The bounty hunter stepped off the rampway of his ship and allowed his cobalt coloured eyes to scan the horizon at the city lying before him. As cities went, this one was hardly impressive. Then again, he did not expect it to be anything else. He stared up at the twin suns and felt its heat burn into his skin, but it was not especially uncomfortable. He was accustomed to such temperatures. He grew up on Tatooine and was used to fighting Tusken Raiders to keep them from destroying the moisture vaporators on the farm he was indentured. A part of him could not imagine growing up in such a place, but he had. He was born a slave. He remembered his mother vaguely and since being human was not exactly a valuable commodity in the eyes of a Hutt, he was sent to work in one of Jabba's many moisture farms.
Vin Tanner shook his head of such old memories, neither liking nor disliking them. He remained oddly detached about his past, relieved only his tenure as livestock had ended. The best thing about being stuck out on a moisture farm was Jabba forgot you existed and eventually, he learned how to remove the restraints keeping slaves trapped in servitude. Removing them allowed him to leave Tatooine forever. Securing the access lock on the main hatch of his ship, the Tracker, he continued his descent from the ramp and stepped onto the baked earth of Cordoba, the parched world where his latest bounty was presently waiting for him to claim.
In truth, he didn’t want to take this job, but the men who came to him gave him little choice in the matter. Find the target or be satisfied with never being able to go near a civilized star system again. Vin did not have much use for company, but he had no wish to be a marked man either. Besides, when Imperial agents made such an offer, one did not refuse without an excellent reason. What he could not understand was why the Empire was not handling this themselves.
Didn’t they have agents who dealt with the Jedi?
For Vin, he hardly even believed they existed even though like everyone else, he heard the stories. There was said to be a time when the Jedi ruled supreme throughout the galaxy, and they brought peace and justice to many worlds. A youth growing up in Tatooine as a slave did not have the patience to believe in such tales. No Jedi ever came to rescue him from his prison and what he achieved, he did so because Vin decided he would. The galaxy was a hard place, and by the time Vin escaped the desert world to see it for himself, the Jedi War was already over.
It began with the rise of Senator Palpatine to the position of Chancellor in the Republic Senate. Already starting to collapse under its own weight, the added strife of corruption and too much bureaucracy was making its doom an inevitability. Palpatine promised to remove the rot from the Senate. His idealism brought many supporters who believed in the dream of the Republic and wished to see it returned to its former glory.
Unfortunately, Palpatine’s promises and his real plans bore minimal resemblance to each other.
Once firmly entrenched in power, he established himself as Emperor and though the rumours intimated he might have been a Sith Lord, those who attempted to verify it did not live long enough to find out the truth. The galaxy Vin Tanner knew was one where the Empire ruled with an iron fist and a Jedi Knight was something to be hunted down and killed.
A Jedi supposedly lived in Cordoba. Not a Jedi Master but a Jedi Knight of the First Order.
The Imperial agents claimed those who came for the man, usually died in the process but should Vin Tanner succeed in his efforts, he would be very well compensated. Vin had no fears of dying, but he could not ignore the superstition at going after a Jedi. The Empire came to him because Vin was the best there was. He could track over desert, a craft mastered from the Tusken Raiders who accepted him as one of their own, once they discovered he was almost as hardy as they were. It was easy enough to apply the same methodology to tracking other things across different terrains, and from the onset of his career, his ability to bring in a bounty was uncanny.
Still, hunting Jedi was dirty work, and if it were not for the fact his freedom would be in jeopardy, Vin would have turned down the Empire. A part of him was also curious to see a Jedi. It was why he and his ship journeyed to the part of the galaxy known as the Territory. It was uncharted and beyond the reach of what was considered Imperial boundaries, it was the galactic wilderness. People who came to Cordoba, came to hide, and it made sense a Jedi wishing to lose himself in anonymity when the rest of his kind were being hunted into extinction, might find refuge here.
However, a Jedi could not stay hidden for long and the one he sought, whose wife and child were murdered because a child of Jedi could not be allowed to live, was one of the greatest. The Imperial agents who endowed him with this duty claimed the Jedi was from Alderaan, a veteran of the Clone Wars, a warrior in every sense of the word. Vin could not imagine a warrior disappearing into the wilderness while the rest of his kind were being murdered. It reeked of cowardice.
Whatever the reasons, Vin sighed as he left the docking bay and his ship, he supposed he would find out when he met Chris Larabee.
******
At the same time, Vin Tanner was making his departure from the main spaceport on Cordoba, former Imperial officer Captain Nathan Jackson was entering the vast complex to carry out business of equal importance. Reminded numerous times by his Alliance contacts, security was foolproof, Nathan could not help being apprehensive. With the ashes of the Republic still relatively new, loyalties were indistinct. Some were still dubious about the storm predicted by the almost extinct Jedi, but also from former members of the Senate now in hiding from the Emperor.
However, the newly formed Rebel Alliance was not content to wait for the darkness to come. They were already given ringside views on the collapse of the Republic and the establishment of an Empire, something unheard of in almost ten thousand years of galactic unification. The idea of one man having complete autonomy over trillions of life forms did not bode well for the future. Then there were also the rumours Palpatine being that most terrifying of creatures, a Sith Lord. A tale given credence by Palpatine's hatred of the Jedi and his systematic annihilation of every one of them, down to their very bloodline.
Nathan remembered seeing the Jedi Council building when he was visiting Coruscant with his father as a child. Even though he underwent the tests and learned he was not Force adept, Nathan always admired the Order. Those who became Jedi had powers beyond comprehension, and yet they chose to serve those who did not. Though he was disappointed he was not adept, Nathan learnt there were other ways to defend the weak. He was a soldier with a fascination with the healing arts. Even though he would never be content being anything else, he was mildly surprised at his capacity to tend wounds and diagnose illness.
But things had changed considerably now.
Protecting those who were weaker as a soldier was no longer conducive to the current policies of the Empire. While the general population had no idea what was coming at them, the members of the Rebel Alliance through the rogue senators, had some idea of Palpatine's long term plans for the galaxy. Even as he turned his back on Coruscant and his commission, non-human members of the military were being forced out. The policy of segregation though not set in stone, was being adopted already. In governmental positions, anyone who was not human was being ejected quietly out of the bureaucracy.
The policy of segregation did not merely involve the removal of non-human races from positions of power. Its full implementation was something so horrific those who heard it, could not even begin to imagine its reality.
For as long as the Republic lived, its most basic tenet was the inalienable right of all creatures to exist, sentient beings no matter what shape or form would be afforded equal freedoms in the eyes of the law. Palpatine's policy of segregation would soon change all that. The Empire intended making slavery of non-human species legal. Already earmarked for annexation was Kashyyyk, the Wookie homeworld.
The Wookies, a proud and fierce race, was slated to become a hard-labour workforce. Unfortunately, with most worlds relying on what was once the Republic Star Fleet to protect their borders, they were ill-equipped to stop the invasion of the Imperial Fleet. The Imperial Fleet with its star destroyers and legions of stormtroopers who would most likely take part in the conquest of Kashyyyk, and there would be nothing to stop them.
Except maybe the Rebel Alliance.
Despite its existence, the new Alliance was in no position to halt a military invasion of that size. The movement was new, and its chief benefactor being Alderaan. The manpower and resources required to prevent the military annexation of Kashyyyk simply did not exist. As difficult as many members of the Alliance found it to accept, they could not intervene. Still, even in its infancy, the Rebel Alliance was not wasting time. The Alliance was consolidating all its personnel and forces. The main rebel base would be located on Dantooine for now but Mon Mothma felt it was best to establish resistance cells across the galaxy, scattering their leaders and their forces so even if one were to fall, the movement would still live.
Which was why Nathan was here at the main spaceport at this time, awaiting the arrival of a small freight ship that would be arriving from Corellia. He glanced at the chronometer on his wrist and noted the craft would soon be docking at its appointed berth. Nathan would prefer it to be sooner rather than later. As he navigated through the massive facility, he felt a twinge of sadness, watching the diverse collection of faces moving through the spaceport, on their way from one destination to the other. Humans, Rodians, the spiritual Ithorians or Hammerheads, and even a Jawa, though Nathan had to wonder what a Jawa was doing so far from the Dune Sea.
The spaceport was the nexus for travel and commercial activity for most of Cordoba. Most travellers to the world did not emerge past this point for the climate beyond was so inhospitable, most prefer to conclude their business and hop the first ship heading out of the system. As he walked past the numerous bars and restaurants, he could see them negotiating with each other, engaging in all sorts of enterprises, establishing trade talks, selling rancor skin pelts, offering the latest piece of hardware from the core worlds. Despite its out of the way place in the galaxy, Nathan liked Cordoba, he liked its eclectic feel because here most of all, was what the Republic had been, diverse.
Arriving at the docking bay where the ship he awaited was about to land, Nathan cast a gaze across the length of the wide corridor he was presently standing within. Although he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he could not shake the feeling perhaps things were not as benign as they seemed. Imperial spies took many shapes, and the person Nathan was meeting was simply too important to lose at this early juncture in the movement. He saw peddlers selling their wares from blankets on the floor to passing travellers, spaceport maintenance men going about their business and just the general flux of people that seemed to frequent such places. If there was danger here, he did not see it and allowed himself to rest a little easier.
Through the plexiglass screen separating the corridor from the docking bay he was waiting at, he saw the ship finally making its arrival. It was an Incom Corsair, more accustomed to ferrying passengers than freight but judging by the accessories attached to its hull, Nathan guessed its pilot spent some credits outfitting it for that purpose. The ship was not exactly new but was no piece of junk either. The custom designed turbo engines he observed, indicated the ship would give Imperial TIE fighters a run for its money should it ever need the speed.
The ship called the Rogue, in Nathan's opinion, reflected the personality of its pilot perfectly. Nathan decided it would be a prudent safety measure for the person he was meeting to arrive on Cordoba in a private freighter. The pilot knew how to get around custom officials, and Nathan trusted the man explicitly. They served together on the Republic ship Griffin, and the man was still the best star pilot Nathan knew. The Corellian chose to retire when Palpatine came to power, having saved enough to buy his ship and began his reputation as one of the best freighter captains around.
Nathan watched the Corsair land and glanced around once again to see if anything suspicious had appeared since the last two minutes he surveyed the area. He realized he was a little paranoid, but now Nathan was so close to his objective, he did not want anything to go wrong because he let down his guard. When the ship's engines powered down, and the door to the docking bay allowed him entry, Nathan immediately stepped inside the berth just as the ship’s hatch slid open.
She did not look like he expected, but then Nathan was not sure what he had in mind when he was told the new leader of the local rebel cell was arriving on Cordoba.
Nathan supposed he expected someone older and seasoned, someone, who fitted the image of what a commander of an Imperial warship ought to look like. For a moment, Nathan simply stared at her and wondered if she was the person he had been sent to escort back to her new command. Whether or not she minded his scrutiny, she did not say. Still when she walked down the ramp, her eyes studied him just as carefully as he was doing to her.
She was not very old. Not much more than thirty Nathan suspected. He recalled hearing she was one of the youngest commanders in the fleet, but now, he had no idea how young. To say the woman was beautiful would be an understatement, she was stunning. She wore long golden hair that hung down
her back in a thick braid and blue-grey eyes reminding him of a bird's. The long dark robe she wore covered up the rest of her, but her movements were graceful, and she seemed to glide off the ramp when she approached him.
"Commander Travis?" Nathan asked once he remembered his manners.
"Yes," she nodded with a smile. "You must be Captain Jackson." She extended her hand to him in a friendly handshake, which Nathan immediately accepted.
"How was your trip?" Nathan inquired, even though he suspected with her looks, it would have been anything but uneventful.
"Without incident. Your choice of pilot was...interesting." A little smile crossed her face as she met his gaze.
"There is no excuse for him." Nathan apologized automatically. "But he is one of the best pilots there is, except when it comes to the opposite sex. Then he has the self-control of a five-year-old."
"Hey," a voice objected in mock hurt. "I resent that remark."
Nathan turned to Buck Wilmington and grinrfn. "I was being kind."
"Thanks a lot." The freighter captain pulled off his flight gloves while making his way down the ramp towards them. Both men met in a friendly embrace and though it was some time since they saw each other, it felt as if little time had passed. "After all the trouble I went through making sure this charming lady had a trouble-free trip." As he said that, he took the commander's hand in his and gently kissed her knuckle.
"Thank you, Buck. It was pleasant. I haven't been wined and dined in quite some time."
"Weren't you supposed to be flying the ship?" Nathan shook his head. Somehow the idea of Buck trying to romance Commander Travis, who was clearly too good for him, amused Nathan to no end.
"There is such a thing as auto-pilot, you know." Buck gave him a look.
"Perhaps we should go," the commander interrupted before her virtue came into question.
"Yes, we should." Nathan readily agreed. Although Buck was perfectly aware of Nathan's loyalties these days and was a rebel sympathizer, Nathan had no wish to endanger Buck by lingering too long. Buck provided a valuable service to the Rebel Alliance, often at no charge at all and Nathan had no desire to see that resource come to an end, not to mention risk Buck's life. "Buck, until next time."
"You take care." Buck's playful expression became sober and he patted Nathan gently on the shoulder. "Its hard times out there."
"You too, you ol' star pilot."
"Mary," Buck turned his attention to the lovely blond who was such good company, although not as good as he would have liked. "It has been a pleasure."
"Likewise Buck," she said genuinely meaning it. "You're staying in Cordoba?"
"For a day or so. There's an old friend I want to look up."
Nathan knew exactly whom he was talking about. "A word of caution Buck, he's not the man you remember."
Buck let out a soft sigh. "I know, but he saved my life more than once, and I'm not about to give up on him."
"He must be a good friend," Mary was unaware of the specifics but just by the look in his eyes, could tell it was someone Buck cared about a great deal.
With an expression of profound sadness that touched the rebel leader's, Buck answered with a little smile. "I hope he still is."
*****
The boy wandered off the large passenger cruiser, completely enthralled.
It was the first time he had been anywhere. True, Cordoba could hardly be considered the centre of the galaxy, but at this moment, it was the largest and most populous place the young man had ever been to in his life. Despite his attempt not to look like an innocent for the taking, he could not help feeling awed by everything he was seeing after stepping off the liner bringing him here. Anyone who cast their gaze upon him knew without a doubt, he was fresh off the farm, literally.
Although he was no farmer, he was a pod racer.
Not just a pod racer but rather the best there was on the remote world of Odete, where he spent most of his youth with the mother who raised him. Thinking about her saddened him, but he was not about to let his sorrow overwhelm him further. He was someone with dreams, and he was going somewhere. A person going places could not afford to be hampered down by memories of the mother who had gone to the next life only weeks ago, leaving a farm worth barely anything, to which he was only too happy to sell to buy passage off-world.
He had gotten this far on his dreams and a plan. A plan he nurtured for as long as he remembered, the one where he would leave the rural world of Odete and make his way to Coruscant, where the real money of pod racing was made. He imagined himself being pitted against the very best the galaxy had to offer and he knew he could be counted as one of their number.
All he had to do was get to Coruscant.
Of course, while his mother was alive, he would not even entertain the notion and for a long time, felt like he was spinning his wheels on the farm. Still, he could never feel resentment towards her. While she was alive, she had been his entire world, and now she was gone, the void left behind was more than he could stand, which was why he hastily sold everything to leave the pain behind.
He did not have a fortune on him, but he did have money and the plan that brought him this far now required him to find passage to Coruscant, where he was sure some pod owner would discover him and set him on the path to glory. The young man wandered the long corridors of the spaceport, seeking passage to Coruscant by way of the numerous freighters using this place as their base of operation. The liner that took him this far was only a local carrier because big passenger liners, the ones servicing the core worlds did not come to Cordoba. If he were going to Coruscant, he would have to hire a ship to take him there.
Wandering into the bar he was told by one of the people at customs, was the local haunt for freighter pilots, the young man no more than eighteen years of age, felt a swell of apprehension when he noted the atmosphere in the tavern. There was only one word to describe it, and to his knowledge, it was a word he never had cause to use before. Sleazy. The place was sleazy. Swallowing visibly and trying not to feel any more out of place than he already was, the youth entered the dimly-lit establishment and headed towards the bar, trying not to stare at the different life form scattered around the area.
Drinking utensils equipped for every appendage from hands to tentacles, were filled with colourful concoctions and imbibed freely by the diverse array of creatures. A Jizz band was playing something catchy in the background and the mood in the establishment though 'sleazy' was nonetheless lively. He arrived at the bar and was soon tended to by a Whipid bartender who inquired through the static bursts of his translator, what he wanted to drink. Nervously, he ordered a Sava juice and hoped he did not look too much like a dumb kid, which unfortunately he did no matter how hard he wished otherwise.
His eye caught the arrival of a tall human striding through the front door, wearing Corellian colours and the remnants of what used to be a Republic uniform. As he entered, a svelte Twi'leki, all blue and enchanting wrapped her arms around the man and for a few seconds, they engaged in flirtatious banter before she moved away from him, a look in her eyes that was one of clear invitation. The man with the moustache grinned and though the youth did not know what exactly was said, could guess he was taking up her offer.
"Boy." A finger prodded him in the back
He turned around and faced a Rodian. At least he thought it was a Rodian, he had never actually seen one in the flesh. They often came with spiky green protrusions about the skull that tapered into a snout and large, black eyes with no irises.
"Yes?" What did this creature want of him?
"You look to me as if you are new to this place."
Not exactly a revelation he had to admit but could not find it in himself to be so rude by lying so he simply answered with a nod. "I am. I just got in today."
"And what is your business here?" The alien inquired further as the bartender served his juice.
"I'm trying to get to Coruscant." He volunteered, uncertain after he did it whether it was such a wise move or not.
"Coruscant? How fortunate, perhaps I can help you."
"Are you a freighter captain?" He exclaimed with eagerness and immediately felt like a dumb, naive kid.
"Yes, I am. I can take you to Coruscant."
"Really?" His excitement grew, and he thought booking a flight was going to be hard. This was easy! Of course, he knew the Rodian was not going to take him to Coruscant for free. "How much?"
"Well," the Rodian stroked his snout with his large hand, "we are far from Coruscant. It won't be cheap."
"I know," he answered automatically, expecting as much.
"Twenty thousand credits."
"Twenty thousand?" He was unable to even imagine that much money let alone possessing it. His heart sank, realizing if this were the standard fee to get to Coruscant, he would not be getting there any time soon. "I don't have that much money."
"I see." The Rodian seemed to contemplate the situation. "Perhaps we can work something out."
"Sure."
He was willing to do anything so the plan did not fall to pieces before his eyes. He didn’t notice the human he'd seen earlier was now standing next to him at the bar, drawn into his conversation to the Rodian, even if the man feigned indifference.
"Would you be willing to work it off?"
"I don't understand. "What do you mean?"
"He means are you willing to be conned into agreeing to work off your fee because once you're on board his ship, he'll let you know it’s charged with substantial interest. By the time you actually get to Coruscant, you'll be older than I am." The man drawled, insinuating himself into the conversation with what could only be interpreted as a furious expression on his face.
"Stay out of this Weelmington." The Rodian warned as he stood up from his stool. "The matter is between myself and the boy."
"Kid," Buck looked at the youth who was a tragedy waiting to happen because he was just so damn green. Buck wondered if he was ever that young. "What's your name?"
"JD." The boy answered, completely flustered now. "JD Dunne."
"Listen to me JD Dunne," Buck dropped his hand to the blaster at his hip. "Do you know what slavery is?"
JD's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the Rodian whose expressionless face betrayed nothing, realizing what the stranger was attempting to save him from. "Yes, Sir."
"Good," Buck replied. "You were just about to indenture yourself to this Rodian as a slave to get your trip to Coruscant."
JD did not know what to say, but the Rodian had volumes to verbalize on the matter. He went for his weapon, but before he could even draw, he was staring down Buck's blaster.
"Do it Nardo," Buck hissed. "I'd be doing the galaxy a favour."
"This is the last time you interfere with my affairs Weelmington." The Rodian spat angrily at him, making JD jump slightly. "Next time, I will kill you."
"Or I could kill you." Buck returned and stepped backwards. "Come on kid." He motioned JD to follow.
After what almost happened to him, JD was smart enough to know a good idea when he heard one. Besides, what other choice did he have?
The Whipid studied the duo of humans the moment they emerged from the docking bay.
As an informant, he knew the wisdom of keeping an eye on things even if there was no reason to do so. Most of the time, his livelihood relied entirely on chance encounters, glimpses of the unusual and subtle shifts in the wind revealing more than intended. The spaceport of Cordoba was one of the best places for such observations. For it was here, all creatures appeared at their most vulnerable. If asked to explain why the Whipid would be unable to do so. He would be able to say that a spaceport was a place of purpose. Those who came here did so for one reason or another, and the trick was in finding which reason was most valuable.
The tall, dark human with the lovely blond companion had a reason, and it was an important one if the body language displayed by the male was any indication. Thanks to the idiosyncrasies of human physiology, the species came equipped with numerous facial expressions, showing subtle changes in behaviour and emotions, allowing for straightforward interpretation by someone who knew what to look for. The Whipid noted the way the male's eyes darted about, searching faces for any indications of danger. Only after he saw none, did he usher the lady into the corridor and they made their way through the crowds, still cautious and alert of everything before them.
The Whipid shifted away from one of the many walls making up the busy corridors in the complex, appearing to most as a beggar who did not rate a second glance. There was no doubt in the mind of the observer the duo was engaged in something important, even illegal. Their body language revealed the tension running through them and warranted the Whipid's continued interest. It was relatively easy to maintain his surveillance with the numerous people moving in and out of the spaceport, going to their respective destinations.
The humans were trying to make their way out of the space station, that much was clear. Still, it surprised the Whipid who thought they were attempting to make their way off-world since the male was so apprehensive. His manner indicated he might have been a soldier of some sort. His body language reeked of discipline and control. However, the Whipid suspected it was more than likely he was not an Imperial agent. Imperial agents had no reason to feel fear, and that set the Whipid's thought processes into motion. A rebel perhaps?
As an informant, it was impossible for the Whipid to not know about the Rebel Alliance, as nascent as it might be at present. Indeed, the Empire considered the movement a genuine threat that would have a significant impact on future galactic politics and stability. Much of the Empire's concern was due to the fact most of its leaders were former members of the Republic Senate and their voices represented the silent majority disliking the installation of an Emperor in place of a Chancellor. Although Palpatine's reign was new, the destruction of the Jedi Order and the extraordinary powers being granted to regional governors were already giving concern to many.
While the Rebel Alliance was not well equipped, their benefactors were rumoured to be powerful governments like Alderaan and Mon Calamari, industrially rich worlds capable of providing armaments and military support. Standing orders to all Imperial informants demanded the immediate notification of any data regarding the rebel alliance and its members. The Whipid was becoming more and more confident the two humans he was following were a part of that organization. Unfortunately, it was not wise to observe rebels for extended periods of time and instead searched the area until he saw a group of stormtroopers about to switch duty rotations.
The Whipid waited until the two humans left the main doors of the spaceport before making his way to the stormtroopers. He had no wish to rouse their suspicion should he be seen conspiring with the authorities. Rebels had no hesitation dying for their cause and taking betrayers with them to the grave. Cordoba was not that large a community, and it would be relatively easy for the stormtroopers to uncover their whereabouts once a sweep of the city was conducted. There was also the possibility he might be wrong, that the two humans had a perfectly legitimate reason for their manner. If so, it was of no concern to him. His job was the passing of data; it was someone else's responsibility to verify it.
But he knew he was not wrong.
******
Vin Tanner carried out his research before arriving on Cordoba.
The Imperial agents who hired him provided some data about the man's whereabouts, but Vin did not trust it to be accurate and used his own contacts. Although Vin was once Jabba's slave, he resolved his differences with the gangster long ago to have access to the vast resources of the Hutt network. Thus, before he even set foot on Cordoba, Vin knew the layout of the place. Though he would be hard-pressed to explain how he was able to commit so much information to memory, Vin was confident he would have no difficulty navigating through the city.
He moved through Cordoba as if he were a native, with every turn of road and path already familiar to him. It was such skills that allowed him to be known as one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy. In truth, when questioned about his uncanny intuition, Vin often felt uncomfortable. He could not explain why he often simply knew when he was walking into a dangerous situation, or how it was possible to be sure someone was lying to him or not. The abilities saved his life too many times than he could count but trying to understand what it was, frightened Vin more than any menace he faced in his life.
Returning his attention to the Jedi, it was not lost upon Vin how easily his thoughts were prone to distraction during this occasion, and he told himself if he did not stop, he would get himself killed. Taking a deep breath, he focussed, forcing his concentration to sharpen on the business at hand. Most of the reports about the Jedi were vague, but Vin sifted through enough of them to know where he ought to start looking. In truth, he did not expect it to be easy but then whatever was?
The tavern where most of the sightings of the Jedi originated was called the Four Corners Inn and the informants believed he was residing permanently at the establishment. However, for some strange reason, none of the informants was aware Larabee was a Jedi and were genuinely surprised when told of the fact.
This gave Vin pause.
The more he thought about this assignment, the more he disliked it. Everything about going after a Jedi felt wrong. If it were not for the threat to his personal liberty, he would have turned the Empire down. True, if he brought the Jedi in, he would be very well paid. Perhaps enough to buy that quiet little place he always wanted on Iskalon. Vin had been forced to land the Tracker on the planet once during his trip through the system. Not only was it remote and beyond the reach of the main space lanes but also pristine and untouched. It was the kind of place someone who did not like people could lose himself forever.
Right now, there was something else at work inside him, making him anxious about this whole business. He could not explain it, but it soured inside his belly and left such a bad taste it was taking all his effort to ignore it. He could harden his emotions to such a degree nothing could shake his composure. One could not do what he did for a living without building such shields over one's emotions. The cardinal rule he was taught from those who introduced him to the business was simple; never feel for the mark. The moment it happened; you were as good as dead.
Shaking such negative thoughts out of his mind, he reached the tavern. As such places went, it was certainly not the most inviting establishment of its type in Cordoba. If anything, it looked dingy and seedy. The building was not far short of dilapidated, and the sign displaying its name was almost falling off the awning hanging across the door. The size of the building indicated it probably took in lodgers but would not be the first choice of patrons who could afford better.
Approaching it, Vin could hear the chatter of customers and music emanating from the open door. He checked his blaster once more, even though he primed it the moment he was within line of sight of the establishment. He had already enough reservations about this entire situation without being unprepared as well.
The first thing he noticed upon entering was the dim surroundings. It must have been a universal constant they all be bathed in darkness. The layout of the room included booths against the walls, but also tables in the middle of the floor. Each surface was lit only by a small lamp. It was not very busy and yet there was something about the place that put Vin on guard. A few patrons sat at the bar while the others hid in their booths, watching him closely as he entered.
The clientele included both human and non-humans. They jabbered at each other in their own language, or through the means of a translator that turned six million forms of communication into Standard Galactic. Upon his arrival, their voices lowered, and though they tried not to look at him, he was convinced he was the reason for their hushed tones. Vin was accustomed to such reaction because his reputation was not something he could hide, but on this occasion, this was not the reason.
Behind the counter, the bartender gave him a reason to pause because she was gorgeous. Flowing dark hair and dusky skin, she offered him a little smile as he approached the stained wooden counter. Unlike her tavern, which reeked of alcohol and nickitaine, he could smell her perfume through the intoxicants in the room. Vin did not have much experience with women, and if one thing could be considered his weakness, it was his dealings with the opposite sex.
There were no women on the moisture farms where he grew up, and the first time he actually saw a human female was after he escaped Tatooine in his late teens. Since then, his relations with women were limited and with one exception, never slept with one he did not have to pay for.
"What can I get you?" She presented him with a devastating smile.
"Information." He said in his too soft voice.
"Sorry. Don't deal in information, just drinks. There are plenty of informants elsewhere in Cordoba but not here. I don't believe in selling out for money."
Vin's brow raised in surprise. He could tell she meant it too. There were not many people who could genuinely surprise him, and despite the wisdom of doing so, Vin warmed to the lovely bartender. "I'm sorry, I was looking for someone who lodges here."
"That I can help you with." She leaned forward on the counter and rested her chin on her hand as she looked up at him with her dancing eyes. "You have a name for this someone?"
"Larabee." Vin leaned forward in kind. Despite his casual manner, he was observing her expression.
She did not disappoint. Immediately, her eyes darted over Vin's shoulder, and Vin did not need to turn around to know she was looking for someone who was here at this moment. This troubled him, even though Vin showed no indication of it to the woman. Vin was further surprised he had not sensed them. Usually, he could feel it when a bounty was close. This time, there was nothing, no warning or familiar tingling at the edge of his senses.
"Thanks," Vin said simply, not about to compromise her any more than necessary.
"Hey," she called out as he started to turn away. "I wouldn't bother him."
"I'm not going to bother him."
"That's good because he knew you were coming."
Vin stopped short and looked sharply at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he was expecting you. Ten minutes ago, he asked me to bring him two drinks." She explained with an expression of concern in her eyes. Vin could not tell whether her worry was for Larabee or him, but his intuition once again told him it was a little of both.
"Thanks..." Vin stared at her, wanting to know her name.
"Inez."
"Thanks, Inez." He offered her a small smile and turned around to deal with the Jedi who was expecting him. Had the Imperial agents compromised him? How would the Jedi know he was here? He supposed someone in Jabba's organization could have talked. Money could loosen many tongues, but somehow Vin did not believe so. Jabba's network was usually very reliable because Jabba's treatment of those who betrayed his trust was extreme, to say the least.
The figure waiting for him at his booth was wearing a dark cloak with a hood, ensuring he was unrecognizable in the dim light of the tavern. Vin saw no signs of movement but observed the contents in one of the glasses happened to be the beer of his choice. His hand was now firmly across his gun, poised to draw if the moment arose. As he neared the table, the hood rose, and a pair of icy coloured eyes stared at him.
"Chris Larabee." Vin recognized the face staring up at him indifferently.
"What's left of him." The voice was a little more than a whisper.
Vin paused at the table and studied the man whose eyes saw him and through him at the same time. The Jedi was not what he expected, but then Vin had never met a Jedi, so he had no idea what to expect.
"How did you know I was coming?"
"You know the answer to that better than I do." The man answered, his piercing green eyes turning to the glass in his hand. He downed the drink without any fear at taking his eyes off a potentially dangerous enemy.
"I don't." Vin bit back, feeling defensive for some reason. "I'm here to take you in."
He wanted a reaction from Chris Larabee, to show the man who was in charge here. "You can make this simple. You come with me now, and I won't hurt you. Give me any trouble, and I won't have any problem bringing you in dead."
Chris lowered the mug in his hand and stared at the young man whose power emanated strongly even though he knew nothing of it or at least did not wish to admit it existed. There was a time when Chris would have cared enough to let him know his potential, but that time was long past. In another time, Chris would have told him he was a part of something greater than himself because the Force burned strongly in this bounty hunter. Once not so long ago, Vin Tanner might have been able to take his place among others of his kind.
Others of his kind…
The realization there would be no others for a long time left ash in Chris's mouth. It left ash as bitter tasting as the sorrow keeping his heart an open wound. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of Adam, Adam whose light was extinguished even before it began because of Palpatine and Vader. He felt the shudder of the dark side ripple through his consciousness and thought about the Sith Lords who now sat in absolute power in the galaxy. He thought of the Republic, crumbling from within and the end of the Jedi. He remembered fleeing from the remnants of the Jedi Council in Coruscant when news of the slaughter reached him. He tried to get home to Corellia in time to save his wife and son, but it was too late.
Perhaps it was too late the moment Skywalker became Jedi.
"So bring me in dead." Chris raised his hand towards Inez to bring him another. In truth, he cared little if he lived or died.
"I don't want to kill you." Vin was becoming more unbalanced by the moment. How could he be so damned calm? "But you're coming with me now." He reached for his gun and aimed it the Jedi's face.
"I'll come with you," Chris said calmly, not even looking at him. "Just make sure when I get delivered to Palpatine and Vader, you're far away from them."
Vin blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"It's not insight or intuition." Chris met his gaze while easing back into the leather of his booth. "You can tell yourself it's because you're an exceptional bounty hunter. Best in the galaxy, isn't that what Jabba the Hutt says?"
"Shut up," Vin ordered, not liking it at all that Chris was correct in his statement. Jabba the Hutt called him that on numerous occasions. His reputation for being the best came with that tag. "Stand up."
Chris did not move. Incredibly, Inez stepped up to the table and served him his drink, aware of the weapon drawn but barely raising a brow as she saw Vin attempting to exert himself over the Jedi. She served Chris and then retreated, looking in neither man's direction as she departed. Chris reached for his glass and took another deep sip.
"That little edge that allows you to see things ahead of time, to know when danger is around the corner. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but if you plan on delivering me to the Empire, you better be aware of what could happen to you if the Emperor even gets a whiff of you."
"QUIET!" Vin shouted angrily, not liking what this stranger was implying because it felt uncomfortably like the truth he wondered about all his life.
Chris ignored him and continued speaking. "I suppose being born outside the Republic, it was only natural we missed you. If you had been a citizen and not a slave, you would have been tested as a boy and then trained. I bet the midiclorion count in your blood is pretty high for it to exert itself without any training."
"What are you talking about?"
"The Force is with you, Tanner. And if you go anywhere near Vader or the Emperor when you hand me over to them, they’ll know it too."
"That's crazy." Vin stared at the man in stupefied shock. "I don't have the Force or whatever you call it."
"You don't have to believe it," the Jedi replied with a sneer. "They'll know just as I knew the minute you stepped off your ship. You see a Jedi can hide among others but not among other Jedi. We know each other."
"You're just trying to confuse me." Vin took a step forward, deciding to put an end to this matter once and for all. He was a professional! He did not get side-tracked with words, even if they were coming from the lips of a Jedi!
"I don't have to confuse you. "If you want to take me in, that's up to you. I don't care."
"Too bad, I do." A new voice said sharply.
Vin felt the barrel of a gun being pushed into the small of his back. A flash of insight told him two people were standing behind him. A man and a boy. His stomach hollowed when he saw the Jedi looking at him, perfectly aware of the ability allowing his mind to see it. With a sinking feeling, Vin suddenly realized Chris Larabee was right.
"Drop the gun." The new arrival ordered. "JD, pick it up."
The boy rounded him, trying to hide his fear. Vin sensed the younger man was unsure of what was happening but was not about to question the order put to him. When Vin released the weapon, it dropped on the table, and the boy named JD immediately retrieved it. Vin watched his gun being handled by someone who did not look happy holding such a weapon and the apprehension in JD's eyes was clear enough to exploit.
"This isn't your concern," Vin warned. "I have an Imperial warrant to bring the Jedi in. You're interfering in their business. Do you know the consequences for that?" Vin challenged JD when he asked that question. "Do you know how much trouble you're getting yourself into?"
JD seemed uncertain but did not waver as he aimed the gun in Vin's direction, taking his lead from Buck Wilmington, who not only saved him from making an unfortunate mistake earlier with the Rodian but seemed genuinely concerned about him. Even though he knew the man for only a short time, he felt as if he could trust Buck. And right now, he had the feeling he really needed someone to watch out for him because JD had stepped into a world he knew nothing about.
JD swallowed the lump of fear in his throat and met the mercenary's gaze, trying to inject as much bravery into his voice as he could muster. "No, but I'm sure I'll find out later."
Behind the bounty hunter, Buck threw the young man a little smile of appreciation before regarding Vin once again. "Now you can walk out of here on your own, or we can carry you out when you're dead. The choice is up to you."
"I thought the Jedi fought their own battles." Vin looked at Chris with a hint of derision.
JD's eyes widened, and he turned towards Chris. "You're a Jedi Knight! For real?" His gaze shifted from Vin for a second which was all Vin needed to retrieve his weapon from the inexperienced youth and grab him in an arm lock before Buck could pull the trigger on the gun.
"Let the kid go!" Buck demanded, furious at himself for not firing when he had the chance.
Vin was not about to give up his advantage and pulled his arm tighter against JD's throat, forcing a dry rasp from the boy's lips. Larabee did not seem to care very much how this went one way or another, but his taller companion did, and Vin silenced his captive's struggles by pressing the barrel of his blaster against JD's ribs. "I'll let the kid go when Larabee stands up."
Chris turned to Vin as he made that statement and said simply. "You'll let the kid go now." His voice was weary and sounded so very old and sad.
"That's not going to happen."
"I think it is."
In the shadows of where he was sitting, Vin saw the Jedi's hand move. At least, he thought he did. His fingers seemed to stretch out for a second in a small, neat arc, but Vin's observation was cut short when he felt something against his throat. For an instant, Vin was sure he felt fingers around his neck, pressing into his skin and forcing the air out of his lungs. He released JD involuntarily, and as JD hurried away, Vin dropped his gun and reached for his neck, trying to remove the invisible talons strangling him.
This time Buck retrieved the weapon and stepped back, watching like every other person in the bar, the bounty hunter struggling to breathe, wondering how far the Jedi was going to go with this.
"Chris...." Buck glanced at him, anxiously. "Chris, you're not a killer."
Even as he said that Buck knew Chris was a changed man. As much as Buck might hate to admit it, he was not entirely sure the Jedi would not kill the man.
"I'm not a lot of things any more Buck," Chris answered dispassionately, caring little for the plight of the man seconds away from dying. By now Vin was on his knees, struggling for every breath of air he could take.
"But," Chris sighed, finally coming to a decision. "They'll come after him soon enough. Once the rest of us are gone, they'll find him."
With that, he released his grip and Vin promptly collapsed to the floor.
"Get out of here!" Buck shouted at Vin, who forced himself to stand. Vin was still too astonished to do anything but to hurry out, clutching his throat and coming to grips with what almost happened to him.
When he left, Buck regarded JD. "Are you okay?"
JD nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry I let him get the drop on me, Buck."
"That's okay," Buck replied amiably, more pleased the kid wasn't hurt than angered by something he was ill-equipped to prevent. He was so young. Buck had forgotten what it was like to look at the world with such new eyes. Perhaps, his own experiences were one of the reasons why Buck assumed responsibility for his wellbeing because once, someone helped him as JD needed it now. Buck ruffled JD's hair, just to let him know everything was all right.
"You know he'll be back." Buck turned to Chris after seeing to the welfare of his new charge.
"I know." Chris nodded.
"Why did you leave it so long to do anything?" Buck stared at Chris in disapproval. "You could have stopped this from getting as far as it did."
Chris eased in to the booth once more, hiding in the shadows before he whispered his answer. "I didn't care when it was just me."
They were being followed.
Although the stormtroopers in the street behind them appeared to be conducting their usual patrols, Nathan could not shake the belief he and Mary were the reason for their sudden appearance at every corner. Maintaining their composure at the possibility of discovery, they debated whether or not to discontinue their rendezvous with the third member of their party. Time was of the essence. The longer they remained on Cordoba, the more likely the chance of being discovered as rebels if they were not already.
Nathan knew making a premature attempt at evasion might provoke the stormtroopers' suspicions. Even if Cordoba was located at the edge of galactic space, he did not underestimate the Empire's ability to secure the planet if they for one moment believed rebels were on it. If Mary Travis were identified, there would be Star Destroyers dispatched so quickly their chances of getting out would be next to impossible. While most members of the Rebel Alliance topped the Empire's wanted lists, Mary had the dubious honour of being held in the same category as Republic senators who were now on the run from Imperial agents.
Mary was a member of the Alliance's inner circle. She knew the locations of a dozen secret bases, the names of supporters in the Imperial Senate feeding them information, and possessed enough intelligence about the leaders of the Rebel Alliance the Empire could easily exploit. It would be a crippling blow if Mary were taken alive, one the Alliance might not recover from. The movement was still too new to suffer such a blow, and Nathan dared not imagine what they would do to her to extract the intelligence.
Suddenly there were peddlers all around them, and Nathan realised they'd wandered into a street bazaar. Everything from livestock to spare parts for starships were being sold beneath the cover of brightly coloured tents, keeping the sun off the merchandise. Droids stood about expectantly as prospective owners examined them with in-depth scrutiny, taking stock of every bit of tarnished metal and rusty sockets. There were colourful beads and stones shining through display cases, exotic foods wafting through the air with its rich aromas, and people pushing through the narrow walks between stores in search of the ultimate bargain.
"Mary," Nathan whispered, "I think we've been compromised."
"I know," she agreed grimly, giving no indication of anything wrong to those who might be watching. "I saw them."
"Josiah's waiting at the rendezvous point." He continued to keep a cautious eye for any storm troopers. It was difficult when there were so many people crushing them on all sides.
"We can't take the risk. We can't lead the Empire to him."
Nathan could understand her apprehension. Before his arrival here, the local rebel base changed locations to protect its secrecy should they be captured en route. Only the contact they were meeting knew where it was, and they could not risk his capture by Imperial agents if they continued on their present course. Their lives were an acceptable loss in the protection of their cause.
Nathan thought quickly because he knew Cordoba far better than she did. It took him a few moments to decide what to do, and in honest truth, Nathan knew they had no other choice. "There's a little tavern not far from here." He stared past the crowd into a back street. "Buck usually goes there to meet his friend. If we can make it there, he might be able to smuggle us off-planet until we can contact the Alliance for new instructions."
"What's it called?"
"The Four Corners Tavern."
"I see. I think we should split up here."
"Split up?" Nathan did not like the idea of allowing her to venture beyond his protection alone. She was far too important to be captured.
"In this crowd, it will be easy to do." She was aware his voice dripped with objection. "They're looking for a man and a woman. If we split up, it might confuse them long enough for us to get to Buck."
Despite himself, Nathan could not fault her logic and knew it was the sensible thing to do. He also reminded himself no matter how young she appeared, she was still in charge. She didn't have to make it an order, but she could.
"Alright. We'll do it your way, but I'm just telling you now, I won't leave without you."
"Yes you will leave, Captain," Mary returned sharply. "You may not know as much as I do about the Alliance, but you know enough. You're as much a prize to them as I am. So you will leave if I do not make it to this place."
"But..." Nathan started to protest, but Mary silenced him with a look.
"That is an order Captain." She repeated herself with enough command to make sure he obeyed.
He had no choice but to comply. With more and more Imperial troops flooding the square occupied by the bazaar, Nathan realized the question of whether or not they were being followed was answered. The stormtroopers no longer held their casual countenance and appeared to be sifting through the crowds and stores searching for someone specific. He and Mary had only a few seconds disappear before the soldiers noticed their hasty departure.
"Understood. I'll wait for you for as long as I can. If you don't meet me there, I'll contact the Alliance."
Nathan clearly disliked her plan, but it was of no concern to Mary. Being a member of the Rebel Alliance meant tolerating a great deal which left a sour taste in her mouth. This was no different. They offered each other a parting look before finally turning on their heels and allowing the messy array of buyers and sellers to swallow them whole.
*****
"Damn Chris." Buck Wilmington stared disapprovingly across the darkened booth at his friend. "What's that, the second one this month?"
Chris Larabee, formerly Jedi Knight shrugged his shoulders indifferently, not deigning to answer even though he knew it was closer to three.
Ever since he arrived on Cordoba, Imperial agents, their hired killers and finally the newest variety, bounty hunters, hounded him incessantly. A smart man would have quit Cordoba by now, disappearing into the wilderness of space beyond the Territory but Chris was in no hurry to leave. His destiny at this time was unclear, and he was content to wait for something he knew was coming, even though he was not entirely sure what it was. He knew what he wished it to be, and though it was improper for a Jedi to possess a death wish, Chris had one just the same.
Buck took a sip of his mug of beer and tried not to allow the anger in his voice to show, even if he was certain Chris would pick up his intense emotions. He and Chris went back a long time, all the way back to Corellia when they met as teenagers. Chris was a padawan learner then, what the Jedi called an apprentice, and Buck was a cadet itching for his first taste of star piloting. They had both been as young as JD, now seated quietly in his corner of the booth, trying not to stare in fascination at the Jedi.
"That last one had a look about him." Buck pointed out, remembering the edge in the bounty hunter's eyes when he made his hasty departure. Buck had the impression Chris had taken him by surprise, and it was not a mistake he was likely to make again. Something about him made Buck nervous, and Chris's reaction to the man was equally puzzling. "He'll be back, you know."
"I suppose so." Chris remained indifferent as he worked his way through another glass of beer, showing no signs of slowing. Buck recognized the pattern enough times to know Chris would finally have enough when he was too drunk to stand.
"Damnit Chris," Buck swore with an uncharacteristic burst of anger. "How long is this going to go on?"
Chris raised his eyes with clear menace, but it was danger Buck was not about to heed. The warning to let it go was clear, but Buck was beyond it now. He knew what it was to anger a Jedi. Chris could break every bone in his body without lifting a finger, but Buck did not care. Chris was his friend, and he would not simply sit by and let the man disintegrate before his eyes.
"Chris," Buck met his gaze fearlessly. "I loved Sarah and Adam too. Maybe not as much as you did but enough to feel it. I always thought you were so lucky to have her because she was one of the finest women I ever met." Buck paused a moment and saw the hard green eyes soften with sorrow for a few seconds before he continued speaking. "It would just kill her to see what you're doing to yourself because of her death. She would never have wanted this."
"Stay out of it Buck," Chris warned again. This time there was no denying the anger in his voice.
"Mr Larabee," JD suddenly spoke up, interrupting a situation he could see was going from bad to worse. He never imagined even the mythical Jedi Knights could feel so much pain but knowing it made JD feel a great deal of empathy for Chris Larabee. "I know it isn't any of my business to say anything, but I came here to Cordoba, running away from everything because I couldn't stand being where I was without my mother."
JD paused for a moment, expecting to be the recipient of an invisible chokehold for speaking out of turn, but decided to press on since he had come this far. "I came here looking for a way to get to Coruscant chasing my dreams. If it weren't for Buck, I would have been stuck in an awful situation. I know losing my mother can't compare to losing your family, but you've got to accept help sometime, even when you don't think you need it, simply because it's there."
Chris raised his eyes to meet the boy's, somewhat surprised at the wisdom in those youthful words and the courage it took for JD to utter them. He could sense just how much fear JD had overcome to say what he just did and could not help feeling touched even if the words did little to change his mind.
"There are some things a Jedi has to handle alone. Sometimes, we have to follow our destiny wherever it takes us."
"Even if it leads to getting yourself killed?" Buck countered, grateful for JD’s words even if it made no difference.
"Even then."
The new arrival at the bar made Chris take notice. Unlike the previous visitor, the man entering the tavern was not searching for him, but his purpose felt urgent. Chris watched in silence as he consulted Inez at the counter before his eyes surveyed the room and paused in the direction she was gesturing, the one that would bring him straight to their table.
Buck noted Chris's stare and looked over his shoulder only to be flushed with recognition. The man was in his late forties with greying hair and had a solid frame that would make him formidable should he choose to use it in combat. Worried eyes peered at them from beneath heavy brows, and though Buck could not place the name, he certainly knew the face.
"I know this guy."
"You should. He's looking for you."
Buck shot Chris a look before the stranger reached their table. He wore dull colours and looked like someone trying very hard to be anonymous even though his stature and manner would always capture attention.
"Which one of you is the pilot of the Rogue?" He asked when he reached them, revealing a deep resonating voice more appropriate for oration than such a seedy locale.
"I am. What can I do for you?"
Despite his best efforts not to mask it, Buck's voice oozed with suspicion. Under the table, his hand shifted towards his blaster. He did not know this person, but the familiarity gave him a reason for caution, and until Buck knew why, he was not about to take any chances.
"I understand you arrived this morning in Cordoba. Your passenger was a young woman."
"Obviously you don't know Buck very well." Chris drawled, perfectly aware of why the man was here. "It's an event if he doesn't have a passenger who isn’t a woman."
Buck threw Chris a withering look before regarding the man again. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just came to visit an old friend. I had no passenger on my ship."
"Yes you did," the man insisted. "A young woman whom you picked up at Alderaan with full diplomatic clearance from high office. I believe you were provided with all the documentation to leave Alderaan customs without an onboard search. She was wearing a portable bio-disrupter to mask the second life sign on your ship when you were being scanned?"
"If it makes you feel any better Buck," Chris interrupted. "This is Josiah Sanchez, formerly the Republic Senator representing Sollust."
Buck scowled at Chris for not revealing that sooner. "You better sit down."
Josiah bowed in gratitude to the Jedi who had vouched for him before taking a seat at the table. "Thank you for your endorsement. Have we met?"
"Not really," Chris admitted, "but I spent a lot of time on Coruscant, and I sat in on a few Council meetings."
"I see," Josiah nodded, wanting to question him some more but let the matter rest for the moment when there were more important issues at hand. "I was supposed to be meeting your passenger and her escort some time ago. They never arrived."
"They never showed?" Buck's eyes widened, realizing the urgency now. If neither Nathan or Mary appeared at their scheduled meeting, then something had gone terribly wrong.
"I waited at the rendezvous point, but neither of them appeared. Nathan mentioned that in the event of any trouble, this was a safe haven. I came here hoping if something had gone wrong, they would have come here."
"I haven't seen them." Buck frowned unhappily. "I handed her over to Nathan as planned, and they walked out of the spaceport without causing a stir."
"Who Buck?" JD inquired puzzled.
Buck did not answer but was clearly distressed by what kind of trouble the two might be in by their continued absence. Somehow, somewhere, someone had flagged them to the authorities. Even the suspicion of being rebel collaborators was enough to result in immediate detention from the local Imperials.
Nathan was his friend. They served together in the Clone Wars, and it worried Buck a great deal because he knew what it would mean if Nathan was captured by the Empire. At the very least, the former Republic Captain would be executed, and at worse, he would be interrogated mercilessly for every iota of information he had in his head regarding the Alliance.
Buck did not even want to think about what they would do to Mary.
"If they were captured, we would have heard something by now. Some Imperial goon bucking for a promotion to Coruscant would be screaming it across the system. They could still be trying to get here."
"It's possible," Josiah conceded the point but did not sound hopeful. "They could be hiding until the search is over."
Chris did not offer any opinions as Buck and Josiah spoke about the subject of mutual concern to them both. The Rebel Alliance had a significant part to play in the future, but its time had yet to come. Chris knew events were transpiring throughout the galaxy and the fledgling movement would build the foundations for tomorrow. Sacrifices had to be made, and the destruction of the Jedi was only the beginning. The Jedi Qui Gonn believed in the mythical Vergence, the prophecy of a chosen one bringing balance to the force.
It was Qui Gonn who brought Anakin to Coruscant and made Obi-Wan promise to train him as a Jedi. Chris often wondered what Qui Gonn would have thought about Anakin's surrender to the dark side, ensuring not only the destruction of the Jedi but also the bloodline of all Force adepts. Would he have still saved the boy? Chris supposed they would never know. In any case Qui Gonn's actions not only condemned the Jedi to destruction but also sealed the fate of Sarah and Adam.
Buck was still an idealist, who believed the good fight could turn the Empire back into the Republic, but the pilot did not know the secrets left to the remaining Jedi who managed to leave Coruscant when the end had come.
Obi-Wan kept it a secret from most, but the Jedi found it difficult to hide things from one another. Jedi Masters could shield their thoughts but not for very long. It took a great deal of control to keep another out. The advantage of not having any secrets was the ability to decide who could be trusted, and Obi-Wan had entrusted his most important secret to a select few. Unfortunately, except Chris, all the others were gone, preferring to die rather than submit to Vader and Palpatine.
At least if Chris met his end, he would take the secret Obi-Wan entrusted to him, to the grave. The secret on a small moisture farm in Tatooine.
******
It took some time to find the Four Corners Tavern. Hours after leaving Nathan in the bazaar, Mary finally walked through the dim confines of the establishment. Outside, the Imperial troops were out in force and remaining on the streets would only get her noticed. Dying didn't bother her, not in the slightest, but being captured alive did. She prayed Nathan had left Cordoba without her. The owner of the Four Corners Tavern was a rebel sympathizer who would offer her sanctuary if he were already gone.
Slipping through the main entrance, she looked over her shoulder and saw the evidence of Imperial troops in the distance. With her heart pounding in her chest, Mary knew there were more of them than before. It looked like the entire garrison was out searching for them. Taking a deep breath, Mary prayed the captain made it this far. He was a good man and was genuinely concerned for her life.
At the time it was a good idea, Mary thought stubbornly, to split up. Had they been together, they would not have made it this far. The Empire was looking for a couple, they would not pay attention to two people going about their business separately. As it was, Mary's cloak kept most of her hidden, but Nathan was easily identified from his Republic records. Mary feared he might have been easier to apprehend than she. Entering the tavern, Mary headed towards the when suddenly she heard a voice call out.
"Mary!"
To her utmost relief, it was the voice of a friend. Spinning around, she saw Josiah rise from his table and noticed Buck Wilmington was also present. Forgetting all about the bar, she crossed the floor and was with him in a matter of seconds. The two old friends engaged in a warm embrace and Mary never thought she could be so happy to see anyone. Obviously, Josiah guessed this would be the safe refuge Nathan would choose if they should run into any trouble.
"Thank the Force you're safe," Josiah exclaimed when they pulled apart.
"Is Nathan here?" She stared past his shoulder at the table and saw no evidence of the tall, black man who was so determined to save her life. When she pulled back to look at Josiah in anticipation of his answer, she already knew inwardly what it would be.
"No. There's no sign of Nathan. We've been waiting here for most of the afternoon hoping either of you would show. We've had stormtroopers through the place already, I don't think they will be back."
"Mary sit down." Buck pulled out a chair for her as she sat slowly in it. Her disappointment at Nathan's absence felt like a lead weight, and she swore inwardly at the whole idea of separating in the first place. Perhaps if they had stayed together, he would be here. He was so determined to keep her safe he never once thought about the consequences to himself. Even though baser instincts told Mary the safest course of action at the moment was to cut their losses and run, she could not bring herself to abandon Nathan to the Imperials.
That was the way of the Empire, not the Republic.
"Thank you, Buck. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
"Neither did I." Buck tried to smile but could not quite manage it. "I never question the company of a beautiful woman, but I wish it were under other circumstances."
"We have to do something," Mary spoke before realising there were other people at the table, notably a boy and a man in a dark hood. She could not see much of him in the poor illumination of the tavern, but she could tell his eyes were almost definitely on her. Upon noticing they were not alone, she glanced at Josiah and Buck.
"It's okay," Buck assured. "This is my friend JD and Chris Larabee. They can be trusted."
The boy looked exactly like what he was, a fresh-faced kid from the farm who was so green Mary wondered if he was old enough to be in a place like this. He greeted her in monosyllables and gave her the impression wherever he was from, there were not many women. Mary nodded in acknowledgement and was a little amused by the young man's reaction, trying to remember when any man had looked at her that way and concluding it was simply too long.
Chris said nothing because he was too busy staring at her. Sarah's death was more than a year behind him now, and the pain was still raw and fresh. When he closed his eyes, she flooded his mind, whispering her sweet voice in his ear. His Jedi memory allowed him to relive it all in perfect detail. Each day since her passing, Chris felt this gnawing in his heart, this painful sensation of teeth tearing at his flesh. He had become so used to this pain it was almost a part of him, and yet when this young woman walked into the room and captured his attention, for a moment, just a single instant of time, Chris actually felt it fade.
Chris became lost in a symphony of colour when her blue eyes stared at him. His throat felt dry at the sight of her lovely features, remembering the gentle flutter of excitement in his heart when he first laid eyes on Sarah. His breath caught when she pulled down the hood of her cloak, revealing hair of white gold framing an exquisite face. She was beautiful in an elegant way, the kind used by poets to compose lusty sonnets. As the thought crossed his mind, another entered his head.
A creature as lovely as this could never last. Her star was meant to burn bright but short, and Chris would never allow himself to be hurt by such a loss.
"This is your business." Chris rose to his feet abruptly, no longer looking at Mary. "I'll leave you to it."
She looked at him confused, uncertain why he was unsettled by her because she could see it in his eyes. Fortunately, she sensed no danger from him because Buck trusted him, and that was good enough for her.
"Chris," Buck spoke up. "We could use your help."
"I'm no good to you," Chris said, gesturing to Inez to have a bottle ready by the time he reached the counter.
"You know better than that." Buck tried again but had a feeling he would not convince Chris because nothing could reach him any more. Not even him.
"No," Chris shook his head as he looked over his shoulder at the same time he extracted his bottle. "You should."
It was an emotion he seldom felt even though as a soldier, he was familiar with it. It was a companion sitting on his shoulder during every battle, giving enough of itself to permit his survival. A little healthy fear gave one the edge needed to pull through any situation and at this moment, Nathan was feeling more than a healthy dose. He was saturated by it. It was not that he feared to die, on the contrary, if he could die now, it would make this whole situation somewhat tolerable. It was continued existence giving him such anxiety.
His captors had not allowed him the chance to take the graceful exit from this world he desired when the net around him finally dropped. The first thing they did was remove the weapon he carried and then proceeded to conduct a more invasive physical search to ensure he had nothing in possession to allow him a means to shirk the mortal coil. Once they were convinced he could not harm himself, they lumped him in a maximum-security cell, pleased with their catch as they resumed the search for his companion.
Nathan paced the floor of his cage; unable to believe he was caught. He was terrified of what they would learn from him and knew the limbo inside the cell would not last. Eventually, they would come with their drugs and fire knives to make him talk. Torture did not frighten Nathan but succumbing to it, did.
He was a patriot of the Republic, and the choices of his life were made because he would not sit by idly as the New Order ruined lives on a planetary scale. He knew what was asked of him when he became a member of the Rebel Alliance and he would gladly die than betray them. If there was any consolation to be had in this, it was his lack of knowledge regarding the new rebel base. At least that much of the Alliance's secrets would be safe.
His ponderings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps against the metal deck of the cell block. The moment he was captured, Imperial agents transported him off Cordoba, so Nathan had no idea where this was. The mystery location of his prison didn’t matter. Wherever it was, it was a fully garrisoned Imperial base. As he was being brought to his cell through the hanger, he saw enough ships and personnel to indicate the facility was well-armed and capable of repelling any attack from its enemies. Stormtroopers patrolled every corridor while Imperial officers strutted about in their black and green uniforms.
Even if the Alliance were to attempt a rescue, they would never penetrate such strong defences.
His cell was a room with a bunk bed and a utility. It was no more than seven feet across in what was almost a solid block of steel. There were air vents allowed him to breathe, but these were so narrow there was no escape route even if he was foolish enough to try it. The doors were thick and could only be opened from the outside. Interrogators were provided with remote devices to activate the outer mechanism when they were ready to leave.
The doors suddenly slid open, and Nathan stiffened in reaction when two Imperial officers appeared at the entrance. Behind them, were several stormtroopers and Nathan supposed he ought to feel somewhat flattered by their estimation of the threat he posed. Such thoughts vanished when he recognized one of the officers about to take part in his interrogation. The Colonel was no one Nathan was familiar with and judging by the black uniform, he was probably attached to internal security. He stared at Nathan dispassionately, like the predator preparing for a particularly fine feast. Nathan had seen rancors with kinder eyes.
His companion was a captain who was trying hard to hide the emotion in his eyes and would have succeeded if Nathan was not privy to his moods. The Captain looked at Nathan and then straight past him, his sea-coloured eyes fought to hide his distaste at being in this position. Nathan decided there was no reason to burden the man with their association if he did not wish to use it and turned away a second later, breaking the brief eye contact.
"Captain Jackson." The Colonel spoke when the doors slid to a close behind them.
Nathan did not react, intending to remain strong for as long as he could. He was not ashamed of his loyalties, and this was only the preliminary stage of the interrogation. They would try and reason with him first, hoping fear might help loosen his tongue. When that did not work, they would withdraw and come back with equipment that would not be as subtle or as comfortable.
"I am Colonel Taris Nabb of Internal Security. I assume you know what I do?"
"You're one of Palpatine's watchdogs," Nathan stared at him indifferently.
Nabb's face pulled back into a little smile, showing he was not offended. "A watchdog is such a vulgar term, I prefer to think I safeguard the interests of the Empire."
"The Empire is Palpatine." Nathan gave him a look of dislike at his inability to admit that much.
"He is our Emperor."
"Your Emperor." Nathan emphasized, “and an illegal one at that. He was elected Chancellor of the Republic Council, not as God-Emperor of the Universe as he would have everyone believe."
Nathan turned to the Captain, who had yet to speak and offered a silent question. How can you still be wearing that uniform?
Nabb noticed the look and faced Nathan after a quick examination of his companion's emotional state. "I wouldn't look to Captain Standish to extricate you from this situation, Captain Jackson. It was he who identified you for us."
A flicker appeared in the Captain's eyes and Nathan knew it was the truth. His best friend betrayed him.
"In fact," Nabb continued with some relish. "Captain Standish has been absolutely essential in revealing your importance in the Rebel Alliance's network."
Nathan gave Captain Ezra Standish a look bordering on anger and pity with the truth of Nabb's words reflected in Ezra's eyes. They had come through the Academy together. For most of their years in service, they had often served side by side, and when they could not, they were never far from each other's lives. Their friendship had endured much, but it never survived Palpatine's bid to make himself Emperor. Nathan could not stand for it, while Ezra did.
Sometimes, you just had to live with what the dice rolls, Ezra had said.
"He did what he had to." Nathan finally responded and saw Ezra's surprise and more profound sorrow at his understanding. "He's one of you."
"You were one of us." Nabb pointed out. "You could be one again. You are not the first officer to have a crisis of faith, but a soldier must obey the chain of command. You cannot simply dismiss it at your convenience. Now, if you were to tell us what you know about the Alliance, I'm sure after a period of 'rehabilitation', you can be returned to society, with your rank and commission intact."
"I don't know anything that could help you,” Nathan said stubbornly, refusing to entertain the offer on any level.
"You have been a member of the Rebel Alliance since its inception." Nabb countered. "You know who its leaders are, where its bases are located. You will give us that information, make no mistake on that. The choice of how you give it to us is entirely up to you. This can be a painless process or an agonizing one."
Staring him directly in the eyes, Nathan repeated himself. "I don't know anything."
"I’m sorry to hear that,” Nabb sighed though he was unsurprised by the refusal. Nathan’s defiance would be eroded soon enough, and Nabb was confident Nathan Jackson would be more than willing to tell all in due course. They always started out this way, but Nabb knew the application required to shatter that stiff will of resistance.
"We'll meet again, Captain Jackson," Nabb responded and turned on his heels towards the door. He took a few steps forward until he realised Captain Standish had not moved.
"Captain...." He called out, looking over his shoulder.
"I will be along shortly." Ezra Standish answered, not looking at him. "I thought I might have a little more luck convincing my old friend it is prudent to give us the information then to suffer the consequences."
"Very well," Nabb responded, dubious of Ezra's ability to accomplish that. Still, he saw no reason to keep the captain from trying, especially when everything said by the two would be closely monitored anyway.
Ezra returned his attention to Nathan, and neither man spoke until the doors were closed behind them, and they were offered some measure of privacy, though not very much. For a time, neither knew what to say as they found themselves staring at each other, across a vast abyss of ideology with personal belief trapped in the middle.
"They knew we served together," Ezra stated, aware everything he was saying was being overheard. "They had their suspicions regarding your identity and merely required me to confirm it."
"And so you did," Nathan answered with a hint of bitterness.
"I did not have a choice in the matter," Ezra replied. "I am still an Imperial officer under orders, and you are a member of the Rebel Alliance, how did you think I would behave?"
"Like someone who was my friend."
"I am still your friend," Ezra whispered softly, unwilling to show Nathan's words had hurt. "As your friend, I am telling you to give them what they want. The Emperor's orders on the Rebel Alliance is clear. He wants the movement destroyed by any means necessary. Nabb is one of the most ruthless interrogators they have. He knows how to extract information. He will get what he wants from you, dead or alive."
"Then it will have to be dead. I am not giving up anything to anyone."
"Then you are going to die. I have no power to prevent it. If you tell them what they need to know, then you can walk out of this alive."
"Oh come on Ezra!" Nathan burst out in exasperation, unable to believe the words coming out of Ezra’s mouth, not after years of friendship and association. "Weren't you the one who told me you could always spot a con from a mile off? Don't tell me you actually believe once I tell them what I know, they’re going to let me go? The Emperor is about to begin the slavery of every non-human species in the Republic. You've seen what's coming. There is not one non-human officer in the fleet, and that's how it's going to be throughout the Empire, and you expect me to hand over the only people who can stop this? It's a shell game Ezra! The Emperor is softening us up for more atrocities than you can possibly believe. The segregation policy is only the beginning."
"You don’t know that, you’ve been fed Rebel propaganda."
"If I did not know for sure Ezra, I wouldn't be willing to die to keep it from happening." Nathan paused a moment before adding, "you were always a cynic Ezra, I knew that. Maybe that's why we were such good friends because you saw the way the galaxy was and I saw what it could be. Now I'm telling you what it's going to be and it's a nightmare. It’s going to be a long nightmare for billions of people unless it's stopped now."
"I am sorry, Nathan." Ezra shook his head, not knowing what else to say. He was not blind to what was happening. The segregation Nathan spoke of was no mere rumour, it was policy. More and more, he was seeing gifted officers and personnel being discarded because they were not human. If Nathan believed things were going to get worse, Ezra did not doubt it. What he did doubt was the ability of the Alliance to fight the Imperial war machine because he was not the idealist Nathan would have him be. " I cannot help you."
Nathan expected as much and nodded. "I didn't expect you to help me, Ezra, I just hoped there was something left inside of you to see what I'm saying is the truth."
"Truth is written by those who stay alive," Ezra concluded, turning away from Nathan. Facing him like this was becoming too much to bear. Ezra did not want to let Nathan die, and yet he knew of no way to prevent it, except taking the ultimate step that would change his life forever. There was still too much doubt inside of him, not to mention the hope Nathan might be wrong, that the Empire he served was not as unredeemable as Nathan claimed. "I think I would prefer to survive this than fight it. If you were smart, you would consider doing the same."
"I'm sorry for you," Nathan shook his head in distaste. "When I die, at least I know I did it believing in something. That's the difference between living and existing but you, you believe in nothing, and I can't call that living."
Ezra did not answer but continued walking. The door slid open for him before he reached it and in seconds, he was leaving Nathan behind in the cell. Ezra continued down the cell block, the stormtrooper activating the door controls for him following closely behind.
"You knew him, Sir?"
"Once." Ezra found himself answering.
"I heard he won a medal in the Clone Wars."
"He did."
"Wonder how the rebels got to him?" The trooper asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Oh, that was relatively easy," Ezra sighed as images of Ana flashed before him. Ana, with her dark hair and her radiant smile. "His wife was the daughter of a Jedi."
*****
It started to rain when Vin Tanner returned to the tavern later that night. He did not know why he was going back. There was no way Vin could sneak up on the Jedi when the man was able to sense him the minute he stepped off his ship at the spaceport. Still, Vin could not keep from returning because he needed to face Chris Larabee again. The encounter with the Jedi left the usually detached bounty hunter unsettled, and Vin did not like it. Worse yet, he knew with certainty he could not explain, everything the Jedi said to him was true.
He could feel it.
All his life, Vin relied upon intuition to get him through the difficulties of his existence. That second sight, he called his gut instinct, saved him more times than he could count. It provided him with the edge to detect enemies and guided him when Vin was travelling on uncharted ground. He trusted this ability with more faith than he trusted any one person in his entire life. Still, he always wondered what it was that made him so different from other humans, allowing him to see when others could not. Vin saw the world in shades of emotion. He could feel what another being was about to do, even if he could not read their thoughts as such.
When he first heard about the Jedi, Vin thought they were fairy stories told to children.
Of course, when he left Tatooine and went out into the galaxy, he learned the Jedi were real even as the Empire was systematically wiping them out. Vin never gave them a second thought beyond that until the Empire contracted him to find Chris Larabee. From the onset of this mission, he knew something about it drew him to Larabee, something beyond the exorbitant fees the Empire was willing to pay, not to mention his continued existence as a free man. Even the research material about the Jedi opened uncomfortable possibilities Vin forced himself to ignore.
The rain seeped into his skin, pulled his hair around his neck and dangled in wet ringlets around his shoulders. It ran into his eyes and restricted his ability to see as clearly, but Vin sensed no danger around him. Instead, he continued walking towards the tavern where Larabee stayed. Even as Vin approached the establishment, Vin could detect the presence of the man behind the walls. He was sure the Jedi sensed his approach and knew Vin had not come here to kill him.
It was true, Vin only wanted the truth.
When he walked into the tavern soaking wet, he was immediately noticed by Inez behind her counter serving drinks to customers. The patronage had thinned out even more by this hour, and Vin suspected it was very near closing time for the Four Corners Tavern. Her eyes immediately flooded with concern as she cast her gaze upon him and reached beneath a bar to produce a small towel, which she handed to him when she stepped from behind the counter.
"You should not be out in this weather." She said sternly as the thunder rumbled outside in agreement.
Vin wondered if she had forgotten only some hours ago, he pulled a gun on Chris Larabee and threaten an innocent boy in a booth not more than a few feet from where she stood now. He could not understand why she was treating him so well when he was the enemy. "Why?"
"Why?" She looked at him puzzled. "Because the storms on Cordoba are as bad as the heat waves."
"Why are you so nice to me?"
Inez smiled. "I don't have the Force. Not the way Chris does, but I can sense things about people, and I think you are a little lost, and for the first time, you're starting to see the light. I can see you are in trouble and I have no wish to add to that.”
Vin wanted to protest but decided it would be a waste of time. The answers he needed had to come from Larabee. "I need to see him."
Inez nodded and showed him the way.
Chris occupied a room above the tavern, and as Inez led Vin there, he had the impression she did not allow many lodgers. When they stepped into the corridor, he noted many of the rooms though prepared for patrons, were empty. Vin sensed there was a hidden purpose to this place and wondered if Inez was more than she appeared to be. Was she simply a bartender? It was a question for another time because, at the moment, Vin's main concern was Chris Larabee.
"I don't know how coherent he will be," Inez revealed when she opened the door to Chris's room.
"Coherent?"
"He's been drinking." She stepped away sadly, leaving Vin to deal with the Jedi.
Vin nodded slowly and entered the room, preparing to deal with anything. He had no more closed the door behind him when he heard Chris's voice.
"What do you want?"
Vin saw the Jedi sitting up on his bed, nursing a nearly empty bottle. Clad only in his dark pants, the rest of his clothes were an unruly heap on the floor, including more empty bottles of liquor. Vin suddenly realised if he wanted to take the Jedi to his Imperial masters, now would be the time to do it. Chris was undoubtedly drunk enough, and his ability to put up much resistance would be minimal. Even as the thought crossed Vin's mind, the bounty hunter knew he could not do it. The Jedi awakened the need for answers, and until that desire was satisfied, everything else could wait.
"I don't know," Vin whispered, and it was the truth. He wanted answers, but he would be quite content if Chris told him it was all a trick of deception the Jedi was playing on him.
Chris sat up further in the bed and took a final swig of whatever was left in the bottle before tossing it aside. He turned that powerful gaze onto the bounty hunter and said nothing for a few seconds. "You want to know if I was lying."
"I am not Jedi." Vin declared with almost childish defiance.
"No, you're not," Chris did not disagree with that and almost found it funny this bounty hunter would find out the truth about himself when it did him absolutely no good. "But you do have the Force."
"I don't believe in the Force." Vin retaliated. "It's a fairy tale."
Chris snorted in derision and narrowed his eyes as he stared at Vin hard, appearing as if he were in the grips of mild concentration.
"You were born on Tatooine. The only family you ever had was your mother, and she died when you were five or six. You have images of her inside your mind but nothing more concrete than that. The clearest memory you do have of her is the fact before she died, she told you that you were a Tanner and no one could take that away from you."
Vin's jaw dropped open when Chris finished his analysis, his mind reeling in shock at the revelation of the memory he never told anyone.
"How did you know?"
"You're wide open and easy to read. You project as much as you sense from other beings."
"I don't want this." Vin managed to say, feeling exposed and unable to hide under the Jedi's stare. For the first time in his life, he felt vulnerable. It was not a feeling he liked. "I don't want the Force."
"It's not a choice," Chris answered without sympathy. After the losses he incurred in his life, his ability to be touched by another was slight. "We become Jedi because we answer to something greater than ourselves and the belief we can add to the substance of the universe. Not all the Jedi were warriors, some were teachers, healers and explorers. For a thousand years, we ensured the peace, and it was a good feeling to know when we served the Force, others were benefited. It takes a great deal of commitment to be a Jedi even if one is strong in the Force. There are sacrifices to be made by those who take the training. You are strong in the Force, and you could have done anything with your life, even if you did not wish to be a Jedi, but what are you? You're a human scavenger. You use the Force to hunt men down like animals. You come here expecting what from me? Understanding?"
"I did what I had to do to survive. I don't make any excuses for it."
"I'm not here for your absolution. You want to shoot me and take me in, that's your prerogative. I don't care anymore. The Jedi are gone except a small few who managed to hide from Vader and his Emperor. I'm here on borrowed time anyway. Eventually, they'll get me too."
"But you said they would know me. You said they could sense me."
Chris looked at him and laughed. "You don't have to worry. There's a vast difference between having the Force and being able to use it. Vader will know you're hardly a threat to him. They'll kill you if you come into their sights, make no mistake on that, but they won't exactly be hunting you down."
Vin did not like the idea of that at all, even if Chris's words came with something of a reassurance. "And you're just going to sit here and wait for them?"
"If that's my destiny." Chris nodded. "Why do you care anyway?"
Vin opened his mouth to speak but reconsidered his words. "I don't care."
Yet even as he left Chris Larabee to his drunken state, Vin knew he was lying because, for the first time, Vin suddenly felt like he was not entirely alone in the galaxy.
For the first time, Vin had met someone who made him feel like he was apart of something even if that something was extinct.
"We know where he is."
Buck and his guests looked up at Josiah where he was playing host on the Rogue, providing Mary and his new young companion JD shelter from storm troopers patrols and unscrupulous operators alike. Buck, who spent enough time ferrying people as he did cargo, furnished the ship to be amply comfortable for his passengers and was more than happy to provide a safe haven for the lovely rebel leader. While JD Dunne was in no such danger from the Empire, Buck was certain the youth was no safer than Mary, should he fall prey to the likes of Nardo.
Josiah withdrew for the evening after he was certain Mary was in safe hands, to make contact with the rebel underground, hoping to learn the whereabouts of Nathan Jackson. Judging by the persistence of the Imperial stormtroopers still scouring the city, there was no doubt Nathan was captured, and the Empire was now doubly determined to apprehend Nathan's companion. An Imperial patrol had come on board the Rogue and found nothing out of the ordinary. Not when Buck hid Mary and JD in the secret compartments he installed in his ship since becoming a rebel collaborator.
For the reasons of security, Mary chose not to accompany Josiah when he went into town to contact his operatives. There was no reason to compromise their safety by her involvement. Josiah's network of contacts and informants was a valuable resource and not one to squander if she were captured and coerced into talking. At this time, there was also no reason for Mary to know the location of the rebel base when she had the scrambler frequency used for contact if necessary. Until the present crisis passed, Mary intended to limit the level of damage she could do to the Rebellion in the event of capture.
Not that this absolved Josiah of any danger himself. Although Josiah was not a wanted man, having resigned his senatorial position long before Palpatine installed himself as Emperor, he had the foresight to see what was coming. He did not flee like the rest of the rogue Republic Senators. Still, he was identified as no supporter of Palpatine which meant the Emperor's agents were probably keeping close surveillance on him. Furthermore, there was also Nathan to consider. Even though it was only hours since he was captured, Mary couldn't be sure the rebel captain might not have been forced to talk. She was more than aware of the insidious devices the Empire employed to break their prisoners, and though Nathan would die before revealing any of their secrets, he might not have a choice in the matter.
"Where?" Buck asked as they converged in what was the main passenger compartment. The area was furnished with comfortable seats that were bolted to the floor surrounding a circular table acting not only as a dining surface but also as a gaming table for a small selection of holo-vids.
"They're keeping him in the Imperial stronghold on Cordoba." Josiah removed his cloak and sat in one of the vacant seats. The group had just sat to dinner when Josiah arrived, and Mary poured him a drink from the bottle of spice wine Buck supplied from his ship's stores along with rations.
"There's not much of an Imperial presence here." Mary nodded, knowing something of the station. Garrisoned with stormtroopers acting as the local constabulary with a handful of ships at their disposal, their primary duty was to protect the main trading lanes. This far from the core worlds, the danger of smugglers and pirates was very real. Still, by the same token, the majority of commercial enterprises taking place this far out was not exactly sanctioned by the Empire either. "They are equipped with enough men to police the city and man the ships needed to guard the space lanes. They're not set up to deal with a prisoner of Nathan's importance. Most of the officers and personnel on the Cordoba station do not get posted here voluntarily. Chances are their orders would be to hold him until someone with more expertise can interrogate him."
"You're right," Josiah nodded in admiration at her acumen in already deducing what he was about to reveal. "The advantage of Imperial personnel who aren't exactly Grand Moff material is they're easily bought. My contact, one such example, informs me they've been given strict orders no one be allowed to speak to him because he is to be moved in five hours. They're taking him off-world on an Imperial shuttle."
"That means they'll have to rendezvous with a warship. The Empire will take him to a fully secured Imperial installation where they will begin the interrogation, most likely by an expert in torture. They'll break him by any means necessary, or they'll kill him in the process." She did not want to add how many friends, loyal followers of the Alliance, who had succumbed to torture even though they were some of the most reliable people she knew.
"If he talks..." Buck shuddered to think of the far-reaching consequences. Nathan not only knew much about the Rebel Alliance but he also had a good knowledge of most of its undercover operatives, Buck included. Although Buck felt ashamed to think it, he knew if Nathan were forced to reveal any of this, Buck would be just as marked. Buck was mortified by his selfishness even if the fear was entirely justified.
"Well, he hasn't yet," Mary refused to allow such dark thoughts to creep into their minds when there was still a chance they might be able to save Nathan. Such an atmosphere of gloom was more crippling to Nathan's plight than the formidable defences awaiting them if they attempted a rescue. Easing back into her seat, she nursed the glass in her hand and considered their options, or rather option, since there seemed to be only one real solution to the problem.
"Once he gets where he's going, we'll never reach him. We can be assured of that if nothing else." No one refuted her statement, but Mary's manner indicated she was already attempting to circumvent this obstacle as her eyes sparkled with the glimmer of the plan taking shape in her mind.
"They'll have to rendezvous with another ship," Buck mused. "They can't intend to take him wherever he has to go on a shuttle. One X-wing is enough to knock that bird out of the sky, I can't believe they won't be sending something with a little more teeth. I'm guessing it's a Star Destroyer that will rendezvous with them."
"Yes," Mary nodded. "That's what I thought too. We have the same problem there. If he is taken on board a Star Destroyer, we'll never get him back. The Emperor is determined to get every last one of us."
"Nice to be wanted." Josiah joked even though there was no humour in his expression. In truth, he was trying to be brave, to be the paragon of control and serenity everyone expected him to be. Sometimes, Josiah could be just as unsettled and afraid as the next person. He was only more practised at hiding it because there was still something left of the politician he once was.
"Excuse me, Miss Travis," JD spoke up, having listened all this time and finally feeling bold enough to make a suggestion. Although he knew he was over his head and consorting with any of the people present was enough to get him thrown into a prison cell forever as a rebel conspirator, JD could not help admire their devotion to their comrade. JD could not believe people who cared so much about their own could be the disruptive elements the Empire claimed. Besides, Buck helped him when there was no reason for the pilot to do so. "Can we get to him before the shuttle reaches the Destroyer?"
Mary gave the young man a radiant smile. "I was thinking the same thing."
"Really?" JD asked, feeling a little relieved he had not made a fool of himself and was inordinately proud he had made the same guess as a seasoned military officer.
"Yes," she gave him a little wink and turned back to Buck. "A shuttle can carry a decent regiment of Imperial troops, but they're not much of a threat in close quarters. Certainly, they can surround Nathan and make boarding a very complicated process, but in actual truth, when it is in space, that will be when the shuttle is at its most vulnerable. If we can intercept it before it meets the Destroyer and detonate a low-level dispersion field across the hull, it could create enough electrostatic shock to render everyone unconscious for a short time."
"Enough for us to get on board and grab Nathan without any fuss." Buck grinned, liking the idea of snatching Nathan from right under the Empire's noses. There was something oddly satisfying about it. "He'll have a little headache, but he won't be any worse for wear."
"Sounds like a plan but we don't have much time," Josiah declared, reminding them of certain realities they could not ignore if they were going to do this. He turned to Buck, hoping the pilot understood what he meant by that. Until this moment, they had been operating on the assumption it would be a rebel cell undertaking the rescue. However, the reality of the situation made that impossible. Five hours was not enough time to throw together a task force and get them to Cordoba.
"I'll go," Buck replied, letting out a heavy sigh. "My neck is just as much on the block as Nathan's." The pilot raised his eyes to meet Josiah's. "If they make him talk, then my involvement is going to come out, and I'll be just as marked. If I'm going to be an outlaw, it might as well be by doing this instead of anything else."
"Thank you, Buck," Mary offered him a warm smile. "Well, that's you and me."
"I'll come with you," JD spoke up.
"Absolutely not," Buck said automatically without even having to think about it. "Not a chance in hell."
"I agree," Mary responded. "JD, this is very dangerous. You have no reason to put your whole life in danger. I thank you for the thought, but we won't let you throw your future away."
"Future?" JD looked at her pointedly. "What future? If the Empire is going to do half of what you said it will, I don't have much of a future. I almost became a slave today because the Empire lets that sort of thing happen right under its noses. I don't want to see that happen to anyone else and if fighting them is what it takes then I'm all for it. Buck," JD turned to the older man. "I don't know you that long, but I know I trust you and I also know you wouldn't be willing to risk your life for something that wasn't important. I want to come with you because I want to do the same."
Buck was not easily convinced, but JD appeared determined. "Kid, do you know what could happen to you if we're caught?"
"Yeah," JD nodded. "I do, and I also think that I'm old enough to make a choice. You need my help anyway. If you run into any Imperial ships, you can't fly the Rogue and fight them off at the same time. I'm not a great pilot, but I know my way around a gunnery turret. I used to do a lot of target shooting when I was pod racing to clear the obstacles in the circuit. I know I can help you."
"Are you sure, son?" Josiah questioned the boy once more, impressed by his words and having the strangest feeling that JD was going to surprise them all. "Once you come with us, there's no turning back."
JD offered the older man a wry smile. "I don't think there was any turning back the moment I hopped a transport to leave home. Yeah, I'm sure."
Josiah nodded and turned to Buck. "Kid sounds like he knows his mind."
Buck frowned, unhappy about the decision he was about to make but realising he had no choice. JD was right, he did need help, and it was also JD’s choice to fight the battles he wanted. The fight for a better tomorrow was a good a reason as any to die. Buck supposed he had no right to stand in JD's way.
"Alright," Buck conceded defeat. "You can come with us, but you listen to everything I tell you, you hear me?"
"I hear you," JD replied grinning, too pleased he was being allowed to go to argue with any of Buck's conditions.
"We should get going soon," Mary announced once the issue of JD was settled.
"Mary," Josiah took a deep breath as he prepared to say what he was about to, fully aware she would not like it. For what they were about to do, he could not remain silent either. "I think you should stay."
Mary blinked and stared at the former senator as if he had gone utterly insane. "Stay? What do you mean, stay?"
"I mean between the two of us, you have more recent contact with Alliance headquarters. If this rescue attempt goes wrong, then you will be more dangerous to the Alliance with what you know than I would be. What I know can only hurt the local cell, what you know can damage the entire organisation."
"I am not going to stay behind and let you do the fighting for me, Josiah." Mary burst out imperiously, her eyes blazing at the mere suggestion. "The three of you can't take on that ship!"
"We're not taking on the ship," Buck added his voice to Josiah's argument, infuriating the rebel leader even more. "We're going to board a shuttle full of unconscious people, take the one we want and get the hell out before anyone comes to. In actual truth, it's really a minimal personnel operation."
"Oh, really?" Mary folded her arms and looked at him dubiously. "This would not be some archaic masculine attempt to protect me?"
"Would I be so base?" Buck stared at her dubiously, his face full of mock hurt. "I only get archaic when I treat women like sex objects."
Mary rolled her eyes. "I admire your ability to be so distinct."
"Mary," Josiah spoke once more, his voice taking on a note of gravity, she knew she could not stand up to because he seldom used it unless he was right. It was the voice that made him such an able orator in the Senate and why the body was sorely missed without his presence. "You know we have to make sacrifices for the cause. You can't place yourself at risk. We need you too much. The rest of us," he glanced at Buck and JD, "are expendable, but you're not."
"Thanks," Buck muttered but could not argue with Josiah's words.
Mary felt the sudden rise of bile in her throat, and she forced it away to put on a brave face. Inwardly, she knew he was right. She had to stay behind. Risking one of them was acceptable, but both was irresponsible. He was right, she was too valuable to risk capture and she also knew sacrifices needed to be made by all of them.
Even if that sacrifice was her pride.
They were playing some kind of game with him.
That was the only thing that Nathan could fathom as he continued this endless waiting game trapped inside his cell. Ever since his meeting with Ezra, Nathan was waiting for the interrogation to begin, certain they would make him endure all kinds of torture to extract the information he would never give them alive. Nathan steeled himself for the agony and was resolved to die in the effort to resist. When he joined the movement, Nathan knew he could be called upon to make such a sacrifice and held no fear of dying, though like any rational person Nathan would like to avoid death if he could. However, he lived by a soldier's code and did not find dying for what he believed to be a distasteful way to end his life.
Yet as the seconds ticked by and the minutes stretched into hours, Nathan could feel a little of that resolve shaking as the waiting game continued.
With nothing to do but wait in silence for the inevitable, he realised he was falling prey to the effects of the mind game they were playing with him. He refused to get caught in their cruel attempts to erode his patience and knew if this was a waiting game, then he was only experiencing the initial stages of it. Perhaps they were attempting a different tact beyond torture, aware Nathan would never give them what they needed, no matter how much pain he was subjected to and the disadvantages of such extreme interrogation could risk their subject's life.
As the time continued to stretch forward in long, tedious blocks, Nathan found himself pacing the floor of his cell, talking to himself and doing everything required to occupy his mind and not allow it to become sluggish and more susceptible to coercion. He wondered if Ezra had any part of this plan and was overcome with sadness every time he remembered their lost friendship. Despite his attempts to hide it earlier, the exchange with Ezra had been just as emotionally draining for him as he was sure it would have been to his oldest friend in the world. Nathan knew it was not Ezra's fault they now found themselves on opposite sides. Circumstances changed the world they knew and drew a line of battle straight through their friendship. Inwardly, Nathan knew this day would come. Ever since he had chosen to join the Alliance, it was inevitable.
He wondered whether Ezra had known it too.
Ezra was the first person Nathan met upon joining the Academy. Their friendship saw them through much, and Ezra had stood by his side during his matrimonial ceremony to Ana. Thinking of Ana made the pain doubly worse, and in the confines of his solitary cell, Nathan forced the images of her away from his mind. If she were still alive, they would have been celebrating their eighth wedding anniversary by now. Ana's death was the final impetus for him to leave the Empire behind, even though the changing political currents had been gnawing at his conscience for some time.
It was odd how love could alter the course of a man's life even when the object of that affection no longer breathed in this world. He had not been there when she died, but when the news of the purges reached him, he raced home praying the executioners would not have been so ruthless in the undertaking of their orders. Ana never showed any interest in becoming a Jedi despite her father's place on the Jedi Council. She was a schoolteacher on Coruscant, a very good one because the Force gave her the ability to reach her students on a very personal level.
Although no one dared point the finger at the Empire over the deaths, everyone knew who was responsible for the slaughter. The Emperor's dislike of the Jedi was a fanatical crusade, and to the select few who suspected he was a Sith Lord, it made expected. By then Palpatine was firmly in power and those who would keep him there were just as secure. Ana's death went unanswered, and Nathan walked away from the last remnants of his old life, including Ezra.
Nathan felt no real animosity towards his old friend for remaining an Imperial officer. Ezra's background was chequered, to say the least, and his world had always been one of shadows, where injustices occurred more often than they should. If there was ever an idealist inside Ezra Standish, the years had surely driven it away.
Ezra's background was far removed from Nathan's own privileged upbringing. Nathan's father was an ambassador while Ezra never knew his father and was mostly raised by a mother who kept company with the likes of Jabba the Hutt and Black Sun. The lady resided in the Corporate Sector these days, having parlayed a life of cons into a lucrative business involving gambling and entertainment. It was into this world Ezra had become a man, and from this, he was desperate to escape.
Ezra gained admission into the Academy but was never truly regarded as anything more than the offspring of an unsavoury parent. The action made Ezra determined to show his peers he was better than they and Nathan recalled how voraciously Ezra strove to excel. While he succeeded at the Academy, Ezra's military career was lacklustre. Nathan knew it was not for the lack of ability, because Nathan always felt Ezra had brilliant depths, he was afraid to expose for fear of failure if called upon to rise to the occasion.
It was during these ruminations the door to his cell slid open, and his friend made a surprise appearance. Ezra entered the room alone this time and Nathan was further confused by what the Imperials were intending for him. Did they think his association with Ezra would make him betray the Rebellion? If so, they were in for a disappointment. As much as he valued his friendship with Ezra or what smoky ruins remained of it, he would never betray the Alliance.
"What do you want?" Nathan demanded, irked by the thought.
"I came to see how you were faring in this harsh environment," Ezra remarked, casting his gaze over the cell with apparent dislike.
"I'm doing fine. Are you here to soften me up?"
"No," Ezra shook his head. "They are not particularly interested in you, Nathan."
"I'm sure they aren't," he said dubiously, knowing better. Nathan had a great deal of information in his head. He was confident they would love to get their hands on it. Ezra may be here out memory to their past friendship, but Ezra could not be foolish enough to think the Empire would not torture him to get what they wanted.
"You do not understand my commanding officer," Ezra sighed, giving Nathan a long look. "He does not wish to capture the minions residing at the bottom of the food chain. He is after someone with a little more information. You do have tasty morsels inside your head without doubt, but I believe he may be interested in a feast."
Nathan began to develop an awful feeling about what Ezra was inferring. It was always so damned hard to read the man, even though they were best friends. Aside from being an Imperial officer, Ezra was also the best-damned card player this side of the galaxy and his ability to wear a poker face like no other was a testament to this fact. However, through the cracks of his indifferent facade, Nathan began to see what Ezra was trying to tell him without actually coming out and saying it.
"They're not after me, are they?"
"Nabb was aware that someone of importance was arriving on Cordoba but did not have any of the details. They were more interested in capturing your companion than they were of you. The failure to do so means Nabb is getting creative and plans to exploit your capture."
Nathan's breath caught in his throat as the full implications of what Ezra was trying to tell him seeped into his mind. "I'm the bait?"
Ezra nodded grimly. "I am afraid you are. Once the real target is acquired, they will execute you."
This did not surprise Nathan. He had more or less expected such an outcome but gave it no more thought than that because he was too frightened for the Empire's real target. It did not take him long to realise who it was they really wanted and knowing that filled the captain with no small amount of despair.
"Mary." He raised his eyes and caught Ezra's. "You're after Mary."
"She is one of the most brilliant commanders in the fleet. Did you think the Empire was simply going to allow all that potential to be used for the service of its enemies? They will do anything to retrieve her Nathan, and they will use anyone. You are nothing to them, just a pawn who will serve a brief purpose. Nabb wanted me to be the one to tell you, you have been scheduled for termination as soon as Commander Travis is in custody."
"She isn't in custody yet," Nathan said defiantly, unable to look at Ezra even though he could tell it gave his old friend no pleasure to be the one to reveal this truth to him. "She's not stupid enough to take the bait. If she has to sacrifice me for the cause, I'm sure she will."
"Nathan," Ezra shook his head sadly because Nathan did not see. "Why did you think Nabb wanted you captured so badly? If it were anyone else, he would not have bothered, but you are too important to the Rebellion to be left to languish in our hands. They used you because they knew you would bring her out."
"You keep saying them," The prisoner glared at him and pointed out. "You're one of them, Ezra."
"Maybe so," Ezra returned not about to let that minor detail obscure everything else. "But I am still your friend."
"Then be a friend. Get out! You've done your bit. You've told me I'm the worm twisting on the hook. I release you from any obligation you think you have towards me because all you've become is that uniform."
"I am not the one who destroyed our friendship!" Ezra shouted angrily, feeling the sting of those words more than he would like. "You did that when you turn your back on your life!"
"My life was over when Ana died!"
"No, it was not," Ezra sighed as he started towards the door. "But when they capture Mary Travis, it will be."