Apocalypse (39 page)

It was a good lesson to bear in mind.

Having stashed her helmet inside her vac suit cargo pack, Tahiri pulled the mike up from her suit collar and used the Moon Maiden’s internal network to link to a surface antenna, then opened a secure channel to Lieutenant Vangur aboard the Mabartak.

“Change your mind about the escort?” Vangur asked, not even
bothering to identify himself—or confirm that he was, indeed, talking to Tahiri. “We can be there in five minutes.”

“Tempting, but no,” Tahiri said. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “What?”

“First, you’re to be two kilometers clear of the Moon Maiden in one hour, whether I’m aboard or not,” she said. “And that
is
an order. Understood?”

“Absolutely.”

Though even Vangur was too much of an Imperial officer to ask for an explanation, Tahiri could hear the curiosity in his voice.

“Trust me,” she said. “If I’m not back, you won’t want to be anywhere near the Maiden.”

“If you say so, ma’am.”

“I do,” Tahiri replied. “Next, I need you to relay a situation report to Head of State Fel—and to him alone. Do you understand?”

“Of course.” Vangur’s voice had finally grown serious. “But I don’t know if the Head of State is going to accept a direct communiqué from a—”

“Tell him it’s from the Imperial Hand,” Tahiri interrupted. “You’ll get through. You’re to give Head of State Fel this location, along with this message:
She’s here. Act soonest … regardless
.”

“She’s here. Act soonest, regardless,”
Vangur confirmed. “Will the Head of State understand that last part? I mean, regardless of what, exactly?”

“Regardless of
anything
, Lieutenant.”

“Ah … I see.” Vangur went silent a moment, then asked, “Off the record, ma’am?”

“Make it quick.”

“Thanks for thinking of my crew,” he said. “And I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be waiting the
full
hour.”

“Mind?” Tahiri replied. “I may be
counting
on it.”

She closed the channel, then checked her chrono and saw that it was eleven in the morning, Galactic Standard Time. She had allowed herself one hour. Given that Head of State Fel had assigned a frigate to her, and that she had left that frigate on station about midway between Hagamoor 3 and its planet, there
was
a small possibility that Jag might
be able to initiate a turbolaser bombardment in less time. But the order would need to be issued and confirmed, and then the frigate would have to move into position and verify the Moon Maiden’s location. Realistically, an hour would be a lightning-fast response.

But this was Abeloth, and therefore Jag would make it happen.

So Tahiri had until midday GST to confirm Abeloth’s presence and take down any shield generators hidden inside the facility. She also needed to develop a way to observe and verify the target’s destruction, and to arrange something that would hold Abeloth’s attention until the barrage began. And while Tahiri was doing all
that
, if she could also think of some way to survive the barrage herself … well, that might be nice, too.

The first place to check for shield generators, of course, was the security bunker. Deciding it would be wise to have some idea of what she would find waiting above, Tahiri extended her Force awareness toward the building—and felt only a single groggy presence, a short distance up the ramp.

Fett, of course, hanging trapped but alive.

Using the Force to clear her path of any flora that looked like it might spray, sting, or snare, Tahiri advanced a few paces toward the bounty hunter. Jagged had given her free rein to do whatever it took to stop Abeloth, and he had specifically mentioned killing Fett. That would probably have been the smart thing to do, given how dangerous Fett was—and how rarely anyone encountered him in such a vulnerable state.

Tahiri hesitated for two reasons. First, she was not absolutely confident that it was Fett inside the armor. While impostors had a way of meeting quick ends, con men had been known to collect enormous fees by copying Fett’s armor and passing themselves off as the infamous bounty hunter. Second—and most important—if that
was
Fett, he could not be working with Abeloth, or he would have known better than to let himself be captured by her carnivorous plants. So maybe—just
maybe
—Tahiri could steer him into helping her instead. He would certainly be the kind of fodder that might keep Abeloth too busy to notice that a turbolaser barrage was about to descend.

Tahiri stopped five paces short of Fett—and the curtain of flesh-eating
moss that was holding him captive. “Boba Fett?” she called. “Is that you?”

The figure hanging before her remained motionless.

“Come on, Fett, I know you’re alive,” she said. “I can feel it in the aaaah
krrriffff
!”

The assertion changed to a curse when Tahiri noticed Fett swinging his one free arm in her direction. She used the Force to push the limb back as she turned and dived for cover.

She landed a couple of paces from the bottom of the ramp and rolled the rest of the way, coming to a stop face-to-face with a moldering corpse. From behind her came the roaring crackle of a flamethrower.

Tahiri expected to hear the clatter of an armored body crashing to the floor as Fett freed himself from the moss. Instead a helmet-muffled voice began cursing in modern
Mando’a
, and she spun around to find the bounty hunter’s situation even worse than before. The moss had melted into a big gob that now covered not only the flamethrower but Fett’s entire arm. And the tendrils had contracted as they melted, immobilizing the limb and pulling it back toward the wall.

Tahiri picked herself up and shrugged. “Okay, Fett. Suit yourself.” She wiped the mold off her face and turned back toward the main tunnel. “Sorry to bother you.”

“That’s
it
, Veila?” Fett called. “You’re just going to leave me hanging here … 
alive
?”

Tahiri checked to make certain there were no carnivorous plants snaking her way, then looked back toward Fett.

“What did you expect?” she asked. “You tried to slag me.”

“I
expected
you to finish the job,” Fett said. “Not that I’m complaining, but I didn’t expect you to be squeamish about the wet work. Your reputation must be overblown.”

“Fett, let me ask you a question,” Tahiri said. She knew he was just trying to draw her in close so he could get the drop on her and force her to help him escape—and it was so unnecessary. “Can you move stuff with your mind?”

“Stupid question,” Fett growled. “You know I can’t.”

“Right. But
I
can. So if I wanted you dead, why would I walk over
there and call your name?” Tahiri pulled the pack off her back and opened it, then used the Force to lift a thermal detonator out of the interior. “Why wouldn’t I just float one of these bad girls over there next to you?”

Fett’s helmet turned until the T-shaped visor was pointed in her direction. “Are you enjoying this?”

“A little bit,” Tahiri admitted. She armed the detonator and set the fuse. “And I
will
kill you, if need be.”

“And this is where I convince you there’s no need?”

“That depends. How much do you want to live?”

“Enough,” Fett grunted. “If you’re offering a deal, let’s hear it.”

Tahiri smiled. She could do a lot worse in the hired-scum department. Fett might be a murdering sleemo, but he was a murdering sleemo with his own code of honor and an enormous pride in his work. When he made a deal, he usually honored it.

“My orders are to end your involvement in Imperial politics,” she said. “
How
I do that is at my own discretion.”

“Sorry, but I’m not leaving here until I get what I came for.”

“The scientists who developed the Moffs’ nanokiller?”

Fett was normally cool, but Tahiri could feel the heat of his hatred boiling in the Force. “Jessal Yu and Frela Tarm,” he confirmed. “They’re supposed to be here with a bunch of Squibs.”

“I can let you have the two scientists,” Tahiri offered. “Unofficially, of course.”

“In return for?”

“I told you, staying out of Imperial politics,” Tahiri replied. “That means your deal with Daala is over.”

“I got her here.” Fett was finally beginning to sound interested. “That
was
our deal.”

“Good. Then you’re free to make a deal with me.”

“To do that, I’d have to trust you,” Fett said. “And given the company you keep, I don’t.”

“Caedus was a long time ago,” Tahiri said. She knew the biggest obstacle to an arrangement with Fett was her former apprenticeship to Darth Caedus. Caedus was the one who had authorized the Moffs to dump the nanokiller targeting Fett into Mandalore’s atmosphere—
after
torturing his daughter, Ailyn Vel, to death in the opening weeks
of the Second Civil War. “But if you can’t put the past behind you, I’ll be happy to end your embarrassment forever—just to make sure my reputation doesn’t suffer.”

“I wasn’t talking about Caedus,” Fett said, refusing to be intimidated.

“I’m no Jedi, either,” Tahiri said. “At the moment, I’m working for the Empire.”

A snort sounded inside Fett’s helmet. “Only until Daala takes over.”

“Is that any business of yours?”

“I guess not.” Fett paused. “What’s in it for you?”

“We have a mutual enemy.”

“Here?”

Tahiri nodded. “How much do you know about Abeloth?”

“Who?”

“Abeloth is more of a
what
,” Tahiri said, certain now that her earlier assumption about Fett working with Abeloth had been mistaken. “And if you want your scientists, you’ll have to deal with her first. Let me cut you down, and I’ll tell you what we’re facing.”

“I haven’t agreed yet,” Fett reminded her.

“You will.” Tahiri returned the detonator to her pack and the pack to her shoulders, and then started toward the ramp. “Trust me—you’re going to want the help.”

Taking care to stand well away from the tendrils, she used her lightsaber to cut Fett free and helped him clean the moss from his armor. He removed a hypo from one of the utility pouches on his belt and gave himself an injection to combat his pain and grogginess, and Tahiri began a quick rundown on Abeloth, explaining that she was an ancient Force entity who had escaped from the Maw. The Jedi were still learning about her, but so far they had established that she could move between bodies and change her appearance at will. And she was proving
very
difficult to kill.

Fett only shrugged. “Maybe the Jedi aren’t using the right kind of ammunition.”

“Do
not
take her lightly,” Tahiri warned. “She has more ways to kill than you do—and you’ll never see her coming.”

“You think you’re scaring me, Veila?” Fett asked. “I
always
see them coming.”

Tahiri pointed at the moss they had just cleaned off his armor. “You didn’t this time.”

“
That
was her doing?” Fett asked, glancing at the sticky pile. “I thought it was my scientists, doing something
else
they need to die for.”

“I’m afraid not,” Tahiri replied. “This stuff grows wherever Abeloth sets up house. It’s how she feeds.”

“On fungus and moss?” Fett asked. “What is she, some kind of cave-creeper?”

Tahiri shook her head. “Abeloth is no herbivore, Fett. She feeds on fear. Anguish. On what beings feel as they suffer and die.”

Fett’s helmet swung back. “You’re telling me she feeds on
death
?”

“Not in the way you mean,” Tahiri replied. “She feeds on the
feelings
death causes. Fear and pain release a lot of dark side energy. That’s what Abeloth is after.”

Fett fell silent, and Tahiri could tell by the stillness in his Force aura that she was finally making him understand what they were up against—that he needed her help for more than just finding his scientists. He needed her to get him out of the Moon Maiden alive.

Finally, Fett nodded. “Okay, she’s a Force-drinker,” he said. “I get it.”

“Not yet,” Tahiri said. “You’re still thinking on a mortal scale, like Vader or Palpatine. Think bigger, like a storm or a tide. Like a living
Force volcano
.”

Fett’s helmet tipped back. “A living Force volcano?” he echoed. “That’s running it pretty far into Wild Space, Veila.”

“I don’t think so,” Tahiri said. “You saw all those speeders out in the crater?”

“They would have been hard to miss,” Fett said. “I figured Yu and Tarm needed a bunch of lab rats.”

“I guess that’s one explanation.” Tahiri waved a hand at a clump of fungi. “But they can’t be doing much experimenting right now … and the Moon Maiden is still advertising heavily for new workers.”

“You think Abeloth is running through her feeding stock?”

“That’s my guess,” Tahiri replied. “It certainly fits the facts
I
see.”

Fett looked away, and Tahiri felt his Force aura grow cold and apprehensive.
“Okay,” he said at last. “We’re up against a Force volcano. How do we kill it?”

“I’m still working on that.” Grateful that Fett couldn’t sense what was in
her
Force aura, she smiled. “I was hoping you might have some ideas.”

Fett studied her for a moment, then finally nodded. “Deal,” he said. “But you take point.”

“Fair enough,” Tahiri said.

She started up the ramp toward the security bunker.

“No need,” Fett said. “Nothing up there but bodies. Dead ones.”

“Nothing?” Tahiri asked. Guessing Fett might be reluctant to stick around if she mentioned there was turbolaser barrage on the way, she was trying to find a subtle way to ask about shield generators. “You cleared it?”

“
No
. They just died of fright when they heard I was coming.”

Tahiri rolled her eyes. “I was wondering about surveillance, hatch lockouts, patrol droids … that sort of thing?”

“Do I look like an amateur?” Fett demanded. “I said
nothing
. Nothing living, nothing functional.”

“Okay … thanks,” Tahiri said, deciding that Fett’s definition of
nothing
meant she could check
destroy shield generators
off her mental to-do list. “That’s good to know.”