Star Wars - Firepower

by Carolyn Golledge

  “Well,” he drawled, making his way to the table, “I see you haven’t changed.”

  She stared at him. “I’m leaving.”

  “Please … ” Alikka stepped between her and the door. Grathal was nowhere in sight. “Stay, Ket. For me. For my brother.” Ket knew he was in one of Pedrin’s labor camps. “I wanted you to come here more than any of these people. I couldn’t tell you about it where we might be overheard.”

  “Oh, Ali,” Ketrian sighed. “What are you up to now? You know Pedrin suspects you.”

  “It’s as well someone’s trying to prevent more Alderaans,” a high-pitched youthful voice said from the table.

  Ketrian turned to the speaker, the young man. “Don’t tell me you believe those lies?”

  “Which?” he threw back at her. “That Alderaan was planning germ warfare? That we all had an incurable plague? That … ”

  “Enough, Merak.” A graying man moved to place his hand to the youth’s shoulder. “We share you pain, and your mourning for your lost home.”

  Ketrian stared. “You’re Alderaanian?”

  He nodded proudly. “One of the few.”

  Mak stepped forward. “All Merak asks is that you hear him out. He has some holo-tapes he wants you to see.” Ketrian looked uncertain. “Not just Alderaan. The Empire’s been busy lately.”

  “So,” Ketrian said slowly, “You’re working with them now?”

  “The Rebel Alliance?” Mak said. “Yes. Best move I ever made. For once in my life I’ve found the means to really help people. Hear us out, Ket. That’s all we ask. Then if you still want, you can go.”

  Ketrian stiffened angrily. “This … ” she indicated the holo-machine, “is the only reason you came here?”

  “No,” he smiled. It was the same heart-wrenching, gentle smile she remembered. “This was a neat excuse, a chance for me to see you again. Merak and the team could have handled it, but I talked my way in. I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Ket. About the day I was forced to leave you.”

  “Forced!” she sneered. “You ran away from your father’s threats. Ran to your precious stars. Your father couldn’t bear having you marry a lowborn instead of that lady he chose for you. I thought you were willing to stand by me, but you abandoned me.”

  “We have evidence of the truth behind Makintay’s disappearance too,” another of the Rebels spoke up. “Your would-be husband spent a year in a penal colony on Garen IV after he was kidnapped and dumped there with a false ID.”

  “Penal colony?” Ketrian wanted to believe, to heal that old wound.

  Mak nodded sadly. “My father made sure I vanished someplace where I’d never be heard of again.” He picked up one of the datacards. “Eventually I escaped and came back here to lead that uprising. When it failed, the Alliance contacted me. It’s all here.”

  “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  He shrugged. “Officially, I was an escaped felon. All I earned from the uprising was a death mark. You were secure, working for the Empire.”

  She held his gaze for a long moment, then looked away. “So many people suffered needlessly for your uprising. Can’t you see t he Rebel Alliance is no different? All this making war is futile, Mak. Futile. I’ll hear what your friends have to say, that’s all.”

  “Fair enough,” Mak agreed, waving her to a chair.

  “It’s no use, Ali,” Mak said an hour later. “She’s made up her mind.”

  “Your Alliance is no different than the Empire,” Ketrian repeated, glaring at the group about the holo-projector. “You’re only interested in what I can do for you. And you,” she turned to Makintay, “all you care about is your X-wing repairs.”

  “How can you go on working for Palpatine after what we’ve shown you?” Merak demanded.

  “I knew he wasn’t perfect,” Ketrian told him. “He’s Human, like all of us. Given the same unlimited power, who can say your leaders would not become just as corrupt?” She picked up her coat. “I’ve been here too long already. Pedrin’s goons will be asking questions. Where’s Grathal?”

  “He had to get back,” Mak said. “We have another speeder hidden nearby. I’ll drive you to the inn.” Ketrian stormed past him as he opened the door. “Don’t mind her,” he told Merak. “that was her standard argument. It’s easy to think of no one but yourself if you label everyone else as worthless.”

  Ketrian hesitated, then stalked outside. It was raining and she pulled her coat hood about her face. Makintay and Alikka said nothing as they joined her.

  They’d gone only a few paces when Mak suddenly stopped. He cocked his head and peered up into the night sky. “Listen,” he said. Then they heard it too, the roar of airspeeders. On Hargeeva only the Imperial military used airspeeders. Searchlights settled on the warehouse and its surroundings.

  “Slag!” Mak cursed. “They’ve found us. Come one. This way. Hurry!” He pulled them into a narrow connecting alley.

  Behind them a blaster battle erupted as the trapped Rebels returned fire. Then a mighty explosion filled the streets with a flare of light.

  “What was that?” Alikka said.

  “We can’t help them now.” Mak said grimly, urging her forward. He skidded to a halt at the next corner. “Troopers,” he snarled. “They found our speeder.” He drew his blaster, looking set to make a fight of it.

  Ketrian stared at him. “What are you trying to do, get me killed? I’ve got nothing to hide.” She made to step around him.

  “You think they’ll believe that?” Mak pulled her back. But too late, the movement had been seen. A blaster bolt impacted where Ketrian had stood.

  “Drop your weapons and step clear of the building,” the ranking trooper called.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Ketrian wailed. “They think I’m a Rebel, too.”

  “They’ve got us trapped,” Mak cursed. “When those speeders show up, they’ll blast us. There’s only one way out. You two will have to be my prisoners. Hostages, okay?”

  “Hostages?” Ketrian gaped at him.

  “Good idea,” Alikka said, then to Ketrian, “it’s our only chance.”

  The trooper repeated his command for them to surrender, and added, “This is your final warning.” Overhead, they could hear an airspeeder closing, its lights turning night into day.

  Mak didn’t need that illumination to see Ketrian’s face — she had gone as white as snow. “I’m sorry. Ket he said. “Come on.” Mak put an arm about Ket’s throat and shoved Ali forward with the blaster.

  A searcher light immediately blinded them all and a snarling voice called. “Drop that weapon, Rebel.”

  “Back off or I kill them,” Makintay shouted.

  The Imperials didn’t allow him a moment for negotiation. The ground trooper and another in the speeder fired in unison, sending concentric blue power ripples through the rain. Ketrian felt Makintay try to shield her, then the stun blast darkness became complete.

  The next Ketrian knew stark white light was filtering through her eyelids and the acrid smell of antiseptic assailed her nostrils. Her stomach heaved and she rolled to one side.

  “Please use the waste unit,” a droid’s unemotional voice echoed about her.

  Ketrian fell from the narrow bunk onto a duracrete floor that bruised her knees. She grabbed at the nearby waste unit, turned and threw up into it.

  “Thank you,” the droid responded. There was a whirring of servomotors as he came closer. Long metal arms heaved her back onto the bunk. “You are functional?” it asked, glowing photo-receptors and sensors assessing.

  “Oh, go melt your circuits.” Ketrian wiped at her mouth. “Who are you and where am I?”

  “Medical guard unit FM-6B at your service,” he replied. “You are in Arginall Garrison Infirmary Cell number 23B.”

  “Cell!” Ketrian felt worse than ever as it all came back. “I am going to murder you, Makintay.” She clutched at her head. “If I live.”

  “You are experiencing head pain?” the dro
id asked.

  “How do I get out of here?” Ketrian demanded. “Open the door.” She saw all four walls were completely smooth. No sign of an exit.

  “I cannot do that,” the droid answered. “You must be given proper clearance. First I have been programmed to provide medication that will hasten your return to full function.”

  Ketrian saw an appendage appear with a ready-filled hypodermic. “What is that?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Standard treatment for your condition.”

  “Good,” Ketrian sighed in relief. As she rolled up her sleeve, she found her new dress was torn and covered in mud. The hypo-spray discharged its load into her arm. She rubbed at it and asked, “Where is my friend, Alikka Nolan?”

  “I am not programmed with that information,” the droid responded.

  Part of the wall slid open to reveal stormtrooper guards in a corridor. Then Major Pedrin stepped into the cell. “I see you’ve had your medication.” His lips twitched in what could have been a smile. “Feeling better?” He pressed at his mustache as he lowered himself to sit on the single chair. “I’ve been worried about you, Ketrian. You received a double dose of stun shock.”

  “You should teach your troopers to shoot straight,” Ketrian said angrily. “They could have killed me. Is that how you tell them to handle hostage situations? Where’s Ali? She better be all right or I’ll be making an official complaint.”

  Pedrin’s eyes darkened to twin black holes. “You are in no position to make complaints. Miss Altronel. You and your friend deliberately avoided your guards at the inn. If not for the fact that they noticed the man who took you to the storage cellar and questioned him upon his return, we may never have located you.”

  “Grathal?” Ketrian’s pulse raced and her mouth went dry as she wondered what the old man had told them. “Where is he now? I’d like to ask him a few things myself.”

  “Such as?” Pedrin leaned forward and she noticed he was recording her answers on a datapad.

  “Such as how he could have managed to get so confused. He took us to the wrong address. Way back by the river. Ali and I thought we were meeting a sculpture dealer from off-world. You know how I collect such things?” He nodded. “I know we shouldn’t have left without notifying your men, but Grathal said the dealer was worried about … ”

  “Customs excise?”

  “Yes,” Ketrian sighed in relief. “Grathal explained?”

  “That is what he told us, but it was not the full truth.”

  Ketrian swallowed. “It wasn’t?”

  “Who did you find waiting at that warehouse?”

  “People,” Ketrian said. She brushed mud from her skirt. They must had captured Makintay and identified him by now. “Resistance fighters. They wanted me to join them.” She made it sound like a great joke. “Me. Can you imagine? When I refused they took Ali and me prisoner.”

  Pedrin said nothing for a long moment. Then he sighed, straightened and turned off the recorder. “Loyalty is an admirable trait, Ketrian,” he said quietly, “but you cannot protect Miss Nolan forever. She knew where she was taking you last night.”

  “Surely not.”

  Pedrin gave her a stern look. “She knew. You see now why you needed my officers with you at all times?”

  She nodded. “I’m glad they were able to rescue me. May I go home now?”

  “Soon. First I want you to tell me all you know about Stevan Makintay. You and he declared your betrothal five years ago.” He snorted disgustedly and said. “Makintay’s father doesn’t let a day go by without complaining of his son’s choice. He wanted Stevan to marry some High Lady, I take it?” Ketrian nodded. Pedrin gave another of his reptilian smiles. “Personally. I’d say that was the single smart choice of Stevan’s life.”

  Ketrian flushed. “I have work to do, Major. I should be getting back to the refinery. I don’t think there is much I can tell you about Makintay. He abandoned me five years ago and I never heard from him again until last night.”

  “Yes,” Pedrin agreed. “Of that, at least, we are certain. We had you both under close surveillance during your university days.” Ketrian’s head lifted in shock. “Security, you understand. We were assessing the elder Makintay for appointment to the position of Imperial Governor.”

  “And did you leave off that surveillance when Stevan disappeared?” Ketrian asked angrily.

  “No,” Pedrin admitted calmly. “You had become of strategic importance to the Empire by then also.” She drew an angry breath and he lifted a hand to forestall her protest. “It was continued surveillance that allowed me to guarantee my superiors that you have no ties to the resistance movement.” Ketrian sat back. “Now, about the prisoner. I find him quite a puzzle. Why would a man of such high breeding throw away all the privileges of his birth to aid these low-life Rebels? Unfortunately Makintay is the sole survivor of the group you met and he is proving to be … ” he paused, his lips pursing into a thin line of annoyance. “ … stubborn. Most stubborn Even his father had no success with him.”

  “The governor spoke to him?” Ketrian blurted. “He vowed never to do so again the night he disinherited Stevan.”

  “Yes,” Pedrin murmured. “But Makintay Senior is governor for the Empire, and as such he must obey Imperial command. He was ordered to offer his son full reinstatement of his birthright should he co-operate with us and reveal the location of the Rebel base.”

  “Mak would never accept such an offer.”

  “Mak?” Pedrin cocked an eyebrow at her. “You know him well. He was most offensive. His father left in a rage. Young Makintay left me no alternative but to try drugs.”

  Ketrian swallowed hard. “Drugs? Then you have the location?”

  Pedrin’s knuckles went white as he clutched at his datapad. “No, it seems Makintay has been thoroughly prepared for this mission. Our drugs could not penetrate his obstinance. But that is of no consequence, we are currently employing more effective interrogation procedures.” Pedrin’s hooded eyes were full of perverse pleasure. “Makintay will break before another day dawns.”

  Shocked, Ketrian could do no more than stare.

  Pedrin frowned. “I take it there is nothing you can tell me about him that might aid my questioning?”

  Ketrian shook her head.

  Pedrin got to his feet. “Well, I’m sure your aid won’t be needed. Makintay proved his cowardice when he held you as a shield last night. You’d best go home. Rest. You have a long journey to make tomorrow.”

  “J-journey?” Ketrian said, dazed.

  “Your alloy, Ketrian. lt has caused considerable excitement among my superiors. They have commanded that you be transferred to Coruscant to continue your work under more secure conditions.”

  After a sleepless night full of fear for herself and her friends, Ketrian was escorted to the starport. Pedrin was sullen and rumpled, as if he, too, had had little sleep. “I envy you,” he said as he led her up the ramp to the waiting shuttle. “The Imperial capital. I was hoping I could get away from this backwater myself. I’m sure command would reward me if I could supply the location of the Rebel base.”

  “Oh?” Ketrian was pleased. “Makintay wouldn’t talk?”

  Pedrin scowled. “He would have if I’d had more time. Command says their experts will make him talk. Experts, pah! If I had their scan grids and fancy torture machines I could … ”

  “Torture?” Ketrian paled. “Makintay is being transferred, too?”

  Pedrin turned and pointed to the foot of the ramp. A squad of stormtroopers surrounded a single prisoner. “Even he’s getting off this rock.”

  Horrified, Ketrian watched as the troopers dragged a groggy, chained Makintay up the ramp. As they paused at the hatchway, Ketrian got a good look at Makintay’s face. It was a mass of bruises, and his shirt was splattered with blood.

  “’Morning,” he croaked in greeting, trying to find a smile.

  “Silence!” His guard prodded him with a rifle butt. Makintay fell forward into t
he shuttle.

  “Surely you cannot feel sympathy for him?” Pedrin said, noting Ketrian’s stricken expression.

  She shook her head. “I was thinking of Ali. Where is she?”

  Pedrin shifted uncomfortably. “We will hold her until she gives us the names of her accomplices.”

  “Is she being beaten too?”

  “I would advise you to forget your traitor friend.” He took her arm. “Come, the shuttle is powering up.”

  She pulled free. “If I could get that location for you, would you let Ali go?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then give me clearance to talk to Makintay aboard the transport.”

  “You’ll have it.” Pedrin smiled.

  Staring at the featureless gray walls of his tiny cell aboard the transport, Makintay decided that at least here he was being left alone. He marked time by the automatic dispensing of his rations every eight hours. Three times now. It seemed the transport’s drive system was not in good shape. They were making frequent stops and short jumps. Fine by him, he was in no hurry.

  The only positive thought he could find was knowing he’d convinced Ketrian he had not abandoned her. That and the look on her face when she’d seen him on the shuttle pad. She’d begun to feel again, the old spark was back in those lovely eyes.

  Mak jumped as the cell door whooshed open. Silently the stormtrooper guards pushed him from the cell and marched him down the corridor to a small room. Its only furnishing was a chair fitted with restraints. The troopers pushed him into it, arranging him so that the electronic clamps activated, securing both arms and legs. Then they left him.

  He waited, growing ever more nervous. The door opened and Ketrian entered. “Ket,” he said with relief.

  “You got me in a lot of trouble back there,” she said. “You owe me.”

  “I’m not exactly in a position to grant favors.” He noticed she didn’t seem able to keep still, wringing her hands, pacing, fidgeting Muscles jumped in her cheeks and the bare forearms showing below the jumpsuit’s short sleeves. Her eyes glowed feverishly and her skin was an unhealthy greenish-yellow. “Are you okay?” he asked.