41:03:12 GrS

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Allegra's Heart emerged from hyperspace a few thousand klicks outside of Lantillies's gravity well. Sera checked their position on the navigational display and looked satisfied. She grasped the helm controls. "My ship."

Lyra checked the local time while she contacted Lantillies orbital control. "Looks like we're a little ahead of schedule." She keyed the comm. "Lantillies Orb—" An urgent alert whistled suddenly in the cockpit. "What the—"

"Target lock." Sera looked surprised as she consulted her tactical display. "Three contacts on intercept vectors and a big one farther back. Your ship," she advised, returning command to Lyra and switching her controls to tactical mode.

"Rutting pirates!" Lyra swore. "My ship," she acknowledged while she steered an evasive pattern.

A flash of plasma passed overhead. "They're not waiting to get into range." Sera activated the deflectors and issued orders. "All hands, combat stations. Yuzu, ventral turret and aft missiles. Nimor, turbolasers and missiles are yours. I've got the dorsal and chin turrets."

Both women flipped switches on their panels with disciplined urgency. Sera powered up the dorsal turret as Yuzu hurried into the cockpit and sat at the gunner's station. More red laser fire flashed by the viewports and a bolt splashed against the shields, shaking the freighter. Sera glanced at the tactical display. Two of the attackers approached from the front, with one attempting to slide in behind them. The leaders flew into visual range, lining up for an attack run.

"V-wings?" Lyra was incredulous. "Where do pirates get Alpha-Threes from?"

"Probably raided from a decommissioning depot somewhere," Sera responded as she tracked a target and fired the rotary tri-barrel laser. She scored a hit but the fighter shot back with its rapid-fire cannons.

Lyra threw Allegra onto her tail and kicked up the sublight drives. The other ships all turned into a climb behind her. "They're following. Amateurs."

The freighter rocked under a sustained volley of laser cannon fire from the attacking ships. The lights flickered and Sera felt the deceleration as one of their drives took a solid hit. "Their flying might be amateurish, but their gunnery's not bad." Another two fighters streaked in from behind, their laser bolts ripping into Allegra's durasteel hull.

"I think there's a carrier ship back there," Sera stated as she spun her turret, unleashing a burst at a pursuer. The bolts struck just in front of the cockpit. The ship wobbled, then went into a spin and ripped apart. "Splash one."

"If we bloody their noses enough they'll probably turn tail."

"My thoughts exactly," Sera seconded as Allegra's Heart caught another laser blast. "Shields at seventy-four percent. Yuzu, don't be shy with the guns."

"Affirmative, Captain," replied the droid as another ship appeared on the tactical display. Yuzu fired, peppering the attackers with laser fire. His shots punched through one of the fighters' shields, blasting off its tall starboard wing. The damaged ship and its wingman peeled away under the fusillade. "Two targets outbound by five on a perpendicular course," called Yuzu, watching the attackers on his scope. "They appear to be circling back to an attack vector, Mistress Lyra."

"Big mistake," she snarled and turned for an intercept. A bare second later the missile lock warning blared in the cockpit.

"Jammers engaged," Sera called as she activated the military-grade countermeasures they'd salvaged from the wrecked Decimator on Jakku. Then she dialed an emergency frequency on the comm. "This is registered light freighter Allegra's Heart on orbital approach to Lantillies. We're under attack from multiple starfighters. Requesting assistance from any law enforcement or military assets." She punched a button to transmit their location and set the message on a loop.

"Nice try, Rendix but if they're jamming our transmissions..."

"I know," Sera responded. The pursuers began closing the distance, attacking from different planes and angles to make Sera and Yuzu split their fire, and deny Lyra easy escape routes.

The comm crackled. A man's voice, full of nasally overtones, came over the speaker. "Allegra's Heart, you'll never make Lantillies. Abandon ship now and we won't target your escape pods. Probably."

Lyra looked furious. "No scum-sucking sketworm is taking my ship!"

"Wrong answer, bitch," came the answer. The damaged V-wing launched a missile while the other one fired its laser cannons. Heedless, Lyra bore right down on one of the pirates and mashed the turbolaser triggers. The snub fighter vaporized in a fiery instant. "Splash two!"

"Missile, Nimor!" Sera urgently reminded her.

Lyra's angry scowl never wavered as she jerked the freighter aside and activated the chaff dispenser. The missile took the bait, exploding amid the cloud of metallic foil, passing Allegra's Heart a dozen meters off their starboard quarter. Even with the miss, the freighter jolted from the explosive force of the warhead.

The remaining fighters peeled away, chased by fire from both the turrets and Lyra's turbolasers. Sera watched them retreating on the scope. "Looks like they've had enough." She glanced at Lyra, who was just turning to a pursuit vector. Sera reached over and touched her arm. "That bigger one's still out there and we're not a combat ship."

"Yeah, I know," growled the former Customs officer, still enraged. She turned the freighter and ran as fast as the damaged engines would go toward the planetary defense perimeter.

Sera watched the sensors to be sure there were no other threats, then ordered, "Secure from combat stations, but keep a sharp eye on tactical sensors. Good work, Yuzu."

"Thank you, Captain Rendix. I'm glad I was able to be of some assistance. You know, I think I'm becoming quite—"

A hailing signal beeped, interrupting the loquacious L-1 droid. "Freighter Allegra's Heart, this is Lantillies orbital patrol. We're sending assistance. ETA is four minutes."

Lyra beat Sera to the comm button. "Then you'll be four minutes late. We splashed two of their ships and chased off a few more. You're welcome!" she snapped, heaping on extra snark to be sure she'd made her point.

Sera got on the channel. "What my pilot means is that we appreciate the offer, Lantillies. If you hurry, you might be able to catch them." She flipped switches on her panel. "Transmitting sensor data and last known position of the hostiles. Allegra's Heart out." She shot her 'let's-not-antagonize-the-locals' look at Lyra while she started running diagnostics. "Yuzu, log the damage and prioritize repairs on the systems we need to get our girl on the ground."

"Right away, Captain," answered the droid, sounding a little disappointed that he hadn't gotten to finish his earlier thought.

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43:03:10 GrS

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Taz shook the furry hand of the slim female Aquilish merchant at Ooalal Provisions where he'd concluded terms for refilling the Chimera's consumables. The proprietor's mandibular tusks clacked together repeatedly. In broken Basic, heavily accented with the burbles and guttural intonations of her native tongue, she said, "Good health use, Oktos esteemed customer."

"Thanks," he answered with a salutary nod as he exited the establishment, tucking the receipt inside his vest. "Food, water, air, check," he mumbled as he stepped onto the moving treadway, consulting his datapad and crossing off the items. He still needed tibanna gas for the weapons and fuel to power the reactor and hyperdrive.

It took a few hops on connected treadways to reach the ordnance dealer. Taz entered the narrow storefront and found himself standing at a long counter. Holographic images played along the countertop, displaying the store's wares.

The owner of the place sat at the other end. He was an old veteran with the characteristic look of a clone. His balding gray head and beard disguised a variety of tattoos. He had a chunk of ear missing, plus a big scar up the side of his skull that only reinforced his exotic, menacing look.

On a shelf behind him was a scuffed helmet with a glossy black visor. Faded golden paint reminiscent of an eagle's head decorated the old armor. "Phase-one clone trooper helmet, right?" Taz said, impressed.

The man looked up from whatever he was reading. "Seems you know your armor." He leaned forward, his hairy forearms crossed on the worn composite countertop. "Whad'ya need, son?"

"Tibanna and concussion missiles. If you have them, I mean."

The clone pressed his lips together and rubbed his bearded chin, looking Taz up and down. "Don't usually sell missiles to young bucks like you. Too many kids these days lookin' ta start trouble."

"I'd rather avoid trouble if I can," Taz answered evenly.

The older man's eyes narrowed. "An' if ya can't?"

"Then I aim to give as good as I get."

After a minute, the man stated, "You served in the war."

Taz lifted an eyebrow. "Yes sir, I did." He drew a deep breath that came with a hint of a shudder. For whatever reason, the man made him remember the war and all the carnage he'd seen.

"Still think about it, don't ya? Never quite goes away, ya know." He stuck out a big, calloused hand.

Taz took it readily. "No sir, I don't suppose it will."

"Enough with the 'sir', son. I was just a corporal. Designation CT dash Ten Sixty-six stroke Fourteen. Seventeenth sector army, second corps, fifth regiment. You can call me Jug."

"Taz. Taz Oktos. Senior Warrant Officer, Third-class. Alliance sector force Seven Sixty-seven."

"Hmph. I should be callin' you sir!" Jug exclaimed, still shaking Taz's hand. "Rebel, huh?"

"Razorclaw Cell, out of Filve," Taz smiled and touched the patch on his vest that was embroidered with their filvian raptor namesake.

"Whad'ya do?"

"A little bit of everything, Jug, but my specialty was combat medic."

"We sure were glad to have you fellas around when the shootin' started."

"You?"

"Started out in a weapons platoon but I was drivin' a Saber tank when the war ended." He finally relinquished Taz's hand. His eye drifted to the younger man's belt and Aurora Ascendant dangling from it. "Some of our generals an' commanders used to carry those." His eye was wide and he looked a little awestruck, or perhaps fearful. "Thought my brothers executed all the Jedi in that fit of madness."

"I heard rumors that a few survived the purges," Taz answered cautiously. "That was way before my time, though. You guys all had some kind of implants that compelled obedience, didn't you?"

Jug rubbed the scar that was visible through his cropped haircut. "Not sure how much was compulsion and how much was just the conditionin' to obey orders. Treason's a big charge an' to be honest, I saw a lot of my brothers die at the orders of those Jedi generals. If it was the chips then I might've been there pullin' the trigger too. Maybe even without 'em. As it was, got my skull cracked open when our tank was hit on Kooriva so I was out of the fight on a medical frigate when the Chancellor's order came down."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Taz gave a thoughtful nod and brushed the lightsaber with his fingers. "I'm nothing close to a Jedi; more like an heir to some of their legacy. The good part, I hope."

The grizzled veteran sucked in a breath, banishing old memories. "So, missiles an' tibanna, huh?"

"Bought a transport at the auction yesterday. I want to get her ready to go."

"Oh? Business or pleasure?"

"Bit of both, I suppose," Taz smiled. "My friends started a charter service when we mustered out. It's dicey out there, sometimes." He thumbed vaguely for emphasis.

"Good for you, son. I ran a logistics outfit with some of my brothers after the Empire decided they didn't need us clones in their ranks." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice but it didn't last long. "We went our own way after a while, found wives, started families an' such." Through the doorway behind Jug, Taz glimpsed a woman with aging, light purple skin taking inventory of the items lining the shelves. "When you age at twice the normal rate you kinda wanna get on with livin', ya know?"

"I expect you do."

"Had a good run for ten years or so, though." He curled beckoning fingers at Taz's datapad. "What kind of launcher d'ya have?"

Taz handed over the pad. Jug read the specs and issued an approving grunt. "Arakyd Flex Tube, eh? Can fire nearly anythin' out of those." He rolled his chair over to a data terminal and started tapping away. The inventory appeared, and he ran his finger down the list. "Got some ST-Five concussion missiles, MG-Eight proton torpedoes, an'... yeah, thought so. A case of T-Thirty-three plasma torpedoes. Been sittin' in the warehouse for a couple years. Pop one of those to bust their shields, then roll in a missile behind it or a proton torpedo if they're really unfriendly. Nice one-two punch," Jug said, throwing a jab and an uppercut in the air for emphasis.

He rolled back over and consulted Taz's pad again. "How 'bout twelve concussion missiles, eight proton, an' six plasma torps. That'll fill your magazines and give you a decent reserve. At retail that'd set ya back twenty-six thou. But for a fellow vet I'll let ya have the lot for sixteen, an' I'll fill your tibanna tanks for four thousand more. Twenty K gets you fully loaded. Whad'ya say?"

Taz considered for a few seconds. "Sounds like a better deal than I was expecting, Jug. Do you take credit?"

"Depends on whose. I'd prefer dataries, though. Less hassle, ya know."

Taz fished Lyra's credit chip out of his pocket. I'm going to be paying her back forever. "Currency it is." Jug took the chip and wheeled back to his terminal to process the transaction. "Know anyone around here who'll sell hyperfuel on KTS credit?"

"KTS, huh? They've got a solid rep." Jug rubbed his chin then called over his shoulder. "Metia!"

The woman in the back came out. She tucked a lock of silvery bronze hair behind her ear and gave Taz a welcoming smile. "What is it, Jug?"

"That good-for-nothin' Cosian's still runnin' the Exchange, isn't he?"

"You should know, you just went drinking with him three nights ago, silly." She slapped him lovingly on the shoulder.

"Right. The old memory core's not what it used to be," he chuckled, tapping the side of his head where the scar was. "Go see Oba Neluat at the Hyperium Exchange." He typed a few more keystrokes, then slid back over to Taz and handed over Lyra's credit chip along with a data disk the size of a big coin. "Tell 'im Jug sent ya, an' give 'im that disk."

"What's on it?"

"Authorization code. I won options to purchase two hundred tons of fuel at Hyperium spec rates on a lucky divot throw last year." He patted the woman's hand resting on his shoulder and gave her a fond look. "We don't get out as much these days; doubt we'd ever use all that hyperfuel. You're welcome to as much as ya need, son."

"That's really generous of you, Jug. Let me give you something for it at least."

The older man held up a hand and smiled, stretching the scar on his face. "Vets stick together, Taz. You fought to restore the Republic just like my brothers and I fought to defend it. You take that an' do a good turn for another vet sometime."

"Alright, Jug, I'll do that. Thanks."

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Taz concluded his hyperfuel purchase at the Exchange a half-hour later and started back toward the maintenance bay where he'd berthed the Skipjack Chimera. He let his gaze wander, peering through the shopfronts as the treadway carried him along. A trio of orbs the size of hoverballs caught his attention as he passed a dingy display window. Taz hopped off the conveyance and looked up. The store's sign hung from corroded cables. Flickering pink electroluminescent characters simply spelled out: Izzy's.

He stepped inside, the door hissing closed behind him with the peculiar buzz of a misaligned actuator arm. A rusty pit droid stood behind the counter and swiveled its flared dome of a head, fixing Taz with a cyclopean photoreceptor. He looked at the display case in the window. Behind the reinforced glass sat the triple orbs, plus a chaotic collection of everything someone looking for quick cash might pawn—blasters, jewelry, droid callers, speeder activation keys, even small sculptures. He spent a few moments looking at the merchandise, wondering where the proprietor was.

"Need something?"

Taz turned, looking for the source of the voice.

"Right here, pal." The pit droid looked up at Taz.

The Filvian man wore a surprised expression. "You speak Basic?"

"Well if it isn't the latest graduate of genius school," announced the droid, putting its elbow on the counter and resting its head on its hand.

Mouthy droid, Taz thought with a scowl. "Aren't you guys supposed to run around in packs? So you can pool your meager intelligence, I mean."

The droid tilted its head and the shop's light flashed in its big photoeye. "A comedian, too."

Taz cracked a snarky smile. "I'm looking for Izzy or whoever runs this place."

The small droid hopped up on the counter and thumped his chest, making a dull metallic sound. "That's me, genius." To Taz's incredulous look he added, "Don't judge a bantha by its horns."

"Sure." Taz drew out the word, sounding skeptical.

"See something you like?" The droid waved at the items in the display case. "Or maybe you're here to sell? Geniuses run out of money too."

Taz ignored the jibe and took another look at the display case. He hadn't been sure outside but now there was no doubt that he was looking at a trio of combat training remotes. He recalled a lesson from Roh Mikkal, the Jedi combat master whose recordings he'd been studying since he received them from Nanvarr a few months ago. Master Roh advised using remotes to practice deflecting blaster fire with a lightsaber. "How much for one of the remotes?"

Izzy hopped over the counter and pointed. "Didn't you read the sign? You have to buy all three, genius."

Taz scowled and looked again. There was a sign below the remotes but it was nearly obscured by the jumble of other merchandise. He could just make out the price. "Six hundred, huh?"

"They're a bargain at that price," the droid assured.

Taz nodded at the little seeker droids. "Power them up. I want to see them working."

The DUM-series droid made a passable imitation of an organic being scratching its head but did as Taz instructed. "Satisfied?" Izzy asked after all of the remotes were floating in the air, spinning and changing positions. "They're networked in a co-op mesh. Ten difficulty settings. Doubt you'd get past one or two, though."

Taz let the insult pass with just a frown. He spent five minutes bargaining with the droid and finally got him to drop the price by fifty credits. Izzy put the remotes into their carrying case, headed behind the counter, and processed the sale. A few seconds later he flipped the terminal around so Taz could pay.

"Hey, this says five seventy-five! We agreed to five fifty."

Izzy shugged. "Taxes, genius, plus a processing fee."

"More like a gouging fee," Taz grumbled but he inserted his line-of-credit chip into the reader anyway.

"What else, genius?" Izzy asked, handing him the carry case.

"Just this," Taz said, suddenly poking the ring around the proprietor's big optical sensor with his finger. The pit droid promptly collapsed into a compact folded package on the platform behind the counter, temporarily disabled. "Didn't think I knew that trick, did you?" Taz drawled. "Have a nice day, genius," he said, waving over his shoulder.

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The Skipjack Chimera's sensor arrays weren't a lot different than the ones on Allegra's Heart, so Taz only needed an hour to service and realign them. The ventral turret was another matter. He'd never worked on an Incom servo turret before and he had to scrutinize the schematics he'd downloaded before he could start. Taz crouched under the ship with his shoulders squeezed between the two CoMar f-4 ion cannon barrels and got to it.

After the better part of three hours repairing the traversing mechanism, he stretched his arm up into the hull where the turret sat partially retracted, using the video probe on his datapad to guide the lubricant applicator. He sprayed a film of PETX6 on its four traversing actuators. Then, feeling around with both hands, he reconnected the power and coolant couplings.

There was a satisfying hum as the turret came to life. Even with the ion cannon tucked into the hull to improve ground clearance it was still cramped beneath the shallow dome of hull plates, conduits, and cabling. Taz rechecked the alignment of the coaxial targeting sensor, then jammed the heavy maintenance hatch against the turret body with his forearm while he reached awkwardly with the hydrospanner to secure the chunky fasteners. After a minute he relaxed, dropped the power tool into the canvas bag at his feet, and retreated from under the Skipjack Chimera.

He stood up straight, stretching to ease his cramped back. Lyra always laughed when he complained about the unnatural postures he had to twist himself into while he was servicing the systems on Allegra's Heart. He missed her laugh and the way her eyes danced, even when she was teasing him. Maybe especially when she's teasing.

"Lyra," he whispered, feeling lonely all of a sudden. He brushed his hand against the gray duralloy hull. Will she love the ship? Will she want to stay? He swallowed past the lump in his throat and repeated to himself that he really didn't mind waiting. But waiting hurt a little, too.

Taz scowled at his childishness. A trio of barrel-shaped, grimy white and orange fueling droids from the Hyperium Exchange tromped around the ship, connecting hoses from a huge hovering supply truck to pump the volatile Clouzon-36 into the freighter's five storage cells. Simultaneously, two stocky ordnance loader droids moved up and down the Chimera's cargo ramps on their heavy treads carrying the missiles and torpedoes he'd purchased from Jug.

Taz went up the boarding ramp and entered the cockpit. "I've finished aligning the nav sensor cluster and fixing the ventral turret, Rei-aktuu." He groaned as he stretched again.

"Stop acting like an old man." She shot him a devilish smile and tapped some controls at the gunnery station. "Diagnostics are good but we'll want to give it a try with the turret extended."

While he waited for the droids to finish their work, Taz unpacked the armored EVA suits he'd bought at a spacer's surplus market and hung them in the cockpit's equipment locker. Then he went to Chimera's cargo bay and started stowing the food and dry goods.

He ticked off his expenditures in his head. Eight-thousand for the consumables and supplies, two thousand for the fuel, twenty for the weapons. "I'd better start looking for cargo and passengers or the bank's going to take her right back from me," Taz mumbled. He sat at the holo terminal in the lounge and punched up RCS's account on the Spacer Guild's for-hire site. Postings weren't cheap and he had to pay by the character. He started typing, remembering to use the common abbreviations that Sera had shown him:

INDEPENDENT TRANSPORT FOR-HIRE SUBMISSION

Offer:

  > RLF SKIPJACK CHIMERA DEP ANSIBLE FS 4HRS FOR LANTILLIES VIA GAMOR-TRAX-RANDON

  > PICKUP AT AFS OR VANDOR. STOPS NEGOTIABLE

  > 2 BAYS 50T EA

  > 2 DBL CABINS FRESHERS H2O SHOWERS

  > VETERAN CREW. CONTACT CAPT TAZ OKTOS, RIXON CHARTER SERVICE

  > AFS BAY 19-C2

Transponder Code:

  >

BoSS Reg Nbr:

  >

He entered the Chimera's transponder code and BoSS registration number, reviewed the entry, then punched TRANSMIT. After a few seconds, he received a confirmation message.

Taz returned to the cockpit as the last loader droid was retreating and found Reiko running a final check on the systems. "How does it look?"

"Green across the board," answered the engineer, wearing a satisfied grin. "Want to test her out?"

"Sure do." Taz took the pilot's seat and powered up the repulsors. He checked the exterior cameras to be sure there were no wayward beings—organic or otherwise—near the bay. Finding it clear, he clasped the control grips and glanced excitedly at Reiko. "Here we go."

Taz increased repulsor power and watched as the floor fell away. The Skipjack Chimera rose a few meters off the duracrete, the whine of the repulsors ringing off the walls.

Reiko nodded. "Looking good, Taz." She switched the panel to gunnery mode and selected the ventral turret. They felt a quiet mechanical thud through their feet. "Turret extended to attack position." Rei twisted the twin grips in her hands. The ion cannon barrels swept left and right in response to Reiko's movements. She tested the elevation and found it to be functioning within its nominal parameters. "Everything checks out. Great work, Taz-grasha!"

Taz set the ship down, wearing a grin that split his face. "I'll say it again, you're a genius, Rei-aktuu."

"Nah, this is all routine stuff. You'd have gotten her into shape just as well."

"I don't have a tenth of your skill with ship's systems."

"Oh, I don't know. You do alright."

"There's that droid socket in engineering. Maybe I'll see if I can find an astromech. For major repairs, I mean."

"A droid always makes a good addition to a ship's crew!" exclaimed Reiko, looking delighted at the thought.

Taz leaned back in his seat. "I put an entry on the guild board with a 4-hour departure. Probably too short to get any takers, but I can't think of any reason to hang around this station. You?"

"Not really, no. Plus, I'm sure Sera-sha is missing me by now!"

"Lyra's probably driving her crazy," agreed Taz. Not having her here is making me crazy. "They should still be in transit. I'll send a message to Lantillies to let them know we'll meet them there." He tapped out a note on the hyperwave terminal, then started feeding coordinates into the navcomp for the jump to Lantillies.