Star Wars: The Last of the Jedi, Volume 5 (6 page)

Now
, Solace signaled.

She ran across the few meters of open ground. Trever followed, expecting at any moment to be blasted into oblivion. But they reached the safety of the wall. Solace peered around the corner into
the interior of the hangar.

She signaled, and slipped inside. Trever followed. The hangar was connected to docking bays that ran the length of the structure. Arcs of durasteel rods held the plastoid retractable roof in
place. They stood behind an equipment loader and scanned the space.

The place was mainly staffed by Class Five labor droids. Binary load lifters were busy with cargo. Freight droids moved smaller durasteel bins filled with weapons. Battle droids handled the
security.

“This is why they won,” Oryon said. “Look at this place. They’re so efficient they can build this in no time at all.”

“They cut corners, though,” Solace said. “Antiquated docking system, no fuel lines to individual hangar bays.”

Oryon gazed overhead. “No automated fire protection.”

“Why bother? They can afford to lose droids and stormtroopers.”

“We need to get to a dataport,” Oryon said.

“It’s best if they don’t know we broke in,” Solace said. “I could take out the droids, but…”

“What we need is a diversion,” Trever said.

“Sure,” Oryon agreed. “But what?”

Trever glanced around the hangar. A group of labor droids was using a welding tool to fix a battered speeder. The sparks flew as they busily wheeled about. Next to them was a fuel storage bin
and a parked gravsled. A power droid was nearby, its generator humming as it recharged several smaller freight droids.

“Give me thirty seconds,” Trever said.

Ducking around speeders and ships for cover, he raced toward the droids. When he got within tossing distance of the fuel storage bins, he reached into his utility belt. Carefully modifying an
alpha charge, he lobbed it toward the first bin. The tiny explosion was covered by the noise of the hangar.

The charge blew a small hole in the fuel container. The fuel began to dribble out. It formed a small stream that snaked toward the sparking tool. Trever backed up slowly, then dashed toward
Solace and Oryon.

He felt the explosion at his back. It lifted him through the air and slammed him down on the permacrete. He felt his breath leave his body.

“Galactic,” he breathed. He rolled over and took cover.

Droids converged by the fire. With no automatic fire protection equipment or hoses, they had to scuttle back and forth between the fire stations and the blaze. The labor droids turned to monitor
the situation, but the confusion overwhelmed them.

Oryon was already moving, leaping toward the dataport. Solace moved to guard him in case he was spotted. Trever decided to stay where he was. He watched Oryon’s fingers fly over the
datakeys.

Something alerted him, a flicker at the corner of his vision. It was a security droid, trying to get a fix on his position. Trever reached for a charge in his belt, but Solace had already seen
the droid. She leaped up to slash it in two with her lightsaber.

And just like that, they were spotted.

Security droids wheeled and advanced, firing at them. Oryon raced from the dataport, Solace covering his retreat with her lightsaber. She moved like wind and water, with no trace of effort. Her
lightsaber was a revolving circle of light. Trever waited, knowing that Oryon and Solace would come for him.

They did, running quickly, Oryon’s blaster firing, Solace’s lightsaber arcing and moving. Trever tossed a few half alpha-charges and then ran.

Solace motioned to them and they charged into a small shuttle. Oryon jumped behind the controls. Trever leaped for the laser cannon. He blasted away at the droids as Oryon fired up the engines
and they zoomed out of the hangar and shot up into the atmosphere. In moments, the landing platform was a spot on the surface of the planet. A thin trail of gray smoke marked where the fire
was.

“So much for not attracting attention,” Oryon said.

“Can’t be helped,” Solace answered. “Did you get any information?”

“Not enough,” Oryon said. “The ship’s location is coded, and I didn’t have enough time to break it. I did learn something interesting, though—the ship is the
pet project of a Senator named Sano Sauro. There’s a direct comlinkage between his office and the vehicle.”

“Never heard of him,” Solace said. “I stay away from Senate politics.”

“He’s in the Emperor’s inner circle,” Oryon said. “A nasty piece of work. Maybe Keets and Curran can help us from their end.”

“I’ll send them the information,” Solace said, taking out her comlink.

“Sorry I couldn’t get more,” Oryon said.

Trever looked around the cabin. “No sweat. At least we got a nice ship.”

“There’s nothing more we can do at the moment,” Solace said. “We’ll have to play hide-and-seek with the Empire for a while. We’ll see what Curran and Keets
can come up with.”

The atmosphere at Dex’s hideout was tense. Dexter Jettster had finally left Curran and Keets alone in the study, unable to put up with their bickering. They were going
through information sheets on any link between Samaria and either the Senate or the Empire, and it was rough going. There was plenty of information to study, but no links that stood out. The search
was wearing on both Keets’s and Curran’s nerves. They both needed to be doing something, and this felt like a waste of time.

After Solace finished her brief request, Curran shut off the comlink. He fixed Keets with his sharp, penetrating gaze. His nose twitched.

“What did I do now?” Keets threw a wadded-up paper from a muja muffin on top of the pile of durasheets on his table. He brushed the crumbs off his tunic.

“We almost missed that communication. The comlink should be available at all times.”

“I handed it to you!”

“After a search. You lost it under that pile.”

“True. But I found it again. You never give me enough credit.” Keets grinned at Curran. “You want the rest of my muffin?”

“I don’t…want…the rest of your muffin.” Curran articulated each word. “I want you to be responsible.”

“I keep telling you, don’t say that word while I’m in the room. What did they say?” Keets asked.

Curran sighed. He sat down carefully in a chair after brushing off some crumbs. “They couldn’t locate the ship, but they did discover an interesting connection. Sano Sauro is in
comlink touch with the ship.”

Keets whistled. “That
is
interesting. It’s our Bog Divinian link. He’s a protégé of Sauro’s. Do you think they’re cooking up something on
Samaria?”

“No doubt. If we can find out what, we might be able to help Ferus and get some crucial information to Solace and Oryon as well.”

Keets looked at his messy table. “I knew there was a reason I was going through these senatorial records. Every time Divinian, that pompous son of a bantha, makes a move, Sauro is
somewhere in the background.”

“Sauro plucked him out of obscurity and brought him back to the government,” Curran said. He smoothed the fur on his cheeks with his hands, a gesture he made when he was thinking
hard. “He’s risen fast. But Divinian is nothing more than a hack. Why would Sauro need a hack?”

Keets gestured at the pile of durasheets, sending half of them shooting off the table. “Bantha Bog isn’t his only hack. He’s got plenty more.” Keets thought a moment as
he gazed at the pile on the floor. “At first I thought Sauro just didn’t have good judgment. His protégés are the emptiest heads you’ve ever seen. Find a being, male
or female, who’s been raised with wealth and hasn’t done a thing with it, shove them into positions of power…”

“And then control their every move,” Curran said. “You’re really the one with the power, not them.”

“He’s personally handpicked Imperial advisors to at least ten planets in the Core that I know about,” Keets said.

“But how does this help us with Samaria?”

“It doesn’t…yet,” Keets said. “But it’s brilliant, if you go in for that evil mastermind sort of thing. Sauro has managed to ingratiate himself into
Palpatine’s inner circle. Now he’s consolidating his power outside of it. I’d bet he’s going to butt heads—or should I say helmet—with Vader
eventually.”

Dexter Jettster stuck his big head in the room. Two of his hands gestured at them. “Have you two stopped going at each other like a pair of nek battle dogs or have you found
something?”

“Just a plot to take over the galaxy,” Keets said.

Curran blew out a short breath, ruffling his facial fur. “Sano Sauro is handpicking Imperial advisors and sending them to strategic planets in the Core Worlds. He’s also set up a
ship called the
True Justice
, a kind of traveling courtroom for political prisoners. That’s where Roan and Dona are being held.”

“Good—finding them is the first step.” Dex stroked his chin with one of his four hands. “Setting up a system to try political prisoners is a smart move. That would give
him access to any information on resistance movements.”

“And he’s a special advisor to the new academy where they’re starting to train pilots and officers,” Keets said. “He’s got a finger in a lot of nasty Imperial
pies.”

“In another few years, he’ll have planetary rulers and officers loyal to him, as well as all the Senators he has in his pocket,” Curran said.

“The question is, does Palpatine know what he’s up to?” Keets asked.

“Might know, might not care,” Dex said shrewdly. “He’ll let Vader handle Sauro if he has to get rid of him. In the meantime, he’s helping the Empire. But how does
this help our friends?”

“We know he’s in constant communication with the
True Justice,
” Keets said. “So at least we can send the coordinates to Solace.”

“Break into his files at the Senate?” Dex asked. “The two of you are well known there. You got away with it once, but sneaking into a senatorial office will be harder. Zackery
is still in charge of security.”

“Zackery! My old friend,” Keets said. “We had many a tussle when I was a reporter. I got thrown out of the Senate building by him more times than I can count.”

“He’s nothing to laugh at,” Dex advised, with a frown. “More power has just made him meaner. This is a dangerous game, my friends.”

“The only kind to play,” Keets replied.

Most of the population of Sath lived in tall high-rises, some luxurious, some not. The building Ferus was looking for fell somewhere in the middle range. It was built
overlooking a canal, and a large landing platform crowned a hangar nearby.

“Decent place, but what are we doing here?” Clive asked as they zoomed up in the turbolift.

“All vehicles applying for departure must register an address with the landing platform,” Ferus answered.

“So you think the person using Quintus Farel’s identity is here?”

“No. I think whoever sold him the cruiser is here. I think he was able to use the address of the former owner because it hadn’t been changed in the system yet.”

“I never realized what a mind for details you had, Ferus.”

“It’s an old skill.”

“Must have made you popular.”

“It made me a bore.”

Ferus pushed the door alert button to an apartment on the fiftieth floor. He stood in front of the security screen. In a moment a voice squawked out of the speaker next to it.

“What is it?”

“I’m here to ask you a few questions about a star cruiser you sold several weeks ago,” Ferus said.

“If there are any problems with it, they aren’t mine,” the voice snarled. “When I sold it, it was in top condition.”

“No, no problems. Can you open the door? It would be easier to talk face-to-face.”

A hesitation, then the door slid open. A young woman stood before them, her shimmersilk dressing gown knotted tightly around her waist. She looked Ferus and Clive up and down. “Okay,
here’s my face. What is it?”

“I have some questions about the person you sold the cruiser to. Quintus Farel.”

“So ask. Do I look like I have all day for this?”

“Did you meet Quintus Farel?”

“You’re not from Sath, are you? Who meets anybody in this city? I placed an electronic advert, this Quintus answered it, we exchanged details, I got credits in my accounts, Quintus
got the ship. I bought it for some romantic space travel, but my boyfriend took off, the dinko. Anyway, who wants to travel in this galaxy now? Stormtroopers, everywhere I look.”