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Chapter 1
One Month Later…
“Captain Barrin has received a message from the Inquisitors, Master,” Telasa said, walking into the circle of light within Agent Oblivion’s quarters. She was showing one of her rare smiles as she read the datapad she carried. “He believed it fell into the parameters of what you asked regarding such missives.”
Agent Oblivion turned his waist slightly to look over at his apprentice, holding up a hand to indicate that the other human, a bulky male in stormtrooper armor, should pause in his exercise. “Really, Telasa,” he said, his mechanical voice managing to convey the strained patience he always had when talking to his apprentice, “I cannot fathom why you see a need to act as messenger for me when those same entries are marked on my own datapad.”
“I am merely fulfilling the duties and responsibilities that are expected of an apprentice,” she said, looking at the eye coverings on his helmet and bowing slightly. “It would just not do to treat you with any less respect than what is due to your station, Master.”
Oblivion scoffed. “More likely,” he said, “you just knew this message would annoy me, and you take every opportunity to see me in such a state.”
The stormtrooper had, while Oblivion was not looking at him, gasped for air and fell to the deck. The sound of his armor striking the flooring briefly muted the heavy breathing he was now indulging in.
Oblivion gestured with the held-out hand for the stormtrooper to stand. “And you can see that I am busy, apprentice,” he said. His mechanical voice dropped an octave as he stared at her. “This better be important.”
Telasa, still smiling, presented her datapad screen to her master. “Captain Barrin wished to inform you that the Inquisition was coming to the ship,” she said. Her face held a smug expression, no
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doubt at the prolonged silence from her master. “Inquisitor Kara will be arriving within the week to pursue her investigations in this sector, and will no doubt use the Cassowary as her staging platform for her inquisition.”
Oblivion let out a prolonged mechanical sigh and slumped his shoulders. Behind him, the stormtrooper was panting heavily as he hoisted himself back onto his feet. “Of course,” he said eventually. “Just as we were beginning to make decent progress, this has to happen.”
Telasa raised an eyebrow. “But this is indeed the sort of news for which you’d rather be interrupted?” she asked.
“Very much so,” Oblivion answered. He turned back to the stormtrooper and watched him as he settled back onto his feet and rolled his shoulders, his revealed face sheened in sweat. “This will change the timetable slightly.”
“Shall I see to the preparations, master?” Telasa asked. She eyed the stormtrooper. “Your new weapon would probably enjoy the rest while you speak with the Captain.”
Oblivion waved a negligent hand at his apprentice. “Presently,” he said. “A few more rounds and I will be satisfied. Please, ready my shuttle and send word to the Captain.” He turned his head slightly back to Telasa. “You’ll remain aboard ship and will observe this Inquisitor. Quietly, if you please.”
Telasa bowed her head and left the chamber. Oblivion listened as the stormtrooper’s breathing became more regular and felt the tremors in the Force as he attempted to focus his will.
“Killan Sont,” Oblivion said. The stormtrooper started at the use of his personal name. “Or DUV-287 if you’d prefer.”
The stormtrooper inhaled deeply and finally settled his shoulders. “It’s your choice, m’lord,” he said. “I must admit that I haven’t heard it used much while aboard ship, so it’s startling to hear.”
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“Very well,” Oblivion said, nodding. “Your training is showing promise, but as you might have heard, the need of your training is proving to be more urgent than planned. Now,” he gestured at the small metal dish bolted onto the far wall, nearly twelve meters away, “try the attack again.”
Sont closed his eyes and took a more focused breath. Oblivion could sense the human gathering the power necessary for the task, shaping it to the desired outcome. Sont suddenly opened his eyes and lashed out a hand toward the dish, fingers tightened into talons. The humans’ eyes had shifted from their usual white to a more yellow tint.
With a shout, Sont focused his will and sent it hurtling to the dish. Blue lightning began arcing down the outstretched arm before it reached the pointed fingers. The gloved hand began to smoke before a bolt of lightning raced out from the fingertips, striking the metal dish across the room, and crackling in the air. Sont held the attack for nearly six seconds before, gasping, his arm dropped, and the lightning suddenly vanished. The human fell to the deck once again, landing on his armored knees and elbows, clutching at the smoking hand.
Oblivion stared at the dish and noted the scorch marks at the center. “Your focus is improving,” he said. He looked at the smoking hand. “Your ability to resist the feedback surge is not, however. If I recall correctly, there are metal plates in stormtrooper gloves. Is that true?”
Weakly and through obvious pain, Sont nodded. “Gloves are reinforced to aid us in personal combat,” he said with a hitch in his voice. “There are small bolts over the knuckles that rest against the skin.”
Oblivion nodded. “I have no doubts that you are a tough individual, Sont,” he said, “and while I do believe that pain is a great teacher for discipline, I also believe that in this method, it will hamper you.” He held up his own gloved hand. “You will need to be able to discard your gloves quickly if you need to use your new abilities, but stormtrooper armor is not designed for quick release. I have
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commissioned a new pair for you that will have this modification, however. You will pick them up on your way to the shuttle.”
Sont looked up sharply, gathering himself to sit on his haunches and cradling his hand. “Shuttle, m’lord?” he asked. “I cannot leave the Cassowary, sir. I was assigned to its stormtrooper unit, and I would be listed as a deserter if I did without shore leave.”
“You were assigned to its stormtrooper unit, Sont,” Oblivion corrected him. “You’ve been transferred to Imperial Intelligence and placed under my command. You’ll still be considered a stormtrooper; you’ll just have a different unit and commander.”
Sont looked at the Agent quizzically for a moment before the pain in his hand distracted him. He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, m’lord,” he said. “May I ask where I am going, and why?”
Oblivion gestured at the metal dish. “After three more practice rounds,” he said, “you’ll accompany me on a field mission where your newfound abilities will be put to the test. I also do not wish for you to attract the attention of the Inquisitor. I will not name the destination system until we are on my shuttle and outbound, however. Security for this mission must be maintained. Now, remove your glove and stand up.”
Sont slowly made his way back to a standing position, removing the glove as he did so. As the shell casing fell to the deck with a thump, Sont stared at the revealed hand with both intrigue and horror. The knuckles of his hand were blackened, and the back of the hand was riddled with lightning scars.
“The scars will serve as reminders, Sont,” Oblivion said. He gestured at the metal dish. “Your new power is great, but also costly. Now, once more, if you please.”
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“Say that again,” Lina said, flipping her welding goggles onto her forehead as she checked her handiwork. The crack in the Myatil’s landing strut had taken the weld, but she preferred knowing she did the work right. “A bit slower this time, please.”
There was a chuffing sound close behind her, which without context or lighting would have sounded frightening. A large furry hand came into her peripheral vision, holding a bonding vice, and the chuffing changed over to the growls and rumbles of Wookiee speech.
“The work…,” Lina said, trying hard to listen, “is nearly finished. Was that right?” She turned back to look at the Wookiee near her, who gave his approximation of a human smile. She only flinched a little.
Will’po chuffed his laugh again, and repeated his statement, even slower than previously. He also made the rumbles louder, almost like a roar.
“I’m not deaf, Will’po,” she said, wincing at the sound. “Just ignorant of the language.” She thought about the changes of pitch in the growls, parceling out the different harmonics that shifted Shryiiwook words subtly. “Oh!” she exclaimed, smiling triumphantly. “The weld! The weld is nearly finished!”
Will’po nodded, proffering the vice again. Lina took it and secured the tool around the landing strut, tightening it until she could see the weld filling the crack entirely.
“At least I’m making progress,” Lina murmured, watching the weld go through its rapid-cooling process. “Both in speaking Shryiiwook and in these kinds of repairs.” She glanced up at the belly of the shuttle less than three meters above her head. “I wish we had a lift cradle, though. That weld would settle faster if the shuttle wasn’t sitting on it.”
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Will’po grunted in agreement and was starting to inspect the weld more closely, when Olto’s voice rang out in the hold. Lina looked around but did not spot the Xexto captain, settling her attention on the speaker box next to the hatch.
“Field Group!” Olto said through the device. “Report to my office, please! Everyone, and that means you too, Beak!”
“But Captain,” a mechanical voice answered through the same comm system. “I’m already here. I’m less than two meters away from you.”
“So you are, Beak!” Olto exclaimed. “Now that’s showing responsiveness to orders!” The comm speaker crackled and went silent.
Lina stared at the speaker, then shared a confused glance with Will’po. “I’m beginning to think everyone on this Corvette is slightly insane.”
The Wookiee shrugged, nodding. He growled something out in the slow manner he used to make sure she could understand.
“What do I expect?” she clarified. Will’po nodded and she shrugged. “Most likely another job, but the Captain sounded very excited. Maybe it’ll be another high-paying one like that one last month.”
Will’po grunted, and Lina did not need to translate the sheer exhaustion from the Wookiee’s words. Both left the hold and joined the fray in the corridors, heading toward Olto’s office.
“Captain,” Beak was saying as Lina and Will’po approached the Captain’s quarters, “I must inquire as to why you prefer holding these meetings in your quarters instead of the conference room. The lack of space available within a ships’ quarters makes such meetings—”
“Privacy, Beak!” Olto answered, his cheerful demeanor undaunted by the droids’ rhetoric. “The conference room is still being used for storage, and you never know who is going to wander in, looking for a hydrospanner. Here, however, we can expect little traffic in and out.”
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Lina came up to the hatchway for the Captains’ quarters and peered inside. She had to agree with the droid on this one: space was harshly limited on a starship, and even a captain’s personal quarters had only so much space for visitors. Though she supposed that for Olto, being a much smaller being than a human, found the chamber quite spacious.
At his desk sat Captain Olto Gabin, and the Xexto was in full-cheerful exuberance, with all four arms darting around as he gathered his datacards and supplies. Standing beside the Captain was the M-3PO droid Beak, fussing over the Captain for his lack of maintaining ship protocol. Using the Captain’s bunk as a couch sat Mik Suillacosta, the Twi’lek information gatherer and lead contact being for the Captain. On the far wall leaned Mardek Plot’pek, Bothan scout, and Lina had to remind herself to not stare at his rectangular pupils. She knew he was sensitive about how his genetic disease had changed his appearance. Opposite Lina at the hatchway stood the burly Barabel, Votosh Khall, who looked into the quarters with obvious discomfort. Next to him was their most recent addition to the crew: Taran Scarn. His own bulky frame would have been uncomfortable in the crammed space, but he appeared amused at the Captain’s energy.
“Oh!” Olto said, smiling up at Lina. “Good! Both of you are here! We can get started!” He took out his datapad with one hand and inserted a card with another, while his lower arms continued to busy themselves with cleaning up his desk.
“I have two bits of good news!” Olto said. “First, thanks to the previous contract your group took, and the past months’ work of engineering and mechanical work, the Sidewinder will be able to lift off from Saulapran within the week!”
The Field Group gave small cheers to this news, with Lina joining in. She noticed out of the corner of her eye, however, that Taran had leaned forward with interest. He was smiling, at least.
“Second, and pertaining to the Field Group specifically, I have one last contract for you to fulfill,” Olto continued. He turned his head around on his long neck to give everyone present an almost-giddy
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expression. “It’s a skybound contract.” His lower hands clapped together. “You’ll be flying someone off Saulapran in the Myatil!”
Lina perked up at this. “Erm, Captain?” she asked, hesitantly. “I was under the impression that the shuttles’ hyperdrive was as inoperable as the Sidewinder. The housing for its hyperdrive is, in fact, empty.”
Olto waved a hand at the confusion in her voice. “Something of a security measure, Lina,” he said. He hooked a thumb to indicate the droid in the room. “Beak was the one who told me about it. The shuttle is one of the Sidewinder’s most useful and necessary tools, and it’s been the target of theft in the past. I had our mechanics remove the hyperdrive to prevent it from getting too far away if anyone ever managed to steal it.”
Lina raised an eyebrow at that. “Why wasn’t I ever told about that?” she asked.
Beak turned his clamshell head to face her, though she could see an almost-human shrug of his shoulders in regret. “Standard military security protocols, Mistress Lina,” he said in an apologetic tone, “dictates that knowledge of the whereabouts of such a component would be on a ‘need-to-know’ basis. As no one in the Field Group besides me needed to know about the missing component, it was not deemed necessary to inform you or anyone else present.”
Lina felt stung at the remark, but she saw Mardek nod at the explanation. “It was the same with the Bothan military,” he said. His voice was rough from a recent coughing fit, but his fur did not give the usual ripples of discomfort that precluded such an act. “Only two of us are actual pilots rated for that shuttle, and without the Sidewinder as a base, leaving the system in the shuttle would be both unnecessary and dangerous. Knowledge about the hyperdrives’ location wasn’t necessary for us to complete our contracts.” He glanced over at Olto. “Until now, it seems.”
“Indeed!” Olto said. He tapped a button on his datapad and removed the card, handing it over to Beak. “The Myatil’s hyperdrive will be reinstalled and primed over the next two days. After that, you’ll
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be flying up to the Rainbow Chaser, or Helicity 22, to pick up cargo and a passenger. He’s paying us to transport him to Tatooine, after which you will wait for the Sidewinder to arrive and pick you up.” He gave out a long sigh of relief. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our stay on this world, I’ll be happy to lift off from it.”
“This one agrees,” Votosh rumbled. “Too many fish meals, not enough prey on land to hunt.”
“Exactly, Votosh!” Olto said, looking over to the Barabel. “It’s time we had something different to eat!” He gestured to indicate the droid. “Beak has the fine details of the contract and will provide any information you feel you’ll need. Taran, I want you to go over installing and priming the hyperdrive in the Myatil shuttle. You’ve been trained in that area of engineering, right?”
Taran looked momentarily surprised at the sudden attention, but apparently the past month on the Sidewinder had inculcated him to the Captain’s mannerisms. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I’m better at personal equipment, but I’ve been taught ship mechanics as well.”
“Splendid!” Olto said. He made shooing motions with all four arms. “Off to your duties, then! In two day’s time, you’ll be off Saulapran and bound for Tatooine!”
As the group began to file back into the corridor, Lina tried to match her pace with Taran. “It’s been a while since I’ve done astronavigation,” she said. “Could you check the navicomputer and make sure it’s running all right, too?”
Taran grinned. “I can try,” he said. “But that’ll be something for which I’ll need Beak. Don’t worry, though. We’ll get this sorted.”
“Right,” Lina said. “This is just a pickup and transport job. Compared to what we had to handle last month, this should be a blue milk run.”
Taran winced, and Lina looked up at him. “What?” she asked.
“Of all the things to say, kid,” Taran said, grinning though his wince in amusement, “you said the exact wrong thing to guarantee it’ll be a ‘blue milk run’.”
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