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StarWars FanFiction
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POV: The Price (III)
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By Avery "Foxfire" Schroeder,
Daniel "Drake" Sutherland,
and Dario "Ibero" Pozo
Pictures by Dario "Ibero" Pozo
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Chapter
Three: The Search
[Thirty hours later: Deep
in Imperial territory]
Two White Squadron A-wings dropped out of hyperspace, coasting past a
fringe of barren planets and toward the nav buoy they'd come to find.
This star system was too isolated even to have a name, but a fair amount
of traffic passed through en route to other destinations. And if any of
that traffic caught traces of the Joan d'Arc's passage, their mission
would suddenly get a lot more complicated. If all went according to plan,
destroying the buoy would keep ships out of the area long enough for the
Joan's trail to fade.
Of course, Iceman
thought, he couldn't remember the last time anything had gone according
to plan.
"Two, Eight.
Looks clear to me," Ladyfox said over the comm-link, the static background
intensifying the faint hiss of her Selonian accent. "All right to
proceed?"
"Yeah, just keep
an eye out," Iceman agreed, surveying the scene before him - planets
to one side, a cloud of asteroids to the other, and a space just clear
enough for navigation in between. Since Ibero's flight had run into an
Imperial patrol less than two days ago, their course had been complete
chaos, and the Joan d'Arc's navigation officer was threatening
to resign over the constant changes of course. Foxfire had
had the squadron flying forward patrols every second they were in realspace,
and the pace was beginning to tell on all the pilots. They had flown
through every meteorite cluster from the Imperial Frontier to this place,
trying to find any trace of Admiral Garil's ships without being discovered
themselves. Considering they were heading more or less directly toward
the heart of the Empire, their objective of finding Garil without being
found by the Imperials was so close to the definition of "impossible"
that Iceman thought it should be included in the Basic dictionary as an
example.
"Let's spread
out and get this done with," Iceman said. "I want to get home
before Granite gets off shift and into the Bomb Shelter."
"Do you think
that Foxfire forgot to lock up the Caldanian whiskey again?" Ladyfox
teased. Her A-wing trailed away in a wide arc that would let her sweep
the area for Imperial ships while Iceman concentrated on their objective.
It should be a simple mission, but there were dozens of things that could
go wrong, this deep in Imperial territory. The mission's not over until
your feet hit the deck, he reminded himself.
A far-off flicker
of pseudomotion caught his attention, and his eyes widened. For anything
to be visible at that distance, it had to be big and moving *fast*.
Iceman flipped his
comm-link on. "Ladyfox, get to cover, shut down everything you can,
and DON'T MOVE." He heard a terse double-click of the mike in acknowledgment,
and saw the Selonian's A-wing accelerate away. Iceman dove for the dubious
safety of the asteroids, keeping a wary eye on the growing shapes behind
him. If they got within sensor range before they got to cover... He cut
speed sharply as he reached the fringes of the asteroid field, sliding
around a large, slow rock that loomed in her path. Just a trickle of engine
power to keep him in the asteroid's sensor shadow, no communications,
no weapons, minimal life support...Iceman's hand flicked over the console,
shutting down everything he dared.
As the last light
on his console winked out, the Imperial convoy thundered into range of
his passive sensors. Several Corvettes and Escort Carriers, a scattering
of Gunboats and T/As, a flight of Interceptors falling into escort formation
as he watched...and two Frigates, no less, the Avenger and the
Ultimatum. At this rate, he was half expecting the FRG Overkill,
Iceman thought with a grin. Then he took another look at the composition
of the convoy, and the grin changed to something slightly more feral.
Big, fast, and armed for bantha, but that loose formation and haphazard
entry suggested something thrown together at a moment's notice. About
the reaction you'd get with an enemy Frigate marauding through your back
yard, in fact.
"Bet they're
after the same guy we are," he said softly to himself. If that convoy
was a response to another of Garil's attacks, they knew where he'd been
much more recently than White. But a little ingenuity could fix that.
Shivering a little
in the cooling air, he settled in to wait on the convoy, hoping Ladyfox
was well out of harm's way. Being separated from a wing-mate grated on
his nerves, but for now both their safety depended on radio silence. He
watched as the squadron of Interceptors spread out, inspected the area,
and hurried back into sloppy formation, glad that the better-trained units
were kept out near the Rim. The Knights or even Omega would've found us
by now, he thought, and then I'd have one seriously charred A-wing...
After too many long
minutes, the convoy began to accelerate for hyperspace. I thought they
would never leave... Iceman carefully eased his fighter away from the
shelter of the asteroid. The first thing he activated again was the heating
system. Half an hour more and I would be more Iceman than ever before.
I promise never to laugh again when Moose starts talking about orbiting
Yavin in a disabled B-Wing for five hours. "Eight, Four. Vanessa,
you still out there?"
"I'm here and
I'm cold and I'm bored," the Selonian growled back. "What was
that all about?"
"Imps after somebody's
blood, probably the same guy we're trying to pull out of the fire."
"So we have to
fight them off before we can get to the Admiral?" Ladyfox was unimpressed.
"No, hopefully
we'll beat them to the Admiral." Iceman smiled. He wondered what
was needed to scare the Selonian.
"What about the
nav buoy?" Ladyfox asked. "We should destroy it as we've been
ordered before to return."
"The nav buoy?
Ah, yes..." Something had crossed through his mind when Ladyfox mentioned
the nav buoy. Of course. "Wait a minute, Vanessa. I think
we're gonna have to stay here a while longer - there's been a slight change
of plans."
"Wonderful. Now
I see there is no difference between flying with you or with Foxfire.
There is aaaaaalways a slight change of plans..."
Iceman sat up straighter
and pulled out of his holding pattern, reflexively arming his lasers at
about the same time he noticed the colour of the new dot on his screens.
He'd noticed Ladyfox doing the same thing - it might be quiet out here,
but at this point that only served to make both pilots more nervous.
"White Four,
this is Anubis, now what did you go dragging us out of bed for?"
Iceman grinned, recognizing
the teasing note in the shuttle pilot's voice. "A nav buoy, Barris,
we're stealing it."
The silence over the
comm-link was educational in its own way, and Iceman choked back a laugh.
It wasn't his fault that he had to keep long-distance transmissions (and
explanations) down to a minimum, really it wasn't. "You want us to
pick up a nav buoy," Barris said finally.
"Right."
"In a shuttle."
"Right."
"A nav buoy?"
"Right."
"Whatever you
say," Barris said, on the end of a long-suffering sigh. "But
this isn't in my job description - I want at least a keg of Blue Stuff
for this."
"Wait till we
get home, it's cheaper out on the Rim."
No stranger to dangerous
situations, Barris had been heading steadily for the nav buoy ever since
learning what his objective was; Ladyfox had been flying close escort
while Iceman kept an eye out for trouble. Not that there was much they
could do if it came - the Anubis was far too bulky for the duck- and-cover
trick that the two pilots had used earlier.
Foxfire is going
to love this. He thought with a smile.
[Thirty-five minutes
later, on board the New Republic Frigate Joan d'Arc]
"Good thinking, Iceman" Foxfire said. "I do love this."
"Thanks, Avery."
Iceman replied. "I imagined that you would say that."
"Really?"
Foxfire winked at him. " Good imagine - now try to imagine
what our Captain is going to say."
"I love it,"
was what Captain Orris had said for Foxfire's surprise and amazement.
I never thought he might say something like that, it's completely out
of his style! Foxfire walked cautiously through the main Engineering
doors, wincing at the loud crash and louder curse from inside. "You
know what it is," someone was proclaiming, "they're just trying
to drive us crazy so we won't notice when the coffee runs out."
She suppressed a snicker
and stepped carefully inside, picking her way through the maze of tools
and spare parts that littered the floor. "Kostolitz, I swear you'd
go looking for a coffeemaker in the Imperial Palace itself.
The chief tech on
duty, a tall, lanky man with a slightly unfocused look, shrugged and smiled
at her over his shoulder. "The way we're going, we may get a chance.
I can't imagine you're after that buoy's logs just to find out where the
best shopping is."
"Not till my
next leave," Foxfire shot back, maneuvering Kostolitz a little away
from the rest of the engineering crewmen. The senior tech would know what
and how much to tell the rest, but Foxfire didn't really want to discuss
the mission plan with a roomful of techs. "I'm not even sure this
will work, but out on recon two of my pilots ran into - well, more like
got run over by - an Imperial convoy that was after the same guy we are.
If we can pull the logs out of that buoy intact, we should be able to
find out what their destination was - and wherever that is, it's a lot
closer to Garil than we are."
"Well, you don't
have to worry too much about your logs," Kostolitz said, gesturing
over to the hulk of the Imperial nav buoy, where a handful of droids were
clustered around the sparking remains of the computer core. "I should
have them out shortly - we had to let a couple of R5s at it after we knocked
out the first set of defenses. They're not too fast, but they do good
work."
"I'm sure they
do." Foxfire stared enviously at the droids, wishing she could steal
a few of them and put them to work looking for Garil's renegade Frigate.
An A-wing's sensors were the best that could be mounted on that small
a craft, but even their range was limited, and the number of pilots was
even more so. Add to that the fatigue of recon pilots flying heel-to-toe
shifts, and things got even worse.But there might be ways to get around
that...
She glanced at the
astromechs again, and reached for her comm-link as a thought struck her.
"Flight Officer Sutherland, this is Foxfire. I need to meet with
you in fifteen minutes in the usual briefing room - and bring Ledner with
you."
The corridor was dark,
as it always was. Foxfire glanced over her shoulders and squeezed quickly
through a crack between two cargo crates - which happened to be empty
and riveted to the floor. Not much good for storage, but just the thing
if you wanted to hide something. Like a bar.
Drake was already
waiting for her in the Bomb Shelter, and had been there for some time,
judging from the low level of liquid in his glass. His R2 droid Ledner
was trundling around behind him, poking into corners with a near-continuous
stream of inquisitive noises.
"Sorry I'm late,
Daniel," she apologized, sitting down across from the other pilot.
"I'd get you a drink, but it looks like you've already helped yourself."
Drake grinned unrepentantly.
"After getting Ledner in here, I deserve it. That entrance in the
crates is barely wide enough for an astromech, and the other one's even
worse."
"Blame Captain
Orris...if he didn't ban it, we wouldn't have to hide it. That man has
no sense of humor."
"Yeah, now we
have to get somebody to tell Hardrive that." Drake nodded toward
the gun-camera shots that were still adorning the walls, then winced as
Ledner bumped into Joker's mop and brought it down with a crash. "I
should never have left that Security programming in there...he thinks
it's his job to investigate everything aboard ship."
"Actually, that's
what I needed to talk to you about...would you mind letting the bridge
crew borrow your droid for a bit?"
"Let them what?"
he asked, just before an indignant chirp from Ledner.
Foxfire shook her
head. "Well - you've mentioned that he had some programs left over
from your Security days, and I got the impression that some of that involved
tracking routines. If we can rig an A-wing up for constant transmission
to the bridge and run the information through Ledner's security programming,
we might be able to get a bit closer to our runaway admiral."
"All we've got
to go on right now is a radiation trail, and that's cold as carbonite
right now."
"We should have
more soon - we've gotten a decent lead on his position, now we just have
to dodge the Imps who are also looking for him." She looked thoughtfully
at the droid, who'd backed nervously away from the table and was currently
wheeling toward the battered jukebox in the back corner of the bar. Then
her eyes widened. "Drake, don't let him near that, I think Granite's
been playing-"
There was a loud pop
and a shower of sparks as Ledner whistled shrilly and wheeled backward
at top speed, hastily retracting a manipulator arm. The jukebox cabinet
dangled open behind him.
"-Braveheart,"
Foxfire finished with a sigh. "Anyway, I'd say this is the best shot
we've got at staying on Garil's trail - recon flights alone can't get
the job done. Think it'll work?"
"It's worth a
try." Drake glanced at the droid, who was advancing on the jukebox
again with a determined stance. "What do you say, Ledner?"
There was a slightly
abstracted reply of beeps, hoots and whistles, and Drake checked the translator
installed in his datapad. "I think that was a yes. But he wants to
be allowed to play with the jukebox some more."
[On board the renegade
New Republic Frigate Trailblazer]
Flight Officer Daken Teel was lying comfortably on his bunk reading as
the chime sounded and unseen fists hammered on the door from the other
side. The young man muttered under his breath as he went and opened the
door, to be confronted by the hard, unsmiling face of Commander Ilyich
Louyan.
"Move it, kid,"
the latter said in his usual dry bark. "Our turn for recon patrol."
Teel nodded once and began to struggle into his flight suit.
As they headed towards
the hangar, Daken Teel couldn't help but notice the four pips on Louyan's
flight suit. He remembered, once, when he'd seen Commander Louyan in full
dress uniform, how impressed he'd been. Never before had he seen so many
medals and awards. The other rarely wore his full uniform, though - the
last time he'd worn it was when Admiral Garil had been promoted. Apparently,
the Commander and the Admiral had served together from a time when the
Admiral was a naval Commander and the Commander was just a Lieutenant.
Now, the former was the captain of this ship, and his long time friend
was the commanding officer of Amber Squadron, the X-Wing squadron on board.
Louyan was fiercely loyal to the Admiral, Teel reflected, and an old officer
from the "School of Hard Knocks", but he was fair, and on occasion
even likable. He smiled slightly at Teel.
"Don't worry,
kid, no matter how many pips you earn, you'll always get to fly recon
patrols," he said with a dry, throaty chuckle. Daken Teel smiled.
"I'm sure, sir.
The difference is, when I've got four pips, I'll get paid that little
bit extra to do it." At this Louyan let out a loud guffaw.
"Not that much
more," he laughed. "Trust me, kid."
A few minutes later
two X-wings of Amber Squadron exited the hangar of the Trailblazer
and gracefully curved around as they streaked into the distance.
[On board the New
Republic Frigate Joan d'Arc]
The usual, ordered quiet of the bridge on board the Alliance frigate
Joan d'Arc was shattered by a piercing electronic squeal. Lieutenant
Stephen "Psycho" Proud, yelped and jumped back as the squat
R2 unit in front of him fired a small charge into a rather sensitive area.
Psycho scowled and Ibero bit his lip in an unsuccessful attempt to keep
from laughing. At this, another man, younger than the other two, rushed
up and gently cuffed the R2 unit's domed head as he might do to a disobedient
child.
"Ledner, what
do you think you're doing? You can trust Psycho - he knows what he's doing,"
the young man said reproachfully. The droid whistled doubtfully, and Psycho
glared at it and rubbed his thigh gently. The young man shot Psycho an
apologetic look.
"Look, you complained
about not getting to fly - this is the next best thing," he said
to the R2 unit, Ledner, in a low voice. "You're still part of the
action." Ledner beeped an unenthusiastic response.
"Oh, stop being
so obstinate and self-important," Drake growled. "You're not
indispensable, so don't pretend you are. The onboard computer on my A-wing
does just as good a job as you, anyway." At this the droid hooted
and whistled shrilly and Drake shot Psycho and Ibero a triumphant, devious
look.
"You don't want
to do it, fine. At least move out of the way so that Ibero and Psycho
can get at the Joan's computer so that it can do the job,"
Drake said scornfully. That did it. Ledner emitted what sounded like a
reluctant low whistle, and Drake winked at his squad mates.
"Go for it,"
he said. "But be careful." The two pilots moved forward and
Psycho turned to the younger man.
"I'll be careful
all right," he growled. "And if that droid of yours ever does
that again, it'll take a team of techs a week to restore him to working
order again." Drake sighed and rolled his eyes.
"He won't,"
he assured Psycho. "Okay, I'm off to the hangar to set up my A-wing
for the linkup." With that, he turned and left the bridge, leaving
Ibero and Psycho to work on the interface between Ledner and the main
computer of the Joan d'Arc.
"If you don't
stop laughing you're going to finish the job alone!" Drake heard
Psycho shouting before the door closed.
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