Major Derek ‘Hobbie’ Klivian awoke with a start. The loud noise from the common room of his shared quarters still reverberated in his ears. Rubbing his eyes, he reached over and hit the night-light panel, casting the room in a warm glow. He sat for long moments as he strained to listen for further sounds and gasped when he heard the hydraulics of the outside door activate. He cautiously crawled out of bed and threw on a pair of cotton sleep-pants. Padding to his bedroom door, he listened carefully before hitting the door panel, revealing Major Wes Janson, his roommate and best friend, standing in his sleepwear surveying the mess in the common room.
"What happened?" Hobbie asked, stifling a yawn.
"Dunno, Hobbs." Wes said. He scratched his head and moved aside so his friend could see the over-turned table, dead vibro-blade and…
"Mooky!" Hobbie cried, scooping up the tiny stuffed Bantha. He hugged the toy to his chest as he stroked the matted and somewhat dirty fur. "What in the name of the Force happened?" He whispered, offering a glare for his friend.
"I don’t know, Hobbs," Wes shrugged. "Really I don’t. I got up to go to the ‘fresher and as I opened my door, I saw someone dressed all in black kneeling over the table…I - I guess I scared him away before anything could happen."
Hobbie swallowed the lump in his throat and stood up. "Wes, I want you to know that I am eternally in your debt for saving Mooky’s life, but please know that as your reputation for a prankster still stands, you are not above suspicion in this case."
"Saving Mooky’s life? He’s a stuffed Bantha for crying out loud!" Wes snorted. He paused momentarily as Hobbie’s words sank in fully. "Uh, case? What case? Hobbie!"
But all that answered him was the swish of his roommate’s door.
Continued in Part Two