James Luceno - Tarkin

Teller turned to them. “Everything locked down back there?”

The woman, Anora, nodded. “The outer hatch is fully sealed. The air lock, not so much.” She gestured with her pointed chin to the Zygerrian. “Hask’s going to keep working on it — since it was her blaster that did the damage.”

Hask snorted. “When she slammed into me.” She spoke Basic flawlessly, but with a thick accent.

Anora showed her a long-suffering look. “You were supposed to keep the safety on.”

“For the last time,” she said, “I’m not a soldier, and I’ll never be one.”

“Plenty of blame to go around,” Teller said, cutting them off. “The holocams survive?”

Enthusiasm informed Hask’s nod. Her head bore a symmetrical pattern of small spurs. “They’re in the main cabin. I’ll get started slaving them to the HoloNet comm board—”

“As soon as she’s repaired the air lock,” Anora said, blue-gray eyes bright over her smile.

Hask ignored her. “Nice of Tarkin’s stormtroopers to carry some of the storeroom components aboard. I thought we were going to have to sacrifice them.”

“We have Tarkin to thank for a lot of things,” Teller said. He swung forward in time to catch the end of Artoz’s instrument rundown.

“Air lock overrides, blast-tinting for the viewports … What else?”

“Do all the Emperor’s Moffs rate one of these?” Anora asked, running a hand over the console in appreciation.

“Only Tarkin,” Artoz said, “as far as we know.”

“A testament to his friendship with Sienar,” Teller said.

“Sienar Fleet Systems wasn’t the only contributor,” Artoz amended. “The company’s design sense is all over the corvette, but every shipbuilder from Theed Engineering to Cygnus Spaceworks played a part in outfitting it.”

“Not to mention Tarkin himself,” Teller said. “The Moff was designing ships for Eriadu’s Outland Security Force when he was nineteen.”

Hask made a sour face. “More Prefsbelt Academy legends.”

Anora shook her head negatively. “True by all accounts.”

Teller perched on the arm of one of the secondary acceleration chairs. “The way I heard it, Eriadu was losing a lot of its lommite shipments to a pirate group that had fortified the bow of one of their ships to use as a rostrum — a kind of battering ram — after destroying too much cargo with their lasers.”

“The pirates weren’t acquainted with ion cannons?” Salikk said from the pilot’s seat.

Teller glanced at the Gotal. “Seswenna’s ships were too well ray-shielded for that — another Tarkin innovation, I might add. Anyway, he designed a narrow-profile ship with cannons that could swivel on pintles to direct all firepower forward. Confronted the rammer bow-on.”

“Damn the particle beams, full speed ahead,” Hask said, still refusing to buy into the legend.

Teller nodded. “Burned through the pirates’ armor like a knife through butter and blew the ship apart.” He turned to point to toggles on the control console. “Same system here.”

Cala grinned. “Should come in handy.”

“We can hope,” Artoz said, giving the console a final appraisal with his right eye while his left remained fixed on Salikk. “Proximity alarms, hypercomm unit, Imperial HoloNet encryptor …”

“Why is it called the Carrion Spike ?” Anora said.

Teller drew his lips in and shook his head. “Not a clue.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment, gazing through the viewports at the Murkhana system’s small outermost planet and the vast starfield beyond.

“I still can’t get over Vader being there,” Hask said finally. “I mean, why would the Emperor send him to escort Tarkin?”

“Vader paid Murkhana a visit just after the war ended,” Cala said. “Executed a Black Sun Twi’lek racketeer, among other acts.”

“Still,” Hask said. “Vader …”

“Stop calling him by name,” Anora said harshly; then softened her tone to add: “He’s a machine. A terrorist.” She looked at Teller. “You took a real risk having him and Tarkin walk right into that sliding door ambush.”

Teller shrugged it off. “We had to make the scenario ring true. Besides, their getting themselves blown up wouldn’t have affected our plans one way or another.”

“The Emperor wouldn’t have been happy losing two of his top henchmen,” Cala pointed out.

“He’s not going to be happy either way,” Teller said.

The console issued a loud tone, and Cala lifted his eyes to the display. “Uh, Teller, we’ve got a starship on our tail.”

Teller’s dark eyebrows quirked together. “Can’t be. You certain you have the stealth system enabled?”

The Koorivar nodded. “Status indicators say so. We should be invisible to scanners.”

Everyone crowded around the sensor suite. “Put the ship on screen,” Teller said.

Cala’s stubby-fingered hands raced across the keypad, and a black ship with forward fangs resolved on the display. “Waiting for a transponder signature …”

“Don’t bother,” Salikk said. “That’s Faazah’s ship. The Parsec Predator .”

Teller nodded. “The Sugi arms dealer.”

“Murkhana’s most wanted,” Salikk said.

Cala ran his gaze over the sensor indicators. “Matching our every move.”

Teller stared at the screen and scratched his head in bafflement. “I’m willing to entertain explanations.”

Artoz spoke first. “Perhaps this Sugi is simply heading for the same jump point we are.”

Teller nodded to Salikk. “Put this thing through some maneuvers, and let’s see what happens.”

The corvette changed vectors, slewing to port, then to starboard before rocketing through an abrupt, twisting climb that delivered them swiftly to the dark side of the impact-cratered planet.

Everyone fell silent again, waiting for the Koorivar’s update. “The Predator ’s still with us, just emerging from the transitor.” Cala swiveled to Teller. “And here’s something strange: We’re not being scanned.”

Teller and Artoz looked perplexed. “You stated that it is matching our every maneuver,” the Mon Cal said.

“It is,” Cala emphasized. “And I repeat, we’re not being scanned. No sensor lock, no indication that we’re being observed.”

Teller traded glances with Artoz. “A homing beacon?” he suggested.

The Mon Cal’s confusion didn’t abate.

Teller looked at Hask. “It was your job to check for trackers.”

“I did,” the Zygerrian all but snarled. “There weren’t any.”

“Or you didn’t find any,” Teller said.

“Why would this Faazah attach a locater to Tarkin’s ship?” Anora said. “Or is that just a Sugi thing to do?”

“Offhand, I can’t imagine a reason,” Artoz said. “But we can certainly outrace the Predator if we have to.”

Teller considered it. “That doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better, Doc. Not if we’ve got a faulty stealth system.”

“Teller, we are not being scanned,” Cala repeated. “The stealth system is operating impeccably. Check the status displays for yourself if you don’t trust me.”

Teller made a placating gesture. “Of course I trust you. I just don’t get it.”

“Should we contact our ally?” Salikk said.

“No, not yet,” Teller said. “We’ll be updated soon enough, in any case.”

“Unless …,” Hask began.

Anora aimed a faint smile at the Zygerrian. “I’ll bet I know what you’re going to say, and yes, that occurred to me, too.”

Teller and the others looked at the two of them. “What am I missing?” Teller asked.

“Vader,” Hask said, exhaling. “Vader and Tarkin.”

Teller continued to regard them. “What, the Sugi is giving them a ride?”