Black and White
A Star Wars fan novella
JediMasterAthena
Coruscant
3 years after the Battle of Yavin
Captain Tara Nyine, imperial privateer, knew better than to flash her insignia while swimming in the acidic gut of Coruscant's undercity. Legally, no one could oppose her; but that was merely law. The first casualty of war was the boundary between right and wrong. So, she wore a grimace instead and pulled her hood tighter over her head. Besides, she wanted this to be taken care of as efficiently and silently as possible.
Tara had just gotten word from one of her moles that major goings on were stirring up excitement within the rebel factions that were still able to find sanctuary so close to the core. Apparently, an exchange of some sort was to take place between the rebels here on Coruscant and those based on Corellia. A "rebel treasure" had been the exact phrase used by the plant.
As always, Tara's pirating past had proven tremendously useful in her current line of work. If this operation was successful, there was little doubt in her mind that the Moff would be pleased.
Smiling slightly, she pulled her comm from her belt and hailed her ship, The Paratta.
"Spinner, do you copy?"
A myriad of beeps and whistles was her reply.
"Spinner, I need to you to log into database security. I need the names and codes of all vessels that have left within the past six hours with a history of insurgency or affiliation with the Rebel Alliance."
Her astromech responded with an affirmative bleep and communication closed. Planning her next move, Tara strode towards the hangar.
The Rebel alliance had a treasure now. How interesting. Not long ago, the alliance suffered a disastrous defeat on Hoth. No doubt they were scrambling throughout the galaxy, focusing all of their energies on trying to save their hides. How had they managed anything like this?
Suddenly, the holoads that specked the street and lit the vaporous smog with their haze all switched to a routine security bulletin. This was a frequent occurrence under imperial regime and Tara kept walking. After all, with her level of clearance it was unlikely that any of this would be anything more than old news.
Then the name Calrissian reached her ears and she stopped dead in her tracks.
Back, before her so-called employment by the Moff, Tara had worked closely with the smuggler and made a good many deals and an even better profit with the cocky entrepreneur. She eyed the dark-skinned, well-groomed face from under her hood. Lando Calrissian was wanted for fraud and treason. Secretly, Tara's heart went out to the charming rogue. She held a clenched fist to her chest. There simply weren't enough scoundrels in the galaxy anymore.
The face of Lando Calrissian was soon replaced by that of Leia Organa. Tara knew from the frequency of these messages that Mon Mothma would come next followed by Admiral Ackbar. She kept on walking, confident but silent.
By the time she reached her ship, a compact corvette, the boarding ramp was already lowered and the sub-light engines were primed. Her astromech rolled dutifully at her heels.
"Good work, Spinner."
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As soon as The Paratta was in hyperspace, Tara retired to her quarters to change and think. Her mind went back to the rebel treasure. Tara hoped that this treasure was some sort of artillery. Maybe the Moff would be pleased and up her fuel quotas. She hated waiting around in depots until the credits were finally wired to her. And, especially now, if Calrissian truly had joined the Alliance, they had certainly gained a wealthy benefactor to pay for it all. After all, there was no in-between when it came to Imperial loyalty. She laughed silently to herself at this irony as she pulled on her black jumpsuit. She turned to the mirror to braid her hair and the laugh faded as she caught the stark white of the cogwheel insignia on her lapel. She turned away, clipping her cloak so that it draped over the circle.
"Alright, Spinner, what've you got?" Tara joined her crew in the cockpit. She adored her multifarious crew of astromechs. Never would she let an Imperial have any measure of control on her ship. The Paratta was free, even if Tara wasn't.
The droid warbled and her data pad lit up. Tara scanned the lists. After sorting out passenger vessels, large ships, and fighters, she found one good match. It was a Rodian light freighter she'd dealt with before.
Sure enough, The Paratta dropped out of hyperspace moments after The Bonegnawer. Tara swiveled her chair around to face the forward viewport. Keel-ee calleya ku kah (You disappoint me), she muttered under her breath.
"Spinner, lock into the ship's weapons array. We may need the turrets. Buzz, increase shields and get ready to rock." Tara pushed The Paratta forward as she drew closer to The Bonegnawer. "Ginger," Tara called to the red-domed R2 waiting by the nav computer, "Open communication."
"Paratta to Bonegnawer: Koona t'chuta (What are you doing here?)"
"Coona tee-tocky malia (What took you so long?), Tara?" a laughing Rodian voice greeted her in Huttese, "I can't believe you let me leave Coruscant.
"I stopped for a drink. Now, Sleeno, are you going to take her down or will I have to shoot her down?"
"Cha skrunee do pat (don't count on it)," the pilot answered before the shipped dipped straight downward and portside. Tara took pursuit.
"Lock and load Spinner!" the droid's reply echoed over the intercom and the sheet of black space between the Corvette and the freighter filled with fire. Tara brought her ship in line with the Rodian craft. The droid's accuracy could not be beat by living flesh and soon brought down The Bonegnawer's shields.
"Bona nai kachu (It's too late), surrender and prepare for boarding."
"Next time, Tara, I'll scratch that black paint of yours," the comm channel closed and The Bonegnawer dropped away into Coronet.
After landing, both pilots descended their ramps and shook hands in the middle. Now, Tara openly displayed her Imperial crest.
"Chupa (Hey), Sleeno, I've seen better ships floating in junk space." She poked fun at the Rodian's ship. Tara watched her reflection waver in Sleeno's obsidian eyes as he took in her outfit.
"Kava doompa D'emperlolo stoopa. ( You're a low-down Imperial fool.) It's a shame."
"I'm not an Imp." She snarled, "And the last fool who called me that got his antennae shoved down his throat."
"Then what's with the suit?
"Formalities." She pulled out her blaster and aimed it to his head. "Now, smuggler, getting down to business…kee hasa do punyoo kapa tonka (drop the weapon and put your hands up)!" Sleeno dropped his own blaster and raised his hands. "Word has it you're carrying something big for the rebels."
"Tara, you know I don't ship and tell." He smiled wickedly.
"Fine," She spun the Duro about and nudged him forward with the muzzle of her gun. "Let's go find out then."
Tara was disappointed by what she found on Sleeno's ship. Even after searching his homemade smuggling compartments she hadn't found much. There were mostly supplies: spare circuitry, first aid, and some tools. Sleeno wasn't even carrying bacta. Tara did find crates of astromech parts though, so she took them. She left everything else, including three-dozen ration tins. She always left the food. Sleeno was half right. Tara was Imperial scum, but she wasn't low-down.
Krife, Tara thought to herself, maybe this had been the wrong ship. Either way, she had found nothing and it was too late to try again. She'd missed her chance. She immediately cursed her naiveté and stormed up the ramp into the Paratta.
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"What's happened?" Maris Aedann asked the Rodian pilot as he entered the cockpit.
"We've been hit."
"Is everything alright?" Sitting in the co-pilot's chair, he scanned the controls.
"Met up with an old friend," The pilot made a sort of hiccupping noise that seemed to be an equivalent of chuckling through gritted teeth.
Another shock hit the cabin.
"Imperial?" asked Maris, fearing the worst.
"Unfortunately, yes."
The ship took another hit and Maris looked down at the array. "Shields are down." He told Sleeno.
The comm channel opened and a female voice echoed through the cockpit, "Bona nai kachu. Surrender and prepare for boarding."
"Next time, Tara," Sleeno responded, his tone half way between a joke and a threat. "I'll scratch that black paint of yours." He closed communication and turned to Maris.
"I'm sorry, Jedi, but I don't think that I'll be getting you to the rendezvous." Maris nodded to the bulbous green head and went to gather his cloak.
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"You gonna be alright?" Sleeno looked sadly up at Maris once The Bonegnawer had landed. His stony eyes shone with what appeared to be sadness.
"I'll be fine," Maris pulled up his hood and stepped into the shadows. "Thank you."
"What is it you Jedi say?" Sleeno straightened his shoulders as the boarding ramp descended, "May the Force be with you." And then he was gone.
Maris used to Force to leap under the ramp. He crouched as Sleeno walked out into the space between the two ships. He watched as a woman descended from the ramp of the corvette. Her appearance shocked him. From the terseness of her voice, Maris had assumed she would walk out of the ship wearing Imperial grays, with grizzled hair pried from a wrinkled face.
This woman, however, was young, possibly even younger than the Jedi. She strode out to where Sleeno stood with a confident swing of her hips, her black cloak billowing out behind her. An aura radiated off of her, clearly warning she was not to be taken lightly. Apparently, this was not something one needed the Force to understand for Maris saw how the hangar attendants gave a slight salute and scurried away with the nod of her head.
Maris quickly rolled from under the Bonegnawer to rest behind a fuel rig. He looked back where the two were talking. He could not make out what they were saying, so he allowed his attention to drift back to the woman. She was actually quite lovely, Maris remarked. Her dark hair was plaited into an elaborate braid that hung down her back. The curves of her stoic face were somehow delicate as well as strong. She scowled at Sleeno, and Maris could tell it was an expression she wore far too often.
Then, she raised a blaster to Sleeno's head.
The situation had escalated and, instinctively, Maris covered the hilt of his lightsaber with a hand. He needed to move.
Luckily, the woman pushed Sleeno towards his ship. The Duro caught Maris's eye and the Jedi gave him a thankful nod.
Once they had ascended the boarding ramp and Maris was sure he was alone, he made a mad dash for the only place that where he sensed no life forms: The Paratta.
Maris immediately regretted his decision. He had not taken one step into the ship before he had to once again crouch and hide. A red-domed astromech toddled across the main corridor. Two more emerged from a side compartment. Now he understood why he felt no living beings aboard the ship: the whole thing was piloted by droids!
Maris flicked his finger and they were all deactivated and pushed back into their compartments.
Finally able to stand straight, Maris looked around the ship and quietly whistled. He was impressed. The Paratta had definitely benefitted from Imperial credits. Every surface was polished and equipped with the hottest technology. Maris wished he had more time to investigate, but the sound of footsteps pushed him along.
He ran until he found an open door and ducked inside.
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Tara carried her new astromech parts onto the ship and tried to figure out what she was going to do next. She had not spoken to the Moff in quite a while and he was expecting to hear from her soon with a good reason for why it was she was wasting his credits and fuel.
She hated this. She hated being trapped and reliant on anyone other than herself. But she couldn't just skip town or she would join the likes of Calrissian and Solo. And there was no place for a pirate in the Rebellion. Tara sighed and reached to thumb the door pad. Before her hand could reach the sensor, however, a crash sounded from the other side of the durasteel.
Tara dropped her crate and pulled her blaster from its holster. She did not take kindly to stowaways. Opening the door, Tara walked forward, placing her feet so as to keep her boot heels from clicking. Another crash clambered through the small supply bay followed by a curse. Tara spun in the direction of the noise.
Tara caught the sound of footfalls from behind her and turned to face the intruder. He stood tall and square before her, resilient.
"Who are you?" She demanded of the man.
"My name is Maris Aedann," he told her calmly, squaring his broad shoulders.
Her eye caught the hilt attached to his belt.
"Well, Maris Aedann," She approached him, finger staid on the trigger. "Surrender your weapon."
Surprisingly, he did.
Tara looked him over warily. She had always thought she would know a Jedi by his telltale robes. But underneath a nerf leather flight jacket this Aedann character wore only a common tunic, black pants, and knee high boots. Some sorcerer. Her eyes settled back on his face. It had obviously been sometime since he shaved and the slight stubble made him appear far more ruggedly handsome than a Jedi was ever supposed to be. She wondered from where such a thought had surfaced, she pushed it fiercely away.
Tara looked into his startlingly blue eyes, "You are hereby under arrest by the Galactic Empire for high treason, sedition, and fugitation."