Page sat on the edge of the co-pilots chair, every muscle tense and his attention focused on the readouts from the navicomp.
"Anything on the scopes?"
"Not so far," Char murmured, his head tails twitching. "We're in the right place, old man." He gave his friend a measured stare. "Should she have been out by now?"
"I don't know. She sent the signal ages ago, suppose we missed her? We can only wait another day at the most." He glanced at the Twilek.
Char frowned. "Why is she so important?"
Page looked genuinely surprised for a moment. "I'm not sure… yet. But my gut instinct tells me she is. Lieutenant Maija is a very resourceful young woman. We don't have too many with her level of skills that we can afford to squander them needlessly. Especially now. We badly need every able alliance operative right now if the Rebellion is to stay alive."
Added to that were one or two facts he'd dug out about her recently – some very well hidden ones too. The knowledge that she was Biggs Darklighter's cousin had merely startled him momentarily. She resembled him only in his devotion to duty to the Rebel Alliance and perhaps now that he knew about the connection – there was something in the curve of her jaw and the darkness of her hair. There was enough about this agent that made him want to find out more. Some areas in her background had thrown up complete dead ends. Enough to fool an Imperial investigative team perhaps?
"Could Hoth have been avoided?" Char wondered aloud.
The grave expression on the Twilek's face made Cullen wince with remembered pain. If he'd only been there he could have helped… but he'd been on the other side of the galaxy. He shook himself from his thoughts.
"I don't think so. It was inevitable the base would be found. We hoped we might have a bit longer, but it wasn't to be. A lot of good people lost their lives. The Empire threw a lot of resources into finding us. We should be flattered that they consider us such a threat" He shrugged wearily. "It was only two weeks ago. We still don't know how many people made it out alive. The first of the transport ships arrived at the rendezvous point just four days ago. That was the last thing I learned before coming out to you."
Still, one transport ship made it." The Twilek tried to lighten the mood."
"Yes and the others were supposedly not far behind."
Char frowned. "Then what?"
"We lost a lot of equipment - stuff we couldn't afford to lose - but that's war. Hoth base was existing on the edge as it was. First Derra IV and then Hoth cleaned us out in that sector. The worst part is that there has been no word from Princess Leia Organa. She got out on the Falcon with Solo, but they haven't been seen or heard of since."
The Twilek whistled soundlessly.
And… No word from Luke either."
"That's not like him."
"No, but there's no sign of the Imps having captured him, so that is something. Cracken's monitored all the usual channels. If they'd even been a parsec from Luke, the General would have known about it."
"He keeps tabs on him?"
"Let us say that he tries to. Luke has ways of disappearing into trouble that even the best Alliance scouts cannot fathom. General Cracken tries to look out for all the Alliance leadership. Luke just finds situations easily."
"Luke will come through. He always does. Stubborn as an inebriated yuzzum, that boy. " Char murmured reassuringly as he flicked a couple of switches on his console. All at once a beeping sound filled the cockpit.
Char moved the shuttle into a synchronous orbit with an uninhabited moon in the neighbouring system to the one containing Adon III. "We wait," he stated briefly. "You look exhausted Cullen. When was the last time you got some decent rest? I suggest you get some sleep. I'll keep watch."
Page rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "I'll take you up on that – thanks." He uncoiled himself slowly from the co-pilot's chair and made his way to the bunk at the back of the cockpit. "You'll wake me…"
Char nodded. "If anything happens – sure."
***********************
Nerano knew exactly where the anomalous bioscan readings had occurred. He didn't have to spend hours poring over data feeds and holo images. He gave a surreptitious glance at his boss's closed door before calling up the security logs attached to the garrison commander's office. Nothing tallied. The holo vids didn't correlate with the audio files. They were misleading, missing or even worse… scrambled. Nerano recognised level four encryption work when he saw it. It would take an expert at least a couple of days to break. It would take Nerano an awful lot longer.
He pulled up the audio files and met with similar results. The recordings were poor. He scrutinised carefully a recording, which had Maija and Chaptor alone in her office. When he matched up the audio with the holo vid, he still was not any clearer, but he did see Maija pass something to Chaptor. It looked like a recording rod, but it could have been a slim line holofile or a data rod.
He sat back in his chair expelling a frustrated sigh. He knew he'd proved something. Maija was a Rebel agent and so was Cul Chaptor. She'd clearly passed something to him and then he'd disappeared, never to be seen again. That was more than enough evidence. Add to that all the tampered files and a picture was emerging. The only person who had access to all of these corrupted files, apart from the Commander and the Governor… For an instant Nerano considered them and then dismissed the idea as ridiculous. He was getting paranoid. No, the only one with all the proper codes and the ability coupled with the best Imperial training… was Maija.
So what was he going to do now? His automatic response should be to go into the Governor's office and tell him what he suspected – yet he hesitated. His mind harkened back to the small family of aliens being deported from the planet simply for belonging to a different species and the unnecessary execution of the father, the dreary and depressed population toiling in terrible conditions for no reward. Was Maija right and he, wrong? His mind whirled; suddenly thoughts were flying through his head… treasonous thoughts. No, he firmly halted his wayward feelings. He was an Imperial soldier – he had to do his duty. Nerano got slowly to his feet, his legs heavy and unwilling to move. Perhaps if he talked to Maija - persuaded her to turn herself in. Give the names of the other agents on Triadon. Yes – he grasped at the idea. Talk to her - make her see she was wrong.
Resolutely he got to his feet, glancing once again at his superior's office. He would find out for sure and then he would let the Governor know. It was his duty as an Imperial soldier.
****************************
Rorek glanced furtively at his wrist chrono once again while Rorri kept an anxious look on the rapidly darkening sky.
"What do we do if she doesn't come?" the boy whispered, his white face drawn in the dimly lit office.
"She'll come," Rorek tried to reassure. He hadn't the faintest idea what to do if she didn't. There was no way he could get off Triadon and with Rorri. The Stormtroopers were bound to be looking for him too, by now.
Rorri heard it first, his keen ears picking up the muffled sound of a carefully driven engine. "I hear something." He was on his feet and out of the building before the older man could urge him to caution.
Rorek let out the breath he'd been holding for what seemed like hours and, with a deeply felt sigh, made his way outside. It had to be Jamia. The Imperials would have no need of such stealth. The lights of the speeder flashed on and off in sequence. Rorek activated the gates and the vehicle coasted gently to a stop. Maija extricated herself, her expression blank.
"I have a problem." Her face and bearing tensed, as she opened her mouth…
With a dull thud, the limp body of Franjeer Nerano tumbled out of the vehicle and lay half in the mud.
"Help me! For sith's sake." Maija muttered fiercely, trying to pull Nerano out of the speeder, or push him back in, she wasn't sure which. He was far too big for her to move on her own.
For the first time since he had known her, Rorek suddenly realised that Jamia was as young as Rorri and, in this instance, she was as frightened as he was but was valiantly trying to cover up that fact. The faint air of unaccustomed panic surrounded her slim frame. How old was she? Nineteen… twenty? What kind of people put children into these situations?
Rorri gulped loudly, his face whitening even further than it had been previously. Despite working for the cell he'd still been sheltered from war's brutality. "Is he… Is he… Dead?"
Maija shivered and turned her face away from the body of the large man still wedged awkwardly half in and half out of the vehicle. "No… he's just stunned."
"We're in trouble," Rorri breathed. "Big trouble."
"You've just realised that now?" Maija's voice was sharp as she tried to master her fear. "What did you think we were doing before? This is war, Rorri – grow up. We're not playing anymore. I never had time to play…" She made a disgusted sound and swung away, clenching her fists. "Look, I need access to your computer. I have to send a signal. I've exploded my cover and my portable data reader. It's vital I send a signal or we're all as good as dead."
"Did you have to take him with you?" Rorek's voice interrupted grimly, indicating the unconscious figure of Nerano.
"I had no choice. Look, I'll explain later." Her voice was terse. "Secure him, please."
Rorri shrugged, but warily checked Nerano out before putting binders on his wrists and with Rorek's help dragged him clear of the speeder and into the office.
"The comm Centre is set up two levels down. I hadn't time to do a proper strip-down and restore."
"Will it function?"
The affronted expression on Rorri's face was almost comical. "Of course it will."
"Come on then." She glanced at the recumbent figure of Nerano. "Better take him with us."
They made the trip down to the lower levels in silence. Maija stood, her face shuttered, ignoring any attempts Rorek made to catch her eye.
"Attach his binders to that metal conduit over there. It should be strong enough to hold him." She looked around for the comms as Rorek affixed the cuffs to the conduit.
Rorri ran towards the equipment spilling out of durasteel boxes. "Here," he gabbled nervously.
For the first time Maija met his stare and nodded before turning towards the screen and the microphone. With nimble fingers she tapped out a coded sequence into the keypad in front of her and was rewarded with a short burst of static and a high-pitched whine. "Omega Signal… plus two." She spoke rapidly into the receiver. "Come on," she urged. "Answer me."
"Omega Signal plus two."
"Sandstorm…?" The comm crackled to life, the tinny voice loud in the silence of the underground room. Both men jumped.
"Where in the force have you been?"
"Good to hear from you too," Maija bit out irritably. "We have a major problem. I don't want to broadcast for too long. They're probably tracking any transmissions, but my cover has gone. Two of our ops have been arrested leaving their son and another contact in hiding."
"You know where?"
"They're here, with me and so is Nerano. I had to stun him."
The sound of a few colourful curses echoed round the chamber. "Can you get to us?" the tinny voice asked. "I'll transmit the co-ordinates."
"They have the spaceport sealed because they've started purges. It may be difficult."
"Is there a defence grid in operation?"
Maija gave a small smile. "Only around the spaceport and the industrial heart of the city." Her tired eyes brightened a little and she tapped something into a data pad before handing it to Rorek. "You've just provided us with an escape route, I hope."
Rorek tapped in a set of co-ordinates on the data pad, checked it with Rorri, who nodded and added another set, before handing it back to Maija. "These might work. It's not far from here, but we have to double back towards the edge of the security perimeter."
Rorri nodded in agreement. "We might have to blow a couple of overhead securicams and there is a manned defence station fairly near. It used to be the site of one of the biggest factories about twenty years ago. It was so big it even had it's own space dock. It's a wasteland now, like most of this sector."
"In other words, it is open enough for a ship to land."
"Yeah, but will it get out?" Maija surveyed the faces of the two men in front of her and made her decision. "We've no other choice. We'll have to risk it."
"What about him?" Rorri indicated the supine figure of Nerano.
"What about him?" Maija returned a little defensively.
"What are we going to do with him?" Rorri's tone was hostile.
"We'll have to kill him?" Rorek tried to sound fierce, but his hands trembled. He'd never killed in cold blood before, not even as part of the Triadon Rebel Cell.
"We're not killing him," Maija snapped back. "He's my friend…" She bit her lip uncertainly. "Was my friend. I can't kill him. He didn't kill me and he could have. He could have turned me in…" she gazed at Nerano's awkwardly sprawled form.
"Sandstorm?" Page's voice sounded impatient.
"Sorry," she murmured her mind on the task at hand once more. "Can you get to us?"
"I have new data," interrupted Rorri suddenly. "My mother gave it to me. She said it was urgent, but I don't know what it is. I haven't viewed it yet." He patted his tunic.
Maija placed her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "It'll be alright, Rorri," she reassured, suddenly calm again. "We'll get the information to the people who will know what to do with it." Her voice urgent, once more Maija repeated into the comm., "Can you get to us at these co-ordinates?"
"We'll be there."
"How long?"
"How long do you need to get to the co-ordinates?" The disembodied voice asked.
"At the most an hour. Can you get there in that time?" Maija quizzed carefully.
"Should do, we're in orbit around Praxis Moon."
"Be careful."
"You're telling me that!"
"Sorry," Maija gave an unwilling chuckle. "So you came to make sure I got out safely then?"
"We need every one we have. See you."
"Yeah… See you. Sandstorm, out!" She stared into space for a moment, still chewing on her lip, then snapped back with her usual briskness. "Right! You both heard that. We need to get moving. Get your things. Take as little as you have to. We can't transport very much – it would only hamper our movements. Basic essentials – nothing more."
Rorri held up the bag his mother had packed for him – was it only that morning? Rorek pulled a carryall from a cupboard and methodically packed various bits and pieces, while Maija turned back to the computer and rapidly tapped a string of commands into it.
"Port security need to have a few distractions when our lift out of here flies in to collect us." She gave the two men a dry smile. "The security satellites will suddenly go off line at about the time that we have some heavy duty meteor activity."
Rorek chuckled. "Rorri could programme some tactical instrument fluctuations if you access the codes for him."
"Will it take long?"
Rorri shook his head. "I have a data file just ready to download into their systems. It might not hide our rescue for long, but it will surely distract any one looking for one."
Maija considered the idea quickly. "Do it, then move away from the equipment."
Rorri quickly tapped in his data then, mystified, moved to the back of the room.
Maija cut the connection, pulled her blaster from her holster and fired several shots into the heart of the equipment. The holo screen shattered and several components erupted in a shower of hissing sparks. Rorri's mouth dropped open in shock.
"No-o-!"
"I have to destroy it."
Rorek grabbed Rorri's shoulders and held him back as Maija ruthlessly finished the job. "She's right, son. Let her do it. We can't leave it for the Imps to find."
"But…" He shook in the older man's grasp. "My parents…"
Maija inserted a fresh power pack into her clip and returned it to her belt. "Would have done the same. You know it." She looked at the unsalvageable equipment. "I'm sorry, Rorri." The sympathy faded from her gaze. "Do we have any thermal detonators?"
Rorek let go Rorri's shoulders and walked to a small cupboard. Pulling a key from a chain on his neck, he unlocked it and indicated to Maija she should take what she wanted. There was a good array of weaponry and explosives stored there.
"Take as much as you can carry. You too, Rorri. We may need it. Rorek can you set a charge? This place has to be destroyed. We'll give ourselves about an hour to get well away. It shouldn't cause too loud an explosion this far down."
"There is no need, Maija. Lhinda and Krupek already have a self-destruct system installed in many of the places we used. I only need to activate it."
"Good," she replied grimly.
"What…" Rorri's face showed complete shock. "You want to use the self-destruct, but what if we need…" His face blanched. "We won't be coming back ever – will we?"
"Give me your hand, son."
"Eh?"
"Give me your hand, Rorri." Rorek repeated patiently.
"Why?"
"Put it here," he instructed as he pushed aside a panel next to the turbolift. "The self-destruct code is sequenced to your genetic markers. Only you can activate it."
Rorri let his hand sweep over the panel and with a clicking sound, the lights changed from blue to red.
"Self-destruct in one hour," the female computer voice intoned dully just as Franjeer Nerano groaned slowly into consciousness.
****************************************
Governor Markieer filled his beaker with caf and took a generous swig, wincing when the too hot liquid burned his tongue. 'Damn!' he swore to himself, but his mind concentrated on the contents of the pad in front of him. The Analysis Bureau was sending investigators. Of course they had spies on Triadon. They were producing industrial components and processing raw materials for the Imperial war machine. Only a simpleton would have expected the Rebellion to passively sit by. Up until six months ago he'd been on top of the situation. Now things had spun wildly out of his control. Whoever had taken charge of the Rebellion's activities on Triadon had proved to be very effective. They were closing in on him or her, but too slowly for his peace of mind. It was just the last thing he needed… these people arriving from Coruscant thinking they knew everything there was to know about his situation.
Flicking a switch he spoke into his com. "Lieutenant Nerano, report!"
"Lieutenant Nerano has gone out, Sir. This is Brakston."
"Where has he gone?"
"He said he had to check some data at the garrison."
"Without telling me he was going? Most strange," he said, slowly rubbing his tired eyes.
"Do you know what data he was going to check on?"
"Something to do with the training exercise you set us, Sir. The one about searching for infiltrators."
"Training exercise!" Markieer echoed in surprise.
"Yes, Sir."
"Contact Commander Fariu and tell him I want to speak to him."
"Yes, Sir."
Markieer leant back in his chair, his expression grave. Something wasn't correct here.
"Sir!" The secretary's voice echoed through the com speaker.
"Yes! You've contacted the Commander?"
"Yes and no, Sir."
"Explain!" he barked shortly.
"The Commander can't be contacted. He reported feeling unwell several times over the last day or two and was finally seen by the medical droid earlier today. The medic prescribed him a sedative. He's asleep in his quarters, Sir."
"You've checked?"
"Of course, Sir." The voice took on an affronted tone.
"Damn!" Markieer swore quietly to himself. "Who's in charge?"
"Commander Filps, I believe. He checked the status of Commander Fariu himself not too long ago when I asked and confirmed that the Commander is in his quarters asleep."
There was silence for a moment and then Markieer sighed. "When Lieutenant Nerano returns I want to speak to him in my office."
Brakston gave an affirmative and returned without much enthusiasm to his statistics. First a weird training exercise and then the Governor asking strange questions. If such things ever happened, which was highly unlikely on Triadon of all places, he thought he might have just landed in the middle of a Rebel plot. But Triadon had to be the most boring planet anyone ever had the misfortune to be stationed upon. Still, he reflected idly, his next posting should be more prestigious.
