Diplomatic Relations (Pt 3)

{A bit of explanation here for those of you keeping up on Rogue's stories as well: Rogue has crafted his own universe in which to write, while I still use the backdrop of the Star Wars galaxy. This makes for a few differences, such as our unit. In my story, we are an X-wing unit, not entirely unlike Wraith Squadron. In the stories he writes, we're an Army squad. Some things remain true: namely, the characters and events such as Arneb, but these stories take place in two different universes. Sorry if this is confusing.
I also apologize for the delay in the posting of this third part. I can sum up the reason for said delay in one word: Midterms. We now return you to our semi-regularly scheduled story.}

Six Days Ago

“Good news,” Marna said over breakfast the next morning. “Some of our people found your friends last night, roaming the streets on speeder bikes.”

“Speeder bikes?” Redding asked between mouthfuls of pastry. “Where did they get speeder bikes?”

Marna waved a hand vaguely in the air. “We didn’t ask. They’re staying at a safe house on the other side of the city.”

“Excellent!” Dara exclaimed. “Are we going there, or are they coming here?”

“Neither, unfortunately,” Marna said apologetically. “The city’s on High Alert, due to yesterday’s incident. Anyone who ventures outside for any reason will be scrutinized, if not detained.”

“Attention we can do without,” a voice from the doorway added.

Dara turned and looked at the man who had spoken. He was tall for a Stawlian, and Dara figured she could look him straight in the eyes if she stood. He wore military-cut clothes, neatly pressed, and a friendly smile that reached into his green eyes. Dara smiled back.

Marna nodded to the newcomer. “Major Mcejo, may I present Josh Darx, my second-in-command.”

“An honor, Major.”
Dara stood and shook his proffered hand. “Just Dara, please. Rank doesn’t mean much when you’re officially dead.” She liked his easy laugh and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “This is Redding.”

As the two men greeted each other and exchanged pleasantries, Dara looked back to Marna. “How soon will we be able to meet with Dog and Jayem?”

“Hard to say. There’s no way of knowing how long the alert will last. It’s just a show, since the State knows exactly who destroyed the building, so it could be just today, or it could last a week.”

“So we’re stuck.”

“For now, yes.”

She considered for a moment. “How do you think the situation with Diplomat Raven will develop? The New Rep isn’t going to be happy about her being under house arrest.”

“Your New Republic likely doesn’t know yet. The State will have Raven isolated in her quarters and will intercept all comm traffic to her with an apology and an assertion that she’s very busy. They’ll keep that up as long as they can, then begin the slow process of explaining exactly why they are holding the diplomat, what the charges are, and their concerns for the safety of their citizens. Eventually, they’ll have to agree to have Raven transported back to her government as long as they promise to try her. But once she gets off-world, they will cut off all communications with the New Republic.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Dara commented, frowning.

“I once wrote policy,” Marna admitted, “before I recognized the dangerous path the State was traveling.”

Dara nodded. “So this means that once Raven goes off world, our chances of getting off diminish exponentially.”

Marna nodded gravely.

“Is there any way we can monitor the status of the State’s communication with the NR?”

“Perhaps. There is a secure frequency that we’ve pinpointed as coming from Raven’s apartments. If you could decrypt it, I’m certain you could monitor the activity, but none of my men are skilled enough.”

“Redding can do it,” Dara affirmed. “When will it be safe to try?”

“As long as you’re only monitoring, you can start any time. But don’t make contact until we have some sort of plan. They’ll pick up on that fast.’

“Understood.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, Redding and two of Marna’s top computer people were ensconced in a room, talking codes, decrypts, slicing techniques, and sophisticated computer babble to each other as they worked their way into the official communications network. Dara stayed just long enough to see that they were making progress before retreating to a quieter portion of the house to work on a report for Rogue. She curled up on a couch in a deserted sitting room with her datapad and spent twenty minutes detailing her experiences and observations before she felt someone watching her. She glanced up to find Josh leaning casually against the doorjamb, smiling.

She set the datapad down and folded her hands. “Can I help you?” she asked, faintly surprised to find the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.

“I just came to see if you need anything.” He walked across the room and perched on the low table in front of Dara’s couch.

“I’m fine, thank you.” She studied him, amused.

Josh reached for the datapad, but Dara twitched it out of reach.

“It’s my report,” she said by way of apology. “For my commander’s eyes only.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Am I in it?”

She glanced down at the report. “Perhaps.”

“Then why can’t I see it?” His laugh forestalled her reply. “I’m only teasing.”

She smiled and shut off her datapad. “Is there anything I should be putting in my report?” A touch of mischief glinted in her eye.

“Well, I’m twenty-four, single, and I like dinner by candlelight.”

“I’m sure my commander would be dying to know that,” she laughed.

“Maybe you could write another report, for your eyes only.”

Dara opened her mouth to reply, then stopped. She tilted her head slightly. “You’re not very subtle, are you?”

“Do I need to be?”

She settled further back into the cushions. “I don’t suppose Todd would care much one way or the other.”

“Todd is…?”

She grinned. “Your competition.”

“Sensitive, thoughtful, handsome, intelligent, and witty?”

“Of course.”

Josh raised his hands, palm out. “Todd needn’t worry, then. There’s no way I could compete with that.”

Dara couldn’t stop a laugh from slipping out, but she recovered swiftly. “I accept your surrender,” she said graciously, then changed the subject. “Why did you get involved with the Fringe?”

Josh’s open, friendly expression hardened. “The State murdered one of my friends. He was a teacher, and one of his students maliciously reported that he had been presenting anti-State views in the classroom.” His jaw clenched. “They didn’t even give him a trial.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dara said quietly, recognizing the hollowness of mere words.

“I was all for starting a revolution and wiping out every State official, but then I met Marna. He calmed me down and talked some sense into my muddled head. Very likely saved my life as a result. His vision of what Stawl can be is very infectious, and I’ve been helping construct a little more of that vision every day.”

Dara nodded understanding. His words reinforced the image of Marna she had been acquiring. He was a good, steady leader, capable of inspiring hope and quelling destructive impulses. He didn’t seem to be one to make rash decisions; even his measured rate of speech conveyed the impression that every word had been carefully selected and each sentence considered before uttered.

“What about you,” Josh asked, interrupting her mental character assessment. His face had lost the tightness prompted by her question. “Why are you in Starfighter Command?”

“I suppose it’s all Rogue’s fault.” She quirked a smile.

“Rogue?”

“My commander. I was a freelance pilot, and saw Imperial atrocities on the worlds I visited. It took some time, but eventually I realized that I couldn’t stand by and let it happen anymore. I started by doing some smuggling work for the New Republic—gun running, getting supplies to rebel cells on Imperial-held worlds, that sort of thing. Then that wasn’t even enough, so I signed on with the military. I’ve always loved the X-wing, so it was natural for me to gravitate to Starfighter Command.”

“How is this Rogue’s fault?”

“I served my tour of duty in Starfighter Command under good, capable commanders. Six months before my time was up, I transferred to Commander Rogue’s squadron. We just... clicked. I could anticipate his orders before he issued them. He recognized my strengths and placed me in roles to maximize them. We work together very well and think on the same wavelength. We also have a knack of pulling each other out of sticky situations. And then there was Arneb IV.”

She paused, but Josh didn’t press. He had seen that look she had in her eyes before, in the eyes of other soldiers as they recalled battles and images of war flickered through their minds.

“Arneb was the worst: botched intel, equipment failure, short supplies, poor communication. We got hit hard, and not everyone walked away. Rogue, Jayem, Redding and I were all that was left from our squad. We formed a very tight friendship.

“After that, I couldn’t leave. I signed on for another tour of duty with Commander Rogue; I’ve still got eight months left on my contract, and I’ll probably sign on again.”

Josh smiled. “Then you, too, know something of loyalty.”

Dara took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the tension of the memories fade away, just as Josh had done. “Yes.”

“How does Todd feel about your current career?”

She grinned. “Sometimes I think that I’m safer in my cockpit than Todd is in his job. We’ve come to an agreement that it’s futile to worry. We take one day at a time and enjoy what we have.”

“A wise philosophy. Will he be notified of your death here?”

“I’m hoping to spring from the grave before he hears anything,” she said, almost cheerfully. “To that end, I’m going to go check on Redding’s progress.” She stood. “Care to join me?”

He rose and followed her out of the room.

* * *

Though the inactivity chafed, Dara felt that the day was productive. Redding and his new friends managed to patch into the communications between the New Rep and Diplomat Raven. That the conversations they heard were disappointing did not negate their progress. Dara and Josh spent most of the day together, trading stories and ideals. Marna joined them for a time, and they discussed the structure, the goals, and the methods of the Fringe. Dara appreciated the subtlety of Marna’s strategies, finding them on par with the Intel policies she knew of.

After the evening meal, Dara, Josh, Redding, and Marna gathered in a room to discuss possible exit strategies. It was well into the night before they retired to their respective rooms.

* * *

Five Days Ago

“The New Republic was very persistent,” Redding said. “They’ve already gotten the State to admit that they’re holding Raven. The State is desperately trying to maintain control of the talks by stalling as much as they can.”

Dara peered over the top of the blankets, blinking away the morning haze. It took her a moment to realize that the voice interrupting her sleep was neither a dream nor an alarm, but rather a human male standing in her doorway, carrying on a one-sided conversation as if nothing were amiss.

“Redding,” she said darkly, her tone cutting off his monologue. “I don’t recall inviting you in.”

“Oh.” Redding glanced around, as if noticing for the first time where he was. He grinned sheepishly. “I should have knocked, right?”

Dara mumbled something about slicers as Redding backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Dara emerged from her quarters a half hour later, showered and dressed in borrowed civilian clothes, looking decidedly more awake. She smacked Redding lightly upside the head as she passed where he sat on her way to the table where breakfast was laid out. He did not retaliate, only laughed.

Josh was there, scooping some sort of hot, mealy substance into a bowl. Dara declined that dish, instead helping herself to a variety of fruit and adding some toasted bread to her plate.

“Any news?” she asked as she pulled out a chair and sat next to Redding. Josh chose a seat directly across.

“Were you listening to anything I told you earlier?” Redding ducked away as he spoke, in case she decided another slap was in order.

“Yes,” she said, her voice only mock-reproachful now. “How long do we think negotiations will last?”

“Marna says five days on the outside, but no less than three. The State is frantically trying to regain the upper hand, so they’re dithering as much as they can and stalling every chance they get,” Josh said.

“Redding told me something of the sort, yes,” Dara replied. “Where is Marna?”

“He left this morning to see about bringing your friends here.”

Dara’s face lit up even as Redding groaned.

“And here I was enjoying the peace and quiet,” he complained.

It only took a glance to show Dara that he was teasing. His eyes were as excited as hers.

The next several hours were filled with agonizing waiting. Daramis paced the floors, glancing at her chrono every few minutes. Now and then, she would force herself to sit and be still, but that never lasted long. She wandered the house, going in and out of the room where Redding monitored the incredibly and increasingly dull exchange between the State official and the New Republic representative.

Shortly before noon someone pounded on the front door. Dara was two steps behind Josh and one step ahead of everyone else when he cautiously cracked the door open, then yanked it wide. The girl standing there looked barely out of her teens and scared out of her senses. Josh grasped her right arm and quickly drew her inside, slamming the bolt home when the door shut.

“Stella, what’s wrong?”

Her face was ashen, and she gripped Josh’s forearm so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Marna,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “They arrested Marna.”

A ripple of shock passed through the handful of onlookers, all craning their necks to see better.

“Tell us,” Josh prompted gently.

Stella finally focused on his face, and her voice grew a little steadier. “He met a patrol on the way across town, and they didn’t like the reason he gave for being out the day after a High Alert, so… they arrested him.”

Josh’s forehead knit in concentration as frightened murmuring broke out in the room. Redding and Dara exchanged worried glances. After a moment, Josh raised a hand and everyone quieted instantly.

“We’re leaving,” he said decisively. “Marna’s current ID is linked to this house, and we have to assume they’re coming. We clean it out and scatter according to plan. Let’s move!” He clapped his hands twice and everyone sprang into action with such certainty that Dara knew it wasn’t the first time they’d had to do this.

Josh, with Stella still clinging to his hand, turned to Dara and Redding. “You’ll come with me to a safe house on the outskirts of town. Hiding you will be a little more difficult because you don’t have proper ID papers and because of how well-known you are.”

“You don’t have any forgers in your group?” Dara asked, refusing to believe that they didn’t, not a group of the extent and with the resources of the Fringe.

Josh snorted. “Of course we do. But forging takes time, time we don’t have right now. We’ll take a covered speeder and pray we don’t get stopped by a patrol.”

Dara nodded and glanced toward the bustle of activity coming from the rest of the house. “How can we help?”

“Redding, I’m sure they would appreciate another hand at packing up the computers and hiding our tracks.”

Redding nearly saluted, stopped and lowered his hand somewhat awkwardly, merely nodding instead as he turned.

“Dara, I’d be grateful if you help me coordinate the packing of the speeders. There are three in the garage, and the loads need to be divided equally.

“Certainly.”

Josh murmured something in Stella’s ear. She nodded and headed into the kitchen. Josh turned back to Dara.

“This way,” he said, and she followed him down the hall.

* * *

(to be continued...)