TERMINAL SURRENDER [Zeke]

[Ben Merasska]

“No, no, no, no, no!” He shouted, running over to the droids operating the loading machinery. “Those go over there, and those go over there.”

His name was Ben Merasska, and his official records labelled him as a 'freighter pilot', and his ship was designated the Albatross. Though many would have laughed and substituted smuggler as his occupation, he truly considered himself a freighter pilot, and refused to call himself a smuggler, even when he was forced, more often than he liked, to smuggle things.

He worked for a large company, and he knew the boss, an indomitable woman who though intimidating, was still a very nice lady when she wasn’t angry or interested in you.

“Tell them to load those crates according to destination, not according to size,” Ben griped to a protocol droid overseeing the operation. “Not everything’s going to the same place.”

“Of course sir,” the droid said, but was cut off before it could issue the command.

“And where’s the rest of this stuff? I have passengers who’ll be arriving soon and I have a schedule to keep.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I do not know, as I do not oversee cargo distribution, only the loading process.”

Ben groaned.

“The only good part of this stop was dropping off baby food,” he sighed. “I’ll go and find out then. Make sure they load the cargo according to destination-”

“And not size, yes sir,” the droid cut him off. He was left with his finger in the droid’s visual receptors and nothing to say, but he couldn’t just let the finger drop without saying something.

“...Good,” he said finally, and stalked out of the landing pad to a desk manned by beings, not droids.

“Hey, listen, I need some cargo located...”

[Zeke]

Once, when she was a little girl, Cassandra asked Zeke why heroes in action films and games would clutch at their sides and hobble in the exact same way when injured. Zeke had shrugged and told her not to worry about it, and just enjoy the entertainment. Today, he knew the answers. After a big combat encounter like what he'd just endured with Ana'Sera Beliq and her troopers, YOU HURT EVERYWHERE! His lightsabers were safely hidden in an inside pocket of his coat; every time they bounced against his ribs, it made him wince. His right knee was trying to give out, but with his family's safety on the line, he made it behave. They'd abandoned the Sassy Wench as well; with the Imps possibly on his trail, they couldn't afford to be caught in a ship without weapons or even supplies.

The Saska family walked into the spaceport's cramped bureaucratic office. The male Twi'lek stood as they entered. "Sorry, sir, we're closing now. You'll have to come back in the morning." He got ready to move around his beaten and chipped desk to usher them out when Zeke passed a hand in front of his eyes.

"You're more than happy to stay a little late and help us," he said with a weary sigh. The Twi'lek sank back into his chair with an identical exhalation.

"I'm more than happy to stay a little late and help you," said the clerk. "So, what do you need?"

Zeke looked to his family. Carol had one hand clamped over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud, the elbow of that arm supported by her other hand to hold it in. He looked to Cassie; she was gaping. "Really?" she mouthed. Zeke flicked his eyebrows upward in a "Yeah, really" kind of expression, then turned back to his new friend.

"I'm looking for Ben Merasska and the Albatross. You know where they headed?"

[Ben Merasska]

"Attention customers. Port Security has raised the level of alert to Level 2. Please be cautious, and cooperate with Security Personnel. Thank you, and have a great day."

"You'll have to go up to level three and take it up with them, Captain Merasska," the clerk said, bringing up the information he'd wanted. "But they are delayed, and..."

She trailed off as Ben walked off, ignoring the last part of her statement.

"...There's nothing there," she finished.

---------------------------------------------

Imperial Agent Sander Veribek walked out of the holocom terminal and motioned for an officer to join him.

"Sir, I was under the impression you were leaving," the nervous man said, matching his pace.

"My orders have changed," he said. "A member of the Rebel Alliance, a smuggler, has escaped Imperial elements and fled here."

"A Rebel?" the Imperial officer scoffed. "We can take care of him easily, sir. There's no need for you to involve yourself."

"This is no normal rebel," Veribek answered. "Go through the security footage and search him out."

"Yes sir."

[Zeke]

"Captain Merasska and his ship have moved to another spaceport, a few klicks from here to load new cargo and take on passengers." The clerk scribbled the coordinates on a scrap of flimsi and handed to it to Zeke. "Have a nice day, sir."

"Well, looks like we still need the Wench," Carol sighed. "And I was so hoping that he'd have laid over here in this spaceport for the day."

"He could've been off-planet. Then we'd be super-boned," Cassandra answered tersely, looking about nervously as they walked back out into the spaceport. They reached the shuttle's short ramp right on time to hear an announcement.

"Attention customers. Port Security has raised the level of alert to Level 2. Please be cautious, and cooperate with Security Personnel. Thank you, and have a great day."

"Think they're onto us?" Cassie asked.

"They might have caught Merasska. Or else they haven't caught anyone, and this is just a blanket action to prepare them for our arrival. Which, we already have, so that means we're ahead of the curve," Zeke answered. "C'mon, let's move."

[Ben Merasska]

"I'm not kidding man, I totally managed to get that twilek dancer into bed last night," he said, holding the portable voxcomm to his ear.

Ben shifted as the lift continued to rise, trying not to look or listen to the conversation unfolding next to him.

"I'm not lying man. Totally banged her. All night long."

"Level 3. Cargo loading areas, and planetary shipping warehouses."

Ben left the lift, striding up to a terminal and typed in the information he needed, and was treated to a blinking line noting that the cargo wasn't there, and wouldn't be there until the next morning, local time.

"Attention. The spaceport is now raised to Alert Level 3. Report any suspicious activity to the authorities."

"Uh oh," Ben muttered, looking up at the ceiling. They'd be locking down the port soon, if this kept up. He needed to get out; he'd let Meorrrei know what had happened once he was safe from becoming a casualty of this lockdown, or worse, the target. "Xerxes, lock up the ship. Don't open for anything. If somebody other than me tries to get on board, power up the shields."

"Understood, Ben." Xerxes' voice echoed tinnily from the communicator in his hand. "May I inquire as to what you will be doing?"

"I've got to check up on this missing shipment. They had to have messed up the log or something."

[Zeke]

Zeke nudged the throttle on the Sassy Wench and she took off low and slow towards the port where Ben was supposed to have gone for his deliveries. He wanted to rush, really burn out the Wench's fuel and render it unusable for the short-term should the Imps get their hands on it. It was a shot-range shuttle, not meant to travel long distances. They'd used it to ship small orders simultaneously with Curvy Lady's larger ones, or to drop passengers on nearby planets while the Lady went on to do her business, but this? He'd already stretched the poor shuttle to it's limit. Refueling would take too long, and he was sure they'd find some way to track her transponder. No, best to start over. There'd always be more ships.

At the rate he was going it took nearly an hour to reach the border of the next spaceport. As soon as he was in transmission range, they received a hail.

"Attention incoming shuttle. All Foless spaceports have been placed on Alert Level 3. Please proceed to the berth indicated to be searched and detained for questioning."

"You got it," Zeke fired back. Already his mind was racing with possibilities. Come out swinging? Play coy? They'd find his lightsabers for sure; he couldn't risk hiding them on the ship and then having it captured. No, best to try something subtle. "Mind Tricks, then," he decided to himself.

[Ben Merasska]

"Sir, we've come across footage from earlier concerning the rebel in the spaceport in Fondu*."

Agent Veribek nodded. "And?"

"He made contact with a freighter pilot named Merasska, sir. Merasska is still on planet, picking up cargo and passengers."

"Anything suspicious?" Veribek asked. The officer shook his head.

"Some parts and supplies, and passengers for the Meorrrei-Koensayr Corporation. Scientists and engineers."

"Bring him in for questioning. Our rebel may be coming back to find him."

"Yes sir."

---------------------------------------------

"Kriff!" Ben sighed, staring at the piles of unloaded materials. "Is this really happening? How could this get worse?"

"Ben Merasska, Captain of the Albatross?"

He turned around, and looked into the face of an Imperial Stormtrooper.

"It's him. Come with us."

Ben whimpered and two of them grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away.

[Zeke]

Meanwhile, at the landing pad, Zeke was faced with a simple gathering of security officers and two Stormtrooper guards.

"Look, buddy, I don't mean to be rude," the lead security officer was saying, "But we gotta check you guys and your ship. There's supposed to be some kind of Rebel activity and we can't have that. Bad enough we all got called in outta dinner for this. If you'll cooperate we can be on our way sooner."

"I understand," Zeke replied, and raised one hand. "You can take my word though, and go home right now."

"Or...we could take your word, and go home right now," repeated the lead officer thoughtfully. "Whaddaya think, boys? Go home now?" There was a general murmur of assent from the security team. Already they were cranky and hungry; this wasn't a difficult trick to do, even across so many people. But the Stormtroopers were grouchy, too. They were well-fed, well-rested, and bored stiff from the day-to-day humdrum of guard duty.

"No, we're gonna check your shuttle, smart guy," one replied.

Zeke waved again. "You're gonna go check another ship," he said confidently.

"Except for the part where no, we aren't," snapped the Trooper. "Hands in the air!"

Zeke drew his lightsabers and quickly reflected the two blaster bolts back into the black, flexible joint armors of the Troopers. They went down with ragged screams and the security team scattered. "So much for that," Zeke snarked. "C'mon! We've gotta get to the Albatross. Maybe Merasska isn't swept up in all this mess." Together, the Saskas pounded off across the port.

[Ben Merasska]

"Good evening, Mr Merasska," the agent greeted, sitting down at the table. Ben didn't look up, but continued looking down at his hands, which were in binders.

"Mr Merasska, you're not in trouble," the agent began, but Ben cut him off.

"Sure seems like it," he quipped, lifting his arms and waggling his wrists, letting the binders jingle slightly.

"I only have a few questions for you, about your work, and a man you met earlier today," Veribek looked at Ben intently. "You fly a WR-542. That's a fast ship."

"My boss doesn't like me being late," Ben answered.

"Your boss? You work for Meorrrei-Koensayr Corporation, don't you? A company that does quite a bit of business with the Empire. What do you do for them, exactly?"

"I..." he paused, put off by the Agent's relaxed demeanour. "I do mainly courier jobs for them. They move people around a lot, and sometimes some pretty important things need to go somewhere fast. There's a couple other pilots like me who work for her like that."

"I see. So you don't smuggle contraband into and out of systems?"

"Not that I know of," Ben answered.

"That's interesting," the agent said, and tossed a pile of flimsis towards him. "Because this man - Ezekiel Saska - was stopped in the Neelanon system carrying a fair amount of weaponry hidden in crates of baby food."

Ben's eyes widened.

"This is a fairly serious charge here, but I think you can help me here, Captain Merasska," the Agent said. "Saska escaped the Neelanon system, and we've trailed him here, and I think it's so he can find you. I want you to help me catch this man, Captain. Do that and you may find the charges are much less than you thought, or even perhaps nothing at all."

Ben's eyes drifted down to the flimsis, showcasing him, Zeke, and his daughter standing on the pad, overlooking the transfer of the cargo.

He looked back up to Agent Veribek, and opened his mouth to answer.

[Zeke]

Zeke found the Albatross under guard. He'd disengaged his lightsabers before entering visual range of the ship and was glad for it now, but he was sure he'd be recognized by now. They needed a way to get the information without Zeke walking up. Together they huddled behind a line of boxes and barrels containing the necessary tools for quick ship maintenance and conferred.

"Cassie, go ask them where your boyfriend is," Carol suggested.

"Excuse me?" replied the daughter, indignant. "I met him for all of five minutes, and all I did was glare at him. Death glares are not date invitations, Mama."

"What she means," Zeke said testily, "Is you should go pretend you know him so you can figure out where he is. If he were anywhere around he'd be hopping about fretting over those guards. He doesn't like Imperial entanglements." Cassie rolled her eyes. "Just go!"

The youngest Saska walked out from behind their cover and found her chest had become an array of laser sights. She nervously raised her hands and approached slowly, calling out. "Hey, I'm looking for my ride off this rock! Have you guys seen the pilot for this heap? Oh, what, Captain Merasska?" Her parents traded eyerolls with each other. Trust Cassandra to go off-script.

"He ain't here! Captain Merasska has been detained for questioning! Move along."

Cassie pouted. "But!" she sputtered. "Where is he being detained? How long is it gonna take?" Puppy eyes weren't mind tricks, but it seemed to be working fine. One guard shuffled his feet nervously.

"Relax," scoffed another. "He's just in the security building. Shouldn't take long. Go to the diner and grab a bite. We'll remind him to call you or somethin' when he's done."

Cassie nodded, thanked them, and went back to where her parents were crouched and walked behind the stack. Quickly she filled them in.

"Okay, you two go hide out somewhere nearby. Come back in fifteen minutes. Hopefully by then I'll have Merasska out of the security building and we can jet out." He pecked them both and began to wind his way across the landing zone to the corner where the low, sturdy security bunker was. His family went the other way, strolling as casually as they could without looking back at him.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben gasped with pain as the Agent pulled his fist from his stomach, and without pause threw a hook into his face, making him see stars, and nothing else.

"I'm disappointed, Captain," Agent Veribek said conversationally. "Need I remind you of the charges you're facing? It could very well lead to execution."

Ben moaned into the table, not even bothering to pick his head up.

"Take him to a cell and leave him under guard," the Agent said finally. "We'll see if we can't bring our Adept friend to us."

"Adept?" the ever-present Imperial Officer asked, watching the pilot sit bonelessly in his seat.

Veribek shook his head.

"It's nothing," he said. "Take him to the cells. Let's make this visible."

[Zeke]

Zeke opened the door and approached the counter. The surly, elderly gentleman seated there made an awful, throat-clearing garble and addressed him.

"Sir, have you come to report lost possessions or lost people?" The old man's tired drone spoke of years of verbal abuse from customers and weariness with dealing with the non-personnel who entered that door.

"People," Zeke said smartly, not wanting to drag this out. "Looking for Ben Merasska, is he here?"

"Captain Merasska was detained for questioning some time ago. He's in there now, I expect."

"Well, can I see him?" Zeke asked, trying not to show too much impatience.

"Yes, sir," monotoned the wage-slave. He's over there." The old man pointed: Ben Merasska was being paraded through the security building like a trophy. Veribek had wanted him visible, and had succeeded. Zeke approached, all smiles and winning confidence.

"Gentlemen, where are you taking this man?" he asked, saving his Force persuasion for a later moment.

[Ben Merasska]

"Security business," one of the guards responded, holding up a palm to stop Saska's approach. "Step aside."

"No, I think he does have something to do with this," another voice said, and the leader of the procession stepped forward. "Drop the Captain. Here's the man we want."

Veribek looked at Saska seriously.

"You're surrounded. Be smart about this, and surrender."

[Zeke]

"Begging your Majesty's pardon," Zeke said with a wry smile, "But I wouldn't be where I am today if I had made any smart choices." The Jedi reached into his coat and drew The Last Argument of Kings, slicing the binders off Ben before the gold blade had even fully extended. He stepped aside and drew the man to a position where he could be defended. "Now, let's see if you can make a smart choice. Surrender your weapons and comms and go lock yourselves in the detention area. There is nothing you and your men can do to harm me or my friend."

[Ben Merasska]

The soldiers around them all lifted their blasters, and the Agent settled his arms behind his back.

Ben spun, going back to back with the Jedi, and gulping as a blaster barrel was pushed almost into his nose. He looked up into the helmet of stormtrooper and he paled.

"Oh, I'm afraid there is," Sanders Veribek answered, and the soldiers fired.

[Zeke]

Zeke's gold lightsaber sliced around behind himself to cut the barrel in Ben's face. The weapon's owner, frightened of having his hands removed, jerked back and didn't fire. The Jedi drew his second lightsaber and powered it on, using each weapon to reflect blaster bolts back into weapons and floorboards. Zeke stood, one weapon in hand, the other floating patiently before Ben, facing down Veribek with a smile.

"Except for the part where, no, there isn't."

Zeke pushed hard in a wave of Force energy, scattering the soldiers. He shoved against Ben's back, urging him to run, and neatly stole the blaster pistol out of the shaking clerk's hand as he rose to make a feeble attempt to stop them.

"Thank you, sir, you've been most helpful," Zeke said jauntily, escaping out the front with Ben.

[Ben Merasska]

The Agent wasn't foolish. A lightsaber meant only one thing. His eyes narrowed and focused on the Adept attempting to escape.

He smiled, and gestured. A group of people were pulled toward the two, hindering them, but not completely, and they continued to run.

Agent Veribek looked at the soldiers and security officers surrounding him and gestured to the fleeing fugitives.

"Well? Go get them!" he said, and watched as they all nodded and ran after Zeke and Ben.

---------------------------------------------------------

Ben stopped after turning a corner, and staggered off to the side, coughing and panting.

"You're a Jedi?" he gasped, looking at Zeke incredulously. "Aren't you supposed to be on the brink of extinction or something? Why do I keep running into you guys?"

[Zeke]

"Well, yes, but clearly I couldn't tell you before because you know more Jedi?" The absurdity of it! His crazy luck was--wait, not crazy luck. He'd gotten too used to thinking as an ordinary being. The Force had Its will. Zeke's eyes narrowed as he focused his command of the Force on Ben. Yes, this man was steeped in the Force, though it seemed he couldn't wield it himself. He was, on some scale Zeke couldn't imagine, important.

"Good. You can make up for that fiasco with the weapons disguised under those babyfood jars by taking me to them. Here's a blaster. You know how to work a blaster, right?" Zeke spoke all in a rush; he didn't expect his little diversion to last long, and Veribek wasn't disappointing him. The pair took cover behind a parked skiff as Veribek walked out with his troopers. The Agent's bearing was something like what you'd expect out of a father watching his children at play as he watched the troopers begin their search.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben looked at the blaster warily.

"Uh, you point the blaster at someone, and pull the trigger, right?" he said, taking the weapon gingerly in one hand. It was heavy, and it took him a moment to compensate; the last time he'd used a blaster, he'd been running from another Imperial agent of some kind.

He focused on the blaster and shunted the memory away.

He pointed the blaster off to the side, his hands slightly shaking.

"Pyew pyew, bang bang, right?"

-------------------------------------------

"No sign of them yet sir."

"Have you located Captain Merasska's ship?" Veribek asked, seemingly unconcerned.

"We have its location, and two squads of Stormtroopers are headed there now, sir."

He nodded.

"If there is anyone on that pad, pacify them, but do not kill them. Have them set up lookouts and place heavy weapon emplacements covering the door. Have them notify me immediately."

The Imperial officer frowned.

"Is that kind of weaponry necessary, sir?" he asked. "It seems a bit much for only two people, sir."

"This is no rebel agent or small time smuggler we're chasing," Veribek answered smoothly and patiently. "We are dealing with a Jedi. Any Jedi who has managed to survive this long is dangerous."

The officer still wasn't convinced completely, but the Agent's experience with Jedi and Adepts far outstripped his own. He saluted, and turned away to carry out the Agent's orders.

Veribek's mouth twitched into a smile, and he closed his hands into fists.

"Very dangerous," he said, looking at them. "Very dangerous indeed."

[Zeke]

"Yeah, pretty much," Zeke said grimly. "If you gotta fire into melee, do it. You can't hit me." Zeke squatted, his deactivated lightsabers resting lightly in his palms, and leaned back on the speeder. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, then backflipped over the parked skiff, lightsabers igniting in fountains of gold and blue color as he smoothly hacked through the laser rifles of the troopers that had been mere moments from finding them. He spun a circle, swinging his lightsabers like twin smashball bats as he swatted two more shots back to their origins. To escape meant disabling the troopers and their leader. Zeke was prepared to do so. Without the cover of darkness sneaking about was not an option. He set his resolve and went about his defense, eyes locked on Veribek.