too."
By the time pairor joined him, he had the door open and was sitting in
the driver's seat. "Yeah, this'll do just fine," he said, pulling the
weapons board out for a closer look. "Are you hunters any good with
non-traditional stuff like light laser cannon and concussion grenade
launchers?"
"A shturlan can work with all weapons," Pairor said, dropping his
appropriated blaster rifles onto the rear seat and peering in over
Trell's shoulder.
"Good--you're hired," Trell said, starting to strap himself in.
"I'll drive."
Trell wasn't sure what exactly was happening out in the woods
surrounding Thyne's fortress. But whatever it was, it definitely
seemed to be getting worse. The forest was alive with the muted
flickers of multiple blaster fire, the light peeking coyly out through
gaps in the leaf canopy
on at least two sides of the stronghold. "I
sure hope they're too busy out there to bother with us," he muttered as
he eased the airspeeder through the opening and onto the landing pad
just outside the bunker. "Corran and Hal are going to have their hands
full getting through all that."
"But less trouble than it could be," Pairor said. "Do you not
remember? Thyne has dispersed many of his people on errands."
Trell grimaced. "Yeah, I remember. One group to go grab our cargo,
the other to snatch Maranne and Riij."
"But at Jodo Kast's recommendation," Pairor reminded him. "If Kast is
truly here to oppose Thyne, then he will not allow harm to come to our
companions."
"I don't buy that," Trell growled. "Even if Corran and Hal were right
about that, it doesn't mean he cares slork droppings about the rest of
us. And that assumes they were right, which we don't have any proof
of. Personally, I'd say there's an even chance that Thyne and Kast
cooked up the whole thing together to expose a couple of undercover
CorSec agents and lure 'em into a trap. In which case, they're
probably already dead."
"If so, then we should be likewise," Pairor pointed out.
"Who are we that Kast would allow us to escape."
"Yeah, well, we haven't exactly escaped yet," Trell reminded him
tartly, eying the open air off the edge of the landing pad with
stomach-churning apprehension. But procrastination wouldn't gain them
anything except increased odds that someone inside the fortress would
notice they were missing and raise the alarm.
And besides--thanks to Kast Maranne and Riij were walking into a trap
out there at the Mynock's Haven can-tina.
Had possibly already walked into it. Riij he wasn't so much worried
about--the guy was a Rebel agent and not his responsibility.
But Maranne was his partner, and he was shragged if he'd abandon her to
Thyne's thugs.
"We waste time," Pairor rumbled at his side. "I will not leave Riij in
danger."
"Likewise," Trell said, keying in the repulsorlifts and throwing power
to the drive. He wouldn't leave Maranne, and Pairor wouldn't leave
Riij; and as the fortress roof dropped away beneath them he realized
with hindsight's usual clarity that Kast had probably set up the
various groupings with precisely those different loyalties in mind.
Though to what end, he still didn't know. And wasn't sure he wanted
to.
He was still mulling over the question thirty seconds later when the
two TIE bombers dropped neatly into formation beside him.
They'd been sitting in the Mynock's Haven for nearly half an hour; and
in Riij Winward's opinion, it was yet another bust. "They're not
coming," he said quietly to the woman on the other side of the small
table. "Whoever we were supposed to meet here, they aren't coming."
"I think you're right," Maranne Darmic growled back, scratching
viciously at the nape of her neck. "Score another big fat zero for the
great and marvelousJodo Kast."
"The greatly incompetent, you mean," Riij said, looking with distaste
at the yellow and redjebwa flower in the center of their table. Kast's
datacard had specified the flower as their identification marker, but
so far none of the cantina's other patrons had given it a second
glance.
Considering the clientele, most of their first glances had been
humiliating enough.
"Yeah," Maranne agreed. "It makes you seriously wonder about his
chances of getting Trell and Pairor and the others out of Zekka Thyne's
place."
"It makes me wonder if he even wants to get them out," Riij countered
darkly.
Maranne eyed him closely. "You think this whole thing was a setup?"
"It's looking more and more that way," Riij said, scowling as he
glanced around the cantina. "Look at the series of events. First he
sends Trell to the wrong booth in Treasure Ship Row, which apparently
tips off Thyne and his people that we're looking for Borbor Crisk.
Then he
sends Trell, Pairor, and Hal back and lets them get snatched.
Finally, he goes there himself with Corran and sends us off on this
idiot's errand. Someone in Kast's business can't possibly be that
incompetent and have survived this long."
"You think it's someone else posing as Kast?" Maranne suggested.
"I mean, all we've ever seen is his armor."
"Possibly," Riij said. "But now remember where this whole mess
actually started: aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer."
"With us squeezed into running an Imperial captain's errand."
Maranne swore gently. "You're right. How stupid can one group of
people be, anyway?"
"We're in line for some prizes, all right," Riij agreed.
"The only question is what exactly the game is that the Imperials are
playing."
"I vote for them trying to stir up trouble between Thyne and Crisk,"
Maranne said. "Maybe looking for an excuse to come down hard on both
sides."
"Using the spice and gems as bait," Riij said. "Still, whatever Kast's
going for, there's one thing he doesn't know."
Maranne smiled tightly. "That the cargo isn't aboard the Hopskip
anymore."
"Exactly." Riij dropped a couple of coins on the table and stood up.
"Come on, let's get out of here. Crisk's people aren't going to
show."
"So what's our next move?" Maranne asked, standing up beside him.
"Kast's Plan B, I guess," Riij said, turning toward the door and
elbowing them a path through a pack of loiterers.
"We take our sample boxes to Thyne's fortress and see if we can make a
deal to buy Trell and Pairor out."
Maranne caught up to his side. "You're going to follow Kast's plan?"
she asked incredulously. "What are you, crazy?"
"No, just desperate," Riij conceded grimly. "Aside
from the two of us storming the place, I don't see any other options."
"What about your--" Maranne threw a quick glance around and lowered her
voice. "What about your friends?"
Riij grimaced. His friends: the Rebel Alliance. A reasonable enough
request, he supposed, especially since the only reason he and Pairor
had been aboard the Hopskip
in the first place was to baby-sit the load
of blasters Trell and Maranne had agreed to smuggle to the Rebels on
Derra IV. Unfortunately--"They can't help us," he told her
regretfully.
"Even if the leaders agreed, it would take too long to gather together
enough of a force to take on Thyne, Corellian Security, and the local
Imperial garrison."
"You sure they just don't want Prince Xizor and Black Sun mad at
them?"
Maranne asked nastily.
"You have to pick your fights carefully, Maranne," Riij sighed.
"Personally, I think we've already bit off more than we can swallow."
"I suppose you're right," Maranne muttered. "Fine.
Let's give Plan B a try."
They had reached the door now, sliding their way through the middle of
an incoming group of Duros and heading out into the muggy night air.
The Hopskip's dilapidated landspeeder was parked in the small lot to
the left-"Excuse me?" a hesitant voice called.
Riij turned, his hand dropping automatically to the butt of his
blaster. A heavyset man had emerged from the cantina a handful of
steps behind them, their jebwa flower clutched in a meaty hand.
"Yes?"
"You forgot your flower," the man said, lobbing it through the air
toward him. Automatically, Riij reached up to catch And suddenly there
was a small blaster in the heavy man's fist. "Nice and easy," the man
said. "Selty?"
"I'm on it," a voice said from somewhere behind Riij.
There was a. quick set of approaching footsteps, and Riij felt his
blaster being lifted from its holster. Another moment, and Maranne had
been disarmed as well. "Got 'em."
"Now just keep moving," the first gunman said, gesturing Riij and
Maranne in the direction they'd been going.
"Let's go take a look at your landspeeder."
The parking lot was dark and deserted. But it wasn't going to stay
deserted for long. Even as Riij led the way toward the landspeeder he
could see shadowy forms drifting in from all directions.
Whoever had gotten the drop on them didn't seem interested in taking
any chances.
"You want to tell us which one's yours?" the heavyset man asked.
"You want to tell us whose side you're on?" Riij countered.
The other's eyes flashed. "Don't push it, scum," he warned harshly.
"You're in enough trouble with us as it is."
"Must be with Zekka Thyne," Maranne said ruefully.
"Must be," Riij agreed, his heart pounding a little harder. So it was
definitely to Plan B now. "It's that dirt-brown one over there."
Two of the approaching thugs veered toward the land-speeder, the rest
forming a loose but competent enough guard circle around the prisoners
and their two escorts.
A double-sided circle, Riij noted with interest, with as many of their
members facing outward as inward. Expecting trouble, maybe?
The thugs had the storage compartment open now and with grunts of
satisfaction hauled out the two sleight boxes. "Got 'em, Grobber," one
of them said. "Couple of sleight boxes, just like the man said."
"All set to fill up, huh?" the heavyset man said, throwing a dark look
at Riij. "I guess Kast wasn't blowing smoke rings after all."
Riij threw a glance at Maranne, got the same look in return from her.
They'd been right; Kast was definitely
playing some crazy double- or triple-edged game here.
"Kast told you about this?" he asked.
"Sure did," Grobber assured him. "So what were these for, the first
payment?"
Riij shook his head. "Sorry, but I can't help you. We were hired to
deliver the boxes and that was it."
"Sure," Grobber growled. "Just deliver the boxes: And if Criskjust
happened to fill them up while your back was turned--well, hey, that's
none of your business, right?
Promk, what the frink are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" one of the men at the land-speeder
retorted.
He had carried one of the boxes around to the hood and was in the
process of popping the seal with a knife. "A couple of wise guys, a
couple of empty boxes; I figured it might be fun to send 'em on to
Crisk with their heads inside."
Riij was suddenly aware of his collar pressing against his throat.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," he said, striving to keep
his voice even. "You don't know where the rest of the boxes are."
"We don't, huh?" Grobber sneered, digging out a comlink and thumbing
it on. "Skinkner? Hey, Skinkner, look alive."
"Funny, Grobber, funny," a twisted voice came back.
"What d'ya want?"
"You at the Dewback Storage Warehouse yet?"
"Yeah, 'course we are. If you were hoping to report us to Thyne for
slogging off, you're out of luck."
"Wouldn't think of it," Grobber said, sending another sneer toward
Riij. "Still think we don't know where the rest of the boxes are,
hotshot?"
Riij felt his stomach tighten. So much for Plan B. So much, too, for
any leverage they might have had against Thyne and his mob. Any chance
of rescuing Pairor and Trell was now squarely in his and Maranne's
laps.
Assuming they were able to find a way out of this, their own private
mess. Carefully, keeping his movements ca
sual, Riij looked around the ring of thugs, trying to formulate some kind of reasonable plan-"Mother
of smoke/" Riij jerked his head back around. Standing beside the
landspeeder, Promk had finally gotten the sleight box open .
. . and even in the faint light Riij could see the stunned look on his
face. "Grobber--you gotta--what the frinkingm?"
"Have you gone dust-happy?" Grobber demanded, striding toward him. He
got two steps, and then suddenly his face changed, too. "What the--.>"
he gasped, all but leaping the rest of the distance to Promk's side.
Riij sniffed the night breeze carefully, caught the faint odor of
spice. "You were saying something about empty boxes?" he asked.
Grobber ignored him. "Get the other one open," he ordered, pulling out
a knife of his own and probing delicately into the spice.
"Selty, get over here. The rest of you, watch for trouble."
Seltyjoined his boss as Promk brought around the second box and set to
work, and for a moment the two thugs conversed in low voices over the
spice box. The debate was interrupted by the crack of breaking
duraplast, and the two joined Promk by the second box.
Someone whistled in awe. "Grobber--are those--?" "Durindfire gems,"
Grobber said, lifting his eyes like twin turbolasers to Riij's face.
"Let's have it, pal, and let's have it straight and fast. What the
frink kind of game are you playing, anyway?"
"I told you before: we're not playing any games," Riij told him.
"We were sent to deliver the cargo, and that's it.
If there's a game going on, someone else is running it."
"Kast," one of the other thugs snarled.
"Or Kast and Crisk," Grobber snarled back, yanking out his comlink
again. "Skinkner? Wake up, Skinkner."
"What d'ya want?" the other's voice demanded. "Frink it all,
Grobber--"
> "Shut up and listen," Grobber bit out. "You looked in any
of those boxes yet?"
"'Course not. Thyne said to just watch them until Crisk's blaster-boys
came to fill them with--" "You idiot--they're already full," Grobber
snapped.
"Which means the contract's already been filled."
The voice on the comlink swore. "Kast."
"That's my bet," Grobber said. "Start getting your boys together--I'm
going to raise Control." He keyed the comlink again.
"Control? This is Grobber. Control?"
"Grobber!" a new voice half barked, half gasped.
"We've been trying to raise you for half an hour--where the frink are
you?"
"At the Mynock's Haven," Grobber said. "Listen--" "No, you listen,"
the other cut him off. "We're under attack here, skrag it--you've got
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