Please note that all standard disclaimers apply.
A Smuggler's Tale
by Kyle Marvis
Part One
"No! The hydrosystem wire does not go in the reflective-solar socket, it goes in the
hydrosystem socket!” Drake barked to his Twi’lek copilot, Sist.
“Mi saru day ti con gresa weir tis con hidrosost weir!” Sist shouted back indignantly in Twi'lek.
“Yes! The hydrosystem wire is green!”
Sist yelled an almost inaudible explanation above the sound of the laser fire that
rocked the ship, a Starfield ZH-25 Questor, that Drake had named the Tibanna Flame.
“No!” Drake snapped loudly in reply, exasperated. “I did not say that the green wire
goes in the yellow socket. I said that it goes in the black socket, the hydrosystem
socket. Sist, how can you confuse black and yellow?”
“Ik nod dok. Saru day—”
“Sist, you must have confused it. But can you please shut up and let me fly the ship?!
We’re getting some pretty heavy fire power from those patrol crafts.”
As if to confirm Drake’s comment, another round of laser fire pounded into the hull,
knocking the pilot against the left side of the cockpit. A stab of pain shot through
Drake’s shoulder, but he clamped his teeth together and flew stubbornly ahead,
resisting the urge to give in. If he and Sist were going to get out of this alive, then he
was going to have to concentrate on his flying.
Under his breath, Drake muttered, “I knew I should have fixed that damn hyperdrive
before we left for Tarindan.” Then he shouted more audibly, “Sist, get up here and
fly while I do the handy work.”
There was the sound of running feet, then a small Twi’lek male appeared behind
Drake. Sist was relatively thin for his species, and the clothing that he now wore
seemed to hang off his skinny frame. However, frequent exercise kept Sist in top
condition, and he was a very apt fighter.
“Here Sist, take over the controls. I’ll see what I can do with the hyperdrive.”
Sist nodded. He was no stranger to flying, and could handle the ship almost as well as
Drake could. Drake took off out of the cockpit as Sist focused on the hard task ahead.
Sist glanced out the side viewport at the patrol crafts. Two Cloakshape fighters and a Z-95 Headhunter were flying erratically around what was obviously the lead patrol, a Mon Calamari ZL-Modified Light Freighter.
A crackle of static issued from the headpiece, and Sist flinched as the piercing sound
rocketed his eardrum. The static cleared and a calm voice said: “Detour from your
present course, and proceed to the coordinates we gave you. I repeat, detour from
your present course or we won’t hesitate to destroy you.”
“Wait,” Sist reasoned in a clear Basic. “We were never given any coordinates. We
are just trying to land to get our hyperdrive fixed—"
“Refrain from talking. I repeat, we will not hesitate to destroy you. Follow the
coordinates given,” the voice replied to Sist’s plea.
“Drake!” Sist shouted, once again in Basic, “we’re gunna have trouble. Did the patrol
craft give you coordinates?”
“No! They didn’t,” came Drake’s reply.
Any further conversation was ceased as a round of powerful laser fire pounded
against the ship. Sist hoped against hope that the deflector shields would hold up
under the fire. He also hoped that the smuggled spice aboard the ship would not be
found when they landed, because it was quite obvious that they would have land.
Sist spoke into the headpiece: “We will proceed to land, if you could provide the
coordinates again.”
No response came from the patrol craft for a tense moment, then the calm voice broke
the static once more. “The coordinates for your landing are Docking Bay 31, at the
point 0700. Proceed to land.”
Drake’s smuggler ship, the Tibanna Flame, progressed to Docking Bay 31 and
landed without any further problems. Sist, who had been joined by Drake in the
landing process, now expressed his concerns.
“I wonder why we couldn’t immediately land. We never have problems like that
on other landings.”
Drake nodded, deep in thought. “I’m a little worried about that. But I guess we’ll
soon find out what their problem is.”
And find out they did. Just as Drake and Sist were about to lower the ramp to leave
the ship, a group of troops burst into the Docking Bay and began shooting erratically
at the Tibanna Flame.
Drake and Sist looked at each other in surprise. Then Drake commented grimly, “I
don’t like the look of this.”
To be continued . . .
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