Star Wars: Republic Dawn

[machievelli]

I see what you mean. I have so many options. I will revise the chapter Too Late. Everyone give me about a week on that.

 

So, shall I finish book one and go on to book 2? I give the saucy 15 year old minx a name in that one.

[Jae Onasi]

"Did the Force assist Landru in saving his people" and "Was Landru evil" are two very different questions. The first asks about method, the second ethics. A third question--did Landru use the Force or did the Force use him?

I can't decide on if he used or got used by the Force. Was he evil? Yes.

I don't mind Landru being a sociopath that destroys an entire planet. It's very dark side. You can be a Hannibal Lechter-level sociopath and still manage to create good from thoroughly evil acts, intentionally or unintentionally.

 

Just my opinion, fwiw--Sanji's method of death bugged me a bit, probably because I always feel Jedi deserve 'noble' deaths if they really have to die in stories. It's like even in death they should be contributing something positive to life.

Sure, 'bad' deaths happen in real life all too often (DUIs, GSWs, etc), but SW isn't real life. My 2 pence.

[machievelli]

I am working at rewriting parts of both Too Late and Cordon Sanitaire. I think I might surprise you...

[Char Ell]

I give two thumbs up :thumbsup: for Republic Dawn for compelling characters, lots of hi-powered action, and a plot that really grabs hold of the reader. Well, at least one reader anyway.

[machievelli]

Posts 60 (Too Late) and 69 (Cordon Sanitaire) have been rewritten to reflect Jae's comments.

 

Post 79 is the end of part one.

[machievelli]

The never ending mission...

 

Padawan Dame Breia Solo stood before the line of ships. After discovering the gift of the Coruscanti Chancellor had given, Corellia Ryloth and even Nal Hutta had not wanted to be left out. She thought they had given their gift only to assure that they were thought of fondly by the Jedi, but that might be her own cynicism talking.

 

Of course the Hutt had supplied ships built by the Kuati, but it was the thought after all.

 

Seven medium cargo vessels were already en route to the other planets where the Order had Monasteries, one for each. The courier class ships given had been divided up so every one of the eight monasteries had four, and just to show equanimity, they had been split up so everyone was represented on the core systems. She sighed. While each of the other cargo ships were as yet unnamed, (Merely being called Jedi transport one to seven) there were more than enough names in the rolls of their dead for each of the couriers to receive names. Master Hontu was the only one with a cargo ship named after him.

 

She walked down the line. At the end was the computer panel, and she knew by asking it the list would be displayed. Every name of those 32 ships would strike a cord in her heart. She had known or learned of every one of them.

 

Only four were assigned to Coruscant. Four of the ships gleamed before her on the tarmac beside her own, waiting for their next assignments. Their crews, their missions...

 

Their deaths.

 

Padawan Sani of Naboo was remaining assigned to Coruscant along with three others. She could think of nothing that fit what they had lost more this last month than the ships that still sat waiting.

 

She reached up to touch the nose of each. Master Sookor of Echana, A sleek arrowhead shape like her own Hawk Flight. She would go on to Ossus as soon as a flight crew could be assigned. Master Gretu of Triseki, the sweeping lines of the Ryloth shipyards. And Padawan Yaka of Ithor. He would have probably been confused if he’d seen the ship that represented him. Irony was something he hadn’t mastered.

 

The Kuati designed ships that were not only fast, but heavily armed. Not two but 3 chain guns, a rotary fast reload launcher with six missiles. It looked like a pirate, named after the most gentle being she had ever known.

 

Padawan teacher Yodai was bouncing down the lane toward the tarmac, Padawan Learner Samsun though almost three times his height was almost jogging to keep up.

 

“Bought all the stores you have?” Yodai asked.

 

“Yes, master.”

 

“And tea is fully stocked?”

 

“Of course, Master.”

 

“Then leave we can?”

 

“If you let me go to the bathroom first!”

 

Yodai stopped, looking up at the tall man. “Should have gone before we left.”

 

Samsun stared at him, then grinned. “That’s a joke, right?”

 

“Joke I never do.” Yodai turned, an eyelid dropping in a lazy wink at Breia. “Ready you are Padawan Solo?”

 

Breia shook her head. “I am still waiting for my new Padawan learner.” She sighed. “Perhaps you should allow Samsun to run to the bathroom before we leave?”

 

“Control very important. Younglings must learn control. Of everything.” He glanced slyly at the young man. “Bladders especially.”

 

“All right, I know that was a joke!”

 

The elders chuckled. He dashed aboard Master Gretu of Triseki.

 

“Assigned you are where?”

 

“I am off to Mandalore. They want to have a Jedi handle the negotiations between the hiring authority and the Duros. And you?”

 

“To Lortu I am bound. End the war with Berodilo and Duloc they wish.”

 

“It’s about time. That war is older than I am.”

 

A figure in robe was walking toward them. Breia’s heart stopped. Yaka?

 

The Ithorian stopped, bowing. “Masters.”

 

They acknowledged her. She turned to Breia. “Master Solo, I am Meeri. I have been assigned as your Padawan Learner.”

 

“How did you do in sword training?”

 

“While I do not like the idea of using a weapon, I understand that it might become necessary.”

 

“It might.” Breia agreed. “Can you cook?”

 

“This is not something I learned, Master.”

 

“Call me Breia. The one thing to remember is that most beings do not eat all of their food raw. I can cook, but there will be times when I am too busy with the problem we are dealing with to cook, so you will have to learn some cooking.” She turned, walking toward Hawk Flight. “The first thing you will learn to cook is one of my old apprentice’s favorites. They are called Pancakes. As long as you stay away from the Coruscanti glow spice syrup and the Fire spice syrup. ..

[Renegade Puma]

Bravo, bravo...... Great job Machievelli, keep it up. Reading your story is such a pleasure.

[machievelli]

Confrontation

 

It looked like an easy prize. One bumbling Corellian CEC J8 class medium cargo carrier with a Corellian Courier in escort. The planet Selden had reported a massive outbreak of Iridian plague, and the first ships with the necessary vaccine was ahead of them. The vaccine was worth it’s weight in Corellian fire opals on the black market.

 

The Pirate, an old Coruscanti Raptor class Escort slipped from the asteroid field, launching her four fighters. The fighters were a more eclectic mix. The newest was A Naboo A4 Streak. Two were Corellian Rampants, and the last was an ancient Alderaani Night Hawk.

 

The fighters dived in, headed for a choice morsel.

 

*****

 

“Three, two, one, disconnect.” The pilot of the Courier ordered, ramming the throttle forward.

 

*****

 

The sensor screened blossomed. The freighter seemed to be coming apart in front of their eyes. Had it exploded? No, now there were five blips instead of two, and three of them were arcing back toward the fighters. One was charging instead for the mother ship. The transponders on every one of those ships came alive at the same instant.

 

“Jedi!” The sensor officer screamed.

 

“Get us out of here!” The captain ordered.

 

The Courier fired a missile. The captain blanched. He’d never seen a missile that fast before. At least 25% light speed. Must be one of the brand new Corellian Spearfish.

 

The missile slammed into the side, buckling the hull, but didn’t explode.

 

“Ha!” The captain roared, waving his fist. “Get us out of here before they know we’re still here!”

 

“Just a second.” The navigator finished his calculations, and the escort vanished into hyper space. Unperturbed, the courier turned on a wing, joining her fellows. The fighters were shredded, and cables snapped out to drag the emergency support pods back to the cargo ship, which had turned to meet them. Suited personnel climbed out, pulling the pods in one by one, and the cargo hatch closed.

 

Master Hobart came in after the bay was re-pressurized, followed by his new Padawan learner Sienna Dodonna. They went to the pod that had come from the Streak. The pilot wearing a full helmet glared at them and waved a pistol threateningly.

 

Sienna smiled, then drew, her blade punching through the transparisteel, into the pistol. She jerked, and the blade sliced out of the cockpit, chopping the pistol in half in the process. She pulled the exterior release handle, and smiled again as the cockpit canopy came open. “Any more acts of defiance? Please?”

 

He raised the uninjured hand, and before she could react a blade shot out of it and was imbedded in his head.

 

The helmet revealed that he was a Barabel.

 

The other three were Barabel as well. None survived. One had been injured and bled out. The other two had taken their own lives.

 

“I thought that one would have just given up.” The girl grumped. “It’s not like he had a chance to escape.”

 

“Tight operational security.” Hobart replied. “If we can’t interrogate them, we can’t find out hiding place. They think.”

 

They went forward. The flight crew nodded at them, and the communications officer turned. “We got it, Master Hobart.”

 

“Send it to all units.” The Young Jedi nodded, tapping a button, then hit the all units key.

 

“So. Weslen.” One voice, another female replied. “Are you coming with?”

 

“No. I will let the children flit along on those one while the old man follows behind, Padawan Solo.”

 

“As you will.” The voice went from light to business-like. “All couriers, match your nav computers to mine. Prepare for hyper jump.” Hawk Flight dropped one wing, and the four small ships rotated onto the new course. A moment later they were gone.

 

The Cargo vessel Master Hontu turned onto the same course, and entered Hyper.

 

“ETA 2 days.” The pilot reported.

 

“They’ll be there in 17 hours.” Sienna sighed. “I wish I was with them.”

 

“That is why you are still a Padawan leaner, even with your gift for conciliation.” Hobart replied calmly. “That and the way you dress.”

 

“There is that.” She gave him a gamin grin. A number of marines who had been on the assault on station Alpha 4, especially 2nd squad second platoon of the 7th Marine Assault Force would have recognized the 19 year old by that grin alone. Her eyes twinkled. “But what’s wrong with the way I dress?” She asked, throwing her arms to the side. Am I not a girl?” She waved toward her clothes. The skirt, which on most Jedi was merely a robe had been slit up both sides to her hips, and then folded into Vees front and back, exposing quite shapely legs. The sleeves had been cut off at the shoulders, and the vest...

 

He sighed. “Sienna. The way you dress anyone with eyes in their head can tell you’re female. And any human man that sees you is well aware that he is a man.” Hobart closed his eyes. Leave it to Soo-chin to saddle him with this girl! “However we Jedi try to be a little more... circumspect.”

 

“As my sister the Navy Captain used to say before she became stodgy, if you got it flaunt it!”

 

He shook his head again. “Sienna I spoke with the Marines after the Alpha 4 attack.”

 

“What did those dear boys have to say?” She looked at him with that innocent expression she did so well.

 

“Those dear boys all seemed to think you wanted to date them! Right up to the Master Gunnery Sergeant old enough to be your grandfather!”

 

“All I did was say what Grandpapa always does.” She grinned again. “I never understood why you would ask a stupid question like ‘do you want to live forever‘! Most people I know would say ‘hell yes’! But Marines?” She chuckled. “Ask them something like that and they charge!”

 

“As soon as you can show me some propriety, we can discuss perhaps assigning you as a Padawan Teacher.” He said reprovingly.

 

“Yes Master.” He left. The two Padawan at the controls chuckled.

 

“Cold shower or meditation?” The pilot asked.

 

“Both.” Sienna said.

 

They laughed.

 

*****

 

The four ships dropped out in the Weslen system. There wasn’t much there, a lackluster little K0 star, three planets that looked as if they were embarrassed by their proximity, and a space station.

 

“Receiving data.” Padawan Meeri reported. Breia looked at the screen.

Padawan Sani of Naboo was tucked in tight on her left, Master Gretu of Triseki, Padawan Yaka of Ithor echeloned on her right. A standard finger four formation.

 

“Quick conference, people, and we’ll go in. The station is owned by a Twi-lek corporation, or was the last I heard. A way station between Bilbringi and Bogden and the Corellian Run. Anyone else got better data?”

 

“Sold it was two years ago.” Yodai replied from Master Gretu of Triseki. “Coruscant company Wayfarer Enterprises.”

 

“Wayfarer. That’s pretty new.” Padawan Carola Mortai of Alderaan added from [/i]Padawan Yaka of Ithor[/i]. They only started trading on the Stock market right before the Sulishti mess.”

 

“Has anyone noticed that the company is not run by humans?” Padawan Reyes of Corellia asked. “How many companies registered out of Coruscant are run by aliens?”

 

“Sixty-two.” Breia and Yodai chorused.

 

“That many?”

 

“Center of Galactic Trade Alliance Coruscant has become.” Yodai said. “Register on Coruscant, makes you important some think.”

 

“All right people. Reset transponders. Meeri, pick a number between one and ten. Everyone pick one of your own. Whoever is closest goes in first. Remember, we’re just honest independent couriers doing our jobs, so act like the straights, okay?”

 

It came down to Reyes, the newest of the Padawan teachers going first, followed by Yodai, Carola, and Breia last. She watched as each ship peeled out of the formation. “I think you jigger the numbers when I ask you to do that?”

 

“Do what?” Meeri asked.

 

“I ask you to pick a number on these joint missions, and if mine is even close someone else goes first anyway.”

 

“Would I do that to you?” The Ithorian asked with a hurt expression.

 

“In a heartbeat.”

 

Meeri shook her head. “I am only surprised that it took you so long to figure it out.”

 

“All right, just for that I hide the Calla berry syrup!”

 

“That’s mean.”

 

Breia shook her head. Yaka had been serious, and careful around humans. Meeri... She was a practical joker. The deadpan delivery was so well done you could rarely tell when she was joking. Her first such jape, replacing Breia’s favorite Fire Spice syrup with Alderaan honey Breia had at first merely assumed was a mistake in commissary services. When it had been replaced with Corellian Night Bloom midway through, that first trip she had finally figured it out.

 

“Time.” Meeri smoothly accelerated. She touched the com panel, looking at the heads up display. “Independent Echani Courier Flitter-bird requesting docking approach.”

 

“Flitter-bird. Docking bay 17 is open. Welcome to station Kroomerik.”

 

“They didn’t change the name registry.” Breia mused. I wonder why? Where is the target?”

 

Meeri checked the scanner. The limpet transmitter that they had fired into the Raptor ’s hull came back just fine. “All systems down. Docking bay 19. Two over starboard.”

 

“Can we access their nav computer again?”

 

“I would advise against it.” Meeri commented. “We had best wait until they power back up for departure.”

 

Breia sighed. Patience was not one of her virtues.

 

The station was a large wheel about five kilometers across. A docking bay was set about every 100 meters along her 16 kilometers of hull, broken by four huge storage bays. Ever since they had contacted the station, they had been bombarded by the shops of the station. If they had needed anything, it could have been bought here. Breia’s face grew grim as an ad for a ships’ chandler came up. One hell of a lot of ship board and personal weapons were being sold out of that place. She called down for a list, and leaned back, looking it over.

 

“Aren’t the Merr Sohn G14s on the restricted list?”

 

“Yes.” Meeri looked at the photo on the pad. The G14 was a heavy projectile rifle that would put a round through the ship they were on. “They are supposed to be military and military export only.”

 

“And look at this. Arkanian missiles I have never even heard of!”

 

Meeri looked again. “GT17s.” She looked at Breia with alarm. “Those are so new not even the Arkanian Navy has them!”

 

“Verpine hyper rifles, Cortech grenades in every flavor-”

 

“Humans taste grenades?”

 

“An expression.” Breia looked at her sourly. She could tell she had been twitted yet again. Look at this.” She handed the pad over as they docked.

 

Another ad was now displayed. It was for a ship retailer. The ad was below a ship that shouldn’t even bee seen yet. “A CEC Swift!” Meeri looked up. “The Swift isn’t even completed yet!”

 

“I know. Dad is still flying the test models.

 

“Yet this... ‘Delivery can be arranged by the end of the year‘.”

 

Breia tapped the pad against her hand. “What do we have bound for Weslen?”

 

“Nothing. But we do have a package meant for them.” Meeri tapped the logo for the arms dealer they had been checking. “And a few additions to the package would not be amiss.”

 

“Then we had best get dressed for out little play.”

[Renegade Puma]

Yay! Meeri and Breia are back! Woo hoo! Can't wait to see where this story goes.

[machievelli]

Investigation

 

“Captain Breia Magulagi.” Breia said, handing over the ship ID chit. The customs man nodded, slotting it into his reader, and scanned it quickly. Breia had assumed the customs check was merely proforma, but it hadn’t been the case. He checked crew medical records, last port of call in case of disease, and cargo.

 

“Just the one crate?” He asked as a coffin sized box was lowered.

 

“Yes. Addressed to Cariali Chandlers. We aren’t going near Taris because of a problem my shipmate has with their customs officials, so we are going to see if they’ll accept here, and trans-ship it.”

 

“There’s been a lot of that. Ever since Taris decided to turn their continent into one massive city. And their immigration policies.” The customs officer looked at the sullen looking Ithorian with the woman. “If you’d like, I will hold it in the bonded storage area while you contact them.”

 

“Thank you.” Breia took back the updated chip, slipping it in the pouch before pocketing it. “Where is Cariali located?”

 

“North 17 right beside the Stars end Cantina.”

 

“Thank you.” She motioned for Meeri and they walked into the passageway.

 

“I don’t feel right about leaving the ship unguarded.” Meeri whispered.

 

“I agree. But A4 will watch over it for us.” Breia replied. The Transit car station was ahead, and she bought two all day chits. The chits slid into the reader, and they boarded the next car.

 

Behind them, a Dug stuck up his head, then slipped into the bay. He smacked his lips at the sight. A Corellian CEC Shadow class Courier! It might be four years old, but the design was superb! He moved to the entry ramp, and slid a box over to stand on. His burglar tools were laid out, and he looked at them carefully. Then he selected one, and began tinkering with the lock. When the first did not open the ship, he patiently set it aside, picking yet another slimmer tool. After a few moments, there was a hiss, and the ramp dropped down. Grinning, he trundled up the ramp. It closed after him.

 

*****

 

The cantina was dark, close, and for Breia who didn’t spend a lot of time in them, exciting. “Want to try some Corellian Red ale?” She asked. “Yaka liked it.”

 

Meeri glanced at he. “Yaka undoubtedly didn’t tell you that alcohol has no effect on us.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Yes, we get our ‘buzz’ as it were from sugar water.”

 

“Right.” Breia expected that she was being twitted again, looking around. Over in the corner she could see Padawan learner Samsun. but where was...

 

A hand came up, and Yodai pulled himself up onto Samsun‘s shoulder, growling. Then he climbed down and inhaled a bowl of pretzels. Samsun looked as disreputable as could be, unlike Breia’s persona of a slightly tatty ex-officer. In another corner Padawan Reyes looked even more disreputable. He had his hair uncombed, shaggy, and wore a thermal undershirt with an open neck, Black Corellian Navy uniform pants, and a black vest over it all. All he needs is a Corellian Blood stripe and he’d be perfect. She thought. Carola was propping up the bar almost dead center, looking as if she’s had more than enough to drink.

 

Breia scanned the bar as her character would. “Meeri, find a table. I’m going next store.”

 

“As you wish Captain. I‘m thirsty.” Meeri snarled. She was doing the disgruntled employee very well. The martinet she was pretending to be would take care of business first. And she wouldn’t take crap from a crewman. “And if you’re drunk again, I’ll bloody leave you!” She roared. The crowd grew silent.

 

Meeri didn’t turn. Her hands clenched as if she wished they wee around her captain’s throat, then her head drooped. “Yes, Captain.”

 

Breia glared at them, then spun and stalked out. Cariali’s was a good sized shop, and she ran her eyes over the display. The law had obviously slipped on the station. At least half of what was there in plain sight was illegal. She walked in, looking around.

 

A Selonian looked up from the sales terminal, walking across. “Greeting Captain.”

 

“I have a package for your establishment on Taris, but I am not putting up with racist crap.”

 

“Ah. From Coronet?”

 

She pretended to be surprised. The Selonians lived on another world in the Corellian system. “Nearby. The Westfall hills.”

 

“Nice country.” The sales being said. “Let me see.” He took the chip, went to his desk, and fed it into a reader. “I can take it and send it on. However you cannot be paid full price. You do know the rules.”

 

“Of course I do.” Breia snarled. “Just log it off and as soon as I pick up a cargo, I’m out of here back toward the Core.”

 

“Perhaps you can carry something for me? I can pay you well for it.”

 

“How much cubage?”

 

“300 cubic meters.”

 

“We only have about 70 free.”

 

“Carrying part of the consignment would to pay as well of course, but we can negotiate.” The being handed her a pad, and only nightly games of cards against Meeri kept her eyebrows from rising. Whatever it was, it was either highly illegal, or extremely dangerous.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Something you need not concern yourself with considering what you are being paid.” He replied.

 

Illegal then. She pretended to consider. “All right. Have it sent down to bonded storage when you pick up the package from me. My ship is in bay 19.”

 

They traded thumbprints, his on an invoice accepting delivery, hers on one accepting consignment.

 

She walked back to the cantina, ducking as a Toydarian slammed into a bulkhead, and slid down it like a slug. Meeri was at the bar, drinking from a tankard, and growling. Then she turned, addressing the crowd. As she did, her arm caught a Dug, flipping the small being across to slam into another place.

 

“Washing! How many times do you have to scrub a deck to make it clean?” She turned back and forth as if scanning her audience. “Seven times in three days she had me do it. Seven!”

 

Breia watched, her face cold. Yodai was bouncing across the compartment, and as he reached the bar Meeri snatched him up. “Wha’s this?”

 

“Put down my pet, you... Freak!” Samsun had leaped to his feet, charging across the compartment. Meeri flicked the small being aside, and met his rush. They bowled across the deck, people dodging out of the way. They knocked Carola off her feet, fetching up against the table Reyes was at. He leaped up, dumping his beer all over them.

 

There was a slamming sound, and everyone froze. A Human stood at the bar, looking around mildly. In his hands he held a Coruscanti stun blast, a riot control weapon. As big as he was, he didn’t need it. Only a fool would riot when that huge cold face was nearby. The tankard he held was crumpled by the pressure of his arm as he had slammed it down again.

 

“I will not have fighting on my station.” He said in a surprisingly soft voice. “If you want to fight, take it off the station. Preferably without a suit or ship.” He walked over, stepping over Carola. “What is that?” He jerked a thumb at Yodai, who was leaping back toward Samsun.

 

“Mandalorian Bat-ear.” Samsun answered.

 

“Does it have it’s shots?” When he didn’t get an answer, he added, “From the look on your face, I would say no.” He shook his head. “You can pick it up from quarantine when you lift. You and our drunk friend are spending tonight in the cells. as for you.” He glared at Reyes. “You know station rules about liquids on the deck. Accident is one thing, spilling it intentionally is another. Want a fine or the night in the can?”

 

Reyes said a word. Something in Hutt that meant father of the same mother. The Constable looked at him mildly. “While Hutt are hermaphrodites, they can’t do that. At least not to themselves. So tonight you get to study them in detail. The only space left is with a Hutt.”

 

He motioned toward the entryway. But before anyone could move, Carola rolled up, and vomited all over the Constable’s uniform. He looked down at her, shaking his head in disgust. “Tonight is definitely not my night. You, linguist. Pick her up.”

 

Breia stepped aside, watching her compatriots being dragged off to jail. She considered what she had seen. Someone had found out something important, so they had needed to meet. But why was Yodai trying to get into medical? She went to the bar, and bought a drink.

 

“Seems like a quiet night.”

 

“Your crewman shouldn’t drink if she can’t handle it.” The barkeep told her. I’ve never seen Ithorians drink half a gallon of sugar-water and still stand.”

 

“Sugar water?”

 

“Didn’t you know? It’s like that 151 proof jet-fuel the Echani bottle to Ithorians. Usually they just fall on the floor and sleep it off. Yours got mean drunk instead.” He shook his head. “That’s a first.”

 

Breia finished her beer, and strolled out. She checked the station map, found the drunk tank, and headed there. A Constable stopped her checking his log.

 

“Oh, yeah. Those four. Down below in the cells.” He motioned toward a door. “Herman will escort you.” Herman was another human, looking like a troll in the lighting. He grunted, unlocked the door, and led her down a flight of steps.

 

The cells were dank and dark. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was one of the old dungeons that had been built millennia before on Corellia. All seven were filled with at least three prisoners in each. She passed Reyes who shared a cell with a Hutt and Samsun , then in the next cell was Carola Meeri and a Dug. She crossed her arms, tapping her foot. Meeri looked up, eyes bleary.

 

“Again.” Breia said.

 

“Sorry Captain.”

 

“Got anything to say for yourself?”

 

Meeri looked at her, one eye dropping in a slow wink. “No excuse.”

 

“You’ll be scrubbing the head when you get back to the ship.” She warned. “And I’ll take the fine out of your pay.” She turned to Herman. “Keep her overnight. I’ll pay her fine on the way out.”

 

She paid, marching down the passageway to the tram. Whatever information had prompted the ‘meeting’ hadn’t been passed yet.

 

She came to the ship, opening the ramp. A4 was waiting her, photoreceptors trained on her.

 

“Captain, we have an uninvited guest.”

 

She nodded, following the droid into the cargo compartment. She had gotten this one from a courier captain who had been sick of it. For a while she had wanted to get rid of it herself. When she told it not to do something, or berated it for interrupting, the damn thing would sulk. The sight of a 200 kilo metal and plastic spider moping around because it’s feeling were hurt was a sight you had to see to believe.

 

The A4 series droids were designed for shipboard use by the Corellian Navy, but had been recalled because of quirks in the programming. The main problem the A4s had was that it downloaded everything in it’s search for knowledge, meaning that it’s main memory core had to be downloaded or cleaned an average of once every other month. Most Naval personnel didn’t like the problem.

 

There was another problem. The series had a distressing tendency to find ways around problems not suggested by normal procedure. The fact that she found 80% of this A4s suggestions better than the Book hadn’t swayed the navy in the slightest.

 

Breia on the other hand found it refreshing to have a constant store of information on hand. Instead of wiping the banks periodically, she had instead had a chip writer installed in the damn thing and every time the memory banks got too full, it would download all programs it considered nonessential and stored them in a holder that looked like an egg sac under it‘s rump.

 

What A4 had retained for constant use was astonishing, suggesting to her that the droid might be self aware. If so it was a first. Except for some self protection software, the machine shouldn’t worry about itself at all.

 

When it had accessed a prototype B9 Police droid on Station Delta 4 a few years before it had also downloaded all of it‘s defense and offense protocols. That had caused the addition of a stun rod, a Corellian S class rifle with frangible bullets, and a roll of restraint tape. On this mission, it had decided that it could watch the ship for her, and she had agreed more to shut it up than anything else.

 

The Dug was wrapped like a fly in a spider’s web, and was hanging by a thread of restraint tape from an overhead beam. He glared at her.

 

“That thing threatened me!” He squealed.

 

“It did?” She looked at A4. The two front legs of the droid had come up at sharp angles in front of it, and the pedipalps which were actually tool using extensions were clicking together. She should have never told the damn thing about real spiders. It must have downloaded everything in the memory banks about them. The legs and pedipalp movements were right out of a Hook-spider threat reaction. For something big enough to eat you if it were alive, it did look dangerous.

 

“Maybe it felt you didn’t belong?” She asked. “Well, before I toss you out of the airlock, have you any last words?”

 

“No!” It shivered, looking past her at the droid.

 

“Why not? Obviously you came aboard to steal my ship. Where I come from that is a death sentence offense.” She pretended to consider. “However if you told me who sent you and why?”

 

“No one send.“ He answered. “Cariali’s would buy if I could get it.”

 

Ah. She left the compartment, coming back with a pot of tea and a chair. She poured, leaning back against the bulkhead. “Then tell me everything you know about Cariali’s business here.” She nodded toward A4. “He has a lie detector built in. The first lie, I warn you, the second?” She jerked a thumb toward the hatchway “You learn to breath vacuum.”

[Char Ell]

Good reading, as always.

 

Interesting to see where you're going with A4. Sounds like the droid has become even more beneficial to have around than it was in Republic Dawn.

[Hallucination]

Does anyone else hear Marvin the Paranoid Android's voice when reading A4's lines?

[machievelli]

Good reading, as always.

 

Interesting to see where you're going with A4. Sounds like the droid has become even more beneficial to have around than it was in Republic Dawn.

 

We are still in Republic Dawn. This next segment is going to end with the Jedi calling a conference of the GTA and unaligned planets suggesting the formation.

 

In the two segments ,part one and 2, you will notice a lot of the problems were political. It wasn't until the Jedi discovered the gas was being manufactured that everyone started pulling together. In this one there's going to be problems because action is occurring in unaligned space systems. When the Jedi decide to act, they are going to be berated because GTA has no authority, and none of the core planets do either.

 

As for A4, I needed a computer that could talk and do a lot of analysis on his own. But as I said in another story, I can;t see having a character I'm not willing to use. Such problems as I had described do happen. I had my computer hung up with no memory for almost a year because a program that saved an emergency back up used almost six gigs of memory just for one file.

 

Does anyone else hear Marvin the Paranoid Android's voice when reading A4's lines?

 

If you do, don't be surprised. I was picturing either MArvin or Droopy Dog when I write his dialogue.

[machievelli]

Preparation

 

Master Hontu came out of hyper, and approached the station. Sienna was on watch, hands on the controls. “This is Freighter Coruscant Glory on approach.” She reported.

 

“Coruscant Glory do you have cargo for this station?“

 

“Negative. We are just stopping to load additional stores. and some R&R.“

 

“Very good, Coruscant Glory. You are cleared for bay 40. Welcome to station Kroomerik.”

 

“Thank you Kroomerik. Coruscant Glory clear.” She tapped the annunciator, and the pilot came forward. “Be ready.” She warned.

 

Aft Master Hobart and the assault team leaders were gathered around the mess table, looking at the hologram. It showed the station as a series of decks, rotating. One dot blinked red. “All right, the Raptor is here. So far we have no reports that it is getting ready to leave. The limpet transmitter has the ship as inactive.” The hologram jumped in, showing the same type of view of the ship.

 

“The crew of a Raptor is sixty men. No launch bays, but there are two cargo bays large enough to stash the fighters in.” Sienna looked at the hologram. “Probably they came here to on load some new fighters?”

 

“Perhaps. But from where?” Padawan Solon asked, his Lekku weaving slightly. “For that matter where did they find the funding? This outfit makes no sense to me.”

 

There was a grunt of agreement. Most pirates merely took merchant vessels and had extra weapons installed. The Jedi had broken up a ring of such pirates just two years before. But even the most paranoid merchant captain tended to spend the money on weapons rather than fighters. At over 10 thousand credits each, they were a great defense, but too expensive. Only the larger lines had tried it before now.

 

Even as old as it was, the ship was still formidable. Fast enough to chase down most modern freighters, though slower than the newer light ones. Her weapons and systems could easily be upgraded.

 

But only a madman would use a warship as a pirate. You couldn’t sidle up to a station pretending to be a merchant, and loading up on fighter missiles and large amounts of chain gun ammunition through a civilian outlet rather than a base of your navy would be a give away. It was actually less expensive to arm a merchant ship than it was to rip the weapons out of even the smallest warship. Even then why pay for something with almost no cargo space?

 

Ships the size of a Raptor rarely ended up on the open market unless you consider transferring them from one planetary government fleet to another. New they cost just under a million credits each. The only other possible buyer would be a corporation. Only corporations had the wherewithal to buy them at a quarter million credits each. But that begged the question of why a corporate vessel would be here. According to their records of Wayfarer Corporation, the owners of the station, hadn’t bought any ships of that design. They had bought Coruscanti Swift Class corvettes. In fact only three of the smaller Colonial navies used Raptors right now. None had been reported missing.

 

Besides, sale of castoff warships was tightly regulated. No one had found a way around those safeguards. Until now.

 

“How many of this class were built?” Hobart asked.

 

“Sixty-four.” Padawan Learner Coroy replied. An Arkanian, he was the resident expert on military ordinance. “All but seven are still in service. Nineteen serve in the Arkanian Navy, twenty serve in the Alderaani Customs and patrol service. Ten, all under Corporate flags are assigned to the Ando blockade squadron, the last eight make up the entire Lortuai home fleet.”

 

“What happened to the seven no longer in service?” Sienna asked, staring at the bulkhead with a curious expression.

 

“One was lost at the battle of Sullust about 30 years ago. One was rammed by a liner and scrapped. One was expended as target by the Corellian navy, four decommissioned and scrapped.”

 

“Are we sure they were actually scrapped?” She pressed.

 

“According to records, yes.” Coroy said.

 

“My family is always leery of the breaker’s yard.” She said. As the youngest daughter of Admiral Mara Dodonna, granddaughter of retired Fleet Admiral Freido Dodonna, with more officers in her family than any other family on Corellia could claim, she was the expert in this. “The only thing worse in their minds are the suppliers. You see, If they merely slag it down all they get is the scrap metal price. About 500 credits a ton. But if they strip it out, they get a lot more for the separate systems. The computers are easy to wipe and reuse, commo gear and control molycircs, all worth more as units rather than being recycled. A colony just starting would be well off if they could score some of that.” She considered. “The only thing they couldn’t just put on market is the weapons. There are four chain gun turrets four launch tubes. Worth a pretty good amount. But they have to sell them back to the navy, or to someone the navy has authorized to purchase them.

 

“Every BuShips’ officer’s nightmare is that a ship will slide through the yards without being scrapped out. The ship may be almost 50 years old, but that doesn’t make them worthless for their designed function. A pirate could take over an out of the way colony with that much firepower.” She nodded. “I’m just trying to think who I should contact? Papa or Mama.” Her father was the Judge Advocate General of the fleet, her Mother in charge of design and construction for BuShips.

 

“Let’s either find out which ship it is, or capture it first.” Hobart demurred. “No reason to get Corellia all upset until we do.” He nibbled on his lip pensively.

 

“There’s another problem.” Solon said. “I asked for a download of the Station laws. I wanted to be sure our warrant from Corellia was valid.” He looked up. “It is not.”

 

“What?” Hobart looked as if he’d been told gravity didn’t exist.

 

“The Station legal preamble begins with ‘Local legal situations are covered in Corporate regulations. All other laws superceded‘.” He turned the pad, and let them read it. Hobart flipped down several pages. “ Listen to this. ‘All claims by planets regarding the seizure of a ship or crew for crimes committed outside Corporate jurisdiction must be first cleared through the Station Constabulary office, and local justice before action. All such requests and the hearings for service of such warrants must be publicly delivered. No warrants maybe served, or action taken for them, until the hearing has been held‘.”

 

Sienna's head bent. She was the legal expert. “Which means that all I would have to do as captain of that bloody Raptor is have a man in either the Constabulary or the Justice’s office. As soon as they know such a warrant has been filed, they can bolt away, leaving us sitting while the hearing drags on.” She looked at him. “Or we could send a message torpedo. Have a Corellian frigate pop up to take possession.”

 

Hobart, who had been paging down shook his head. “The Corporation has assigned two Swifts here, Rapid and Surprise. Both in are in their docking bays. If a Corellian Frigate were to arrive, according to these regulations, the Corporation has permission to order the ship out of the system if they will not obey Corporate regulations. Let’s see, yes, as I thought; ‘Any attempt to either force ships to remain on the station, or stop other ships from using the station will be considered an illegal blockade; an act of war under Interstellar law, by the planet owning the vessel. Any attempts by such vessels to remain after being ordered to depart can be dealt with as the Manager and/or Captains of such defensive vessels see fit’.” He looked at his strike team.

 

“We must either obey the letter of this regulation, or we have to convince them to leave the station and go somewhere we can take them.”

 

“But they would know we must have followed them if we suddenly ask for their arrest here!” Coroy retorted. “The limpet transmitter may have LPI capability, but if they know we followed them, they will find it.” The Low Probability of Intercept communications gear was still considered top secret by the Corellian navy. They had been allowed to use it only because Sienna had asked her parents.

 

“If they think they’re caught, they’ll self destruct.” Sienna pushed. “We haven’t gotten more than serial numbers off the fighters so far. To break this, we need to capture it. Facing them here, we’ll have a chance. But an aware Escort trying to escape will hand us our heads. We have to take her here or let her go. We don’t have another option I can see.”

 

Hobart brought up the information on the ship again. “Sixty man crew. All together we’re outnumbered by about four to one.” He commented. “We can win, but they will self destruct and we can't risk the station and it‘s personnel. We can wait until they pull out-”

 

“I have another idea.” Sienna said. “We take them down while still here, and deliver ship and all back to Corellia.”

 

“And how do we do that?” Coroy asked.

 

“I just walk aboard, trip the intruder/mutiny system, and we fly her out.”

 

“Can’t be done.” Solon said. “My men don’t know where the intruder systems are on that ship!”

 

“I do. Mama commanded one of the last ones built, and I... accidentally activated it one Fleet Week when I was four.”

 

“Accidentally.” Hobart’s comment wasn’t a question.

 

She grinned. “I saw this big red button on the command chair, and pushed it. Next thing I know every blast door was sealed, and everyone is getting hit with puke-gas. I might have gotten off on it but when we were in the engine room, I saw another emergency button and hit it too!” She shook her head. “Boy did I get a spanking for that!”

 

They chuckled. “What if they have something a little more lethal than that?” Solon asked.

 

“I think if someone had run off with half a ton of CN20 nerve gas, that would have set off alarms.” She retorted.

 

“Lay out your plan, for us.” Hobart ordered. She began with getting aboard, walked through what she intended to do, and ended with lifting off. Each of the others gave suggestions, and she incorporated some of them into the plan. But she was adamant that she had to go alone.

 

“One mere slip of a girl who is space crazy getting aboard might be taken for a lark.” She warned. “But two or even three would look too suspicious.”

 

“I would rather someone else do this.” Hobart commented when she had finished.

 

“No one of our people on the station or aboard ship looks as helpless as I do.“ She replied. “Besides, have I ever been wrong before?”

 

“No, but there is always a first time.”

 

“If you honestly think I can’t handle it master-”

 

“Will you stop fishing for compliments?” He asked plaintively. “All right. When do you want to do it?”

 

“I was hoping to borrow Padawan Solo’s A4. After I have talked to her, I can set a specific time.”

[Char Ell]

So. Set off the mutiny/intruder system and gas any crew that is aboard? I hope Sienna has a gas mask or utilizes the Jedi-ability to hold her breath for a long time. If you haven't guessed I'm not clear on how the plan will work but I'm sure you will clear things up for me in the next chapter. Please don't interpret this as I don't like the story or anything along those lines. Republic Dawn is still great reading.

[machievelli]

I had considered that, CM. But there's more here than meets the eye...

[machievelli]

The operational report

 

Breia was just closing the ramp when a sweet honey voice asked in a breathless tone. “Oh! Is that a Shadow?”

 

She turned. Sienna Dodonna stood there. She was dressed in her best outfit, at least for this assignment. It was a snug fitting vermilion top with two diamond shaped cut outs. One started at her shoulders, running down to about ten millimeters below her breasts, the other started there, running down to connect at her hips showing an expanse of well toned flesh. There was no reason for the full sleeves she could see except to accentuate what was exposed. The bottom was so small she looked as if she had merely forgotten to put on her clothes, going about in her foundation garments.

 

To give lip service to propriety, a cinnamon red skirt of smoke-cloth ran to her ankles. But since smoke cloth as the name implies, is almost transparent, it only obscured the knee-high boots she wore.

 

Breia grunted. “Of course it’s a Shadow.”

 

“Could I see... Inside it?” She asked. If you went by her face and that voice, you’d think she didn’t have two brain cells in that blonde head.

 

Breia gave a much put upon sigh, and opened the ramp again, motioning the girl up it with an exasperated grimace. Sienna didn’t walk up the ramp, she strutted. Any man watching her from the back would have been captivated by the walk. Only Breia caught the slight wink. She sighed again, looked at her chrono as if to say I don’t have time for this and followed.

 

“Greetings, Padawan teacher.” Sienna dropped the act the instant the ramp came back up. Now she merely looked like an intense woman with odd taste in proper apparel.

 

“You know that is really quite good. The vacant expression suits you.”

 

“Sorry.” Sienna was not in the least apologetic. “When you look like a working man’s dream of a blonde air-headed bimbo, it helps to pretend.” She held out a chip. “If I can borrow your A4, we’ve already got a plan to take the Raptor."

 

“Hobart does know we can’t legally.” Breia stated.

 

“Yes. We’ve decided that perhaps an act of piracy is called for.”

 

Breia considered, then nodded. “I can see why that is an option. But what about the Cariali warehouse?”

 

“What?”

 

Breia waved her over to the mess table. “A4, play the recordings.”

 

The droid marched over, and a holo of a case appeared. Then the camera angle split into ten different pictures. Before asked, it began bringing them up as full screens when they passed something of importance. “The crate was picked up yesterday, delivered to the bonded warehouse, then accepted by the local Cariali factor. He had it sent to his own storage warehouse. If you will notice-” Two of the screens blew up to almost full size.

 

Sienna leaned forward intently. ‘Those crates. They look like... Corellian arms cases.”

 

“Correct.” The cameras zoomed in. The barcodes were scanned, and a third screen flashed up.

 

“Merr Sohn Type 7s.” Breia commented. “In that one Type 14B fighter missiles. They can be fitted to just about any fighter Corellia ever built with a little adjustment. Keep going.”

 

The screens showed a mass of weapons that should never have left a Military arsenal. Missiles both ship to ship and fighter launched. hand weapons from pistols to tripod mounted cannon. While a lot was Corellian the rest were Coruscanti and Twi-lek.

 

The crate was dropped off, and the small bugs deployed their miniature tilt rotor wings, and split up. One landed on a computer console, cutting a tiny hole to climb inside. It found a data port, and melted a connection onto the fiber optic lead.

 

“I ran the programs aboard. The inventory is extensive. Including these.” Eight Bat class Coruscanti fighters.

 

Sienna hissed. “Those haven’t even entered squadron service!”

 

“Well I know it.” Breia motioned to the teapot, and Sienna nodded. She took the cup, sipping. Her eyes bulged. “My gods! Echani fire spice!”

 

“Yes. I enjoy it.”

 

“I can’t even drink it aboard the ship!” Sienna sipped, sighing. “Master Hobart was injured a year ago, right before I became his apprentice. His stomach can’t stand it any more, even though he likes it. So I won’t drink in around him out of sympathy.” She sipped, looking pensively at the screens. “So a corporate chain is also part of this?”

 

“Maybe. It might be they were supplying illegal weapons before, and we didn’t notice it until we checked their operations here.”

 

Sienna shook her head. “Too many similarities between the operations for that to be likely. Both with access to either restricted equipment or high end modern ordinance. Can there really be two operations this well connected and this secret?”

 

“Stranger things have happened.” Breia warned. “So how does this affect your plan for the Raptor?”

 

“We have no choice.” Sienna said softly. “As bad as this is, we can’t let that ship leave and continue slaughtering people.” She shook herself. “Perhaps you can handle the Cariali situation on your own.”

 

“I think not.” Breia retorted. “This is too big, and goes too deep.” She considered. “The cargo they have consigned to my ship is due later today. Perhaps I can deliver it, and find out more.”

 

Sienna nodded. “I will inform Master Hobart. Then, I think I will meet the other Padawan. Where will you all be?”

 

“The Stars end Cantina.”

 

“I will see you all there later this evening. I have other ships to look at.” She put on that brainless look again. “Did you know there’s a Twi-lek Soorbino on the station?” She gushed.

 

“Spare me.” Breia snapped. then they both began laughing.

 

*****

The cargo arrived, and Breia noted the contents as it was loaded aboard. The crew that did the loading were the usual disreputable types you might have expected. She thumb-printed the invoice after checking the cubage, then went aboard, sealing the ramp.

 

“A4, what did we just accept?”

 

“Only one crate is alarming.” The droid flashed up the barcode.

 

Breia looked, her mind tried to scan the code, but it didn’t register. “841 prefix, I haven’t seen it before.”

 

“I have.” A4 replied laconically. “That is a bioweapon prefix.”

 

“Any idea what?”

 

“Iridian plague.” She glared at the droid. “The Corellian military did studies about ten years ago of converting the plague into an easily spread form. They abandoned the tests. There was no cure for the variety they created.”

 

Breia cursed. “This changes things.”

 

“On the contrary, Padawan, it helps.” A4 drawled. On the screen, a series of crates were earmarked to be loaded. She saw her own face, and ship, then the destination.

 

“Ando?” Breia asked.

 

“The home of a race named the Aqualish.” A4 reported. “To be delivered not ot the planet, but to the fleet blockading it. Your cargo includes the weapon you are both speaking of.”

 

“So we deliver a deadly...” She froze. “Come quick!”

 

She raced back, reaching with that skill she had used on Delta station.

 

There was no timer. Instead a sensor that would have detected two hyper transits, one entering, and one leaving had been attached to the tank. If she had left the station, it would have automatically activated. She ran her hands over the seals. Simple customs seals. Since they didn’t have to be unloaded until delivery... She drew out a small knife. Made by a Jedi smith, it sheared through the customs seals. Then she stopped, running her hands over the crate looking just a little deeper...

 

Light sensitive diode right there. Any light at all would set off an explosive charge destroying the case and the one opening it. Not to mention killing everyone aboard with the plague. “A4, get the lights.”

 

The lights went off, but there was still a spill from the passageway. “Close the hatch as well.”

 

Suddenly it was pitch black. She pulled the top off of the box, running her hand blindly along the wires leading from it to the explosive charge, her Jedi senses identifying what her fingers touched. Five wires. This leads to the auto-release. Cut it and the bug is released in here. This one leads to... Ah, a trap wire. Cut it and the charge gets a shock from the capacitor on the other end. This one, leads no where. This one has a trickle charge. cut it and the capacitor flashes. This one. She started reaching down, then stopped. She stepped to the other end of the box. Only three wires led to it, the primary, the booby trap, and another one running to another booby trap. She instead cut the capacitor loose, dropping it on the deck. Then she went forward, removing the light sensitive diode. She was holding it up when suddenly the bay was brightly lit.

 

She cursed, spinning to face the hatch. Meeri looked at her confused.

“If you had been three seconds earlier...” Her hands began to shake. So close...

 

Meeri looked at the device then Breia’s hands, and walked over slipping the blade out of her hand. “Perhaps it would be better for me to work, and you direct me. At least until your shaking subsides.”

 

Breia gave a barkr of laughter. A panic reaction. “Yes. An excellent idea.”

 

They worked together for almost half an hour. When every timer, activator, explosive and booby trap had been removed, they went into the mess hall. Meeri silently poured her a Corellian Red, pouring another for herself.

 

“Wait a minute. I thought you got drunk on Sugar water!”

 

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Meeri asked with such an innocent expression that Breia had to laugh.

 

“From you, you misshapen lump!”

 

“Oh that.” Meeri waved a hand. “When we first met your people, some of them tried to get us drunk. But our tolerance for alcohol is very high. An Ithorian merely gets more calm when we drink. About five times what a human could drink. When we get what you would call drunk, we just fall asleep.” She chugged the brew, and opened another. “So when we figured out what the people were trying to do, get us drunk so they could get us to sign deals, that kind of thing, we let one of them see one of our people chugging sugar water, then acting how humans act when drunk.

 

“It helps to know it, because if someone buys us a drink and we taste it, we know immediately how honest they are. If they asked us of course, we accept it to be polite.”

 

“And what effect does sugar water actually have on you?”

 

“Actually it give us the runs.” Meeri waved. “But it is worth it to get some deals signed that we needed.”

 

Breia looked at her hand. It was still trembling. “I drink, if you notice, to be polite, companionable, and...” She lifted her hand, watching it shimmy. “When I am scared out of my tiny little mind.”

 

“Considering what is in that crate...” Breia shivered. All that medical science could do for the Iridian plague was either preventive, or palliative. If it was known to be in a population, you immediately dosed everyone who wasn’t showing frank symptoms and hope for the best. If they did show symptoms, you tried to keep them alive. With no medial assistance, there was a 100% fatality rate. With it, the death toll was only 85%. But once it was released, no one in their right mind-

 

Not to the planet, but to the fleet blockading it.

 

Iridian plague had a long incubation period. It took as much as a month for frank symptoms to occur, but it was already infectious by inhalation less than a week after infection. The ships communicated by radio of course, but they had weekly meetings of the commanders...

 

And a week after I deliver this, they are all infected. Three weeks later, so are all of the ships that delivered supplies. So are the ports of the planets they came from.

 

Once it broke out, each of those planets would go under full quarantine, along with the stations that served them How far would it go before someone fell ill and they noticed? The entire core, hell, every system a ship serviced could be infected!

 

Meanwhile no one can spare the energy to help the fleet. They die. No one is watching the Aqualish... This is bad.[/i]

 

“We’ll have to go to the Cantina We have to make sure the others know.”

 

“Can I avoid going to jail again?” Meeri asked plaintively. “Have you ever had the runs in a cell with two other people?”

 

“I try to avoid being in jail, myself.” Breia replied calmly. “Maybe you should follow my sterling example.”

 

Meeri’s answer was subvocal.

[Char Ell]

Very interesting. As you said, developments have forced the Jedi to alter their initial plans. Well, at least I think they've been altered anyway. If the opposition has access to such advanced weaponry as well as highly effective bio-weapons, one should absolutely take those factors into account when forming a plan to neutralize one's enemy.

 

I always enjoy the high level of technical detail you employ in your writing. I don't always understand it, depending on the type of issue, but I appreciate the effort taken to give the story that added level of realism.

[machievelli]

 

I always enjoy the high level of technical detail you employ in your writing. I don't always understand it, depending on the type of issue, but I appreciate the effort taken to give the story that added level of realism.

 

CM, As an old writer said 'I write for me'. Meaning the first reader who has to enjoy it and not lose his suspension of disbelief is me. I am what my wife and my old friends at fair would call a research slut. I spent two weeks researching chemical weapons in High school for an 8 page report. I only got a C+ because he didn't like my argument on the morality of them;

(If someone has them, a general on that side has already decided how to use them. Just give him the chance.)

 

I read Everything except romances and westerns and I retain a lot of it. So when I write something like that disarming sequence, I reach into that part of my mind that remembers EOD (Explosive Ordinance Detail) and built the nastiest bomb I could imaging disarming. I even drew a small line mock-up of it.

 

Oh yeah, when I used to DM in D&D? They feared my traps more than anything else.

[machievelli]

Cutting out operation

 

Breia and Meeri entered the Stars end. For a moment the noise ebbed, then picked back up again. A Toydarian near the bar saw them and ducked for cover. A party of Dugs also at the bar suddenly decided they wanted a booth. Preferably a distance from the hulking Ithorian.

 

“You seem to have made a lasting impression.” Breia whispered leading the way.” She reached the bar, tapping a coin on it. “Two Corellian Reds.”

 

The bartender relaxed, and pulled the brews, passing them across. Breia leaned nonchalantly against the bar, sipping. “It looks like we’re here first.”

 

“No.“ Meeri sipped. “Left hand corner table.”

 

Sienna was already here. If the outfit she had worn earlier was rather risqué, this one bordered on sultry. The red was gone. Instead she wore a sheath of blue spider-silk that hugged her so tightly she might as well not have bothered. Breia looked away.

 

“She reminds me of someone.”

 

“Her grandfather is Admiral Dodonna.”

 

“No.” Breia tapped her fingers against her head. “It’s how my mother used to dress. Back before I was born.”

 

“Your mother was a professional pleasure girl?”

 

Breia glared at her. “No. She works for Corellian Intelligence. She used to dress that way...” Breia looked at the girl with a new respect. “To distract people while she worked.”

 

“Are you’re sure you’re not related?”

 

Before Breia could answer she saw Samsun stroll in behind him on a leash came Yodai. Breia lifted her glass quickly, pretending to drink to cover the fact that she wanted to roar with laughter. Proper prim Yodai on a leash! Samsun unclipped the leash, roughly rubbing Yodai’s head. “Now behave this time.” He admonished. He moved to an empty table, waving at the bartender.

 

Yodai looked around owlishly, then scampered across the room, climbing Breia’s legs. She yelped as he hugged her around the waist.

 

“Don’t get too into the part, Yodai.” She whispered. She felt his fingers pluck the data chip from her belt, and the insertion of a fresh one.

 

“Him on a leash I will see.” Yodai grumbled. Then he climbed farther up, snatching nuts from a bowl. “Enjoying this too much he is.”

 

“Yodai!” The small being looked. Samsun was waving. Grumbling dire retribution under his breath, Yodai leaped down and ran over to climb the young Padawan, ‘accidentally’ digging in with his claws a little when he reached Samsun’s ribs.

 

Reyes arrived next, trailed by his Padawan Kriel. Kriel was a Twi-lek, his red lekku weaving slightly as they sensed the atmosphere. A female Twi-lek at the bar blushed furiously, turning away. But she kept glancing his way.

 

“Ah, young love.” Meeri said. “A pity we are not on the station for too much longer. That would be an interesting story to hear.”

 

Caroli came in. A few moments later, a young man with a shock of ginger hair came running in, joining her at the table. Breia had not yet met Padawan Learner Costi. He was new, having transferred from the Monastery on Ossus. He looked a bit uncomfortable with a blaster low-slung on his left hip.

 

Breia took out her pad, and slipped in the chip Yodai had delivered. They had also been commissioned to deliver some of the Cariali supplies. The crate had been expertly opened and sealed. Hand weapons and breather masks. She downloaded the information, then dropped the chip in her drink where it promptly dissolved.

 

“No change on Yodai’s end.” She whispered.

 

“Good changes enough just with us and Sienna.” Meeri murmured in reply. She held up her empty glass, and another round was delivered.

 

Yodai who had been pretending to be asleep dropped to the floor, scuttling toward Caroli. She cursed, setting him on the table, where Costi tried to tempt him with pretzels. Yodai deigned to accept for a moment, then at a cluck from Samsun, scurried back.

 

Breia finished her second ale, watching the byplay with interest. Unbeknownst to the patrons, the little Jedi was assuring that everyone was on the same page. He had carried Breia’s report to Samsun who had downloaded it for himself and a copy which was delivered to each. Reyes cursed when he attacked his bowl of nuts but didn’t strike at him, which would have been in character.

 

The final act was funny. A human in a shipsuit was across the way, trying to drink Sienna under the table. Not much chance of that. The Jedi training helped her to metabolize the alcohol faster than he might have considered possible. Yodai came gallumphing over, scurried up onto the table, and proceeded to attack the bowl of nuts there. The man cursed, waving a drunken hand at the small being, who squealed as if terrified, leaping to wrap his arms around Sienna’s neck.

 

“Oh how adorable!” She gushed, hugging and petting him. Yodai didn’t move away quickly. If anything he seemed to settle in closer, eyes still on the drunk. Sienna asked the annunciator at her table a question, and a bowl of milk arrived. Breia turned rapidly, coughing to hide even more laughter. She knew how Yodai felt about milk! Yet he got down and lifted the bowl draining it.

 

A few moments later he ran back to Samsun. The Padawan slipped the ship into his reader, made a few notes. Then he lowered the pad to the table. Under the cover of draining his mug, he popped out four chips, setting them aside. Then he stood, walking toward the bar. Behind him, Yodai had swept up the chips, and delivered them to each in turn.

 

“You again.” Reyes snarled at Meeri. “Staying off the sugar water tonight?”

 

“As I have instructed her.” Breia snapped. Reyes turned toward her, eyes cold. “It’s thanks to her I spent last night in jail instead of enjoying myself.” He poked her hard in the chest with a finger. As he did the chip fell into Breia’s waiting hand. “I have to be in the Ando system in three days, and I will not be detained again. So keep her away from me!”

 

He spun, storming out.

 

“I don’t think he likes you.” Breia said.

 

“I don’t like him either.” Meeri finished the ale. “Shall we get back aboard?”

 

They left just as Sienna was waxing lyrical about how adorable Yodai was again.

*****

 

Breia poured the tea, and flipped on the pad as soon as they were back aboard. “Each of us were asked to carry cargo. by Cariali. Reyes and Yodai are carrying about ninety cubic feet each. Caroli has about twenty-five and...“ She laughed. “The same box we unloaded on Cariali. No major changes. Sienna thinks she will need at least people to help, and that is... Yodai and I.” She leaned back, sipping. She suddenly saw herself in Sienna’s idea of proper clothes, and choked.

 

“What are we going to do about our guest?” Meeri waved toward the cargo bay where the Dug that had tried to hotwire the ship still hung.

 

“We’ll dump him loaded to the gills in the morning.” Breia said. “Unless you have another idea?”

 

“He gave us a lot of information. Perhaps if we convince him of who we really are, he’ll get... nervous and ask for sanctuary?”

 

“You are always so... forceful.” Breia replied. She reached into a cabinet, drawing out her sword. “Shall we practice in front of him you think?”

 

“In front of and around.” Meeri replied. She drew out her own blades.

 

Together they walked back to the cargo bay. The Dug froze as he saw the sheathed weapons they carried. He had been digging at the plastic that bound him, but it was rated at 40 tons per inch and required special tools to cut.

 

Meeri lowered him, then moved him to the center of the bay, hanging about chest height for Breia, meaning even with Meeri’s shoulders. They set the weapons aside, drawing out practice weapons instead. Meeri used twin blades, and Breia matched her with her long pommeled single. They faced each other, saluting with the blades.

 

“What are you-” The Dug yelped, trying to pull his head in as three blades flashed. Meeri was abysmal on the attack. She had her race’s reticence about fighting. But on the defense she was a master. In the first actual fight they had ever been in, seven men had attacked them armed with swords. Breia had dealt with three of them easily, then turned to find that Meeri had not only defended herself brilliantly, but had kept the other three busy with a dazzling array of parries. The one man that had been killed before Breia joined her she admitted had been killed by one of his fellows. The practice drill had been ingrained into both of them since childhood. The Dug was merely a small space they didn’t allow their blades to enter.

 

To the Dug it was a flashing nightmare of steel and sudden death whipping past his head. The pair were silent, focusing on what they were about. If anything the speed increased, and he realized that no normal human could have kept it up.

Suddenly he fell. One cut had sliced through the spider-web that had held him up. He landed on his head with a squawk, and rolled into a fetal position.

 

There was silence, and he opened his eyes. A blade flashed less than a centimeter from his muzzle. Not the practice blade, but the wavy-edged sword of a Jedi.

 

“You thought you could steal a Jedi ship?” Breia asked. She turned her wrist side to side, a flash of light passing back and forth across the pupils of the Dug’s eyes. “You know that is defined as piracy.” She knelt, the blade not moving. “I could turn you over to the local authorities.” She felt his mood brighten. “Or space you when I leave. I don’t really trust the local constabulary. Is there a reason I should?”

 

“Didn’t know you were Jedi.” The Dug grunted. “Mistake.”

 

“A very stupid mistake.“ Breia agreed. “A last one. Of course I could help you by telling the Constabulary how very helpful you have been in our investigations here. Knowing you are really a fine upstanding citizen will make your life so much more pleasant.”

 

The Dug paled. Sure, it would make his life more pleasant. Until it ended rather abruptly, painfully, and probably not quickly knowing his luck. “Maybe we can talk?” He asked plaintively.

 

“Why? I got all I wanted to know from you. The local Cariali broker is paying people to hijack any armed vessel they can.”

 

“But where they taking them?” He asked, a glint in his eyes. “What they use them for?”

 

“You wouldn’t have been told that.”

 

“Not told.” He admitted. “But if you listen, you learn things, yes? Been working a long time. Know everything about a lot of things in different places. Learned this by being quiet. Unobtrusive.”

 

“So talk to me.” Meeri activated the recorder, and they listened as the Dug talked for almost an hour.

 

“So they have taken over this planet Thule. Why has no one noticed?”

 

“People who run communications same people. Company helped them.”

 

“Why?” Meeri asked.

 

“Deniability. Evil done, people die, war begins. When discovered, Company throws up hands in horror. ‘Evil men steal from us! Do all this! Shocking‘!” He shrug. “Know more about a lot of places yet.” He repeated.

 

“There is probably more, but we don’t have the time now.” Breia looked at the Dug. “Once we’ve left the station, we will take you to Corellia. I think Corellian intelligence will want to have long discussions with you. When they’re done, I will forgive your little transgression. But I won‘t forget it.”

 

There was a bleep from the annunciator. “Padawan, we have a visitor.” A4 reported.

 

Breia sheathed her weapon. “Local or one of ours?”

 

“A local delivery man from the Promenade. He is carrying what looks like a box from Kimberly's.”

 

Breia and Meeri shared a look. Kimberly's was a Corellian clothiers. The place where Senators went to buy their mistresses clothes that would get them arrested if the wore it in public.

 

The man looked like he might be the manager of the store. He was almost jumping up and down with excitement when she lowered the ramp. “Miss Magulagi? I am Justo Forek of Kimberly’s. A miss Dorino bought a dress to be delivered to you.” He held it out. “The message reads, ‘in thanks for your hospitality earlier today.”

 

Breia took the box carefully. “It’s Captain Magulagi.” She looked at the box. “Who is this... Dorino woman?”

 

“She said you might not recognize the name.” He replied. “She is the scion of a noble house on Corellia, travelling while on vacation from her school. She saw your ship and you gave her a tour this morning.”

 

“Oh, her.” Breia looked uncomfortable. “I’ll have to thank her.”

 

“No need, no need.” He said. “The instructions are in the box with the clothing. I hope you consider us for future purchases.” The last statement was given only pro forma. He had obviously figured that the captain of an old Courier couldn’t possibly afford something else from his shop.

 

Breia watched him go, then whispered. “Instructions? How hard is it to put on a dress?” She went up the ramp, closing the hatch again. Meeri was in the mess hall when she arrived, and she opened the box. “Oh she has got to be- Meeri! Laughing about this is not- Oh I am going to kill her!”

 

*****

 

It was a sight that attracted very male eye. Two women, one with raven black hair, the other blonde. The blonde was carrying some kind of animal that clung to her, risking exposure of her assets when it swung aside to try to grab at things they passed. The other followed by a large spider like droid. But if anyone had asked, they wouldn’t have noticed the droid. The animal at least was trying to do what every man that saw them dreamed or. Unwrapping one of them like a kid at his birthday party.

 

Their clothes drew the eyes. The dresses were the same in every way but color. A top made of a mass of straps that obviously took some effort to put on, and probably as much to take off with long sleeves mandarin collars, a gap in the cloth that exposed smooth stomachs and attached to hip hugging briefs above thigh high boots. The Blonde was in a deep burgundy that set off her pale skin, the dark haired one in a lime green that made her eyes seem even more green then they were.

 

Either one would have been worth the attention, but together they should have been charged with incitement to riot.

 

“I am going to kill you.” Breia growled for perhaps the tenth time since they had begun the approach. “I am going to feed you to a Landrian sand shark. I’m going to find something nasty to have you for dinner.”

 

“Well we could start with my Uncle Peri if we want nasty things to have you for dinner. The only reason I am safe is because he knows I’m his niece. Though if I were one generation farther away all bets would be off.” Sienna said. “Smile, girl! You’re beautiful, in an outfit that cost more than most of these people have made in a year-”

 

“With every man knowing exactly my bust size, the size of my nipples and whether I sunbath in the nude.” Breia snapped back. “Back home my dad would have fits!”

 

“Ah Darshan Solo is so repressed isn’t he.” Sienna replied gaily. “But your mother Holani...”

 

“What about my mother?”

 

Sienna looked around, then leaned forward, her finger motioning toward a group admirers that immediately began straightening. The portrait of a cute girl whispering a secret to her friend. “Well the last time I saw your mother at a state occasion, she was dressed in something that would have embarrassed me!” She shook her head, meeting Breia’s fulminating gaze. “All I have to say about your mother is that at sixty or so she is still an exceedingly attractive woman. She had the Bothan Ambassador eating out of her hand!”

 

“Sixty-two.” Breia bit out. “And yes she is still attractive.” Hating the girl was as useful as trying to bottle the wind. Considering how to gain revenge however...

 

“Come on. Look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Sienna whispered. “Think happy thoughts!”

 

Breia pictured her head down in a vat of Chocolate ice cream. Those smooth toned legs kicking futilely as she drowned...

 

“That’s more like it.”

 

They passed docking bay 17 where Hawk Flight was preparing to launch. Meeri had her instructions. Then ahead of them was bay 19. Sienna turned in, Breia pacing her.

 

Up close the Escort was huge. At least ten times the mass of her own ship. Almost as big as the Master Hontu. Sienna cooed as if she thought she could stroke the ship, and have it roll over like a pet. “Oh, isn’t this a Raptor?” She gushed. She strode toward the hatch. It was open, and a grungy little human looked up at their approach. He stiffened, then was frantically wiping his hands and trying to get his hair to lay down.

 

“Oh I’ve never seen the inside of a Raptor before!” If anything her brainless act was even better than before. “May I please look around?” She put on a plaintive expression. Men who saw that look outside a jewelry store would have been getting out their charge cards before the first coo had died.

 

The man growled inwardly. The captain would skin him if he let a couple of bints on the ship. “We’re getting ready to depart, unfortunately.”

 

“Oh that’s good!” Sienna gushed, then she leaned forward. “You intended to take us with you.”

 

The man’s eyes glazed. “Yeah, we’ve been waiting for you.” He said.

 

“Any you have just the place for us to hide.” Sienna said. “Just forward of engineering.”

 

“There’s a cabinet just forward of engineering you can hide in.”

 

“So what are we waiting for?”

 

“Let’s hurry. What are you waiting for?” He asked.

 

“But we have to get there without passing a security camera, don’t we.”

 

“Yeah, no cameras.” He turned, walking aft with the women and droid following.

 

“That’s a pretty neat trick.” Breia whispered. “How does it work?”

 

“How does the ripping droid’s arms off work?” Sienna asked in the same tone.

 

“When we have time I will show you. If...”

 

“I teach you how to control the weak minded?” Sienna grinned. “If it’s a man they are all weak, honey.”

 

The cabinet was large enough for all of them to hide in. The guard went back to his station. There was a hooting, then a voice spoke.

 

“Devaronian.” Breia identified the language. “Most of those we have gotten dead were Devaronian.”

 

“Yes. I wonder why?” Sienna asked.

 

“Someone forcing them they are.” Yodai had dropped his act as well. “The most peaceful race they are not. But wanton slaughter not their way.”

 

The ship shuddered, and Breia mentally pictured it lifting off from the pad, sliding out into space. The engines went to a smooth roar, and Breia said. “Now.”

 

They came out of the cabinet, moving swiftly aft. The hatch opened, and Breia took one step, and a tanned firm leg shot out kicking the Devaronian that spun at their approach in the crotch. As he whimpered dropping to his knees she punched him in the neck even with the fourth vertebrae, dropping him like a stunned Nerf.

 

Yodai leaped from Sienna’s arms, racing to a console. He checked the readout. “Good thing our own gas we brought.” He muttered. “Nerve gas they did use!”

 

A4 trundled over, panels opening for and aft. Breia snatched out the bundle of swords as Yodai opened a high pressure air line. A4 thrust out a nozzle, and Yodai pushed the bayonet fitting into it.

 

The tank inside the stomach of the droid vented as they slipped air breathers into their mouths, clipping the nostril plugs then Breia handed the others their weapons. She stayed in position as the other two charged forward.

 

“Go help them.” Breia ordered. A4 finished venting the tank, sealing up it’s carapace again, then took off down the passageway. As it came to people that had been disabled by the gas, it wrapped each in meters of plastic, setting them out of the way as it continued on.

 

*****

 

The bridge hatch opened, and Sienna was in like an exploding bomb. The only compartments not covered by the mutiny system were the bridge, engineering and the armory, though each could be added by the flick of a switch. The problem was, that the gas was fast acting, but not instantaneous. That meant anyone on the bridge would have at least ten seconds before they fell over. Long enough to blow the ship up.

 

Sienna leaped across the expanse, her sword punching into and through the console the Captain was trying to access. Then she whipped the sword aside, slashing the back of the right wrist only deep enough to bleed. “No escape for you, my friend.” She said. Then she punched him, dropping the captain unconscious.

 

*****

 

“What the?” The Armorer looked up from his bench as the gas alarm went off. He snatched up an air mask, blowing his lungs clear into it to clear the possibility of gas, then took a deep breath. Something was coming toward him, and he spun, tracking. Wasn’t that the animal from the Can-

 

A foot caught him under the heart with all of Yodai’s weight behind it. His hand caught the air mask in the same motion, so that the sudden venting of the armorer’s lungs only made him breath more deeply. The man glared at the little figure balefully as he collapsed.

 

“For an animal not bad, eh?”

 

On the station, five ships began to depart. First was Hawk Flight, followed by Master Hontu, then Padawan Sani of Naboo then in tandem Master Gretu of Triseki, and Padawan Yaka of Ithor.

 

Ahead of them, the Raptor vanished into hyper space.

 

*****

 

The captain could feel himself swaying and spinning below the air return vent. His head felt like he’d laid down in front of a stampede. Some girl Dressed like she got paid for it, and paid damn well. She-

 

His eyes snapped open. The entire crew hung up here like a load of Nerf sides. All of them had a glazed look. Below him he heard a clicking, and he froze as a huge spider came into view. It looked like it might be a droid, but it if was it had become insane. The pedipalps were rubbing together, and it stopped.

 

Looking at him.

 

The spider set a leg against the bulkhead, then swarmed up as if it were level. The set of forelegs curled around him, then he was being carried down. He had heard of Space-feeders, spider like creatures that boarded ships. But he’d always thought they were a space story! The stories of ships found drifting, the crews hanging in enormous webs, drained of all fluids.

 

The spider reached the deck, transitioning from straight up to level without a pause. It carried him down the passageway, then stopped at the his cabin.

 

Two women sat there. They were looking at the log on the computer screen, the one with black hair taking notes. The blonde turned, and he felt an even deeper chill. If there were Space-feeders, their females looked like humans.

 

Maybe the Space feeders Were human!

 

“Very interesting log, Captain.” She said coolly. “Every ship you attacked, every station you ransacked, every person you killed. Every rendezvous you made. It will make a spectacular trial. A pity you didn’t mention who supplied the ships and your fighters.”

 

“My people-”

 

“Spare me.” The black haired Space Feeder looked back at him. “Your planet couldn’t afford this vessel let alone the other five ships in your squadron. A pair of Corellian Wasp class corvettes, A Twi-lek Crasbashti class corvette. two armed merchantmen. Three dozen fighters between them. Eight of them on Station Kroomerik waiting for, Oh yes, Prince of Peace. Such an interesting choice of name for a pirate.”

 

“A pity we have to take them in for trial. That pair of twins aboard the Corellian liner last month. would rather we fed them into a mass converter alive.” The blonde said. “How many times did your crew rape them? Bad enough the Humans had to get involved but everyone else?” She looked disgusted. “I think who someone sleeps with is their choice, but did any of you give those four girls a choice?” She leaned forward, and her eyes seemed to grow as he looked into them.

 

“You want to atone for this.” She whispered.

 

“I must atone.” He replied.

 

“You must tell me who supplied the ship.”

 

“I must tell you.”

 

Breia felt it when Sienna concentrated on the Devaronian this time. It was as if she could feel the tickle of a sneeze. Or a buzzing from a misaligned drive. It was there, but it was in the force.

 

“Tell me.”

 

“The ship was on Nar Shaddaa” he said. “On Pad 94.”

 

“Who put it there?”

 

“Told where it was.”

 

“Who gave you the access code.”

 

“Drubba the Hutt.”

 

“Where did he get the ship?”

 

“Didn’t say.”

 

“Who paid you?”

 

“Money deposited in accounts on Bothuwai.”

 

“By?”

 

“Don’t know.”

 

The questioning went on for over an hour. Sienna leaned back from him, looking at Breia. “Nothing.”

 

“We have bank accounts on Bothuwai, Drubba the Hutt to pick up, and docking records from Nar Shaddaa to go through. We’ll find them.”

[Jae Onasi]

I was gone for a conference so it took me awhile to catch up.

The bar scenes are hilarious. The dresses are even better.

Yeah, I can see all the players fearing your traps as DM. Nasty.

I'm enjoying the mystery development.

There aren't too many stories I'd stay up til nearly 2am to read, you know, but this is one.

[machievelli]

.

There aren't too many stories I'd stay up til nearly 2am to read, you know, but this is one.

 

Jae, this is the second highest praise i have ever gotten as a writer. Thank you.

[Char Ell]

Very entertaining. Yodai the "animal," heh-heh-heh. Breia in a callgirl's "uniform" too. Some great imagery in that chapter.

 

Oh yeah, when I used to DM in D&D? They feared my traps more than anything else.

From the intrigue and detail you use in your stories I have no doubt of that whatsoever.

Jae, this is the second highest praise i have ever gotten as a writer. Thank you.

What was the greatest praise you ever received?

[machievelli]

Very entertaining. Yodai the "animal," heh-heh-heh. Breia in a callgirl's "uniform" too. Some great imagery in that chapter.

 

 

Sienna had a reason for that as you will discover in the next posting. Ypu'll probably think it's hilarious.

 

What was the greatest praise you ever received?

 

When I finally had a book published (Through PublishAmerica, Named Gryphonrider) I sent my mother a copy. She had always refused to read my work, and to tell you the truth, having a writer that closely related refuse to read you work hurt me deeply.

 

But her e-mail made up for it. 'I have never read a first novel so well polished and perfect in my life'.

 

Sadly she died in 2004. I have the only copes extant of about five of her works, one of which is already out of print.

[Renegade Puma]

A great job so far Machievelli. I really like Breia and Merri. Keep up the great work, and I am sorry about your Mother.