Then she chuckled to herself. “Great, now I’m starting to think like a protocol droid.”
“What?” Finn called back to her.
“Nothing,” she replied, embarrassed to be caught talking to herself.
Looking out the viewport, Dusque watched as Corellia shrank from view, a beautiful blue-green dot that soon enough became indistinguishable from the rest of the stars in the velvet blackness. She watched the lights wink and twinkle and was once again amazed that so many of those dots teemed with life. She had always been fascinated by the variety of life in the galaxy—otherwise she would not have chosen the profession of bioengineer. But now she realized she had more appreciation for that life—for all lives, each one unique and individual and precious. She felt that she had been a removed observer but was now a true participant, like a wrix that no longer saw in black and white, but could see and appreciate colors.
“Coming up?” Finn asked, breaking her reverie. She undid her straps and joined him in the cockpit.
“We don’t have too much time before we reach Dantooine,” he began, and Dusque thought he was going to make some sort of declaration to her in case something happened to one or both of them. It was, after all, a very real possibility.
“Yes?” she asked.
“I’d like to show you some of the controls, so that you could fly this thing in case …” He left the rest unsaid.
Not what she had hoped to hear, but she understood his concerns. “All right,” she replied.
For nearly an hour, he gave her the basic rundown on how the ship operated, from using the deflector shields to jettisoning cargo if needed. Dusque tried to take in as muchas possible, but was daunted by the enormity of the job. Finally, perhaps sensing her growing frustration, Finn stood up.
“I’m going to go back and change, get geared up, so I’ll leave you to it for a while,” he told her. “We’ve made the jump to hyperspace, but go ahead and go over the controls for yourself. Holler if you have any questions.” And he moved toward the rear of the shuttle.
Dusque sighed and went over the mental checklist he had given her. She had newfound respect for pilots, because even with all the technology at their disposal, doing the job well was extremely difficult. She thought that if she had to, she could probably get the thing up in the air, but wasn’t sure she’d be able to fly it beyond that, and she didn’t even want to think about landing. She studied the controls, but the more she looked at them, the more they all started to look alike. She was rubbing her eyes in frustration when a signal blared, startling her. She glanced at the board and was pleased to realize that she remembered what the signal meant: it was time to drop out of hyperspace.
Finn came hurrying up front, wearing a standard-issue, all-weather environmental suit.
“We’ll be in orbit shortly,” he told her, sitting down. “Why don’t you go and get changed? You have a few moments before we have to strap in for landing.”
As Dusque hurried back, she felt her mouth dry out. She was approaching the moment of truth, and the thought of the task that lay in front of them made her heart pound. Her fingers trembled slightly when she snapped the closures on her environmental suit and strapped on the sport blaster that was permissible for nonmilitary personnel. Telling herself to relax, she stuck several power packs into her sack and strapped on a survival knife. Then she decided to conceal a heavy blaster inside her tunic. Her outer cloak was fabricated from tough fiberplast, so she took the calculated risk that the weapon would be hidden well enough.
Then a flash on the auxiliary control board caught her eye, and she turned to look. Had that been a blip on the radar monitor? Wanting to be sure, she stared at the monitor and waited. After a short time, it happened again. It was as though something was following them, trying to stay just out of range.
She ran forward to the cockpit. “Someone is following us!” she told Finn.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, sounding incredulous.
“Look at the radar!” she exclaimed, waving her hand at the monitor as she slid into the co-pilot’s seat.
For several long moments, both of them watched the monitor.
Finally Finn sighed and shook his head. “There’s nothing there,” he informed her.
“But there was,” she insisted.
“Look,” he told her, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder, “we’re both tense. You probably saw a meteor or an asteroid shoot by. It’s a very common mistake new pilots make.”
Dusque sat there, frustrated, with her arms crossed. She was sure she had seen something on the screen. Rather than argue with Finn over it, since without proof it looked like a losing battle anyway, she took up a silent vigil over the monitor, determined to catch it out. However, the screen remained accusingly blank, and Dusque started to think it had been a natural celestial occurrence after all.
“We’re coming up on the Imperial outpost,” Finn announced at last. “Get ready for landing. And no sign of anything following us,” he added without mockery.
“I guess I imagined it,” she admitted, feeling foolish. She wanted him to think she was competent—and then was annoyed with herself for caring so much what he thought of her.
As soon as they landed, they were contacted by the outpost command center.
“Prepare to be inspected,” a voice announced over the comm unit. Dusque and Finn exchanged a tense glance before Finn responded.
“Hatchway open, we’re ready for boarding,” he said into the comm.
The heavy tread of armor reminded Dusque of the spaceport on Moenia, when the stormtroopers had come for Tendau. Her blood pounding in her ears, she struggled to maintain an outward look of calm. Finn appeared stoic, but then he winked at her just as a stormtrooper entered the cockpit. That one gesture relieved her of an immense amount of tension. She inhaled deeply and stood to address the trooper.
“Everything in order?” she asked, seizing control of the moment.
“We’re still checking your cargo,” the armored stormtrooper replied through his transmitter.
Once again, Dusque was struck by how impersonal, how inhuman, every aspect of the Empire was. Even a voice lost all warmth when heard through their armor.
“Your clearance codes, please,” the stormtrooper added.
Dusque handed him her credentials, along with Finn’s falsified ones. The stormtrooper was momentarily put off when he saw that Dusque was the senior member of the group. Judging by his reaction, Dusque guessed he had never come across a woman in charge before. He continued to scrutinize them, and Dusque wondered just how good a job the Rebels had done with Finn’s forgeries.
“Everything appears to be—” the stormtrooper began, before he was interrupted.
“Come back here and take a look at these,” another officer said.
Dusque’s heart skipped a beat. She looked once at Finn and her mind raced. She was afraid that she had somehow not secured the panel correctly over their cache of weapons. Nausea swept through her when the first stormtrooper called her name.
“Come back here.” It was clearly not a request but an order. Finn moved to join her, but Dusque, her arm by her side, discreetly waved her hand to stop him.
“If need be,” she whispered, “I can make a run for it and you can blast out of here.”
She hoped he understood what she meant. If they were found out, he might be able to pilot the ship away while she distracted the stormtroopers by bolting out of the hatch and running. That way, at least one of them would survive. For a moment she was taken aback by this new Dusque: never before had she been so willing to put herself directly in the path of death. And certainly not for anything so nebulous as a cause.
“Yes?” she asked, and was proud of the fearlessness in her voice.
She stepped back into the main cabin and saw that several stormtroopers were gathered in a knot. She could not see what they were looking at.
“Explain this,” he ordered, and Dusque feared the worst. She
chewed her lip slightly and looked at the open hatchway, estimating how long it would take her to reach the outside before she was either apprehended or shot. Before she could decide, however, the stormtrooper turned and faced her, holding something out to her.
Dusque let out her breath very slowly. Instead of some illegal weapon, the soldier had one of her collection tools in his gauntleted hand.
“It does look rather evil,” she replied easily, “with the trigger and the pointed dispenser unit, doesn’t it? It’s a liquid suspension device.”
The stormtrooper cocked his head and studied the unit again. “What?” he asked.
“Here,” she said, and plucked the device from his fingers. “Sorry, but I don’t want you to get the stuff on yourself. It’s highly viscous.”
“What do you use it for?” he questioned.
“It’s just one of the tools I use to preserve specimens and as a component in medical stimpaks. Don’t see much of this stuff out here, do you?” she commented, assuming an air of authority.
“No,” he replied, “I don’t see much of anything out here.”
She nodded in commiseration. “This isn’t the most glamorous assignment for me, either. Probably because I’m a woman,” she groused.
The stormtrooper nodded and ordered the rest of the troopers off the ship.
“Looks like everything is in order here,” he told her. “Don’t want to make this more difficult for you than it already is,” he added quietly.
“Thank you very much,” she responded and flashed him a grateful smile.
The stormtrooper left with the others and Dusque went back to the cockpit. Finn stood up with a pleased expression on his face.
“Nice,” he told her. “Very nice.”
“Nothing to it,” she sighed and then chuckled. “Let’s move it.”
“After you—” He bowed at the waist. “—fearless leader.”
Dusque grabbed her pack and slung it onto her back. She made one last check of her gear, while Finn did the same. Certain they had everything they could think of, they stepped out into the base and sealed up the ship.
Dusque was struck once more by the sterility of the Imperial base. As she stepped out into the square, small clouds of dust puffed up from the red dirt. There were several flat buildings set up, but the place seemed like a ghost town compared to the Rebel base. There were almost no people around. At first glance, all Dusque saw were a few troopers and a lone Bothan who appeared to be surveying, filling a container with some type of amorphous gemstones. The outpost seemed to be the loneliest spot in the galaxy.
As they moved past the military lookout, a uniformed soldier came running after them. Dusque felt her heart rise up in her throat and she saw that Finn had slipped his hand inside his travel cloak. She did the same, her blaster easily within reach.
“Wait,” the officer called. “We’re not finished with you both just yet.”
Dusque turned around, Finn less than a meter behind her. “I don’t understand,” she said gruffly, forcing a bravado she did not feel. “What is the matter now? You’ve held us up long enough.”
The officer regarded her with openmouthed surprise.
“I am an Imperial bioengineer. The Emperor will hear of this treatment when I am finished with this mission. If you think this post is as remote as it can get, you are sorely mistaken,” she finished with a touch of disdain.
“You haven’t logged in for our records,” the officer replied shamefacedly. “We don’t get many visitors, and the stormtrooper who passed you through forgot. It’s required.”
“Oh,” Dusque said and proceeded to act as though she was somewhat mollified by the officer’s obsequiousness. “I suppose that won’t take very long.”
The officer pulled out a datapad and stylus. He noted her credentials and then Finn’s.
“That should do it, then,” he said. Then he looked at his information and frowned. “Ah,” he cleared his throat.
Dusque turned back around with an angry look on her face. “What?” she asked, sounding extremely put out.
“I need to fill out a reason. Why … um … are you here? We heard no word of it.”
“I am part of an advance group, scanning this world and other unpopulated ones in the Outer Rim,” Dusque said.
“For what purpose?” the officer asked and Dusque thought he seemed genuinely curious.
“For future colonization,” she said.
“Oh …,” he replied.
“Play your sabacc cards right, officer, and you might be the lead garrison for the next major Imperial base,” she finished with a flourish.
As she suspected, the officer perked up when he heard that he might actually be in command of something other than a forgotten post on an empty world. He didn’t even look down at his datapad after that. He straightened up and gave Dusque a genuine salute.
“We’re in order here. Good luck and let me know if we can be of any further assistance to one of the Emperor’s bioengineers.” Then he added, “We have heard of some smuggling activities going on north of here. Perhaps I should send a small detachment with you?”
“I appreciate the offer,” she told him. “Officer …?”
“Fuce,” he replied, “Commander Fuce.”
“I appreciate it, but I suspect your men don’t have the training and skills needed to take samples and conduct surveys. Without that, they would only slow us down. But I appreciate the offer and the warning. And I’ll make sure my superiors know how well informed and helpful you’ve been. Thank you,” she told him.
He saluted again, then turned on his heels and marched back to his station.
Dusque and Finn navigated through the small outpost without any other incidents. Dusque was vaguely aware that except for a few disreputable types hanging about the tiny, nearly deserted cantina, there was no one else around. The place had been forgotten by enemies and friends alike.
When they finally cleared the compound walls, whatever pretense of civilization had existed within those boundaries disappeared. The view opened up to rolling hills and savannas. The lavender grass that grew rampant on the planet turned the entire countryside a soft purple as far as the eye could see. As Dusque was scanning the horizon, the dark clouds finally released their moisture. Big, heavy drops started to fall. She held out her hand and smiled at their luck.
“Perfect,” she said to Finn. “This will help mask our scent from several species of the local wildlife.”
“It is perfect,” he agreed with a strange look in his eye. “You handled yourself very well back there. I was impressed.”
Dusque found herself blushing at his praise and she lowered her head. “I was scared,” she admitted. “Really scared for the first time in my life. And I wasn’t scared for me—I was frightened for all the people on the list, all the people back at that base, all the nameless souls in the galaxy. But most of all, I was afraid for you.”
She felt his hand under her chin, warm and dry, as he tipped her head up.
“I can’t believe I’ve met someone like you in my life now, here at this moment and we should be involved in this …” He shook his head sadly.
“I know,” she told him. “There’s no time. But if we’re successful …” She trailed off, unwilling to presume anything.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. For a moment, under the boughs of the twisted biba tree, there was no Galactic Civil War, just two people.
“We have here,” he said when the kiss ended, “and we have now. There’s no point in dwelling on a tomorrow that may never come.”
It was Dusque’s turn to stare at him. “But we have to believe in a tomorrow,” she insisted. “Otherwise there is no purpose in today.”
Finn pulled himself away from her and composed himself. “You’re right,” he agreed eventually. “Sorry, I was caught up in the moment.”
“There’s no need for apology,” she told him.
“No, there is.” But he didn’t expla
in. Instead he turned away from her and pulled out his scanner, took a brief reading, and then pointed to their left. “North by northeast,” he announced. “We haven’t got much time.”
Troubled, Dusque let him take the lead, and they entered into the uncharted wilderness of Dantooine.
ELEVEN
With the Imperial base far behind them, Dusque and Finn moved quickly but cautiously. The purple fields were littered with all kinds of flowers, and at unguarded moments Dusque found herself thinking that Dantooine was one of the most beautiful planets she had ever seen. It looked like some wild, unkempt garden that had gone to seed. Beyond the lavender hills, olive-colored steppes framed the sky. Even the rain, which continued to fall, and the ominous roll of thunder in the distance couldn’t dampen how she felt.
As they jogged along a small gully, Dusque wondered what was going through Finn’s mind. She knew he cared about her, and she was past the point of denying to herself that she felt something for the lanky, black-haired Rebel. If it hadn’t been for him, she thought, she probably would have been killed with Tendau. His fortuitous arrival had saved her from that certain fate, and he had given her a goal into which to channel her rage and frustration. He had been the one who had started her down the path. If for no other reason, he would be special to her. But nothing was ever that simple.
Before she could think on it further, she heard a thumping in the distance. She slowed her pace, and Finn did, too. They slowly climbed up a steep hill and dropped down to their bellies at the apex. Off to their right was a herd of very large creatures. Dusque berated herself for being careless enough to nearly blunder into them.
She suddenly realized that this was exactly why Finn was being so strange and removed. He knew better than to let anything else cloud his judgment on something so crucial as their mission. She told herself she should do like him and remain focused.
The creatures stood three times as tall as a human, but most of that height came from the neck and head. They had thick, squat bodies with four short legs. Their hide was light on their bellies and darkened along their backs. Wide stripes added to their camouflage, so that when they tired of grazing and lay down, they became difficult to pick out on the steppes. And their elongated heads were covered with horns.
The Ruins of Dantooine Page 15