Star Wars_ Allegiance Part 16

"Good," Han said, starting to get up. "Nice and easy."

"Wait a second," Luke objected. "We're going to run?"

"From a bank robbery?" Han countered. "You bet." "But we have to help."

"Which side?" Han retorted. "Robbers against a big corporation? Big choice."

"That's not fair," Luke objected.

"He's right, kid," Porter put in nervously. "Besides, we're trying to keep a low profile, remember?"

Luke grimaced. His words to Ben on Tatooine whispered through his mind: I can't get involved. Yet if he hadn't, Tarkin and the Death Star would have won, and Leia and Rieekan and hundreds of others would now be dead.

"Fine-you keep your low profile," he said. "I'll do it myself."

Across the table Chewbacca rumbled a protest, his ma.s.sive paw batting at Han's arm.

"Oh, for-" Han broke off, glaring up at his partner. "Chewie-oh, all right. You two stay put-Chewie and me'll handle it."

"Solo-" Porter began.

"Or go ahead and run," Han cut him off. "I don't care which."

"But I want to help," Luke objected.

"Then find a way to distract them," Han said, standing. "Come on, Chewie.

Let's get it over with."

"There they go," Grave murmured as the Corellian and Wookiee stood and headed unconcernedly toward the door. "Think they're with whoever's outside?"

"Could be," LaRone said, watching the kid. He and the farmer were still sitting at the table, the boy fingering something inside his runic.

Getting ready to draw a blaster? The Corellian and Wookiee walked past the trio at the table, the Corellian's hand dropping casually toward his holstered blaster.

And then from the street outside came the sound of a m.u.f.fled explosion.

The murmur of conversation in the tapcafe abruptly cut off as everyone froze, listening.

Everyone, that was, except the threesome at the table. Even as a second blast rumbled, all three abruptly stood, one of the humans pointing a large blaster at LaRone and Grave, the other targeting the two tables of security men at the back, the Rodian turning to cover the Corellian and Wookiee. "So much for taking them by surprise," Grave muttered.

"Right," LaRone murmured back. The would-be ambushers had turned to face the Rodian now, the Corellian with feigned bewilderment on his face, the Wookiee just looking dangerous. Out of the corner of his eye LaRone saw the kid stand up beside his table and raise his arm over his head.

And with a sizzling snap-hiss a blue-edged blade blazed into existence.

The distinctive sound of a lightsaber probably hadn't been heard on Drunost since the Clone Wars. But it wasn't an easy sound to forget.

Instantly, magically, every eye in the tapcafe turned to look at the lightsaber the kid was holding over his head like a war banner. Even the Rodian half turned before he remembered he was supposed to be on guard and spun back.

But that half second of inattention was all it took. The Corellian took a long step forward and grabbed the end of the Rodian's blaster, twisting it to point toward the ceiling as he yanked out his own weapon. The Wookiee's approach was even more straightforward: grabbing the front of the Rodian's shirt, he lifted the alien straight off his feet and hurled him over the table into his two companions. All three went down, crashing into both their own table and the one next to them and disappearing from LaRone's view into a confused snarl of arms and legs.

The Rodian was quick. Even as LaRone drew his hold -out blaster the alien roiled back up into view, chattering curses at everyone within range.

Dragging his blaster out of the tangle, he lifted it toward his attackers.

LaRone was lining up his blaster on the Rodian's back when the Corellian fired a single shot. This time the Rodian went down for good.

And then the security men from the back tables were there, three of them swarming over the two men on the floor with binders at the ready, the rest brushing past the Corellian and the Wookiee. The security man in front threw open the door, paused there a moment to a.s.sess the situation, then charged through with the others close behind. As the door swung closed again LaRone could hear the sounds of blasterfire beginning to fill the street.

The Corellian and Wookiee didn't follow. Their job apparently done, they turned and headed back to their table. The kid with the lightsaber closed it down and tucked it away as their farmer friend got to his feet, and all four of them made for a curtained door beside the bar. As the others pa.s.sed through the curtain and a hidden door behind it, the kid with the lightsaber paused and turned around.

And looked directly at LaRone and Grave.

For a moment he held that pose. Then, turning back, he disappeared through the door with the others.

"Well, that was different," Grave commented, fingering his hold-out blaster as he stood up. "We joining the party?"

"I don't know," LaRone said, getting out his comlink. There had been something in the kid's look that had set his skin tingling. "Quiller?"

"On our way," the other's voice came back. "ETA, about ninety seconds."

"Does Consolidated have anything in the air yet?"

"Oh, they've got everything in the air," Quiller said. "Patrol boats, high-cover skimmers, even a couple of small gunboats. Give them full points for preparedness."

LaRone looked back toward the curtained back door. "In that case, break off and swing up and over the line of buildings east of the repository. I want you to find and track a group of four people: three humans and a Wookiee."

"Hang on."

The comlink went silent. "You thinking maybe our farmer may be mixed up in something a little more complicated than dirt scratching?" Grave asked.

"Dirt scratching is complicated enough," LaRone told him. "But yes, I was wondering that. If he was a loot-sniffer on that swooper raid, it could be he and his three friends are a.s.sociated with the BloodScars."

"Who wanted to prevent the bank robbery and why?" Grave asked.

"Maybe the raiders are from a rival gang," LaRone said. "I just think they're worth keeping an eye on."

"Got 'em," Quiller's voice announced. "Two different landspeeders-one with one of the humans, the other with the other two and the Wookiee ...

the singleton's splitting off."

LaRone made a fast decision. "Stay with the threesome."

"Acknowledged," Quiller said. "Looks like they're heading for one of the service yards."

Did that mean their mission was over? "We'll pick up the trail behind them," LaRone said, standing up and gesturing Grave toward the back door.

"Let me know when they mark their ship. And set up a track-we're going to want to follow them."

"We are?" Grave asked. "Why?"

"Because they're connected to this," LaRone said. "I don't know exactly how, but they are. And at the moment, they're our only solid connection."

"Doesn't sound all that solid to me," Grave said doubtfully.

"It may be a little loose," LaRone conceded. "But it won't cost us anything to at least see where they're going."

Grave shrugged. "Nothing but time and fuel."

"We've got the time, and ISB's providing the fuel," LaRone pointed out as they slipped into the tapcafe's back room and headed for the exit. "Let's go before they spot Quiller."

"No, Purnham" Han repeated. "The Purnham system. Where Porter said you got hit once by pirates?"

"Are you crazy?" Cas.e.m.e.nt's voice demanded over the Falcon's comm. "We're trying to avoid pirates, remember?"

"No, we're trying to lock down this BloodScar thing," Han said.

"But the Purnham attack wasn't from the Blood-Scars," Cas.e.m.e.nt objected.

Han rolled his eyes as, beside him, Chewbacca warbled a softly contemptuous growl. Couldn't these idiots see it? "Look," Han said, pitching his voice as if he were talking to a small child or a midlevel bureaucrat. "We don't know where the BloodScars are, but you and Porter think they're trying to snap up other fringe groups. Maybe they're also trying to recruit the Purnham gang; and we do know where that group hangs out. If we can catch a couple of them, maybe they can tell us where to find the BloodScars."

"Well. . . maybe," Cas.e.m.e.nt conceded. "But getting them to talk won't be easy."

Han looked at the glowering Wookiee beside him. "Let me worry about that," he said. "You just get a cargo ship there-let's make it three days from now. Be sure you route the manifest the same way you did before, in case someone's slicing the dispatch records for good targets."

"Fine," Cas.e.m.e.nt said, a heavy layer of resignation in his voice.

"Whatever you say. But I've got to tell you, I've got a bad fe-"

"Three days," Han said, and cut off the comm. He turned a glare toward Luke, sitting quietly behind Chewbacca. "Or are there other objections?" he challenged.

"No, no, I like it," Luke a.s.sured him hastily. "The last thing they'll expect is an ambush."

"Good," Han said, turning back to the controls. "Then we're all agreed.

Wonderful."

Keying on the repulsorlifts, he lifted the Falcon off the pad. Go and talk to the supply people, Rieekan had said. That's all. Just go and talk to them.

Yeah. Right.

"My engineers say everything will be up and running in four more hours,"

Captain Ozzel said, taking a hasty step backward as a long shielding plate on its way across the Happer's Way engine room swung dangerously in their direction. Mara, her eyes and brain automatically making quick size and distance calculations, didn't bother to move as the metal plate pa.s.sed no closer than five centimeters from her face. "Is there any other way we can serve you?"

"I'll need two of your crewers," she told him. "Men who can both fight and handle a ship this size."

"You mean close-in fighting?" Ozzel asked doubtfully. "That won't be easy."

"Maybe you can pull them from your stormtrooper contingent," Mara suggested.

There was a flicker of something in Ozzel's face and sense. "That may be possible," he said carefully. "I'll check with the group commander."

"Don't bother-I'll meet with him myself," Mara said. "Tell him to report to the bay duty office." "Right away," Ozzel said, pulling out his comlink. Maneuvering her way along the Happer's Way's narrow corridors, Mara stepped out through the hatch into the Reprisal's hangar bay, where the freighter had been brought for repairs. As per her orders, the purely cosmetic damage Shakko's men had inflicted on the outer hull hadn't been touched. She glanced over it, satisfied herself that there was nothing to show that the repairs hadn't been made in deep s.p.a.ce by the Happer's Way's own crew, and headed for the duty office.

A smooth-faced man wearing colonel's insignia was waiting when she arrived. "Emperor's Hand," he greeted her gravely. "I'm Colonel Vak Somoril. I understand you wished to see me?"

"You're the stormtrooper group commander?" Mara asked.

"Not the overall commander, but I head a specialized contingent," Somoril explained. "Captain Ozzel thought my unit would be more likely to have the sort of men you're looking for."

"I need two warriors who also know their way around a Rendili heavy freighter," Mara told him. "Can you supply them?"

"I think so," Somoril said. "When do you want them?"

"Immediately," Mara said. "Have them collect civilian gear and report to the Happer's Way. Captain Norello will meet them there for a quick orientation to the ship and its systems. We'll be leaving the Reprisal in four hours."

"As you wish," Somoril said briskly. "They'll be aboard in twenty minutes." "Good. Dismissed."

Somoril left. For a few seconds Mara gazed at the closed door, allowing him time to get across the hangar bay. Then, stepping over to the duty office computer terminal, she punched in her special override pa.s.sword and keyed for a search of the Reprisal's personnel roster. There was no Colonel Vak Somoril listed. Pursing her lips, Mara keyed for the bridge log and repeated her search. Again, nothing. Switching to the flight log, she searched for arrivals and departures.

There, finally, she found something. There were still no names, Somoril's or anyone else's, but a little over two standard weeks earlier eight nonmilitary vessels had arrived aboard the Reprisal and been given berths in Hangar Bay 5. One of the ships had left three days later, though under odd circ.u.mstances and with some apparent contradictions in the sequence of log reports. The other ships were still aboard.

Put together, the pattern was obvious. Colonel Somoril and his specialized stormtrooper contingent were Imperial Security Bureau.

Mara wrinkled her nose in disgust. ISB was a necessary evil, she knew, though to her mind there was too much evil and not enough necessity in the mix. Her own limited experience had found them to be generally arrogant, heavy-handed, and overly proud of their elite status.

And if there was prestige or political advantage to be had, they could be trusted to be first in line. Probably why Somoril had maneuvered himself ahead of the Reprisal's official stormtrooper commander to offer a combat force to the Emperor's Hand.

Odd, though, that he hadn't then made a point of identifying himself as ISB. Perhaps he planned that revelation for just before Mara's departure.

Shutting down the terminal, Mara left the office and crossed the bay to the pilots' briefing room. Two troopers stood on guard, and at her gesture one of them unlocked the door and opened it.

Sitting at the conference table, securely shackled to one of the legs by two sets of binders, was the pirate Tannis. "About time," he growled.

"When do I get something to eat?"

"Shut up and listen," Mara said, pulling out a data card and holding it up for his inspection. "I've prepared a list of charges against you.

Added together, the total package reads out as anywhere from thirty standard years in a penal colony all the way up to the death penalty."

Tannis's mouth twisted. "This is your idea of a deal?"

"I'm not finished," Mara told him. "So far you've had a pretty easy ride, you and the rest of your friends down in the brig. You've been nicely anonymous, given that the only people who could finger you for piracy were always dead before you left the scene with their cargoes. As long as you weren't stupid enough to wear your BloodScar patches, you could stroll down any street in the Empire without anyone being the wiser as to who you really were."

She tapped the card with one fingertip. "But that's all over now. Along with the charges, this card also details your face, your fingerprints, your biometrics, and your full DNA profile. Once this is in the Imperial data bank, any law enforcement officer curious enough to punch you in will have your entire criminal history in the time it takes to comm to Imperial Center and back." She raised her eyebrows. "Which means you're going to either spend the next thirty-plus years in prison or else spend it hiding in sewers and dark holes."

Tannis's face was under good control, but Mara could sense the fear starting to tug at him as he looked ahead to the bleak future she had sketched out. "Unless?" he asked carefully.