21: Welcome to Cloud City

ABOARD THE SENTINEL-CLASS SHUTTLE MIDRA’HARA

APPROACHING BESPIN

At this distance, the gas giant was a reddish-pinkish dot, no bigger than a bead held at arm’s length. Ageless Void stood in the shuttle’s cockpit behind the seats of the pilots, navigators, and intelligence officers. They were chattering in different languages, yet they all understood one other. This was something one never saw on any Imperial vessel, where everyone spoke Basic. Humans, Twi’leks, Mirialans, even a Bothan, they were all simpatico, moving with such fastidious care. Such a powerful coalition force, and he could see now their diligence and passion to take down the Empire was soaked in every motion.

And the way Ackbar and those Bothans took out those Star Destroyers…

During the journey to Bespin, Ageless had looked over Commander Fera’s shoulder as she examined the battle report from Home One’s operation over Hoth, and had been shocked at the efficiency and inventiveness of the Mon Calamari admiral. Ackbar had completely run circles around the Imperial ships.

Now he looked around the cockpit, at the impressive array of mobile sensor gear and surveillance equipment. The Rebels were well stocked with K9S transceiver/receiver decks, UXC-1 decryption hardware, and a suite of mal-code injectors that far surpassed the common slicer rig. The Empire is in more trouble than we ever knew, he thought.

“There are Star Destroyers in the area,” the Human pilot called as he flipped a few switches over his head. He was an older man with salted black hair. “But they’re pulling away now. Looks like they’re heading out-system. Probably another patrol.”

“Which means they could be back within a few hours,” Fera said, looking back at Ageless. “You’ve got a tighter clock than you thought. I’ve got word from our people in Cloud City, they say that the bank was put under pressure by some Hutt crime lord to release the funds. I’m guessing that was Carjukk?”

Standing behind Ageless, in the doorway to the cockpit, Namyr and Kevv were peeking in, watching the gas giant growing bigger. Namyr said, “If he’s still under the protection of the Hutt, this is going to be tough.”

Ageless nodded. “But you have assets in Cloud City, right? People posted there that can help?”

“Yes,” Fera sighed. “But only as remote support. And there is another snag. A big one, and one we could not have foreseen. Somehow, a bounty has already been issued on Zumter. By the Empire. Our listening outpost picked up the transmission between the Impaler and Imperial agents on Bespin.”

“Sithspit,” Kevv cursed. “First our clothes were on fire, then someone threw them into the sarlacc.” They all looked at him. He shrugged. “Old expression of my father’s.”

Ageless turned back to Fera. “Any ID on the bounty hunters being sent after him?”

The commander shook her head in disappointment. “Our outpost wasn’t able to pick up on any hunters responding to the call, but they are pretty sure that at least one or two Guildmembers are operational in this sector.”

“That’s wonderful,” Namyr sighed.

Kevv cleared his throat. “So, where do we start? I mean, when we touch down on that platform, we better have a solid plan.”

Ageless gestured to one of the datascreens. “May I?” The female Bothan looked to Fera for permission, then let Ageless have access. He tapped a few keys and used the interactive touchscreen to pull up a three-dimensional hologram of Cloud City, zooming in and out on different streets, buildings, and landing platforms. “Here’s the bank,” he pointed near the center of the map. “Looks like Cloud City Coin has three main plankways that lead to it.” He skimmed a few HoloNet articles about the area. He found journalistic pieces written about transportation issues, problems with workers’ unions, and the need for the rebuilding of certain roads and plankways. “Foot traffic increases about this time of day when the tibanna gas miners get off of work, switching shifts when the night crew comes in.” He nodded. “Night’s coming soon. That’s good. Night lasts six standard-hours here. Long enough.”

“Long enough for what?” Namyr said, leaning on the console and peering down at the glowing map.

But Ageless was still working out the plan. Many times he rotated the hologram around, looking for the right threat vector.

“Both Star Destroyers have left the system,” the Midra’hara’s captain called. “We can make the approach now, drop you guys off on one of the platforms our Cloud City team has secured for us, then we’ll fly away and leave you to it. There’s also an airspeeder that the team secured for you. It won’t be at the landing site, so you’ll have to rendezvous with them to find it.”

“That’s good,” Ageless said. “Gives us a window to get onto the planet unseen. You guys drop us off, and we’ll proceed to Cloud City Coin.”

Fera nodded and sighed. “We’ll wait for your signal to call us back,” she told Ageless and the others. “Meantime, you will be on your own. We’ll offer as much support as we can from up here, but if you attract too much attention while you’re down there…”

Ageless nodded. “Understood. And I think we have a good vector right here,” he said, pointing to the Cloud City map.

“Show me,” Namyr said.

Together, they hashed it out. With Kevv flying the airspeeder, Ageless and Namyr could circle around Cloud City Coin on foot, while Kevv scouted the landing platform around the back, the one meant for employees. The Duros could stay in a loose patrol of the area while Ageless, Namyr, and two or three other Rebel operatives that Fera was sending took up posts at the end of the three plankways leading to the bank.

“If Zumter goes to the parking lot, Kevv will be ready to follow him, or even interfere with his airspeeder’s liftoff if he has to, stalling him until we can get there and grab him,” Ageless said.

Namyr nodded. “Right. And if Zumter decides to go on foot, we converge on whichever plankway he takes, find a good spot to drag him somewhere secluded, then have Kevv swoop down to scoop us up. Simple enough.”

Ageless pointed to a couple of buildings as fallback spots, in case they got made and had to run. “These buildings here, here, and here…those should be good for breaking line-of-sight. And I just looked on the Daily Activities tab of Cloud City’s travel advisory center, and it shows a protest happening today.”

“Protest?” Kevv said.

Ageless nodded. “It’s being held by a bunch of gas miners angry that Cloud City’s leaders won’t allow the Mining Guild to come in and control the mining. They’re protesting higher wages or something, and they think the Mining Guild can give it to them, if Cloud City’s administrators would only let them in. It’s starting right about now, in a place called Potnuf Square, and scheduled to go throughout the night.” He stroked his chin, liking this idea. “That will give plenty of cover to disappear into a crowd.”

Namyr said, “What about Zumter’s contingency plans? Surely he’ll have them.”

“I’d be surprised if he didn’t. For that,” he said, looking to Fera, “we should place any agents you can spare on these rooftops here and here. Even if it’s just droids, we need the eyes to follow him in case he slips inside this restaurant over here, or that cantina over there.”

Kevv chimed in, “What about the droids we brought back from Hoth? The R-3PO droid seems sound of mind. Mostly.” He shrugged. “We could use them as spotters.”

“Sounds good.” He pointed to a few areas that were clearly designated for pleasure, and, judging by images he could find from the HoloNet, were frequented by tibanna miners after a hard day’s work. “These ought to give us a total overview of Zumter’s path.”

“Hopefully he hasn’t already left,” Kevv said.

Fera shook her head. “Our sources say his money is still there, so he should be in play. But we need to hurry.” To her team, she said, “All right, people, we need fresh eyes on those streets.” She pointed to the areas on the holo-map that Ageless had selected. “I need a relay down to our listening outpost, see if they can slice into Cloud City’s security camera system, then have them pass the link-up to the Midra’hara so that we can guide our grab team more effectively. Get on it!”

Fingers started clacking feverishly at keyboards.

Fera turned to Ageless, Fera, and Kevv. “You’ll want to get yourselves ready. This is going to be a fast dropoff—need to be away as soon as you disembark from the ship.”

The three of them said nothing as they marched to the back of the shuttle bay and started to prep. Three other Reb operatives, all Human males, were coming with them. Ageless watched them move with maximum efficiency, handing out commlinks to everyone, then small holdout blasters, easily concealable in fresh civilian clothing, which they were also issued.

Ageless was given a reversible red jacket with a high collar, and a retractable hood, in case he wanted to cover his horns, and a pair of black pants and boots. Namyr was given a green cloak to go over a white jacket and brown pants. Kevv was given a stylish gray flight suit, not uncommon to see at a spaceport, and a blue half-cape, which he was told was fashionable now on Bespin. But the tall black boots bothered him.

“I look like a baron,” the Duros said. “Or an Imperial.”

“Just remember,” Ageless said, “it’s not your clothes that stand out, it’s how you move, how you stand.”

“How’s that?”

He looked at the Duros. “People from different worlds, different walks of life, all have these unconscious mannerisms and customs, unique to their culture. Humanoids from most Core Worlds tend to stand evenly on both legs, arms at their side, while those from the Outer Rim tend to put their weight on one leg and lean to one side, and they put their hands on their hips. When Outer Rimmers smoke a hookah pipe, they hold the whole stem in their fist, but Core Worlders tend to balance it between two or three fingers.” He shrugged. “True disguise is not in makeup or wigs, but in how you move.”

Namyr looked over at him while she adjusted her cloak. “The Nest really didn’t miss anything in your training, did they?”

“No,” Ageless said, thinking back to the final test where he had to kill his friend. “No, they didn’t.”

“All of your garments have secret pockets for concealing weapons,” one of the Rebs announced, and showed them where these pockets were. “The clothing also has a thin lining of diffusion capacitors—if you get hit by a blaster bolt from afar, it will spread out over a small area, feel like a hard punch, but likely won’t go through. But if you’re hit in close range, you’re dead.” The commlinks they were given were tiny, and could clip to the inside of their sleeves so they could surreptitiously talk to one another while scratching their noses or rubbing their chins. The extra layers of clothing—like jackets, cloaks, and capes—made sense, as well. Being able to toss them off quickly allowed agents to change their silhouette. Silhouette being spy-talk for anyone’s personal appearance, and how they were framed in the context of a crowd.

Ageless knew all of this, but was not so arrogant that he did not pay attention anyway. There was always more to learn, from both friends and enemies. But which are they? Truth be known, he still had not figured that one out yet.

“Here’s a slicer’s rig,” said another nameless Rebel officer. He handed one to both Ageless and Namyr. “Probably won’t need these for a grab like this, but you never know.”

“Thanks,” Ageless said, sliding his rig into one of the hidden pockets, right beside the blank ID slates he had taken from Hoth. Nobody had seen him take them, but since Ageless had been released from his bonds, he had wandered around the ship a bit, and seen the blank ID slates lying on a dejarik table—he palmed them when no one was looking.

Maybe if I have a chance to slip away when I’m on Bespin…But was he really thinking of doing that? Did he really want to flee, after he had promised both Namyr and himself that he would help them? There were little doubts like these cropping up inside his head at every moment. He thought it was in his best interest to help the Rebels at this point, but what would he really do if he got the chance to flee?

R-3PO came waddling up to their group, along with R4. The astromech whistled something. “Yes, well, I quite agree,” said the protocol droid, “it izzzz most exciting to be back with our Rebel friendzzzzz again.”

“Your vocabulator’s still messed up?” Ageless asked.

“Yezzzz, sir. Sorry to say, but there just izzzzn’t a good droid mechanic on board. Not to worry, though, all my other functionzzzz are nearly optimal.”

“Including your photoreceptors?”

“Of course, zzzzir.”

“Good, ’cause we’ll need those peeled for the next few hours.”

A chime came over the intercom, and the pilot’s voice told them they had clearance from Cloud City air-traffic control to approach the planet and land at Platform 21.

Namyr looked over at him. “Here we go. Game time.”

Ageless took a deep breath and let it out slowly, setting his mind into the old familiar on-mission rhythm. He knew that soon he would get his chance to settle up with Zumter. Last chance ever, he thought. Because he knew, he was certain, that if he did not close in on the old man tonight, then the veteran spy would use all his skills and all his past contacts to fulfill whatever contingency plans he had. Zumter would vanish into the deepest recesses of the galaxy, change names a dozen times, and disappear into the ether.

* * *

CLOUD CITY

PLATFORM 21

Namyr knew immediately that they were in trouble. As soon as the Midra’hara’s ramp descended and they stepped out under the cloudy Bespin sky, they were met by an M-3PO military protocol droid, which advanced towards them, followed by two station guards and a man in a gray frock coat, gray pants, and gray hood. She knew an Imperial Longcoat when she saw one—they were survey officers, sometimes running intelligence, and could often be found performing random inspections on random ports.

She told herself it was just coincidence, that if the Empire knew they were here and wanted to take them in, the ambush would be subtler than this. Still, she felt the reassuring weight of the holdout blaster inside her cloak, and prepared herself for anything.

Beside her, Kevv tensed, and muttered, “What’s this all about?” The other Rebel operatives were dressed as journeyman miners, their bags tossed over their shoulders. R-3PO and the astromech shuffled quietly at their rear.

“Good evening, gentle-beings,” said the M-3PO in a male voice. It held a dataslate in hand, and its head watched the Midra’hara lift off and vanish into the cloudy night sky. “It appears your vessel was given permission to land, but the person who approved it did not have proper authorization to allow it. We may need to call your ship back, or else Cloud City cloud cars will be dispatched to—”

“Please, my wife here is sick,” said Ageless hurriedly. He looked straight past the droid and the two station guards, and stared directly at the Longcoat. Ageless had his hood pulled up over his head to cover his horns, so he could pass as a Human. He beseeched the Longcoat, “We chartered the flight from that shuttle with the last credits we could scrounge. I don’t know what strings they had to pull to land us here so quickly, but I’m grateful they did. Please be kind to them. And to us—”

“What sort of medical emergency are you in?” said the M-3PO.

“My wife has Naranger’s disease. Spacers call it widow’s kiss. I…I don’t know the specifics but the medical droid on our ship diagnosed her before we were set upon by pirates.”

The Longcoat raised an eyebrow, and stepped forward. “You were attacked by pirates?”

“Yes. Our ship had a Class Three hyperdrive, but once it was hit by their turbolasers we had only our Class Fifteen to fall back on, which would have taken us months just to get here, if not for that shuttle you just saw. It was full of good people. Good people willing to help out—”

“What sorts of pirates?” the Longcoat interrupted.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

At this point, R-3PO stepped forward and said, “The markings were yellow and black stripes, I believe, zzzir. Arfour here recorded some imagezzz of their attack, if you would like to see them.”

Following Ageless’s lead, Namyr tried her best to look poorly. Her eyes caught the stances of the guards, of the Longcoat, and marked their blasters holstered at their sides, and she prepared to stun them all and make a run for it. And she also noticed, almost absently, that Kevv seemed to be taking Ageless’s advice to heart on blending in. The Duros was standing like an Outer Rimmer, not like the Core Worlder he was.

“I would like to see those,” said the Longcoat. He produced a datapad and walked over to the astromech, who transferred over a data-file. While this was going on, Ageless kept up the ruse by insisting, almost yelling, that they needed to get help for Namyr, his poor delicate wife. The Longcoat was indifferent. One of the station guards murmured something into his commlink.

After a few minutes, the Longcoat walked away and conferred with someone over his own commlink, and reviewed the data-file that presumably contained images of a pirate attack. Though, where R4 had come up with such footage, Namyr could only guess.

“All right,” the Longcoat finally said. “As it was an emergency, and as it yields evidence in an investigation into the pirates we’ve been searching the Anoat system for, my superiors are willing to overlook this uncustomary landing. This time. But understand,” he said, waggling a commanding finger at them, “that the Empire is in control out here, despite what Outer Rimmers want to believe, and there are rules to follow. I’ll count this as a warning.”

“Yes, thank you, thank you!” Ageless said, and took Namyr’s hand in his. “Come, my dear. We have to get you to a hospital.”

Once they were free of the platform and stepping into a corridor with transparisteel windows, looking out over a brightly-lit city under a beautiful night sky, Namyr fell back to walk alongside the two droids. “Where in all hells did you two come up with footage of a pirate attack?” she said.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that, too,” said Kevv.

R-3PO answered, “A Rebel slicer at Echo Base worked on almost all of the astromechzzz while they were there, and he developed a special back-dating falsifier—a mod he placed on all astromechs, which allowzzzz them to show their recorded footage to anyone that asks, but with false dates attached to them. Usually those sortzzz of data-files are timestamped and cannot be changed, but this mod allows astromechzz to keep loads and loads of logs that they could present at any moment, to any Imperial, in order to corroborate the story of any Rebel spy the astromech wazzzzz traveling with.”

Namyr saw how that could be very helpful. By falsifying the date, you could make any story true. For example, a spy could say he had been at the cantina all day, and his astromech could summon footage from weeks before when he had been at a cantina, but date the footage so that it looked like it was just last night.

“Clever,” Ageless murmured, leading them through a set of doors that hissed open, and turning onto a plankway that led outside, and underneath a sky filled with bruise-black clouds. “Nobody at IIS ever thought of anything like that.”

“Probably because Imperialzzzz haven’t had to sneak through any sort of enemy territory,” R-3PO said. “Until recently. Until the Alliance began to take back their worldzzz.”

Namyr watched Ageless for comment. The Zabrak said nothing, and kept strutting forward, looking for the paths and plankways he had seen on the three-dimensional map. She took this opportunity to check in with the Midra’hara. “Mother, this is Mordenta. We are mobile, en route to destination. ETA, eight minutes.”

A scratchy transmission came back, “Copy that, Mordenta. Mother receives—” Fera broke off for a moment, then came back. “We’re getting some interference. We think it’s just Bespin’s natural radiation spikes.”

Namyr nodded to herself. She knew about Bespin’s unique problems. It was a very large gas giant. It had a strong magnetic field, coupled with that of one of its closest moons. The magnetic coupling of charged particles to the planet’s rapid twelve-hour spin drove intense radiation spikes in the upper atmosphere. She had heard pilots had trouble with navigation because of it.

She scratched her chin, and spoke into her hidden commlink, “Keep us updated on those spikes, Mother. If a big one comes around, we could lose all contact with you.”

“We realize that, Mordenta. That is why we’re working on a backup plan to get you out of there, in the event we get cut off from you. Our local assets think they may have someone that can assist.”

“Copy.” But that was only a little reassuring, like a thin blanket to ward off the monsters Namyr had imagined were in her closet as a child. This place was swarming with Imperial assets, like the Longcoat they had just met, and, for whatever reason, a pair of Star Destroyers were looming out in this sector, as if looking for something. Looking for us? Impossible to say. But as she looked up at the scant stars that were visible through the black caul of clouds, and then across the skyways and all the plankways of Cloud City, Namyr imagined a hundred pitfalls and a thousand traps they might fall into at any moment.

“This way,” Ageless said, his pace quickening. “At this junction up ahead, you three ought to break off and head for those buildings there.” He was speaking to the three Rebel agents that had joined them, and they obeyed wordlessly, breaking away from them and then jogging down a plankway that led into a corridor that wound through a giant circular building.

Namyr called after them, “Don’t forget to check in regularly.” She looked back at the droids. “You two. Think you can make it to those posts we showed you before?” She nodded towards a pair of tall buildings with transparisteel turbolfits racing up the sides.

“It shouldn’t be a problem, mistrezzzz,” said R-3PO. “Come along, Arfour. We’ve got work to do.” R4 tweeted cheerily.

“Keep your commlinks on,” Ageless said.

“Of course, zzzzir.” The protocol droid almost sounded insulted that he thought it needed to be said.

Once it was just the three of them, Ageless looked over at Namyr and Kevv. “Where did your people say the airspeeder was?”

“Midra’hara’s pilot said he got confirmation from local Rebs that we ought to meet them just up here,” said Namyr. She now took the lead, leading them away from the plankway and into a large rotunda that opened up to reveal a wide, elegant marketplace of glimmering glass and durasteel. They wove through the throng of shoppers, and Namyr looked around to gauge the baseline of the crowd. She could tell Ageless was doing the same. Kevv was a bit lost.

“We’re in Position Alpha, Mother,” she said.

“Copy. I’ll relay that to your contact.” A moment later, Commander Fera said, “She said—you—look for her in an orange cloak.” Her transmission was breaking up. “—over by a credit-lending kiosk, near a tapcaf called Ora’s.” It only took a moment to spot her. A blue-skinned Twi’lek in an orange cloak, looking nonchalantly at a chronometer hanging on the wall, and fiddling with her datapad.

“Contact spotted,” Namyr said, giving a slight nod to Ageless and Kevv. She took the lead again, and, as she approached, the Twi’lek started walking towards them. As she got close, the Twi’lek pretended to spill something from her handbag, then knelt to clean it up.

“Here, let me help you,” Namyr said. And once she knelt beside the Twi’lek, picking up her wallet and a few other knickknacks, she murmured, “Nice night for a drive.”

Without hesitation, and moving with a smoothness that belied her previous clumsiness, the Twi’lek slipped something into one of Namyr’s pockets, and said, “The airspeeder is parked two levels above. It is black with a blue stripe. It is untraceable, fully licensed, and is faster than it looks. It has the chassis of a T-33, but the engine of a V-wing airspeeder, so be aware that its handling is sensitive. Its papers are under the pilot’s seat, in case you get stopped. Good luck.”

The woman immediately stood up and walked away. Within seconds, she had vanished into the crowd.

When Namyr checked her pocket, she found the key fob for the airspeeder. “Let’s go.”

Ageless and Kevv followed her wordlessly.

Namyr led them to the nearest turbolift, went up two floors, and found the sleek airspeeder parked at a tiny platform made just for visiting shoppers. The platform was connected to the main building by a thin walkway, over the side of which was something like twenty stories of empty air and crisscrossing air traffic.

“Here you go,” she said to Kevv, handing him the key fob. “Keep in touch.”

“Will do, my dear lady. Will do.” The Duros jogged over and hopped inside. In mere seconds, he was airborne and joining the sky traffic.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” she told Ageless.

He nodded, and spoke into his commlink. “All teams, say status.”

The other Rebel agents reported in. “In Position Gamma,” said one. “I’m at Position Theta,” said another. “Position Delta is solid, but there is a lot of sky traffic near me. That union protest you were talking about before? Yeah, it’s really, really big. I can see it from here. Lots of airspeeders are circling overhead, mostly journalist vehicles and local law enforcement. Looks like it could get messy.”

“Copy,” Ageless said. “Keep us posted of any major changes.”

“Droids? You there?” said Namyr.

A static-filled transmission came through. “We are—seeing you on your approach now—lookzzzz like—activity near—but we have vizzzzual on Cloud City Coin.”

“You’re coming through choppy,” Namyr said. “If you can hear me, have Arfour use his scanners on the skies. Watch for police airspeeders, monitor their patrol routes—I imagine there will be extra police waiting to support those nearest the protest if they need it. Feed their routes to Kevv, keep him aware of all police traffic.”

“Arfour sayzzzz he can do better than that,” R-3PO said. “He sayzzzz he can likely patch into whatever airspeeder Kevv is using, and pozzzibly a few local police dispatcher frequenciezzzz. He can feed them directly to the airspeeder’zzzz traffic-monitoring system.”

“Excellent. Do that.”

Ageless let Namyr get ahead of him, and there was an unspoken agreement between them—he was now covering their tail while she took point. Ageless fell back even farther once they stepped through another indoor concourse and back outside again, crossing a plankway that spanned a nightclub district that was both above and below them. Airspeeders hummed overhead, some of them climbing for altitude, others alighting on the rooftop of a nearby cantina. The pulsating music of multiple zinth bands emanated from various clubs all around them. The smell of a hundred different styles of alien cuisine wafted past them, coming from food stalls that lined the plankways.

The plankways were so narrow that only two or three people could walk abreast. There were guardrails for safety, but they were short enough that Namyr could look down to the multiple crisscrossing plankways below them.

Ageless had disappeared somewhere behind her, but his voice came over their commlinks. “Need to do a quick SDR,” he said, referring to a surveillance-detection run. Namyr was familiar with the practice. Sometimes called a dry-cleaning run, clandestine operatives often used them to pretend to go shopping or run errands, while in fact they were trying to draw surveillance teams out into the open.

After a few minutes, they came within sight of the gleaming dome that was Cloud City Coin. Ageless reported back in, “SDR shows clear. We’re in the black.”

“Copy that. Proceeding to position.”

“Copy. I’m almost there.”

Namyr glanced behind her, and saw no Imperials, no followers of any kind. The exterior of Cloud City Coin was made up totally of transparisteel, so that people both inside and out could see clearly through. It was a gorgeous building, and it stood out amidst all the orange-colored buildings that dominated Cloud City’s skyline. Fortunately, the plankway where she was to be posted was indeed as busy as Ageless had said it would be. Lots of foot traffic, a couple of traveling zinth bands performing for handouts. Namyr pretended to listen to one of them and even handed them a few credits to blend in with the crowd. “In position,” she muttered into her commlink.

“I see you,” Ageless’s voice spoke into her ear. “I just reached my post. Mother? Any word from your people?”

“As it turns out, one of our contacts has a paid informant inside the bank,” Fera said. “That is a new development, which would’ve been handy to know earlier, but, oh well, at least it’s helpful now. The informant says the credits are scheduled for release soon, but doesn’t believe Zumter has arrived yet.”

“Copy. Good to know.”

Namyr felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach. As a Zero Soul, she had learned several breathing techniques to calm her mind and body, and she went through some of them now as her eyes ranged across the myriad faces all around her, on the two plankways across from her, and on the skies above her. She figured she could sort by Human, but one never knew, a veteran spy like Zumter could easily find a way to disguise himself as another species.

“Mordenta?” Ageless said. “Anything?”

“Negative,” she said. “Crowd is clear.”

“Same here.”

“I think I’ve clocked him,” came Kevv’s voice. “Guy matching his description, anyway. Human, tall, gray hair but no beard. Maybe he shaved it? I see him on the ground scanner.”

“Where?”

“Check your datapads, I’ll send you the location.”

Lots of modern airspeeders had belly cams that allowed the driver to see the ground where they were about to land, to make sure they did not squash any person or animal. They could also zoom in to find parking whenever space was limited. The benefit of this for spies was that the cams could be used to spot targets on the ground, and that info could be relayed to any datapads connected to its frequency-lender. “There you go,” said Kevv.

And right then, Namyr’s datapad chimed. When she checked it, she saw the visual from the airspeeder’s vantage, its belly cam immediately picked out someone that looked like how Ageless had described Zumter. “That him?” she said.

“Yes,” Ageless said. “That’s him.” The anger in his voice was almost imperceptible. Almost.

“Keep an eye on him, Kevv.”

“Copy that. He’s about to emerge from Ez’kel Avenue, coming from the Industrial District. He’s alone. Or…wait…no…no, there’s two guys about twenty yards behind him. No, make that three.” He zoomed in, and on her datapad, Namyr saw the images of three humanoids—a blond-haired Human, a green-skinned Rodian, and a large, towering Trandoshan. And the way they moved…It’s like ash-hounds with their eyes locked onto prey, she thought.

“Looks to me like they’re following him, and not too subtly,” Kevv said. “What do you think? Bodyguards?”

“No,” Namyr said. “If they were guarding him, they ought to be flanking him, one of them would be advancing ahead, clearing any trouble before he got there. And their posture is all wrong. The way they’re walking, their eyes…”

“Agreed,” Ageless said. “They’re not protecting him. They’re stalking him.”

“Think they got wind of the money he’s about to pull out of the bank?”

“Possibly. Or else they’re after the bounty.”

“Or both,” Kevv put in. “They could be about to rob him and then drag him off to the Empire for the reward. Double payday.”

“Either way,” Ageless said, “they’d be stupid to attack him before he goes inside.”

“Which means we have competition,” Namyr said. “Okay, so, no problem, we just make an adjustment to the grab. This is what we’ll do. Kevv, you can—” Namyr cut herself off. It was just the briefest of glimpses, but she was almost certain of what she had seen. Her eyes had just clocked an individual walking on the next plankway over, moving surreptitiously through the crowd, his helmet and red T-shaped visor barely noticeable since it was night and the streetlights along the plankways were not exactly brilliant. But she knew that helmet. I would know it anywhere.

And her heart skipped a beat.

“We’ve got another problem,” she said into her commlink. “A big problem.”

“What’s that?” Ageless said.

“One plankway over, south of Cloud City Coin, wearing Mandalorian armor, jetpack on his back. See him?”

After a few seconds, Ageless’s tense voice came back. “Blast,” he said. “Boba Fett. Of all the luck in the void—”

“Who?” Kevv said.

“A bounty hunter,” Namyr said. “A damn good one.” She sighed. “That settles it. They’re all here for him. This is going to be a fight.”

* * *

Kevv manipulated the airspeeder’s belly cam to trace the plankway that Namyr had indicated, and after a few seconds he saw the armored bounty hunter moving slowly, easily, as though on an evening stroll, yet there was no doubt where he was heading: Cloud City Coin. The Mandalorian armor-wearing man did not even look towards Zumter as he approached the bank, nor did he seem focused on anything in particular. Ageless, for his part, alerted the others he was backing away. As did Namyr. They were now relying on Kevv to slowly orbit the bank and keep an eye on all entrances and exits, while they looked for a better vantage to both hide from this new threat and keep tabs on the three bounty hunters following Zumter.

The modified airspeeder was a three-seater—the pilot sat up front with a passenger seat to his left, and a single spare seat in the back. It was plush and decked out, yet there were holes in the upholstery. Lots of holes. Like the holes made by a vibroblade. And, on the passenger side door, there was what appeared to be the faintest evidence of carbon scoring. Kevv imagined the previous owners of this vehicle had met an end with blaster and blade.

Wonder which Imperial officer was offed to get hold of this little toy.

He cast that thought aside as Namyr called up to him, “What are the three guys following Zumter doing? They still on him?”

Ageless reported in, “I’m having a hard time seeing them. Crowd density is heinous right now.”

Kevv had to manage piloting the speeder with one hand while operating the belly cam with the other, and his attention was divided between navigating through air traffic and searching the ground for the three bounty hunters. Not exactly safe driving conditions. What was worse, it was only getting darker outside, and he had to monitor multiple moving targets, including Namyr and Ageless.

He spotted the Trandoshan and his two pals. “The three of them are hanging back at the end of the plankway. Think they know where he’s headed?”

“I’d say it’s a safe bet,” Ageless said. Kevv spun the belly cam around to the Zabrak’s position, and saw him moving almost too stealthily to be noticed, weaving through the crowds expertly, always keeping at least one or two people between himself and the Mandalorian-suited fellow, whoever he was. Both Namyr and Ageless seemed to know him. Maybe it’s a spy thing.

Kevv kept circling Cloud City Coin, moving the belly cam around and around, receiving a few rude gestures from other airspeeder pilots as he cut across their skylanes.

Kevv checked the police channels that R4 was feeding him, making sure none of the local officers had spotted him or determined that his continued orbiting of the bank was suspicious. That little droid is sure helpful. Might need to keep him around.

When he circled back around to the front, he zoomed in on a familiar figure. “Zumter’s leaving the bank!” he called out. “And he’s got a case with him. A very big case.” Indeed, the gray-haired Human moved with fast, purposeful steps as he carried what appeared to be a large, black, durasteel case in his left arm. He had a coat hanging over his right arm…and his hand was covered by it. “Heads up. I think our target has a weapon hidden under the coat he has draped over his arm.”

“Copy that,” Ageless said. “I see him now. I’m mobile.” The tension in his voice was subtle, but Kevv caught it. There was no mistaking that the Zabrak privately relished the idea of doing in Zumter himself. The question that entered Kevv’s mind now was, Will Ageless honor the deal with Fera, or will he take Zumter down himself, and then disappear?

“I’m following, too,” Namyr said. “And I’ve got eyes on the three hunters. I’ve lost Fett, though.”

Kevv abruptly swerved the belly cam around, looking for the obvious shape of the Mandalorian helmet and jetpack. Where did he…?

Suddenly, something started crawling up the back of Kevv’s spine, making its way to the forefront of his brain, and there it laid an egg of an idea. A notion. A fear. Jetpack. The guy has a jetpack.

“Hey, guys, check the skies around me. Do you see any—”

“On your tail!” came Ageless’s urgent cry. “I see him! He’s coming up behind you! Evasive action, Kevv! Now!”

Evasive action in a starfighter meant something totally different than with an airspeeder, but Kevv nevertheless responded as though receiving a command. And no sooner had he banked sharply to his left than he saw the bounty hunter zoom straight by him, dragging a column of smoke behind him as his jetpack spat flames. Kevv was just about to sing out in triumph that he had narrowly avoided disaster, when suddenly his engine sputtered, stalled, then came back online. The repulsors failed, and his stomach leapt into his throat for a terrifying moment as he plummeted a hundred feet. Then, then repulsors reasserted themselves. Kevv breathed a sigh of relief.

Then the engines failed again.

And now he pitched slightly to the left, nose down, and fell towards the domed roof of Cloud City Coin.

Panicking, feeling much like he had when fighting the AT-AT walkers on Hoth, thinking his life would soon end, Kevv tapped a few keys to derive auxiliary power from other systems, and the repulsors reactivated just in time for him to pull up. He scraped the bank’s rooftop. Had time to see the warning lights come on.

“Something’s wrong with my exhaust manifold—” he said, just before the repulsors failed again and he went plummeting. Down, down, down through multiple lanes of traffic. None of his instruments were responding. “I’m going down!” Kevv said. “He put something in the exhaust manifold! There’s a clog! A backfeed of some kind! I don’t know what it is! I’m going—”

The airspeeder caromed into the side of a plankway. He saw people leap out of the way just in time. The airspeeder fishtailed in midair, then spun out of control and he was thrown against the wheel, smacking his head and blacking out.