Refugee: Force Heretic II (29 page)

He scanned through more hidden cams, glancing at more supposedly secure rooms. The picture quality varied from full 3-D to grainy black-and-white 2-D. Mostly the footage was of empty offices or of Senators going about early-morning preparations for the consecration ceremony. Nothing terribly exciting.

After flitting through numerous cam points of view, Tahiri was starting to wonder whether they were ever going to find anything useful. Then—

“Wait!” she called out. “Go back!”

But Goure was already onto it, recalling the image of Han and Leia and manipulating it to bring it into focus. They were standing in a plushly appointed office opposite Prime Minister Cundertol’s broad, polished desk. Leia’s expression was carefully composed, as always, but there was no mistaking Han’s frustration.

Tahiri was about to ask if there was any sound when Goure provided it.

“—understand your concern,” Cundertol was saying, “but at this stage there really is nothing I can do—especially when it appears that she might have been complicit in the escape of a dangerous criminal.”

Han bristled. “If she helped Malinza escape, then it had to be for a good reason.”

“Be that as it may, Captain Solo, the fact remains that she broke the law. If your daughter believed in Malinza’s innocence, then there are legal avenues she could have pursued. However, as things stand, you have to see that my hands are tied. From a legal point of view, it is hard to deny that she is guilty.”

“Of helping an innocent woman escape!” Han said.

“Malinza Thanas is hardly an innocent,” the Prime Minister said gravely. “She and her band of insurrectionists have done more than enough damage to the peace of Bakura to warrant her outlaw status. It was time she was put away.”

“But you yourself thought she was innocent!” Han blustered, incredulous.

Cundertol’s expression was one of mystified puzzlement. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Leia broke in calmly, averting an explosion of Corellian proportions. “Prime Minister, it’s my suspicion that Jaina has been set up. We were contacted by someone claiming to have information for us. Acting on that information, Jaina went to visit Malinza Thanas—but only to speak with the girl. She certainly never went there to help Malinza escape. If she did participate, it would only have been under coercion.”

“So why hasn’t she come forward to explain herself?” Cundertol asked. “The footage clearly shows her leading Thanas out of the penitentiary of her own free will. There was no coercion.”

“Then she was tricked into it,” Leia said.

“Why?”

“If we knew that,” Han snarled, “then we wouldn’t be wasting our time with you, would we? We’d fix the problem ourselves.”

Leia put a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “We don’t mean to criticize,” she said. “We are simply concerned about the well-being of our daughter.”

“And what about your other companion? The other Jedi? Has she returned yet?”

Han’s scowl deepened, but Leia’s expression remained calm and sober. “Unfortunately, no. And I’m becoming concerned about her safety, too.”

“So that makes two Jedi Knights roaming Salis D’aar unchecked. I’m sure you’ll forgive me for suggesting that anything underhanded is going on, but the timing is uncanny. One day before Bakura is due to cement a lasting peace with its old enemy, the Galactic Alliance turns up and throws everything into disorder. I can’t help but wonder whether you want us to sever ties with the rest of the galaxy. Or perhaps there is something you still need from us that you fear we will no longer give you …”

“I don’t think you believe that, Prime Minister,” Leia said, unruffled by the accusations. “You know us, and you know that we only act in the interest of peace.”

“I’m afraid I have yet to see any evidence whatsoever to support this, Princess.”

At that moment, a high-pitched buzzing sound issued from the Prime Minister’s desk. In one smooth movement, Cundertol stood and smoothed back his hair. The change in his behavior was striking. As unperturbed as he had been by Han’s threatening manner, a tinny alarm seemed to leave him quite flustered.

“I’m sorry, but you really must excuse me; that will be my next appointment. You can rest assured, though, that we will be doing everything in our power to find the missing Jedi Knights—along with Malinza Thanas.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “I trust we will see
you both at the consecration ceremony. It’s only a short time away now, and I do not wish you to feel that because of the recent developments, we would be so churlish as to rescind our invitation to you. Princess Leia, Captain Solo: you remain our honored guests until such time as we have cause to think otherwise.”

Leia practically had to drag her husband from the office. They were both clearly unsatisfied by the audience with the Prime Minister, but even Tahiri, watching from afar, could see that they could do little about it just then.

As the door shut behind them, Cundertol sat back down. For a long moment he was completely still—as though gathering his thoughts in meditation.

“Leia mentioned you,” Tahiri said to Goure. “You’re the who contacted us, who sent Jaina into the penitentiary. She probably thinks you’re involved in whatever trouble Jaina’s in.”

“Which is all the more reason to find out what happened to her. Let’s see if we can pick up something in—”

“Wait; look!” The door to Cundertol’s office had opened again. Four dull-scaled P’w’eck guards walked in, dressed in elaborate leather harnesses and wearing paddle beamers at their sides. They spread out on either side of the desk and gazed suspiciously around the room. Lwothin then lumbered in, and behind him, walking serenely and with consummate grace, came a figure that, broadly speaking, resembled a P’w’eck, but was in almost every detail something quite different.

The Keeramak
, Tahiri thought. She couldn’t help but admire the creature’s beautifully swirled, multicolored scales. The pattern they made shimmered with rainbow hues under the bright lights of the office. Every movement sent new sparkles dancing. The Ssi-ruuvi physique was that of a refined hunter, honed by thousands of years of dominance over the stunted, nervous-looking P’w’ecks. The Keeramak’s posture was straighter and its poise more
balanced; its limbs were longer, its muscles sleeker, and its eyes glinted with an intelligence and cunning that made Advance Leader Lwothin look about as threatening as an Ewok.

Two more P’w’eck guards followed. The doors shut firmly behind them. The Keeramak strode right up to Cundertol’s desk and stood there, its thick tail swishing.

Cundertol rose and bowed formally.

The Keeramak said something in the powerful, deep fluting of the Ssi-ruuvi tongue. Tahiri listened for a translation, but none came. Cundertol had an earplug, she assumed, feeding the Keeramak’s words in Basic directly to him. That was unfortunate, but not a disaster.

At least we can still hear
his
reply
, Tahiri thought.

But what happened next took her completely by surprise. When the Keeramak had finished speaking, Prime Minister Cundertol opened his mouth and replied to the alien in fluent Ssi-ruuvi—a language that no human could possibly dream of pronouncing.

Tahiri stared at the screen, watching Cundertol’s larynx bob up and down in a highly unusual fashion as a rapid series of flutes issued from his mouth.

“This isn’t possible,” she said, stunned.

Cundertol’s speech was interrupted by a loud interjection from the Keeramak. A clawed hand grasped air between the two of them. Cundertol protested at something, but the Keeramak cut him off again. Finally, with a sour expression, he nodded and sat back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest.

He spoke again in the alien language, to which the Keeramak responded with a snort that might have been Ssi-ruuvi laughter. Lwothin tried to lean into the conversation, but the Keeramak batted him roughly aside. Cundertol smiled at this.

“I don’t like the look of this,” Tahiri said.

“Me neither,” Goure replied. “If only there was some
way I could record this—or at least patch it into a translator. But I can’t do either without alerting security.”

“Then maybe that’s what we need to do,” Tahiri said. “I mean,
someone
needs to know about this!”

The words had barely left her lips when the exchange between Cundertol and the Keeramak ended. The Prime Minister stood and offered another slight bow. Lwothin and his Ssi-ruuvi leader left the room, flanked by their armed bodyguard.

When he was alone again, Cundertol fell heavily into his seat once more, this time with a relieved expression on his face.

“I’ve no idea what just happened,” Goure said, “but you’re right: we have to tell someone about it.”

“Tell them what, though?” Tahiri asked. The incident was only seconds in the past, and already she was finding it difficult to credit—so how were others going to believe them without proof? “Do we just come out and say that the Prime Minister might be some sort of human/Ssi-ruu hybrid? They’re never going to believe us!”

“There is someone who might,” Goure said thoughtfully.

“Who?”

“This kind of thing would undoubtedly end Cundertol’s career—regardless of what his intentions might be. Who do you think would stand to gain the most from that?”

Tahiri nodded. “The Deputy Prime Minister.”

“Exactly. He has a motive for doing something, as well as the power to make it happen quickly. If we can just get to him—”

“—before the ceremony!” she finished for him. “If the Keeramak is planning to double-cross Bakura, then we’ll need to act before then. The only thing stopping them from attacking openly is fear for their souls. Once Bakura is consecrated, there’ll be no stopping them.”

“Agreed. And that doesn’t leave us much time.” The image of Prime Minister Cundertol winked out and was replaced by a flowchart of the complex’s communications network. “Now, where exactly is Harris at the moment?”

Before he could pinpoint the Deputy Prime Minister, a blaring voice rang out through the empty command hub.

“Attention, cleaning crew. On whose instructions are you acting?”

Goure activated an external comlink, his voice erupting uncomfortably close to Tahiri’s right ear. “Supervisor Jakaitis, sir.”

“Supervisor Jakaitis denies requesting a crew in that location,” came the instant reply. “Your presence is not authorized.”

“I’m sure if you were to ask him again—”

“You are in violation of Sections Four through Sixteen of the Secrecy Act. Remain where you are until a squad arrives. You will be escorted to a holding area where you will be formally processed.”

The feed from the command hub ceased.

Tahiri cursed under her breath and, despite the air-conditioning unit of her suit, started to sweat again. They’d been paying too much attention to Cundertol, and not enough on maintaining the pretence of manual labor.

Now that they’d been sprung, security would almost certainly be listening in on them. Goure butted the helmet of his HE-suit against Tahiri’s to ensure they could speak without being overheard. At least their identities hadn’t been revealed.

“There goes that plan,” he said.

“We have to get out of here.” An uneasy feeling was growing inside her. She couldn’t sense anyone nearby, but the security squad might just as easily consist of droids.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “We will. Follow me and do exactly as I do.”

“What about Harris?”

“I found him before they cut us off,” Goure said. “All we have to do is get to him.”

“And Arrizza?”

“He can look after himself. Come on!”

Before she could ask anything else, he’d pulled away and was powering his suit toward the exit. Although bulky and not designed exclusively for speed, the massive constructs could move quickly when they had to. She followed, the pounding of her heavy feet vibrating up through her metal legs and jarring into her body. The sound of hydros straining was loud in her ears.

Goure led her back to the first turbolift they’d taken. Knowing that security would be watching them, he didn’t even consider taking it. Instead, he took Tahiri along another series of corridors to a spiraling stairwell. The stairs shook precariously under their combined weight, but it was better than being trapped in a lift, waiting to be arrested.

They climbed ten floors without interruption. Concern about the stability of the stairs became a worry of a very different kind when two black spheres dropped from above, wailing and flashing warning lights.

“Security droids!” Goure yelled, his voice echoing from his speakers through the stairwell.

Tahiri looked up. Restricted to the stairs, the droids had dropped down the center of the stairwell shaft. Thankfully there were only two, but she had no doubt that others would soon follow. Their stun prods would be harmless against the HE-suits’ armor, but they had more powerful weapons at their disposal.

“You are under arrest!” they announced. “You are under arrest! Drop your weapons and cease all movement!”

Not likely
, Tahiri thought, opening a metal hatch on the outside of the suit and reaching inside. Before climbing into the suit, she had hidden her lightsaber among the
cleaning tools in case of an emergency such as this. It felt tiny in her giant metal fist, and she would have to concentrate twice as hard to fight the natural clumsiness of the suit, but she instantly felt better for having it in her hand.

“No!” Goure shouted, seeing what she was doing. “If you activate it then they’ll know who you are!”

What difference will that make?
she wanted to shout back. If they didn’t already know, they would as soon as she was arrested and forced to step out of the suit.

But an instinct told her to trust Goure. He didn’t seem to be running without purpose. Wherever he was taking her, he obviously thought they could get away. And there were ways to fight that didn’t involve using a lightsaber.

She sent a psychokinetic pulse to knock out the nearest droid. It spun out of control, showering sparks as it rolled crazily around the stone wall before plummeting to the bottom of the stairwell. The second backed away a meter or so, its weapon arms rising threateningly. She sent a power surge through its repulsorlift circuits, sending it upward to a fate similar to the first. Its screams of protest faded rapidly as it disappeared into the shadows above.