Diplomatic Relations (pt 5)

{I reserve the right to change/add to any of this. It's not entirely to my liking just yet. I'll let you know if/when that happens.}

Two Days Ago

Dara stared blearily out the kitchen window at the rain, wondering why she was up so early after staying awake so late the night before. The meeting had been less than productive, and she and Redding had yet to convince Josh that the rescue scheme was indeed feasible. She stifled a yawn and set down her mug of stimtea, glancing toward Redding to ask him a question.

“Daramis!”

She turned at the sound of her name, and was caught in Jayem’s crushing embrace. Excitement surged through her as she returned it, a grin splitting her face.

“I knew you weren’t dead!” he crowed gleefully as he released her and turned to slap Redding on the back.

Dara caught sight of Dog standing in the doorway and raised an eyebrow.

“Dude. Dara. It’s good to see you.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a semblance of a smile.

“Dude. Doggiekins. You really shouldn’t get so emotional. You’ll ruin your image.”

Dog only laughed.

“I knew you weren’t dead!” Jayem exclaimed gleefully, turning back from greeting Redding. “I was right, and Dog was wrong!”

“You were both right,” Dara cut in. “You were right to hope we weren’t, and Dog was right to act as if we were. I just have one question.”

“Shoot,’ Dog said.

“Do I want to know how you got the speederbikes?”

“No,” Dog said firmly, just as Jayem said, “It was Dog’s idea.”

Dara grinned. “Then I won’t ask.” She stared at them both, an intense relief flooding through her. She had tried to be confident that they were alive, but there had always been a quiet “what if” nagging at the back of her mind. “I’m really glad you’re back here,” she said with absolute sincerity.

Jayem draped a heavy arm across her shoulders, emphasizing the height difference between them. “All I can say is that it’s about time.”

“What’s the plan now?” Dog asked. “Can we get offworld?”

“We’ve been monitoring communications between the New Republic, the State, and Diplomat Raven, and they’ve finally settled on a date to get Raven out of here. We plan to tag along.”

“Does she know this?”

“No. As far as she knows, we’re dead. Due to the nature of Stawl’s security net over communications, we can watch and listen undetected. The minute we try to make contact, however, they’ll be all over us. We can’t talk to her until just before she leaves tomorrow.”

Dog’s eyes lit up. “You mean, we get to leave tomorrow?” he asked excitedly, and almost cheered when Dara nodded.

“So,” Jayem asked, “do we just sit tight until then?”

“Nope.” Redding smiled smugly. “We get to spring a friend from jail.”

Jayem’s eyes widened. “Is he serious, Dara?”

“Very.”

“Why are we getting involved in internal Stawlian quarrels?” Dog demanded. “Shouldn’t we just lie low until we can get out of here?” His opinion of Stawl and his time on planet was evident in the tone of his voice.

“This is more than an internal dispute, Dog,” Dara replied. “The Fringe is the only voice of reason I’ve heard so far, and it’s their leader that’s in jail. It’s due to his efforts that Redding and I are alive, instead of scattered fragments in the wreckage of the Hall of Roses. He got us out before the explosion.”

Pieces from the last few days began to fit together for Dog—the canceled meetings, Celeste’s tension—and he nodded understanding. “As ordered, then, Major.”

“Oh, come on, Dog. What’s the point of being officially dead if you can’t have a little fun?” Dara insisted.

Dog smiled crookedly. “All right. You’ve convinced me. What’s the plan?”

“This is where it gets tricky. We have to do this tomorrow, before Raven leaves at 1500. And we didn’t get much done last night; we kept hitting stone walls.”

“So, it’s pretty much impossible, then.”

“That’s the spirit. I’ll get Josh and meet you in the computer room. We’ll show you what we’ve got so far.”

Ten minutes later, they were all settled around a console where a schematic of the prison was on the screen.

“This is the Stawlian Capital Detention Center. Their security is good, but, fortunately, Redding is better.” Dara nodded to the slicer, indicating that he should take the floor.

“So far, all I’ve done is some low grade poking around. I don’t want to raise too many flags prematurely. I’ve found Marna’s file, including all the information they have on him, charges, and the cell where he’s being held.” Redding touched a key, and a picture of Marna appeared, alongside several paragraphs of text.

“He’s being charged with willful defiance of State mandate and obstruction of justice.”

Relief flickered across Josh’s face, but it didn’t last.

“Is that good?” Dara asked.

“Well, it’s not as bad as it could be.” Josh sighed. “Depending on how seriously they paint the charges, he could be incarcerated anywhere from three to eight years.”

“It could be worse, from what I’ve heard,” Redding offered.

“True, but I’ve never heard of anyone being released from a sentence of more than a year.”

Dara pointed at the screen. “It looks like he’s up for sentencing tomorrow.”

“Convenient,” Jayem said. “Where will the sentencing happen?”

“Not onsite, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Josh replied. “He’ll be transferred to the court building in the center of town—just a few kilometers north of the Hall of Roses, actually.”

“Can we nab him in transit?” Dog asked.

“Unlikely. Their standard transportation route takes them along the main, heavily populated streets. There would be no place for an ambush, and we don't have enough popular support to risk anything too overt.”

“So that leaves us with plucking him from the detention center. I assume the court building is heavily guarded?”

“Very,” Josh confirmed.

“What’s the security level on the detention center?” Jayem asked.

“Medium. It’s mainly a holding area for those awaiting trial for more serious charges.”

“Obstruction of justice is a serious charge?” Dog’s expression was skeptical.

“It’s enough,” Josh said soberly. “Particularly if they need a reason to hold someone indefinitely.”

Jayem crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Have you worked on strategies for getting in?”

“Yes. We were up quite late last night doing that,” Dara replied. “So far, we don’t have much that will work.”

“How far have you gotten?” Dog sat forward, elbows on his knees and fingers laced together.

“We know that the guards must have written authorization for everything, including going to the refresher. The good news is that Redding,” Dara nodded to the slicer, “can crank out phony orders that will pass any scrutiny.” She quirked a smile. “We had some fun testing that out last night. The bad news is that the computers will eventually recognize the scam and corrupt the files, though they won’t take action beyond that. We’ll have a small window of time, but that’s not even the part we’re worried about.” She nodded to Josh.

“The only personnel who have access to the prisoners are the guards. So if we go in, it has to be in disguise. We have guard uniforms that we’ve been holding against such a need as this, but what we don’t have are the ID cards. These cards are carried by every guard, regardless of rank, and they have a mag strip that must be swiped at every entrance and exit, and especially during a prisoner transfer.”

Dog glanced at Jayem, then reached into a pocket and pulled out three ID cards. “You mean, cards like these?”

Josh’s eyes got very wide. “Exactly like those! Where did you get them?”

Jayem unconsciously touched the healing cut on his face. “We had a run in with those guys you told us to follow, Dara. That’s how we figured the State was behind the Rose incident. We collected their IDs before we left.”

“That explains your cheekbone and the state of your uniform, then,” she said calmly.

“Well, that and the scuffle we had with a patrol a couple nights ago, when Celeste found us.” Dog added.

“And when were you planning on sharing that bit of information?” she asked, amused.

Dog shrugged. “Wasn’t a big deal. A two man patrol stopped us as we were following Celeste. Even though it wasn’t quite curfew, they didn’t believe we were going home and decided they should take us in. We objected.”

“Any way they recognized you?”

“I doubt it. The streets were pretty dark.” Dog glanced at Josh, who was looking anxious. “It happened several klicks from the safe house, and your people stayed in the speeder. There was nothing that could tie the episode to the Fringe.”

“Thank you,” Josh said quietly.

Redding reached over and snatched the cards from Dog’s hand. “If you guys are just going to trade stories, I’m going to see if I can reprogram these. I’m sure they’ve been deactivated by now.”

“How long will that take?” Dara asked.

“Hard to say. Anywhere from ten minutes to two hours, I’d guess. I’ll come get you when I’m through.”

Dara laughed at the subtle hint in Redding’s statement. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Gentlemen, shall we adjourn to another room? We’ll take another look at our options and I’m sure we will find a way in.”

* * *

Thirty-eight minutes later, Redding rejoined them, flipping a single ID card in his fingers. “This is the only one the system would let me reprogram,” he said apologetically, setting the card on the table. “The other two kept giving me error messages.”

“Not good,” Josh said. “A prisoner transfer requires a minimum of two guards. There’s no way this will work if we only have the one card.”

Dara looked at Redding, her expression pensive, trying to solve an internal dilemma.

Redding caught her eye and rescued her by answering the question she hadn’t wanted to ask. “I tried everything. It only took me twelve minutes to program the first. I spent the rest of the time trying to make the others work.” He smirked, and added softly for her ears alone, “Thank you for not openly questioning my abilities.”

She smiled up at him. “I’ve always been taught to trust, but verify.”

He returned her smile and, in a louder voice, added, “Perhaps the owner of this waited a little longer before reporting it lost. Or maybe they were damaged in the fight.” He glanced at Dog, who shrugged.

“The reason doesn’t really matter,” Josh said miserably. “We only have one ID card, and no feasible way of getting another before tomorrow. We have no other options. This is a dead end.”

(to be continued...)