Джеймс Лучено: Cloak Of Deception

While the equatorial arrangement was adequate for repelling lateral attacks, it proved completely ineffective for countering attacks launched from above or below, where nearly all the freighters' crucial systems were located: tractor beam and deflector shield generators, hyperdrive reactors, and the central control computer.

Thus the Trade Federation had been forced to invest in bigger and better shield generators, thicker armor plating, and, ultimately, in squadrons of starfighters. But starfighter allotments were subject to senate sanction, and freighters like the Revenue frequently found themselves defenseless against fighter craft piloted by seasoned raiders.

Well aware of these shortcomings, Daultay Dofine saw the ship and its cargo of precious lommite rapidly slipping from his grasp.

"Shields holding at fifty percent," the Gran reported from across the bridge, "but we are imperiled. A few more strikes and we'll be disa4." "Where is the Acquisitor?" Dofine whined. "It should have arrived by now!" A volley from the Nebula Front's gunship-Captain Gobi's personal gunship-rocked the bridge. As Dofine had learned in previous engagements, sheer size was no guarantee of protection, much less victory, and the freighter's three- kilometer diameter only made it a target that couldn't be missed.

"Shields marginal at forty percent." "Quad lasers one through six are not responding," the Sullustan added. "The starfighters are concentrating fire on the deflector shield generator and drive reactors." Dofine firmed his fleshy lips in anger.

"Instruct the central control computer to activate all droids, all ship defenses, and prepare to repel boarders," he brayed. "Over my dead body will Captain Cohl set foot on this bridge." In the starboard hangar arm, Cohl's team had barely made it through the bulkhead door when every device in zone three conspired to prevent them from getting one meter closer to the acceleration compensator shaft that connected the centersphere to its embracing arms.

Overhead cranes threw grappling claws at them; towering derricks toppled in their path; binary loadlifters dogged them like mechanical nightmares; and oxygen levels plummeted. Even worker droids joined the fray, brandishing fusioncutters and power calibrators as if they were flame projectors and vibroblades.

"Central control's turned the entire ship against us," Cohl yelled.

Rella squeezed off bolts at a posse of hydrospanner-wielding PK droids.

"What did you expect, Cohl-the royal welcome?" Cohl gestured Boiny, Rella, and the rest of his team toward the final bulkhead that stood between them and the centersphere turbolifts. Sirens shrieked and howled in the thin air. Crisscrossing and ricocheting blaster bolts created a pyrotechnic display worthy of a Republic Day parade on Coruscant.

Cohl fired on the run, losing count of how many droids he had dropped and how many blaster gas cartridges his weapon had expended. Two of his band were pinned down by droid fire, but there was little he or anyone else could do to help them. With luck they would get to the rendezvous point, even if they had to drag themselves there.

Pursued by three binary loadlifters, the team raced through the final bulkhead door and fought their way to the closest bank of turbolifts.

The hatch that accessed the transfer tubes was locked down.

"Boiny!" Cohl shouted.

The Rodian holstered his blaster and hurried forward, eyeing the hatch up and down, then moved to the control panel set into the wall. Preparing to slice the code, he rubbed his palms together and cracked his long, suction- tip-equipped fingers. Before he could lay a hand on the panel keys, Cohl slapped him in the back of the head.

"What is this, amateur night?" Cohl asked with a menacing scowl. "Blow the thing." Define was pacing the walkway when the bridge hatch blew inward, loosing a brief storm of paralyzing heat that tumbled him to the deck.

Cohl's band of six hurried in behind a roiling cloud of smoke, their mimetic suits allowing them to blend even with the burnished bulkheads of the bridge.

Quickly and efficiently, they disarmed the Gran and shot restraining bolts onto the chest plastrons of the droids.

Cohl waved one of his men toward the communications station.

"Contact the Hawk-Bat.

Tell them we've secured the bridge. Have the starfighters deploy for defense, and stand by to cover our exfiltration." He waved another of his cohorts toward the Gran's duty station. "Order the central control computer to stand down. Have it open all bulkheads in the hangar arms." The human nodded and dropped down below the walkway.

Cohl tapped a code into his wrist comlink and raised it to his mouth.

"Base team, we have the bridge. Move the pod into zone three and set it down as close as possible to the inner wall hangar portal. We'll be here soon enough." Cohl zeroed the comlink. His eyes roamed over the faces of his five living captives, settling finally on Dofine. Then he drew his blaster.

Spreading his arms wide in a gesture of surrender, Dofine took two backward steps as Cohl approached.

"You would shoot an unarmed individual, Captain Cohl?" Cohl pressed the barrel of the weapon to Dofine's ribcage. "I'd shoot an unarmed Neimoidian — comand I'd sleep better for it." He glared at Dofine for a long moment, then holstered the blaster and turned to the Rodian member of his band.

"Boiny, get to work. And be quick about it." Cohl swung back to Dofine.

"Where's the rest of your crew, Commander?" Dofine swallowed and found his voice. "Returning by shuttle from Dorvalla." Cohl nodded. "Good, that'll simplify things." Repeatedly poking Dofine in the chest with his forefinger, Cohl moved him backwards along the walkway until they reached the navigator's chair. A final poke sent Define off the walkway and into the seat.

Cohl jumped down to face him. "We need to discuss your cargo, Commander."

"The cargo?" Dofine stammered. "Lommite-destined for SluisVan." "To the depths with the ore," Cohl snarled. "I'm talking about the aurodium." Dofine tried to keep his red eyes from bulging. His nictitating membranes spasmed, and he blinked half a dozen times. "Aurodium?" Cohl leaned toward him. "You're carrying two billion in aurodium ingots." Dofine stiffened under Cohl's gaze.

"You-you must be mistaken, Captain. The Revenue is carrying ore." Cohl raised himself to his considerable height.

"I'll say it once more. You're carrying aurodium ingots-butribes proffered by Outer Rim worlds to ensure the continued blessing of the Trade Federation." Dofine sneered, in spite of himself. "So it is currency you seek.

I had always heard that the notorious Captain Cohl was an idealist. Now I see that he is a simple thief." Cohl almost grinned. "We can't all be licensed thieves like you and the rest of your bunch." "The Trade Federation does not deal in violence and death, Captain." Cohl grabbed two fistfuls of Dofine's rich raiment and yanked him halfway out of the chair. "Not yet you don't." He pushed Dofine back into the seat. "But we'll save that for another day. What matters now is the aurodium." "And should I refuse to submit?" Without taking his eyes from Dofine, Cohl pointed to his Rodian comrade. "Boiny, there, is affixing a thermal detonator to the Revenue's fuel-driver control system. As I understand it, the device will trigger an explosion large enough to destroy your ship in… Boiny?" "Sixty minutes, Captain," Boiny shouted, holding aloft a metallic sphere the size of a stinkmelon.

Cohl pulled an object from the thigh pouch pocket of his mimetic suit and slapped it against the back of Dofine's left hand. Dofine saw that it was a timer, already counting down from sixty minutes. He raised his eyes to Cohl's steadfast gaze.

"About the ingots," Cohl said.

Dofine nodded. "Yes, all right-if you promise to spare the ship." Cohl laughed shortly. "The Revenue is history. But you have my word I'll spare your life if you do as you're told." Again, Dofine nodded. "That way I'll at least live to see you executed." Cohl shrugged. "You never know, Commander." He straightened and grinned at Rella. "What did I tell you? Easy as-was "Captain," Cohls man at the communications station cut him off. "Vessel emerging from hyperspace.