Star Wars - A Servant of the Empire - Unpublished (4 page)

“Now I understand why the Academy turned me down. I wasn’t crazy enough.”

“You’re forgetting your friend Nadria. This is probably the last chance to rescue her.”

Mace became suddenly serious. “All right, I’m in. I still think this is crazy, but I’m in.”

“Good. Now, since the enemy currently outnumbers us, we must rely on strategy and make the best use of what assets we have.”

The slaves were penned in six cavernous storage chambers carved from the bare rock of Zahir. To allow buyers to inspect the merchandise, there were catwalks raised four meters above the floor, from which guards and customers could look down on the helpless captives below. One of Yab’s thugs patrolled each chamber, armed with a blaster and an electrolash.

Mace strolled along the catwalk, trying to look like a prospective buyer. The slaves stared up at him miserably as he passed. He could recognize a dozen species, and there were a dozen more he’d never seen before.

In the fifth chamber he spotted a familiar face. Nadria was standing with a group of Shkali, glaring at the guard. She looked tired and dirty, but unharmed. He coughed. She looked up at him, started to smile, then controlled her reaction. Mace risked a wink at her.

Keeping his expression neutral, he sauntered over to the guard, a tall, bony fellow with an impressive collection of scars. Mace waited until there were no other customers in the chamber, then spoke. “Are these slaves healthy?”

“Yep. Boss don’t keep sick ones.”

“A sensible precaution. The reason I ask is that one of these doesn’t look too well.”

“Which one?” The guard uncoiled his electrolash.

“The one in the green tunic over there.”

“Green tunic?”

“There in the back, see? Kind of crouching down by the wall.” Mace pointed at a random spot. “Right next to the Mon Calamari.”

“I don’t see any green—” Mace grabbed the seat of the guard’s pants and tipped him over the railing into the pit of slaves below.

In an instant Nadria and some of the others muffled the guard’s shouts and snatched away his weapons.

“Mace!” she cried happily. “I knew you’d come for me! Did you get help from the Alliance?”

“Not exactly. I’ll explain later. Let’s get you and these others out of this pit. Time’s short.”

The auction was being held underneath the main dome. A crowd of perhaps a hundred buyers stood around a platform, where Yab himself auctioned off the slaves.

A Twi’lek woman stood on the block, eyes downcast, while Yab made his pitch to the buyers.

“Pretty girl. Young and healthy. Perfect as a household servant. Very docile.” He snickered loudly, echoed by some of the crowd. “Do I hear five hundred? Yes. Five fifty? Six hundred? Six fifty? No? Six twenty-five? Hah. Six thirty? Do I hear six thirty? Six thirty-five? The gentleman bids six thirty-five. Six forty? Do I hear six forty?”

Suddenly, a blaster shot exploded overhead. The crowd fell silent as Panatic strode forward, accompanied by Ivlik in stormtrooper armor. “I am Commander Ulan Panatic of the Imperial Navy. Everyone here is under arrest!”

That was Mace’s cue to come running In from one of the side entrances, yelling wildly. “Imperials! Imperial soldiers everywhere! Run for it!”

Most of the people in the room were criminals of one variety or another. They reacted instinctively by fleeing. In an instant the auction dissolved into a wild melee as buyers fought to get away. “You!” Yab shrieked at Panatic. “Why aren’t you dead?”

“You are under arrest. Worruga Yab. Surrender or we’ll shoot!”

Yab’s answer was to draw his own blaster and open fire. Panatic snapped off one shot, then dropped and rolled to avoid Yab’s fire. Ivlik dodged clumsily in the armor, blazing away with his rifle.

“Don’t just stand there—after him!” Yab shouted to his guards. Four of them advanced toward Panatic’s hiding place, fanning out to surround him. The other two tried to pin down Ivlik with a barrage of blaster bolts.

“This is your last chance, Yab!”

“Kill him! I want his head on—Eyaah!” he shrieked as an electrolash struck him in the back. Nadria stung his arm again with the lash, and kicked his fallen blaster out of reach.

The freed slaves were pouring into the dome from the entrances, converging on Yab with murder in their eyes. The thugs turned and began firing into the throng.

“Give up and you won’t be harmed!” Panatic shouted at them. As if to back up his words, the
Sentinel
streaked past the dome, firing at the ships around Zahir. Ships were fleeing in all directions.

The guards, stunned, raised their hands.

“Have you finished processing the prisoners, Ensign Av?” Panatic asked, entering the
Sentinel’s
bridge. Four hours of sleep and a hot meal had restored him completely, and he had changed into a freshly-pressed uniform.

“Yes, sir. The ringleaders are already aboard, locked up in the brig. We found Worruga Yab—dead. Apparently a group of slaves wanted revenge.”

“A pity he won’t stand trial.”

“Yes, sir. That still leaves two problems. First, what are we going to do with all these slaves? There must be a hundred of them. We can’t fit that many aboard the
Sentinel
.”

“How many ships were captured in our raid?”

“Eight. Three are spaceworthy.”

“All right, then. You, Monidda, and Sukal will use those ships to ferry the slaves back to wherever they were captured. And contact Captain Innis of the
Protector
, see if he can lend us a hand.”

“Yes, sir. The second thing is the prisoner Varden Quil. He keeps demanding to see you.”

Panatic sighed. “I suppose I can’t put that off any longer. Have Sergeant Ivlik bring him up here.”

A few minutes later, Sergeant Ivlik and trooper Lanzer arrived on the bridge, flanking a furious Varden Quil.

“Captain, this is an outrage! I demand that you release me at once!”

“Not until you stand trial. I’ve got a long list of charges for you, Quil—conspiracy, assault on an Imperial officer, resisting arrest, attempted murder, trafficking in illegal slaves, and I’m sure an investigation could uncover more. You could wind upon Kessel, or worse.”

“May I remind you that I am the personal assistant to Moff Tricus Phenge? He has powerful friends. If you offend the Moff, you can forget about a career in the Navy.”

“We seem to be at a standoff. If I press charges, the Moff may destroy my career. But if I let you go, you’re quite capable of making trouble for me on your own.”

Quil sneered. “If you apologize. I may forgive you, Captain.”

Panatic smiled back. “As an Imperial officer, I have the option of pressing charges against you in an Imperial court, or of handing you over to planetary authorities. I’ve decided to take the second option.”

“Planetary authorities? What planetary authorities?”

“I am going to hand you over to the Tribal Council on Shkali for trial. They have stiff penalties for slave raiding there. Good luck.”

“Wait! Surely we can work something out! I have friends!”

“Take the prisoner back to the brig, Sergeant.”

As Ivlik and Lanzer dragged Quil away, his shouts grew louder and more frantic. “I have money! Fifty thousand credits! A hundred thousand! Cash!”

Panatic did not permit himself to smile. He turned to Ensign Av. “Anything else to attend to?”

“There is the matter of the prisoner Rav Mace. He’s still missing.”

Panatic’s face remained expressionless, and he paused for a split-second before replying. “Don’t bother searching for him. He tried to make a run for it and I had to shoot him. Someone must have stolen his ship in the confusion. The details will be in my report.”

Av looked at his commanding officer curiously for a moment, then nodded. “That takes care of everything, sir.”

“Good. You may begin transporting the slaves at your convenience, Ensign. I’ve got some messages to send.”

Three months later, Mace and Nadria were getting the
Ordinary Trader
restocked at Moldar when an Ithorian scout dropped off a message chip addressed to them.

When he put it into the reader, Panatic’s face appeared on the screen. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly, Mace. You saved my life at least once and I am grateful. But now the score is settled. I better not catch you in my sector again.”

Mace smiled and shook his head. “May the Force be with you, Captain.”

Rav Mace