Chapter 14
"Nightwing Klatt," Padmé presented her ID card to the trooper with a bored air, holding it in two fingers as if she couldn't care less if they believed her. "I was told you had a job for me?"
She'd changed her appearance some. The trail worn Padmé Naberrie had disappeared to be replaced with an exotic woman of similar height if nothing else. Her jacket, reversible for situations like this, was now a slightly silvery gray material that looked more expensive than it was. Her pants had been washed and sprayed with the lycra paint she'd found in the shack, giving them blue strips from knee to hip. She'd fastened her boots on under her pants before spraying, making them look like half-boots, and brushed the dust from their coating.
She looked polished and suave; a competent rogue.
In addition, she'd bleached her hair for as long as she was able before Hulgar's return, leaving her with a dark blonde appearance that bordered somewhere between blonde and brown. Excluding, of course, what were her trademark brown streaks that fell in front of her ears; the source of Nightwing's name.
The trooper scanned her ID card and then waved her through. "The Anosian says you're a decent pilot; we need you to move that freighter to the impound port. We'd do it, but the Anosian says he's personally responsible for the ship; you're our compromise."
"As long as I'm paid well, I don't care what you've got me flying, sugar." She winked at the guard before striding past him. Her legs stretched to their very limits to increase her pace and her walk, lending it an entirely different appearance and a swagger that was trademark to her alter ego. It was always the little things people picked up on.
She strode straight to Hulgar, unable to hide the twinkle in her eye at his still shocked appearance by her new look. She spoke normally, certain they were being watched. "The troopers say you're the one they hired me for. I take half payment now and half when I'm done or no deal."
Hulgar nodded wordlessly, as if he didn't trust himself to speak, and handed her a datacard. She imprinted her thumb on the payment spot and then smiled pleasantly. "Where's this hunlk you want me to move?"
Hulgar waved weakly to the hanger door where she'd landed the Blue Skies at the beginning of this disastrous adventure. She thanked him curtly before striding quickly towards the door.
She almost made it.
"You there!"
Padmé didn't pause until the sound came closer, keeping her eyes on the door, her identification card in hand.
"You! Woman, what are you doing here?"
Padmé looked up with a laconic smile on her face, feigning innocence. "Were you talking to me?"
The intelligence Officer that stood before her held his hand out. "Identification; this is a restricted area!"
"I'm the pilot that Anosian wanted to move this ship. Is there a problem?"
"This area's restricted; Identification." The order was practically snapped.
Padmé felt the first stirrings of apprehension as she handed over the identification card. "If this is how you treat all the hired help, I can understand why we're so pricey!"
The Intelligence Officer wasn't impressed by her wit and carefully examined the credentials. He perused them thoroughly, reading, not just skimming, as the guard at the door had. She wasn't nervous; Nightwing's back history had been well fleshed out and there were certain instances where she had used the alias in other runs so she could answer about the history readily.
But that wasn't the point. The Officer was taking so long that Padmé cocked one hip and put on her annoyed face. "Do you mind? I'd like to get paid today."
"I have a warrant for outstanding tickets in this system, Ms. Klatt." The Officer's smile was almost malicious. "I'm afraid whatever you're making on this job is going to have to be routed back to our coffers."
"What!?" Padmé exploded in typical Nightwing fashion; not something she'd have done as herself. She glared at the Officer. "I demand to see those tickets right now; I paid off the last of them when I was last here."
"And when was that, exactly?"
She tapped the pad he held. "Almost two years ago. Until that backstabbing traitor of an Alwari ruined my last run! That slimy, no good thief caused me a lot of grief with some long time customers!"
The Officer glanced down at the pad, confirming the information and then handed her back the identicard. "Ms. Klatt, I'm going to have to ask that you see me immediately after you move that vessel. There's been some other strangeness since your last appearance that certain shop owners would like cleared up."
Padmé pocketed the ID. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't think you're going to be taking my payment without a fight."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
The Officer nodded once and then turned away, continuing on his way. Padmé frowned at his back, slipping the ID card back into its place. Nightwing was supposed to be a clear ID. From the sound of it, she'd made a mistake, a big mistake, the last time she was here. One that was going to cause Nightwing's retirement - or disappearance. She turned back to the door and palmed it open, stepping into the same dock where she'd parked her beloved Blue Skies and looked at it critically.
No damage from the outside was visible, and no strange lumps on the hull. Using the codes she knew by heart, she keyed open the hatch and stepped inside.
Phase one complete. Now Skywalker just had to come through or this would all be for naught.
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Padmé landed the Blue Skies in the impound lot with barely a whisper. "Control, this is Blue Skies. Transfer to impound completed."
"Blue Skies, this is control. Power down and prepare for inspection."
"Roger." Padmé spun the engines down to low, but didn't turn them off completely as she went through the post flight check, deliberately taking her time.
Five minutes passed, then six before the control tower broke in over the line. "Blue Skies, this is control. What's taking so long?"
"I was told this was a delicate job; the post flight op is a little trickier than I'm used to. Just give me a couple of minutes and I should be done."
"Do you require assistance?"
"Negative. The ship just has more spin down cycles than a cyclone on a lake."
"Interesting; you've seen one have you?"
Padmé chuckled. "I've seen lots of things, sweetie. Cyclones are just half the fun. I'll report in when I'm finished. Blue Skies out."
She switched the comm off, sitting back in her chair as she placed her booted feet on her control panel. She mentally counted off the minutes. Eight minutes. Nine Minutes. Ten minutes.
Show time.
She pushed out of her chair, heading back down towards the main hold and the exit into the landing bay. She paused, keying the door open to the sound of blaster fire and a humming lightsaber. She un-holstered her blaster and ducked down onto the ramp.
The security forces were crouched with their backs to her, covered from the front as they fired at something beyond her line of vision. She couldn't see him yet, but the sound of Anakin's lightsaber slashing through the air and redirecting their blaster bolts was enough for her to guess his location.
She sighted along her barrel and waited.
Anakin's lightsaber flashed into view, and several of the officers broke and ran. From her cover in the shadows, Padmé scrutinized each one. She carefully examined their faces, looking for anyone familiar. Finally, Anakin was deflecting several more bolts coming his way from beyond the doorway, forcing him back, when Padmé saw what she was looking for.
There, in the shadows of the bay towards the back, was a familiar face. One she'd cultivated carefully, treated like family, and here he was sighting at her down the barrel of a blaster. She shook her head, turning, and snapped off a round. "Give it up, Hulgar; I know you betrayed me for a price."
The Anosian ducked behind cover, the bolt coming perilously close to his face. "I'm watching your back, Captain Naberrie; I'd never betray you."
Her lips thinned in a tight line. That settled it. If he had been watching her back, he'd have never blown her cover. "Skywalker!"
"A little busy, Captain."
"Well get unbusy - fast!"
Anakin swung his blade in a circle, deflecting bolts back towards the door. "Easy for you to say; you're not the one holding off half the garrison by yourself."
Padmé kept her gaze on Hulgar's hiding place before splitting her attention for a moment and snapping off a round towards the door. Her aim was true and the bolt struck the door controls, blasting into it in a shower of sparks. The door closed with a snap, leaving just those security personnel in the bay and Hulgar.
Padmé turned, but not quickly enough, as a blaster bolt tore through her shoulder. She gasped as fire raced through it, numbing her fingers and causing her to drop her blaster even as the impact spun her around and sent her to the ground.
"Padmé!"
"Anakin; look out!"
Anakin's lightsaber snapped up in time to deflect a hail of bolts from Hulgar and the security team who had joined him. He advanced slowly, foot by foot, making his way to where Padmé remained prone on the ground. "Hulgar, don't do this. You're choosing a side that can't win."
Hulgar's snort was audible over the din. "I've already chosen the winning side in the end; and they're richer than Captain Naberrie ever will be!"
Shifting her weight, she pushed herself upwards, back into her ship. The burning sensation coalesced in her chest, spreading with every breath as she groped for her blaster with her left hand. She sucked in a sharp breath, gritting her teeth as she fought against the darkness that was threatening to block her vision and send her into oblivion.
She wasn't going to die here. Not now; not at the end of another betrayal.
Her fingers encountered the smooth, cool metal of her blaster's barrel and she gripped it tightly, drawing it towards her with her finger tips. Her efforts were concealed under the constant shower of blaster fire; a shower Anakin did little to stop beyond deflecting, his every step a battle to get to her. She slid her fingers around the stock and rolled, hissing as her shoulder encountered the deck. Tears sprang to her eyes as she fought through the pain, drawing on it for strength.
Pain means life
Repeating the mantra softly, she inched back down to the very corner of the ramp where her blaster's muzzle could be snuck in. She aimed carefully, blinking back tears of agony as her shoulder injury threatened to take her with it to oblivion.
Pain means life
She reached down into her jacket pocket and pulled the highly illegal scope forth once more, moaning softly as the movement forced her to place her weight on her shoulder for a brief moment. She paused, breathing heavily as she struggled to move past it.
Pain means life
The scope slid on with a snap and she stretched out completely on the deck, sighting down the barrel. Hulgar's twisted, smiling face appeared in her sights as he peaked out of cover to fire off another shot at Anakin. Padmé waited, tasting blood as she bit the inside of her cheek in an effort to stay conscious.
Pain means life
Her finger twitched on the trigger, pulling it back slowly until it was half depressed. Hulgar ducked back behind cover and she could see his arms moving in and out of her line of sight. Then, suddenly, he was back out, his lips moving as he said something to Anakin. Something she thought was a threat. Her finger pulled back solidly and the bolt flashed from the muzzle of her blaster.
The blaster listed in her grasp and she never saw it hit the target. She was dimly aware of a scream, of Anakin yelling her name, and then nothing as everything faded to a single sensation.
Burning.
Her body was on fire, immolating in the agony of her wound as the darkness encroached on her vision. She writhed, curling towards the injury in an effort to stave off the pain.
Pain means life
The mantra echoed in her head. She didn't feel the deck moving beneath her, nor Anakin's arms as they scooped her up to hold her tightly against his chest. She didn't feel anything except the slow, all consuming flame that was spreading through her body and threatening to send her spiraling into oblivion.
Anakin's voice penetrated the haze. "Stay with me, Padmé. Don't you dare die on me."
Die on him? She would have laughed if she hadn't hurt so much. She wouldn't dream of it; he had a promise to keep.