First Blood

The freighter convoy inched its way towards the hyperspace navigation buoy.  Eighteen hours into the 
flight, yet still the convoy had not yet cleared the "dead zone" around Setii., where hyperdrive and shields 
do not function.  Even worse, the surrounding radiation was a barrier to all but local radio signals.  It was 
almost as if the zone itself was designed to make those inside lose hope: it left them defenseless and alone, 
with plenty of time to realize how vulnerable they were.  Small wonder, then, that the Emperor’s Hammer 
chose this place as the site of their penal colony.

Still, there was something to be said for monotony.  For a freighter pilot, an interesting cargo run was 
usually an unprofitable one.  And this particular convoy has gone to great pains to have a mundane run--
despite the importance of their cargo, they had chosen a very light escort force.  The ships chosen for the 
mission were as far from top-of-the-line as could reasonably be found.  And they were flying along a route 
that, while not unheard of, was rarely frequented by the sort who could make a flight interesting in a hurry.

Unfortunately, luck was not with this convoy.  Or, alternatively, it was with the band of pirates who attacked 
it.  After a short battle, they had grabbed a prize far out of proportion to the effort required to obtain it.  In 
theory, they were now a very rich band.  But, as the smuggler saying goes, your cargo isn’t worth anything 
until you find a buyer.  Not only would buyers be in short supply, but the original owners would certainly be 
looking for it.

Even for pirates, this raid had become far too interesting,

*  *  *  *  *

Niemand Bijzonder checked his mail with his datapad, and found a card waiting for him, with a picture of 
Mon Mothma on the front:

"I heard you graduated from the Academy of Tactics!  Congratulations!
(Many Bothans died to bring me this information)"

Underneath was a personal note: 

"I can’t believe we made it, and I can hardly wait to get our first assignment!  I hope there’s flying 
involved, because it’d be a shame if ace pilots like us got stuck behind desks for the rest of our 
careers.  Anyway, good luck on your first real job in the Intelligence Division!

Sheila"

Nikt looked over Niemand’s shoulder.  "Is that the card Sheila sent you?  She sent me one just like it.  Well, 
except for the part in mine about how she’s madly in love with me, of course."

Niemand grinned.  "Nikt, I think you’ve forgotten the first thing they taught us in Intel: if you’re going to 
lie, make it a plausible one.  She’s too good for you, in her own mind at least."

"Fair enough.  Though we aren’t exactly the most humble guys in the galaxy, either."

"We’re Corellians, we’re graduating from the Academy with honors, and we’re going to be serving in the 
Emperor’s Hammer.  What’s there to be humble about?"

Nikt put an arm around Niemand’s shoulder.  "Good point.  Well, Agent Bijzonder, what do you say we 
head down to the cantina, set up a listening post at the bar, and try and liberate some Corellian ale from the 
bartender with a discreet 'gift' or two?"

Niemand put on a face of mock seriousness.  "Sounds dangerous, Agent Istotny.  I think we should request 
backup from Agent Figjam as well."

"All right, Niemand.  Tell Sheila to meet us down there.  You wait and see, she’s going to confess her love 
for me before we all head off on our first assignments.  Hey--what are you thinking about so hard?"

"I’m trying to decide whether to report you for obviously having a key to some of the more interesting drugs 
in the medical cabinet, or just demand that you give me a copy of the key."

"You think, I’ll drink.  Let’s go."

*  *  *  *  *
  
The Bureau Director’s office was like the director himself:  unassuming, yet still imposing, and relied on 
their apparent simplicity to put the trusting at ease while unnerving the paranoid.  For Zak Kloot, however, 
neither the man nor the office was unsettling, because he knew that his work had been exemplary, and 
therefore anything that warranted a meeting with the Director had to be very good news.  Kloot sat down in 
the chair that the Director had offered to him, and waited expectantly.

"Agent Kloot.  Let me congratulate you on yet another job well done.  Although, after hearing so many such 
congratulations from me, I’m beginning to be afraid that you’ll start to see them as a bother.  Let me assure 
you, there aren’t many agents as new as yourself who have heard from me so much.  And, most likely, 
you’ll be hearing from me much more in the future, as I’ve decided to promote you to Branch Leader, and 
assign you immediately to one of our most important cases."

"Thank you, sir.  I’ll try not to disappoint you.  What is my assignment, and when do I start?"

"May as well get started now."  The Director handed Kloot a datacard.  "That’s the long version of your 
assignment.  Here’s the short version:

About one standard week ago, a freighter convoy was captured by pirates as it prepared to leave the Setii 
System.  Aboard the convoy were prototype components for a new shield generator that the Setii research 
station had developed.  Now, as you know, Setii is hardly a common place for pirates to hit, and we had 
gone to great pains to avoid the convoy attracting attention.  Now, it’s possible that it was merely  
coincidence that pirates just happened to attack this particular convoy.  But in intel work, you learn to pay 
very close attention to coincidences.  It’s entirely possible that somebody tipped off the pirates, even 
somebody within the ID.

Now, here’s the tricky part:  we’ve got to look for this technology as hard as we can, without looking like 
we’re looking for it.  If I send out Praetorian Squadron with their guns blazing, that will only drive the 
pirates deeper into hiding, drive up the price they get for their loot, and make the buyers extra careful about 
how the deal is done.  If there’s a mole in the ID, then I can’t assign my most veteran cells for the same 
reason.  So, it falls in your lap.  To all appearances, we’re breaking in a new branch leader with a routine 
trackdown of pirates.   We’re even assigning you a few agents fresh from the academy to enhance the 
appearance of this as a training mission.

I know this is a heavy responsibility to put on your shoulders, Kloot, but I’m sure you can handle it.  This is 
your chance to shine in your new position, just as you’ve done in your assignments so far.  I look forward to 
seeing the results of you and your branch."

Zak rose to shake the director’s hand.  "Don’t worry, sir, I intend to make my branch the best in the whole 
ID.  And I’m sure we’ll be able to retrieve the shield components quickly."

As he left the Bureau Director’s office, Zak’s excitement became harder and harder to contain.  Finally, 
about twenty meters down the hall, his emotions bubbled over and he jumped up to touch the ceiling.  
Quickly, however, he regained his composure, and began to think about how he could make good on his 
promise to have the best branch.  He knew it was just a matter of time before his insight would kick in to 
lead him along.  Although he was not Force-sensitive, he had learn to trust his inspirations just as he 
imagined a Jedi would with the Force.  They’d guided him well so far.  His career, although brief, was an 
unbroken string of successes so far, largely due to the certainty his insights had given him that his 
investigations were on the right track.  Once he’d been pointed in the right direction by his hunches, it was 
only a matter of time and hard work until he got what was needed.

Surely this case would be no different.  He’d review the data the director had given him, and the truth would 
jump out at him like it always had so far.  After that, it would take a week or two of planning, and he’d be 
ready to send his agents--*his* agents!-- out to begin the hunt for the missing shield technology.  With any 
luck, he’d find the traitors in the ID responsible for feeding information to the pirates, as well.

*  *  *  *  *

Niemand was just getting settled in to his bunk on the Relentless when he received a summons from his
commander, asking him to report to the flight deck.  Noticing that nobody else in the squadron appeared to 
be headed in that direction, he assumed that this meant he was going on an Intel mission rather than one for 
the TIE Corps.  As he changed into his flightsuit, he idly wondered how Nikt was doing on the Colossus, 
and why Shelia hadn’t written for a while.  Eventually, though, the pre-mission adrenaline rush drove all the 
other distractions from his mind as he entered the hangar to receive his assignment.