The two Imperial troops wearing yeoman's uniforms left with their repulsor cart after delivering the crew and passengers of Allegra's Heart and their luggage to the small bungalow apartments they'd been assigned. Tess and Varun had politely declined separate rooms, as had Sera and Reiko.
Tess had just finished putting her clothes away. Varun was doing the same, while surreptitiously scanning for surveillance devices. He found two voice recorders, and cameras in each corner of the ceiling.
"Sweetheart, can you help me with this jacket? I'm afraid I'll wrinkle it."
Tess hopped off the bed and joined him at the small closet. "You men really can't do anything on your own, can you?"
"I'm hopeless without you, it's true," Varun said, kissing her on the cheek and showing her the display on his miniature datapad when he moved his jacket. She hung it in the closet, smoothing the drape of the fabric. He switched off the pad and slipped it in his pocket.
The door chime rang. Varun opened it. A man and a woman, middle-aged and wearing civilian clothes, stood in the doorway. "Hello," Varun greeted them. "Can I help you?"
"I guess we're the welcoming committee," said the man. "I'm Jerric, and this is my wife Amanda."
At the sound of their voices Tess spun, a sudden knot in her stomach. Varun invited them in, glancing expectantly at her. She'd escaped from her parents' salvage ship when she was fourteen, with nothing but the clothes she wore. Over the years the details of their faces had dimmed in her recollection, but now, standing before her...
She took an unsteady step forward, her hand at her mouth. "Momma?" she said, trembling.
Amanda took a moment, then her face softened. "Tess?"
Tess let out a cry of unalloyed elation and leapt toward them. Sobbing, she threw her arms around their necks and kissed them. Jerric and Amanda, overcome with emotion, broke down in tears, embracing the daughter they hadn't seen in a decade. Varun stood back, grinning ear to ear at the three of them.
When the shock of their reintroduction had faded, Jerric and Amanda took them to their home, a modest cottage like the others on the base with a lemon-yellow roof and pale blue plaster walls. Amanda insisted on cooking dinner in the small kitchen, and after they'd eaten, she poured warm amber liquid into little glazed cups.
Tess took a sip. It was nutty, sweet, and a little fruity. "What is it?"
Jerric turned the cup in his big hand. "It's called sarna, a local grain, honeygirl. We let it ferment, then dry roast it to bring out its natural alcohol and give it a toasty flavor."
"Honeygirl," Tess beamed. "I haven't heard that in so long, daddy." She squeezed his hand, then wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
Varun drank his cup and Amanda poured him another. "TaggeCo could make an impact in the beverage market with this," he said thoughtfully, pretending to consider the possibilities.
Tess hated not being able to tell them what had really happened to her after she'd escaped their ship. Varun had shown her the surveillance analysis, and it confirmed what he'd suspected; the Daros' apartment was wired just like theirs was. "So, tell me what happened after the Scrapper's Dream was boarded," she asked, leaning forward eagerly.
"We were detained by Customs," Jerric began. "We lacked the proper salvage permits, they said. They impounded the Dream. We never did see her again."
Amanda looked wistful, tucking a lock of graying brown hair behind her ear. "We put a lot of good years and hard work into that ship."
"They sent us to a detention center on Kentralus VII for a few months, then we were each sentenced to twenty years' labor. Those first few months were pretty... desperate," Jerric admitted, his face a mask of recollected pain for a moment. "But when they learned about our technical backgrounds they started assigning us to scrap recovery and mining operations."
"Twenty years for permit violations? That must have been terrible," Tess cried, raging on the inside. Sensing her anger, Varun put his hand over hers.
"It wasn't pleasant, dear, but we were allowed to stay together. We had it a lot better than some, I can tell you." Amanda gave Jerric a loving, sad smile, which he echoed. "Anyway, about four years ago we came here. We helped construct the base, then when the mining started, they needed someone to do quality analysis. With my degrees in geology and mineralogy, I was the natural choice, wasn't I?"
"What about you, dad?"
"Turns out your old man is a fair hand at logistics management," answered Jerric. "I'd been assisting the officer assigned to the work, but she was shipped off-world. Never did find out why, but instead of bringing in a replacement, they gave the job to me."
"Mr. and Mrs. Daro, I'm frankly a little shocked to hear your accounts," Varun commented. "Most Imperial facilities use forced labor, but conditions here are… well let's just say that most workers at Imperial sites aren't treated nearly as well as you have been."
"It's true that we came here under indenture, but Director Tafo has a different style. Maybe it's his engineering background, but he's not an ideologue. He's more of a technocrat, with a strong affinity for efficiency."
"You don't think he has ambitions for greater things?"
"Oh, I imagine he does," Amanda jumped in. "He's as ambitious as any Director I've seen. But he is also a realist. It didn't take him long to see that people held in servitude and working under threat of violence don't perform as well. So he 'adjusted' the rules and made a deal with us. Our freedom, so to speak, in return for our willing cooperation."
Tess looked confused. "But Mom, Beta Fonidian is in the middle of nowhere, literally. It's outside Rep—Imperial space."
"That's all right, dear. We're not much interested in the doings of the Empire, and it's really quite nice here."
"So you're saying you wouldn't want to leave?"
"Leave? Heavens no, why would we want to do such a thing? All of our friends are here, and we're doing important work."
"Don't you want to get your ship back, dad, start up your salvage business again?"
"Well, honeygirl, I enjoyed salvage work but what I'm doing here is just as rewarding."
Between tight teeth she said, "You know there's a war going on, don't you?"
"Of course dear. Everyone knows that. The Emperor has to bring order, and root out those filthy terrorists and their so-called Rebellion."
"Quite," Varun interjected before Tess could say anything that might get them in trouble, either with her parents or the Imperials who were undoubtedly recording their conversation. "Still, if you did want to leave, I'm sure TaggeCo could make the necessary inquiries. You'd just need to let us know."
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"Oh, that's a very kind offer Varun, very kind. But we're quite happy here, aren't we dear?" She patted Jerric's hand.
He nodded agreement and sipped his sarna. "I do wish we still had the Scrapper's Dream, though."
"Why?" Tess asked, "if you're not getting back into salvage?"
"All of our things, holos of you growing up, everything was on that ship." He fiddled quietly for a moment, looking down at his hands. "We lost hope of ever seeing you again, and not having any holos or vids, well, it was hard."
"Aw, daddy," Tess answered, her eyes moist. She took her parents' hands and held them tightly.
"Anyway," Jerric said, blinking away latent tears, "Tell us how you found your way to TaggeCo."
Varun had concocted a cover story for her that stuck close to reality. "After mom put me on the lifeboat I drifted for a while until a freelance hyperspace survey team picked up my distress signal. We were near Crait so they dropped me there. I signed on to an apprentice program at one of Tagge's mining stations. A year later I enrolled in their Explorer program, worked my way up to piloting one of their ships until an accident a year ago." She touched the scar at her throat.
"We met when Tessa was grounded on medical leave," Varun continued smoothly. "I needed a pilot and an assistant."
"And a girlfriend," she added, leaning into his shoulder. "He's really hopeless without me." She laughed and Amanda joined in.
They spent the rest of the night reliving Tess's childhood. Varun was careful to steer the conversation away from recent events, and to keep them on track with their manufactured backgrounds. The chrono showed two hours past midnight before they'd talked themselves out. Tess hugged them both, holding onto them for a long time while they said their goodnights.
When they returned to their bungalow, Tess dropped onto the sofa. Elation and exhaustion mingled together, though the latter seemed ascendant, if only because of the toll their emotional reunion had taken on her.
Varun kissed her cheek. "Long day," he yawned, rubbing his tired eyes. "Think I'll take a shower before bed. Care to join me, sweetheart?"
"Um, sure."
The bathroom was small, with a glass-enclosed shower in one corner. Varun stripped, aware that there were probably hidden video pickups even here. He turned on the water spray, letting steam fill the compact space. For good measure, he activated the masker on his Hush-120 comlink, hidden in the folds of his towel. Tess came in, already undressed, and got in with him. He slipped in behind her, took the soap and a soft sponge and began washing her back.
"Mmm, that feels good," she cooed. "A little lower, to the left… ah, that's the spot." Tess sighed as he worked out a little muscle spasm in her back. He let his fingers linger on the small dimples at her pelvis.
Varun bent close to her ear. "I've got the masker on and the water spray should hide our voices."
Tess nodded. He began gently scrubbing her shoulders. "I'm so happy to see them, I can hardly stand it, Varun!" she uttered with a little cry of delight. "But, not wanting to leave here… do you think they're just saying that?"
"Hard to say." He rubbed his soapy hands overher arms.
Tess took the sponge and set to work on his chest. "You think the monitors at Mom and Dad's house were put there because of us?"
He nodded. "I also think that means your parents are genuinely not interested in leaving, at least not yet." He cradled her face in his hands. "I know you want to take them away from here, Tessa. Before you get too upset, let's give it some time. They might change their minds."
"I just want them to come home."
"I know you do, sweetheart. I know," he soothed. He caressed her throat, touching the big scar. "They could fix this, you know."
"I know. I want to keep it, to remind me of what I've lost," she looked up into his expressive eyes, "and what I've gained."
Varun kissed the scar, then nuzzled her neck until she guided him to her lips. After a long kiss he said, "We're probably being monitored, you know."
"Then let's give them something to watch," she whispered, pushing him lower.
----------------------------------------
Vaniel watched the video displays at her desk, scanning the feeds from the Tagge party's cottages and the Daro residence. The steam from the shower in the cottage shared by Numarkos and the Daro woman obscured the camera's view. The audio pickups caught only the hiss of the shower and occasional cries of passion. Ruatha listened for a few moments, then switched it off in disgust.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but... Something's off. Too many coincidences. Tafo might dismiss them, but he hadn't received the exquisite education she had at the ISB academy on Imperial Center. He lacked clarity, and the cold dispassion necessary to discern deception.
Outside of the delayed resupply drop seventeen months ago, there hadn't been an unscheduled arrival since the secret research station had begun operating on Beta Fonidian II. The system was thousands of parsecs outside of Imperial space, and so far off any known hyperspace route that no one could possibly find the place without the code to decrypt the ever-changing frequencies on the s-thread beacons leading there.
So, Manager Numarkos either had access to the highest classification of Imperial navigation codes, or the kind of luck that only came around in a hundred million years. And Vaniel Ruatha didn't believe in that kind of luck. She turned in her chair, facing a security cabinet reinforced with durasteel and pressed her eye to the the retinal scanner, waiting the half-second for the lock to disengage. She took out a shoebox-sized instrument and set it atop the desk, connected the data cable, then activated it and checked the display. It would be early morning where she was calling, but it was important enough. Ruatha keyed in a frequency and her ident code, then waited.
A little arm flipped up on the box with a camera pickup. Its recording light glowed blue. A couple of seconds later the holodisplay flickered. A man's face appeared in the air above the box. He wiped sleep from his eyes. "Admiral Jellick," Ruatha greeted him with as much enthusiasm as she spared for anyone.
The delay while her transmission traveled through subspace to the Dominus sector irritated her. She drew a deep breath. When this operation was over, she'd have her choice of any posting in the Empire, however much of it remained.
"Ruatha. I trust you're calling to tell me the Kantorius is ready for trials." His voice had a mechanical timbre thanks to the dozens of encrypted subspace relays through which the signal was passing.
"Not yet, Admiral. I told you we're at least a week away."
"Then why are you interrupting my sleep?"
"I need you to run some names." She slipped a data cylinder into the subspace radio's scomp port. "A team of researchers from TaggeCo arrived today. They say they're here to catalog ruins on the planet, but I don't know. The timing seems too convenient."
She waited for the delay, then for Jellick to read the list of names she'd sent. "It'll take a few days to push these through ISB's archives and get an answer back. Arrest them for now."
"You know Tafo won't allow that," she hissed. "He's amused by them, and he thinks we'll earn displeasure from high places if they are who they say they are."
Jellick scowled, though it was hard to see in the heavily rasterized holo image. "Well at least limit their movements."
"Don't tell me how to do my job, Jellick," Vaniel snapped. "Without my help your little Sigma Nova side project would still be a figment in your imagination."
"And you don't fool yourself, Ruatha. You're dirt on ISB High Command's boot thanks to that debacle at Drasis, and you're in Sigma Nova up to your neck just like the rest of us. Just make sure you keep the new arrivals on a short leash until I can vet your list." He pointed into the pickup. "Don't mess this up, Vaniel. Your cat has no lives left to spare." With that the display went dark as Jellick cut the connection.
Vaniel spat a curse, comparing the admiral with a crude bodily function. She unplugged the comm unit and returned it to the cabinet.
Other than Tafo, no one at Rho-277 knew of the Emperor's death at the Battle of Endor, nor of the Empire's surrender. Their work mining kyber crystals to build a new force of Onager-class Star Destroyers needed to continue, if for no other reason than to provide cover for their other work. Jellick was determined to lead the effort to reconquer the Imperial territory that the fledgling New Republic had taken in the past two years. They wouldn't be able to do that with a handful of Onagers, though. Those filthy rebels had laid bare every weakness in relying on a small number of terror weapons to maintain order in a sprawling galaxy. On the other hand, Sigma Nova could theoretically produce thousands of ships equipped with superlasers and reinforced shields powered by kyber-enhanced reactors. Those ships would sweep the pitiful New Republic fleet and their local allies from space and reestablish Imperial dominance, as it should be.
The Emperor may have died, but his dream lived on, and Vaniel Ruatha was determined to see it fulfilled.