the remains of a small, larva-like creature. Its leathery shell had been crushed and would have been barely recognizable had not Nom Anor seen such things many times before. It was a villip.
The female had obviously intended to bring it into the meeting so that the person on the other end could watch the Prophet in action. That in itself was not necessarily sinister; some of the acolytes had attempted to spread the Message via villips before—or so they had claimed. Nom Anor knew, however, that he couldn’t afford to take the chance.
“Does Shoon-mi know?” he asked, keeping his stare fixed on the female.
“No. I make sure to check all acolytes before they reach him. This one came alone and was out of the way before he had a chance to suspect anything.”
Nom Anor nodded his approval. It made things much simpler.
“I want the name of the person holding her master villip,” he said coldly. “Find out how much she knows about us while you’re at it—get the information any way you have to. Then kill her.”
Kunra didn’t argue. “I understand.”
The female started to struggle, her protests muffled by the gag in her mouth. Nom Anor ignored her. “I shall explain to Shoon-mi that we have to relocate again.”
“He won’t like it.”
He faced Kunra. “I’m sure he’d prefer it to dying.”
Without a further glance at the prisoner, he turned and walked away.
PART TWO
DESTINATION
The freighter came out of nowhere from hyperspace far too close to Bakura and going into an instant spin. Its drive units stuttered at random, which wasn’t helping the freighter’s situation, while its subspace was transmitting nothing but static—which to Jag Fel sounded a lot like the buzzing of angry insects.
He had spent a lot of time and effort memorizing the manufacturers and model names of both Republic and Imperial vessels, but he was having difficulty identifying this one. Its distinctive asymmetric design suggested something from the Corellian Engineering Corporation—possibly somewhere between the YT 1300 and the YT 2400—although he couldn’t be 100 percent certain. Either way, it was in poor shape, and that wasn’t likely to improve in a hurry.
He would have happily ignored it had it not been for the fact that whoever was flying it was coming dangerously close to where
Pride of Selonia
was stationed.
“Flights B and C, stand by.” Jag switched to a commercial channel. “Unidentified freighter, you are infringing upon our space. Change course immediately or we will be forced to take action.”
More static was his only reply.
He swung his clawcraft away from
Selonia
in order to meet the incoming vessel. His wingmate followed, S-foils opening smoothly on her X-wing.
“Bakura Orbital Control,” he commed on local channels, “has anybody given this freighter approval to occupy our orbit?”
“Negative, Twin One,” came the instant reply. “This flight is unauthorized. But we’ve certainly seen her before.”
“You have a registration listed?”
“Oh yeah. She goes by the name of
Jaunty Cavalier
and is owned by a Wookiee called Rufarr. In fact, I’m surprised to see him return here. He left owing me some credits.”
Not your usual Wookiee, then
, Jag thought as he watched the freighter tumble toward him.
And not your usual approach, either
.
“I think he’s got more to worry about at the moment,” Jag sent. “Requesting permission to nudge her out of harm’s way.”
“As long as you promise not to be too gentle,” Orbital Control quipped.
“Do what you have to, Twin One,” added Captain Mayn from
Selonia
. “Just make sure she gives us a wide berth.”
“Jaunty Cavalier,”
he tried again. “You have ten seconds to comply with my instructions or you
will
be intercepted. Please respond.”
Still nothing but crackling over the comm.
“Okay, we’re going in.” He applied power to his thrusters and brought his clawcraft alongside the tumbling freighter. “Flight B,
The female had obviously intended to bring it into the meeting so that the person on the other end could watch the Prophet in action. That in itself was not necessarily sinister; some of the acolytes had attempted to spread the Message via villips before—or so they had claimed. Nom Anor knew, however, that he couldn’t afford to take the chance.
“Does Shoon-mi know?” he asked, keeping his stare fixed on the female.
“No. I make sure to check all acolytes before they reach him. This one came alone and was out of the way before he had a chance to suspect anything.”
Nom Anor nodded his approval. It made things much simpler.
“I want the name of the person holding her master villip,” he said coldly. “Find out how much she knows about us while you’re at it—get the information any way you have to. Then kill her.”
Kunra didn’t argue. “I understand.”
The female started to struggle, her protests muffled by the gag in her mouth. Nom Anor ignored her. “I shall explain to Shoon-mi that we have to relocate again.”
“He won’t like it.”
He faced Kunra. “I’m sure he’d prefer it to dying.”
Without a further glance at the prisoner, he turned and walked away.
PART TWO
DESTINATION
The freighter came out of nowhere from hyperspace far too close to Bakura and going into an instant spin. Its drive units stuttered at random, which wasn’t helping the freighter’s situation, while its subspace was transmitting nothing but static—which to Jag Fel sounded a lot like the buzzing of angry insects.
He had spent a lot of time and effort memorizing the manufacturers and model names of both Republic and Imperial vessels, but he was having difficulty identifying this one. Its distinctive asymmetric design suggested something from the Corellian Engineering Corporation—possibly somewhere between the YT 1300 and the YT 2400—although he couldn’t be 100 percent certain. Either way, it was in poor shape, and that wasn’t likely to improve in a hurry.
He would have happily ignored it had it not been for the fact that whoever was flying it was coming dangerously close to where
Pride of Selonia
was stationed.
“Flights B and C, stand by.” Jag switched to a commercial channel. “Unidentified freighter, you are infringing upon our space. Change course immediately or we will be forced to take action.”
More static was his only reply.
He swung his clawcraft away from
Selonia
in order to meet the incoming vessel. His wingmate followed, S-foils opening smoothly on her X-wing.
“Bakura Orbital Control,” he commed on local channels, “has anybody given this freighter approval to occupy our orbit?”
“Negative, Twin One,” came the instant reply. “This flight is unauthorized. But we’ve certainly seen her before.”
“You have a registration listed?”
“Oh yeah. She goes by the name of
Jaunty Cavalier
and is owned by a Wookiee called Rufarr. In fact, I’m surprised to see him return here. He left owing me some credits.”
Not your usual Wookiee, then
, Jag thought as he watched the freighter tumble toward him.
And not your usual approach, either
.
“I think he’s got more to worry about at the moment,” Jag sent. “Requesting permission to nudge her out of harm’s way.”
“As long as you promise not to be too gentle,” Orbital Control quipped.
“Do what you have to, Twin One,” added Captain Mayn from
Selonia
. “Just make sure she gives us a wide berth.”
“Jaunty Cavalier,”
he tried again. “You have ten seconds to comply with my instructions or you
will
be intercepted. Please respond.”
Still nothing but crackling over the comm.
“Okay, we’re going in.” He applied power to his thrusters and brought his clawcraft alongside the tumbling freighter. “Flight B,
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