Galactic Assimilation

by J. K. Mabrey

  “People have begun to realize not to ask questions of the High Emperor's son’s whereabouts. Besides, I will not be here long. I just have a bit of business to finish before heading back to Cedona.”

  The ship landed on a platform just next to Varin’s office. The Red Moon compound was a great distance from any other city on Theros. The location was ideal for a secretive group that wanted to stay off the radar of Council law enforcement. Luckily, Theros was a remote system, and this appealed to Varin, and the locals never asked questions, as long as their payments kept coming. Theros was a strategic location for Red Moon to have a large footprint, and the mining opportunities provided stable income. This location was one of the more secure facilities for Varin to assume his true self.

  The compound was like a fortress to Varin, where his most private work could be done. It was only here that he could truly let himself be free. It was one of Red Moon's best strongholds. The compound contained an airfield where over a hundred ships were ready to be deployed at a moments notice. The defenses were adequate for repelling most large assaults with over a dozen turbo-laser stations placed throughout the facility. It was only about a square mile in size if you didn't count the airfield. In the center of the facility stood a tower, ten stories tall. His office was located in the central tower. Only one entrance was available to his office, as far as anyone else knew. At his request, the designer built-in multiple hidden exits from the building. Unfortunately, the man who designed the building met with an accident no less than two weeks after the construction commenced. Now Varin was the only person alive who knew all the secrets of his sanctuary. Superior knowledge was something he greatly desired in most aspects of his life.

  Massively tall walls surrounded the room that was decorated with many ancient Chokmnd artifacts. Most should have been in a museum, some had been. Varin had a passion for collecting ancient artifacts, especially Chokmnd, and never missed an opportunity to acquire more, legally or not. His office took up two floors of the tower and was the only room on that floor, providing him more space than was ever needed. He walked to his desk, positioned at the far end of the room facing the door. Fallen stacks of data disks were cluttered on top of it. Varin cringed at the untidiness.

  “What is all this, Traval?” he said passively. Varin had been trying to learn to control his temper and emotions through his meditation. So far he had been mostly unsuccessful.

  Traval hesitated. “We were going to initialize a secure transfer to your Cedona terminal, sir. These are just a few matters that need your direct attention.”

  Varin showed off a curt smile. He not so secretly loved being needed to make important decisions. It helped quell his ego.

  Varin inserted the top disk into his terminal; a hooded figure appeared onscreen. “Good day, Red Moon. This is Saris Valkon, I have captured the Farlin who attacked your shipment to Erie last month.” The camera panned left to reveal a Farlin, Kire Kile, blindfolded, and tied down. “Once the bounty you placed on this vagrant has been transferred to my account, you will have your assailant.” The message ended, and the screen turned black.

  “Remind me what the bounty was on Kire?” Varin asked.

  “Fifteen thousand, sir.”

  “Very well," he said coolly. "Authorize a transfer to Saris. That bounty hunter has proven quite useful lately, quick to action, and always pure, unadulterated business. Be sure you make a public example of Kire. Show these idiots that Red Moon is not an organization to fool with.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  Varin inserted another disk. This time, a familiar face appeared, and said, “This is Jundi Monsat, director of operations on Viriden. We have recently gathered intelligence of a large shipment of supplies moving through Viriden space. Since this is a Council authorized shipment, we are seeking permission from Savatour to move on it.”

  The recording ended, and Traval said, “Supplemental information reveals these supplies are destined for Earth, sir.”

  Varin’s identity was unknown to most in the galaxy. Only a handful truly knew Varin’s secret. He kept his presence and activities to a minimal, in order to continue the deception. Savatour was the codename for Red Moon’s leader. When Varin heard what Traval said, his eyes physically widened out, a sure sign from Chokmnds that his heartbeat had raised. “Excellent,” he was almost too eager to let out. “Send immediate authorization to proceed. Tell them…” he paused to consider his words, “to wipe out the entire convoy, instill a little extra fear in all who do business with Earth. But ensure they use different ships. This must look like a pirate raid. We cannot make the mistake of thinking such a direct attack will be brushed off easily. They cannot suspect it has any ties to our previous attacks.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Varin went through the remaining disks on his desk; authorizing an assassination on Seweza, approving goods movements through systems that required illegal tactics to avoid high tariffs, paying off smugglers in his organization, even placing a bounty of fifty thousand credits on a highly ranked official in the Savin’s government. The Savin had authorized an inquiry into Red Moon activity on Savina that was getting too close to their organization. Eliminating him would scare off further investigations for years.

  When Varin finally retrieved the last disk from his terminal, He was slightly relieved to be done with the trivial matters, Varin turned to Traval to discuss more interesting circumstances. “There is one more matter I must discuss with you.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “You should know our recent attack at Earth has fallen to the attention of the Galactic Council.”

  “Really!” Traval replied. “What matter is it of the Council’s to meddle in pirate attacks?”

  “Unfortunately, the human ambassador has convinced the Council this attack might just not be the work of disgruntled pirates. Our plan to destroy the restoration supplies was too obvious. They believe the attackers had advanced warning. First, I want you to find Jawal. It was his plan, his failure. Remove him from my organization. Use discretion, though, I did like his enthusiasm for direct action against Earth. Let's not quell any such future ambition.

  "Second, Paquiko wants me to investigate who these attackers are more thoroughly, as a good-faith gesture to the humans. I want a report drafted, pointing the finger away from Red Moon. Let's give the Council another target to focus on.”

  “Does the Council or Earth suspect Red Moon?’

  “No, I do not believe so," he said looking past Traval and contemplating the possibility. "I would just like to direct their attention away before it’s too late.”

  “Anyone specific you want to be implicated?”

  “Let's see…perhaps the Blue Blazes would be a good choice. They have never had good relations with humans, and they do tend to use Chokmnd ships. Bringing a little heat from the Council on them might also free us up to establish a larger operation on Helmstat.”

  “Excellent idea, sir. I will get to work right away.” He started to leave.

  “Don’t worry about making it too concrete, the Council need only be distracted for a while. The final plan is coming together. The humans are getting restless, and the Council is starting to divide.”

  Traval turned and left the office. Varin sat in his chair staring at the empty terminal. Dreams of ridding himself from this cloak of deception flowed through his head. Soon enough, he told himself, soon enough he would no longer need to hide behind the hooded communications, and the decoys. He would reveal himself to the galaxy, and take control, as he believed he rightfully should.

  Probe

  The Rinada lifted off from Cedona, headed for the portal to Onderon. Zavik turned to Dani and said, "We prepared for the jump to Onderon?"

  "Yes. All systems are in order," she paused. "Zavik, are you sure we can trust the ambassador?"

  "I want to believe so," he said softly. "I've known Mike a long time, and if he'll vouch for her, he must trust her."

  "It's just," she paused, "I've go
t this feeling that we're headed for more trouble than we're used to. It's a little overwhelming, to be honest."

  "I know it is." He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. "This is the type of stuff you only get used to by doing. I hate to say it, but I did a lot of diving in head first without asking enough questions when I was in the Force. I like to not make the same mistakes twice. Guess we'll see how that goes when we get to Onderon."

  The Rinada passed through the ruptured space bubble filling the portal. Instantly, they were transported thirteen thousand light-years from Cedona. Conveniently for Zavik and Dani, Cedona had at least one active portal to every other known system.

  Zavik moved the Rinada away from the portal while Dani started to scan the planet. Tapping into Onderon’s network was easy for her; they failed to do routine maintenance on their firewall, like most systems these days. It would routinely crash, and they would put in no real effort to reestablish it. “There, I’ve put the location the ambassador gave us on the nav. I’ll search for anything on Canderon Vask, see if we can get a current location."

  The Rinada moved closer to the planet, heading straight for Oneida. Zavik had never been to Oneida, but this was not his first trip to Onderon. “Oneida’s a large port city. One of my first jobs was to Messana, a rival port to the north. The local warlord had cheaper tariffs on the contraband I was carrying.”

  Glancing up from the screen. "I thought you told the ambassador you didn't carry contraband?" she asked with a smile.

  "I said I didn't do it a lot."

  Dani looked back at the terminal. “Well, I’m not seeing anything recent on Vask. Any ideas?”

  “I did meet a Chokmnd when I was here who was deep into the mining underground. He might be of some help.”

  “Can we trust him?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Zavik stared into the vast space, trying to recall any memory of the alien he was seeking. “I remember...he made good conversation when we had business dealings and was fairly friendly to me. That’s saying a lot for a Chokmnd, especially when it’s towards humans. Just look up Brax Miro, see what you can dig up on him.”

  Dani turned back to the terminal and set to searching for Brax Miro. Dani’s skill at accessing information from secure networks was a valuable asset. One Zavik had grown to rely on more than he liked to admit. She never came clean on where she developed her skills and even kept her abilities a secret at first. He only found out when they were caught by the local authorities on Eldray with a large supply of Promezian weed, banned from harvesting by the Council over two thousand years ago. It was very much illegal to be transporting it. Dani suddenly delved into their systems and implanted a fake permit to transport Baslin grass, a harmless spice that was commonly shipped to Eldray. They were let go without much questioning and Zavik was immensely impressed.

  “Ok…let’s see," she said. "Brax Miro, current residence in Oneida, Onderon. Occupation listed under off-systems goods movements. Wow, that almost sounds legitimate."

  “Any residence addresses, or nightlife info? Check his credit usage, see if he frequents any specific place.”

  “I was just getting to that,” she snapped back. “Seems like he’s at this tavern called Fallon’s Point, almost every night. It’s only a block from his residence.”

  “That sounds like a good public place to reacquaint with an old friend,” he said.

  “As long as that old friend even remembers you.”

  “How do you forget a face like this?”

  "Lots and lots of therapy," she said softly, shaking her head.

  Ignoring her quip he said, “We’ll have to make this look like a normal business venture for anyone else we run into. Humans aren’t the most abundant or tolerated species on Onderon."

  "More good news."

  Zavik moved the Rinada into Onderon's atmosphere. The planet was barren from the sky, but Zavik knew it was lush with life below, although the life below wasn't the most savory. Onderon was a cesspool of criminal activity. Illegal mining operations dominated the local economy. The Council had tried, in vain, to control the criminal organizations that had taken control of the planets exports. Now the planet was relegated to being an outcast of galactic civility. Humans rarely journeyed to Onderon, it just wasn't safe for them.

  The Rinada flew over Oneida towards a port on the outer edge of the city. Oneida’s towering buildings rose high above the mining operations that occurred directly outside the city walls. The outer edge of the city was carved up from centuries of ever-deeper excavation. An orange dust cloud continually hung over the city as the wind did little to carry the disturbed dust away.

  The port was situated on a lower platform just above the streets. It was sparsely occupied with ships. A few aliens moved about the port, minding their own business. After the engines cooled, and they prepared themselves, they exited the craft. A Rovun tending to his ship glanced at Zavik then stared long and hard at Dani. As soon as she noticed the lingering look she clenched up close to Zavik. Her sudden movement made him hover his hand over his concealed pistol as he surveyed the port. Zavik caught the Rovun looking at them, but the alien quickly turned away. “It’s ok,” Zavik told her, “we don’t have anything to worry about here.”

  They approached the port handler, a Farlin. Thick goggles shielded the Farlin's eyes from the harsh chemicals and emissions of the decaying ships that frequented Onderon. It was a pleasant temperature for humans and most species but the alien was still wrapped in thick protective clothing. It made Zavik want to badly make fun of him. The Farlin said, “What is your business in Oneida, humans?” as he continued to stare at his data pad.

  Zavik had a right mind to tell the Farlin that it was none of his business but thought better of it. “I need fuel and work.”

  “I can help with the fuel," the alien said. "For work, you might get help in the city, but don’t get your hopes up. You’ll not find much friendly in there, to your kind at least.”

  “We’ll see, I’m pretty good at finding those who need a real pilot, with a real ship, and not just some degenerate with a piece of junk not fit for a scrap heap.” He glanced around at the other docked ships. The Rovun was tending to the landing gear that was causing his ship to list to one side. Another freighter sat buried in the dust of the mines. It hadn’t moved in months, Zavik wondered if it could.

  “You’ve got a sharp tongue, human. That may serve you well here, or dig you a hole. Take my warnings serious, or don’t, then I can sell your real ship to the highest bidding degenerate.” They both shared a small laugh at the comment. “Docking fee’s seventy-five a day, and fuel’s twenty-two a gallon. I take it you don’t have any cargo?”

  “Not today.”

  “Then there’s no tariff to settle up." He put his pad down. "You can go.”

  They started to walk away when Zavik turned back to the Farlin. “Do you know how to get to Fallon’s Point?”

  The Farlin eyed him for a second, then reluctantly said, “Go two blocks out of here, take a right, then another two blocks down. Should be on your right. You'll definitely want to watch your tongue there,” he added.

  They left the port station and walked down the streets of Oneida. The city was as dirty as the abandoned ship and looked as if it had never been so much as swept. The lower level buildings were in a state of rapid decay, left to their own accord by an apathetic government. The large funds from mining that had built the port had since dried up, taken by a more powerful organization. Slowly the population was fleeing for greater profit potential. The port city, as well as the whole planet, was in a state of perpetual depression. By the time that they hit the streets they weren’t overly crowded, but the sheer number of aliens had Dani on edge. From Zavik’s perspective, Dani had an unnecessary fear of aliens. She would tend to clam up when around them, as she had already. Zavik was trying to show her that not all aliens wanted to kill her. He wasn’t quite sure Oneida was the right place for a demonstration, though. “S
tay close to me,” Zavik said, “let's walk up against the buildings, not in the middle of the street.”

  Dani nodded and followed.

  Onderon was a primarily Chokmnd colony, though a few other races could be found with business dealings. The planet was rich in titanium, a valuable metal on any market. They had strict laws governing who could mine the metal, and who could ship it off-world. Zavik, and Dani, like most newcomers to Onderon, were greeted with distance and skepticism.

  “We’ll stay on the ship if we end up being here more than twelve hours."

  “Good," she said clenching his arm. "I don’t think I could fall asleep anywhere else. So we're heading straight to the tavern?”

  “Sure, we’re hungry, aren’t we?”

  She glanced at a Savin spitting phlegm from an orifice she couldn't hope to describe. “Speak for yourself.”

  They walked along the road, tracing the path the Farlin detailed. A door hung ajar on a business that used to be a bar. Another next to it stood eight stories tall. The windows of the bottom two stories were either boarded up or broken. Glass littered the streets below. By the time they made it to the tavern the sun had risen high in the sky, baking everything below. The tavern was one of the few places open in the city. A small sign situated above the obscured door let them know they were in the right place. If they weren’t looking for it, they would’ve missed it several times over. It was the perfect place for locals to frequent and not cause a disturbance. Zavik knew they were going to stick out sorely inside.

  “We’re supposed to find something edible in here?” Dani asked.

  “We’re supposed to try,” Zavik said as he pushed open the door. A dark lit room comprised the whole tavern. They made their way to the bar, counting twelve patrons in the place. None took notice as far as they could tell. Even the bartender kept his back to them as they stood there. No amount of grunting or shuffling of feet was getting him to notice them. “Excuse me!” Zavik finally said a little louder than he wished.