Wedge's Gamble (20 page)

Erisi blinked her big blue eyes a couple of times, then
looked from Corran to Rima and back. “What was all that about?”

“You saved my life.” He smiled at her. “Forgive the liberty I took, but …”

She caught her breath, then returned the smile. “I understand. If you ever need your life saved again, I’ll be honored to be of service to you.”

He patted her on the knee. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” He turned back toward Rima. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“I want to kill him.” Corran reached out and tapped her lightly on the temple. “Do you know why?”

“I know many things, but not all things.”

“I caught the Trandoshan who killed my father, but Loor let him go.” Corran took in a deep breath and let it out. “He’ll pay for that one day. Sooner than later, I hope, but don’t worry, I have my priorities straight. His date with justice can wait, wait until we bring down the government that gives people like him the power to perpetrate evil on more worlds than we can count.”

19

It occurred to Gavin that if his father had any idea he’d end up sitting in the Azure Dianoga cantina, he’d never have let him leave the farm. If Mos Eisley was considered the armpit of the galaxy, this part of Coruscant could be considered anatomically lower and decidedly less hygienic. In the dim distance, in an alcove between the bar and the doors, Gavin could see a Kubaz quartet playing trunkflutes and percussion, but the din caused by hundreds of aliens speaking all at once walled away the sound of their music.

Acrid green smoke drifted through the cantina’s atmosphere, stinging Gavin’s eyes and painting another layer of grime across his face. Down in the lower reaches of Invisec he’d taken to wearing all of his clothes in layers, rotating the inners to outers, and had been at it for the week since they’d landed. He felt he smelled like a dewback with bloat, but the worse his scent became, fewer were the complaints from the various aliens with whom they dealt.

The mission given to their team had been quite broad. The top two items on the agenda were to determine the level of control the Empire exerted over the
lower reaches of the city—and the general mood of the alien population on the world—and to find out if the lower levels of the infrastructure would provide avenues of attack against the government. That seemed logical to Gavin because if Coruscant were built on a foundation the government didn’t control, bringing it down would be just a little bit easier.

Since their cover story had Gavin and Shiel working as partners, they had traveled independently from the others and had spent a great deal of time exploring the tunnels and ruins at the bottom of the world. The Shistavanen wolf man had suggested they begin their exploration near the Invisec border because if there was no way to leave Invisec and penetrate the newer sections of the city, any invasion force that made planetfall in Invisec would be bottled up.

The border proved fascinating because of the mélange of building materials and architectural styles all jammed into a very small area. Where the huge construction droids had carved a swath that nibbled away at Invisec, the walls were formed of sheer ferrocrete with no preconstructed access ports to the other side. No matter how new these walls looked, all of them had been covered with colorful writing—most of it being anti-Imperial invective—or had been gouged by sharp claws or nibbled by sharper teeth.

Borrats appeared to be the pioneers that opened holes in these solid walls. The holes appeared to be about twice the size of a pilot’s helmet, with claw marks that striated a cone shape going in and coming out on the other side. Clearly sapient beings had expanded on some of these holes, enlarging them to permit easy passage for most creatures. Some of the holes had been resealed, but the ferrocrete patches could be removed if they were chipped away at the edges, and in at least one case, a plug had been hinged so it looked normal from the far side and could provide easy access to areas outside Invisec.

The perimeter of Invisec where the residents were moving out and taking over buildings previously outside
their sector was known in local parlance as the Outer Rim. There the holes through the ferrocrete walls were numerous and large enough to permit all sorts of commerce. Where the Imperials made an effort to stop the migration of aliens, all windows and doors had been sealed with ferrocrete plugs. Messages splashed on walls indicated points where people suspected the Imps had set up booby traps. Arcane sigils and graffiti in more languages than Gavin knew existed marked the sites of fights where Imps had killed people to prevent the sullying of new territory.

The Outer Rim clearly provided more opportunities for an invading force to push into the city proper primarily because the walls there were not as strong as the barriers on the other side of Invisec. That fact, however, would be the only bright spot in an otherwise very gloomy report. After days of wandering through the dark and twisted alleys and byways of Invisec, the vast scale of the invasion needed to wrest the planet from the Empire began to press in on Gavin. The planet had billions upon billions of people. The force needed to pacify the populace and maintain order while fighting against Imperial stormtroopers would have to be incredibly huge.

It would take more troops than the Rebellion has under arms. The shields make this place a tough nut to crack, but chewing up the meat isn’t going to be any easier
. Gavin hunched forward on the table in the corner booth and gripped his mug of lomin-ale with both hands. “Prospects don’t look so good, do they?”

Shiel lowered a mug from his muzzle and wiped excess ale off on his sleeve. “If there’s no prey, there’s no reason to hunt.”

Nawara Ven and Rhysati Ynr cut through the smoke and slid into the booth, forcing Gavin to slide around toward the center of the semicircle. The Twi’lek’s clothes were worn in only one layer, were more conservatively cut and decidedly cleaner than the ragged things Gavin and Shiel wore. Rhysati wore a skintight, dark blue body stocking supplemented with knee-high boots, belts,
chains, and other straplike accessories that accented her already considerable charms. Gavin forced himself to meet her stare, then blushed when she winked at him.

Nawara raised a hand and waved a serving droid over. “Churban brandy for me, or the closest synthesis you can manage. She will have a Durindfire, light on the phosphorescent agent.” He settled a brain tail over Rhysati’s shoulders as the droid scuttled off, then nodded to Ooryl and Aril Nunb as they joined the group. “All alive and well, I see.”

Ooryl tapped himself on the chest. “Gand has traveled extensively and has found much exotica. Items are available from throughout the galaxy, at prices that reflect the distance they have been shipped, not any restriction on supply.”

Nawara rhythmically tapped his fingernails against the scarred and stained tabletop. “Estimates on how long those goods would last?”

Aril cocked her head. “A month, perhaps more, provided Imperial interests did not stage raids. The Imps appear to monitor trading. Everyone seems to pay protection to the Imps, to Black Sun, and to local Invisec factions. If things were to get tight, some of the things here would be pulled outside.”

Gavin exchanged a glance with Shiel. The wolf man had said that he would have opted to starve the Imps out by blockading the planet. He estimated it could survive for two or three months. Aril’s estimation of the supplies in Invisec meant that the alien population of Coruscant would be hurt worse by a blockade than the Imps would. Given the anti-alien bias the Empire had, that sort of result wasn’t surprising.
If Ysanne Isard was smart she’d ransom the Invisec population for supplies, or she’d just have them killed and take their supplies for the humans
.

The general din of the cantina faded and died as Imperial stormtroopers came through the doors. They wore the standard white armor seen across the galaxy, though they did have small pinpoint spotlights clipped to their right shoulders. Two soldiers remained at the doorway—they
were armed with heavy blaster rifles—while the rest of the squad broke down into a pair of three-man groups that began to work their way around the dark oval room. Back through the doorway Gavin thought he saw more troopers and a large vehicle, but the swirling smoke and general gloom made a positive identification impossible.

Aril kept her voice low. “Another sweep?”

Nawara nodded but remained silent.

The various alien denizens of the bar shifted around anxiously. The Gotal seated back to back with Nawara in the next booth over ducked his head, giving Gavin a clear view of the stormtroopers centered between the Gotal’s horns. Gavin killed a smile as he recalled stories about Gotals being able to read minds.
It would be very interesting to be able to know what’s going on inside those helmets, if anything at all is. I wonder what they’re after?

The knot of stormtroopers nearest the Rogues stopped at a table where two squid-headed Quarren sat conversing with a tall Duros. The leader of the stormtroopers demanded identification cards. He ran them one at a time through a slot on the datapad attached to the armor on his right thigh, then returned one card to the Duros.

“You two will have to come with us.” The stormtroopers behind him brought their blaster carbines up to cover the Quarren.

“What have we done?”

“Routine inquiries. You have nothing to fear if you have done nothing wrong.”

The Quarren, pulling their robes tightly around them, rose from their stools and scurried out. No one stared at them, but everyone seemed to be watching them go. Gavin could feel resentment rising in the room as it rose in him.

The second trio of stormtroopers found no one interesting to harass, so they backed to the door while the first set of troopers approached the Rogues’ table. The leader demanded Gavin’s identification with an outstretched hand. “Far from home, aren’t you? ID, now.”

Gavin fumbled for it, then turned it over.

The stormtrooper ran it through his datapad’s slot, but didn’t return it immediately. “I asked you a question, son. What are you doing here?”

“Ah, I, ah, I’m just here.” Gavin fought to stop panic from choking him.

The stormtrooper snapped the ID card on the table. “I have reports that say you left home under strange circumstances. Maybe you want to come with us and return to your own kind. We won’t let
them
hurt you.”

“No, I’m fine here, really.”

The trooper shifted his attention to Rhysati. “Identification.”

She snuggled tighter beneath Nawara’s brain tail and flicked her pink tongue salaciously over the grey flesh of the Twi’lek’s throat. Nawara reached inside his tunic and held up an ID card between the second and third fingers of his right hand. As he lifted it toward the stormtrooper, Gavin saw the outline of a black triangular coin worth a hundred credits. “You don’t really need to see her identification.”

The stormtrooper took the ID card and neatly palmed the coin. He held the card up to compare the hologram with Rhysati, then tossed it down in anger when she turned her face toward him and winked. “Your kind makes me sick.”

“As does your kind, which is why I’m with him.”

That rocked the stormtrooper back on his heels for a moment and he seemed about ready to go for his blaster when a buzzing came from his helmet. He touched the side of it with his left hand, then turned to his two companions and jerked his head toward the door. Looking back at Nawara he said, “You’re lucky this time, spoiler, but I’d be thinking about finding a new friend. It wouldn’t do to have this one crying over your ashes, would it?”

“Perhaps not.”

“Definitely not. Remember that.”

The stormtroopers withdrew and darkness again descended on the Azure Dianoga. The conversational tone
remained low, which allowed some of the band’s music to make it over to the table. Over near the doorway Gavin saw some figures get up and begin to sway or writhe in time to the music, though the twitching of one person led him to believe that some of the notes were being played well outside the range of his hearing.

Aril appropriated Gavin’s ale and downed a healthy swallow of it. “That was close.”

“Gand has previously avoided such contact. Gand has seen Imperials rounding up others, both Quarren and Gamorreans.”

Shiel nodded. “The kid and I saw a family of Gamorreans herded off.”

“The stories we’ve heard indicate occasional sweeps taking in Gamorreans and Quarren on a weekly basis. They take a dozen or two.” Nawara Ven scraped talons along his jawline. “Perhaps there has been an anti-Imperial uprising on Gamorr.”

“That would explain the taking of Gamorreans.” Aril’s garnet eyes sparkled in the backlight of the glowing drink the service droid placed in front of Rhysati. “Why the Quarren?”

Nawara dropped a ten-credit piece in the slot on top of the droid’s head and drew his brandy from the tray. “Quarren share the same world with the Mon Calamari, but the two populations are not wholly united. Perhaps they want to exploit the enmity between them.”

A petite, black-furred female Bothan came walking over to their table and smiled invitingly in Gavin’s direction. A diamond of silken white fur covered her from throat to navel—it being visible beneath her sleeveless jacket’s loose lacing closures. White also sheathed her hands and carried on up to mid forearm. A blaze of white fur blossomed in the middle of her brow and splashed across her left eye and cheek to where it narrowed again at the corner of her jaw. Her light violet eyes shone brightly in contrast to the fur surrounding them, giving her a penetrating stare that sent a quick jolt through Gavin.

Nawara looked up at her. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I think not, sir.” She picked up Gavin’s identification card, read it, and gently set it down again. “I noticed how you dared defy that stormtrooper, Vin Leiger, and I thought perhaps I would like to learn more of a man who can be so casual in a place where so few of his kind are found. I thought we might discuss this … privately.”