Episode X Dark Hunter

Arkania

Arkania was a light blue-grey planet, white at its poles, with only a band of darker grey at its equator where the ice was less prevalent. It was a planet covered in tundra, and though it had seasons due to its widely elliptical orbit, its temperature at the equator was never higher than ten-degrees Celsius, and never lower than negative thirty at the equator. The poles were covered in a permanent freeze, and hardly any of its inhabitants lived there. Its weak white star, Olim, lived distantly so that if a terrestrial held their arm at full extension, the star's diameter would only be half the width of a fifth finger, or sixth. Icy mountains covered most of the terrain, but some rolling hills existed in between the four global mountain regions. It was in these hills that most of the cities were founded.

Slave-1 materialized from hyperspace, a new star in the vast galaxy, a dark star as another galactic poet would muse. Cam leaned forward from the passenger seat to look at the novel planet, eager to see the new locale; never had he been to so many exotic places, never had he been anywhere.

"That's it?" he asked.

"Guess so," Videsse answered loudly enough for Cam to hear, his passenger seat positioned beneath the cockpit. She adjusted the control switch above her to release the navigation for manual control. "Looks cold."

"So, what are we going to do? Look around for acolytes?" Cam inquired.

"Something like that," Videsse replied. She checked to ensure her HoloNet console was on and pulled up a topographical schematic. After locating the planet's largest city, she directed the ship to orbit counter to Arkania's rotation. The city was Adascopolis, and it was eighty-five degrees west of Slave-1's current position.

While the ship silently floated around the planet, Videsse exited her seat and retreated to the cargo bay. Her hand unlatched a door on the wall, not the one that Cam had hidden in. A chest slid out and opened on its own. Videsse removed boot charges and loaded them. New grenades found their place on her hip.

Cam snuck in behind her. "What are you bringing?"

Videsse grabbed another dozen power cells, more than usual. "It's cold down there. I'll need more of these to keep the infrared coils working in my armor." She looked at Cam. "And we're gonna need to find you something to cover you. Planetside, I guess." She stopped, lowered her head, and rubbed her temples.

"What's the matter?" Cam asked.

"Nothin'," Videsse replied. "Just a headache." She wiped her forehead and the equipping resumed.

She clipped on an extra hard-cased pouch to her hip and filled it with the power cells and a few tracking devices. "Choices . . ." she muttered to herself. "Cloaking is gonna be a power drain." She felt the compact cloaking device at the small of her back. She almost removed it but decided to keep her options open.

The HoloNet blared suddenly, as if it could blare in any other way, and without a second to spare, Videsse was in the cockpit. A man spoke over the comm in a language that Viddesse did not recognize. The language contained mostly voiced consonants, giving it a humming sound, which might have produced an almost musical character, except for the overrepresentation of palatal stops and trills, thus adding an unpleasant harshness to the language. She pounded her fist on the communication button.

"This is Dark Star, a trader. Please respond in Basic." To observe that this reply was rapid is not to imply that this reply was without instantaneous and surgical forethought. Which of her many aliases to use, and what purpose she was present for, were specifically chosen. She knew that the acolytes would have found her previous alias, Ohara Fett, to be associated with the stolen ship. She also considered that anyone who knew of her investigating its theft was dead in Felga's throne room, so Dark Star was a safe alias to use, and may still carry with it the threat earned from Felga's death, if not the reason.

The man replied in the foreign language and seemed irritated. Three Needle-Class ships appeared as if from nowhere; two sidled up to her ship and one behind her. The Needle-Class ships were slender one-man snub fighters and appeared as delicate, swift, and deadly as their name implied. Each snub fighter had a narrow ten-meter body, no more than one meter thick, that extended between the swollen sublight drive at the stern and the cockpit at the bow. Their thin elliptical lateral stabilizers divided the ships in half.

"He doesn't sound happy," Cam noted from behind Videsse.

"Shut up, Cam," Videsse stated. She maintained her direction but slowed the ship a bit "This is an independent trade ship. Does anyone speak Basic?" she requested again.

Electric webs crackled within the space of the dual elliptical stabilizers as the Needle-Class snubs lined up to target lock.  The electric webs coalesced into a pulsating center.

Videsse noticed it on her viewscreen. "They're preparing to fire." She activated the rear shields, and gripped the control arm tightly, preparing for a fight. Her knuckles tightened as the white tendons under her skin showed. Her shoulders raised as her body leaned away from the seat.

However, before any erratic flying was needed, the comm responded with a heavy accent. "What is your trade, Dark Star?"

Videsse's knuckles eased and she pressed the comm with her left hand but did not release her grip with the right. "I am a merchant, here for the diamond trade."

There was an uncomfortable pause, while the ships remained motionless, and the planet glided past them.

"Where is your home port?" the unfriendly voice replied.

Videsse thought quickly, not wanting to give any indication of where she was from, where she had just visited, or why she was here. "Malastare," she replied, knowing that Malastare, being rich in fuel reserves would explain her financial resources. She anticipated the scrutiny.

"Do you have a Trade Privilege License?" the voice continued.

Here, Videsse had no choice for an answer. By choosing Malastare, a Senate affiliate, her only answer was affirmative. It was a test. To deny trade privilege would create suspicion; to affirm it would only hinder her reception if Arkania was hostile to Senate sovereignty, which was uncertain. Cam, surprisingly, was quiet for the first time, and not without effort, although the possibility of being blown to space dust helped close his mouth.

"Yes," Videsse answered finally and put her hand to her forehead in anticipation.

There was another silence. One could only assume the Arkanian officer was running through a database; which one and for what purpose was not revealed.

Videsse returned her hand from her forehead to the control arm, her thumbs rubbing the top of each hand bar.

Cam, as I mentioned before, held his voice for an unusually long time, though short by any other standard, and it was here where his self-control met its limit.

"Why did you tell them we were diamond traders? We're looking for Dark Side worshippers," Cam asked abruptly, grabbing her shoulder and leaning over her.

"Shut up, Cam," Videsse ordered, but then rethought the order. "There are going to be hundreds of all kinds of worship temples on this planet, just like everywhere else, I assume. Looking for Dark Side worshippers will be like looking for a needle in quinto grain. These acolytes showed up at my doorstep in a Marek Hornet; not an inexpensive ship. They also paid off Felga for permission to search Nar Shaddaa. These acolytes have money. And this planet's wealthy sit on their diamonds, like a Krayt dragon on Au gold. So that's where we start . . . if they let us in, that is."

"If they let us in, that is" was an accurate statement, for the Arkanians were not going to. The comm spoke at that moment. "Dark Star, you have been denied entry. Remove your ship from Arkanian jurisdiction immediately, or be subject to Arkanian law for trespass aggression."

Cam tilted his head. "What does that mean?"

"It means you need to get strapped in."

Cam disappeared in an instant. Videsse's white tendons of her knuckles appeared again.