Chapter Eleven: Heist

Now:

It was Rama's first cargo run in the Kwymar Sector. The former Republic Navy petty officer had three planets and one station to visit, and he was already three hours behind schedule. He was going to be in trouble with his superior officer, and most likely written up. Could the day get any worse?

A light on his console began blinking. "We're getting a message," Raik, his co-pilot, said. "Looks like a distress call."

"Punch it up," Rama said.

The audio message crackled, then a female voice cut through the static.

"Please, you have to help me!" the woman in the message said. "I've run out of fuel, and my life support is failing! I'm all alone out here! Please help me!"

Rama and Raik looked at each other. "Sounds like she's in real trouble," Rama said. He checked his chrono. "I guess one little detour won't hurt."

Raik nodded. "We can always blame helping a citizen of the Republic is why we're so late." He reached over and replied to the message, stating they were on their way to assist. The woman sounded ever-so-grateful, and responded with her coordinates.

When they reached her vessel and docked, they were expecting to open their door and discover a beautiful woman in complete disarray, thankful someone heard her call for help.

They weren't expecting a sandy-haired man pointing a blaster to their heads.

"Surprise," the man smiled. Rama and Raik froze. "Now be good Republic workers and drop your blasters, then show me where you keep your kolto."

"How many crates we talkin'?"

The sandy-haired man raised his wrist communicator to his face. "I'm countin' forty-five," he answered. "And if I'm doin' the math correctly, I'll never doubt your natural charm again."

Rama lifted another heavy crate. He glared at the man. "You pirates are only in this for the credits," he said between painful grunts. "You're robbin' people of their health. The Outer Rim planets need these supplies. Without them people could die and—"

The man waved his blaster. "Less talk, more work."

"What do you plan on doing with all this kolto?" Rama asked.

"What do you plan on doing if I blast you?"

Rama said nothing. Instead he slowly shuffled his feet and carried the kolto container towards the airlock. As he stepped on board the pirate's ship, Rama saw a petite woman standing there. "That was a low trick you pulled," he said, "preying on the help of others. I hope you do get stranded out here one of these days, and no one hears your call."

The woman remained stoic as he stacked the crate on top of another one.

Rama turned back towards her and frowned. Something about this woman looked familiar. Her hair, her face, her stance… "Don't I know you?" he asked. "You look familiar…"

She glared. "Move the crates."

Suddenly Rama knew where he'd seen her. "I saw you on that Rakata planet… what do they call it, Lehon?" he continued. Rama remembered her standing up with the Jedi. She was part of the strike team, wasn't she? What was she doing here? "During the celebration after the Star Forge was destroyed. I know I saw you standing up with Admiral Dodonna. I used to serve with her on board the—"

She pointed her blaster at him and looked him dead in the eye. "You've mistaken me for someone else. Shut up and move the crates."

Rama stood motionless for a few seconds. Things started to get blurry, and he felt a sharp pain on the side of his head, like he had just been hit. He held the side of his head and winced in pain. What… what had just happened? He looked up and saw a blurry image of a woman standing in front of him. What the hell was going on? He opened his mouth to ask the woman what had just happened when he felt someone nudge him. Rama turned to see Raik standing there with a crate of kolto in his arms. "Come on," Raik said. "Don't make these two angry. We got more crates to bring over."

"More crates?" Rama asked, holding the side of his head.

"Yeah, they want them all. Where the hell've you been?"

"I… I don't know."

"Pretending to be stupid ain't gettin' us outta this," Raik snorted. "C'mon. Help me before they shoot us."

As Rama helped Raik bring the rest of the crates of kolto to the other vessel's cargo hold, he wondered why he was doing so. But with the petite woman and the sandy-haired man pointing blasters at him and Raik, he decided it best not to ask. As they finished bringing the last crate over, the petite woman escorted them back to their own ship. The sandy-haired man smiled, gestured for them to stand in the middle of the cargo hold, then began walking backwards towards the other vessel. "Thank you for your kindness, gentlemen," he said. "I really appreciate all your hard work."

"Thieving pirate," Raik spat.

The man smiled and winked. "Why, thank you."

As Gambit flew away from the kolto-less Republic cargo vessel, Nal looked at his partner. "I will admit, your plan was good. Not what I would have done, but still… that was good. And congratulations on your wonderful performance as a damsel in distress."

Liana smiled as she clicked away at the computer interface in front of her. "Thank you."

"Although I doubt you've ever been helpless."

"Whatever makes you think that?" she asked.

Nal snorted. He nodded towards the computer. "What are you doing?"

"While you were greeting those pilots, I sliced into their ship's mainframe," she said, clicking a few more buttons. Liana sat back and smiled. "Consider their ship's memory frame wiped of all knowledge of us and the ship. No one will be able to trace my slice or be able place us at the scene of the crime."

Nal paused for a few seconds. He raised an eyebrow. "You're… you're good."

"Thank you."

As Gambit jumped into hyperspace, Nal asked, "So what was all that back there about a Racket planet? I could hear you two talkin' through the wrist comm."

That man knew who I was, Liana thought. Maybe not my name, but he was certain he'd seen me before. I could feel it. If Nal ever discovers who I really am, this could all go downhill real fast. "Haven't a clue," she said instead. "Probably a ploy to catch me off guard."

"What, did he think you were a member of the Republic?"

"I don't know what he thought," she said. Liana checked the navigation computer, and began to mentally calculate the time it would take to get back to Nar Shaddaa from their current location.

"So how did you get into smuggling?" Nal asked. "You never told me."

Liana had three choices. One, tell Nal it was none of his business. Two, tell a lie. Three, tell him what the Jedi Council had programmed her to believe. She chose option three—at least the 'facts' would be straight.

"Started when I was a teenager," she said. "Fell into it by accident. Or on purpose, I still don't know. My parents died when I was young, I had nowhere to go, and I needed to survive. I was good at repairing droids and hyperdrives, and got a job on a ship. Now I'm here."

"What kinds of jobs did you do?" Nal asked.

"I didn't do jobs, per se, when I was a kid," she answered. "I always played the role of the bait. As I grew older, I grew bolder." Liana turned to Nal. "And now I'm here helping you cart kolto back to Wayt."

"What happened to your last partner?"

According to her false memories, she and her partner had a fall-out. Broke with no ship and no love for the Sith, she had agreed to work as a freelancer for the Republic and the Jedi, which had placed her on the Endar Spire… but she couldn't tell Nal that. "Dead, I guess," she said instead.

"You guess?"

"He was captured by the Sith," she lied. "And no, I don't want to discuss it any further." Hopefully that would make Nal stop asking questions.

Nal nodded. "I understand. Sorry for your loss." He paused, then asked, "Is he the one who gave you that necklace?"

Liana touched the stone.

"Telosian Blue Diamond is a stone of love, isn't it?" he asked.

"I said I don't want to discuss it!" she snapped.

Nal said nothing more on the subject. "We'll be on Nar Shaddaa sometime tomorrow," he said instead. "Get comfy and relax. I'll send a message to Wayt saying we're on our way."

"A message?"

"It's what the man likes," Nal said. "And seeing we're getting five per, it's only polite."

Wayt was enjoying the company of his two Twi'lek slave girls when his second-in-command Gred, a tall, dark-haired man, entered the room. Wayt screamed several expletives and demanded to know the purpose behind the interruption.

"Nal Simer," Gred said. "He and that chick sent a message saying they got your kolto and are comin' this way. Should be here sometime tomorrow. You said you wanted to know the minute we heard from them."

Wayt got out of bed and grabbed a robe. "Good," he said, donning the robe and tying it closed around his waist. "Send them a message back to land at my personal landing dock to make it easier to unload the kolto." Gred nodded. Wayt walked over to his second. In a hushed voice, he said, "Then grab the guards and plan to meet them when they land." His eyes narrowed. "That kriffing schutta managed to weasel five-hundred credits per crate outta me. Don't know how she did it, but she did. And I don't like it. Make it top priority that they receive nothing for their work."

"Ambush?" he asked.

"No," Wayt said. "Wait until the kolto is off his ship and safely in my storage hall. Then make it known they aren't getting paid. By force, if necessary. And also make it known that I won't shed any tears if there's spilled blood. If Simer plans on keeping her around, this is the last job he ever does for me. That girl's nothing but trouble."

"If they fight?"

Wayt grinned. "Feel free to get… creative."

Gred nodded. "It will be my pleasure, Sir."