That's It, The Rebels Are There!

When we last left our heroes - the fun-loving foursome, heavy one Mon Cal - they were winding their way through the snowy mountains of North-Western Corellia, battling through deadly predators and vicious Flails, while avoiding Imperial Patrols at the same time. This was no leisurely evening stroll, but a mission to the unknown; designed upon the tell of a passing rumor.

Travel on foot was the only option. We shared good chatter along the way, tasking only one at a time for the navigation, while the others formed a chain, following the one ahead of them. We would march single-file to destination or doom, as destiny would dictate.

And if all of this sounds overly-dramatic, it's only because my memory of it has colored it so. If one might guess that this journey did not end in disaster, one would be correct; else why would I have been taking a stab at so much melodrama?

So let's just get to it, shall we?

Fittingly, the waypoint was fixed just over a peak, forcing us to wait until the last possible moment to see if this had all been for naught. Filing to the edge, we looked down with wonder: we had arrived at the secret Rebel Base.

The idea of an orderly march was thrown out the window. We raced down the cliff and charged around like kids in a candy store, weekly allowances gripped in our fists.

Our journey was complete. But we were about to learn that the base itself was not the only reward.