Chapter Thirteen

   “What’s this?  An old spacers party?”

Grin shook his scaly alien head in disbelief as he surveyed the faces before him.  Glann’s men had arrived at the Breemarr Trading Station, in orbit over Soluman as instructed, some the better for their journeys and some the worse. Like most starports and space stations, Breemarr Station had a Zythlies, and it was crammed to the walls with Glann’s agents and regular space-lane patrons.  Many were drinking and socialising, some were engaged in the usual underground gossip.  Some of them were tucked away in corners whispering to loved ones they hadn’t seen for a while, or swapping dangerous secrets between themselves.  It was abuzz with life and excitement and the anticipation was tangible.  Grin had arrived with Ryath Centaur after hooking up with him at the Kansonn Velee spaceport on Cantarr Bi Romou.  It was there that Grin had told him of the details of the Soluman mission.  Instead of remaining on Cantarr Bi Romou to run cover for the Sunrise team they were to re-group at Soluman.  Ryath agreed reluctantly, after Grin had offered him a hefty fee for his trouble and offered Grin a lift.  After all, said Centaur with a wry grin, after what I’ve just been through on Moot Soluman can’t possibly be any worse.  Grin had nodded in serious, straight-faced agreement. 

Can’t get any worse.  What an optimist. 

   “So Grin, I understand you’ve been elected spokesman for this little get together?”  It was Quenda Suncharr, one of Glann’s best runners.  Grin shrugged his tatty shoulders as he swiped a half-finished drink from a table he was passing.

   “Looks like it. Everyone’s here.  Tarr Ranth, Centaur, Prarn Hinney, Mikk Carling.  Well, almost everyone.  Where’s Galletti?” 

Suncharr looked around nervously, and Grin couldn’t help but notice.  Galletti and Suncharrs on-going vendetta had been raging for years.  Even though they both worked for Cipple, that vendetta had never abated. Grin silently hoped that the fiery-tempered Suncharr could see this wasn’t the time for petty, personal squabbles. Enemy agents would leap at the opportunities in fighting presented to them.

   “I don’t know where Galletti is and I don’t care.  If you ask me this entire operation would go a lot smoother without his interference.” 

Grin pulled an annoyed face.

   “Yeah, well no-one asked your opinion, so shut up.  We need all the help we can get.  This is going to be hard enough as it is.” 

Suncharr shot Grin a nasty glare and slinked off to the bar.  Grin once again surveyed the room.  There were easily fifty of Glann’s operatives scattered throughout Breemarr Station, with many more on the way.  The instruction had been clear - gather as many as possible on the station, make sure they’re aware of their mission, and then travel down to Devlins Island, the location of their mission.  But before then Grin had a briefing to do, and it was time to begin.  Of the two hundred expected to arrive for the mission, fifty men and women had so far gathered on the station.  Five of them were section leaders and, noticing the nod from Grin, they made their way to the rear of Zythlies and seated themselves around an unoccupied table.  Grin took a deep breath and began.

   “Okay, we all know why we’re here.  This could be the most important moment of our lives.  We have to make sure we don’t screw things up.” 

One of the five, a burly Aqualish called Filarf Toon, leaned in close to Grin.

   “What’s all this `we’ business?  I’ve only ever seen you parked at the bottom of a ramp.” 

Grin backed up slightly.  The last Aqualish he’d encountered had been quivering angrily at him back on Chancai.  Even though Toon was an ally, he didn’t relish the thought of making him angry.

   “Glann sent me here for a few reasons.  First, to alert as many of his agents as possible, which I’ve done.  Second, to pass on any messages.  I’m a ramp-hopper after all.  Passing messages and skanking free trips is my job.  Thirdly, who’s going to waste time bumping off a non-entity like me?  I’ve had a free ride out here, which I’m sure is more than can be said for any of you.” 

There was a collective rumble of agreement as Grin continued. 

   “Glann knows we can handle this if we all pull together. Almost everyone’s here.  We’ve just got to make the enemy think that Lomonas coming to Soluman.”  He paused a moment.  “If he’s still alive.”  

Norto Hyl, a scaly Sikkarian raised his chin in a gesture of agreement.

   “You make sense Grin.  Assuming the Sunrise team is still active, if we fail to convince the enemy that Lomona is travelling here, then the search for the Sunrise will continue.” 

Grin nodded, catching the attention of a passing server-droid as he did so.

   “Five Duargas and a plate of Cockons.  Yes, if we mess this up then the heats back on.  Once everyone’s ready we go down.  There’s already enemy agents on Soluman.  We know they’ve got the disk information.  Why would they wait?” 

Seffun Tessae laughed softly as she leaned over the table, her long flowing blonde hair tumbling over the surface.  All eyes fell upon her.

   “Come on Grin.  If Dressel and the others are half as clever as we think they are they’ll have figured out that the disks decoded together.  At the same time.  You don’t think that’s going to alert them to the fact that this is an elaborate trap?” 

Grin nodded, taking the tray of food and drinks and handing over his cred-stick.  His five companions looked on in amazement.

   “What?  I’m on expenses, okay?” 

They relaxed.  The sight of Grin paying for anything was as rare as Jan Lomona being described as monogamous. 

Grin pushed on. 

   “I know what you’re saying Seff.  But these guys are too arrogant and self-confident to be paranoid about traps.  And anyway, they can look after themselves.  I’ll be surprised if they don’t put up more than just a good fight.” 

Their other two section leaders Hapgit and Spine, a pair of scuzzy humans from Leogard, downed their drinks.  Spine leaned in.

   “What’s the latest news?  What’s happened to Lomonas team?” 

   “I’m not sure. As I said, last I heard they were presumed dead.  But I don’t buy that for a second.  Lomonas too resourceful to get tagged, and the women with him on the Sunrise are way too skilled - they’re on their way to their final destination, you can be sure of that.  Glann’s back on Amagad sorting things out.  Everyone else is out in the field or here over Soluman.  We’ve just got to wait and see what happens.  Oh, and guys?” 

The five all looked back at Grin as he began to leave the table. 

   “Jan Lomona is coming here to Soluman to dig up a long-lost treasure for Glann Cipple.  You know different and so do I.  But your men don’t.  Make sure it stays that way.” 

They all nodded in agreement.  It had been made crystal clear that no one else was to know about the true Lomona mission.  As far as the two hundred operatives were concerned, Jan Lomona, his team and the Berone Sunrise were coming to Soluman.

Grin spotted Ocern Gabe entering Zythlies and made his way toward him through the throng.  Grin acknowledged him with a warm nod and searched for a table.  They were all occupied.

   “….if she came riding in on a Gundark wearing a top hat.  Hey Grin!” 

Grin noticed a table occupied by three riffy-looking men. One of them, dressed in a frayed leather overcoat was waving him over. 

   “Take this one, we’re moving on.” 

Grin smiled in thanks as they vacated the table and he and Gabe seated themselves, huddling in closer to talk in private.

   “Good to see you Gabe.  It’s been a while since I last sat on your ramp.” 

Gabe raised his eyebrows in recollection.

   “It has.  I had the Daknene back then, but that was years ago.  Has it really been that long?” 

Grin nodded slowly.  It had.  Where do the years go?

   “It sure has.  Guess we’re ready for the breakers yard too.” 

Gabe laughed his infectious laugh and slapped his large hands on the wooden tabletop.

   “Don’t count me out just yet.  I’ve got a lifetime of things to do and I don’t want to cash my chips in just yet.”

   “Me neither.” Smiled Grin.  “So, what do you know?”  Ocern Gabe’s Ishi Tibb face creased as he leaned in closer.

   “Come with me to my ship. We can talk freely there.” 

Grin nodded as he rose to his feet.

   “Great.  Guess this means I’ll get to see your latest ramp.”

The Salern was indeed an inspiring starship.  Its graceful lines tailed down the starcruiser like liquid metal, ending in a smooth formation of nosecone and cockpit.  Grin was impressed with Gabe’s vehicle.  Very impressed indeed.

   “How’d you afford a mover like this on Glanns pay?” 

Gabe scratched his fan-faced head and adjusted the catch on his Blaster belt.  Better safe than sorry.

   “Watch the deci-credits and the credits look after themselves.  Come on, I’ll show you inside.”  Gabe lowered the ramp and led the way, beckoning for Grin to follow. 

   “Rubber-coated strip.  Beldena hydraulic pistons, this is a real dream of a ramp.”  He turned to Gabe.  “Nice piece.”

   “What is it with you and ramps anyway?” 

Grin looked surprised.

   “You don’t know?  It’s simple really.  As I see it, ramps are a spacer’s way in and his way out.  Some guys spend their entire working lives just trawling their way up and down these things.  They’re like comfortable shoes.  You can tell a lot about a man by the state of his ramp.” 

Gabe grinned.

   “Oh, so you’re a philosopher now? What does this ramp say about me?” 

Grin shrugged his shoulders.

   “You’ve got another exit off the ship.  Come on.”  Grin moved past Gabe and found his way to the cockpit as Gabe secured the ramp. He inspected the walkway for the telltale signs of….whatever.  Lousy Ramp-foot philosophers.

   “So, the latest news.”  Asked Grin.  “What’s going on?  I’ve just briefed the section leaders about what to do on Soluman but I’ve been out of touch for a few days myself.  My information is out of date.”  Grin relaxed in Gabe’s pilots seat, stretching his legs over the console and scratching his thigh. 

Gabe remained standing, but cast a disapproving eye on Grins rag-swathed legs on his clean console.

   “I finally got word from Lomona.  He had some trouble on Janos, but it’s sorted out. The teams on its way to Luronsa IV to hook up with Feese, and from there they’ll go to their final destination.” 

Grin nodded.  He knew Gabe didn’t know the location of the final planet either.  Only a select few did, and they weren’t telling.  This need-to-know business was demeaning to the more intelligent members of Glanns operation, but it certainly insured security.  “In the meantime we have our hands full with this mission here on Soluman.  Our latest intelligence reports tell us that the Repressor is on its way.” 

Grin raised an eyebrow at this.

   “Treeces ship?  What would he be doing this far away from Zelon?  He only leaves if he’s running low on good wine or women.” 

Gabe smiled again.

   “We’re not sure.  Galletti spotted him while he was over Janos and tracked him until he jumped into hyperspace.  We don’t know if he’s involved in this plot against Glann but we do know one thing.”

   “Treece hates Glanns guts.”

   “Correct.”  Gabe sat opposite Grin.  “Glann’s been notified of this.  Everything’s in place now, all the pieces are ready.  Dressels on his way, so are Spyte, Formoon and the others.  We can expect them in orbit soon.” 

Grin smiled grimly.

   “And they’ll be expecting what?  Us guys zipping up our own body bags to save them the effort?” 

   “No, better than that.  Glanns stolen disk had a few spoilers on it, a few surprises.  One of them was the location of the Heed. Right here on Soluman.” 

Grin laughed out loud.

   “The Heed?  So that’s the secret buried treasure is it?” 

Gabe shook his head.

   “That’s what they think. The only thing they’ll find on Soluman is us waiting for them.  And when they do….” 

Grin grinned.  It sounded like a plan.

   “So what’s our next move?  I’ve been instructed to shoot my mouth off about Lomona around the tapcafes and cantinas on the station. I think that’s why Glann had me sent over here.”

   “Make as much noise as you want.  Talk about Lomona like he’s the fifth coming.  Draw those sons-of-Womps right in.  Make sure they think Lomonas on his way here to claim the Heed.   And once they’re all ready to strike, then we’ll deal with them properly.”  Gabe thumped his hand into his waiting palm with emphasis.

Grin stood and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

   “How?” 

Gabe smiled his strange alien smile.

   “You’ll see.”

Jan Lomona eased the Berone Sunrise out of hyperspace right on the edge of the Luronsa system and killed all non-essential systems.  Then, with the experienced hand of a man who’d done the manoeuvre many times he operated the sensor suite and ran a passive scan of the system, scanning hawk-like for any enemy starships.  After a few tense moments he relaxed.  Nothing of any consequence, nothing to worry himself about.  Frans breathed out an even, relieved breath and began re-initialising ships systems for the journey towards Luronsa IV.  Terrie was occupied with her reports, back in the communications seat and Paige was in her quarters.

   “Systems clear Terrie.”  Jan swivelled around in his seat to face her.  “What’s the next step?  Comm our operative on an open channel or take an advert out on the local NewsNet?” 

Terrie didn’t even look up from her report, she simply continued to writing down notes.  Jan grinned at Frans who smiled back.  He’d tried, he’d really tried to help Terrie grasp the extent of his humour.  But nothing that he said seemed to placate her.  Or impress her.  Come to think of it, the last twenty hours in hyperspace had been the longest amount of time during the trip that Jan and Terrie hadn’t spoken. It was as if she was avoiding him.  But why?  He smirked to himself.  Maybe the old Lomona charm is working after all and she’s blocking me out to resist my magnetic attraction?  Or maybe it was indigestion.  Paige had insisted on cooking breakfast for the crew, to limited success.  It looked so inorganic he wouldn’t have wished it on Aurran.  Paige knew she’d created the culinary equivalent of a Dagobah Swamp Slug but her smile was worth the pain as he’d eaten the….meal.  His fingers still had the touch when it came to piloting but his stomach would forever bare the scars.

   “So, Agent Saffra.  Who’s the lucky guy joining the crew?  Someone with social skills?  Like you?” 

Terrie glanced up briefly, bundled her papers under her arm and left the cockpit. 

Jan blew out his breath through his lips. 

   “She needs to lighten up.”

   “Yes dear.”  Said Frans wearily.  Lomona turned.

   “What?  I’m sorry, but this has been one of the most….awkward jobs I’ve done for Glann, and her sitting there with a face like a Gran isn’t helping matters.”

   “I know that, but you do go on.  Give it a rest for five minutes.”

   “Oh great!  What’s up with you now?” 

Frans stood from her seat swiftly, agilely swung her leg across Jan in his chair and eased herself right into his lap, looking down on his surprised face.  Her flowing red locks fell around him, and he couldn’t help but let slip a dirty smile.  It was a very good view.

   “Listen lover.  You annoy Terrie.  She annoys you.  You both annoy me, but I’m only in love with one of you.”

   “Oh, so there’s another woman - “

   “ - shut up.  Once we pick up this other passenger it’s a ten-day trip to Abrogard. Once we’re there we can have some time to ourselves and forget these other distractions.  How does that sound to you?” 

Jan slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

   “Sounds good to me honey.”  He thought for a moment.  “You’re right.  I’ll ease up on Terrie and concentrate on the job.  I’m good when I’m concentrating on the job.”  Frans smiled coyly and kissed him softly.

   “I’ve never had any complaints.”

Terrie strode back to her quarters, feeling the familiar thump of the hyperdrive systems as they lurched back for a mini-jump, and found Paige sifting through the drawer looking for something.  Terrie dropped her papers onto an empty chair and joined her young friend.

   “What have you lost?” 

Paige snapped her hands onto her hips and growled angrily.

   “What haven’t I lost!  This ship is hopeless.  No wonder he’s training me as a mechanic, everything needs fixing or replacing. My clothes have fallen down the back of the drawer, my lip-stick has rolled under the floor grating and I can’t find the photo of my Mom.” 

Terrie patted Paige on her shoulder, twisting her around to face her.

   “Your clothes I can’t help you with.  You can borrow my make-up.  As for your photo….”  Terrie slid open the locker nearest the door and reached up, unclipping a plastic folder and pulling it down.  Paige grinned again as she realised what it was.

   “Wow, the photo.  That’s the second time you’ve saved it for me.  Where was it?”

   “On the floor, next to your bunk.  I thought it would be safer if I looked after it for a while.  I’d hate for you to lose it.” 

Paige smoothed out the water-stained photo and sat on the edge of the bed, caressing the lines of her mother’s face and smiling at her own infant image cradled in her mothers arms. 

   “Have you decided what to do about Jan?”  Began Terrie.  “Times running out you know. After we pick up our passenger on Luronsa it’s a straight run to the final planet, and once we finish there this job will be over.” 

Paige frowned, confusion reigning over her smooth features.

   “What do you mean?  Do you think Jan will kick me off?” 

Terrie sat next to Paige on the bed and placed a consoling hand on her shoulder.

   “I didn’t say that.  But I’ll probably get re-assigned after we complete the deal, so that’s one ally less you’ll have.  And things change.  Jan and Frans are trying to sort their own lives out, he might not want you around.  Not unless he’s certain you’re who you say you are.” 

Paige nodded slowly.  They’d been over this many times, usually in the middle of the night when neither of them could settle.  But now, so close to the end of their time together, it was beginning to worry her.  What if I can’t convince Jan that he’s my father?  What if Frans decides that a teenage girl on the ship is a distraction she can do without?  How can I compete with that? 

   “I’ve got to make him see that I’m his girl.”  Paige began with determination.  “And I know just how to do it.”

   “How - “ Began Terrie, just as the comm system sizzled into life and Jan’s voice rang through the Berone Sunrise.

   “Could you guys come up to the cockpit, we’re about to enter Luronsa IV’s atmosphere.” 

Terrie smiled at Paige and slid the folder back into the locker, shutting the door too.

   “We’ll talk more about this later.  Come on.” 

Together, they exited their quarters and stepped around the corner to the cockpit.  Frans had vacated the co-pilots seat and was standing next to the Astrogation computer.  Jan finished fiddling with the refitted signal booster and swiped his headphones off.

   “Ready to contact our Luronsa IV operative?”  He asked Terrie politely.  Swinging a curious glance at Frans she seated herself and took over the comm controls.

   “Yes Captain, I’m ready.”  Terrie altered a couple of switches and waited for the heavy crackle of static to die down.  “This is Agent Terrie Saffra, broadcasting on secure channel Omega 1082.  Security code AFA91B Gamma.  `The Fish Is In The Pond’, repeat, `The Fish Is In The Pond’, over.” 

Jan closed his eyes and looked down at his boots, while Frans shook her head in amused disbelief and looked out of the cockpit window. No wonder Terrie had been so quiet for the last twenty hours.  The fish is in the pond?  Who else could it be?

   “Agent Saffra.  Lomona.  Land at these co-ordinates.”  The console of the Sunrise began to receive a data-burst of information.  “And hurry. I can’t stand this carnival any longer.  Feese out.” 

Terrie looked up at Jan through her fringe, too embarrassed to face him properly.  Paige shrugged her shoulders.

   “What’s the problem?  Why’s everyone so quiet?” 

Jan threw a thumb at Terrie as he moved out of the cockpit.

   “Ask Commando Queen here.  She obviously knows a lot more than she’s letting on.”

The ISD Repressor glided gracefully to a halt seventeen thousand kilometres over the main ocean of Soluman and rested.  At her bridge, Grand Moff Den Treece surveyed the world below with a smug and contented eye.  Finally, his moment was at hand.  The moment when he would finally reel in that arrogant crook Cipple and show him who was really in charge of the Setnin Sector.  Everything was prepared, everything in place.  His consortium of ganglords had, so far, performed well.  Treece had yet to involve Imperial troops on more then a routine basis.  Activity reigned throughout the bridge.  Treeces staff had been told that they were on a routine inspection of starports, arriving at worlds chosen by the Moff himself.  While at Janos, an inspection frigate had been deployed and deposited troops at Janos’ main starport on the continent of Woron.  Little had been done whilst there, simply routine procedures carried out by the inspection teams.  Certain high-ranking officers aboard the Repressor had questioned the sense in sending out a fully armed and battle-ready Star Destroyer on a simple inspection tour when a smaller, less unwieldy vehicle would have done the same mission and at half the cost.  Of late, the Empire had been more than watchful of unnecessary over-spending by its officers and accountants.  The destruction of the Death Star three short years ago had been a terrible blow to their finances - such losses could not be afforded again.  As such, Treeces actions were seen as some, behind closed doors and in the privacy of quarters, to be an indulgence the Empire could little afford. 

But no one was going to tell the Moff of the Setnin Sector that.

   “Commander Lans.”

   “Yes, Your Excellency?” 

Treece wiped the corners of his mouth as he stared at Lans. Commander Lans’ scars were healing well.  The Bacta treatment had worked its usual wonders.

   “Prepare my shuttle.”

   “Which one sir?”  Treece smiled.  He had a shuttle for most occasions.  Pleasure.  Diplomacy.  Destruction.  Which one did this occasion merit?

   “I’ll leave that to your disgression Commander. Have it prepped and waiting for my departure within the hour.” 

Lans frowned at this.  Treece frowned back.

   “A problem Commander?” 

Lans shook his head, annoyed with himself for allowing his facade to slip and be seen by his superior officer.

   “No Your Excellency.  I didn’t realise that you would be travelling down to the planet yourself.”

Treece smiled.

   “Why ever not Commander?  You know the deep interest I have in starports.”

   “Dropping out of hyperspace….now.”  

Goah Galletti pulled the lever back, dropping the Phoenix out of hyperspace….

And once again almost directly into the path of the Repressor.

   “Evasive manoeuvres Mactin!” 

No response.  

   “Mactin, get up here!”  Goah yanked the controls with a deft twist and half spun, half slid his starship around the massive conning towers, past the Star Destroyer.  Curses!  Why did I bring the Phoenix out so near to the planet? I knew Treece was going to be here.

   “What’s the problem Goah - oh crud, a Star Destroyer!”  Mactin leapt into the co-pilots seat and attacked the controls like a Chinngardian possessed.  “We don’t need this.  I told you not to drop us out of hyperspace so near to the planet.” 

Galletti threw his co-pilot a deadly glare and spun his ship again.

   “It seemed like a good idea at the time.  I don’t remember much resistance from you.”

   “I was in the engine room.”

   “Whatever.” 

The comm began to crackle and fizz as an incoming message was received.  Mactin looked at Goah.

   “Gonna answer it?” 

Goah breathed in deeply and frowned.

   “Would it do any good if I did?”

   “Would it do any harm?”

   “We’ve ID’d it as the Shadow of the Phoenix sir.  Wanted in seventeen systems.  It’s pilot goes by the name of Goah Galletti, who himself has twenty-six outstanding warrants for his arrest.”  Commander Ooamlek lowered his clipboard and awaited his Moffs response.  He was eager to begin the operation to bring in such a notorious criminal, but Treece seemed distracted, as if his mind was focussed on other things. Anything but the situation brewing outside the window.  “Your Excellency?  Galletti.  Should we - “

   “I heard you the first time Commander Ooamlek.  No.  Cease hailing him, let him go about his business.” 

Ooamlek almost fell over with surprise.

   “Sir?  With respect sir, this man has more warrants for his arrest than I’ve seen in a year.” 

Treece turned slowly to his sub-ordinate officer, a forced smile on his taut face.

   “Then, with respect Commander, you obviously don’t get out enough.  Leave the Phoenix to land on Soluman, or wherever it’s headed.  Then report to my office and brief me on the mission so far.” 

What mission so far, thought Ooamlek to himself as he saluted smartly and left his bridge.  Already he’d had to suffer the indignity of being superseded on his own bridge by another officer, albeit the Grand Moff.  But to have to relay the message to his men that he was letting a known criminal escape so cheaply….well, it did little for morale.  His men’s or his own.  As Ooamlek departed Lans sidled up to Treece, angled away from the rest of the bridge so he could speak without being lip-read.

   “Are you sure that was a wise decision Your Excellency?”

   “Do I detect disapproval Commander?”

   “Confusion, sir.  Surely Galletti’s capture would have served more purposes.”  Treece frowned.  He detested being contradicted, even by trusted men like Lans.  If the Grand Moffs word wasn’t good enough, whose was?

   “Such as?” 

Lans clamped his hands behind his back.

   “Galletti is one of Cipples favoured operatives.  His most efficient assassin.”

   “Your point?”

   “If he was to be captured, it would be of great annoyance to Cipple.”  He paused momentarily.  “And it would placate the Repressors crewmen.” 

Treece spun around at this, making Lans flinch.  Placate the men?  Since when did `the men’ have a say in anything?

   “What do you mean Commander?  If there is a problem with my decision making, then by all means let the doubter step forward.  We haven’t had a decent flogging on a ship under my command for too many years.”  His last sentence was spoken sharply, harshly and quite audibly to the rest of the bridge.  Several officers glanced around, swiftly returning to their duties when they noticed the glare of the Moff.  Lans swallowed hard and quietly answered.

   “Your Excellency.  I merely meant that we have embarked on a routine mission in a starship fully loaded for planetary bombardment.  Even to the lowest ranking officers, that seems overzealous.  An arrest, even something as modest as an assassin, would raise the spirits of the crew.” 

Treece nodded again and began making his way off the bridge, Lans following closely behind.  Once off the bridge Treece turned to his Commander.

   “Lans, sometimes you make perfect sense and sometimes you make no sense at all.  Today you made perfect sense.”

   “Thank you sir.”  Lans had long ago learned to act sincere with the Moff.  Even though they had trained together, risen through the ranks together and served together, it still weighed on Lans that he would forever be subservient to Treece.  Acting humble to placate the Moff made the burden less.  But all the heavier on his soul.

   “On another day I would have captured the Phoenix.  In a vehicle like this it would have been a simple matter.  A locking on of tractor beams, the disabling of his engines, whatever.  But, as you are aware there is more to this mission than meets the eye.”

   “Yes Your Excellency.”

   “And as such I cannot simply bow to the needs and pressures dictated to me by my crew or even normal working protocol.  Galletti is gone now, presumably to either the Soluman surface or to the Breemarr Trading Station.” 

Lans paused as he punched the button to open the turbo-lift door.

   “Yes sir.  So you believe that one of Cipples agent arriving at Soluman might know the actual location of the Heed?  Or have a map leading to it?” 

Treece raised his eyebrows at this.  Efficient thinking Commander.  I hadn’t thought of that one myself.

   “Obviously Commander.  Why else would I allow such a notorious criminal to escape?  Oh, and one more thing.” 

Commander Korne Lans froze, awaiting some recriminating comment, or some physical attack from his superior officer.

   “Yes, Your Excellency?”

   “Hasn’t it occurred to you that the reason we’re heavily armed enough to carry out a planetary bombardment is because we’re here to do exactly that?”  

Treece grinned evilly as he stepped into the turbo lift and Lans was so disturbed by the statement that he didn’t realise he’d missed the lift until the next one came along.

   “Nothing.  Nothing at all.  It’s as if we vanished from their sensors.”  Mactin ruffled his mane of hair and swivelled around in his seat.  “If I didn’t know better I’d say they let us escape.” 

Goah nodded slowly, his fingers rubbing slowly along his jaw-line, deep in thought. 

   “Of course they let us escape.  I’m never that lucky.”  He leaned forward to check the console.  “I can’t imagine why though.” 

Mactin shrugged and rose from his seat.

   “You figure that out.  I’m going to finish my work in the engine room.  Are you still taking us to the Breemarr station?” 

Galletti shook his head and returned to piloting his freighter.

   “No.  I’m taking us to the island and parking the Phoenix.  The sooner I get off this ship the better.”

Luronsa IV was a golden mile that stretched on and on around the entire planet.  Nowhere else in the galaxy was quite like it, though that was said about many worlds.  And yet how many worlds could boast endless beaches, endless blue skies, endless casinos, endless sunsets….Luronsa IV was the paradise every old, rich, successful and romantic being ever dreamed of.  And it never ended.

Carlonian Feese wasn’t old, rich or romantic.  He was however, very successful.  He wasn’t much of a dreamer but at the moment he was dreaming of being anywhere in the entire universe other than Luronsa IV.  Music he could tolerate.  Colourful festivities he could just about understand, his own species the Mon Calamari being somewhat enamoured with festivities.  Even the smiling, happy people were bearable, to a degree.  But all of them, at the same time, and incessantly for hour after hour, day after day?  It was enough to drive a hired assassin crazy.  And that was exactly what he would be unless Lomona and his women picked him up soon.  It had been three hours since he’d spoken to that A-desandian fool.  Three hours!  It didn’t take more than three hours to land and dock in a starport, not when you’d worked the lanes as long as Lomona.  He had to be doing it on purpose, for what reason Feese couldn’t be sure.  Obviously there was no love lost between the two men, not that there had ever been any in the first place.  Lomona respected Feese for his professional approach to his work and Feese felt the same way about Lomona.  But that was as far as it went.  They had very little to do with each other and that was the way the two of them liked it.  When Melm had told Feese to wait on Luronsa IV he had been more than a trifle annoyed. Luronsa IV was a long trip from Amagad to just wait for more news. But the regard he held for Melm, plus the fact that he was tailing the Sunrise instead of travelling on it made the mission bearable.  But, as ever, things changed.  Instead of making their third stopover on Cantarr Bi Romou, it had been decided that the Sunrise team needed more cover to make it to their final destination.  So now his job was to stay aboard the Sunrise itself.  With the two women, the girl, and worst of all Lomona.  Feese breathed in deeply and sat down on the crumbling wall again, checking left and right for any sign of Lomona.  His own starship, the Deadman’s Dream was safely secured in a hide out arranged by Garr Sintinecc.  He would return for it when the mission was over and blast off Luronsa IV without a backward glance.  Nighttime on Luronsa IV was one thing, but these endless days…?

Dressel’s sleek pleasure yacht the Mighty slid smoothly out of hyperspace and berthed next to the Repressor, angling itself for a quick exit if necessary.  Within its luxurious confines Dressel relaxed, reclining on a plush sofa with Saarla, his nubile Twi’lek female coiled beside him.  Repressor occupied the viewscreen, an ominous sight that filled his crew with equal amounts of awe and dread.  They’d never been this close before.  At least, not without a fight.  Dressel enjoyed the situation while it lasted until it was rude not to acknowledge the vessel before him.  Activating the Holo-projector he began his transmission, and within moments he had a connection.

   “Your Excellency, how gratifying to see you.  I trust I am the first to arrive?”  Treeces Holo-image nodded curtly.

   “You are Dressel.  I hope you’re not the last.  May I ask why you have parked your yacht so close to my Star Destroyer? I’m getting inquiries from my senior staff.”  Dressel smirked out of cam shot.  Trouble with the troops my dear Moff?  How unfortunate.

   “My apologies Your Excellency.  I didn’t realise that my appearance was of such importance.  Should I relocate?” 

Treeces’ heavy lids blinked.  Was that insolence?

   “No Dressel.  Despite my crews inquiries you are my guest and as such a guest of the Repressor.  Contact me at your convenience when you have further news.” 

Dressel executed a deep nod, pushing the head of his Twi’lek down out of shot.

   “As always, the pleasure is entirely mine Your Excellency.”