Refugee: Force Heretic II (33 page)

“You should know I’d never let myself be caught or killed, Malinza,” the Rodian said, stepping out from where he’d kept himself hidden and dragging Jaina with him. “But I guess you didn’t know me that well, did you?”

Malinza turned, her look of surprise deepening when she saw Jaina. “I-I don’t understand.”

“That is becoming increasingly obvious,” Harris said, producing a blaster of his own from beneath his scarlet robe. “Your weapons on the floor, if you would be so kind.”

Malinza’s face was pale as she dropped her small blaster onto the rug in front of her. Jjorg obeyed with a snarl, while Vyram calmly complied, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“What do you intend to do?” Malinza asked, fighting even harder now to keep her emotions in check.

“Do?” Harris waved Salkeli forward, and the Rodian pushed Jaina over to the others. “The job you set out to do, of course. Why else would I have funded you, Malinza, if our goals weren’t the same in the first place? I’m going to unite the people against the Galactic Alliance. With the P’w’eck’s help, I will make Bakura as safe as it can possibly be from outside invasion. We will govern our own destiny, forever.” He smiled coldly. “The only real difference between your plans and my own is that, when mine come to fruition, the people of Bakura will be united behind me, not you. Which is a shame, really, because it will be your tragic death that finally mobilizes
them. That and the terrible betrayal of the Jedi who came to enslave us once again.”

“What
?”
asked Malinza and Jaina at the same time.

“All will be made clear in due course, I assure you. Now, Salkeli, if you could bind their hands, please.”

The Rodian dragged Jaina to join the others, holstered his blaster, and produced electronic binders for the four of them from a drawer in Harris’s desk. With only the one blaster on them now, Jaina felt a heightened edginess in the Freedom members. She tried to catch Malinza’s eye, but the girl was steadfastly ignoring her—although whether from embarrassment or anger, she couldn’t tell.

“You’re crazy if you think you’re going to get away with this,” Jaina said, trying to divert the burden of rebellion onto her shoulders.

“Get away with what, exactly?” Harris laughed. “You don’t even know what it is I intend to do!”

The Deputy Prime Minister was finding the whole thing entirely too amusing for Jaina’s liking. That troubled Jaina deeply. That and the cool readiness with which he held the blaster trained on his captives.

Malinza glared at Salkeli as he started to put the binders around her wrists.

“We trusted you,” she hissed.

“If it makes you feel any better, Malinza, it’ll probably be the last mistake you’re ever going to make.”

“Malinza, no!” Jaina called out when she saw the girl noticeably stiffen.

But it was too late. Not waiting for the binders to snap shut and tighten about her wrists, Malinza pushed Salkeli’s hands aside and brought her knee up into his groin. As he jackknifed forward, she clubbed him to the ground. Barely had the look of surprise begun to form on his face when Jjorg was moving forward also. The long-limbed blond lunged across the room, her strong thighs propelling her forward, reaching for Harris’s gun.

He didn’t even move, except to pull the trigger. A single shot rang out and Jjorg hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Then the blaster was on Jaina.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” he said softly, “I advise against it.”

Malinza backed away, mouth open in horror as she stared at Jjorg’s limp body. Vyram made a move as though to help his fallen comrade, but Jaina quickly pulled him back.

“He means it,” she said. “That blaster’s not set to stun.”

“Why didn’t you do something?” Malinza asked, her words steeped in accusation and her cheeks soaked with tears.

Jaina shook her head. There was no way to say it nicely.

Harris saved her the trouble. “If Jjorg hadn’t resisted, she’d still be alive.”

Jaina would have perhaps phrased it less bluntly—and added something to the effect that there would come an opportunity to escape later, when they found out what exactly Harris was up to—but that was the essence of it.

Salkeli had climbed back to his feet, looking a little gray. Stepping up close to Malinza, he snarled, “Don’t ever try that again.”

He fastened the binders then, and Jaina saw Malinza wince as he set them to tighten around the girl’s wrists—obviously tighter than they needed to be. Malinza didn’t complain; she just let him do it with her jaw firmly clenched, her eyes unable to hide the anger and betrayal she was feeling.

“This actually works out well for me,” Harris said as Salkeli bound Vyram next. “You saved me the trouble of trying to decide which one of you to shoot. There’s nothing quite like a body to prove that there was a struggle,
don’t you think? Unfortunately, security was so distracted by the Keeramak and the ceremony that they didn’t notice a slight glitch in the cams monitoring my office antechamber and the corridors outside. When they do, I’ll be sure to point out your prowess, Vyram, at slicing into official systems. Such a disruption would be well within your capabilities, wouldn’t you say?”

Jaina held out her hands when it was her turn for the binders. As Salkeli reached around her wrists to seal the durasteel binders she slid a simple thought into his mind: the
click
of the binders locking. She reinforced it with a wince similar to Malinza’s, as though they were pinching her skin.

He leered at her as he stepped back, confident that all of the captives were now effectively bound. Jaina smiled back at him defiantly. The binders were tight around her wrists but not locked. A good tug would have them open, when the time was right.
Then
she would help Malinza and her friends escape.

Salkeli produced his blaster and took his place beside Harris. Malinza glowered at him, eyes filled with hate, while Harris stopped to check the growing crowd in the holoprojector before switching it off and closing the panel.

“Within the hour, this planet will be a consecrated part of the P’w’eck Emancipation Movement. And you, my dear Malinza, will be a martyr to your cause. Doesn’t that fill you with pride?”

Malinza spat on the carpet at his feet.

Harris simply smiled back at her, his eyes triumphant and gloating. “Spoken like a true rebel.” He faced his accomplice, then. “Salkeli, in position, please.”

The Rodian ushered his three prisoners closer to the door, and Harris opened it with his thumbprint. Jaina, Malinza, and Vyram filed outside with the blaster pointed at their backs.

“Where are you taking us?” Malinza asked.

“Wait and see,” Harris said. “I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”

CONSECRATION

“Disappointed?” The note of incredulity in Jag’s voice could barely hide his irritation. “Jaina is still missing and you think I might be disappointed that I’m not going to see the ceremony?”

The voice of Twin Sun Three fell silent, her attempt at lightening the mood having fallen painfully flat.

Jag clicked twice to remind his pilots not to clutter the airwaves, even as he chided himself for being snappy. He was concerned by Jaina’s continued absence, but at the same time he had to trust in Jaina’s ability to look after herself. Besides which, if anything terrible had happened to her, he was sure Leia would sense it. That Jaina hadn’t called for help yet through the Force suggested that she was at least still in control of her situation—whatever that might be. And until such a time as she did get in touch with anyone, he would just have to continue on as though everything were normal—and that meant concentrating on flying.

He had taken a mixed flight out to patrol the edges of
Selonia
’s
orbit, wary of any “unauthorized” activity while attention was focused below. Both P’w’eck and Bakuran contingents were quiet, the two big alien assault carriers,
Errinung’ka
and
Firrinree
, orbiting in quadrants diametrically opposed to the two local defenders,
Defender
and
Sentinel
. The latter had two full squadrons of P’w’eck fighter craft stationed at close quarters, plus
two squat picket ships. If things were to turn nasty, for whatever reason, they could do a lot of damage while the Bakurans tried to get their balance. While Jag obviously hoped nothing untoward
would
happen, he had to think tactically.

“Don’t just outguess your enemy,” his father had once said, “but outsee him, too. Always assume that he’s two steps ahead of the current play, and be
three
steps ahead yourself.”

Jag took his clawcraft and his two wingmates in a wide arc around
Selonia
. The frigate basked in the light of Bakura’s sun, unmolested and apparently completely ignored by the forces surrounding it.

He could sense games all around him, moving slowly toward their endplays. It irked him once again to be so far away from the action taking place below on Bakura’s surface. But if nothing came of it, and all his second-guessing proved unfounded, he wouldn’t be disappointed. A large part of him agreed with Leia that maybe, just maybe, this deal with the P’w’eck would turn out to be the best thing that had ever happened to Bakura …

The voice of the comm operator on
Selonia
suddenly cut across his thoughts.

“Launches detected!”

“I’m on it,” he said, quickly swinging his clawcraft in the direction of the numerous vessels his sensors detected emerging from
Sentinel
’s launching bays. His wingmates were close behind him, following him in for a closer look.

“Has Bakuran Defense Fleet advised us of the launches?” he asked. The number of ships leaving the cruiser was already up to twenty and still rising.

“As far as they’re concerned, I don’t think they feel they have to,” came the reply. “But I’ll check with them anyway.”

Jag was already close enough to pick out the types of craft emerging from the launching bays, but this only
confused him. It was a mixed bag, consisting of Y- and X-wings from the Bakuran Defense Forces, along with an equal number of Ssi-ruuvi—
P’w’eck
, he reminded himself—Swarm-class droid fighters. They flew in elegant formation out of the bays and into orbit, peeling off in threes and fives, still divided more or less equally between both forces.

“Apparently it’s an honor guard,” came back
Selonia
’s operator. “I’ve notified Captain Mayn.”

Honor guard? It was plausible enough, he supposed. The ships were flying tightly together, and had obviously rehearsed their maneuvers well beforehand. That showed a degree of cooperation between the two forces—as well as trust.

But it still troubled him. The number of ships was approaching fifty, far too many for the depleted Twin Suns to tackle on its own—especially if it was caught off guard.

Be three steps ahead …

“Do you think they’d mind if the Galactic Alliance joined them to show our respects, too?” he asked
Selonia
.

“I’ll ask.”

While he waited on a reply, on another channel he alerted the Twin Suns pilots on standby, telling them to kit up and launch as soon as possible.

“We’re on our way,” Jocell said, adding dryly: “I don’t think any of us really expected this to be a slow day, did we?”

Jag picked a flight of three ships, two of them droid fighters, and tailed them around the planet. The trio didn’t react to his presence, but a transmission from
Selonia
not long after confirmed that they’d been noticed.

“They’re requesting we stay well clear,” came Captain Mayn over the open channel. “I informed them that we
would happily comply, but that we would have to take the necessary steps to ensure our security.”

Jag smiled tightly to himself. What Mayn was saying was that, short of Jag provoking an altercation, he had a free hand to do whatever he felt necessary.

With this in mind, he continued to shadow the trio of fighters. The total number of ships in the “honor guard” had just reached an even hundred—and it was still climbing.

We’re under attack!

In an instant, Saba was awake and clambering to her feet. Disconcerted, she tried to get her bearings. Then she remembered: she’d been resting in a large chair on the ice barge’s opulent observation deck. She’d nodded off and fallen into a peaceful dream of being up on the slopes of the Listian Hills. The sky had been red and cloudy, the scent on the breeze relaxing, and she’d lain there among the warm rocks, listening to the restive growlings of her hatchmates nearby …

Then Mara’s cry through the Force had snapped her back to reality, and she realized with some disappointment that the growling she’d heard in the dream was in fact the rasping of the barge’s many repulsors over the surface of the ice beneath them. With a grunt, she shook herself free of the dream and made her way over to where the others were standing.

The barge was a shallow, oval-shaped vessel that skidded across the surface of glaciers and ice fields with more speed than grace. The three passenger decks bulged out of the top like an afterthought, ringed by the powerful generators and repulsors that kept it in the air. It possessed heavy shields that kept the icy wind at bay, but the howling was still audible as a thin, far-off Ixll-like wail. There were four weapons emplacements around the curved edge of the barge, and they currently pointed at
something flickering in and out of sight through dense snow spray off to the starboard side.