Star Wars: Light Empire

Chapter 14: The Human Element

Kaelen Orso stood on the command deck of the Pathfinder, a datapad in his hand, and stared at the AI's holographic display. For the past week, he had been a silent, intense observer, absorbing the full, impossible scope of the Stray Comet Freight Company. He'd reviewed every profit-and-loss statement, every shipping manifest, and every after-action report from their high-risk runs. Valerius had watched him with suspicion; Jax had simply given him full access.

Now, it was time for their first official strategic meeting as a complete team.

"Your operation is a logistical marvel," Kaelen said, his voice holding a note of genuine, professional awe. "The efficiency is unlike anything I've ever seen. But you've been operating with a sledgehammer. Every problem has been solved with speed, firepower, or brilliant piloting." He looked from Jax to Valerius. "You've built a powerful engine, but you lack a guidance system for the universe you now find yourselves in."

"We've done alright so far," Valerius grumbled, leaning back in his chair.

"You've done spectacularly well at a very specific and dangerous game," Kaelen corrected smoothly. "But that game has limits." He turned to Jax. "You hired me to open new doors. To do that, we need to choose our first door very carefully." He gestured to the AI. "Sev, please display priority opportunity file: Gamma-Seven-Delta."

The display shifted, showing the encrypted request from Governor Aris Thorne of Atrivis-7.

Valerius read the summary and immediately shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. Political extraction? The Trade Guild? Kid, this is exactly the kind of mess I said we should avoid. It's a guaranteed blaster fight with a corporate fleet."

"On the contrary," Kaelen said, his eyes alight with a strategist's fire. "It's the perfect opening move." He began to pace the deck, laying out his analysis. "The Trade Guild is overplaying its hand. My old contacts in the Republic Senate are already looking for an excuse to censure them. Governor Thorne's evidence, delivered to Senator Organa, would be the catalyst."

He looked at Valerius. "You see a blaster fight. I see a political checkmate. The Guild's blockade is legally gray. They'll posture, they'll threaten, but they will not risk open warfare with a ship that could have connections to the New Republic. They cannot afford that kind of scrutiny."

He then turned to Jax. "The payment isn't just 'favor.' It's a foothold. Exclusive trade licenses in the Atrivis sector, under the authority of a newly reinstated and deeply grateful governor, would be a secure, legitimate source of income that would dwarf our current operations. It would make us a recognized regional power. It would give us a home."

The argument was flawless. It took all of Valerius's practical objections and reframed them as strategic advantages. This wasn't just a rescue mission; it was the purchase of legitimacy, paid for with courage and skill.

Jax looked from his seasoned, cautious captain to his new, brilliant diplomat. The final decision, as always, rested with him.

"Kaelen," Jax said, his voice calm. "Can you get them out?"

A slow, confident smile spread across the diplomat's face. "Gentlemen," he said. "I can convince the warden to not only open the prison doors, but to hold them for us while our guests walk out." He looked at the tactical map. "I just need you to get me to the prison."

The Pathfinder settled into a high, silent orbit over Atrivis-7's northern pole, using the planet's powerful magnetic field to help mask its presence. On the command deck, the tactical display showed the governor's estate and the tightening ring of the Trade Guild's private security force.

"I still don't like this," Valerius muttered, his arms crossed as he stared at the map. "Too many variables."

Kaelen, standing at the communications console, gave a slight smile. "Fear is the currency of bullies, Captain," he said calmly. "We simply need to make Commander Borlack more afraid of the consequences of his actions than he is of his employers." He turned to Jax. "Is our ghost ready?"

Jax nodded. "Sev is launching it now. A simulated Republic diplomatic courier, call sign Vigilance, will appear on long-range scanners in five minutes. Its trajectory will bring it into orbit in two hours."

"Perfect," Kaelen said, his fingers dancing across the console. "That is our clock." He took a deep breath, his entire demeanor shifting from that of a quiet analyst to a commanding diplomat. "Opening a secure channel to the commander's office on the surface now."

A holographic screen shimmered into existence, showing the face of a smug, uniformed man with a meticulously trimmed beard and the arrogant eyes of someone who enjoyed their power. "This is Commander Borlack," he said, his tone clipped and impatient. "Identify yourself."

"Commander," Kaelen began, his voice smooth as Corellian brandy. "A pleasure to speak with you. My name is of no importance; you may think of me as an independent mediator. I represent a group of concerned business interests who value stability above all things. We have been admiring your… efficiency in maintaining the local quarantine."

Borlack's expression didn't change. "I don't speak to mediators. My orders from the Trade Guild are clear."

"Of course," Kaelen purred. "And a man of your integrity follows them to the letter. But one must wonder if the Guild has provided you with all the relevant information for a situation of this delicacy."

As if on cue, a uniformed aide leaned into Borlack's view and handed him a datapad. Borlack's eyes scanned it, and his smug expression tightened into one of confusion, then alarm.

Kaelen watched the man's face, then feigned his own surprise. "Ah," he said, as if seeing the same information for the first time. "It appears a Republic diplomatic vessel, the Vigilance, has just entered the Atrivis sector. According to this alert, it's on a high-priority mission, responding to a… 'credible report of an illegal detention of a sovereign planetary governor.'" Kaelen let the words hang in the air. "A hostage situation, I believe they're calling it."

He leaned closer to his own comm pickup, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "A situation like that becomes very messy, Commander. Senate inquiries, military intervention… The Trade Guild would, of course, deny all involvement and be forced to condemn the 'overzealous local commander' who caused an interstellar incident. It would be a tragedy for a man of your ambition to have his career end over a simple misunderstanding."

Borlack was now visibly sweating. The trap was sprung.

"However," Kaelen continued smoothly, now offering the man a lifeline. "If the governor were to, say, leave his estate of his own accord within the next hour to 'inspect a faulty comms relay' at the northern pass… and if his personal transport were to experience 'engine trouble' and be discreetly picked up by a neutral, third-party freighter… well, then there would be no hostage when the Republic arrives. The Guild would be placated. And you, Commander," he smiled, "would be the hero who skillfully de-escalated a major diplomatic crisis."

Kaelen leaned back. "The choice, of course, is yours."

Commander Borlack's face on the holographic display was a mask of cold sweat and panicked calculation. The arrogant bully had vanished, replaced by a cornered man desperately searching for a way out of the elegant trap Kaelen had laid for him. He licked his lips, his eyes darting off-screen as if searching for an answer his aides couldn't provide.

"Your… hypothetical scenario is intriguing, Mediator," Borlack finally said, his voice strained. "As it happens, I will be repositioning my security forces to investigate a reported seismic disturbance on the southern continent. The northern mountain pass will have… minimal oversight for the next ninety minutes." He stared hard at Kaelen. "I trust the governor will be discreet in his geological survey."

Without another word, he cut the channel.

The silence on the Pathfinder's command deck was broken by Valerius letting out a low, disbelieving whistle. "I'll be damned," he breathed, looking at Kaelen with newfound respect. "The kid didn't just talk him into it. He made him think it was his idea."

"Now comes the difficult part," Kaelen said, his charming demeanor gone, replaced by crisp professionalism. "Getting them out."

Jax was already in motion. "Valerius, you take the Comet," he commanded. "She's smaller, less conspicuous, and her signature is already in the local flight logs. Get to the rendezvous point at the northern pass. Stay low, use the canyons for cover."

"On it," Valerius said, already heading for the exit. "What about you?"

"I'll coordinate from up here with Sev," Jax replied, turning to the main tactical display. "I'll monitor the Guild patrols and our phantom courier, the Vigilance. Kaelen, you talk the governor through it. Keep him calm and on schedule."

The operation unfolded with the quiet precision of a well-oiled machine. The Stray Comet detached from the flagship and descended into the planet's atmosphere, a tiny speck against the vast canyon lands. On the command deck, Jax and Kaelen watched its progress, their own ship holding its stealthy position in high orbit.

Forty minutes later, a new icon appeared on the tactical map. Governor Thorne's landspeeder, a small, civilian craft, was racing toward the rendezvous.

"He's on the move," Jax announced.

They watched as the two icons converged in a narrow, rocky pass. The Comet's boarding ramp lowered. Three small figures—a man, a woman, and a child—ran from the speeder and up the ramp, the woman clutching a silver data case. Seconds later, the ramp closed, and the Stray Comet lifted off, disappearing back into the winding canyons.

Borlack had kept his word. The extraction was clean.

Back on the bridge of the Pathfinder, the Thorne family was brought onto the command deck. Governor Aris Thorne was a man who carried himself with a noble bearing, though his face was pale with stress. He rushed forward, his hand extended to Jax.

"I don't know who you people are," the governor said, his voice thick with emotion as he shook Jax's hand. "But you have saved more than just my family. You have saved my world. The New Republic will hear of this. You have my word. My contact on Chandrila will be very pleased."

Kaelen stepped forward smoothly, his diplomat's grace taking over. "We are simply private contractors happy to assist a legitimate government, Governor. We are honored to provide you safe passage."

As Kaelen escorted the grateful family to their assigned quarters, Jax and Valerius stood together, watching the Pathfinder's navi-computer plot their course into the star-streaked void of hyperspace. They had done it.

Valerius turned to Jax, a look of profound respect on his face. "Okay, diplomat," he said, nodding towards Kaelen's departing back. "I'm a believer."

Jax looked at his two partners—the grizzled, loyal captain and the brilliant, silver-tongued diplomat. 'The fist, the voice, and the mind,' he thought. The pieces of his organization were finally clicking into place.