Star Wars: Rebel Rising(69)

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chanted to herself. The Empire had simply posted her pseudonym, and she’d shown up . Saw would be apoplectic to see how easily she’d done the Empire’s bidding.

The office the Imperial took Jyn to was large, and furthermore, it had a window looking out at the expanse of space. A bright glowing star was perfectly framed in the square, and Jyn suspected it was actually one of the five planets in the system.

“Yes, I’m lucky,” the officer said, following Jyn’s gaze. “I understand why the main level of the station doesn’t have portholes, of course, but it lowers morale, don’t you think?”

Jyn shrugged in a noncommittal way.

“Tanith Ponta…” the officer said, reading the datapad in front of her. “I’m Commander Lucka Solange.”

“Why am I here?” Jyn asked. She felt stupid, and that made her angry. Also, she was talking to an Imperial officer, something that always made her want to punch things.

“You arrived on a planet hopper, Ponta Two , yes?”

Jyn nodded, one short, sharp dip of her head. No use denying it. It was public record.

“That ship was labeled irredeemable and reclassified as scrap. Before scrapped ships are processed, I inspect them. That is part of my duties here on this station.”

“I didn’t know the Empire had official duties here,” Jyn said. Also true. If she had known, she never would have come.

“The Empire,” the commander said, “is everywhere.”

Jyn had no reply to that.

“In my inspection of the remains of your ship, I couldn’t help discovering that some elements were not exactly authentic ,” Commander Solange continued. “A less forgiving person might even label your ship’s permissions and identification codes as forgery.”

Jyn waited, fear coiling around her anger.

“Can you tell me who did these…alterations?” Commander Solange said, finally sitting down in the chair across from Jyn.

“No.” Jyn bit off the word. The less she said, the better.

Commander Solange narrowed her eyes. “That is indeed a shame,” she said. “You see, I have…use for such a person and her skills. But if you cannot help me, I’ll be forced to arrest you for possession of forged documents.”

Jyn’s head spun. Commander Solange held a communicator but hadn’t turned it on. She was waiting. She knew.

“And if it was me?” Jyn asked.

“Then I would be happy to send the ship on to the scrappers and conveniently forget about what I saw on board.”

“For what price?” Jyn asked. There was always a price.

Commander Solange leaned over her desk, evaluating Jyn. “I saw the recording of your arrival,” she said finally. “I have to say, I had my suspicions that you were skilled enough to have done the forgery. It’s very good. Some bits were outdated, of course—the Empire is on to you rogues—but it was very good. And you seem young.”

It took Jyn a moment to remember how old she was, and she was surprised to realize that she’d missed a birthday. Eighteen years. Keeping track of her age seemed like such a simple thing, but she’d legitimately forgotten about it.

“But I’ve been following you. No, not in person,” Commander Solange waved her hand when Jyn looked startled. “I’ve been watching the feeds from the camera security droids. You know how to handle yourself. You seem…scrappy enough to handle the job I need you to do.”

“What is it?” Jyn asked, impatient. She didn’t like the way this commander talked, as if each word she spoke needed to be tasted and relished and a sentence wasn’t complete without dropping subtle emphasis.

Commander Solange stood up and moved over to her window, staring out into space. “I hate it here,” she finally said, more emotion in those four words than in anything else she’d said. “The people are crude savages, no one of any importance comes to this station, and it’s boring .” She turned around, meeting Jyn’s eyes. “So boring, in fact, that one is reduced to visiting the gambling halls.”

Jyn leaned back in her chair. The picture was becoming clearer now.

“I’ve fallen into a spot of trouble. I’m in a bit too deep.”

“How deep?” Jyn asked.

The commander said a number that made Jyn’s eyes go wide.

“Exactly,” Commander Solange continued. “Too deep for me to work my way out. If I don’t pay off my debts, the gambling lord will start extorting me. Or he’ll report my debts to my supervisors. I very much do not want a few misspent months on this hellish station to ruin my entire career.” Her voice grew angrier, and by the time she finished, she was actually snarling.

Ah, there it is, thought Jyn. This is what makes her an Imperial.

“I don’t see how I can help you,” Jyn said.

Commander Solange turned to her desk, ripping open a drawer and dumping a handful of credits on the surface. Jyn reached out and picked one of them up. It was as long as her finger and three times as wide, the front decorated with the words PSO’S PALACE and a silhouette of a Twi’lek dancing.

“The gambling halls all use their own currency. I don’t know why,” Commander Solange said, waving her hand dismissively.

Jyn could guess why. It was easier to spend these credits, which looked almost like toys, than real credits. And it was probably a pain to cash out, meaning it’d be simpler to stay in one gambling hall for a night than to move around to multiple ones.