The Nostalgia for Elsewhere danced through the engagement zone above Ord Mantell with all the style of a butterfly and the precision of a guided missile. Captain Alico Starwind played the flight console like a favorite instrument, effortlessly dodging cannon fire exchanged by battleships and the laser blasts from fighter swarms. Her light freighter was incredibly mobile and she could dogfight with the best of them, but this wasn't her fight. She was on a job.
The ship zipped past the battlefield, punched through the atmosphere, and then she followed the coordinates to the landing zone. As she sailed over Oradam village toward Drelliad's spaceport, she peered down at the muddy turf of Ord Mantell, a wash of drab browns and dull grays. She eased the ship lower and could see the blast pockets and scorched flats of a battle-ravaged world. She leaned forward on the console and glanced up at the sky, a purple smatter of thick clouds. She wondered if it was going to rain or if the dark clouds were just a byproduct of the war.
Alico called up the local weather forecast as she brought the Nostalgia in for a flashy landing, eyes mostly on the chart. Chance of rain was low. The portside hull kissed the pad as she touched down, showering the landing zone in sparks. She leveled out the freighter and the Nostalgia's landing gear touched ground.
Alico powered down the engine, hopped out of the pilot's chair, and ignored her duster slung over the back of the navigator's seat as she made her way down the corridor to the central ship. Her mouse droid rolled toward her, beeping.
"Stay on the ship, Scraps. This won't take long," she told it. It beeped in confirmation and rolled away.
Alico cut through the holoterminal bay, ducked into the spiral that wrapped around the whole ship, and cut a quick left to the boarding ramp. She punched the controls to lower it as the door hissed open. Gray light flooded the compartment and a rush of warm, humid air blasted her in the face. Gross… She would probably be sweating like a grophet by the time she finished her business planet-side. Alico grimaced as she took a step toward the door, already feeling the need for a shower.
She stepped into the light and saw a man was standing at the foot of her boarding ramp—a hangar hand or the cargo courier. He was tall, fit, and probably not much older than her. His skin was lightly tanned, brown hair slicked back, and he was clean shaven with a tribal tattoo on the right side of his face.
"Hello, gorgeous," he murmured, eyes raking her from head to toe. A sweet-talker—big surprise. There were about a dozen in every spaceport. "Can't believe you made it through that separatist shooting gallery, Captain," he said as she descended the ramp, gaze flicking from her hull to the Nostalgia's. "Your ship isn't even scratched. It takes guts landing in the middle of a battlefield. Nice flying."
"Was there a battle?" she asked casually. "I barely noticed."
"Clearly you had a lot of practice getting shot at," he threw out without skipping a beat.
A grin slowly formed before she said, "My reflexes are amazing. So, why would anyone fight over this dump of a world?"
"Why does anybody fight over anything?" He smirked at her as he turned toward the hangar. "There's money to be made."
Can't argue with that, she thought and followed him into the hangar. He was practically speed-walking, but the humidity was so stifling that all she could manage was a casual stroll. She didn't feel like sweating any more than she already was.
An explosion in the distance caused the whole building to vibrate. The battle had spread to Drelliad village.
"The name's Skavak," the man tossed over his shoulder. "I'm picking up those blasters in your cargo hold." He twisted at the waist to look at her, his eyes briefly skimming her figure, before he straightened and said, "Excuse the rush but, uh, need to get out of here quick." He crossed to a console and began processing the delivery. "This village used to be safe, but the separatists are taking over. If I were you, I'd haul jets as soon as we're done."
Alico stopped a few feet behind him, dropping her weight onto her hip. She planted her elbow on the back of her hand stretched across her torso and asked, "Who are these people, anyway?" She examined the dirt under her nails and wondered where it had come from. "What are they after?"
"Separatists," he answered like she had somehow missed that part, "want to break away from the Republic." The ground trembled with another explosion. The courier picked up a payroll pad from the console. "Judging by all the explosions," he said as he pulled a blank credit chip from his pocket and inserted it into the pad, "they're serious about the idea."
"Only a little," she muttered sarcastically, twisting at the waist to look back at her ship resting on the landing pad. If even one stray grenade so much as scratched her ship, she was going to have to separate some spinal cords.
"Sounds like the bombing is getting closer," the courier said. Alico turned to find him approaching her. "The separatists will be right on top of us any minute. Here's your payment for making this run, Captain." He offered her the credit chip and she pocketed it. "Soon as I get those blasters, you'll be free to fly."
Alico opened her mouth to get the transfer started when a door across the hangar opened and someone yelled, "Skavak!" Alico whirled around as a man sprinted into the room.
"We've got a big problem!" the guy yelled. "Separatists took over the local air defense cannon!"
"Whoa! Slow down, slow down, Corso," the courier said, brushing past her. His arm grazed her shoulder. "What are you talking about?"
"They deployed some kind of remote control stations—hijacked the cannon's targeting computer. Damn separatists just destroyed an incoming Republic transport!"
Alico frowned. The war didn't matter to her so long as it didn't cross her path, but taking over the air defense cannon would strand her on Ord Mantell way longer than she cared to be there—not to mention the risk to her ship. If they had the means to destroy a whole transport, they could obliterate the Nostalgia for Elsewhere.
"That's bad news, Captain," the courier said, folding his arms over his chest and shaking his head. Obviously, she thought as she crossed to where they were standing. "The separatists will blast you out of the sky if you even think about taking off."
"Isn't this what the Republic troops are for?" she asked.
"They've already got their hands full!" the one called Corso exclaimed, wide-eyed and sweating. His skin was like leather, brown and dry. He looked like a farmer—talked like one, too. "Separatist rocket launchers just attacked a Republic Walker—knocked it down hard."
Alico's jaw tensed. What was with this kid? He was a blasted beacon of bad news. First a transport then a walker? "What are you—tracking their explosions?" The courier snorted and Farm-boy looked confused. Wait, had she said that out loud? Alico looked at her ship on the landing pad then at the purple sky, suddenly feeling nervous. "How secure is this hangar?"
"Secure enough," Farm-boy answered.
"Enough's not going to stop a rocket launcher," the courier mumbled, and Alico had to agree. She really hated these backwater planets with their half-assed security measures and inefficient protocols. She looked at her ship once more and then at the two men in front of her.
There was no way she could stay here waiting for the Republic to get a grip on some separatist scum—not when they had rocket launchers and control of the orbital defense cannon. Alico tapped the blaster holstered on her right hip, agitation building under her skin. She was sweaty and annoyed and she wanted to get the hell off this awful planet.
"Point me," she said, shrugging out of her jacket. Patience had never been one of her virtues.
"What?" both men said at the same time. She tossed her jacket at the farm boy, who caught it and gently folded it in half.
"I really have no intention of staying here longer than I need to," she explained casually, pulling her short hair back into a small ponytail and tying it off.
"You trying to get yourself killed, Captain?" the courier asked.
"It's sweet of you to worry," she simpered, "but I can take care of myself."
The courier shrugged one shoulder, an expression flitting across his face that she didn't understand as he took out his datapad and pulled up a local map. He coded it into a handheld holoprojector and a three-dimensional rendering of the area sprang up between them. He tapped their location on the screen only a short distance away from the battle zone that was lit up in red and a marker began blinking within the projection.
"The separatists have remote control stations all over the area," Farm-boy explained. "Towers are here, here, here—at least." He showed her on the map. The courier punched in the data and it rendered on the holo. "You'll probably have to hit several before they lose control of that cannon. The targeting computer is housed here." He pointed to a building in the middle of the circle of remote towers. At least she wouldn't have to go far…
Alico narrowed her gaze, studying the image in front of her until she had mapped every detail. She made eye contact with the courier through the holo for just a moment. He nodded at her, an affirmative gesture that told her she was clear to proceed, and uploaded the map to her datapad.
"Get those blasters unloaded," she said. "I won't be long."
"Good luck," Farm-boy said, grinning stupidly. "I hope we see you again."
Alico quirked a brow as amusement at his flirtation flickered and faded against the stress of her coming task.
"Thanks for the blasters, Captain," the courier said. "And, uh, good luck out there." He waved to Farm-boy and moved out of her way. "C'mon, Corso, stop drooling over the captain. We're running out of time."
Alico took a deep breath as she headed across the hangar and then she was through the blast door and into the riot of battle.
...
Drelliad was small for a town with a spaceport and it had taken Alico almost no time at all to cross it, disable the remote control towers, and make her way to the targeting computer station. The building was poorly secured—only two guards. These separatists seemed about as dumb as a box of rocks armed with military firepower—a dangerous combination, but also short-lived. Once the Republic troops figured that out, they would put down this movement hard.
Alico peered at the station's two guards from the safety of her stealth generator's cloak. One was lazily thumbing through a small bank of holocards, his gun resting on the desk next to his propped feet, and the other was tinkering on a nearby console, her rifle in her hand but finger nowhere near the trigger. Easy pickings.
She grinned and moved to the stairwell across from the console, aimed at the woman, and shot. The body smacked against the monitor and dropped to the ground. The man at the desk jerked in surprise. He didn't quite make it to his feet—or his gun—before she put a blaster bolt through his temple. He slumped back into his chair, glazed eyes tilted toward the ceiling.
Alico immediately reached for her belt buckle and activated the hidden stealth generator before moving up the stairs to find the targeting computer unguarded. She deactivated the generator with a mild brush of disappointment, holstered her blaster, and began fiddling with the controls. The console beeped loudly at her. She smacked the buttons, trying to disengage the system. It beeped some more, frozen mid-command.
"Muddy backwater tech," she muttered, pulled out her blaster again, and shot the console. Sparks flew out from the panel and electricity surged across the keyboard in a bright flash, and then the whole system powered down with a low whine.
Her holocom started beeping. She yanked it off her belt and was surprised when the farm boy appeared.
"Captain, you there? It's Corso," he said, urgency lacing his tone. Her stomach dropped. "We got trouble back at the hangar."
"Is my ship alright?" she asked, immediately moving down the stairs and toward the exit.
"For now," he assured her, "but maybe not much longer. Separatists are busting into the hangar! We're giving them a warm welcome but we could use a hand." Corso twisted at the waist to look at something over his shoulder. "Skavak, get over here! Help me seal this hangar door!" His tone changed. "Skavak? What you are—?"
The call went dead. Alico stopped in her tracks, frowning at the missing projection for just a second, and then she activated her stealth generator and was sprinting across the battlefield back to the spaceport. Mud slicked her boots, sweat trickled down the side of her brow, and a terrible feeling was roiling in her gut.
She took a sharp turn into her docking stall and another into the hangar. There were several separatists trading gunfire with the security droid but he was badly damaged. Alico raced across the hanger, blaster in her hand. She took aim, fired, and hit one in the head just seconds before she leapt onto the back of the man she'd been charging and brought them both to the ground hard. She grabbed onto him and rolled, using him for a shield as she aimed again and fired at the two who turned on her. Her human shield took two grievous blaster bolts to the chest and she gave him a mercy shot to the head once his pals hit the floor.
Alico scrambled to her feet and crossed to where the farm boy was slumped against some canisters.
"Ugh," he groaned, holding his head. "Feels like a gundark used my skull as a drum." He reached up as Alico extended her hand to help him up. "Thanks for saving my hide, Captain."
Alico nodded and was about to ask where the other guy was when she heard the familiar sound of her freighter's engines firing up. Everything went blank for a moment as fear shot straight through her. She didn't feel it as she released the farm boy, wasn't sure if he fell over or made it to his feet. She didn't hear what he said or the sound of her own footsteps as she whirled and ran toward the bay door. Her ship was hovering, rotating out. And then the Nostalgia's thrusters were roaring in her ears as her ship flew away.
"No," she whispered, staring wide-eyed at where it had disappeared. "No. No. Nonononono!"
Her ship—her home—was gone.
"Skavak helped those separatists get in here," the farm boy explained. No, wait, what was his name? Corso. "He stabbed us in the back!"
She whirled around as he hobbled toward her. "How could you not know he was working with the enemy?" she blurted, rage tempered only by panic.
"Skavak was one smooth customer," he countered defensively, as if to say that it wasn't his fault for not noticing.
"That nerfherder?" she bellowed in disbelief.
"And now he has your ship and those weapons!"
Blast, the weapons, she remembered with a pang of horror. He stole her cargo. Alico groaned. This would do something terrible to her reputation.
"Hang on… Where's Torchy?" Farm-bo—Corso exclaimed, pulling her out of her thoughts. He pawed at his hip. "I don't believe this. Skavak stole my blaster!" Her jaw almost dropped as he met her gaze. "Torchy's a genuine BlasTech ALT-25 with magnatomic adhesion grip and side-mounted rangefinder. She's too good for Skavak."
Was this idiot serious? A blaster? Her ship was gone! Her home, her cargo, her reputation, her mouse droid! And he was crying over some fancy blaster?
"Forget your stupid blaster!" she nearly shrieked, waving her arms. "What about my ship?"
Corso whipped out his holocom. "He's not getting away with this," he told her as he dialed a frequency. "C'mon." He pushed the call again. "C'mon!" Again. "Pick up, blast you!"
Skavak's tiny holoprojection finally appeared and Alico zeroed in on it.
"Aw, what's the matter, Corso?" Skavak began. "Did I hurt your feelings? Be thankful you're alive, kid." He glimpsed over his shoulder, saw her, and turned to face her. Alico stared at him. It was the first time she really looked at him, saw a person and not just a cargo courier.
"You realize you're a dead man, right?" she said, surprised at the calm in her voice when all she felt was anger vibrating through her.
"Plenty of women want me dead, sweetheart. You'll just have to get in line." He leaned forward ever so slightly like he was going to share a secret with her. "You know, this rust-bucket handles like a drunken dewback but, uh," he smiled brightly, "I like it! You know the saying, right? Finders keepers." He grinned like only a conman could and sketched a bow. "On behalf of Ord Mantell's glorious freedom fighters, I thank you for your blasters, your ship, and a big laugh. Have a nice day."
"C'mon," Alico snarled. "At least let me make you a better offer!"
But the image had winked out. She stared at that blank space, stunned by her helplessness. Suddenly it was hard to breathe.
"He was always good at making an exit," Corso muttered bitterly and Alico wanted to punch him in the face. She glared at him as he pocketed his holocom. "Skavak stole my blaster, but I guess it's not as bad as losing a whole starship. I feel for you, Captain."
Corso looked at her with such genuine remorse in his eyes and that was the only thing that stopped her from knocking him on his ass and yelling, "Do you think so?!" Alico snapped her datapad from her back pocket and frantically logged into her ship's tracking data. A dialogue box flashed up asking her to input her starship identification number. She did, but it just kept asking for the number. He had deactivated the system. Blast! She swiped the program off the screen and loaded up her less than legal pulse beacon. Nada. Somehow, he had disabled that, too. She screamed in frustration and chucked her datapad. It shattered on the ground. Now what? Now what?
Her mind was racing. Why hadn't she re-outfitted her mouse droid with a taser after she left Corellia? Who cared about CorSec's dumb "policies"? If she had just ignored those morons, her droid would've shocked the druk out of that scoundrel and she would be halfway to Nar Shaddaa and—
"Damn it!" she cursed as she remembered the job she had lined up on Nar Shaddaa. And now she'd smashed her datapad and had no way to cancel the run. What was that holo frequency again? She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to remember.
"Listen," Corso continued sympathetically, reaching out to her. She jerked back in surprise. "Skavak and I were working for a guy named Viidu. When he finds out Skavak was a separatist, he'll want revenge just like you. I guarantee he'll help get your ship back."
"And how do I know you're not in on this?" Alico blurted. "Or this Viidu guy. Or even that blasted droid!" She motioned to the security droid across the hangar. It flinched in surprise and pointed to itself, sparking in disrepair from the battle.
"We're not with him," Corso insisted. "I swear to you. Just talk to Viidu—"
"I don't remember asking you for help," she snapped.
"Don't be like that," Corso said softly, sympathetically. "Skavak's gotta show up eventually." He crossed to the command bay. "Viidu's a smart guy with connections everywhere. They call him the 'King of Cargo'. There isn't a payload that comes to Ord Mantell that doesn't pass through him. If anybody can find your ship, it's him." He picked something up and came back to her. "I have to lock down this hangar, but I'll send Viidu a holo and tell him what's up." He gently handed her the jacket she had tossed at him earlier. "Fort Garnik isn't far from here. I'll see you and Viidu there soon, Captain."
Alico stared at her jacket for a moment before gingerly taking it. "Forts tend to be full of people I prefer to avoid, kid," she said, deflated.
"Not to worry." He was trying to sound chipper. "The Republic Army runs Fort Garnik, but they let the boss do as he pleases." He smiled at her. "I'll see you there. Okay?"
Alico looked at him, at his sun-kissed skin and warm, brown eyes. His dreadlocks were tied back, a few stray locks framing his face. There were two light scars across his nose and several on his left cheek. She briefly wondered how it happened. He seemed young—naïve—but kind.
"Okay," she conceded and walked back out into the village of Drelliad. Thunder rumbled above and she felt the first few specks of rain on her arms. "Damn it," she muttered then pulled on her jacket. "I hate this planet."