by Jason Fry
Which is probably a terrible idea.
She had time to try another name or two. She scanned the list of birthdates, then tapped the screen.
Hello, Kinera Tiree—who are you?
A quick search revealed that Kinera Tiree was the daughter of the Imperial education minister on Lothal.
Just right, Merei thought as she blanked her screen.
The speeder van was white, but so covered with dirt and dents that its color was all but undetectable. It slowed with a whine of poorly tuned repulsorlifts, stopping alongside Merei where she sat astride her jumpspeeder outside an abandoned repair shop whose holograph sign kept spitting out sad little blurs of color.
The driver was a mustachioed alien of a species she didn’t know, with five eyes arranged in an X and hidden behind mirrored lenses.
“Get in back,” it rumbled.
“What about my jumpspeeder?” Merei asked.
“Leave it.”
“In this neighborhood?”
“Lock it up, then. You’ve got one minute. Things go right, someone will bring you back.”
“And if things go wrong?”
The alien shrugged and laughed, revealing a throat filled with wicked, inward-pointing spines.
Merei locked up her jumpspeeder and the alien inclined its head toward the back of the van. The doors opened to reveal a pair of grubby-looking human males and a Rodian female whose mane of crimson spikes made for a bizarre contrast with her green skin. Merei hesitated, then scrambled up into the van. The doors slammed shut and the van took off almost immediately. Merei stumbled and the Rodian grabbed her.
“Search her,” she said in a honking voice.
The men’s hands were rough and impersonal. The trio just laughed when Merei glared at them. Then they aimed a handheld scanner at her, telling her to turn around.
“She’s clean, boss,” one of them said.
“Might have a hidden transmitter, though,” said the other. “Saw that in a gang war on Tirahnn. Want me to open up her skull and check? It just makes a little hole.”
They’re just trying to scare you, Merei told herself, crossing her arms and taking a seat on a bench against the wall. The men and the Rodian laughed, then ignored her as the van stopped and started, turning left and right in rapid succession.
After a few minutes the van eased to a halt, settling on its repulsorlifts with a sigh. The Rodian opened the back of the van and indicated for Merei to go first. She found herself in an alley choked with trash, its mouth blocked by the speeder van. Halfway down, the Rodian rapped on a metal door. Inside was a filthy kitchen where a burly Aqualish leaned against the cooktop, cleaning a blaster pistol. He exchanged nods with the Rodian, who shoved Merei in the back.
Beyond the kitchen was a dilapidated tavern dominated by an L-shaped bar, its countertop lined with network terminals. A motley collection of young humans and aliens looked up at Merei curiously, then returned to their keyboards. The ceiling was patched and marred by long streaks of soot. Blackout curtains covered the windows, and thugs of various species sat in little groups at the mismatched tables and chairs.
The Rodian murmured into her comlink, then wrinkled her snout in annoyance.
“The boss says you got two minutes. This way.”
Merei stumbled over a deep gouge in the floor as she trailed the Rodian through the back room and up a narrow flight of stairs to a door. It opened and the Rodian shoved Merei inside. A large window missing its glass overlooked an anonymous street that might have been anywhere in Old City. Three porcine Ugnaughts were taking turns measuring the frame, squealing and jabbing knobby fingers at one another.
“So you’re the schoolgirl whose hobby is snoopers,” said a booming voice. It belonged to a heavyset man sitting in the corner behind an Imperial officer’s desk. His network terminal was glossy black and state of the art.
“That’s right,” Merei said neutrally as the Rodian settled herself onto a nerfhide couch that was losing its stuffing, one hand near the blaster pistol strapped to her hip.
“And if for some reason I agreed to supply such a program, what specifications would it have?”
“Archive of logged keystrokes, ability to monitor and record traffic across all network channels, transmission to an external node according to my specifications, keystroke/traffic logs encrypted using a key I’d supply, and a built-in self-destruct that erases the snooper from the active node and any archives after a time period I set.”
The man behind the desk chuckled. He had a preposterous blond pompadour and blue eyes that were bright with intelligence.
“Is that all? You don’t need a spare military droid brain to generate tactical recommendations for a sector fleet? Or the services of Emperor Palpatine’s top infochant?”
“Not at the moment,” Merei said. “If things change, I’ll let you know.”
“I bet you will,” the man said, struggling to lift his feet onto the desk. He was wearing lilac bedroom slippers, Merei noted with amusement. “What you’re asking for isn’t cheap. You better not be wasting my time.”
“I’ve got the credits,” Merei said.
“Glad to hear it. Time we were formally introduced. I’m Yahenna Laxo. And you’re in the new headquarters of the Gray Syndicate.”
That seemed a bit much for a bunch of slicers barely out of V-SIS and a handful of Old City thugs, but Merei limited herself to a nod and the faintest hint of a smirk.
Laxo saw it anyway.
“Vizago himself has used our services,” he rumbled, eyes narrowing in anger. “We know everything that happens in Capital City. Such as the fact that you’re Merei Spanjaf, freshwoman at V-SIS, recent immigrant from Corulag, and now, it seems, an apprentice criminal. That would come as a surprise to the Imperial network contractors you call Mom and Dad.”
Merei’s mouth was suddenly very dry.
“What’s the matter, kid, Loth-cat got your tongue? Don’t look so surprised—no way I was letting you get within a kilometer of my shop without knowing who you are. What I can’t figure out, Merei Spanjaf, is why you’re here and what you want with a snooper. Care to enlighten me?”
“No,” Merei said. “There aren’t enough credits on Lothal for me to tell you that.”
Laxo laughed long and loud, putting his hands on his belly. The Ugnaughts looked up from their work and squealed at each other in puzzlement, then shrugged.
“I like you, kid,” Laxo said. “I know Rosey thinks I shouldn’t—she keeps hoping I’ll tell her to shoot you—but I do. Keep your secrets, Merei Spanjaf, but if I’m going to help you, you have to do something for me. I’ve got a package I need brought to someone at the marketplace.”
“What kind of package?” Merei asked, thinking Laxo didn’t have to shoot her to get rid of her—he could do that just as effectively, and more safely, by setting her up to be found carrying something illegal.
“There aren’t enough credits on Lothal for me to tell you that,” Laxo said with a grin. “When you leave I’ll get on the comm. Hand the package over as instructed and you’ll get a drive containing the code for your snooper.”
Merei heard Rosey get up from the couch behind her. She scowled, but didn’t see an alternative to helping Laxo.
“All right,” she said, turning so quickly that Rosey took an involuntary step backward, skin flushing a darker green with annoyance. “Let’s get moving, then.”
“Glad to have you working for me,” Laxo said with a grin.
“I don’t work for you,” Merei said.
“We’ll see about that,” Laxo said as the door shut behind her.
The cadets could tell from the moment Currahee began yelling that something special was happening—the squat sergeant was even louder than usual, and stopped to look each cadet in the eye where he or she stood in front of a bunk.
Currahee grunted and marched to the middle of the barracks, staring up and down the lines of cadets.
“You will assemble by units in the main hanga
r in ten minutes!” Currahee blared. “You will be wearing helmets! You will be wearing harnesses! You will be prepared for action!”
“About time we wore these things,” Jai said. “Wonder what they’re for?”
Zare just shook his head. Dhara had told him about many aspects of cadet life, from the dawn runs to security measures in Imperial headquarters, but she’d never mentioned the harnesses.
The cadets marched through the halls of the Academy and entered its massive main hangar. AT-DPs were arrayed on both sides of the huge chamber, their heads looking wobbly on their tall, spiderlike legs. The blast doors leading to the plaza outside the Academy were closed.
Zare double-checked the straps on his harness and lowered the faceplate on his helmet. A double line of stormtroopers entered the hall, their white armor glossy under the overhead lights. As the cadets elbowed each other, the troopers lined up on either side of the massed students.
Currahee and Chiron walked into the hall, faces serious. They halted in front of the cadets, who instinctively came to attention. Currahee walked up and down the lines, hands behind her back, and barked at cadets to shorten harness straps, attend to blemishes on their boots, and straighten cuffs and belts.
Satisfied, the sergeant rejoined Chiron. A section of the floor slid aside and the two officers saluted, the cadets hurriedly copying the motion. A platform rose into the air. Atop it, Zare recognized the lean, cadaverous figure of Commandant Aresko next to the broad bulk of his assistant, Grint.
The platform settled to the hangar floor and Aresko stepped off, followed by Grint. The commandant extended a black-gloved hand and Grint placed a datapad into it. Aresko glanced up and down between the datapad and the cadets.
“Welcome to the assessment hall,” Aresko said. “All four of these squads are at less than full complement. Sergeant Currahee? What became of Cadet Illorus, Unit Forn?”
“Dismissed after second failure to achieve objectives during combat training, sir,” Currahee said.
“I see,” Aresko said. “And Cadet O’Harlan, Unit Esk?”
“Voluntary withdrawal at end of orientation, sir,” Currahee said.
“Very well.” Aresko continued up and down the lines of cadets, quizzing Currahee and Chiron about each missing member of the class, until he had returned to his platform.
“And Cadet Symes, Unit Aurek?”
“Voluntary withdrawal, sir.”
Zare steeled himself not to look at Oleg.
“Winnowing out the unworthy is an essential part of the process of finding the best cadets to keep our Empire strong,” Aresko said. “You have proven that you are those cadets—Lothal’s best and brightest. Over the next couple of weeks, your units will be brought back to full strength through transfers from Lothal’s other regional academies. But those cadets will find it is no easy task living up to the example you have set so far. My congratulations to you all. At ease, cadets.”
The hangar erupted in noise as the cadets hugged, slapped palms, and cheered. Jai and Zare raised their faceplates, beaming, and shook hands. Caught up in the moment, Zare even gave Oleg an answering nod.
He regretted it immediately.
“A transfer cadet will be no competition,” Oleg sneered. “Whoever he is, he won’t have been through orientation like we have. We’ll eat him alive.”
“He’ll be part of our unit, Oleg,” Zare said. “That means we’ll work together. All of us.”
“Cadets! At attention!” Currahee blared.
Aresko and Grint’s platform had risen some ten meters above the hangar floor.
“And now, cadets, the next phase of your training begins,” Aresko said, his voice amplified. “Over the rest of the term you will undergo numerous assessments—designed to measure your physical prowess, mental acuity, leadership skills, and strategic adaptability.”
The cadets remained rigid, staring at the platform above their heads.
“Many of these assessments will be conducted here—the floor beneath your boots can be remotely configured in any number of ways,” Aresko said. “This facility is basic—progress far enough as servants of the Empire and one day you might see what a course on Raithal or even Carida is like. But it will suit our needs. Your first assessment begins…right now.”
Currahee and Chiron herded the cadets into a ring, glancing back and forth from their feet to the floor. Jai and Zare looked at each other nervously. Zare lowered his faceplate and Jai did the same.
The floor inside the ring suddenly dropped away, becoming a pit lined with a grid of white light. Several cadets took involuntary steps backward. Zare saw Grint and Aresko exchange a smile. Platforms detached themselves from the walls of the pit, floating across on repulsorlifts before being reabsorbed by the opposite wall.
“This is the Well, cadets,” Aresko said. “You’ll come to know it intimately.”
Zare leaned over to peer into the pit, but Jai tugged on the back of his harness. A moment later a Pillar rose from the bottom of the pit, thickening as it ascended to floor level. It nearly filled the ring of cadets as it rose, halting a meter above their heads. Zare looked at the surface of the Pillar and saw rings appear from its smooth sides—rings that began to blink a pale green.
“And this, cadets, is the Pillar. I’d suggest you find an attachment point.”
Zare stepped forward and clipped the carabiner on his harness to the ring closest to him, holding on and bracing his feet against the Pillar where it intersected the floor. In ones and twos the other cadets did the same.
Suddenly the Pillar shot upward, carrying the cadets with it.
“Going up!” yelled Oleg where he clung to his ring next to Zare.
The Pillar stopped rising two meters shy of the hall’s ceiling. Zare braced his feet against the side of the Pillar and risked a look down. The AT-DPs and the stormtroopers looked small from up there.
The platform occupied by Aresko and Grint floated near the top of the Pillar.
A chime sounded in Zare’s helmet.
“Climb down, cadets,” Aresko said calmly. “QUICKLY!”
Zare tried not to think of how far it was to the floor of the hall. He spotted a ring a meter below his feet to the right. He checked that his carabiner was firmly attached to the ring, released the lock on his primary belay loop, and rappelled down to the ring, onto which he locked his secondary belay loop’s carabiner. He tugged at it to verify it was locked, then released the other carabiner.
Zare risked a look around. Several cadets were tugging at their harnesses, no doubt regretting having not spent more hours learning how they worked. A cadet from Unit Dorn slipped and fell and wound up dangling beneath his waist belt, kicking helplessly.
Zare, Jai, and Oleg began to descend, swinging back and forth in search of rings. As Zare searched, a platform emerged below his feet, while above him part of the Pillar retracted, forming a narrow rectangular cave.
Jai unlocked his carabiner and jumped two meters down, landing on a platform with a grunt—a risky maneuver, but one that gave him a lead in the race to the floor. He shook his head, momentarily dazed, and attached his line to a nearby ring just as the platform beneath him began to retract.
Zare and Oleg looked around and spotted a platform emerging below them. Zare unlocked his carabiner and dropped to the new surface, falling onto his butt and fumbling for a ring. Oleg landed beside him, slipped, and fell onto his face. Zare grabbed his harness’s waist belt before he could tumble over the edge.
“Don’t touch me, Leonis,” Oleg growled, but Zare was already scanning for the next platform below them.
He reached the bottom and raised his faceplate, breathing hard. Jai grinned at him where he stood in a knot of other cadets. He held up three fingers.
“Sixth, Leonis,” Currahee said.
A cadet from Unit Besh landed on the deck beside Zare, followed a moment later by Oleg. They moved aside as more cadets arrived, looking up at those hanging forlornly with no platform within reach. Then the
chime signaling the end of the exercise sounded.
“At ease,” Aresko said from above. “Winners are Cadets de Grom, Wheeler, and Kell. Well done. Each of you qualifies for an extra dessert ration and free period. The top three finishers in each assessment will receive rewards—including weekend passes and work details at Imperial headquarters. But as you’ve discovered today, earning these rewards will not be easy. You will have to find new levels of courage and ingenuity. I wish you good luck, cadets. Squads dismissed.”
The cadets whooped, with two members of Unit Esk already arguing what to do with the weekend jaunt they’d win. But Zare was thinking only of Imperial headquarters. If he could get inside headquarters, perhaps he could discover what the Empire had done with Dhara.
Which meant he had to win those assessments.
“Mom! I’m home!”
Merei brought the bags into the kitchen, where her mother was chopping vegetables at the counter. She took out the prairie-fowl breasts and tubers and set them in front of Jessa, who looked them over and nodded approvingly. Then her mother’s eyes jumped to the other bag over Merei’s shoulder.
“What’s the rest of that stuff?” she asked.
“Oh, just some things for school,” Merei said offhandedly, hoping that would be enough for her mother. Gandr Spanjaf could figure out the architecture of a network a sector away while not noticing something right in front of his face, but Jessa rarely missed anything, whether it was being two minutes late for curfew or the single typo in a school essay. She noticed things, which was bad, and she asked questions, which was worse.
Merei hurried up the stairs, only relaxing when she was far enough away to claim she hadn’t heard her mother calling after her. She tossed the bag into the top of her closet, wondering what her mother would have thought if she’d seen Merei had bought three fingertip-sized network drives, a book of old-fashioned flimsi receipts, and a secondhand T-shirt from the Phelarion School.
