Refugee: Force Heretic II (30 page)

“Good work,” Goure said, reaching up to smash a nearby security cam. “Now, through here.”

They left the stairwell thirteen floors above the level of the secret command hub. The area they entered wasn’t designed for heavy maintenance, and Tahiri had to stoop to fit into the corridor. Goure didn’t bother. The top of his metal head scraped against the ceiling, lifting tiles and smashing light fittings, leaving a trail of wreckage behind him. Whenever he passed a security cam, he didn’t pause. He just reached out and crushed it without so much as breaking step.

“I take it you know where you’re going?” Tahiri asked. Her previous confidence in him was starting to wane. She couldn’t help wonder whether he really did have a
plan or whether he was just intent on causing as much damage as possible.

“If my memory serves me correctly, there should be a maintenance shaft somewhere …”

Ahead of them was a two-meter-wide, cylindrical column running from floor to ceiling. Goure stepped up to it and used his suit’s strength to tear through the column’s side. Within, Tahiri saw numerous coiled cables and pipes. Clearly, the column stretched many floors above and below them, delivering essential services to the areas around it.

Goure spent a moment searching for the cable he needed. Frustration soon took hold and he started pulling out handfuls at random.

“Come
on,”
Tahiri muttered, glancing around nervously, checking for signs of the other security droids. They couldn’t be far behind.

Sparks and steam hissed and spat from the column as the powerful hands of Goure’s HE-suit tore through wires and conduits. When he was up to his elbows in bubbling fluid and smoking insulator, he clutched both hands around something he’d found deep inside and gave a mighty wrench.

Instantly the lights went out around them and the entire floor was plunged into darkness.

“Okay,” she heard him say somewhat breathlessly. Tahiri switched to infrared to see him step back from the column, then move over to a ventilation shaft and pull it open. “We haven’t got much time. This isn’t going to hold them for long.”

There was a hiss as his HE-suit cracked down the back. His head emerged from the seam, followed by his arms. Tahiri reached around to give him a hand. Her HE-suit lifted him as though he were a doll, his tail lashing in obvious relief at being freed from its confinement.

“Slave your control circuits to mine before you come out,” he instructed her. She did so, and then clicked the
FAST-RELEASE
button. She inhaled deeply, appreciating the fresh, cool air that immediately swept across her body.

“Now what?” she asked, retrieving her lightsaber from the suit’s unresisting fist.

Goure pointed at the open shaft. “We climb. But first …” He reached under his suit’s armpit and flicked a switch. Both suits whirred shut and turned to stride quickly away, each leaving a trail of destruction as they walked through the low-ceilinged corridors.

“Now that’s a trail no one could miss,” he said, his face briefly lit by sparks as the suits marched away into the darkness. “I’ve programmed them to run free, heading up whenever they can. If they reach the stairwell, things could get interesting. If not—well, they’ll gain us a minute or two, at least.”

He helped her into the shaft, then followed, replacing the cover behind him.

“There should be a central air shaft not far from here,” he explained. “When we find it, we go up. Once we reach the surface, we can look for somewhere to come out of the shaft. From there we’re free.”

“Hopefully,” Tahiri added.

Goure nodded grimly. “Hopefully.”

“And what about the Deputy Prime Minister?”

“As long as Harris doesn’t go too far, we should be able to find him in time. But we’ve only got an hour before the ceremony starts, and we have seventeen floors to climb.”

“Then we’d better get moving, wouldn’t you say?”

Outside the shaft, emergency lighting flickered into life. In the distance, they could hear the pounding of the suits’ feet and the crackle of blasterfire.

In the shadowy and reddish darkness, Goure nodded
again, and without another word the two of them began to crawl.

“What do you mean, you prefer to leave the fighting to your sister?” Wyn Antilles stared at Jacen as though he’d gone mad. With her severe black uniform and blond hair pulled back, she looked like a schoolgirl trying to impersonate a Grand Moff; she might have known the rules, but she didn’t have the maturity to pull it off.

“Where I come from,” Jacen responded good-naturedly, “we don’t have customs prohibiting women from fighting in battle. In fact, I didn’t think you had here, either.”

“We don’t,” she said. “That would just be stupid—wouldn’t it, Commander Irolia?” The Chiss officer nodded stiffly from the far side of the table, where she was watching Jacen input data from the library search into data-pads for further analysis. Wyn had joined Jacen and Danni as they reviewed their data electronically, while the other members of the group had continued to talk with the girl’s parents. Initially, Wyn had been very excited at meeting Jacen, and was keen to talk to him about the search for Zonama Sekot. But when this conversation ebbed, the girl had obviously decided it might be fun to lock horns with Jacen, determinedly teasing out his place in the mission and the universe in general. He couldn’t figure out if she was genuinely interested in what he had to say or if she was deliberately antagonizing him, trying to see how far she could actually push a Jedi before his patience cracked …

“All I meant was that you should fight when you have to. Your preferences don’t come into it. Your enemy won’t stand down just because you don’t want to fight. You either rise to the occasion or you die.”

Harsh words, Jacen thought, coming from one so young. But with her pedigree, he reminded himself, and
the culture and times in which she’d been educated, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising.

“I guess what I should have said was that I prefer to put myself in situations where skills other than those involving combat will save the day.” He tried to put his feelings into words with consummate precision, not wanting to give her the chance to leap on another ambiguity. Fatigue wasn’t making it easy, though. “Not every conflict can be solved with violence, Wyn. Some become exponentially more difficult to solve once violence has entered the equation. The Force may need both sides of life—birth and death—in order to be balanced, but that doesn’t meant we can’t look for peaceful solutions. It’s the same if violence seems to be the only—or indeed the easiest—option.”

To his relief, Wyn acknowledged his point with a thoughtful nod. “Okay, I can understand that. But what about your sister? How does she feel about you letting her risk her life exercising the ‘easy’ option?”

“I don’t think it’s a case of me
letting
her do anything,” he said. “She’s simply better at following that path when the need for it arises. While I spend half my life philosophically pondering the way of things, she focuses her energies on the exterior, on what she can change. But as far as I’m concerned, deep down we’re still addressing the same problem—just from different angles.”

“You carry a lightsaber,” Wyn pointed out.

He shrugged. “It’s a symbol of a Jedi—just like the insignia on Commander Irolia’s uniform.”

“Nevertheless, the weapon at your side seems out of place on a man who says he dislikes violence.”

How do I answer that?
he wondered.
If I say that I don’t hate violence, I undermine everything I’ve told her. If I confirm that I do, I make a mockery of my own convictions. Is this the corner I’ve backed myself into?

“Haven’t we drifted off the topic a little here?” Danni
said, stretching tiredly. “We were looking for Zonama Sekot, remember?”

Jacen nodded. It had been an exhausting session, and one that had only been partially successful. The number of “hits”—systems where stories of a wandering planet had been recorded—was reaching a plateau; they quickly ran out of the ones that were easiest to find. So far they had sixty confirmed or suspected appearances in a forty-year period spanning from shortly before the formation of the Empire to some years after. Wherever it was that Zonama Sekot had settled down, it seemed to have done so about twenty years before the arrival of the Yuuzhan Vong.

“But you said before that you were probably looking in the wrong place,” Wyn said.

Danni sighed, and when she spoke there was no mistaking the frustration in her tone. “We’re looking primarily through sociological records,” she said. “Astronomical data would be our best bet. We need to look specifically for systems that have adopted a new planet in their habitable zones, whether those zones are inhabited or not.”

“But there are hundreds of thousands of stars in and around Chiss space,” Wyn said. “Plus about the same number again of orphan worlds drifting in interstellar space. There must be planets captured and lost all the time.”

“Actually, no.” After Danni’s success at cracking the biological secrets of the Yuuzhan Vong, it was easy to forget that her original specialization was astronomy. “Although the capture of extra-solar planets does happen quite naturally, it’s a very rare event—and even rarer right in the middle of the habitable zone. A large percentage of those systems have been visited more than once by droid probes on deep-survey missions, and the basic configurations of the others would have been at
least recorded by large-scale interferometric detectors in nearby systems. The Chiss checked every target system at least twice in the last sixty years. Any discrepancies would show up in even the most basic scan.”

Wyn nodded. “We could set up a sweep to look for stuff that was added to any of the systems on record. I can talk to Tris and—”

She stopped as Luke appeared from one of the aisles, followed closely by Saba. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “We’ve decided to bring
Shadow
to a closer spaceport. If you’d like to clean up and have a rest, then this might be your best chance.”

“I think I’d settle for either, right now,” Danni said.

“What about you, Saba?” Luke said, facing the Barabel. She was bringing another heavy-looking tome to read.

“A shower soundz good,” she said. The exhaustion was clearly evident in her voice. “Even the best hunterz need to wash.”

“Okay, then we’ll see you all shortly at the barge,” Luke said. “When we come back, we’ll bring Artoo with us. He might be able to help us search through the less obvious data.”

“That’s a good idea,” Danni said, rising to her feet. She faced Jacen. “You coming?”

He shook his head. “I think I’ll stay here. Someone has to keep looking through the data we’ve collected. There’s a lot to get through, and we’ve only one day left.”

Danni’s disappointment was obvious, but Luke agreed with a cautious nod. “Don’t overdo it, Jacen. I’m sure Commander Irolia can provide you with a bunk and a ’fresher if you decide you need one.”

“Of course,” the commander said.

“Syal and Soontir will be coming with us on the ice barge,” Luke went on. “Obviously you’re welcome to come as well, Wyn, if you’re interested.”

“Actually, I think I’ll stay and help Jacen, if that’s all right?”

Jacen nodded. “No problem. We can begin that search you thought of, Danni. And if anything comes up, I promise to call, okay?”

Danni glanced at Jacen and Wyn, offering a curt and unenthusiastic nod. “Sure,” she said, then faced Luke. “How soon do we leave?”

“Right now if you like.”

“Sounds good to me,” Danni said. Then, with the faintest glance at Wyn, added: “The sooner the better.”

Jacen’s uncle, aunt, and Lieutenant Stalgis left for the barge with a brief farewell to everyone, followed shortly by Danni and Saba.

“So, what do you want to do?” Wyn asked when everyone had gone. “I could show you around, if you want. Or there’s always—”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Jacen cut her off firmly but gently. Commander Irolia silently took up position against the far wall—a position that allowed her to keep an eye on both Jacen and Wyn. “There really isn’t much time before the deadline runs out, and if we don’t learn anything, then we’re back where we started.”

The girl rolled her eyes, sighing with only a half-serious look of rejection on her face. “Then we’d better get going,” she said.

No, thought Jacen. That’s exactly what they wouldn’t be able to do. If they ever did find what they were looking for, then everything would be blown wide open. It would be the beginning of the end of everything they had come to take for granted these last few years.

He kept this to himself. When he thought of the future, the image he received from the Force was invariably clouded. His vision of a galaxy slipping into darkness still burned inside him, and he didn’t like to think that any failure on his part might contribute to such an outcome.

He was determined to bring his uncle’s peaceful solution into being. And despite a twinge of guilt, he couldn’t allow Wyn’s feelings to get in the way of that.

I should have known better …

Jaina struggled to get a grip on the world around her as suffocating folds of unconsciousness tried to drag her back down. The only signal she received from her body was that of a burning sensation between her shoulder blades, where she’d been shot. She suspected that she hadn’t been seriously hurt, but the blaster’s stun setting had been on the high side, and her nervous system was still a bit scrambled.

When the darkness finally began to recede and she managed to haul herself out into daylight, she couldn’t tell if weeks or minutes had passed. Moaning, she tried to move, but found that Salkeli had bound her arms and legs tightly together. There was a translucent hood over her head, too.

“I see you’re awake,” she heard him say from close by, his voice raised over the steady whining of his land-speeder’s motor. From the way the world bumped and slewed beneath her, she guessed that she was slumped on the reclined seat of the vehicle. Despite her situation, she actually found this thought reassuring; it suggested that she hadn’t been out too long, after all.