Tales From the New Republic

by Peter Schweighofer

  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