by Max Barry

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Region: New West Indies

CIC Station

Meanwhile, Raphtalia found herself in the middle of a hornet’s best, one she would have to tread through carefully. “Actually Mr. Wambor, we have other things we need to discuss,” she said, nodding to Keel. Keel nodded back, pulling out her holopad and pressing a button. The elevator behind them suddenly shut down. Then, faster than the normal eye could see, two others of her Guard suddenly pulled out blasters, shooting both droids that had been accompanying Wambor.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Wambor’s species weren’t capable of facial expressions, but the fear in his voice was evident.

“We don’t have much time to talk,” Raphtalia said. “And I wouldn’t go for your desk either.”

Wambor apparently thought she was bluffing and the second he moved, he suddenly felt a blade to his throat. “One more inch and I promise this will start cutting through,” Rifana said darkly.

Now Wambor realized who they were. “Damn Kapteynians...what do you want?”

“What we want is simple,” Raphtalia said, lowering her hood. “You’re in possession of a rather large fleet, larger than expected and one that would certainly alarm Republic officials.”

“From what I hear, the Republic isn’t in a position to police anyone,” Wambor shot back. “And besides, why should I help you, after everything that’s happened?”

“I think you should be more grateful,” Raphtalia said sharply. “As I said, I was aware of your position but considering you were keeping out of trouble, I decided to look the other way. But I have one question though...these droids...they weren’t originally designed by the CIC, were they?”

“The ships were designed by a number of different manufacturers,” Wambor said. “But the droids themselves...were given by a third party.”

“Who?” Rifana asked.

“I don’t know, only the former leaders would know and if they haven’t told you before, I doubt theywould tell you now. So what, you expect me to just hand over everything?”

“At some point, the Empire will figure out your location,” Raphtalia said. “Even if you get away, you can’t outrun them forever.”

“And allying with them would grant you nothing, because to them, anyone is disposable,” Rifana added.

Wambor was silent for a moment. “Very well,” he finally said. Raphtalia nodded to Rifana and she let go of him. He went to his desk and took out a small holopad. “This will give you direct control. The frequency can’t be overridden so whatever you say, they’ll follow. The tactical droids will do the rest. One more thing...there’s a droid factory on Brigid that was supposedly destroyed but the foundation is still intact and it’s still giving off a signal. Unfortunately, it can’t be reactivated remotely, you’ll have to go planetside.”

“Thank you for the information,” Raphtalia said. “What will you do now?”

“For years I’ve thought long and hard about what happened with your people,” Wambor said. “I never was a fan of slavery, but I also didn’t have the backbone to just leave it all behind. I hope this will repay for what I did, or rather didn’t do.”

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