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| - “There's one thing I have to know,” Laera asked as she walked about the freshly battle-scarred Challenger along with Captain Tykus Findell and Colonel Salesh Bhatia. “How in all the burning suns of this galaxy did you even know we were out here?” The Star Destroyer commander was a lean man of just over average height, his black hair just barely starting to gray as he approached his forties, with a spark of keen intelligence in his light hazel eyes. The colonel's dark-skinned features were round and quite youthful, and it was easy to see why he belonged in command of Moonraker Squadron; his dark eyes skimmed everything but missed nothing. It had only been about twenty minutes after she and Silas had taken the mob of would-be citizen soldiers into the base to hash things out that the freighter, accompanied by three state-of-the-art landing craft, had alighted in the ancient starfighter landing plaza. It had taken some coaxing from Asyr to assure the port master and his people that this wasn't part of yet another trap, and so they had piled out to witness the tableau before them. It hadn't taken long for them to tell her about the running lightfight that had stretched from here to Antic Alshir. “The short version is that my ship was the closest,” Captain Findell replied easily, running a hand along a laser-carved furrow in the ventral hull. “To elaborate, over the last day and a half Alliance Intelligence has been inundated with reports about an old, supposedly obsolete freighter taking on pirates and being a general nuisance to anyone dumb enough to attack shipping out here. Ojoster sector isn't the safest place at the best of times, and these last few years haven't exactly been the Alliance's most peaceful.” “The kicker was a tipoff from the Terriks,” Colonel Bhatia added, his hands held behind his back in an air of mild interest as he spoke with a rolling accent. “It was Booster who forwarded your destination and hinted that you might get into trouble. As for how we knew where your friends would be...” “Perhaps I can answer that question,” Asyr Sei'lar said as she sauntered up to the group. “Booster and I rigged up the emergency subspace comm to the Alliance, and I activated it when it became clear that we couldn't do this on our own. Their timing, as it turned out, was quite fortuitous.” The warship captain nodded sagely. “We immediately lit off for the Alshir system at flank speed. Colonel Bhatia's Moonrakers needed more combat experience, and this was an interesting diversion from our routine patrol circuit.” “It's true,” the colonel shrugged, taking the quip in stride. “I fought against Colonel Solo's forces when he made his true colors apparent, but most of my people joined up after that little spat had ended.” Silas, who had been following several paces behind, stopped to look over a particularly nasty gash. “She may be old, but Challenger has it where it counts.” Laera, Asyr, and the two Alliance officers turned about to regard him. “I believe it,” the starfighter pilot replied, an easy grin on his face. “Your lady friend here led those raiders on quite the merry chase, she could've given any of Antilles' Rogues a run for their credits.” Silas and Laera shared a look, and Asyr shrugged indifferently. “Maybe so, but I wouldn't go for your betting flimsis just yet.” The Alliance officers, unsure what to make of the remark, simply inclined their heads respectfully. A comlink beeped, and the Star Destroyer captain retrieved the device from his belt. “Findell here.” There was a muttering from the communicator that the rest couldn't catch; whatever it was caused the captain's expression to change from one of polite bemusement to deep concern. “You're certain of this?” More muttering, then Findell's countenance became hard. “Right, thanks. I'll want a full report ready by the time we jump out of the system.” He replaced the comlink on his belt, then fixed the freighter crew, now joined by Ooryl, with a look that was a curious mix of admiration and resignation. “That was my intel chief,” he explained. “Seems the pirates we pulled off the Gallofree transports were quite willing to talk about themselves and this supposed crusade of theirs.” “The Jiphad, right?” Laera growled, crossing her arms over her chest. “We were just talking about how the colony lived under their thumb for the past two years.” The captain's look became one of disgust, but it didn't seem directed at anyone in his immediate vicinity. “Well, apparently this world isn't their first home, or their only one. We're going to be knee-deep in Jiphadists for some time to come, if their rantings are to be of any indication. There's a lot more surplus military hardware out there from the last seventy years of conflict than anyone in Alliance High Command wants to admit. I should know, I've spent the last ten years out here on the Rim hunting it down.” Laera and Silas pondered that for a few moments, the looks they shot each other out of the corners of their eyes communicating their mutual thoughts. Laera nodded, letting her companion speak for her. “Captain, are you familiar with the Marine Corps of the Old Republic?” the Bothan asked politely. The officer mulled that over for a few moments, then nodded fractionally. “A small bit of bedtime reading, yes,” he muttered. “Their founder was a pirate-hunter, that's how he got his name and ideas out there, apparently. The Republic formed a semi-autonomous service branch around the concepts he proposed, and they did a lot of the same kinds of dirty work that I do out here on the fringe. No doubt we have a lot in common, but that's all ancient history.” “Not so ancient as you might think,” Silas intoned, the corner of his mouth twitching with suppressed humor. “If you've got time to kill, we can tell you a little about ourselves and why we came all the way out here in the first place.” “I suppose that would be fair enough,” the captain replied. “My people aren't finished scouting the planet yet—we found your speeder, by the way—and I want to give the interrogators time to work our prisoners over a bit more.” Bhatia chuckled modestly. “I don't see why not.” — — — It was several hours later before the Alliance pulled up stakes and left the system, the last of the Davish Krail's landing craft dropping off Laera and Silas's speeder just before it headed out to rendezvous with its parent vessel. In a display of mutual respect and admiration, the pilots of Moonraker Squadron had performed a low flyover of the base, their Eta-5s gleaming in the late afternoon sun. The civilians who had accosted Laera and Silas after their diffusion of the WTF bomb had all gone home, save for the Zabrak port master and the Rodian, who had previously worked as his second-in-command and proprietor of the trading post. “What will you do now?” she asked as the crew of the Challenger walked the perimeter one last time. “I mean...if it wasn't for you, we'd...” Laera could understand her hesitancy. “If it wasn't for us, all this would actually be a smoking crater,” she said ruefully. “The pirates had armed a demo-nuke prior to their departure.” “I believe it,” the Zabrak agreed scornfully. “After what they did to me, I couldn't imagine them ever leaving without taking us with them, one way or another.” As they walked, Laera's thoughts drifted back to Ari, who still sat in her tiny quarters aboard their ship, deep in meditation. The Sa'ari had declined to join in the celebrations, muted as they had been by the fact that Bad Alshir's colonial population was generally poor, and she didn't blame her. With the all-clear signal having been sent out, it wouldn't be long before the team from Tendrando Arms arrived to look the base over. “If you would permit it, we would like to remain here,” Asyr said for the group. “We had no idea when we first arrived that your conditions were this grave; hopefully we will be able to help with that.” The port master looked dubious at first as he fixed the older Bothan with a look, but his expression lacked any sort of vehemence. “Not much we could do about it, not with her power,” he bit out, cocking a thumb at Laera. “Name's Ontok, Bao-Tus Ontok. The young lady here is Vela Wilee.” Silas nodded. “And now we all know each others' names.” “Sorry about earlier,” Laera said apologetically. “It was the only ethical thing I could do to make sure you didn't end up making a mistake.” Vela rubbed the back of her jade-green head in memory of the blow she had taken. “We were just scared, is all. Bao-Tus used to be a nice guy...” The Zabrak chuckled in spite of himself, his body language and aura relaxing noticeably. “Yeah, yeah, I used to be. But living on an occupied world, it changes you, you know?” Laera simply shook her head knowingly, not daring to speak frankly with the natives—not just yet, anyway. Fortunately, Silas seemed to notice the need for a response. “We've seen the effects before, yes,” he said, his tone conciliatory. “I'm sure we could work out an agreement for the use of this base, if you would care to listen once more to our offer.” “I wasn't expecting the Alliance to interrupt our meeting,” Bao-Tus commented idly. “Neither were we.” “Well, now is as good a time as any to seal the deal,” Asyr suggested. “You have to admit that the old base needs fixing up before it can be of any use, and we've got people on the way who can make it happen.” “Are you sure you want to set up out here, in the middle of nowhere?” Vela inquired, the dubiousness of her friend seemingly having transferred over to her. “This planet is garbage for the most part, not much mineral wealth and the biodiversity is yesterday's Hutt-food.” Laera's reply was firm yet understanding. “We're certain. This place was important to the Republic once, and it can be important again. That is why we truly came.” — — — It was another local day before the pioneer team from Tendrando Arms arrived in orbit above Bad Alshir. Ari was in the cockpit at the time, and it was she who called Laera to inform her. By chance, the two were alone aboard Challenger, the latter meditating while the former studied the freighter's control systems with the owner's manual close at hand. Silas, Asyr and Ooryl were in the base itself, looking around for whatever baubles they could find or else picking out quarters. “They are hailing us,” Ari said simply as Laera entered the cockpit. Laera bent over to flick the appropriate switch, and the voice of Lando Calrissian came over the cockpit speaker. “Well, looks like you found the place after all,” he remarked in that smoothly self-sure mannerism that he was apparently famous for. “And wonder of wonders, not a single pirate within a parsec.” “It wasn't exactly easy, no,” Laera began, but Lando's chuckling halted her. “It's okay, I have the preliminary Alliance report,” he replied. “One of the perks of being a government contractor, particularly when you're supplying the armed forces.” “So I can imagine,” Laera said dryly. “I have to say, I wasn't expecting you to come out here in person.” “Normally I wouldn't have, but someone forwarded a rather interesting history lesson my way. Tendra thought it was absolutely fascinating reading.” Laera barked a laugh. “I bet it was.” “What can I say? It's not every day you get the chance to speak to the dead.” Laera frowned, then put a serious note into her voice. “Actually Lando, I'm glad it's you calling. I've got another job, one that I can only entrust to you.” “Do your partners know about this?” Lando inquired, and Laera was satisfied to hear the businessman's grin melting away. “Silas does, the rest don't. And I'd like to keep it that way.” The line seemed to go dead for a few moments, then Lando's voice came back. “I've sent word to my people to start coming down and getting to work, so it's just you and me for now.” Ari gazed uncertainly at Laera, her visage a mute question that pondered the trustworthiness of the being who would take her home. Laera could only reply by nodding and placing a reassuring hand on Ari's shoulder as she gave Lando the details. “A covert ferry job?” he asked after Laera had briefed him and forwarded a set of coordinates. “There's nothing in that area of note, never mind an inhabited garden world. Are you sure about this?” “I'm sure,” Laera replied, finding to her surprise that the response was bittersweet. “If you agree, your passenger will be able to provide all the details you need. I can personally guarantee that there will be no Imperial entanglements.” Lando laughed heartily at that. “I've certainly heard that before!” he said after calming down. “But the new guy in charge is nice enough, so I'm inclined to believe you this time. So, who's the passenger?” “I am,” Ari said, her voice low, almost mournful. Lando, seemingly intrigued, poured on the charm with his reply. “Whoever you are, if your looks are as lovely as your voice, I would be more than happy to provide this service free of charge.” “Trust me when I say that you do not want to go down that road, Lando,” Laera advised. “Tendra won't be happy with where it goes.” “Relax, sweetheart, I was only joking,” Lando replied earnestly, and Laera could almost see the wink he shot her over the comm. “I'll take her myself aboard the Lady Luck, my personal yacht, once it's time to go. I came out here aboard her anyway, and she was made for slipping into places where she doesn't belong.” “Thanks Lando, it's appreciated. I'll see you on the ground—look for the blue-skinned woman as tall as a Wookiee.” “Likewise, Marine, and understood.” — — — Ten minutes later, the sound of incoming starships filled the air. Ari and Laera, noting the appearance of the two very different vessels on the visual scanners, got up from their seats and picked their way out of the cockpit and down the Challenger's boarding ramp. They were met there soon after by Asyr, Ooryl, Silas, Bao-Tus and Vela, who jogged out from wherever they had been lurking within the complex. The Zabrak and the Rodian, after a couple of late-hour brainstorming sessions with the Challenger crew, had agreed to become partners in Laera's fledgling organization. With the Jiphadist occupation lifted, they had stuck around to try and get their old command center back into some semblance of order. Silas looked up as the two ships circled the outpost for a bit, picking out landing spots. The smaller vessel landed near the Challenger, while the larger was forced to touch down in the field that had been established beyond the old defense perimeter. “Looks like Lando was good on his word,” he quipped. “That yacht sure does look nice.” “I'll get you one for your birthday, then,” Laera replied coyly. As the small group looked on, the yacht's outer hatchway opened and its boarding ramp lowered, allowing a dark-skinned, middle-aged Human male dressed in a rusty-red shirt, dark blue slacks, and a matching hip-cloak to disembark. Carrying himself jauntily, Lando Calrissian nodded and strode confidently toward them. “In the flesh at last,” he said, revealing dazzlingly white teeth as he extended his hand to Laera. “Tendra wanted to come as well, but she was called away by another matter.” “Her loss, I suspect,” Silas said, accepting the businessman's proffered arm after Laera had shaken it. “What did you think of the place coming in?” Lando laughed, then cast his eyes about the landscape. “I can understand why you needed to have it looked over before any plans were finalized. From the looks of it, I'd say a meteor shower took a good swipe at the entire area.” “More like a Mandalorian invasion,” Laera corrected him lightly, the hint of a grin dimpling her cheek. “Oh yes, that little incident,” he chuckled. “Time seems to have been kinder to it than those bucketheads.” “Hang on just a minute, don't I know you?” the port master interrupted, his yellow eyes boring in on the nattily-dressed Human. “Been about twenty-some years now, but you still owe me a speeder bike!” Lando held up his hands in protest. “Bao-Tus? But—I thought you'd been killed!” “Very nearly was, no thanks to you,” the Zabrak growled. “So you're a businessman now, gone straight, even got a fat contract with the Alliance, eh? You gonna ever pay up or have you forgotten your roots?” “No, I'm good for it,” Lando replied, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight. “Though we didn't bring any swoops or speeders this time, I'll make a note to get one loaded onto the next shipment.” “N-next shipment?!” “Yes, next shipment,” Asyr added, placing herself between the two former associates. “And we'll hold you to that, too, Calrissian.” “Hold it a sec,” Lando began, the expression on his face sliding from defensive to smoothly curious as he took in the Bothan female's appearance. “Don't I know you? And this Gand here, too?” “No,” Ooryl said, his voice neutral. “Gand does not believe that you know him.” Laera made a small gesture with her left hand as she held up her right. “It's not important, Lando,” she added softly, her voice seeming to drift slightly. “My partners and I are eager to get things started.” The businessman's countenance seemed to go vacant for the barest hint of a moment, then returned to his normal, boisterous smile as he sketched a small, regal bow. “Of course, we wouldn't want to hold things up any longer than we have to.” He pulled a concealed comlink from his belt, brought it to his lips, and thumbed it on. “Alright, let's put on the bazaar and get the architect and her engineers up here, we've got a deal to settle.” As he got a confirmation and put the device away, he nodded to the blue-skinned Sa'ari, the only one aside from Laera and Silas that the alien had allowed to notice. “If you're interested later on,” he whispered, “I'd be more than happy to give you a tour of my personal vessel...” Fin
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