Star Wars_ Allegiance Part 30

For the first couple of hours she found her heart jumping every time the door opened, followed by an equally quick flash of relief when it turned out to be only another customer. It wasn't until the afternoon lull began to ramp up again toward the pre-dinner hour that she noticed the subtle change in the customers' att.i.tude toward her.

At first she thought they'd simply given up on her; that they'd decided there was no point in expecting her to get the nuances of their culture right and thus no point in berating her, even politely, when she messed up. But while that might explain the regulars' new courtesy, it didn't explain those who hadn't seen her in fumbling action the previous day.

They were midway through the dinner rush when a large but quiet Adarian family arrived ... a family that included the child whose face she'd seen across from her window the previous night.

And then, finally, she understood. Chivkyrie had been right-her blasterfire had indeed woken up the entire neighborhood. But instead of reporting her to the patrollers, they'd realized it had been an attempt to help, and a successful one at that.

Apparently, their new tolerance for her failings was their way of thanking her.

Leia returned to the apartment later as weary in body as she'd been the night before. But this time, there was no despair to drag her still further down. Perhaps the people of Makrin City weren't yet ready to take a stand against Imperial Center's tyranny. But they were getting closer.

Whether this new determination and respect would survive when Imperial troops were marching through the streets, of course, was another question.

One way or another, Leia would find out soon enough.

Chapter Nineteen.

"COMING UP ON SHELKONWA," QUILLER Announced. "Are our guests ready to take their leave of us?"

"As far as I know," LaRone said, gazing across the c.o.c.kpit at Marcross's profile. Even in the flickering hypers.p.a.ce glow, the tension lines in the other's cheeks and neck were clearly visible. "Grave and Bright.w.a.ter are keeping an eye on them. Marcross?"

The lines shifted subtly, as if Marcross was coming back from some dark and distant place. "What?" he asked, half turning to face the other.

"Just making sure you're all right," LaRone said. "You've been a little odd ever since Gepparin."

"I'm fine," Marcross said, turning back to face the canopy. "I just want this over with."

"a.s.suming we can find the BloodScars' contact," Quiller commented. "I know you think you got enough from that HoloNet log-"

"I got enough," Marcross cut him off.

"Fine," Quiller said. "I just meant that Shelkonwa's a big planet-"

"I said I got enough."

"Don't you think it's about time you shared that information with the rest of us?" LaRone suggested. "At least give us the contact number that was on the setup log in case something happens to you and we have to find a way to backtrack it."

The tension lines shifted again. "You won't need to backtrack it,"

Marcross said. "The traitor's at the palace."

LaRone stared. "The governor's palace?" "That's the only palace down there." "I know, but-"

"But what?" Marcross snapped. "You don't think traitors come in all sizes and shapes and ranks? Just look at the three we have in the back of our own ship."

"Here we go," Quiller said, and pulled the hyperdrive levers. The stars reappeared- Quiller stiffened in his seat. "Oh, no," he murmured.

"No, no, no."

"Steady," LaRone soothed, his own chest feeling a little tight as he gazed out at the huge command ship floating in high orbit over the planet. "We've got our ID in place. We're all right."

The comm pinged. "Executor to incoming Suwantek freighter," a crisp voice said. "We're reading a military ID on you. Please confirm via clearance code."

"Quiller?" LaRone prompted.

There was no response. Quiller was still staring at the huge ship as if he were seeing a ghost. "I've got it," Marcross said, swiveling around and punching the code panel.

For a moment there was silence. "Code confirmed," the voice said.

"Destination?"

"Makrin City," Quiller said. "Governor's palace."

"The palace landing area's been temporarily closed down," the voice said.

"I can clear you to either Makrin Main or Greencliff Regional. State your preference."

"Why is the palace field closed?" LaRone asked, pulling up a map of the region. Makrin Main was in the heart of the city's northwest quadrant, only a few kilometers from the governor's palace, while Greencliff Regional was a much smaller port tucked between the northeast part of the city and a line of cliffs running down the entire eastern edge.

"There's a military search operation under way in the city," the voice replied. "The palace field's been shut down for security reasons."

"What are they searching for?"

"Cla.s.sified," the other said, starting to sound annoyed. "State your landing preference."

Marcross looked back at LaRone, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"Makrin Main's closer," he murmured.

"But Greencliff will be less crowded," LaRone murmured back.

Marcross considered, then nodded. "We'll take Greencliff," he said aloud.

"Acknowledged. You're cleared for Greencliff Regional."

"Thank you." Marcross shut down the comm. "Quiller? You all right?"

"Oh, sure, I'm fine," Quiller said, his voice suddenly carrying a graveyard tone. "I don't suppose either of you happened to notice the name of that ship?"

Marcross glanced a frown back at LaRone. "The Executor" Marcross said.

"Why?"

"I guess you ground-thumpers don't need to keep up with Fleet news."

Quiller took a careful breath. "The Executor just happens to be the brand-new flagship of the Lord Darth Vader."

LaRone stared out at the ship, his stomach tightening. Vader? "What in the worlds is he doing here?"

"At a guess, he's after either our traitor or Solo's Rebel friend,"

Quiller said tartly. "I guess she must be a little more important than we thought."

"Though he did say they'd probably locked down the planet over her,"

LaRone reminded him.

"I thought he was exaggerating," Quiller bit out. "I don't know about you two, but I don't want to be in the same city as Darth Vader. I don't want to even be in the same star system."

"I don't blame you," Marcross said, his voice sounding tight but determined. "If you want, you can just drop me at the s.p.a.ceport." : "What are you talking about?" LaRone asked, frowning.

"I'm going after the traitor," Marcross said. "The rest of you don't have to stay. In fact, Quiller's right-with Vader here, it'll be a lot safer for everyone if you don't." "Forget it," LaRone said. "We're in this together." "You don't owe me anything," Marcross insisted. "We owe the people of Shelsha sector," LaRone countered. "Just because one BloodScar base is gone doesn't mean the conspiracy is over. We need to pull this thing out by the root."

"If Vader catches you, you'll wish ISB had found you first," Marcross warned. "Just drop me and go."

"Oh, thanks," Quiller growled. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Actually, Vader being here may work out to our advantage," LaRone pointed out. "He'll almost certainly have his private stormtrooper legion on the ground conducting his search. We can just blend into the crowd."

Quiller turned a look of disbelief on him. "You're joking, right? LaRone, this isn't just some random storm-trooper unit you're talking about infiltrating. This is the Five-oh-first"

"So?" LaRone countered, trying to suppress his own private misgivings.

"The Five-oh-first puts their armor on one piece at a time just like we do."

Quiller hissed between his teeth. "You're crazy. You know that, right?"

"There've been rumors," LaRone conceded. "As long as we're all agreed,"

Quiller said with a sigh. "Fine. If you and Marcross are going to be crazy, we might as well all be crazy together. Next point: what do we do about Solo and Luke and the Wookiee?"

"Good question," Marcross agreed. "If Vader's looking for their friend, we really don't want them running around loose out there. Especially not with what they know about us."

"And it's for fussting sure they're not going to blend in with the Five-oh-first," Quiller added. "On the downside hand, I don't see an awful lot of other options. I doubt we're going to be able to keep them aboard. At least not without shooting them, which carries its own set of problems."

"Chief of which would be where exactly you shoot a Wookiee to be sure of bringing him down," LaRone said, an odd thought suddenly striking him.

"All right, try this. What if, instead of letting them run free, we give them an escort?"

The suggestion brought the exact reaction LaRone had suspected it would: both Quiller's and Marcross's mouths dropped open. Marcross found his voice first. "Quiller was right," he said. "You are crazy."

"Very likely," LaRone said. "But questions of mental health aside, why not? They'd be in the company of legitimate stormtroopers, thereby putting them above suspicion or interrogation by any of the local patrollers. And if we run into flak from Vader's troops, we claim they're our informants."

"Or prisoners we're taking to interrogation?" Quiller suggested.

"That works, too." LaRone hesitated. "And if worse comes to worst and we get caught in a gun battle, well, I doubt there'd be anything left for Vader to interrogate."

"Are you saying we'd shoot them?" Marcross asked flatly.

The ghosts of Teardrop flickered in front of LaRone's eyes. "Not us," he said firmly. "Against the Five-oh-first, I doubt we'd have to."

Quiller shook his head. "They'll never go for it, you know."

"Who won't go for it?" LaRone asked. "Solo and Luke, or Grave and Bright.w.a.ter?" "None of them will."

LaRone shrugged. "Well, we have until we land before we have to make any decisions," he said. "Maybe we'll come up with something better."

The chiming of the ship's proximity alarm, as Mara had prearranged, brought her out of the dreamless sleep of her Force healing trance. She had arrived at Shelkonwa.

For a moment she lay quietly on the ship's fold-down cot, taking quick inventory. She was hungry and thirsty, a typical side effect of healing trances, but the burns and sc.r.a.pes she'd received at the BloodScars' base were completely gone.

She headed to the c.o.c.kpit, snaring a couple of ration bars and a water bottle from the galley locker on the way. She had finished the first bar when the computer prompt pinged, and as she pulled the hyperdrive levers the hazy disk of Shelsha sector's capital world appeared in front of her against the starry blackness.

And floating in s.p.a.ce between her and the planet was possibly the last thing in the universe she'd expected to see.

Her comm crackled. "Incoming Z-10 Seeker, this is well, I doubt there'd be anything left for Vader to interrogate."

"Are you saying we'd shoot them?" Marcross asked flatly.

The ghosts of Teardrop flickered in front of LaRone's eyes. "Not us," he said firmly. "Against the Five-oh-first, I doubt we'd have to."

Quiller shook his head. "They'll never go for it, you know."

"Who won't go for it?" LaRone asked. "Solo and Luke, or Grave and Bright.w.a.ter?" "None of them will."

LaRone shrugged. "Well, we have until we land before we have to make any decisions," he said. "Maybe we'll come up with something better."

The chiming of the ship's proximity alarm, as Mara had prearranged, brought her out of the dreamless sleep of her Force healing trance. She had arrived at Shelkonwa.

For a moment she lay quietly on the ship's fold-down cot, taking quick inventory. She was hungry and thirsty, a typical side effect of healing trances, but the burns and sc.r.a.pes she'd received at the BloodScars' base were completely gone.

She headed to the c.o.c.kpit, snaring a couple of ration bars and a water bottle from the galley locker on the way. She had finished the first bar when the computer prompt pinged, and as she pulled the hyperdrive levers the hazy disk of Shelsha sector's capital world appeared in front of her against the starry blackness.

And floating in s.p.a.ce between her and the planet was possibly the last thing in the universe she'd expected to see.

Her comm crackled. "Incoming Z-10 Seeker, this is ship's defenses and directing Mara to the captain's personal hangar bay. An escort from Vader's own elite 501st Stormtrooper Legion was waiting, and after a short walk they arrived at a small conference room.

Vader was waiting, standing like a brooding storm cloud near the head of the table. "I understand you demanded to see me," he said without preamble.

"I apologize for my earlier tone," Mara said, inclining her head toward him in a gesture of humility.

"There is only one person in the Empire who can demand my presence,"