Chapter Twenty-One: Power Play
There were liners, and then there were luxury liners. The Star of Ithoria was surely one of the most luxurious. As part of the financing to rebuild the world of Ithor lost in the Yuuzhan Vong war, the old Galactic Federation of Free Alliances authorized the Ithorian refugees to charter a star liner firm.
The Ithorian Star Liner corporation proved so successful that the firm funded two Ithorian colonies and hundreds of years later was still considered the premier luxury cruiser line in the galaxy. It cost twenty thousand credits just for a single berth, with prices ranging as high as a hundred thousand credits for some suites.
The liners were considered absolutely safe from piracy because of one simple fact—Moff Hershied and her peers promised the swift destruction of any ship that touched them. After two early attempts in her first year as moff were dealt with brutally and publicly, the pirates accepted the sincerity of Hershied's message and left the liners alone.
It was therefore with a genuine sense of shock that Captain Jawalla heard a mild clang that was an Ithorian alarm going off. He strolled across the wide, spacious bridge to the control station, where the other Ithorian looked up with a puzzled angle to his visual ridge.
"What is the emergency?"
"Two ships have intercepted us," his second said. "They claim to be pirates. Both are Imperial—a frigate and a corvette. Heavily armed. The leader is on line."
The holoscreen resolved to a young human's face. The alien features as always made Jawalla faintly uncomfortable. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked in his native Ithorian. The computer instantly translated for him.
The young man smiled enough to show his white teeth. "I am the captain of the Destiny. At this moment we have twenty turbolaser batteries and fifty proton torpedoes aimed at your ship. I am aware of your shielding and weapons capabilities, but I believe this barrage would be more than enough to destroy you."
"What is it you hope to gain?" Jawalla said. "I carry an entire company of Imperial troopers as part of my security force. Any attempt to board would be repelled."
"Any attempt to stop me will end in your deaths," the young man said, no longer smiling. "Open your hangar doors. Do not close them until told other wise. I understand that you cannot command the troopers. I will deal with them personally. But I warn you now—if your ship moves one iota, I will blast you into vapor."
"If I cooperate?"
"Then you and your passengers go free when we have what we want." The human leaned back. "I am not your normal pirate, Captain. I'm not interested in bloodshed. Give me no excuse, and I will do you no harm."
"Very well," the captain said. As soon as the young human's image disappeared Jawalla turned to his second. "Inform the troopers that we have been accosted by pirates. Open the main hangar doors as they request, but do nothing else. I will let the troopers handle this."
A few minutes later, a single Imperial shuttle flew into the hangar bay of the Star of Ithoria. Not surprisingly, two hundred Imperial troopers stood in a box-formation around the shuttle with armaments ranging from their powerful blaster gauntlets to anti-ship missiles and shoulder-mounted laser cannons.
They fired on the shuttle the moment it entered the hangar. The shuttle's shields collapsed under the onslaught. The lower left of its three heat foils sheered off and the ship dropped to its left side against the plating of the bay as the troopers continued to fire.
They were oblivious to the figure in the space suit that slipped in through the containment shield of the open bay. The troopers continued firing frantically at the shuttle as the figure stripped off the space suit and hefted his two lightsabers.
Half an hour later, two more shuttles landed in the hangar and disgorged a hundred and fifty of Tobin S'Artin's crew. Tobin waited alone for them. The only sign of the battle in the hangar was carbon-scoring on the floor, and a pile of weapons in a corner that was quickly requisitioned by his crew.
Rather than rush the main levels of the ship, Tobin gathered Shindo and Haslo Bard on one side and the Frarks on the other and strode purposefully to the bridge while Krenth and the rest of his men secured the bay and armory.
Captain Jawalla had sealed the bridge against intrusion.
Tobin removed the seal and the door with two quick swipes of his lightsabers. When the doors slammed inward, he found the Ithorian command crew staring at him with…well, he felt their fear even if he could discern nothing from their odd-shaped heads.
"Captain Jawalla," Tobin said. "I am Captain Tobin S'Artin. Although I cannot say you've been entirely cooperative, you have at least not moved your ship or hindered my boarding actions. For this reason I will allow you and your crew to live. Do not make me reconsider.
The Ithorian second officer, seeing only five pirates compared to a command staff of fifty, reached for a weapon. Tobin reached out a hand and made a fist. The Ithorian gasped and lifted up from his chair. With a jerking motion, Tobin used the Force to throw the Ithorian with bone-crushing power against the far wall.
"An Abnormal," the Captain said, gasping.
"According to my history," Tobin said, "once upon a time the Ithorians revered the Jedi. How times have changed. Please request that all passengers report to the main ball room. State it is a fire drill. Again, cooperation ensures a minimum of bloodshed. In the meantime, you will turn off the power to all secured vaults."
Jawalla nodded, and the announcement was made. Tobin turned to the Bards. "Go through the vaults and gather any credit chips or valuables you can. Get a squad up here to take care of any more heroes. I'll go deal with the passengers."
They split up, and in half an hour Tobin S'Artin stood on the topmost balcony overlooking an interior ballroom that took up a good portion of the center of the ship's uppermost deck. An extravagant transparisteel dome spanned the entire length of the room, revealing the glory of a nearby nebula.
Beside him, Shandor hefted his weapons. "So we're here for jewelry?"
Tobin shook his head as he examined the frightened faces. "No, we're here for it all. The vaults hold the truly valuable items. What they are wearing is not a priority." He sighed. "Ready for the show?"
"Yes, sir," Shandor said with a tight grin. He turned and walked down three flights of stairs until he was on the ground level with the rest of his men.
Tobin stepped onto the balcony railing and waited until all eyes were on him, and then slipping into the Force floated gently down to the lower balcony. "Good afternoon," he said genially. "My name is Tobin S'Artin, captain of the pirate ship Destiny. We've seized control of this vessel. Unfortunately I did have to kill the company of troopers assigned here, but that was taken care of quickly."
The crowd mumbled. There were perhaps twelve hundred actual passengers, plus another two thousand crew members.
"So that I don't have to resort to opening fire or blowing the dome over your heads and killing you all instantly by decompression, I am going to call out a list of names. Those of you on this list will step forward. If you do not step forward, I will have my men shoot randomly into the crowd. First name: Hendt Reindel and family."
When Hendt Reindel was not immediately forth-coming, Tobin nodded to Kenth, who passed the word to his men. The pirate soldiers in trooper armor dropped to their knees and took aim into the line of people, much to the startled horror of the crowd. With Force-augmentation, Tobin called out, "There will only be two calls made for each name before we fire. Second call: Hendt Reindel and family."
A tall, aristocratic man stepped forward in formal evening clothes and a host of ribbons on his chest. His wife wore a shimmer-stone around her neck the size of a baby's fist. With them stood a little girl perhaps five or six years of age. Obviously a grandchild. "Over their please, Master Reindel," Tobin pointed.
Kenth waived jovially and the miffed passengers moved to stand beside him.
"Sana Fieliel."
This time the passenger named Fieliel did not hesitate. She was Omwati, with a head full of brightly colored red feathers, but otherwise very human in appearance. She stood beside Reindel.
"Askad Dekarta."
There was no moment. Tobin sighed. "Second call. Askad Dekarta."
The crowd started to fidget. "Lieutenant, open fire," Tobin called.
"Wait!" a desperate cry called out. "I'm coming!"
Dekarta was a true anomaly—a smart, well-spoken Gungan. Only his very large paunch seemed in character for his race. He strolled in his gangly Gungan fashion to the other three and then sat abruptly on the ground with a huff.
"The rest of you are to report to the escape pods," Tobin finished. "There are sufficient pods to hold all passengers and crew. Your captain will be left with an emergency transmitter which he can then use to summon aid. If you cooperate fully, we will leave the pods unharmed and you will survive. This liner is insured, and so all of you will be fully compensated for your losses. You cannot, however, be compensated for your deaths if you resist. Please choose your next course of action well."
The Ithorian captain strode to the front of the crowd. "All crew are to aid the passengers to the escape pods. Ensure all passengers are accounted for. Then the crew is to make its way to the staff pods."
The mixed crew of Ithorian and hired personnel snapped to attention and proceeded to guide the passengers toward the escape pods. The captain himself lingered. Tobin sighed and leapt easily over the balcony rail to the floor below and moved toward the captain. "Are you trying to be brave?"
The Ithorian said, "These people are under my care. I will not leave this ship until I see they are left unharmed."
"Should I shoot him?" Kenth asked. Tobin could sense the man's hesitancy. He knew that Shandor would shoot if ordered, but he wouldn't like it.
Tobin studied the creature for a moment before he shook his head. "There are far too few honorable creatures in the galaxy, Kenth. We need to cherish those we have, even if they are not on our side. Keep him with the others." He looked over his shoulder. "Silmari, please ensure that at least one pod is left and give the transmitter to one of the other pods."
The Devaronian female nodded and walked away.
"That is most generous of you," the Ithorian said.
"I only kill when I have to, Captain," Tobin said. "And given the choice, I would much rather not harm anyone. You've met your side of the bargain by cooperating. I'll do my part to assure you of my intentions. We want your ship, and we're taking it. But we have no desire for bloodshed."
The Ithorian had nothing to say.
~~The Last Jedi~~
~~The Last Jedi~~
"What is your intention with me and my family?" Hendt Reindel said.
Reindel, his wife Rala and their granddaughter Sheri sat in a luxury suite on board the Star of Ithoria. Sana Fieliel, Askad Dekarta, and the Ithorian Captain Hashalad Jawalla occupied various chairs in the suite.
Tobin met them with only Silmari at his side. He could see Dekarta briefly think of overpowering them, and then dismiss the idea.
Tobin walked across the floor toward Reindel, who stood. "Dr. Reindel, do you know what this is?" Tobin held up his ring, gripped between his fingers.
Reindel leaned over to study the ring for a moment before his eyes widened and he collapsed back into his seat. "Hendt, what is it?" his wife said as she clutched at him.
"It appears to be an Imperial signet ring," he finally said. "A very good reproduction."
Tobin tossed the ring to him. "You were on that list for only one reason, Master Reindel. You are one of five royal genealogists and the official keeper of the Fel family records. It was one of your ancestors who designed the Fel signet rings. Is it, or is it not, a genuine royal signet ring?"
Reindel looked to his wife, then back to the ring. Finally, he reached into his pocket and removed a palm-sized device.
"You mean to say he has an analyzer in his pocket?" the Gungan, Dekarta, said with a roll of his stalked eyes.
"He is the royal record keeper," Tobin explained, while keeping his eyes on Hendt Reindel. "He must be ready at all times to verify any record or claim."
The genealogist looked up from his analysis. "It is liquid polymer gold. It has the appropriate DNA imprint and switch. It is a genuine Royal signet ring."
The ring flew from his hands into Tobin's. "I wasn't a hundred percent sure myself," he admitted quietly to Silmari as he slowly slipped it on so all could see.
"That is not possible," Hendt said.
"Do you know who Sariah Solo Fel was?"
"She was the daughter of Emperor Soontir Solo Fel II. She died at an early age without issue."
"She did not die in the shuttle explosion, and she did have issue," Tobin said calmly. "You saw the markings on the ring. Each ring is marked with the initials of the issuer. The ring was issued by Soontir Fel II, in honor of his beloved daughter Sariah."
The Omwati woman, Sana Fieliel, snorted. "You mean this is all some outlandish claim to be royalty? You're abnormal. You can't be royal."
"Of course," Tobin said coolly, still staring at Reindel. "We all know there were never any Abnormals in the Fel Dynasty. At least not after Sariah."
"He's lying," Dakarta muttered.
Tobin shrugged. "You've done what I needed you to do," Tobin said. "You and your family are free to board the escape pod with the captain. I would highly recommend you not tell anyone of our meeting, though. The Emperor will murder anyone with knowledge of the Fel's abnormal markers. After all, he killed everyone with knowledge of his own daughter's midi-chlorian count."
"Those are very dangerous words you say," Reindel said with wide-eyes.
"And even more dangerous for you and your family to hear. I sincerely hope your wife and granddaughter can keep secrets." He nodded to Silmari, who motioned for the stricken Reindel family to follow her.
Tobin turned his attention to the rest of his guests.
"So, on to you two. I have a job for you both. It is going to be very, very lucrative to you if you accept."
Fieliel snorted. "And if we refuse?"
Tobin's smile would have made Darth Valus proud. "You won't refuse."
~~The Last Jedi~~
~~The Last Jedi~~
Dubrillion was a dead world. It was the site of one of the first battles of the great Yhuuzan Vong war, and served as an enemy base during much of the conflict. After the war ended, various factions tried to control the world, until the war between the Empire and the Galactic Alliance. In that last great spasm of destruction between Empire and Democracy, Dubrillion was pounded by Alliance Forces so thoroughly that no life remained, and the soil so thoroughly irradiated that no life could start anew for many generations to come.
So the Empire naturally turned it into a dumping ground. Decommissioned ships were literally dropped on the planet with just enough repulsor power to keep from splitting the crust. The great star destroyers of the past were dropped one-by-one onto the surface of the dead planet. The old Alliance Scythe-class battle cruisers were towed to the outer rim and dropped there as well. Radiation from old hyper-matter reactors could do no harm to already dead soil, and so the whole world was covered with the dead skeletons of past wars.
The Star of Ithoria, rechristened as the Star Sword, held a low orbit over the otherwise empty heavens over Dubrillion. The Destiny floated a few hundred thousand klicks away in a synchronous orbit.
"The whole planet reeks with hypermatter radiation," Lieutenant Commander Soonta said. The former Imperial still wore her old uniform, but one with crimson stripes running down the length of the pants legs. Now that all the uniforms had been modified, Corra Bard suggested color piping to signify duty areas.
Red was officers, yellow for enlisted. All were paid at Empire-standard.
Tobin nodded, and then turned to Sana Fieliel. The Omwati ran a hand through the red feathers on her head. "It's a difficult proposition," she finally said. "The cost of recycling was high enough that the Empire didn't bother, but even so, most of the components have been exposed to harsh conditions for a century or more. You'd be lucky to be able to assemble one working ship out of every hundred."
"That would still be a fleet," Tobin pointed out.
"You don't have the personnel to do it," the Gungan, Dekarta, said. "Even with your colonists, you don't have the personnel. A single shipyard has a minimum of a hundred thousand workers and three times that many droids."
Tobin turned back to Fieliel. "If I have the personnel could you do it?"
"I could try," she said finally. "But you're going to need dedicated engineering teams. This isn't something colonists can do." She was referring to the still settling colony on Sestia. "And you have to understand that you are asking me to commit treason."
"I'm not asking you," Tobin said. "I'm making you. So far I've used nice measures. But don't think for a second that I won't use harsher techniques." He looked back out the view ports to the planet below. It was a dirty gray color, poisoned by war and refuse. "I know where to find the best engineers in the galaxy. Start putting together an action plan and the materials you are likely to need." He turned to Sula Santari, who was there to represent what workforce her people could provide. "Do what you can to help her, please. You'll be working out of the Star Sword. Silmari and Shindo Bard will be in overall command until I return."
"Where are you going?" Santari asked.
"I'm going to get those engineers," Tobin said.
~~The Last Jedi~~
~~The Last Jedi~~
Moff Hershied put the holopad down on her desk and took a long, shaky breath. Davin stood near her desk at stiff attention, while across from her stood Admiral Gest'aka. The Mon Calamari also stood at attention. The only thing that moved were his large, aquatic eyelids. "You've verified this report?" she said.
"Personally," the Mon Cal admiral said. "The Ithorian crewmembers state the entire Imperial contingent was killed. The pirates took the ship with only a single casualty among the crew, and that crewman attempted to resist. Captain Jawalla was recovered a short time later with Sir Hendt Reindel and his family."
"Reindel? The Royal genealogist?"
"Yes, Moff."
"What does he have to say?"
"He demanded immediate transportation to Corusca and refused to give any report. Given his station, I believed it was a matter of prudence to comply with his request post haste."
Whatever else could be said about them, Hershied did not employ idiots. "A good decision, Admiral." She stood up and stepped around the desk. "Do we have the resources to post escorts to all luxury liners?"
"Not without stripping all but our stationary defenses," Gest'aka said. "We could set a criteria limit for escorts, however—certain high profile luxury liners; certain merchant shipping. We can also give temporary dispensation to the Unions to increase their own security forces. That would ease the need for escorts significantly."
Hershied closed her eyes in deep thought. "Letting the Unions arm themselves would help in the short term," she said, "but could cause long term problems. His Majesty would not approve. No, the only way to solve the problem is to remove its source. We need to remove this Tobin S'Artin. The way to do that is to remove his support structures."
The only sound that followed was the heavy, wet breathing of the Mon Cal. "Are you suggesting attacking the Rings, Admiral?"
"Convince me why I shouldn't," Hershied said.
"Because we would take heavier losses than Grand Moff Dinteri would accept," the Admiral said quickly. "We know from our sources there that the Rings are very nearly as heavily defended as this base. And with the number of ships the pirates as a whole have, we would lose at minimum a third of our sector fleet. Possible more. Any attack would have to be numerically overwhelming."
Hershied huffed, but did not argue. The military answered to the Moffs, but the Moffs did not last long if they did not listen to what the military said.
"Perhaps we could attack the pirate shipping directly," Davin said timidly.
"Explain," Hershied commanded.
"We set up response stations along all the main shipping routes," he said. "We can't be everywhere at once, but we can at least have reaction teams close by. If we cut reaction times down and hit attacking pirates hard while letting the rest of the pirate population know that this S'Artin is the reason for the crackdown, they may assist us in turning the pirate over."
Dila looked over and saw Gest'aka nodding. "That is a sound suggestion, Moff Hershied," he said. "We could easily divert sufficient forces to pockets along the main trade lanes. Perhaps a frigate and two corvettes per station."
"This S'Artin is flying one of our own frigates," Hershied said. "I think perhaps two frigates minimum."
Gest'aka agreed. "It will be done, Moff Hershied." The admiral bowed and quickly left the room.
Hershied stood and ambled over to Davin. "That was a very good idea, Davin," she said in a throaty voice. "Such suggestions should be thoroughly rewarded. Wouldn't you say?"
"Wholeheartedly, Moff Hershied," Davin agreed.