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Over the first months with the Survivors, I spent most of my time dirtdown in Vlarnya, which is about as thrilling as it sounds. The days got hot enough that most folks spent their time in the semi-sunken cantinas that served as informal squadron homes. The Survivors primarily hung out at the Crash cantina. The decor was rather ghoulish-pilots would bring in bits and pieces of debris from kills or from crashes they'd survived. Chunks of transparisteel or Quadanium alloy hung from the ceiling and, in the dim light, presented navigational obstacles for even folks as small as I am. Timmser actually gashed her forehead in there before she got used to negotiating the debris-maze.
I visited the Crash regularly, but tended to spend a fair amount of my free time wandering through Vlarnya. Aside from the Aviary-the indigs'
name for the district where the pilots tended to reside-Vlarnya looked like pretty much any other marginal town dependent on s.p.a.ceport trade for its survival. The fields outside of town grew enough fresh vegetables that the prices for them weren't wholly outrageous. Vlarnya had no native industries-cantinas and gambling establishments don't really scan that way to me-save for a local brewery that turned out a decent lomin-ale-type product. It was good enough, in fact, that all seven of the pirate crews working out of Vlarnya declared it-and the fields where it grew the things that went into the ale-a no-fly zone to reduce the chances of an aerial accident destroying it.
At night, when things began to cool off and the twin moons came up, I liked walking through the streets. Vlarnya had a small-town feel to it.
While the s.p.a.ceport had been built to Imperial specifications, the city itself had been crafted by local masons and workers using a lot of native material. The streets twisted and turned, snaking through narrow canyons with buildings on both sides, then opening out into small squares that had fountains in the center. The lack of a lot of munic.i.p.al lighting meant most alleys were sunk in pitch blackness at night, but this was Vlarnya, so alleys weren't too dangerous, unless you were wandering through the Aviary.
Caet Shrovl occasionally joined me while I wandered. Her condition made her very sensitive to light, so if she came out during the day, she wore a cloak that completely covered her and donned goggles dark enough to turn noon into the void of s.p.a.ce. While she was very private, I did learn that she considered her albinism the fault of the Empire, since her mother had once been used in some sort of experiment by Imperial scientists. The Survivors were known to have a strong hatred for the Empire, so she had come to them and endured life on Courkrus for the chance to shoot up Imperials.
Through her I also discovered how Remart Sasyru had been voted out of the unit and into Bolt Squadron. She and I were seated back in one of the Crash's darker corners, comparing data on our flights' performances in a series of exercises, when Remart sauntered over toward our table. He came on slow, with a deliberate gait that allows his hips and shoulders to swivel slowly. It was definitely a strut-he was there to be seen, and seen as stalking prey. He wore his grey uniform trousers, black boots and a sleeveless grey tunic that had to be about four sizes too small because it was tight enough to show off every muscle and rib he possessed.
He gave me a cold smile. "Spending time with her? Watch you don't get tiqcs."
I looked up from my ale mug. "Funny, she says she hasn't been bothered since you bolted. Coincidence? Can't be."
Remart looked at me, a bit surprised. He'd intended the jibe to sting Caet, but I'd deflected it. I could feel the anger rising in her, and traces of fear in there, too, but didn't know why. I did decide real quickly, however, that she didn't need to be provoked and that I could prevent it.
I slid my chair back noisily. "What's the matter, Sasyru? You offer a smart remark and can't handle a riposte? Or did my comment go over your head? Let me explain it, then. See, she hasn't been bothered by vermin since you went away from Rock Squadron. That means, in my opinion, you're a carrier of vermin. Does that break it down enough for you?"
Shock widened Remart's blue eyes, then he recovered himself and posted his gloved hands on his hips. He laughed aloud, filling the sound void in the room. "Trust a Corellian to lead with his mouth and to venture in where he is not wanted."
I stood. "What, no quick shot about how Corellians have no use for odds, so they don't know when they're stacked against them? No joke about the most famous Corellian being named Solo' because no Corellian will trust another Corellian? What other unoriginal and older-than-the-Empire slur could you have offered? Oh, yes, how about suggesting that Leia Organa took up with a Corellian because, hey, after the destruction of Alderaan, she had nothing else to lose."
I moved out from behind the table. "How about this one? How many Corellians does it take to change a glowpanel?" I glanced at Timmser sitting at another table, but she shrugged. "None! If the room's dark, you can't see Corellians cheating at sabacc!"
That brought some laughter from the surrounding tables and even Caet began to relax. "You know why so many Corellians used to get caught and sent to Kessel?"
Remart's eyes narrowed. "Because they were stupid?"
"No, they were lonely for the rest of their family!" I snapped my fingers at him. "C'mon, Remart, you gotta be quicker than that. A Corellian bought a nek as a pet, but it was so stupid it kept running into walls.
What did he name it?" The taller man shook his head.
"Remart?' I smiled as I took a step toward him. "He couldn't think of a stupider name."
Because of the Force, I knew Remart's right fist was coming even before he knew he was going to throw it. I twisted slightly to my own right and brought my head around so the punch didn't land with full impact. I still felt it-it worked my jaw around good-but it didn't drop me to the floor the way it should have.
I turned my head slowly back toward him and smiled. "By the Emperor's black bones, you hit like a Chadra-Fan. No report, this time." I waved him away contemptuously and started back toward my table. "Come back some other time after you learn how to throw a punch."
I felt him coming at my back, so I turned quickly to the right and stepped laterally toward him, directly along his line of attack. I hit him with a stiflened finger-blow square in the throat. He gurgled and staggered back, more surprised than hurt, and struggled to stay up on his feet. He backed a few more steps, then leaned heavily on a table with two other Bolt pilots seated at it.
I noted, with satisfaction, that they sidled away from him.
I pointed at him. "I gave you one punch for free. Never again. You leave me and the rest of Rock Squadron alone. You aren't part of it anymore, so what we do is of no concern to you. You say anything to my people-beyond asking permission to get your disgusting form out of their sight-and we'll have it out, you and I. You understand that?"
Without waiting for an answer, I looked at the other two Bolts at that table. "Get him out of here-I've got your tab-and tell Captain Gurtt I'll speak with her on this matter at her convenience."
I returned to my chair and pulled it back up to the table. I picked up my ale mug, drank, then kept it in front of my mouth as I glanced at Caet.
"Hope you didn't find that embarra.s.sing. I know you could have taken him."
The white s.h.i.+stavanen shook her head and one of her ears rotated in my direction. "Gallant. Grateful." I noticed the fiber-plast table had little curls of material where her claws had gouged parallel furrows down to the edge. "Old foe, never learned 'no.'"
I nodded and drank some more, killing the dryness in my mouth and throat.
"I'm surprised you voted him into the Bolts."
"Couldn't kill him, so we got him out that way." Caet regarded me carefully. "He was a bully and animal. Kech was afraid. Remart wanted fame, money, power. He was good pilot so didn't die. Good enough for Bolts, so we sent him."
I lowered my mug. "His coming back here to pick on you means the Bolts aren't putting up with his antics. Why did he come for you?"
She glanced down and a low growl rolled from her throat.
I raised my left hand. "S'okay, I don't need to know."
Caet stood and pulled her cloak on. "Walk."
"As ordered." I drained my ale, then walked over to Timmser and handed her a stack of mismatched coins. "You get my tab, the Bolts' tab and one round for the Rocks, right?"
"I copy." Timmser gave me a quick smile. "Nice work there, Jen."
"Don't try to repeat it." I winked at her. "And three flight will be at the training center at dawn, and you'll have my change."
I followed Caet out into the cool night and we began wandering aimlessly, though the growl in my stomach told me I'd want some food soon. "Nice night, isn't it?"
She nodded and peered off at the dueling crescent moons.
"Peace. Nice to know peace some."
"I'd like to hope, someday, there will be more peace than war in the galaxy."
"With that dream, you are in wrong place." Her lips peeled back in a grin, flas.h.i.+ng lots of white teeth. "No peace from Remart."
I shrugged. "He's sneaky and, deep down, a coward. I'm not worried about him, though."
"He came for me because he broke me." Caet fell silent after that admission and I thought she'd used up her quota of words for the day. I let the silence hang between us, not pressing, because I knew she'd say nothing more. It was almost as if she were resting up after the ordeal of making so open a statement, and preparing to be battered by me for it.
A couple of blocks later, down curving hilly streets that took us well away from the Aviary, she spoke again. "Charmed me. He became friend. He sat with me in the dark. He did not draw me out like you. He worked his way in."
I frowned. "What did he want?"
"Possession. I am apart from everyone. Isolated."
"Because of your photosensitivity."
"And raising. My mother was the only s.h.i.+stavanen I knew young." She hesitated, groping for words. "When we came to Uvena 3, she was home. I was in new place. My scent was not right, you understand?"
"You were different. It became easy for others to pick on you." I reached out gently and rested my left hand on her right shoulder. "You let Remart know this, and he turned it against you."
"False friend. Made demands." I could feel tension start her body trembling, but she quelled it quickly. "I rejected him. He beat me.
Badly. Fear and pain. I was happy to vote him out."
I gave her shoulder a little squeeze. "Your confidence is safe with me."
"I know." She turned toward me and I saw a crescent moon reflected in her eyes. "You hide pain, secrets, too." I blinked. "How do you know?"
"I am s.h.i.+stavanen enough to read sign." Her grin returned. "You walk alone. You do not visit, seek companions.h.i.+p. You do not drink more than is needed to make you fit in."
I gave her a quick smile. "Quite the detective. Of what am I guilty?"
"You have lover away. You look for reunion or redemption."
That stopped me. "You're a very good tracker."
"So, I think, why are you here?" She sniffed twice, quickly.
"Your lover is not an Invid."
I shook my head, wondering how close to the truth I could come without jeopardizing my entire mission. I decided I had to skirt the truth by a wide margin, but quickly built up a story that would suffice. "Her cousin controls the Tinta line, and has decreed that my lover cannot be with me without having her whole branch of the family cut off from the Tinta fortune. I am greasier than Hutt slime in her eyes, and considered to be after my lover's wealth alone. I want to destroy the Tintas, and I see being an Invid as the way to do it. I want them to know I am the instrument of their destruction, and I want to have their wealth in my pockets when I take my lover away from her poverty-stricken family."
Caet sniffed once more, then gave out with a sharp yip.
"Fools fight for love, the wise for money."
"Thanks, I think."
"Bold plan. You will need to be True Invid to accomplish it." I caught a whiff of something cooking from further down the street and headed toward it. "What do you mean by True Invid?"
"Crew on s.h.i.+p." She fell into step with me. "Two ways. Merit in combat."
"That can be done."
"Not as Rock. We are ignored. Bolts are not." A playful growl rolled from her throat. "Bolt you can become."
"I hope so. What's the other method?"
"Berth duty."
I shook my head. "I don't understand."
Caet reached out and caught my chin in her right hand. She turned my face to the left and nodded. "Minimal scar. You might do."
"Excuse me?"
Another yip. "Admiral Tavira has appet.i.te for men. You can become True Invid that way, too."
I nodded and she released my chin. Becoming a True Invid and joining the crew of the Invidious was the final step in locating Mirax. As a crew member I'd learn where the Impstar went between attacks. I knew, at that location, I would find Mirax. I would do what it took to get there and save her, I had no doubt in my mind.
"So, Caet, tell me," I smiled as I waved her toward the small restaurant from which the scent of food emanated, "just what do we do to make me a Bolt?"
Caet laid out a very simple plan to boost me into the ranks of Bolt Squadron, but we ran into some unexpected complications over the next several months. The first, and most frustrating, was the paucity of challenging missions for us. While the Invidious made a number of forays out, the Survivors weren't always chosen to accompany Tavira's taskforce.
The Red Nova crew, the LazerLords, the Fastblast crew, Riistar's Raiders, the Blackstar pirates and even Shala the Hutt's gang got their chances to go on missions. Rotating the forces kept them all sharp and let everyone know they were not indispensable.
Even when the Survivors were sent out, Rock Squadron didn't always go on the mission. Except when Tavira called for the Bolts specifically, Nive chose among us by lot. Rock Squadron got roughly one Invid mission per month. On our other missions we flew cover for smaller s.h.i.+ps, much in the same way the Red Nora's people had flown cover for the Booty Full. Rogue Squadron never jumped us, but on one of our Invid missions the Invidious vanished from the system shortly after arrival. We found ourselves fighting with a fighter group of Y-wings and homegrown Uglies in that engagement and lost two pilots from one flight, including Captain Kech.
If there had been New Republic capital s.h.i.+ps waiting at the edge of the system, I saw no evidence of them, nor was there any trace in the sensor data I pulled from Backstab. After vanquis.h.i.+ng the local fighters, we strafed a settlement and looted some warehouses, but even with a couple of bulging shuttles, the raid had hardly seemed worth it.
It was only later, when Rock Squadron elected me Captain, that I learned from Jacob Nive that the Invidious had headed out because another Invid operation had run into trouble and Tavira wanted to ambush the ambushers.
The threat to us had not been dire enough to cause her to stick around, and I couldn't disagree. In the other situation three New Republic corvettes had engaged some Invid freighters and fighters, then withdrawn when the Invidious showed up.
It took a couple of weeks, but I learned details on that other operation.
Shala's gang had been in position to take off a spice s.h.i.+pment in the Kessel system when the New Republic s.h.i.+ps had appeared. They had a running lightfight for twenty minutes, during which one of Shala's freighters took damage, lost maneuvering, and sailed off to be sucked into the Maw-the big black hole near Kessel. At roughly that point in the battle, the Invidious arrived and drove the New Republic s.h.i.+ps away, all but killing the Freedom of Sull.u.s.t.
This rescue increased the fame of the Invidious and general sense of immortality among the crews, but it sent a chill down my spine. It struck me as unlikely that the New Republic would send three corvettes into a system where they expected to run into the Invidious. Three corvettes wouldn't be unusual for a patrol, especially with old Imps like Teradoc and Harssk or Admiral Daala still hyping around. My gut told me the corvettes had happened on Shala's people by accident.
That's not so terrifying, but the implication of the Invidious getting there in time to save Shala was. The flank speed time from the system where we were to Kessel was eighteen hours, and that was if the astrogator wanted to pull a Solo and skirt the fringes of the Maw. That meant that somehow Admiral Tavira knew of a chance meeting eighteen hours in advance and hustled her s.h.i.+p along to get her there. The fact that it would have been just as easy to open a HoloNet connection with Shala and warn him off the Kessel run meant that Tavira clearly liked the idea of a split second rescue. Her solution definitely enhanced her reputation among us, and had to have been that much more galling to the New Republic.
The question was, however, how did she know the trouble would be taking place eighteen hours in the future? There seemed only one answer to me: the advisor Exar Kun had showed me near her was adept in using the Force and warned her of Shala's peril. I'd sensed no overt Force usage from the Invidious, but I was keeping myself as shut down on missions as I'd been when approaching Exar Kun's temple, so it wasn't much of a surprise that I wasn't picking anything up.
Under my leaders.h.i.+p, with Timmser heading up three flight and Caet in charge of two flight, Rock Squadron got good. We weren't the Bolts, but we weren't so far behind them that they should have felt complacent. I tightened up our training methods and broke pilots of bad habits. By making them better, I increased my chances of attracting Tavira's notice, and that brought me closer to finding and freeing Mirax.
The primary advantage the Bolts had over us was in the area of combat hours, but our average was quickly approaching theirs. They tended to get included in more Invid missions, which carried a lot of prestige, but the Invid's presence often stopped opposition before it started. The resulting lack of fatalities among the Bolts meant my avenue to that path effectively remained blocked.
Blocked, that was, until the Xa Fel mission. Xa Fel, a world in the Kanchen Sector, served the Kuat Drive Yards as a major manufacturer of stars.h.i.+p hyperdrives. Grand Admiral Thrawn targeted the world for the same reason Tavira hit it: ready-made hyperdrives were a boon to anyone who could get away with them. Because of her connections within the Imperial community, Tavira could find countless warlords willing to purchase them and make them beholden to her at the same time. I a.s.sumed the latter reason was even more of a motivator than the former.
The seriousness of the a.s.sault was underscored by Admiral Tavira specifying Bolt, Hawk and Rock Squadrons from the Survivors, and allowing us to come up to the Invidious and s.h.i.+p aboard the Star Destroyer for the run in at the world. Corvettes and bulk cruisers accompanied us in a huge task force, with Slash Squadron covering Backstab and the other crews from Courkrus similarly having fighter cover. The grouping of s.h.i.+ps was the largest task force I'd ever seen while with the Invids and underscored how serious Tavira was about staging this raid.
The three Survivor squadrons aboard the Invidious were each paired with one of the Invidious' native clutch squadrons. Their pilots and ours eyed each other suspiciously. I noticed on a couple of them the red sleeves that marked them as once having served in the 181st Imperial Fighter Group, but nothing else indicated these pilots were anything special. All of us hoped for a chance to prove ourselves against them, though chances were that anyone with access to a fighter on Xa Fel would keep it on the ground.
I wasn't really looking forward to the raid for two reasons. The first was that Xa Fel had been so badly polluted by the Kuat Drive Yards'
factories that even visiting could be painful. Breather masks and protective clothing were recommended, and while my clutch pilot's outfit might suffice, spending time down on that hot rock in my environmental gear did not sound like fun. While I had no intention of getting shot down or cras.h.i.+ng, when looking at a potential survival situation, I hate the idea of having to battle a world for my life.
The second reason was one that plagued me with each mission, and had been a concern even back during undercover operations with CorSec. I had to ask myself where I drew the line in what I was going to do to fit in with the Invids. In a CorSec undercover operation the lines of responsibility were very clear: I could partic.i.p.ate in crimes against property, but once any person was under threat of death or serious bodily injury, my duty to protect them kicked in. Here with the pirates, things were nowhere near so clear or clean.
I encouraged my squadron to use ion cannons, noting that hardware we didn't destroy we could always haul back to Cour-krus. I'd even had two Headhunters with hyperdrives salvaged from one raid and was having my unit's tech looking into finding a way to mount the drive on my clutch.
The better pilots among my people followed my lead, but I still had two or three who went for lasers in dogfights.
On ground attack missions I stressed minimizing attacks on civilian targets. "Yeah, a refueling station might blow up really pretty, and might even set half a city on fire, but that's not the object here." I shook my head in a briefing session. "Look, you can kill a woolly-nerf and make a coat out of its skin, or you can shear the beast's coat and come back year after year for more wool. We play this right, six months from now we show up in the system, send a list of demands and they'll freighter the loot out to US."
Most of my pilots seemed to get the message and only a couple of times did we have to run some of the other Invids away from our zones of control. Once I caught Remart poaching on a lonely stretch of roadway, just blasting landspeeders for the simple pleasure he found in murder. I put an ion bolt into his clutch and commed to Captain Gurtt to recall him, which she did. I also attached his portion of the loot from the raid and had it sent to the families of the people he'd killed as recompense.