Tales From The Empire

by Peter Schweighofer

  "Where from?"

  She'd already decided there was no sense lying. The vector on which

  they'd been yanked out of hyperspace pretty well spelled it out.

  "Our last scheduled stop was coruscant," she told him. "But we dropped

  into the system, saw what looked like the entire Imperial fleet around

  the planet, and decided to give the place a pass. Didn't want to get

  mixed up in anything, you know?"

  He nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced.

  "You didn't deliver your shipment?" he asked. "Don't your employers

  promise prompt delivery?"

  Taryn allowed herself to look slightly taken aback.

  "Well, yes," she said. "But they frown on dropping in on a war zone

  even more."

  Voldt stared at her, then snorted. In amusement, or disbelief, she

  couldn't tell. At his casual hand gesture, two of the troopers

  disappeared to search the ship. "Let's see some identification," he

  suggested.

  "Certainly." Taryn passed him the permits datapad. He transmitted the

  ship's license and registry information to the Requital to be checked

  out, then inspected their identification, raising an eyebrow when

  Bremen failed to produce an ID. Bremen managed to look both

  embarrassed and earnest as he muttered, "Sorry, sir. Got robbed in

  port."

  Voldt flicked that speculative glance over his uniform again.

  "Looks like that's not all they took," he commented.

  "How inconvenient for you."

  Bremen nodded. Voldt stared at him a moment longer, then glanced at

  the two troopers returning from search

  ing the ship. "No one else aboard, sir," one reported, while the Other stepped up holding two

  blasters.

  "Who do these belong to?" Voldt asked.

  "That one's mine," Taryn said, indicating the blaster she kept hidden

  under the sleep pad in her cabin. She looked at Bremen and Del.

  "Whose is this?"

  "Mine, Capt'n." Del stepped forward. "I know you don't like us

  carryin' on board, so I had it stashed in my bunk. Sorry," he added,

  looking sheepish.

  "We'll discuss it later," she said repressively, wondering where Bremen

  had "lost" his weapon so it wouldn't be found.

  Voldt gave her an unfathomable look, then nodded to the trooper, who

  stepped back, still holding both blasters.

  He handed the datapad back to Taryn. "Captain, I'd like to see the

  contents of your hold, if I may."

  Despite the phrasing, it wasn't a request.

  Taryn led the way, trying to gauge how suspicious the Imperials were,

  and how complete they might insist on making this search. So far,

  Voldt's manner hadn't given anything away. Casually, she looked over

  her shoulder. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, why were we

  stopped?

  Is this some sort of checkpoint?"

  There was no mistaking the amused snort this time.

  "You could call it that," Voldt said dryly. His eyes were fixed on the

  sway of her dark hair against her back. "It could be considered a

  checkpoint for traitors."

  "Traitors?" she echoed, carefully.

  "Traitors to the Empire," he said, finally looking up as they reached

  the hold. "Rebels, fleeing from Coruscant.

  We've driven them off and rescued the populace from their terrorist

  ways, but now, like the cowards they are, they're scurrying off to

  wherever they think they'll find safety." His thin lips turned up in

  an unpleasant smile.

  "We don't intend to let them run too far."

  Taryn wondered if Interdictor cruisers were sitting along all of the

  most well-traveled hyperspace lanes leading from Coruscant. If so, a

  good many fleeing ships had

  undoubtedly fallen right into the Imperials' trap, including that transport she'd spotted earlier.

  Perhaps even themselves.

  She shook off the thought. No, so far we're doing fine. The only

  thing to worry about was the datacard, and that was well hidden

  somewhere inside the crates that filled the hold. Reassured, she keyed

  open the door and gestured for Voldt to step in.

  He did, glancing around the room and then stepping over to peer at the

  stacks of sealed crates. "These are bound for Coriallis," he noted,

  studying the labels on the outermost crates.

  "Yes, sir, that's our next stop," Taryn confirmed.

  "But where's the shipment you didn't leave on Corus-cant?"

  He swung to face her, one eyebrow raised in query.

  Where was it, indeed? Taryn's stomach clenched as she considered the

  question. Not only had they delivered the mail bound for the Imperial

  Palace, but they'd off-loaded the regular Coruscant mail, too.

  There was nothing here to back up her assertion that they hadn't landed

  on the planet.

  Excuses vied for space on the tip of her tongue, but before she could

  blurt any of them out, Del stepped forward.

  "I moved 'em out of the way, Capt'n," he said, and indicated three

  crates piled haphazardly in the far corner.

  Each was labeled bound for Coruscant, and she held her breath as Voldt

  insisted on opening up all three. But randomly picking out datacards

  to inspect, he found them all properly labeled with Coruscant

  destinations. Relieved, Taryn slanted a glance at her first mate,

  wondering whose mail had been borrowed to pull off this masquerade.

  Clearly, Del and Bremen hadn't spent all their time back here

  bickering.

  "Hmmph," Voldt grunted as he replaced the last crate's lid, and looked

  around the hold as if hoping to find Mon Mothma herself hiding among

  the load lifters.

  Pointing at two of the troopers, he ordered all the crates examined.

  But the search was cursory, with the troopers merely opening them up

  and confirming there was mail inside.

  Brusquely ordering the crates resealed, Voldt motioned for Taryn and

  crew to follow him, and strode back down the corridor to the airlock.

  Calling the Requital, he confirmed that the Messenger's permits were in

  order and then, looking somewhat disappointed, told Taryn the were free

  to go.

  Trying not to let her relief show, she had to work harder to keep from

  shooting a told-you-so look at Bremen. The four troopers rejoined

  them, and after an unexpected handshake from Voldt, during which he

  held on a tad too long for Taryn's liking, the Imperials headed back to

  their ship.

  She got the nav computer busy recalculating their course, then turned

  the freighter around and drove for the stars, trying to grab enough

  distance to jump to lightspeed.

  Glancing again at the captured New Republic transport, Taryn wondered

  what fate awaited its occupants.

  When the console finally pinged, she cupped her hand around the

  hyperdrive levers, gently pulled them back, and gratefully left that

  particular'problem behind.

  Not that she didn't still have problems, she thought in exasperation

  nearly a week later, staring out at the empty expanse of space before

  them and acutely aware of Bremen looking over her shoulder, as usual.

  The rest of the trip to Coriallis had been uneventful, and once there,

  Bremen had programmed th
e nav computer with a new course. Since then,

  they'd dropped in and out of hyperspace a dozen times on their way to

  intercept one of the New Republic's battle fleets, somewhere in the

  Borderlands.

  At least, Taryn thought it was the Borderlands. She

  didn't recognize

  the majority of the places they popped 'in on, and Bremen saw no reason

  to enlighten her--about their location, or anything else. He curtly

  informed her she'd get control of the Messenger back once they

  intercepted the fleet and delivered the message.

  Well, here they were at the intercept point. So where was the fleet?

  "They might be a little late," Bremen said, and Taryn glanced over her

  shoulder to see a furrow creasing his brow. "They are scheduled to be

  here," he added at the expression on her face.

  "If they don't know we're coming, what are they scheduled to meet?"

  she asked. Bremen ignored the question; clearly, this was yet another

  bit of information that mere civilians couldn't be trusted with. Since

  they'd dropped into the outer edges of a system and were skulking

  around like thieves instead of getting closer to one of the planets,

  Taryn figured the New Republic had an outpost here that its fleet was

  checking up on. Bremen just didn't want to get close enough for her

  and Del to take a look.

  She sighed. Despite a week of close quarters living, or perhaps

  because of it, Bremen wasn't any easier to get along with. She'd

  finally had to order Del to stop his nee-dling--if only she could order

  Bremen to knock off his condescending manner, as well. His attitude

  reminded her far too strongly of her father.

  Because it was possible the fleet had been delayed, and because they

  really had nowhere else to go, the Messenger simply drifted for the

  next several hours. Taryn was sitting in the cockpit staring out at

  the stars and trying to recall astrogation charts of the Borderlands

  region when Bremen came in and dropped into the co-pilot's seat.

  Mildly surprised, she glanced over as he studied the long-range

  sensors. He'd finally stopped hovering over her, apparently reassured

  she wasn't going to break into the nav computer to find out where they

  were if he didn't keep an eye on her every minute. Naturally, she had,

  only

  to find that all records of their past several jumps had been erased.

  So it wasn't so much a matter of trust, as that it simply didn't

  matter.

  "You don't think much of us, do you?" she said.

  He took his time looking up. "Pardon?"

  "It's not just you and your New Republic on the line here, you know.

  It's me and Del, too," she said. "If you're caught, we're caught. You

  think we're going to do anything to mess this thing up?"

  "Not deliberately, no," he conceded. "But accidents happen. What

  about when Voldt wanted to see the Corus-cant mail--you hadn't thought

  of that, had you? What if there hadn't been anything to show him?"

  "That cloak and dagger stuff is your department," she retorted, but the

  comment stung. He was right; and instead of getting defensive, she

  should admit it and learn from the experience. "That doesn't justify

  treating us like dimglows, and keeping me in the dark about where we're

  going. I have a right to know."

  He folded his arms and gave her a level stare. "Captain Clancy, it's

  no secret I don't think you or Del Sato should have been allowed on

  this mission. You're civilians, and more of a hindrance than a help.

  You can't be expected to make the kind of split-second decisions needed

  to keep us out of trouble."

  Taryn flushed, and concentrated on keeping her temper as he

  continued.

  "But you're here anyway, so consider being 'kept in the dark' as your

  protection. If you don't know anything, you can't give it away."

  "What do you take me for?" she asked, affronted. "If I wanted to give

  you up, I would've done it when Voldt was aboard. You'll notice I

  didn't."

  "No, you didn't," he agreed. "But it's better to be prepared than be

  sorry."

  Taryn was debating whether it was even worth discussing any further

  when she was saved from a decision by a sudden blip on the sensors.

  A ship, emerging from hyperspace about 30 kilometers away.

  She reacted before Bremen did, flipping switches to start bringing the

  engines on line. "Del!" she yelled down the corridor, trying to

  maneuver the sluggish Messenger around to face the oncoming ship. As

  it came into view, Taryn identified it as a slightly battered-looking

  Skipray blastboat, with no markings indicating who it might belong

  to.

  But it clearly wasn't the fleet.

  Great, she thought grimly even as the comm light flashed, indicating

  the starfighter was hailing them. She flipped it on as Del arrived,

  noting the engines were only up to point three-five power.

  They wouldn't be able to run, just yet.

  A cool female voice came over the comm speaker. "Unidentified

  freighter, do you need assistance?" it asked, as the Skipray slanted

  to the side a bit, putting it just out of line with the Messenger's

  laser cannon. Taryn kept the freighter turning to face the potential

  threat as she answered.

  "This is Captain Clancy of the Messenger, and thanks, but no, we're

  fine," she said quickly, before Bremen could jump in. He got out of

  Del's seat and stood in the small space between them, frowning out at

  the blastboat.

  "Captain Clancy? You're just who I'm looking for," the voice said as

  Taryn took another look at her displays. Up to point six-five power;

  at least they could start moving.

  She started the ship sidling away as the Skipray's pilot asked, "I

  wonder if I might speak with your guest?"

  An unexpected request, and there was a slight inflection on the last

  word that made Taryn glance up at Bremen. To her surprise, he appeared

  to 'be gritting his teeth. "This is Bremen," he said shortly.

  "Ah, Colonel. This is Mara Jade," the pilot identified herself.

  "I see you made it off Coruscant in one piece."

  She sounded vaguely amused.

  "Get to the point," Bremen snapped. Taryn and Del

  looked at him in

  astonishment. Even at his most supercilious with them, he'd never been

  downright rude.

  "The point is that your rendezvous with the Borderlands fleet is off,"

  she said, clearly unruffled. "They took a detour, and won't be through

  here for days. High Command's already sent a new courier out to their

  location, so you're off the hook."

  "I wasn't notified of any change," Bremen said.

  "You're being notified."

  "Why'd they send you?" he shot back.

  "Because word of the fleet's location came through one of my contacts

  in the smuggler's coalition," she said.

  "Information is what we're getting paid for."

  Now Taryn thought she understood Bremen's animosity.

  If this Mara Jade were a smuggler, Bremen's law-and-order stance

  wouldn't allow him much in the way of tolerance. "Do you have any

  confirmation of that?" he was asking.

  "Just the fleet
's new location," she answered coolly. "If you're

  ready, I'll transmit it to you." A data feed light on the panel lit

  up, and a series of numbers scrolled past on the display. "Not that

  you need it," she added. "High Command said you could go on home."

  "Thanks, but maybe we'll just stick around here a while longer," Bremen

  said, clearly still suspicious.

  There was a pause from the Skipray. "Suit yourself," Mara finally

  said. The comm light winked out as the ship swung around and started

  heading away. Before Taryn could ask Bremen how long he planned to

  wait, another ship suddenly dropped into space ahead of them.

  Bremen swore viciously even as Taryn recognized the distinctive shape

  of a Carracks-class cruiser. "Go, go!" he barked at her as the comm

  light lit up again and a harsh voice ordered them to stop or be

  destroyed. Taryn turned the freighter away from the cruiser's ominous

  bulk and slapped at the thrust. She and Del were slammed back in their

  seats as the Messenger leapt forward, Bremen somehow managing to hang

  on as they drove for deep space.