Diplomatic Relations (Pt 10)

{The post you've all been waiting for...}

“All right,” Dara said once the pilots had changed from their Stawlian uniforms to their New Republic dress uniforms. “Are we ready to move? Redding, did you call Raven?”

“I did.” Redding flipped through a stack of data disks and pulled out the ones he needed. “There’s a problem.”

“No,” Dog said flatly.

Dara eyed him. “No, there is no problem?”

“No,” Dog repeated, “there can’t be a problem. We’re too close to getting off this ridiculously paranoid planet for there to be any problems.”

“Hush,” Dara ordered. “Redding, what is the problem?”

“She’s not answering. I keep getting directed to a messaging service.”

Dara considered. “That’s a problem.”

“Yes.”

“Not a big problem, but a problem.”

“Yes.”

“Do we know where she’s going to be?”

“We know that the diplomatic vessel is going to be at the spaceport. We know where she is being held. Technically, we could drive the route between the spaceport and where she is and look for her.”

“Not a great plan.”

“No.”

“But it is a plan.”

“We should be able to find her, yes.”

“Worst case scenario, we meet her at the spaceport.” Dara’s voice clearly indicated that she was ready to leave, with or without a plan.

“Look,” Dog interrupted. “Can we go already?”

Dara laughed and waved them all towards the door. “All right. We’ll start with her lodgings. Let’s go.”

~

Dog was already in the speeder, Redding and Jayem were on their way to join him. Dara stopped in the computer room where Josh and Marna were finishing dismantling the last computer.

“Two safe houses ruined in a week. I guess I should apologize,” Dara said.

Marna shook his head and came over to where she stood. “No,” he insisted, clasping her hand warmly. “I can’t thank you and your pilots enough for what you’ve done. Not just for me, but for all of the Fringe. You’ve given them confidence that they desperately needed.”

“I was just returning the favor,” she countered. “You and your organization saved our lives and Diplomat Raven’s reputation. Getting you out was the least we could do.”

“We’ll never forget you and your team, Dara,” Josh said.

“I hope you do,” Dara smiled. “I hope the Fringe does so many amazing things that you won’t be able to remember us at all. I’ll be waiting to hear of a regime shift on Stawl.”

“In time,” Marna said quietly. “Thank you again.” He and Josh walked her to the door.

“We can give you twenty minutes,” Dara said. “Maybe a little more than that, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“We can work with twenty minutes,” Josh said. “We’ll be out of here in five.”

“Excellent.” Dara clasped his hand, then Marna’s. “Good luck.”

“Goodbye, Dara,” Marna said. “Be careful.”

“And you, also,” she replied. She offered him a crisp, military salute, then left the room.

She nearly walked right into Zack, who had been waiting just outside the room. She smiled and stepped back. “It was great working with you, Zack. You’ve got good instincts. Make Josh let you use them.”

Zack nodded, abruptly wrapped her in a bone-crushing embrace, then, just as suddenly, released her. He stammered something that sounded like “thank you, then hurried away, beet red.

Dara, looking rather dazed, turned to Redding, who was leaning against a wall, watching with an amused expression. “What was that about?”

“He’s only nineteen, Dara. Still just a kid. You rescued his hero, so that makes you a hero, too.” Redding grinned.

Dara flushed a dull, embarrassed crimson. “But I don’t like heroes,” she commented as she brushed past him on her way to the speeder.

Redding chuckled and followed.

“Come on, Dara,” Jayem complained when they ran into the garage and jumped into the speeder. “We’ve been waiting for hours!”

Dara laughed at him. “Calm down. Everyone ready?” Upon receiving affirmative responses, she nodded to Dog. “Go.”

~

Dara’s instinct to start at Raven’s lodgings proved to be correct. They arrived to see a small crowd gathered, consisting of Raven, a handful of grim New Republic soldiers, some pompous State officials and their guards, and at least two dozen curious bystanders. Since this was apparently a State function, the laws against citizens congregating in groups larger than ten obviously did not apply. One particularly pretentious bureaucrat was standing at a podium, lecturing about the need for integrity in galactic diplomacy. Raven’s face was tight with stress and some of her authoritative bearing was lacking. When Dog pulled the speeder closer, the crowd turned to look.

Dog had taken down the speeder’s cover, so that everyone assembled could plainly see the occupants. Whispering and pointing began as people started to recognize them. Dara stood up as the bureaucrat paused uncertainly in his speech.

“People of Stawl,” Dara called loudly as her pilots lounged beside her, hands on blasters. “I am Major Daramis Mcejo. You requested representatives of the New Republic Starfighter Command. We came. And then your government tried to kill us.” There was a slight rumble of shock and displeasure from the crowd, and Dara continued, raising her voice. “They tried to kill us, and they killed hundreds of your own people in the attempt. Not only that, but they dared to blame it on our own diplomat. The State lied to us, the State falsely accused an agent of the New Republic, and the State is lying to you.”

The people began to shift restlessly, looking at each other, then at Dara, at the bureaucrat, and back at Dara. The guards glanced around uneasily, unsure of what to do. The bureaucrat was white and trembling with fury, gripping the sides of his podium fiercely.

“Impostors!” he shouted as he stabbed an accusing finger toward the pilots. “The New Republic pilots are dead! These are frauds, trying to shake your faith in your government!”

Standing slightly behind him, backed by six New Republic soldiers, Raven gaped in a rather undiplomatic manner, the beginnings of hope easing the strain around her eyes.

“Is he talking about us?” Redding asked lazily.

“I believe he is,” Jayem yawned.

“Arrest them!” the official yelled, and his guards snapped to attention. They began moving purposefully towards the pilots.

“Us again?”

“Us again,” Dara confirmed, keeping a close eye on the guards. She waited until they were less than ten meters away, then, “Dog, go!” They roared away, leaving behind spluttering Stawlian officials faced with the daunting task of controlling an irate crowd.

The guards gaped dumbfounded, as if disbelieving that anyone would actually run from them, and then doubled back to their speeders to give chase, leaving the pilots with a nice head start.

“You know where you’re going, right?” Dara asked Dog conversationally as she glanced over her shoulder.

Dog shrugged and increased speed. “More or less. But we need to give Marna time to get away, right?”

“Right.”

“Then let’s do some sightseeing.”

“Funny,” Jayem said sarcastically.

“No, I’m serious,” Dog grinned. “We need to lead the guards on a wild-goose chase so they’re distracted.”

“Just don’t get us caught,” warned Dara as she settled back to enjoy the ride.

Dog was an artist at the controls of any vehicle, and the Stawlian military speeder was no exception. His handling of the machine was impeccable, and the guards behind them were hard pressed to keep up. Dog had to slow down once or twice in order not to lose them. They did get a full tour of the capitol, though none of them knew what they were looking at.

“I am thoroughly unimpressed,” Jayem yawned. “Are we done yet?”

“Almost,” Dog called back. “The spaceport’s a few blocks away.”

“They’re gaining now,” Redding warned, hanging on to the side of the speeder as Dog made a hard right.

“Forget about it,” Dog yelled over the noise of the engine. “Two more turns and we jump.”

“We what?” Jayem demanded, sitting up straight.

“I can’t slow down, can I?” retorted Dog. “I’ll give the speeder a collision course and we get out of here.”

“We’re doing it, Jayem,” Dara commanded. “No more questions.”

Jayem scowled, but braced himself.

“Ready….” Dog threw the speeder into the first turn.

“Still behind us,” Redding reported.

Dog pulled the speeder hard to the left. “Now!” he shouted.

Redding jumped, hit the ground, and rolled, followed immediately by Jayem and Dog. Then Dara jumped and was struck with the sinking realization that her landing would be off. She unsuccessfully tried to correct in midair, but she hit the ground hard and her ankle folded inward. Rolling out of the street and toward a wall, she tried to stand. Her leg buckled, protesting violently at the pressure on her ankle. Pain pounded through the joint and she gritted her teeth.

“Blast!” she ground out, bracing herself against the wall.

Instantly, Jayem was at her side, taking her weight and pulling her to cover just as the guards sped past, not yet realizing their error. Redding and Dog scanned the area with their blasters. Half-carrying, half-supporting Dara, Jayem went to the door and keyed it open. Relief swept over the group at the sight of their X-wings, undamaged and lined up in a precise row. Dara also noticed two guards lying in a corner of the hangar, still unconscious, still bound and gagged.

She looked up at Jayem. “Nobody noticed?”

He grinned. “Apparently not.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said optimistically, thinking that this could be the first true moment of good fortune during the entire Force-forsaken mission. “All right, people, let’s move!”

Dara was amazed and pleased when they discovered that all of their personal belongings were neatly stacked in a corner, including their flight suits. That meant they wouldn’t have to rendezvous with the diplomatic vessel before breaking atmosphere. The four pilots suited up in record time, despite Dara’s trouble with her ankle.

Dog had a huge grin on his face as he pulled his helmet on, so thrilled was he to be leaving Stawl. Redding and Jayem were unsuccessful at hiding their smiles, as well. Dara couldn’t deny a profound sense of relief, tempered by the pain in her joint. Redding helped Dara into her X-wing before climbing up into his own ship.

Dara switched on her comm. “Call out, boys.”

“Four green, Lead,” Jayem replied promptly.

“All good, Lead,” Dog said, practically on top of Jayem’s transmission. “Can we go already?”

“Three in the green, number two engine at eighty percent,” Redding reported.

“Are you worried about that, Four?” Dara asked.

“Not a bit, Lead. Let’s go!”

A new voice broke into their frequency. “Unauthorized pilots, this is Control. You are in a restricted zone. Power down your engines immediately.”

Dara laughed outright. It was not a pleasant laugh. “This is Major Daramis Mcejo of New Republic Starfighter Command,” she said grimly. “I suggest you raise the hangar doors before we blow them off.” She addressed her squad: “S-foils in attack position.”

Four pairs of wings split horizontally and slowly lifted apart, giving the fighters the shape for which they were named. Then the crafts gently elevated, stopping to hover about a meter from the ground.

“Unauthorized pilots,” the voice sounded a little worried now, “power down immediately!”

“Sorry, we’re done with diplomacy. On my mark, gentlemen. Three, two—“

“Wait!” The voice was now frantic. “We are raising the hangar doors now.”

“You have fifteen seconds, Control. We’re leaving either way.”

Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened. Then a strong male voice came over the comm. “Unauthorized pilots, this is Captain Zarn of the State Security Division. You are ordered by the State to stand down.”

“Mark,” was Dara’s quiet reply.

Sixteen lasers in quad-linked bursts fired simultaneously, reducing the hangar doors to so much melted slag. Alarms sounded and the side doors burst open to admit two squads of State soldiers.

“Shields up,” Dara ordered, setting an example. “Let’s go home, boys.”

“Right behind you, Major,” Redding said.

One after another, the four X-wings slipped out of the gaping hole in the hangar doors. Stawlian soldiers opened fire on the starfighters, the lasers from their blasters splashing ineffectually against the shields. The X-wings gracefully arced up into the sky and headed for the diplomatic ship that was also lifting from the ground.

When they reached comm range, Dara hailed the ship. “Diplomatic vessel, this is Major Daramis Mcejo. Do you need an escort?”

There was a brief pause, then: “Major Mcejo, this is Captain Leo of Diplomatic vessel Horizons. It is good to hear your voice! Is that the rest of your team with you?”

“As improbable as it may seem, we are all present and accounted for.”

“Best news we’ve had all week,” Captain Leo said with absolute sincerity. “We accept your offer of an escort. Transmitting our course to you now.”

“Escort formation,” Dara directed her pilots, and the X-wings slid neatly into position.

“Hopefully we won’t need an escort,” the captain continued, “but we did leave a lot of really upset Stawlians back there.”

“Perhaps,” Dara replied with a smile. “But we left quite a few happy ones, as well.”

“Diplomat Raven sends her congratulations on your survival. And her regrets that such an unorthodox departure was necessary.”

“That’s quite all right. It was the most action my team has seen all week, and they needed the outlet.”

“No kidding, Major Mother,” Dog cut in.

Normally, Dara would have called for less chatter, but this time she let her pilots fall into easy, lighthearted banter over the comm. She was just glad to be going home.

A new voice filled her cockpit, that of the Horizon’s navigator. “Lightspeed in sixty seconds. Fifty…forty…thirty….”

Dara listened absently to the countdown and sent her starfighter hurtling into the blue and white vortex of hyperspace on the navigator’s mark. They would be making the trip in a series of jumps. She estimated she had a little over two hours before their first reversion—plenty of time for a light nap. After checking in with her R2 unit and setting an alarm to wake her in an hour and a half, Dara settled back into the seat, making herself as comfortable as possible, and drifted into a light doze, trying still to ignore the steady throb of pain from her ankle.

~

Today

Dara had never found words adequate enough to describe how she felt upon returning from a mission with everyone still alive. Relieved wasn’t quite intense enough, neither was satisfied, or even pleased. A warm, contented feeling washed over her and she felt the knot of tension that had settled in her neck and shoulders loosen as Commenor, the planet their squadron currently called home, expanded to take over her viewport. After twelve hours of hyperspace jumps, they were finally back.

“Welcome home, Major Mcejo,” Captain Leo said and was met with cheers from her squad. Dara just leaned back in her chair and grinned like an idiot.

“You got nothing to say, Major Mother?” Dog asked.

“Too happy for words,” she replied.

“That would be a first,” Redding joked.

“Hush,” she said without reproach. “Tighten up your positions. We are an escort.”

The four pilots brought their X-wings into precise formation. None of them wanted anyone who might be watching to think their flying had gotten sloppy while they were on Stawl. Captain Leo gave them landing coordinates, and the cruiser angled toward the west side of the base. The X-wings peeled off and headed to a hangar in the south quadrant. The hangar was largely empty, but the moment they settled their ships down and cut the engines, the hangar flooded with an excited, beaming, swarm of men and women in uniform.

Redding, Jayem, and Dog popped their hatches and scrambled out of their fighters. Instead of jumping down from her X-wing, Dara waited for the mechanics to bring over a ladder. She also accepted the hands extended to help her down. The guys were exchanging handshakes and backslaps and accepting congratulations. A major from their partner squadron was waiting for Dara. He saluted, not even trying to hide his smile.

“Major Mcejo, it is a pleasure to see you and your team again.”

“Major Ondel, I cannot tell you how much the feeling is mutual.” She returned the salute and the smile, then looked around. The hangar was buzzing with people, but she only saw about half of Valor Squadron and she didn’t see her commander at all. “Where’s Rogue?”

“We haven’t told him.” Major Ondel’s smile spread into a mischievous grin. “All he knows is that Diplomat Raven was to return today.”

“So…Rogue doesn’t know we’re alive?” She leaned against a crate to keep weight off her injured ankle.

“No. He’s been depressed and grouchy ever since you died. We figured he wouldn’t believe us if we told him.”

“Well,” Dara laughed, “it’s nice to know we were missed. I suppose we should go show our faces so that he can sleep tonight.” She motioned her team to join her. “Let’s report in.”

~

“And then we came here, sir.” Dara leaned back in her chair and spread her hands. “And here we are.”

They had gathered a crowd. Rogue’s office was filled with Valor Squadron pilots and the hallway contained many members of other squadrons who couldn’t resist their curiosity. Dara had done most of the reporting, but Dog, Jayem, and Redding had interjected as they wanted. It was a thorough, if a bit casual, report.

There was a smattering of applause and shouts of congratulations as the other pilots began to disperse. When the room was clear, Dog stood and saluted.

“Permission to go eat, sir?”

Rogue smiled and nodded. “By all means. Dismissed.”

Jayem and Redding jumped up, gave salutes of their own, and followed Dog out of the office, leaving Rogue and Dara alone.

“I think I might join them, sir. All we’ve had is field rations in our X-wings since breakfast on Stawl. And I’m pretty sure that was yesterday.” Dara levered herself out of her chair and balanced precariously on one foot.

“You’re going to get that taken care of, yes?”

Dara made a face. “Yes, sir,” she said with a reluctance that stemmed from her dislike of visiting the medbay.

“And then get some sleep.”

She brightened at that. “As ordered.” She limped carefully to the door, turned, and saluted. “It’s good to be back, sir.”

“It’s good to have you back, Dara. All of you.”

“Thank you. And, sir?”

“Yes?”

“If I ever get volunteered to lead a diplomatic mission again, I’m resigning.”

He laughed. “Understood. I’ve already discussed it with Command.”

She grinned and opened the door.

“Oh, by the way,” he called, arresting her motion and drawing her gaze back. “You’ll get me your report? I’d like to go over it before Diplomatic Corps gets it.” He was surprised when she blushed.

“I’ll have it on your desk by tomorrow evening.”

Rogue looked confused. “Wasn’t there a report you were updating throughout this whole fiasco?”

Dara grinned sheepishly. “Yes,” she admitted, “there was. But… I left it on Stawl.”

~Fin~

Diplomatic Relations (Pt 9) (revised)

Redding was absolutely focused on his screen, watching the feed from the security cameras. Jayem leaned in over his shoulder.

“Have they arrived yet?”

Redding shook his head. “Any minute now, I think.”

“How long ‘til they get back?’

“Thirty minutes, if everything goes according to plan.”

“Good. I think I’ll get some air.” Jayem straightened and left the room.

Redding frowned, but the monitors quickly reclaimed his attention. That is, until he heard the front door open and slam, then the roar of a speederbike. Redding’s head snapped up, and he was out of his seat so fast the chair tipped over. He sprinted to the window just in time to see Jayem disappear down the street. Redding slammed his fist against the wall and called his squadmate eight kinds of idiot. But there was nothing he could do. Fighting back his frustration, he returned to his computers and watched Zack get cleared through the front gate.

~

Zack handed the guard on duty his ID card. Watching out of the tinted windows, Dara was impressed by how comfortable and natural he looked. He wasn’t overly nonchalant, and neither was he jumpy and nervous. He seemed to be having a casual conversation with the guard and was careful to keep his face turned away when two other guards brought Marna in and led him to the speeder.

Dog leaned over and opened the door of the speeder. Dara also turned her head away so that Marna couldn’t react immediately. He would recognize her, he might not recognize Dog. She watched in the reflection of the window as Marna climbed in, looking haggard and a little dejected. Then her gut clenched as the two guards climbed in after him and sat opposite. That was not in the plan.

Dog glanced casually at Dara, then returned to staring out the window. Dara knew that any drastic action now would be noticed. They would have to wait until they cleared outer security. Marna chose that moment to raise his head and look around the speeder. His eyes widened when he saw Dara. Fortunately, he had enough presence of mind not to react. He looked from her to Dog, whom he did not recognize immediately, and confusion creased his forehead. Dara surreptitiously lowered one eyelid to reassure him, then rubbed her eye a second later, in case one of the guards had seen.

Zack did not say a word when he got back in the speeder. That told Dara that he had seen the guards and knew not to celebrate just yet. Dog and Dara exchanged a meaningful glance as Zack drove the speeder out of the transfer area. Marna was trying to hide his confusion, and the other two guards just looked bored.

Dara felt a drop of sweat trickle down the back of her neck. The two guards weren’t supposed to be here. It wouldn’t take much for them to guess that something was not right and raise the alarm. Only her previous undercover experience kept her face calm and unworried, and she was sure the same went for Dog. She kept her breathing even and managed to match the bored expressions on the guards’ faces.

Then the guard on Marna’s left glanced at Dara, then seemed to really see her. A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” he said.
“How long—”

With the precision of two squadmates that had worked together for years, Dara and Dog drew their blasters and fired simultaneously. The wave of blue from the stun beams washed over the two guards and they slumped in their seats. Marna’s eyes widened with shock.

Zack’s head swiveled around and he gaped.

“Turn around, Zack,” Dara ordered. “We still have to get out of here. Stick to the plan.”

“Zack’s here?” Marna asked incredulously. He still hadn’t absorbed the idea of being rescued.

“Yes, sir,” Zack said. “And we’re on our way to meet Josh.”

Three minutes later, they had cleared outer security. No one so much as glanced twice at Zack’s ID badge or into the speeder. The guards all wore the same bland expression that spoke of utter boredom. But it was after they drove through the gates that the next difficult part began: they had to make a military speeder disappear before the State realized that Marna hadn’t arrived for his court date.

“Zack, did you disable the speeder’s homing beacon yet?” Dara demanded as she snapped binders on her unconscious guard.

“Working on it,” Zack called, his voice now tight with frustration.

“I’ll help him,” Dog said, finishing with his guard and clambering into the front seat.

“Dara—“ Marna began.

She smiled reassuringly at him. “You saved us, we’re saving you. Turnabout’s fair play.”

“Got it,” Dog called triumphantly.

“Excellent,” Dara said. “Are we being followed?’

“Negative.”

“Daramis,” Marna tried again.

“Relax,” she said calmly. “We’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“How?” was all he could say.

“Actually,” she admitted, “it wasn’t that hard. The State is all talk and no security systems. Redding found a way to feed false orders to the computers, we got our hands on an ID card, and your people had uniforms. Then we bribed a speeder from some mechanics, and here we are.”

Marna shook his head in disbelief. “You embarrass us. We did not know this kind of thing could be done.”

“And we didn’t know the State planned to blow us to smithereens,” she replied cheerfully. “Shall we call it even?”

“We’re clear,” Dog reported. “Major?”

Dara looked down at the guards lying on the floor of the speeder. They were a problem. Sooner or later they would wake up; they couldn’t be killed; it was far too risky for them to be taken prisoner. She shrugged, then said, “Let’s get to the rendezvous. No need to let Josh worry any more than he would anyway.”

~

As Zack had predicted, the Old Square was deserted. The few shops were boarded up and no one was there. Josh and Stella had parked the speeder in a small alcove between two stores, neatly out of the way. They were waiting when Zack pulled up next to them. Dog opened the door and got out first, scanning the area before motioning for Marna to join him.

Astonishment flashed across Josh’s face, quickly smothered with excitement and relief, and Dara knew that he had still had lingering doubts about their chances of success. She allowed herself a small smile as she jumped out of the speeder. Josh clapped Marna on the shoulder while shaking his hand. No words were exchanged, but there were volumes in that simple gesture.

“Get Marna in the speeder,” Dog said, interrupting the reunion. “We don’t want him out in the open more than necessary.”

Josh immediately guided Marna into the speeder. Zack jumped out to stand next to Dara and Dog.

“Do we ditch the speeder?” he wanted to know. “Or do we take it back?”

“Neither,” Dog answered. “It’s now our getaway vehicle.”

“What?” Zack’s confusion was plain.

“You need a distraction to get Marna out of town, right?”

Zack nodded, still puzzled.

“Well, we’re going to make one.” Dog sauntered towards the waiting speeder, whistling.

“Dog, wait,” Dara said. She caught up with him and held a whispered conference. Dog listened, nodded, and then an eager, enthusiastic gleam appeared in his eyes. Zack looked quizzically at Dara, who merely shrugged and got in the speeder after Dog. Zack followed.

“Get in the front seat,” Dara told the young Fringe driver. “We don’t want to risk the guards seeing you.” She was relieved when he obeyed without a word of protest.

The two guards were lying on the floor of the speeder still, face down, binders keeping their hands behind their backs. One of the them groaned and shifted. Dog crouched next to him, holding the guard’s blaster loosely in his hands. The guard blinked slowly and tried to lift his head. Dog shoved his head back down, forcing him to strain to see Dog out of the corner of his eye. His face was filled with terror and his breath quickened.

He was a guard, Dara reminded herself, not a soldier. He would have neither experience nor training for this sort of situation. That made Dog’s part a lot easier, and she hoped he wouldn’t overdo it. She settled into a seat, just within the guard’s line of sight, and scowled.

The guard grunted again, as if trying to speak.

“Shut up,” Dog growled. “She already wants to kill you,” he jerked his head at Dara, “don’t make it worse.”

The terrified guard followed the gesture, saw Dara’s expression, and paled. He pressed his lips tightly together in a silent attempt to let Dog know he wouldn’t say a word.

Zack stared over his shoulder at Dog in shock. “You can’t—”

Dara made a sharp, chopping motion with her hand and Zack turned back around, swallowing the rest of his protest. Dog shot him a withering glare, then looked back at the guard.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said, “my boss isn’t happy. You got in our way. You weren’t supposed to be there. Two guards for prisoner transfer, not four. And yet, you and your friend jump on in. Now she’s thinking, you did it on purpose, trying to stop us, wanting to be heroes.” He glanced nervously over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “She doesn’t like heroes.”

All blood had drained from the guard’s face, leaving him ashen and sweating. He shook his head, frantically trying to deny what Dog said. Dara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Dog was really laying it on thick.

“I think I can convince her not to kill you. At least, I’ll try,” he amended in a whisper. “But I’ll be risking my own neck.”

Gratitude filled the poor guard’s face as he dared to hope. Dog suppressed a scornful look and moved over next to Dara. The speeder was large enough that he actually took two steps, far enough that a hushed conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the guards.

“How am I doing?” Dog asked quietly.

Dara raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “I don’t like heroes?” she asked, equally softly.

Dog gestured vaguely. “I’m improvising.”

“I noticed,” she replied dryly. “Then maybe I should improvise too,” she threw back, making her voice sound angry. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guard cringe as he heard the tone, but not the words.

“I always knew there was a thespian in you,” Dog replied, straight-faced.

Dara flicked her hand toward him in an exasperated gesture. “Fine,” she said, raising her voice, “Do what you will, then.”

Dog flashed her a quick smile and whispered back, “I always do.”

He returned to where the guard lay, noting the gratitude on his face.

“Thank you!” the guard said with intense feeling.

“Quiet,” Dog snapped. “Or she’ll change her mind.”

The guard shut his mouth abruptly.

“But there’s still a problem,” Dog continued. “We can’t take you with us. There’s a hundred of us heading west tomorrow morning and we can’t be bothered with you two. But we can’t just let you go free, either.” He frowned in concentration, then appeared to make up his mind. “So here’s what’s going to happen. We’ll dump you here, out of the way, unhurt,” he said with reluctance, and the guard sighed with relief. “You promise not to make a fuss and get yourselves into trouble, and we won’t have to track you down again.” He brought his face very close to the guard’s. “Understand?” he asked flatly.

The guard nodded quickly, wide-eyed.

“All right, then.” Dog stood and looked at Dara. “Let’s get them out of here.”

Dara shook her head with mock-irritation, but joined him in dragging the second to the door. She jumped out, checked for witnesses, then waved Dog out. They hauled the still-unconscious guard out first, then Dog pulled the other guard to his feet and helped him out of the speeder.

There was a narrow, shadowed alley between two of the buildings, and some convenient crates lay about a dozen paces in. Dara clamped her hand around the standing guard’s shoulder and firmly guided him into the alley. Dog half-carried, half-dragged the second guard and dumped him behind the boxes, then glanced meaningfully at Dara’s prisoner, resting his hand on his blaster. Dara let go, and the guard hurried over and sat next to his friend on the ground.

“Remember: no heroics,” Dog said firmly. He glanced at the other guard, who was just beginning to stir. “Make sure he knows our agreement,” he added warningly.
The first guard hastily nodded. His color was returning, and he didn’t look half as frightened as he had earlier. Dara was certain he was beginning to entertain thoughts of being a hero. She hid a smirk and nudged Dog. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Right behind you.”

They left their captives without a backward glance. Dara looked over at the second speeder where Josh was eyeing them with a nervous expression. She gave him a reassuring smile and a thumbs up. He did not look reassured. Dara shrugged.

“What happens if they’re discovered?” Zack worried when the pilots were back in the speeder. “Or if they get away?”

Dog shrugged. “They think there’s a hundred people—a legion of soldiers, when those two are finished telling the story—vacating the capitol tomorrow morning. They won’t think to look for a single speeder leaving in less than an hour.”

“Please tell me Josh isn’t taking Marna west,” Dara remarked casually.

“Nope,” Dog replied. “I checked with Zack. They’re going east.”

Dara nodded, satisfied.

“Where to now?” Zack asked.

“Back to the safe house,” Dara said. “Park in the garage, out of sight of the street.

The two speeders meandered slowly back to the safe house, taking different routes. Josh parked outside right away, but Zack had to drive past the house three times before the street was empty of passerby who might notice the military speeder and wonder. He maneuvered smoothly into the garage and the door shut behind them. Zack, Dog, and Dara walked into the house, wearing satisfied expressions on their faces.

“Mission accomplished,” Dog announced proudly to Redding, who waited for them in the kitchen.

Then Dara noticed the dismal look on Redding’s face and how he refused to meet Dara’s eyes.

“Redding,” she said, her smile vanishing, “what happened?”

He squared his shoulders and met her eyes. “Jayem.”

“Did he blow something up?” Dara demanded.

“I don’t know. He’s gone.”

Dara stopped dead still. “What?”

“He left. About forty minutes ago.”

“Why? Where did he go?” she asked furiously.

“I don’t know,” Redding insisted. “He asked when you would be back, and the next thing I knew, he was out the door and driving down the street on one of the speederbikes they brought.”

Her expression was black and angry. “He left. Without a word.”

Redding nodded. “I would have stopped him.”

Dara didn’t reply. She stalked past, trailing fury and muttering darkly under her breath. Redding and Dog exchanged a look, then followed.

~

Fifteen minutes crawled by, and even they seemed to avoid Dara. She was now in a foul mood, growling about the lack of comlinks and Jayem’s unauthorized absence. Her pilots gave her plenty of room to pace and knew better than to ask questions. Dog posted himself at the front window as a lookout, while Redding helped Josh box up computer equipment.

“He’s coming!” Dog yelled across the house.

Dara stopped in mid-stride. She stood perfectly still for a moment, shut her eyes, and breathed deeply. When she opened her eyes, she had reined in her emotions until they no longer radiated from her like heat. Calmly, she went to the entrance hall and waited for Jayem, the other occupants of the house clustering behind her.

Dara’s face was a study in carefully controlled rage as Jayem strolled into the house. “Where have you been?” she bit out, each word articulated precisely.

He grinned. “The spaceport,” he answered.

Dara met his eyes levelly, but did not speak. Her lips pressed tightly together as the silence stretched. Jayem fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable. Dog and Redding glanced at each other and edged a step or so away, just as every member of the Fringe left suddenly remembered tasks to be done in other rooms of the house.

“You left the safe house.” Her voice was soft and even, without even a tremor of anger to reveal her thoughts. “Alone. Without telling anyone.”

Jayem swallowed and managed, “Yes, ma’am.” He had a thousand things to say in his defense, but Dara was every inch his superior officer at that moment, and military protocol stilled his tongue.

Dara’s eyes flashed then, the first hint of the fierce emotion she was trying to clear from her judgment. “Of all the irresponsible, dangerous, ridiculous, idiotic things to do—” She broke off suddenly and took a deep, calming breath. “Why?” she demanded.

“I found our X-wings,” Jayem said, almost defensively.

Dara stopped short, any further words of chastisement abruptly dying. She glared fiercely at him for a full twenty seconds without saying anything. Jayem shifted his weight, unsure of what to expect. Finally, Dara heaved a sigh. “Consider yourself officially reprimanded,” she said wearily, “and never, ever do that again.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am!” he said enthusiastically, and for a moment, Dara actually believed him.

“Where are they?”

“In a hangar on the far west side of the spaceport,” he reported. “Just waiting for us to come and collect them.”

Dara’s eyes took on a faraway gleam, the gleam that meant she was planning something. Her squad waited. Then her gaze focused and she smiled slowly. “Listen up,” she said. “Here’s what we do.”

(to be concluded...)

Diplomatic Relations (Pt 8)

Yesterday

The dawn came hot and early. All traces of the storm that had drenched Stawl for the past few days were burned away under the bright sun. The members of the Fringe woke with the first rays of light. Their activity woke the pilots, who had learned to grab what sleep they could when they could, and who were not incredibly pleased about being woken hours before the start of the mission.

Never a fan of mornings, Dara set about her preparations silently, then disappeared into the kitchen to speak quietly with Josh. Jayem was also quiet, but he glared malevolently at everyone who came near, as if daring them to speak with him. Redding and Dog, after their initial grumbling, were a little more amiable and gave Jayem a wide berth, though Dog made more than one comment about how many hours there were still before they could leave.

In the kitchen, Dara leaned against the counter, her back to the window and the glaring sun. Josh, the only other person in the room, sat at the table a few feet away. He looked worried and pensive. Dara nibbled a corner of her pastry and watched him for a minute before speaking.

“It’ll be okay, Josh.”

He looked up, slightly startled, as if he had forgotten she was standing there. “What if the mechanics won’t give you the speeder?”

She shrugged. “Then we take it.”

“What if you’re stopped? What if the ID card is denied? What if you’re followed?”

Dara held up a hand to cut off the stream of what-ifs. “Then we’ll adapt,” she said calmly. “That’s our job. What you should worry about is what happens after we come back. Marna will be a fugitive. You’ll probably be looking at another Lock Down.”

Josh nodded. “Marna is going to be a non-person without identity papers. He won’t be able to stay here. We’ve had plans for getting him out, but we always thought they would be needed when a warrant came out for his arrest. We have a place for him outside the city, but we’ll need some time to get him there.”

“So, you’ll need a distraction.”

“It would help.”

Dara looked thoughtful. “I think we can come up with something. It won’t be very long, though. Get everything ready to go before we get back.”

Josh nodded gratefully. “We’ll be ready.”

In the living room, Jayem sat on the couch, glowering at everyone who walked by. Zack and Stella were the only ones who dared to enter the living room. Stella smiled at Jayem; Zack ignored him and walked over to the window.

“The rain’s gone,” he commented to Stella. “Sun’s out. That’s a good sign.”

Jayem snorted derisively. “Oh, please,” he said scornfully. “Don’t tell me you believe that meteorological patterns will have any sort of bearing on our mission.”

Zack shot him a withering glance and did not answer, but refused to leave.

The morning wore on. There were a dozen tasks to be finished, and even more when Josh announced they would be abandoning the safe house and everything needed to be ready to go before, and he said it resolutely avoiding the word “if,” Marna returned. There was an excited buzz of activity that followed, prompting a smile from Dara.

Dog’s mood improved every minute that passed, brining them closer to departure. Even Jayem’s fierce glower subsided, though he still spoke to no one. Eventually, he looked more thoughtful than anything. Redding ensconced himself in the computer room, and began to perfect the orders that he would be feeding to the Stawlian Capitol Detention Center computers. Dara made sure she had the copies of all the files the pilots would need to clear Raven and prove the State’s duplicity.

Two hours before they were supposed to leave, Redding, Dara, Josh, Dog, and Zack were all in the computer room. Jayem was off by himself, deep in thought and refusing to tell anyone what he was contemplating. Stella was organizing the packing of the speeders that would carry most of the contents of the safe house away before midday, leaving the others to go over the last minute details of the plan.

Zack was fidgety, just like a green pilot on his first mission. “Hey, Red, did you get the orders ready?”

Redding spared him a withering glare before continuing his work.

“What?” Zack asked, spreading his hands. “What did I say?”

Dara laughed. “He hates to be called Red,” she shared in a stage whisper. “He’s also offended that you would think he hasn’t done his job.”

“Oh.” Zack flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Redding nodded his forgiveness without taking his eyes from the computer screen.

“We have less than two hours before we leave,” Dara said. “Is everyone clear on where they need to be and what they’ll be doing?”

“I’m getting the military speeder from the mechanics,” Dog said. “Then I bring it to the cross street two blocks from here—”

“—where Dara and I will be waiting to join you,” Zack said. “We go to the Detention Center and get Marna. Then we go to the Old Square—”

“—to meet with Stella and myself,” Josh continued. “We return to the safe house to get the computer equipment—”

“—where I’ve been sitting, making sure nothing goes wrong,” Redding said. “We all meet, then Stella, Zack, Marna, and Josh leave the city—”

“—and then we finally get to go home!” Dog finished gleefully. The expression on his face plainly showed that he was more than done with Stawl and ready to leave.

Dara smiled proudly. “Just so,” she said. “Josh, do your people know what do when we leave?”

“Jayse and Donnal are taking the speeders, twenty minutes apart, to the new safe houses. Lyem is staying here to take Stella, Zack, Marna, myself, and the rest of the computer equipment out of town, on the chance that Zack is recognized.”

“And Redding showed you how to monitor security communications to find out if that happens?”

“Redding showed us all kinds of useful tricks,” Zack said happily. “We should be able to find out anything we want, wreak havoc with their systems and not get caught.”

Redding smirked, and Dara nodded approvingly.

“Everything in place, Redding?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” he reported. “The speeder will be at the mechanic’s in an hour, I changed Marna’s departure to fit our timetable, and the rest of the orders are ready to go.”

“Good work.”

“I’m going to go check on the packing,” Josh said and left the room with Zack on his heels.

“Can I have a word, Dara?” Dog asked.

“Certainly. But only one.” She smiled, and they withdrew to a corner. “What’s on your mind?”

“We were talking last night—Jayem, Redding, and me—and we were wondering… what about our X-wings? And yes,” he said swiftly, seeing the teasing remark beginning to form, “I realize that was more than one word.”

Dara grinned unrepentantly, then sobered. “The State had them impounded. I’ve spoken with Marna and Josh about it, and their best guess is the spaceport, but that is only a guess. They’re certainly guarded, though.”

“Then…?” Dog spread his hands in an unspoken question.

“We won’t have time to look for them, Dog,” she said apologetically. “We’ll be cutting it close as it is. We’ll ship out with Raven and the diplomatic team, and let the New Republic try to get our starfighters back. I don’t like it either,” she said in response to the sour look on her comrade’s face. “But we don’t have much choice. Our movements are limited, even if we weren’t mounting a rescue operation.”

Despite his disgruntled expression, Dog nodded his understanding and rejoined Redding to pass along Dara’s answer.

The last thirty minutes dragged by even slower than the previous hours had. Everyone succumbed to eyeing their chronos every two minutes. All preparations were complete and there was little left to do but wait. Dara, Zack, and Dog were wearing the all-black outfits worn by the guards, to be supplemented by the official jackets that would complete the disguise when the moment came. Redding had all security camera feeds up to monitor their progress. Stella and Josh had prepped the other speeder and were ready to leave for the Old Square.

Finally, Dara gathered everyone in the entrance hall with five minutes left. Excited tension practically hummed in the air, and she saw a level of enthusiasm in the members of the Fringe that had not been there before. She looked around. “You all know what to do?” The handful of people around her all nodded eagerly. Dara grinned, a nasty feral grin that promised bad things for anyone who would dare get in her way. “Then let’s go.”

Her words brought about an instant flurry of activity. Redding and Lyem hurried back to the computer room; Jayse and Donnal went to the speeders, along with Josh and Stella; Dog headed out the front door on his way to the mechanic’s; and Dara and Zack followed him a minute later, appearing to be leaving for a leisurely stroll. Everyone was excited and nervous.

It took Dog fifteen minutes to walk to the shop. He was easily able to bribe the mechanics to let him borrow the speeder, promising to return it within two hours. He told them it was to win a bet with a long time rival. The mechanics couldn’t understand why it had been sent for maintenance in the first place and were happy to make some extra money, so they asked no questions.

Dog brought the speeder to the cross street where Zack and Dara waited, wearing the black uniforms of the Stawlian Guard, but with their jackets, and Dog’s, draped over their arms. Zack took the driver’s seat and Dog slid into the back with Dara. They all shrugged into their jackets and made the twenty minute trip in apprehensive silence.

The detention facility looked menacing with its sharp angles and hard surfaces. There was no landscaping, only harsh metal and duracrete. Zack swallowed hard; Dara noticed and laughed sympathetically.

“Just stick to the plan, Zack, and we’ll be out before it can bite you.”

Zack nodded and brought the speeder to a smooth stop before the guard stationed at the entrance. He managed to keep his expression neutral, almost bored, as he handed over his ID card and waited for clearance. The guard glanced idly in the back of the speeder, nodding to Dara and Dog, but did not comment. He returned the ID badge and waved them through. Zack nearly melted into his seat from relief.

“We’re not through yet,” Dara said quietly. “Keep it together.”

At that, Zack straightened. He guided the speeder to the building where the prisoner transfers were made. Then, taking a deep breath to steel himself, he got out of the speeder and walked to the guard on duty.

They had reached the point of the mission where nothing they could do would get them to Marna. They had to trust to Redding’s falsified orders, hope that the system hadn’t already corrupted them, and wait for the State to bring Marna to them. Dara and Dog let their hands rest on their weapons, just in case a hasty exit would be necessary, and waited.



(to be continued...)

Diplomatic Relations (Pt 7)

{And you thought you'd never read any of this ever again. Hahahahahahahahaha}

They worked for more than four hours before breaking for a meal. The conversation around the table was light-hearted and optimistic, a pleasant change from the gloom that had dominated the atmosphere for the last two days. There were actually smiles and jokes. Even Dog and Zack had stopped glowering at each other and were mostly agreeable. Josh lost some of the tension that had been slowly conquering his features, and he seemed more like the man Dara had met four days earlier.
Dara let them relax and recuperate for nearly an hour before calling them back together.
“All right,” she said, raising her voice slightly and effectively drawing everyone’s attention. “What do we have, what do we need, and how do we get it?”
“An ID card, which we have,” Redding said first, and that was met with broad smiles throughout the room.
“Uniforms,” Zack added. “We have those as well. Also, regulation weapons and insignia.” He glanced over at Josh and answered the unspoken question. “You really don’t want to know how we got them.”
Josh just shook his head ruefully.
“We need a military speeder,” Jayem said.
“We’ll discuss logistics on that in a minute,” Dara answered. “Anything else?”
“Military orders,” Dog put in. “Redding can forge those.”
“A drop point and an escape route,” Josh pointed out.
“Okay.” Dara looked around. “Anything else? No? All right, then. First up. How do we come by a military speeder…without alerting everyone that we’re coming?”
No one spoke for a long minute, and no one looked at each other, either.
Dara tilted her head. “Come on, people. We need ideas. Even stupid ones, even bad ones, even impossible ones that would never work in a million years. We have to have something to work with.”
There was absolute silence for a handful of seconds as everyone looked around the room uncomfortably, studiously avoiding Dara’s gaze.
“What if we asked them politely?” Dog suggested dryly.
The laughter that followed served to ease the tension.
“Sure,” Dara said. “I’ll put you in charge of that.”
More laughter, because almost as ludicrous as the idea of getting a speeder by asking politely was the thought of Dog doing the asking.
“Anyone else have a slightly less improbably idea?”
“We’re not used to planning missions like this, Dara,” Josh reminded her. “We don’t know where to begin.”
“I understand that,” she acknowledged, “but any idea can turn into a springboard.”
Redding half-raised a hand. “What about—“
“Oh, no,” Jayem groaned. “Not the ion bomb.”
Redding looked insulted. Dara and Dog couldn’t quite hide their smiles. Everyone else looked confused.
“Ion?” Josh asked.
“Ionized particles mess with computer systems, usually short-circuiting them,” Jayem said. “The trouble is that it’s impossible to guarantee the level of damage caused.”
“I could fix any problems,” Redding insisted. “It would give us time to deal with the occupants.”
“Which would also pose a problem,” Jayem countered. “Ions interfere with electronics, not with biological creatures. They’re only going to be mad when they pour out of that speeder, and they’ll likely be looking for something to shoot.”
Dara held up a hand before the argument could escalate. “Redding, assuming that you were able to reverse any damage and that we could neutralize the guards, do you even have your ion bombs with you?”
Redding looked indignant. “Of course I do. I—” his indignation faded to chagrin— “I left them in our rooms the night at the Hall of Roses.”
Dara nodded. “It was a good idea, nonetheless.”
Jayem grinned triumphantly, and Redding shot him a nasty look.
Zack stared blankly past all the discussion in the room, unaware of the argument and completely lost in thought.
“Zack?” Dara had to repeat his name before he heard. “What are you thinking?”
He shrugged self-consciously. “Maybe nothing. But I remember a friend of mine saying that the State contracts out its mechanical work, and I’m wondering if that applies to speeders as well.”
“Can you find out?”
He swiveled in his chair to face a console. “I can try.”
The conversation continued to flow around him as he searched. A few minutes later, he had his answer.
“Speeders get sent to a private company less than a kilometer away. They do regular maintenance as well as repairs.”
Dara’s eyes narrowed in concentration, then she turned to Redding, her mouth opening to speak.
He spoke for her. “Could I make a work order to send a perfectly functioning speeder for maintenance so that we can grab the speeder from the mechanic, as private companies tend to have security that is more lax than military, and they wouldn’t be in a hurry to mention that they ‘lost’ a speeder for fear that they’d lose their contract.”
“Exactly,” Dara said, amusement flickering across her face.
“Why can’t we just get in uniform and tell the mechanics we have orders to pick it up?”
“Because the company’s employees do all the vehicle transfers,” Zack answered. “They’d need very specific instructions to allow something like that.”
“Okay, then. So it’s Redding to the rescue once more.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” Dara asked.
“I’m just wondering what everyone else is going to be doing during this rescue op.”
“Three of us are going in to get Marna. There should be two people waiting for us at the rendezvous with the transfer speeder.” She paused. “You’re unhappy that you’ll be here with the computers instead of out on the mission.”
He shrugged. “Maybe a little. But I’ll content myself with running the whole thing,” he said with a magnanimous sweep of his hand.”
Her face was solemn, but her eyes were laughing when she answered. “Well, then, General Redding, we’re counting on you for the success of our mission.”
In the background, Jayem snorted.
“A general is as good as the soldiers he commands,” Redding said loftily.
Dog was leaning back against the wall, eyes closed. “Then your career is doomed,” he said.
Josh waited for the laughter to stop before he looked at Dara. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” she said flatly. “You’re not.”
He bristled. “I know I don’t have as much experience as the rest of you, but—“
“This is not about wanting a team of elites, Josh. I’m not worried about that.”
“Then why?”
“If we fail, then the Fringe will be without a leader. I won’t put you in danger, but not because I don’t think you can handle it.”
Josh’s face tightened, but his people murmured their assent.
“I want to come, then,” Zack said.
Dara regarded him evenly. “This isn’t going to be easy, and it’s not a glory mission. You know the consequences better than we do if we fail. Why do you want to come?”
“You need a driver. I know the streets. If you get lost, or seem like you don’t know where you’re going, you’ll raise their suspicions immediately.”
After a long moment of thought, Dara nodded once. “Zack, you’re our driver. Can you use a blaster, if the need arises?”
“I can.”
“Good. You’ll come with Dog and me.” She looked at Dog, who offered a feral grin, and then at Jayem. “Jayem?”
He looked up with an expression of suppressed surprise that told Dara that he had not been listening.
“You’ll stay here with Redding, “ she repeated.
“Sure. Fine,” he said absently, and Dara knew he was off on a tangent in his mind.
She shrugged, presuming that he was trying to sort out Stawl’s economy or the exchange ratio between the New Republic credit and the State’s currency. “Next, we need to find a nice, out of the way rendezvous. Some place where no one will see us, but where it wouldn’t look odd to be seen going there.”
“Some place secluded, nowhere close to a security hub, but where military speeders go?”
“You have an idea, Zack?”
“I think so. The Old Square. It’s more or less deserted, and anyone we might see wouldn’t necessarily be a friend of the State. It’s blocks away from any security hub, but military speeders sometimes get called out there. No one would notice or care if someone waited around with a speeder.” He looked at Josh. “It’s also far enough away from any of our safe houses that we wouldn’t be leaving an obvious trail.”
Josh nodded his approval, then “I’ll meet you there with one of our covered speeders.”
“Josh—“
“No, Dara. I cannot stay here and do nothing. I understand why you do not want me to go with you, but the least I can do is be there to welcome Marna back. You can’t deny me that.”
Dara raised her eyebrows. “I was going to say, that’s a good idea. You should choose someone to go with you. It never hurts to have an extra set of eyes.”
“Oh.” He grinned awkwardly. “All right, then.”
“Great. Zack, you mentioned uniforms. Let’s see what you have.”

Diplomatic Relations (Pt 6)

{Yes, I know that it's been a while since I posted. Let me warn you that it might be a while before it's truly finished. School is eating up every spare minute of time I have, plus all brain cells normally devoted to writing. But it will be finished. Hopefully soon, but don't quote me. That being said, I did want to give you a little more of what I have. Also, my font is messing up, and I don't know how to fix it. :~p }

For an hour, they debated hotly about the viability of a rescue. Every plan that was projected was quickly shot down. The ID card lying on the table received more than one bitter glance. Being in possession of one card was almost worse than having none, since it had raised and then crushed everyone’s hopes.

Redding had retreated back to the computers, leaving the rest to argue about the best point of contact. Of the three possible locations—the Detention Center, in transit, and the court house—the Detention Center had been completely ruled out, the court house had been deemed too risky, and now they were studying the route between the two.

“What about this intersection?” Dara pointed to a place on the map. “Not a major intersection, no large businesses, and at least eight minutes from the Detention Center and six from the court house.”

“No good.” Josh touched a building three blocks away. “This is a security hub. They could have us in custody before we got the doors open.”

Jayem frowned. “They have those hubs very efficiently placed.”

“Here, then,” Dog said. “They pass a side street halfway through the route, and it’s ten blocks to the nearest hub. If we work fast—“

“No good.” Jayem shot it down this time. “There are too many businesses there, and they’ll definitely be populated. We can’t risk that many people seeing us, and I doubt we could lure the transport into a side street.”

“I knew this wouldn’t work,” one of the Fringe’s computer experts said glumly. “This whole scheme is impossible, especially on such short notice. If we had another card—“

“But you don’t,” Dog snapped. “And if you want our help, you don’t have the time to get one. If you’d like to wait until we’re gone and your leader has been transferred somewhere more secure, then be my guest. “

“Dog.” There was more than a hint of warning in Dara’s voice.

“We never asked for your help,” the man retorted. “We were fine before you came, and we’ll be fine when you’re gone.”

“That’s enough, Zack,” Josh said firmly. “We wouldn’t even be having this meeting if it weren’t for these pilots. The least you can do is be civil.”

Zack and Dog glared at each other, and the tension in the room was almost tangible.

“I think we should take a break,” Dara suggested. “Fifteen minutes to clear our heads and get some fresh perspective. I’ll get Redding to pull the floor plan of the court house, and we’ll see if we can find a chink in the armor there when we get back.”

They dispersed with a minimum of grumbling. Josh threw a worried look Dara’s way, to which she replied with a reassuring smile as she left the room.

The computer room was quiet when Dara walked in. Redding was the only occupant, leaning back in his chair, his feet kicked up on another, staring at the console. Dara glanced at the screen and saw that he was watching security cam feeds from the Detention Center.

“Redding, we need floor plans for the court house. And if you could get the security schedules, too, that would be….” Her voice trailed off, and her face was a study in concentration.

“Splendid? Horrid? Fantastic? Awful?” Redding prompted. He looked up at her, caught her expression. “What is it?”

Abruptly Dara burst out laughing. Redding shot her a look suggesting that he was ready to call the psych medics.

“It’s perfect,” she gasped in between taking deep breaths to compose herself. “I can’t believe we missed it.”

“Missed what?” Redding demanded.

She pointed to a screen, and Redding frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Watch.”

He did, then his expression cleared, and his eyes lit with understanding. “Oh! Of course!”

“Prepare to be invaded,” she warned him. “I’m going to bring everyone in here.”

“Anything I should start doing?”

“See what kind of orders you’ll need to falsify. And double check what time Marna is scheduled to be transferred.”

“Will do.” Redding sat up straight and began feeding commands into the computer.

* * *

“That is our solution,” Dara said, pointing at the screen.

“Transport speeders?” Josh asked incredulously. “How?”

“We don’t have to go into the Detention Center to get Marna. We’ll just pick him up at the door.” Redding wore a very satisfied expression.

“Exactly,” Dara confirmed. “Play the portion of the vid that I showed you.”

Redding found the correct marker and played it. They all watched as three guards signed out a speeder and drove it out of the garage.

“And this helps us?” Zack’s disbelief was plain in his voice. “Instead of two guards, now there are three, and we still only have the one ID card.”

“Watch again,” Dara directed. “Yes, there are three guards, but notice how many of them produce their ID card.”

The room was very quiet as they realized what Dara was driving at.

“Three guards, one ID,” Josh said in a hushed voice.

“So, Redding falsifies orders for us to get the speeder and pick up Marna, and we just drive out, free and clear?” Dog shook his head. “How did we miss that?”

“We’ll have to ditch the speeder immediately after leaving the Center, though,” Jayem cautioned. “They likely all have homing beacons so they can be tracked.”

“Not a problem,” Josh said, a trace of dazed wonder in his expression. “We’ll have our own speeder ready for transfer somewhere nearby.”

“Excellent,” Dara said. “Redding, pull up all the information you can on prisoner transfer protocol, this one in particular, including holocams and personnel logs. We’re going to go over every step of this plan. I don’t want any surprises.”

(to be continued...)

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...)

Diplomatic Relations (Pt 4)

{Sorry for the Delay. I blame Finals.}

Dara had been impressed with the Fringe’s efficiency. Every trace of their presence had been removed in less than two hours, except that which could be explained by the presence of a married couple who had lived there for several years—the house’s cover story. No one had panicked or shown any trace of fear beyond their initial reaction to Stella’s news; rather, they had worked in relative silence, with no words wasted beyond the occasional curt order. Their movements showed that they had done this more than once.

The trip to the new safe house had been tense, but they made it safely, without incident. Dara saw the wisdom of scattering, even beyond splitting forces to cover trails and not draw attention. The safe house that Josh brought them to was already occupied by a four-man communications team. Josh, Redding, Dara, and Stella took that count to eight, a tight fit in a house with four bedrooms, one of those crammed to bursting with computers and monitoring equipment.

Redding took one look at their set up and Dara knew he was lost for decent company. The Fringe was surprisingly well-supplied when it came to electronics, and the last thing Dara heard Redding say as he disappeared into the room of wires and consoles was an incredulous, “How did you get a hold of a Centurion Alpha Decrypt Processor?”

Dara helped unload the speeder and get the house set up as an acting headquarters for the Fringe. It was to be their command center because Josh was now in charge. Dara watched him with some significant measure of approval as he eased into the vacant leadership position. He slid competently from task to task, whether the job was calming frantic worries as news of Marna’s arrest spread throughout the Fringe, or if it was delegating the many chores that needed to be accomplished. As Dara looked on, she concluded that Marna had made a wise decision when he chose his second-in-command.

Dara felt rather useless as the day wore on. Redding was in his element, teaching the Stawlians new tricks of getting into State-protected files and regaining access to Diplomat Raven’s communications, while Josh was completely absorbed with adjusting to his new role. She took some time to update her report to Rogue, and spent the majority of the rest of the day talking to Stella, trying to get a better grasp on the Stawlian mindset and exactly what the Fringe was trying to accomplish.

Four Days Ago

“I’m sorry, Dara. We can’t risk it right now.” Josh spread his hands, palm up, apologetically. “All unnecessary traffic between safe houses has been restricted.”

Dara carefully kept the disappointment she felt tucked behind smooth features. “I understand.” And she did. Less than a week on the planet had given her a fast education on what the State was capable of when operating on ultimate suspicion. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Josh nodded absently, his attention already half-turned on the next task.

Dara walked through the house, preparing herself for another day of frustrating inactivity. The laughter coming from the living room told Dara that Redding had emerged from the computer room long enough to realize that Stella was the same girl he had bumped into the night of the welcome banquet and that he was doing a great job distracting her from her emotions over Marna’s arrest. Not wishing to disturb them, and with nothing better to do, she went to her room to revise the report she had written for Rogue.

* * *

It was raining, a steady downpour that did nothing to alleviate the heavy feeling of despair that had taken permanent residence in the safe house. Even Celeste’s perpetual good humor had disappeared beneath lines of worry. The only person who was not downcast by the weather was Jayem. He was unnaturally cheerful, depressingly cheerful, even, though he tried to temper his expression of his mood.

Dog sat by a window, staring alternately in consternation at the rain and at the newsfeed from the Holonet playing in the corner. The Stawlian news network was doing a fantastic job of talking incessantly and yet saying nothing at all. He glanced over at the doorway and saw Celeste, clutching a glass like an EV pilot would cling to life support. Her features were taut with stress and anxiety.

Dog stood and faced Celeste, frustration plain on his face. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “We’ve been here three days, and you haven’t told us who you are or who you were taking us to meet. Now you say the meeting’s been called off, and everyone in this house is acting like the Emperor resurrected, and I doubt it’s due to the weather.”

“The meeting hasn’t been called off, it’s merely been postponed,” Celeste said tightly. “And because of security concerns, I can’t tell you more than that.”

“You think we don’t understand the need for security?” Jayem asked. “We’re in the military, Celeste. We’ve been on our share of classified missions. Is there anything you can tell us?”

Celeste’s features tightened even more, and anger sparked in her eyes. “You don’t understand,” she snapped. “How could you? You were never beaten at school because someone started rumors that you didn’t support the State. You never had friends walk past you on the street without a glimmer of recognition because your brother had just been executed for treason and they feared any familiarity would condemn them, too. In the rest of the galaxy, information is power. On Stawl, information is deadly. We don’t tell more than we absolutely have to. Ever.”

“You’re right,” Dog countered, making no attempt to hide his irritation. “We never experienced any of that. But I’ve lost count of the number of covert ops we’ve been on, where one word in the wrong ear would obliterate an entire squadron in a heartbeat. We’ve been privy to tactics and strategies that, if leaked, would destroy what the New Republic was trying to accomplish in entire sectors, costing thousands of lives. In the military, you learn to keep your mouth shut, because you never know if the resulting vibroblade will find your back, or your buddy’s.”

“We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on,” Jayem added in what he hoped was a reasonable tone of voice.

“Let’s get one thing straight here,” Celeste bit out. “You are not here to help us. We are helping you, and the skies know why we’re bothering. You’re in our territory, you play by our rules. Understood?”

Dog’s jaw clenched as he met her gaze fiercely. Without replying, he wheeled away and returned to staring out the window. Celeste shifted her burning stare from him to Jayem, who merely shrugged. With no other opposition to fight, she stalked angrily out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Brilliant,” Dog muttered. “Not only is the State crazy, but the other side is crazy, too.”

“What does it matter, as long as we get offworld?” Jayem asked.

“If we get offworld. Have you noticed any plans being made to accomplish that end?”

Jayem shook his head slowly.

“Then either they’re not being made, or our hosts aren’t telling us about them. Frankly, neither option would surprise me, but nor do they help us. We’re effectively stuck, and the minute Raven leaves Stawl, our last reasonable chance of getting off this miserable planet leaves, too.”

“So what do we do?”

Dog heaved a sigh. “What can we do? We keep pushing. They have to tell us something sooner or later.”

Jayem rolled his eyes to express his sentiment of that course of action, but Dog was no longer looking at him. His attention had drifted back to the newscast, where the reporter was reciting crime statistics. Jayem shrugged again, then wandered off in search of something to eat.

Three Days Ago

“Josh, we need to talk.” Dara leaned against the doorway to the computer room, hands jammed in her pockets.

He glanced up and signaled her to wait. Dara watched the activity in the room with passing interest while Josh finished at his console. Then he removed his headphones and stood, turning toward her.

“We have a time,” he said, walking past her and leading the way to the kitchen. “The New Republic will be picking up the rest of the diplomatic team in two days, at 1500. They’re still arguing about where.” He poured two drinks and handed her one. “What’s on your mind?”

“We need to talk about Marna.”

Despair flicked across his expression. “What about him?”

“I’m concerned about your people’s fatalistic attitudes. In all the conversations I’ve heard, they refer to him as if he’s already dead. Is he?”

“No,” Josh admitted. “But he might as well be.”

“Are you telling me there’s no hope?”

“Dara—“

“Answer me.”

He heaved a sigh. “The chances of Marna surviving State confinement are very slim.”

“And what are the chances of getting him out?”

Josh’s eyebrows flew up and he let out a startled half-laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Very. Why can’t we get him out?” She set her drink down, untouched.

His features darkened. “Don’t say that so the others can hear you,” he said softly, anger in his voice.

Dara crossed her arms and tilted her chin defiantly. “And why not?”

“You’ll give them false hope. No one has ever escaped State confinement. Ever,” he said flatly, keeping his voice low.

“That you know of,” Dara countered. “It is perfectly plausible that the State would want to cover up something like that.”

“No. We would have heard of it.”

“So you won’t even try.” Dara matched the volume of his voice.

“It would be pointless and futile. I won’t send my people on a suicide mission, and neither would Marna.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Marna knew the danger in such a venture.”

“There’s a big difference between knowing the risks and letting the possibility of failure scare you into inaction.”

“I’m not scared, I’m being realistic!” he whispered fiercely. “Our numbers are too few to risk a doomed mission.”

“Listen to yourself! This is exactly what the State wants: your belief that they are omniscient and infallible. Your whole movement revolves around proving that they aren’t, and, frankly, slowly leaking information, patching in ghost transmissions over newscasts, and word of mouth will only get you so far. You have to show that the State is not as untouchable as it appears to be if you want anything changed, and rolling over and playing dead when they capture your leader is not the way to do that.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Dara. Moving slowly and covertly is the only way we’re going to make any changes at all.”

“So you all die of old age while the State remains as strong as ever.” She held up a hand to forestall any reply. “As an overall strategy, slow and covert is a great way to bring about permanent change, but every so often you have to make enough noise to let the State know you’re here.”

“The point is that they don’t know we’re here,” Josh said patiently.

“How long has your group existed?”

“Six years.”

“Then you can bet they know about you,” Dara assured him.

“Impossible. They would have come after us long ago if that were true.”

“Why would they? You’re not a threat to them as long as you’re jumping at your own shadows. And no one else is going to listen to you if you stay ineffective. A move like this would get your leader out of jail and it would send the message that you’re serious. If you don’t believe in your cause, then no one else will fight for it, either.”

“First you say I’m a coward, now you say I don’t believe in our cause?” His fists clenched at his sides.

She met his gaze evenly. “Do you?”

Silence hung thick between them for several seconds.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I do.”

“Do they know that?” She jerked her head towards the door, indicating the rest of the people in the house.

“They should.”

“They should?” she echoed. “What will do you to make sure they do?”

“Is there anything else, Dara?” Josh’s voice was strained from the effort he was making to control his anger.

“Yes,” she said. “Marna started the Fringe, correct?”

“Yes,” he said slowly.

“Then doesn’t he deserve the chance to see this all the way through?” she asked quietly.

Josh stared at her, his jaw muscles flexing.

“Revolutions aren’t safe, Josh. You’ll have to take a chance some day, about something. Why not about this?” She held his gaze for a moment, then turned and walked out the door without waiting for a reply.

She almost bumped into Redding just outside the kitchen. She eyed him narrowly. “How long were you listening?”

Redding shrugged and fell in step with her. “Long enough. Do you think he’ll change his mind?”

Dara sighed and lowered her voice. “I hope so. Marna is the adhesive holding this group together. Josh will do an admirable job, but he lacks the ability to see the big picture. He’s very protective of his people, but he needs to learn that they’re willing to die for this, and that he must let them accomplish something measurable. Rescuing the man who has the vision, passion, and potential to make a real difference in this world would be perfect.”

Redding nodded.

“Don’t speak of this to anyone,” Dara added. “Regardless of his decision, I don’t want to undermine Josh’s authority here.”

“As ordered, Major.” Redding tossed her a casual salute and veered off towards the computer room.

* * *

“Dara.”

Dara looked up and saw Josh standing a few steps away, hands clasped behind his back and feet slightly apart. Slowly, she rose and matched his military posture.

“Yes?”

“You said a lot. Some of it was dead wrong. You don’t understand how many risks we take just to distribute information. But some of it was more than right, and I thank you for reminding me that we are a revolution and not just a political movement.”

Dara nodded acknowledgment. “Sometimes all you need is an outside perspective.”

“So. We’re going to try something that’s never been done. Where do we start?”

A grin broke across Dara’s face. “Get Redding and your computer expert, and we’ll see what we can come up with.”