Star Wars: The Last of the Jedi, Volume 9 (8 page)

They arrived at the spaceport in a driving rain. They had already been cleared while onboard the luxury class cruiser and were immediately whisked aboard a private air shuttle with a uniformed
pilot. As soon as they were seated he pressed a lever and a tray slid out with a variety of refreshments.

“Help yourselves,” he said. “We’ll be at Bank Niro Eleven in twelve point two minutes.”

Clive leaned back against the cushy upholstery. “I could get used to this. Hey—I’m
already
used to it.”

Astri looked tensely out the window at the streaming rain. “Being rich is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Oh, that’s right, you were married to a politician,” Clive said. “Must have been an easy life.”

“Easy,” Astri repeated. She turned her dark eyes on Clive and gave him a look of such sadness that it stopped the jest on his lips.

They said nothing for the remainder of the ride. They sped over an icy gray sea, so vast they couldn’t see the edges of it, and headed for a cluster of tall buildings, each with a
differently colored spire at the top.

“Your meeting is in Building Yellow,” the driver said. “An escort will be at the landing platform. Have a pleasant stay.”

He piloted the craft to a smooth landing on a landing platform under a canopy. Not a drop of rain touched them as they exited. An escort waited, a tall, angular woman in a long white tunic. She
inclined her head.

“Mr. and Mrs. Telstarr,” she said. “Herk Bloomi is expecting you.”

She led them to a turbolift and it rose swiftly. Clive looked at the levels flash. It stopped on level three hundred and ten.

They stepped out to a panoramic view of silver lake and gray sky. Up here the rain had turned to hardened crystals that tapped on the transparisteel. They were led to a plush couch and left
there. The air was cold and Astri shivered.

“I don’t like this place,” she said. “There’s a bad feeling here.”

“It’s the feeling of those who have too much and want to keep it all to themselves,” Clive said.

Moments later a plump, fastidious older man entered. His bald head shone and his boots gleamed with polish. “Mr. and Mrs. Telstarr. Pleased to meet you. Herk Bloomi, director of new
accounts at Bank Niro.”

“Pleased to meet you, mate. We’re looking for a safe place to stash our considerable fortune,” Clive said. “Just what you like to hear, eh?”

“Just a moment. I’ll activate the privacy booth. Our clients feel more secure that way.”

He waved his hand over a sensor and curved transparent walls lowered around them, encasing them in a small room within the room. He pressed a button and the walls acquired a shimmer.

“We can see out but no one can see in. And this blocks surveillance devices. Complete privacy, but we should be brief,” Herk said.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Astri said. “Keets Freely said that you’d agreed to help.”

“I am a banker,” Bloomi said. “A banker believes in certain things. The sanctity of wealth. The right to privacy. I don’t agree with what the Empire is doing. The
financial future of the galaxy depends on the right of the wealthy to protect their accounts. We are now asked to hand over details of deposits and withdrawals on a weekly basis to an Imperial
investigator.” He shuddered. “It’s a terrible thing.”

Clive couldn’t believe it. The Empire was smashing whole societies and this guy was worried about some fat rat’s pile of credits?

Astri shot him a look that told him to be quiet. She leaned forward and asked softly, “So you’ll help us?”

He licked his lips nervously. “Keets said that you needed details on only one account….”

“Only one. It will help us enormously,” Astri said. “You’ll be doing a great service to the galaxy.”

“The Empire’s disregard for rules offends me,” he said. “That’s the only reason I would violate a client’s privacy…and you say that you are trying to help
this person….”

“Absolutely, mate,” Clive said. “It’s life or death. And money.”

“All right then.” Bloomi pressed a button on his armrest and a small datapad slid out. He tapped the keys. “Yarrow Industries moved their accounts offworld near the end of the
Clone Wars.”

“Who moved the accounts?” Clive asked.

“At first, Evin Yarrow, the chief officer of Yarrow Industries. After his death, his daughter Eve completed the transfer. It was under Imperial order. That happened to many of our clients
around that time.”

“So even though the Empire moved the account, she still controlled it?”

“Oh, very much so. She asked that we key the Yarrow account to numbers instead of names. We also wiped all evidence of ties to Acherin.”

“Is the account still active?” Astri asked, even though she knew the answer.

“Oh, yes. Regular payouts.” Bloomi checked the screen. “As a matter of fact, the payouts have been increasing of late.”

“Where do the credits transfer to?” Clive asked.

“A numbered account on Revery. Do you know the planet? Many of our clients have homes there.”

Clive nodded. He’d never been there, but he’d certainly heard of Revery. It was a noted haunt for the super-rich. It was known for its beaches and mountains…and also for its
privacy.

“Can you get us Eve Yarrow’s coordinates on Revery?” Clive asked.

“No,” Bloomi said, his head bent. “No, that’s not accessible. Addresses are strictly private.”

“But you said that the Empire violates the privacy of your clients,” Astri said. “That they cross-check numbers with names…so if they do that, you must have the information
in your files.”

Clever girl,
Clive thought.

“I told you, there’s only so far I can go,” Bloomi said. He raised his head. Clive saw fear in his eyes. “I gave you the planet—isn’t that enough?”

Astri hesitated. “Suppose we were clients of yours, and we needed a moment to confer? Couldn’t you step out of the privacy room and leave us for a moment? And maybe forget to close
the datapad?”

The decision weighed in his eyes.

“If we promise to never ask you for information again,” Astri added.

Clive wanted to lean on the guy, but he knew it would be a mistake. Finally Bloomi pushed himself off the couch with his balled fists. “I, uh, need to check on something.”

He pressed a button and the transparent wall slid back. Clearing his throat nervously, he slid out. The wall slid back.

Astri quickly revolved the datapad so she could see it. She clicked on the keys. “He left the coded files open to his security code. Good man. Here’s the transaction list…if I just
jump to the numbered file contact info…yes,” Astri murmured, satisfied. “Memorize these coordinates.” Softly she read out the numbers.

Clive nodded. “Got it.”

Astri looked out. The room was empty. “Well, as long as I’m here….” She clicked a few more keys, searching.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. Anything out of the ordinary. I—”

Suddenly Clive saw Bloomi enter the room with several Imperial officers. “Close it,” he said softly, even though he knew they couldn’t hear.

Astri quickly shut the datapad as the wall rose.

There was now a sheen of perspiration on Bloomi’s high forehead. “Mr. and Mrs. Telstarr, we have a security check. Strictly routine.”

Clive admired Astri’s coolness. Posing as a rich woman, she put on an irritated look. “Do they know who we
are
?” she hissed at the banker.

“Strictly routine, madam,” Bloomi answered. Clive noted that his hands were shaking. “It will take only a moment.”

“Now, angel hair, let’s not hold up these gentlemen,” Clive said. “This is the price we pay for a secure galaxy. Here you go, sirs.” He handed over his ID doc and
motioned for Astri to do the same.

With a slight pursing of her lips, she did so.

Clive waited while the lead officer scanned their docs through his datapad. He wished he could dump a bucket of ice water on Bloomi’s head. The bloke was now sweating profusely, his collar
damp and the few strands of hair he possessed now plastered to his scalp.

Astri waited with the air of a woman who did not like to wait. Her training as a Senator’s wife obviously came in handy.

The check went on for too long. Clive saw the moment the Imperial officer registered that something was amiss.

“If you’ll wait here for just another moment,” he said.

“Our business is concluded,” Astri said. “We were just leaving.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to insist.” The officer’s tone was still polite. He couldn’t afford to alienate them if they really were the fabulously wealthy
Telstarrs.

Which they weren’t. Maybe the real Telstarrs had noticed that someone was using their ID docs. Even though Curran had used his best contact for the docs, you could never trust the black
market completely.

They were in trouble.

The officers moved off to confer. Probably waiting for a superior to tell them what to do.

“Do you think they know?” Bloomi wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Do you think so?”

“Do you have a cruiser with a hyperdrive?” Clive asked him in a low tone.

“Of course. In my business you need the best…wait a moment. You’re not suggesting….”

“Give me the security code. We’ll try to get it back to you if we can. Sometime.”

“You can’t just…leave!”

“I’m afraid we have to. In another minute, that officer is going to get an order to arrest us.” Clive kept a pleasant smile on his face and leaned back on the couch as though
he didn’t have a care in the world.

“If that happens, they might arrest you, too,” Astri said. “But if you give us your cruiser, we’ll make it look like we stole it from you. You can claim
innocence.”

“Just don’t tell them who we were investigating, no matter what,” Clive warned.

Bloomi wrung his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Look natural,” Astri said through her smile. “Tell me the code.”

He told them the code they’d need and where to find the speeder. “But how are you going to get to the turbolift?”

“Leave that to us.”

“You’re not going to use blasters, are you?”

Clive rose smoothly. “My advice? Duck.”

“Let me go first,” Astri told him, and before he could protest she walked toward the officers.

“This is absurd,” she said. “Our liner is about to depart. I demand to see your superior officer!”

“We really must be going,” Clive said, taking Astri by the elbow.

The officer stepped forward. “Sir, you can’t go—”

They kept moving toward the turbolift. The officer was nervous now. There was still a chance that the ID doc confusion was just a snag in communications. He was reluctant to take responsibility
for attacking them.

“We’ll be available at the spaceport,” Clive said. “We’re on the luxury liner
Iridescence
.”

“We can clear up any confusion before departure,” Astri said. “Send your superior to our stateroom.”

Clive closed the remaining distance to the turbolift and hit the sensor.

The officer finally realized he had to do something or risk a long term as a security officer on a mining planet. He drew his blaster. “Stop right there.”

“Don’t be silly,” Clive said, taking a step back toward them. “I’m sure we can work this out….”

The turbolift opened.

Clive and Astri drew their blasters. They fired at the lights overhead and the sensor suite that controlled the transparent partitions. The partitions descended all at the same time. The
officer’s blasterfire went awry. It pinged off the transparent walls and ricocheted around the room.

Astri and Clive jumped into the turbolift. It descended swiftly.

“We have maybe a minute before they figure this out,” Clive said. “Be prepared to run.”

They burst off the turbolift as it opened onto the private landing platform. They found Bloomi’s cruiser parked near the lip of the platform. Clive jumped in. Astri blasted the security
console next to the cruiser.

“They won’t be able to tell we had the code,” she said. “Bloomi might escape detection that way.”

Stormtroopers suddenly pounded through the entrance. Clive powered up the engines as Astri somersaulted away past the worst of the fire, jumped up on the back of the cruiser, and scrambled for
the open cockpit. “Go!” she screamed above the sound of blasterfire.

She leaped in the cockpit, still firing, as he pushed the engines. They screamed out into the sky. Clive hit the upper atmosphere and then space. He could see Imperial fighters heading after
them. Cannonfire streaked toward them.

“Hyperspace coming up,” he said. “Hang on.”

In a rush of stars, they evaded the fighters.

“That was close,” Clive said.

“Can we trust Bloomi not to talk?” Astri asked, tucking her blaster back in her belt. “If he does, we’ll find an Imperial attack ship as we come out of hyperspace at
Revery.”

“Do I trust Herk?” Clive shook his head. “No. All they have to do is show him a picture of a torture droid and he’ll cave. But maybe they won’t ask him the right
questions. Maybe they’ll just assume we were your ordinary bank robbers.”

“We could always go back to Coruscant,” Astri said.

They exchanged a look.

Astri leaned forward. “Onward to Revery,” she said.