Tales From The Empire

by Peter Schweighofer

  Taryn got it, right away.

  "The Messenger's not that big," she protested. "Not that fast,

  either.

  Besides, I work for the Core Courier Service, not for you.

  The New Republic can't just hijack my ship!"

  "Actually, we can," Bel Iblis said. "And will. But not for what you

  think." He leaned forward, looking grave.

  "We've got to get word to the sector fleets that the New Republic has

  evacuated Coruscant and will regroup at a new base. Secrecy is

  absolutely vital--we can't take the chance of the Empire tapping into

  any transmissions and overhearing the location of our rendezvous

  point.

  So," he spread his hands suggestively, "we send out couriers."

  Taryn remained silent. She suspected he hadn't said "courier" by

  chance.

  "Usually, we'd send out a messenger in an unmarked Intelligence ship,"

  Bel Iblis said. Bremen opened his mouth, and again, the general shot

  him a warning glance.

  "But we need everything we've got for the evacuation."

  "What if I refuse?"

  "You're welcome to remain here on Coruscant," Bel Iblis said. "Or

  leave on one of our transports. We'll recompense the courier service

  for use of the ship, of course."

  Some choice, Taryn thought sourly. Stuck here waiting for the

  stormtroopers, or on the run with the New Republic.

  She sighed. "So, when do we leave?"

  Once she'd thought about it, Taryn had to agree using the Messenger

  for cover was actually pretty clever.

  For one, the datacard--with its report on the retreat from Coruscant

  and the rendezvous location--was nicely anonymous, tucked in a crate

  with thousands of other datacards; communications bound for other Core

  Worlds.

  And that crate was just one among dozens exactly like it, stacked one

  on top of the other in the Messenger's hold.

  For another, the prospect of trying to sneak past an armada of Star

  Destroyers was almost made bearable by the sight the bulky Colonel

  Bremen made, stuffed into a spare uniform they'd scrounged up that was

  at least two sizes too small. Tugging at the too-tight collar, he

  stood in the cockpit doorway with the slight frown that never seemed to

  leave his face. Taryn didn't have to look away from her engine

  displays to know the uniform's pant legs ended somewhere above his

  ankles. Her mouth quirked slightly before she remembered Bremen was

  here to keep an eye on her and Del, and there was nothing funny about

  the situation they were in.

  Her hands tightened on the controls. "Go strap in," she ordered

  Bremen. "We're almost ready to lift." When he didn't move, she

  glanced over her shoulder questioningly.

  "What?"

  "I'll stay here," he said.

  She shrugged.

  "Do what you want." Del snorted. He and Bremen hadn't exchanged half

  a dozen words since the New Republic officer had come on board, but

  they clearly hadn't hit it off.

  "You should let me pilot," Bremen said, again. "This isn't some simple

  mail drop, you know."

  "No," Taryn said adamantly, as if this hadn't already been covered in

  Bel Iblis' office. "We made a deal. The New Republic can use my ship,

  but no one's flying it but me." Considering they were basically being

  shanghaied,

  she'd been surprised Bel Iblis had agreed. As it was, she half suspected the general had assigned Bremen to this mission just to

  get rid of him. The two clearly didn't get along. She glanced at

  Del.

  "Ready?"

  "Ready," he confirmed.

  She eased in the repulsors. Below, the comforting lights of Imperial

  City dwindled to pinpricks as they gained altitude.

  Bel Iblis had said the gaps between the surrounding Star Destroyers

  were guarded by smaller capital ships, so each pilot would have to pick

  their own escape route and make a run for it. "We got a course yet?"

  she asked Del.

  "Nav computer's working on it," he said. She threw a quick look at

  Bremen, balancing himself in the cockpit's doorway, then checked the

  sensors. Nothing close enough to worry about, but she'd have to stay

  sharp. Bel Iblis wanted as many ships as possible in the air and

  moving when he dropped the shield. With the whole swarm fleeing at

  once, they hoped to at least create a little confusion as they tried to

  sneak past the waiting Imperials.

  Flashes of light danced where the planetary shield was still getting

  blasted, the opalescent haze shifting and rippling as it was hit.

  Taryn changed course slightly, aiming for a clear spot, then checked

  her chronometer. Almost time.

  Del flipped on the comm, already tuned to the escape frequency, and as

  Taryn stared at the shield, she wondered what the people left below

  would face. Would the Empire be content to simply retake Coruscant and

  leave its citizens in relative peace? Or would it feel the need to

  punish them for not repulsing the New Republic in the first place?

  Either way, she was out of it now.

  "Ought to be down any time," Bremen said from behind her, where he too

  was watching the shield flash under the Imperial assault. "Too bad

  this thing doesn't have much in the way of weaponry."

  Taryn's mouth tightened at the slur to her ship. As she'd already

  pointed out, mail freighters weren't prime

  targets for anyone, even pirates. There was no need to go around bristling with

  armament--usually. At the moment, she conceded a little more firepower

  might come in handy.

  Several large masses started to register on the scopes, indicating the

  gauntlet ahead. Taryn had never seen so many Star Destroyers in one

  place, and another wave of self-doubt assailed her. She'd never done

  anything like this before, except in her imagination. Maybe she should

  let Bremen take the controls-And then, it was too late.

  "It's down," Bel Iblis' voice rang out over the comm.

  "Clear skies, people, and may the Force be with you!"

  The planetary shield was down, and the scramble was on.

  Far to port, Taryn was aware of a planet defender ion cannon being used

  from the surface to clear a path for some of the fleeing ships, but she

  kept to her own vector as they cleared the atmosphere and the waiting

  Imperial ships came into sight.

  There it was--her path to freedom--straight between two Star Destroyers

  flanked by five smaller Dreadnaughts.

  They looked like two ferocious Dorax dogs surrounded by feisty puppies,

  and she swallowed, edging the drive up to full. Even at top speed, the

  Messenger couldn't be called fast, and she could only hope they'd be

  overlooked in the swarm fleeing from the surface.

  And for a while, her hopes seemed answered. Aiming for a gap between

  the two Dreadnaughts furthest away from the Star Destroyers, the

  Messenger pelted along in the wake of another freighter, a transport,

  and a sleek starfighter. Alongside and slightly behind were two heavy

  transports. The Dreadnaughts fired, but with so many small targets,

  the shots were erratic and for the most part simply sizzled into

  space.

  Their sh
ield indicators were still green, they were nearly past the

  Dreadnaughts, and Taryn was beginning to think they just might make it

  unscathed when a sudden

  sharp lurch of the ship threw her and Del

  against their restraints, and sent Bremen tumbling forward to sprawl

  unceremoniously over the sensor scopes.

  "Get off!" she gritted, then clenched her teeth as another hard thunk

  spilled him to the deck. With a jolt, she saw a lot more ships around

  them than had been there a moment ago. Identification was easy as a

  TIE fighter roared past, firing at the transport ahead of them driving

  for deep space.

  "Del?" she said. The grizzled first mate needed no further urging,

  loosing a volley of laser fire at the TIE fighter harassing the

  transport up ahead. Behind them, a dull clunk indicated another hit,

  but Taryn kept going. Their course was calculated and set; if she

  could just get the Messenger a little further away from the planet,

  they could make the jump to lightspeed, and safety.

  One of the transports off to their side suddenly exploded in a fiery

  flash. Wincing, Taryn changed course slightly to steer clear of the

  twisted metal and spared a quick glance at the shield indicators.

  Only to wish she hadn't. The indicators had gone from green to red,

  and they flashed with each hit. A diagnostic message was forming on

  the panel, the sensors showed another of those blasted TIE fighters

  swooping up behind them, and Taryn didn't think the Messenger could

  take too many more hits.

  "Hang on," she warned Bremen, still on the deck, and threw the

  freighter into a dive. The TIE fighter shot past overhead, and as she

  brought the ship's nose back up, Taryn saw the starfighter ahead had

  circled back to help.

  The X-wing's laser cannon flashed as it screamed toward them, and on

  the scopes, one of the dots behind them disappeared. The X-wing turned

  its attention to the TIE fighter she'd shaken while Taryn swiped at the

  sweat on her face and put the drive to full again. Up ahead, the

  freighter and transport were nowhere to be seen. Either they'd already

  made it to safety--or they'd been destroyed.

  Del cursed as the Messenger shuddered from another series of hits to

  the rear. The shield indicators flashed red, then went black, and the

  diagnostic message began to blink. "We've lost the deflectors," Taryn

  shouted. Swallowing back the metallic taste of fear, she was poised to

  plunge the ship into another dive when the console pinged, indicating

  they'd reached their hyperspace point.

  Wrapping a hand around the levers and acutely aware of the TIE fighter

  closing in on them, she gently pulled back, and was rewarded by the

  sight of stars streaking to starlines, then fading into the mottled sky

  of hyperspace.

  Hurtling through hyperspace toward Coriallis, Del and Colonel Bremen

  had plenty of time to firmly establish their mutual dislike.

  Bremen didn't hide the fact that, as civilians, he didn't trust Taryn

  and Del to be competent. He made it clear he thought Bel Iblis should

  have commandeered the Messenger, kicked off her regular crew, and used

  an all-military crew to complete the mission.

  Taryn tried to shrug it off, but Del retaliated by offering up barely

  concealed barbs concerning the New Republic's ignominious retreat from

  Coruscant, while Bremen grew tighter-lipped with each crack. She

  thought the game childish, but as long as Bremen was busy with Del, he

  wasn't breathing down her back, so she didn't say anything about it.

  The two had disappeared into the hold more than an hour ago, and she

  stood in the wardroom, wiping grease off her hands. They would be

  changing course at Coriallis in a few hours, and she wanted to try out

  the newly repaired deflector system before it was actually put to the

  test.

  She never got the chance.

  As she strode toward the cockpit, the Messenger seemed to hesitate

  underfoot, then gave an awful shudder as stressed hull metal squealed

  in protest. Caught mid-step,

  Taryn grabbed at the bulkhead for balance, then got thrown to the cockpit as the ship seemed to slam into

  some immovable force. Clattering crates and a yelp sounded from the

  hold, while in front of her, the mottled sky of hyperspace unexpectedly

  became starlines, and then, with a final sickening lurch, coalesced

  into the starfield of realspace.

  They'd been forcefully yanked out of lightspeed, and Taryn didn't even

  have to check the scopes to know why.

  Straight ahead, filling the transparisteel port, was an Imperial

  Interdictor cruiser.

  Nor were they its first catch. A transsport with New Republic markings

  drifted nearby, linked with an Imperial shuttle. Taryn wondered if it

  were one of the many that had so recently fled Coruscant.

  "What happened?" Bremen demanded, pounding up th e corridor. she got

  to her feet. On his heels, Del sported a fresh gash on his forehead.

  No answer was necessary. the comm crackled to life and a brisk voice

  from the cruiser requital ordered them to prepare to be boarded.

  Taryn sank down in the pilot's seat, mind racing. The datacard was

  well hidden, and unless the Imperials were determined to read each and

  every nissive in the hold, she didn't think they'd find it. The

  thoroughness of their search would probably depend on how suspicious

  they were. Her and Del's identification was in order; Bremen might be

  harder to explain, but she'd think of something.

  Should she admit that they'd just come from Coruscant, or--?

  "I'll do the talking," Bremen announced, interrupting her thoughts.

  "You two keep quiet and let me handle it."

  He held out a hand, apparently expecting Taryn to hand over the

  captain's bars pinned to the front of her uniform. She stiffened.

  "No, I do the talking," she corrected him with some as perity.

  "You looked in a mirror lately?" Clad in that il fitting uniform, the

  Imperials would never believe he was

  captain of the Messenger.

  Ignoring Bremen's flush of outrage, she told Del, "Go back to the

  airlock. and wait to assist the boarding party."

  "Yes, ma'am," he said crisply, backing out of the cockpit.

  "Cooperate with them, fully," she called after him warningly.

  Outside, a shuttle from the Requital was approaching, but they still

  had a few minutes. Looking at Bremen, she raised an eyebrow. "Now.

  You were saying--?"

  "Do you have any idea how serious this is?" he snapped back.

  "What do you think they're going to do once they're on board? Take a

  look at your permits, tell you to have a good day, and just leave?"

  "I certainly hope so," Taryn said. "That seemed to be General Bel

  Iblis' idea behind using us as the courier.

  Look, I'm the captain here, and I have the proper ID to back it up.

  You have any better ideas?"

  His resistance was plain, but she did have a point.

  "Okay, then," Taryn said. "You don't talk unless you're spoken to, you

  do everything the Imperials ask, promptly and courteously, and if

  you're carrying any weapons, you lose the
m now, before they come on

  board. Understand?"

  Bremen's face looked as stiff as a droid's and his eyes glittered, but

  he managed a short nod. "Good," Taryn said, releasing a breath she

  hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Let's go back and meet our

  guests."

  While the Imperial shuttle pulled alongside, she dug out the

  Messenger's permits datapad. She just had time to get back to the

  airlock and straighten up authoritatively before it slid open and five

  Imperials strode in.

  The lead, a middle-aged man balding under his naval officer's cap,

  halted just inside while the other four troopers, all armed, fanned out

  in the corridor. "Commander Voldt," he briskly identified himself.

  "Who's in charge here?"

  "I am." Taryn stepped forward. "Captain Taryn Clancy, of the Core

  Courier Service. This is my crew."

  Voldt eyed her, gaze lingering on the curves of her uniform, then slid

  a glance over Del and Bremen. He noted Bremen's exposed ankles, then

  flicked pale eyes back to her. "Courier service? This a mail ship?"

  "Yes, sir," Taryn said. "En route to Coriallis."