Chapter 4: Strangely Convenient
A/N: Thank you so much to Forever-Luke, I Love Dance, Arya of Ellesmera, and Musings of Time for reviewing the last chapter!
Forever-Luke: Good point about the pittens! Princess Leia had a candy-pink one named AT-AV, so I think they're just the Star Wars equivalent of something small and fluffy :) I'm going to reword it right now so hopefully it will be clearer. Thanks for telling me!
". . . number one hundred. It's better to bring your bounty back dead because if you get caught, it's easier for your lawyer to get you jury sympathy for six counts of murder in the first degree than it is for delivering a prisoner to Admiral Talinia."
Minna Arcansite finished the list with a superior note in her voice. Luke knew she was probably enjoying the dazed look of disbelief on his face, even though it was just the slightest bit possible that the dazed part might have been caused more by the head trauma (courtesy of Minna's blaster) than his being overcome by admiration at her dazzling creative writing skills.
For his part, Luke was beginning to wonder when this oh-so-kind Admiral the bounty hunter kept referring to would grace the scene.
Minna resumed speaking. "And now, time for the next one. This list is titled '100 Things I'm Going to Do With the Reward Money From Your Capture'. I trust you'll find this one just as emotionally uplifting as the last." Minna punctuated the mood with a condescending sneer. "Shall I begin?" she asked rhetorically.
Luke unwisely decided to give her a few mental suggestions.
Number one. You're going to buy a thousand credit's worth of stuffed animal Wampas, donate them to the nearest children's hospital, and get them to put a plaque there in my honor. Did he just think that? Thankfully, he didn't actually say it aloud.
Number two. When I'm pronounced dead by the New Republic, you're going to buy a Yoda doll, decapitate it, and throw it into my shiny new memorial fountain. Luke wasn't typically one for dry humor, but he wasn't feeling very charitable toward her right now. His head was throbbing. And the stun cuffs crackled with electricity every time he so much as twitched an eyelid.
Number three. You're going to buy the full computerized 1200 piece Rebels vs. Imperials action figure set and set it on perpetual autopilot, but the Imperials are always going to win. Or, maybe it was some effect induced by whatever substance she had used to knock him out.
Number four. You're going to buy the "Adventures of Luke Skywalker Coloring Book" and you're going to have your niece or nephew color in all of my pictures with a shade of blue that doesn't match my eyes. Force, he had spent too much time around Janson lately.
Or around lunatic bounty hunters with one-hundred ways to make a prisoner miserable. And then some.
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As Minna finished the list, she was treated to a full ten seconds of dumbfounded silence before Skywalker made an odd choking sound that Minna would have probably put down to horror and dismay had not Skywalker suddenly burst in to laughter. She scowled.
She probably doesn't realize the imminent threat of being held prisoner and being interrogated by Admiral Talinia is amusing. Actually, Luke didn't usually find it very amusing either. What exactly did she drug me with?
Minna had just affected a threatening disposition when the ship's entry door slid down. Viin Nord stepped through, followed by Admiral Talinia.
Unfortunately, he hadn't yet noticed the newcomers and failed to stop shaking with hysteria until Minna kicked him in the ribs. This action elicited a pained silence from Luke, an anxious look from the Admiral, and a glare from Viin.
This was turning out to be a great day.
Wedge Antilles blinked and looked around the room. The others sitting around the table appeared to be just as disoriented as Wedge was feeling. The notable exception was Leia, who had apparently perfected her trying-not-to-say-I-told-you-so look.
Corran shook off the dizziness and nausea and grinned. "Well, now we've got one lead." He evidently agreed with Leia.
"All we know is that Skywalker had a stalker. That's very useful." Booster said sardonically. "All X-wing jocks do, I'm sure. Even you probably have one, Horn."
Wedge knew that Corran could never just ignore that insult. "Booster, I would have thought evena smuggler like you would find it a little bit too coincidental that this stalker purely by chance just happened to be meeting with the bounty hunter that captured Luke which happened to be very shortly before he happened to disappear! And all this happened to be after Luke felt her plotting against him."
"Horn, I thought a smart and reliable—" Booster spoke with a level of sarcasm Wedge previously thought unattainable, "—CorSec officer like you would realize that's quite a few assumptions. But even if we accept all of that as fact, how are we supposed to identify this alleged conspirator? All we saw was a cloak! Vocal analysis isn't going to kriffing work on the Force."
"Booster, Luke had seen this woman's face. If we find the right memory—"
"Then what, Horn? The population of Coruscant numbers more than a trillion. And who says she returned? How are we supposed to find her? She could be anywhere."
Corran looked about to form a scathing reply, but Wedge cut him off. "Booster, you're right. It is a long shot." Before Booster could rub it in Corran's face, he added, "But it's the only promising lead we have." And besides, Wedge added mentally. We all know that you're only arguing about it because Corran views smugglers as swaggering drunks who steal candy from young children and Booster views CorSec officers as sanctimonious preaching know-it-alls who shove their mistaken beliefs down everyone else's throats.
Leia nodded. "It's still possible that one of us could recognize her. Luke doesn't exactly travel much around Coruscant. There's too much for him to do; he mostly sticks around NRI headquarters when he's onplanet. Now, shall we view another memory?"
Wes Janson groaned. "Your highness, if we view another memory, I'm going to throw up. Can we please take a break?" Wedge was feeling the world spin a little himself.
Leia considered this, and agreed. "I have to meet with the Committee for the Assessment of Education Standards anyway. Senator Fey'lya is going to murder me if I skip another meeting. Shall we meet again in two hours? Same place?"
Nobody voiced an objection. As Wedge was walking out the door, he heard Wes loudly ask Hobbie what he was doing with a water blaster under his chair.
It would logically follow that a good bounty hunter like Viin Nord would never choose an idiot for his partner.
The scene that met his eyes was inconceivable. He knew that Minna could be unconventional sometimes. That was an excellent characteristic for a bounty hunter. But what could possess her to keep the prisoner soaking wet, and even more worrying, laughing like a maniac? Honestly, the Admiral was going to think that they had shattered Skywalker's mind!
It was probably the overdose of kethtramine. He told Minna to check his weight first.
Nord cringed inwardly as Minna kicked Skywalker in the ribs. Skywalker did shut up, but Minna was methodically demolishing the calm, what-could-go-wrong picture that he had just spent the last twenty minutes painting in Admiral Talinia's mind. That settled it. She was obviously a few thermal detonators short of a weapons arsenal.
Nord's next thought was damage control. "Admiral, as you can see, Skywalker is still here, and perfectly safe, on my ship, just like I promised you."
Talinia glanced deliberately around the ship, her gaze drifting from the puddle of water on the floor, to drenched Skywalker, finally resting on Minna. After a moment, she turned and addressed Nord. "Is this your, ah, usual partner that I heard so much about?"
Nord was caught in a dilemma. If he blamed anything on Minna, he would have to admit that he hired her. On the other hand, if he didn't, he would have to imply that this was a normal state of events, which would be just as bad. Stang. He tried a dodge. "Admiral, would you like me to show you our state-of-the-art ElectroCuff 8000 restraints?" Too late, he realized that the stun cuffs on Skywalker were most definitely NOT the ElectroCuffs. And that ElectroCuffs, no matter which model, were illegal even in the Empire.
Luckily for Nord, the Admiral apparently wasn't up to date on that information. She took another weary glance around, and sighed. "I suppose it doesn't really matter." She turned to the overweight man beside her. "Call in the stormtroopers and have Skywalker taken to IR-7."
Across the room, Skywalker tensed. IR? Universal code for Interrogation Room. She spoke to Nord again. "As soon as Skywalker is safely removed, you may leave."
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Back on Coruscant, Mirax Terrik was bored. The rest of the group had left on work, most of it classified. So, Mirax was left by herself in NRI headquarters. Two hours was more than enough time to get really tired of staring at the wall, but it wasn't nearly enough to go out through security, take a glance outside, and return through security.
She checked her wrist chronometer. Fifteen standard minutes had passed. Maybe I'll go check and see if Intel has anything on Viin Nord yet. As she made her way through the levels of headquarters, Mirax was surprised at how normal things were. The press and general population weren't in an uproar (they hadn't been told), Princess Leia wasn't crying her eyes out (at least not in Mirax's presence), Cracken's daughter wasn't contemplating suicide (although Mirax hadn't actually seen her, so who knew).
But when Mirax reached the E-9 intelligence wing, normalcy definitely wasn't the first word that came to mind.
After the guards checked her security clearance and let her in, the sight that met her eyes wasn't exactly what she was expecting, which was, namely, the strict order and austerity Cracken invariably demanded from his underlings.
The first thing that did come to mind was the . . . for lack of a better word, propaganda, that was littering the hallway, in the form of posters and flyers and booklets. And oddest of all, it was decidedly anti-New Republic. Titles like "The Truth About General Solo: His Outrageous Plan to Wed a Hutt Overlord" and "The Chewbacca Conspiracy: Microtechnological Poisons" and even "Luke Skywalker's Nemoidian Embezzlement Scheme." There was a viewscreen with a giant caricature of Princess Leia in red and blue ink, the words "Organa Solo Declares Herself Deity of the Cosmic Balance" in huge blocky letters stamped across her face.
Mirax couldn't resist. She grabbed a booklet and opened it up.
The Chewbacca Conspiracy: Microtechnological Poisons
By Farsiria Adanis
Was it an innocent comment? Or is it a not-so-innocent carefully-orchestrated nefarious scheme on the part of the New Republic's government to subdue its rivals? This reporter is one-hundred percent positive that it is, in fact, the latter.
General Solo's frequent habit of telling his enemies to "Kiss [his] Wookiee!" is not a flippant insult. No, it is far more malicious than that. It is a death threat that has been all-too-often carried out successfully.
Take this example. It is well known that the feud between Han Solo and Warlord Zsinj began when Solo told Zsinj to (you guessed it) "Kiss [his] Wookiee!" Just as well known is the fact that (you guessed it again!) Zsinj ended up dead. Well, certainly, the government told us he died when his Star Destroyer blew up, but what does one expect them to say? That he was done in by a massive government conspiracy?
So now that we have firmly established our evidence, let us journey into speculation—
Mirax stopped reading at that point, giggling. She had to meet this Farsiria, although she had no idea what a tabloid journalist was doing in NRI headquarters right under Cracken's overbearing nose.
Her eyes were drawn to the striking metallic depiction of a thermal detonator on a doorway. This poster was captioned, "Thermal Detonators: Fact or Fabrication?" Before Mirax even had a chance to mull that one over, the door was flung wide open.
Standing before her was one of the most unusual woman Mirax had ever seen. If you looked past the frizzy blue hair framing her face, the thick square glasses, and the artificially yellow eyes, the woman might actually be quite pretty. She beamed at Mirax. "Do you like my poster?"
Mirax was caught off guard. This woman was not concerned that she was wandering around the highest security wing in NRI or that she caught her standing outside her door, for all she knew eavesdropping. No, all she asked about was the poster. Mirax smiled perplexedly and nodded. The woman grinned. "I'm Farsiria Adanis. And you are?"
"Mirax Terrik. I was wondering what you found on Luke's disappearance so far . . . and about your poster."
"Well, the poster is simple. I mean, haven't you ever found it strangely convenient that anybody who's ever seen a thermal detonator work ends up dead?"
Mirax shrugged. "That never really occurred to me, actually . . . ."
Farsiria nodded knowingly. "Well, Mirax, that's the problem, isn't it? Too many people don't question what's around them and just blindly follow leadership."
"May I come in?"
"Of course."
Mirax stepped through the door. The interior of the room closely matched the hallway. She couldn't see a square centimeter of bare wall that wasn't plastered over again and again with tabloid articles, political cartoons, and caricatures. Inside the room were several occupied workspaces.
"Farsiria, can you tell me if you've got anything on Viin Nord yet?"
"Sure." Farsiria handed Mirax a stack of files.
"I mean, can you paraphrase this for me?" Mirax requested.
"Basically, we don't have much on him."
"What's in this stack of files, then?" Mirax asked.
"These are the bounty profiles that Viin Nord has successfully carried out." Farsiria pointed to a bare spot on her desk. "These are the bounties he hasn't successfully carried out."
Mirax frowned. "I suppose Lord Nyax made off with them?"
Farsiria laughed. "Lord Nyax? You mean General Cracken's brother-in-law? Those two aren't on very good terms; why would security let him through? No, I meant that there aren't any failures on Nord's part."
That didn't look good. "So have you made any advances on the case?"
Farsiria looked slightly defensive. "We're now positive that the Imperials definitely have Commander Skywalker, because they dropped the bounty on him."
Mirax grimaced, even though it was expected news. "What else?"
"Um . . . we're working on it, okay?"
In his quarters on the Star Destroyer Starkiller, Baron Soontir Fel sat at his desk waiting for Admiral Talinia to summon him. Summon him, that was, to interrogate the new prisoner. He did not know the identity of the prisoner, but the Admiral had told him that they were previous acquaintances.
Fel sighed. He was a pilot. He really didn't want to interrogate anybody, especially anybody he used to know. Everyone knew that interrogation was just a euphemism for torture (in the Empire, at least), and Fel didn't like torture. He accepted it as necessary for the security of the Empire, but he didn't like that necessity.
Baron Soontir Fel had morals. Others joined the Empire for personal gain, or because they were coerced, or because they hated nonhumans. He had joined because he believed in the Empire's stability and security. There were a lot of bad things out there, and sometimes you had to make allowances for that.
The Rebels were fond of saying that if you would trade freedom for security, you didn't deserve either. Fel's version was that if you would trade the security of your wife, children, friends, and neighbors for your freedom, go join the Rebels.
Fel's comlink chimed out a few notes. It was time to make his way to IR-7 and meet the prisoner.