Part 18 (1/2)

Escape.

The hexes had been trying to escape.

So where were they trying to escape to?

Home.

But how did they know where home was?

The answer to that question burst into her mind with crystalline clarity.

The navicomp isn't the only map.

Ax was moving, circling the ruin until she found the path that the two escaping droids had taken. No one stood in her way until she reached the first of the bodies. It was cordoned off by Gamorreans, and she let them be. The Jedi had made a real mess of that hex, spilling its guts out in a mess of silver and red. The second, she hoped, would be in better condition.

It, too, was cordoned off, but she could see through the guards that the body was intact, tangled up in a net like an animal caught in a trap.

Perfect, she thought, bringing her lightsaber into play.

When she had the corpse safely slung over her shoulder, all she had to do was leave. That was accomplished as easily as walking through the palace to the s.p.a.ceport, where the Imperial shuttle awaited her pleasure. Palace security had been tightened in an attempt to stop anyone from leaving. The attempt was doomed to failure.

Two armed Imperial guards stood at attention by the air lock's inner door. They saluted as she stepped through.

”Any problems?” she asked them.

”There was a guy sniffing around the Mandalorian's s.h.i.+p before it took off, ” said one.

”And some nonhuman sc.u.m trying to get in here, ” said the other. ”We sent him packing. ”

”Very good. ”

She strode confidently up the ramp and into the c.o.c.kpit, where the pilot sat waiting. He took in her dusty, battered appearance but didn't remark upon it.

”We're leaving, ” she said. ”Advise Darth Chratis of our imminent rendezvous. I want a droid tech on hand the moment we dock. ”

”Yes, sir. But what about the envoy?”

”He's no longer with us. ”

The pilot nodded uncertainly, obviously comparing his standing orders with those he had just been given. A Sith always outranked a superior officer. That was the only conclusion available.

While the repulsors warmed up, Ax took the dead hex and stored it in the secure hold that had been set aside for the navicomp. This cargo was no less precious. The good thing about a droid was that, although dead was indisputably dead, memory took time to fade. With the right expertise, the location of the mystery world could be extracted from the data stored in the carca.s.s, and her success would be a.s.sured.

A warm glow filled her, part relief, part pride, part exhaustion. She was looking forward to sitting down. But there was something she had to do first.

The shuttle was lifting off when she returned to the c.o.c.kpit. She gazed through the viewports at the s.p.a.ceport and its minuscule cl.u.s.ter of s.h.i.+ps.

”Which s.h.i.+p did the Republic envoy arrive in?”

”That one, ” said the pilot, indicating a stubby, fat-nosed craft resting on four wide-s.p.a.ced legs.

”Destroy it, ” she said.

”Yes, sir. ”

The shuttle's cannon fired, strafing the back of the defenseless s.h.i.+p. It burst into a ball of flame so bright it outshone the sun.

Ax smiled in satisfaction as the palace's scarred roof receded into the distance. With any luck, she thought, that was the last she'd ever see of Hutta.

CHAPTER 20.

s.h.i.+gar had seen the s.p.a.ceport on plans of the palace, but hadn't been there before. He moved quickly and carefully through the corridors of the palace, counting corners and noting landmarks while avoiding guards and security cordons. Getting lost or pinned down was the last thing he needed. Stryver would have farther to go but he knew the layout better. If there was going to be another confrontation, s.h.i.+gar wanted to have the advantage.

Also on his mind was Larin's well-being. Again he debated the wisdom of bringing her to Hutta. She had been a great help, and good company, too, but now she was hurt, possibly maimed, and that made her future prospects even grimmer. He swore to make sure her hand was properly tended, but was that enough? Had the kindness he had a.s.sumed he was doing for her turned into an intolerable cruelty?

He was afraid of what his Master would think when she saw where his judgment had led him.

All the more important, then, to succeed with Stryver. The entire palace was in an uproar, which was to be expected after explosions in the lower levels, a fight in the security air lock, rogue droids running wild through the corridors, and the multilevel collapse Stryver had engendered. Conflicting alarms overlapped wildly, creating a head-jangling row that s.h.i.+gar did his best to ignore. He could only imagine how Ta.s.saa Bareesh was taking it.

The s.p.a.ceport guards were on high alert. s.h.i.+gar plucked a sentry from his regular patrol and used the Force to persuade him into revealing the command structure of the emplacement. There had been enough killing already that day. Besides, any evidence of a struggle would alert Stryver to an ambush.

Encaasa Bareesh was a junior nephew of the palace's matriarch. He oversaw the security detail from an office two floors away, and was notorious for only occasionally glancing at the cam views. It was a simple matter to convince Encaasa that a completely unrelated crew member wanted to board their s.h.i.+p, but had misplaced their clearance code. s.h.i.+gar imagined the indolent Hutt wearily slapping his fat fingers on the right controls and then settling back into his hammock. Not even a palace-wide security alert could ruffle him.

The main entranceway to the s.p.a.ceport slid open. s.h.i.+gar walked through, watching behind him for any sign of the Mandalorian. None, yet. The doors closed, leaving him alone in the circular disembarkation area.

s.h.i.+gar had asked the guard which berth the First Blood had been a.s.signed to, and he headed straight there. The s.p.a.ceport's umbilical door was open, revealing the gray skin of Stryver's s.h.i.+p at the far end. s.h.i.+gar wasn't so foolish as to go anywhere near that inviting portal. It would be b.o.o.by-trapped for certain.

Instead he waited nearby, in full view of both the First Blood and the s.p.a.ceport entrance, with his lightsaber inactivated but held tightly at the ready. Stryver had to come for his s.h.i.+p sometime, and s.h.i.+gar would be prepared.

He emptied his mind of all concerns-every worry about Larin and his mission, every ache and pain-and stood poised and ready for action.

The sound of repulsors activating broke him out of his trance. One of the s.h.i.+ps was warming up its engines for liftoff. He circled the disembarkation area to identify which one, but the sound wasn't coming from any of the closed air locks. It was coming from Stryver's berth.

That surprised him. He had a.s.sumed Stryver was traveling alone. There could, therefore, be no one inside his s.h.i.+p to warm it up for him. Either s.h.i.+gar was wrong on that point, or Stryver had activated it by remote.

The repulsor whine continued to rise in volume. This wasn't just warming up. The s.h.i.+p was about to take off.

Cursing under his breath, s.h.i.+gar abandoned subtlety. Approaching the s.h.i.+p's outer air lock, he quickly examined it for weak points and found just one. The door was keyed to Stryver's biometric signs-height, breadth, proportion of limbs, and so on-but it also featured an override, just in case Stryver was ever grievously injured in the course of a mission. If he lost a major limb, for instance. That override could be sliced into by someone clever enough.

s.h.i.+gar wasn't as good a slicer as Larin, but he had seen this kind of trick before. Mandalorian s.h.i.+ps had been Jedi targets ever since the Great War, and he had been taught over and over again the best way to disable them. Working quickly, he tapped a series of codes designed to reset the override function back to a commonly used default. When he typed in the default, the door slid open.

Not a moment too soon. The repulsors were at screaming-pitch and the s.h.i.+p was hovering lightly on the ground. In another second, it would've been high above the palace.

s.h.i.+gar leapt lightly into the air lock and was swept upward with it. The moment his boots touched the floor, however, a secondary security system kicked in. Powerful electric shocks coursed through his body, sending his muscles into irresistible spasms. He fell onto his side, unable even to cry out. His jaw was locked open in a silent scream.

The autopilot raised the s.h.i.+p straight above the s.p.a.ceport and adjusted its trim. s.h.i.+gar felt himself rolling toward the open air lock, but couldn't move a finger to save himself.