Mercenary Politique

By Armand Banooni, Dora Furlong, and Patrick Furlong


It had already been a long day and the heat only added to the
feeling. The arena had quickly and efficiently been converted from a
fighting ring, where only hours before, gladiators fought and died to
please the crowds, to a field of pens. Lasers sliced their way
through space to divide Karella the Hutt, the host of these little
games, and her people, known Imperials, Imperial sympathizers, and
Mercenaries into their own neat separate little holding areas.

Tara strode easily through the stands. Her people were safely on
their way home, Victoria was waiting on the ship, and she was now
considering the Imperial prisoners as she went to meet her
apprentice. Three of them caught her attention Psylocke Lammashta,
Michael Cairnfell, and Sidra Roamstar. Psylocke was of particular
interest to Tara because the young force user currently had the
Emperor's keen interest. As for the other two, well, the other two
belonged to Darana, return them and Darana was in her debt. A thought
Tara liked very much.

Lon approached Tara cautiously. Even now he still searched for
another way to spring Psylocke out of this situation, but each time he
came up with nothing. It amounted to an assault on the Alliance and
he wasn't willing to do that. Not that he had anything against Tara,
but every time he spoke to her, he felt almost as if he was being
weighed, measured, dissected, cataloged, and put back together. 

He abandoned the thoughts of an alternate plan and concentrated on
the meeting about to occur. Tara Alderson was a true merc and if she
knew he couldn't pay her, there'd be no deal. He needed her help if he
was going to broker this one. His only hope of gaining her
cooperation was to appeal to the political advantage she would
have. "Lady Alderson." he called out to her retreating form.

Tara turned to see who the speaker was. Out of the corner of her eye,
she caught a glimpse of Topaz as he moved slightly to put himself in
a better position should Lon's intent be less than honorable. She
realized Topaz did this without thinking and guessed it was as second
nature to him as breathing. She returned her attention to the
speaker, "Solo." She greeted him in return. "Been awhile."

"A couple years." He nodded "I hear you you made quite a coup for
yourself in the Imperial Camp last year at Port Lansing."

She smiled wryly, "I suppose so. The pay was good."

Lon nodded. "Well the way I see it, we've got ourselves a good deal
here too."

"Oh?" Her interest was piqued. She signaled to Topaz, her body guard,
that she was going to be a bit, then sat in the nearest chair. "How
so?"

She was hooked. Lon sat down next to her, propping his foot up on the
back of the chair in front of him. "look at them down there." He
indicated the holding pens. "it's a veritable cash crop for the
Alliance. Lot's of Imperials."

Tara shrugged non-commitally, "If you say so. I don't know how much
the Alliance would gain from them really..." She let her voice trail
off.

"Tara, come on." A coy grin spread across his face, "Don't tell me
your Imperial Worship doesn't know who's down there."

'Like father, like son,' she thought to herself. "Alright." She
conceded, the unspoken truth hanging between them.

Line and Sinker in one. "Well now.." he paused for effect, "The
Alliance has a few missing personnel of their own. I've got the
Alliance wrapped up, You've got the Empire wrapped up and maybe we
could make a trade you and I."

She was suspicious. He was in this one for something other than
political niceties. Any Solo--Han or Lon always had an edge to the
situation. Either way she really didn't care. She'd been considering
this exact possibility herself. Lon was right, it was a cash crop
down there in more ways than he realized and Tara, the manipulative
creature she is, fully well intended to make good on the political
amenities this one could bring her and if, in the process, she could
learn something more about Lon Solo, all the better.

"I'll contact the Empire once I return to my ship. Meet me there in
thirty."

Lon nodded, "I'll let you know what the Alliance says then."

It was Tara's turn to smile coyly, "Just be on time Solo." 

**********

Glad to have the conversation with Tara over with, Lon made his way
from the stands back down to the field. He'd have a lot more fast
talking to do if this was going to work, and it had to.

Security met him at the entrance, hesitant to let him back in. He
requested to speak with Lt. Watkins, his local contact in Alliance
Intel. The guard spoke bri efly into his headset, watching Lon the
entire time. Lon did his best to look casual and 'trustworthy', if
there was such a thing. Getting an answer from his superiors, the
guard waved Lon forward, then escorted him into a small room just
inside the arena. Lon tried to hide his sigh of relief.

Watkins appeared through the door a short time later. His expression
was neutral as he greeted the merc. "What is it you wished to speak
to me about?"

Lon could almost tell the man was trying to remain patient so he was
brief and to the point. "I've spoken with Tara Alderson and we
believe we can broker prisoner exchange if the Alliance is
interested. I told you she was a pretty good person. I'm an
excellent judge of character if I do say so myself.

The intel agent ignored Lon's comments about character, wondering
just exactly *what* criteria a person had to meet to be considered a
'decent person' in the eyes of a mercenary. "Really?" he queried,
"I'll have to obtain approval and it may take a while to get this
through."

Lon nodded his agreement.

"Wait here I'll be back after a while." 

"Don't take too long, I don't want her to change her mind."

**********

Once in her ship Tara opened a secure channel. "Identification Alpha
9915, Tara Alderson Palpatine." She still, after several years now,
acknowledged the latter part of her name with a slight grimace. No
matter how often she said it, she just couldn't seem to get used to
it.

Several minutes later a familiar voice came through, "Tara is that
you?"

"Colonel McGee, how nice to talk to you again."

"What is it?" She inquired carefully. Being a handler to an
individual such as Tara was complicated. Sometimes the woman would
want something and other times she would give something. It was
always a balancing act. McGee could never refuse the information,
it was always useful, but every time she accepted it, she knew the
mercenary would call one in at some point in the future. Symbolic
violence is what she had come to coin this game with Tara.

"Colonel relax." She sensed the other woman's concern, "This one's on
me. I just need you to cut through some political barriers to get a
prisoner exchange done."

"Oh?" McGee questioned, very interested. 

With that the negotiations began. 

**********

Lon didn't have to wait long for Lt. Watkin's return. 

"Well someone in HQ is hot for this one. Here's the list of individuals
we want returned and the list of those we are willing to return in
exchange." Watkins didn't look absolutely thrilled by the idea. But
Watkins also wasn't all that upset about not having to process all those
prisoners into the alliance POW system.

Lon accepted the list and read it over carefully. "I'll begin
negotiations at once."

Watkins nodded, "When you return, come back through the same gate and
security will escort you back here."

**********

Ten minutes after her conversation with McGee had begun, Tara was
stepping onto the holoprojector. She glanced briefly at Topaz, whose
focus, as usual, was on his task at hand, then over to her
apprentice, Victoria. She might have made a joke and asked them to
wish her luck, but she doubted either of them would really
understand. In time Victoria might, but not yet. The young girl was
still adapting to her new way of life.

She hit record, then bowed deeply. "Grandfather," She began.
Outwardly, her voice was calm and steady, while internally she held
herself together through pure determination. Tara was never entirely
sure how the Emperor would take her admitting to him that she still
held herself as a mercenary. If she presented it in the right light,
then maybe he would not press the point. She rose from her bow and
began speaking.

"The alliance has stormed the arena games here on Tatooine. They
intend to take all Imperials present, including those who were
forced to fight against their wills, back to the Alliance. I am
technically a Mercenary so they allowed me to go free under the guild
dictates. They are, however, willing to do a prisoner exchange for
those whom they intend to hold. Lt. Col Tac Anderson and several
other rebel prisoners were named as candidates for the return of
Psylocke Lammashta and several other Imperials held here. I await
your response."

She stopped the recording and sent it on its way. 

Within moments an electronic whine broke the silence of the ship's
main room, startling it's occupants.

A familiar awesome figure appeared. Clad in his simple black robes
with the hood pulled forward, the Galactic Emperor addressed his
adopted granddaughter.


"YOUR MESSAGE WAS RECEIVED, AFTER RECENTLY 
BEING ACCOMPANIED BY AN
ANONYMOUS NOTICE OF PSYLOCKE'S CAPTIVITY 
AND A LIVE BROADCAST OF THE
GAMES ON MY HOLOVISION. THIS IS A MATTER 
OF GREAT CONCERN TO ME,
TARA.

I WILL AUTHORIZE THE ALLIANCE PRISONER 
EXCHANGE. I FULLY EXPECT YOU
TO OFFICIATE OVER THE EXCHANGE IN THE GUISE 
OF A "NEUTRAL" PARTY.
USE YOUR FINELY TUNED FORCE ABILITIES 
AT ALL TIMES.

IT IS IMPORTANT THAT YOU BE SURE PSYLOCKE 
DEPARTS FOR CORUSCANT
IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE EXCHANGE."

The holo-image faded away, but the thrill of anxiety and dread the
sound of his deep voice instilled in Tara, continued to course
through her lean form.

The ships comm system buzzed, informing them that Lon had arrived on
time. The real work was about to begin.


Go To:
Part 2
Cantina Archives
Members Only Main Page
What's New Page