Star Wars: Shadow Games (33 page)

Dash remembered the moment. “I thought it was kind of weird that you didn’t jump all over him for returning that tin pot insult.”

“You caught that, huh? Yeah. On top of sucking my brain, he cracked a joke. Not a terribly funny one—and not that he meant to—but still … that’s
my
territory. Anyway, I thought it was kind of suspicious, so I kept one eye on him while I was keeping the other on the crowd. I was sure he was bad news when he let the assassin into
the security walk.” He looked at Dash. “Frankly, I was surprised you didn’t blast him to metal shavings right then and there.” Dash felt blank. “I just thought he was going to try to …”

“To what—shoot the guy? He couldn’t shoot the guy. For one thing, he wasn’t armed. For another, his programming isn’t
that
twisted. He was giving the assassin better access to his target.”

Dash recalled the scene: him telling the droid Edge was right above him on the platform; the droid thanking him politely and turning to open the catwalk; his sudden reluctance to act. Dash had assumed he was merely out of his element. “Whoa, wait, hold up,” he said. “You’re saying that
Oto
is the saboteur?”

Mel was shaking his head. “That’s not possible. Whoever did all of that put Javul—and everyone else—in harm’s way time and again. You said it yourself, he’s still programmed not to harm sentients.”

“Not
directly
,” corrected Leebo. “And he didn’t. Not once.”

“You’re right,” murmured Dash, mentally running back through the series of incidents—the rain of lilies, the enabling of the false hull breach, the sabotaging of the irising stage door on Rodia, the setup of the gravity failure in the cargo bay. “None of it was direct. He didn’t pull the trigger, he just supplied the ammunition.”

“Yeah,” Leebo agreed. “Or left the door wide open.”

Mel rose and moved to stare at the Otoga 222. “All right. Let’s say he did do all of it. How do you account for the seemingly dual agenda—one to discourage, one to harm?”

“I’m clueless,” Leebo admitted. “Why don’t we ask him?”

Mel, looking grimmer than Dash had ever seen him,
checked the restraining bolt, reached for the master reactivation toggle—then stopped and checked the bolt again. Only then did he reactivate the droid.

The large hemispherical optics lit up. Dash had the impression of someone caught napping. Oto’s servos whined, his digits clacked, he looked from one of his interrogators to the other. “May I be of assistance?”

“You can,” said Mel. “You can tell us who you’re working for.”

“I am working for you, Cargo Master Melikan. And, of course, for Javul Charn.”

“No. I mean who programmed you to sabotage Javul’s tour?”

“You would have to be more specific, sir. To which particular sabotage do you refer?”

Mel’s eyes widened. He sent Dash an incredulous glance.

Dash nodded. Suddenly everything made sense. Well, most of it. Or at least
some
of it … “Oto, if I understand you, you were programmed by different parties with different agendas.”

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“All right—who’s who? Start with this: somebody wanted you to frighten Javul to get her to behave in a particular way, right?”

“Correct. Vigo Hityamun Kris wished Mistress Charn to cease working—as he first suspected—to unseat Prince Xizor. He felt she was placing herself in harm’s way. And he wanted her to return to his sphere of influence. I was required to perform such sabotage as would effect this result either by inducing fear or by throwing the tour off schedule such that she could not complete it.”

“By, for example, sabotaging the gravity grid in the cargo hold?”

“Yes, sir. That is a very good example.”

“But someone else wanted her stopped permanently.”

“You are again correct, sir. An Imperial agent programmed me to spy on Mistress Charn and to gather evidence that she was a Rebel operative. And since such evidence existed, they wished me to enable their efforts to stop her. To capture her, if possible, at a point that would cause the most widespread damage to the Rebellion.”

Mel paled visibly. “Such as when we deliver the package.”

“That would be most reasonable to assume.”

Dash blew out a gust of air. “That must have been some programming job to get around your safety protocols. How did they—?”

“I wasn’t finished, Security Chief Rendar. There is one more party involved.”

“What? Who?”

“Prince Xizor. He, too, had me programmed to enable his efforts to stop Mistress Charn. It is Prince Xizor who wishes her dead.”

Dash’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

“No, sir. I am not programmed for humor.”

“You can say that again,” muttered Leebo.

“I am not programmed for humor,” repeated Oto obediently.

Dash raised his hands to stop Leebo from further comment. “How was all this accomplished, Oto?” he asked. “How could they get to you?”

“Hityamun Kris originally had me reprogrammed during my scheduled maintenance prior to the second half of our last tour.”

“But how did he get his programmer access to you?” Mel asked. “I’ve known our Otoga specialist for almost a decade. I would have sworn he was completely trustworthy.”

“Yes, sir. But he was unaware that anyone else had been allowed to tamper with my subroutines.”

“Who
was
aware, Oto?” Mel asked. “Who brought the Vigo’s programmer in?”

“First Mate Finnick, sir.”

Mel swore. Loudly. Violently. “Bran? Gods of Chaos! How the hell did they get to him?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Is he an active agent?” asked Mel. “Has he been aiding you in your sabotage?”

“I don’t know if he’s an active agent, sir. He has not communicated with me or aided me in my programmed assignments. He merely facilitated my reprogramming.”

“How did Xizor get into the act?” Dash asked the droid.

“
Into the act
, sir? I was unaware of any theatrical aspect to—”

“How did he gain access to you?”

“The programmer was aware of Prince Xizor’s interest in Javul Charn. He made the underlord aware that he had compromised my programming. The prince then used the subroutines he installed to piggyback his own suggestions for my activity. Mostly this involved what he called
upping the ante
. I would do what Hityamun Kris required of me and a bit more. And I would give Xizor’s operatives access to our effects.”

“And the Empire?”

“The Imperial Security Bureau connected with me through the
Nova’s Heart
, sir. Via subspace messages. Of course, the previous programming alterations made their task easier.”

Mel grew even more pale. “The signal from Rodian space control to the ship’s AI.”

“Yes, sir. That was one of their avenues of access.”

“Wait,” said Dash. “You said the Empire didn’t want Javul dead.
Xizor
wanted her dead.” More revenge.

“Yes, sir. That was my assessment based on my instruction set.”

“Then Edge was hired by Xizor?”

Oto tilted his ovoid head, his optics flashing. “I … am uncertain, Chief Rendar. There has been a great deal of … meddling with my software. But it does stand to reason.”

Dash and Mel exchanged glances.

Dash said, “I wonder if Xizor knows he failed.”

“Of course he knows, sir,” said Oto reasonably. “That was part of my instructions as well, from both Xizor and the ISB. And I am to transmit our location as soon as we drop out of hyperspace.”

Dash, Mel, and Leebo all moved at once. Leebo got there first and flipped Oto’s
OFF
switch, sending the droid back into dormancy.

Mel looked at Dash. “Bran knows we’re rendezvousing with the
Nova’s Heart
. Somehow we’ve got to get a message to Captain Marrak—let him know he’s got a spy on board—without tipping off Bran.”

“Excuse me,” said Leebo, “but isn’t Finnick also communications officer?”

“Yes. Yes he is.”

“Well, that complicates things a mite.”

Dash was thoughtful, his mind working swiftly through the connections, expectations, and agendas of all the parties involved. “Maybe. Or maybe it simplifies them … for us.”

W
HEN
D
ASH AND
M
EL GATHERED EVERYONE IN THE
cargo hold and described the convoluted set of connections that all led back to the Otoga droid, Han laughed outright.

“So we’ve got a Black Sun underlord and a bunch of Imperials just waiting for Oto’s invitation to a party? Does that about sum it up?”

“I fail to see the humor in the situation,” said Spike. “If Leebo hadn’t been so observant …”

“What d’you mean you don’t see the humor? Can’t you just imagine what would happen if a Black Sun frigate and an Imperial Dreadnought popped out of hyperspace in the same spot? I’d
pay
to see that.”

“You may not have to,” said Dash.

Spike turned to stare at him. “You deactivated the droid, right? He can’t send the signal if he’s deactivated.”

“Yeah. But I think we should let him send it.”

Han met Dash’s gaze and grinned. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We drop out of hyperspace with Oto deactivated and send Captain Marrak a message about his mole,” Dash said.

“Then we reactivate the droid and let him send his signal.”

Dash nodded. “Then we jump to lightspeed again and go—”

“To coordinates we’ll share only with Captain Marrak,” finished Javul.

Han frowned. “Why? I told you—I’ll take you all the way to Alderaan.”

“We may need someone to run interference for us. Draw the dogs off. Serdor’s good at that.”

“How’re you going to get a message to the captain without Finnick intercepting it?” asked Dash.

“All the cells of the Rebel Alliance have a shared code,” Mel answered. “We can use that to let him know about the spy in his crew.”

“Won’t Finnick know the code?”

“Bran Finnick isn’t part of our cell,” said Javul. “Not everyone on the crew is, even though I thought we’d vetted everyone pretty well. Finnick was Republic. No sign of any connection to Black Sun. Apparently, Hitch got to him somehow.”

Dash snorted. “I bet I can guess how.”

Javul shook her head, walking a slow circle around the dormant Oto. “I don’t get it. Oto’s been compromised since sometime last year. He’s been leaving our flank open to attack at every turn and hiding his activities. Yet he just opened up to you and told you everything. Why didn’t he tell us before?”

“If you knew anything about programming,” Leebo said, “you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Javul arched a perfect eyebrow and waited.

“It’s simple. Nobody asked him a direct question.”

Mel laughed mirthlessly. “And why would you? Who’d suspect a droid of playing three ends against the middle?”

They overshot Bacrana, holding to a course that swung them to Galactic East toward Cyrillia. Between Cyrillia and Rhommamool they dropped from hyperspace to
send a coded message to the
Nova’s Heart
. The message was:
We’re departing from our charted course under restrictive conditions. Material acquired. Will contact you
.

Dash, sitting next to Javul at the subspace communications console in the forward circuitry bay, watched her send the coded characters. “I don’t get it. Where’s the hidden message?”

“It’s called a URC,” said Javul, “which is a sort of an acronym for ‘you are compromised.’ Literally a three-word sequence that begins with
U
,
R
, and
C
.”

“So how do they know Finnick is the source of the compromise?”

“The first word after the URC.” Javul nodded at the screen.

“Uh … 
material.
” He shrugged. Then, “Oh!
Mate
. Is that it? You want Marrak to see
mate
within
material
?”

“Exactly. Now the question is: what will he do about it? He may elect to leave Finnick in place and just alert the other operatives in the group or he may decide to stow him in the cargo hold.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

“I’d almost be willing to bet that he’ll leave him in place. Finnick may have just been paid to perform a simple task—or he may be an active agent regardless of the fact that Oto wasn’t aware of him as such. Hitch might be expecting to hear from him.”

The message sent, they jumped back into hyperspace, heading even farther from their charted course toward the Circarpous system.

“Why there?” Dash asked Han as they prepared for the next stage of their plan.

“Because it’s a busy system. It gets a lot of traffic
and
it’ll set us up for a fast run through a pretty sparsely populated region that’s off the beaten path … plus it gives us a straight shot to Alderaan.”

Javul poked her head into the cockpit. “Leebo’s ready to bring Oto back online on your mark, Han.”

Dash rose from the copilot’s seat. “I’d better go back then, just in case the tin can’s got some more surprises in store for us.”

“Suit yourself,” Han said.

In the hold, Dash, Javul, Leebo, and Mel waited tensely for the
Millennium Falcon
to drop to sublight speed. They felt it before Han sent down the message from the cockpit, but they waited for his signal. Then, with Dash and Mel holding blasters on the Otoga unit, Leebo reactivated him, but not without the extra security of a direct connection to his dataport. It was Leebo’s opinion that they should make absolutely sure he didn’t send some sort of additional information or a distress call.

Oto booted up, looked around, and asked Leebo, “We have reentered realspace, have we not?”

“Reality is a matter of opinion,” said Leebo philosophically. “But we’re no longer in hyperspace, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That was my query,” replied Oto. He was still for a moment, his optic half orbs dimming then brightening. Then he asked, “May I be of assistance?”

“You’ve sent our coordinates?”

“Yes, Chief Rendar, I have.”

“Then you’ve done your job, Oto. Take a nap.” Dash nodded at Leebo.

“I do not need a n—” Oto went silent again, his optics going dark as Leebo withdrew his interfacing digit from the other droid’s dataport.