"Crossroads of the Force" [PG-13] - Chapter Twelve
"CROSSROADS OF THE FORCE"
CHAPTER TWELVE
WORLPORT, ORD MANTELL
"Everyone! Please! May I have your attention, please?" Voranda Sen's voice silenced the chattering ones that buzzed inside the room.
Inside one of the Lady Luck Casino's private rooms, at least two dozen smugglers and freighter pilots had gathered for a meeting arranged by the red-haired Captain Sen. Chewbacca, who stood against one of the walls, observed the motley collection of pilots that sat around the rectangular-shaped table. He recognized at least three pilots - the Gungan, Toba Bari of the Sea Killer; the fair-haired human leader of the Freeholders, Silver Frye; and a Socorran human named Kaine Paulsen. During his years with the Drunken Lady, Chewbacca had encountered all three. And directly in front of him sat his two companions - Han and Set.
"What is this all about, Voranda?" a Duros smuggler demanded.
Captain Sen smiled at her colleague. "It's quite simple, Nootka. I have a proposal for you all. A proposal that will help all of you deal with the Empire. Permanently."
"Deal with the Empire?" A Kwuennox Smuggler cried out suspiciously, "What is this? Do you expect us to become Imperial agents or something?"
The red-haired human rolled her eyes with contempt. "Of course not! Really Ozik! What do you take me for?" She paused dramatically, as she allowed her gaze to sweep over the room. "I am proposing . . . an operation that should help end Imperial rule of the galaxy within several years."
Several voice resumed chattering at the same time. Chewbacca found himself growing excited. Ever since his capture, he had hoped to rejoin the fight against the Empire and bring about Kashyyyk's liberation. Captain Sen's hint seemed to suggest that day might be sooner than he had originally hoped.
"Why don't you cut to the chase, Voranda?" Set commented dryly. "I believe I have a pretty good idea what this is about?" All eyes fell upon the human pilot. "You want to recruit us for some newly organized rebellion against the Empire. Don't you?"
Silence enveloped the room. All eyes fell upon Voranda Sen. Chewbacca noticed that most of the pilots did not seem enthusiastic about the idea of an organized fight against the Empire. Including Han. Set’s blank expression made it difficult for Chewbacca to fathom the older pilot’s reaction.
A sigh left Captain Sen’s mouth. “I’m not . . .” The other voices inside the room grew louder. “Hey!” she cried. “I’m talking!” The voices ceased. With another sigh, she added, “I’m not trying to recruit new members to the Rebel cause! I . . . merely want to recruit your services as pilots. Freighter pilots. A new Rebel Alliance is being formed into an organized resistance against the Empire. We need smugglers and freighter pilots to ship arms, equipment, food and possible refugees to any base or headquarters we might form in the future. And we need pilots on a regular basis. Pilots like Kaine Paulsen,” she nodded at the dark-haired Socarran, “who knows most or all of the shortcuts, byways and hyperspace lanes within the galaxy.” She paused, while her audience remained silent. “Well?”
Chewbacca remained standing against the wall, hoping that his new companions would accept Sen’s call-to-arms. Instead, Han and Set merely stared at the red-haired human. Like their other colleagues. All seemed reluctant or unwilling to volunteer. It took all of Chewbacca’s willpower to keep his disappointment in check.
“In other words, you want us to become part of some Rebel freight system, shipping supplies and arms to your rebels on a regular basis?” Everyone now stared at the golden-haired Silver Frye, who had spoken. Chewbacca and his former Drunken Lady crewmen had once met her Freeholders in the Bastooine System nearly four years ago. “Why should we? Why should we give up our freedom to work for others?”
Frustration glittered in Voranda Sen’s green eyes. “Freedom?” she exclaimed. “What freedom? You have no real freedom. I have no real freedom. None of us have been free since the Emperor came to power.”
From the corner of his eye, Chewbacca saw Set’s face tightened. Curious.
“We will never be free until we bring down the Empire,” Sen continued.
To Chewbacca’s consternation, Han leaned forward with a sneer stamped on his young face. “By we, do you mean all of us? Or just your rebel friends?”
Captain Sen replied in a hard voice, “I mean all of us, Solo. As long as the Empire exists, we are all in the same boat.”
“And what happens once you and your friends . . . uh, finally get rid of the Empire? What happens to us?”
The red-haired human retorted, “How would I know? I’m not a Jedi! I can’t foresee the future. Including my own. But I do know that I’m willing to take a chance for a better one. Are you? Or do you simply plan to spend the rest of your lives dodging Imperial ships for easy profits that you’ll eventually spend?”
The room fell silent. For a moment, Chewbacca sensed a shift in attitude from the smugglers. Even Han’s sneer seemed to have slipped a little. Then Captain Frye rose to her feet. “I’m sorry, Voranda, but I’m just not interested.” Chewbacca’s hope slipped a little. The fair-haired pirate continued, “The only organization I am willing to place my loyalty with are the Freeholders. Perhaps another time.” She gave a quick nod and immediately left the room. At least a dozen more pilots followed her.
A desperate Sen turned to the remaining pilots. “What about the rest of you? Kaine? Toba?”
The Gungan spoke up. “Meesa be glad to join.”
Sen flashed a grateful smile at Toba Bari. Three other pilots - unfamiliar to Chewbacca - volunteered. Kaine Paulsen did not. Captain Sen turned to the Javian Hawk’s crew. “Han? Set?”
The young Corellian immediately answered, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested.” Chewbacca’s hearts sank.
“Set? What about you?”
A sigh left Set’s mouth. “I don’t know, Voranda. I think I’m with Han on this one. I’m not . . . I’m just not that interested in joining your rebellion.”
“I don’t believe this!” Captain Sen cried. “You . . . a veteran of the Clone Wars!”
Set shot back, “I had fought against the Separatists. I fought for the Republic. And Palpatine.”
“And yet you had helped Separatist refugees escape from the Empire, right after the war.”
“For a price.” Set shook his head. “I’m sorry Voranda, but . . . it’s just not for me.”
Disappointment gleamed in Sen’s green eyes. “I’m sorry too. I had hoped that you - of all people - would consider my offer.”
Chewbacca shot a quick glance at the Javian Hawk’s captain. Guilt flashed in the latter’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Voranda. I don’t want to be dragged into some cause I’m not interested in fighting for. And I especially don’t want to be part of some alliance or organization. But . . .” He paused, producing hope in Captain Sen’s demeanor and alarm in Han’s.
“But what?” Sen demanded.
Set heaved a sigh. “I would be willing to act as a temporary carrier for your alliance. Whenever the Hawk is available, Han and I would be more than happy to ship supplies or weapons for you. Right Han?” The young Corellian opened his mouth, but Set added, “You see, even he agrees. Of course, we’re only willing to do this for a small fee.”
Han closed his mouth. Chewbacca realized that Set’s compromise suited him. Somewhat. He would have been a lot happier if his new companions had fully volunteered to join the rebellion. But he might as well be satisfied that Set had offered to help - even on a limited basis. Who knows? Perhaps one day both Set and Han will fully embrace the rebellion. Judging from Captain Sen’s expression, she seemed to feel the same.
“Of course,” the red-haired human said with a wry smile on her lips. Then she said to the remaining pilots, “What about the rest of you? Do you agree to Set’s suggestion?” The pilots also agreed to act as temporary carriers for the rebels - including Paulsen. The meeting finally ended. Everyone filed out of the room.
As the Javian Hawk’s crew made their way across the casino’s main floor, Set asked Chewbacca, “Why didn’t you volunteered to rejoin the rebellion? Be one of Voranda’s pilots?”
Before the Wookie could answer, Han spoke up. “If Chewie had done so, he would have broken his life debt to us.”
“Life debt?” Set exclaimed.
Han explained the tradition of the Wookie life debt to his older partner. “We had saved Chewie from slavery under the Imperials . . . and probably an early death. Because of that he has pledged a life debt oath to us. Look, I realize this might feel uncomfortable to you, but this is . . .”
Han’s voice faded from Chewbacca’s attention, as he became aware of a pair of eyes observing them. He may not be Jedi, but the Wookie possessed a good instinct for knowing that he is being watched. Sure enough, he spotted a female human with blond hair, standing behind a column. A slight growl rose from his throat.
“What is it, Chewie?” Han demanded.
The Wookie replied that he had sensed someone staring at them. “A woman.”
“I thought so,” Set added, after Han’s translation. “I could have sworn I had sensed someone, myself. You said that she was a woman? Where is she?”
Chewbacca pointed at the column. But the woman had disappeared. “She must have realized you had seen her,” Han said. “Just as well. Probably some pickpocket looking for a mark.”
The Wookie and the two humans dismissed the woman from their minds and walked out of the casino.
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MALAG, MALDARE
“Is he awake, yet?” a deep voice demanded.
Mako moaned slightly, as a gloved hand probed his eyelids. “I believe so, my Lord,” another voice replied.
“You believe so?” the deep voice questioned. “Perhaps we should make certain that our guest is fully awake.”
Seconds later, cold water splashed upon Mako’s face. The smuggler sprang into a sitting position with a cry on his lips. “Wha . . .?” Mako glanced around with wide eyes. He noticed that he sat on a single cot situated against a stone wall of a holding cell. “Where am I?” His gaze focused upon two men - a pale-faced man with curly brown hair, who wore the dark uniform of an Imperial inquisitor; and a tall man with intense dark eyes that frightened Mako. The taller man wore a black tunic and trousers and a cloak that billowed from the tunic. Mako realized that he had seen this man at least twice on the HoloNet News . . . and in person.
“Good afternoon, Master Spince,” the tall man greeted ominously. “I wondered when you would awaken.”
Mako gaped at the mention of his name. “How . . . how did you . . .?”
“. . . know your name?” the man continued. “Mako Spince, disgraced son of the prominent Senator Spince of Corellia. Your name was the talk of both the Imperial Fleet and many prominent citizens on Coruscant following your expulsion from the Imperial Academy. Speaking of names, I might as well introduce myself. I am Darth Rasche, the Emperor’s personal liaison.”
Mako’s stomach formed a tight knot. He should have recognized Lord Rasche upon sight. His father had once pointed out the Imperial liaison on Coruscant, just before his departure for the Imperial Space Academy on Carida. “Uh . . . why did . . .” He wiped his moist face with the back of one sleeve. “I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You fired upon Imperial troops.”
“They were firing at me and my passenger! What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and allow myself to be shot?”
Lord Rasche loomed closer to Mako. There was something about him that reminded the smuggler of Set Horus in a dark mood. The dark-clad man handed him a white handkerchief. “Wipe yourself with this, Captain Spince. Meanwhile, I believe you should know that your . . . passenger was the manservant of Senator Zoebeida Dahlma of this system. The senator is wanted for questioning by the Empire. We would like to know why she had lied about her destination.” The Imperial liaison paused, as his dark eyes bored into Mako’s. For a second, the smuggler thought he had detected a yellow flash in those eyes.
“Look, I don’t know anything about Senator Dahlma’s plans . . .” Mako began.
Darth Rasche interrupted. “Oh, but you do. According to an employee of the Lumati Hotel, you were among several pilots seen entering the suite she had been staying at. Why did you visit her suite?”
A sardonic retort hovered on the tip of Mako’s tongue. But another glance into those cold eyes kept his response in check. Instead, he heaved a defeated sigh and answered, “If you must know, Senator Dahlma’s aide wanted to hire a pilot to take her . . . well, she didn’t exactly say where the senator wanted to go.”
The dark eyes remained fixed upon Mako’s face, making the smuggler feel increasingly uncomfortable. “Captain Spince, I will fully admit that I can be a dangerous man to cross. But I do keep my word. If you will cooperate, I guarantee that you will not be incarcerated or punished in any other way. But if you lie to me and refuse to cooperate . . .” Lord Rasche did not finish his sentence. He did not have to. Mako understood the man’s implication. “Where was Senator Dahlma planning to go, Captain?”
Another sigh left Mako’s mouth. ’Sorry Han,’ he said to himself. Then he answered aloud, “Ord Mantell. At least that is what I had overheard Senator Dahlma tell the pilot she had hired. I . . . uh, was checking my ship’s systems, when they left from the same hangar.”
“And who is this pilot?” Lord Rasche demanded.
“I don’t know.” Mako paused. “But I remember the name of the starship. The Javian Hawk.”
Triumph gleamed in Darth Rasche’s eyes. “Thank you, Captain Spince. You have my permission to leave Maldare.” Mako heaved a sigh of relief. “And Captain, I hope for your sake that your colleague never learn about your revelation.” He shot a snide grin at the smuggler and turned away.
As he watched Lord Rasche leave the cell, Mako found himself praying to all of the gods that Han . . . and especially the intimidating Set Horus never learn of his betrayal. Period.
END OF CHAPTER TWELVE