Part 5 (1/2)
”Fully functional, sir.”
”Excellent. We can use those torpedoes... Have your crew prepare them for transs.h.i.+pment. A shuttle will take them off.”
Obota nodded obediently.
”Sir! Yes, sir!”
The Imperial said, ”That will be all,” and the holo snapped to black. Obota touched a b.u.t.ton, checked to ensure that the comm was truly off, and turned to applause.
”A sterling performance,” Kyle said admiringly.
”Couldn't have been better,” Jan said as she emerged from the shadows. ”You missed a career on the stage.”
”Thank you,” Obota said, bowing from the waist. ”But that was little more than the first act.
The second act is about to begin, and the audience is on its way.”
More than an hour pa.s.sed between the time the High Hauler left hypers.p.a.ce and the a.s.sault shuttle entered the transport's launch bay. The crew, who had already been through more than twenty simulated boardings off Milagro, were in their places. They had counterfeit IDs, family bolo stats, ticket stubs, miscellaneous receipts, and all the other junk people keep in their wallets. All were human because nonhumans were a rarity on Imperial military vessels, and, with the exception of Jan Ors, all were male, since very few women had been allowed to serve in the Empire's armed forces.
A s.h.i.+p's complement that was supposed to number twenty-five had been reduced to twelve, a number intended to reflect heavy casualties as well as the fact that it had been a long time since the Empire's navy had enjoyed the luxury of full crews. Yes, Obota thought to himself, details are important. Did we think of everything? The next hour will tell...
Hatches closed and the bay was pressurized as the a.s.sault shuttle settled onto the repulsor-blackened deck. Obota waited for the green light, heard the klaxon sound, and opened the lock. Air hissed as pressures equalized. The Rebel slipped through the opening, spotted the officer in charge, and hurried to greet him.
”Lieutenant! Are we ever glad to see you! Welcome aboard.” The lieutenant, who saw the entire thing as something of a lark, smiled and shook hands.
”Looks like you've been through a lot... sorry about the formalities.”
Jan watched the interchange from the Crow's darkened c.o.c.kpit and fiddled with a jury-rigged comm set. Obota and the lieutenant were getting along just fine... but how 'bout the rest of the boarding party? Their faces were hidden behind armor and visors. The only way to know what they were saying was to monitor their conversations... and that's where the commset came in.
The inspection was cursory at best - and lasted about forty-five minutes. After a quick tour of the bridge, a stroll through the engineering s.p.a.ces, and a glimpse at the recently patched holes, the boarding party had returned to where they started. The Imperial was a talkative sort - eager to trade gossip and brag about his trips to Ruusan's surface. And Obota, who knew that such information could come in handy, listened carefully.
The two were thick as thieves by the time they pa.s.sed out through the lock. The bay was pressurized, so Obota accompanied the lieutenant all the way to the a.s.sault shuttle and torpedoes. The Group has half the ordnance it's ent.i.tled to, which would hurt during a full-scale battle. ”Blast! I should take a look - but it's such a nuisance.”
Kyle, alerted by Jan and still disguised as a warrant officer, burst onto the deck.
”The lighter is alongside, sir! They're ready to land.”
The bay was too small to accommodate three vessels all at once, so something had to give.
Obota half expected the lieutenant to proceed with his inspection anyway and was relieved when he didn't.
”Thanks, captain. I've seen enough. Hope we meet again sometime - and here's wis.h.i.+ng you a safe trip home.”
Obota couldn't help but like the other man. He shook the lieutenant's hand and entered the lock. Kyle did likewise. Jan watched the proceedings, gave a sigh of relief, and wished it was over. But no sooner had the air been pumped out of the bay, and the shuttle allowed to depart, than a box-shaped lighter took its place. The lighter carried two humans and twelve load lifters. The droids didn't require any oxygen, and it was a straight shot to the holds, so Obota left the bay open to s.p.a.ce. This had the meritorious effect of speeding the process along while simultaneously isolating the pilots. The lighter made three trips before the last torpedo had been removed from the transport's holds and it was cleared for departure.
The moment the Imperial vessel was gone, Obota signaled his intention to carry out what repairs he could and dispatched the Crow on a series of errands. There were parts to pick up, rations to secure, and a ”training” mission that allowed the agents to pa.s.s over Ruusari s northern hemisphere. Such activities entailed some risk, but they provided the Rebels with an excellent opportunity to familiarize themselves with the Imperial operation and established the Crow within the overall pattern of the Battle Group's comings and goings.
The landing, and all that followed, came sixteen hours later. Having received the necessary clearances, the High Hauler separated from the Imperial Battle Group and prepared for hypers.p.a.ce. No one paid much attention to the evolution since it qualified as both routine and boring. And while the fleet operations officer did make note of the fact that the transport pa.s.sed through a Cla.s.s I security zone on its way through the upper reaches of Ruusan's atmosphere, he wrote it off to the commanding officer's lack of experience.
Some things are best ignored... or so it seemed to him. Nonetheless, it was during that brief moment when the freighter swept past the planet that the Moldy Crow left the security of the larger s.h.i.+p's launch bay and plummeted through the stratosphere.
Jan had the controls. She scanned the instrument panel, waited till they were well inside the atmosphere, and fired the drives.
”So far, so good.” Kyle nodded.
”Yeah, but it won't take them long to make us. We need a place to hide.”
”True,” the other agent agreed, ”but let's check the settlement first... the one the lieutenant spoke of.”
”Fort Nowhere?”
”Exactly. We could use a guide, someone who knows the surface, and that's the logical place to look.”
”Good idea,” Kyle agreed, ”but quickly, before they sic a wing of TIE fighters on us.”
Jan nodded and pushed the s.h.i.+p down through a thin layer of clouds. Wee Gee, the utility droid Kyle's father had designed and the two of them had built, peered over their shoulders.
The machine could a.s.sume a nearly endless variety of configurations but most often resembled an inverted U. His right arm was the most powerful. It incorporated four articulated joints and a C-shaped grasper. The left was less ma.s.sive but mounted a human-style tool hand. A repulsorlift engine enabled Wee Gee to hover just off the deck. The droid made a series of beeping sounds. Kyle nodded his head.
”That's right, boy - Ruusan looks a lot different from Sulon.”
Wee Gee made a chirruping sound and clamped himself to a bulkhead. Concerned that they might be detected, Kyle scanned the full spectrum of comm channels. There was some routine chatter, bursts of static as computers exchanged high-speed data packets, and something else, something so weak, so intermittent he wasn't sure it was intentional. Except that it felt intentional, and if the Jedi had learned anything over the last few months, it was to trust his feelings.
The s.h.i.+p shuddered as Jan leveled out over an undulating desert and followed the terrain as it rose and fell. If they stayed low enough, if they were lucky, the agents would escape detection by ground-based sensors.
”Listen to this,” Kyle said, turning up the volume. ”Does it mean anything to you?”
Jan listened to what sounded like a series of clicks. Some came in rapid succession, while others had short periods of silence between them.
”No, but it's repet.i.tive, which would seem to rule out natural phenomena of some sort.”
”That's what I thought,” Kyle agreed. ”Let's try something... ” He touched some keys, ran the signal through the s.h.i.+p's computer, and waited for a response. A screen came to life, and words appeared and scrolled from top to bottom. ”The signal in question exhibits a ninety-nine-percent match with a primitive code involving two alternating symbols.
Specific combinations of these symbols stand in for letters - just as binary notation provides a symbolic representation of words and numbers.”
Kyle felt a sense of excitement, demanded a translation, and watched the text appear.
”Land fifty-six kilometers due south of Fort Nowhere.”
The agent checked to see if there was more, found there wasn't, and pointed to the screen.
”Look! There they are!”
”There who are?” Jan asked cynically. ”The colonists? Or a company of stormtroopers?”
Kyle shrugged. 'Anything's possible... but it feels right.”
Jan brought the Crow up, cleared a mountain of sand, and watched Kyle from the corner of her eye. She hadn't planned to fall in love with him, or anyone else for that matter, but it had happened and she was stuck with it. Stuck with him and his talent. It was as if he had a whole set of additional senses - senses she didn't have. Jan felt a hand cover hers, turned to meet Kyle's gaze, and saw him smile.
”Are you all right?”