Full title: Out in the Dark They Can Do What They Want All The Time
The story was originally written as a surprise for someone without any real plans to go past that last part. When it was clear I had to (due to, um, reader insistence), I came up with a fairly decent extrapolation of what I had already started and that's when things started to balloon into epic status.
We reach the point where my characters start outnumbering the copyrighted ones. The Inseptons are more or less explained, the Comouts are a insect-like race that is based out of our solar system (past Pluto) and the Dark Riders are just . . . unpleasant. As usual, any questions, feel free to ask!
Both men immediately leapt up upon hearing the noise. There was a metallic hiss and Solo saw both sets of claws emerge from the back of Logan's hands. Instantly tensed, his eyes swept the narrowed corridor and the parts that might lie around the corners.
"Easy," Solo whispered, even as he shifted so that his gun was held solidly in both hands. "Don't go cutting up my ship."
"Then make sure you ask him to stay still when we find him." He was already moving, hugging the wall. Casting his gaze around warily, Solo followed, looking into every shadow and seeing each aspect of the corridor like it was brand new. There was a shivery air inside the ship that he didn't recognize, something had lingered here for so long that it had begun to seep into the ship itself. He didn't like this, didn't want to see his beloved craft becoming something unfamiliar.
"Come on," he begged, doing his best not to aim at every stray noise.
"Look at this." Logan had reached the engineering station, the pale green and red lights of the monitors projecting onto his face. The claws on one hand had been withdrawn and his fingers were tapping at the screen.
"What?"
Logan glanced over his shoulder and snorted. "You tell me, bub. Spaceships aren't exactly my area of expertise."
"It's, ah . . ." he brushed Logan aside, holstering his laser and examining the readouts. "Wait a minute, this isn't how I left it. I had kept the engines idle so that I could power them back up at a moment's notice."
"Expecting trouble?"
"Never hurts to be too careful. And it's not like I was wrong, hm?" He hit a few more buttons, graphs and numbers projecting themselves from the screen and forming into layers stacks, each one taking him deeper into the problem. "But, no," he muttered, "someone else has been messing with them, what the hell were they doing-"
"That probably wasn't our ventilated soldier's doing then, was it?"
"The hell it was, they wouldn't know how to-"
Behind them the freight elevator slid open with a grinded shoosh and a shadow launched itself at them.
Solo saw it before Logan and that was only because he had started to turn toward the man when it emerged. There was no time to call out as it struck Logan, sending him spinning into Solo and crashing into the wall near the engineering banks. He half-slid down the wall before stopping himself, shaking his head fuzzily.
"What the . . ." he muttered, apparently dazed, his boot heels scraping at the floor and trying to get back up.
Solo already had his laser out. "You picked the wrong ship to break into, pal-" the rest of his words getting cut off in the echoed whine of the laser fired in the ship's confines.
The blast splashed against the back wall where the shadow had been standing a moment ago. How did he even manage to. The afterimages from the shot were still fading in his eyes when a casual hand knocked the laser away from him, sending it rattling across the floor. "No, wait," Solo said, but it was all slow motion as the same hand moved and twisted, almost like it didn't possess bones, grabbing him by the shoulder and tossing him in the opposite direction.
"Ah!" He rolled as his landed, feeling his arm wrench in the socket as his view of the ship turned over and upside down. Get up, he told himself, almost screaming the words in his head. You slow bastard, get the hell up before he.
In a dizzied blur, he saw Logan finally move, launching himself from the near-sitting position at the shadow. It caught him easily, too easily, and slammed him up against the wall. He heard Logan curse and slash out with his claws, heard the screeching wail as they sliced into the ship. But the shadow was already somewhere else, behind him, expanding and contracting with every motion.
No. No. That wasn't right. He levered himself up onto his knees, the world going all wobbly. The ship seemed to be divided into two zones where time wasn't running at the same rate, Solo's dripping down like viscous Harjellan wine and Logan's gone quicksilver, the two of them dodging around each other without friction, dark versus small, the glint of Logan's flashing claws nearly swallowed up by his opponent's absence.
Suddenly Logan ducked down and came up again, his fist punching at the shadow's center. It deflected it but the force of the blow caused it to stagger backwards and Solo heard the distinct sound of cloth unfurling against metal. His eyes were starting to adjust to the speed of everything and he could see now that it was shaped like a man. Already tall, standing near Logan made it seem to tower over him like the cord of a space elevator. It was wearing a cape that extended from the shoulders and descended nearly to the floor and dressed in some kind of black armor that didn't appear to have any seams.
That looks like. Solo felt some small part of his blood freeze. No, it can't be. The face was hard to see but it appeared to be wearing some kind of angular mask, the eyes only seen as glowing slits. I've never seen him but maybe. With the stormtroopers roaming the port and everything else . . . he didn't want to think about it. Just get through this. Just survive this, Solo.
"A little help would be nice," Logan shouted over his shoulder as he dove toward the man, connecting this time, the impact sending both of them tumbling around the corner.
"Not all of us have built in weapons," Solo called out, racing forward to follow, scooping up his laser along the way. The two of them were crashing ahead of him, the shadowed man blocking Logan's blows effortlessly, stopping his arms at the wrist so that the claws never had a chance to reach him. But he wasn't gaining any advantage either.
The two of them were grappling close together, the other man seeming to do it one-handed. They were revolving in the center of the corridor, slamming against the walls. The floor was already littered with broken components and sheared off pieces of the ship. This is coming out of your pay, Solo thought darkly as he tried to steady his arm for the was trying to push all resemblances out of his head and it was getting harder.
Logan flung his arms out, finding leverage somewhere and forcing the man to disengage. He stumbled back a few steps but then landed on the balls of his feet with immeasurable grace, one foot planted almost delicately behind the other. The cape swept back and around, enveloping him like it had a mind of his own.
"Got you now," Solo said, squeezing the trigger.
"No." Just the word was a silken whisper, sandpaper on the mind. The man's hand went to his belt, to a object clipped in the recesses.
The inside of the ship was suddenly awash in crimson light. Logan staggered back, eyes gone wide, one hand up as the glow stained his claws bloody.
With a pinging ricochet Solo's laser bounced off the unsheathed blade and rocketed into another portion of the ship. Seeing the weapon, he almost dropped his own and ran for the escape pods. No, it's not him, it's not him, it's not him. It was hard to breathe, the air had gone stagnant.
Immediately it swung at Logan, who ducked purely by instinct. It dug into the metal of the ship and carved a deep scar. Oil and hydraulic fluid leaked out from the cracks as the man brought the blade down, forcing Logan to dive to the side. Awkwardly he swiped at the man's legs with his own claws but from his angle the man could easily dance back.
"You can shoot at any time!" Logan ordered, pivoting and springing back to his feet. The blade was leaving hazy afterimages in the air, a subcutaneous humming that seemed to burrow into every layer of the skin and past. The sword came at his head again and he almost brought his claws up to block it. Seemingly thinking better of it, he leapt back, the man following him effortlessly, the tip of the blade hovering just inches from his body at all times.
"One of you needs to stand still!" But he couldn't the thought out of his head. It was only a single glimpse a few years back, hiding in the wake of a massacre of rebels and hoping not to get caught in the sweep. He had ducked inside a home and was watching the town square from a window when he came in to survey the damage. Imposing and like a dirty splotch on the freshly snowed landscape. They had brought a man to him and the man had kept screaming at him, his entire distant face contorted in rage. And the dark man never twitched, he just reached out and touched him with a single hand. Brushed up against him and the screaming man fell to the ground and stopped moving. They walked away and he didn't get up and nobody touched the body. Nobody did. He had watched it for what felt like a very long time.
And he was here. He was here now. "Dammit," he muttered, telling himself that the sweat he felt running down his back was from the exertion.
He fired again but must have twitched at the last second because the man simply wasn't there again, the bolt flying harmlessly by. Logan was moving in the wake of it, barreling into the man, shoving his arm aside to avoid the blade and trying to smash him up against the opposite wall. The other hand hooked at him and Solo saw it wasn't a proper hand at all but some kind of fork.
But somehow he was able to use it to lever Logan up and over, ducking down and around in ways that didn't seem possible, allowing the other man to arc over his head and land heavily on the ground. His impact made a noise like scaffolding crashing down and he rolled painfully, unable to react for a second.
Meanwhile, the man stood over him, the blade ready to come down. Its contrasts barely seemed to eat at the dark man's contours while painting Logan as a kind of frozen warning.
"I've got him," Solo said, trying to feel some semblance of calm.
Two shots slammed into the man abruptly, the first one striking him in the chest, sending him flailing backwards a few steps, the sword swinging wildly. Part of the armor went missing, revealing nothing but a brief fire and a deeper blackness. The second shot struck him in the side of the head, forcing the mask to buckle and collapse inwards, tendrils of fire briefly running around the outlines of it.
Without a sound and with a charred smell, the man tumbled to the floor. The sword rolled out of his limp hand and stopped somewhere near Solo's feet.
Exhaling slowly, Logan painfully got to his knees. "About time you decided to do something," he said with some sarcasm, pulling into a sitting position and rubbing at his face.
Solo lowered the laser. "I don't think that was me."
"No," said a new voice from the doorway. "It was me." Multiple legs tapped against the metal floor as a long body slid into view. "After all," the Insepton added, "it didn't seem like you were making any progress."
* * * *
Logan was the first to react. Lunging close to the alien, the tips of his claws were inches from the newcomer's face. "That's as far as you go."
The Insepton didn't even twitch. Making a rattling noise that might have been a sigh, it said, "If you insist. But your arm is going to get awful tired as I don't plan on going anywhere any time soon. We have business to discuss."
Solo had his laser trained on the alien, whose own weapon was held loosely in the wiry arm. "I think the only business we're going to discuss is how soon you're leaving."
The eyestalks bounced to regard both of them. "Right," it said in a bored tone. "Please get it all out of your systems now while nobody is trying to kill us. It will only get in the way later." Ducking sinuously under Logan's arm, it came further into the ship, seemingly ignoring both men. "Unless you'd like us to waste time attempting to slaughter each other, although you strike me as marginally more intelligent than that." It slipped the weapon into a pocket that appeared in its skin and went over to the dead man's body.
Solo and Logan exchanged confused glances, with Logan raising one eyebrow.
"Why weren't you speaking English before?" Logan asked, coming up behind the alien, although with his claws sheathed.
"English?" Solo muttered, giving Logan an odd glance.
"Before?" It seemed distracted for a moment and then looked at Logan in surprise. "Oh . . . before." A noise not unlike a bushel of sticks breaking was heard, perhaps its version of laughter. "I forget we must all look the same to you. We've never met before, although you haven't been difficult to track over the port."
"The others didn't talk like you, though." Solo bent down to examine the body as well. Now that he could see it close up he realized it wasn't who he thought it was at all. The body was slim, almost lithe and was functionally ornate after a fashion. His suspicions that the one hand was a two-pronged fork were confirmed, although he had no idea what might be used for. Now still, the body had a strange emptiness to it, Solo felt he could lift it up and there would be no weight to the armor at all.
"The others never bothered to learn the language. Not that it would have helped them from getting killed." The Insepton's nimble fingers probed at the cracks in the dead man's face, pulling them slightly aside so it could get a better look. "Ah." All Solo saw was a deeper and more solid darkness but he couldn't tell for sure.
"They're dead?"
"Oh, yes." One eye bobbed up to stare at Solo. Logan was pacing around behind them, perhaps fearing more were somewhere around. "Killed by more of this fellow here."
"You don't sound too sad over that." Logan came from around a corner that Solo hadn't even seen vanish into.
It looked up at him and if it could have shrugged, it might have done so. "Why would I be? They were fools, getting ahead of themselves. The Regathering cannot occur until the forsgalai is recovered and yet they were working together in defiance of it. Separate, we accomplish more. They knew this and banded anyway. Their fate was exactly what they deserved." There was no semblance of anger or disappointment in the alien's voice, just a simple matter-of-factness. "However, none of that is any of our concerns. What should worry you more is the presence of these on the port."
"Yeah, what is this?" Logan crouched down, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. "This guy here, it's odd. He's got no scent at all. He snuck up on us and I didn't even hear him. What is he, some kind of android?"
"This," the Insepton said, "is a Dark Rider. A servant, in a sense, and a warrior, and the last element we need inserting itself into this situation. They hail from another dimension, it is said. And he was not the only one of his kind on the port."
"But what do they want?" Solo wondered out loud. He didn't even need to wait for an answer. "The same thing everyone else does."
"At least they're all consistent," Logan said under his breath.
"Perhaps, but none of them have any claim on it as we do." The Insepton ran his fingers along the fabric of the cape.
The forcefulness of the alien's words caused Solo to go back a step, in the process nearly tripping over the sword. "Dammit," he said, his foot coming a bit too close to the blade for his comfort. Picking it up gingerly by the hilt, he said, "Are you sure it's a . . . Dark Rider? Because this sword here sure seems like it should belong to someone else."
"Careful," the Insepton warned. It plucked the weapon out of Solo's hands with a quick gesture, the blade hissing through the air as he swung it. "No, this is a Dark Rider and this is a Dark Rider's weapon. There are rumors that some of your kind may carry blades like these but they are not the same. No, a laser sword is only carried by two types of beings." Its fingers felt along the hilt, probing along the smooth surface. "One lies here before us." Finding a recessed switch, it slid its fingers along it and with an exhaled sigh the blade fell back into the hilt. It seemed that much darker in the room suddenly. "The other is something far worse."
And then without hesitation it flung the sword against the nearest wall, startling both men. It shattered immediately, falling in inert pieces to the floor, completely broken.
"What the hell was that?" Logan demanded. "One of us could have used that."
"Oh, I doubt it," the Insepton said, scuttling forward. "None of us here have the control required for such a weapon. It is said that to achieve mastery with the sword, they must be able to cut the darkness that shrouds their home and inflict scars upon it. Others venture that they spend centuries narrowing the blade so that they may carve their name into the molecules themselves, in the hopes of marking all creation."
Logan snorted. "Buddy, those are just stories."
"Oh, I agree," the Insepton replied. "But as with any story, it hides truths that we are not totally prepared to face." It turned away from Logan, heading toward the cockpit of the ship. "In any event, we are wasting time here. I trust you've already prepared the ship for takeoff? We should be leaving soon."
"Whoa, whoa," Solo said, stepping in front of the alien. Half-laughing, he said, "Who said you're coming with us?"
The alien didn't even seem fazed, although its lack of human expression didn't help. "You are departing the port soon, correct? For the location of the forsgalai, what belongs to us. I will be coming with you, so that I may reclaim it for my kind and trigger the Regathering. The sooner we leave for it, the less we will have to bear each other's company."
"I don't think that's happening, pal." Solo's hand was going to his belt. "I think it's time you got off the ship and piggybacked with someone else. Thanks a heap for saving us and everything but I'm not taking on any other passengers."
"Ah, I see," the Insepton said. "You're not completely grasping this. I suspect you have another mission with it that you feel takes precedence. Let me put it in other terms, then . . . it does not matter what quest you thought you were on before. That is all changed now. You will assist me in reclaiming it."
"You're not going to hear me ask again." He had the gun pointed right at the center of the alien's face. "Getting rid of two bodies isn't much harder than getting rid of one." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Logan moving, placing himself behind the Insepton.
The alien reached for its own weapon, segmented arms impossibly flexible. "I've been told that humans often requires matters to be explained to them several times before it sinks in. This situation will end in one of two ways . . . either you assist me or I will shoot you."
"There's a third option too," Logan hissed, crouching down next to the alien and placing his fist right behind its head. Solo thought he saw the tips of his claws poking out, an impending and violent birth.
"No, there are still only two." It was quite calm.
"I'm the only one who knows where it is," Solo explained, for some reason not wanting to see this turn into yet another bloodbath. "You're just bluffing, you have no reason to kill me."
"More importantly, you have no reason to want to die." Its stubby gun focused on his chest. "Understand this, we know that the forsgalai will be found some day. If it is not today and it is not because of you, then it will be on some other day and some other method. I have been searching from the moment I emerged into this life and if the search must continue, then so it must. Other opportunities will someday present themselves to others of my kind."
"Put that gun down or you'll be doing all your searching as a ghost." Another inch closer and were the claws sliding out? "You may want to rethink this."
One eyestalk swiveled to regard Logan. "I've done nothing but think about it. If you do not aid me, then I will shoot Han Solo and I will kill him. I imagine you will see to it that my life will not last much longer than that. If you think that will deter me in some fashion, you are mistaken. All any of us can do is take the search as far as we can, and if this is my end, then it is as it should be. The search will go on, without me, and I will have fulfilled my part in it. You, on the other hand, will be in a spaceship full of bodies that you cannot pilot, on a port that is about to become flooded with Empire soldiers and Dark Riders, all of whom will think you have some knowledge of what they seek. Which of us will have the more enviable position, in that case?"
Solo licked dry lips. "Back off, Logan, just . . . back off."
Logan glanced up. "You sure about that?"
"Listen to him, he doesn't give a damn whether he lives or dies." With a quick gesture he returned his laser to his belt and stepped past the Insepton. "This isn't worth us getting killed over it because this guy is nuts. He wants to come along with us, fine. Let everything falls as it does, then, I really don't care. I just want this over with."
"All right." Logan stood up slowly, although he didn't take his eyes off the Insepton. "Are we leaving, then?"
"I'd like to," Solo called out from another the corner. Presumably he had gone back to examine the engineering readouts. Logan stayed put, to keep an eye on the alien, who had returned its weapon to the holster and was idly poking around the ship, examining various components. Logan wanted to stop him, but in all honesty he didn't know which parts were important or not.
"I just want to see if that bastard did anything to my . . . dammit!" There was the sound of a fist banging against metal and Logan took off around the corridor as a shot, fearing another attack.
He found Solo leaning against the wall opposite from the console, one hand pressed against the bridge of his nose. The three dimensional readouts were again floating over the computers but Logan couldn't make heads or tails out of them.
"Not good news?"
"He did something to the engines, they were rigged so that once they were engaged they'd force a chain reaction and collapse inwards. Don't ask me how he did it, he had to disable several safety features to even start." He sighed and shook his head.
"How dead would we have been?"
"Very. And not just us, it would have ripped through the port and caused an indentation in space. Maybe the damn robots would survive but I don't even know about that. Ah." He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes half-closed. He looked very tired, gazing at Logan out of his peripheral vision. "It's really never easy, is it?"
"Not that I've ever found," Logan replied with a frown. "So what are we going to do about it?"
"I already started a reprogramming procedure to put everything back." Logan could see tiny lights running up and down the banks, while different shapes merged and danced in the tinted readouts. "It's going to take a while though."
"Time we don't have." The Insepton slithered into view. "Hear that?"
Logan tilted his head to the side. "Some kind of . . . siren?" Solo strained but heard nothing beyond the familiar hummings and churnings of the ship.
"Yes. The port is losing control of the situation, something the Empire will take advantage of and use to move in shortly. The Dark Riders have already infiltrated and it is only a matter of time before one of the groups finds us."
"I can seal the ship from the port and we can sit tight," Solo offered. "That would be our best bet."
"That would be a grave mistake. And it won't stop the Dark Riders." There was a certain grimness to the alien's speech. "Other measures must be taken. Yes." Without warning it suddenly pivoted in the narrow corridor and went back to the front of the ship.
"What the hell is he doing?" Solo asked, darting after the Insepton. It was moving swiftly, already reaching the connection between the ship and the port even as Solo came around the bend.
"You could just let him go," Logan said.
Solo didn't break his stride. "What are the chances of whatever the hell he's doing not involving us?" He noticed that Logan didn't slow down either and the two of them dashed through the connecting tunnel.
They emerged outside again into the Comout's sector, greeted again with the dimness of the area and the constant mirrored surfaces that appeared to reflect darkened lakes. There was no sign of the Insepton and Solo threw his hands up in frustration, swearing under his breath.
Logan narrowed his eyes and peered down into the gloom. "Wait," he said, holding up a hand. His nostrils flared slightly. "He's over this way," and he took off at a loping pace leaving Solo with no choice but to follow.
They found him slightly further on, where the sector had grown a bit brighter due to the restoration of the port's clear ceiling overhead, allowing for starlight to come leaking through. They shown above in random dense patterns, the different shades of pale light giving the Insepton a mottled appearance.
He wasn't facing them but seemed to know they were approaching. "We can't do this on our own anymore," he said, eyestalks twitching. "It's going to require other assistance."
"Hey, listen," Solo said, jogging the last few steps to catch up to Logan. "What the hell do you think you're even doing?"
"I've already told you, getting help." Did it twitch just then, as if nervous?
"No. No." Solo went around and bent down so that he was level with the alien's eyes. "That isn't how it works, pal. We're all on-board this together, you want to go off and do something, you discuss it with us first because it's all our necks on the line here, okay? And maybe you don't care about getting killed, but the rest of us do. Or I will strap you to the engines myself when we do take off. Got it?"
"Are you quite finished?"
Solo blinked, rocked back slightly. "Yeah. I guess I am. So before you do anything, how about telling us exactly what this little plan of yours entails."
The Insepton bent a little in its middle and pivoted. "There isn't anything to tell. It's already been done."
Solo sprang to his feet. "Wait, what do you mean by-"
"Han." Something in Logan's voice forced Solo to stop immediately. The other man was staring upwards, starlight producing shards of light and darkness on his face. For the first time, he didn't look out of place on the port. "You may want to see this."
Solo looked up.
* * * * *
It was space above, the way it had always been. Flat and forever and impossibly beautiful. Too often he had met people that believed it was all static and sterile, dim lights poking through an endless sheet of darkness. They were wrong, he could look up there and see nothing but constant motion, the spaceships darting between stars, the stars acting as the center of the planets' stately rotations, the systems pivoting around each other, the galaxies whirling in endlessly slow dances, arms drifting eternally outward in elegant and gentle drift. How do you get up there? he had asked once, pointing at the sky and marveling at how huge it was and how his hand could cover so much of it. You fly up, was the response, you fly up until there is no up or down anymore and that's how you know you're there. So he had gone up and stayed up and at some point decided to never come back down again.
Up into the space above. The space that was different now.
The space that now held a ship, hovering overhead.
"Oh boy, that's not good," Solo muttered, stepping back even though he knew it would do nothing.
It was far enough above that the whole length of it could be seen. It was rounded on one end, almost a sphere, with a tail that tapered off into a fine point. Merely sitting there, it appeared to be tacked onto the landscape.
"What did you do?" Solo demanded, rounding on the Insepton. "What the hell did you do?" It merely stared at him without speaking.
In the distance a ringing siren could be heard, growing louder and louder, filling up every available space. Words babbled forth in several different languages, none of it sounding reassuring, cascading forwards in tumbles of barely concealed panic. Do not be alarmed, it seemed to proclaim, trying to shout over the noise of a world collapsing. There is nothing to worry about. Please stay put.
The space next to the ship flickered slightly and bent and suddenly there was another ship present. Two more dropped in nearby, followed by several others as the first ones to arrive gradually began to spread out, some of them moving out of view of the port's ceiling.
"Han, who are they?" Logan asked, his fists clenching helplessly. He looked like a man who desperately wanted something to hit. "What just happened?" The anger in his voice was doing its best to mask his utter confusion.
"Those were ships coming out of hyperspace," Han said breathlessly. "They must have dropped right out . . . that's, that's not easy. Most of the time unless you're extremely precise you run the risk of materializing into a planet or port if you're even a little bit off. We're good and even I drop in a half-parsec away and then drift . . ." he stopped, seeing Logan's expression. "At what point did I lose you?"
"You could have just stuck with 'it's not easy'," he replied dryly. Clasping his hands together and cracking a knuckle, he added, "Or just answered my first question. Who are these people?"
"We're standing in their patch of home here," the Insepton broke in. "Those are Comout ships above us."
The ground under their feet suddenly vibrated as a not-too distant clang was heard.
"And in a few moments you'll get to meet them." The alien scuttled away, ducking back toward the docking bays. "Come."
Neither man moved right away. Logan leaned over and whispered to Solo, "Are we really doing this?"
Solo didn't look at him. Staring straight ahead at a distance he couldn't see properly, he said, "What other choice do we have?"
"Jump him now? Run for it while we can?" Solo didn't blink or respond. "You strike me as the kind of man who might try to overwhelm the crew and take over the ship." An aborted metallic hiss sighed from his hand. "And I'm just the kind of man who might help you."
"No." Solo visibly shook himself, rousing himself from a dream. "We've got to play it his way for the moment." He started walking where the Insepton had gone, his steps too measured, although without hesitation. His boots clanked hollowly on the floor, echoing without resonance. "This is going to be the safest place for us now. And if we bolt he's going to be able to find us."
"Don't be so sure."
Solo shot him a look. "They've been spending ages trying to find the most well hidden object in the entire universe. With that kind of practice, anything else is easy. And what is with you, anyway, you sound like you want to get into a fight."
"And you sound like a man who's trying to avoid one," Logan retorted. "I thought you said these guys weren't supposed to get this thing. Now we're about to hand it to him. You got a reason?"
"Just the best one of all. It'll give us time until I think of something better." For the first time a bit of fire came back into his eyes. They had rounded the corner and could see the Insepton standing before one of the docking bay doors, alone and small. "Now, you want to beat up an entire ship of aliens, be my guest, but this isn't over yet."
Logan stared at him for a few seconds before nodding solemnly. "As long as I get to reserve it as a plan B."
Solo laughed quietly but gleefully. "That's the spirit."
Ahead, the Insepton wasn't even looking at them, although with his eyes set the way they were it was hard to tell exactly how his peripheral vision went. There was a steady whirring behind the great metal door as a massive weight outside was interfacing with the port.
"Why would they come back?" Solo called out across the narrowing distance. "They haven't occupied this section in years, how did you bring them here?"
"They never really left," the Insepton said. So soft, its voice somehow carried. It was rubbing its hands together, fingers threatening to tie themselves into knots. "They simply were not here. Flitting against your dark backgrounds and from star to star, carving their own trails on the outside. You never found them because you might move to where they had once been, only for they already to be gone." The door was starting to rotate, ponderous and keening. The two men had reached the alien. Logan rocked back on his heels, alert. Solo simply watched, not flinching as the sound began to crescendo. "You don't understand them at all. They have no use for other races, you are only significant to the extent that you don't affect them."
With an exhaled cough the bay door suddenly lurched open, unleashing a gust of dusted air, warm around the edges. Stout humanoid shapes could be seen through the silhouetted gloom, arranging themselves in triangular formation. The glaring hum of the ever-present siren seemed a jagged wind they all had to struggle against.
"They went to roam and left you here, seething and crawling, clinging to this disintegrating hunk of metal floating in space. Leaving you to cry at the pitiless dark, as if occupying a speck was some kind of victory while they pushed ever further outward." The thick droned roar of the opening door was being replaced by a different kind of wail, the narrowed scream of a charging laser. "They did not abandon this place. It was ever only a place for them to rest, before they finally moved on."
"I think I liked your buddies better," Solo sneered. "They didn't babble as much. You got a point here?"
"Only this." There was a noise like a shell imploding and suddenly men of all shades of brown and grey burst out from the entryway, fanning out to either side. The air was immediately flush with a constant dense wave of chittering as shadows leapt up and around, surrounding the three of them. In the semi-dark two details could be made out instantly. One was the pinpricked glow emanating from the tips of their weapons, a series of flickering eyes ready to blink at the slightest move.
"I did not bring them back here."
The second detail was that they were not even remotely human.
"All I did was remind them."
Blocky bodies set on thickened legs that seemed to bend backwards at the knee, both steady and swaying. Bipedal, they stood up straight although some were crouching down. Their arms ended in what appeared to be multi-jointed claws, like a crustacean's.
One came close to Logan, spraying out a rapid series of staccato notes. He drew back a step, lips drawn tightly together. "Bugs," he whispered, and allowed himself nothing more.
But indeed. Their eyes were rounded and set on opposite sides of their heads, their mouths complex and set with a series of mandibles. Two slim antenna drooped from the tops of their foreheads, twitching at the tips, as if constantly scanning. They appeared to be dressed in a kind of tightly woven uniform that glistened in the meager light, knitted scales that bent without creasing.
"What is this?" Solo said, looking about quickly, one hand resting on the butt of his laser. The chattering only increased, cutting through the screeching alarm like a rain of serrated edges. "Tell them to put their weapons down." Their speech sounded like bullets hitting the roof of a metal shed and ricocheting onto concrete.
"We're swiftly approaching plan B," Logan muttered.
The Insepton shouted a word then, buzzing like a slash through all the racket. The aliens' clatter didn't go away entirely but it lightened considerably. The Insepton wheeled about, legs skittering underneath to keep it stable, wielding the word like a rapier and letting it brush against all of them.
When he finished the word hung uneasily overhead, a snowfall that hadn't quite decided to descend. None of the Comouts twitched or wavered, and Solo was starting to wonder if he was going to have to improvise faster than he had expected. Logan had managed to grow even shorter, as if compressing himself, hands clenched into loose fists, achieving a coiled stance.
As the near-silence stretched into the second minute, one of the Comouts stood up and broke away from the circle, approaching the center where the Insepton stood. It had on a slightly more supple uniform, although old cracks and other signs of age were noticeable. Its weapon, a slim device that was held deftly in the sharpened claws, was pointed toward the floor, although Solo suspected it could be brought back to bear very quickly if the need presented itself.
The Comout barked out a series of fast phrases to the Insepton then, the overall effect not unlike sound itself vomiting sideways through the wall of its own skin. Music ran through a grater and reassembled blindly, with no regard for logic or continuity.
The Insepton answered in kind, its grasp of the rhythm not seeming as fluid. The Comout's antennae twitched as if refocusing on all the details around it even as its face gave no clues as to what it might have been thinking. The two of them went back and forth in that fashion for a minute or two, the words escalating and falling without any kind of link to reason.
Finally a silence came as the two aliens regarded each other. The Comout snapped out a jagged phrase while bringing his pincer down in a sharp gesture. Solo didn't know what it meant but the action was clear to the others, who all lowered their weapons. Still, they kept a distance from his company, even as the Insepton and the lead Comout continued to speak quietly.
"This is a step in the right direction," Solo noted.
"Unless what they have in mind doesn't involve shooting us," Logan replied warily.
"They will not be shooting you," the Insepton spoke without turning around. "Or otherwise causing you harm. They've agreed to take us on board."
"Why?" Solo asked, even as the lead Comout stepped back, making a gesture that he assumed meant for them to go by and enter. The others hung back, perhaps waiting for them to make a move, their bodies appearing as embedded shadows leaking out of the surrounding murk. "They don't seem to be the types to hire themselves out as a shuttling service."
"What do they want?" Logan asked suddenly, stepping forward. If there was menace in his stance the aliens couldn't read it and refused to slide aside. He eyed them all, tinged with suspicion. "Everyone involved in this wants something, they want to use this thing you've lost. These ones aren't any different . . . what is it?"
The Insepton stared at him for a second, its head tilted slightly. "Knowledge, of course," it said, hardly fazed. "Once recovered, we have no need to keep it to ourselves, once it's purpose has been served it need not be sequestered. There are records inside it of the past times, histories that have been lost or fractured in the times since. Like any others they wish to better know those times so they can better understand themselves." The alien shifted sideways, waving the two of them forward. "But come, their presence has put the port on alert and the authorities should be coming to investigate soon. We should not be here when they arrive." The alarms flared again in the distance, both wailing and warning, and if anyone was marching under its clamor their footsteps would be masked.
"We shouldn't be here at all," Logan muttered but strode forward, giving the Comout a terse nod as he went by. The alien's antenna twitched but it made no noise. The others began to close in as a semi-circle, forcing Solo forward even if he wasn't already hesitantly going.
"Easy, easy," he said, turning to face one of the Comouts as it came close to his back. It stared at him with unblinking eyes and made a noise not unlike chalk breaking. Addressing the Insepton, who had gone ahead and was almost in the ship, he said, "You never said how you got them to come here. There was nothing stopping them from letting some other poor suckers find the thing and stepping in to claim it once the shooting had finished."
"Old ties," was all the Insepton said at first. The three of them were in the airlock now, their voices echoing in curved lines in the sterile chamber, underlined with a hollow drone that might have been space shifting outside, curling in velvet waves. "Agreements. Ones that predate every history you know.
And then they were inside the ship. The ceiling was low enough that Solo had to duck down slightly, although Logan could stand up straight with no problem. It came across as both cramped and spacious, with no sharp corners but a certain expansiveness that moved along graceful lines. To the left was a narrow corridor that appeared to branch off into several other rooms. The subsonic hum of the engines seemed to be coming from both that direction and underneath them as well.
To the right was the front of the ship and what Solo assumed was the bridge. Nothing separated it from the rest of the craft, you could walk and find yourself suddenly surrounded by banks of piloting computers. The section was rounded, almost spherical and the whole of the wall was taken up by a wide window, carved into a strip. Right now the view only showed the serene expanse of space, with nothing to disturb the stars' calm reveries. A couple of Comouts were seated in front of the controls, checking readouts and readying switches while talking quietly to each other.
Solo and Logan stood near the doorway while all the Comouts behind them started to move decisively as soon as they entered the ship, splitting to go around both men. Immediately they scattered to different parts of the vessel, working on reflexes that Solo recognized from his time in space. Travel was travel, no matter who it was and what you traveled in. Do it long enough and there was a certain sameness to it, and some others were always automatic. There were a lot of ways to die out here and not many ways to avoid it.
The Insepton situated himself among it all, as the one static item in a constantly shifting world. Staring at Solo over its own back, it said, "The Comouts fought with my race in the wars, a very long time ago. The wars where the forsgalai were lost and my planet destroyed. To atone for their inability to help us recover it, a proclamation was struck, a promise to aid us whenever they might be found." Behind them the door slid shut and sealed, while the humming under their feet increased in pitch. "That was what I invoked to get them here. The Comouts do not like to associate among other races, but they have some sense of honor, and history, for which I am grateful."
"Aren't we all?" Solo said, stepping further into the ship and taking a look around as much as his bent posture would allow. There were some chairs further up on the bridge but many of them were occupied and the ones that weren't seemed a bit too small for him.
There was a slight bump as the ship disengaged from the port and slowly the view began to drift sideways. Almost automatically Solo began cataloging the stars he saw, gauging directions and possible hyperspace routes. You don't stop, he told himself, although it wasn't a criticism.
"We're in space." Logan was staring about warily, looking like he needed to pace and that his path to pace would take him outside the spaceship entirely. Without waiting for the rest of them he walked over to the viewport, as close as he could get without getting in the way of the pilots. His eyes searched the field of stars, as if the curve of the glass might give away some hidden fold or bend, that might suggest that it all wasn't as far away as it seemed.
"Yeah," Solo said, unable to keep a grin off his face as he watched the view sliding upwards, the edge of the port clear on the right side. There was barely any sense of motion, it was almost as smooth as his own ship. This is a nice piece of work. For a moment he could forget why he was actually here.
Unfortunately the Insepton had to go and remind him. Strolling up to Solo with the lead Comout, he said, "As soon as we are clear of the port, the pilots are going to need the coordinates from you. The sooner we reach the forsgalai and recover it, the sooner this can be over."
Solo eyed him with suspicion. "And what can convince me that you're not just going to dump us out the airlock when you've got what you need?"
The Comout drew closer and Solo found that it smelled of dust and damp metal. "There is warranted truth in your suspicions," it said, the voice a series of clickings that just happened to fall into sounds resembling recognizable words. "You've said, we've heard and we can tell you this, thus. We have the journey out and the journey back, the two parts? Can this be agreed?"
"Sure," Solo answered cautiously, trying to navigate the syntax, which seemed ready to spiral off into unpredictable directions at any second. "But how much of that am I going to be around for?"
In the meantime Logan had moved away from the viewscreen and was hovering at the edge of the small group, his presence hardly registering. "How come we understand this one?" Even when you knew he was there, his voice was a surprise.
"I hope I'm understanding him because he seems to be agreeing not to kill us."
"He can try to kill us," Logan said and Solo could hear the wolfish grin in his voice without actually seeing him. "But I don't think he'd find it so easy."
The Comout expelled a noise of marbles being swallowed. "Dealings with humans have imparted this in words." It crossed its arms over its chest and bowed slightly at the waist. "Par'ganthra as named, as carved and set. On my starslider we set, skiptraced outwards. Known, yes? To reanswer your inquestion, we travel for this and leave separate when it is done." The alien's antenna never stopped twitching and rotating as it talked and Solo wondered how many nuances he was losing by not being able to read the Comout's body language. "With no harm promised or inflicted, gone out or gone down. What we tryseek is not oursowned, so your lives or extinguishments are not our worries. You'll find no cause in our flicker."
Solo took a second to digest this. "I think he's saying that they're just along for the ride and he doesn't actually care about this damn thing."
Logan scratched at his cheek. "He's telling the truth." There was a certain surety to his statement but he gave no hint how he might know that. "And I got to say, it's about damn time someone was a realist about this."
"They're not going to hurt us but he's not exactly going to be heartbroken if something happens to us along the way that can't stop. At least that's what I got out of it." He glanced at Logan. "You think it would set relations back a step if I said the feeling was mutual?"
Logan's response was a snort. "Only because you said it before I did."
"The Comouts have no wish to involve themselves in this any more than they have to," the Insepton broke in, slithering dryly between the two camps. "That I can assure you of. They will take us there and assist in securing it, but they have no desire to keep you beyond that."
"Prisoninters? What need for that, entailed?" Par'ganthra rolled his shoulders in what might have been a shrug. "We go and reencover and slide out again, to our way. Simpleistic. You are here, as now. Shall we engage in its brevity and be better for it?"
"It's the closest I've heard to a plan all day." Solo clapped his hands together. "Let's get this over with, then, so we can all go back to pretending we never met. Sound good?" He flashed a broad grin and seemed ready to clap the Comout on the back.
"Very good," the Insepton said. "I'm most grateful for your cooperation in this."
"Hey, when I'm for a cause, I go all the way." The two of them were walking up to the bridge. Logan trailed behind, watching Solo intently but saying nothing.
"Most endeared." Par'ganthra gestured and one of the Comouts vacated his chair. "To be rigorous, I expected more combating in this." He sat down, the blunted hands moving swiftly and easily over the controls. The sleek bulk of the port was taking up most of the screen now, the various docks jutting out as fists clenched into the dark, trying to hold on to any slice held within the emptiness. The ship was still rising, in moments it be over the relative top of the port. "The coordinations, we were prepared for extractions in any means and disposal when all was enquired. The scattersprays required a testing." It looked over its shoulder at Solo, mandibles clacking open wide. "But the need was not. Pitys." It poked at him almost playfully, a certain tilt to its seated posture suggested that Solo had just been the subject of alien humor.
"Ha." The laugh was weak, but the Comout didn't seem to notice. It was more engaged in bringing up multiple displays, some bleeding into the view and seeming to be overlaid on space itself. Solo recognized them as local starcharts, the angles were slightly different and the distance markers not one he was used to, but he had studied enough to know the general positions.
"Here, this," Par'ganthra said, tapping a cubical schematic and sending it spinning, the stars inside exchanging placements as dancers exchanging partners. His pincer indicated a block of controls that looked vaguely like a keypad. "Enterings in thisness, and can be gone."
The Insepton came up next to him. "That will set the coordinates. Then we can go."
"That simple, hm?" Solo frowned, massaging his chin. He glanced back to see Logan staring at him, one eyebrow raised.
"It is, yes, but may not be familiar to you." The Insepton's fingers stroked the three-dimensional display, sending ripples undulating across the map of suspended lights. "I have some experience with these, if you tell me I can translate and enter it myself. The less possible errors the better."
"Right," Solo said, easing himself back so that he was standing behind Par'ganthra's chair. The Comout's head turned slightly but with the position of his eyes Solo wasn't sure how good his peripheral vision was.
"Please don't stall now. Not after all this." The alien's voice was the one unmoving spot on a fluid ship.
"Sorry," Solo said quickly, "I didn't mean to. I was just trying to think of the conversions. Winging it like this I want to make sure it's right . . ." he shook a hand in the air, biting his lip in thought. "See, my navigator uses mostly letters and there's just one that . . . ah!" He snapped his fingers, pointed at Logan. "Hey, pal, what's the second letter of the alphabet?"
Logan's eyes, which had been half-closed, suddenly grew wide. "What's that?" he said with some deliberateness. The leather in his jacket creaked as his shifted his stance.
"The letter," Solo said, emphasizing each word. "The second one. Remember what it stands for?"
Logan causally walked over to the center of the bridge, toward another bank of controls. The Comout there chanced a look over at him but merely made a stuttered noise and continued with its work. "Oh yeah," he said, letting his arms swing freely. "It's the most direct route."
"Exactly." Solo bent over the keypad, fingers poised. "I'm glad we're in agreement over that. It's so easy to get confused."
"Hey, that's what I'm here for." Logan gave Solo an almost imperceptible nod. "Pal."
"Anytime-" Solo said but even before the word was out, Par'ganthra's arm shot out, nearly knocking him aside. Solo's hand went to his laser but the Comout ignored him entirely, instead pointing at the viewscreen.
"Look . . ." was as close as it might have sounded, the end of the word trailing off into syllables that represented the entrails of white noise.
The ship had cleared the top of the port and it was immediately apparent that they had company. Around Solo the bridge broke into a flurry of bustling aliens as they all began to talk very rapidly, racing from control bank to control bank and seeming to hit buttons and switches almost at random.
Solo, meanwhile, just stood up straight and stared.
Also gliding up over the roof of the port, like some kind of angular sunrise, was a gigantic starship. It was roughly triangular in shape, a kind of whitish grey in color, the front of it tapering to a point with a malicious sleekness, a tower rising up from the back end of it, floors stacked in layers. Its surface appeared entirely smooth from this distance but lights could be seen flickering on the face of it and Solo suspected those were bristling armaments and opening docking bays. Already specks were flitting around it like children working up the nerve to leave a parent. Even from this distance it took up the entire view from the Comout ship, stretching from one end to the other. Its grace while floating seemed utterly unearned and fraught with an inescapable menace.
"What the hell is that?" Logan exclaimed, even as he dodge back as two Comouts ducked around him, shouting toward the rear portions of the ship. A small alarm began to buzz from somewhere, but Solo wasn't sure if that was just from his own ears as his brain tried to drown out what he was seeing.
His throat suddenly dry, Solo swallowed thickly so he might be able to speak. "That's what things hitting the fan look like. It's a Star Destroyer and it means the Empire is finally tired of screwing around." Other Comout ships were converging nearby, settling into a brief formation and then scattering along nexus lines. Even with the "tails" of the ships as stiffened rods they seemed impossibly fluid in flight, wavering as if seen though a veil of water.
At the console a light was frantically whirring. Par'ganthra stabbed at the button and a harsh voice emanated from the speaker. ". . . area has been declared a sealed zone by order of the Empire, all spacefaring lifeforms are to return to await instructions at the port for processing . . . we repeat, this area has been declared . . ."
"We're going to have to get the hell out of here," Solo shouted over the grating voice. The Insepton had backed away, wringing its hands together in a pensive fashion. "There's no way you guys are going to be able to fight that."
"We are unsubjected to their orderings," Par'ganthra said dismissively. He turned away from Solo to bark some orders at the rest of his crew who were already settling into an efficient locksteps of motions. "Reunmoved from their dictatures, our passagings are free and none of their concerns." He struck a switch on the console, speaking a bit louder and as a stream of notes in his own language.
"He just told them to ignore the Empire's demand but not to engage unless provoked." The Insepton was watching the window intently, the bulk of the Star Destroyer almost reflected in his tiny eyes. "We're maintaining our present course."
"I've got a bad feeling about that," Solo murmured. As he spoke, he saw a cluster of smaller ships break away from the main vessel and start to whirl their way toward the Comout vessels at a high velocity.
"Foolish," the Insepton said flatly. "The Comout ships are far more maneuverable, they're not going to be able to follow." The Empire's fighters drew closer and Solo could see it was the standard TIE design, a central ball to house the pilot with hexagonal "wings" on either side to stabilize the craft in its flight. Spinning, they whipped past the Comout ships, which immediately sidewhirled away, diving along and underneath the port.
". . . all outside craft are advised to immediately return to the port . . ." the Empire's voice continued. "This warning will not be repeated, all craft that are not in compliance will be subject to seizure or subsequent destruction. There will not be another warning."
"We need to jump and get clear of the system." Solo had to resist the urge to shove Par'ganthra out of his chair and take over the piloting controls himself. The vessel was moving, the view tilting as they started to take evasive action against any starfighters that might be coming near. Most of them were playing a dangerous game of tag with the other Comout ships, the Empire ships attempting to drive them toward the port. The Comout ships were strangely slippery though, corkscrewing or changing course almost at will. For all its speed and shifting, it was watching a quicksilver childrens' ballet darting into a crowd of lumbering Bantha. "It's not going to take long for someone to get tired of this and start shooting."
"They won't be able to hit them," the Insepton countered.
"That really isn't going to stop them." He felt the ship suddenly lurch under his feet and his eyes caught just the fleetest second of an ionized haze streaking silently past the vessel's window. It was unclear who had fired but within seconds the sky was being crisscrossed with laser beams, reds and greens and blues leaving burnt afterimages on the vision. "Listen, the Empire didn't get as far as it has by sticking with conventional wisdom. They're brilliant and stupid all at once." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Logan standing right up against the window, one arm leaning on the wall so that his face was inches from it. The laser flashes played out over his expression, sinking deep into his eyes as if they might enter his brain and ricochet inside. "We have to get out of here first."
"Put the coordinates in and we'll jump to them," the Insepton said calmly.
Solo felt his pulse quicken. "Don't worry about that right now. Just leap to wherever and we can figure it out later." The Insepton merely stared at him, waiting for a different answer perhaps. "You want to lead them right to it? You think they can't track a hyperspace jump?" Out in space a series of lasers coming from different angles clipped one of the Comout ships, sending it tumbling end over end. Somehow it righted itself with a maneuver that almost bent the ship in two and lanced out with a volley of laser fire that resulted in two Empire fighters careening away, the hulls torn apart by rppling explosions.
"More delays merely work in the favor of other elements," the Insepton replied darkly. "Recovery is our primary goal here, the rest will sort itself out."
"Tell yourself that when we've got a squadron or two right on our asses!"
"Interarguers, enough," Par'ganthra snarled out, pivoting in his seat to glare at the two of them, his antennae downturned as angry eyebrows. "On this starslider, this word is and is mine alone. Our course, perdecided, we will eject shortly. Soonly." Its claws were dancing over the controls, the original schematic of the area vanishing, replaced with rapidly scrolling data and positions. "Their range determined, we will ervade and then tillarrive for the climaxtics of this event. Agreed, inter?" Neither of them responded to the speech, and after a moment Par'ganthra simply tilted his head and went back to his console. "Nil matters, the action is struck, withwithout your word."
"You're making a mistake . . ." For the first time the Insepton seemed agitated, its legs drumming uneasily along the metal floor. "Going off course will only-"
"Jump to your last origin point," Solo ordered, bending down so that his face was level with the Comout's, doing his best to talk over the Insepton. "It should be set in the systems still, just go back there." The Comout didn't act. "Come on, before they-"
"Its redirection cannot be accomplished," Par'ganthra said without taking his eyes off the massive starship. "The space is too denserting with wracked debros, it won't be clipped safe."
It took Solo a second to even begin to comprehend. "Wait, what did you mean, we can't jump now or we can't go back to where you were-ah!"
His sentence was cut off as the ship suddenly lurched violently, sending him crashing chest first into the console and then reeling backwards, narrowly dodging cracking his head on a chair on his way down. He landed painfully on his back, the wind knocked out of him briefly as the rest of the ship erupted into bangings and shoutings as the crew hung on to whatever was nearest. Or failed to, depending on their reflexes.
Wincing, Solo rolled onto his side to see the bridge blossoming into layers of flurried activity as the ship continued to rock from side to side, a keening scream beginning to be heard from the engines.
In the midst of it all he saw Logan, standing still and balanced where he had been against the window, looking like the one unmovable object left in the entire world. His face didn't even seem to acknowledge the chaos gradually unfolding around him. The ship bucked again and he adjusted his stance casually, unconsciously, as if a constantly tilting world was his natural state.
"This, ah, was not foreordained," Par'ganthra muttered, using the console to force himself to his feet while stabbing at some buttons. "Is there dalmage, please stream reports to this . . ." the rest of his words trailed off into undecipherable clickings as he seemed to remember his own language.
Solo was almost to his feet when the floor heaved once more, sending him back toward the floor. Before he hit, a hand caught his arm firmly in its grasp, lifting him easily to his feet. He found himself face to face with Logan, who had somehow crossed the room without stumbling.
"This is where you tell me that this is supposed to happen," Logan said, his voice calm but with a certain worry lingering in his eyes. You probably can't heal decompression, can you? "Right?"
"Going by everyone's reactions, I don't think-" a shiver ran through the spacecraft again, throwing Solo into the unyielding Logan. Again he was struck by how solid the man was, like someone had poured metal into his insides. Logan's hand was at his shoulder to steady him and from that close Solo could see the tiny scars where the claws emerged. And suddenly he didn't want to stand that close.
Shoving away from the man he braced himself on the nearest empty chair, pivoting his body toward the main window. With his stance stabilized he finally had a chance to take in the view and his eyes widened slightly.
"I think I see what the problem is," he said, just as Logan turned as well.
The Star Destroyer was much closer than it was before, and seemingly growing larger by the second. It massive size easily filled up the window, the edges of it not even visible and the various turrets and battlements could begun to be made out. The guns were too far away to be seen but Solo had a feeling he knew which direction they were pointing in.
"Hey," he said, staggering toward Par'ganthra and nearly landing on the alien's back. "Hey, listen, I think we're caught in a tractor beam." Off to the wings of the view he could see several other Comouts ships also apparently caught in the same situation, the crafts wriggling like fish at the end of a taut line.
"That assesserment may prove to provide accurity." The Comout didn't seem too concerned, continuing to work quickly but calmly at the controls.
"What does that mean?" Logan asked, joining Solo on the alien's other side.
"It's, ah, its an energy beam that produces a kind of force field that . . ." the looming vessel kept distracting his train of thought. "It's going to drag us inside their ship, all right? How the hell do you not know what that is?"
"I don't really make a habit of this kind of thing," Logan replied icily.
"I think we can all agree that the inside of that ship is the last place we want to be." The Insepton nearly startled Solo, so quietly did he come up. He had almost forgotten about the alien, in all honesty. Surprisingly it didn't look any worse for wear, maybe because it was closer to the floor. Still, it was impressive that nobody had managed to fall on it. "A hyperspace jump is out of the question now."
"It would tear the ship apart," Solo explained, for Logan's benefit. The man only nodded, the revelation not seeming to surprise him. "But we're not too close yet, maybe the engines at full power can tear away from the beam . . ."
"It's attempt is forlonged," the Comout said. It turned slightly and shouted a skittered command to members of the crew on the other end of the bridge. One squeaked and hit some more buttons. A second later the engines reached a higher pitch. "But the tractations are dependant on totality of massings. An overloaded overwhelming may product a severing."
The metal around them creaked violently as the ship twisted yet again. The Insepton trotted over to another console, its eyes scanning the readouts. "Aha, clever," it said. Even with their situation, there was an odd cheer to its voice. "The ships that remain are attempting to insinuate themselves into the beam, so that it won't be able to pull all of them at once. That may weaken it enough so that we can break free . . ."
"That's not going to be enough mass," Solo shot back. "Look at the size of that thing, you'd have to bounce of a planet or . . ." He stopped speaking for a second, his eyes staring into the distance. "Or . . . wait."
He erupted into motion, sliding around the side of the Comout and standing so that his back was to the window. "Listen, all right, listen . . ." The angle of the Star Destroyer's tip was a dagger pointed right at his head. "Can you pull the ship to the side? Tell everyone that can get into the beam to drift sideways?" He staggered a bit as the spacecraft shuddered, putting his arms out to maintain his balance, his back thumping against the window.
"Your point arrives elusively."
"Just tell them, all right? I think . . ." he turned to stare out the window, looking down. "Yeah, we're almost in line and they probably aren't realizing it but . . ." seeing that everyone was staring at him, he said, "You guys, the port! It's right below us, if the ships can get the beam in line with it, the damn thing might try to drag it with us."
"It would cause too much strain and the projector would burn out," the Insepton mused. "It's workable."
"If it does drag the port though, wouldn't it just crash into us, then?" Logan pointed out.
Solo gave him a look. "Aren't we a ray of sunshine? No wonder why you travel alone." Turning back to Par'ganthra he said, "No, tell everyone to start pulling toward the port. It's a risk worth taking."
"Allsready in transit." The ship's structure groaned as if awakening from a restless sleep. Nothing was between them and the Star Destroyer and it still dominated the view head. Still, Solo thought he detected a slackening of their pace toward the giant ship, unless his eyes were playing tricks on him.
"And if this doesn't work?" Logan tore his gaze away from the slow silent drama outside to glance at Solo. "What, then?"
Solo tapped his laser. "Then we've got a hell of a fight on our hands. You might get your wish yet today."
Logan only snorted and turned back to the window, although the ghost of a smile might have appeared in his pale reflection. His fingers curled against the glass, tapping quietly.
Meanwhile the Insepton was leaning up against the console, conferring with Par'ganthra. "If you divert more power from here to the engines . . ." The lighting inside the ship, already dim, darkened even further. "Yes, we're drifting a few degrees now, tell everyone to keep pulling."
"Power is already maxated," the Comout said, sounding a bit miffed. "But it can be tried to excrease into limitations." He spoke into the console, pressing at some buttons.
Logan had turned toward the back of the ship, his face expressing curiosity. "It sounds like it but is that the engines . . ." He might have been talking to himself.
Par'ganthra spoke again, the edges of his voice rising in what might have been a question. No response seemed to be coming from that portion of the ship.
"No, it's out of synch with the engines, it's not-"
There was a cluttered scream from the rear of the ship. Everyone immediately turned, the frantic motion at the bridge suddenly halting. The sound staggered on for a few seconds before a mad scrabbling and scratching was heard.
I don't have a good feeling about this, Solo thought.
A textured shadow emerged from the back corridor, a Comout flailing forward. It babbled something in a compressed speech before jerking spasmodically and slumping to the floor. A slickness gradually started to spread from under where it had fallen and even across the room Solo could see the massive wound carved into its chest, an elongated hole that started in the center and worked its way outward. Part of its arm was missing as well.
"Everyone get back!" Logan shouted, even as he started to move forward. "Now!"
"And what exactly," a new voice said, draped in coiled reverb, "is that going to do?" A man detached itself from the shadows that hadn't been there a moment before, the glow of two slitted eyes staring back at them. A cape whispered against the floor as the bridge was drenched in a sickly green light.
From behind his sword, the Dark Rider regarded them. "Other than make this much easier than it already is?"
