Star Wars: The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance (13 page)

"I
think we can dispense with all that, " he said. "Why don't
we just get down to business?"

Tassaa
Bareesh's slit-like grin widened even farther, if that were possible.

Her
pointy-headed protocol droid assured Ula that Tassaa Bareesh
understood completely.

She
waved forward an underling, a salacious-looking Twi'lek, who took
over negotiations from that point The Twi'lek promised that they
would soon see the legacy of the Cinzia. As Ula was led from the
throne room, he glimpsed a scruffy-looking man leaning up against the
rear wall with a blank look on his face and a battered orange droid
close at his shoulder. The man's ennui had a manufactured air, and it
was this that caught Ula's eye.

"Who
was that fellow back there?" he asked his guide.

"Which
fellow?" Yeama didn't even glance over his shoulder.

Ula
described him, not yet willing to give the matter up. Being a good
informer meant taking nothing for granted and noticing all the
details.

"Grayish
hair, prominent nose, brown eyes-with an old droid. "

"Oh,
no one in particular, " the Twi'lek assured him. "A pilot
whose ship is currently berthed here. He has the favor of my
mistress, and therefore the run of the palace. "

"What's
his name?"

"Jet
Nebula, Envoy Vii. You won't have heard of him. "

That
was true. It didn't even sound like a real name. But he wasn't fool
enough to take Yeama at his word. The Hutts and their servants were
natural liars. Like him.

He
filed the name away in his memory.

*
* *

Yeama
took him through several ridiculous security measures in order to
introduce him to the cause of all this fuss. A navicomp and a
battered bit of space junk-it all seemed an utter beat-up as far as
he could tell, although that in itself was something of a relief. If
the charade amounted to nothing, it would soon therefore be over.
Nonetheless, he attended carefully to the details and asked the
questions expected of him.

"No
survivors, you say?" he asked after hearing the last
transmissions from the Cinzia. "How can I be sure your affiliate
didn't murder them and concoct this mad story to cover the deed?"

"The
fate of the passengers is irrelevant to us, " Yeama answered.
"We would not lie to spare your sensibilities. "

That
Ula believed completely, and it revived the moral outrage he had felt
at being in the court of a Hutt. Tassaa Bareesh's venal tactics only
confirmed his low opinion of her kind and his hopes that they would
be undone, somehow. The Hutts were walking a very fine line. The more
valuable the items they were auctioning, the more they could
obviously charge-but how long until one or another party simply
walked in and took them?

He
wondered if either side had just such contingencies in place.

Supreme
Commander Stantorrs obviously suspected so, with respect to the Jedi,
and there had been no chance to ask Watcher Three if the Emperor had
sent someone other than an official envoy. A Cipher Agent, perhaps,
capable of far greater feats than a mere informer such as himself.
Ula had glimpsed an Imperial shuttle in the dock at the rear of the
palace, so he knew he wasn't the only envoy Bareesh had entertained
that day.

It
had occurred to him on the way that the Imperial envoy wouldn't know
that the Republic envoy was actually a traitor with no intention of
winning the auction for his so-called masters. If he could only find
some way to communicate that message, it might save the Emperor a
great deal of trouble and expense...

Yeama
was speaking again. "The auction will be held tomorrow, with all
parties present. You will be bidding for the combination to this
vault. The safety of all parties is our primary concern, so the
process will be anonymous. I will take you to your secure
accommodation now, and you may examine the data there overnight. "

"If
the bidders are anonymous, " said Ula, seeing his chance of
getting a message to the Imperial envoy slipping away from him, "how
will we know that the bids are genuine?"

"How
indeed?" said Yeama, with a knowing smile. "I advise you to
bid fairly, so you can be sure that the winning bid reflects the
prize's true worth. "

Thieves
and liars and economic rationalists, thought Ula as Yeama led him to
the embarrassingly lush hospitality center. To chaos with the lot of
them.

*
* *

Analyzing
the data took the better part of an hour. The Cinzia shown in
recordings taken by Bareesh's pirate had been a light star cruiser of
unfamiliar design, but Ula's sharp eye detected hints of an Imperial
chassis under a refurbished hull. It could have been an old S- class
model, stripped down and rebuilt from the inside out. The drives had
a similar signature, although their emissions had been baffled
somehow. Fragments of the hull collected after the explosion showed
high proportions of rare metals-similar to those of the object
sitting in Tassaa Bareesh's vault. Nothing about the ship gave any
hint as to its origins.

A
world rich in exotic metals would be a prize indeed, Ula thought as
he scoured the data for clues. Perhaps his trip hadn't been for
nothing after all. Such rare substances were the backbone of many
industries, from communications to war. Shortages had delayed many
projects crucial to the Empire's expansion already, including some so
secret that he heard of them only through reports issued to Supreme
Commander Stantorrs by Republic spies. His own side didn't trust him
to know.

"It's
all a game, " he muttered to himself, pushing the holovid away
from him in frustration.

"Is
anything the matter, Envoy?" asked Potannin, standing to
attention by the entrance to their suite.

"Oh,
nothing, Sergeant, " he said. "I'm just tired. "

"Would
you like to retire? You have a choice of beds..."

"I
don't think I'll sleep tonight. "

"You
have received several invitations from other parties in the palace,
sir. If any interest you, I could make arrangements. "

"Would
that be safe?"

Potannin's
angular face displayed confident assurance. "I would hazard a
guess, sir, that so long as the Hutts propose to profit from us,
we're in the safest place in the galaxy. "

"True.
" Ula thought for a moment. "All right, then. Let me see
the list. "

He
scanned it quickly, glossing over minor ambassadors, ambitious crime
bosses, and several beings whose intentions were even less honorable.
One name caught his attention.

"Jet
Nebula, that pilot with the ridiculous name who has free run of the
palace. What does he want from me?"

"I
couldn't say, sir. But he's invited you for a drink in a cantina
called the Poison Pit. "

"Sounds
unpleasant. "

"Shall
I turn them all down, sir?"

"Yes.
No, wait. " There had been something odd in Jet Nebula's
disaffected stance, and in his placement in the welcoming hall. If he
was truly so bored, why had he put himself in a position from which
he could study everyone in the room?

"Tell
Nebula I'll meet him in half an hour. "

"Yes,
sir. "

Ula
picked a refresher at random and changed his robes for something more
sensible. The ones Diplomatic Supplies had provided him with made him
feel like a clown. And besides, he didn't want to stand out. If he
was going to discover who this Jet Nebula really was-or at the very
least, what he knew-he would do it dressed properly.

Before
he left the refresher, he took the compact hold-out blaster he'd
packed and slipped it into his breast pocket. Just in case.

*
* *

The
cantina was as bad as he had anticipated, with alien and human
lowlifes clustered in twos and threes over pots of dense- looking
brown beverages. A complex roar of ever-changing frequencies blasted
the space, performed by a quintet of Bith; Ula could only assume they
considered the noise they made to be music.

He
exchanged a glance with Potannin, who stationed watches at both
entrances and put the three remaining soldiers at strategic points
around the cantina. Their presence alone caused some patrons to pick
up their drinks and stagger elsewhere.

Jet
Nebula occupied a dark corner, sprawled across a low padded lounge
with his head tipped back and his battered droid standing
protectively at his feet. The glass in front of him was empty. As Ula
approached, Jet's head came up and fixed him with the same stare he
had been using earlier that day.

"Nice
duds, " he said.

Ula
felt his face turning red. Diplomatic Supplies' idea of "sensible"
amounted to a mock-military uniform in purple, with meaningless
epaulets and insignias on every available surface. He had taken off
the baubles, but there was nothing he could do about the color except
drape a gray cloak across his shoulders and hope for the best.

"You
wanted to talk with me, " he said, cutting right to the chase.

"That
depends, mate. Are you buying?"

"Is
that all you're after-a free drink?"

"So
what if I am? A man's got to take it where he finds it, in my line of
work. "

"Which
is?"

"Can't
you guess? It takes a faker to know a faker. "

A
cold chill ran down Ula's spine. What was Jet saying? That he knew
Ula was an informer? Was he going to blackmail him for money-or
worse?

Jet
smiled and scratched lazily at his chin. "All these questions
are making me thirsty. How about you send your man to buy us a round
of Reactor Cores and we'll talk like proper gentlemen. "

Ula
had no choice but to agree. On the off-chance Jet did know something,
he didn't want it revealed in front of his security detail.

Ula
gave the orders, and the droid tottered off after Potannin. He sat
down, ignoring the sudden weakness in his knees. "What do you
want?"

"I've
already told you, and you're already providing. "

"I'm
not talking about alcohol. Be more explicit. "

"If
you can't figure it out, then you're no use to me. "

"What
do you mean?" Ula felt his indignation rising, but before he
could lash out in return, something occurred to him. "Wait a
minute. Yeama said you had the favor of Tassaa Bareesh. What are you
doing down here cadging drinks off me?"

Jet
said nothing.

Ula
examined everything he knew about Jet, and found a clutch of
previously disconnected facts taking a surprising new configuration
in his mind.

"That's
your ship in the dock, " he said, "the one with the blast
damage. You ordered a smuggler's drink. You said faker because of
what you do, not me. "

"
'All politicians are liars, '" he said, "to quote
Chancellor Janarus. "

Ula
didn't laugh at the paradox. "You're the pirate who found the
Cinzia. "

"I
prefer freight captain, " said Jet, "but I am that fellow.
" He executed a mock-bow from his slouched position on the
lounge. "The Hutts don't forget who their friends are. "

"You
don't look like you're enjoying yourself. "

"What's
not to like? My ship's impounded, and I can't leave the palace. I'm
in paradise. "

Ula
leaned in closer and whispered over the table, "Is that what you
want to talk to me about? If so, I don't have the authority to..."

Jet
waved him silent. Potannin had returned with the drinks. They were
large, murky, and dangerous looking. Jet raised his, blew off the
scintillating foam, and toasted the Republic.

Ula
echoed the toast and took a sip. Electric fire burned a skylane down
his throat and caused a slow detonation in his stomach.

"Are
you all right, sir?" asked Potannin.

"Yes,
Sergeant, " he managed. "Leave us for the moment. But stay
close. " In case I need a medic...