Chapter Nine

Arcc Nedeen turned slowly as he sensed the presence of the Grand Moff. He was standing by a huge window in the Moff’s meeting room and had been watching the curvature of Junduk rotate slowly below him, watching as the terminator shadow of the light and dark side of the planet gave balance to the world, an equal share of the surface, an apparent bargain struck by the brightness of the sun and the darkness of the shadows. His gaze had lingered longest on the dark.

Grand Moff Galgen entered at a brisk pace. Arcc’s eyes narrowed under his hood as he observed the other figure accompanying the Imperial. He was obviously a less that savoury individual, dressed in cleaned armour that was covered by rough sandy-coloured robes. He also wore a close helmet that was nothing but a dome on his shoulders, with two long mandibles down the front of his chestpiece that gave the helmet an insectoid appearance. The visor was polarised so that none could see in.

“This is Queed,” Galgen said, motioning to the new arrival, “the bounty hunter I sometimes hire. He has bought the payment Komag requested to me.”

Queed nodded to Arcc and said nothing but Arcc ignored him and focused his attention on the Grand Moff.

“Why could he not take the cargo?” he asked. Before Galgen could answer Queed interjected, displeased at being treated as the third party.

“I have split my ties with Komag with less than acrimonious results. It would be dangerous.”

“Anyway,” Galgen said, “there is a ship on its way here now, so lets get this over with. Queed, fetch the cargo. Take it to the shuttle bay.”

The bounty hunter nodded to the Grand Moff and allowed his stare to linger for a second or two before he turned and exited the room.

“I wish to see the cargo,” Arcc said, “I need to be sure it is enough to satisfy the Hutt.”

“Of course, of course,” Galgen said and then his voice lowered and he became more serious. “Are you sure this payment will be enough stop the Komag problem? I don’t want him coming back and biting me at a later date.”

Arcc lifted his head so that his black eyes showed, appearing like empty sockets.

“Let me see the cargo and I will make sure. After this, the Hutt will no longer be a problem.”

The shuttle hangar was sparsely occupied at the Grand Moff’s request. He didn’t want too many of the personnel who usually manned this section of the Star Destroyer watching what was about to take place and spreading unwanted rumours about the ship that was, at this moment, docking.

The whole area was pristine, with wide, tall walls covered in support ribbing and powerful lighting and several other small vessels docked around the landing grid. Above were TIE fighters, racked in rows over the ceiling, hanging by their support cradles and ready for immediate launch. Galgen stood by the main doors to the hangar with Lieutenant Terrov, who had bought four specially selected Stormtroopers with him. They stood to attention, white armour glaring brightly in the light, helmets raised slightly as they maintained their official position in the presence of their Grand Moff.

The vessel that was raising up from the docking bay entrance, a huge force-field protected hole in the wall of the hangar, was a well-kept light freighter of Correllian design with a circular hull that terminated with two forward extensions. The cockpit was situated at the top, near the forward section of the ship, and its oversized cargo area seemed to grow bulbously from the upper rear. Landing legs extended and the vessel slowly touched down.

With a swish of his robes Arcc Nedeen walked through the doors, followed by Queed and two other Stormtroopers who were pulling a large crate on a hovering cargosled behind them. The black crate was well sealed and exactly symmetrical, one meter by one meter. It was almost featureless and seemed to soak up the light.

Galgen turned to Arcc as he came up beside him.

“Did you check the cargo?” he asked.

“Yes,” Arcc replied. “It was more than enough to satisfy the Hutt’s greed.”

“Good. Lets get this done and out of the way. Terrov, when the boarding ramp on that vessel lowers take the crate and give it straight to the pilot. I don’t want them here longer than necessary.”

As the starship settled the ramp started to lower and Terrov immediately grabbed the cargosled’s handle. He motioned for two Stormtroopers to accompany him and he approached the ship under the Grand Moff’s close scrutiny.

Brey Yard and Skeet Jonas slowly walked down the ramp, casting furtive glances about the immaculately clean docking bay. Skeet was relieved that the place wasn’t crawling with Imperials but concerned by the speed the officer was approaching them at. He seemed very determined.

“I don’t like this,” Skeet said.

“I’ve been saying that all the way up here,” Brey said out of the side of his mouth.

Skeet scratched the back of his neck as he felt something tingling there. He looked up, remembering the feeling as the same one he had when he had first seen Emag Retsam. As the officer completed the short walk to the Happy Contriver his eyes settled on the group of people at the door.

The first figure he looked at was the tall being in the dark blue robes. He felt a chill run through his chest, as if something had gripped his heart and squeezed it lightly, allowing him the discomfort but not the immediate danger. As if sensing his scrutiny, Arcc Nedeen looked up.

He could feel it. This human on the ramp. He could feel his power. The Force seemed to leak from this being and sweep across the bay like a magnet. It wasn’t powerful or strong, but it was definitely there. And it felt raw. Unmanaged.

Untrained.

At last, Arcc thought, his mind whirling and his fists clenched in triumph. At last!

Skeet looked away, trying to relieve that feeling of coldness.

“Are you the couriers?” the officer, Lieutenant Terrov, demanded.

“Yes... yes, we are,” Skeet said, regaining his composure and returning the Imperials stare. “I’m Skeet Jonas...”

Brey interjected.

“We’ve just come for the cargo. I’ll take it on board and we’ll just get out of here.”

Terrov nodded.

“That would be for the best. This crate is to be delivered directly to Komag. It has been sealed so don’t even consider opening it.”

Brey nodded. He walked back up the ramp, saying,

“Put it on the rear cargo lifter,” and receding into the vessel to activate the relevant system. “Come on,” he called to Skeet.

As Terrov pulled the sled towards the rear of the ship Skeet gave one last look at the blue-robed figure and felt that same sense of dread. He felt as though the hidden face was scrutinising him intently, but not with his eyes! He shook the feeling and started to turn his gaze away.

His eyes passed over an old man who was dressed as an Imperial of some importance. His gaze rested on him briefly, but as he started to turn away he felt compelled to look again. The man wasn’t looking at him, he seemed more intent on watching the proceedings at the rear of the starship as the cargo lifter lowered. He was able however, to see the features of the man in full view.

Whatever fear he had felt when he had looked at the figure in the robes was immediately quashed. The man standing there was known to him, his face seemed to have hardly changed, the set of his jaw, the stern glare in his eyes.

No.

The man looked up at Skeet.

It can’t be.

The man looked at him with confusion, obviously a little disturbed by Skeet’s lingering gaze. Skeet snapped his eyes away and carried on walking up the ramp on legs that felt incredibly weak.

Had he recognised him? After all these years?

He pressed the stud on the wall that activated both the ship’s ramp and inner hatch and both portals began to close. He almost stumbled into the cockpit as he heard the clang of the cargolift as it sealed and then Brey’s quick footsteps back up to the cockpit.

“Let’s get out of here,” Brey said as he threw himself into the pilot’s chair. He stared flicking switches and grabbed the steering handles, beginning the sequence that would start their hasty retreat from the destroyer.

As the Happy Contriver started to manoeuvre out of the hangar, Brey sighed heavily.

“That’s that. Lets get this stuff dumped onto Komag’s lap and forget this thing ever happened. As soon as I’m done I’m blasting out of this system. What were you thinking of, telling that Imperial you’re name... Skeet, what’s wrong?” He had turned his gaze on his friend’s silence and saw Skeet, eyes glazed and staring out of the cockpit window, leaning back in his seat as if fatigued. “You look like you’ve seen a wraith.”

Skeet licked his lips, the sudden dryness in his throat allowing him to do nought but whisper.

“I think I just did.”

Arcc Nedeen watched the vessel retreat from the bay, the tremor in the Force he felt in the human’s presence diminishing with it. His grin, that permanent fixture on his long face, seemed to widen.

My search is over, he thought, turning to follow the others as they exited the hangar.

A student at last.