Vision of the future

He took a careful breath... and as he did so, the doubts once again returned to their uneasy sleep in the deep crevices of his mind. He was Carib Devist; and despite what anyone might say or believe, he was indeed a unique individual.

The Ubiqtorate agent was starting to wind down now, and with a flicker of private amusement Carib realized that for once the old intimidation tactic had backfired. Far from unnerving its intended victim, the tirade had instead given him the time he needed to collect his thoughts and his nerve and to prepare for verbal combat.

'So let's hear it,' the agent snarled. 'Let's hear this vitally important news of yours.'

'Yes, sir,' Carib said. 'There was an Imperial attack on New Republic High Councilor Leia Organa Solo over Pakrik Minor five days ago. It failed.'

'Yes, thank you, we know that,' the agent said sarcastically. 'Are you telling me you broke security—?'

'The reason it failed,' Carib continued, 'was because—'

'I'm talking here, Devist,' the agent snapped. 'You broke security for a story we could have pulled off Coruscant Hourly—?'

'—was because,' Carib went on doggedly, 'they were assisted—'

'Will you shut up? I'll have your skin pickled in—'

'—by an unknown alien ship,' Carib finished.

'—a Hutt's slimy—' He broke off. 'What do you mean, an unknown alien ship?' he demanded.

'I mean a ship with a completely unknown design,' Carib said. 'It had four outboard panels like the two on a TIE fighter, but the rest was definitely non-Imperial.' For a long moment the agent measured Carib with his eyes. 'I don't suppose you happened to pull any records of the battle,' he said at last, his tone challenging.

'Not of the battle itself,' Carib said, pulling a datacard from his side pouch. 'But we did get something of the ship afterward.'

The agent held out his hand. Carib dropped the datacard into it, mentally crossing his fingers. Solo had cobbled this thing together during the trip here from a pair of records he and Organa Solo had had with them in their ship. Where they'd gotten the originals Carib didn't know. And really didn't care, either. Combat, intrigue, galactic security—none of those were matters he and his brothers wanted anything to do with anymore. All they wanted was to be left alone to raise their families and tend their farms and live their lives.

And all he cared about at this immediate moment was that Solo's gimmicked record be good enough to fool this glowering bit-pusher into believing it. If it was... The agent whistled under his breath, peering at his reader. 'Tarkin's teeth,' he muttered, shaking his head. 'Are these energy readings correct?'

'That's what was there.' Carib hesitated, but he couldn't resist. 'So was it worth breaking security for?'

The agent looked up, but it was clear he wasn't really seeing Carib anymore. 'I'd say so, yes,' he said absently, keying his board furiously. 'Sure. Just watch it when you head home, and keep with the zigzag. Dismissed.'

And that was it. No thank-yous, no well-dones, no nothing. Just a petty little Ubiqtorate agent on dead-end duty at the edge of nowhere with visions of promotion dancing through his head. But that was okay, Carib knew as he headed down the corridor. His part was done now, or almost done, and Solo would take it from here. He could go back to Lacy and his brothers and sink back into the quiet anonymity that was all any of them desired.

Unless...

He grimaced as a thought belatedly struck him. Yes, the Ubiqtorate' agent back there had swallowed the bait in a single eager gulp. But that was no guarantee the military analysts on Bastion who would take the record apart would do the same.

And it was no guarantee at all that Grand Admiral Thrawn wouldn't see instantly through the scam. If he did, and if Solo was still in Imperial space at the time...

He shook his head once to clear it. No. He'd done what they wanted, and had risked his own neck to do it. What happened now was in their hands, not his. His part was done. Period. Quickening his pace, he headed toward the docking tunnel where his freighter was berthed. The faster he got out of here and back to his farm, the better.

* * *

From off to the side, the speaker suddenly crackled. 'Solo?'

Hastily, Han dropped his feet off the edge of the control board where they'd been propped and keyed the comm. 'Yeah, I'm here, Carib,' he said. 'You got it?'