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Captain Penley Barrin held back a wince as he watched the Inquisitor’s shuttle enter the Cassowary’s aft hangar bay. The craft was beginning its landing procedure while engaging its repulsorlift system, sending jets of pressurized gas into the ranks of soldiers that, according to protocol, were required to stand at attention and be presented to members of Imperial nobility.
By and large, the Cassowary’s soldiers maintained their bearings as the craft drifted into its appointed landing slot; Barrin made a mental note to personally commend a sergeant who stood stock still as the shuttles’ landing strut, lowered too early, brushed so close overhead that it took his hat as it maneuvered. But there were a few among the ranks who obviously did not trust the pilot of the shuttle, or perhaps believed the passenger did not care for their well-being, and leaned slightly away as the craft came too close to them.
Haytham Weatherbanks, the ships’ executive officer, was not so reticent. “First we have Oblivion terrifying the crew,” he muttered, “and now we have an Inquisitor actively trying to politely knock us about.”
At least, Barrin thought, the man was keeping his voice low enough for only him to hear. “First,” he muttered back, “it’s Intelligence Agent Oblivion, and he’s ordered us to not mention his presence. Second, the Inquisitorious holds high rank within the Imperial Court. You will maintain proper decorum while she is aboard, Lieutenant.”
Weatherbanks stiffened at the rebuke. “Of course, Captain,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Barrin nodded, and let a small grin escape his demeanor. “Of course, she’s not aboard until the shuttle rests on its landing struts,” he said. “I believe you are welcome to your personal opinion of the pampered huntress until she does.”
Weatherbanks was silent for a moment before a short chuckle rang out. “Thank you, sir,” he said, and Barrin could feel his subordinate relax slightly. “It’s still a concern, however.”
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Barrin shrugged, moving his shoulders as little as possible. “I can’t say I’m too happy about it either, Lieutenant,” he said. “But the Inquisitorious can and does supersede standard Imperial doctrine, as you can see here.” He nodded up at the shuttle as it rotated and began lowering to the hangar bay deck. “When they can provide sufficient evidence that their presence is necessary, that is.”
Barrin could sense the frown from his executive officer. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Captain,” Weatherbanks said.
Barrin pursed his lips as he watched the shuttle finish its landing procedure, before stepping forward and gesturing Weatherbanks to follow. “If the Inquisitorious is moving about,” he muttered over his shoulder, “then they have found a Jedi.”
Weatherbanks froze in mid-stride for a moment before resuming the march. “That’s impossible,” he said. “I thought the Jedi were destroyed.”
“Not all of them, Lieutenant,” Barrin said, stopping just before the loading ramp as it lowered to the deck, and nodding up at the ship itself. “There’s one of them, now.”
Weatherbanks stopped behind the Captain and to his left, holding silent his confusion, as the loading ramp struck the deck, revealing the Inquisitor.
To Barrin’s eye, she was frightfully young. Standing just slightly shorter than the Captain, she had the appearance that she had not finished growing. She had her long brown hair braided in a Coruscanti fashion that kept it off her shoulders but allowed full movement of her neck; a fencer’s hairstyle, Barrin supposed. He noted the antiquated lightfoil attached to her belt, hidden by the swirling cape draped over her shoulders. While she wore the armor of an Imperial Inquisitor, with its mix of black and red that gave her a warriors’ appearance, the fullness of her cheeks stood out starkly within her pale features. If Barrin were to guess, he would have thought the Inquisitor barely out of her teens.
It’s the eyes, he thought to himself. The face might be that of a child, but those eyes carry a cruelty that should never be in someone so young.
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The Inquisitor smiled sardonically as she looked back and forth at the crowd presented to her and walked slowly down the ramp toward the Captain. Barrin inhaled slightly, squared his shoulders, and saluted the young huntress.
“Inquisitor Kara,” he said, noting in his peripheral vision that the soldiers had also saluted, “welcome aboard the Cassowary.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she said, her voice a sophisticated alto. Barrin noted the precise tones of her Coruscanti accent. She did not return the salute but continued to look around the landing bay. “It’s so good of the Imperial Navy to serve as host during my inquisitions.”
Barrin smiled, not revealing his teeth, and lowered his hand. “It’s an honor to serve, Inquisitor,” he said.
“I must admit, however,” she continued, as if he had not spoken, heading turning to fix her eyes on the Captain, “that I find your location a surprise. I was under the impression that you were stationed at one of the main hyperspace routes for smuggling interdiction.” She raised an eyebrow, and Barrin suddenly felt like a target at the shooting range. “You’re a long way from your assignment, Captain.
“We were given a new assignment some months ago, Inquisitor,” he said, “and while I was curious, I did not question the order. We’re the Imperial Fleet; we go where we’re needed when we’re needed.
“Indeed,” Kara said, and the suspicious expression was replaced by one of arrogance. “The soldiers’ prerogative, I suppose. Speaking of which: my own soldiers will need a billet.” Kara turned slightly to look back at her shuttle, nodding up at the people at the top of the ramp. As the soldiers descended, she looked back at the Captain. “I would prefer if you kept my stormtroopers in a separate billet from your own aboard ship.” She gave a wry smile. “They would not mix well, I believe.”
And you want to keep them aloof so my people don’t learn exactly who or what it is that you’re hunting for, Barrin thought but did not voice. “Of course, Inquisitor,” he said instead. “We do have a
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barracks section currently available, and we’ll be more than happy to accommodate their needs along with yours.”
“Splendid,” Kara said. One of those stormtroopers had walked forward from the shuttle, stopping just behind the Inquisitor and to her left. Barrin noted that while the trooper wore the pauldron that marked them as a non-commissioned officer, they also had the symbol of the Inquisitorious emblazoned in the pauldrons’ center.
“Lady Inquisitor,” the trooper said, bowing slightly at their waist, “your forces are ready to come aboard the Cassowary.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Kara said. “Captain, this is my forces’ commander, Stormtrooper IDO-4138. He’ll see to their arrangements, deployment, and will maintain discipline among his men.”
“Of course,” Barrin said reflexively, frowning at the soldier. It was an odd setup, he thought, for an Inquisitor to delegate such authority to anyone, even a commander. But he judged that, given her apparent age, she lacked the experience of military protocol and would prefer leaving that to someone beneath her notice.
The number designation was also odd, Barrin noted. The Stormtrooper Corps preferred a three-letter-three number system for its members, and he could not recall any trooper holding to a different system.
He shrugged inwardly. Agent Oblivion had had Killan Sont transferred to Imperial Intelligence, and he had heard rumors of the ISB maintaining its own stormtrooper legion. It was possible that the Inquisitors would have such, as well.
The stormtrooper had stepped forward in the momentary silence, resting his rifle against his shoulder and saluting. “Captain Barrin,” the trooper said in his electronically filtered voice, “Stormtrooper IDO-4138 reporting, though if you give permission for us to be in fatigues aboard ship, I am also Commander Wokash Tilliman.”
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Barrin returned the salute. “At ease, Commander,” he said, “and permission will be granted. I suppose that given your temporary stay, you will not be required to adhere to my stormtroopers’ protocols, but I will expect your people to behave themselves.”
The stormtrooper, Tilliman, nodded. “Of course, Captain,” he said.
“Yes, yes,” Kara said impatiently, waving a negligent hand. “I appreciate this display of protocol, Captain, but I believe it’s time for us to be taken to our quarters.” She gestured at the far door. “If you would, Captain Barrin. IDO-4138 will see to the others.”
Barrin resisted the grimace that wanted to show and smiled instead. “Very well, Inquisitor,” he said. “Follow me, please.”
Turn his back on the young woman, Barrin began guiding her to her temporary quarters, letting the expressions show on his face. At least Oblivion was polite, for all his terrifying presence aboard my ship, he thought.
************************************************************************
Telasa watched the troop movements in the Cassowary’s hangar bay, perched on a metal rafter in one corner and out of the usual observation angles of the security cameras. The camera next to her had been disabled already and was currently looping old visuals for anyone in security; an obvious sabotage, she knew, but not one they would investigate while an Inquisitor was aboard.
Telasa leaned forward to peer down at the Inquisitor. She watched as the woman brusquely ordered Captain Barrin about as if he were an underling and began walking toward the hatchway.
Kara Wren, Telasa thought as she stared at the woman’s’ receding back. If my Master had allowed it, I’d kill you here and now, you murderous shtol.
Telasa inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, relaxing her shoulders from their sudden hunting posture and tamping down her emotions. The Inquisitorious were renowned for their ability to sense
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the presence of hidden Jedi or other Force users, and while this particular Inquisitor was a novice in the Imperial Court, she could sense the abrupt surge of hatred and possibly pinpoint Telasa’s location.
Now isn’t the time, Telasa told her memories. Master would not be pleased if I disobeyed orders, even if he would understand the reason behind it. When it’s appropriate, she will die.
Feeling the anger slip away, Telasa continued in her observation. The rest of the Inquisitors’ entourage was disembarking, and the stormtrooper commander was issuing orders to them. Keeping her focus centered on the commander, Telasa enhanced her hearing and tried to ignore the sudden booms that were the footsteps of so many people in the large chamber.
“The Captain will see to Inquisitor Kara’s quarters,” the stormtrooper was saying to another trooper, “and we will have a billet in an unused barracks. Keep personal equipment aboard the shuttle; weapons and armor, only.”
“Yes, Commander,” the other trooper said. “So we won’t be staying aboard for long?”
The commander shook his head. “I expect we’ll be gone in under a week,” he said, “and if the Inquisitor is successful in her mission, we’ll be heading back to Imperial Center shortly after.”
The other trooper canted his head slightly. “If the Inquisitor is successful?” he asked.
“There is always a level of risk during an Inquisition, trooper,” the commander said. “It’s our job to minimize that risk and even the odds of her success. Move out and head towards our temporary home. Captain Barrin has granted us permission to be out of armor while aboard, so it’ll be fatigues for us.”
Telasa could not tell through the armored helmet, but she imagined the other trooper was smiling at the rarely-given latitude. Easing her hearing back to normal levels, she continued her observation of the procedure and waited. The soldiers went about their duties in good order, and in under ten minutes, they were exiting the hangar bay.
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Telasa frowned to herself as she watched. Oblivion had specifically ordered her to watch the troopers instead of the Inquisitor, but refused to explain why before he left with Sont. While she could see that as his making sure that Telasa did not indulge her personal needs of vengeance, she knew that Oblivion was particularly gifted with foresight. There was something here that he wanted her to see, she knew, but what it could have been, he either could not or would not say.
It was another hour before she was given a possible answer. The crew in the hangar bay observation gallery was switching out with the next shift, and she was beginning to plot her descent to the deck and return to her own quarters, when the hatchway on the far side of the bay slid silently open.
A soldier in military fatigues entered the bay and glanced up at the observation gallery before scanning the area with a focused glare. Telasa silently moved along the rafter beams, keeping to whatever shadows or dimmed lights were nearby for her to get a better look at the soldier.
It was the stormtrooper commander, Telasa guessed. That he was a stormtrooper and not a regular soldier was apparent enough; there was no denying the posture and confident demeanor as the man ambled over to the Inquisitors’ shuttle. Telasa had stopped just over the shuttle and watched the trooper duck under its hull and, seconds later, had lowered the boarding ramp.
It was just odd enough, Telasa knew, that it would be worth sticking around a few more minutes.
Whatever the trooper was doing, however, was done inside the shuttle and done rather quickly. Barely five minutes had passed before she saw the stormtrooper walking back to the hatchway. The trooper had apparently not given himself enough time in his plan, as Telasa could see the shift change in the observation galley was finishing up. The trooper hurriedly exited the hangar bay just as the new crew were settling into their seats and switching their monitors over to their assigned cameras.
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Smiling tightly to herself, Telasa climbed down the rafter beams as far as she could, hanging by her hands at the lowest beam just over the shuttle and dropping the last ten meters. A moments’ concentration and effort in the Force and she had slowed her fall, landing on the shuttles’ outer hull and quickly sliding over its edge.
Telasa landed on the hangar bay deck in a crouch, patiently listening for any signs of alarm from the observation gallery. With no such indicators that she had been spotted, she darted to the lowered ramp and entered the shuttle.
Sloppy, she thought as she took in her new surroundings. Whatever you were doing in here, trooper, you ran out of time for it. But what does a trooper need to be stealthy for, anyway?
That question, and her own prescience in the Force, guided her as she investigated the shuttle. It was a Thortnim-Koll 803, a smaller transport from before the Clone Wars. The vessels had been tailored to cater to the wealthier denizens of the Old Republic, but few were still in service within the Empire. While their profiles were elegant and aesthetically pleasing to humans, they were also maintenance-sinks for their owners, and needed an additional crew member aboard to keep an eye on the engine. When the Empire replaced the Old Republic, many nobles of those olden days began switching out the Thortnims for something more modern and less prone to failure.
For the Inquisitor to be using this ship, Telasa surmised, she either personally owned the vessel from her prior life, or was given it as a backhanded gift from her superiors. Telasa smirked at the thought of the latter.
The yacht had a spacious main hold, which appeared to have been the living quarters for the Inquisitor’s soldiers and crew. Glancing around, Telasa noted the cockpit, private quarters, and maintenance hatches. There were no weapon installments for this craft, though Telasa would not have put it past fancy girl to have had a few surprises snuck away along the hull of the ship. The hatchway to
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the engine chamber and engineering station was situated as far back from the cockpit as possible, normally locked away behind its dedicated keypad.
Only…that hatchway was unlocked.
Telasa approached the door and examined it thoroughly. The keypad was cheerfully blinking away in green indicators of an unlocked door, and the door slid open when Telasa keyed for it without any further prompting.
Perplexed, Telasa leaned her head over to peer into the engine room without entering the chamber itself. The core was a simple design: a single column from deck to ceiling, with access panels indicating the shifting power outputs and readouts to alert the engineer to problems. One such panel, dedicated to the shield generator power lines, had been left open.
Telasa stared at the open panel for a long moment, and then smiled. Without another glance, she closed the hatchway, locked it, and exited the ship. A subtle use of the Force distracted the observers in the gallery above her, allowing her to quietly sprint to the door the trooper had used.
So, Telasa thought, smiling still as she walked down the long hallways toward her private quarters in Oblivions’ old area, it now gets interesting. I didn’t realize he was involved.
Maybe the patience her Master had instilled in her would be worth the trouble, after all. Maybe Inquisitor Kara would get the justice she so richly deserved, and having him handle it would be almost worth her not being able to kill the woman, herself.
Either way, she was going to have to wait, and see.
Swift's Corner 