Chapter Five: A Better Mousetrap

Chapter Five

"A Better Mousetrap"

*Dignitaries’ quarters, MC-90 Hawkseye*

         “Is that it, Max?” Sia asked as the holoprojector shut down.

         “For now; any questions, just ask them. Most go through the Imperial Naval Academy for two years to learn everything I tried to teach you in thirty minutes,” Max shrugged.

         “So then what else needs covering before we take a break for dinner?” Sia asked.

         “No time for dinner; I ordered something to get here in…” Mils looked down at his watch, “fifteen minutes. We need to figure out how we’ll become Imperials, and, more importantly, how the rest of us will end up on the Vengeance and not in some other fleet.”

         “Let’s start with you then, Mils. What do you plan to fly?” Sharliss asked.

         “I don’t think I want a TIE. Besides, I can’t exactly say I’m an Imperial already,” Mils said. “I mean…yeah.” He used his hand to lift the fur on the other forearm. “Not human.”

         "So you’ll be an ex-smuggler. Plenty of those floating around, we just invent some reason you’d want to fight for the Empire. As long as they let you touch the controls of something you’ll get picked up,” Max said.

         “Max, what about you?” Sia asked.

         “Let’s stick with former Imperial. I’d hate for them to do a background check to find out who I really am. Hopefully if I come with some good paperwork they might not worry too much in the chaos of the post-Endor Empire,” Max said with a slight laugh.

         Sharliss added “I can forge what you need, but…”

         “But we might want to hire a slicer to put it in the system. No offense,” Mils grinned.

         “None taken.” She didn’t return it.

         “What about you Sharliss?” Max asked.

         “Well, coming in as a maintenance technician…no need to mess with the Imperial Holonet for me. Just have me as a recent recruit from Colondu. I’ll forge up a set of transfer orders from some tech school to the Vengeance. Hopefully if I just show up they’ll figure it a glitch and assign me to the maintenance squadron.” Hopefully…

         “Well then, sure sounds easy, doesn’t it?” Sia said as he shook his head.

         “What’s next? Uniforms? Paperwork? Transportation?” Mils asks.

         “Leave the uniforms to me; the vice admiral uniform might be tricky, but I like a good challenge,” Max smirked.

         “Let’s keep me mid-rank; I’ll let them promote me onboard. I’ll come along as an operations officer for starfighters from another fleet…make them think I got some Imperial combat background,” Sia said.

         “Sounds like you remember a little something from my briefing,” Max smiled.

         “More like I spent a few months under Waugh’s guard, including a few stops on the Vengeance,” Sia replied with a sigh.

         “I’ll handle the hardcopy paperwork and forward electronic copies to our slicer; I just gotta know the details for everyone.” Sharliss said as she pulled out a piece of paper and pencil.

         “You can use the terminal there Shar…oh right,” Mils said with a little zing to his voice.

         “Just remember Mils, if they ask you to pilot a landing craft, just tell them you’re allergic to the ground,” Sharliss shot back.

         “Okay, that’s enough! How about transportation?” Max asked.

         “Well, Mils can trade the Courier in for something else, land at Palostir Harbor and walk right up to the recruiter. Be cocky…tell him you’re the best pilot around and then just show him it’s true.” Sia said as he turned towards Mils. “The rest of us—get paperwork, sneak into Palostir and board the first shuttle to the Vengeance, but let’s use at least two separate shuttles…no need to give them something to work off of,” Sia said as he shut his eyes and put his forehead into his hand. It was going to be a long day and this was just the start of it.

         A knock came at the door as he looked back up. “Must be dinner. Everyone’s got something to do, so let’s get back together once we eat and get that started. Try to work in a make-over if you have the time, but keep it on the down low and make nothing of it; we won’t even let Striker know when we leave.” Sia said as he walked to get the dinner cart from the ensign at the door. I can’t believe we’re really going to do this.

*Dignitaries’ quarters, MC-90 Hawkseye*

         Sia sat in the conference room alone. He had one dossier on Moff Waugh and one on Admiral Talon. He read through them for the fourth time, in case he had missed anything.

         He picked up the brief on Justin Dagna. There was nothing worth noting there; probably information from Sharliss’ debrief. Sia had never given one, so there was nothing on Kat. Perhaps I should change that, but no one else should need to worry about her.

         “Not too much of interest in that one, Sia,” Sharliss startled him from behind. He had heard her come in, but had still been too engrossed in thought.

         “My master once told me that you must know your enemy before yourself. I never did understand what he meant. I guess he never knew that the Emperor he fought to protect would be his enemy in the end,” Sia responded, still looking down at the brief.

         There were some things Sharliss knew she would never understand about Sia. “Well, check out my new look!” Changing the subject was always the best way to deal with such a situation.

         Sia looked up with a look of shock. “Oh….wow!” He was speechless for a moment; Sharliss had cut and dyed her hair. It had previously reached the small of her back, and now was cropped at the shoulders. She was wearing an outfit which was a tad revealing, but not overly so. Her eyes had gone from a dull green to bright blue; they managed to draw most the attention to her face. I guess Sharliss can be attractive if she actually takes that jacket off, and the blond hair doesn’t hurt.

         “Yeah…it doesn’t feel right without my jacket,” Sharliss grinned. “I think I’ll use the name Callisto Novarr; thought of it while I was getting my hair done and it just sort of stuck.”

         “Callisto; hadn’t even thought about a name. How about Riko Xarran?” Sia asked with a shrug.

         “Sure, that works…you don’t look like a Riko though. So, you work anything out?” she asked as she picked up the dossiers. Thumbing through them, she pretended she hadn’t read them six times each already.

         “Not much; trying to work out the operations officer job in my head. A lot to know, just trying to get it all sorted out.”

         The door opened and Mils walked in. He was still a Farghul, of course, but his fur was black and it had a sheen to it that made it seem almost reddish in this light. You could say they had groomed him, because the fur around his face had been trimmed so that he really looked like a completely different individual, something the others couldn’t exactly do without surgery. “Impressive,” he said when he saw Sharliss. “We won’t even have to worry about avoiding Striker when we leave. I just hope he doesn’t kill us as they board the Vengeance.”

         “Not too bad yourself Mils; I really like the color,” Sharliss said with a wink.

         “Yeah, I might see about getting it again once we get back. The lady Farghuls would be all over this,” Mils said with a big smile. Sharliss just groaned.

         “Oh, I suppose I should introduce you. Mils, this is Callisto Novarr; Callisto, this is…you thought up a new name yet?” Sia asked as he looked over at Mils.

         “Ummm…how about Slim Pickens?” Mils said with a smile.

         “Mils, that’s just your nickname backwards and as I told you back when we were smuggling—and I’ll tell you again now—no!” Sharliss said, unamused.

         “Ahhh, come on!”

         “Slim is fine for now; we’ll deal with it later,” Sia said, not wanting to venture into this evident minefield.

         Mils was just sitting down next to Sia to read through a document or two when Max strode in. It was Max only in spirit, of course. He had a completely new body. The recently buzz-cut brown hair was now black and brought into a topknot. The rugged good looks were now covered with a scar from the bridge of his nose down to the end of his jawbone on his right cheek. His eyes were blood red; almost unnaturally so. Everything about him pointed to shady bounty hunter; the empire would give anything for his service about now. He even carried a vibrolance, which everyone decided against asking about.

         “Damn, Sharliss, you clean up well,” Max said with a huge grin as he walked in.

         “You know what they say Max; a little leg goes a long ways,” Sia said with a smile as he looked up at Sharliss, who was completely embarrassed and pissed at the same time.

         “Guys! Cut it out!” Sharliss demanded, and Mils couldn’t help but laugh. Not sure how I ever forget that I’m stuck with a group of guys.

         “Sorry Shar,” Sia said as he tried his best to contain a laugh.

         “Now that we have that taken care of, we have some details to flesh out,” Max said as Sia and Mils finished their laughing, much to the chagrin of Sharliss.

         “Shall we take care of yours first Max?” Mils asked as he pulled up his data terminal.

         “Sure. I was figuring I’d go spec ops; that is my—“

         “Bad idea Max,” Sia said with a look of disappointment on his face.

         “I’d have to agree with him. It wasn’t but four years ago you commanded those exact same guys. I worry that they’ll recognize your command style, which could have bad consequences,” Sharliss chipped in. Well, that and…

         “What do you guys suggest, then?” Max asked with an air of annoyance.

         “Squad commander, no doubt you’d make a good one. Have your record show a battlefield commission; as soon as they see you in action they’ll believe it and give you instant respect,” Mils said as he looked over at Max, trying to gauge his response.

         “A good entrance spot, but not someplace where I can go far in the next few months,” Max said with a shrug.

         “That’s not what we need you to do, Max,” Sharliss said with a questioning look. “We need you to be ingrained within the stormtrooper contingent. We need to know of anything going on—what their protocols are, where they store weapons, what they ate for breakfast. We don’t need you making a name for yourself; we need you to spy.”

         Max considered her tone for a moment and everyone waited for his response. I suppose she is just being herself and overly cautious. “If that’s what you guys want me to do, then consider it done. I’ll be there,” Max said with nod towards Sharliss after he looked at the other two.

         Tension lingered in the air when Sia-Lan finally shattered the silence, “So a battlefield-commissioned captain? Where from? Where did you get your commission? Details?”

         “Someplace that recently saw combat…” Max thought aloud.

         “How about a stormtrooper with the attack on Hoth? Stormed a rebel turret solo…throw in a medal or two on the record for the battle. Squad commander got shot up by a Rebel, and they promoted you on the spot.” Sharliss was completely thinking this up on the fly. “You further led your squadron, who was assigned to the second Death Star, during the attack on Endor. You left in a landing craft to replace a commander on the ground. Your squad was left on the Death Star, so of course they died during the battle. You’re left without a squad, hell…you’re left without a sector, hence you request transfer and galactic command sends you to the Vengeance. Certainly they’ll have a need for a squadron commander,” Sharliss finally looked up.

         Everyone sat there stunned for a moment; it was perfect.

         “Wow, do me next Shar,” Sia said with a laugh from everyone. At least it managed to lighten the mood of the room.

         “Okay, so any loose ends?" Mils asked, looking around at everyone.

         “A few, but that’s a good start, let’s move on to you Mils,” Max responded.

*Private chamber 12-41, MC-90 Hawkseye*

         They’d decided to take a break for the night, though a short one. After all, there’d be plenty of time to sleep when they went on their way.

         Sharliss closed the door to her room, unhooking her holster and laying it atop her table before crashing into her chair. Reconsidering, she stood, walked to the bar and got a drink. Then crashed in her chair. Priorities.

         Her datapad rested on the table before her, the screen blank. Why was she having such a hard time getting into this mission? Even with the nearly-suicidal plan they’d thought up, she’d done worse before. Kuat…yeah. Kuat. She’d been telling herself that word for years now whenever she felt afraid.

         Was it Sia and Max? I never really learned why they stopped, did I? She still remembered what had taken place on Corellia VI. She remembered how close to death she and Mils had come—at the hands of their once and present friends. Hopefully friends. They’d been away for years. What if they’d changed their minds again?

         After all, they’d never really talked about what happened during that time. She still didn’t know what they thought of how she and Mils had run when they’d stayed. She’d been the bait, and Sia’d been caught in the trap. Kat had taken him out – with some help from him. Justin. Sharliss still couldn’t say that name without growling.

         No, she didn’t know what Sia and Max had thought—or did now. They’d come to rescue her, after all, after the debacle on Kuat. And she’d escaped because of them, along with Mils. Except that to do so, they’d left those two behind. Sia had been down, she recalled. Down and with a lightsaber at his throat. Max had chosen that moment to charge…right at Justin, with his saber raised to strike. Sharliss hadn’t been able to watch that strike fall. She’d turned and ran, Mils with her. And they’d blasted off that rock, knowing that they’d left the others to die. Not that we had much choice. Damn you, Max. Damn you for charging in.

         If she had been them, she’d have wanted them to flee. Or so it was easy to think. Honestly, she didn’t know. Once she’d found out it was a trap, she’d still wanted them to come and get her out of it. That was before they’d known there were two, though. Justin again.

         Could she really blame them for choosing to live, for serving the Empire? No. That was the hardest part. She would have done the same thing. She might have done it before they’d come for her, if she’d known—known that Mils had been the one who’d shot her. No, she’d thought it was the stormtroopers. So she’d resisted out of pure instinct – blind loyalty to a cause.

         So, then, could she really blame them for wanting to kill her and Mils when they’d caught up? Probably not. They hadn’t followed through, in the end, even though they could’ve. They hadn’t. Why not?

         Does it matter? she wondered. If they didn’t then, they wouldn’t have waited until now. Stop being so damn paranoid and get on with it. They’re counting on you to help plan this thing. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and work, Shar!

         She allowed herself one last errant thought before focusing. This may be about Talon, but some day I will kill Justin. She felt the words tinged by cold anger. Oh, yes. She wanted him dead, for so many reasons…but one above all.

         She stood back up and paced in her cabin, surprised to find her glass empty. It was always this part that Sharliss hated the most.

         Get her into the thick of things, sometime when she didn’t have the time to think, and she was fine. Let her be on the mission, waiting for something to happen, and she was fine. Relaxing on the way out from one, she was fine. But the time spent waiting for the mission to start always tears me apart.

         They had the beginnings of a plan, after the time they’d spent forming one. They knew the basics now. Why did it feel like a wasted day, then? Striker wanted them on their way as soon as possible. Once they were, they’d be on their own for a good six months – plus or minus. Maybe that’s what bothered her.

         She gave up and left, walking down the hallway towards Sia’s room. Maybe he’d still be up. She didn’t feel like sleeping anyhow.

*Private chamber 12-43, MC-90 Hawkseye*

“You know it's true Max. We never could trust them from the beginning; we couldn't trust them then, and we can't trust them now. You know..."

"When we get down there, you cover the rear hatch and I'll take them from the ramp..."

"They left you behind to die..."

         "No!" Sia-Lan gasped for breath as he shot up in his bed.

         "If the Force can't stop bad dreams, then I guess I'm just outta luck!" Sia-Lan was startled by a familiar voice from the desk in the corner of the room. "So you started having bad dreams once we got back together also?" Sharliss asked with a hint of sympathy in her voice.

         "Started?" Sia-Lan swung his feet out to sit on the edge of the bed. "If only; I'm not sure I've had a good nights sleep since we split up. If it makes you feel any better, Max has been having the same since we got here. The scary part is that he told me about it; I didn't even know Max had emotions." Sia-Lan said with a half-grin on his face.

         Sharliss dropped her head, realizing she couldn't even get herself to smile at that.

         "I don't know if I can, Sia. I don't think I can do it...I'm scared. It makes Kuat seem like a walk in the park."

         Sia-Lan managed to let a smirk through. "Kuat. What were we thinking?"

         He broke the silence after a few moments. "I don't think we have a choice, do we, Shar? The Rebellion needs..."

         "Striker needs us, Sia," Sharliss cut in, "that's why I'm here, at least. Screw the Rebellion. They've certainly never done me any good."

         "What time is..." Sia-Lan started to ask as he looked out his porthole. "You hear that?" Sia-Lan asked, walking towards a muffled voice at the door. "It's Max," he added with a smile, reaching for the door panel. He punched the unlock code, but nothing happened.

         "Oh yeah, about that Sia—I think I disabled your door trying to get the lock open." Sharliss smiled as she held up her datapad. "That's sort of why I'm still in your room. Have been for about an hour," she added with a nod.

         "Wonderful!" Sia-Lan groaned as he walked over the communication console. "Dispatch, please send a technician to 12-43 to repair the door panel."

         "Roger, a technician will be there shortly," the dispatcher responded from the console. Sia-Lan shook his head as he turned back towards Sharliss, who was now standing next to the door.

         "This might take a while Max, come back in an hour or so." Sharliss shouted through the door. She looked embarrassed as she turned back towards Sia-Lan. "That didn't sound good, did it?"

         Sia-Lan shook his head with a laugh, walking over to his desk to look over the previous night's planning.

         "That reminds me." Sharliss threw out as Sia picked up the datapad.

         "What's that?" he asked, looking up.

         "Why did you let us live?" Ah, hell, Shar. Don't open your mouth when you're tired.

         Sia-Lan blinked, not expecting the question. "What do you mean?" He thought he knew, but he wanted to make sure. They'd never discussed that, had they?

         Well, I already said more than I wanted to. Why not more? "Twice. Once right after...after Logan. Then again after we crashed."

         Sia leaned back in the chair, not sure what to say. It'd been a few years since then. I couldn't."

         She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching his expressions. Lack of them, mostly, in a Jedi. Still, old habits died hard. "Couldn't," she echoed.

         He nodded and turned back to the datapad.

         "What do you mean, you couldn't? What about Logan?" she demanded.

         "I was wrong—when do you think the dreams started?" he countered, still looking down at his datapad.

         That hit home. She winced. "I had to ask."

         Time passed without words. Sia again looked up from his datapad. Sharliss was staring out the window at nothing, the same thing she had been doing for the past forty minutes.

         "What about you?" Sia-Lan finally asked. "Why did you come back for me? Why trust Max after what we did?"

         Sharliss continued to stare out the window.

         Sia-Lan finally turned back to his datapad, planning what was sure to be a suicide attempt.

         "I had to." That was all she said.

         "You didn't have to do anything, Sharliss."

         "You guys came back for me on Star's End. I couldn't leave you to die again after what you did for me." She seemed to lose some of her poise.

         "You didn't have to....but thank you." He decided to ignore the again part.

         Sharliss finally looked over with a small smile.

         The moment ended as the door opened, Max walking in with a quizzical expression. "So what's going on here guys?"

         Sharliss put on her innocent face, looking back out the window.

         "Let's just say Shar loses datapad privledges," Sia-Lan said with a smile.

         She chuckled at that, prompting a look from Max. He shook his head. “Ah. Well, that makes more sense than, uh—so I thought we should take another look at the plan,” he changed the subject. “We need some way to make certain we get assigned to Talon’s ship.”

         “Where’s Mils?” Sharliss asked.

         “Sleeping. You know him. He’ll be here in a couple,” Max answered.

         “His slicer friend will take care of the orders. We’ll pay him enough that he won’t do more than that.” Sia-Lan said, thumbing through the notes on the datapad. “After that it’s up to us.”

         Sharliss kicked off the wall, walking over to read the datapad over Sia-Lan’s shoulder. “Just as long as it’s not so much that he figures our secrets are worth more. Will we be able to see each other once aboard the Vengeance?”

         “Doubtful.” Max didn’t like the idea of compromising their roles. “Anything unusual could give us away.”

         She paused. Max must be taking it seriously if he didn’t want to get into a fight. “Well, how are we going to coordinate once we’re aboard, then? We have to have some way to keep in touch, or else we might as well give up on doing any proper mayhem once Striker shows.”

         “We should have some chances to meet up. Even if by accident.” Sia thought for a moment, flipping to the next page. “Maybe as part of our duties? If you want me to be an officer on his ship, I can probably arrange something at least once.” He hesitated. “Though I’m still not sure I like that idea.”

         “What, a random inspection or something? A Star Destroyer has over thirty thousand people aboard!” Sharliss smirked. “We’ll need more than a few chance encounters to coordinate with each other. Besides, you fooled me long enough as a medic. Talon should be easier.”

         He shrugged. “Well, assuming I get the right kind of position, I can figure something out. I have your aliases. Right?”

         She didn’t look happy. “I guess. Just wish there was a way to make more concrete plans. Not knowing kills me.” Oh, lovely choice of words.

         “I’m sure me and Mils will be working together fairly often. Stormtroopers and shuttle crews see a lot of the same action. Besides, you shouldn’t have much of a problem since you’ll be doing maintenance on our gear,” Max said, still standing in the middle of the floor.

         Sia grinned and glanced at Sharliss. “Just let her datapad near your computer equipment. That’ll take hours to fix.”

         “Why do I always get a hard time for that? I’m great with electronics!” she groused.

         “Yeah, great at breaking them.” Max gave a feral grin. “Now are we gonna plan or just snipe at each other? The Admiral wants us on our way quick-like.”

         “There’s not much to go over, Max. We’ve covered just about all we can,” Sia pointed out. “We can figure out details en route.”

         “Then what are we still doing here?” he wanted to know.

         “Waiting for Mils to get up,” Sharliss quipped, straightening. “I guess we don’t need much, not if we’re transferring in from destroyed ships,” she directed at Sia. “We can let the Empire pay to outfit us; all we’ll need is a uniform each.”

         “Maybe not even that. Riko was on leave,” he pointed out. “But we’ll get one just in case.”

         “So that’s it then.” Sharliss walked over to Max. “Should we tell Striker we’re leaving?”

         “No. He’ll understand.” Max seemed anxious, for him. That meant the slightest trace of an eager look.

         “I guess he wouldn’t want us on his conscience, eh?” The statement fell flat. “Sorry, bad joke. I’ll go try and scare up a shuttle out of here. They seem to leave fairly often.” Sharliss stepped out.

         Max eyed her as she left, then turned to Sia. “She alright? She’s been making some morbid jokes lately.”

         “She’s fine. She’s just worried. You’re not?” I won’t tell him what we talked about. I don’t think she trusts him yet.

         Max shrugged. “Either we’ll take them out, or they’ll take us out. What’s there to worry about?”

         At least he’s predictable. “It’s not the safest thing we’ve tried.”

         “Neither was Kuat, but we made it through that alright.”

         Sia shook his head, not even bothering to continue the conversation. Max hated admitting things. “Let’s just get ready to leave.”

         “I still have some questions about the plan.”

         “We’ll go over everything again one last time on the ship. Or on the ground. You’re the one who didn’t want the crew here to know what we’re planning.”

         Max nodded. “Alright. I’ll grab my gear.” He turned and walked out.

         I hope we know what we’re getting into.

{center]***

Continued in:

Chapter Six: En Passant  (13+) They set off to the staging point: Ord Mantell. #1367602 by Renfucious