Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.
Chapter 7:
"How many more do you think they have?" Myn's voice sounded tinny over the Hope's internal com system. They were busily clearing out enough rubble to get the large landing craft clear of the hangar if they had to make a quick escape.
"My money's on at least ten. Between four angry Wampas and your rather impressive job of bringing down the house, we managed to take out eleven. They were professionals. They would have prepared for the possibility of a catastrophic screw-up on their first attempt." She pulled the dual triggers; activating the laser cannons on the front of the Hope. The tons of ice and snow were clearing quite well. The metal beams were going to be difficult to move, but she was fairly certain that the Hope had enough overhead clearance to get over them even if they stayed where they were.
"You're expecting another attempt, then?"
Kirney nodded before she realized that Myn was on the opposite end of the ship in the other forward turret, and couldn't actually see her, "Yes. This is Logos Corva we're talking about; probably one of the most ruthless gangsters since Jabba got dropped out of the race. He may not have some of the resources that others out there have, but he knows that his reputation will take a fatal beating if word gets out that his daughter married a verpine; and for a gangster, reputation is everything." She stopped for a moment, "if, on the other hand, word gets out that his daughter married a Verpine, but he killed him, and their alien children and brought his daughter back…" She left that thought unfinished, "believe me, he'll stop at nothing to bring us in."
Myn was silent, realizing that she was right. Jabba probably wouldn't have been so fearful a creature had it not been for his habit of throwing those who opposed him into the Sarlacc pit; or feeding them to his pet rancor. If it hadn't been for his reputation of ruthlessness, he probably wouldn't have been much more frightening than your average nuna. Even if Minos and the two human daughters ended up dead, it would serve as remarkable political capital for the gangster. After all, what better way to demonstrate ruthlessness than to kill your own flesh and blood?
"So, why are we waiting here? Why don't we make a run for it?"
"Where would we run to? Do you honestly think that there's anywhere we could go where Gus and his family would be safe? Even if we kill every one of their troops, then make a run for hyperspace, and even if they don't manage to make a call for reinforcements before we do; someone's still going to be on whatever transport brought them here, and they'll be able to track us through hyperspace."
"So, we can't run, and if we stay here we'll be beaten sooner or later. So what's the plan?"
She looked at the slowly evaporating mound of snow in front of the landing craft. It would now provide ample protection against an assault and had shrunk just enough to allow the Sentinel to get over it without scraping its vertical fin on the roof. Perfect.
"That's enough," she announced, "We'll need something of a barricade when they attempt another assault."
"Roger that. You didn't answer my question."
"For now, we wait until nightfall."
"And then?"
"Then we hope that whoever's running the show over there hasn't decided to grow a brain."
It was about twenty minutes later that the two found themselves in Kirney's cramped quarters on the Hope. Hoth spun remarkably slowly on its axis, and nightfall was still several hours off. Kirney sat heavily on the bunk, wishing that the stress of the last few days could just bleed off of her.
"So, nightfall?"
"I'd bet my life on it, but if I'm wrong, Tonin and Clink will be able to warn us hours before they reach our doorstep."
"Why don't you make a run for it? We'll bolt for Corellia, you and Tonin can take my Headhunter from there to wherever you can get to."
"What about you?" Kirney looked up at him. Her voice sounded tired.
"I'm a pilot with Rogue squadron. I'll be fine."
"What about Gus?"
"You agreed with me a minute ago that we can't beat these guys."
"I did," Kirney conceded.
"You're gambling your life and your freedom on a fight you admit you can't win. Why are you fighting for this?"
"Why are you always trying to convince me that I shouldn't?" She demanded.
"What is it about eight people you don't know that's worth defending?" Myn's voice raised, slightly.
"Myn, it's the right thing to do, and you know it." For once, Kirney was the calm one in the conversation.
For what seemed like hours, neither one dared speak; as if neither trusted their own lips to say the right words.
Kirney broke the silence first, "Myn, you've spent a lot of energy in the last couple of days convincing me that I'm being stupid. I know that's not what you really think, so why are you trying to convince me that it is?"
Myn looked down at the floor for a long time before his eyes met hers again, "I lost you once, and a few hours ago, I came close to losing you again."
"Losing the woman who obliterated Talon squadron? I'd think you'd be thrilled." Kirney's voice was bitter.
"Is that really what you think?"
"Does it matter? The real question before the court is what you think." Her eyes looked unflinchingly into his.
This time, Myn broke off the staring contest first. He turned around and stared at the featureless wall across from the bunk, "Kirney, I almost shot down my own commanding officer to get to you. A few hours ago, I could have taken you down without any collateral damage. I didn't." He paused, "I just don't want to see you hurt; not when I can do something about it."
He whirled around when he heard what sounded like a muffled sniffle behind him. Kirney's eyes were bloodshot and a single tear rolled down each of her pale cheeks.
"What is it?"
She smiled, drawing in a shaking breath, "You called me 'Kirney.'"
For a moment, Myn found himself unable to speak. The name had rolled off his tongue without him even thinking about it. Somehow, in the last days, she had become Kirney to him. She was no longer Gara Petothel, the woman who had sent Talon squadron to their doom; or Lara Notsil, the woman who had infiltrated Wraith squadron, and had lied to him every day for weeks. She was Kirney Slane, and somehow, she had become a good person. He had no words for what he was feeling at that moment. Everything he thought was true felt wrong, somehow. As if everything that had ever meant anything in his life was suddenly different. And somehow, he found himself completely incapable of putting those feelings into words.
Kirney felt her heart melt as Myn gently kneeled in front of her and cupped her cheek gently in his hand. So much for the 'tough babe,' she thought to herself, savoring for a moment the warmth of his touch; wishing she could pause this moment as she could a holo recording. She looked into Myn's dark eyes seeing none of the hatred she knew he must have felt for her two alter-egos. They looked at her with a warmth and concern she had never seen in them before, even during her time with Wraith squadron. Without a thought or a word, or, for that matter, a thought, her hand snaked gingerly behind his neck, smoothly pulling his lips inexorably towards hers. Her hand pulled smoothly, but slowly, as though terrified that he would push her away in disgust. Encountering no resistance, they rapidly closed the few centimeters which separated them.
The kiss was not short, nor was it hard and passionate. It was long and sweet and filled with promise; but at the same time tentative and careful as if each party was afraid that the other would come to their senses.
Finally, it was Kirney who gently separated herself from him, looking deeply into his eyes as a smile curled the edges of her mouth.
"That's," she smiled at a memory from her past life, "more like it."
It was surprisingly easy, Kirney realized, to create a small blind spot in the sensors without the computer or the two astromech droids noticing. It wasn't enough to hade an army, but a single intruder could probably sneak in undetected. All she had to do was shift both the front and rear sensor arrays a few degrees to the right, creating a small space on the left side of the ship where the sensors simply didn't look, then convince the spacecraft that the sensors were properly aligned. Not exceptionally difficult as the computer had expected her to tinker with the sensors after the cave-in to make sure they were aligned properly.
She then picked up the microphone and dialed in Ghent's comm frequency.
"Approach from the north-east in five hours. I have created a sensor blind spot large enough for a single intruder. Acknowledge."
A pair of clicks over the comm line informed her that her message had been received and understood.
Five hours, she told herself, this will all be over in five hours.
"Are you sure about this?" Gus seemed concerned.
"Yeah, Kirney knows what she's doing." Myn marveled at the fact that her new name came to him so easily now, "she told us to stay here."
"And you trust her?"
Myn nodded, "Kirney's really the strategist. I just shoot people. If she says this is the way to play it, I'm inclined to believe her."
"You have that blaster ready, right?"
Myn looked down at the Bryar pistol strapped to his thigh, "yeah."
"Alright, then."
"Don't worry. This time tomorrow, it'll all be over one way or the other."
"Why do I not feel any better?"
"How about the fact that you and your family have about a one in fifty chance of still being alive this time tomorrow morning?"
"That would be it."
Kirney yelped in surprise and spun around reflexively, slapping the blaster which had just pressed against her back away with the knife-like edge of her hand, sending it flying.
"Oh, it's you." Ghent stood before her.
"I would have liked to have more people with me." He told her as Kirney walked to the corner of the dark room, recovering the blaster from where it had landed.
"Would you rather that they knew about this little intrusion?"
"No."
"Of course, having you alone has its benefits as well," She pressed the barrel of his blaster under his chin, her finger tightening on the trigger.
"You don't want to do that." His voice was hard, but calm.
"And why not?"
"Because if I'm not back to my ship in one hundred and twenty minutes with Ms. Corva, I gave my pilot orders to head to the nearest civilized planet, and distribute a certain data file to every bounty hunter he can find."
She glared at him, unmistakable fury burning behind her eyes.
"Oh, by all means, kill me. But know that if you do, your days as a free person in this galaxy are over."
For a moment, it looked as though she seriously contemplated shooting him anyway.
He watched as the tension visibly drained from her body, and she smoothly flipped the blaster around to hold it out to him butt-first.
"Nice gun," she told him, "I ever tell you that I have one just like it?"
He took it from her and slipped it into his holster, "No." He then swung a hard right hook, catching her under her left cheek. The force was phenomenal and undefended, causing her knees to buckle and dropping her to the ground in an undignified sprawl, "now if you ever pull a stunt like that again, you'll get to know this blaster a little more closely than I think you'll like."
He then drew his blaster, and gestured with it at the door at the end of the room, "ladies first."
Got them flat-footed, Ghent couldn't hide a nasty grin as he kicked the door open and pushed Gara inside, just like she said we would.
They were all there, all nine of them. A Wookie, a Givin, three Verpine and four humans. Only one of the humans, the blond male, was armed. He, wisely, didn't even attempt to reach for it.
"Nobody move." His blaster swept over the group, he knew in the long room he could kill them all long before any of them could reach him. He'd make it a point to shoot the man with the blaster first.
"Ms. Corva, come over here please, with your two daughters. You do, and I promise I won't harm you. If you don't, I'll kill each of your children in ascending order of age." He looked directly at her, "that would mean that I start with your two daughters."
"Kirney, shoot him." The human male spoke to Gara Petothel. Ah, so that was what she was calling herself these days. He locked that bit of information away for later use.
Petothel didn't move.
"Kirney, what are you waiting for? Shoot him."
A sad look crossed Petothel's face, and she slowly drew her blaster pistol from its holster.
"I'm sorry, Myn," she said as the blaster leveled itself, pointing directly at Myn's heart.
A look of anguish spread over the man's face as he realized the depth of the woman's betrayal. Ghent couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "You are out of options, Ms. Corva. Come over here, please." He gestured at the space next to the human male, and smiled as the woman and her two daughters moved as directed. "Petothel, if any one of them moves, shoot them all."
What happened in the next few moments occurred so fast, and in such a frenzy that Ghent's mind only barely registered what happened at all. He opened fire at the five aliens who still stood at the end of the room. He didn't know exactly how to check a pulse on any of these aliens so he simply made sure that he spent three or four blaster bolts on each one. No humanoid body that he knew of could withstand that kind of punishment. As he began, he saw Corva stand up and move to stop him even as the second of her children, the Givin, fell limp to the ground. He saw Petothel change her aim slightly to aim at Corva. The first of the Verpine hit the ground. He had never seen anybody draw a weapon so fast, the human male drew what appeared to be a modified Bryar pistol and opened fire at Petothel. His face was cold and emotionless, as if gunning down this woman took no more effort than shooting a wild animal. The man's blaster fired six times, flinging Petothel backwards, slamming her against the metal wall. The last of the aliens screamed in pain as the blaster bolts tore into him. Corva was screaming at him to stop firing, begging him to stop. The human was swinging his blaster towards him, trying to get him to stop, maybe in enough time to save one of them.
He was too slow. Ghent spent the last of the energy clip in his blaster pistol firing at the male. He dropped to the ground, his nerveless fingers releasing the blaster pistol before he had a chance to fire. He slumped to the ground, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The sickeningly sweet smell of burning flesh filled the room.
"Ms. Corva, you have two family members left. If you wish to keep them, I suggest you come with me."
She did not have tears in her eyes. Instead, she looked at him with a defiant fury, as if daring him to shoot.
"Choose the daughter you'd like to see die first." He aimed at the youngest daughter. The two daughters were whimpering uncontrolably. They had just witnessed in five minutes more violence than some people witness in their whole lives.
Corva nodded, defeated.
Ghent took a step backwards, and gestured for her to walk through the door. She stopped at the doorway, looking at the unmoving body of Gara Petothel. Ghent could see the tension building in her body he could almost feel the white-hot anger burning within her, flowing out of every pore and orifice.
"You bitch." She kicked Petothlel's body generously in the side. She then stood over her, punching the corpse in the face over and over again, "you traitorous, treasonous bitch."
"Now, Ms Corva." He gestured at the door.
Corva stood, gathering whatever composure she could around her, and walked out.
Ghent's transport was a yt-2000 modified for passenger transportation. As it blasted free of Hoth's atmosphere, the pilot was already making the calculations for a hyperspace jump. Corva and her daughters had been remarkably silent during the trip to the transport. Probably still recovering from the emotional lashing they'd received.
"Whmis?" He spoke to the pilot.
"Sir?"
"The data file I gave you, you may as well delete it. It's useless now." He had promised that he wouldn't turn Petothel in on this trip, and he was a man of his word.
"Yes, sir."
"How long to Corellia?"
"Three hours, give or take a little. As soon as we're clear of the gravity well, I'll make the jump."
"Keep me posted."
"Yes, sir."
Ghent turned away to leave.
"Um, sir?"
"What now?"
"We have a bit of a problem." Whmis pointed through the conical canopy at the large craft which became visible just as the craft cleared the atmosphere.
"What is that?" It looked like a Corellian Corvette, but not in any configuration he'd ever seen.
"They're contacting us."
"Let me hear them."
"…—identified transport vessel, please acknowledge and identify yourself immediately. Repeat: unidentified transport vessel, please acknowledge and identify yourself immediately." The almost mechanical voice sounded over the speakers.
"This is the yt2000 passenger freighter Silent Runner. To whom am I speaking?"
"This is commander Narrol of the Imperial Navy," the voice replied.
Ghent frowned, "A little out of your neighborhood, aren't you?"
"Our 'neighborhood,' as you put it, is no concern of yours. Our orders come from Warlord Zsinj himself."
He couldn't help but smile, "You're too late. We have Corva and will be delivering her to her father."
The tone of the voice changed, "You will prepare to be boarded."
"Sir, they have a tractor beam on us." Whmis announced.
"Can we break it?"
Whmis shook his head.
Ghent looked at the mammoth craft before them, his mind racing furiously, "Okay, let them take us in."
"Sir?"
"Trust me, Whmis."
"Yes, sir."
The Runner slid smoothly into the small fighter bay in the nose of the Corvette. It was a tight fit, but the Runner was a relatively small freighter. It settled gently to the floor.
"You and your daughters, come with me." Ghent gestured at Corva with his blaster. She stood, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. He couldn't claim that he knew Logos Corva all that well on a personal level, all of their dealings had been strictly professional, but if the idea of being a prisoner of the Imperial Navy struck her as being a better option…
He pushed the three young women down the loading ramp, pushing them outside. Two lines of Imperial Stormtroopers stood flanking a man he assumed was Commander Narrol.
"You will hand over the fugitives immediately." It was Narrol alright.
"Or else?"
"You're in no position to negotiate you impudent fool. Hand them over, and you may leave."
Ghent nodded, "That's a pretty good offer, but I have a better one."
"And what is that?"
He pulled his hand away from behind his back holding a large, very nasty limpet mine. The troopers, along with Narrol automatically reeled back from it. He took advantage of their hesitation to drop it, allowing it to fasten itself firmly to the metal bulkhead.
"There's enough of a charge in that mine to make this fighter bay unusable for months, not to mention enough to kill everybody in this room. I have the detonator in my hand. How much do you want to bet that I can set off that mine after you shoot me, and before I die?"
Narrol looked at him, his lips pressing together into a thin line. He was struggling to control his anger.
"So here's my counter offer. You let us go, and I don't detonate this mine. If I so much as feel you think about following us, I detonate. How does that appeal to you?"
Narrol had no cards left to play, and he knew it. He could shoot Minos and her daughters, but then he would have no prize to offer. He could shoot Ghent, but then they would all die. Even if he let him go, then got him in a tractor beam again, Ghent would detonate, and even if that didn't break the tractor beam, their ship would be crippled.
"Men, stand down." He waved his hand at the storm troopers, they all lowered their weapons. "You may go," he announced, "pray that you don't cross our path again."
"No!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Ghent caught a blur of movement. He turned to see Minos rushing him, her fists balled. One, she applied generously to his stomach, while the other impacted savagely with his nose. In a flash, she smoothly pulled the blaster from his hand and swung it to aim at the closest target; one of the stormtroopers.
She fired four shots, downing the trooper effortlessly, she then turned the pistol to aim at Narrol. The troopers, trained above all else to protect their superior officers, opened fire at Corva and the two girls. The screams from all three were buried under a hail of blaster fire as they were flung ungracefully to the ground.
"Stop firing, for the love of the Empire!" Narrol shouted.
Ghent looked down at the bodies. He didn't need to look hard to see that all three were fatally wounded. Minos, lying on her back, her eyes closed, had a tight circle of smoking wounds around her heart. The two daughters had been shot somewhat more sporadically but the number and location of the wounds was no less fatal. Ironically enough, Minos had saved his life by beating him out of the direct line of fire.
"It looks," Narrol told him, "as if neither one of us has a prize to offer."
Ghent nodded. That was not entirely true. Minos and her two daughters were worth quite a bit dead, and since he could not be blamed for the Imperials bringing him in, he would remain blameless.
"You will leave now."
Ghent nodded again. He walked to the three bodies. His blaster lay centimeters from Minos' hand. He recovered it, and returned it to its holster. Gingerly, he reached down for a pulse, knowing that he wouldn't find one. He considered taking the bodies to provide proof to Corva when he saw him, but he wasn't willing to try Narrol's patience any more than he had to. The holorecorder on the bottom of the Runner would provide sufficient evidence for Corva. He nodded respectfully to Narrol, then calmly stalked his way back up the ramp.
"One last thing." Narrol's voice sounded out.
Ghent turned around.
"Take that with you." He gestured at the limpet mine.
Ghent nodded. It did Narrol no good to shoot him now. He kneeled and disarmed the mine.
"When I said that you should pray we never cross paths again, I meant it. Next time, I will not hesitate to destroy your craft."
Ghent nodded.
"That will be all."
The Runner lifted off a moment later.