"Understand that. No time for political affinity when belly empty."

It took the better part of a local day to see to the refueling, load the cargo of brandy and tabac, and install the computer programs that would provide the YT with its new ident.i.ty. All Zenn Bien could think about was getting hack behind the freighter's controls. Most of the journey to the Tungra sector would be in hypers.p.a.ce, but opportunities to put Gone to Pieces through her paces were bound to arise.

"Task the Rubicon with plotting us a course through the Yarith," Quip said when the three of them had settled into the c.o.c.kpit chairs.

Zenn Bien swiveled to face him. "Why do that when we can just jump the Trade Spine?"

"Make certain registry telesponder and authenticators working properly at Yarith before continuing to Tungra," Luufkin said.

She didn't question it. Being caught with a ship stolen from Imperial impound would get them ten to twenty at Carcel or somewhere worse. Better to be safe than sorry.

A few hours short of Lutrillia, they were going over plans for dismantling the YT when the proximity alert system issued an earsplitting howl and the ship began to shudder as if she were in the grip of a powerful gravitational field.

"Can't be a ma.s.s shadow!" Zenn Bien said, eyeing the star map even as she fought to control the ship. "We're dead on course!"

But the heavens were telling her something different. Stars began to appear in the neutral folds of hypers.p.a.ce, only to elongate and resume form.

"Something's pulling us into reals.p.a.ce!" The yoke rattled in her hands, and every system added a harsh new sound to the chorus of alarms.

"Power down or ship will break apart!" Luufkin advised.

Quip nodded in agreement, and Zenn Bien's hands flew across the console, zeroing one system, after the next. Beyond the curved view port the starfield rotated madly, then stabilized, and she found herself staring at a large Imperial ship in stationary orbit above a desolate looking planet. The ship had the dagger shape of a Star Destroyer but was considerably smaller, more lightly armed, and distinguished by a quartet of globes that bulged from the stern.

Zenn Bien watched the YT's IFF transponder cycle in a futile at-tempt to identify the vessel.

"Interdictor cruiser," Luufkin said finally. "Prototype from Sienar Fleet Systems. Globes are gravity-well projectors."

"Yes, the Imps have added something new to their a.r.s.enal," Quip said.

Zenn Bien was speechless.

The c.o.c.kpits enunciators crackled to life.

"YT freighter. Maintain your present course and identify yourself."

Luufkin nodded. "Now we see if registry functions."

"Imperial cruiser control," Quip said into the headset, "we are Gone to Pieces out of Sriluur. Transiting to the Corellian Trade Spine."

A moment pa.s.sed before the voice said: "Gone to Pieces, no one apprised you when you filed your jump plan that the Yarith system is restricted s.p.a.ce?"

"Sriluur s.p.a.ceport control failed to advise us."

"What is your cargo?"

"We're empty, control. Pilot, copilot, and navigator."

"Hold at coordinates three-seven-dash-seven and prepare for inspection."

Zenn Bien commenced reenabling the systems, then stopped. "The maneuvering thrusters are down. They must have failed when we were yanked into reals.p.a.ce."

"Inform cruiser control," Luufkin said, leaning forward in what seemed expectation.

The reply from the cruiser was slow in coming.

"Gone to Pieces, scans confirm that you are empty and unarmed. Our tractor beam will bring you in."

Zenn Bien sat back in the chair. "Well, this is a first for me."

Luufkin sat back as well. "No worries. Imperials are only human."

And some of them were grown rather than born, Zenn Bien thought as a squad of stormtroopers formed up in the main hangar once the Interdictor's pincer cranes had the YT in electromagnetic lock. No sooner had she, Quip, and Luufkin been marched out than several of the stormtroopers marched in to perform a routine inspection. When the troopers reappeared, signaling an all clear, a human executive officer in a gray uniform approached, eyeing Zenn Bien and Luufkin in disdain while he closed on Quip.

"We're allowing you to continue on your way, Captain Fargil. Next time you may not be as fortunate."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir. But we've a slight problem. Your gravity well projectors have made it impossible for us to maneuver We need to effect repairs."

"Here? You can't be serious."

Quip dropped his voice a notch. "Sir, when I said we were empty I neglected to mention that we are carrying several crates of fine brandy and superior tabac. As a way of thanking you for your hospitality we would very much like to donate the cargo to the commando and yourself."

The officer lifted an eyebrow. "Just how long will it take you to effect repairs?"

"Not more than a local day."

"You have twelve hours. Then I want you and your . . . crew on your way." He motioned for the stormtroopers to break formation and beckoned four of them to his side. "Captain Fargil will be off-loading some cargo. Have it conveyed to my cabin immediately."

He spun on his heel and marched off, the rest of the stormtroopers falling in behind him.

Zenn Bien watched him go and swung to Quip. "I don't know whether that was bold or just plain insane, but nice going, either way." Usually quick to smile, Quip was all business. "Show these troopers to the cargo. We have work to do."

The troopers wasted no time loading six crates of brandy and tabac onto a repulsorsled and escorting it into the innards of the ship, Zenn Bien had located a cache of power tools in one of the cabins and was preparing to haul them into the main hold maintenance bay when she heard Quip call from the starboard ring corridor. "First things first. Give us a hand with these things." He and Luufkin had their hands gripped on the corridor deck plates when Zenn Bien joined them.

"The access bays are in the main hold," Zenn Bien started to say when Luufkin interrupted. "Help lift out."

Without further word, she put her back into it. The alloy plates had well-concealed handholds and were not nearly as heavy as Zenn Bien had antic.i.p.ated. The surprise came when three Jawas, two Chadra-Fan, and a quartet of Squibs emerged from secret compartments beneath the plates. Each of the rodent-like beings wore a utilily belt and breather mask, and carried toolboxes, workarounds, and an a.s.sortment of canisters of type that typically housed knockout gas.

"They boarded at Sriluur," Quip said by way of explanation.

Zenn Bien regarded the beings, all of whom approximated her height. "Something tells me you didn't bring them along in case of breakdowns."

"No," Luufkin said. "They come to steal parts from cruiser's hyperdrive."

Angry, insulted, hurt that she had been manipulated, Zenn Bien returned to the tools she had found and disappeared into the maintenance bay to repair the thruster system. It didn't take long for her to realize that the YT's contingent of little folk had engineered the system to fail on the ship's being pulled into reals.p.a.ce. Repairs, such as they were, wouldn't take more than a couple of hours. She was laying out the tools when Quip wriggled down into the bay.

"I'm sorry I couldn't let you in on it."

"What, you were under orders?" she said without looking at him.

"It's true."

She lowered the hydrospanner and turned to him. "This isn't just another heist?"

He shook his head. "The hyperdrive parts are for upgrading this ship."

"I don't understand. We're not chopping it? That was never part of the plan?"

"Afraid not."

"Then why do you need ..." Zenn Bien allowed her words to trail off as it came to her. "You've joined the insurgency."

"For over a year now."

"The warrant officer at Nilash? Luufkin?"

"They're the ones who conscripted me."

"The Jawas and the rest?"

"They're being paid. Just like you'll be paid." He paused. "Plus a bonus if you help us."

"Help how?"

Quip prized a flimsiplast from his shirt pocket and unfolded it. "A schematic of the Interdictor."

Initially Zenn Bien refused to look, then thought hotter of it. "Got it," she said.

Quip grinned. "You know, we could sure use people like you."

"Just this once," she warned.

Wearing a breather mask, Zenn Bien guided the team of Jawas, Squibs, and Chadra-Fan through a labyrinth of narrow, long-ceilinged corridors that coursed between the Interdictor's armored hull and habitable core, Luufkin belly-crawling behind them to execute a mission of his own.

Being small had its advantages, after all.

Exiting the interst.i.tial network in the stern of the ship, they made their way into the hyperdrive housing, which was tended to by maintenance droids but absent security of any sort. Leave it to the Empire to overlook a design flaw, Zenn Bien thought as the scavenger team went to work, conversing quietly in squeaks and squawks.

They used the same corridors to transport parts back to the YT, stowing them in the ship's innermost freight room. Once Zenn Bien was satisfied that the team had learned the route, she remained behind with Quip to patch up the thruster system. Over the course of three hours, the stolen parts began to mount up: an Isu-Sim SSPO5 hyper-drive motivator, Rendili trans.p.a.citors, paralight relays, a null quantum field stabilizer . . .

"Just so you know," Quip said. "All of this is for a good cause."

"I'm not enlisting, Quip."

"We're in your debt either way."

"Save the thank-yous for when we get to wherever it is we're actually going."

With the repair work completed, they returned to the main hold to find Luufkin replacing the final deck plate that concealed the hid-den compartments.

"All accounted for," the Verpine said.

The three of them were walking down YT's boarding ramp when the Imperial commander and an escort of storm troopers returned.

"Captain Fargil, whatever repairs remain to be effected will have to be done in s.p.a.ce or downside."

"What happened to our having twelve local hours?"

"Be grateful for those I gave you," the commander snarled.

"That I am," Quip said. "We're just about done anyway."

"Then ready your ship for launch. We're under way at six hundred hours."

Surprise tugged at Quip's features. "You're moving?"

"I don't see that our orders are any of your concern, Captain." The officer's eyes narrowed in sudden distrust. "I begin to wonder if I haven't misjudged you."

"It's just that I thought you were in holding orbit."

Hoots began to issue from deep in the ship.

"Now, Captain," the Imperial told Quip. "And take your Verpine and your Sull.u.s.tan with you."

They hurried back up the ramp, Quip stopping to rap his knuckles against the deck plates. "Strap in! We're raising ship!"

Zenn Bien went directly to the c.o.c.kpit and cold-started the repulsorlifts.

Quip threw himself into the copilot's chair. "If they discover..."

The distant hoots gave way to screeching alarms. The Interdictor tumbled beneath the YT, and rending sounds could be heard echoing from the stern of the ship. A voice blared through the comm.

'''Gone to Pieces, hold your position!"

"We're under orders to launch immediately," Quip said into the headset.

"That order is rescinded. Resume your previous position..."

Quip silenced the speakers. "Punch it, Zenn! Get us out of here!"

Zenn whirled the YT around and sent her streaking through the hangar's containment field. Behind her, Luufkin staggered into the c.o.c.kpit, extending his quartet of arms for balance.

"Gravity-well projectors disabled, but we have to avoid tractor beam."

Zenn Bien glanced out the viewport at the Interdictor. "I'm worried more about those turbolasers."

The words had just left her mouth when half the starboard batteries opened with a fusillade of crimson fire. Dialing the inertial compensator to full, Zenn Bien threw the freighter into a descending tumble, rolled her beneath the Interdictor, and brought her bubbling up on the port side at high boost.

"Tractors are living to get us in lock!" Quip said.