Chapter 11 Belly of the Beast
Orto System, Sluis Sector, Outer Rim.
Captain Homanlif stood at the main tactical holoprojector and watched the hologram of the frigid world below rotate. At certain points, the hologram pointed out points of tactical interest, though there were too few to be of any importance. He keyed in a command for the projector to zoom in on the area that they had lost contact with the mysterious freighter. The area of the capital city didn't look any different from the rest of the dreary capital. Homanlif knew that either the crew of the freighter had discovered the tracking beacon, or the ship had passed through a jamming field. Either way, they had lost direct contact with the ship. He had his entire scanning crew constantly monitoring all outgoing vessels in the event that the ship tried to leave, but in the mean time, Homanlif was wondering just what it was with this planet that would be of interest to insurgents.
Orto itself held no strategic value, nor did it have any major source of income for traders. In fact, the only thing the planet was known for was its indigenous species, the Ortolans. They themselves were known for often becoming musicians that were sought after for their talents.
To make it even more puzzling was the fact that Orto was heavily garrisoned by the Empire. Insurgent forces would be insane to think that they could have a major base of operations right under the Empire's nose. If someone believed that were possible, they probably also believed that the Separatist movement was orchestrated from Coruscant.
"Sir!" one of the junior officers said as he stood from his monitoring station. "We have them!" Homanlif nodded and walked towards the main projector and nodded to the young officer to bring the image onto the screen. When the image appeared, Homanlif smiled to himself. He had them!
"Lock on to their position and set an intercept course. As soon as they are in tractor beam range, get them. Now we'll learn just what they were doing here," Homanlif said as he continued to watch the holo-image of the Corellian freighter leaving the planet's atmosphere.
Morthiath flipped his transceiver's signal modulator for the hundredth time and cursed aloud at loosing his prey. How did they find the beacon? Surely his prey was not that lucky? With an angry snap, Morthiath turned off his transceiver and tapped his trigger finger on the armrest of his chair as he thought.
It was impossible for his prey to have discovered the beacon, conducted their business, and already be away from this system through hyperspace. He knew that they must still be in the general area, so he turned on his scanners and started to look for the Corellian freighter. It wasn't long until he found the particular ship he was looking for, mainly because Orto had so little traffic to begin with.
Morthiath fired up his engines and pushed the throttle forward. Before, he was leery of attacking his prey in plain sight of the Imperials, but now he had little choice. If the freighter was able to escape again, his chances of locating them in the galaxy were nil. The Black Death roared to life as he quickly exited the field of space debris and headed towards his enemy ship.
The Destrier passed through the last portion of Orto's atmosphere and entered the pure black of space. Randal was leaning back in his pilot's chair, keying in the destination for the navicomputer. As he was doing this, Rika was keeping herself occupied by looking at the different ships that were still orbiting Orto. The large Venator star destroyer was still there, but the large bulk freighter that it had detained earlier was now gone.
Rika moved her gaze along until she came to rest on the triangular shape of an Acclamator assault ship. For a moment she started to remember fighting alongside clone troopers as those ships descended from above, but instantly those old thoughts were replaced by a more alarming one.
"Randal, do you remember an Acclamator ship in orbit when we arrived?"
"No," Randal said as he shook his head as he continued to look at the navicomputer readout. "That was back on Coruscant. Why?" When he finally looked up, he saw the large triangular assault ship heading directly towards them.
Randal cursed to himself and jumped up in his seat. Though the Acclamator ships, and all government ships for that matter, shared the exact same paint scheme, he knew that this was the same ship they saw on Coruscant.
"What do we do now?" Rika asked, obviously coming to the same conclusion that Randal did.
"Well, we could either cut and run and obviously look suspicious, or just keep cruising along. It may be nothing…" But just as Randal was going to finish his sentence, the Destrier jarred violently as she was ensnared in the capital ship's tractor beam.
"Fierfek!" Randal yelled as he pushed the throttle to full. Though the engines roared to life, the Destrier only continued to shake violently in her spot. Randal flipped a few switches and moved a few levers, but nothing seemed to be helping his ship. With the engines struggling against the heavy strain, warning klaxons began to sound. Randal let out a loud explicative and shut down the engines.
As the Destrier was slowly brought towards the main and only hangar bay of the larger ship, both Randal and Rika sat in utter silence. Rika shook her head in frustration, and then broke the silence that reigned within the durasteel walls.
"So what's the plan?"
"Plan? What plan?" Randal said as he folded his arms angrily. Rika sighed, and then looked around the cockpit for something to give her an idea.
"We can't just give up that easily. We have to think of something, now come on!"
"They've got us fully locked in with their tractor beam. Even if I pushed out every bit of juice the Destrier's got, we'd still be stuck here. I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but they've got us." Rika's gaze fell on Randal and she gave him a stern look.
"What sort of talk is that? One little snag and you're ready to just give up? I thought the Great Randal Sarn had hundreds of tricks up his sleeve to outsmart the Empire. Well, if you do, now would be the time for it!"
"Look, no one likes to go in guns blazing more than this guy, but one blaster and a lightsaber up against an entire ship's worth of fully armored clones ain't my kind of odds; it's more like suicide."
"Well there has to be something we can do besides sit here and argue."
Randal sighed but didn't continue to argue with her. For a moment, he just sat there, but he then stood up from his chair and started to head out of the cockpit. As he walked away, Rika shook her head at his stubborn nature and was about to lean back in her chair when Randal stuck his head back inside the cockpit.
"Well, you coming Sweetheart, or am I taking on the Empire by myself?" Rika jumped up from her seat and followed Randal into the main lounge area. Randal leaned against the holotable and ran his hand over his mouth before he spoke.
"All right. They're going to take us and probably put us in the brig. Hopefully the design of those things hasn't changed since the last time I was in one." Rika raised an eyebrow at him, but he shook the question off and continued. "You should be able to activate the controls with the Force and lower the energy shield to get us out. Then we can get our weapons back." At this point, he looked at Rika and lightly shrugged his shoulders.
"For this to work, you're going to have to give me your lightsaber."
"Why?" she asked as she reached for the weapon in her jacket pocket.
"Because that weapon is a dead give away that you're a Jedi. Don't worry; I've got several smuggling compartments in this ship that we can hide it in. Everything short of a scanning team won't be able to find it." Rika reluctantly nodded and handed the weapon over to Randal. Randal then walked over to the nearest bulkhead and hit a seemingly indiscernible section of the wall. A small compartment opened up, and he placed the cylindrical weapon inside. When the compartment door was closed, it blended in with the bulkhead perfectly. Randal then opened a regular locker and retrieved a blaster in a holster belt and handed it to Rika. She placed the belt around her waste and tightened the belt, though it still hung loosely on her slender frame.
"Okay. Now that gets us out of the brig, but the hardest part will be getting back to the ship."
"What about the tractor beam?" Rika asked. Geefive then beeped his input into the conversation.
"Don't worry about that, Geefive will take care of it. Once we get back into the Destrier, we're going to have to make a mad dash for hyperspace. Hopefully they don't blow us into smithereens by then." Rika nodded, but caught a major flaw in Randal's last minute plan.
"But wait, Republic procedure was to place a restraining bolt on droids whenever a hostile was encountered. I'm sure the Empire uses the same procedures." Geefive twittered a sarcastic sounding tone, and Randal smirked widely.
"Well, a restraining bolt effects a regular droid's internal routing system. But let's just say that Geefive isn't your normal droid. Come on; let's get ready to greet our new hosts."
Morthiath was about to bring his weapon systems online when he saw the Destrier get snagged by an Acclamator's tractor beam. Morthiath let out a curse in his native Zabrak at his misfortune with this particular hunt. So far, this hunt had caused him nothing but trouble. First, his targets were never together, and then when they were, the piloting skills of Randal Sarn had kept Morthiath from getting his kill. Then, when he thought he had the upper hand by getting a tracking beacon on Sarn's ship, he looses track of him on an Imperial controlled planet. Now, when he thought he finally had him where he wanted him, the bastards go and get captured by an Imperial ship! Now there was no telling where his targets would go!
Morthiath briefly thought about simply abandoning this hunt, but his sense of honor only made this option seem viable for a fraction of a second. Instead, he knew that he had to somehow follow this Imperial ship to wherever it took his targets. From there, he could continue his hunt and possibly strike when the opportunity presented itself.
The Black Death was a highly modified ship, and one of its many features was a top of the line signal jammer. Morthiath engaged this as he casually brought his ship along side of the large Acclamator, and then maneuvered his ship to be only a meter off of the hull above the engine. With the flick of a few switches, his magnetic grappling hook engaged, and he was anchored to the hull of the large Imperial ship. Morthiath disengaged the engines and shut down the primary power to hide his energy signature. The only things he kept up and running were his life support systems and his signal jammer. Once the sounds of the Black Death passed away, Morthiath settled in his chair and again played the waiting game.
As Randal and Rika got ready to assume non-threatening positions near the landing ramp, the Destrier entered the Acclamator's docking bay. As the Destrier automatically lowered her landing gear, the tractor beam set the ship down in the docking bay, and then engaged the magnetic field that kept the atmosphere inside the bay. Stormtroopers then poured out from the blast doors and took up position outside of the freighter, all of their large DC-15 rifles aimed at the ship.
From inside, the entry hatch opened, and the ramp extended out. A stormtrooper sergeant stepped forward and called into the ship.
"Come out with your hands up!" There was a brief moment of silence before two sets of hands became visible in the hatch, followed by the two occupants. When Randal and Rika began to slowly walk down the ramp, all of the blaster rifles followed them.
"Hands on your head," the sergeant barked. When Randal and Rika complied, he nodded towards another clone that then holstered his weapon and approached the two captives. Quickly, and none too gently, the trooper removed their blasters and then frisked them for any other weapons. When he found none, he nodded to the sergeant.
"Take them to the brig," the sergeant said as he motioned with one finger. The clone pushed the two forward, but Randal protested.
"Hey, just what is this all about? We haven't done anything!"
"You can take it up with the Captain when he interrogates you," was all the sergeant said before he motioned for his squad to enter the ship for a sweep. As Randal and Rika were led to the detention area, the stormtroopers inside the ship marched through the circular corridors and found R3-G5 hiding in his storage locker.
"Sir, we've located an astromech droid," one of the troopers called out to the sergeant. The sergeant entered the ship and gave the droid a once over glance before he made his decision.
"Fit him with a restraining bolt and take him to droid maintenance. He might have information that the Captain can use."
"Yes sir!" In an instant, a restraining bolt was applied to Geefive's exterior frame. And though it really had no effect on him, Geefive played his part and instantly entered into his neutral standing position.
"Come along," the trooper said to Geefive before he turned to walk out of the ship. Geefive extended his third wheel and simply followed the trooper, just like a well-mannered restrained droid should. The sergeant watched as the droid followed the trooper out of the ship, and then he turned to the remaining clones.
"Continue your search of the ship. Make sure you download the ship's flight records."
As Randal and Rika were led to the brig, Randal made a note of every turn and level that they were sent on. When they finally entered the brig, a stormtrooper went to stand by the control station while another pushed Randal and Rika into the one of the cells. Before they could catch their balance, the control switch was flipped, and the radiating red force field engaged, trapping them inside. Once they were secured inside their holding cell, the troopers began to leave the room, but not before the clone placed the two blaster pistols in a holding box next to the control station.
When the stormtroopers left, Randal looked around the cell and was about to speak, but the hydraulic door to the detention center opened, and a gray uniformed man in his mid forties entered, all the while keeping a smug look on his face. He stood in front of the cell for a good time without speaking, only looking in on the two as if they were some sort of zoo exhibit.
"According to your ship's registration, your name is Captain Sarn," the Imperial Officer said in his smug voice.
"That's right. And what do they call you, besides Captain Jack-Ass?" Randal said as he leaned on the cell wall.
"Charming," The Officer said as he narrowed his eyes into slits. "I am Captain Homanlif. And who are you? An Insurgent contact?" Captain Homanlif said as he looked at Rika.
"What? No, I'm his co-pilot, Mar'la," Rika said as she stared at the Captain. Homanlif raised a brow high onto his forehead and lightly smirked.
"Co-pilot? Indeed. Now, tell me what I want to know and you can save yourself a lot of trouble and pain. Refuse, and I promise that I'll make you regret not taking this offer."
"Just what in the slimy side of a Hutt are you talking about? You pulled my ship in, unprovoked, and now you're threatening us with torture? I thought the Republic was bad, but this is ridiculous!" Randal yelled through the red containment field.
"Don't play naive with me, Captain. I know full well what you're doing."
"Well then tell me, because I'm pretty much in the dark here," Randal said as he crossed his arms. Captain Homanlif smirked and began to walk slowly back and forth in front of the cell as he spoke.
"You are in alliance with rogue senators who are plotting terrorist activities against the Empire. You were seen speaking with a senator on Coruscant, and then you came here to Orto. Why? What did this senator want with this frozen waste of a planet? Were you making contact with one of his agents? Or were you dropping off orders to a sleeper cell? Tell me!" Randal stared blankly back at Homanlif for a moment before he shook his head.
"Listen, I don't know what you've been drinking, but you really need to lay off of it. It's making your brain go soft," Randal said as he tapped the side of his head. Homanlif stared at Randal for a moment as he snarled his lips. But instead of arguing further, he stood tall and pulled at the bottom of his gray tunic.
"Fine. Have it your way, Captain Sarn. But let me assure you that the Interrogation Division on Coruscant will make the worst pain you've ever experienced seem like a walk in the pleasure district." With this, Captain Homanlif turned and began to exit the room.
"The worst pain I've experienced happened to be in the pleasure district!" Randal called out to the Captain as the hydraulic doors shut. Randal shook his head, and then turned to Rika.
"All right, we don't have much time before this ship goes into hyperspace. We've got to be off of here before that. Okay, flip the switch." Rika nodded her head, and closed her eyes as she called on the Force.
She took several deep breaths, and then extended her hand towards the control panel and the simple lever that would deactivate the containment field. As she strained to concentrate, Randal leaned on the wall and watched her struggle with a concerned look on his face.
He had seen several Jedi through his years as a traveler, not too many of them, but enough to get an idea of the type of powers they had. From what he could remember, a simple trick like this wouldn't require much effort at all. But Rika was struggling as if she were trying to move an entire planet. He had noticed that their game of Darnek had taken a toll on her, but he had thought that maybe that was just normal strain for a Jedi. But now, as he watched her, he finally noticed that she had some sort of problem connecting to the Force; not that Randal was an expert on the subject though.
As Rika concentrated on the switch, sweat began to appear on her brow. Her extended arm began to shake, and her breathing was becoming more labored. The switch on the control panel began to shake slightly, and then with a sudden swift motion, it fell to the off position and the hazy red containment field fell. Rika then let out a large breath, and nearly tumbled over on herself. Randal caught her and helped her back up.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said, brushing his helping arms away.
"No you're not. Look, I've seen Jedi in action before, and that sort of trick wouldn't make them that winded, not by a long shot." Rika looked at Randal and then let out a sigh.
"All right. I've been having trouble calling on the Force. It started while I was escaping from Guannk and it only seems to be getting worse as time goes on. But there's no time to worry about that now, let's get off of this ship." Randal nodded, and after retrieving the two blaster pistols from the storage box, they went to the hydraulic door and tried to open it at the push button. But instead of opening, the door simply stood firm.
Randal sighed, and opened an access panel near the door controls and started to pull out wires that were inside. After he spliced a few together, the connection sparked and the door opened. He quickly drew his blaster from its holster, and with a nod to Rika to do the same, he took out into the corridor as silently, yet as quickly, as he could.
The clone trooper nodded once to the EV-Series Supervisor Droid who was in charge of the droid maintenance department, and then left the large cluttered room. Geefive swiveled his ocular receptor ever so slightly to watch the trooper leave. When he was sure that the clone was gone, he turned his focus onto the Supervisor Droid, who was now walking towards him with a large box of standard tools.
"Well now, my little friend. Let's see what secrets you're trying to hide from the Empire," the Supervisor droid said in its electronically resonating voice. Geefive focused on the large data extractor probe in its hand and began to shuffle backwards. The tool was known for being quite brutal, even erasing more of a droid's "non-essential" programming in order to extract the information that it wanted. Droids who had undergone this form of data extraction were often left empty and hollow, as if their very electronic souls were erased. If fear were possible for a droid to feel, Geefive was dripping it like yesterday's old lubricant.
The Supervisor droid must have been able to sense Geefive's discomfort, so it reached for the control module to send a jolt to Geefive's motor impulse unit to make him stay still. But to the Supervisor droid's surprise, Geefive kept moving. The droid hit the button a few more times, and when its internal thought algorithms figured out what was going on, it was too late.
From out of two panels atop Geefive's dome, twin blaster pistols mounted to telescopic arms emerged and fired a quick salvo into the Supervisor droid, sending only sparking charred debris into the far bulkhead.
Geefive twittered a colorful insult at the remains of the Supervisor droid and extended his third wheel. With a quick motion, his twin blasters retracted into their compartments and he was off back to the Destrier.
Morthiath looked out of the canopy on the Black Death and watched as the enormous triangular shaped Venator-Class star destroyer pulled alongside the Acclamator that he was attached to. Briefly, Morthiath became nervous that someone might see his ship attached to the hull of the assault ship, but he brushed the thought away. For someone to see his ship attached in this way, they would have to be specifically looking for him. Space was much too large for someone to just accidentally see a ship like the Black Death attached to another, much larger ship in this fashion. The V-Wing starfighters that were patrolling around the Venator might have a better chance at spotting him, but pilot's eyes were usually focused on their direct path, or watching the screens of their sensors. The Black Death was still running the signal jammer, so the only way for the pilots to find him was to actually spot him on the other's hull. While this was always a possibility, Morthiath put this thought out of his mind.
The Venator slowed and matched the speed of the Acclamator, staying several hundred meters off of the port side. Morthiath reclined back in his pilot's chair, and thought about his predicament. Sarn and the Jedi were prisoners now; there was no getting around that. But, Morthiath knew that if he tagged along and waited for the two to be transferred to another ship, he could strike then. Hopefully, with his skills, he could get the drop on them and still make it into hyperspace before the Imperials could do anything about it.
But was this star destroyer going to take the prisoners out of the system, or was the assault ship going to do this? This question racked Morthiath's mind, so much so that he gave in and decided that he had to find an answer.
Still keeping his signal jammer up and running, Morthiath engaged another one of the special features of his ship; a holo-transceiver splicer. With this, Morthiath could listen in on holographic transmissions. While the tool worked, its major drawback was that for it to work, one had to be very close to one of the recipients. In Morthiath's case, he was just close enough to pick up the signal coming from the Acclamator. However, with his signal jammer still operative, the signal was coming in with erratic patterns.
"This is Captain … of the… What brings you to…?"
"… Homanlif. I… tracked prisoners… escorting them back to… questioning."
"Very well. It's good… scum like that…death."
The signal then stopped, so whatever pleasantries the two Captains were exchanging must have come to an end. Morthiath turned off his splicer probe and let out an annoyed sigh. This hunt was taking far too long and was wasting his time.
Randal paused when he came to a turn and looked around the corner. So far, they had been lucky that they hadn't run into any patrols or wandering officers, but they still couldn't be careless. Down the corridor was more empty space, so Randal gave a sign to move on and started to make his way down the path.
But as soon as he started, a door along the right hand side opened, and a stormtrooper emerged.
"Halt!" the stormtrooper yelled as he brought his blaster pistol up, but before he had a chance to use it, Randal fired a blast that hit him square in the helmet. The stormtrooper fell backwards and hit the deck like a ton of permacrete. From behind the now dead trooper, more of his brethren began to fire, and one of them set off the alarm.
Randal cursed loudly as both he and Rika opened fire blindly and started to run down the corridor as blaster fire raced passed them. The duo ducked down the nearest off branching hallway and used the wall as cover.
"Great! They've got us pinned here. You wouldn't happen to know of any other way to the hangar, would you?" Randal yelled as he fired blindly around the corner back at the stormtroopers.
"I think we can get there by going this way!" Rika yelled over the constant blaster fire. Rika then took the lead and began to run down the open corridor, while Randal followed and kept his blaster pistol aimed backwards. Rika indeed did know of several different paths to get to the hangar bay, after all, she had been on a number of Acclamator ships during the war. She now only hoped that this particular path was a quick one.
Geefive continued to roll down the corridor as an alarm klaxon began to sound, and stormtroopers from all over began to pour out and run towards the stern end of the ship. Since Geefive was simply a droid in their eyes, they paid him no mind. In fact, Geefive was able to make it back to the hangar bay with no problems. He then rolled over to the large tractor beam emitter that sat on the far end of the hangar bay from the Destrier and found the computer access terminal.
With a simple flick, his computer uplink module was out, and was accessing the files necessary to take the tractor beam offline. It would have worked, if not for one small problem.
"What's that droid doing here? I ordered you to take it to droid maintenance." Geefive's rear ocular receptor caught sight of the stormtrooper sergeant as he berated a lower ranking trooper. Within moments, the team of four stormtroopers was making their way over to him. Geefive's complex thought matrices and algorithms analyzed the amount of time it would take to bring the tractor beam offline compared to how long it would take before the troopers opened fire. There would be a 3.6754 second difference, in the stormtroopers' favor.
Geefive removed his uplink module and turned around to face the troopers. The four-man team spread out, and cut off any escape route that Geefive might have taken.
"This droid was trying to shut down the tractor beam. Treat it as a hostile," the sergeant said. The four stormtroopers then leveled their blaster rifles at the droid, but the little astromech did something that they weren't expecting.
In a quick pop of blue energy, a spherical energy shield expanded outwards from Geefive, surrounding him in a protective bubble. His two blaster pistols emerged from their hidden compartment, and began to fire at the four troopers.
"He's got a shield!" one of the troopers yelled before he was cut down. The remaining three began to fire at Geefive, but their blaster bolts merely ricocheted off of his shield bubble. With computer accurate precision, Geefive continued to fire and cut down the remaining three. While making a satisfied hum at his performance, Geefive turned back to the computer terminal, but was interrupted by more blaster fire coming from a distant corridor.
When he turned to look, he saw both Randal and Rika running from the aforementioned corridor, making a mad dash for the Destrier.
"Come on! Let's get off of this rust bucket!" Randal yelled. Geefive was about to say that he hadn't brought the tractor beam offline yet, but the dozen stormtroopers that poured out of the same corridor with their blaster rifles firing convinced him that it could wait.
When Randal and Rika made it to the entry ramp of the Destrier, they took cover behind the ship's bulkheads and fired back at the Troopers. Geefive rolled directly into their line of fire, and with his shield still up, began to fire wildly into the pack of stormtroopers, all the while rolling backwards into the ship. When Geefive passed the threshold, Randal closed the hatch and ran to the cockpit.
Geefive deactivated his bubble shield and followed close behind Rika as she ran to the cockpit as well. In the cockpit, Randal was busily bringing the ship online, while outside, the stormtroopers were taking up defensive positions around the ship.
"Destroyer droid shields?" Rika said as she sat down in the co-pilot's chair. Randal lightly shrugged as he continued to bring the systems online.
"Like I said, he's not your average astromech droid." When Geefive entered the cockpit, he busily whistled something to Randal, which made him pause as he was flipping switches.
"What did he say?" Rika asked.
"He wasn't able to turn off the tractor beam," Randal said as the engines began to whine to life.
"What!?!" Rika yelled as she jumped up in their seat.
"It's no problem. Look, you're going to have to man the top turret, okay? Their going to be sending fighters after us, I'm sure."
"But what about the tractor beam?"
"You let me worry about the tractor beam, just get on that top turret!" Rika let out a frustrated sigh, and jumped up from her seat. She ran down the small corridor to the main cabin, then climbed up the ladder to the top turret controls. She jumped in and turned on the targeting screen and then put on the headset and turned it on.
"I'm ready," she said.
"Good. Hold on, this is going to be a bumpy ride!" Randal exclaimed as the Destrier engaged her repulsor lift modules and lifted off of the deck.
From within the cockpit, Randal had slaved the bottom turret to fire forwards, activated by the thumb switches on the control yoke. As the Destrier lifted up into air, Randal took aim at the tractor beam emitter, and with two quick shots, the emitter exploded in a large display of ionic energy.
Randal quickly spun the Destrier around to face the magnetic field that was keeping the atmosphere in, and with another salvo of well aimed shots, took out the field emitters. When the field dropped, the atmosphere of the hangar exploded outwards, sending the stormtroopers unfortunate enough to be inside the hangar flying outwards into deep space. Large safety blast doors that were meant to be a safety device began to slam home over the now exposed hangar bay entrance, but before they closed, the Destrier rocketed out and into freedom.
Captain Homanlif stood on the bridge, watching the monitors that were showing his prisoners' escape, all the while a thick vein on his temple throbbing in anger.
"Get them back on this ship at all costs!" he yelled to his junior officers, who then silently nodded and began to order the artillery crews to open fire. Homanlif turned his attention to a holo display of the freighter trying to run, and waited to see his captives brought back to justice.
Randal pushed the throttle to full, but he knew that the V-Wing starfighters that were now in pursuit would easily gain on him. His navicomputer was busily recalculating the jump to the D'onva System, but he knew that it wouldn't calculate it fast enough. As if they were right on queue, the V-Wings strafed the Destrier, firing on the ship's deflector shields. Rika opened fire with the turret, but her shots missed.
To make matters worse, large blue bolts of turbolaser fire were now streaking past, threatening to knock the Destrier right out of space. The V-Wings were coming back around for another attack run, but this time Rika's shots were more accurate. One of the starfighters ignited into a large display of burning oxygen reserves and electronically hissing debris. The other V-Wings' fire hit the Destrier, but the deflector shield held.
The light on the navicomputer was still red, but Randal had a feeling that it would turn green any second. Or at least he hoped it did, because the turbolaser fire was now getting too close for comfort. As if his mere thoughts about it made it happen, one of the turbolaser shots hit the Destrier in her rear port side. The impact rocked the ship so violently that Randal nearly flew out of his chair. Sparks flew out from one of the control surfaces in the cockpit as electrical energy passed over the rear section of the ship. Buzzers and warning alarms began to sound inside the cockpit as the deflector shields were totally depleted. Randal quickly reached for the button to turn the alarms off and pressed the button for the communication transceiver.
"Rika, you still with me?"
"Yeah, but that last blast knocked the wind out of me."
Randal was about to tell her to get ready for another incoming strafing run, but the light on the navicomputer turned green. He smirked widely to himself and reached for the hyperdrive lever.
"Hold on, we're making the jump!" Randal quickly pulled the lever down, and the Destrier disappeared in a blinding flash of light.
Morthiath sat and watched in puzzlement as he saw the Venator break off and began to fire at something out of Morthiath's visual range. From the thrum of the Acclamator's engines that was reverberating through the magnetic docking claw, Morthiath could tell that the large assault ship was accelerating as well.
Several of the V-Wing fighters began to race past, pursuing a target that was still blocked from Morthiath's point of view. As Morthiath watched what he could, he had an unsettling feeling about just whom they were pursuing.
As if fate were mocking him, he caught a glimpse of the Destrier being pursued by the Imperial starfighters. Morthiath let out a curse in his native tongue, and frantically thought about what he should do next.
If he were to detach, he might have the possibility to intercept them, but he would be completely exposed to the Imperials, who would no doubt try and bring him in for questioning. He could fight them off, but the chances for one ship to take on two capital ships along with their fighters and survive were incalculable.
But before Morthiath could make his decision, the Destrier winked away in a flash as it entered hyperspace. Morthiath let out a frustrated yell as he watched his only chance at catching his prey slip through his fingers. As an after thought, he engaged his signal splicer to see if the Imperials had any sort of lead. Again the signal was static ridden, but he could make out just enough.
"How… to escape?"
"Doesn't matter. We… navicomputer coordinates. We… pursuing them…"
Morthiath recognized the two voices, and smirked widely at the mentioning of the navicomputer coordinates. If the Acclamator was going to pursue Sarn and the Jedi, then all Morthiath had to do was enjoy the ride. Once they reached this destination, he would then strike and claim his prize.
The Rapture followed Imperial procedure by dumping its trash, mainly the remnants of the tractor beam emitter, and then entered hyperspace, all the while unknowing that attached to her hull was a parasite taking a free ride.
Captain Homanlif stared blankly at the spot in empty space where the Corellian freighter had just whisked away into hyperspace. Without having that ship, he was going to have to answer too many questions about his actions. It might even be enough to have Admiral Phel bust him down to the rank of a Lieutenant. After all, his official orders were to escort Senator Organa from Alderaan to Coruscant. They said nothing about pursuing suspicious freighters across the galaxy. If he were able to bring in prisoners, then his actions would be justified, but now, without so much as a single captive, it seemed like only gross dereliction of duty.
As the Captain stared at the holodisplay panel, wondering about the future of his career, a junior officer came up to him and spoke.
"Sir, the search party reports that they found nothing suspicious aboard the freighter. However, they did download the history files from the navicomputer, and discovered a set of incomplete coordinates." Homanlif snapped his head around and looked the junior officer in the eye.
"How incomplete were they?" he asked firmly.
"We don't know their final destination yet, but technicians are working on that as we speak. What we do know is that they are heading for the Porlut Sector." Homanlif let a brief smile cross his lips before he nodded.
"Set course for the Porlut Sector. Inform me once the technicians have narrowed down the system." The junior officer nodded and turned to leave, just as the Communications Officer called out to the Captain.
"Sir, it's the Captain of the Sunderer." Homanlif let out an annoyed silent sigh and motioned for the nearest holodisplay. Captain Hoyt was proving to be more meddlesome and annoying than Homanlif could have expected. Homanlif stood tall as the holodisplay flickered to life and the likeness of Captain Hoyt appeared.
"How did they manage to escape?" Hoyt asked. Homanlif pursed his lips together and thought to himself that it wasn't any of Hoyt's business. In fact, if Hoyt's gunner crews had been any more accurate, they might have destroyed the small freighter.
"Doesn't matter," Homanlif said dismissively. "We have their navicomputer coordinates. We are beginning to pursue them now." Captain Hoyt was about to say something, but Homanlif gave the signal to end the transmission.
Homanlif watched a holodisplay of the forward view as his crew went about the standard procedures for entering hyperspace. Through his feet, he could feel the slight trembling as the garbage hatch opened and the debris was launched into space. Within moments, the Rapture's engines wined up to full power, and with an explosion of energy, the assault ship rocketed away and entered the alternate dimension known as hyperspace.