The huge ballroom of The Addonitis Hotel glittered that night, filled to the brim with notable Smuggler's Alliance and Band members decked out in their best. Wine and good food flowed, and the music played. In short, the evening was magical, as befitted the celebration of the birth of the twin children of Myra Jade and her husband, Com Wedge. Over a month of cleanup had necessitated postponement of the celebration, but what they may have lacked in timing the Smugglers were making up for in style.
Warden laughed and smiled as he whirled the lovely and laughing Lieutenant Adrea Ordan around the dance floor. Her bright blue eyes twinkled up at him, and though she was over half a foot shorter, she kept pace with him in the complicated steps of an old Corellian court dance. When the music slowed, they retired to his table, where Kai and Adara were also returning from the rousing rounds about the dance floor.
"Well, Kai," Warden grinned at his friend, "What do you think?"
"Of your company?" Kai grinned back. "I can do without your showboating. Your new friend however…" He cast twinkling eyes on the slightly nervous Adrea, who blushed.
Adara elbowed Kai in the stomach lightly. "Hush, you two." She took Adrea's arm. "Come on, Adrea, there's a few people I'd like you to meet." The two women glided away, arm in arm, laughing. Warden's eyes followed them for a moment, and then he turned back to Kai.
"What do you think of her?" He inquired of his friend.
"She's lovely and quite intelligent. You found a winner." Kai saluted his commander with his wineglass.
"I know. I think I'm going to hire her on as the Huntsman's new comm officer."
"That's one way of keeping her close."
Warden winked mischievously. "Well, if I'm going to be stuck on Nakoma for the next two weeks so that the High Council can meet and discuss EVERYTHING we've been up to, why shouldn't I make a new friend?"
"Or two…" Kai needled Warden.
Warden just shook his head. "Not this time. Something's different about her."
This time it was Kai's eyebrows that shot up. Warden just laughed at his friend. "It's been nearly a year since the clone of my wife died, and she died three years before that. I wasn't in love with her clone, she just brought out emotions I hadn't dealt with. Besides, memories alone aren't enough to keep me warm these days. When you get to be my age…"
"Right, thirty four, a properly decrepit old age!" The two burst into laughter. Kai's eye caught something and he sobered up. "What's with Thane?"
Warden pivoted in his chair for a look. Thane was sitting at a corner table, drinking slowly but steadily. He was slumped in his chair, looking at nothing. Warden sighed and got up. "I have a good idea. I'll see you tomorrow, Kai." He found Adrea and made his apologies for being unable to escort her home, and obtained permission to call her the next evening. Satisfied, he walked over to Thane's table, pulling up a chair. Thane raised his head to acknowledge his friend, but said nothing. Warden looked at the younger man, and then let out a long-suffering sigh. "Looking at her all night long won't help you any, you know."
That brought the young admiral around. "Excuse me?"
"You can't keep tormenting yourself over losing Myra, Thane." Warden looked at his friend with understanding, not pity. "She's made her choice, and it's not you. The best way to love her now is to let her go."
"What would you know?" Thane paused, realizing whom it was he'd spoken to. His gaze took in Warden's close-cropped white hair and the scar that made his otherwise-handsome face take on a slightly sinister bent - the physical price Warden had paid for his own lost love. "I'm sorry, Warden, I didn't-"
"It's all right, Thane." Warden smiled sadly. "I understand what you're feeling. Wanting to care for her by protecting her life and those of her children is admirable, but it'll only end up taxing your spirit. You'll spend all your energy in walling up your feelings and your desires, instead of healing the hurt. I'm not telling you to stop loving her, that's impossible. She's made her choice, whether it's for her or just her children, and it doesn't help that you have to work in close concert with her and Com. I know that's not fair to you. But don't wall up or run away from your feelings. Because when they decide to break loose, it'll hurt you."
Thane nodded, but Warden could tell he wasn't convinced. He sighed again. Warden felt the recent losses of Smugglers under his command very keenly, and the sight of those smugglers who'd been wounded still tugged at his conscience. He'd be damned if another friend of his was going to get eaten alive by a situation out of their control. "Come on, let's blow this party." He hefted a half-empty bottle of wine. "This stuff hasn't got any kick to it. What say you and I go get drunk on something worthwhile and maybe even start a brawl or two?"
Thane looked at him for a moment, then nodded.
The office was dark and austere; the setting sun of Coruscant cast shadows throughout the room, obscuring the figure at the large, spartan desk. That figure sat back in a large, plush chair, fingers steepled, tapping them against his lips. Blue eyes like chips of ice stared at nothing. With a hiss of breath, a pale, long-fingered hand reached out and touched a button on a panel built in to the desk. A beep signaled the response, and shortly, a silhouette appeared at one of the large double doors to the office.
"Yes, sir?" The voice was youngish, with a brisk, clipped quality.
"Major," the figure's voice was a soft hiss, like scales on leather, tinged with an odd accent, "has the file I gave you been properly placed?"
"Yes, sir. You're orders were followed to the letter. Our source on Nakoma says that the Smugglers should run across it tomorrow during their daily information-gathering jaunt. As ordered, counter-intelligence will put up a fight, but let their slicers have the file, and assorted other, inconsequential ones."
"Good." The figure swung his chair towards the windows looking out towards the Imperial Palace. "You may go home now, Major Kurgan."
"Very good, General."
The door closed quietly. The figure steepled his fingers again, and slowly, softly, began to chuckle. "Now, my wayward pupil, we will see how much you really learned."
Warden trotted down the halls towards his guest chambers, shirt covered in sweat. He'd just spent two hours sparring with Thane. For the past few days, the two of them had taken to sparring with lightsabers or fists and feet in order to relieve the endless boredom brought on by the High Council meetings. Warden loved political wheeling and dealing, and, to a lesser degree, administrating his companies, but he was, at heart, a man of action. Come lunchtime, his energy would be screaming for release.
The exercise had an ulterior motive as well; Warden refused to let Thane spend too much time fretting over his woes. It's hard to think depressing thoughts while someone's feet are flashing by your face. Warden rubbed a bruised shoulder as he opened the doors to his chambers. Thane was pretty good, he thought. He raised his arm a little too fast snagging his towel.
Ow. Dammit. This is not working quite the way it should… hmm, maybe Adrea would be willing to rub my poor abused muscles… Humming to himself, Warden turned on the shower and stepped in.
Bredy was bored. Very very bored. His hacking program was whirring away, intercepting Imperial security measures and dispensing with them. Until the new codes were brought out next month, Bredy didn't have much to worry about: his program would hack into most subdirectories unless they were very sensitive. He stifled a yawn with one hand while tossing a rubber ball with another. His four other hands were busily folding two paper airplanes.
His monitor lit up as the program notified him that it was done hacking. He swung over and began to scroll down. Click. Click. Boooooring. Then Bredy sat up a little straighter, something actually catching his interest. A partially deleted directory, like someone had been in a rush, or just sloppy. Let's see, where's it from… The answer got him to focus his eyes on his terminal with interest. The Ubiqutorate database on Ord Mantell. Interesting…
Bredy began to scroll through, making a note of the files that were incomplete. Towards the end they became full files. A blinking light notified Bredy that an Imperial slicer was trying to locate him and cut off his access. Bredy hit a few keys, downloading the material, and then began fending off the Imperial. When his download was complete, he cut off the connection himself, not wanting the Imperials to know who had hacked in.
Leaning back, squeezing the rubber ball, he began scrolling through the complete files. Half an hour in, he sat bolt upright. Operation: Huntsman, the file began. But what had caught his attention…Subject: Infiltration of Smuggler's Band. He began scrolling quickly, searching for a name, something that might hold a clue…
There.
Oh my sweet Divinity, protector of all…
The name. Right there. Operative: Major Krischen Raef. The picture was of a familiar face, before the scar and the white hair, but well known nonetheless. The caption read Codename: Grimm. The Supreme Commander was not going to be happy.
The door chime sounded just as Warden was pulling on his shirt. "Just a second!" he yelled, muffled by his shirt. The chime sounded again. "I said just a second!" A third time. Finger-combing his hair, Warden rushed to the door. "I said gimme a second, dammit! Who the hell's dying?"
He flung open the door to behold the faces of Thane and S'lverfox, whose red eyes gleamed with a positively homicidal light. Behind them stood four guards. Their blasters were in their hands. "What the hell?" Warden looked at his friends for an explanation.
Thane wouldn't look at him. "Warden, I… I wanted them to let me be the one… It's-"
A sharp growl from S'lverfox cut him off. "Warden Grimm, you are under arrest."
Warden gaped at the bristling wolfman, then turned his incredulous gaze on his friend. "Is this some sort of perverse joke?"
The worry in Thane's eyes brought him up short. "No, Warden. I wish it were."
S'lverfox had no such worries. "You will accompany us. Now." Warden nodded, slowly moving his hand towards his belt. The guards tensed, and Warden gave them a blank stare. He unbuckled his gunbelt and handed it to Thane.
"We’re going to see Wedge?" Thane nodded. "Let's go."
The mood in the Supreme Commander's office wasn't any better. If anything, it was worse. Com Wedge sat at his desk, eyes hard and unreadable. Nathan stood to his right, armed and looking at Warden with open loathing. Myra sat in another chair, her eyes filled with pain. Those eyes made Warden decide that something was very wrong, something more than a misunderstanding. Wedge raised his eyes to meet Warden's. "Will you sit down?"
"Thank you, sir, I think I'll stand." Warden assumed a parade rest stance, squaring his shoulders. No gesture of dismissal was given to the guards, which didn't surprise Warden. He wasn't cuffed, and he was known as a deadly hand to hand combatant, even before he'd been able to augment his skills with the Force.
"Are you sure… Major?" Warden's eyes widened a bit. So, they'd found out about his old days in the Ubiqutorate. Well, that was worse than Thane's years in the Imperial Army, but surely Com Wedge, himself once a Grand Admiral, knew that people changed.
Wedge tossed a file on the table, but Warden made no move to pick it up, sure of what it held. "Major Krischen Raef, Imperial Ubiqutorate Special Forces. I had Intel do some digging. Quite an impressive background. A Ward of the Empire since age fourteen, and educated at the Thrawn Academy on Corellia- where only the most promising of orphans are sent for four years of the hardest training in the known Galaxy. Commissioned into the Imperial Navy, age eighteen, trained for one year at the Imperial Naval Academy, then selected for special service in the Ubiqutorate. At age 21, assigned to the Ubiqutorate Special Forces. Your record goes on for another six years, after which, you are a gray screen."
Warden only nodded, disputing none of this. "It says your brother is Captain Kazander Raef." Warden winced at that. The Butcher of Iddikol was not a relative one easily owned up to. Wedge noticed that, acknowledged it with a flicker of an eyelid, then continued. "Let's see. Codename: Grimm." Again, a tight nod was Warden's only reply. That name was also well known in intelligence circles. For six years, an Imperial operative known only as Grimm had been the bane of the Galactic Republic's intelligence circles. Many a hit-team had come back with empty hands, and a few had not returned at all. Grimm had been notorious for being able to break in to secure complexes, and for the capture of several renowned Republic agents. Warden said nothing, for he had been good at his job, as much as he had come to hate it.
Wedge continued. "Age twenty-seven, assigned to a special unit, Wardens of the Empire, then sent on a special assignment, Operation Huntsman." Wedge filled those two words with contempt. ”Not too bright of you to use such names so blatantly."
Warden's face filled with confusion. "Operation? Wardens of the Empire? Where the hell did you get this file? I don't know what you're talking about!" Warden's eyes flicked from face to face, but neither Myra nor Thane would meet his gaze. "Damn it, I'm being set up!" Wedge only lifted a quizzical eyebrow. "I admit to my background. I was an Ubiqutorate operative. And when I left, I took my name as a penance. I left Krischen Raef behind when I deserted."
His onetime friends weren't buying his story, truth or not. Myra's face was anguished as she looked up at him. "But why did you leave?"
Warden's throat worked convulsively. "I left to save my life, to save my soul. I needed to atone for something… something horrid."
Com Wedge let his gaze rest on Warden for a few minutes. "Will you tell us nothing more?"
Anguished green eyes met his. Just when he'd begun to forgive himself, to think he might have made a life again… "No, I cannot. I swore… an oath. I cannot break it. Just tell me, where did you find that file?"
"In an Ubiqutorate computer. I'm afraid that we have to investigate this further. Ward-… Krischen, I am having you placed in the brig, under heavy guard. If I remember your reputation correctly, you had as much of a knack for getting out as you did getting in. Take him away."
Warden cast one last look around the room, eyes brimming with tears. Myra looked ready to cry; Thane was crushed. Wedge remained unreadable. Nathan and S'lverfox looked quite ready to execute him then and there. Defeated for the first time in his life, Warden merely slumped as a guard placed binders on his wrists and led him away.
A gentle humming filled the air within Warden's cell. It was a low, persistent sound, like a fly buzzing around his ears. Warden hated that sound. It was a constant reminder of his predicament. Just for inflicting that sound on him, when he found the persons responsible for setting him up…
With a thud Warden settled back. He'd been over that line of thought again and again. It didn't help at all. Odds were, he wasn't getting out this time. Com Wedge had been true to his word: there was no getting out of this cell without getting shot. Warden leaned back and closed his eyes, humming a tune his mother had once sung to him years ago. The sound of a clearing throat brought his eyes open. A guard stood in front of the cell.
"You got a visitor." The guard motioned someone forward and moved away. Why is it all guards in all prisons sound the same? Warden thought to himself. He raised his head to look at his new guest. It was Adrea. Oh shit, just what I don't need…
"Warden," Adrea stood, fidgeting with her hands. "Is it true what they say?”
"Depends on what they're saying."
"That you're an Imperial spy. That you've been waiting to sell us all out."
"Oh yeah, that's why I spent so much time killing stormtroopers and capturing Imperial ships during the last few months."
"They say it could all be a cover."
"They're stupid. Who the hell is 'they', anyways?"
"Lots of people," Adrea looked him in the eyes, holding his gaze. "Tell me the truth. After all we've been through, I deserve that much."
"You want the whole, ugly truth? All of it?"
"I said so, didn't I?"
"Well then sit down," Warden settled back. He felt an overwhelming desire to tell someone, someone with an open mind that might just forgive him. "It's a long story.
"First off: Yes, I was an agent for the Imperial Ubiqutorate. I spent almost six years as an operative for their Special Ops Directorate. I did a lot of horrible things during that time, things I'm not proud of and will spend my life atoning for. I hated what I was becoming, and my commander, the Czar-General of the Ubiqutorate, transferred me to one of the suppression forces that dot the Galaxy. We were given the task of 'cleansing' a world whose government had made the mistake of telling a Grand Moff to shove off. That planet was called Edrezea. Its native population was near-human, and quite independent, despite their reliance on old superstitions. The Ubiqutorate wanted the suppression carried off without anyone else knowing, so I devised a trick to disrupt communications- one you've seen in action."
Adrea gasped and both her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Warden continued. "Yeah, I 'know' the guy who thought up that tactic, all right. Well, it worked, really well. We landed on planet without a hitch, and began rounding up the government. Of course, the citizens weren't too happy and they put up a fight of their own, but, being a poor planet, the Edrezeans couldn't fight back very well. I ordered the use of stun weapons only, but my commanding officer, Colonel Anniyas, had different ideas. We got into a shouting match, and I was relieved of my command.
"Anniyas wanted me court-martialed, but Czar Collan stepped in on my behalf. He got me released on his bond, and I was told to return to Edrezea to oversee the internment camps." Warden's eyes glazed over in pain, and open disgust and self-loathing filled his voice. "Only, when I got there, Anniyas had turned the internment camps into concentration camps. They were exterminating people by the thousands. I tried to stop it; I went so far as taking a blaster to one of the 'processing plants.' But nothing worked. I was forced to flee again, taking a few Edrezeans with me. We managed to commandeer a transport, and free a few others. All in all, I got maybe five hundred of them out."
"But, you saved them," Adrea interrupted. "Why do you hate yourself so?"
"Because it wasn't enough!" Warden spat the words out like they tasted vile. "I saved five hundred. So what? Five million died, all because I slighted my commanding officer."
"What did you do then?"
"I brought the survivors to a small planet, one where they could hide from the depravations of the Empire. Before I left them, one of the women pressed a necklace into my hands. A small charm hung on it: the figure of a man, with a torch and a sword. She called him a Warden, one of their mythical figures who guarded over them in times of trouble. I guess she thought I was one.
"I needed a new name, I had deserted the Empire, so I took that, along with my old code name as a penance, a constant reminder of what I needed to atone for."
"Who do you think set you up?" Adrea looked him straight in the eyes again, holding his gaze and not letting him look away.
Warden gazed back for a moment. "I have no idea. But I know where to start looking, and who can help me."
"All right," Adrea smiled, a full, charming smile. "Let's get you out of here. Just a second." With that, she darted off. Warden's jaw dropped, gaping. A few moments later, there came several thuds, and then the bars to his cell retracted into the ceiling. "Wha…" was all that came out as he ran for the doors. Adrea joined him and they began jogging towards the flight bays.
"We need my shuttle," said Warden. "I've just kidnapped you, and we're getting out of here." He smiled at the thought. They managed to sneak on board, and Adrea made like she was transporting his shuttle up to his waiting flagship for storage. A weak story, but it seemed to work.
"Where do we set course for?" asked Adrea.
"Trusat system," Warden replied. "There's an old friend there who might just be able to help us.
The lights of the Trusat spaceport lit up the front cockpit of Warden's Tormolian shuttle as it settled down at its assigned landing place. A rush of breath left him in relief. Nothing had occurred on the way, and it appeared that he and Adrea had gotten away clean. Now, he had someone to see.
Warden turned to Adrea with a weary smile. "Think you can hold the fort here for awhile?"
Adrea smiled back. "Sure you don't want me with you?"
He shook his head. "Nah. I can take care of myself. It's a rough area, and my contact doesn't trust too many people."
"Who is he?"
"A slicer, named Crigo." Warden buckled on a blaster pistol and a vibroblade. "He's the best there is."
"What good is he? Do you think he can prove that the file's a forgery?"
"I think he can prove that it was planted recently. He's a master of reconstructing file pathways."
"Be careful."
"Always." Warden grinned and exited the shuttle. He started walking towards the Tavern District with sure, steady steps. Trusat had become rather slummy and run-down. All that really meant to Warden was that the buildings were starting to resemble the tenants. Trusat's red-light district was one of the tougher places in the galaxy. Destitutes from all sorts of species littered the streets. Warden hated the place.
Long strides ate up the empty street. Memory carried him towards Crigo's home, a small apartment above a bar. About two blocks away from his destination, Warden was brought up short. Five very large figures were walking in a straight line towards him. They entered the light, and Warden swore to himself. Four Shivestanen wolfmen, led by a Wookie. A very large Wookie. They spread out around him in a half-circle. The Wookie let out a few guttural growls.
"Sorry," said Warden. "I kind of need my money right now. Come back later?"
They didn't seem to like that response. They stood around him, fingering knives or flexing strong hands. I'm dead. Warden thought. Even with his blaster, he couldn't handle all of them, not four wolfmen and a Wookie. Warden sighed and tensed, ready to go for his gun, when a pair of enraged roars split the air. Two immense shapes bounded out of the shadows, one tackling the Wookie and the other slamming into the two closest Shivestanens. Warden gaped for a moment, then spun on one foot, slamming his heel into the throat of one, dropping it. The second wolfman made a grab for him, which Warden swung under, planting his fists in the creature's ribs. A sick cracking sound accompanied the impact, and the wolfman crumpled, clutching its chest.
Warden turned back to his rescuers, watching in awe as one tossed aside his two wolfmen opponents. They were both Wookies. And they were old friends. "Roelstra? Rinhoel? What the hell?"
The two Wookie brothers let out loud roars of greeting and rushed to embrace Warden, nearly bowling him over in their exuberance. After a few moments, Roelstra, the elder Wookie, growled an interrogative question.
"I'm on my way to see Crigo," Warden replied. "I'm in a jam that I think he can help me out of." At that, Rinhoel growled insistently, and Roelstra added his voice in affirmation. Warden cocked his head to the side for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I could use your help. I need some old friends right about now."
Roelstra and Rinhoel had been part of a band of Wookie raiders Warden had worked with for awhile several years ago. They were brothers, Roelstra the older, and fierce fighters, like all their kind. Roelstra was a cunning pilot, and Rinhoel was a positive genius with machines of all sorts. Their help would be invaluable.
The trio started off down the street. After a couple of minutes, they reached their destination, a bar called The One Eyed Sailor. They hurried upstairs, where Rinhoel knocked on a large door, sending shudders through its frame. A reedy voice replied from within, "Who is it?"
Rinhoel let out a few small roars. "Oh, is that you, Rinhoel? Just a second." The door swished open, revealing a cluttered space filled with computer components. Warden led the way in. Crigo, a small, skinny man with thinning blond hair sat at his machine. His skin was pale, and he had a potbelly brought on by an unhealthy diet. "Hey," he said, "you're not… Warden?"
Warden grinned in genuine affection for the middle-aged slicer. "Been awhile, Crigo." He took the man's hand and settled himself down in a chair. The already small apartment was made much smaller by the presence of the two Wookies, looming in the back.
"At least two years." Crigo leaned back in his chair. "What brings you back here?"
Warden leaned closer, intent. "I need your help, Crigo. The Imperials are framing me, and I need to find out why. I can pay you when it's over, and you know that I'm good for it, dead or alive."
"I know that. And I also know that the three of us wouldn't be here except for you, after Aida pulled out her organization here." Crigo was referring to a time when Warden, Crigo, and the Wookie brothers had worked for the notorious criminal queen Aida Ringe on Trusat. "I'll do what I can. What can you tell me?"
"Not much. My employer only told me that the 'evidence' had been found in an Ubiqutorate computer. I need you to hack their database and find that file."
"We're talking millions of files here. I can use a few backdoors, but that would take days at least. And I'm thinking you don't have days." Crigo took a sip out of a cup. "Anything else you can give me to work on?"
"Try this… search the security databases, and find out what systems were hacked into five days ago and on. That's the day before all this started. Find out where, what files were hacked into and downloaded, and when they were inserted if you can."
Crigo grinned. "That'll take a lot less time, a few hours at least though."
"That's all right." Warden smiled. "Mind if I go bring a friend over here?"
"Sure."
Adrea worked Warden's tense shoulders with her hands, watching in fascination as Crigo worked his magic on the Ubiqutorate computer system. Bredy, the Flagolian who had found the file on Warden, was considered the Band's best slicer, and he had nothing on Crigo. His hands flew across the keys as he cracked backdoors into the Imperial computers, confounding security measures and decrypting as he went. After about five hours, Crigo let out a whoop.
"Hot damn, I've got something!" Crigo spun around in his chair.
"What?" Warden straightened, patting Adrea's hand before moving to stand over Crigo's shoulder.
"See here?" Crigo pointed at the screen. "There was an unauthorized access and file dump pulled on the Ord Mantell database five days ago. It's the only one, and it says the suspected culprits are either the Smuggler's Alliance, or the Rebel Republic." Crigo began to type away, switching to the Ord Mantell database and cutting off his old connection. "Here we are, Ord Mantell. Executive files are too tough for me to decode fast, and so's the password for a download, so we'll keep going. Any idea what to look for?"
Adrea leaned forward. "Look for files that aren't too hard to crack but would still take a little doing for a good slicing program. It's standard procedure for an info dump. What was in the file?"
Warden nodded. "It was a bogus operation detail file."
"Well, that narrows it down quite a lot," Crigo cast a wry glance at Warden, who shrugged an apology. "Ah, here's an interesting bit. Looks like a botched erasure, doesn't it? Lots of incomplete files at the beginning… Hmph. But not random enough, it's a little too structured, as though someone wanted to do a really good job of creating the appearance of an incomplete deletion, just enough to catch the eye of an experienced slicer… Yeah, this is it… What was the name of that file?"
Warden was astonished. "Operation Huntsman."
Crigo continued, half to himself. "Yes, here it is. Let's trace it back a bit… not enough wear on the data, it was inserted into the mainframe very recently, accessed only three times now… Where'd you come from you little bastard? Aha! A file transfer, I'd recognize that Imperial stamp anywhere! Damn! I can't find out where it was from though. It was probably inserted at the source, by a disk then."
Warden was very impressed, and he said as much. "What's more, you've given me my most solid lead to date. Damn!"
"What do we do now, Warden?" Adrea asked.
"We pull up stakes for Ord Mantell. I want to talk to someone." Warden turned to the Wookie brothers. "Roelstra, Rinhoel, I could use your help, but I won't lie. It's going to be very dangerous."
Roelstra just roared back, he and his brother were tired of being on Trusat and they were going to go with Warden, and that was that. Warden smiled, glad for the help. Crigo piped up, "I'm coming too. It's time I had a real adventure, dammit." Warden grinned again.
"Alright, gather everything you want to keep, and we'll take it to our ship. We're going to go get some answers, and hopefully find out who's behind all this."
After landing on Ord Mantell, Warden went straight for the home of an old acquaintance. Tresk was a long-time middleman for one of the sectors larger criminal syndicates, and Warden knew him from his time as a spice smuggler. He had been there when Warden's wife, Shaina, had been killed. Walking through the streets of the city where Shaina had died, Warden felt a melancholy steal over him, and his eyes glistened with tears that he dashed away with a hand.
Warden made his way into Tresk's office through sheer force of personality, convincing the guards to let him in. Once there, he made a few requests for some equipment.
"What is it you want?" Tresk had put on weight and his voice had become gravelly from too much drinking.
"Nothing you can't handle," Warden smiled mischievously. "I need two heavy blaster rifles, some plastic explosive with detonators…"
Sharp gusts of wind blew Warden's coat about him as he observed the Ubiqutorate base. He'd been up on this rooftop for three days, observing comings and goings. He'd noted that the base commander, a colonel, arrived at 0800 every morning and left at 17:30 on the dot. A bold plan began to form in his head.
"Ok, guys, this is going to take crackerjack timing. The colonel's hoverlimo hits this street at 17:45 every day. Roelstra, you'll take out its drives, crippling it. Rinhoel, you waste the chase speeder. I'll take out the driver, the bodyguards, and snag the colonel. Adrea and Crigo will pull up in the cargo speeder, and we'll meet back at the shuttle for a quick exit off-planet. Any questions?" Warden looked at his friends. They looked back, then at each other, and then they all raised their hands. Warden gave a long-suffering sigh.
Traffic was heavy today, noted Trooper Odesl, yawning behind his hand. Nothing was moving in the almost bumper-to-bumper gridlock of the city streets. Odesl was in mid-yawn when the hoverlimo rocked with a loud THWUMP! Red lights began to flash all over his screen, and the guard next to him jerked upright. Both his engines were gone! Odesl looked in his rearview mirrors in time to see the chase speeder getting hosed down with blaster fire. It's an attack! Odesl began to panic.
As well he should. A figure leapt onto the nose of the hoverlimo, twin blaster pistols in his hands. The last thing Odesl ever saw was a figure with white hair pouring blaster fire through the windshield, shattering it, and then the two front occupants.
Warden kept moving, leaping down to the side of the limo. He tried the side door, only to find it locked. His hands dipped into his belt, coming up with a small bit of plastic explosive with a detonator. Attaching it to the door, Warden ducked to the side and set it off, thumbing his blasters to stun. The door swung off with a loud bang, smoke filling the air. Warden swung around, pouring stun blasts into the interior. After a moment, the smoke cleared, and Warden cautiously swung around the side. Two men lay unconscious on the floor. The silvery-haired colonel was at the other end, so Warden had to snag him by the boot and drag him out. With a screech of whining retro-brakes, the cargo speeder pulled up, piloted by Adrea. Crigo yanked the colonel in, followed by Warden. They sped off, headed for the shuttle.
Rinhoel and Roelstra were already at the controls when their three compatriots hustled the colonel aboard. They jetted out of the atmosphere casually, and left the system, all before the Imperials really knew what had happened. Crigo let out an explosive sigh of relief, which made the others laugh. The colonel began to stir, roused by the loud urf-urf laughter of the Wookies. The colonel rose, shaking his head, looking around him in confusion.
"Who are all of you? Where am I?" the colonel shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs. "I demand some answers!"
Warden merely smiled viciously and leaned forward. "You are in no position to demand anything." The colonel started violently upon seeing his captor, recognition dawning on his face.
The Tormolian Shuttle Mendatis' Pride sat still in space, floating serenely in orbit around a small, desolate planet in a small, desolate system. The planet was known as Delgado, and it was a favorite place for pirates and smugglers to maroon victims or unwanted crewers, for the elements were harsh and death was certain to all those on the surface. Adrea had made sure that the colonel, whose name was Garon, knew all this. The Wookie brothers had made sure that Garon was absolutely clear that if he didn't cooperate, he would be left on the planet, and not with all of his limbs intact. They seemed to get a great deal of amusement at the thought of giving Garon his own arm as a club to beat off some of the known predators on the planet's surface.
Warden watched all of this with a smile. Then he leaned forward, cutting everyone off with a gesture. "Now, Colonel," he began in an sickly-sweet tone, "you can avoid this fate quite easily. All you have to do is answer my questions."
"All you'll get is my name and serial number, scum." Colonel Garon was trying to regain some of his composure. Trying being the operative word there. "I demand to know why you've kidnapped me! You will find it most advantageous to release me at once!"
"Oh, I think you suspect why we've taken you, Colonel," Warden smiled, showing teeth. "In fact, you recognized me didn't you? Perhaps from a picture? In a file?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Garon sputtered.
"Sure you do. It was a file, on a disk, that you were ordered to insert into your operation files in the database. I want to know who told you to do it."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Warden arched his eyebrow. "Really?" He gestured to Roelstra, who pinned the Colonel back against the bulkhead. Another gesture brought Rinhoel forward. "Rinhoel, tear off one of his thumbs. The next time he lies, tear off the other one, and so on. Understand?"
Rinhoel nodded and reached for the colonel's left hand. "Wait!" screeched Garon. "I wasn't the one who inserted the disk, I was just given orders on how it was to be done!"
Warden waved Rinhoel off. "But you know what's on it."
Garon nodded, sweat rolling down his face. "It was a bogus file, detailing a fictional mission." Warden gestured for Garon to continue. "It- it was designed to discredit you within the Smuggler's Band! But I didn't think it up! I was ordered to!"
"Who ordered it?" Warden asked harshly. "Was it Tsiogaali?"
"No, it was the Czar!"
"The Czar? Who is the Czar now?"
"General Anniyas," whimpered Garon, eyes on the Wookie looming over him.
"Anniyas…" Warden leaned back. "That fits. Why is he trying so hard to discredit me?"
"I don't know." Warden narrowed his eyes and gestured to Rinhoel. Garon cringed. "I don't! He wants you out of power in the Band! He thinks you're dangerous, he hates you! He hates you more than anyone else I've ever heard him speak of."
"Why?" Warden whispered.
"You nearly cost him his position, you humiliated him. He wants you broken, he's been tracking your movements for years."
"Really?" The question was more to himself than to anyone else. "Where is Anniyas now?"
"Coruscant. The Emperor is moving back there, to the old Palace. The Old Senate Building is being used as Ubiqutorate Central Command."
"Thank you." Warden gestured to Rinhoel and Roelstra, who backed off. He turned to Crigo. "Get all that on tape?"
"Yeah. It's all here."
"Good," Warden turned back. "Rinhoel, set a course for Tarsis, please." The Wookie moved towards the cockpit.
"What now?" asked Adrea.
"You four are going to Nakoma with the colonel, here. You'll deliver him and his testimony over to the Supreme Commander, and clear my name."
"Then why are we going to Tarsis?" Adrea started, then glared at Warden. "You're going after him yourself, aren't you? Dammit, Warden, how can you be so stupid?"
"I have to go, Adrea. No one I care for or work with will be safe until I've smashed my former commander and his institution. I have to cripple them now, while I've got the jump on them."
"But why go alone? You'll need us!"
"You'll just get in my way," Warden said harshly. "I have the training and experience necessary to get in and out. None of you others do. You'd only slow me down." He walked over, putting his arms around her, and kissed her hair. "I need to know you're safe. I can't lose anyone else to Anniyas. He's as mad as they come. And as dangerous."
Adrea buried her face in his chest, holding him tight. She understood, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "You'd better come back to me. I didn't find you just to have you go and do something stupid, like die."
Warden smiled into her hair. "Yes, ma'am."
Tarsis had long been a node of the smuggling trade. It's customs agents were notoriously corruptible, and the Empire, unable to smash the black market, had allowed several places like Tarsis to exist in the hopes of curtailing it. The Corporate Sector Authority, however, was finding that it couldn't maintain the control as tightly as they wished, and so, they were cracking down on smugglers leaving the system. At least, that's what they said on paper. In reality, business continued as usual.
Warden knew he had to be careful: Smugglers' Band members often stopped here in order to throw pursuers off. All around him glasses clinked and drunken roars abounded. The bar was called The Pig and Whistle, and it was a known stop off for gunrunners and other, more nefarious types of smugglers. More than anything, Warden needed a reliable ride to Coruscant. Hiring someone was out of the question; they'd only turn him in at the first opportunity. So Warden found himself scanning patrons, looking for some likely marks that might just have a ship to hijack.
Chill air blew in as the doors opened. Warden glanced up, and then stiffened. A slow grin spread across his face. He couldn't possibly be that lucky… But he was. The Tolini brothers waltzed in. They were three half-human, half-Gammorian brothers, the product of a rather hideous kidnapping that had left there mother the slave of a Gammorian mercenary. The brothers were short, fat, ugly, and had vicious streaks a parsec wide. Most importantly, the two younger brothers were dumber than bantha fodder, and the elder wasn't all that much brighter. The Tolini brothers were notorious gunrunners, and their ship was fearsomely armed and armored. Most recently, they had found employ with the new leader of the Myrkyr operation, Jason O'Shea.
A snort of laughter escaped Warden, one he tried to wrestle down. This was going to be too easy…
The Tolini brothers weaved their way towards their ship, snorting, laughing, and slugging one another. They were none too steady, full of cheap ale and bad food. Warden trailed behind in the shadows, a bag slung over his shoulder, and a makeshift uniform, really just a pilfered hat and jacket, over his clothes. His plan was straightforward, and quite possibly suicidal. It'd been a long time since he'd hijacked a ship.
The brothers had reached their ship, a lumpy Gathorian freighter, called, with a horrendous lack of imagination, Ours. The elder brother, whose name Warden never could remember, hit a key on his belt, and the ramp to the ship began to lower, ponderously. Just as he put his foot on the ramp, Warden stepped into the light.
"Excuse me, gentlebeings," Warden pitched his voice through his nose, and fought a smile.
The three bothers slowly turned on him, curious, but not necessarily irritated, yet. Warden flashed a badge at them (he'd bought it at a children's store). "Corporate Sector Customs. I must inspect your ship."
One of the younger brothers scratched his head. "We already pay off youse guys."
His older brother smacked him on the back of the head to hush him up. "We been inspected, why you need to look again?"
Warden's voice, pitched through his nose, began to tickle his throat, and he coughed to cover it. "Well, I am sorry, but my orders are explicit. I am to inspect your vessel, accompanied by one of you, just to verify that nothing… illegal… has been placed on board."
The three brothers turned and quietly began whispering to each other. Considering their state, the conversation was full of false starts and bouts of hiccuping. Apparently, the two younger brothers were all for just bashing Warden over the head and running away, which made Warden wonder what kind of cargo they actually had. The older brother ended the heated argument by smacking the other two on the head. He turned to Warden, "You come with me. We check ship."
Warden smiled graciously. "Of course, sir." They started up the ramp. At the top, Warden "accidentally" bumped into the ramp controls, raising it. The elder Tolini tried to get him out of the way, to stop the ramp, only they kept getting tangled. "Sorry sorry sorry." Warden kept muttering, right up to the point where he whacked the half-Gammorian unconscious, and tossed him out the door. Quickly, before the other two dimwitted brothers could decide what to do, he ran to the cockpit and began powering up. Soon, he was gone, leaving the three brothers behind, and laughing himself silly.
Czar-General Anniyas of the Imperial Ubiqutorate was in a foul humor. His spies had failed to keep track of Raef after he'd escaped from the Smuggler's Band. Truly, he had expected better from the Band, hoping that they would eliminate Grimm, or provide his agents with the opportunity to do so. Now, Grimm could be anywhere in the Galaxy, planning who knew what. A timid knock sounded at the door to his spacious office. Anniyas hit a key on his desk, and the doors swung open to admit Anniyas' personal aide, Major Kurgan. Anniyas leaned back tiredly. "What is it, Major?"
Kurgan cleared his throat nervously. Anniyas had a long history of killing the messenger who brought him bad news, and whatever creature had brought him. "There has been an… incident…"
"An incident? Of what sort? Where?" Anniyas gestured irritably.
"It was on Ord Mantell." Kurgan's eyes darted around nervously.
"Ord Mantell. What happened?" Anniyas leveled his ice-blue eyes at the major.
"The commander, Colonel Garon, he was kidnapped."
"Kidnapped?" the Czar's voice scraped raw on his aide's ears.
"Yes, sir, by assailants unknown…" Kurgan paused.
The pause did not escape Anniyas' notice. "Assailants unknown? Eyewitnesses?"
"Several agree on the fact that the one assailant who was seen had close-cropped hair. White hair."
Anniyas' eyes glittered. "Indeed?" Anniyas smiled like some sort of hideous reptile, his eyes remaining cold and dead. "Grimm is moving at a faster pace than I would have ever thought. He must have found someone to help him."
Kurgan nodded. "Apparently Intel and Ops didn't do such a good job weeding out his past associates. My money would be on someone from his time with Aida Ringe. He was her best gunman while she was operating on Trusat, and her organization has always been hard to track down."
Anniyas nodded in agreement. "Yes, Major, I believe you are correct. Prepare internal security measures, Major. If I know Grimm, and believe me, I do, he will undoubtedly have secured the information he needs from Garon and drawn the proper conclusions. He will be on his way here, soon."
"Here?" Kurgan gaped in astonishment. "But, sir, that would be suicide for him! He has Garon, why not just clear his name and return to the Smuggler's Band?"
"Oh, Grimm will clear his name with Com Wedge. He'll undoubtedly send whomever is helping him with the Colonel to his beloved commander. But, Major, mark my words, he will come here. It is personal to him, now. He never knew when to let go, when to compartmentalize things and accept them. Grimm will come, and I will be waiting."
Supreme Commander Com Wedge of the Smuggler's Alliance sat in his office, half-heartedly shuffling paperwork into color-coded boxes behind him. His office door chimed, announcing a visitor. "Enter!" he called, without looking up. After a minute, a clearing throat brought his head up. Before him stood his personal aide, Thane Farstorm. Next to Thane stood the young lieutenant Warden Grimm had kidnapped during his escape. Behind her was the most shocking assortment of people Wedge had seen in a long time. Two very large Wookies flanked a man in binders, who wore the black uniform of the Hazatian Empire, his patches and rank insignia indicating he was a colonel in the Ubiqutorate. Slightly to the side stood a very nervous, fat, middle-aged human with balding blond hair.
"What is all this, Thane?" Com Wedge stood up, curious despite the irritation he let slip into his voice.
"Sir," answered Thane, "Lieutenant Ordan and her friends have something to tell you, and I think you should hear them out."
Warden's stolen freighter passed Coruscant's security and landed at the Capitol Spaceport. Before leaving, Warden had had Crigo construct a false ship ID, using his eldest brother Maarken's shipping company as a guise. Perhaps not entirely subtle, but if Anniyas had his men monitoring the spaceports for arrivals, he might just receive the challenge Warden was presenting to him. Securing his blasters, climbing kits, keycode computer, and plastic explosives, Warden left his stolen ship and began the long walk to the center of the city, uncertain of what the future held for him, and whether or not this would be the last sunrise he ever saw.
The guards at the entrance to the Old Senate building made Warden's eyebrows arch. They were new to him. Black armor, in the style of stormtroopers stood out against the white marble behind them. Each worker who entered presented a datacard and was required to submit to a thumb and retina scan.
Familiar with Imperial security measures, Warden was prepared. Two of the items he had asked Tresk for were high-tech spy tools. The first scanned a victim's fingerprints and laid a fine film of bio-wax over his fingertips, leaving the bogus fingerprint patterns. The other performed a similar function on a pair of contact lenses, mimicking eye-color and retinal patterns. When it came his turn, Warden confidently presented his pilfered datacard and submitted to the identity check.
"What's in the bag?" grated the lead guard.
"My tools," Warden quavered, trying to seem impressed by all the big scary stormtrooper-like men.
The commander gestured to a conveyor belt that led through a scanner. "Put your bag down on that and scan it through."
Warden complied hastily. He had anticipated a security measure like this one and had already dismantled his weapons- they looked like tools in their pouches. The ruse worked and Warden was allowed to enter the building and carry out his work. Thankfully, his work orders were for the transport site on the roof- it was in disrepair, and relatively unguarded. His job was supposedly installing security cameras for permanent use. As usual, Warden's luck was holding out. It had taken Crigo hours to plant that work order in, and they had chosen the worker to be impersonated at the same time.
Warden crouched on the roof, ignoring the chill air. Quickly, he divested himself of his disguise, shedding his fake whiskers and make-up. With practiced efficiency, he reassembled his blasters, and girded on his two climbing kits and a tool belt, with plastic explosives and two thermal detonators hidden. Securing his rappelling cable, Warden descended rapidly, having scouted out his destination early that morning.
Anniyas sat at his desk, going over datacards and busily typing notes into his personal database. The autocratic Czar was not about to let a threat like ex-Major Krischen Raef disrupt his daily schedule. Appearances had to be maintained, for his peace of mind. Briefly, Anniyas wondered when Warden would make his move. It was expected any day now. Major Kurgan anticipated an internal breach, and Anniyas concurred. That had been Raef's favored expertise during his time as agent Grimm, and so the Ubiqutorate took measures accordingly. An external assault was almost ludicrous to contemplate: Any ships or sleds would be challenged long before they reached the Old Senate Building.
Anniyas' head came up at a soft sound from the window. Looking over his shoulder, the aging general gave a start at the sight of a maintenance worker, his collar turned up and hat pulled low to keep out the chill winds, secured by a rope, placing a new coat of sealant around one of his new plate windows. Grumbling a bit at the disturbance, Anniyas swung back to his desk, briefly wondering why the man didn't use a maintenance sled so as not to disturb anyone. A few seconds later, his head came up, startled. Why is he using a rope?
Mouth opening wide, Anniyas spun around in time to see the man push off the glass, swinging out like a pendulum. One of his hands held a slender spool of wire attached to a rod. No! screamed Anniyas' mind. Fortunately, he had the good sense to throw himself to the side as the glassteel window shattered, propelled out of its frame by high-quality plastic explosive. The figure swung through the hole, releasing his cable and landing, cat-like, on his feet. Even as Anniyas straightened, one hand straining to reach the release button on his doors, a blaster bolt plowed into the table, a centimeter from his outstretched fingers.
Anniyas stopped moving, eyes wide as he gaped at the figure who was removing his hat and cold-air mask. Sharp green eyes pierced him like a vornskr's claws. Anniyas recovered his composure and stood, hoping he could by enough time for the Major and his guards to crack open the doors and eliminate his old junior officer. "Well, Krischen, I must say, that was a rather more dramatic entrance than your usual."
Warden narrowed his eyes and gestured Anniyas away from his desk. "You're slipping, colonel. General Collan never would have let me get this close."
"I am not my predecessor. You certainly were a lot more handsome without that scar and white hair, Krischen. A pity that idiot Helsdager and his pet Sith were so careless."
Warden smiled. "Yes, well, Jinn has paid for his cruelty with his life, and Helsdager has much to answer for, but neither of them is the issue. You are."
Anniyas sat in one of his guest chairs, crossing his arms arrogantly. "Me? But why?"
"No games, Anniyas," Warden glared at the older man. "Why are you trying to ruin me?"
"Ruin you?" Anniyas gestured expansively, "dear boy, I am trying to destroy you. Or, barring that, cripple you so badly you couldn't pose a threat to an Ewok with a slingshot, let alone to me. You see, I hate you."
"That doesn't play with me, Anniyas. Why now? Why wait seven years? With the resources at your command, you could have found me if you had made a big effort to. And I would have been unimportant to anyone until a year ago. So, there's something else. There's always an angle with you."
Anniyas applauded sardonically, his laughter tinged with mockery. "Bravo, major. You are quite right. If I had really wanted to, I could have had you eliminated earlier. If you hadn't become so prominent in the Smuggler's Alliance, I probably wouldn't have bothered."
"So the question remains. Why now?" Warden moved over to Anniyas' computer. He saw the Czar shift nervously, just a fidget really, and it told Warden volumes. "Something to do with the Band?"
"Yes. The Emperor needs to consolidate power in the outer rim territories, and he cannot do so as long as substantial resistance opposes him. Of the three governments posing a threat to us, the Smuggler's Alliance is the largest, and the most significant. The Rebel Republic is on its knees, and the Emperor wishes to muster all his might to crush them. But that cannot be done unless the Smugglers cease to be a threat for a brief period of time. So, what a better target than you?"
"Why me? Eliminating Supreme Commander Com Wedge would throw the Band into the kind of paralysis you need." Warden glared at Anniyas.
"Perhaps," he responded. "or it could have galvanized the Alliance into exactly the kind of direct action the Empire wishes to prevent. Instead, we eliminate one of its heroes, Warden Grimm, governor and dedicated protector of Bakura. My old second in command, Major Krischen Raef, a man who had betrayed and humiliated me! With Bakura sector destabilized, the Alliance would be thrown into disarray and suspicion would paralyze them long enough for us to crush the Republic." Sweat ran down Anniyas' brow.
Warden smiled mirthlessly at him again. "Closer, perhaps even a half-truth. But that's an awful lot to ride on a few suppositions about my standing in the Band and the attitude of a whole governing body. You wanted Bakura in particular. Why?"
"I've told you!" Anniyas was watching Warden's hand as it hovered over the computer. Warden followed his gaze and smiled.
"I assume the old operating system is still in service?" Without waiting for a reply, Warden hit a few keys and a search menu appeared. Warden typed in BAKURA and hit the search key. An encrypted file popped up. "Give me the password."
"No." The large double doors to the office shuddered under some sort of pressure. Muffled voices could be heard outside. "Surrender, Krischen. It's the only way of getting out of here alive." Warden gave no response. Instead, he unhooked a chippy lead from the lockbreaker computer that was strapped to his arm, and plugged it into the computer, downloading all the Bakura files in the directory. Anniyas moved forward, hands clenching and unclenching.
"I really wouldn't do that," said Warden, as the doors shuddered again. A green light flashed on his arm, letting him know that the transfer was complete. Warden unhooked the chippy and smiled. "Well, our business is just about concluded, Anniyas."
A hissing sound came from the direction of the door, where smoke became apparent, followed by the acrid smell of molten metal. Anniyas moved to the side as fast as he could, but not faster than Warden was. A blaster bolt clipped Anniyas in the thigh, sending him to the ground. Warden backed up to the window he had come through, looking over his shoulder- the cable was gone. A humming indicated a repulsor sled just above, waiting for some signal, no doubt. Warden holstered his blaster and stuck both hands in his pockets.
The doors crashed open, narrowly missing Anniyas. A black-uniformed man, Major Kurgan, followed by a number of black-armored stormtroopers filled the room. "Krischen Raef!" boomed Major Kurgan. "You are under arrest!" Anniyas was scrabbling to stand with the help of another black-suited officer. Warden smiled. "This is your final warning, Raef!"
Warden looked Kurgan in the eyes. "Stop calling me that. My name is Warden." His gaze met Anniyas', and a wicked light gleamed in emerald green eyes to match that in the Czar's icy blue eyes. Warden withdrew his hands from his pockets. Each one held a high-powered thermal detonator, and they were armed. Warden grinned from ear to ear as the Imperials backed up a pace or two. "Endgame, Anniyas. I win!"
With that, Warden flung himself out the window, tossing the detonators into the crowd of troopers. Air rushed past him as he plummeted towards the ground, and the repulsor sled darted after him, just in time to be caught be the massive eruption of steel and flame that engulfed the entire Executive floor of Ubiqutorate Central Command. Calmly, Warden fired his second climbing kit into the wall, and swiftly rappelled to the ground, gunning down stunned guards and making for the spaceport like a bat out of hell.
Three days later, the Gathorian freighter Ours exited hyperspace and slowly made its way towards Nakoma. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Warden reached out and triggered the interplanetary comlink. "Nakoma Control, this is Warden Grimm. Please respond."
A burst of static, and then: "This is Nakoma Control, over." Adrea's voice.
Warden sighed in relief, "Permission to land, Nakoma?"
A smile filled Adrea's voice. "Permission granted to land at Executive landing pad 001, over. Welcome back, Governor Grimm."
Warden leaned back and smiled, dashing the tears from his eyes with one hand, he guided the freighter towards the planet's surface.
