Ghitsa was curled in the most comfortable seat in the cabin, filing a
perfect, pink nail when her partner returned. Fen responded to Ghitsa's
unasked inquiry, "They're fine." Fen turned her attention to the cabin's
computer station, wondering if all of it had been passworded.
A moment later, Shada and Dune appeared in the cabin, without the
slightest sound to warn of their approach. Nodding a greeting, Fen started her
mental countdown. She made it to three-a new galactic record-before Ghitsa
asked the inevitable question. "So, what do you have in the way of recent
holovid recordings?"
"We're not here to entertain you," Dune said scornfully.
Shada leaned against the bulkhead, crossing one long leg over the other.
From this vantage, she was. Fen realized, able to observe both the burgeoning
spat and the score in Fen's own battle game.
"Come now, last we heard, Princess Leia had been kidnaped by that rogue
smuggler." Ghitsa rose, and moved across the cabin to a small holovid
recorder. Pawing through the cataloged disks, Ghitsa asked in a pout, "You do
not have anything more recent?" She withdrew a disk from a pocket, "How very
fortunate that I purchased the last two weeks of downlinked Coruscant Daily
Newsfeed before we left."
The trip had just taken a horrifying turn for the worst. The Mistryl
would be demanding combat allowances.
"Have you checked on your passengers yet?" Shada asked.
"The cargo?" Ghitsa asked airily. "Why?"
Shada sent a cool look her direction, then turned without a word and left
the cabin. "How very humanitarian," Ghitsa commented, just loudly enough. "For
a mercenar..."
Annoying electronic theme music interrupted any rejoinders. "Ah, there we
go." Ghitsa sashayed across the cabin, forcing Dune to shift slightly out of
her way. "I confess to being an avid Imperial Palace watcher," she divulged.
An image of a human man appeared on the screen. "Welcome to the Coruscant
Daily Newsfeed. Today's top story, the dramatic kidnaping of Princess Leia
Organa by her former flame, Han Solo."
"White is simply not her color," Ghitsa clucked.
Dune threw Ghitsa a look of obvious disdain as the vid droned on. "And
now Organa's brother, Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, and Hapan Prince bolder have
gone in search of the errant Princess."
"He'll never find them," Fen declared. "Not a chance."
"Of course he will," Dune countered, clearly being drawn into the
conversation despite herself. "A Jedi Knight using the Force-was
"Force, my blaster," Fen retorted, pulling on a loose thread on her
flight suit. "He's just a farm boy from a dust bowl."
"A very lucky farmer," Ghitsa murmured. "I wish I'd taken those odds on
the second Death Star...."
"I'd say Skywalker has a better chance than anyone of finding his sister,
" Shada put in.
Fen had not even heard Shada return from the cargo hold. "Unless her
ladyship doesn't want to be found," the smuggler sneered.
They all started at Ghitsa's loud outburst of laughter. "Why would that
be, Fen? Not everyone is as smitten with the astral General Solo as you were."
Fen stiffened involuntarily. "Me? Smitten? He could only wish."
"Is that why there is still a Wookiee-sized bunk on the StarLady?"
"You know I had that bunk installed specially to accommodate your
shoulder pads, Ghitsa." Fen slipped out of her seat. "I'm going to go check on
the cargo, make sure they weren't damaged."
"I've just checked," Shada told her. "They're fine."
"Glad to hear it," Fen said shortly. "You don't mind if I look for
myself, do you?"
Fen headed out of Ghitsa's line of verbal fire. Prowling down the
passage, she took a turn, stopping at the plate concealing the shield
generator. She popped the panel out, pulled a multitool from her pocket, and
waited for Shada to arrive.
She didn't have to wait long. "I don't think you'll find the Twi'leks in
there," came the Mistryl's calm voice.
"No Sithspawn?" Fen peered at the deflector matrix. "Must have taken a
wrong turn."
"You must also be feeling particularly foolhardy today," Shada warned.
"Oh, come on, Shada. You know I know what I'm doing."
"Perhaps." Shada lifted an eyebrow. "On the other hand, would you allow
me to tinker with the Star Lady?"
"Not while fully conscious," Fen conceded, pocketing the tool. "Fine. You
check the rear shields."
Shada stepped to the wall and punched a button. A hidden panel slid open
at Fen's elbow, exposing a row of tools. Waving Fen out of the way, she
selected a scanner and probe tip and set to work. "So tell me, Fen," she said.
"What is going on here?"
"Should be obvious," Fen said, craning her neck to see over Shada's
shoulder. "With that wind shear slamming the ship down stern first and the
rough ride out, I figured the shield had probably gone weak back there."
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean?" Fen asked, trying to sound innocent and sly at the
same time.
Shada glanced up at her. "I meant what are you doing with..." She seemed
to struggle to find a suitable word, finally gave up. "Her."
"Ghitsa?" Fen laughed. "She's not bad with a datapad, and she can cook."
"And she's got Coruscantan Imperial stamped all over her," Shada said
bluntly. "What do you really know about her?"
"Probably no more than you do," Fen countered. "Come on, Shada. I know
the Mistryl have her mapped out. Her entry is probably right next to mine in
the "useful but untrustworthy" category."
"She's not Jett, though, is she?" Shada observed quietly, the question
really a statement.
A thick, tense silence hung in the air. "That's the whole point," Fen
finally replied, her voice dead.
Shada's next words were careful, like a sculptor gently carving a piece
of limestone. "Jett Nabon was a man of great compassion."
"And look where that got him," Fen spat. "Dead on the floor of an Ord
Mantell cantina, with a bunch of drunks stepping over his carcass for last
call at the bar. He might have lived if someone had bothered to pull the
vibroblade out of his throat, but nobody showed him any compassion."
"His compassion also brought trade to the Mistryl when almost no one else
would," Shada continued, ig-noring the outburst. "I think that's why the
Eleven agreed to this contract with you, despite their misgivings about your
partner. Because we honor his memory."
"And look where it got you." Fen pointed over Shada's shoulder at one of
the flux rods. "Make sure you tighten that one," she said. "It can jar loose
sometimes."
"Already did." Shada picked up the panel and snapped it back in place
before speaking again. "That same compassion compelled Jett to pull a young,
abandoned pickpocket off the streets of Coronet and adopt her as his own."
"Guess you could say that was another one of his mistakes, huh?"
Silently, Shada returned the tools to their wall case. Still silently,
she headed forward, leaving Fen alone with her memories.
Since Leb'Reen, Fen could but marvel at how
Ghitsa managed to sneak the
word "mercenary" or "Imperial" into the exchange with Dune lasting more than
two sentences. It kept the conversation entertaining and far more dangerous
than Fen normally preferred.
She and Ghitsa were now waiting in the cabin. Dune and Shada were forward
for their first course correction. The itch to be in the cockpit became an
ache as Fen felt the ship drop into normal space. Just when she thought the
whole process was taking a bit too long, Shada's voice called over the comm.
"Fen, get up here."
She was out other seat and halfway up the passage before Ghitsa caught
up.
As they ducked into the cockpit, Shada swiveled around in the pilot's
chair. "I want your opinion on something the sensor sweep turned up."
A few degrees off the bow a metal cylinder turned lazily on a spindle. An
antenna protruded from its top. Stang, Fen swore silently. The trip had just
gotten a whole lot more interesting.
Shada was watching them closely. "It looks like a relay buoy," she said.
"Apparently, it's picking up ship signatures as they drop in here."
"Blast it," Fen uttered curtly.
Shada was already bringing The Fury's laser battery to bear on the buoy.
"Yes. I intend to."
"It's probably too late, though," Ghitsa opined as she eased into the
cockpit's rear seat. "Whoever put it there will know soon enough we were here
and where we're headed."
"Who would care?" Dune challenged.
For once, Ghitsa favored her with a straight answer. "Anyone interested
in what travels on the smugglers' hyperspace lanes between Ryloth and Nal
Hutta."
"Ryll pirates," Shada said, making the name a curse.
"Or worse," Fen said.
Shada deftly moved the targeter on her board. A sure punch and the buoy
exploded, for an instant a brilliant orange glowing flower on the canvas of
space. "Any particular "worse" you had in mind, Fen?" Shada asked.
"The Karazak Slavers Cooperative springs to mind," Ghitsa put in grimly.
"The KSC used to ambush ships along this line looking for Twi'leks to sell."
"Anyone who does this run will know that a ship from Ryloth will normally
change course here," Fen added. "Usually for a jump to the Naps Fral cluster..
. And then a set-up there for the final jump to Nal Hutta," Shada finished for
her. "Which means that a relay buoy here implies a trap waiting at Naps Fral."
Ghitsa nodded. "The KSC was once very active on this route. Jabba stopped
it because he thought too many valuable slaves were dying in the ambushes."
Shada gazed at both of them, her dark eyes thoughtful. Dune could learn
much from that knowing, quiet surety, Fen thought. It was probably why the
younger Mistryl had been paired with Shada in the first place.
"Jabba died four years ago," Shada pointed out. "Were you expecting the
KSC to have moved back in here since then?
"There were reasons we wanted Mistryl," Fen responded truthfully. "The
possibility of the KSC returning was one of them."
Turning back to her board, Shada nosed The Fury in the direction of the
Naps Fral cluster. "Well, there's no going back now," she said simply. "Looks
like you may get your money's worth after all."
"No!" Ghitsa protested with a stamp of her shiny boot. "I am going to
ride up front. I'm a perfectly capable copilot-was
"Forgot to take your antidelusional medication today?" Fen cooed, pushing
past her and into a cockpit seat.
Since the last course change, Ghitsa had harped endlessly on about
wanting to be in the cockpit when they dropped into the Naps Fral cluster. She
now curled her hands into tiny fists, reminding Fen of an extremely petulant
toddler.
"She can stay," Shada said calmly as she slid into the pilot's chair.
Ghitsa smiled like a child just presented with a space pop. "However," Shada
added in the same tone, "if she says or does anything to annoy me or distract
us, I'll cripple her."
"Unless I beat her to it," Dune added, her eyes on the monitor readouts.
"Give you a cool thousand if you let me do it," Fen offered.
"I can too fly," Ghitsa stated for the official record, dropping into her
hard-earned seat.
"Sure you can, Ghits," Fen mocked. "Just like the time your nav
coordinates would have put us into Corellia's sun?"
"We would have just grazed the corona," Ghitsa said defensively.
"How about the time you were shooting at dust because you thought it was
draining the shields?"
"It was draining the shields."
"It was dust backslash Blasting dust will just make more dust."
"Put a cleaning rag in it, both of you," Shada cut off the growing
argument. "We've got work to do."
Ghitsa bridled, but fell silent. "Sorry," Fen said.
"As I see it, our worst-case scenario is that we'll find an armada
waiting for us when we drop in," Shada went on. "They may try to hit the
engines with surgical turbolaser blasts; more likely, they'll have a heavy ion
cannon ready for a saturation disabling."
"After which they'll board us, take the Twi'leks, and kill us," Fen
nodded. "Which means they'll try to be right in front of us or else aligned on
our probable exit vector."
"That was my reading, too," Shada answered. "So our obvious countermove
is to simply come in two or three seconds early."
Fen swallowed as she pulled up a chart of the Naps Fral system. Most
hyperspace entry coordinates had a built-in "safety zone" of a second or two.
In-system pilots knew to stay out of the zones to keep from having a ship pop
into real space on top of them. Studying the chart, Fen realized Shada had,
once again, done her homework. Three seconds would put the ship just outside
the zone, probably not too close to anything lethal. Probably. Hopefully.
Ghitsa was clearly thinking along the same lines. "Isn't altering your
hyperspace entry point... dangerous?" she asked in a small voice.
"Very," Dune said absently.
"It's definitely a maneuver with a warning on the box that says, "Don't
try this at home!" Fen forced a quip.
"Stay sharp, everyone," Shada said. "At my mark. Fifteen, fourteen..." At
five seconds, she squeezed her hand over the levers, and star lines melted to
the milky cluster of Naps Fral.
A flash of blue ion fire cut across their bow, the proximity alarm
pealed, and Shada pulled The Fury around in the direction of the threat. In
the span it took for the sensors to tell her what had just tried to paste
them, Fen reached over and switched off the alarms, wondering why anyone even
bothered with the prijgin things. If you needed them, you were already dead in
space anyway.
"Kuat Firespray-class ship," she announced through clenched teeth.
"Switching over," Dune said, her voice unreasonably calm. The Fury shook
as a pair of concussion missiles blazed off in the direction of their
welcoming committee.
"Fen, find out what the computer knows about Fire sprays," Shada ordered.
"Right."
The Fury jerked to port, then rolled starboard as Shada bounced between
bursts of ion energy.
At Fen's elbow, the computer display began spewing technical information.
was Tuter says this model's got a ticklish spot in the port shield," Fen
called. "Right below the stabilizer fin."
"Stang," Dune muttered. "Wouldn't you know we'd come in on their
starboard."
Shada pushed on the throttle. Still dodging between bursts of ion fire,
she lunged straight for the attacking ship. At the last moment, she hauled on
the rudder, bringing The Fury under the belly of the Firespray. There was a
sickening crackle of ion discharge and a lurch-
"What does that red light mean?" Ghitsa asked, pointing over Fen's
shoulder.
Fen shoved the other's rigid arm out of her face. "It means bad," she
spat. "We took a hit to that weak aft shield," she added for the benefit of
the others. "Another hit and we're in trouble."
"They won't get the chance," Shada gritted as they burst clear of the
Firespray. Yanking on the throttle, she reversed the forward thrust hard, and
flipped The Fury back over. The Firespray's left fin magically appeared before
Tales From the New Republic Page 22