Disclaimer: Lemme check…ow. By the way they shouted "NO!", I guess I still don't own Star Wars or A Certain Point of View
Up in the cockpit, Imril absently checked the ship, making sure the slave controller was active. Due to the interference the nebula caused, the robo barge had to fly uncomfortably close to the Dustman. Though he had linked the two ships' controls, the barge had slower engines than his own ship and he had to be careful when turning lest he smash into it.
He sat back, foot automatically going up to rest on the console, and began to think. Thoughts of Celia entered his mind and Imril's eyes came to rest on the empty copilot's chair. Ever since the Dustman had entered his possession, no one had sat down there. For some odd reason, Hakky's joints clogged frequently and rather than risk him being stuck there, the droid usually remained in a standing position behind Imril as he flew the ship. Besides his astronavigation skills, Hakky really didn't do much with flying the ship anyway, being only a mediocre pilot and gunner. Imril wondered if Celia knew how to copilot. However, he quashed that idea almost immediately – she'd probably want to lie low when they got to Nar Shaddaa. Furthermore, she probably wouldn't take to the idea of gallivanting around the galaxy, living out of a holster and from job to job. He sighed, still unable to get the picture of her in the copilot's chair out of his mind.
So absorbed was he in the image that he didn't hear Celia come up the ladder and jumped when she put her hand on his shoulder. He turned to find her clad in the green tunic, its color accentuating the fieriness of her hair and bright eyes. The clothes showed her to be shapely and delicate but not so much to show all, merely suggesting her beauty. No dancer in slight costume could have been more beautiful than she was to Imril's mind. "Ah, what vision of beauty has brightened my life?" he teased, winking at her. "You look very pretty, Lady Durasha."
Celia slid into the copilot's seat, blushing at his comment. "Thanks for the loan of the clothes. By the way, you can call me Celia"
"Consider them yours a down payment for the use of your barge."
"Now that I think about it, I probably wouldn't get very far in a stolen ship, especially one associated with a wanted person, so consider the debt paid. You can probably claim it as salvage. If any bounty hunter sees your ship with the other in tow, they'll just assume you captured me."
"Good thinking." Imril reached into a small compartment and pulled out her blaster, handing it to her. "You're starting to think like a smuggler. You also didn't wear that dress, which is another good thing. You don't want to attract too much attention."
Celia holstered her blaster, comforted by the weight. "So, what happened after your incident with Vader and Isard? You didn't finish the story."
"Ah, yes." Imril nodded, grinning at the memory. "Fate must favor poor junior officers in hotspots because the moment the retort came from my mouth, the bridge became dead silent as quick as that." He snapped his fingers. "I could feel the eyes of everyone on me and I figured I was a goner. Goodbye dreams of captaining a Star Destroyer. Goodbye hopes of living the rest of my life with all limbs intact. But like I said before, fate was kind, even extreme." Looking over at her, Imril nodded slowly. "Vader started to laugh. Not the forced chuckle or the grim laughter of a man about to kill another, but genuine laughter that caused his respirator to crackle. Isard didn't appreciate the joke, of course, and stormed off the bridge. After that, I was known for a while throughout the fleet as 'the man who made Darth Vader laugh.' Fellow soldiers used to buy me drinks in bars, demanding that I tell them the story."
"Bet you loved that."
Throwing her a mischievous smile, he waggled his eyebrows comically. "Of course. Wouldn't you?"
They continued to talk for the next seven hours, trading stories. Celia recounted her experiences on the Kuari Princess, the passengers she had met, and some of the strange things that had happened on the passenger ship. Imril told her some more of his military stories and of the strange planets on the outer rim he had been on. More than a few of them, she didn't quite believe. "That's ridiculous!" she exploded at one point. "How could anyone crash an escape pod into the command deck of a Star Destroyer and take the captain hostage?!"
"My dear lady Durasha, the musician has his secret songs that he plays, the gambler has his instinct upon which he relies, the magician has his tricks of the trade. Therefore, a pirate like me must have a few special skills of his own. I just happened to be cursed with incredibly good fortune." Appearing to think it over, Imril corrected himself. "Well, half the time. But take now, for example. I go into the Maelstrom and find a ship to carry more of the gas in, along with a beautiful lady who can cook nerf steak. How luckier can you get?"
The grin on his face was infectious and she couldn't help but return it, shaking her head in amusement.
A low tone from the console caused Imril to sit up. "Ah. We're approaching the end of the Maelstrom. Once we are out, it's hyperspace and then, to Nar Shaddaa where the food is best in the Corellian sector, the fights are fierce in We'ryy's cantina, and you can buy the Emperor's datapad from any stinking rodian on the street." Ahead of the ship, the red curtain of the Maelstrom faded and rolled back to reveal the star-studded expanse of space.
Relief flooded through Celia, the sudden change from red to black welcome. Red had been the reminder of Adion's blood as she had slashed his arm to force him to release her. It also haunted her, the color of the bolt that had pierced Kaileel and taken a good friend from her life.
The sensors blipped warningly. Imril reached over and adjusted them. What he saw caused him to mutter something nasty under his breath. He met her eyes, looking grim. "Imperial Star Destroyer. Approaching fast with another vessel. Looks like your Imperial Intelligence friend managed to get the call out."
"Not only that." Celia felt her heart sink as she recognized the second ship. "He managed to convince the captain of the 'Princess to pull out of the Nebula early." The communications array lit up, signifying an incoming transmission. Imril punched the receive button.
"Acting Captain Adion Lang of the Kuari Princess to captain in charge of the freighter Dustman: you have in tow a robotic barge stolen from this ship by a fugitive from Imperial justice. Prepare to be boarded for questioning."
Hearing his voice made Celia flush with fury. If he so much as hurt any other friend of hers on that ship to commandeer it… Her resolve made her come to a decision and she turned to look at Imril. "You won't be able to get out of their tractor beam range in time. If you tell them you have me and you hand me over to them along with the barge, you can get away. They'll probably even give you credits like you said before."
A strange look came over Imril as he gazed back at her. He thought for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "All right," he replied. "Have it your way." He contacted the Princess. "Lang, this is Captain D'Var of the Dustman. I captured the barge along with an extremely gorgeous woman named Celia Durasha. What is she worth to you?" he asked coldly. As serious as this was, Celia couldn't help notice the "extremely gorgeous" bit and crack a smile.
Adion's voice crackled back. "Thirty thousand credits from the Empire as well as five thousand from the Kuari Cruise Line for the recovery of their barge."
Imril allowed a pleased tone enter his voice as he acknowledged. "You've got yourself a deal, Lang. Where should I drop off the lady?" Adion directed him toward a docking bridge on the Imperial ship. The Star Destroyer loomed directly overhead now, an imposing view of death-gray. Celia began to feel the first tremors of fear at the thought of the horrors that awaited her on board. Still, as she glanced at the pirate next to her, she remembered Raine and how he had died so far away while she had been able to do nothing to help. Knowing she had to do something for the man who had treated her kindly, she reluctantly unbuckled her blaster and set it on the console. The small thunk seemed to echo in the silence of the cockpit. Even more deliberately, she drew the dagger and looked at it one last time, rubbing the ebon handle, tracing the crimson jewel set in the blade. Biting her lip, Celia held it out to Imril. Slowly, he took it from her trembling hands. "I don't want those Imps to have it," she murmured.
Looking ahead at the approaching docking bay, Imril didn't move, the strange look in his eyes once more. "Celia…" he said, using her name for the first time. "If you were handed over to the Imps, what would the galaxy do without your excellent cooking?"
Not believing she had heard him right, she cocked her head, a puzzled look on her face. Another smile appeared on Imril's face, a gentle one that held no mischief. In answer to her look, he reached out a hand and punched a button on the slave controller for the robo barge. Without further warning, he yanked the controls so that the Dustman dove down and away from the barge and the docking bay. Having disengaged the synchronized controls from the slave circuit, he no longer had the robo barge following behind. Ignoring the incoming transmission from the Star Destroyer, the pirate stabbed another button on the controller.
A blinding flash lit space behind the fleeing pirate freighter as the robo barge self-destructed, spewing Nebula gas everywhere and enshrouding the bottom of the Imperial ship. The shockwave caught up with them, causing the Dustman to shiver and buck. Grimly, Imril rode it out, barking at Celia. "Punch up a route to Nar Shaddaa right now! That smoke screen won't blind their sensors forever."
The commanding tone caused her hands to override her shock at what the pirate had done. Her mind had never worked so fast, sudden adrenaline lending speed to her fingers and thoughts. The Star Destroyer had penetrated the cloud of gas and was gaining fast when she completed her calculations and nodded once to Imril. The pirate needed to second bidding, yanking back on the hyperspace levers.
For a moment, the Dustman froze, then shot forward in a flash of hyperdrive engines and was gone.
A/N: Read and review, please. Any flames will be used for hot dog roasting.