[Solved] The Last Ship Out

“TK-5898, any sign of them?”

“Nothing down here, sir.”

Lieutenant Graf Metara was confident that he would locate the Rebel scum smuggling weapons out of his homeworld of Alderaan.  Although not many Alderaanians volunteered for Imperial service, he had always admired the Empire’s commitment to order and justice.  Graf had jumped at the first opportunity to enlist – someone had to tame the riff-raff of the galaxy, teach them to respect the natural order that the Empire represented.  And who better than he?  It wasn’t for nothing that he became the top cadet in his graduating class.  His natural talent and drive had secured him an officer’s commission.  And he had every intention of continuing his rise up the ranks.  He was one of several lieutenants who had been tasked with hunting down the suspected smuggling operation – but Graf was determined to beat the others to it.  Catching the Rebels that were besmirching the name of his homeworld would be a sure path to an early promotion.

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Only a few feet below where the Imperial lieutenant stood, Dannan Aldrete counted off the last few crates of blasters headed for the Alliance to Restore the Republic.  Of course, Alderaan could not publicly support the Rebels, but the Alderaanian Defense Force had secretly been sending surplus weapons and supplies for some time now, using local sympathetic smugglers – like Dannan and his wife, Qolla – to avoid scrutiny.

However, Dannan’s contact, Major Girard, had been tipped off that the local Imperial garrison commander had begun to suspect him.  Although brave, the Major would not risk the neutrality of Alderaan by continuing the operation when the chances of being caught were sharply rising.  This would be the last shipment.

“There’s no way we can get all of this into the hold of the Queen,” Dannan said. “You take her to Yavin with what’s in the hold now.  I’ll be right behind you with the rest of the shipment.”

“In what ship?” Qolla replied, worry showing on her face. “We’ll just have to come back for one more run.”

“There’s no time for that,” Major Girard called back over his shoulder. “Anything not leaving today will have to be destroyed.  There is a particularly… enthusiastic Imperial lieutenant who has been dogging our steps.  I can’t risk him finding proof.”

“The Alliance needs these weapons, Qolla,” Dannan said.  “We can’t afford to leave them behind.” It troubled him to see his wife, who was usually the first to laugh in the face of danger,  so openly anxious. He took her hands in his.  “Don’t worry about me – I’ve got a few friends who owe me favors over in Aldera.  I’ll borrow a ship for the run.”

“It’s just… I have a bad feeling about this.  I don’t think you should stay, Dannan.  Come with me, please!” Were those tears gathering in her eyes?

“It’ll be fine, Qolla.  I’ll be right behind you, I promise.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “We’ve been in worse trouble than this before, eh? I’ll come back to you – always have, always will.” 

Qolla smiled weakly, seemed to steel herself, and nodded. “I’ll see you in the cantina back on Yavin.” She quickly wiped her eyes and let out a small laugh. “Just don’t be as late as you were on Bespin.”

“Don’t worry, Qolla.  When I get there, we’ll drink like we did that night on Varykino during our honeymoon.” Dannan gave her one of those grins he hoped looked roguish.  This time she really laughed – his favorite sound in the galaxy. “I love you, Qolla.”

“I love you too, Dannan.” They parted with a kiss, hoping for a swift reunion after another successful mission.

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An anonymous tip had led Lieutenant Metara to this sector of the Alderaanian countryside.  On any other day, he would have stopped to appreciate the natural beauty of his homeworld.  Today, however, his focus was bent entirely on finding the rumored weapons cache.  The Rebels were definitely clever – but they weren’t perfect.  They would eventually make a mistake – and he would be there, ready to find it.

“Sir, I think I found something!” TB-3888 exclaimed.

A distinct footprint next to the stream was the first sign, but a splash of oil and a small nut continued the trail.

“Look sir – droids.”

Graf smiled.  He had them now.

Just then, his comlink beeped.

“ID-494, come in.”

“Yes sir, this is ID-494.  I’ve just discovered the first signs of the Rebels.  I believe I am about to locate-”

“Nevermind that – terminate the search.  You are ordered to return to base immediately.”

“But sir, I am so close-”

“ID-494, that was an order, not a suggestion.  Grand Moff Tarkin has just ordered an immediate planetary evacuation of all Imperial personnel.  Get your troops back to base.  Immediately.”

Graf scowled, frustrated that his success had been snatched from his grasp at the last second.  But refusing orders wasn’t going to win him any acclaim.  Ordering his troops back to their transport, he took one last look into the valley.  He would catch them.  Eventually.