Star Wars: Life During Wartime

Claustrophobia, part 1

by Loren Rhoads

Raena Zacari sipped from the steel mug, intent on the man with muddy green eyes who sat nearby. The Force warned her that their paths would soon intersect ‑‑ for the worse. She didn't know what to do about that. She didn't dare act preemptively and draw attention to herself.

She wished the alcohol made her feel better, as it had once. She wished she could find a safe place to sleep. She wished she was far, far away from here, wherever it was. Draining the mug, Raena leaned back against the wall to rest her eyes.

She woke suddenly, to find the jade‑eyed man standing over her. She drew the pair of stone daggers from her sleeves without really thinking about it.

He easily pinned her wrists to the table. "I'm Sano Tocneppil," he confided. Even up close, Raena could barely hear him over the noise of the bar.

Before he could say more, she blurted, "I won't go quietly."

Amused, he released her wrists. "Put the knives away, Raena. You don't need them."

She noticed the unhealthy interest two stormtroopers had fixed on them. "You've attracted attention," she whispered, slipping the knives into their sheaths. If the stormtroopers came over, she'd need her hands free.

The spacer glanced casually over his shoulder to wave at the waitress, then slid onto the bench beside Raena. Before she could react, Tocneppil hauled her onto his lap. "Hide your face," he hissed. "They're coming over."

Then Tocneppil swept her backward into a kiss that made her face burn.

Over the spit of a translator, one trooper asked, "Exactly what sort of business are you conducting here, spacer?"

Raena swung her straight black hair forward and put a hand over the silver medallion she wore as Tocneppil smiled up at the stormtrooper. "She's from Hell's Belles, worth more than both of you get paid in a year. I've been saving for this a long time."

Under cover of her cloak, Raena slid a hand toward her lightsaber.

"You don't look like the kinky type," the white suit told Tocneppil, "but it was a nice bluff." His blaster's muzzle leveled at Raena's head. "Now, if you'll come with us, Zacari..."

Green flared out from Raena's right hand, slicing upward through the table. The lightsaber bit into the powerpack of the stormtrooper's blaster. The powerpack discharged, spilling livid fire down the soldier's armored forearm. In scant seconds, the energy ate through the armor and started on the flesh beneath.

The other soldier, using his comrade's writhing body as a shield, pulled a blaster rifle into firing position.

Raena crooked her fingers. The rifle began to whine as the power surge built. The stormtrooper heaved his weapon toward the doorway and dropped to the bar's greasy floor. The other tavern patrons followed his example.

Drawing up the hood of her black cloak, Raena returned her saber to her belt and stepped carefully over the fallen bodies. The blaster fell silent when she left the bar.

Her thoughts spun, cursing. They must have rein­forcements nearby, for only two of them to attempt to capture her. They must have considered her too drunk to be dangerous. She shook herself angrily and tried to sober up.

Tocneppil caught hold of her sleeve. "Follow me."

The chill night air improved her mutinous stomach, but not her mood. Although the top of her head barely cleared his breast pocket, Raena knew she could take Tocneppil. Her fingers twitched, close to her saber. The movement was not lost on him.