Previous Chapter Next Chapter
This story was written for the sole purpose
of entertainment. No copyright infringement or harm is intended.
The characters you know are owned by George Lucas, all others are property of the Author.
A tiny voice caught his attention. "Four to Three. Come in, Three."
Myn carefully reached for his comlink, clipped to his shirt. He managed to keep his balance as he raised the device to his mouth. "Go for Three."
"How does it look?" Kell's voice asked.
Myn smirked. "Big, square, covered in windows."
"Eeeeeveryone's a comedian. I mean how does our entry point look?" There was a brief pause. "And don't tell me 'like a back door' or you'll find a not-so-mini-explosive in your cockpit."
Myn chuckled, not sure it would carry over the comlink. They'd chosen a frequency at the very top of the devices' range, making for very good quality transmissions, in hopes that the primitive ground-based technology of this backwater world wouldn't pick it up. "It looks good. Several of our 'types' have come and gone over the last hour. They haven't been challenged in any way, and no one seems to pay them any mind, so we shouldn't look too out of place."
"Us, look out of place?"
"Yeah, there's a thought," Myn replied, watching as another individual left the three level building.
"We're getting ready to move out, then. You see the large vehicle to the left of the door?"
After slowly readjusting his position on the branch, Myn looked out over parked vehicles to the door, then to the left. Both of his eyebrows arched. "The one that says 'Imperial Foods' on it?"
"Thought you'd like that. Meet us behind it in two minutes, and we'll enter the building together and meet up with the others. Four out."
"Yeah, everyone's a comedian," Myn snorted, about to tuck his comlink into a pocket, hidden and out of his way. That was when a series of seven tones emanated from it, followed by a strange female voice.
"Bobby, is that you?"
After a couple of stunned seconds of just staring at his comlink, Myn held it up to his mouth. "Uh, no. Who're you?"
"Who're you?" was the indignant reply.
"Uh, I asked you first," Myn answered, quickly checking his wrist chrono.
"What number is this?"
"Uh, number?" Myn again checked his chrono, starting to shuffle back down his branch towards the main trunk of the tree. He was tempted to just turn his comlink off, but it would be rude to hang up on this woman, and other members of his team may need to contact him. "I'm not sure what you...whoaaah!"
Paying too much attention to his comlink, and not enough to his exit from the tree, Myn lost his grip on the branch, and began to slide around it, his back orientated towards the ground. He belatedly dropped the comlink, trying to make a last grab at the trunk, but the limb was too thick to get a good grip on it, and he suddenly knew he would follow his comlink the three meters to the ground.
Myn landed on his back with a thud, staring up through swaying leaves and branches to the sky beyond, as the tiny voice of the woman nattered on. As he struggled to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him, one thought tumbled through his mind...
This is no way for a pilot to
make a living.