ALDERAAN QUEEN
Corellian YT-2400 Light Freighter
"Now THIS is a damn fool, idealistic crusade!"
Flipping through a series of dials and switches, the pubescent Anzat ran through the pre-jump checklist as he shuffled about the side-saddled cockpit of the uniquely Corellian freighter. The hold was packed with medical supplies, which was legitimate. Which wasn't the real issue. That would have to be the weapons, stowed in the ship's three smuggling compartments.
It wasn't enough that the Republic was fighting a losing war against the Sith... now they had to go and get wrapped up in some kind of half-arsed
insurgency.
"Swore I'd never get mixed up with the Republic again..." the boy muttered. So why was he here? The answer to that was simple. Because [member="Corvus Raaf"] had asked. And when Corvus Raaf asked, it just happened.
One day, years from now, when the galaxy discovered that the woman was secretly the Dark Lord of the Sith, they'd look back on days like this and realized she'd been Mind Tricking them the whole time.
"Bee-Four," the boy said, glancing down as a blue accented BB unit rolled down the short corridor to the cockpit.
"Load up the old Republic ID codes."
First thing he needed to get rid of were the Techno Union tags on the ship's subspace IFF. As a Jedi living in One Sith space, in the Corellian System, the Techno Union affiliation was how he normally skirted around the regular patrols. Stayed off the radar. But for this kind of jackass stunt? He couldn't allow the Techno Union to look as though it had any part in this. He was just a business man on a personal trip to Iridonia.
...with a cargo hold full of bacta, and the walls full of guns.
...and
a Sith ton of Republic
n'er-do-wells floating around like a bunch of damn nerf herders.
As the boy finished loading the last of the cartographic data into the navi-computer, the BB unit came rolling back. The droid made a low, whistling series of chirps.
"What?" As the droid answered in a muted symphony of synthetized sounds, the boy's brow furrowed. They'd dumped the Republic codes from the main computer.
"Well..." Brilliant. Just
fething brilliant.
"...load up the Coalition codes, then. We've still got those, don't we?"
...and pray Coci never finds out.
"This is [member="Rose Blade"], commander of the medical corps. All ships please report in before we jump."
As the announcement over the open comlink stole the boy's attention, the droid chirped and rolled away to input the new codec. Snatching the headset from off the back of the pilot's chair, the teenage Jedi dropped into the seat. Adjusting the ear piece and microphone into position, he keyed the link and answered,
"Alderaan Queen, standing by."
Jedi gun-running under the
false flag of bringing medical aid. In the Old Republic, that had been a serious
war crime. Strange how one man's criminal so quickly became another man's hero.
Did
ANYBODY remember when they were guardians of
peace and
justice?
No? Honestly, Sor-Jan didn't either.
Settling into the now familiar feel of the Queen's cockpit, the boy rested one hand on the hyperdrive controls as he awaited the signal to jump. He'd extended an offer for his padawans to join him. Yes,
padawans, as in plural. Another strange dynamic of the times it seemed. And they were a pair, too. One a Loth-rat, and the other a mystery wrapped up in an enigma.
If either of them had even half the sense he thought they had, they wouldn't be on board.
...he was really way,
way too old for this sort of thing.
[member="Lilli Sinopi"] | [member="Noriko Ike"]
