Chapter 2

The landing platform sank a full two miles before it rested in it’s docking area, connecting with the rest of Dianoga base. The prison was three levels and rested comfortable at the bottom of the Emerald Ocean. A good deal of the base was powered off of the thermal vents next to it. Small power stations were built over the vents, and think pipes ran back to the prison. From above it made Dianoga look like a large spoked wheel, the landing platform being in the very center. With the docking station raised the prison resembled the water scavenger it was named after. The power cables became it’s tentacles and the platform became the eyestalk that would raise above the water. A few lights flickered in the murky depths; the areas not meant for the prisoners actually had view ports that looked out onto the ocean floor. The landing platform slid down into the top floor and the blue lights shifted back into standard lighting. The dock rumbled a little as the air locks between the platform and the rest of the base forced the remaining water between them out. The airlock doors opened with a loud hiss. Then there was the rhythmic thunder of a platoon of stormtroopers making their way into the landing platform. Captain Sheerk walked at his own pace behind his troops. He had donned his actual uniform while in Dianoga. Unlike most Imperial uniforms, Sheerk’s was black. The color announced to all that he commanded stormtroopers. He had heard rumors that they crew of some new super weapon were also wearing the black uniforms. He was proud of the distinction his uniform gave him, but rarely comfortable in it. Some had seen his preference in wearing the armor of his troops as a mad man’s folly. After seeing an enhanced performance in the units under him though, the Imperial Army decided not to reprimand the Captain for his eccentricity. The troopers split up in mid-march so there was a line of them on both sides of the Interrogator’s entrance hatch.

The entrance hatch opened slowly, as if a crack was opening up in the hull. Sheerk waited a little impatiently as the ramp lowered to the ground. His men stood at attention in two columns before him, none of them were moving, but he knew they’d be ready if something happened. The ramp finally touched down on the deck and the door the ramp had concealed slid open silently. The white shell of stormtrooper armor was the first thing visible. Two of them, both armed with blaster rifles started down the ramp. Behind them was a Lieutenant in the Imperial Navy. His uniform was immaculate and looked freshly pressed. He had a thick black moustache and hair to match. He was a thin man and a little on the short side, a fact that only seemed more evident when flanked by stormtroopers. Beside him was an attractive blonde woman with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was dressed in a grey prison jump suit. Incase there was any doubt the prisoner could somehow get away, directly behind them two more stormtroopers followed them. The first pair of stormtroopers reached the bottom of the ramp and in unison, sidestepped to the right and left, so they posted guard on either side of the ramp. Lieutenant Fallmer and his prisoner stepped down onto the landing platform. Sheerk studied them both for a moment before finally speaking. “I assume this means the Rebels have taken the bait Lieutenant?”

Fallmer looked at Sheerk for a moment. Of course they had taken the bait. If they had not Fallmer would have had to inform everyone involved immediately. They both knew it. Fallmer had even submitted a report giving details of the whole mission. Sheerk was trying to play mind games and Fallmer bit back the venom growing in his throat. “Yes sir, even now I’m sure our spy is at the Rebel’s base as we speak.”

“Excellent. Now there was something about the Rebel casualties being a little lower then you had originally expected. I hope the loss of our men was equally as,” Sheerk paused for a moment and smiled, showing off his scar as he did so, “overestimated.”

Lieutenant Fallmer glared as much was humanly possible. He tried to drown out the Captain’s words with images of himself choking the arrogant officer to Sheerk’s death. The stillness of the air alerted him to something. It was quiet and Sheerk was staring back at him. A well-practiced sneer was obviously meant for him. The look hit Fallmer like a wave of cold water, immediately jarring him back into reality. “Unfortunately sir the Rebel force was trained better then we expected. Despite our preparations we took losses substantially over our projections.”

Sheerk licked his lips, as if he could taste the man’s discomfort floating through the air. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes and noticed the walls of white his men created. All of them stood rigid and at attention. “I see. Well that is most disheartening isn’t it? At least we were able to make a few of those Rebels pay. Exactly how many of them did you manage to kill?” Sheerk’s mouth curved up into a cruel smile, amplified in its ugliness by his scar.

“We were unable to kill any of the Rebel operatives sir.”

Captain Sheerk raised an eyebrow in a look of controlled surprise. “My, these Rebels must have been formidable indeed. We shall talk about this later. First let us escort Doctor Towar to her new home.”

Dr. Towar was an important member of Project Dianoga whether she had realized it or not. The man who originally came up with the idea for the prison was Regional Governor Kiatt Jorus. It was Jorus who also discovered how mineral rich the sea floor of Volmar was. Things quickly began to fall into place. The use of thermal vents cut the need for outside power and his partnership with Captain Sheerk would keep his prison staffed. Both men worked vary hard keeping the facility off of Imperial records. It had been built with diverted Imperial money, skimmed taxes, and what they had made selling the minerals they mined. Although the prison was now two years old, it was just beginning to make a profit. A very large profit. Using the Volmi’s ability to breathe and maneuver underwater for long periods of time they suddenly had excellent miners. The fact that it was slave labor bothered neither man. Sheerk’s men formed press gangs to scour the larger cities when their current supply of workers had depleted. The Volmi were a great deal more agile then the troopers underwater and a number of small groups had managed to escape while working. Doctor Towar had been brought to Dianoga to remedy that problem.

The Volmi biology was a great deal different then the normal human’s. Doctor Towar had a celebrated deal of skill dealing with the alien’s fragile system. Although their skin was thicker then a human’s, the Volmi’s internal organs were much more delicate. The medical droids the Imperials used did not yet have the programming to do such a sensitive operation as the insertion of the “mites”. Sheerk had finally convinced Jorus the need to implant the prisoners with the small droids he had called mites. The little droid was implanted on the back of the neck, tapped into the central nervous, and wrapped small tendrils around the jugular vein and carotid artery. The center of the mite housed enough explosives to sever the central nervous system and turn the muscle mass into paste. In some cases it even decapitated the victim. The perimeter of the base was already set with sensors that would detonate anyone foolish enough to try and leave the area. Another feature of the mite, was that it could constrict the nerves to cause spasms or could stop all oxygen from getting to the brain to cause its host to pass out. Sheerk escorted Doctor Towar to her new cell with an extra spring in his step. The Rebels were harboring his spy, he had the real Towar, and he was very close to being an extremely rich man. The fact that his uniform was chaffing him in some places, and far too tight around his neck, did nothing to kill his mood. Things were going very well for Sheerk and he could only see them getting better.

Rian and Zwick walked into the darkened briefing room, Tubby following behind them. The motion sensors caught them quickly and filled the room with light. The center of the room had a large holoprojector and a good twenty chairs were arranged around it. The chairs were a motley lot, no two looked exactly alike. Rian had been delayed a week when he was pulled in to help evacuate the Alliance base on Dantooine. When he returned, he did have Carson Dire with him. Zwick had seen the holo of Dire attached to his file, but the husk that returned with Ikner looked nothing like that man. He still had the same long blonde hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail. A growth of stubble clung to his cheeks, a dark goatee on his chin. His blue eyes seemed sunken into his face. The dark circles under them made the bloodshot orbs appear to be even redder. The smell of lum seeped from the man’s every pore. Seven months ago Dire was one of the most celebrated men on Cree. He had professionally raced air speeders for close to three years and was generally considered the best on the planet. The race speeders were outfitted with oversized thrusters in addition to repulsorlift coils making them incredibly fast and difficult to control. During his last races, his controls had ionized. Carson had managed to coax the craft a little higher before bailing out, but it still crashed into a portion of the grandstand. The impact and following explosion had resulted in a death toll over two hundred. An investigation proved that Carson wasn’t responsible for the crash and even had managed to point the speeder to a less populated area; probably saving double the number that had perished. That fact had not eased Dire’s conscious though. After the accident he had crawled into the bottom of a lum bottle. Rian felt he could drag him out.

Zwick took a seat in the front row while Rian loaded a datacard into the holoprojector. The sound of footsteps heralded the first of the recruits entering the briefing. Zwick checked his chrono; someone was a good ten minutes early. Mekita D’Amico entered the room and snapped off a textbook salute to Rian and then again to Zwick before taking a seat on the other side of the projector. Her long brown hair had been pinned to the back of her head into a bun. She sat rigidly in the chair, a datapad in her lap. Ikner had chosen her right out of the Rebel’s crash course in X-Wing training. All the personality reports showed her as professional and detached. Her piloting scores were impressive, and her scores from the Imperial Academy were even more impressive. Their records showed that after defecting from the Imperial Navy she spent six months planet hopping before finally joining the Alliance. She was a native of Seisin, so being a native of the Rios Cluster had helped her getting chosen. Some uncertainty still existed that she may be an Imperial spy, but Rian was willing to believe her.

The next person to enter was a native of the Cluster also. Ruade Ad Din was a Volmi pilot. That in itself was incredibly rare. The Empire had kept Volmar under a tight quarantine, prohibiting the Volmi to leave their home planet. Ruade had been imprisoned in an underwater facility and forced to work in the submerged mines. He had managed to not only escape from his captors, but to hook up with Volmi sympathizers that helped him escape the planet. Actively seeking ways to help his home planet, Ad Din had immediately joined the Alliance, but he was having trouble convincing the Alliance the remote system was of high importance. Regardless of his political frustrations, he had trained to be a fine pilot and was already an ace. As he entered the room, he scanned over the room with red eyes. His light green skin was beaded with moisture, causing Zwick to assume Ruade had just left his quarters. To make him more comfortable the Volmi had a humidifier that made his room closer to his home atmosphere. In the center of his head was a retracted fin that started just above his eyes and to the back of his skull. The lack of a nose made Zwick think the Volmi’s face looked empty. Underneath his wide mouth were two barbels that hung down to the bottom of his throat. Din took a seat a little behind Staamas and Rian noticed Mekita aiming a cold look at the Volmi.

The next group entered as a trio. Skeng Cooper walked in between Shiel and Veid Verlott. Cooper was Carthain. The race had a bad reputation for being swindlers, one that Zwick didn’t want to bias him. The facts though were not good for Cooper. The Void Spiders had rescued the young man when they broke Doctor Towar out of the prison ship. Skeng was a first class starship thief. Cooper’s partner would bypass the security on ships and Skeng would then pilot them away to safety. According to Imperial reports, he was an excellent pilot, but Zwick couldn’t get passed the fact that the man was a thief. Many of the Alliance members were wanted by the Imperials, but those crimes were not the same as the long list the Skeng had. Jace had mentioned that Cooper was handy in a fight and according to the laughter coming from the Verlott twins he had evidently made friends with them. Staamas was inclined not to like him though, deep down he hoped that it wouldn’t affect how he treated him.

Skeng’s companions were the Verlott twins. Both women were completely identical and were a few inches shorter then Skeng. They had green hair a little lighter then Nihil’s skin. Shiel’s was cut so it hung to her chin, the back and sides of her head shaved short. Vied’s hair hung to her shoulders. Both Rian and Zwick were happy that there was some way to tell the duo apart. Zwick could see why Skeng was giving them his attention; both women had delicate features and were very attractive. The two came to the squadron as a package deal. Neither was willing to take on an assignment where the sister was not involved. That had limited their use to the Rebellion, but Rian had seen it as a boon. Under General Reeves’ orders, he had to put the squadron together of volunteers. The sisters were happy to join up knowing they’d be paired together. The trio made their way to the back of the room, Skeng in the midst of some story that produced giggles from the girls. Skeng noticed Zwick watching them and shot Staamas a wink. It only confirmed what he had thought before, he didn’t like the Carthain.

Dara Lin’Say was the next to enter. Zwick swallowed hard as he watched her enter the room. The holo he had seen of her was pretty, but it had done her true beauty no justice. She was an inch shorter then the Verlott twins; placing her around five foot five. She was a Twi’lek and carried herself with the grace of their famed dancers. Her figure was generous in the bust and hips while the rest of it was slender. The most notable feature was she was missing one of the two tapered lobes that the Twi’lek race had growing out of the back of their head. While humans called them head tails, they were named lekku by the Twi’leks. The lekku contained additional sensory nerves and were very sensitive. Rumor had it they were also erogenous zones, although the Twi’leks neither confirmed nor denied that. The loss of a lekku had to have been a horrible experience for the young Dara. According to her file it had occurred during an Imperial attack on a smuggler’s craft. Dara was a decent pilot, but excelled at astronavigation. It was that skill that had gotten her a job on the Opulent Oasis. The Oasis had begun running weapons to the Alliance bringing it into numerous conflicts with Imperial Customs. During one such fight the Imperials had managed to board the ship. The crew fought back, resulting in Dara’s injury. When she recovered, she left the Oasis to become a fighter pilot. Lin’Say took a seat two chairs to the right of Zwick, causing him to shoot a goofy grin to Rian.

Two minutes after the briefing was supposed to take place four more men entered. The first two were Talos Latha and the security guard that was assigned to watch him. Talos was the other prisoner that had been freed from the Interrogator. Talos was a drifter, part time mercenary, part time bounty hunter, and all around ruffian. Even though he had agreed to join the squadron, General Reeves had ordered a security detail to be with him at all times. Already they had stopped two brawls from happening. The origin of Talos’ nickname Thrash was quickly becoming apparent. The third human in the group was a wild-eyed man known as Soto Madry. Madry was five foot six with fiery red hair that seemed to explode in every direction out of his scalp. Madry had been a freighter pilot who had saved an Alliance team from a squadron of stormtroopers a year ago. The Alliance had not been able to get rid of him since. Apparently Soto had thought it was destiny to join the Rebellion. All of his commanding officers had considered the man a little unstable, but his records showed him to be a capable starfighter pilot. Rian figured he could deal with the man narrating his actions in third person or claiming himself a hero as long he pulled his own weight. He had asked Zwick to watch Soto closely though, just incase sanity did become an issue.

Nihil Rem was the fourth person in the group entering. Nihil was a Luvium, another native from the Rious Cluster. Luvius was a large planet with a smoggy gas-like atmosphere that was deadly to humans. The planet’s surface was mostly made up of rugged mountains, the skies always hazy with the thick gas. The Luvium species had a limited heat vision. Their skin had a feint red tinge and their noses were pressed against their face. Their hands contained one less finger then a human's. When walking into the room, Nihil’s most distinctive feature was the mask that covered his entire face. The oxygen atmosphere was as lethal to him as Luvius’ was to humans. The mask was blue metal, twin black cylinders branched off to the right and left of his mouth. A small speaker unit sat between the cylinders and was noticeable as three black slits in the metal. It was a little difficult to see his eyes through the eyepieces in the mask; wafts of the dark gas obscured them. Nihil’s planet, while given more freedom then Ruade’s, was under heavy Imperial control. The atmosphere of Luvius could easily be refined into Tibanna gas, which was a powerful energy source especially used in blasters. Nihil had come from a Y-Wing squadron, where he was primarily a gunner. The four men sat somewhat near each other but seemed to have only arrived together as a coincidence.

Rian looked at his chrono and glanced around the room. There was only one person missing. He felt a little of his enthusiasm drain from him. Carson was not going to make this easy. He took a deep breath, knowing all eyes were on him. He pulled his headset comlink out of a pocket and was just read to send someone after Dire when he shuffled in. Of course all eyes were upon him as he entered. His head was tilted forward, his gaze on his feet. He fell into one of the chairs with a sigh and looked up. Rian offered him a smile, but it was met with a blank expression. Rian placed his datapad on the holoprojector and returned the comlink to his pocket. “Welcome everyone. If you don’t know who I am, my name is Captain Rian Ikner. I want to thank all of you for volunteering for my squadron.”

“You mean I had a choice?” came from the back of the room.

Rian looked over to Skeng and smiled. “We can put you back where we found you if you’d like Cooper.” The Carthain’s smile quickly faded and Veid giggled at his reaction. “Now, you all know we’re here to start a new squadron. In two weeks we’ll be shipping out to the Rios Cluster. I can’t tell you where in the Cluster we’ll be stationed, what planets we’ll be using, or any of the other details. At the moment all of that is classified under need to know. Until then we’ll be hitting the simulators hard. We’ll be running scenarios for almost any complication I can think of. I run a fairly relaxed squadron when it comes to protocol, but you’ll work for it. Expect some long hours in the near future people. This isn’t going to be an easy ride once we’re in system and I want all of us ready for it. As for squadron designations, I’m One. Carson is Two. Thrash you’re Three and Ruade, you’ll round One Flight as number Four. Lieutenant Staamas is Five and in charge of Two Flight. Nihil is Six, Shiel is Seven. Veid, you’ll be Eight. Flight Officer D’Amico is the head of Three Flight. Cooper is Ten, Dara Eleven, and Soto Twelve. I’ve got the simulators already waiting for us, so if you’ll follow me down the hall.”

Halla Caster looked herself over in the mirror. Her normally red hair had been dyed blonde to help her pose as Sabina Towar. Halla frowned; she thought the blonde hair made her look cheap. She shifted the body wrap under her clothes, to give her figure a more natural look. The wrap constricted some of the more ample parts of her figure that the Doctor lacked. Halla had been given two weeks to learn everything she could about Sabina’s life, behavior, and tastes. She was able to name off her complete history including childhood friends, the schools she attended, all the jobs she ever had, and most of the other people she had worked closely with. While it hadn’t been tested, Halla was sure she knew her subject well enough to fool those that dealt with her on a daily basis. Looking over her shoulder once more she opened up the small dresser that had been waiting for her in the room the Rebels had given her. While they had allowed Caster her privacy, Intelligence officers had come to her in a never-ending stream with questions about the Empire. When one of the officers wasn’t vying for her time, the leader of the Void Spiders was.

If she were under different circumstances Captain Darkmere’s advances wouldn’t be unwelcome. Even with his overwhelming dedication to the Rebellion, something that sickened Halla, the man had come off as charming. Unfortunately, he was always underfoot. His presence made her job more difficult. Halla hoped she wouldn’t have to personally kill Jace, but if he stood in her way she would have no choice in the matter. Checking over her shoulder one last time she pulled out the datapad she had found lying unattended two days ago. When the Spiders had originally “rescued” her, her prison jumpsuit was fitted with numerous internal pockets. With the contents of the pockets she was able to convert the datapad into a transmitter that would broadcast short encrypted messages. While it was possible, someone could intercept the transmission, they would have to be on that specific frequency and would still have to beat her encryption program. Overall it was a safe way for her to get messages back to Moff Dryden. As Caster powered up the datapad, a number of lights that were glued to the top of it flashed green. Halla smiled, she had only finished the datapad modifications that morning and didn’t have time to run a diagnostic on it. The lights indicated if her rudimentary skill in electrical wiring was successful or not. The screen flickered to life just as a knock came at her door.

In a fluid motion Halla dropped the datapad as softly as she could into the dresser with one hand while slamming shut the drawer with the other. Under her breath she let out a string of obscenities and checked herself once more in the mirror. The colored contact lens in her left eye had shifted, revealing a sliver of her iris. A blue so pale it was almost as white as the rest of her eye peeked out at her before she quickly fixed the problem. Looking in the mirror one last time to make sure her disguise was still intact, she called out, “Come in.”

The door opened with a hiss. Standing in the hallway was Jace, looking more like a nervous schoolboy then a military Captain. He was in civilian clothes, although they were a dark set that closely resembled the Imperial uniform. The shirt he wore had the same high collar, although it seemed to be made out of a much softer material. The black clothing, while matching his hair, really brought attention to his dark green eyes. Eyes that during his mission on the Interrogator had been those of a killer. Those eyes were now much meeker, although Halla still found them just as interesting. He rocked from boot to boot a little with uncertainly and gave her a nervous smile. “I. Um, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Halla let herself smile, but not for the reason Jace would imagine. Of course he was interrupting something. He would be amazed if he knew just what he was interrupting. Caster had finally determined exactly what system Holo Base was located, and the coordinates to the nearest Holonet broadcaster. It would only take one message to let the Empire know exactly where the Rebels were hiding. She still wanted to find an escape vehicle for herself, and she had yet to procure herself a hold-out blaster she could easily conceal. But these things she would most likely be able to do before the Imperial attack came. She brightened the smile a notch and tossed her hair back a little. “Of course not Captain. May I be of some assistance?”

Jace pulled his hand through his spiky black hair and wet his lips. “Doctor Towar, I was wondering. If by any chance. Maybe a little later tonight. You’d like to join me down at the Loading Zone?” The Loading Zone was Holo Base’s first and only real source of entertainment. The bar’s supply of alcohol came close to rivaling General Reeve’s private stash. It also had a dance floor and a few electronic pulse generators for Sabbac. The entire club was done in the same black and yellow striping used on the flight deck’s loading zones, giving it it’s name and spawning the phrase, “Come on in and get loaded.”

“Captain if you’re attempting to ask me out I’d prefer it if you called me Sabina.” She let herself laugh a little. It was a sound that lightly danced on the air and flushed Jace’s cheeks. “Should I be ready in three hours? Or is that not enough time?”

Jace’s grin sprawled across his features. “Three hours? Yes. I’ll meet you here in three hours.” He backed further into the hall a little. Halla couldn’t help but giggle once more as the door began to slide shut. Darkmere’s footfalls could be heard on the floor as he left. She glanced back down at her dresser and decided typing out her message could wait a little longer.