The Old Republic_ Fatal Alliance Part 18

Escape.

The hexes had been trying to escape.

So where were they trying to escape to?

Home.

But how did they know where home was?

The answer to that question burst into her mind with crystalline clarity.

The navicomp isn't the only map.

Ax was moving, circling the ruin until she found the path that the two escaping droids had taken. No one stood in her way until she reached the first of the bodies. It was cordoned off by Gamorreans, and she let them be. The Jedi had made a real mess of that hex, spilling its guts out in a mess of silver and red. The second, she hoped, would be in better condition.

It, too, was cordoned off, but she could see through the guards that the body was intact, tangled up in a net like an animal caught in a trap.

Perfect, she thought, bringing her lightsaber into play.

When she had the corpse safely slung over her shoulder, all she had to do was leave. That was accomplished as easily as walking through the palace to the s.p.a.ceport, where the Imperial shuttle awaited her pleasure. Palace security had been tightened in an attempt to stop anyone from leaving. The attempt was doomed to failure.

Two armed Imperial guards stood at attention by the air lock's inner door. They saluted as she stepped through.

"Any problems?" she asked them.

"There was a guy sniffing around the Mandalorian's s.h.i.+p before it took off, " said one.

"And some nonhuman sc.u.m trying to get in here, " said the other. "We sent him packing. "

"Very good. "

She strode confidently up the ramp and into the c.o.c.kpit, where the pilot sat waiting. He took in her dusty, battered appearance but didn't remark upon it.

"We're leaving, " she said. "Advise Darth Chratis of our imminent rendezvous. I want a droid tech on hand the moment we dock. "

"Yes, sir. But what about the envoy?"

"He's no longer with us. "

The pilot nodded uncertainly, obviously comparing his standing orders with those he had just been given. A Sith always outranked a superior officer. That was the only conclusion available.

While the repulsors warmed up, Ax took the dead hex and stored it in the secure hold that had been set aside for the navicomp. This cargo was no less precious. The good thing about a droid was that, although dead was indisputably dead, memory took time to fade. With the right expertise, the location of the mystery world could be extracted from the data stored in the carca.s.s, and her success would be a.s.sured.

A warm glow filled her, part relief, part pride, part exhaustion. She was looking forward to sitting down. But there was something she had to do first.

The shuttle was lifting off when she returned to the c.o.c.kpit. She gazed through the viewports at the s.p.a.ceport and its minuscule cl.u.s.ter of s.h.i.+ps.

"Which s.h.i.+p did the Republic envoy arrive in?"

"That one, " said the pilot, indicating a stubby, fat-nosed craft resting on four wide-s.p.a.ced legs.

"Destroy it, " she said.

"Yes, sir. "

The shuttle's cannon fired, strafing the back of the defenseless s.h.i.+p. It burst into a ball of flame so bright it outshone the sun.

Ax smiled in satisfaction as the palace's scarred roof receded into the distance. With any luck, she thought, that was the last she'd ever see of Hutta.

CHAPTER 20.

s.h.i.+gar had seen the s.p.a.ceport on plans of the palace, but hadn't been there before. He moved quickly and carefully through the corridors of the palace, counting corners and noting landmarks while avoiding guards and security cordons. Getting lost or pinned down was the last thing he needed. Stryver would have farther to go but he knew the layout better. If there was going to be another confrontation, s.h.i.+gar wanted to have the advantage.

Also on his mind was Larin's well-being. Again he debated the wisdom of bringing her to Hutta. She had been a great help, and good company, too, but now she was hurt, possibly maimed, and that made her future prospects even grimmer. He swore to make sure her hand was properly tended, but was that enough? Had the kindness he had a.s.sumed he was doing for her turned into an intolerable cruelty?

He was afraid of what his Master would think when she saw where his judgment had led him.

All the more important, then, to succeed with Stryver. The entire palace was in an uproar, which was to be expected after explosions in the lower levels, a fight in the security air lock, rogue droids running wild through the corridors, and the multilevel collapse Stryver had engendered. Conflicting alarms overlapped wildly, creating a head-jangling row that s.h.i.+gar did his best to ignore. He could only imagine how Ta.s.saa Bareesh was taking it.

The s.p.a.ceport guards were on high alert. s.h.i.+gar plucked a sentry from his regular patrol and used the Force to persuade him into revealing the command structure of the emplacement. There had been enough killing already that day. Besides, any evidence of a struggle would alert Stryver to an ambush.

Encaasa Bareesh was a junior nephew of the palace's matriarch. He oversaw the security detail from an office two floors away, and was notorious for only occasionally glancing at the cam views. It was a simple matter to convince Encaasa that a completely unrelated crew member wanted to board their s.h.i.+p, but had misplaced their clearance code. s.h.i.+gar imagined the indolent Hutt wearily slapping his fat fingers on the right controls and then settling back into his hammock. Not even a palace-wide security alert could ruffle him.

The main entranceway to the s.p.a.ceport slid open. s.h.i.+gar walked through, watching behind him for any sign of the Mandalorian. None, yet. The doors closed, leaving him alone in the circular disembarkation area.

s.h.i.+gar had asked the guard which berth the First Blood had been a.s.signed to, and he headed straight there. The s.p.a.ceport's umbilical door was open, revealing the gray skin of Stryver's s.h.i.+p at the far end. s.h.i.+gar wasn't so foolish as to go anywhere near that inviting portal. It would be b.o.o.by-trapped for certain.

Instead he waited nearby, in full view of both the First Blood and the s.p.a.ceport entrance, with his lightsaber inactivated but held tightly at the ready. Stryver had to come for his s.h.i.+p sometime, and s.h.i.+gar would be prepared.

He emptied his mind of all concerns-every worry about Larin and his mission, every ache and pain-and stood poised and ready for action.

The sound of repulsors activating broke him out of his trance. One of the s.h.i.+ps was warming up its engines for liftoff. He circled the disembarkation area to identify which one, but the sound wasn't coming from any of the closed air locks. It was coming from Stryver's berth.

That surprised him. He had a.s.sumed Stryver was traveling alone. There could, therefore, be no one inside his s.h.i.+p to warm it up for him. Either s.h.i.+gar was wrong on that point, or Stryver had activated it by remote.

The repulsor whine continued to rise in volume. This wasn't just warming up. The s.h.i.+p was about to take off.

Cursing under his breath, s.h.i.+gar abandoned subtlety. Approaching the s.h.i.+p's outer air lock, he quickly examined it for weak points and found just one. The door was keyed to Stryver's biometric signs-height, breadth, proportion of limbs, and so on-but it also featured an override, just in case Stryver was ever grievously injured in the course of a mission. If he lost a major limb, for instance. That override could be sliced into by someone clever enough.

s.h.i.+gar wasn't as good a slicer as Larin, but he had seen this kind of trick before. Mandalorian s.h.i.+ps had been Jedi targets ever since the Great War, and he had been taught over and over again the best way to disable them. Working quickly, he tapped a series of codes designed to reset the override function back to a commonly used default. When he typed in the default, the door slid open.

Not a moment too soon. The repulsors were at screaming-pitch and the s.h.i.+p was hovering lightly on the ground. In another second, it would've been high above the palace.

s.h.i.+gar leapt lightly into the air lock and was swept upward with it. The moment his boots touched the floor, however, a secondary security system kicked in. Powerful electric shocks coursed through his body, sending his muscles into irresistible spasms. He fell onto his side, unable even to cry out. His jaw was locked open in a silent scream.

The autopilot raised the s.h.i.+p straight above the s.p.a.ceport and adjusted its trim. s.h.i.+gar felt himself rolling toward the open air lock, but couldn't move a finger to save himself.

The electric shocks ceased the moment he cleared the air lock. That was something to be grateful for as he fell like a stone to the roof below.

How long he was unconscious he didn't know. Minutes, probably. Sufficient time for his helpless body to be gathered up by a roof security team, secured with binders at wrists and ankles, and gagged for good measure. When he woke, he was being transported through the palace on the shoulders of a squad of Gamorreans. Neither his lightsaber nor his comlink was within reach.

Instead of fighting, he concentrated on casing his body's many bruises and batterings. He didn't know how far he had fallen, but fortunately he had ended up with no broken bones. A ringing skull, yes, and a crus.h.i.+ng blow to his dignity, but nothing worse. For the moment, he was grateful simply to be alive.

His captors whisked him at a brisk jog through the palace. He memorized the turns but without a starting point had no way of knowing exactly where he was going. His general impression, however, was of opulence increasing around him, not decreasing. When he arrived at a large s.p.a.ce full of people whispering and talking, with one loud voice booming away in Huttese over the top of them, he guessed instantly where he was.

The Gamorreans came to a halt in the center of Ta.s.saa Bareesh's throne room, and with a coordinated grunt dumped him onto the floor. Silence radiated around him as people noted his presence. He clambered awkwardly to his feet and looked about.

A large crowd of beings stared back at him, whispering and pointing. He saw no less than twenty different species in one quick glance, from trunked Kubaz to feline Cathars, with bipeds occupying a p.r.o.nounced minority. Their exotic origins belied their unified purpose: to pander and preen before the one who controlled their fates.

"Bona nai kachu, " roared the matriarch of the palace, "dopa meekie Seetha peedunky koochoo!"

s.h.i.+gar turned to face Ta.s.saa Bareesh. She was sprawled heavily on a horrifically ornate throne-bed at one end of the hall, and decorated almost as ornately as it was. He didn't know enough about the Hutts to read her expression, but the quivering of her lipless mouth and the spittle she sprayed as she talked left little to the imagination.

An A-1DA protocol droid shuffled forward on spindly legs. "Ta.s.saa Bareesh wishes you to fully comprehend the certainty that you will be punished, treacherous Sith. "

s.h.i.+gar considered his options. There were at least two dozen weapons trained on him. Behind the crowd, armed guards ran back and forth, responding to various emergencies unfolding in the palace.

He bowed as ceremonially as he was able, given his bindings. "I must correct your mistress. I am in fact a Jedi. "

"Stoopa dopa maskey kung!"

He ignored the insult. "I can hardly have double-crossed you when we had no agreement between us. Beyond trespa.s.sing on your territory without permission, I mean no harm. "

Ta.s.saa Bareesh rumbled threateningly, s.h.i.+fting to a different dialect now that she realized he could understand at least some of her words.

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh says: Your intention was to steal from her. For that, you must die. "

"If you search me, you'll find I'm carrying nothing 1 didn't come here with. "

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh says: Your accomplices have made off with the prize. "

"The navicomp? The last time I saw that it was in the grip of a Mandalorian, not a Jedi. "

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh says: Your treachery is surpa.s.sed only by your puniness. He stole it from you after you stole it from us. "

"You are upset, " s.h.i.+gar said. "Your judgment is clouded. A moment ago you thought I was a Sith. Perhaps the lie you think I am telling is actually the truth. "

The crowd muttered in consternation. Clearly few people were bold enough to question Ta.s.saa Bareesh's judgment to her face.

The Hutt matriarch growled something long and involved that didn't really need translation. The droid rapidly blinked its round blue eyes and made a valiant effort anyway.

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh is most displeased. She has, ah, devised numerous ways to use you for entertainment. "

s.h.i.+gar didn't argue the point. He had finished counting the guards and exits, and reached the conclusion he'd expected. There was no way to fight his way out of this one, and he couldn't rely on reinforcements. He would have to talk. He might even have to make a deal.

That thought sickened him to the stomach.

"Your anger is perfectly justifiable, " he said. "Your palace has been attacked, and the property and information you planned to sell have been stolen. You've been deprived of the profit you deserve. No one would deny that you have a right to seek revenge, to make an example out of those who have caused you embarra.s.sment and significant harm. " He bowed again. "All I beg is that you blame the right people. "

Another explosion ripped through the palace, causing great upset in the throne room. Ta.s.saa Bareesh's huge eyes showed white around the edges as she waved a Twi'lek over to her. His comlink was squawking urgently. They hastily conversed, too quietly for s.h.i.+gar to overhear. Then anger got the better of the matriarch. She backhanded the Twi'lek away from her and roared at the translator.

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh wishes you to understand that the s.p.a.ceport has been attacked, " said the droid, its tapering head bobbing obsequiously.

"By whom?"

"By Imperials. The Republic shuttle has been destroyed. "

s.h.i.+gar considered saying nothing. On one level he didn't need to. The actions of the Imperials had won the argument for him, by their blatant violation of the Treaty of Coruscant. But on another level he was still in hot water. Ta.s.saa Bareesh could have him executed just for being an irritation, and an inconvenient reminder of her loss. He had to give her a reason to spare him, not kill him.

He had to appeal to her business sense.

"We are both the victims here, " he said, choosing his words with exquisite care. "Killing me won't get the navicomp back, and it will make an enemy of the Jedi Council. Either way, you end up worse off. Letting me live, however, offers you a way to cut your losses. "

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh asks: How?"

s.h.i.+gar swallowed. A bad taste had crept into his mouth. "I intend to follow the Mandalorian wherever he goes. He has injured both my pride and my companion, and he will pay for these crimes. The information he has stolen might no longer be of value, in and of itself, but every new world offers opportunities for trade and exploitation. In return for releasing me, I will ensure that those opportunities come to you first, before anyone else. "

The matriarch hummed a pitch almost too low for a human ear to hear. Her eyes didn't leave s.h.i.+gar's face, but they had an inward cast now.

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh is considering your offer, " said the droid, glancing back and forth between them.

"I worked that out. "

She rumbled something, and the translator said, "Ta.s.saa Bareesh wonders how you intend to follow the Mandalorian when you don't have a s.h.i.+p, let alone directions. "

"I'm a Jedi. " He tapped his forehead, hoping to hide the fact that he hadn't the faintest idea on either point. "We have our ways. "

A new wave of whispering spread through the crowd.

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh says that your ways are insufficient. The investment is too risky. "

"But..."

The translator raised a metal hand. "She says that in order to protect her stake in this venture, she must be allowed to provide you with a.s.sistance. "

" 'Must be'?" The choice of words gave him pause. What was being forced on him, exactly? "Tell me more. "

The matriarch settled back on her throne. Her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Ta.s.saa Bareesh will provide you with transport. Her nephew will make the necessary arrangements. If you accept the offer, you may leave immediately. "

s.h.i.+gar wondered what would happen if he rejected her offer. He mistrusted the matriarch's sudden satisfaction. Just moments ago she had been seething with rage at the way her plans had been ruined. Had that been an act, or was this the act?