“I said Sy Bisti will do,” the alien repeated. “Please; be seated.”
“Ah… thank you,” Qennto said, pulling out chairs for himself and Maris and nodding to Car’das to do likewise. The chair backs were contoured a bit oddly for humans, Car’das noticed as he sat down, but not uncomfortably so.
“I’m Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo of the Chiss Ascendance,” the alien continued. “This is the Springhawk, Picket Force Two command vessel of the Expansionary Defense Fleet.”
Expansionary Fleet. Car’das felt a shiver run up his back. Did the name imply this Chiss Ascendancy was in the process of expanding outward?
He hoped not. The last thing the Republic needed right now was a threat from outside its borders. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was doing his best, but there was a lot of resistance to change in the old business-as-usual attitudes and casual corruption of the Coruscant government. Even now, five years after its little misadventure on Naboo, the Trade Federation had vet to be punished for its blatant aggression, despite Palpatine’s best efforts to bring it to judgment. Resentment and frustration simmered throughout the galaxy, with rumors of new reform or secession movements surfacing every other week.
Qennto loved it, of course. Government bureaucracies with their dozens of fees, service charges, and flat-out prohibitions were an ideal operating environment for small-scale smuggling operations like his. And Car’das had to admit that during his time aboard the Bargain Hunter, their activities had earned a very respectable profit.
What Qennto perhaps failed to understand was that while a little governmental instability could be useful, too much would be as bad for smugglers as it would be for anyone else.
A full-scale war, needless to say, would be as bad as it got. For everyone.
“And you are… ?” Mitth’raw’nuruodo asked, shifting his glowing red eyes to Car’das.
Car’das opened his mouth— “I’m Dubrak Qennto, Commander,” Qennto pill in before he could speak. “Captain of the—”
“And you are… ?” Mitth’raw’nuruodo repeated, his eyesstill on Car’das, a slight but noticeable emphasis on the pronoun.
Car’das looked sideways at Qennto, got a microscopic nod. “I’m Jorj Car’das,” he said. “Crewer on the freighter Bargain Hunter:”
“And these?” Mitth’raw’nuruodo asked, gesturing to the others.
Again, Car’das looked at Qennto. The other’s expression had gone rather sour, but he nevertheless gave his junior crewer another small nod. “This is my captain, Dubrak Qennto,” Car’das told the commander. “And his—” Girlfriend?
Copilot? Partner? “—his second in command, Maris Ferasi.”
Mitth’raw’nuruodo nodded to each in turn, then turned back to Car’das. “Why are you here?”
“We’re Corellian traders, from one of the systems in the Galactic Republic,” Car’das said.
“K’rell’n,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, as if trying out the word. “Traders, you say? Not explorers or scouts?”
“No, not at all,” Car’das assured him. “We hire out our ship to take cargo between star systems.”
“And the other vessel?” Mitth’raw’nuruodo asked.
“Pirates of some sort,” Qennto put in before Car’das could answer. “We were running from them when we had some trouble with our hyperdrive, which is how we ended up here.”
“Did you know these pirates?” Mitth’raw’nuruodo asked.
“How could we possibly—?” Qennto began.
“Yes, we’ve had trouble with them before,” Car’das interrupted. There’d been something in Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s voice as he asked that question… “I think they were gunning specifically for us.”
“You must be carrying a valuable cargo.”
“It’s nothing fancy,” Qennto said, shooting a warning look at Car’das. “A shipment of furs and exotic luxury garments.
We’re most grateful to you for coming to our aid.”
Car’das felt his throat tighten. The bulk of their cargo was indeed luxury clothing, but sewn into the filigree collar of one of the furs was an assortment of smuggled firegems. If Mitth’raw’nuruodo decided to search the shipment and found them, there was going to be a very unhappy Drixo the Hutt in the Bargain Hunter‘s future.
“You’re welcome,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “I’d be curious to see what your people consider luxury garments.
Perhaps you’ll show me your cargo before you leave.”
“I’d be delighted,” Qennto said. “Does that mean you’re releasing us?”
“Soon,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo assured him. “First I need to examine your vessel and confirm that you’re indeed the innocent travelers you claim.”
“Of course, of course,” Qennto said easily. “We’ll give you a complete tour anytime you want.”
“Thank you,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “But that can wait until we reach my base. Until then, resting quarters have been prepared for you. Perhaps later you’ll permit me to show you Chiss hospitality”
“We would be both grateful and honored, Commander,” Qennto said, inclining his head in a small bow.
“I’d just like to mention, though, that we’re on a very tight schedule, which our unexpected detour has made that much tighter. We’d appreciate it if you could send us on our way as quickly as possible.”
“Of course,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “The base isn’t far.”
“Is it in this system?” Qennto asked. He lifted a hand before the Chiss could answer. “Sorry, sorry—none of my business.”
“True,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo agreed. “However, it will do no harm to tell you that it’s in a different system entirely.”
“Ah,” Qennto said. “May I ask when we’ll be leaving to go there?”
“We’ve already left,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said mildly.
“We made the jump to hyperspace approximately four standard minutes ago.”
Qennto frowned. “Really? I didn’t hear or feel anything.”
“Perhaps our hyperdrive systems are superior to yours,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, standing up. “Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you to the resting area.”
He led the way another five meters down the corridor to another door, where he touched a striped panel on the wall.
“I’ll send word when I want you again,” he said as the door slid open.
“We’ll look forward to further conversation,” Qennto said, giving a truncated bow as he eased Maris behind him through the doorway. “Thank you, Commander.”
The two of them disappeared inside. Inclining his head to the commander, Car’das followed.
The room was compactly furnished, containing a three-tier bunk bed against one wall and a fold-down table and bench seats on the other. Beside the bunk bed were three large drawers built into the wall, while to the right was a door leading into what seemed to be a compact refresher station.
“What do you think he’s going to do with us?” Maris murmured, looking around.
“He’ll let us go,” Qennto assured her, glancing into the refresher station and then sitting down on the lowest cot, hunching forward to keep from bumping his head on the one above it. “The real question is whether we’ll be taking the firegems with us.”
Car’das cleared his throat. “Should we be talking about this?” he asked, looking significantly around the room.
“Relax,” Qennto growled. “They don’t speak a word of Basic.” His eyes narrowed. “And as long as we’re on the subject of speaking, why the frizz did you tell him we knew Progga?”
“There was something in his eves and voice just then,”
Car’das said. “Something that said he already knew all about it, and that we’d better not get caught lying to him.”
Qennto snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe there were survivors from Progga’s crew,”
Maris suggested.
“Not a chance,” Qennto said firmly. “You saw what the ship looked like. The thing’d been peeled open like a ration bar.”
“I don’t know how he knew,” Car’das insisted. “All I know is that he did know.”
“And you shouldn’t lie to an honorable man anyway,”
Maris murmured.
“Who, him? Honorable?” Qennto scoffed. “Don’t you believe it. Military men are all alike, and the smooth ones the worst of the lot.”
“I’ve known quite a few honorable soldiers,” Maris said stiffly. “Besides, I’ve always had a good feel for people. I think this Mitth’raw—I think the commander can be trusted.” She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think trying to con him would be a good idea, either.”