The Capture
Of
Coh Veshiv
(Third part)
An unnamed system, near Corulag (Bormea sector)
The frigate Nebulon-B, Far Orbit emerged from hyperspace, seeming to slow down as it appeared from this parallel continuum.
In the command chair, Dhas Vedij turned to a crewman behind a console.
"Sensors? Run a standard search scan!"
"Yes, sir."
Captain Vedij turned to the Commander Air Group.
"CAG, take off a patrol of two TIEs, and let them inspect the asteroids in Sector 205."
"Here, sir!"
Leaning on his console, Captain Vedij pressed a few buttons and made a map of the Bormea Sector appear. The planetary system where the Far Orbit had jumped was an uninhabited one. On the one hand, no planet had a breathable atmosphere, and these sterile rocks were made of cheap, ordinary materials: silica, ferronickel, nothing that could interest mining companies.
The planetary system was close to the Perlemian Trading Route, the main Hyperspace Lane leaving Coruscant and crossing the Bormea Sector. Any ship leaving the Imperial Center for Corulag, Brentaal or Esseles, the main planets of the Ringali Shell, had to pass by this route.
Dhas Vedij turned to an officer sitting in front of the communication console.
« Com? Scan all frequencies commonly used by the Imperials. Look for the name "Coh Veshiv" or any mention of a vessel in transit that would be a priority or carry a distinguished guest.»
«On it, Sir»
Captain Vedij sighed and turned to Shiraz (the first mate) and Major Willak, standing behind his chair.
"Now we must be patient and hope that the Force is with us. If Coh Veshiv has already arrived on Corulag or has already left, he will escape us. Even if his ship comes close, we must know that Veshiv is on board to have a chance of catching up with him."
Dhas Vedij placed a hand on his receding hairline and shrugged in resignation. "There is not much we can do. The Far Orbit cannot, on her own, screen an entire galaxy sector. Normally, such a colossal task is entrusted to multiple reconnaissance fleets that meticulously sweep the area, moving from the edges of the search zone toward the center. Even in those cases, skilled smugglers manage to evade detection by slipping between patrols. I don't want a droid calculating the odds of successfully catching Coh Veshiv; it would be disheartening. I suspect our odds are astronomically low."
Shiraz remained stoic; it was easy for him since his Mandalorian helmet hid his face.
"I'm going to use this forced stop to train our crew. Have fun, Captain."
He waved and went out without listening to Dhas Vedij's answer. As for Cet Villak, he hesitated and finally nodded.
"I understand Captain Vedij. I will keep your explanation in mind when writing my report."
At the same time, in a corridor leading to a hangar on the stern of the Far Orbit.
Brock turned to Space Ishtar. For those who didn't know her, she was an adorable teenager in a bright yellow Cowgirl outfit using only the bare minimum of fabric... An outfit that... uh... that was about as discreet as a billboard. However, from the pirate baron's point of view, Ishtar was Far Orbit's trouble-maker number 1...
Traditionally, on a pirate ship, the Boarding Master combined this position with that of Boatswain, the officer in charge of solving the crew's problems... or rather all the problems caused by the crew. Brock had many opportunities to compare Ishtar's reputation with reality. No, she was not as unbearable as the gossip said... she was much worse.
"Well, listen to me. You go to Brentaal. Here you buy all the supplies on this list" Brock showed the Datapad he was holding "and then you come back. It's an easy, uncomplicated, job and all you are asked to do is not rock the boat»
Ishtar looked at Brock suspiciously.
"Do you think I will attempt the conquest of Brentaal just after I have landed on or set the planet on fire? I can run errands without you holding my hand, you know."
"I don't want to see you come back here pursued by the Imperials with an "Oh crap, I screw it again" as your only excuse," said the old Clonetrooper imitating Space Ishtar's voice. "I know you... Corianna. it wouldn't be the first time you'd do anything but your own way."
"One could swear you are a grandmother complaining about young people who don't respect their elders. But, if I hadn't been sneaking into their shuttle, Galiria and Vedij would have died during the New Star's hijacking."
"True, but I just want to remind you that your only mission is to bring back food. You take no initiative. Show the commander that you can follow simple instructions and be trusted. Do you understand?"
Sulking, Ishtar had crossed her arms on her chest and sighed, turning her head away.
"I get it. Another useless piece of advice? Comments on how I live my life, mommy?"
"Nothing more than coming back alive and unhurt, Corianna." He sighed before taking off his helmet. "You hate when I lecture you, kids your age always think they know everything but... Being an adult is precisely to understand that thinking before acting avoids problems. Listening to those who know what they are talking about and not doing stupid things helps you stay alive."
Brock hesitated.
"Corianna, you are a charming young teen—fun and endearing! I like you a lot. I was the one who proposed this mission to the captain because I wanted to show everyone that you can accomplish missions without being a headache-inducing loose cannon."
Ishtar blushed and turned her head away. Snatching the Datapad from the Clonetrooper's hands she ran towards the aft hangar's blast door.
"Unfair!"
How could she stay angry and in bad faith if someone said such nice things to her?
The vast hangar deck was icy. It must be said that the cosmic vacuum was held behind an atmospheric retention field. The Jumper, an old decrepit light freighter, was placed on a landing pad delimited by white paint strokes. In front of the ramp were its new crew.
Baron Brock hastened to introduce them to Space Ishtar.
The Boatswain began with a biped reptile dressed only in a utility belt with supplies and toolkits.
«Pao-Neh-Lo is a female Tiss'shar, a pirate, a fine shot, and one of our best starfighter pilots."
The alien responded with a series of upset clicks that must have been a form of language. But even without speaking it, Ishtar understood this was not a friendly greeting.
Brock introduced a second pirate by pretending not to notice the reptile's aggressive attitude. This young human male had a face and smile that seemed designed to break the heart of any woman who crossed his path. But Space Ishtar felt an instinctive repulsion toward the young man. It was a gut feeling. His handsome features seemed to have been placed on his face like a mask of seduction. As for his innocent smile... it could not be genuine... no individual who chose a pirate career could be as pure as an angel! His appearance and behavior had to be calculated to make members of the opposite gender fall for him. He was a predator, and his target was young women.
"Cemma the Younger is a quickdraw. He is fairly proficient with a blaster."
The young outlaw attempted to grab Ishtar's hand, but she pulled away, surprising Cemma greatly. Until that moment, his feigned innocence had managed to win over the girls' affections, and he had assumed that a 14-year-old would be an easy target. However, he quickly composed himself and bowed to her with exaggerated politeness.
"As Baron Brock just mentioned, my name is Cemma. I'm delighted to be traveling on a ship led by such a charming captain. I'm confident we will soon become good friends."
"I hope so," Ishtar replied in a neutral tone.
Brock gestured, designating another pirate with a humanoid upper-body, but no legs and a snake tail.
"Napvansa Tadavv is a female Sluissi engineer."
Napvansa spoke with a thick accent.
"I'm not a freighter specialist. I worked on Capital Ship thrusters before... before becoming an outlaw. I think, however, that I would give you satisfaction, I am competent."
"Thank you," said Ishtar. "I'm counting on you."
"The last man of the crew is still to be presented."
This time, Brock pointed to a potbellied male human He had a five-o'clock shadow and brown hair with some white threads.
"Mill Heswop is a spacer familiar with standard ship's procedure. He had traveled extensively."
The man smiled and waved his hand.
"Hello, I'm Mill. I'm just your ordinary crew member—competent but not extraordinary. While I do have some skills in programming and repairing computers, I wouldn't consider myself a specialist. Aside from that, I have traveled to many worlds and seen many things."
"You have been to Brentaal before," asked Ishtar.
"Unfortunately, no. This is my first stay in the Ringali Shell"
The cockpit of the Barloz-class freighter had only four seats. CeeNine the astromech droid on board the Jumper and Napvansa Tadavv had therefore remained in the crew messroom.
Sitting in the pilot's chair, Space Ishtar took off without a hitch, using only the freighter's repulsors. Then, after crossing the atmospheric retention field, she set the space thrusters on and slowly accelerated away from the Far Orbit.
After checking some indications on dials, she raised a hand, flipped several small levers over the ceiling, and then grabbed another lever, larger, which was part of a series between the pilot's chair and that of the co-pilot.
Ishtar lowered it towards her and...
A corridor lined with whirling light formed in front of the Jumper.
An instant later, the freighter jumped to light speed.
Walking the Bridge, Dhas Vedij stopped ahead of a large window. He watched the Jumper disappear while stroking the handle of his vibro-rapier.
A young lieutenant approached.
"Sir, the TIEs patrol is returning from reconnaissance. There is no threat in the asteroid field."
Vedij took the lieutenant's datapad. He pressed a button, and the 3D image of the asteroid field appeared in front of him.
"All right, there's no need to stay here. Helmsman, bring us closer to the asteroid 324."
A few minutes later, the Far Orbit slipped behind the huge block of iron and nickel that drifted for millions of years in this poorly mapped system. Masked by the tons of metal and a magnetic field generated by the asteroid, the Nebulon-B frigate could no longer be detected by mass sensors.
"Now, cut all unnecessary energy devices, especially propulsion, shields, and most importantly active sensors." As the lights went down on the Bridge, Vedij smiled, "Now we are one block of iron-nickel among thousands."
The planetary system was uninhabited, and this measure of caution might seem exaggerated. There was virtually no chance of a ship coming to inspect this area while they were there.
But zero risk did not exist, and the next step would quickly demonstrate that Vedij's prudence was not superfluous.
For two hours, the Far Orbit looked like a large metal box drifting in the cosmos, silent and dark because all the rooms with portholes had minimal lighting.
Sitting in the middle of the circle of consoles, Vedij had nothing to do but wait. He handled the controls, displaying the ship status almost every ten minutes. All the lights were green, no breakdown was reported... Primary Communication listened to the messages that crossed in the ether. They got nothing but uninteresting discussions. No mention of Coh Veshiv...
Suddenly, a half-asleep hand jumped up and leaned over his console, frantically manipulating sliders. He stood up, suddenly wide awake, and turned to his commander.
"Sir, I have just detected a large mass approaching in hyperspace."
Dhas Vedij frowned.
"A large mass? You mean a spaceship?"
"A...fleet, sir." I think it's a fleet. I...
The detection officer silenced when he heard a frantic beep. He leaned back over the screen, pressed some buttons, and then turned to the screen.
"Sir... a second large mass has just been detected. The computer says that the mass detected in hyperspace is the equivalent of about 20 Star Destroyers."
At this very moment, several ships came out of the continuum slowing down so fast they were violating the rules of ordinary physics.
"Keep the sensors in passive mode but give me more information about the newcomers!"
"Yes, sir!"
Above Captain Vedij's console appeared a flat hologram. The image had a pixelated aspect because of the high magnification. Five Imperial-class Star Destroyers advanced on a single line, one behind the other. On both sides, Strike cruisers formed close support. Outside this formation, escorts too small to be identified were deployed.
Bright spots had appeared under the destroyers and were quickly dispersed... probably the propulsor light of TIEs taking off from the hangar deck and going on patrol.
The blast door opened to let in Cet Villak, the major was obviously in a panic.
"We must leave here immediately. They will lock down the planetary system, we will be trapped if we do not leave now!"
"Calm down, major. They're not here for us."
"But..."
Villak was interrupted by the arrival of the second fleet. Its composition was substantially identical. Five Star Destroyers (including one of the Victory-class) around twenty cruisers and an unknown number of escort vessels.
Vedij remained stoic, though the situation annoyed him. However, like Villak, his crew was alarmed... not understanding what was going on. He turned on the comlink integrated into the command chair's armrest and selected the general frequency.
"To all the crew, it's your commander speaking. You may have already learned that two fleet imperials have just jumped into the planetary system. Don't panic; they're not here for us. Before we left Starforge, I gave you a short lecture on the Imperial forces present in the area. These ships are not part of these forces... You may also remember that I mentioned that the uninhabited planetary systems of the Ringali Shell were frequently used as training sites for fleets from other sectors. That's exactly what happened..."
For the benefit of Villak and the other people on the bridge, he gestured to the screens.
"Use your eyes and think. These are not Pursuit Lines (1), but two armadas formed of at least eight Heavy Attack Lines (2). No one in their right mind would send Cruisers and Star Destroyers to chase a mere pirate frigate. They are unfit for this task. In addition, the two fleets did not deploy as a search facility. They are grouped in a standard attack formation and maneuver to position themselves in attack... We are about to witness a battle simulation between two sector fleets."
Brentaal (Bormea Sector)
The Jumper came out of speed-light at the limit of the Brentaal system.
As the "innocent" freighter it was supposed to be, the ship had emerged in an area defined by navigational buoys and dedicated to this use.
Other vessels, small independent cargo ships (many of which were YT series manufactured in the Corellian sector), and gigantic bulk carriers or carrierscontainers stretched into space in queues that passed near custom space stations to be inspected.
Following the instructions automatically given by the space control droids, the Jumper joined one of these lines. At least twenty ships were in front of them... and the queue was not advancing. Only the first vessel was boarded by a customs frigate. Of course, the next starship must wait until the inspection is done before taking her place. Multiply that by twenty...
Mill Heswop smiled.
"Is anyone tempted by a Sabacc? We will have time to wait... a long time…»
Uninhabited star system near Corulag (Bormea Sector).
Dhas Vedij had not left his chair since the arrival of the two fleets. As he predicted, they had spent the previous two hours maneuvering to try to position themselves in order to "cross the T" of the opposing fleet...
Major Villak, loud-mouthed as usual, had boasted of knowing all the Alliance and Empire's combat tactics. Yet, he was the first to be surprised by the cautious advance of the Red and Blue Fleets. Until then, the clashes had been limited to skirmishes between escort ships and long-range exchanges of fire between cruisers... with turbolasers set to minimum power, shooting blank, of course...
Vedij manipulated some commands and made a 3D holo of an Imperial Star Destroyer appear. 'Forgetting' the bragging of the liaison officer, he began to explain to Villak... what he claimed to know from the start.
"The main armament of an ISD is on both flanks: two groups of four turrets... here... and there. As the triangular shape of a Destroyer suggests, the turrets are positioned to concentrate all the firepower on the bow. Only the stern pieces can fire to the rear, only the port pieces can fire on that side and only the starboard pieces can fire to the starboard. All pieces can shoot at a target directly above them... but none can shoot one something immediately below the Star Destroyer."
Captain Vedij paused for a moment to look at Villak. The major frowned.
"I already know all this. »
"In this case, you will notice that although the destroyers move in a single column, they are vertically shifted so as not to block the fire arc of the spaceships behind them."
Miming the Red Fleet's maneuver with one hand, he placed it on the flank of the Blue Fleet. The fingers of the right hand went into the palm of the left hand.
"In a space battle, the purpose of a Star Destroyer fleet is to "cross the T" of an enemy fleet, that is, to strike from the flank to concentrate all its heavy artillery on a single starship... while the other fleet can only retaliate with the heavy artillery pieces that can cover this flank. Do you understand Major Villak? One fleet can only fire with half its artillery, while the other can use its full power. It is not difficult to understand who is advantaged. »
Unintentionally transformed into a spy ship, the Far Orbit recorded the maneuvers of both fleets, the movements of fighter and bomber squadrons. It was a golden chance to learn the enemy's tactics, which could become a crucial asset if a rebel fleet was attacked by the Imperials. The Alliance would certainly be pleased to receive such information.
As an icon flickered on the screen of his console, the communications officer consulted the message that had just arrived.
He turned to Vedij.
"Sir, the decoding department has just deciphered a message sent by the High Command and redirected from Esseles to Moff Graffe."
"Moff Graffe?"
"It appears to be aboard the ISD Annihilator, the flagship of the Red Force."
"Send the decoded message to my console."
"Yes sir."
Dhas Vedij saw a flashing icon on his console and selected it.
An instant later, the intercepted message was displayed on his monitor.
PRIORITY TRANSMISSION:
GOLD17012/X
From: Imperial High Command, Imperial Center
To: Imperial Central Command, Esseles
Re: Arrival _ Advisor Veshiv
CC: Moff Graffe, Governor Takel
Message: Coh Veshiv, Advisor to His Majesty the Emperor, Supervisor of Darpa sector, on inspection tour. Consular ship Empire Forever arrives Esseles on 34:2:7, jump point 125.35.90. Depart on 34:5:9, jump point 180.45.115. Full honors are required.
Message End.
Captain Vedij smiled.
"Major Villak, the Force is with us! That's exactly what we were looking for... the date of arrival of Coh Veshiv on Esseles, his departure date, and even the name of the ship on whose board he is."
The Alliance liaison officer leaned over the commander's console and reads the decoded message.
"34:2:7? It's in three days..."
"We are only a few hours away. We will arrive on time…" Dhas Vedij displayed a map of the Esseles planetary system. The jump points at 125.35.90 and 180.45.115 were both within the range of the Golan III Space Defense Stations, which protects the planet.
"Clearly, it is impossible to take Coh Veshiv by force. A Nebulon-B frigate would be disintegrated by the orbital defense platform. But... the Far Orbit is an Imperial ship. Perhaps there is a way to bring Veshiv on board and return with the advisor without anyone realizing we took him. We have three days to devise a plan. We'll figure something out…"
Brentaal (Bormea Sector)
An officer of the Imperial Customs boarded the Jumper when, after three hours of waiting in line, the freighter finally entered the inspection area.
The young officer was hardly more than twenty years old and had the braces of a midshipman, he was still in training. He was rather friendly... unlike the two Stormtroopers who accompanied him.
Surprised at first that the owner of the Jumper was a teenager, he was even more surprised to learn that the freighter did not bring any cargo. Normally, freighters never made the trip empty, it was a deadweight loss that no independent trader could afford.
"We have a... problem."
"Problem? What kind of problem?"
"A group of hungry Gamorreans who break everything!"
Space Ishtar presented the datapad to the officer, showing him the shopping list with everything she needed to get.
The customs officer glanced at this list of live animals and repressed a shiver of disgust.
"I have no idea what these...bugs are. Do the Gamorreans really eat them alive?"
"I transport because I am paid to do so. I do not know Gamorreans food customs... and have no desire to broaden my horizons on this subject."
The customs officer completed the form after inspecting the freighter quickly... and, of course, without suspecting the existence of smugglers' hiding places in floors and partitions. He signed the document and pressed a button on his datapad to copy the report and send it to his superior. The answer came just as quickly... ten other ships were waiting for their inspection.
"All right, you have clearance to land on Brentaal."
"One last thing," said Ishtar. "Do you have any idea where I could get the food my client is looking for?"
"Try Puulo the Hutt... officially it is a merchant who imports starships and parts for starships from the Outer Rim. As he has Gamorrean guards, he probably has what you are looking for. Even if he has a rather good reputation... at least for a Hutt... Normally, I would not advise doing business with him. But this kind of "exotic" food is very hard to find on a planet that is predominantly human."
Finding Puulo the Hutt wasn't hard, his palace (a piece of work of bad taste) dominated the spaceport. A queue... another one... stretched out at the entrance reserved for merchants.
After half an hour of waiting while their predecessors were welcomed one by one, Space Ishtar and Pao-Neh-Lo finally approached an old model worker droid standing behind one of the counters that lined up along the wall opposite the front door. Having obviously never suffered any memory erasure CR-3-VN had developed a complex... and unattractive personality. Without lifting his photoreceptors from the computer's monitor, he spoke without any kind of polite words.
"Why are you here?"
"We are looking for consumer products... food that is adapted to the Gamorean's taste. We were advised to contact His Excellency Puulo the Hutt."
CR-3-VN consulted on the food list on Ishtar's datapad and then asked for the harbor access form, i.e. all the information that the Jumper crew had provided to the harbor office. The request was a little strange, but Ishtar did not argue.
The droid quickly read the form.
"Do you confirm that you have never been to Brentaal?"
"Yes... is it important?"
"For my master, yes, of course. Please follow me."
While another droid took the place of CR-3-VN, they followed him into the palace corridors. They eventually ended up in a vast dome-shaped room. Scattered on the periphery, there were several tables where a mixture of aliens from ten worlds was cluttering up. Most of them looked shady and were armed with a motley assortment of weapons... whose possession was without doubt illegal. An orchestra accompanied a female singer, an alien with several mouths. It was a bit like listening to a choir... But there was only one singer.
On a platform, a huge Hutt resembling a grey-skinned slug opened enormous eyes magnetized by the lascivious dances of several scantily clad green or blue-skinned Twi'leks. While sucking the smoke of a water pipe, the underworld's king would from time-to-time dip one of his baby-like hands in a jar of greenish water that housed disgusting creatures then put the critter– still alive and wriggling! - into his huge mouth and swallowed it without chewing...
It was a place of corruption run by the mob that dominated Brentaal's underworld.
CR-3-VN reported to Puulo the Hutt in a language that Ishtar did not speak, then handed the two datapads she had given him to a LOM Protocol Droid, a mechanical creature as strange as the aliens inhabiting this sordid place.
"Corianna Corvell, are you the captain of the Jumper?"
"Yes, its me."
"You have never been to Brentaal?"
"No."
"Very well, my master, the mighty Puulo the Hutt would have a shipment to entrust you with."
Space Ishtar was starting to feel uncomfortable. It was dangerous, potentially suicidal, to contradict a Hutt in his throne room, but she had a mission, a shipment to fetch.
"Excuse me, it is not my intention to offend the mighty Puulo the Hutt, but I am currently under contract, and my freighter has been rented by a customer. All the information you need is in the datacard I brought with me. You must understand my employer's situation; he has Gamorrean guards who are both hungry and irritable. I need to return with something to feed them, otherwise, things could take a turn for the worse."
Puulo's reputation was notorious across the galaxy. However, not all Hutts resemble Jabba. Puulo was among the few leaders of a mafia cartel known for maintaining a decent reputation. He offers 'honest' prices by Black Market standards and is considered fair—at least for a gang leader.
The LOM droid listened to the Hutt's response and translated it.
"My esteemed master understands your problem. If you can get back to Brentaal after completing your contract, could you take that shipment? If you accept, and as a sign of goodwill, the mighty Puulo will sell you Gamorrean food with a 15% discount."
Ishtar scratched her cheek.
"I'm sensitive to that argument. The problem is that... the person who has proclaimed himself my "legal guardian" insists that I do nothing that could get me into trouble. To accept this contract with the mighty Puulo would probably get me some trouble when I return."
"I believe you are making a presumption on a wrong basis, Mistress Corianna. I cannot give you any details of the mission that my mighty lord kindly offers you, at least if you have not accepted it... but my master needs someone to carry a perfectly legal cargo." The droid reached out to the interloping crowd that was noisily feasting. "My master has no shortage of devoted servants... The problem is that they are too well known on Brentaal. My master needs a freighter captain with no criminal record, and who has never been associated with him. His Excellency wishes to avoid... let's say… unneeded complications with the imperial authorities or that the freighter is attacked by enemies willing to harm my master. Payment includes the price of the actual transport... as well as your discretion on the nature of the shipment. You must not, of course, reveal that you worked for the mighty Puulo."
" The cargo is precious, I suppose."
"It has sentimental value for the mighty Puulo the Hutt, mistress Corianna."
"What kind of payment are we talking about?"
Puulo the Hutt spoke, and the droid bent his head to one side, listening intently.
"My master offers imperial credits or equipment."
"Ship parts and fighters?"
The Hutt waved his arms while laughing.
"My master says that the payment he offers does not cover the price of a single fighter but, as he is sympathetic to you, he would like to give you a discount after you have made the delivery."
"The mighty Puulo the Hutt must also be very well informed, and in my employer's eyes information is more valuable than money," said Ishtar.
"What is he looking for?" translated the Protocol Droid after listening to his master.
"My employer wants to learn more about a human named Coh Veshiv, who is said to be an advisor to Emperor Palpatine. Veshiv is reportedly in transit in the sector. My employer is looking for information about why he's traveling, where he is, what the ship that's carrying him is called... everything you can find."
The Hutt started laughing loudly, slapping green slime and hitting his chest with his little arms.
"Are you unaware that Coh Veshiv is currently on Brentaal? He arrived two days ago and was received with all the honors by the imperial governor," says the droid LOM, translating his master's words.
(1) Four to ten light ships (generally corvettes, frigates, and light cruisers. The classic squad for chasing after a pirate ship or searching a planetary system for a rebel base.
(2) Four to eight light and heavy cruisers, possibly a Star Destroyer. The classical small fleet for a full-scale space battle.