Chapter 40: Chapter 40

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

Serenno, 39 BBY/961 GSC.

“Fighter on sensors captain, coming from the asteroid belt. Delta-6.” Capt. Borgin nodded and, a moment later his sensor officer added, “IFF received. It’s Ms. Mereel.”

“Tight beam comm request from the Dagger,” his communications officer reported.

“Send it to my station,” the captain nodded, and the speaker on the chair crackled with static. “Welcome back, Dagger. How was your hunt?”

“No--ing -- rep-rt, R-nger. Ret-rn--g -- base.”

“Understood Dagger. Your comm unit seems to be on the fritz. Might want to have that checked out before you head back out.”

“Af---ative R-nger.D----r out.”

Capt. Borgin frowned as the transmission disconnected. Tapping away at his chair controls, he hooked into the sensors and ran a scan of the Dagger as it dropped into atmosphere. Everything came back normal… except for the lack of life signs.

I see, he mused, making sure no one else had run the same scan he just had. He kept an eye on the sensor system and waited. A few minutes later, he frowned at seeing what he had expected, but hoped not to. Standing, he said, “Lieutenant, you have the bridge. There’s something I need to take care of.”

Making his way down to the fighter bay, he found his flight leader and waved the man over. “Sir!”

“I need a shuttle prepped and a pilot to fly it, Chief. Quietly,” he instructed.

“Aye, sir. Will do. I can have one warmed up in five minutes.”

“That’s good,” he nodded, before hurrying off to the area of the ship that their small contingent of marines called home. Soon enough, he had a small group of marines armed and armored, boarded onto the shuttle, and they left for the ship following the Ranger in this orbital path.

I pray it’s one of the junior officers. If it’s the captain, there’s going to be hell to pay. The entire program would be called into question for the actions of one man…

The low thrum of a familiar engine caused Cindy to perk up. Looking up from where she was welding a mount to turn a fixed gun into a turret onto her tiny new boss’s ship, she raised an eyebrow as she spotted the sleek black form of the modified Delta-6 returning. She frowned as she watched it set down in its assigned bay beside the Rusted Silver, something about the landing feeling very… unnatural to her eye. Mechanical, even.

Shutting off the welder, she pulled the goggles up and rested them on her cap as the R3 unit attached to it descended and made its way over to her, before beeping plaintively. Humming, she put her hands on her hips and cocked them to one side. “Something wrong, little guy?”

It beeped again, before turning around and heading back to the ship. For a moment, a thrill of dread ran through her at the possibility of what she might be about to find. If her boss hadn’t climbed out already, then there could only be a few reasons for that—and Cindy could think of a few that might actually be her fault, if she had messed up somewhere. She doubted it, but it was possible. The life support system could’ve been wired in backwards, or could have shorted. Or the inertial dampener failed and the cute red girl had blacked out at some point on her return.

Deciding there was no point to fretting over it, she hurried over and hit the emergency manual release for the cockpit. The blacked out transparisteel hatch flipped up and Cindy blinked at what she found inside. “It’s… empty?”

One of the buttons on the console was blinking steadily and she hummed. Hefting herself up into the cockpit, she dropped into the chair and hit the button. The screen lit up with a view from the cockpit’s camera, showing the armored visage of her boss. Reaching up, she pulled the helmet off and looked into the camera.

“Cindy. If everything has gone to plan, Arthree will have made contact with you immediately upon landing. Based on my best guess, you have very little time for what comes next—a very brief window for us to act in. I’m afraid I need to ask a favor of you, and it is of the utmost importance and urgency. I will of course compensate you for your time. I need you to go to the palace and deliver something to Master Dooku for me, in person—this cannot be done over comms, because I suspect the planetary communication network to be compromised. Security on the palace has been tightened, so you’ll need something to prove you’re there on my behalf. In the cooler on your right, you’ll find a data disc and my lightsaber—one of them, anyway. Take them with you. The saber should get you in the door without getting turned away. Do not relinquish that data disc to anyone but Master Dooku. Thank you in advance.”

The recording cut off and Cindy let out a quiet, “Huh.”

Opening the small cooler, she found a data disc and what looked like an over-engineered flashlight. Stuffing the data disc down the top of her bikini, she grabbed the lightsaber and hopped out, closing up the hatch. Looking the weapon over, her lips twitched up into a mischievous little smile as she studied it for a moment to determine how it worked. Finally, she reached up and thumbed a ring at the top to the left.

The blade clicked on with a snap-hiss and began resonating a thrum that vibrated the air (and her hand) rather pleasantly. “Ooh, mama likes~!”

She gave it an experimental swish, finding far more resistance than she was expecting. Finally, she shut it off and pocketed it, before hurrying over to her work truck—a yellow speeder with an enclosed cab, equipped with a much larger engine than was standard and a set of tow cables in the front and back. Leaving the shop, she set off for the palace on the hill overlooking the city.

“I really hope I don’t get shot today…”

“You really think they would have the nerve to send someone to try to dictate terms?”

Dooku chuckled at his sister’s question. “Oh yes. The Trade Federation think very highly of themselves. It could be any day now that they think they have softened us up enough—”

The intercom buzzed and Jenza reached out, touching the button. “Yes, Mira?”

“Ma’am, sir, there’s someone here to speak with Count Dooku in the lobby,” the secretary said. “She claims to have a message from Ms. Mereel, and her lightsaber.”

Dooku stood, smoothing his suit and robe down. “I’ll be right there.”

“That sounds serious,” Jenza murmured, standing and following after him as they made their way towards the elevator. “Didn’t she go out pirate hunting?”

“She did,” Dooku confirmed as the elevator doors closed and it began to descend.

“And having Tanya’s lightsaber? I know how you Jedi are about those…” Jenza led, and Dooku nodded. “You think something has happened?”

Dooku considered in silence as the elevator descended. As it slowed, he shook his head. “I believe she is still alive. But if she sent someone to relay a message instead of coming herself, or calling, then she is likely either currently engaged with the enemy, or preparing to do so.”

The door to the elevator opened and they stepped out. As they moved across the lobby, Jenza asked, “Shouldn’t we contact the fleet and send someone to help?”

“If that was the sort of help she needed, she would have done so herself,” Dooku shook his head as he spotted the guest—a young woman in rather revealing attire who, from the oil stains and grease smudges, appeared to be a mechanic of some sort.

The palace guards came to attention as they approached. The young lady looked nervous so Dooku sent her a reassuring smile. “You have a message for me?”

She reached into a pouch at her side and held out a familiar lightsaber, which Dooku took. He didn’t even have to turn it on to confirm who it belonged to—he could feel Tanya imprinted on it in the Force. “Yeah, the boss sent her droid and ship down with that, and this,” she said, before reaching into her top and pulling out a data disc. “Said it was really time sensitive.”

“I see,” Dooku murmured, accepting the disc and pocketing it.

“Did she say anything else?” Jenza asked, and the blonde woman thought for a minute, before nodding.

“Just that she didn’t want to send it over the comms, or want me using the comms. That the planetary network might not be safe.”

Dooku and Jenza shared a look. “Thank you. I will look into this immediately.”

The young woman smiled and nodded, tossing a wave over her shoulder as she hurried out of the building. Dooku slipped the lightsaber onto his belt and made his way back to the elevator, Jenza hurrying to keep up with his longer stride. They stepped back into the elevator and were soon on the way back up. As soon as the doors closed, Jenza asked, “Is your Padawan usually this secretive?”

Dooku hummed. “Only regarding operational security. She would not go to these lengths if she did not feel they were necessary.”

The elevators opened and they moved back into their shared office, retaking their seats as Dooku slotted the disc into his computer. The disc began to play a video file immediately, Tanya’s image appearing on the screen.

“I’ll be brief,” she began, and the video changed to display the silhouette of a ship. “I found the pirates. As far as I can tell, what we’re dealing with is a single Cumulus-class corsair. There are seventy crew and the ship has twelve snub fighters. They’re very professional looking. Matching uniforms. Very neat and tidy. I suspect military or professional mercs—a PMC perhaps. They’re here working for someone else and that other party has at least one informant placed highly within Serenno. I suspect someone in the navy, but I could be wrong. However, if I’m right, I’ll know soon and the traitor will give themselves away. If I’m successful, I’ll be returning with the ship. With it captured, their informant, sleeper agent, or whatever this person is might decide to scuttle the ship rather than let us interrogate any prisoners or scrape data from its logs. You’re the only ones with the access and authority to both monitor what’s going on from the ground and order the navy to stand down before someone starts shooting—and if they shoot anyway, to have them dealt with.”

The pair of siblings listened to the rest of the short message. Before it had even finished, Jenza tapped the button for the intercom. “Mira, have the car brought around please.”

Standing, Jenza asked, “Shall we go see what sort of commotion your Padawan has likely caused by now?”

“We did ask her to do it,” Dooku murmured as he stood and they left the room again. “I imagine that whatever it is, it’s going to give someone a headache.”

My computation orb set off a silent alarm as the flight time I’d calculated Arthree would need to get the Dagger back within sensor range of the planet and send the first of my pre-recorded messages out passed. I kept my senses open as I watched the area ahead of me and a bit to my right, where the probe droid I’d first encountered would be returning from if they recalled it.

A few minutes later, I felt it as a sense of relief settled over a number of the crew on the ‘pirate’ ship, dispelling the tension I’d felt from several of them. Checking my timer, I saw there was no way Arthree had made it down to the surface yet, and ‘comms issues’ would have prevented contact with the surface, so they wouldn’t know to radio an all clear. Which meant there was really only one possible source of such a transmission.

Well, well. Looks like the ‘pirate’ captain was being literal when he spoke about some ‘highest placed’ informant. Someone in the orbital fleet is working for the enemy. I’ll have to trust my message makes it to Master Dooku and he handles that before someone does something stupid.

Movement registered on the formula I was using—not the expected movement of the surrounding asteroids, but something moving quickly in a straight line along the path I was watching. I couldn’t even see the probe, but I trusted my other senses. So, I readied the surprise I’d prepared and rushed away from the asteroid into the path behind the droid. I finally spotted it and hurried after, closing in quickly until I was practically pressed up against the back side of the droid.

We closed quickly with the corsair and, as we neared, a small hatch opened in the side. I waited for the droid to pass through before dropping the two cylinders inside. Then, I moved away, heading to a nearby emergency hatch. Magnetizing my boots, I stuck myself to the hull and latched on, pressing my body back against the hull.

Closing my eyes, I projected myself outside my body and returned to the now closed hatch. Passing through the hull, I grabbed the two cylinders and made my way down the shaft. Once I was out with my cargo, I stuck to the ceiling and flew towards the back of the ship, making my way towards where I’d located the engineering section—where they kept the engine room and, more importantly, life support.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Soon enough, I had dragged my payload inside and over to the life support system. Opening the atmospheric scrubber up, I engaged an emergency maintenance bypass—something put there to cycle air on the ship without sending it through the scrubber for those times when the scrubber needed to be taken apart and maintained. Normally, there was enough atmosphere on a ship this size that it would be a few hours before CO2 built up to dangerous levels, giving someone plenty of time to repair or replace the unit.

I shoved my cargo in, before jerking the pins out of the grenades. There was just enough time for me to close the hatch before the two gas grenades began venting their contents straight into the air output and into the rest of the ship. I yanked my consciousness back to my body and settled in to wait.

Normally I wouldn’t trust just two grenades to gas an entire ship and put them out, but whatever Ms. Arbor had whipped up for knocking out Jedi was super effective. I’d handed the grenades I’d collected off for testing to see if they could be reproduced when I’d arrived on Serenno. They had, thankfully, but apparently whoever Jenza had passed them off to had been particularly impressed and we were now putting the chemical into production as a non-lethal means of taking down biological targets.

Of course, the stuff was so strong that I wouldn’t even bother running the atmo scrubber. No, I’d wait until I got the ship back to Serenno and vent the atmo and just exchange it entirely, then run the scrubber to make sure it picked up anything that lingered.

I settled in to wait, but it didn’t take long as I began to feel people inside growing drowsy. By the time the first feelings of alarm stirred from the more suspicious and alert crewmen, it was too late.

Only when I felt the entire crew unconscious did I make my move. Standing up, I made my way over to the hatch and started trying emergency maintenance overrides. It only took three tries before the hatch opened and I made my way in, closing it behind me and cycling through the airlock.

Bringing my rifle up just in case, I made my way to the rear of the ship, following my senses as I began hunting down the crew. Anyone I found, I grabbed with the Force and pulled along with me, piling them in the main gangway. Once the rear was clear, I pulled my prisoners into the hangar deck in the middle of the ship and moved them all into a pile. Taking a moment to find some rope, I took a moment to sweep them for weapons and tools, then secured the prisoners I had gathered so far.

Once I was finished with the first batch, I moved forward, checking level by level as I collected everyone I came across, saving the bridge for last. Then, I went to the maintenance area and sent out a recall to all of the droids on the ship, setting them to return and shut down while they charged, so no one got any bright ideas about using a droid to get free.

Only once I was sure I had everyone, they had been cleared of weapons and tools, they were securely tied up, and the droids were taken care of did I allow myself to relax. Heading up to the bridge, I spent a few moments routing comms and sensors over to the helm so I wouldn’t have to bounce between stations. When that was done, I moved quickly to the helm and settled into the seat, thankful this ship used standard ship controls and not something silly and thematic for so-called pirates, like a giant wheel—which would be utterly ridiculous.

Shaking off the errant thought, I ran through a basic pre-flight check to make sure that everything was ready to go. Once the checks came back green, I took the yoke in hand and engaged the thrusters, setting the ship to roll one hundred and eight degrees on its Z-axis.

I raised an eyebrow at just how smoothly and quickly the ship moved for a vessel of its size as I watched the readouts from the sensors reporting back in realtime as the ship completed the maneuver in a matter of seconds. Deciding to test it a bit, I pulled up, raising the ship directly on the Y-axis without accelerating forward.

The ship quickly rose up out of the asteroid belt, like a submarine breaching the surface of the ocean and I whistled quietly at the speed and responsiveness of the thrusters. “Okay, let’s see how she handles,” I murmured, engaging the main engines and throttling up to one half.

The Cumulus-class corsair leapt forward much faster than I had been expecting, accelerating almost twice the speed a vessel its size should. For comparison, I knew the standard Republic Navy CR90 corvette topped out at 60 MGLT with a maximum acceleration of 2100 G. This felt much more responsive by comparison.

The obvious first question I’d asked in my studies was ‘What’s a MGLT and what does it translate to in real numbers?’

MGLT was the standard ‘megalight’ measurement. One MGLT was 0.001 C in real space—so 5 MGLT was 0.005 C in real space. That was 300 kilometers per second, or 186 miles per second—or 18000 KPH and 11160 MPH.

Why call it a mega- light if it was only one tenth of one percent of C, when if they were using something similar to metric it should be one centilight, or a millilight? Marketing, obviously. Megalight sounds faster than microlight.

Since they were standard on most ships, I tapped away at the computer and found the manual for the ship and its stated specs. Reading them over, I hummed quietly. Theoretically, it should do about 65 MGLT and 2275 G. Except, there were notes about the engine and thrusters having been replaced and no exact current spec sheet.

Well, there’s one way to find out, I grinned.

I waited until the ship was clear of the asteroid field before pointing the ship at Serenno and shoving the throttle to the stops. The ship’s inertial dampeners fought against the acceleration and I found myself pushed back in my chair as the Cumulus blasted out of the asteroid field. As she sped up, I kept an eye on the speed indicator. Within only a few seconds, she leveled out and I got a steady reading—75 MGLT.

I whistled quietly as I settled back in my seat, easing the ship back down to 60 MGLT as I throttled back a bit. There was no need to scare the patrol fleet around Serenno and catch a missile sent my way.

Seventy-five MGLT was insane for a ship of this size. The Rusted Silver topped out at 90, and the Dagger at 100 after all of its modifications. That sort of speed was getting into the low end of fighter territory—or something you’d see from a smuggler with a freighter that was more engine than cargo space. It was just one more piece in a puzzle I was going to get an answer to as soon as we touched down and I could spend some time squeezing answers out of people—literally, if I had to.

She’s obviously had extensive work done. Better engines, computers, sensors, those new droids. All of that couldn’t have been cheap. This couldn’t have all been done just to disrupt trade on Serenno, could it? Would they spend that much just to put pressure on us?

Thinking about it, the answer really depended on what the purpose of the trade blockade was. If it was just about applying pressure to get at some new resource then no, I couldn’t see them spending that much. But if this was financial warfare conducted by an enemy state—a non-traditional state made up of traders and bankers—with the end goal being the furtherance of their goal in backing Ramil in the first place and seeing Serenno folded into their control, then I had a feeling they would be willing to throw many, many more credits at the problem to make it go away.

Those new ships can’t get here fast enough. We may need them sooner rather than later.

Serenno loomed closer through the forward transparisteel view port and eventually, I saw what I was expecting. A fighter wing pulled away from the planet as they spotted the Cumulus. Curiously, while they were obviously throwing out targeting, it quickly became apparent that they were having a hard time getting a lock.

Tapping into the comms system, I skipped the tight beam and flipped the comm to wide band, broadcasting in the clear for anyone in the system with the ability to pick it up to hear. “This is Jedi Padawan Tanya Mereel. On the authority of my Master, Count Dooku, I’ve captured this pirate vessel and claimed it as my own. Recall your fighters and stop targeting my ship. If you scratch the paint, it’s coming out of your pay. Please relay to ground control that I’ll be putting her down in the capital and I’ll need a security team on site to secure prisoners. That is all.”

I shut off the transmission and watched as the fighters changed course a few moments later, falling in and acting as an escort for my new toy, only breaking off as I passed the defensive line around the planet. Reentry went by quickly and I received a course from ground control for a berth to set the ship down in the spaceport. As soon as I descended far enough, I opened the ship up to cycle the atmosphere.

Once the ship was settled on its landing struts, I shut everything but the essential systems down and made my way below. According to the manual, the flight deck/hangar where the fighters were stored had an additional opening—a ramp that would temporarily close off one side of the lower deck with the turrets but would make it possible for easier ground loading of cargo. Otherwise, it could be used for mass embarkation or debarkation of crew. There was another ramp from the lower deck at the front for the crew as well.

Finding the ramp controls, I dragged my prisoners over with the Force and opened the ship up. I found a squad of security waiting with blaster rifles ready, larger transports parked nearby to take the prisoners wherever they were going to go for interrogation. In addition to the security team, a group of uniformed men and women hurried up the deck carrying a bunch of computer equipment, a large group of droids rolling or walking along behind them. I held up a hand to stop them, before nodding at the gear.

“What are you doing?” I asked, unwilling to let them onboard without knowing exactly what they intended.

The leader, a man wearing a major’s rank insignia, stepped up and saluted. “Serenno Intelligence Office, ma’am. This is my computer forensic analysis team. We’ve been ordered to go over everything on the ship’s computers and learn what we can from them.” Quieter, he added, “Also, to make sure there isn’t some sort of backup contingency in place to blow the reactor if the ship were captured, or if someone didn’t enter some kind of authentication code on a timer. Don’t worry, once we’ve gone through everything and made sure it’s safe, we’ll turn it back over to you and let you decide what to do with it.”

“…Having the spaceport explode would be bad,” I agreed, just as quietly. “Carry on, then.”

He nodded and hurried past, his people falling in behind him as they made their way inside and I continued down, dropping the floating group of supposed pirates in front of the security team. A few of the security members started untying the prisoners and securing them in cuffs, before moving them into the transports. I left them to their jobs and made my way through the space port, to the private hangar space where my other two personal ships were stored.

The taller, blonde form of Cindy greeted me as I entered the space, looking up from where she had been testing the action on the newly converted rear turrets. “Oh, hey boss lady! How’d it go?” she asked, cocking her hip to the side and leaning against the wing mounted turret she’d been working on.

“It went well,” I answered absently, pulling my helmet off and sticking it to the magnetized plate on my belt behind my left holsters for it. “Got a new ship out of it!”

“Oh yeah? Well, where is she?” Cindy asked, looking around as though she expected it to be hiding somewhere. Get full chapters from Nove1Fire.net

I pointed up, towards the level above us. “SIO is going over it now to gather evidence and make sure the previous owners didn’t leave behind any nasty surprises.”

Raising one blonde eyebrow, Cindy asked, “How big is it?”

“It’s a Cumulus-class corsair—effectively a corvette. The spec sheet said it’s five hundred feet long.”

Cindy whistled. “Nice catch. That’ll turn a neat profit, especially with the government willing to buy pretty much anything flying that they can mount guns on to add to the navy.”

“I’m not selling it,” I denied immediately.

The blonde sent me a curious look, before crossing her arms under her chest. Biting her lip, she said, “Ship that big would need a crew.” She began tapping off points on her fingers, “Pilot, weapons, communications, sensors, engineer, and maintenance… But I guess you could fold comms and sensors into one station, but you still want a dedicated weapons specialist and pilot, plus all the rest.”

“Droids can fill most of those. How hard would it be to install some kind of auto-pilot? Like a built in droid just for flying it and running comms and sensors? Perhaps a second one for the weapons, if the first doesn’t have the bandwidth for it?”

Cindy hummed, thinking about it for a few moments. “I could probably do it. We’d need to order a droid brain and a few systems for that, connect it up, put in a manual failsafe just in case the thing goes nuts… Yeah, it’s doable. As for the rest, sure you can use dedicated droids for routine maintenance stuff, but you want someone to direct them. Likewise, a droid or two could be really helpful, but you want a living engineer who knows what they’re doing.”

“There are ball turrets on the bottom that are supposed to be manned. Can those be converted over to the same system as the turrets on the top and their fire control routed to the bridge?”

“Oh yeah, that’s easy,” she agreed with a nod. “Not having to make room for a living gunner frees up some room for bigger guns.”

“Ah,” I smiled, wagging a finger, “Then we’ve established the minimum number of crew needed: three, not including myself. Figuring out who to put in those positions can come later. Would you mind giving it a look over, once SIO gives it the all clear? Give me some idea how long it would take to do the work to automate as much as possible?”

“Sure, I can do that,” Cindy agreed. Hesitantly, she asked, “Hey listen, boss. Do you mind if I bring in someone else for that? It’s a bit big for me to handle all by myself.”

“Who did you have in mind?” I asked, curious.

“My da. He’s been kind of at loose ends for a few years now. This may be what he needs to pull him out of his funk.”

I considered for a moment, before deciding to get more information first. “He has experience in the field?”

“Taught me everything I know!” she grinned. “Da used to work for KDY.”

That was, Kuat Drive Yards—one of the three largest starship manufacturers in the galaxy and the largest military ship manufacturer. They made the bulk of the Republic’s fleet, including the Venator-class destroyer—the current ship of the line for its size classification in the Republic Navy fleet. I nodded and asked, “What happened?”

Cindy blew out an annoyed breath. “Old goat couldn’t keep his mouth shut and his head down. He was one of their lead engineers. Da had some crazy ideas that his superiors, and the Republic Navy, didn’t like. He finally got shitcanned when he approached some hot shot bitch who had designed whatever new crap they’d just come out with—some big cruiser or destroyer or something. He said the big things were the perfect test bed for trying out a new weapon with way more range and firepower than any over-sized blaster they’re using. He got fired after that.”

“I see,” I murmured. “I don’t see any harm in it.”

The blonde beamed a happy smile. “You won’t regret it, boss!”

Nodding, I told her, “I’ll make sure your bonus for your help in relaying my message to Master Dooku is deposited into your account later today.”

Cindy waved a hand dismissively. “No need to rush or anything.”

“Prompt payment for good work is important,” I shook my head. “Anyway, I need to head in to the palace and let Master Dooku and Jenza know what I found.”

“Sure, sure. Go on then,” Cindy shooed me off, waving me towards the Dagger. “I should be done with this some time tomorrow or the next day. I’ll need access to the interior again then.”

“I’ll send Arthree,” I nodded, making my way over to the fighter and finding the droid already socketed in. “Arthree, I need you to go hang around in the Rusted Silver so Cindy can finish up her work inside, please.”

The drone chirped and affirmative and disconnected, lowering himself from the hole in the fighter and wheeling away towards my other ship. Climbing in, I fired it up and left the hangar, turning for the palace and keeping it at the proper speed limit for local air traffic as I made my way over.

I should just buy a speeder. …A bike, I think.

I made a mental note to do so as I landed on the palace grounds and made my way inside, through security and up to the office, where I found Master Dooku and Jenza sitting at their desk. Looking up, the old Jedi Master asked, “I take it the pirate situation is dealt with, Padawan?”

“For now,” I confirmed. “They may decide to send someone else once this batch stops reporting in.”

“Of course,” Master Dooku nodded. “Hopefully by then we will have enough ships to dissuade them from trying this again.”

“And they won’t dare come in the sort of numbers required to overwhelm our navy, or it would be a declaration of war,” Jenza added. “I’d like to think we’re almost through the worst of it. Once we get enough ships to start sending escorts, we can have our cargo ships run convoys and start working out a system of sending escorts back and forth with our trade partners. That should break this blockade quite nicely.”

Reaching up to stroke his well-trimmed beard, Master Dooku considered for a moment before nodding once to himself, then looking to me. “There is one more thing I’d like you to do, concerning the pirates. I want you to interrogate the officers. Use whatever means you feel is necessary to get answers. I’ll send a message ahead to let them know you’re coming, and have SIO work up a list of questions we want answered.”

“I was going to suggest that if you didn’t. I’ll let you know what I find.”

I entered the interrogation room to find the captain of the so-called pirate ship sat at a table, shackled to the ground at his feet. The man looked a bit worse for wear, as though he hadn’t slept well in the two days we’d given the prisoners time to stew. His hair was disheveled and his face was covered in stubble, and his neon yellow jumpsuit looked rumpled.

The man looked up as I entered for for just a moment, concern radiated off of him—not for himself, but directed at me. He glanced back at the guards, before hissing, “Little girl, you shouldn’t be here.”

Well, that’s interesting. I’m not dealing with some sociopath. Good to know.

I took a seat across from him and smiled. For some reason, the man jerked back in his seat until the chains at his feet clicked as they went tight and his concern was replaced by fear. “While I appreciate your concern captain, I am exactly where I’m supposed to be. Now,” I lifted the tablet I’d brought in and opened up the list I’d been given, “we know you work for a private mercenary force out of the Corporate Sector. I see from my records here that you refused to answer who hired your company. I’m going to need you to tell me.”

The man frowned as he settled back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “We don’t betray our clients.”

I nodded. “Understandable. Commendable, even. But I am afraid that I must insist.” Reaching out, I pushed with the Force, leaning heavily on Mind Trick. “Tell me who hired you.”

“…I didn’t speak with them directly, but it was The Trade Federation. Senator Nute Gunray.”

A smile crossed my lips and I nodded. “Good. On to the next question…”