Leonia Tavira stood on the bridge of her star destroyer and watched the blue-white blur of hyperspace whip by outside the broad forward viewport. The bridge behind her was quiet, the crew pits only a quarter-full. It had been a long time since Invidious had been as fully staffed as she'd been designed for. The addition of slave circuitry and automated systems made up for much of the loss, but her great vessel still felt hollow much of the time.
It hadn't been that way in the beginning. It was hard to believe it had been almost twenty years since she stole the ship from Warlord Teradoc's fleet; at the time it had felt the fulfillment of all her dreams. With a mighty star destroyer to call her own she'd mustered the biggest, most lethal pirate fleet in the entire galaxy to do her bidding.
It had been a glorious time, until the Jedi and the New Republic ruined it all. She still loved Invidious more than anything in the galaxy, but twenty years had worn both her and her ship. She knew she'd never recapture the bright flame she'd had when both she and her lovely ship had been young, but she hoped that now, after so many years of scraping by, her fortunes were about to turn.
She might even get some revenge against the Republic for what they'd done to her.
Tavira glanced at her wrist chronometer, then asked, "Captain Oskvarek, are we ready to revert to real-space?"
"Thirty seconds, Admiral." called her Trandoshan commander from the crew pit.
The Invidious crew was a motley assemblage of beings from all corners of the galaxy, a melange of rouges and misfits and fortune-seekers. Almost none of them would have ever been judged fit to wear an Imperial uniform; Oskvarek had an old-style rank badge pinned to the chest of his green jumpsuit designating him as the destroyer's commanding officer, while Tavira herself wore an admiral's badge attached the to green vest she wore unbuttoned above her black trousers. Even if they no longer wore uniforms, she insisted on keeping the old command structure intact. A crew like this needed something to instill discipline, after all.
Tavira stepped closer to the viewport and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. She waited, waited, until the hyperspace-blur dissolved into nothing, revealing a panorama of stars drifting through black space.
And, just as promised, a single Corellian corvette hung in the distance off their starboard bow.
"Are they hailing us, Captain?"
After a moment, Oskvarek said, "Yes, Admiral. They're transmitting the encrypted ident code."
"Does it pass?"
"Yes it does."
"Good. Tell them to dock at our primary hangar. Get ready to transfer our cargo."
"They're asking if you'll meet with them personally."
"Of course." She smiled a coyly. "I want to make sure they pay."
Pedric Cuf had already departed for Bavinyar, and while a part of Tavira missed his presence, she was glad he wasn't here for this. She took the lift tube down to the deck level and marched the rest of the way there. Her two Togorian bodyguards, Grovlith and Argriss, were waiting for her at the entry to the hangar deck. Grovlith was brown-furred and Argriss black; each towered a full meter over Tavira's head. Each touted a blaster carbine that was almost an intimidating at his long-fanged face. She didn't expect her new clients to start any trouble, but it they did, Grovlith and Argriss could surely take care of it.
She waved for them to fall in behind her, and they did. The three of them marched across the landing deck, past the rows of T-wings, Headhunters, and other miss-matched craft that made up Invidious's fighter wing. The corvette had been pulled inside the destroyer's largest berth and hung from the ceiling; walkways extended to its airlocks and as Tavira approached she could see three Cereans stepping out of the forward hatch.
The Cereans waited for her on the walkway. If they were intimidated by the sight of one small human woman and two massive Togorians, they did a good job of hiding it.
"Are you Sar-Ekh-Marr?" she asked the Cerean in the lead.
"I am." He bowed his cone-shaped head. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."
"The pleasure is mine, assuming you have our payment."
"I do." Sar-Ekh-Marr withdrew a credit chip from his breast pocket. Tavira took it, drew out a reader from the inside of her vest, and slid the chip in.
"You now have full access to the credit account," the Cerean said.
"It appears I do." Tavira smiled and placed the reader and chip both back inside her vest. "I must say, I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd be able to get the money I was asking for. Your organization must have influential backers."
"We have allies," Sar-Ekh-Marr said vaguely.
"I'm sure you do. Give Palt-Ri-gen my regards, and my congratulations on his ingenuity. We've been hearing so much about your, ah, opposite number that I wasn't sure what to make of you."
The Cerean didn't look eager to chat. "When will our cargo be delivered?"
"Right now." Tavira raised a hand and snapped her fingers. Crewmen watching from other parts of the hangar stirred to motion, and a docking tube extended toward the corvette's aft cargo hatch.
Sar-Ekh-Marr nodded to one of the Cereans behind him. The man nodded back and ducked inside his ship, probably to oversee the reception of their weapons shipment.
"I have to say, "Tavira added, "Your timing could not be better. I imagine your opposite numbers will be arming up after what just happened."
"The BIL will get overconfident now that they've made their woman prime minister," Sar-Ekh-Marr said. "It will make them vulnerable."
"Well, I'm sure your people will keep the humans in their place."
"Indeed." The Cerean's eyes darted up and down her human form.
"If you find yourself in need of more weapons, you know how to contact me." Tavira spread her arms. "I assure you, I guarantee my clients' satisfaction."
"I'm sure you do," Sar-Ekh-Marr grunted. He turned to the other Cerean behind him and muttered something in his native tongue. The other one said something back. Sar-Ekh-Marr finally turned back to Tavira and said, "We'll be going back to check the shipment now."
"Of course. Take all the time you need."
In the end, the members of the Cerean Patriotic Front were thorough indeed. They took almost five hours to check every crate in their shipment. When they were done they seemed eager to detach from Invidious' docking clamps, slip into space, and jump back to their homeworld. As she watched their ship wink into hyperspace from her private cabin, she wondered whether Sar-Ekh-Marr or Pedric Cuf would put their purchases in action first.
After the ship was clear, Oskvarek came to see her. By that time Tavira had slipped off her boots and vest and after she poured two glasses of Tralian whiskey, she slipped across the deck on bare feet handed one glass to the Trandoshan as he sank down into a soft chair. Oskvarek's three-clawed hand wrapped awk-wardly around it, but he was able to tip it back and pour the drink down his toothy mouth.
Tavira sipped her own glass and walked over to the viewport. She said, "I know you have some objections, Captain. Out with them."
"Not objections. Thoughts."
"Tell me your thoughts, then."
"I'm not sure it's wise to try and sell to both sides of this fight. If they find out-"
"We have a star destroyer, Oskvarek," she chuckled. "They're just two piddling rebel groups hacking away at eachother on a backwater."
"They could report us to the Republic."
It was a risk, she had to admit, but she waved it aside. "We're finally making a profit again. I'm willing to take that chance. Besides, the Republic is going to have a much bigger mess on its hands very soon."
Oskvarek grunted, unconvinced, and drank a little more.
"I should also remind you," Tavira said, "That we're not sending them the same shipments. The humans as getting weapons from our friends in the Republic, and the Cereans are getting old hardware from the Intimidator. Believe me, I have thought this through."
"I know," the Trandoshan said.
The Bavinyari humans hated the Empire with a passion and would never have accepted its weapons, which was why Tavira had had to make an arrangement with pliable members of the Republic military. She was still a little surprised the BIL would buy from an ex-Imperial's star destroyer in the first place, but Pedric Cuf seemed to be a very pragmatic terrorist. Likely he wasn't even telling his compatriots where he got his hardware from. As for the Cerean Patriotic Front, it was a lot smaller, and it needed anything it could get.
Invidious had long since worn out its initial Imperial war material, but five years back an information broker named Rev Lessex had directed Tavira to a shocking find: the ruins hulk of the super star destroyer Intimidator, once the flagship of the Empire's Black Sword Fleet, drifting derelict on the edge of uncharted space. Despite all the damage it had taken, there was still plenty in the vessel worth pillaging. Most of Invidious' turbolaser emplacements had been pried off Intimidator, to say nothing of all the munitions and small arms they'd acquired and gradually started selling off.
"Trust me, Captain," Tavira told Oskvarek, "We can work both sides of this conflict and make our operation what it once was."
"And sow chaos in the New Republic too, right?"
She licked her lips and said, "Captain, that's the best part of all."
-{}-
Both Iella Wessiri Antilles and her husband had retired from the New Republic's services after the end of the war with the Empire, and at first, they hadn't been entirely sure what they would do with themselves when they weren't constantly shouldering the weight of the galaxy. It had been a rather giddy feeling at first; then a boring one. Finally, reality had set in, the kind of reality most beings in the galaxy took for granted.
For his part, Wedge kept himself busy. As one of the Republic's most decorated war heroes, he had a lot of people asking him to give speeches, share expertise, or just generally cast light for them to bask in. Iella didn't begrudge her more famous husband any of it; the day after they set down to watch the ill-timed presidential debates, Wedge caught a hopper over to the other side of Corellia to give a speech at the agricultural university, and the day after that he got on a shuttle and flew out to the CEC construction yards located over Tralus where he'd stay for a two-day gig as consultant on the new starfighter design project the company was working on.
As for Iella, she had Myri and Syal to take care of. Which mostly just meant Myri, since Syal at seven was turning into a little adult, maybe a little too fast. Two days after the presidential debate, when Wedge was off at the shipyards and her old friends and coworkers on Coruscant were dealing with the latest crisis, Iella was dropping her daughters off at school. Which was just fine by her.
She waved goodbye to her daughters behind the wheel of her airspeeder and watched as Myri and Syal both joined the flow of backpack-laden kids marching gloomily into the maw of their school building. Some things, she reflected, never changed.
As usual, she waited until they'd both disappeared inside the building, then turning her attention forward and fired up the speeder's waiting engines. Her hand froze on the throttle; a small piece of paper flimsy, as big as her palm, was stuck to the windscreen of her speeder. She couldn't tell how it had been stuck on, but there it was, edges fluttering in the breeze. She got out of her speeder, went over to the front, and easily pulled the flimsy off. In simply typed words, the paper listed an address and a time.
Iella was almost five years out of the spy game and had no desire to go back. She crumpled the paper in her fist and got back into the speeder. She wanted to fire the engines, fly back home, and stay there until school was done, but she knew she couldn't. She opened her fist and stared at the message, still clear on the crumpled page. Someone must have gone to great lengths to shadow her and pin that message to the windscreen of her speeder in the thirty seconds or so when her attention was elsewhere. They'd used a drone, maybe. She looked up at the clear sky and saw nothing. She sighed and looked back at the paper. She recognized the address. It was one of the side streets that branched off Treasure Ship Row in Coronet City's biggest pleasure district. The time was in the early afternoon, when the lunch crowds were still going strong but before the lights went up and things got rowdy in the evening. Also, she realized, it was before Myri and Syal needed pickup from school.
Iella had no idea who was shadowing her, but she decided she didn't like them at all.
She also knew she had little choice but to show up. She had enough time, at least, to spin back around to the condominium. She went into the bedroom and found the small hold-out blaster and under-arm holster she hadn't put on in close to a decade. She put them on, plus a light jacket to hide them. She stood for a moment in the mirror of her refresher, staring at herself, at her clothes, her hair, her face, and wondered how in the nine hells she'd come around to doing this again.
Of course, there was only one way to find out.
She showed up at the address twenty minutes early in order to scout the area. It was, all things considered, an unremarkable example of the kind of drinking establish-ments in this part of town. There was a long bar-counter along wall and a four-armer server droid sliding out drinks to a modest mid-day crowd as well as a series of small round tables along the opposite wall. After giving the pub a short look-over she went back outside, walked two loops around the surrounding city block without seeing anything unusual, and went back inside. After taking a seat at the furthest table from the door, with her back to the wall, a short Drallish server came over and asked her pleasure. Iella politely ordered the cheapest, least alcoholic thing they had and set herself to waiting.
She scanned the crowd at the bar and at the tables as surreptitiously as she could. None of them seemed to be glancing in her direction, sneakily or otherwise. The establishment had a pretty even mix of species: humans, Dralls, a single Selonian, two Duros, three squat Bimm, and one from a near-human species she couldn't recognize. A shadow briefly flitted over the sun-bright doorway; then a tall human stepped inside. From the far side of the room it was hard to tell, but Iella thought he paused to take in the scene with a swipe of the eyes. Iella tensed for a moment; then he walked straight to the bar.
Iella was in middle of letting out a breath when someone dropped down beside her. She nearly jumped out of the chair but froze with her palms on the tabletop. She was looking at a Bothan, all black fur, wearing a similarly dark tunic in a female cut. Daylight fell through the window, gleamed in her violet eyes, and suddenly Iella understood.
"Oh, Asyr," Iella panted as she sunk back into her chair. "I can't believe it's you."
The Bothan woman leaned over the table. Her gaze was intent but a little smile peeled back her lips, exposing sharp white canines. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
Ten, almost fifteen years, Iella wanted to say. Asyr Sei'lar had once flown under Wedge in Rogue Squadron. She'd become very close with the squadron's current leader, Gavin Darklighter, which drew threats from Borsk Fey'lya and other Bothans who were disgusted by her relationship with a human. Asyr had never been one to bow to social norms, but Fey'lya wasn't an enemy to take lightly.
After being severely wounded and presumed killed on a mission, Asyr had decided to stay dead and take a new identity in a new place, working behind the scenes to change Bothan society for the better. Iella was one of the few people who knew that; even Wedge and Gavin still believed Asyr Sei'lar had died at Distna. It was one of the few secrets she still kept from Wedge.
"I had no idea it was you," Iella admitted. "I mean, I never thought I'd see you again."
"No offense, but I never thought I'd see you again either," Asyr said. Her voice was soft, almost wistful.
This wasn't going to be a happy meeting, though. Iella could tell. She blew out a breath. "If you went to all the trouble to track me the way you did, this has to be something important, right?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Asyr, you know I'll help you any way I can, but I'm retired. I'm not with NRI anymore."
"But you still know some people on Coruscant, don't you?"
"Some," she admitted, "But I'm not in the position to just call in any favor you need."
"I understand," Asyr nodded. "I'm not expecting miracles, just a little help."
Iella nodded. "All right. What did you come for?"
"You've been following the situation on Bavinyar, haven't you?"
"Reluctantly, yes."
"Then you know Bavinyar's human separatists are suspected of killing their Cerean prime minister."
"I don't think there's proof yet."
"No. That's why I need help."
Iella frowned. "Asyr, I'm sure NRI's looking into this better than you or I can. And what does it matter to you?"
"Because," she said, "I think they're being supplied by Borsk Fey'lya."
Iella stared. When she realized her jaw was hanging open she snapped in shut, then cautiously, quietly, asked, "What makes you think that?"
"Think about it, Iella. This situation could easily ruin Behn-Kihl-Nahm's status as front-runner for the election. If he washes out, that position is Fey'lya's for the taking."
"Doing something like that would be treason. Fey'lya's a lot of things- a lot- but he's never been an outright traitor."
"He wouldn't even see it like that. He'd twist things around in his head so he could tell himself he's doing things for the greater good. Trust me, Iella. I know how he thinks."
"Asyr, do you have any evidence of this? Any at all?"
"Some. Even before the assassination, I was tracking movement of supplies and weapons within the Republic military."
Iella raised an eyebrow. "You've got a spy in the quartermaster corps?"
Asyr brushed aside the question. "The numbers don't add up. Someone is slipping off with shipments, mostly of small to medium arms. I still haven't figurd out where it's coming from, but I know there's a leak."
"And you thought they were going to Bavinyar? How?"
"It's a long story," Asyr said evasively. "The point is, it's very hard to insert myself onto that planet without being noticed. Now that Bavinyar's getting attention from all over the galaxy, a Bothan isn't going to look as weird walking around with all those humans and Cereans."
Iella frowned. "You want to go there… as a spy?"
"Exactly. Iella, I'm going to need your help with this. I'm going to need to pass as an NRI agent."
"If you're talking about false identification, I'm sorry." she shook her head. "That's all kinds of illegal, Asyr. I could go to jail for that. And it's not like before. I have a husband, I have two daughters. If something happened to me, then they'd..."
Asyr sighed through her nose and sat back in her chair. "I'm sorry, Iella. I forgot. I've been… alone in this work for so long."
"You don't have a family?"
"Nothing." Asyr wagged her head. "The kind of life I chose to lead isn't sociable. But you know what? I am fine with that, I honestly am. Because I have a greater cause."
The conviction in her voice sent a chill through Iella. Asyr had always been idealistic; it had been what had driven her to break Bothan norms and get involved with Gavin all those years ago. That Asyr had always struck Iella as being more vital for it; the one in front of her now seemed cold, gaunt, all the warmth chilled away. This Asyr had no love, just ideals to comfort her.
Iella felt pity and tried not to let it show. She reached across the table and placed a hand on Asyr's black paw.
"I'll see what I can do," she said. "But I can't promise anything."
"That's okay. That's all I ask."