A young Imperial lieutenant marched through the angular corridors of the Star Destroyer Chimaera, broad-shouldered in a khaki uniform with a pistol at his hip, accompanied by a slender female technician with blonde hair pulled back beneath her black cap, and a body whose beauty even the badly-fitting grey jumpsuit didn't hide – and by an astromech droid with a black dome and an unusual triangular rader eye.
Fiver had joined them once they'd tied up the original wearers of their stolen uniforms and put them in a storage locker – Tahiri had done the tying, Anakin had done the locking-up. The astromech had reported that Lowie still hadn't managed to make comm contact with anyone, and the Wookiee was slicing his way through the Imperial files to try and locate a direct comm code for Admiral Pellaeon or Chimaera's bridge.
That would have to do. Right now, Anakin was certain Jaina was in trouble. Fiver had jacked himself into a computer port, and after a little conversation with the Star Destroyer's computers, the astromech had located her in a turbolift heading for the main bridge.
The trouble was that catching up with her wasn't going to be easy.
On a ship the size of Chimaera, the normal route from the hangar complex in the lower part of the main hull to the bridge levels on the upper decks of the command tower was by turbolift, but Fiver had confirmed Anakin's suspicion that there were heavy security protocols in place. The astro-droid didn't feel confident about overriding the computer security, and Anakin didn't want to risk triggering alarms by trying to use the code-cylinder key in the shoulder pocket of his stolen uniform - he doubted that an officer whose main job was flushing the latrines had automatic access to the command levels, and he didn't much feel like experimenting in the hope that he was wrong.
That meant a lot of walking, through busy corridors in which the whole crew of forty thousand Imperials seemed to be going about their business – squads of stormtroopers, TIE Pilots in flight gear, officers in black or khaki, technicians in their grey coveralls, and wide-helmet Navy Troopers. And once they'd made their way half-a-mile aft to the rear of the ship where the main engines were, they'd have to climb another half-mile up, using a dizzying number of stairs, and use mind-tricks to bluff past any guards blocking their way.
That meant at least half an hour until they caught up with Jaina, maybe more. And that didn't improve Anakin Solo's mood at all.
True, the dangerous irritation they'd sensed from Jaina earlier had subsided, replaced by a quiet mood of anticipation and curiosity, even eagerness, but the sense of relaxation from her clashed with the wider sense of danger he was feeling in the Force - her attitude seemed all wrong for the situation she was about to get herself into, like she had lowered her guard and was walking into a trap.
And that really spoiled his mood.
"You're cute when you're intense, sir," Tahiri teased.
Anakin shot her a sideways glance, but he couldn't resist a smile in answer. "Thanks, trooper," he grinned back.
That did improve his mood.
"So, what do we do now, sir?" she asked.
Anakin frowned. "Find a conference room with holocomm access," he suggested. "That way we can keep track on what Jaina's saying to Pellaeon, and maybe send a message off this scow."
Fiver warbled that he had already located the nearest comm room, and scooted ahead of them, swerving and then pivoting to disappear down a side corridor.
"Lead the way," Anakin grinned. This was starting to feel like he was getting back on track, and he could sense a matching enthusiasm from Tahiri as they swapped smiles. "With me, trooper."
"I knew we could count on you, sir."