Part 9 (1/2)
Opportunities were everywhere, all the time, for sharp minds to find. Like credcoins dropped on a pavement. And Lecersen had a very sharp mind. There were so very many enemies to set at one another's throats.
Daala was already doing a very good job of alienating the Jedi. Lecersen didn't think he could have done any better. The Jedi, in turn, were doubtless up to something. He wasn't sure what. Yet. But he did not think for an instant that the elegant, courteous Kenth Hamner spoke for every single Jedi Knight or, indeed, even Master in the Order. The observers who had now been legally abolished had been good for Daala and the GA, not so good for the Moffs. Far better to have the Jedi thinking they weren't being watched.
Two Jedi were now incarcerated. That was good. The Jedi had been chafing under Daala and all but reveling in their new, legal freedom. That was good, too. Jag was distracted, and so was Jaina, and reporters were apparently annoying the two to no end. Also very good.
The threads were all there. Now to weave them into a tapestry that would ill.u.s.trate a picture of the Moffs restored to their rightful Imperial glory-without a lovesick puppy of a pilot at its head.
Lecersen drained the wine, looked at the empty gla.s.s, and smiled.
JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT.
JAINA COULDN'T BELIEVE IT, BUT SHE ACTUALLY MISSED DAB HANTAQ.
She did not miss the random check-ins that had often interrupted her sleep or other nocturnal activities. She did not miss his following her during her waking hours, reporting on her every movement. And she most certainly did not miss the fact that he was a dead ringer-nice pun, Jaina, she thought with a wince-for her late brother, Anakin.
What she did miss was the fact that Dab had tried to do his job with courtesy. He did what he was ordered to do, but he never seemed to particularly relish it.
Unlike the reporters. Jaina was beginning to think the ruling in favor of eliminating the official observers had traded one nuisance for a worse one. At least the observers had had rules of their own. The journalists seemed to have none whatsoever. During the whole ”let's give the entire galaxy access to the Jedi” phase that had mercifully come to an end recently, certain areas of the Temple had been opened to journalists. At least a Jedi had accompanied them during their sightseeing, but Jaina had never gotten used to running into the press in the dining room or in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
She sighed and slipped into her outfit for the night's mission, which Jag had dubbed Operation Caranak, and began to apply the makeup necessary to complete it. She scowled at herself in the mirror and sighed. Time was growing short. It would have to do.
Automatically she reached for her lightsaber, and then hesitated. Sword of the Jedi she might be, but tonight's mission would not necessitate fighting. She hoped. It had a very specific goal in mind, and if she ended up being forced to use her lightsaber, all would already be lost. With a slight frown, she dropped it in her black, stylish nerf-hide handbag anyway. No one needed to see it, and she felt naked leaving without it.
She clicked on her comm. ”Gaunt, this is Slicer.”
”Gaunt here.” Jag, his voice calm as ever but with a slight edge to it that only Jaina, who knew him so well, would have noticed. The mission clearly had him keyed up.
”Everything in order?” she asked.
”Check. Carved is in position.”
”So is Curved. I'm preparing to initiate Phase One.”
”Copy that,” Jag said. ”I'm moving into the secondary location.”
She took a deep breath, steadying herself for what she might face. ”Okay. See you at the rendezvous.”
”Watch yourself. They'll be gunning for you.”
”I know. You too.”
She clicked off her comlink and attempted to put it in its usual position on her belt, then remembered she wasn't wearing the belt tonight.
These stealth missions were annoying.
She dropped the comlink in her bag beside her lightsaber. A final perusal of her outfit and she left the room.
The reporter was waiting for her the instant she stepped outside the Temple.
She had known he would be, and steeled herself for the encounter.
Reporters were forbidden to enter the Temple unless invited to do so, a welcome change from earlier. So instead they cl.u.s.tered like a swarm of insects at the base of the stairs, a milling little knot of salacious beings all clamoring for the exclusive story.
”Jedi Solo! Over here!”
”Solo! Where are you heading?”
”Jedi Solo, what is your opinion on the movement to eliminate slavery on Vinsoth?” This last from a Chev, tall, powerfully built, piercing violet eyes staring at her from under a heavy brow.
Jaina waved a hand airily at all of them, forcing an expression of good cheer.
”Come on, guys, can't a girl go out on a dinner date just like anyone else?” She opened her coat, nerf-hide black to match her evening bag, and mockingly showed off the long, red formal evening dress she wore underneath it, with matching red shoes with high, narrow heels. ”See? Not even wearing my lightsaber. And I'm certainly not going to be running in these shoes. Now, unless you are keenly interested in what I'm going to order for dinner, you should really go home. Or bug someone else.”
Some of the crowd sighed audibly and backed away. But at least one tagged along after her, shouting, ”Shouldn't a Jedi, who respects the Force created by all living beings, be a vegetarian?”
Jaina rolled her eyes and bit back a retort. Think of the mission, Jaina. Think of the mission. She ducked into the speeder that had pulled up and was now hovering, waiting for her.
”Go. Now.”
Winter Celchu, her distinctive white hair dyed a forgettable shade of muddy brown, her features blunted by a judicious application of makeup, and her figure swathed in the robes of a Jedi apprentice, caught Jaina's eyes in the mirror and grinned.
”Of course, Jedi Solo.”
IT MIGHT BE ONLY A DINNER, JAVIS TYRR THOUGHT, BUT MANY A SECRET had been whispered between lovers by candlelight before. Jaina had a head start on him; he would have to move quickly. As he lifted off, his Hologlide J57 cam droid securely in the seat beside him, he was able to catch sight of her vessel.
Had Jaina been piloting, he knew, the speeder would make all sorts of convoluted twists and turns in an effort to elude pursuit. Instead, it remained almost staidly in the proper lanes of traffic, not exceeding legal speeds. And if Jaina wasn't piloting tonight, that meant she might be choosing to imbibe some alcohol with her meal. Tyrr smiled. That would be useful. Intoxication often loosened tongues.
His network's ratings had soared upon his coverage of Jysella Horn's ”Jedi Rampage,” as it had been dubbed. So had his popularity with his bosses. He'd been given his own exclusive half-hour show, which he had t.i.tled Javis Tyrr Presents: The Jedi Among Us. Some episodes had been calmer than others. Most recently, in fact, he had aired an educational spot about the history of the Jedi. The ratings were starting to drop as the public lost interest, and his boss had recently indicated that something ”a bit livelier” would be preferred.
He was not going to stoop to eavesdropping on pillow talk. Tyrr was, after all, a reputable journalist. But any conversation held in a public place was fair game.
The little red speeder was fairly easily followed, and Tyrr wondered if perhaps this might not be a waste of his time tonight. Jaina Solo and Jagged Fel were highly important personages, but they were beings, too, and it might indeed just be a dinner out. Even so, there could possibly be crumbs dropped that would be worth it. He tapped in a request on the vessel's computer and it came up with a list of several restaurants in the area. As he quickly scanned the list, he realized he thought he knew where they were headed. That information helped make up his mind. He veered into another lane, taking a shortcut in order to arrive before Jaina. If, as he suspected, Fel and Solo were dining at the Indigo Tower, one of the nicest restaurants in the quarter, at least he'd have a good meal at the network's expense.