Free Ylesia by Walter Jon Williams Page A

the great forward hatches swung open and whole companies of armored soldiers floated out on military landspeeders that bristled with armament.
    â€œRight,” Thrackan said as he and Dagga tried to dig themselves into the turf. “We wait till they’ve gone on to the city, and then we steal one of the transports and head for home.”
    Dagga gave him a look. “Home had better be pretty close. Those transports won’t have hyperspace capability.”
    Thrackan ground his teeth. This was
not
working out.
    The soldiers briskly secured a perimeter, and more craft whined to a landing. It looked as if the soldiers had landed in at least regimental strength.
    â€œI think we’re in trouble,” Dagga said.
    The soldiers’ perimeter had expanded as new craft landed, and troopers were now quite close. An officer with a scanner had spotted the two life-forms in the trees, and at his command a pair of landspeeders swung toward the wooded area where Thrackan and Dagga were hiding.
    â€œRight,” Thrackan said. “We give ourselves up. First chance you get, you break me out and we steal a ship and head for freedom.”
    â€œI’m with you there,” Dagga said, “right up to the point where I take
you
with me. I don’t think you’re going to have access to a weekly kilo of spice after this.”
    â€œI’ve got more than spice,” Thrackan said. “Get me to Corellia, and you’ll find I’m stinking rich and willing to share—“
    His words were interrupted by an officer’s amplified order.
    â€œThe two of you in the woods. Come out slowly, and with your hands up.”
    Thrackan saw Dagga’s cold eyes harden as she calculated her chances, and his nerves leapt at the thought of being caught in a crossfire. He decided he’d better make up her mind for her. “Darling!” he shouted. “We’re saved!” And then, as he scrambled to his feet, he whispered, “Leave your weapons here.”
    He pasted a silly grin to his face and came out of the trees, his hands held high. “You’re from the New Republic, right? Bless you for coming!” The officer approached and scanned him for weapons. “We saw those TIE fighters and we thought maybe the Emperor was back. Again. That’s why we were hiding.”
    â€œYour name, sir?”
    â€œFazum,” Thrackan said promptly. “Ludus Fazum. We were part of a refugee convoy from Falleen, got captured by the Peace Brigade and enslaved.” He turned to Dagga, who was walking carefully out of the trees with her hands raised. “This is my fiancée Dagga, ah—“ He coughed, realizing Dagga might have a warrant out for her. “—Farglblag.” He gave her a grin. “Whaddya think, darling?” he asked. “We’re rescued!”
    She managed a smile. “You bet!” she said. “This is great!”
    Dagga was scanned and came up clean. The officer gave them a searching look from under the brim of his helmet. “You look pretty well fed for slaves,” he said.
    â€œWe were house slaves!” Thrackan said. “We just did, ah . . .” His invention failed him. “House things.”
    The officer turned to look over his shoulder. “Corporal!”
    Thrackan and Dagga were marched to an open area under the guard of the corporal. The area, gouged dirt scattered with hot, crumbling yorik coral, had been reserved for captured civilians, but Dagga and Thrackan were, for the moment, its only two occupants.
    â€œFarglblag?”
she grated.
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œHow do you
spell
it?”
    Thrackan shrugged. He looked at the troopers in their white armor, ready for an advance on Peace City, and wondered what they were waiting for.
    The answer came in the form of a pair of X-wings that hovered to a stop right over their heads, not knowing the large open space had been reserved for civilians. Thrackan and