himself. The whole side mission made him quite late to the briefing...

He approached the lineup and introduced himself.

Greetings! Apologies for the tardiness... My name is Cadet First Class Lucky. I will be leading the slabbing mission for the coming days...

As he briefed the squad, he noticed mixed reactions. Amseth Onasi, a Hapan in some sort of uniform, listened respectfully. A pair of Gamorreans grumbled to each other, judging their leader and compatriots of varying statures, all dwarfed in comparison to their own.

At least he is Porcine, but barely clears 100cm... said the one Gamorrean.

I heard it's his first slab mission, take orders with grain of spice... and why are Ewok and Aleena here? They can barely lift their rifle... said the other.

The Ewok simply stood and tilted his head occasionally as Gav spoke, while the Aleena looked like someone who was trying to convince themselves, and others, that they were ready for something they were not.

Gav walked down the line and inspected each member of the squad, making sure each had a rifle and a jetpack. Unfortunately, one of the members did not have a jetpack. He had no confidence that there were any extra jetpacks on the ship, so he said they would have to sit out and maybe if there's a supply run at some point they could join in.

11 instead of 12, no biggie, he thought. Plenty of medical supplies, one can stay inside the ship in case we need to make a run for it. It'll be fine...

He had a slight feeling in his gut that things were not going as well as he had hope, maybe an even slighter feeling that something was wrong, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Too late now, he said under his breath. Too late now. We have to get moving.

The First Encounter

Gav Lucky, armed and ready for action

The crew loaded onto Gav's ATR-6 gunboat and began their descent to 19-16. From the atmosphere the site looked acquiescent; not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Soon they arrived on the "surface", which, being that Kuna`s Tail VII was a gas planet, simply meant an altitude that was ideal for building a floating city; close enough to the gas to mine it without suffocating. Gav had spoken to some old Academy friends on best strategies. Hug the perimeter so you don't get ambushed- Move a couple clicks and then go outside and scan with your macrobinoculars- I bounce between the four corners- you should only need to go between two positions... Needless to say, he would have to see what worked best for him. Hopefully his squad wouldn't notice that he had no idea what he was doing...

He decided to try the outskirts idea. He started in a corner of the site and started going around the outside. He would move a couple clicks, very cautiously, and get out to check with his macrobinoculars. After a while, his squad started getting restless, which he took as a sign that it was normal to move a bit quicker. So he moved about 6 or 7 clicks and got out of the ATR.

There it was. Hovering with his jetpack, he saw it with his very own eyes: a bloodied, half shot-to-death streaked velker. It was massive, but injured badly, presumably the blue milk run Alories left him. Thank You Alories! He thought confidently. He popped his head back inside the ATR and said, Alright crew, pile out!

They began to open fire on the poor velker, its screeches terrifying yet muffled by several clicks of gas, but he knew it was for the greater good. He looked upon his crew and felt a sense of pride seeing them in formation hovering in the air, rifles pointed in the same direction, except... Wait a minute, he thought to himself as he noticed a gap in the line of rifles. There hovered the Aleena, Alsten Endel, without a rifle! Just kind of flailing his arms around to make it look like he was doing something, fooling around with his equipment, as if he wouldn't be noticed!

Gav: ALSTEN, WHAT IN THE VICEROY'S NAME ARE YOU DOING!? WHERE IS YOUR STANDARD ISSUE!?

Alsten: SIR! I WAS WORRIED ABOUT MY JETPACK--BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!--CORRECTLY AND--SCREEEEEECH!--SURE IT--

Gav: ENOUGH! I CAN'T HEAR A KRIFFING THING YOU'RE SAYING! JUST STAND BACK AND--

Alsten: WHAT SIR? WHAT DID YOU SAY?

Gav flew over to him and pulled him behind the firing line before grabbing him by the pack straps and yanking him up close face to face.

Gav: STAY! PUT!

Eventually the screeching died down and the velker slowly fell out of the air into the gassy abyss. Turns out Alsten had lost his gun on the Basilisk, or someone took it thinking it was their issue, who knows. Thankfully, Gav had an extra emergency A280 in the cockpit.

Gav: This is my only extra A280. Use the strap, do NOT drop it or I will drop YOU off on this surface without propulsion! You got that?

Alsten: *gulp* Yes sir!

Return Fire

Once the city construction was under way, Gav and crew were on to the next spot. They proceeded as before, moving a couple clicks and going out to check. Eventually they came upon not one, but two velkers. Even from a distance they looked humongous. But they were just as skittish as the last one despite being in perfect condition. Without knowing where the attack was coming from, all they could do is fly around, to no avail. Eventually, both velkers succumbed to the rifles and the gas beneath them.

Another slab cleared, said Gav to himself. As they all started heading back to the ATR-6, they heard someone exclaim...

Alsten: SOMETHIN' BIT ME!

They all turned around to see Alsten holding his rear and groaning loudly. All of a sudden, the ATR-6 started getting pelted with projectiles. "AAaaAAh!!!" screamed Amseth, gripping his left shoulder. "TAKE COVER!" shouted Gav. They all retreated to the opposite side of the ship that was being peppered, mounted their rifles onto the roof of the ATR, and began to return fire. Gav went around and tended to Alsten and Amseth's wounds. "Hang in there!" he told them. Amseth was taking it well, as if he had seen action before. Alsten, on the other hand, was not so composed.

Alsten: MY ARSE IS ON FIRE!!

Gav: Hang in there Alsten! It looks like it went straight through, it's just a flesh wound!

Alsten: IT STINGS! I'M GONNA PASS OUT!

Gav grabbed Alsten and guided him back into the ship before returning to the fight. It was a long battle, but eventually Gav confirmed the last bandit had fallen using his macrobinoculars.

When they got back inside the ship, Alsten was crying.

Alsten: Sir... you saved my life... *sniffles* how can I ever repay you...

Gav: Alsten, I didn't save-- Gav paused... you can pay me back by getting back out there and helping us finish this mission.

Alsten: Yes sir! I just need a minute for the meds to kick in...

There She Glows!

Kuna's Tail VII had a way of making even the most hardened sentients feel small. Despite this, the crew was beginning to move like a proper unit and the work they were doing began to feel routine. The gunboat drifted along the perimeter lights-out, quiet under a lid of pale cloud, the gas below moving like a slow ocean with no waves. Gav felt that chill go up his spine again. What was a whisper before was now a pounding in his chest, but there was no stopping the gunboat. Whatever was going to happen, would happen.

They touched down at the next marker and fanned out. The whole crew now had their macrobinoculars up, but no one detected any movement. It was so eerie that even the Gamorreans stopped grumbling. Gav raised a gloved hand and the unit slid forward in twos, jetpacks feathering over the gas. The site's construction pylons stood like toothpicks stabbed into mist. They were a reminder that there was something here, otherwise the city construction would be underway; it was a reminder that battle was inevitable.

The first bandit group caught a bug and broke the quiet from the west scaffolds. HB-5s and BT 500s hammered the ATR's plating and sent sparks across the viewports. Amseth barely flinched, took a round across the pauldron, planted his A280 on the gunwale, and answered with neat, surgical bursts. The Gamorreans roared like someone had insulted their ancestry and hosed the scaffolds. Gav cut the air with his hand, called the ranges, and walked the fire in. Between the experience of the squad members and the power and range of their A280s, once they realized they didn't stand a chance, the west side folded fast.

Then the second group lit up from the south cranes. This position was a bit smarter due to the elevation. Shots licked the top of a Gamorrean's pack and sent him pinwheeling. Alsten yelped and threw himself under the ATR's wing, then popped back up, white-knuckled but determined, and for once remembered to check his safety before pulling the trigger. Eventually, one last quiet thud echoed and the return fire stopped.

"Hold your fire!" said Gav, holding up a closed fist.

Gav took a slow lap with the macros. The slab returned to that library hush he was starting to think was worse than noise. He opened his mouth to call it clear... when the shadows moved.

Shapes the size of frigates turned inside the fog, low and patient, as if the whole world were a lagoon and they had just surfaced to breathe. They came on without hurry, the way big things move when they do not need to prove how big they are.

Purrgils--you hear about them, you see holos. None of that prepares you for a living wall of muscle and light deciding your city site is now a mating ground, or your hyperlane is now a migratory path. Even at a distance their presence pressed at the chest. The nearest drifted across a bank of cloud and the entire squad went still, rifles aimed at the beasts but not quite aware that they might not fire even if Gav gave the word. But Gav knew the damage these creatures could cause and, unfortunately, it was their job to make sure the citizens of the Federation who started a life here did not have to worry about it. It was his job to make the tough calls, and it was the crew's job to follow orders. His next order was spoken in a monotone voice, to let the crew know that he knew the gravity of his call, and that it was okay that it did not feel good, but it was not him, but the Viceroy which was the decider, he a marshall of that will, and the crew an extension of him.

Fire.

The squad answered as one. A ragged volley of red lanced through the haze, striking along the purrgils’ flanks. The giants shuddered, not with fear but irritation, rolling in slow arcs as if to show just how little their rifles meant. Then the light began.

It started deep under the skin, a pulse of violet swelling into indigo, crawling the length of their bodies like lightning trapped under ice. The air itself seemed to hold its breath. Gav knew what was coming next. He had read reports, heard the stories, and in that moment, he understood why spacers dreaded this sight more than the creatures themselves.

The nearest purrgil blurred at the edges, its bulk dimming until it simply was not there anymore. The second followed, vanishing into the mist.

“High sky, reacquire!” Gav called.

Minutes later, the shapes resolved again, farther out. Another volley. Another bloom of violet. Another blink into nothing. The third time it happened, the glow rolling up the spine of the larger beast, Alsten’s voice cut through the comms:

“There she glows!”

Half the squad groaned, the other half laughed, and Gav could only shake his head. The name stuck instantly, repeated every time the halo began to build. The fight turned into a deadly game of dejarik... move, fire, vanish, repeat... each exchange drawing more from the crew’s dwindling reserves of patience and bacta.

They tried to box them in toward the pylons, tried to flank and drive them east, tried holding fire until they crossed the open lanes. None of it worked for long. Every time the light appeared beneath that thick hide, they were gone before the next breath.

On the sixth pass, the pair did not return. Whether they had decided to leave or had simply moved beyond the slab’s perimeter, Gav could not say. The mist closed behind them, leaving only silence and the faint shimmer of heat along the barrel of his rifle.

He scanned one last time with the macros, seeing nothing but the skeletal frame of the city-to-be. Then he slung the rifle and keyed the comm.

“Form up. We’re done here.”

As the ATR-6 lifted away, the crew settled into the familiar quiet that came after hard work without celebration. Their medkits were light, their packs lighter. Gav’s ribs ached where the bacta patch clung, and he could feel the sting of every bruise through his armor.

Time for that supply run, rearm, and rethink the plan. Maybe he could research what technology was available there come up with something before they got back. But he had to think fast...

Resupply, Regroup, Rethink

Gav set course for Dor, more specifically, the Endor Palace Member Outfitters, where even the most battered field team could walk away looking parade-ready.

The resupply run was deliberate. Fresh A280s with factory calibrations. Replacement armor plates. Macrobinoculars that didn’t lag. Jetpacks with more thrust than wheeze. And pairs of multisensor packs to try something Gav had read on his datapad while studying equipment holorecords... When they lifted again to return to the next slab, the crew looked sharper, heavier, and, Gav hoped, ready for a different style of fight.

This time, he planned to put eyes where the enemy didn’t expect them.

The east side got Alsten. At 17,11, the ridge ran close to where velkers had been spotted earlier, and the little Aleena’s discomfort was obvious.

Alsten: Sir, this is awfully close to them.

Gav shoved a multisensor pack into his chest.

Gav: That’s the point. You’ll be fine. Keep low, stay sharp, and if anything moves that shouldn’t, call it in.

Leaving him there felt wrong, but having a live scout in place could save the squad from being ambushed and get them all home sooner. From there, Gav moved the ATR-6 along the western perimeter, working toward 4,11. When the moment felt right, he brought the ship down and dropped another scout to cover the gap, an Ewok named Wolam Highwind, who took the multisensor pack and jumped out of the gunboat without so much as a word.

For a while, it worked. The east and west placements gave them early warnings and cut down on ambushes. But the gaps still showed. Gav had fallen into the same trap he had once mocked in others; he assumed the hostiles would stay to the middle because that’s where most of the fighting happened. That’s how you learned the hard way about the corners: you didn’t need to check them... until you did. And when the enemy slipped into that blind space, the range rings meant nothing. They could vanish completely, only to reappear where your lines were weakest.

The first warning came from the west. The Ewok posted there, who was armed and out in the open, suddenly lit up on sensors. Bandits had come out of nowhere, closing to within a click before anyone could react. The Ewok returned fire immediately, but the flash of his blaster only drew more rounds his way.

Gav didn’t think. He dove in with the squad, A280 singing, cutting down the closest threats before they could finish the job. By the time he reached the Ewok, the little scout was down, armor dented, weapon still gripped in one limp hand. The medics worked fast, but it was too late. The lesson to Gav was clear.

Every placement, every piece of kit, every decision had weight. Get it wrong, and you didn’t just lose your position; you risked sending someone home in a body bag.

Gav stood over the body bag as the medics loaded him aboard. As he entered the gunboat behind them, the crew stared at Wolam's body. They knew it was a risk they all understood when they signed up, some thought they would have made a different call or tried something different, some thought nothing at all. Whether they were mad, scared, or simply didn't want to feel the guilt that Gav was feeling, they couldn't look him in the eye. He knew he had to say something.

Gav: I know what you're all thinking. I made a bad call, and got Wolam killed. And you'd be right. This one's on me. And I don't know how I'm ever going to sleep again, or how I'm going to knock on his family's hut and give them the news. But if he hadn't have alerted us to the ambush, it may be more than just him laying there. But it's on me... it's on me... and I have to live with that... be thankful you don't...

His eyes started to water, but he held it back and got into the cockpit, set the autopilot to the next slab, and started scribbling in his holobook again. Going over all his notes, he had an epiphany, something became very clear... it was even riskier than the last idea... but if it worked, they would never lose the upper hand again. He heard the voice of Minister Oodoov in his ear, who had visited the Academy once to give a lecture on the scientific work that the Interior is responsible for...

...This is the dark art of experimenting; the field guides, the holorecords, the technical specifications... are sometimes a lie.

Castling Ewoks Formation

The next slab was to be run with the so-called "Castling Ewoks Formation," a peculiar formation Gav had concocted during his journaling session. The tactic was simple on paper: place two unarmed Ewoks, each fitted with multisensors, at fixed positions 1,21 and 20,21 on the slab grid. From these back-corner perches, their overlapping sensor fields made it nearly impossible for hostiles to slip away unseen. Why it worked so well was anyone's guess. Some swore it was the Ewoks' size and unarmed status that kept them invisible to the enemy’s targeting logic, their naturally good perception allowing them to setup sensors in just the right position; others claimed the bandits simply refused to acknowledge being threatened by something knee-high, unarmed, and furry.

The formation worked surprisingly well and the unit made quick work of the found pests, the Ewoks sensors preventing the enemy from evading their forces. It didn't make up for Wolam's death, which Gav would have to explain for when he got back, but he felt they were safer and more effective now than ever before.

Just as planned, Gav and crew linked up with Captain Parmenion on the way to the next site. He and the Joint Defense Fleet had been orchestrating the broader clearing effort. From here on, they would be working in conjunction with something they called the Gambit Maneuver, a "precision assignment protocol" designed to keep pressure on the remaining gaps in the planet’s defensive perimeter. Gav's role was to start in the middle of the planet at longitude 14, latitude 10, then head westward to support Director Minwolf and Crewman Goriski where the line stretched thin.

The first contact came quickly: a bandit group holding the approaches with a velker flock drifting just behind them. The initial exchange went badly. Their fire was heavy, the supply of bacta patches less effective than they had hoped. Shots burned through Gav's pauldron and left a dull ache in his side. He toggled comms to Minwolf for advice.

Gav: Director Minwolf, please advise, this isn't holding. The bacta is not working fast enough.

Minwolf: You need refills, not patches. And don’t use Ryfills unless you want to spend the next day poisoned.

He logged the warning. Survive the slab first, worry about the outfitter later.

The bandits continued to ignore the Ewoks, even as the little scouts relayed exact firing coordinates to the squad. Whether they could not detect them on sensors or simply could not bring themselves to target them, Gav didn't know. But their presence was decisive. With their eyes guiding the team, he kept the squad at the optimum range of nine clicks, far enough to blunt the worst of the incoming fire, close enough to land clean shots and conserve medical supplies. Within two controlled exchanges, the bandits were broken.

With that threat dealt with, their focus shifted to the velkers. According to his field notes, he had observed that they favored the far corners once disturbed, and the northeast quadrant was unnaturally quiet. If his calculations were right, moving to 12,7 would put then at exactly nine clicks from them. As he eased the ATR-6 into position, he pulled one of his last bacta patches and pressed it over the burn along my ribs. The cool sting was a small comfort.

Somewhere ahead, hidden in the shifting gas, the next fight was waiting.

Service Record

Dates	Rank	Directorate	Assignment	Work Experience
Y26 D233 - Present			Library Archivist	Published the series This Month in Trade Federation History Envisioned and authored the Library Charter Spearheaded the Chain of Command Project Launched the Continuity Restoration and Standardization Initiative Launched the Library Art Museum
Y26 D207 - Present			Developer	Integrate existing Asteroid Field Prospecting Tool into TFMS, incorporating database driven persistence and existing permissions system
Y26 D272 - Present			Savage Squirrels Flight Sergeant	Transported x4 Mammoth loads of Meleenium from an asteroid field depot to a main depot logging over 110 flight hours in 5 days (Year 26 Day 269-274). Mission required to execution of microjumping in order to avoid asteriod field damage to the rig exiting hyper on the wrong side of the field due to Endor's Gate X-1 as opposed to the desired Y+1 location of the depot. Constructed 3 mines and prospected X quadrants on a Gas Giant in X days, discovering X Tibannagas deposits.
Y26 D205 - Y26 D272			Savage Squirrels Cadet First Class	Prospect asteroid field with 13 revealed/11 unrevealed in 9 days averaging 5-6 scans a day for a total of 48 scans Transported x3 MC-30b to new system w/ G-1A taxi Cleared 15 slabs on Kuna`s Tail VII in 13 days
Y26 D205			Basic Training Cadet	Passed the Basic Training Standard Exam Took the Trade Federation Oath