[Short Stories] - [Gamer] - Rebel Bass (Kathy Tyers), Star Wars - Books And Short Stories
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Star WarsGamer MagazineN 6Rebel Bassby Kathy Tyers###############################################################################Standing at one end of a ten-vehicle speeder barn, Ryley Ancum folded both arms around the neck of his bass vye. He listened closely as a slow, dusk-tempo ballad replayed through Hannis D'lund's expertly tweaked touchboard. Ry, Hannis, and their friend Erik Lauderslag had formed the band, Far Cry, three seasons ago.They weren't just "good for two sixteen-year-olds and a seventeen." If Ry knew anything about dusk music - and this year he'd made dusk music his life - then they were good. Unqualified.Now if they could just get this offworld gig, without alerting any Imperials to Ry's contacts in the Alliance underground.Dark eyes, deeper than starlight Warm thoughts caress my soul...Ry squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the vye against his chest, and tracked the bass line he had just recorded - not only for its musicality, but for the first two notes of each measure.He no longer double-checked in terms of, How long is the first note? Does it move up or down in pitch, and how long is the second note by comparison? With practice, those thoughts had become second nature, like reading letters off a page. Now, when he closed out the music - which wasn't easy, because Erik had written a gettingly good song - he heard letters and breaks transmitted in bass code. His mind gradually formed words hidden in the playback of "Dark Eyes, Warm Thoughts"Ten kilotons [strategic metal] shipping Corellia next month. Rumor new warship project. Feeling as if he were emerging from a trance, Ry opened his eyes. His friend Hannis sat on a stool near the touch board...a misnomer, since it wasn't necessary to touch the instrument at all. Thick-set and muscular, with blond hair that dangled over his eyes, Hannis was the group's eldest member."Good bass line," he said as the song ended. "Gettingly ragged."Ry shrugged."Thanks," he said, but inwardly he was delighted. Hannis was an expert at all things electronic, but Ry hadn't told him or Erik about the intelligence he hoped to pass to a local cell of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. If Hannis and Erik thought ofthe bass line as musical - as gettingly ragged - then his camouflage was perfect.A gust of wind rattled the barn's main door. Ry flinched, then stroked the neck of his bass to cover it. He really didn't think there was any danger that Imperial enforcers would storm in and arrest them, not even if they sat and listened to a performance. His former bass teacher, Tet Tramys, had invented the bass code. It was only used in the Six Local Systems, and only by one small intelligence cell.That didn't keep him completely calm. He didn't mind a little adrenaline, but he did know that enemies of the Empire sometimes disappeared.Erik, Ry's tallest classmate, lounged on a small repulsor "throne" in the midst o f his percs and crashers. He hadn't finished muscling out yet, but he could twirl a stick with the best of them, and every song he turned out got better than the one before."Ragged," he agreed, echoing Hannis's praise. "And I like the synth, Hannis."Erik stretched out one long hand and slid a stick along the rim of a suspended crasher. The brass disk rang sweet and low."Think Keth Beamis will buy it?" he asked."Oh yeah." Ry unstrapped his vye and set it against one wall of the speeder barn. His guardian had ordered several aides to clear the barn so Far Cry could practice inside, but it still smelled like exhaust. This was the first time Ry had actually found anything important enough to relay through the scheduled Alliance scout. He was eager to prove his worth, both as snoop and as relay. Tet Tramys had recruited Ry shortly after last circuit's talent competition, and Ry felt that watching for "real" information was giving him a better education that he was picking up at tech-ed school.This also gave him a chance to swing back at the bureaucracy that had lured his parents offworld."I'm actually amazed," said Hannis, switching the touchboard over into rest mode by waving his left hand. A force field sprang up over its surface, repelling dust motes that might damage its delicate circuitry."We've hardly had two paying gigs all season. How did this Imperial talent scout hear about us?"Ry shrugged."I applied."And he's had me on his scout list ever since he left Tuttin Iv. It's about time I found something to send!"They need acts for the SLS officers' club circuit," he added. The Six Local Systems had one Imperial Governor, who happened to be Ry's legal guardian. Ry's parents, low-ranking Imperial servants, had wanted him to finish tech-ed school here.That still jagged him.The Governor's wing of the Admin Center had all the amenities, including this speeder barn, but Ry still felt as if Tendis and Jioie Ancum had abandoned him. When career advancement called, they left Tuttin IV. His mother had told Ry he'd understand someday.But that line of thought only led into an asteroid belt of frustration and pain. He braked it."From the top," he said. "We want this perfect."Hannis grinned, and in that moment - for the first time-Ry realized he could be putting his friends in danger without their knowledge. He needed to tell them about the messages they were secretly passing. They'd understand. They didn't like the Empire any more than he did.Not yet, he told himself. Maybe after the audition.***Two days later, performing for real, Ry slid his hand down the bass's narrow neck, finishing the song with a deep slide. He held the bottom note long enough to punch it a few times with his right elbow, over the FX spot, then jerked his head. Erik, watching for that cue, slammed the tenor perc with a final riff. Hannis's hands froze in mid-dance over the touchboard. Tuttin Tech-Ed fed a large student body in the mess hall where Keth Beamis had decided to hold auditions.With its multicolored dining furniture pushed to one end, this hall mimicked the acoustics of a midsized auditorium.Keth Beamis laid his data pad on a table."Good," he said.Beamis wore a drooping mustache and sported a blond ponytail, worn low at the nape of his neck. Ry didn't know much about him, beyond the fact that he gathered intelligence for the Rebel Alliance...and that he had a good ear for all styles of contemporary music: Core drive, minga, flaunt - and dusk, Far Cry's specialty."How long you been playing together?""Three seasons." Ry spoke up, awed to finally meet this man that Tet had mentioned with such respect. He added, "Tet Tramys help us put together our first cover arrangements."It couldn't hurt to remind Keth Beamis of their mutual contact."Like your sound." Beamis's long nose and high forehead made him look like a Core World aristocrat. "Good balance, and surprisingly mature for your age. D'iund, I hope you stick around for a while after you graduate. Don't go off and leave these two. I think you might qualify to do some full-time performing in the very near future."Hannis bobbed his head, letting hair flop into his eyes. He cracked his knuckles over his touchboard, a gesture that meant he was thoroughly pleased.Erik clutched his perc sticks in one hand and held them against his pale green shirt."Do we get the job, then?"Beamis smiled wryly."It's too early to tell, since I've still got other systems to visit. But I think you've at least earned a final audition at the home base on Beltrix. That's assuming all your families will let you travel.""Yes!" Erik slammed a crasher.Hannis grinned. Beltrix wasn't far, but Erik had never been off Tuttin IV."Best clear the, uh, stage."Beamis made a part-the-waters gesture with both hands, glancing at the tables and seats stacked along the near wall. Behind the piled furniture, Ry could see bits of the mural some previous class had painted, portraying Emperor Palpatine striding from planet to planet, approaching cratered gray planets and leaving a wake of beautifully developed, fertile, wealthy worlds as his New Order spread. Too bad things hadn't actually turned out that way."There's another band waiting to set up," Beamis added."Whoa." Erik glanced at the wall chrono and grabbed the tenor perc array. "I'm late for smashball practice. Help me pack these up, guys."Ry dropped his bass in a soft case and started unclipping Erik's crashers. I'll tell them tomorrow, he decided.After they finished loading everything onto Hannis's landspeeder, Ry meandered back into the school mess room. Beamis still sat at his table near the embarrassing mural, fingering his mustache as an older band played. Ry got a closer look at the musicians and half-smiled. This was a b'ssa nuuvu group, with the traditional fizz, kloo, bandfill, and ommni instrumentation. The muscular kloo horn player rocked from side to side, swinging his horn in front of him. Ry wondered if b'ssa nuuvu players, too, slipped out of reality into a space-time state where only their music existed.And now Ry recognized him. Onjo Fegel had dined at Governor Shran Etison's table, which made sense, since Governor Etison was a b'ssa nuuvu fan. Etison seemed determined to give Rya proper social education... and maybe convert him to his own musical tastes.Life had been different before his parents left. He'd thought he got along well with them, better than nearly any of his friends and their elders.The chairs behind Beamis were vacant. Ry slid into one and slumped down, bracing both feet against the seat of another chair.After Beamis shooed Onjo's group offstage, two black-uniformed Tuttin System Security Force officers pushed into the ...
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